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In the Space Between: Chapter 25

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Gabby surprises Glen on set along with some of Glen's family! There's an accidental Glen and Gabby moment that gets put on social media, and Glen and Gabby have a tough conversation.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

The sound of excited chatter filled the air as Lauren, her husband, and their two kids strolled onto the bustling set in Atlanta. Crew members moved back and forth, adjusting lighting rigs and hauling equipment, while the distant hum of conversation and the occasional bark of direction blended into a steady background rhythm.

Glen stood near one of the trailers, rubbing the back of his neck as he reviewed the next scene with the director. He looked tired but focused, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Uncle Boom Boom!”

The high-pitched squeal cut through the noise, and Glen barely had time to turn before his niece and nephew barreled into him. They wrapped their arms around his legs, nearly knocking him off balance.

“Whoa!” Glen laughed, crouching down to hug them. “What are you two troublemakers doing here?”

“We came to see you!” his niece beamed, her hair bouncing as she threw her arms around his neck.

“And we brought snacks,” his nephew chimed in, holding up a crinkled bag of gummy bears as if it were a prized treasure.

Glen chuckled, ruffling his nephew’s hair. “You guys are the best. I missed you.”

Lauren approached, smiling at the scene. “They’ve been counting down the days,” Lauren said, her voice warm.

Glen straightened, still holding his niece in his arms. “It’s so good to see you guys. Thanks for coming.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Lauren replied, and then, with a playful glint in her eye, she added, “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a friend to come with us.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “A friend?”

“She was really excited to see you,” Lauren teased, her tone light.

Before Glen could ask more, movement caught his eye over Lauren’s shoulder. He glanced up, his curiosity shifting to disbelief as he froze in place.

There, standing a few steps behind Lauren, was Gabby.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. His tired mind struggled to catch up with what his eyes were telling him. The noise of the set—the hum of conversation, the clatter of equipment—faded into the background as his entire focus zeroed in on her.

She looked a little unsure, clutching the strap of her bag with one hand while the other hovered nervously at her side. Her lips curved into a tentative, almost shy smile, and Glen’s chest tightened. It was as if seeing her was the first deep breath he’d taken in weeks.

“Hey,” she said softly, the single word laced with warmth and vulnerability.

His heart kicked into gear, pounding against his ribs as the realization hit him—she was really here.

“Gabby,” he said, her name escaping his lips in a breathless whisper.

She nodded, her smile growing a little. “Surprise.”

For a second, Glen didn’t know what to do. His emotions were a tangle of disbelief, relief, and overwhelming gratitude. And then, as if his body decided for him, he was moving. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, his boots scuffing against the concrete, and before Gabby could say another word, he pulled her into his arms.

Her bag slipped from her shoulder, landing with a soft thud on the ground as Glen’s arms wrapped tightly around her. Gabby melted into him, her hands clutching at the back of his shirt as if she didn’t want to let go.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Glen murmured, his voice low and rough against her ear. His hands moved up her back, as if to assure himself she was real.

“I missed you,” Gabby whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. His thumbs brushed against her cheeks as he took her in—the familiar warmth of her green eyes, the way her hair fell loose around her shoulders, the small nervous twitch of her lips.

“I missed you too,” he said, his voice soft but fervent.

For a brief moment, the two of them just stood there, lost in each other. Glen’s eyes searched hers, and Gabby could see the exhaustion and stress etched into his features, but there was something else now—something lighter, as if just her presence had taken a weight off his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to wait weeks to see you,” Gabby admitted, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “And I knew you were having a rough week.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Glen replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Gabby smiled, her nerves dissipating in the warmth of his embrace. But before either of them could say anything more, a polite cough interrupted them.

“Uh, not to break this up,” the crew member standing nearby said, his tone apologetic but amused, “but we’re still on a filming schedule here.”

Glen sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes, but he managed a small smile as he glanced at Gabby. “Guess I’m still on the clock.”

Gabby chuckled softly, her hands still lingering on his chest. “Go. We can talk more when you’re done.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re coming with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Glen laced their fingers together, gripping her hand tightly as if afraid she might disappear. He turned back to Lauren, who was watching them with a smug smile.

“You knew about this?” he asked, his tone accusatory but playful.

“Of course I did,” Lauren said with a shrug. “Who do you think helped her plan it?”

Glen gave her an exasperated but grateful look before turning his attention back to Gabby. His voice softened as he said, “Come on. Let me show you around.”

Glen led Gabby through the bustling set, his hand still firmly clasping hers as if he couldn’t bear to let go. It was the first time she’d ever stepped onto a working set, and the energy was electric. Crew members darted around with headsets and clipboards, cameras on massive rigs moved like machines from a futuristic world, and actors in full costume lingered between takes.

Gabby’s eyes widened, taking it all in like a kid seeing a theme park for the first time. She turned in a slow circle, her gaze flitting from the intricate set design to the bright lights suspended above them.

“This is… incredible,” she breathed, a sense of awe in her voice.

Glen smiled, watching her reaction with obvious amusement. “It’s a lot, huh?”

“A lot doesn’t even cover it,” she replied, still wide-eyed. “I’ve seen behind-the-scenes stuff in documentaries, but this? This is insane.”

He chuckled, clearly charmed by her enthusiasm. “I’ll warn you—it’s not always this glamorous. Sometimes it’s just a lot of waiting around.”

Gabby rolled her eyes playfully. “You don’t have to undersell it for me, Glen. Let me be in awe for a minute, okay?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

They made their way to a spot near the monitors, where Glen had to prep for his next scene. Gabby lingered nearby, trying not to get in the way as Glen briefly introduced her to a few crew members. One of them—an assistant producer with an easy smile and a clipboard tucked under his arm—stopped to chat.

“You must be Gabby,” the man said, offering his hand. “I’m Mike, one of the producers. Glen’s mentioned you a few times.”

Gabby shook his hand, feeling a small burst of pride at the idea of Glen talking about her. “It’s nice to meet you. And yeah, guilty as charged—I’m the girlfriend who’s never been on a set before and is probably way too excited right now.”

Mike chuckled. “Nothing wrong with that. We like having fresh eyes around here. Keeps things from getting too routine.” He tilted his head slightly. “So, what do you do, Gabby?”

“I’m a college student,” she said, a little shyly. “I’m studying film and media, so this is kind of… surreal. I mean, seeing it all in action.”

Mike’s interest visibly piqued. “Film and media, huh? You’re in the right place, then. Ever think about working in production?”

“Oh, all the time,” Gabby admitted, her excitement bubbling up. “I love the idea of being part of something like this—whether it’s writing, editing, or even being behind the camera. I’ve done some small projects for school, but nothing like this.”

“Well, if you ever want some advice or a foot in the door, let me know,” Mike said, giving her an encouraging smile. “We’re always looking for people who are passionate about what we do.”

Gabby’s eyes lit up, and she opened her mouth to respond, but a voice interrupted from behind her.

“Am I gonna have to fight Mike for your attention?”

Gabby turned, startled, to find Glen standing there, his hands in his pockets and a teasing smirk on his face.

Her face broke into a sheepish smile. “I didn’t even notice you were done.”

“Clearly,” Glen said, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Mike. “You two seem to be hitting it off.”

Mike laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me. She’s the one who’s interested in the business. Just doing my part to inspire the next generation.”

Glen shook his head, his expression softening as his eyes flicked back to Gabby. “You’re gonna steal the show if you’re not careful.”

Gabby laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think you’re safe for now.”

Glen reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Come on. I’ve got a little time before the next scene. Let me show you the soundstage—they built this insane set for one of the big sequences.”

As they walked away, Gabby glanced over her shoulder to give Mike a grateful wave, and he nodded in return, a knowing smile on his face.

“So,” Glen said as they headed across the lot, “you thinking about ditching hanging out with me for a production job now?”

Gabby grinned. “Not a chance. But I might have a million questions for you later about how all this works.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Deal. But for now, let me show you my favorite part of this crazy place.”

Gabby trailed alongside Glen as he led her deeper into the maze of the soundstage. The crew buzzed around them, hauling equipment and adjusting lights, their movements smooth and practiced. Glen pointed out details as they walked—the green screens towering behind the carefully crafted sets, the fake rain rig hanging from above, and the hidden wires snaking across the floor.

“You’re geeking out a little, aren’t you?” Glen teased, watching her expression.

“A little?” Gabby replied with a laugh. “I’m geeking out a lot. This is amazing.”

They stopped near a section of the set where a handful of crew members were resetting props and adjusting cameras. One of them, a younger guy in a headset, noticed Glen and waved. “Hey, man, perfect timing. We’re about to run some blocking for the next scene. Can we borrow you for a minute?”

Glen turned to Gabby, his smile warm. “Do you want to stick around and watch?”

“Of course,” Gabby said eagerly.

As Glen walked off to join the cast gathering near the set, a woman in a production vest approached Gabby, holding a clipboard and smiling. “First time on a set?”

Gabby nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a little,” the woman said with a laugh. “I’m Marie, one of the ADs. Glen’s mentioned you before.”

“He has?” Gabby asked, her cheeks warming slightly.

Marie nodded. “Yeah, he wouldn’t stop talking about how excited he was for you to maybe come visit.” She paused, then glanced at Gabby thoughtfully. “You want to try something?”

“Try what?” Gabby asked curiously.

Marie motioned for Gabby to follow her over to a camera rig set up near the monitors. “We’re about to do a lighting test before the scene. You can help me adjust the focus if you want.”

Gabby hesitated for only a second before nodding. “I’d love to.”

Marie handed her a headset and explained how to adjust the lens as the camera operator walked her through it. Gabby bit her lip in concentration as she carefully rotated the focus ring, watching the image on the monitor sharpen.

