nixalba

[nixalba]

just another girl on the subway | KA12

featuring: kimi antonelli x reader in which: he chose his dream over you once- and he's regretted it ever since. includes: angst, right person wrong time, unresolved conflict, open ending. english is not my first language! wc: 1.9k. notes: happy f1 summer break! apologies for the inactivity, school has started again for me and i've been focusing more on it; that, and my breakup has been eating me alive, so i wrote this self-indulgent piece to try and vent my emotions out because i love writing and its my coping mechanism teehee. title is from subway - chappell roan (we finally got it released im so happy), enjoy! my masterlist

HE DOESN'T SEE you immediately. He’s too busy talking to his friend about the next race to notice your familiar silhouette pass by him— and when he does, you’re already halfway out the door.

Kimi had the choice. He could have chosen to watch you walk away again; watch as two entire years of silent yearning culminate into an anticlimactic ending where he just sees you go and never return. He could have quietly sent you off in his mind without a word and continue on with his night, maybe actually pay attention to what his friend was talking about.

But he didn’t. He chose his dreams over you once, and your absence was a brutal price to pay. He doesn’t want to make that choice again. Two years ago, he made the difficult decision to prioritize his dream of racing over you, and he’s never forgiven himself; the memory of you and what could have been has haunted him in all of his waking moments. Each victory was sweet, but he knew that deep down that it would be sweeter with you watching.

And so, when you’re fully out the door, Kimi doesn’t even hesitate. He doesn’t need lightning-fast reflexes to make this choice, not when he’s been agonizing about it for so long.

He mutters something under his breath — towards his friend, although it probably wasn’t obvious since he was in such a rush — before rushing out of the restaurant.

It was practically like instinct, the way he spotted you in the crowded streets immediately. His eyes were meant to always find you in every place he was in, constantly yearning for that familiar face. You were the light he was constantly running towards, and now that you’re back, he wasn’t going to let you go again.

As Kimi pushed past several walking bodies, he felt the weight of the past begin to press down on him. Memories of bygone moments that were all stolen away by time resurfaced in his mind like twisted reckoning; arguments about the future, how you felt unsure and out of place with him as he pursued his dream— and how he failed to reassure you. The picture of your face is still clear in his mind: there was such clear uncertainty creeping into your eyes that day, and you were trying so hard to fight it back because you trusted him— but he broke that, along with the future you were building together. He threw it all out of the window back then, and he’s been trying to collect its broken pieces ever since.

He chased you all throughout the city— through the streets the both of you would sneak into to escape meetups, sidewalks he could swear you knew by heart, alleys where you shared more secrets to him than in any other place. Somewhere in between crossing the third avenue and squinting past the thick crowd to spot you, Kimi was hit with a daunting revelation: this entire place, the asphalt these cars were rolling on, the smooth concrete of the pavement he was standing on— they were all proof of his story with you.

Despite the time that passed, the metropolis in which you built your love story remained standing, resilient and unmoving amidst the all-consuming tide of change. It continued to tell the story of you and him, even after you both left the pages behind. You closed the book because Kimi chose to write a new tale— now that you’re back, he’s not letting the pen go.

This odd, one-sided chase soon met its culmination in the bustling underground of the subway. It was almost 5:00 PM; rush hour for most workers and students, which meant that terminals would be overloaded soon as people from all walks of life begin to flood the trains. The city was going to move on again in its usual routine, but Kimi didn’t want it to yet— he needs to get you back first.

When Kimi finally caught up to you, he was too busy catching his breath to notice that you weren’t even waiting for a train— you were just… standing there, near the benches, stuck in the boundary between where one would wait for the cars and people who’d wait in the sidelines. There was a look in your eyes, something that was familiar to Kimi all those years ago but was eroded by his time apart from you.

You looked… sad. Lost, even, which was odd because you knew this entire city like the back of your hand. There was an emotion in your eyes that Kimi had seen only once in your time together before— it was the same look you had on your face when he broke your heart.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistake again. He knows he can’t turn back time and go back to the moment when he took your future together with him and shattered it. But if that truly marked the end of your story together, then why are you here standing in front of him again? Was this just some cruel trick from the heavens to remind him of what he lost, or is this fate bringing you both back together?

Kimi doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s haunted himself with enough thoughts about how he could’ve done things differently to learn that no amount of reflection could bring back what was once there. What’s important to him now is the fact that even after everything, you’re somehow back and a mere arm’s length away from him— and he wasn’t going to lose you to some pipe dream or shot at the future anymore.

You don’t even look up when he approaches. To you, it could have been anyone; some random stranger that got too close by chance, or another lost soul that was trying to find its way back home. It’s only when he speaks that you look up— and when you do, you’re suddenly looking at your past and the future you thought you left behind.

“I don’t want to ask anything from you,” Kimi began. He’s suddenly made aware of how the station became increasingly more crowded with each word he spoke— as if the flood of people were a way of counting down on the time he had left. “I just want you to know that I missed you— I miss you. Even now.”

You furrowed your brows. Your silence was heartbreakingly deafening, but he didn’t care. “I never stopped thinking about you. Every time I won, it was nice, yeah, but I always thought about how much better it would be if you were there celebrating with me.” He thought about all the times he was on the top step of the podium, raising the trophy high with a proud smile on his face. It was always a fleeting yet fulfilling moment for Kimi— but deep down, he knew that if you were there somewhere in the crowd cheering for him, it wouldn’t be as momentary as it was.

“I shouldn’t have had to make that dumb choice all those years ago,” he said. “I didn’t need to pick between you or my dreams. It was always going to be both— because you were my dream, too.”

His next words aren’t practiced. It didn’t have to be. “You always have been. And you still are.”

From the corner of your eye, you see the conductor raise the megaphone to his mouth; he mutters something about a train approaching. Kimi hears it too, but he doesn’t care.

“I don’t know why you were here today,” he said, and you blinked back tears. Something about how he knew you were here for a reason made your chest ache, because it felt like he was waiting for you. And it didn’t matter why— just the fact that he cared. After all these years, he still did. “Hell, for all I know, this is probably the last time I’ll ever see you again for the next two years—”

“Kimi,”

“And honestly? That’s okay, because I’ve accepted the fact that I fucked up back then and I get it if you don’t want to talk to me ever again but at least give me the chance to—”

“Kimi.”

He looked at you. All this time he spent chasing you across the city, he only ever looked at your hair, your nose, your mouth— never your eyes. He only saw the sadness in them from afar and never up close, because he knew that he didn’t have the courage to face you fully.

You opened your mouth to speak, but only a few words come out. “I get it. I do,” you said, smiling. “I’m glad you came. I saw you at the restaurant, actually,” you recalled how you spotted him with his friend earlier. “I wanted to tap you then.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “I didn’t, and I guess that’s why we’re here.”

Kimi sighed. “You almost did.”

“Almost,” you nodded, “but I didn’t.”

And that was the thing. It’s always almost, almost, almost. You almost went up to him then, he almost let you go again. He almost watched you leave silently; you almost left without seeing him again. You and Kimi were always caught up in this state of limbo where it’s either now or never— but since you both can’t choose, you opt to just… stay. These two years weren’t one-sided at all— you were there, too, hoping and wishing the exact same. Just on the other side, where he couldn’t see you.

Somehow, even after so many promises, you both never find a compromise. At the end of the day, even after fleeting moments of seeing one another in the same city again to rushed conversations in the middle of a crowded subway, nothing can ever amount to either of you saying yes to one another. Because despite everything— the truth was never going to change. Kimi made his choice then, and in turn, you paid the price. Even if there was a chance to continue what you both believed was unfinished, would you want to? Does he want to?

