#<- already has something that sounds a bit too much like in-sys dating with some of the headmates going on

[linabirb]

do you sometimes go through your posts on your old blog and see something that suddenly makes SO MUCH SENSE now that you know you're a system

[angryschnauzer]

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 4

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Story Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing

Wordcount: 2689

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,

  I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 4

The farmers market was busy, the sunshine and good weather always bringing people out to enjoy what the town had to offer, and as the summer approached the amount of tourists increased too. From the moment Sy had set up there had been a steady stream of customers stopping by his stand, but at every given chance he would be looking around, trying to find one particular face in the crowds. 

It was one such moment when he was looking away did someone clear their throat, to which he was a little startled by as he turned and spotted an older man in his late 60s standing beside his stand holding a jar of honey;

“You make this?”

He spoke with a strong Italian accent.

“I do Sir. Would you like to try it?”

“And the bees, they are local, yes?”

“Yes Sir, the hives are on the meadow as you head West out of town”

“Ah, so not far, hmmn”

The older man held the jar up to the light, watching as the amber liquid glinted in the sunlight. Sy bit back his smile, he knew exactly who this was, although had never met in person before as he turned back to him;

“Is it good to cook with?”

“It would be perfect for the dip to go with the churros. Though a Jalapeno would work better with this rather than the red chilli’s you already use”

There was a moment of quiet, before the older man finally smiled and held his hand out;

“Antonio Cosentino”

“Lucas Syverson”

“Good to meet you Mr Syverson. I saw you in my restaurant last night with your lovely lady”

Sy smiled at the mention of you;

“Yeah, she’s great. She actually suggested i approach you about the honey”

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders” he leant forwards; “And a good pair of burrata… if i was 30 years younger you’d have some competition i tell you that” 

He held his hands out in front of him in a cupping motion and Sy did his best not to laugh too much at the old Italian commenting about your breasts and likening them to the shape of balls of fresh mozzarella cheese. Instead Sy diplomatically changed the conversation;

“I tell you what Mr Cosentino, take that jar - it's on me - put it on the menu tonight and i’ll swing by on Monday for an espresso, you can tell me what you think”

Antonio held out his hand and gave Sy’s a firm shake;

“You have a deal… and you said espresso without the ‘x’ so you already have gone up in my book”

“I spent a couple of months in Italy on special assignment with the Pozzuolo del Friuli after my last tour of Iraq, you only say it with an x once when you are with them”

“Bosnia?”

Sy shook his head;

“Before my time with them. Assisted with peacekeeping in Lebanon”

Antonio nodded solemnly;

“You’re a good man” he held up the honey; “Grazie. 11 o’clock on Monday?”

“Sounds good”

As Sy watched the old man walk away he smiled but it was bittersweet. His time with the Italian’s had been his last in the forces, and the sights he’d seen in Lebanon had made him question a lot of things, but had been a deciding factor in leaving the Army. He took a deep breath and looked around the market, taking in the bustling crowds and happy faces. He glanced up to the higher walkway that surrounded the market place and saw a sight that lifted his mood immediately; you.

-

You were surprised at how busy downtown was, but then it was also approaching lunchtime so there was the lunch crowd out as well as locals doing their shopping and people just enjoying the sunshine.

After sleeping in late you did some chores before Tamara swung by to drop the books off she’d borrowed and had offered you a ride into town, but you’d declined as a walk in the sunshine was just what the doctor ordered after the indulgences of dinner the previous evening.

Once you’d stopped at the post office and mailed the original manuscripts for the SATS test papers you’d finalised, you just had a couple more errands to run before you made a trip to the market. It wasn’t that you were nervous about seeing Sy, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on much once you’d seen him, so you got as much done as possible before that eventuality. As you came out of the post office you recognised a tall burly figure crossing the road towards you, a very familiar dog on the end of a leash trotting alongside him. For a moment you stood and watched as Sheriff Marshall and Akia approached, noting how the dog was as obedient for him as she was for Sy. He passed you without noticing, but Akia started to drop behind, turning to look back at you;

“C’mon girl” Walter tugged gently on the leash but instead the dog just planted her butt on the sidewalk, looking back at you. The hulking Sheriff finally turned and looked up to where Akia was staring, before a moment of recognition. Looking back down at the dog he spoke;

“Do you want to go and say hello?”

