#//did she call him 'Mac' out of a place of genuine care deep within or to manipulate him? vote now on your phones!

[thatonesakudere]

"What did I do that filled you with so much hate?" // mac for mayu

@badtrigger

The light flickers, letting the deep shadows of the night consume it all, her face, the desk, the walls; like a hungry beast that can never be sated. Then, it is cast back into the very corners of the room, squeezed between and under the furniture, banished from this temporary kingdom of hers — an office, larger than most, without a spec of dust and little warmth to it — and everything is harshly bright once more. Mayu's eyes squint at the change, slender fingers reflexively brought up to her face and under the red-rimmed glasses to rub out the black spots dotting her vision. Whether it's the lightbulb or the wiring, she'll have to bring someone to look at it-- Preferably sooner than later, lest the electronics give out on her during one of these work-filled nights. Lately, it feels there's been too many of them to count...

She doesn't bother to anymore.

His presence is hard to miss; a lumbering mass so out of place, drawing her eyes like a lamppost does a swarm of moths. He barely fits through the door, and only because the admin zone has been built with avatars and recoms in mind, soaring ceilings and wide corridors. The tiny flicker of hope that he's here on official business (regardless of the late hour) gets snuffed out as soon as Mays opens his mouth.

"What did I do that filled you with so much hate?"

"What didn't you do?" A humorless laugh slips from her lips, a mix of bile and venom coating her tongue. "You left me. You went out there and died, and I had to live with it. Grieve the death of a man I knew and learn to move on, only to find you here sixteen-fucking-years later. Truly, I cannot comprehend why do you find this simple concept so hard to understand--? Have you lost your wits along with your life?" Mayu's expression could almost be mistaken for one of coy amusement, had her eyes not been cold and hard, akin to shards of black ice. "The thing about my hate, boy, is that until you've walked a mile in my shoes, you won't know anything about it." About the pain it's been born from. For how can she not hate him, when feeling anything else other than contempt will only serve to bring more of it?

And yet, there still seems to be a place in her twice-rotten heart carved out just for him; pity floods it, a cruel sibling of 'compassion', and all that Mayu is capable of feeling at the moment... Nevertheless, it's more than most would have gotten from her; she must have gone soft after Masa's birth. "Go back to your duties, Mac. Or to bed. It's late," she chides him, suddenly drained, and gets up from the desk herself. It's comical, their height (size?) difference, further emphasized by most everything else in the room being human-sized. Perfect for her. Too small for him.

It makes her want to cry.

She doesn't — instead, she makes herself a cup of coffee.

[marvelfansince08love]

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3

Word Count: 2.5k 

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: just a bit fluffy x

A/N: Here’s part 3 - I hope you enjoy, loves x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @pearplate @r0an0ke @minavenable @coconutlipss @creepingwolfberry @saucy-sapphic @venablemayfairgoode @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @nyx-aira @witchxaf @supremeinlilac @black--widxw​ @fireflyglass​ @cordeliafoxxe​ @d14n4ol

Part One, Part Two 

Not my gif! 

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3 

The school gate is full of parents and guardians anticipating the ear-screeching sound of the school bell. You stand fidgeting slightly as the slight breeze picks up crossing your arms against your chest, actively wrapping the long coat around your body for warmth. A handful of children burst through the double doors of the building heading straight over into your general direction. Your eyes scan frantically for your sweet girl, relaxing a little once you eye her signature beanie. Her innocent eyes clash with your own, a bright smile appearing on her lips as she races towards you. 

“Mommy!” she screeches without a care in the world, her arms stretch out wide as she collides into your stomach making you grunt at the impact. Wrapping your arms tightly around her small frame you allow your nose to rest on top of her covered hair, basking in her presence for a moment. 

“I’ve missed you today, sweet pea. How was it? Did you make any new friends?” you ask excitedly, bursting at the seams. Amelia matches your enthusiasm as she lists her new classmates and her wonderful teacher, she gasps suddenly as if remembering the most important piece of information. 

“And the best part of it all is that Oz is in my new class!” she exclaims, stopping in her tracks to allow you to remove her backpack so you can carry it for her. You gasp excitedly at her words genuinely happy that her already new found friend is in her class putting some of your worries a side. You’re still rather apprehensive about the new move from within the city but you know deep down this a good fresh start for you both. Before you can continue to walk back to the car, a loud voice calls out Amelia’s name making you both turn at the sound. Oz rushes forward making his way over to you both, a woman you don’t recognize racing after him to catch up. 

‘This must be the babysitter,’ You think, remembering your conversation with Ally over the weekend when she invited you into her home. Ally had a big senate dinner in the city and couldn’t get out of it, you debated offering to babysit Oz while she was stuck at work but realised you were still a complete stranger to her despite only living next door and seeing how well set up her home is regarding security you knew Ally was hesitant when it came to trusting people. 

Oz stands next to Amelia as he tries to catch his breath, he waves tiredly at you before adjusting his glasses, his babysitter not far behind.

“Hi, Miss.Y/N.” He greets, still slightly breathless. You grin fondly at the sweet blonde boy, holding your hand out for him to high-five which he reciprocates happily. 

“Hey Oz! How was your first day back at school?” you ask, knowing that Ally had her worries about him despite her attempts to hide it. He smiles shyly and shrugs indifferently.

“It was okay, I guess. Still the same kids and teacher except for Amelia, we’re in the same class this year!” he informs you, making you chuckle at their excitement to be able to spend more time together. You’re secretly grateful that they have become such fast friends. 

“That’s amazing buddy!” you comment, just as his babysitter places a hand on his shoulder. Her flustered state did not go unnoticed. 

“Oz! You gotta wait for me okay? You can’t be scaring me like that.” she scolds softly, fear evident in her tone. Oz nods guiltily before whispering to Amelia who giggles nodding at whatever he told her. You narrow your eyes at the mischievous pair before glancing at the woman who puts her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m so sorry about that, I’m Lily. I babysit Oz when Ally can’t get away from work,” she explains, grinning sheepishly. You take her hand and shake once before awkwardly letting go.

“Hi, I’m Y/N and this is Amelia. We’re Ally and Oz’s new next door neighbours,” you inform her, watching as something clicks within her eyes. 

“Of course! Ally mentioned new neighbours, well it was lovely to meet you both but we gotta run and get home,” she murmurs, as Oz groans in protest. 

“Can’t I hang out with Amelia, Lily please?!” Oz begs, jittering his bottom lip, his big brown eyes wide as you watch her struggle under his adorable gaze. You crouch down to be eye-level with him as his attention draws to you.

“Oz, Lily here probably wants to prepare dinner for you and get you sorted before your mom comes home, yeah?” you justify, watching as he frowns at your words. Knowing you’ll have a battle on your hand you try a different tactic. Leaning forward you take a big whiff in scrunching your nose for extra effect and sniff near him again, he giggles at your silliness. 

“Y/n why are you sniffing me?!” he asks through giggles as Amelia begins to sniff him as well laughing in the process. 

“I think we have one stinky boy on our hands, what do you think Amelia, Lily?” you address the two females watching as Lily picks up on your efforts, nodding along with you. 

“We don’t like stinky boys, mommy,” Amelia comments, scrunching her nose. Oz gasps and protests through more giggles as your fingers meet his ribcage. 

“Noooo, stoo- stop! I promise I’ll bathe!” he says through giggles. You lax from your tickle attack and stand winking subtly at Lily who looks at you gratefully. 

“How about you go home with Lily and then once I’ve spoken to your mom, you can come over to our house during the week for dinner?” you compromise, watching on in amusement as the clogs turn inside his youthful mind. He looks you in the eyes and nods, putting his hand out for you to shake to seal the deal. 

You pretend to spit into your hand before going to take his small one, watching as he pulls a face full of disgust at your gesture but you can see the amusement in his eyes. 

“Deal,” he says, finalising your little exchange. You nod and grab hold of Amelia’s hand who smiles brightly, her cheeks red from the laughter. 

“Bye bye Ozzy, see you tomorrow at school!” she waves her free hand at him. You say your goodbyes to the blonde boy and his poor babysitter, already discovering that behind that shy exterior there is one adorably cheeky little boy.