Kimi wants to. He knows that; he sees his choice in the past as a grave mistake— and despite his inability to fix it, he wants to redeem himself, at the very least. That’s why he was here.

But did you want to? In your heart, you did; but there was something that was holding you back. Was it the uncertainty of the future again? Or something new entirely?

Whatever it was, it kept you from crossing that boundary you’ve been stuck in. It held you back from taking Kimi’s outstretched hand, and even if it broke your heart to reject it, you knew you had to.

There was always going to be something. It was always going to be just almost. You were near him, just close enough to be with him in the heart of this bustling city— but far enough to be unable to live the kind of future you both wanted for yourselves.

You were almost there. He was waiting for you, always was— you just needed to meet him halfway.

Would you be able to?

[nixalba]

to you, from the stage (or maybe the booth) | KA12

featuring: stage manager!kimi antonelli x rookie actor!reader in which: you're given a big role in an even bigger production as a rookie, and the burden is heavier than you could ever imagine. includes: bullet writing, non-f1 au/self-indulgent, fluff, angst if you squint, reader is kind of insecure but its okay bc kimi's there. english is not my first language! wc: 1.2k notes: i've been suffering a HUGE writer's block (honestly i think it's just me and my sudden interest in the mcu; it has devoured me (i love loki so much)). so please have this very scuffed, self-indulgent fic because i miss my theater days and i wish i had a cute budding romance between my stage manager too. enjoy! masterlist | inbox

THE FIRST TIME your director pulls you aside and tells you about the role you’re getting, you almost run out of the room in a panic. You? Of all people? Get a lead role in a big production? Nonsense. You were only in your second year of acting— who in their right mind would be crazy enough to entrust such a big responsibility on a rookie?

Your director assures you and tells you that you’ll be fine; your fellow cast members were veterans, and they were more than happy to support you every step of the way. But that unfortunately just added to the pressure you felt: what do you mean you were surrounded by veterans, and you were one of the only rookies??

Table reading day arrives, and when you first arrive, you’ve got jelly knees before you’ve even sat down. When the stage manager comes in, panic surges through you like a wave— suddenly your palms are clammy, sweat is dripping down your face, and your bum is unnaturally itchy.

Kimi introduces himself as the head stage manager for your play: meaning he’d be handling all things production. He congratulated everyone for making it to the table reading, emphasizing on how each member was well-deserving of the role given to them.

You couldn’t help but think this was some kind of indirect comment to you— like him saying “Hey, you’ll do great. You deserve this,” or something.

The two of you hit it off quite well: come first day of rehearsals, he’s already listed down all of your blockings and notes the director gave you. You found yourself gravitating towards him in between breaks, comparing notes to one another and asking if your performance during certain scenes were okay. Each time you ask, he always smiles, nods, and says “You did great.”

And then it happens. A canon event of some sort for every actor in every play they do— they mess up. It’s fine, it’s inevitable; everyone goes through it. That’s true. But every time you mess up, you don’t forgive yourself. It’s a toxic trait; you carry all your mistakes on your back, unaware of the burden you’re giving yourself.

So, when you mess up a little too many times for your liking during one scene, you finally break. After chewing up your lines for the second time, you asked your director if he could move onto another scene for now. Practice someone else’s blocking while you sit out for a few minutes to catch your breath. You didn’t want to ask for a break— it was unprofessional to just stop everything for your sake, and you hated taking up any more space in this production you already felt so alienated in.

You thought you’d be alone. In the middle of you sipping water, the door to the practice room creaks open, and Kimi emerges. You’re confused. He was the head stage manager— he couldn’t just leave like that. When you ask him, he shook his head. “I got George to take over for a bit. I needed to see you.”

Need. Something about his words tugged at your heart. He made the conscious choice of excusing himself mid-rehearsal to look for you— for what reason, you didn’t know.

The two of you don’t say anything for a while. There’s silence— it’s peaceful, grounding. The complete opposite from the kind of silence you’re used to in the middle of a scene; that one is composed, calculated, and anticipating. During practice, the room is silent because people are watching. It’s critical, observant— and with it, comes pressure.

But this kind of quiet was different. With Kimi, it was calming. You knew he wasn’t watching you with the kind of perception he has when looking at a scene. He isn’t looking at you while thinking of what could be done better with your blocking or delivery. In this moment, you’re just… you.

“You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, you know.” he said. “Everyone makes a few mistakes. Yours was barely noticeable— a few hiccups don’t make you any less of the actor that you are.”

His words stripped you down to your most vulnerable core— it was true. You were so caught up in so much pressure and expectations— all of which came from you— that you forgot to see your strengths. You were too critical. Too uptight.

Kimi told you that you deserved your role just as much as everyone else. Just because you were a rookie didn’t mean you were bad. Everyone has their first big role— and sure, they were definitely big boots to fill— but what matters is that they still did it.

He doesn’t say anything more. You just nod away, blinking back tears and swallowing the lump in your throat. Kimi doesn’t ask for an answer or a reaction— your presence was enough. He was enough for you, too. He grounded you.

When you both return to the practice room, the eyes aren’t as heavy anymore. The weight of your own expectations was lifted from your shoulders, taken away by Kimi’s words.

You still made mistakes after that— it was unavoidable. But this time, they didn’t haunt you anymore. Forgetting dialogue or a cue didn’t feel as scalding anymore; you’d just look over to the center table, where Kimi’s already watching, ready to throw you a line.

Like any other time, show day was filled with anxiety and nervousness. Backstage, it was chaos: costume managers crossing dressing rooms like they were slipping through different universes, heaps of clothes and hangers bundled up in their hands as they rattle off actors’ names. Kimi and the other stage managers were already in the tech booth, making technical adjustments for the stage and the show. You barely saw him all day— and it wasn’t doing anything good for your mental.

It was stupid, really, having so much of your pre-show psyche depend on your stage manager. You kept telling yourself that you didn’t need his words reassurance or a one-liner that could singlehandedly calm the erratic beating of your heart. You were an actor— the stage was your home; the limelight was your playground. This was your job— what were you being so nervous about?

You were (shakily) doing your makeup in the second dressing room when one of the stagehands knock on the door. They don’t say much— just gives you a small smile, and a mysterious small card.

You flip it over. You don’t recognize the handwriting, but you know who it’s from. It reads, “Good luck today. Don’t look up this time.”

And when the show begins, you don’t. Because you knew that Kimi was always there; always listening, always watching. It was his job, and what his heart wanted to do.

By curtain call, you could swear you saw his smile through the audience— beyond it, somewhere in the technical booth, you knew he was clapping for you. And he was.

[nixalba]

someday, somewhere, somehow | KA12

featuring: spiderman!kimi antonelli x reader in which: kimi makes a promise to you moments before your lives are completely changed. wc: 0.8k notes: this is my rewrite of the iconic peter and mj goodbye scene from spiderman: no way home because i watched it today and i absolutely bawled. anyway, spiderman!kimi has been on my mind since forever and what better way to give it justice than by writing this awful thing, am i right. anyway, enjoy (crying rn) masterlist | inbox

KIMI'S TOUCH IS as light as a feather. He brushes the tears away from your wounded cheek, ever so gently.

“Please,” you whispered. “There has to be another way.”

He shook his head. He smiles at you, but it doesn’t reach his ears. You’ve seen this kind of smile before— the one he’d give you when he knew something was wrong or if he was uncertain. The kind he’d show to tell you that even if he wasn’t sure yet, he was going to figure it out.

He takes your trembling hands in his. “I’ll come find you as soon as I can.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

A moment passes. It’s short, barely a second— but it’s real. Like everything you’d been through, it was real. It wasn’t just a memory. It was your reality. And that wasn’t going to change, no matter how far apart you were.

You press your forehead against his. “I love you.”