“That’s perfect,” Marie said, her tone approving.

Gabby stepped back, beaming, as the crew prepared for the test. Glen glanced her way from his mark, a proud smile spreading across his face when he saw her with the camera team.

“Looks like you’re a natural,” Glen called out teasingly.

“Don’t distract her,” Marie scolded playfully, waving him off.

Gabby laughed, her nerves melting away as she realized how much she was enjoying the hands-on experience. When the test was done, Marie thanked her and suggested she take a seat near the director’s monitors for the upcoming scene.

Gabby hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way.”

The director, a tall man with glasses and an air of calm authority, overheard and smiled. “Not at all. Glen told me you’re studying film. Why don’t you come sit with me? I’ll show you how we piece everything together.”

Gabby’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair beside him.

Feeling like she’d won the lottery, Gabby took the seat and leaned forward as the director explained the setup for the scene. He pointed out how the monitors displayed different camera angles and talked about what he was looking for in each take.

“See that shot there?” he said, nodding toward one of the screens. “I’m framing it tight to highlight the tension between the characters. Body language is everything in this moment.”

Gabby nodded, absorbing his words like a sponge. She asked questions here and there, her excitement evident, and the director answered each one patiently.

When the cameras rolled, Gabby watched in awe as Glen and the other actors brought the scene to life. It was surreal, seeing him shift so effortlessly into his character, his expressions raw and magnetic.

She was so engrossed in the process that she didn’t notice Glen approaching after the take was finished until he leaned down beside her chair.

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing.

Gabby jumped slightly, then turned to him with a grin. “This is incredible.”

Glen chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Glad to see they’re putting you to work. I was worried you’d get bored.”

“Not a chance,” she said, her smile widening.

Glen kissed the top of her head, his gaze soft. “I’m glad you’re here, Gabby.”

She looked up at him, her chest swelling with warmth. “Me too.”

The soundstage buzzed with activity, but the atmosphere had lightened considerably as the day wore on. The football field set, complete with bright yard lines and towering goalposts, sprawled across one end of the training facility. It was an impressive replica, so lifelike that it felt like stepping onto an actual field.

Glen stood near the fifty-yard line, tossing a football back and forth with his niece and nephew. The twins, were buzzing with energy, darting back and forth as Glen barked mock plays like a quarterback.

“Princess, you’re wide receiver!” Glen called, pointing to the end zone. “Little man, I need you to block me!”

His nephew puffed out his chest and crouched like a lineman, ready to take on the imaginary defense. His niece, meanwhile, sprinted downfield, her arms outstretched as Glen launched a perfect spiral toward her.

Gabby, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but smile. She’d been working with the director and camera team for most of the afternoon, getting an inside look at how the shots were framed and coordinated. The lead cameraman nudged her and grinned.

“You’ve got a good eye,” he said, handing her one of the cameras. “Why don’t you give it a try? Let’s see what you can do with a moving target.”

“Really?” Gabby’s eyes widened as she accepted the camera, careful with her movements.

The director chuckled. “Go ahead. Just follow Glen and the kids. Capture the energy.”

Gabby positioned herself, gripping the camera tightly as she focused on the scene. Through the lens, she watched Glen scoop up his nephew in one arm and spin him around, both of them laughing. His niece came charging back with the football, and Glen gently tugged it from her grip before hoisting her onto his shoulders.

“Touchdown!” Glen shouted, lifting his niece high as she stretched her arms in triumph.

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh as she filmed, adjusting the camera to capture the movement. She zoomed in on Glen’s face, his wide smile and easy laugh making her heart flutter. She followed the twins’ gleeful expressions as they ran circles around him, their joy contagious.

After a few minutes, Gabby lowered the camera and handed it back to the lead cameraman, who played the footage on a nearby monitor. She leaned in, watching intently as the scene replayed on the screen.

“That’s solid,” the director said, nodding in approval. “You’ve got a natural instinct for framing. See how you caught that moment when Glen spun the boy around? That’s gold. It feels authentic.”

Gabby’s cheeks flushed with pride. “Really? I was just trying to keep up with them.”

“That’s half the battle,” the cameraman said with a grin. “Capturing energy like that takes skill, especially on running targets. You’ve got it.”

As Gabby leaned closer to study the screen, Lauren stood off to the side. She watched Gabby with a small smile, then turned her gaze to Glen, who had come over to grab a water bottle. He followed her line of sight and froze for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in Gabby’s excitement.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Lauren teased, her tone low and warm.

Glen tore his eyes away and looked at his sister with mock indignation. “What are you talking about?”

Lauren smirked and nudged him with her elbow. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Look at her. She’s perfect for you, Glen. Sweet, smart, funny. And she loves all of this,” she said, gesturing to the set around them.

Glen glanced back at Gabby, who was deep in conversation with the director, her hands gesturing animatedly as she asked another question. A smile tugged at his lips, wide and unrestrained.

Lauren shifted her son to her other hip and softened her voice. “Mom loves her. The family loves her. And you? You��re happier with her than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

Glen exhaled, the weight of Lauren’s words settling in his chest. “She’s... she’s something,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Understatement of the year,” Lauren teased. Then, her tone shifted, gentle and encouraging. “Don’t let her go, Glen. She’s good for you.”

Glen nodded, but his heart raced as he looked at Gabby again. He had loved her before—he was sure of it—but seeing her here, in his world, thriving and excited, made him fall even harder. It scared him, how deeply he cared for her. He’d never fallen like this, never pictured a future with someone as vividly as he could with her.

As Gabby turned to look at him, her face lighting up with a smile, Glen felt the corners of his own mouth lift.

“Go on,” Lauren said, giving him a playful nudge. “Go get your girl.”

Glen chuckled and took a sip of his water, heading back toward Gabby with his heart full.

Glen approached Gabby, his footsteps slow and deliberate, as if savoring the sight of her. She was still leaning over the monitor, her face alight with fascination as the cameraman explained how certain angles could emphasize movement and emotion. Her questions came quickly, eager and curious, and her hands gestured animatedly as she spoke.

“Having fun?” Glen asked, his voice warm as he stepped beside her.

Gabby turned, startled, but her face softened the moment she saw him. “This is amazing, Glen,” she said, her excitement bubbling over. “I mean, I knew film sets were complicated, but seeing how everything works up close? It’s just... it’s a dream.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing against her lower back as he leaned in slightly. “Told you it’d be fun. You’re a natural, by the way. Everyone’s saying it.”

Gabby blushed, biting her lip as she looked down at the monitor. “I don’t know about that. I just got lucky with the shot.”

Glen tilted his head, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder. “Come on, Gab. Give yourself some credit. You’ve got the instincts for this.”

Her smile grew as she met his gaze. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, his tone soft but firm. His hand lingered at her back, a comforting weight that made her feel steady even as her heart raced.

Unbeknownst to them, Lauren stood a few yards away, her phone in hand as she recorded a quick Instagram story. The twins were running around on the field, her son attempting a clumsy somersault while her daughter tried to tackle him. Lauren laughed quietly, her camera panning the scene.

But as she shifted her phone slightly, the frame caught Gabby and Glen. They were close, their heads inclined toward each other as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Glen’s hand moved from her back to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

“You’re amazing,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough for Gabby to hear.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks warm. “Glen...”

Before she could say anything more, the twins came barreling toward them, each of them holding a football high above their head.

“Uncle Boom Boom! We need you!” His nephew shouted, skidding to a stop in front of them. “She says she can tackle you, but she can’t.” He added pointing to his sister.

Glen laughed, stepping back from Gabby but letting his hand slide down her arm, squeezing her hand briefly before letting go. “Oh, yeah? You want to prove it?”

His niece puffed out her chest. “I can take you down!”

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, tough girl,” Glen said, grinning as he jogged back onto the field with the twins.

Gabby watched him go, her heart fluttering as she traced the spot on her arm where his touch lingered. She turned back to the monitor, but the warmth in her chest made it hard to focus.

Meanwhile, Lauren posted the Instagram story with a caption: Family time on set! The twins are in heaven. 🏈🎥

Minutes later, her phone buzzed with comments. Most were about the kids, but one caught her eye:

“Wait... who’s that with Glen? 👀”

Lauren’s brows shot up as she replayed the video, realizing the camera had caught more than just the twins. In the background, Gabby and Glen’s tender moment played out in soft focus, their affection unmistakable. Lauren smirked, muttering under her breath, “Well, that’s one way to make it official.”

As Glen jogged back toward Gabby with his nephew on his shoulders and his niece clinging to his arm, Lauren couldn’t resist snapping another picture.

“You guys look good together,” she teased when he passed her.

Glen shot her a warning glance, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Don’t start, Lauren.”

“Oh, I already have,” she said, waving her phone at him.

Gabby, oblivious to the exchange, was still engrossed in a conversation with the cameraman. But when Glen stopped beside her, his nephew still perched on his shoulders, she looked up and smiled.

“Back already?” she asked, her tone light.

“Couldn’t stay away,” Glen said, his voice teasing but his eyes sincere.

His nephew leaned down and whispered loudly to Gabby, “He likes you a lot. He like likes you.”

Glen groaned, pulling him down from his shoulders and ruffling his hair. “Alright, buddy, that’s enough from you.”

Gabby laughed, her cheeks flushing as Glen gave her an apologetic smile. Lauren, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but grin. She didn’t need to say it—Glen and Gabby were a perfect match, and everyone could see it.

Later in the day, as the crew was wrapping up and the twins were running around with an endless supply of energy, Lauren strolled over to where Gabby and Glen were standing by one of the production carts. Gabby was holding a bottle of water Glen had handed her, her expression still glowing from their earlier moment on the field. Glen stood next to her, relaxed, his arms crossed as they chatted casually.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Lauren called out with a teasing lilt.