“Come on you, let’s get you home.” you murmur to your daughter, feeling your arm swing at your side as she skips happily next to you. 

***

The house is quiet with only the low muffled sounds of the news presenter that echoes from your TV screen in the living room, you sip from your favourite alcoholic beverage as you lazily watch the bright screen while dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and an old big Fleetwood Mac shirt. You were almost ready to call it a night when the sound of keys jingling in the keyhole from outside startles you from your daydreaming, the sudden sound causes you to spill reminisce of the drink onto your pants making you groan before you tense realising that the only other people with a key is your brother and father; who are both back in the city. Wearily walking over to the door you grab hold of the big umbrella by the front door, peeking through the peephole. A faint blurred figure stands next to the door on the other side, the familiar brown short hair and stature makes you relax almost instantly as you place the umbrella down and unlock the door. Ally sways slightly on her feet at the sudden sound and movements of the door opening, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she eyes you dressed in a black pantsuit which shows off her curves beautifully. 

“Not that I’m mad about this but why are you in my house?” she asks, her voice slurring slightly in her drunken state making you bite your lip to hold back a smile. Her big brown glossy eyes take in your attire before scanning the hallway past your shoulder, you step closer to her noticing her off balance to help guide her into the warmth of your home. As soon as your hand touches her arm she leans in closer to you, shivering from the night's cold air. 

“I believe you, it is you who is trespassing onto my property, Senator.” you tease, a soft grin appearing onto your lips as you gently guide her into the living room sitting her onto the sofa and taking a seat next to her. Her eyes squint as she takes in the bare living room trying to piece the room together in her head, her red lips forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes land onto your amusing form. 

“Oh,” she whispers, before you nod to her silent conclusion. You laugh at her apologetic face which makes her giggle too. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I may have had a little more wine than I originally thought,” she tries to explain through slurred words as she sinks heavily into the sofa, closing her eyes briefly as she places a hand over her them. You pat her knee in comfort still rather amused that someone who is usually so well put together can be such a sloppy drunk.

“Would you like a drink of water, Ally?” you whisper, hoping that the disruption downstairs hasn’t disturbed a sleeping Amelia. She spreads her fingers apart and peeks through the gap nodding, a small pout forming onto her full lips making you linger on the enticing soft red a moment longer before quickly diverting your eyes away and standing muttering “I’ll be just a minute”. 

You let out the breath you're holding and fill the glass up with cold water, taking a few minutes to gather your thoughts. You’ve noticed the small sparks between you both ever since you laid eyes on her through her kitchen window, her eyes always lingering on your lips that little bit longer whenever you spoke when you went to introduce yourself. Rubbing at your temple gently you argue with yourself knowing that the whole reason you moved here was to have a fresh start, just you and Amelia. After your ex-fiance left right after giving birth to Amelia you decided right there and then that you don’t need anyone and even if you did try you would only be blindsided and hurt again. Ally is like a bright burning flame and the more you see her the more that light intrigues you to step forward and become close to it.

‘But at some point that bright light goes off and you are left to feel nothing’ you conclude, shaking your head at your conflicting thoughts before stepping away from the sink and heading back to the living room. You stop in your tracks by the staircase, your eyes widen at the familiar young voice from behind you.

“Why is Miss. Ally in our house, mommy?!” Amelia’s tired voice asks, you turn around and hold your hand out for her to take as she descends from the last few steps. You glance briefly over to Ally who sits on the sofa still, leaning her forearms against the top of the sofa she grins at Amelia. 

“How do you know you’re not in my house?” she questions, a teasing glint in her eyes as Amelia’s eyes widen for a second innocently believing any word from an adults mouth. Her gaze turns to me for confirmation making you quickly shake your head, scolding playfully over to Ally who shrugs innocently. 

“I see the wine has flown from your head to your mouth,” you grumble playfully, watching as she scrunches her nose apologetically. Amelia glances at you confused before turning her gaze back to Ally.

“Are you having a sleepover with my mom?” her innocent eyes stare openly at Ally, who’s lips twitch at your daughter's words, her eyes lingering on your form for a moment, making you squirm slightly under her dark gaze. 

“Well wouldn’t that be fun, huh Melia! Unfortunately silly me got confused and thought this was my  house!” she explains to her gently, her words more clearer now that she’s aware of her current state as well as Amelia’s presence and being a mother herself she knows when to switch back into the role despite the alcohol that swarms around in her head. Ally squints in discomfort as she lightly grazes her temple with her fingertips making you move forward quickly handing her the glass of water, she quietly thanks you and takes a delicate sip sighing in relief at the cold texture. Amelia moves forward and sits next to Ally on the sofa, swinging her legs as they hover above the rug. 

“You gotta headache, Miss. Ally? Mom always tells me to drink lots of water when I get a headache,” she informs, smiling pleased to have informed Ally of something so important. Ally places the glass down on the table and cups Amelia’s cheek, stroking her thumb across her full cheek, smiling adoringly at her. You stand still by the doorway, a sense of warmness spreading across your chest as you watch them interact. Usually you would be wary of new friends touching Amelia so freely but Ally has such a natural instinct to comfort and show simple displays of affection, especially to Oz it almost feels safe to have interacted with Amelia in this way. 

“I’m okay, sweet girl. I was a bit silly at dinner tonight and the wine has made me a little loopy,” she explains to her, smiling wide as Amelia giggles into her hands. 

“Wine is yucky! Mommy says it’s only for adults and it tastes funny,” You nod agreeing with before moving forward and crouching down next to her. 

“That’s right munchkin. Now why don’t you quickly grab your coat and boots so we can walk Ally to her door,” you suggest, watching her once sleepy eyes widen in excitement at the prospect of a late night adventure on a school night even if it’s to walk across the yard. 

“Oh Y/N you really don’t-” you stop her protests with a flick of your hand. 

“It’s fine Ally, I’d feel better if I got you home safe,” you insist, standing to grab your shoes to stop any further protests from the brunette. 

Once you are both ready, you open your front door to allow her and Amelia to step outside. Amelia skips ahead a short feet away leaving you side to side with the brunette beauty, her shoulder brushing lightly against your own making you shiver at the innocent brushing. Ally looks over to you in concern. 

“Are you cold? Honestly, you and Amelia go back in I’m about ten steps away from my doorstep,” she chuckles but you can see in her eyes under the bright glow of the streetlights that she’s grateful for the company, still a little unsteady on her feet. As you reach the porch steps you instinctively place a hand onto her back to steady her balance as she ascends, you feel the small tension in her back from the cold slowly relax under your touch, glancing briefly at her face you notice a small smile gracing her lips softly. As you reach the top Amelia is already waiting for you both rocking back and forth on her heels. 

“Is Ozzy awake? Can we play hide and seek?” she asks excitedly, as she yawns straight after. You share an amusing look with your neighbour, knowing all too well the persistence of a tired child. 

“No sweetheart, he’s in bed or he should be. I’m going to check now to make sure before I go to bed myself,” Ally murmurs quietly, bending down to brush some of Amelia’s escaped strands of hair from under her trusted beanie. Amelia pouts and you groan to yourself knowing what's coming. 

“Okay Amelia Cakes, we’ll see Ozzy tomorrow but you gotta go back to bed once we get in ready to hang out with him tomorrow in school,” you justify, raising an eyebrow at her grumpy expression which falters under your stern but kind gaze. Her shoulders slump as she realises her defeat. 

“Okay, Mommy.” she grumbles tiredly moving closer over to you and cuddling into your side. Ally watches on in light amusement staying quiet while you speak to your daughter. Looking up at her you notice the tiredness forming around her eyes too, deciding to call it night you wait until Ally unlocks her door before giving her a shy smile and wave. 

“Night Neighbour,” you murmur, a small glint of amusement in your eyes as she matches your expression. 

“Good night, dancing queens. Thank you for walking me home,” she whispers, leaning against her door frame a soft smile playing on her lips. You nod once before turning your gaze onto Amelia as you feel your coat tuck downwards on your body. With big pleading eyes you sigh fondly knowing exactly what she wants, crouching you turn away from her and grunt as the new found weight lands onto your back, little legs wrapping around your hips and arms circling around your neck. You stand and smile once more at Ally who watches on fondly before nodding towards your house, she nods in understanding and places a hand on Amelia’s back. 