“I-”

“Don’t,” you said, as you caress his cheek. “Say it to me when you find me again.”

Kimi doesn’t answer. He only sighs, leaning into your touch, savoring it one more time.

Since the beginning, you both knew that this— all of this, everything— was bigger than you both combined. You were just kids thrown into a world of rage and war, and you deserved to be worrying about college and deadlines, not the fate of the world.

This could have easily been just Kimi’s reality from the moment the spider bit him. He could have chosen to take on this burden alone, but you made the choice to shoulder it with him. To face this new world together and make it out alive. This was just another one of those difficult moments where it felt like there was no hope left.

But you and him both knew that there was always going to be hope. There was always going to be a light waiting at the end, and no matter how far away it may seem, it will come. You’ll reach it, together.

The wind howls in your ear. From afar, you see a familiar silhouette casting a spell in the sky. Your heart sinks as you look at Kimi. “I think you have to go.”

He doesn’t say anything more. When he kisses you, you don’t cry. You just close your eyes and melt into it, and for a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Peaceful.

And then he’s gone. Swinging into the sunset, for what could possibly be the last time, while you still remember him.

“Hi, my name is…”

All of the practiced words die in Kimi’s throat when he sees you. He almost fell to his knees trying to open the diner door only seconds ago— not because he was weak, but because he was scared. He was terrified of facing you again, not as your boyfriend, but as a stranger.

Your voice is even more beautiful to hear than he remembered. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he stammered. “Uh, can I get a cup of coffee?”

You blinked at him, already halfway across the counter. “Got it. Um, you were saying your name…?”

His heart skips. “Kimi. My name is Kimi.”

“A cup of coffee for Kimi, then.”

He doesn’t even know what to say. He just stays frozen in his place, watching you from afar. Even if you were finally just at an arm’s length, it felt like an entire universe was setting you two apart. You were alive, safe, happy, everything Kimi had ever wanted for you.

You were as beautiful as the day he lost you.

You slide the plastic cup towards him. “Here’s your coffee, Kimi.”

His name feels foreign on your tongue. Like it was the first time you were ever saying it. He remembers all the times you screamed his name in the past— out of happiness, sadness, fear, frustration— he almost wonders if you remember, too.

He knows you don’t. But still, he hopes. He waits.

“Thanks,” he said. He turns on his heel a little too quickly, almost too harshly— and nearly bumps into the glass door. You furrowed your brows. “I’ll see you around.”

You don’t even get to answer. He looks at you one more time before he’s out the door, blending into the crowd, gone as soon as he came.

Kimi didn’t care if you didn’t remember. That was the plan. It was meant to happen. What mattered was that you were safe. You were happy, living the life you had always dreamed about— and even if he used to be in that, he’s happy that you’re still able to see it through.

He hasn’t said it back yet. He’s found you, but he can’t say it. Not now. But he’ll be able to soon enough.

[nixalba]

❗ COMMISIONS FOR DONATIONS.

the southwest monsoon has affected over 420,000 people in my country. with a rising death toll and the possibility of further weather disturbances, there is an urgent call for aid/assistance. IF YOU ARE ABLE TO SEND ME PROOF THAT YOU DONATED TO ANY OF THE BELOW CHANNELS, I WILL WRITE FOR YOU.

i write mostly female!reader, with the drivers i write for indicated in my masterlist. however, for this, i'm willing to try writing for any driver as long as the prompt follows my request guidelines. all i ask is that you 1) screenshot your proof of donation (no amount is too small), and 2) send me an ask/chat me with your proof + your prompt. in return, i will write you a fic of min. 3k words (or an smau, if that's something you prefer).

the below channels have been chosen for their credibility. thank you, everybody, and stay safe!

[nixalba]

nixalba's masterlist

— WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

🪴: antonelli, piastri, leclerc, bearman.

other drivers are okay to request, just be specific!

SELECTION —

LEGEND | 🐚 writer's pick! | 💭 blurb/drabble

AKA12 | kimi antonelli.

OP81 | oscar piastri.

you owe me a debt, you stole him from me · actor!reader, exes au, angst. 0.9k

CL16 | charles leclerc.

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OB87 | ollie bearman.

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[nixalba]

kimi antonelli masterlist!

– back to main masterlist

🐚 writer's pick! | 💭 blurb/drabble

— one-shots!

a wine-stained dress i can't wear anymore 🐚 · exes!au, angst. 1.8k.

my beating heart screams for you · college! au, slow burn. 2.7k.

remember the letters · angst. 0.5k.

the crown that weighs heavy 🐚 · prince!kimi x mercenary!reader, enemies to lovers. 2.6k.

i don't know how it began · prmanager!reader, fluff. 5.9k.

someday, somewhere, somehow · spiderman!kimi x reader, angst. 0.8k.

to you, from the stage (or the booth) · stage manager!kimi x rookie actor!reader, fluff. 1.2k.

just another girl on the subway · right person, wrong time. 1.9k.

— blurbs!

high-school crush 💭

meetcute moment 🐚💭

[nixalba]

❝ This is falling for you, and you are worlds away. ❞

╰┈➤ EUNOIA / ELARA. eighteen. she. kimi antonelli enthusiast, charles leclerc defender forever ♡ !

masterlist | inbox requests: open!

more info under the cut!

✦ FANDOMS : formula 1, seventeen (kpop), final fantasy: 7 (remake/rebirth), mcu

✦ navigation : #noia talks !! ✉ ୨୧ — yaps #noia verse !! ✉ ୨୧ — writing #noia radio !! ✉ ୨୧ — answered asks

[nixalba]

high school crush | KA12 blurb

notes: "i think he knows" by taylor swift started playing on shuffle while i was writing something else and this thought GRIPPED me by my balls and i had to drop everything to put my messy thoughts on paper. so, have this insanely short blurb that i thought of in like 30 minutes because i have adhd and unpredictability runs in my veins. also, if it wasn't obvious by now: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD! im so sorry. regardless, enjoy teehee

IT WAS PRACTICALLY second nature for you by now: waiting for him at the start of every day because he's notoriously known for always being late, him showing up less than five minutes before the bell rings, and the both of you barely managing to get to class on time.

whenever he asks why you're always waiting for him by the door whether it's 8:45 or 8:55 or even 8:59 and you guys have to make a run for the classroom, you just smile and evade the question. maybe give some vague answer like, "you're lucky to have someone looking out for your ass." when in reality, you actually have a big, fat, stupid crush on him, and you don't know how to handle that big revelation. so, you just settle for bonding with him through stupid things like this so it wouldn't make yourself look obvious.

the way kimi finds out can't be any more textbook classic: he hears it from a little birdie (which just so happened to be a friend of a friend who didn't know that kimi didn't know), and when he does, he realizes how stupid he is for not seeing the signs and connecting the dots earlier on. the bigger plot twist? he had a crush on you, too. and all those times you were both racing against time in the morning? he giggled about those too; thinking about how you would always manage to wait for him no matter how late he was, it almost tempted him to actually do it on purpose just so he could have an excuse to see you in the morning every day (as if you guys weren't classmates already.)

[nixalba]

meetcute moment | KA12 blurb

─── MEETCUTE BLURB! in which you, a pastry fiend, decides to indulge your sweet desires and buy yourself a few baked treats. however, things quickly go south when you run—literally—into a problem in the form of a tall, curly headed mop. WC: 0.6k NOTES: new layout, who dis?! anyway— this is actually going to be a part of a longer kimi fic that i've been working on, but i thought that it was too cute of a moment to leave in the drafts as i continue writing the rest of the story. so, have this very short (but hopefully very adorable) blurb of a meetcute moment with kimi. if you think about it, this serves as a sneak peek, as well ;). anyway, enjoy!