Both Gabby and Glen turned to her, but Gabby’s cheeks instantly flushed at the nickname.

“Lauren,” Glen warned, though his tone was amused. “What are you up to now?”

Lauren smirked, holding up her phone. “So, funny thing... I posted a quick Instagram story earlier of the twins on the field.”

“That’s cute,” Gabby said, her smile brightening.

Lauren raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, it was cute—until my phone started blowing up with comments.” She bit her lip, trying to suppress a grin as she opened the app. “I didn’t even realize you two were in the background until someone pointed it out.”

Glen’s brow furrowed as he leaned closer. “What are you talking about?”

Lauren handed him her phone, showing him the story. The video started with Glen’s nephew attempting a somersault and his sister tackling him, but in the corner of the frame, Gabby and Glen were clearly visible. The brief moment of Glen brushing Gabby’s hair back and leaning closer to her was unmistakable, even if it was slightly out of focus.

Gabby’s eyes widened as she leaned over to see the screen. “Oh no...”

Glen tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “That’s not so bad,” he said casually.

Lauren snorted. “Keep watching.” She tapped the comment section, scrolling through the messages.

“Who’s the mystery girl with Glen?”“That’s not just a co-star moment, right? 👀”“They look so cute together! Are they dating??”“Glen’s off the market?? My heart!”

Gabby groaned softly, bringing a hand to her forehead. “Lauren, you didn’t tell me I was in the background.”

Lauren held up her hands defensively. “I didn’t know! I swear! I was focused on the twins. I didn’t realize I caught you guys until someone commented on it.”

Glen chuckled, scrolling through the comments with an air of nonchalance. “Looks like the internet has already decided we’re a couple.” He handed the phone back to Lauren, his smile widening as he turned to Gabby. “Guess we’re trending now.”

Gabby looked mortified, fidgeting with the cap of her water bottle. “Glen, this could get out of hand. What if people start... I don’t know, speculating things? Or making up rumors?”

He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not like we have anything to hide. Let them talk—it doesn’t change anything for us.”

Her eyes searched his, still unsure. “You’re not worried about it?”

“Not even a little,” he said with a shrug. “People are going to say what they want, Gab. If it gets too out of hand my team will handle it.”

Lauren watched the exchange, her smirk softening into a warm smile. “You guys are seriously the most wholesome couple I’ve ever seen,” she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Gabby shook her head, though the tension in her shoulders eased a bit. “You’re not helping, Lauren.”

Glen chuckled, sliding an arm around Gabby’s shoulders and pulling her a little closer. “She’s right, though,” he said lightly. “We’re pretty great together.”

Gabby’s lips twitched, her nervousness melting into a small laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “But you love me.”

Lauren clapped her hands once, drawing their attention. “Alright, enough with the PDA for now. Let’s go grab the twins before they tear down the set.”

As Lauren walked off toward the field, Gabby glanced up at Glen. “Are you sure this won’t be a big deal?”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “It’s only a big deal if we let it be,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “And besides...” He grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “I’d post about you myself and tell the world that I have the most amazing girlfriend in the world if I thought it’d make you feel better.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching into a playful smile. “Oh yeah? What would you even post?”

Glen’s grin widened as he pretended to think. “Something like, ‘Found this gorgeous girl on set today—don’t know how I got so lucky.’”

Gabby laughed, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “Smooth. Real smooth.”

“I try,” he teased, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “But seriously, I wouldn’t mind telling everyone about you.”

She paused for a moment, her smile turning warm. “I know,” she said softly. Gabby’s hand slipped into his as they turned to follow Lauren toward the field. “But maybe hold off on posting anything for now,” she added with a teasing glance. “Let’s not give the internet too much to work with.”

“Deal,” Glen said, squeezing her hand lightly. “For now.”

As the evening wound down, Lauren gathered the twins, their energy finally waning after a long day of excitement. “I’m taking these two wild ones back to the hotel before they get their second wind,” she said, adjusting her son’s jacket.

Gabby bent down to ruffle his hair and give his sister a quick hug. “I can go with you if you want,” she offered, glancing at Lauren. “I need to check into my room.”

Before Lauren could answer, Glen chimed in, his hand lightly brushing Gabby’s arm. “Or you could stay with me tonight,” he said, his voice soft but firm. His gaze met hers, a flicker of hope and longing in his eyes.

Gabby felt warmth spread through her chest as she smiled and nodded. “Okay,” she said softly.

Lauren smirked knowingly but didn’t comment. “Alright, you two. Have a good night,” she said, ushering the kids toward the car. She threw a playful glance over her shoulder at Glen. “Don’t let her wear you out, Glen.”

Glen laughed, shaking his head at his older sister’s relentless teasing. “Night, Lauren.”

Gabby waved as the car pulled away, leaving her alone with Glen under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. He slipped his hand into hers, their fingers lacing together, and led her to his car. The drive back to his short term apartment was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only existed between two people deeply comfortable with each other.

When they arrived, Glen unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let Gabby in first. The apartment was modest but cozy, with a lived-in feel that came from weeks of use. A stack of scripts sat on the coffee table alongside an empty coffee mug and a notebook filled with scribbled notes.

“Home sweet home,” Glen said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the arm of the couch.

Gabby stepped further inside, taking in the space that was simple but cozy. “This is nice,” she said with a smile, turning back to face him.

He took a step closer, his expression softening as his eyes met hers. “Yeah, but it’s missing something,” he murmured.

Gabby tilted her head. “What’s that?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low and steady.

The words made her heart flutter, and before she could respond, Glen closed the distance between them, his hands finding her waist as he leaned down. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft and slow but quickly deepened, days and weeks of longing and unspoken emotion pouring into the moment.

Gabby’s arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate. There were no cameras, no family members—just the two of them, finally alone. Glen’s hands slipped up her back, holding her tightly against him as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

When they finally pulled back, both slightly breathless, Glen rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

Gabby smiled, her hands still resting on his shoulders. “Me too,” she whispered.

Gabby looked up at Glen, her heart still racing from the intensity of their kiss. There was something so simple yet profound about being alone with him like this. After weeks of distance—both physical and emotional—they were back together again.

Glen cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as he studied her face, as if memorizing every detail. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his voice rough with the rawness of the admission.

Gabby smiled, feeling the warmth spread through her. “I’ve missed you too. Every single day,” she said, her voice soft but steady. She pressed her hands over his, holding them in place. “It’s just… it’s not the same without you. I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to having you around until you weren’t.”

Glen leaned in again, this time planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He held her there for a moment, his arms wrapped around her like he was afraid to let go. When he pulled back, he gazed at her, his eyes intense. “You know, it’s funny. I never realized how much I’d gotten used to having you around, either. But as soon as I’m not with you, it feels like something is missing.”

Gabby chuckled softly, resting her head against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat steady under her ear. “You’re probably just trying to get me to stay longer,” she teased, her fingers tracing absent patterns over his shirt.

He chuckled in response, the sound so genuine that it made her heart skip a beat. “Maybe,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind if you did stay longer. I think we’re both used to the distance, but it doesn’t mean it gets easier.”

Gabby nodded, her hand moving up to rest over his heart. “I know what you mean,” she said. Her fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt, tracing the faint outline of the muscles beneath. “Being away from you… it just makes me want to be here more.”

Glen broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “I know you got a hotel with Lauren. But you should stay here while you’re visiting,” he said, his hand slipping to her back, pulling her closer.

Gabby’s breath caught in her throat. She had been so focused on the idea of being together—of just being in the same space—that the thought of staying with Glen instead of the hotel Lauren and the kids were staying at hadn’t fully registered.

“You mean here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “In your apartment?”

His eyes softened. “Yeah. I want to be with you, Gabby. Just… us.”

Gabby nodded with a small smile and then said “Okay.”

Glen’s lips curved into a grin as he looked at her. “Okay?”

Gabby’s smile widened and she nodded. Glen then took her hand and led her over to the couch. He sat down and then pulled her down with him. Gabby rested against Glen's side, her head nestled into the curve of his shoulder while his arm draped casually around her. The faint hum of the city outside filtered through the windows, blending with the soft background music Glen had turned on earlier.

For a while, they didn’t speak, just enjoying the stillness. Glen’s fingers ran through Gabby’s hair, his movements slow and soothing, while her hand rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. It was such a simple moment, but to Gabby, it felt perfect—like they’d carved out their own little bubble, separate from the demands of the world outside.

Gabby let herself relax completely, her body sinking into his warmth. It was in these moments—the ones without fanfare, without anything but their presence—that she felt the most connected to him. He made her feel seen, steady, safe.

After a while, Glen glanced at the clock on the wall. “You ready to call it a night?”

Gabby nodded, but neither of them moved at first. She let out a content sigh, snuggling closer for just a few more seconds before finally sitting up. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up.”

Glen chuckled, standing and stretching before offering her a hand. She took it, and he led her to the bedroom, their fingers still laced together. The apartment’s bedroom was simple but cozy, with soft lighting that cast a golden glow over the space. Gabby perched on the edge of the bed, slipping off her shoes while Glen disappeared into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.

When he came back out, his hair slightly damp and his face freshly washed, Gabby was already in one of his oversized t-shirts, her legs tucked under her as she scrolled through her phone. She looked up when he entered, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Much better,” she teased, setting her phone aside as he crossed the room and climbed into bed beside her.

“What, you didn’t like me sweaty and disheveled?” Glen joked, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down so she was lying beside him.

Gabby giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I mean, you’re always handsome, but I think I prefer you like this.”

They settled under the covers, Gabby resting her head against Glen’s chest as his hand found its way to her back, tracing lazy circles. Neither of them said much, the silence between them speaking louder than any words. Gabby could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear, grounding her, reminding her of how deeply she cared for him.