“Sweet dreams Amelia,” 

“Nighty night, Miss. Ally.” her tired grumbles come from your back as she flaps her fingers in some sort of wave making you both laugh. 

Stepping down the steps carefully you steadily make your way over to your drive, turning back slightly as you see Ally peep over and wave one finally before stepping into the house. Keeping Amelia on your back you make your way through the house and into her bedroom, placing her gently onto the bed with the smallest of bounce making her giggle tiredly. Pulling off her boots and coat you wait for her to crawl under the duvet, beanie still in place. Once settled you take the beanie off and leave it by her bedside, brushing her hair from her face watching her eyelashes flutter as she struggles to stay awake. 

‘Hide and seek huh? Maybe next time kid’ you smile to yourself. Placing a gentle kiss to her forehead you turn her lamp off and switch on her starlight's before leaving the door ajar. 

Making your way downstairs, you go to grab Ally’s empty glass and take it through into the kitchen. Standing by the sink you rinse the glass out and place it onto the drying rack, a light from across the way makes you glance over curiously. To your surprise, standing by her own kitchen window drinking a glass of water is, Ally. As if sensing eyes on her, brown eyes find your form through the window making you tentatively raise a hand and wave in greeting. Ally places her index up to you indicating for you to wait there, she disappears from view for a moment before returning again her gaze falling to the floor for a few moments before locking onto you again an amusing grin in place. 

“Are you sure this is my house?” the question written in bold for you to see from across the way. Clicking onto her game you turn to look for one of Amelia’s old notepads, grabbing a black marker from the draw. 

“I can show you the lease if you like?” her mouth opens wide indicating her laughter before looking down again for a few moments.

“I’ll believe you for now…” 

“Phew, I was worried for a second there” she grins at that, biting down onto her bottom lip as if debating her next move.

“So sleepovers huh?” her eyebrows raise in a teasing manner, wiggling the dark brows for extra effect making you chuckle. 

“Sorry only cool kids allowed ;)”  you shrug indifferently but the small grin that appears upon your lips shows you enjoy teasing her back. 

“That’s a shame, I’m rather inclined to the idea of an adult sleepover” her wicked grin shows her victory over this silent flirting game as you flush and gap at her for a second unable to follow up. Not wanting her to have the last word you confidently write out your next sign. 

“I’m more of a wine and dine first kinda gal, I’m afraid” you say but gulp once you realise the opening you’ve given her. 

“Is that you agreeing to a date that I haven’t even asked you out on yet?” her teasing message makes you groan as you feel your cheeks warm at the question. Placing both hands over your eyes, you miss the fond expression that makes its way onto Ally’s face as she waits patiently for you to look at her again. Peeking through you notice she’s placed a new sign upon the window with a wide smile grazing her lips. 

“8 o’clock Friday? x” are the only words written as she waits for your reply. Biting your lip you contemplate her offer, wanting to push down the negative thoughts that begin to surface. The feeling of nervousness spreads low in your stomach as you think about the last time you even went on a date knowing how well that turned out, looking back over to her face you notice the slight falter in her expression as you take your time to reply. Before you can contemplate further, your hand begins to trace the words that seal the deal. 

“Can’t wait x”

[multiverseofimagines]

Seven Wonders [ Billy Hargrove x Reader]

[ Based off Seven Wonders by Fleetwood Mac]

Description: Billy Hargrove never thought he would live long enough to see love, let alone everything it comes with.

Warnings: Angst, Suicidal thoughts, Brief mention of abuse, Homophobic slur, mention of religion?? Kinda?

Authors note: This was so fucking hard for me to write, because  I’m just really in my feelings right now and it took me like a week. So, here’s this shitty, fic. Enjoy my pain.

Requests: Open

1; So it’s hard to find Someone with that kind of intensity

Billy Hargrove was anything but a lover, but he wanted to be. It was difficult for the broken boy though, the only love he had remembered was that of his Mother’s. She had a heart of gold, ice cold eyes and honey suckle hair. She did nothing but give her heart to everyone and everything around her, doing so with passion. The type of passion worth getting emotional over, a passion greater than selfish desire. Pure passion to make others happy.

Though Billy wanted the same passion fired heart as his Mother’s, he felt as if it was too out of reach. At this point, though if the boy wanted to love, he needed to love himself first.

That was going to be a challenge.

How could he love himself? All he ever did was fuck things up and push people away.

But you didn’t see that.

You saw a boy who was capable of more than he bargained for; A boy with so much love to give, but not knowing how to give it. 

This was because you saw so much of him, in yourself.

You met Billy mid November, he was well known for a shitty reputation. This reputation really pushed you away from him, but you couldn’t deny feeling some sort of pull towards him. He was like a car wreck; Awful but you couldn’t look away.

He noticed this, because he had felt it too. Though you weren’t as talked about, nor were you known for the reputation he was, not a lot of people liked you. You were awkward, and had a uniqueness to you that other girls didn’t have in Hawkins. But not everyone saw this in the positive light that he did. 

He saw you as the ocean he held so dearly to his heart, beautiful, mysterious and filled with many different wonders. 

All he wanted to do was dive in,  and find out what was inside of the waves you had created to keep people out. And that’s exactly what he did.

Billy started to try and converse with you, but you were stubborn and afraid to let people in, not knowing their intentions. Especially his.  He would ask you for a pencil, and you’d lie and say yours was the last one, when both of you knew damn well you kept many. He would find you in the hall putting your items into your locker, and the minute he would walk up to you, you’d slam the locker shut and walk away. It was like trying to catch the wave while he was still on land, impossible.

But he never gave up, he was determined to befriend you, yet he didn’t even have a reason other than your mysterious beauty. But, with Billy he never needed a reason, he just did what he pleased. That’s why when your English teacher spoke of an assigned partner project, you could have sworn when Billy went to go talk to the teacher, that he had somehow begged to be put with you, and he was.

Billy walked over to your desk, plopping in the infamous empty seat beside you. You turned to look at him, confusion plastered on your face, but somehow happiness radiating from your heart.

“ Guess I’m stuck with ya’ princess.” 

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

2;You touched my hand I played it cool And you reached out your hand for me

One of the only way’s Billy was ever going to learn how to love was to open up about his feelings. Though to anyone on the outside, that seemed easy enough. He showed a lot of emotion, mostly anger and smugness. But when you were on the inside looking in, it was a completely different perspective.

The project was going well, though you two had only worked together once within the week, progress was pursuing. That is until the second meetup. You two had planned to work on the project at your house that night, at 7:00 on the dot.

But when Seven had rolled around, there was no Billy. And it was an understatement to say you were just upset, you were almost heartbroken. You had put trust into even inviting him to your home, even when you felt slightly uncomfortable with it. You wanted to genuinely give him a chance and he bailed out on you, not even calling to let you know.

It was now 10pm, you were in bed reading, as usual. That’s when out of a leap of faith, there was a knock on your bedroom window, and it was none other than Billy Hargrove. You almost considered letting him freeze in the November wind, or perhaps push him to the ground. But you cared somewhat for the curly haired asshole, so opened the window.

Billy Hargrove had just climbed through your window, bloody nose, bruised face and tear stains covering his cheeks. To say you had a clue on what to do was a lie, you had no idea.

“ Billy, oh my god“  You furrowed your eyebrows, placing a hand on his arm awkwardly, yet in comfort.

“Sorry for ditching out on you Princess, kinda got tied up in something.” He laughed sarcastically, instantly wincing afterwards. He pulled away from your touch to go sit on your bed, “ Nice house you got.” He acted so casually, like nothing was wrong, as if he didn’t have dried blood leaking from his nose or a black eye. 

You sat beside him on the bed, crossing your legs and leaning against the headboard “ How’d you know this was my room?” You asked remaining calm, yet your instincts screamed at you to demand an explanation of some sort.

“ Lucky guess.” He smirked, still admiring your awfully messy yet whimsical room. He was finally getting touch of the wave. 

“ And if it were my parents room?” You cocked an eyebrow, smirking back at him.