YOU'VE BECOME A constant visitor of this bakery nearby. It makes some pretty good breakfast buns, and it reminds you of a similar joint you and your grandmother used to frequent back home. It's quite the ancient establishment, with an interior design that is so obviously well beyond its years. Somehow, its old aesthetic adds to its charm.

After several minutes of being torn between this beautifully baked apple pie or another ten pieces of your old reliable crinkles, you pay the kind old lady who usually mans the bakery the fee and begin walking outside. You've gathered quite the haul today: three full loaves, two separate bags full of breakfast and dinner buns, a few pieces of this new croissant that the old lady recommended to you, and then some. It amassed a total of three, moderately heavy, slightly unstable, shaky paper bags that you had to carry all the way back home. But the weight of them all was nothing compared to the bliss of sweet delight you were going to indulge in once you got home.

You've almost lost yourself in the haze of your baked delusions when you get rudely shoved back into reality when, as if the universe had told you to snap out of your stupid trance, you bump into someone. The collision sends you falling back and your precious sweet delights flying out of their paper confinements; You could only watch in horror as your three loaved musketeers defied the laws of gravity for a split second, before flopping onto the concrete.

You don't even know what to say. You're panicking— you think of the crinkles, and your heart sinks— until you realize, it wasn't completely your fault.

You dust yourself down, prepare yourself to start screaming at whatever blind man decided to bump into you and ruin your tower of pastries—

“Scusa,” you heard a voice say, and you looked up.

A man with curly hair and really, really pretty eyes is staring down at you with so much pity, it was almost like you were some beggar and he was the reigning king of the road giving you a few scraps.

You weren't a native, so you didn't understand the language of the locals— but according to some books on Italian language that you read on the airport a week ago, scusa was an informal way of apologizing and saying sorry.

You didn't really know what to say— not because you didn't want to, but because you couldn't. Your accent would give you away, but given as you were pretty much rising to your feet whilst staring at this Italian stranger with a look as if he'd grown two extra heads, you figured that your cover was blown long ago.

You nodded stiffly at him, as you began collecting your fallen pastries from the ground.

The curly headed mop is persistent, though. He does what a socially awkward introvert navigating a foreign country's worst fear is: helping you.

He leaned down, picked up the farther pieces of bread and crinkles and semi-flattened croissants, rose back up, and handed them to you. You take them without a word. You're speechless. If you even breathe an inch too close to his Italian face, God knows what might happen.

Just when you're about to begin saying "thanks" in English because you've just about given up trying to explain you're a foreigner, Mister Mop (you've settled on calling him that) commits yet another unthinkable act: speaking directly to you.

Except this time, it's in English— a language you understand.

“You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?” he asked.

You blinked a few times, like your eyes were trying to get used to the blur of this kind Italian stranger who has been nothing but kind to you these past five minutes.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied. Your pastries are safely back in your arms, and surprisingly, they’re organized in a neater order than before. Sweet.

[nixalba]

the feminine urge to write an angry argument fic but idk to write about

[nixalba]

next few fics i'll be putting out may or may not look completely different with eo because im going through a layout crisis rn.. #sos

[nixalba]

✶ a wine-stained dress i can't wear anymore | KA12

starring: exes!au kimi antonelli x reader in which: it's been years since you had broken up. are the feelings still there, or is there really no more chance at redemption? wc: 1.8k includes: heavy angst, exes, pre-established relationship, childhood friends to teenage lovers to ???, set in the future (e.g 2028 season where kimi is WDC LEADER! #manifesting). english is not my first language! warnings: implied age gap relationship (not between kimi and reader) notes: oh well. this is definitely angst heavy. it isn't the type to make you cry, but if you're looking for a happy ending... this is probably NOT the fic for you i'm sorry. in other news, i'm trying out a new writing layout (spot the difference? jk). finally, title is from clean by taylor swift! (which i played on repeat while writing). anyway, that's enough yapping from me, enjoy :)

YOU COULD SEE it in his eyes. The way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, an air of fake confidence wrapped around him like a shield. It was almost as if he was scared to face you. You wonder why.

Kimi doesn’t even look at you when he speaks, a tight smile on his face. “So, how have you been doing?”

“Fine,” you replied, returning the same grin, but yours reached your ears. To be more convincing, you thought. Make him think that you’ve been doing better than him.

But the truth was obvious. You both thought that it was outside, but it was trapped inside the walls with you. unspoken words, resentment that quietly festered in your veins that never got a chance at redemption— they were all gathered here, in every corner of the room. Growing, just as they did all those years ago, waiting for when either of you finally break and address what needed to be resolved— and what can’t.

The cup of tea in front of you, now gone cold, suddenly looks so interesting. You stare at it as if it held all the answers you were searching for. But in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Kimi wasn’t a cold person. You of all people would know. He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush about how he felt towards the people he cared about. He’d show it in his words, and most especially his actions. You could tell from a mile away if he was worried, and it was as if the universe was always at his beck and call when he knew something was wrong. You could always feel it, his feelings towards you. And you felt it now, even as you try and block him out of your vision, you could still sense him.

He was looking at you quietly, wordlessly. He was completely still. But you could tell that he didn’t have that paranoid, protective aura from before. He’d let his walls down, just like he did all those years ago, and he was just observing you now. His gaze was piercing, almost like he wasn’t just staring at you— but at your heart, your feelings, your thoughts.

It was a game of patience. Both of you, waiting for someone to touch the unmoving ball, to try and hit it home. But neither of you moved. None rose to the occasion. Kimi was silent, and you were stone-cold. Not even time could pressure the both of you.

Because you and him knew, deep down, that it had already tried before.

Your thought is the first straw to break the camel’s back. You cave under your own spell, and your jaw ticks.

Your words are calculated and precise. “What have you been up to lately?”

Kimi doesn’t miss a beat. You don’t know if it’s because of pure instinct— maybe even a force of habit— or he was just waiting for you to speak. Still, he’s lightning quick with his response.

“Oh, you know. The usual—“

“Which is?”

He falters at the sudden question, and your chest swells— out of pride, out of knowing that you had knocked him to his back foot. But it wasn’t over.

“I don’t know if you heard,” he said, “but I’m the championship leader now. Says I’ve got a shot at winning it, even.”

Your breath hitched. Your heart skips a beat— not from adoration, or love— but at revelation. It was subtle, something small out of the many unspoken feelings that haunted the room. But it was just as important. It weighed just as much value as everything else.

Kimi had reached one of his dreams. The same one that he promised to you.

The memory is like an unpleasant thought now. Unwanted, irrelevant, unnecessary— but it still forms itself in your mind, like puzzle pieces sticking together with magnets.

It started off as a joke. You and him were laughing about the future and how unclear it was, even though deep down, the both of you knew that you were scared. Two kids smiling and making light of the uncertainty that they’d soon face. It wasn’t as intimidating back then as it was now— because at the time, you had each other. Two hearts intertwined, singing songs of bravery and determination. You thought that your love colored any bleak, jaded part of the future.

That’s when Kimi had said it. His voice was light, still following the thread of jabs and laughter minutes ago— but he was stern. He said it as he looked you in the eye, and for the first time, you saw an emotion in them that you had never seen before: resolve.

“One day, I’m going to win the championship, and you’ll be there to see it. You’ll get to hold the trophy when we win, too.” He said to you.

You will the thought away before it could plague you any further. At the same time, you leaned back in your chair, looking out at the window. You wanted to be further away from him.

“Wow,” you said. “That big, huh? Congrats.”

Kimi isn’t smiling anymore. “Thanks.”

You don’t want to dwell on the emotion you were feeling. It didn’t carry the weight of regret, but it wasn’t sickening like rage or resentment, either. It was calm. Unnaturally still. A haunting chill that felt like an unforgiving wind.