Akia stood and wagged her tail, to which he let her trot along the sidewalk to where you were standing;

“Hi”

“Morning Sheriff”

He held his hand out to you;

“I guess as my cousin is dating you, you could call me Walter”

Shaking his hand you smiled at the normally grumpy Sheriff, before Akia let out a quiet ‘wuff’ and you moved your attention to her;

“Have you been a good girl?”

The big dog got all wriggly like a puppy before laying on the pavement and showing you her belly, which you obliged and gave her a quick tummy rub;

“You big softie” standing you smiled at Walter; “So Sy said we’re dating?”

Walter nodded, before gesturing to say he was going to continue walking which you nodded in agreement too, Akia moving and falling into step between you;

“He called me after your date last night, he was so happy” he paused; “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s been a while since he let anyone this close, even longer since he admitted his feelings to me”

You nodded;

“I really like him too, I just want to take things slow at first, you know?”

Walter nodded, as he did in fact know. You’d made a point when you first moved to the town to make an appointment with him and give him details of the restraining order, and he had quietly taken in the information you’d given him. He’d assured you it was a safe, tight knit community, and would make sure your new identity was kept private.

As you turned the corner and walked alongside the railings you could look over the market, spotting Sy’s yellow sunshade immediately. He gave you a wave and smiled before turning his attention back to his customer, Walter clearing his throat;

“Just… be honest with him. I know you don’t have to tell him anything, but…”

“I know. He’s my first relationship since. When the time comes i’ll tell him”

“Thank you” Walter said quietly.

As you approached Sy’s stand Akia picked up his scent and started to strain on the leash, excited to see him again. Once it was safe and there was a clear light of sight, Walter let the leash drop and you watched as the big dog ran to the stand and shuffled under the table, sitting on her haunches as she almost vibrated with excitement whilst Sy handed the customer their change. He turned to her and smiled;

“Have you been a good girl?”

“Wuff”

“Did you chase racoons at Uncle Walters house?”

The response was a whine, to which Akia was greeted with an enthusiastic face rub as Sy called her a good girl and gave her rump a couple of friendly pats with the palm of his hand. Your mind focused on that, how he was gentle but firm, and you wondered how the palm of his hand would feel doing that against your own ass.

“If you ask him nicely he will”

You hadn’t even realised Walter had moved in close until he’d whispered in your ear, but you felt the heat rise to your face immediately;

“I didn’t say that out loud did I?”

“You didn’t need to. I could see your mind working and where your gaze was trained”

You smiled;

“You should be a detective”

“I was. Much prefer this” he grinned at you, before turning to Sy and checking in with him briefly until a local came up to him and started to draw him into a conversation about nuisance speeders on the North road out of town.

“There’s my girl”

Turning to Sy, you were a little taken back by his public show of affection, but didn’t shy away from it. Resting your hands on his chest you smiled as he pressed his lips to yours. His kiss was warm and welcoming, and held just a little promise of more had it not for standing somewhere incredibly public.

“Come sit in the shade with me”

He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling out a second camping chair for you. He delved into a cooler and pulled out three bottles of water and a metal bowl, filling the bowl for Akia before handing you a bottle.

“Thanks. How’s it gone this morning?”

“Busy. Lots of weekenders from out of state”

Just at that moment more customers turned up, and you watched from the shade as Sy worked his sales magic, their purchase list soon growing;

“... and they’re the bath fizzers, simply run a hot bath and pop one in. The honey helps moisturise and the locally grown lavender helps relaxation”

The tourist nodded;

“Is the lavender local? I don’t like that artificially scented stuff”

“Grown right here in town by the lovely lady in the shade”

You looked up and waved, and that seemed to reassure all of the customer’s thoughts on the product, who happily nodded and asked for three. Once they’d left Sy turned to you and pulled a small paper bag out from one of the storage totes he carried stock in to the market;

“For you”

Taking the bag from him you peered inside and saw there were a pair of bath fizzers in the bag;

“Oh, thanks”

You realised your reply hadn’t been as enthusiastic as he was probably expecting, looking up just as a customer arrived but you didn’t fail to miss the slight look of disappointment on his face. For a moment you weren’t sure what to do or say, but as the customer left you stood next to Sy;

“Thank you, really. They smell amazing… would they work in a shower?” Sy blinked a couple of times, trying to process his emotions before you continued; “I don’t have a bath”

“Oh. OH”

“I’m not disappointed Sy, i really do like them, they smell absolutely amazing”

He let out a deep breath;

“But without a bath… yeah, I get that. Sorry, I didn't mean to get pouty” he smiled at you.