Glen’s voice broke through the quiet, soft but curious. “So, whose idea was it for you to come to Atlanta?”

Gabby tilted her head slightly to look at him, a sleepy smile tugging at her lips. “Mine,” she said simply. “Lauren helped me work out the details, but it was my idea.”

His brow lifted slightly, and he let out a quiet laugh, though there was a note of something else beneath it. “You should’ve told me,” he said, his tone warm but a little chiding. “I could’ve helped. Made sure you had flights sorted, a rental car…all of it.”

Gabby propped herself up on her elbow, looking at him with a playful yet affectionate expression. “And ruin the surprise?” she teased. “No way. The whole point was for you not to know I was coming.”

Glen let out a low chuckle, his hand moving to rest on her waist. “I get that, but still… you shouldn’t have to handle all of that on your own. I want to take care of you, Gabby.”

Her teasing demeanor softened at his words, and she reached out to gently cup his face. “I know, and you already do,” she said, her voice full of sincerity. “But this was something I wanted to do for you. I wanted to surprise you because I knew you had a couple of bad days. And I missed you.”

His hand slid up her back, fingers grazing her hairline as he gazed at her. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone put this much thought into doing something for me.”

Gabby leaned down, brushing a soft kiss to his lips. “Well, get used to it,” she whispered against his mouth, a playful smile returning. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m definitely not done doing nice things for you.”

Glen pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as his smile widened. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t want you to.”

She settled back into his chest, her fingers lightly tracing the tattoo on his arm. “And for the record,” she added, her voice quiet now, “Lauren wasn’t going to let me handle it alone either. She made me let her book my hotel.”

Glen laughed softly, the sound rumbling beneath her cheek. “That sounds like her.” He tightened his arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just promise me next time, you’ll let me know, okay? Surprises are great, but I’d rather make things easier for you.”

Gabby smiled, her eyes already drifting shut. “Fine,” she mumbled sleepily.

They fell into a comfortable silence again, their bodies relaxed and warm under the covers. Glen continued to hold her close, his fingers brushing through her hair as he stared up at the ceiling, feeling more content than he had in weeks. Gabby’s soft breaths against his chest were the only sound in the room, and he let himself savor the moment, thinking how lucky he was to have her there.

Glen’s hand gently stroked Gabby’s arm, the quiet intimacy of the moment grounding them both. After a while, he broke the silence, his voice light with a hint of excitement. “You know, my birthday’s coming up in a month..the guys were talking to me about it earlier.”

Gabby shifted slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. “Oh yeah? What’s the big plan? Some crazy boys trip?”

“Well,” Glen began, a grin tugging at his lips, “I’ve got about a week after this project wraps before I head to London for the next one. Tanner and Chord are putting something together for me in Austin. Just a chill weekend—Friday at my place, then Saturday, we’re going to the Longhorns game. Texas versus Georgia.”

Gabby smiled at the way his eyes lit up as he talked about it. “Sounds like fun,” she said softly.

“It will be,” he agreed. “But you know what would make it even better?”

“What’s that?”

“You coming with me,” he said, his tone casual but hopeful.

Gabby froze for a moment, her lips parting like she was going to respond, but no words came out right away. Glen noticed the subtle hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he added quickly, trying to keep the mood light. “And you can say no. But… it’d mean a lot to me if you were there.”

She swallowed, forcing a smile. “I don’t know, Glen. It’s your birthday. I don’t want to mess up whatever your friends have planned.”

“Mess up?” he echoed with a soft laugh, clearly amused. “Gabby, you’re my girlfriend. You being there wouldn’t ruin anything—it’d make it better.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she dropped her gaze to his chest, absently tracing a pattern on his shirt with her finger. “I know, it’s just… I don’t want to get in the way.”

Glen shifted, gently tilting her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “You could never be ‘in the way.’ You’re part of my life now, and that includes stuff like this. Birthdays, hanging out with my friends, all of it. I want you there, Gabby.”

His sincerity was impossible to miss, and Gabby’s heart softened, though the nervous knot in her stomach remained. She hesitated again, then finally sighed, deciding it was time to share the real reason. “It’s not just that,” she admitted quietly.

“Then what is it?” Glen asked, his tone gentle, encouraging her to continue.

Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as she spoke. “My dad… he’s going to be at that game.”

That gave Glen pause, though his expression remained calm. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Gabby said with a nod. “He went to Georgia in college, and he always tries to make at least one game a year. This year, he and my uncle decided on Texas versus Georgia in Austin.”

Glen’s lips curved into a smile. “Well, that’s perfect! I’ll get to meet him.”

Gabby’s eyes widened slightly, and she sat up a little, leaning against the headboard. “I don’t know if ‘perfect’ is the word I’d use,” she said, her voice tinged with nervous laughter.

Glen followed her lead, sitting up beside her. “Why not?”

“Because my dad is… protective,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s a great guy, don’t get me wrong. Loving, supportive, all of that. But when it comes to me, he can be… intense. And I haven’t brought anyone home to meet him since mom died. And he’s become even more protective since then.”

Glen leaned back slightly, processing what she was saying. His smile softened into something more reassuring. “Protective, huh? So, what are we talking about here? Big handshake and a couple of probing questions, or am I looking at a full-on FBI levels of interrogation?”

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with nervous energy. “Probably somewhere in the middle. He’s not the ‘scary dad with a shotgun’ type, but he’s definitely going to be paying attention to everything you say and do. And he’s got this look…”

Glen raised an eyebrow. “A look?”

“Yeah,” Gabby said, nodding emphatically. “It’s like… this silent, stern thing he does when he’s trying to read someone. It’s not exactly intimidating, but it’s definitely unnerving if you’re not used to it.”

Glen chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Gabby, I get it—you’re nervous about me meeting your dad, and that’s okay. But I’m not afraid of a little overprotective dad energy. And I get that this is a big deal for you—it’s a big deal for me, too. But meeting him at the game? Honestly, that sounds like a great way to break the ice. Something casual, low-pressure, and I won’t have to worry about him interrogating me over a formal dinner or something.”

Gabby laughed softly, though her nerves still lingered. “You say that now. You haven’t seen him in full-on dad mode.”

“Gabby,” Glen said, his tone turning serious but still gentle. He reached out, taking her hand in his. “I know you’re nervous, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to protect me from your dad. I want to meet him. I want to know the guy who helped make you who you are.”

Her chest tightened at his words, emotion welling up in her throat. “You make it sound so simple,” she murmured.

“Because it is,” he said with a soft smile. “I like you, Gabby. A lot. And I’m pretty sure that if he sees how much I care about you, he’s going to like me, too. You already met my family, now it’s time for me to meet yours.”

She managed a small smile, her hand tightening around his. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Glen said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “And hey, if he’s a Georgia fan, we already have something to bond over. I can compliment his team…before Texas crushes them.”

Gabby rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing.

“But seriously, Gabby, if you’re not ready for me to meet him yet, that’s okay. I won’t push you to come down for the game. But if you are okay with it, I’d really like you to come and I’d really like to meet your dad.”

Gabby exhaled slowly, her nerves easing just a little. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll come to Austin.”

His grin was instant and contagious, and he leaned in to kiss her, his lips lingering against hers. “Good. Because there’s no way I was celebrating my birthday without you.”

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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crossfandomskylines · 4 days ago

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Idk if this is wrong but on your masterminds, the summary for In the Space Between day Carly and Glenn but the OFC seems to be called Gabby? Haha

I really loved your Angst one! I’m a sucker for a happy ending so I’m super glad they’re both ready to work it out 🥺

I will get that fixed! I have a WIP with a different OC named Carly and probably accidentally put the wrong name! Thank you for letting me know!

And thank you! I’m glad you liked the angst one! I was kind of struggling with how to end it but didn’t really want to end it in a break up because I am a sucker for a happy or at least happier ending 😂

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crossfandomskylines · 5 days ago

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Just wondering if we’ll get a chapter in ITSB of Glen and Gabby going to a Longhorns game? 😊

Yes! I planned on incorporating the Texas vs Georgia Game that Glen went to with his family and friends in October into the timeline!

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crossfandomskylines · 6 days ago

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In the Space Between: Chapter 24

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby navigate their time apart as best they can, but both are struggling as the distance feels bigger this time after Glen's surprise visit.

Word Count: 1.9k (Shorter filler chapter here, next one will be longer!)

A/N: As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

GABBY’S P.OV.

Gabby adjusted the strap of her backpack as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, the familiar creak of the steps filling the quiet evening air. Another day, another lecture, another stack of notes to review. Her routine hadn’t changed much since Glen left—it was all as predictable as it had been before. But now, everything felt heavier, quieter, and somehow incomplete.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted by the emptiness of her apartment. The silence seemed to press against her ears as she flicked on the lights, illuminating the small but cozy space. Glen, and by extension Brisket’s absence hit her immediately, as it always did. The apartment felt far too still without the soft padding of his paws or the way both of them would sprawl out on the couch.

Gabby tossed her keys into the bowl by the door and set her bag down with a sigh. The weight of her day lingered, but it wasn’t the tests or lectures that drained her. It was the moments like this—the coming home to an empty apartment, the absence of Glen’s laugh filling the space, the quiet reminder that he was 2,100 miles away.

She moved to the couch and sank into the cushions, pulling one of Glen’s hoodies off the armrest. It still smelled faintly of him, a mix of his cologne and whatever laundry detergent he used. She pulled it over her head, letting the fabric swallow her as she curled her legs beneath her.

Gabby thought she’d gotten used to the long stretches of time without Glen during his filming schedules. She’d done it before, distracting herself with school, friends, and the occasional weekend shifts at the coffee shop around the corner where she had started working part time.