Oddly enough, it was grounding. Its presence in your mind calmed your thoughts, while threatening your composure all the same. You clung onto it regardless.

“And what about you?” he asked. He threw the question right back at you, and it felt as if he had hurled the burning sun to your direction to try and burn you. But it wasn’t scalding. There was no heat, and you didn’t melt from the fire. You just gave him a small smile.

“I’ve been around,” you said. It was a vague answer, something ambiguous enough that would pique his curiosity and make him prod you for more.

You’re surprised when he takes the bait. “Really? Any specifics?”

“I’ve recently gotten engaged, actually.”

It rolls off your tongue too easily. Your hand practically crawls onto the table, and the gem had stolen all the light and reflected it on itself. The weight of your words were heavy. Crushing, even— and surprisingly, you weren’t above them. The reality was looming down on you, too.

The silence is long. It stretches across you from the table and out into the world beyond, as if what you just said had plunged the world into a deadly quiet. Kimi’s expression barely changed. He looked at you with an unreadable expression— his eyes weren’t cloudy, his jaw wasn’t clenched, and his body wasn’t tense at all. He was just.. him.

But was he? Or had you spent so much time away from each other that you had forgotten how to see through him and all his walls?

When Kimi finally moves, it’s barely noticeable. You wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t staring daggers at him the moment you announced your engagement minutes ago. He blinks his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Ah. Congratulations,” he said. His voice was robotic, and his words were calculated. Precise. As if he didn’t want to say anything more, in fear of crossing a boundary that he didn’t know was there.

“Thank you.” you said. The wedding band feels heavy on your finger now. Almost like it was never meant to be there. You shook your head.

“It wasn’t…” you began, your words finding themselves before you could control them. “It’s not what you think.”

“What?”

“My parents. They set me up with their friends’ son, told me it was a corporate decision. An investment or something, in the form of wedding bells. And maybe, in the future..”

Your voice cracks. “a few heirs, too.”

Kimi sees it immediately. The way you swallow the lump forming in your throat and how you cover your ring with your other hand. You were haunted by this reality too. Just like him— who didn’t want to admit it— you didn’t want this, either.

He wants to run to you. He wants to cross this void that you two built between each other and reach out, to try and ground you and console you and tell you that everything is going to be alright. But he couldn’t. And that broke his heart, because it’s a reminder of everything he couldn’t fight for— and how, until now, he couldn’t fight for you.

So, instead, he settles for words. He asks a question that he knows you were too scared to ask yourself.

“Do you want this?”

You shook your head, and for the first time since you entered this stifling room, you smiled. A genuine, sincere one, where it didn’t reach your ears and it wasn’t tight and suffocating. It was weak and small, a reflection of how you felt. “No.”

“Then leave.”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

Kimi didn’t answer. You were right— it was never, ever, that simple. There was always going to be hardship, obstacles, and challenges that stood in the way between the two of you.

You knew what he meant when he told you to leave. He wanted you to come back to him, to leave the life that’s been suffocating you for this long and to finally choose yourself.

But you couldn’t. You were cursed, subjected to suffer at the hands of someone else. And Kimi’s fate was intertwined with yours. Watching you at a distance, shackled by his own will; his patience and insistence on waiting for something that will never come.

You both don’t know how it ends— maybe it never did. But eventually, you stand up from your chair and make your way to the door. The room is still cold— not from the wind, but from all the unspoken things that you both thought were going to be said, but never had the chance. Not even here, not even today.

For a brief moment, you were both able to forget everything. Where you were, who you are— it didn’t matter here. Because in these four walls, you were the same girl all those years ago who fell in love with Kimi— and nothing else mattered.

But that was then, and this is now. When you turn the knob and begin walking away, you feel lighter. You weren’t trapped anymore— not in the same way you were. Now, you had someone watching you.

And you hope that one day, he’ll be able to free you, too.

[nixalba]

my beating heart screams for you | KA12

starring: college!au kimi antonelli x reader in which: it’s the night before graduation. the night before everyone will go their separate ways and lead different lives... but before Kimi does any of that, he needs to get one last thing off his chest: this little feeling that’s been haunting him for several years— and he hopes that when he tells you, it doesn’t torment you the same way it did to him. wc: 2.7k includes: slow burn, friends to ???, (kind of) cliffhanger, mutual pining but both of them didnt actually know it was mutual theyre kinda stupid, college friendships and relationships, other f1 drivers are mentioned. english is not my first language! warnings: none notes: another one from my drafts! ive been clearing them out lately, and this particular story is quite special to me. its original title was "ikot" (meaning spin) which was taken from a Filipino song with the same name. im a sucker for moonlit confessions, so this was my attempt at one. ending is kind of poor imo, but that's just me, so lmk what you think! as always, enjoy <3

After what seemed to be a year’s worth of drinking games and at least a hundred shots amongst you all, the party began to die down.

You and your friends decided to meet up for one last get-together before graduation tomorrow, where you’d all just reminisce about the past year or so while silently dreading the terrifying uncertainty of the future. It was a sweet idea, you thought, so of course you had to go.

You all talked about everything under the sun— your embarrassing moments on the first day where some of you may or may not have accidentally entered the wrong classroom (out of your irrational fear of opening the schedule and double-checking your room assignments), or that one time the entire block had been plunged into a state of silent war between one another because of a misunderstanding. you reminisced about everything eventful and uneventful that happened between all of you the past year, as if you were all looking back at every single second, minute, hour, day, and week spent with one another before closing the door on it forever.

Beneath the laughter and banter was a layer of bittersweet nostalgia— every single person at that table knew that this, too, would become another fragment of a bygone memory soon, and that none of you were safe from being whisked away by time. The truth hung over you all like an ultimatum, but none of you were brave enough to confront it— not yet. not now.

Eventually, you ran out of things to talk about. The seemingly endless chatter slowed to a stop, replaced with a comfortable silence that wrapped the table in a peaceful atmosphere. On one end of the table, Lando was already half-asleep, battling with his consciousness. Oscar, who was sat beside him, wasn’t any better. While he still (kind of) looked energized, he sat on his spot of the couch with a cup of water on one hand, with the other stirring mindless circles around the liquid like he was trying to conjure up some ritual on you all.

The girls had decided to go on a walk and get some actual “healthy” snacks for the table and excused themselves just a while ago. They asked you if you wanted to come along, but whether it was the sentimentality or the goodness of your heart, you declined and offered to look after the others instead.

This would come to be your mistake later on.

Playing bodyguard for a bunch of grown college students proved to be a boring pastime— they were all knocked out cold, and it’s not like this was some public bar with weirdos— you could leave them for just a little while. Besides, you wanted to go out and actually reflect about the future that awaits you, without the snarky remarks of your friends poking into any of your plans. These guys can handle themselves, unconscious or conscious.

And so, you quietly slip out of the conversation pit and make your way to the villa’s roof deck, where a mesmerizing view awaited you. It seemed the party had come to a stall at just the right time, because when you walk to the railings to get a better look, the city lights are even more captivating than you thought.

You and your friends obviously picked this villa to rent out because of its prime location— it was built atop a mountain range, just off the boundary that separated the city and the province. The landlord had informed you all about the pleasing vantage point it had over the city skyline, jokingly saying that the view took up half the price. You all agreed to go to the roof deck and take a look together— but things didn’t go quite as planned, seeing as almost your entire friend group had been knocked out cold from extensive liquor consumption.