“Don’t apologise, please. I should have explained”

For a moment you both just stood there, the bag of bath fizzers awkwardly between you before you set it down;

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat a horse”

You laughed;

“How about some tacos instead? I passed a stand as we walked in”

“That sounds good”

Ten minutes later you’d returned from the authentic Mexican food truck with two take out dishes of their best tacos, sliding in behind the table at Sy’s stand and handing him a box. As the stand was quiet you both took a seat, eating in silence before you took a rest between your 2nd and 3rd tacos.

“Everything alright?”

You nodded and rubbed your stomach;

“They’re really filling, just taking a break”

Although he didn’t have to, Sy sat back and paused his eating;

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“You can tell me to fuck off if it’s personal, but I kinda thought all girls loved baths? Like if you remodel a chick’s place the first thing they do is install a fuck off enormous tub”

“Well, it is personal but i’ll tell you the short version; I was in a car accident a few years ago where the car ended up going into a river in the middle of winter. I now can’t cope with being surrounded by cold water… and baths get cold no matter how hot you run them”

Sy nodded thoughtfully;

“I understand” he paused; “If there was a way to guarantee the water stays hot no matter how long you were in the water, would you consider it?”

It was your turn to pause and consider what he was saying;

“Possibly. I never really looked into it. I just know i didn’t want to be surrounded by cold water and i was super happy with my walk in steam shower”

“Now that does sound nice” Sy agreed 

In a moment of bravado you lowered your voice;

“I look forward to showing you how nice”

It was Sy’s turn to blush, the moment interrupted by a customer. You settled back in your chair when a furry snout rested itself on your lap, the drool from Akia’s mouth soon seeping through your dress;

“Yes i got something for you too Akia” before pulling a small plastic bag from the corner of your takeout box; “One burnt end of the brisket”

As the dog happily crunched away on the small morsel you watched Sy, taking in how his ass looked in jeans, how the fabric clung to his thighs. No flannel shirt in the heat, instead he wore a red t-shirt, the fabric taut across his wide shoulders.Your mind wandered to how he’d pushed one of those meaty thighs between your own as you’d kissed on your porch, and the thought of him doing that to you without any clothing barriers between you, in your shower no less, was something you were more than happy to let your mind drift off to.

-

As the afternoon grew late and the flow of customers waned, Sy sat next to you again and looked around;

“Thanks for the company today, sometimes these things can get a bit boring without anyone to talk to apart from Akia”

“It was fun. You’re a good salesman, I think you could convince anyone to buy your stuff”

Sy laughed;

“I’m just a good negotiator”

Soon it was time to pack up, the market coming to an end. You happily stayed to help as it wasn’t like you had anything other than a book waiting for you at home, and babysitting Akia as Sy went to get his truck. Once everything had been loaded he opened the passenger door and watched as you easily climbed up in your sneakers and shorts.

When he reached your place he turned to you;

“So, still on for dinner at my place tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good. What time do you want me?”

He looked you up and down, a smug grin on his face;

“Oh baby, i want you all the time”

“Sy!” you laughed

“Come over about four, or i can pick you up”

“It’s fine, i’ll walk across the meadow”

You leaned across the centre console of the truck and let him draw you into a deep kiss, which neither of you were in a hurry to finish until a soft whine came from the back seat and you could hear Akia’s stomach grumble;

“I’ll let you go home and feed Akia”

Sy pulled you back for one final kiss before letting you go. He watched as you crossed your yard and let yourself in, making sure you were safe inside before he left. Old protective habits die hard.

________________

Authors Note:

When the readers breasts are referred to as similar to burrata, it is referring to the size and shape, not the colour. I keep my reader race neutral so anyone can enjoy reading the story.

Chapter 5 >>>

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Five

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.

While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.

Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.

Chapter 5

Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.

Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.

Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”

His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”

“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”

Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”

Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”

“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”

Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.

"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!

"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.

"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.

Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.

The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.

"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."

"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.

Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"

"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.

She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.

"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”

Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!

"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.

"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"

Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.

Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."

This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.

Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.

"Oh shit!"

°°°

A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.

Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.

"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.

"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"And you are...?"

Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."

Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.

Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.

"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."

"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."

"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"

Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.

"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.

Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“

Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."

"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.

"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.

“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.

A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”

Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.

°°°

“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.

"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."

"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."

Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."

Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."

"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"

"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."

The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"

What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.

"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.

°°°

He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.

“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”

Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.

“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”

Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”

If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.

°°°

Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!  

“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.

With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”

“No, the charges were dropped.”

Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.

As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."

Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.

"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.

With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."

Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.

With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"

"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.

Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.

Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.

“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.

“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”

Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“

Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.

As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.

He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”

“Tenders and fries.”

Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.

Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.

Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.

Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.

“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”

°°°

There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.

°°°

@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​

[breadcaaat]

part six

Jeongguk x hybrid!reader

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: for the sake of maintaining a similar wordcount, there’s a cliffhanger. most of the next chapter is done tho, so itll be out really soon. also, mentions of rape and allusions to revenge porn

Jeongguk fumbled with the keys to his apartment, buzzed and happy. Reconnecting with Hobi had been like a breath of fresh air, and he could still feel his cheeks stinging from how hard they’d laughed that night. I missed him, he noted softly, and shuffled into his apartment.

The door clicked shut and he toed off his shoes, giggling a bit to himself.

Y/N peeked out from her pile of blankets on the bed, eyes puffy. She was wearing one of his shirts. That’s cute, he thought, and giggled a bit more. “What are you laughin’ about?” she murmured, voice fuzzy with sleep. I missed her, too. She’s so cute, look at her ears… 

“Are you… drunk?”

“Tipsy,” he drawled, voice a little scratchy with how loud he and Hobi had been in their excitement. He tugged off his coat slowly and uncoordinatedly, one arm at a time. His left hand got stuck in the sleeve so he flapped it around until it fell to the ground with a thump. Another giggle. “That’s not a coat rack,” he whispered.

Y/N whistled, amused. “This Hobi guy must’ve done a number on you.”

“Nah, no… we just hung out a bit, not like that. Just tispy!”

“Tispy?”

“Tip...sy.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, patting the bedding next to her to beckon him over. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about, but it can wait until morning. Come sleep.”

“No no, I wanna hear - wait - I gotta, hold on…” he was halfway out of his shirt, one arm out and head stuck, mumbling to himself as he tried to reason his way out of his clothing. 

Y/N watched on in amusement. She made no move to help him, tail curling and uncurling leisurely.

Jeongguk’s head was through his sleeve now, face smushed up against the arm sharing it. “I - ” he gasped, and Y/N giggled, tail lashing a bit more. 

He stilled for a second and sighed. 

“Do you need - ?”

“No, I got it. No help. Don’t worry I’ll, just… mirror!” 

“Mirror?”

He didn’t answer, already tromping over to the bathroom with his arm sticking out like an unruly tree branch.

“Your left sock is slippin’ off,” she murmured.

He made a little beep in question, bending at the torso to try and get a look at it. He looked ridiculous. Like a lanky, misshapen safari animal, lost in the grasslands. Her giggling turned into a full laugh.

He whipped around to look at her, a teasing and confrontational comment ready to fire on the tip of his tongue, but the sudden turbulence messed up his balance and dropped him on his ass with a loud whump! Y/N continued to cackle, teary at the eyes and still useless.

“Where am I?!” he yelled, and it brought on another round of laughter that’d probably land a noise complaint on his doorstep in the morning. 

“Let me - ” she giggled, eyes crinkled and watery, “ - let me help, Jeongguk.”

“No, I have it under control.”

“You do not, oh my god.” She rolled off the bed and approached him, still giggling. He pouted at her, face squished and hair mussed. She crouched in front of him.

“Let me help,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but nod mutedly. She looks so soft. 

Detangling him was a mess that took a solid five minutes, ten extra when he insisted on changing into his pajamas, but they finally settled.