“ Then I guess I’d be a dead man.” You both chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake your parents up and making that statement a reality. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you spoke up again. This time not holding back.

“ Billy, what happened?” You looked at him and focused on his injuries. He smiled slightly, but it wasn’t a genuine smile.

“ Don’t worry about me Y/N. I’m okay.” He said, looking down, not wanting to meet your gaze, afraid that you would see the tears forming at the edge of his eyes.

“ You’re not okay Billy.” You now knew that the way he put himself out in school was all an act, but you didn’t know what for. Was it a crave for attention? Was it to feel powerful? So many questions were to be answered on your bed that night.

“ Don’t tell me how I fucking feel Y/N.” And with that, it was as if a faucet had turned on inside of him, tears leaking from his eyes, uncontrollably. Yet, no sounds or emotion to it, just tears. You didn’t know what to do, you barley knew the Billy Hargrove from school, how were you supposed know what to do with this one?

But your heart told you to do something, to leap out of your comfort zone. To trust.

You leaned forward slightly, reaching your arm out carefully before placing your hand on top of his, squeezing lightly. This action surprised him, for it had been so long that he had felt a loving hand touch him in such a way. He looked back at you longingly, but not with romance, with a sense of friendship and belonging.

3; Well you know I’m sorry but If I live to see the seven wonders

A friendship so deep had formed between the two of you, something that could never be destroyed. Not a lot of people understood what he saw in you, and it definitely changed his reputation, but it was worth it for him. Though the two of you had a deep bond, there was still so many questions left unanswered.

You knew about his father, but not to the full extreme. You knew he got mad at Billy and would get into physical altercations but you didn’t know how deep the psychological damage had ran through Billy’s veins.

That is until, he lent you his varsity jacket.

It was coming to the end of December and as the days went by you noticed Billy become more unusual. He rarely spoke at school, had no interest in anything and hid himself in a grey oversized sweater, rather than the usual half buttoned up shirts.

You asked him if he was okay around ten times a day, and he always replied with a soft smile and a, “ Yeah I’m fine. Don’t worry bout’ it princess.”  But you knew something was up.

It was the night of Tina’s Christmas themed party and you had dragged Billy to it. Though she wasn’t fond of you, she had a flame for Billy so she kissed his ass. Billy got bored an hour in though and begged you to leave. You were compliant and left the house to go to his car, shivering at winter nipping your clothed yet cold arms.

“ You gotta start wearing a proper jacket doll.” He chuckled slightly at your stupidity, as he took his varsity jacket off of him to give to you. He handed it out to you, but you shook your head.

“ Billy I’ll be home in like 15 minutes, I’m good.” You tried to convince him, but you knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“ Just take the fucking jacket Y/N.” He looked at you with annoyance, yet compassion. He really didn’t want to see you cold, but he also for an instance thought how fucking cute it would be to see you wearing his beloved basketball jacket.

You took the jacket, rolling your eyes while doing so and put it on. Billy dropped you off at your house around 25 minutes later, slower than usual due to it being an awfully slippery winter.

You hadn’t even thought to give Billy his jacket back before he drove off into the night. You only noticed that the jacket was still on you when you put a hand into the pocket, feeling paper. You didn't realize what it was until you opened up the folded piece of paper to discover his messy handwriting. You cautiously read it, not knowing what to think or how to feel.

" Dear Mom,

I’m not sure how to write this or why I’m even writing it. I just need to talk to someone, something and get all of this off my chest. 

I’m so confused about my life. I want to make something of it, but I feel like it’s too late. I never imagined myself to live to 18, let alone graduate. Everyone already has these big plans for colleges or jobs, but I just wanna go back to California. That’s really the only plan I have.

I’m just so angry. I’m angry that your gone. I’m angry that I live in this shithole town. I’m angry because everyone around me is happier than I’ll ever be. 

I know this is actually stupid, and writing this isn’t going to do anything. But I can’t say how I feel out loud. I mean, I have friends, but I don’t want to air out my dirty laundry on them, ya know? That’s just pathetic of me. 

I just wish you were here to tell me that everything isn’t as shitty as it seems.

I’m not sure what life will bring at this point, and I really hope I make it through the next year without blowing my fucking brains out. Which is also pretty pathetic if you ask me. Anyway, that’s all that I have right now, and yes Dad is still a dick.

love you and miss you.

Billy.”

How do you react to something like that? What were you to do?

The only thing that replayed in your head was the fact he didn’t expect to live to 18. Had he been planning on killing himself? Or was it a mere thought? You needed to know.

4; I'll make a path to the rainbow's end I'll never live to match the beauty again

You didn’t know whether to be angry at your friend, or sympathetic. You were awfully hurt that even with your support, he still thought Hawkins was some shit hole and that everything was shit. You felt like you had failed such an important task, to make him happy.

After reading the note you became distant again. Anytime he tried to talk to you, you would push him away. Though deep down you knew it would lead to the downfall of your relationship, you still did it anyway.

Sure, it was self destructive. But so was he.

Billy became desperate, he knew what you were doing but had no idea why. He wasn’t angry either, just confused. He wanted to know what he had done, and why he was losing his friend, his best friend. That word lingered in his mind, and yet, even though you were his best friend, it didn’t feel right. It felt weird to say it, let alone think it. But at the time, he let the thought slip away, letting a feeling of numbness wash over him.

Billy came up with a plan, but he needed someone’s help. Who could he trust? That question didn’t come with very many answers.

5; It's a certain time It's a certain place

Billy trusted one person, but would she ever do it? There was always a time and place for everything and Billy was going to find out if the universe would work in his favour with this one.

Billy knocked on the white bedroom door, keep out scrawled on a piece of paper taped to the door. There was no answer. Billy knocked again, “ Max! Open up!” He yelled. A groan and hard footsteps came from behind the door. Billy anxiously playing with the final button on his shirt before the door opened slightly, the eye of his step-sister poking through to look at him. “ What do you want?” It didn’t even sound like a question, as annoyance soaked into her voice.

“ I need your help.” He sighed, still looking down, fiddling with the red button. The door now opened fully, Max standing in the door way, arms crossed. 

“What’s in it for me?” Billy looked up at her with disgust,  but quickly rechecked his priorities before opening his mouth, something he only learned until he met you.

“ I’ll drive you to the arcade.” He groaned.

“ You already do that.” She was right. He needed to do something bigger.

“ I’ll drive you and that Sinclair kid wherever you want.” Billy grumbled out, Max nodding her head, “ Hmm not bad,” Billy had thought he hit the jackpot, keyword thought. 

“ But,” 

“ There’s a but?” He asked in frustration, she laughed coldly.

“ Yeah, there’s a but. Both of us know what I want.” She looked at him with an abundance of cockiness and power. Billy knew that she had been wanting to learn how to drive with him, but he was not letting her hurt is baby let alone touch it.

He scoffed. “ No fucking way Maxine! I’m not doing that, nope. Not happening kid.” He shook his head, his tongue darting across his bottom lip in annoyance.

“  Then I’m not helping you.” She sighed dramatically, batting her eyelashes a little bit.

Billy knew he had to do it, he knew it’s what he had to do to get you back.

“ Fine! Fine.” He huffed out, rolling his eyes. Max grinned. 

6;If I hope and I pray Ooh it might work out someday

Billy knew you well, maybe too well perhaps. He knew that you could never say no to a kid, let alone his little sister. You two had become closer through out the short yet deep connection you and Billy had formed. You were a lot like Max in most ways. You were independent, strong and skillful, and she liked that about you, she almost looked up to you.

Max picked up the phone and dialed your house, taking a deep breath in and out, preparing for her act.

“ Hello?” You spoke. Max looked at Billy for a moment, horror washing over her face in nervousness. She let it fade quickly though, she couldn’t mess this up.

“ Hi! Is this Y/N?!” She spoke quickly and desperately. 

“ Yeah-”

“ Its Max! Billy’s sister-”

“ uhhh-”

“ I uhm- I got my period and I don't know what to do??” She looked back at Billy, horror cemented on his face. “ For fuck sake.” He swore under his breath.

“ Oh- Well you just-” 

“ Can you just come over? I really don't know what I’m doing.” Max interrupted.