But this time was different. This time, she’d had a taste of what it was like to have him close—those stolen thirty-six hours together, sharing takeout on the couch, and waking up to find him next to her. Sometimes she thinks it would have been easier if he hadn’t surprised her. But then she also couldn’t find it within herself to regret his visit.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping her out of her thoughts. Gabby reached for it, smiling faintly at the notification. A text from Glen.

Glen: Hey, babe. Just wrapped for the day. You still awake?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a warmth spreading through her chest. He always made time to check in, no matter how long or grueling his day had been.

Gabby: Always for you. How’s my favorite actor holding up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Glen: Tired. Miss you like crazy. How’s school? Brisket says hi.

She laughed softly, picturing Brisket trotting around the set like he owned the place.

Gabby: School’s fine. Same old, same old. Missing you like crazy too. Give Brisket a hug from me.

The conversation continued, filling the emptiness of her apartment with his presence, even if it was just through words on a screen. But as much as she loved these moments, they always left her wanting more. She wanted to hear his voice, to feel his arms around her, to have him here—not just in texts and late-night calls but in the little moments.

Gabby pulled her knees to her chest, staring at the phone long after their conversation ended. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on the distance, that she’d focus on her own life while Glen was away. But tonight, like so many others, she found herself wishing the weeks would pass faster, that somehow she could fast-forward to the moment when he’d walk through her door again.

She shook her head, forcing herself to stand. There was no use wallowing, not when there was a stack of notes waiting for her and a paper due by the end of the week.

GLEN’S P.OV.

Glen leaned back in the folding chair, exhaustion settling into his bones as the crew bustled around him. The lights above the set were dimmed now, signaling the end of another grueling day. His call time was at 6 a.m., and it was already nearing midnight, but he wasn’t in a rush to leave. The empty stillness of his rented apartment wasn’t exactly inviting.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen lighting up to reveal his favorite photo of Gabby as his lock screen—her sitting cross-legged on his couch, wearing one of his oversized shirts with a mug of coffee cradled in her hands, her laugh mid-sound. Just looking at it made something in his chest ache.

Glen unlocked his phone and scrolled through his camera roll, landing on a selfie they’d taken the day before he left. Gabby had kissed his cheek just as he’d snapped it, and his grin in the photo was as wide as hers. He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. She always managed to bring that out of him, even when she wasn’t trying.

His thumb hovered over the screen before he tapped into their text thread.

Glen: Wrapped for the day. Coffee here sucks. What’s your go-to order again?

He stared at the message for a moment, debating whether to send it. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Gabby’s order—he could probably recite it in his sleep. But these little conversations, no matter how mundane, made him feel closer to her. He pressed send and locked the phone, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Hey, Glen,” a crew member called, walking past with a clipboard. “We’re set to pick up tomorrow morning where we left off.” He nodded absently, offering a quick “Thanks.”

Tomorrow morning felt too close already, but at least the work kept his mind occupied. Most days, he barely had time to eat between scenes, much less dwell on how much he missed Gabby. But it was in the quiet moments—like now, when the set was emptying out and the adrenaline of the day began to fade—that the longing crept in.

His phone buzzed in his hand, pulling his attention back.

Gabby: You know my order. But since you forgot: iced chai latte, add vanilla, with oat milk. ;)”

He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair.

Glen: I didn’t forget. Just wanted to talk to you. Miss you, babe.

Gabby: Miss you, too. Get some rest, okay? You’ve been working so hard.

Rest. The word felt foreign lately. Between the pressure of nailing his scenes, the long hours on set, and the constant buzz of the production schedule, sleep had become an afterthought. And yet, every free moment he had, he spent thinking about Gabby—texting her, scrolling through pictures, wishing she was here to keep him grounded.

He pocketed his phone and stood, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders. A few crew members lingered nearby, chatting quietly as they packed up the last of the equipment. Glen gave them a small wave as he headed out, his mind already wandering back to her.

Five weeks. That’s how long they had to be apart. It sounded manageable when they discussed it, but now, each day felt like an uphill climb. He thought back to her voice on the phone last night, soft and warm, grounding him even through the static. She had a way of making everything feel easier, even when she wasn’t physically there.

Glen stepped into the cool Atlanta night and pulled his jacket tighter around him. As he walked to the car waiting to take him back to his apartment, he found himself pulling his phone out again, snapping a quick photo of the empty street in front of him.

Glen: Midnight walks in ATL. Wish you were here.

GABBY’S P.OV.

The third day without a call from Glen left Gabby feeling restless. She tried to keep herself busy—pouring over class readings, taking extra shifts at the coffee shop—but nothing distracted her from the gnawing sense that something was wrong. Glen’s texts had been short and sporadic, his usual humor and warmth absent. She missed the sound of his voice, the way he always managed to make her laugh no matter how stressful her day had been.

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table: 9:15 PM. It was later than usual, and her phone sat silent on the pillow beside her. Gabby sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest as she scrolled mindlessly through her messages with Glen, rereading the playful exchanges from last week right after he left.

It had only been ten days since he’d left. So why did it feel like it had been weeks or even months.

Her phone buzzed suddenly, and she nearly dropped it in her haste to answer.

“Hey,” Glen’s voice came through, low and tired.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting up straighter. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

“Never,” he murmured, though his usual playfulness wasn’t there. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s been...a rough couple of days.”

Gabby’s heart sank. “What’s going on?”

He sighed heavily, the sound tugging at her chest. “It’s just one of those days. Or weeks, I guess. We’re trying to get this big scene right, but it’s not coming together. The director’s frustrated, the cast is tense, and I keep feeling like I’m the problem. Like I’m not delivering.”

“You’re not the problem, Glen,” Gabby said firmly, wishing she could reach through the phone and pull him into a hug.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice thick with frustration. “I feel like I can’t get out of my own head. Every time I think I’ve nailed it, someone has a note, or the timing’s off, or the camera angle needs to change. It’s just...exhausting.”

Gabby’s chest tightened. She could hear how much this was weighing on him, and the fact that she couldn’t physically be there for him made her feel helpless. “I wish there was something I could do,” she said quietly.

“You’re doing it,” he replied, his voice softening just slightly. “Just talking to you helps.”

They talked for a few more minutes, but Glen’s exhaustion was evident. When they hung up, Gabby felt the emptiness of her apartment settle over her again. She lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

As the minutes ticked by, an idea began to form. She grabbed her phone and opened her browser, typing in “flights to Atlanta.” A list of options filled the screen, and she scrolled through them, her heart beating faster at the possibility.

A weekend visit. She could pull it off. She had some savings set aside, and she could shuffle her schedule around to make it work. But doubt began to creep in as quickly as the excitement had.

What if his schedule was too packed for them to spend real time together? What if showing up unannounced only added to his stress? What if...

Gabby shook her head, trying to quiet the voice of uncertainty. She clicked on a flight option and checked the details. The timing worked perfectly—she could fly out Friday evening and return Sunday night.

Her thumb hovered over the “Book Now” button, but she hesitated, her thoughts spinning. She needed help to make this work, someone who could coordinate with Glen’s schedule without tipping him off.

And she knew exactly who to call. Someone who she knew was already trying to plan a visit to Glen on set.

Gabby scrolled to Glen's sister, Lauren’s number and hit dial.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell Series #Glen Powell x OC #Glen Powell x Original Character

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crossfandomskylines · 8 days ago

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Thank you so much! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed it!! Thanks for reblogging it!

Mountain with a View

Pairing: Glen Powell (RPF) x Female Reader

Summary: Amid the beauty of a coastal getaway, years of neglect and unspoken pain come to a head as you confront Glen about the growing distance in your relationship. What begins as heartbreak turns into a moment of raw honesty as Glen opens up about his fears and regrets, and you acknowledge your own role in the cracks between you. With one final promise and a fragile hope for reconciliation, you take the first steps toward rebuilding, finding solace in the quiet reminder that love is worth fighting for.

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing angst, and I think I did okay with it. This took me a little bit longer to write as I've been working on it for about a month or so. This is HEAVILY inspired by the song Mountain with a View by Kelsea Ballerini. I would love to know what you guys think!

The soft light of dawn spilled over the cliffs of Big Sur, painting the rugged coastline in hues of gold and pale pink. Through the open windows of the restaurant, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore filled the air, steady and unchanging, like a heartbeat. The faint smell of salt mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a serene tableau that should have felt like paradise.

The table was elegantly set, each detail carefully curated to reflect the luxury of the resort. Crisp white linens draped over the small table, their edges fluttering slightly in the gentle morning breeze. A delicate vase held a cluster of fresh flowers—soft blues and creams that mirrored the morning sky—while the steam rising from the coffee in front of you curled lazily upward, dissipating into the air. Two empty plates sat perfectly aligned, their white porcelain gleaming in the sunlight.

But your gaze lingered on the chair across from you. Empty.

The untouched menu lay neatly folded beside the vacant place setting, its pristine edges catching the light as if mocking the silence that hung between you and the space meant for him. You glanced down at your own menu, holding it loosely in your hands, though the words blurred together. How many times had you reread the same description of avocado toast? How many times had you looked up, hoping to see him striding through the doorway, his usual easy confidence carrying him to you with a quick apology and a kiss pressed to your temple?

The coffee in your mug had gone lukewarm. You wrapped your hands around it anyway, seeking comfort in its weight, its fleeting warmth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized the server was probably waiting for a sign that you were ready to order.

But you weren’t. Not yet.

This was supposed to be romantic. The thought came unbidden, sharp and bitter. You had envisioned something different for this morning—a quiet meal shared with him, stolen moments of intimacy as the rest of the world slowly woke. Instead, the carefully orchestrated perfection of the setting only made the absence feel heavier, more pronounced. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the soft murmur of other diners scattered across the restaurant’s patio.