The city lights twinkled from below you with a shine that could rival even the most valuable of jewels. From afar, every single streetlamp glimmered like a diamond, with the snaking roads serving as the chains that bound these gems together. The metropolis looked like a sea of shining stars; and for the first time, you felt so far away from it. Standing here, hands gripping the railings as you looked on to the world you and your friends had lived in for so long. But this time, if even for a fleeting moment, you weren’t part of it. Instead, you were completely detached from it— simply spectating from afar as you watch your city continue its routine without you.

It felt comforting, in a way— knowing that wherever your life would take you, your home would remain a constant amidst the impermanence of your life. You wish that people were the same; unchanging, immutable. But you knew better. The answer to your plea laid right here, in the form of an already fleeting memory with the most important figures in your life.

Your thoughts continued to circle in your mind, as emotions of sadness, happiness, and everything in between began to bleed into you. You were drowning in what many would call the graduation blues— filing through every memory in your head one by one, auditing every laugh, cry, and mundane conversation you shared with your friends. Those days where you’d wake up late (courtesy of your roommate not waking you up), turn up early (at the price of disturbing everyone else in your entire building), or barely make it in time, while you had George’s stupid silver jacket draped over you, blinding the entire classroom as soon as you enter.

You smile at the thought of him, and of everyone else— Lando, Oscar, Charles, Alex, Pierre, Yuki, Kimi—

And your heart stalls.

The thought of his curly hair and annoying laugh pulled at the strings of your pulse in a way you couldn’t explain.

Every day, you’d clock into campus and nine times out of ten, it would be Kimi who’d greet you first thing in the morning. He’d wave at you, give you a small smile, and then, with that same annoying voice, ask you: “So, how’d you wake up today? From an alarm or your annoying roommate?”

And every time, you’d reply, “Neither. Now get out of my face, mophead.”

Then he laughs. Let's out that maddening chuckle he always does, the same one that makes your heart flip and sink all at the same time. You never return the favor— and it’s like that’s exactly what he expects you to do. So, when you give him your usual glare, he returns your gaze with those piercing eyes that always look right through you; the kind that makes you feel completely seen but translucent at the same time, as if his stare was holding several years’ worth of unspoken words.

But that would be it. That simple act of eye contact would only last for barely a second, before he shoots you one last smile and turns right back around, as if nothing ever happened.

That’s how it always was with Kimi. You two were friends, of course— but both of you never admitted to that out loud. There was never a time where either of you had to speak up and call each other a friend. It was just a label that naturally stuck itself to the pair of you, like some instinctive decision the heavens made for you. Not that you were complaining.

At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself.

You don’t know if it was just you, but with Kimi, it always felt like the word “friend” couldn’t properly explain what the both of you had. It felt like an understatement of some sorts; like you needed a better word to describe all those lingering gazes, ghostly touches, and inexplicable moments the both of you always found each other in.

George and the others never said it aloud, but you know that they thought the same. In every spontaneous outing and meetup, everyone would gravitate to one another— no exclusions or feelings of being left out. But despite the unity in the group, you and Kimi always hung around one another. In a crowded subway, he’d always be an inch closer to you than he was with Alex, who’d be beside you both. In sleepovers, you’d be on the bed, while he’d be right beside you on the floor. At the end of a tiring day, they all know that your first call isn’t Sophia, your best friend of eight years, or Oscar, who you saw as a brother— it would be Kimi.

You didn’t know it then, probably still don’t now— but your life has always had pieces of Kimi, and only Kimi in it. Jokes that only you two understood. Knowing glances that only the two of you could decipher. That little moment between you at the beginning of every day had a hidden meaning in itself, and until now, several hours before you’re forced to say goodbye, you’re still struggling to understand what it means.

And that’s when it hits you. The second truth that hid itself behind the ultimatum that hung over you and your friends earlier— something that you’ve been trying to run away from in fear of what it would denote.

Your feelings for Kimi, and the true meaning behind them.

You liked him. You were in love with him, even. The days where you’d walk around campus with him watching the trees shed their leaves, that one day he helped you carry your things to the next building after he made fun of you and your workload, or when he’d just wait for you outside of the campus library you frequented during finals season. These were the memories you cherished the most in the past year— not because of their mundanity, but because you spent it all with him. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The realization gives you more dread than relief. Why did it have to be this late? Why did you only have to realize this now, hours before you had to say goodbye to the person who gave your life so much color? It made you sick, thinking about it— you couldn’t imagine a life without Kimi.

An all-too familiar voice cut through your thoughts before you could try to deny them all again.

“Still awake?”

Kimi takes his place beside you, resting an arm on the railing as he looks down at the city lights you were captivated by just minutes ago. He blinks at the majesty of it all, mouth slightly agape from wonder. “Woah, the landlord wasn’t kidding.”

Your voice is barely audible, and it betrays the blank expression on your voice. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

Kimi turns to you, as if the city lights were a bygone breeze from the wind. You feel his eyes on you instantly, and in your mind, you’re sent back to all those mornings where he’d look at you with that mysterious gaze. You swallow the lump in your throat as you try to hide your heart that’s showing itself on your sleeve, shifting ever so slightly and widening the gap between you and him.

He doesn’t falter. “Are you okay? You sound odd.”

You didn’t expect yourself to give in so easily, but you did. His harmless question was enough to break apart the last remnants of whatever wall you had built over yourself to try and protect your heart from this ruthless revelation, and hot tears begin streaming down your face.

You were crying, and your first instinct was to yearn for his comfort and his touch.

How comical, you thought.

Kimi’s expression is like night and day. He rushes to your side almost immediately, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong? I swear I didn’t make a weird joke this time, I promise.”

You manage to laugh at that. The corners of your eyes crinkle just a little bit for a tear to fall down your cheek, and as if it was instinct, Kimi reaches to wipe it off. His thumb grazes your skin, and the touch is electric. It sends a wave of emotions over you— happiness and sadness, how you knew deep down that you’d cherish this one, too— and the fact that it’s just as temporary as the rest.

You don’t know how long the both of you stay like this— sobbing in Kimi’s arms as he comforts you in silence, while your earlier realization continues to haunt you in the back of your mind. Eventually, you’re calm enough to speak again, and you already know exactly what to say.

“Kimi,” you began. He’s all ears- he always was, every time you talked to him. He’d listen with full attention, and nothing would break his focus when it came to you. This instance was no different.

“Do you think we’ll meet each other again in the future? After…” You make a gesture with your hand, describing the past year. “This,”

His answer isn’t immediate. His shoulders slump when he finally replies, like he’s admitting to something he’s been hiding for a while.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

Kimi smiled. “I don’t know. But I wish we didn’t have to ask questions like this.”

Your heart stutters. You thought the same. You wished that things were simpler, that you didn’t have to weigh out your choices and realize things too late.

“I’ve always liked you, you know.” He spoke. “I know I wasn’t the best at showing it, especially whenever I’d tease you about the most random thing… but I did. I— actually, no, scratch that— I’ve always loved you. Since the day I saw you at that damn freshie welcome event, where you wore those tacky jean shorts and you still had those comically large glasses that you swore helped your vision.”

“You were always there, no matter what. You had that kind of energy that I just… gravitated towards, I guess,” Kimi continued. You didn’t know if it was a trick of the light, but you could see the tips of his ears grow a shade of pink. “But we were freshies. Hell, we were in college. And from what I knew about you then, you didn’t play around about these kinds of stuff. So, I never told you how I felt. I thought to myself that you’d be better off not knowing what I felt through words— but through my actions, instead.”

And you did. His feelings were clear to you in every shared laugh,

“That’s why, like you, I was always there, too. I’d try to be the first person you’d see in the morning; I’d wait for you outside of the music library after class— fuck, I used to be devastated when you wouldn’t call me at the end of the day. Like I was your boyfriend that you had update.” He laughs, not at you, but at himself. The look in his eyes say it all; he thought he was stupid for feeling this way. For doing all of those things.