“ Sure?” You gave in, still confused.

Though you hoped you didn’t have to deal with Billy, a part of you really wanted to see him and ask him if he was okay.

“ Okay! Cool! Bye!” Max spoke quickly, hanging up the line, leaving you to find whatever feminine hygiene products she could use, before driving over to Billy’s.

You knocked on the Hargrove’s door, anxiety filling your chest and stomach as the door opened revealing Max, the feisty, fiery haired Step-Sister of Billy. You smiled down at her and she awkwardly did the same. 

“ Come inside.” She gestured, and you did so. 

The home looked cozy, but felt unsettling. You knew too much about what went on within the walls, skewing your image of the house. You were on edge as Max guided you to what you could only assume as her room. She opened the door for you and stepped out of the way for you to go first. Behind the door revealing none other than Billy Hargrove.

You sighed as you walked into the room fully, almost jumping at the sound of Max closing the door behind you, leaving you and Billy alone with one another. In this moment you could run, but you knew you had to face your best friend.

“Billy I-” You went to go explain but he interrupted.

“ Don’t.” He looked at you coldly, uncomfortably moving close to you.

“ Just don't say a fucking word, okay?” You nodded your head nervously, feeling his hot breath come down against your face. His face coming so close to yours that your foreheads were touching.

That’s when it happened, his lips were attached to yours, kissing you hungrily. You tangled your hands into his hair, briefly kissing back before pulling away completely, stepping back from him. He gave you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I-I’m sorry Billy. I can’t do this.” You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. You desperately needed to get out of there, and that’s exactly what you did, you ran out of the house, the yelling of your name coming from Billy’s voice playing back in your head over and over.

7; I'll never live to match the beauty again

Billy had many girlfriends after that day, but none of them made him feel the way you made him feel. This finally made him realise he had been in love. He was in love and he fucked it up.

You watched him and other girls from afar, your heart ached every time you saw his lips against another’s, reminding you of his voice desperately yelling your name.

You had never wanted to go back in time so bad, you knew it was a mistake, and you couldn’t do anything to fix it. You questioned why you even left in the first place, but Graduation day brought the answer to you.

It was after the ceremony, you were taking pictures with your friends and family, that is until Billy awkwardly walked up, taping on your shoulder as you spoke with Steve. You turned, face to face with the curly haired boy.

“ Can we like- talk?” He asked, nervously looking at his feet, not wanting to look at you in the eyes.

You turn to Steve, then to Billy, “ Yeah sure. I’ll be back Steve.”

You and Billy awkwardly walked side by side to the bleachers, not saying a word until both of your asses sat on the steps of the bleachers closest to the ground. Your feet kicked into the dirt below you, nervously waiting for him to talk, to ask you what had happened that day. 

“ Why?” He asked with no emotion to his voice, “ All I want to know is why.” Though his voice was cold, you could tell his heart was broken, as was yours.

“ I guess, I was just, scared to let you in ya know.” You shrugged, eyes glued to the dirt. 

“ That can’t be the only reason.” He was right, it wasn’t; It all started with that stupid note you had found.

“I found a note in your letter bomb,” He looked at you, focusing on the details of your face, doused in more makeup than you were use to. 

“ I guess- I guess, I felt like chopped liver ya know?” You began to tear up, but you held back briefly, “ I’ve never had a best friend in my entire life, and when I read the letter and how you talked of killing yourself and how Hawkins was some-some shit hole,” You started crying, angry at yourself and at the Boy you loved so dearly.

“I felt like a failure.” Billy, was now crying, like he had the night he snuck into your room through the window, he still looked at you though, which wasn't an often occurrence when he cried, you could tell that he was his most vulnerable at this moment. He was upset you had felt this way yet never told him. He knew what it was like to feel like a failure, to feel like the blood was on your hands, and he never wanted you to feel like that ever again.

He reached out at your hand, cautiously. You turned to look at him the minute you felt his rough hands touch yours. 

“ I’m 100% sure your anything but a failure princess.” He looked at you through his lashes, as he began his emotional speech.

“ You are like the coolest chick I know okay? Your the only reason I’m even sitting here in this stupid fucking, gay ass gown. But I absolutely love it for some reason. For some reason I can’t shake you off. That really says something Doll. Call me fucking crazy okay, but, but- I haven't felt this feeling before, until you.” You looked him dead in the eye, your mouth slightly parted in confusion on what he had been trying to describe.

“ I don't know what to call it, and I know you aren't mine or anything, and you probably have a thing for Harrington or something, or-” That's when you realised the answer to all your questions; Why you left the house, why you pushed him away and why your lips were pressed so softly to his in the very moment.

You were in love.

It was just a soft peck that lasted a mear five seconds.

You pulled away, smirking at him, “ Just don't say a fucking word okay?” Before pulling him back in by the collar of his gown, kissing him more passionately.

And Billy Hargrove would finally learn how to love, his mother watching down on him, making sure he did it right.

[satin-swallow]

Mystery at Mountbatten || Chapter Eight || Straight Down to Earth

“Josephine stared at her with tortured pain etched all across her face, ‘I can already see her in your eyes.’”

Fandom: Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries Characters: Phryne Fisher & Jack Robinson Rating: T Genre: Mystery/Suspense/Ghost Story

By the light of day, no one really dares to share what they've been through.

Please read and comment at AO3 if you have a moment. Thank you!

“Paint ghosts over everything, the sadness of everything.”

(Richard Siken, War of the Foxes)

  They had - none of them - dared to speak a word about it.

 As they sat down the hall from Arthur Johns’ hospital room, there was silence apart from the mumbling that could be heard beneath the door as doctors shuffled about their morning duties. The muted babble gave the air of strained questions and dim concerns. Reginald stood near the window of the waiting room, his face the most serious any had perhaps seen it as he gently held his arm, which was bound and slung, a grazed bullet-wound rendering it all but useless for the moment. Hugh’s head was in his hands as he sat forward on an old wooden chair, guilt clawing at him ferociously, and the feeling of his pistol - now confiscated - still resting heavy in his palm. Mac, not quite as incapacitated as poor Dr Winslow, had leaned against a nearby table after she had been ushered out of the room; even with a patch of gauze to mark the spot in which she had been injured, she still wore the white coat that illustrated the care she had insisted on giving the boy at once.

 Soon, though, it had been time for questions.

 The doctor had now turned her attention to Phryne, watching her closely as she stood at the centre of the room, staring at the door as though it might grant her access to the interview down the way by sheer will. Her eyes were fixed and if Mac knew anything - which of course she did, and a great deal - she knew that meant that her friend was deeply troubled by the whole affair.  

 Then, weren’t they all?      

 When that door finally opened, it seemed that Phryne had been in some sort of trance, frozen in place until the moment she had stepped forward into Jack’s path and pressed him without speaking for everything he knew. His face was grave, clearly exhausted, and the shake of his head made all in the room hold their breaths.

 “He won’t speak,” he muttered hoarsely to Phryne, and it broke her heart on the spot. Her fingers curled round until they were clutching at his sleeve, and held his gaze with an earnest grief, “He just… he can’t.”

 “Not even to his parents?”

 Jack simply shook his head.

 “It’s the trauma,” Mac added gravely, “we’ve seen it before with children, a kind of shell shock.”  

 That the same impact could be visited on a child as on a man returned from war, none fancied to consider for long. Jack swallowed before the practicality of his work wrapped up those concerns into a more functional outlook, “Yes, well, at least he’s now safe. His parents will stay with him and report anything further to the Constabulary as it arises.”

 The silence seemed to ring. Could the entirety of the thing really come to nothing more than a watching brief?

 “And our reports?” Reginald offered up meekly.

 “What we need in the first instance has already been handled by the constables on duty at the Hall,” Jack responded, “we’ll call you in for the formalities tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to rest.”

 Phryne’s grasp had not left Jack’s sleeve, just as her eyes had not left his face. They now seemed to echo the thoughts from around the room that ‘rest’ might not be had for some time.

 “You’re free to leave,” Jack said. Nobody moved.