You set the menu down and traced a finger along the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out an imaginary crease. The flowers in the vase shifted slightly in the breeze, their petals brushing against one another like a whisper.

And still, the chair across from you remained empty.

You lifted the mug to your lips, sipping the now-tepid coffee and willing the warmth to soothe the knot twisting tighter in your chest. But it didn’t. The weight of the empty chair across from you pressed heavier with each passing minute, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts from circling back to him.

You hadn’t heard from Glen since last night. A text around 9 p.m., short and vague, letting you know something had come up and he wouldn’t make it until today. No explanation, no details. Just: Sorry, won’t make it tonight. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

It was morning now, and tomorrow had become today, yet the chair in front of you remained unoccupied.

The unease gnawed at you, growing sharper with each passing second. This was his trip, his plan to reconnect, to prove that you both still had something worth holding onto. You hadn’t even asked for it; he’d been the one to insist you both needed a weekend away, somewhere beautiful and secluded, just the two of you. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt more like proof of how far apart you’d drifted than any sort of reconciliation.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted softly, and you glanced up to see the waiter standing nearby, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. His smile was polite but edged with curiosity, his gaze flickering briefly to the empty chair before returning to you. “Are you ready to order?”

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth tugging upward as if on autopilot. “I think I’ll give it a few more minutes,” you said, your voice light but strained.

The waiter nodded, his professional demeanor not faltering as he replied, “Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He moved away, weaving between tables to check on a couple sitting near the edge of the patio.

You exhaled slowly and reached for your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. There he was, smiling back at you from the screen.

The photos posted this morning were polished, curated to perfection: behind-the-scenes shots of Glen on set, his arm slung casually around his co-stars; selfies of him laughing with the crew in picturesque European locations; snapshots of stunning landscapes captioned with vague, charming quips. You scrolled through them, one after another, and felt the ache in your chest deepen.

The pictures looked pretty—at least they did on his Instagram.

The sting of it settled in your chest like a sharp, jagged stone. You didn’t even know exactly where he was right now. The last time you’d spoken, he’d mentioned Amsterdam, but that was weeks ago. For all you knew, he could’ve been halfway across the continent by now.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, and for a moment, you debated texting him. Where are you? But you didn’t. Instead, you scrolled further, past the carefully filtered moments that felt so far removed from the reality you were sitting in.

When was the last time you’d had a real conversation with him?

You thought back to your recent texts, the ones that had become increasingly generic, a hollow routine of pleasantries that no longer carried the weight of meaning. Good morning, babe. Goodnight, miss you. The words had once made your heart flutter, a reminder that he was thinking of you even from miles away.

Now, they just felt like muscle memory—sent out of obligation rather than genuine connection.

The memory of those texts brought a bitter taste to your mouth, sharper than the coffee you hadn’t touched in minutes. You set your phone down on the table with a quiet thud, your fingers curling into your lap as you tried to shake the growing resentment clawing its way up your throat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

You stared out past the edge of the terrace, where the cliffs gave way to the water. The waves crashed below in a steady rhythm, their sound blending with the faint hum of conversation from the other tables. You tried to ground yourself in the moment, to let the beauty of the setting take the edge off the bitter thoughts swirling in your mind.

But the ache inside was relentless, and your mind wandered to a different time—a time when things with Glen had felt so much simpler, so much easier.

He used to surprise you with the little things. You could still picture the way he’d walk into the apartment with your favorite coffee in hand, the sleeve scribbled with some inside joke that made you laugh every time. Or the way he’d grab your hand in the middle of the week and say, “C’mon, we’re going somewhere,” without offering a single clue as to where you were headed. You’d end up at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d found on Yelp, or sitting on a blanket in the park with a takeout box between you. He always made it an adventure.

And the way he looked at you back then… you felt like the center of his universe. Like there was no one else in the world who mattered to him the way you did. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you walked into a room, the way he’d pull you close just to tell you how beautiful you looked, even when you were in sweatpants and an old hoodie.

He loved me so much more at twenty-three.

The thought hit you like a wave, pulling you under. A lot can change in six years, it seems.

You used to believe that love grew stronger with time. That the shared memories, the inside jokes, the challenges you overcame together would deepen your connection. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt like the opposite had happened.

You remembered the first time he told you he loved you. You’d been dating for a few months, and he’d taken you to a concert in the city. It had been raining that night, and you both ended up soaked to the bone, laughing as you ran from the venue to his car. Later, as you sat wrapped in his jacket with your hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, he’d looked at you and said it like it was the easiest thing in the world: “I love you.”

You’d believed him then. Completely, utterly, without hesitation.

But now, the words felt like a faint echo of something that had once been vibrant and alive. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said it in a way that felt real. Not over a text, not in the perfunctory way he’d sign off on a phone call—but the way he used to say it, with his eyes locked on yours like he meant every syllable.

You ran a hand through your hair, the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare the past to the present. Maybe this was just what happened in relationships over time. But that didn’t make the emptiness you felt any easier to bear.

The waiter passed by again, and you glanced at the empty chair. Your chest tightened. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to show up, to prove that this trip wasn’t just another empty promise. But as the minutes ticked by, the weight of his absence grew heavier, and the unease in your stomach gave way to something sharper—resentment, maybe.

Six years ago, he would’ve been here. Six years ago, he wouldn’t have let anything stop him.

And now? Now you weren’t sure what was left between you except memories of what used to be.

You let out a quiet breath, your gaze dropping to the untouched menu in front of you. Where did it all go wrong?

It wasn’t always like this—this hollow ache of waiting, of wondering. There was a time when Glen made you feel like you were his whole world. But now, it was like you were living in his orbit, watching him shine while you stood in the shadows, unseen and forgotten.

Your mind drifted back to the first time he missed something important. It wasn’t a big deal, not really. A dinner date that he had to cancel last minute because a meeting with a director ran late. You’d been disappointed, sure, but he made up for it the next night with takeout and your favorite movie. It felt like a one-time thing then—just a fluke in an otherwise perfect relationship.

But then it happened again. An anniversary he forgot until you reminded him the following morning. He’d scrambled to make a dinner reservation, his apology genuine but rushed. And then there was the weekend trip a few years back you’d planned together, the one you’d been looking forward to for weeks, canceled because he got called back to set for reshoots.

You told yourself it was temporary. That it wasn’t his fault. Glen was ambitious, and you admired that about him. He was chasing his dreams, and you wanted to support him.

But gradually, his career began to take priority over everything else—including you.

You remembered the first time you brought it up to him, years ago, around the time all the buzz for Top Gun: Maverick started. His career was taking off in ways neither of you had anticipated, and it felt like he was slipping away from you, one missed moment at a time.

“I just feel like…” you’d hesitated, trying to find the right words, “like we don’t see each other anymore. Like you’re always busy, and I’m just… here.”

He’d pulled you into his arms, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know, babe. I know it’s been a lot lately, but it’s just this project. Once it’s over, things will go back to normal. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. And for a while, you did. But after the whirlwind press tour for Top Gun, there was another project. And then another. Each one bigger than the last. Each one demanding more of his time, his energy, his focus.

The promises he made—that things would slow down, that he’d have more time for you—started to feel like smoke slipping through your fingers. They were never meant to be kept, just empty words to soothe you in the moment.

The last year of your life had proven that. You could count on one hand the number of nights you’d spent together in the same place, and even then, his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. On a script, on a meeting, on whatever was waiting for him the next day.

Sitting at the table now, you wrestled with your emotions. Part of you wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were, that the Glen you’d fallen in love with was still in there somewhere, waiting to come back to you. But deep down, you knew better. You couldn’t unring a bell. You couldn’t undo the years of distance that had grown between you.

The truth sat heavy in your chest, undeniable and cruel: Glen’s career wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep waiting for him to choose you.

The sound of laughter from a nearby table broke your train of thought. You glanced toward the source, a young couple leaning into each other, their faces alight with the kind of joy you remembered so vividly from the early days with Glen.

You’d just decided to flag the waiter and order something when you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Sorry I’m late.”

His voice was smooth, polished, just like everything else about him. Glen always had a way of sounding like nothing was ever truly a big deal, like the world bent itself around his schedule and not the other way around.

You glanced up as he slid into the seat across from you, looking every bit the Hollywood leading man. His perfectly tousled hair caught the soft morning light, and his tailored shirt looked as though it had been pulled straight off a magazine cover. He flashed you the charming smile that used to make your heart race, but now it only made your stomach twist.

“You know how crazy things can get,” he added with a casual shrug, as if the excuse alone should absolve him.

You managed a tight smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I know.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, as Glen picked up the menu. You couldn’t help noticing the faint scent of his cologne, subtle but sharp, lingering in the air. It was the same one he’d worn for years, a scent that used to comfort you. Now it just felt distant, like a memory you couldn’t quite hold onto.

“So,” Glen began, his tone overly light, “how are you liking the trip so far?”

You glanced up at him, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He raised an eyebrow, setting the menu down. “Come on, this place is amazing. I thought you’d love it.”

“It is amazing,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You looked out the open window, watching the waves crash against the cliffs in the distance. “I just… I guess I thought we’d be seeing more of it together.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you meant them to be. Glen shifted in his seat, picking up his water glass and taking a long sip.

“You know how things are,” he said, his tone apologetic but dismissive all the same. “This shoot’s been nonstop, and they’re already talking about reshoots next month. But I wanted us to have this time together, even if it’s just for a couple of days.”

“Right,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus on the vase of fresh flowers between you. White lilies, delicate and pristine.