You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and your eyes began to well up with more tears than before. “Kimi, I…”

“I know,” He reached for your hand, his touch a reassurance to the uncertainty in front of you both. “I don’t want this to fade. Not now, not ever. Especially when we’re here, and we just discovered it.”

He was right. This was something special, the two of you— built upon moments and memories you shared together in the midst of the absolute whirlwinds that were your lives. Amidst the pressure, stress, adversity, and everything in between, the pair of you persevered through it all. The two of you knew, deep down, that if you were both willing to fight for it, then the future would be just another hurdle you’d conquer. Together.

[nixalba]

✰ remember the letters | KA12

starring: kimi antonelli x reader (blurb)in which: you see your past looking at you in the crowd. pushed on by regret, melancholy, or everything unsaid, you approach him. wc: 0.5k words includes: angst, exes, implied miscommunication, breakups. english is not my first language!warnings: none notes: no one cares but its my first day today!! and this is kind of a self-indulgent vent thing bc i was scared of running into my ex today, so i wrote about what it would be like. kinda. its really short and really bad (i think) so um. enjoy (?)

It’s almost cinematic, the way he spots you through the crowd. You lock eyes almost instantly as if you were always made to find each other. Even in the chaos of the students shuffling all around you, the cacophony of questions and confusion slowly eating the both of you whole— you navigated through it all and walked toward him.

He did, too. Like some rift had opened up in your distance, and it was leading him straight to you. Two completely different people, torn apart by their own choices, make the decision to find their way back to one another again.

You still remember the letters. All the nights you spent reading dried ink on paper, trying to understand the meaning and weight of the written words. It was pain in cursive, months of yearning just sitting in between your fingers.

Hey, This is my 32nd letter to you. It’s July 23 today, Tuesday. Your favorite bakery is pretty busy, and I don’t know why; I think they started selling those cookies that you liked again. If this was several months ago, I’d have offered to buy you some. But since it’s the present... I don’t think I have the right to do that anymore, do I? It’s been 11 months. You could practically say that it’s been an entire year at this point. But I still miss you. I still think about you, whenever I look at something, or pass by a place we used to go to... Even now, I still find parts of you in my room, if I dig deep enough. I don’t want to call them leftovers. To me, these lingering memories of you... they’re here for a reason. And I know that sounds stupid, because you’re probably never going to return— but even if that were the case, I think that these things are more than just pieces of you that you forgot to take back. You didn’t leave them here. You gave them to me, and made them a part of who I am. Just like how you gave color to my life— even if you left, these shades were never meant to be erased. I don’t want to sound like some poet— that’s your thing. All I’m trying to say is that I miss you. I really do. Milan isn’t the same as it used to be without you. Today was the first time I was able to visit your favorite bakery— that’s how I found out about the cookies. I’ve been avoiding it because I thought that maybe you were avoiding me, and that if I just didn’t show up for a while, you’d turn up eventually. But that clearly wasn’t the case. I’m running out of guesses on where you are, or what you’re doing. Whatever it is, I hope you’re okay. Kimi

You’re not sure when the crowd had eventually dispersed, and that you were actually looking up at him now.

His eyes held an expression you couldn’t quite describe with just one word; it was filled melancholy, happiness, and a kind of longing that you’ve never seen before. The past year changed him, you realized, and he was different.

In a lot of ways, he was the same. But the biggest difference was that he wasn’t yours anymore.

[nixalba]

masterlist soon. i think!

[nixalba]

☾ the crown that weighs heavy | KA12

starring: prince!kimi antonelli x mercenary!readerin which: you're a hired gun. a good one, at that. normally, you'd have no problem eliminating just about anybody; but your latest target proves to be more difficult than you expected. wc: 2.6k includes: enemies to lovers, no established relationship, might have a part 2 but im still not too sure, use of kimi's first name (andrea), kimi is loosely (i mean VERY LOOSELY) inspired by maven calore from the red queen series. english is not my first language!warnings: none notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute because i haven't really. cleaned them out. and partly bc im not really satisfied with the ending soo... but that might mean i'll make a part 2 soon (??) idk. let me know. also, this is pretty old (aka my writing is significantly worse) so i kinda hate it and you, dear reader, may or may not hate it as well- this is your warning.. haha.. anyway, enjoy!

The chill of the night sky sends a shiver down your spine. The entire city is quiet at this hour, asleep and resting for the coming day. But you’re wide awake. Your door doesn’t make a sound as you sneak out into the back alleys, leaving not even a speck of dust in your wake.

You landed a gig today. And it was big.

The requester was anonymous. They sent only a singular piece of paper with the details of your target, along with a sack of gold enough to feed an entire generation. You almost thought it was a scam when you first saw it— especially when you read who they were asking for.

Crown Prince Andrea. Kill him in the next month. I’ll send more gold tomorrow if it isn’t enough.

You didn’t know what was more absurd. The amount of money sitting right in front of you, or this request.

The crown prince was, well, a big deal— if his title didn’t suggest as much. He was the heir to the entire kingdom, a future king awaiting his birthright— which just so happened to be a month from now. You realize, then, what the request was implying: an elimination of the heir.

This wasn’t just any request. You’d be directly involving yourself in a case that plunge the kingdom into chaos.

The crown prince was the only eligible child to be in line for the throne His sister was too young, and there had been rumors circling about how the king didn’t want his daughter to rule even if she came to be of age. You weren’t one to indulge in palace drama, so it wasn’t like you cared about the inner politics about the kingdom. But this piece of paper and whoever was behind it was forcing you to.

You opened the brown sack carefully. Inside, piles and piles of gold coins twinkled back at you. It was an amount you had never seen in your life. To be able to amass this much would be impossible for someone like you in the lower class— but whoever this person was could easily bring it and deliver it to you as if it was nothing. You knew, then, that this person truly wanted the prince dead— and they had the money to make sure he is.

It wasn’t like you were some shoddy mercenary. Your name was popular among the market of hired hands, regarded as someone reliable and who can always get the job done. If clients wanted an elimination so quick that it almost looks like a disappearance, you were the one to call. It’s because of your quality of service that you tend to charge higher than the average price, which most of your clients happily pay for. But this person— whoever they were— was different. You felt it. It wasn’t just the price they were wavering— it was the target.

Who could be insane enough to target the prince? It’s not like he had committed some kind of secret felony that the entire kingdom wasn’t aware of.

But as you looked at the pile of gold coins and the piece of paper again, you realize that it doesn’t matter— not yet, at least. At the end of the day, you were just a third party in every story. A hired hand that helps for their own gain, who erases themselves from the narrative as soon as the job is done. It didn’t matter who or what it was— you were part of the shadows, and this was no different.

Which brings you here now, jumping across roofs across the night as you made a beeline for the royal palace. The moon cloaks you in darkness, with its light shining down on just the right places to give you vantage as you navigate through the sleeping village.

Soon enough, you arrived at the palace, hiding in the shadows as you climbed up into the balconies. Your client sent more details a few days after they sent the initial request— a map that showed the entire palace layout, inside and out, along with a detailed list of palace protocol that the prince had to follow. It audited his entire schedule— when he woke up, possible times of the day where he’d go out to see the public, his free time. You had never received this much information about a target all at once; the most you’d get would be a few pictures of their whereabouts in the past 12 hours, and maybe a few witness testimonies if you were lucky. But this was all on a different level. It made you wonder if whoever made the request had an insider in the palace— or if they were the insider themselves.

You chose to target the prince at night. According to the schedule, he should be free during this night and frequents the balcony during this hour. Your client mentioned that he doesn’t bring bodyguards with him after sundown— a peculiar choice— but an advantageous, nonetheless. The polished marble of the palace balcony is cold when you grab onto it, and you grunt as you launch yourselves upwards.