 None asked what was next either, since the precarious nature of the whole was more than apparent. Indeed they were sure that the announcement of Arthur Johns’ reappearance would be widely reported considering the surrounding circumstances - which more than a few might consider unusual - and which never seemed to work in the Constabulary’s favour. Whatever had happened to the boy over the past few days, it would be speculated about until it was strangled into absurdity. Actual police work would be a nightmare and the truth would grow more obscure as the days wore on. If they could not get the words direct from Arthur’s mouth, they might be lost altogether to the annals of history and conspiracy.

 Much, Phryne reflected with a little irony, like the story of Lady Cavanaugh herself.  

 The sun was pouring in through the windows, however, as though to mark the charge of time, and there seemed little but to break and reconvene when the whole twilight atmosphere of the affair had been seared by its bright beams into a more manageable reality. They ought to have learned by that point, of course, that the entire matter of reality was spinning wildly beyond expectations.

 No sooner had the room settled into the impasse, when a commotion awoke violently in the corridor outside, voices rising from incivility to outright hostility in a few moments. Jack blinked, but it was Phryne who recognised the peculiarity of the source within an instant. She pressed passed him and through the door with a stride that was reserved for dealing with only one person in the world.

 “Aunt P?” she called out as she emerged amongst the white coats and caps, Jack in tow and the others following in similar curiosity. The older woman, however, was much too busy trying to persuade the cause of the ruckus that making a scene was hardly in his favour.

 Chester Willis, imposing and clearly upset, was having none of it, however, as he towered over the man Phryne knew to be Mr Johns. The pair were caught up in an exchange of bitter aggression, and it was not long before concern turned to intervention and Phryne was running.

 “Keep your delinquent son away from my boy, Willis!” cried Mr Johns, days of grief that Phryne well understood marked across his face. “Hasn’t he done enough?!”

 “Frederick is as much a victim of this situation as Arthur!” Chester yelled back.

 “And yet here he stands while my son can’t even speak!”

 “Hey!” Jack finally called out, forcing himself between the men as it looked like it might come to blows.

 “You’ve got a lot of nerve bringing him here like this, as though he has the right after what he dragged Arthur into – “

 “He didn’t drag – “

 “Stop it, both of you!” Jack interjected, and Phryne instinctually turned to poor Frederick, standing limply next to Aunt Prudence as though he might die on the spot, white through from head to toe. She took a hold of his forearm with a reassuring squeeze.

 “I think you had better go home – “

 “Not until my son has seen his friend,“ Chester pressed.

 “His friend?” Johns saw red, “This is how he treats his friends is it?!”

 “He doesn’t mean any harm, Mr Johns, I assure you,” Prudence foolishly attempted a defence, but received only the tail end of the man’s ire.

 “That’s just it though, isn’t it?” Johns hissed, “He didn’t think beyond what he wanted all those nights ago, and now my boy is in the hospital and another one is dead! And you’re all coddling around him to make sure that dear Frederick isn’t put out!”

 “He had nothing to do with – !“

 “He was the last one on the scene! Who else could have – “

 Chester Willis at once shoved forward again at the implication, swinging wide only to meet Jack’s immediate prevention. Aunt Prudence was too horrified by the statement to contain herself any longer. The stress of a million little pressures snapped within her, “Stop it! Stop! He just wants to see Arthur!”

 Phryne reacted almost instantly, taking a firm hold of her aunt’s shoulder and turning her away at once, while Jack managed the temper of both father’s with Hugh coming in to pull Willis clear of the fray. Frederick stood stupefied, and Phryne knew that nothing would do him as much good right now as getting away from the whole debacle. She moved at once towards the doors, pressing the boy and her aunt on by the elbow.

 “He just wants to see Arthur,” Prudence muttered again, distraught as the quiver in her voice devastated her niece completely.

 “I know, Aunt P,” she answered softly, “I know.”

 ***

 “I’ve given her a tonic for her nerves,” Mac confirmed as she stepped into Aunt Prudence’s drawing room, closing the door behind her and placing her hands squarely in her pockets, “she’s resting now.” Her voice sounded as weary as Phryne felt, even as she had extracted herself from the effects of her aunt’s emotions to manage the fallout of her own.  

 “Thank you,” she offered softly, her lips shrugging into a genuine gratitude, “I’m afraid she’s taking the whole thing entirely to heart.” She stepped away from the window, taking in an abiding breath and releasing it into a deep sigh, “I can’t really blame her – it is the cruelest trick of fate that he should be called ‘Arthur’.”  

 Mac’s sympathy was meted out in silence, alongside her more pointed concern, “It’s one of a few upsetting coincidences.”

 Phryne’s eyes fixed on her friend, and she knew inherently that this was a question more than an observation. “I’m fine, Mac, honestly.”

 “I don’t think that you are,” she refused.    

 “I’m managing,” she clarified, “if I fell to pieces over every missing child, I’m sure I’d be catatonic.”

 Mac didn’t argue, looking to the floor and knowing to pick her battles. “Where’s Frederick?” she opted for the more easily answered.

 Phryne did not miss the transition, and she frowned with dissatisfaction at the entire affair, “His father took him home.”

 There, at least, was something they could agree on.

 Mac’s lip curled slightly in dislike, “If I were Fred,  I’m not sure I’d want him for me, or against.”

 “I definitely don’t have as many scruples,” Phryne tossed aside at once, “the man is odious, no matter what side he’s on.” It earned a chuckle, a relief in the circumstances, and sufficient to set aside the charge of the room. Phryne smiled in response and stepped up to the doctor to examine the damage, “And how are you?”

 “Oh, you know me,” Mac responded tilting her head slightly to allow the inspection, and touching two fingers to the little gauze patch, “I have a hard head – I’ve had to adapt for survival.”

 Phryne grinned, “I’m sorry we dragged you into the fray.”        

 Mac looked alarmed at once, “Don’t you dare – if you didn’t, I’d have to lie awake at night worrying, and there are far better things to lose sleep over.”  

 The moment descended on them and the weight of the unspoken pressed itself in from all sides as though it had been waiting behind the emerald drapes. Phryne opened her mouth to ask, but Mac quickly put a stop to it, “I’m tired Phryne, and so are you – it can wait. Arthur is safe now, it can wait.”

 It was never the right answer for Phryne’s relentless desire to know, the instinct that had driven so many of her passionate pursuits, and her investigating streak particularly, but she would accept it because she couldn’t bring herself to demand more of a friend who had already given her so much.

 “All right,” she acquiesced.

 “Good,” Mac seemed only slightly suspicious, “now I’m going home – and so should you.”  

 ***

 Phryne had not followed suit immediately; even as Mac had picked up her hat and departed, the lady detective had taken the time to make sure that Mrs Lovell had settled her aunt well enough, and leave strict instructions that she was to telephone Wardlow first thing in the morning. Even so, it seemed beyond belief that the sun might be dipping into late afternoon as she finally approached the Hispano, and she inwardly questioned whether or not she should be driving at all. Her limbs bore that heavy, lulled feeling so often present in the wake of adrenaline and sleep deprivation, and her mind had begun to feel sluggish as she barely registered the decisive clicking of her heels on the outside stairs. The thought of a hot bath and bed was sufficient, then, to switch her off to the world, and prevent the wave of questions which threatened to break the moment there was room for it.

 It was for that reason that she did not recognise Josephine Randall until the woman was nigh on upon her.

 “You’ve seen her,” she pressed immediately, almost belligerently, and Phryne let out a curse so distinct she was surprised it did not instantly arouse Aunt P from upstairs. “I told you,” she seemed greatly distressed, “warned you.”

 “Mrs Randall, I’ve little time for this,” Phryne was not in the mood, “and I’ll thank you never to trespass on my aunt’s property again.” How she had followed them in the first place beggared belief. “If you have something to tell the police – ”

 “You don’t know what you’ve done,” the old woman didn’t listen, “it’s just like the first time – he came back from the islands without a care in the world, even when other’s told him what was at stake. He had to go ahead in his arrogance.”

 Phryne had tried desperately not to rise to it, even opening her car door to avoid the hook, but Mrs Randall had played her hand remarkably well. “What are you talking about?” she stopped.