The clink of silverware against plates at a nearby table filled the silence. You glanced over at Glen, noting the way he avoided meeting your eyes for too long. He folded his hands in front of him, his polished watch catching the light, and for a moment, it felt like you were sitting across from a stranger.

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “So, what looks good here? Have you looked at the menu yet?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “The avocado toast looks nice.”

“Avocado toast,” Glen repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re so predictable.”

It was the kind of teasing that used to make you laugh, the kind that felt endearing. But now it felt different—like he was poking at a version of you he hadn’t taken the time to know in years.

You traced the rim of your coffee mug with your finger, searching for something to say, but nothing came. The silence grew, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the hum of other diners’ conversations.

Finally, Glen flagged down the waiter, ordering for both of you without so much as a glance in your direction. You didn’t correct him, even though you’d changed your mind about what you wanted.

The breakfast felt quiet and suffocating. Every bite of food tasted like nothing, every glance Glen threw your way felt like it came from someone miles away. You wanted to bridge the gap, to say something that would pull him back to you, but the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you focused on the details. The clink of his fork against his plate. The way he scrolled through his phone when he thought you weren’t looking. The half-empty coffee cup he didn’t bother finishing. And the way he kept glancing at his watch, like there was somewhere else he’d rather be. Somewhere else he probably was already planning to go.

Glen’s fork scraped against his plate as he finished the last bite of his omelet. You’d barely touched your avocado toast, pushing it around with your fork until it looked more like a suggestion of a meal than food.

He glanced at you, then down at the untouched plate. “Not hungry?”

You hesitated, forcing a faint smile. “I guess not.”

He nodded absently, flagging down the waiter with a lift of his hand. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his wallet, slipping a card onto the check tray as soon as it arrived. No hesitation, no glance at the total—it was a gesture that screamed effortless privilege, something that used to impress you. Now, it just felt... hollow.

“Ready?” he asked, standing and holding out a hand to you.

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment too long before taking it, his grip firm but impersonal. He helped you out of your chair like it was a reflex, like leading you was second nature but looking at you wasn’t.

The two of you stepped out into the fresh morning air, the salty breeze carrying with it the faint crash of waves from below. Glen slipped on his sunglasses, the mirrored lenses catching the soft light of dawn as he looked down the narrow road leading toward your rental house.

“It’s a nice morning,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Want to walk back?”

You nodded, tucking your arms around yourself. “Sure.”

The two of you set off in silence, your shoes crunching against the gravel path before it gave way to the smooth cobblestones of the resort. The cliffs of Big Sur loomed in the distance, majestic and timeless, their beauty unchanging despite the ache in your chest.

Glen walked with the easy confidence he always carried, his long strides slowing slightly to match your pace. You stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye—his jaw was relaxed, his gaze hidden behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. He looked like someone who belonged in this setting, polished and effortless.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” Glen asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you lied. The truth was, you’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, the sound of distant waves doing nothing to quiet the spiral of thoughts in your head. “You?”

“As good as I could expect,” he replied, flashing you a quick smile. “You know how sleeping on a flight is.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say. The conversation fizzled out again, leaving only the sound of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls to fill the space between you.

As you rounded a corner, the rental house came into view—a charming, weathered cottage perched on the edge of a cliff, its white shutters standing out against the soft gray of its exterior. It had been your idea to book something cozy and intimate, a far cry from the glitzy resort Glen had looked into. At the time, you’d thought it would be a chance for the two of you to reconnect. Now, it just felt like a stage for the growing distance between you.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you lingered for a moment, looking out at the endless expanse of ocean. The salty breeze swept through your hair, carrying with it a question you couldn’t push away:

When did it all start to fall apart?

The soft click of the door closing behind you felt heavier than it should have. Glen dropped his keys onto the small table by the door and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. He moved through the cozy living room with the ease of someone who didn’t notice the growing weight in the air between you.

“So,” he said, heading toward the kitchen, “how’s Emily doing? She’s the friend who is pregnant, right? When’s she due again? We should probably send a gift or something, don’t you think?”

You froze where you stood, his words settling over you like ice.

“The baby shower was four months ago,” you said slowly, your voice tight. “Her daughter’s going to be three months old next week. I showed you a picture of her when she was born.”

Glen paused mid-step, glancing back at you with a sheepish smile. “Right. I—I guess I forgot.”

Forgot.

The word echoed in your mind, dredging up every other time he’d “forgotten”—anniversaries, birthdays, plans you’d made weeks in advance. The ache in your chest swelled, anger and hurt twisting together in a knot that felt impossible to untangle.

“You forgot,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “Of course, you forgot. Why would you remember anything about my life when you’re too busy living your own?”

He frowned, the easy confidence he always carried faltering for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if that could somehow hold you together. “It means you don’t know anything about me anymore, Glen. Not really. You’re so out of touch with my life it’s like you’re not even in it.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising defensively. “I’ve been busy. You know how crazy things get with work.”

“You’ve been busy?” You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? I’ve been here waiting, Glen. Not just today, but for years. Waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to keep your promises.”

Glen ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into his tone. “You knew what you were signing up for when we got together. You knew my career was important to me.”

“And what about me?” The words burst out of you, raw and unfiltered. “Was I ever important to you? Or was I just supposed to sit here and smile and wait while you made excuse after excuse? You promised things would get better, but they haven’t. And I can’t keep waiting for you to show up.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, his voice low and simmering. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I don’t care about you.”

“Do you?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and something far more vulnerable. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave, but I can’t keep doing this, Glen. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine while you’re barely here.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Glen stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he was trying to piece together how things had unraveled so quickly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less defensive. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to try,” you said, your voice cracking. “I want you to fight for this, for us, but you don’t...And I don’t think you ever will.”

His silence was deafening, and in that moment, you knew.

You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as tears burned at the corners of your eyes. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance filtered through the open windows, a cruel reminder of the beauty around you that felt so out of reach.

When Glen finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize you felt this way.”

You turned back to him, your gaze steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “That’s the problem, Glen. You don’t realize anything.”

Glen stayed rooted to the spot, his hands resting on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out. His knuckles whitened against the wood as he gripped it tighter, the weight of your words pressing down on him.

“You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. The phrase hung in the air, raw and unforgiving.

He looked up at you then, his usual polished composure cracking ever so slightly. His brows drew together, and his jaw flexed like he was trying to find the right words and failing. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice wavered, and he stopped. His hand rose to his face, dragging down his jaw as he cleared his throat.

“You really want to leave?” he asked, his voice low and strained, like the words physically hurt to say.

You hadn’t expected him to sound so... vulnerable. It caught you off guard, but it wasn’t enough to soften the ache in your chest.

You turned toward him slowly, your arms still wrapped around yourself. The tightness in your throat returned, and you had to swallow hard before you could respond. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded.

The moment stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Glen exhaled sharply, running both hands through his hair now. He paced a few steps before stopping, his back to you.

“I didn’t... I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. He sounded less like the confident, larger-than-life man you’d fallen for and more like someone lost.

“That’s the problem,” you said softly, not out of anger but exhaustion. “You didn’t realize. You never realize.”

He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours like he was looking for some flicker of hope, something to hold on to. “I know I’ve screwed up, okay? I know I haven’t been... I haven’t been what you needed. But I thought—I thought we were okay. I thought we’d figure it out like we always do.”

“Glen, we haven’t been ‘okay’ in a long time,” you said, your voice breaking on the last word. “I’ve been waiting for things to change, for you to keep your promises, but they’re always just words. And I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

He took a step closer, his expression pleading. “I can do better. I’ll make time for you, for us. Just—don’t give up on me. On us.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over now despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I can't keep doing this. I’ve been holding on for so long, Glen. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of being second to everything else in your life.”

His shoulders slumped, and he took another step closer, hesitating like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

The tightness in your throat became unbearable, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally spoke. “I think I have to be.”

The words hung in the space between you, final and irrevocable. Glen’s face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, might fight harder. But then he just nodded, a hollow acceptance settling over him.

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him like that, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. The sound of the waves outside filled the silence as the two of you stood there, caught between what had been and what would never be again.

The silence between you lingered, heavy and unbearable, until Glen finally broke it. “Do you... do you want me to book you a flight home?”

His voice was low, almost tentative, like he was afraid of your answer. You didn’t look at him, staring down at the floor instead. Your chest tightened at the question, the finality of it. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way he exhaled like the air had been punched out of him. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. You swore you could feel the exact moment his heart broke, could see it in the defeated way he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe, some small part of him had been holding on to the hope that this was all a bad dream—that you’d wake up tomorrow and things would go back to normal.

But your nod was the final blow, and he seemed to understand that. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded once, more to himself than to you, and turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll... I’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away, and you didn’t call after him.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you turned toward the glass doors leading out to the balcony. The cool morning air hit you the moment you stepped outside, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sea. The waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs below, indifferent to the turmoil inside you.

You gripped the edge of the balcony railing, the smooth metal cold beneath your palms. The weight of everything—the fight, the words you’d spoken, the reality of what you’d just done—pressed down on you. It felt suffocating and freeing all at once.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions inside you. This was it. The end of something that had once been everything to you. Six years of memories, of laughter and love, of promises whispered in the dark—they all came rushing back, unbidden, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of them.

But as painful as it was, you knew you’d made the right choice.

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself feel it all—the grief, the anger, the sadness, the relief.

Inside, you could hear faint sounds of movement—Glen probably on the phone, making arrangements to send you home. The home you hadn’t been to in days, but already longed for.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind whip through your hair, and exhaled. You didn’t know what came next, but for now, all you could do was stand here, on this edge, and breathe.

The wind swirled around you as you leaned on the balcony railing, the weight of everything settling deep in your chest. The sound of the waves was steady, soothing even, but it couldn’t drown out the muffled noise that drifted through the open window behind you.