The evening air is cold against your face when you’re finally able to climb onto the balcony. You tuck yourself behind one of the marble walls, looking around your surroundings. The palace balcony was decorated with plants lining the railings, as polished pillars towered over the entire area. It cast a shadow over certain corners of the balcony, which were perfect for you to sneak around in.

You almost think that your guess is wrong and that the prince wasn’t here tonight— until you see a shadow emerge from inside of the palace. You step closer to the darkness as you look at him from the shadows.

Crown Prince Andrea approached the marble railings as the moonlight poured over him— regal and refined. His sharp eyes looked onto the horizon as he stood unmoving in the center of the balcony, detached from the world he was just in seconds ago.

From your place in the darkness, you drink him in. Curly hair, long eyelashes, an aura of indifference surrounding him. He was dressed in more casual clothing, his simple dress shirt bearing a contrast to the usual royal blue and black that he wears whenever you see him in the town square with his family. He isn’t wearing his crown either; without it, he has the silhouette of an ordinary boy.

The air suddenly feels colder. The bustle of the palace becomes silent. Everything is still, as if the world had finished preparing the scene for your strike and the prince’s final moments. You tighten your grip on your blade as you calm your beating heart. In all of your missions, you have never felt remorse for your targets. They were disposable, which explained why your client even hired you, you’d always think. Why would you feel sorry? You were just a hired blade.

But as you stepped closer and closer to the prince, slowly revealing yourself from the cradle of the shadows, an unexplainable feeling begins building up in your stomach. It crawled its way into your heart, making you bleed an emotion you didn’t know— pity? Sadness? Disappointment?

The blade in your hand twinkles against the moonlight. Did you actually feel bad for the prince? It wasn’t like he did anything wrong, you thought— what could he have possibly done that would make someone want him dead? From what you’ve seen of him; he’s been nothing but a kind and humble soul. He always smiled at the townspeople, worked hard to become a suitable heir to the throne, and whatever else the stories of him said.

But you had no time to think of this. Not now, when you raise your hand to cover his mouth as you pin him against the wall and away from the curtained doors leading back into the palace. He squirms under your grasp, and as you turn him towards you to sink the knife into his skin—

You freeze.

Sharp, almond eyes stare at you, shock and fear tainting his features. Your grip almost loosens when you meet his gaze, but your knife remains steady. It sits just below his chin, close enough to the skin of his neck that any more movement could tear it apart and slit his throat.

The words come out before you even know what they are. “Don’t move.”

A drop of sweat trickles down his forehead, dripping down onto his exposed collarbone. You follow it with your eyes, mouth slightly agape as you stare at his bare skin. You flick your gaze back at him.

“If you move even an inch, you’re dead.” You whisper, leaning into him. His eyes widened at that, but after a moment, his fearful stare dissolves into something calmer— he goes still, and you frown.

You weren’t unfamiliar with depressed targets— people who just accepted their fate after you ended them— but the prince was looking at you knowingly, as if he was aware of something you weren’t. It unsettled you, and your hand over his mouth slips ever so slightly.

Before you could press him against the wall again, the prince grabs the knife in your hand and gently drops it to the ground. The metal barely makes a sound as it falls— it was a custom blade made to be silent upon your request— and your heart skips.

You blink. Once. Twice. By this point, you would have already switched tactics and strangled him right then and there, clean up the possible fingertips you’d leave behind later, and get the job done. But now, you were staring at him dumbfoundedly as your grip on him loosened with every passing second.

His eyes unsettled you. His gaze was piercing, almost as if he was staring right through you. That knowing look never left his face even as he placed his hand over yours, gently lifting it from his mouth and back to your side. You were frozen still the entire time— the prince’s stare leaving you completely immobilized. You could hear your heart ringing in your ears now.

“I know you,” He whispered, tilting his head ever so slightly. His voice sends a shiver down your spine as you stiffened up. Your mind screamed at you— grab the knife and just stab him— but your heartbeat was louder than any other thought in your head. There was that feeling again from earlier— the way your stomach tied itself into a knot, the melancholy that clouded your judgement, and the split second where you felt a mix of pity, sadness, and disappointment— it was all coming back.

You stared at him. Your breath hitched in your throat when you meet his gaze. “What?”

“You’re that mercenary girl, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widened. Panic washes over you, and familiar instincts kick in. You grab both of his hands and press his back against the wall again, eyes burning with fury. But you don’t do anything more. You don’t break his hands or slam him against the marble. Instead, you open your mouth to speak. “How do you know that?”

He doesn’t move against your grip. You wonder if it’s not tight enough or if he’s got a loose screw when he replies, “My family told me about you.”

He smiled as he said it, and your brain short circuits for a split second. Your grip on him tightens, and you feel your judgement slowly bury itself away. “Shut up.”

“You were going to kill me, weren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Your jaw clenched. You couldn’t answer that. Questions swirled in your mind— why didn’t you? Your knife is still on the ground, and your grip on his hands doesn’t tighten or loosen. You don’t bruise his wrists or knock him out cold. You just look at him.

“You know,” He began, “I could pay you more than whoever told you to do this.”

You frowned. “And why should I?”

“Do you want to kill me?”

The question hung in the air like a blade. You blinked. Did you? You thought about that moment of hesitation you had as you snuck up behind him earlier— was that because you didn’t actually want to kill the prince? Did you feel for him? Was that why your knife felt heavier? Questions that haunted and clouded your judgement continued to conquer your mind, as the answers to them all felt farther and farther away.

That’s when you hear it. The slightest shuffle from the inside of the palace, along with hushed whispers. A feminine voice called from within- “Andrea? Where are you?”

The prince looked at you then. He didn’t say anything as he looked into your eyes, his amber gaze staring right into your soul and the inner conflict that you battled within yourself.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, your grip on his wrists immediately loosen and you push off him like fire. Your skin burns under a sensation that was never there— and deep down, a part of you mourns the bygone warmth. You looked over to the door. “Who was that?”

“My mom,” he said.

You sucked in a breath. You couldn’t kill him now. You wasted too much time talking to the person you were supposed to kill, for God’s sake— and now, the opportunity is gone. You expected to feel disappointed in yourself for letting a target go like this, but you didn’t. In fact, you felt something completely different: you felt relieved.

You didn’t want to believe the prince’s words. That you were unsure of killing him, or if you even wanted to at all. You knew yourself better than anyone, so who was this guy to make you think otherwise?

You didn’t have time to ponder over it any longer when you hear slow, cautious footsteps approach your direction in the shadows. You’re already preparing to take off into the night when the prince calls out— “wait,”

Your better judgement betrays you as you immediately halt to a stop when you hear his voice. You had your back turned to him now, and you didn’t want to look over your shoulder to see him— it made you scared, and you didn’t know why.

“What?”

“Will you come back?” he asked.

“Of course I will. I’m still going to kill you.” It sounded more like a reassurance for yourself rather than a threat.

“Okay, then.”

A beat. And then, he says, as if he wasn’t even afraid of you or the possibility of your blade sinking into his skin, “I’m Kimi, by the way.”

You scoffed, still not turning to look at him. “Don’t get personal with me, prince.”

Unbeknownst to you, he smiles. “If you say so.”

The feminine voice calls out again: “Andrea?”

You don’t hear Kimi reply anymore. You’re already jumping across the roofs again, riding the evening chill as you took off into the night. You’re faster on your feet compared to before— almost as if you were running from something or someone. You swore you heard the castle howl in the distance as you pulled further and further away, leaving behind the fleeting memory of the prince and his piercing gaze.

[nixalba]

i found a new place to look for fanfiction now 🫶

LIGHTS OUT...

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