 The woman seemed suddenly cowed, however, now that she’d said what had clearly rested on her for some years, and the same shake Phryne had seen at Mountbatten returned to her frame with a vengeance, “Polynesia. When the expedition returned, everyone could feel the cloud it brought down on the house. He wouldn’t listen… “

 “Wouldn’t listen to what?” Phryne pressed, smelling smoke in the woman’s fire, despite the babbling, and her eyes flashed a clear blue in utter impatience.

The hesitation turned to fear at the sight of that flash, however, and recognition seemed to blossom on the woman’s face. “… No, I didn’t –” She clapped her hands over her mouth as her fear turned to panic, “I didn’t mean – Oh God, it’s too late. It’s too late.”

“If you know something, and you’re keeping it -“

 “Evil! I told you there was evil in that house, and you wouldn’t listen either!”

 It was too much.

 “Mrs Randall,” Phryne advanced on her, unsettling her agitated stance and forcing her to step back, “unless you have something of substance to add, something which will help us actually uncover what happened to that boy, I suggest you step away immediately, or risk my doing something one of us will sincerely regret.”

 It was enough to frighten her into a whimper, and into shielding herself from Phryne’s aggression, and the detective chastised herself for the action almost immediately. She forced her impatience to heel and, after a moment, tried to calm the situation, “I’m sorry, Josephine, it’s been a long night.”

 “It’s too late,” she shook her head with a hoarse whisper, “I’m too late.”

 “Too late for what?” Phryne tried.

 Josephine stared at her with tortured pain etched all across her face, “I can already see her in your eyes.”  

 ***

 Jack’s office seemed desolate as darkness compelled him to switch on his desk lamp, and he felt a creeping fear that the administration of Arthur’s return would not allow him to get the sleep he so sorely needed. It was not that he resented the work, but rather the limitations of his own body in light of the multitude of questions that had now exploded through this case. It was a strange phenomenon, to go so quickly from having no leads at all, to having a myriad. He knew, however, that they would be of no use to him if he did not give his mind a chance to rest. He collapsed back into his chair with a heavy sigh and stretched the aching muscles in his neck.

 Without fail, the gloom drew him back to the Hall, sinister in his memory now as he recovered the sight and sound of Arthur, cowering from his touch against the bedroom wall.

 A steady anger had begun to boil in his gut at the thought, connected to the frustration of having no idea what had done this to him, how he’d found his way there, where he had been for the last few days, and he may well have stewed in it, had it not been for the steadying presence arriving at his door.

 “You look quite dashing, exhausted in the lamplight,” she teased.

 It washed over him like a balm, and his smile was instantaneous, “You should be at home, in bed.”

 “Promises, promises,” she purred.

 He eyed her from beneath the fingers that worked at the bridge of his nose, “What are you doing here?”

 “You didn’t honestly think I’d leave you here to while away the lonely hours by yourself, did you?” she stepped into the room, her gait bearing the laziness of a long day, stopping to rest her fingertips on the edge of his desk. He simply waited. “I ran into an old friend at Aunt Prudence’s,” she confessed, “Josephine Randall.”

 “What?” he sat forward, his brow furrowing in query.

 “Precisely what I thought,” she answered, “evidently our little adventure has not gone unnoticed; she was full of all kinds of condemnation.”

 “Condemnation of what? From my point of view, we found missing child,” he cut, always less charitable towards nonsense when he was tired, and clearly having fielded a little criticism from his superiors.

 There was a pause as she considered that for a moment, the gravity of her melancholy side reaching out from her, “Is that what we did?”

 Jack met her gaze over the desk, the lamplight casting faint shadows across her features that exaggerated the facts, which neither had yet addressed to anybody. “Is it?” he simply threw back, opening once more the first thing he could remember saying to her after the daze of it all.

 ‘What on earth are you doing?’

He wasn’t yet ready to confront the plummeting he had felt at the sight of her stepping, almost gliding towards the increasingly lethal window. The sheer determination on her face had frightened him on a viscerally deep level.

 Phryne measured him closely, the gauntlet lying between them and waiting to see who would answer first, expose themselves to the scrutiny of the other. It had all been fun and games when the thought of the unexplained had been a tingle in the spine, rather than a night of lost memories. The truth was that to speak first was to risk admitting credulity in the face of what had previously been too ridiculous for words, an odd sort of macabre almost amusement. It would take the kind of courage that none had summoned – not Mac, not Reginald, not Hugh. It was a peculiar test then, for lovers growing in intimacy and a new kind of trust, which went beyond dangerous situations and mysteries of the less… mysterious kind.

 Here they risked the most private of reputations: sanity before the world, or more specifically before each other.

 “I barely remember a thing,” Jack admitted, and the forthrightness of his risking ridiculousness drew a breath from Phryne, “Just the laughter, the stairs, an attacker, and Arthur.”    

 Phryne swallowed, and then she hesitated.

 For all his bravery, Jack’s story was hardly an exposure; his recollection contained nothing of growling in closets and women at windows. The breath she had drawn halted once more, and she ran from the admission, looking to the floor, “Any idea who he was? Your attacker?”

 Jack felt the departure, but was unsure what it meant – for them or for the look he’d seen in her eyes before he had pulled her back from the edge. His exhaustion stopped him from pressing it, “No idea – he was large, strong. I didn’t get a clear look at him, I don’t think.”

 When Phryne looked back at him, it was with both relief and the uncomfortable sticking feeling that she had misled him. After so many months of freedom from any hiddenness between them, it felt awful, wrong. She wanted at once to touch him and eradicate the barrier, but she could not bring herself to do it. “There’s clearly someone else who has access to the property, in honesty I’ve been finding myself rather curious about the Baron’s remaining family.”

 “Yes,” Jack agreed, standing up and coming around to her. “After last night, though, I’m not sure they’ll be very enthusiastic about helping us.”    

 “I’m sure they’ll have no choice,” Phryne argued back with a slight edge, clearly growing defensive against the suggestion that their operation had been anything other than fruitful, “you are the police after all.”

 Jack smiled, brushing her hair behind one ear, “Go home, Phryne. Get some sleep.”

 “And what about you?” she tilted into the touch.

 “I’ll be close behind, I promise.”

 It was impossible to hide anything from those eyes, Phryne knew – the same ones that had worn away at her with gentle pleading for a year before she had been utterly undone by them. The fact that he didn’t take her into his arms now, didn’t kiss her the way they seemed compelled to every moment they were near made her feel the growing distance, and her heart clawed at it and begged her to tell him what had happened, to confide in him the truth – at least what she knew of it. Her lips drifted open as though they might do it without her permission, but the memory of curls and silver skin shut them at once, the straining memory of her own desperate curiosity sounding more absurd by the second.

 Again she ran from the exposure, this time with humour.

 “I’ll be sure to get Mr Butler to leave out your slippers,” she quipped, and then she moved to walk passed him, each touch becoming abrasive with the secret and the thought of closeness feeling more like betrayal.

 She placed a hand on his chest as she made for the door. She did not get far.

 Without a further word, Jack set aside all functionality, took a hold of her wrist, and pulled her back around and into him, wrapping her into a hug which mirrored the one that had saved her so fiercely from that morning’s fall. Where previously his arms had been all fear, however, they were now full of a desperate appreciation, and Phryne felt his intent through her very centre as he buried his face in her hair and pressed an urgent kiss to her temple to reassure her that he was there regardless. It forced all anxiety from her with a huff of breath she had seemingly been holding until that moment, and she gripped at him in an admission of need she would never expose to anyone else. His kiss found her out in acknowledgment of even that vulnerability, tender and searching at once as the tension of the day’s coping buckled under his need to have her close and safe, and covered. The very warmth of his mouth seemed to question if she was all right. After a moment, they simply stood, their foreheads pressed together and Phryne holding tightly to his shirtfront as their breaths came in short rushes, colliding erratically.

 “Take me home,” she finally murmured to him.

 Paperwork be damned.    

[lysitheaioandeuropa]

All the vday questions ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

happy vday sis!!!!!