At first, you didn’t register it. But then it came again—a soft, broken sound that made you still.

You turned slightly, glancing over your shoulder toward the bedroom. Through the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze, you saw him. Glen was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

His shoulders were shaking.

You froze, the sight striking something deep inside you. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just a quiet, private unraveling. But it was unmistakable: Glen was crying.

The realization hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. Glen never cried. He’d always been the one to keep his emotions in check, to brush off pain or sadness with a laugh or a quick deflection. The only time you’d ever seen him like this was years ago, when his family lost his grandmother. You’d held him then, wrapping your arms around him as he let himself break, his face buried in your shoulder.

And now, watching him through the window, you were reminded of that moment. Only this time, he wasn’t leaning on you for comfort. He was alone, carrying the weight of what had just happened all by himself.

This wasn’t the polished, distant Glen who had been showing up less and less in your life. This wasn’t the Glen who missed breakfasts or forgot about baby showers. This was the man you fell in love with—the one who used to bring you your favorite coffee on a random Tuesday, who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. This was your Glen.

Your throat tightened as you watched him, your heart aching in a way that felt almost unbearable.

A part of you wanted to go to him, to cross the room and sit beside him, to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. That you didn’t mean it, that you’d stay, that you could find a way to fix things together.

But your feet wouldn’t move.

Because deep down, you knew that even if you comforted him now, it wouldn’t change anything. The years of distance, of broken promises, of waiting and hoping—it wasn’t something a single moment could undo.

Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The sight of him like this—so raw, so unguarded—tugged at something inside you, a small flicker of the love you’d been trying to let go of.

You turned back to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of his quiet sobs carried through the air, cutting through you in a way that made it hard to breathe.

And finally, you let yourself cry too.

The silence between you was heavy, the kind that wrapped itself around you and wouldn’t let go. You stayed on the balcony, gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks, the occasional hitch in your breath the only sound you made.

Inside, Glen hadn’t moved much. You could still see him through the window, his figure barely shifting as he sat on the edge of the bed. His shoulders had stopped shaking, but he hadn’t lifted his head.

Minutes passed, maybe an hour—you weren’t sure. Time felt like it had frozen, stretching out endlessly in this painful limbo.

Finally, you heard him making his way out of the bedroom.

“The earliest flight I could get is this afternoon,” he said, his voice rough and low, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes through the thin veil of the curtain. They were red-rimmed and glassy, his face pale, his jaw tight like he was holding something back.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He stood then, running a hand through his hair before stepping through the sliding glass door onto the patio where you were.. He stopped just short of you, as if there was an invisible barrier between you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears as you waited for him to continue.

“For not making you a priority. For being too caught up in my own world to see what I was doing to you—what I was doing to us.” He paused, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. “I didn’t mean to... I just—I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you stayed quiet, letting him get it out.

“I thought if I just worked hard enough,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “I could make everything perfect for us. The house, the vacations, the security—everything. I thought that’s what you deserved. But... I see now I’ve just been pushing you away.”

The vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a punch to the chest. It was the same look he’d had years ago, the one that made you fall for him in the first place. It was a raw, unguarded honesty that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking again. “I could tell things were getting bad, but I didn’t know how to fix them. And there was so much I couldn’t control—work, schedules, everything. So I buried myself in it, thinking... I don’t know. Maybe if I just stayed busy, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I was losing you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you had to look away, your gaze dropping to the wooden floor of the balcony.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” Glen said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “And if... if you're not happy with...” His voice cracked completely, and he had to stop, clearing his throat before continuing. “If you're not happy with me, then... I’ll understand.”

You looked back at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, it felt like you were staring at the Glen you used to know—the one who used to bring you coffee just because, who used to hold your hand in the car, who used to make you feel like you were the center of his universe.

But that version of him felt so far away now, like a memory you could barely reach.

“I just... I just want you to be happy,” he repeated, his voice barely audible, as if saying it again might make it hurt less.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. They were honest, raw, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they felt real. But they weren’t enough—not anymore.

You turned fully to face him, leaning back against the balcony railing for support. The tightness in your chest didn’t ease, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

“It’s not just you, Glen,” you began, your voice trembling. “I—I let this happen too.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if your admission confused him.

“I’ve been avoiding the hard conversations,” you continued, looking down at your hands, your thumb nervously tracing over the edge of your ring. “Because I was scared. Scared of what they might reveal. Scared that if I said how I really felt, it would all just... fall apart.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, waiting for you to finish.

“I thought that if I just kept quiet, if I just kept pretending everything was fine, then maybe we could get back to the way we used to be eventually. But it hasn’t worked. And now... now I feel like we’ve just been drifting further and further apart.”

You paused, taking a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the edge of the railing.

“I love you, Glen,” you said, your voice breaking on the words. “God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But love isn’t enough—not if you’re never here. Not if you’re always somewhere else, chasing something I can’t reach. I'm never going to be happy if you're not here with me.”

He flinched like the words physically hit him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets.

“I need you to be present,” you said, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I need to feel like I matter to you, like our relationship matters to you. And I haven’t felt that in so long.”

His jaw worked, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find something to say. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“You do matter to me,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You matter more than anything. I just... I didn’t realize how much I was failing you. I thought I was doing all of this for us, but I see now that it’s not enough. That I’m not enough.”

You shook your head quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s not about being enough, Glen. It’s about being here. Being with me, not just physically, but emotionally.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes glistening, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything you’d been holding back for years hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain in his expression, but you didn’t know how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, until Glen took a tentative step forward. His hand hovered in the space between you for a moment, like he was waiting for permission. Then, with a careful slowness, he closed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

The warmth of his embrace was immediate, familiar, and for a moment, it felt like you could let yourself fall apart. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand resting against the back of your head as he tilted his chin down to press a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, you buried your face against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soaking up your tears. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands clutching at the back of his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

His grip tightened, just enough to make you feel safe, but not enough to smother. You could hear his heart beating against your ear, steady and strong, and for a fleeting second, you wondered if you’d ever hear it this close again.

You clung to him, your fingers curling into the material of his shirt as if holding on could somehow freeze time. The thought that this might be the last time you’d feel his arms around you made your throat tighten, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

He leaned down closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he murmured, “I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head weakly, your voice muffled against his chest as you choked out, “I didn’t either.”

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. His eyes searched yours, wide and desperate, his voice breaking as he finally spoke.

“Please,” he said, the single word trembling with emotion. “Just... give me one more chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you in place.

“I know I’ve said this before,” he continued, his voice low but urgent, “but this time it’s different. I swear to you, it’s different.”

You wanted to believe him—God, you wanted to—but doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of your mind. He must have seen it on your face because he rushed to keep speaking, the words tumbling out almost faster than he could say them.

“I’ve been thinking—really thinking—about how I’ve let you down. About how I’ve let us down. And you’re right. I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to make everything perfect, that I didn’t see how much I was losing in the process. But I’m done, okay? I’m done putting my career ahead of you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. “What are you saying?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded like he’d already made the decision. “After this project wraps, I’m taking a break. A real one this time. No more back-to-back shoots, no more press tours that take me halfway across the world. I’ll cut back—one, maybe two projects a year, tops. I don’t care if it hurts my career. I just want to stop hurting you.”

His words were raw, unpolished, but they hit you like a punch to the chest. For the first time in years, it felt like he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. There was thought behind his words, real intention.

He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on, his voice softer now. “I’ll do whatever. Whatever you need, whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be the man you fell in love with again.”

You stared at him, your tears blurring his face as his words echoed in your mind. You could feel the sincerity in every syllable, see it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as his hands slid down to take yours in his. “Just give me one more chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us.”

His words wrapped around your heart, tugging you in two directions. The part of you that had been hurt over and over again wanted to stay guarded, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place. But another part—the part that still loved him, that still saw glimpses of the man you’d fallen for—wanted to believe him.

This time, it felt real. It felt different. And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine that maybe, just maybe, it could be.

You took a deep, steadying breath. You took a step back, your gaze dropping to where Glen’s hands now held yours. His grip was firm but not forceful, a silent plea for you to trust him just one more time. You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“I’ll stay,” you said, the words trembling on your lips. Glen’s breath hitched, and you could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. “Just for the rest of the weekend. When we get back home... we’ll figure out what happens next.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost heartbreaking. His shoulders sagged, the tension visibly draining from his body as he nodded quickly. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s all I need right now. Just... thank you.”

You gave a small nod, unable to say anything more as you turned and made your way back to the balcony. The cool ocean breeze kissed your cheeks as you leaned over the railing, staring out at the endless expanse of water. The waves crashed softly against the shore, their rhythmic sound both soothing and haunting.

A moment later, you felt Glen step behind you. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the two of you stared out at the water in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of before—the heavy, suffocating kind that carried unspoken resentment. This was different. It was quiet, yes, but there was a sense of fragile peace in it. Like the storm that had been raging between you for so long had finally calmed, even if only for a moment.

“I love you,” Glen whispered, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the waves. But you did, and the words sent a fresh wave of emotion coursing through you.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into him as your hands moved to rest on top of his where they were wrapped around your waist. “I know,” you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go of the hurt, if only for a little while. You let yourself feel the weight of his arms around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the quiet sincerity in his voice.

As you stood there together, you thought back to that moment earlier in the day—standing alone, feeling the crushing weight of loneliness as you stared out at the beauty of this place. A mountain with a view, and yet, it had felt so empty.

But now, with Glen’s arms around you, it felt different. The view was still the same, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, the horizon painted in hues of gold and pink as the sun began its descent. But now, you weren’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to be.

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crossfandomskylines · 8 days ago

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Thank you so much!!!