1: Do you have a crush at the moment?- eh, kind of. lmao

2: Have you ever been deeply in love?- 50005% yes. god that can do shit to your heart bro

3: Longest relationship you’ve ever been in?- 2 years seems to be my typical expiration date

4: Have you ever changed for someone?- i have changed something for someone, yes

5: How is your relationship with your ex?- nonexistent lmfao

6: Have you ever been cheated on?- not that i know of

7: Have you ever cheated?- unfortunately

8: Would you date someone who’s well known for cheating?- probably not

9: What’s the most important part of a relationship?- everything that comes to mind are all equally important

10: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings?- oh it rly depends if the mood strikes or what. i’m usually not into relationships at all and when i get into them they come at me so fucking left field and next thing i know i’m planning a future and shit. it’s literally only happened a couple of times

11: When you are dating someone do you believe in going on “breaks”?- i believe in needing space and if someone says they need it then maybe they should be warranted that much.

12: How many people have you ever hooked up with?- it’s 2k18 and you’re really still asking for a body count

13: What’s one thing you regret saying/doing in a previous relationship?- i regret not being completely honest about my wants/needs

14: What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start having sex?- “kids” shouldn’t be having sex, lol. but idk, whatever floats their boat. 16?

15: Do you believe in the phrase “age is just a number”?- if it’s likelegal and within reason, yes. and rly does depend on the dynamic considering that a lot of the time it isn’t genuine and is a power move.

16: Do you believe in “love at first sight”?- maybe not love, but the way my heart did summersaults when she first smiled at me? incredible.

17: Do you believe it’s possible to fall in love on the internet?- been there done that, yes. it works out

18: What do you consider a deal breaker?- idk, i’m pretty open minded. but snooping is definitely one lmao

19: How do you know it’s time to end a relationship?- i don’t.

20: Are you currently in a relationship?- is that what they call it nowadays?

21: Do you think people who have dated can stay friends?- i think there is room for attempt. but it is difficult to work out

22: Do you think people should date their friends?- if they grow genuine feelings for one another, of course

23: How many relationships have you had?- 4?

24: Do you think love can last forever?- i do not fucking know bro, i doubt that shit daily like i wonder how people rly be out here in love for 50 years

25: Do you believe love can conquer all things?- nah fam, wtf

26: Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of?- nope

27: If you could go back in time and give yourself one piece of advice about dating what would it be?- stop forcing shit, don’t date boys you just are not that into, and when you are into one really sit down and think about that bc it’s not normal to think they’d be perfect if only they were a woman

28: Do you think long distance relationships can work?- yes

29: What do you notice first about another person?- physical appearance usually. first think i noticed about her was her height, then her face, then her smile

30: Are you straight, bi, gay or pansexual?- i think pan is most accurate; i can be physically attracted to just about anyone, and not just “two genders” as bi entails. i do have a muuuch stronger leaning toward women though, so i just say i’m gay it rly covers all bases

31: Would it bother you if your partner suffered from any mental illness?- i don’t think it would and i think/know i could be understanding and supportive. however, i can see how it can take a toll on someone normal, so i can’t imagine on myself, with everything i already have as well. we’d both need to have very healthy coping skills and be getting help and working/communicating with one another, especially if i’m already doing all of the above, they certainly should as well

32: Have you ever been in an abusive relationship?- yes and it sucked. thank GOD it was a bit short lived. he is hands down my worst, slimiest ex and just no i would never again

33: Do you want to get married one day?- i don’t fucking know

34: What do you think about getting your partner’s name tattooed?- fuck no

35: Could you be in a relationship without sex?- most likely cannot, but it depends on me, my sex drive is all over the place but has been more steady recently

36: Are you still a virgin?- nah

37: What’s more important: Looks or personality?- both are, but i might go with personality

38: Do you enjoy love films?- no i don’t lol horror all the way

39: Have you ever given anyone/received roses?- not roses, but other flowers yes

40: Have you ever had a valentine?- this year i had two lmao (one of them was my roommate before y'all wanna assume i’m hoein’ since that’s how y'all are)

41: What’s your imagination of a “perfect date”?- we’re sitting in a blanket, on a rooftop, with the view of the space needle and mountains and cityscape in front of us. fleetwood mac is playing in the background and we’re singing along. i’m laying in her lap, she’s playing with my hair and we’re holding hands. we’re alone, and talking about our future, and our dream house, and things to do together when we’re back home. maybe sandy is with us, considering she’s so well behaved. we’re telling each other stories we haven’t shared with one another yet, and every now and again we share deep and lingering kisses. she’s looking at me like i am literally the only person on earth and there is so much love in her eyes and it is 1000% mutual. her smile and her laughter alone bring me joy. i tell her how much i love her, how she means the entire world to me, and she tells me the same. we stay on the rooftop and watch the sunset over the city and my heart is just so, so, so full. i know she’s right next to me, and we can’t get any closer, but something inside still makes me miss her and yearn for her. we share one last kiss before we leave the seclusion of the rooftop, and walk our way back to our room, taking in more of the sights. we have a glass of wine together, or coffee (since that’s our thing), and we’re together freely, without side glances or judgement on either of us. she’s the light of my life; we’re happy.

42: Have you ever read “Romeo & Juliet”?- more than once

43: What’s more important: Your partner or your friends?- depends really, i think you need balance

44: Would you consider yourself “romantic”?- idk about romantic but i can be nice? lol

45: Could you imagine to date one of your current friends?- i would date this one girl in a heartbeat LMAO, but just bc she is dead ass a 10/10. besides that fuck no all my friends are way too fucking emotional and just not my type and just no. the guys aren’t much of a step up

46: Have you ever been “friendzoned”?- lmao, in middle school but i wasn’t too hurt by it, they were cool to be friends with. (if i were a nigga i feel like this answer would be far from this)

47: Which “famous couple” is your favorite?- i used to stan johnny and winona. besides that i really don’t care enough

48: What’s your favorite love song?- 505. lmao idk if that even counts. dreams by fleetwood mac (even tho it is kinda a break up song but i love it)

49: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?- so i have been told

50: If you’re single, why do you think you are?51: Would you rather date someone who’s rich but a douchebag or someone who’s poor but a nice guy?- there are levels to this shit, how much of a douche bag is he really? does he just neglect me but i have access to all the money? bc i would do that.

52: Are you good at giving other people advices regarding dating/ relationships?- no considering my advice is always “dump him. drop them. leave her” lmao. it has gotten me into trouble a number of times

53: Are you jealous of couples when you’re single?- my niggaaaaa, FAR from it lmao. i really fucking THRIVE when i’m alone, but even relationship me looks at other couples like “tsk tsk”

54: How important is it to make a relationship official (p.e. on facebook)?- on social media, not really. though i would be skeptical of someone who goes out of their way to deliberately not post their partner

55: Would you consider yourself “clingy”, “overly attached” or “jealous”?- i can be, but i do chose to hardly ever act on it. shit will irk me and i will know it is irrational or dumb or makes no sense so i’ll try to dismiss it myself, mostly for fear of being called crazy for having and displaying the emotions i’m going through but it is what it is

56: Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship?- i have. not malintentionally

57: Do you think it’s silly to consider suicide because of a broken heart?- no, not at all. all things considered if someone already has mental health issues a bad breakup can trigger a relapse in depression - etc. is it rational and a good thing? fuck no. but i wouldn’t take it as lightly as to call it silly and dismiss it. get yourself or the other person help.

58: Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship?- independent as fuck but not tryna step on my partner’s toes either. i think we both have to be dominant. maybe me a bit more. (also, i am soooo talking in regards to personalities and not sex for you weirdos out there).

59: Have you ever forgotten important dates like your partner’s birthday or your anniversary?- i have not, i can still give you exact dates from years ago

60: What’s your opinion on open relationships?- none of my business if it floats your boat

61: Who’s more important: Your partner or your family?- i am by far the least family oriented person in existence so, my partner.

62: How do you define “cheating”?- anything your partner doesn’t want you doing;any boundaries you wouldn’t want crossed

63: Is watching porn while being in a relationship inappropriate?- no. maybe i bit unexpected if anything if you guys live together and can have sex/try new things on a daily basis

64: Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated?- it’s whatever. i always do something but i’m not wild about it like some other people

65: Would you consider yourself a “cuddler”?- big time. i cuddle sandy 25/8