“Your breath stinks,” she muttered. He didn’t hear her - Jeongguk was the type of drunk to focus on only one thing at a time - and he was kneeled to fluff his pillow. She watched bemusedly as he fussed with it for a solid minute in a half, adjusting the edges and smoothing the pillow case, testing the give with a little prodding, and finally giving it a good once-, twice-, and thrice-over before deeming it properly fluffed. “Good enough?” she asked. He grumbled something. She didn’t bother asking him to repeat himself.

He toppled over, finally, and sighed. Her nose wrinkled and she huffed at him. “What was’at?” he asked, finally.

“I said your breath stinks.”

“Oh. Hm.” He blinked slowly and then sat up suddenly, crawling out from under the sheets. “Hold on - I can - ” 

“God - where are you going now?”

“I’m... brush teeth.” He bumped into the doorframe on the way into the bathroom, snapped at it for being in the way, whacked it, and then yelped in pain and cradled his hand to his chest. “ - Ass.”

“Dork,” she muttered, and gave up on trying to put him to bed.

🐯

“Sungmin-ah? Is that you?”

Said girl looked up from her phone, straightening her posture as she recognized two old acquaintances from high school. “Oh, uh…” She wracked her memory for the girl’s name. The brave red dye job was familiar. “Taehee-unnie?”

Taehee smiled, so Sungmin must’ve got her name right. She had another girl with her, smaller in stature with darker, shorter hair. Feeling lucky, she guessed, “...Heeyoung-unnie?”

“Heeyeon,” she corrected, with a small smile to let her know she was close enough.

“Heeyeon-unnie,” she reaffirmed, and Heeyeon ducked her head.

Taehee immediately launched into her order after that, filling the otherwise empty shop with noise that made it suddenly seem too busy. It was a swift reminder to Sunghyun as to why she hadn’t missed the girl when they graduated.

She talked too much.

Taehee finished their order and Sunghyun half-listened as she continued to babble, moaning about something her boyfriend had done over the weekend. Heeyeon seemed content - or, at least, compliant - with taking a back seat to the conversation. Sunghyun felt a little sorry for her. She also kinda wanted them to leave.

“So,” Taehee purred conspiratorially, and Sunghyun hastily scribbled a note on the order to her dad saying hurry up with this one, please. She turned back around with a polite smile on her face. 

“ - Have there been any cute guys in Sunghyun-ah’s life lately?”

She remembered suddenly that her dad had stepped out to take a smoke earlier, and groaned on the inside. “Not really, unnie.”

“Ah, c’mon! It’s been - like - two years, girl! There’s gotta have been at least one or two, I know it.”

“Nope. Last time I dated seriously was in high school.”

“Oh, that twerp?” She let out a long sigh, like thinking of him exhausted her. It did bring a little smile to Sunghyun’s face. If there was one likeable quality about Taehee it was that she was always first to get up and scare away unwelcome men. When Sunghyun had broken up with her highschool boyfriend and he’d refused to leave her alone afterward, it’d been Taehee and her girl gang that’d scared him away.

“Yeah, that twerp,” she said.

“Alright, no boyfriends. Any hot guys, at least? Sweethearts with nice faces and good bodies - ?”

“ - Yah! You’re being invasive!” Heeyeon swatted lightly at Taehee, giggling a bit. It helped slice the slightly awkward air, and Sunghyun’s face cracked into a smile. In the back, she heard the door open and close as her dad returned.

“Well, yeah, there have been some cute guys. It’s impossible not to know one or two.”

Taehee cupped her face in her hands and wiggled back and forth slightly, trying to be cute. “Can you tell me about one while we wait for our food?” she cooed.

“Alright, uh - ” she glanced around the room, trying to remember a boy in her life. She honestly didn’t get out much. It’s not like she would tell Taehee that, though. “Our delivery boy is kind of cute?” Her dad snickered somewhere behind her and she blushed.

“Why’s it sound like a question? Is he ugly?” Taehee genuinely looked a bit dismayed.

“No, no!” She waved her hands in front of her, a little flustered. “He’s really cute! I had a crush on him when he was first hired but I, I see him more like a little brother now.”

“Ah, is cute not your type? You like bad boys?” Taehee teased, and Heeyeon elbowed her. Behind her, her dad murmured “She better not,” hiding it with the sound of frying eggs. She cringed, wanting nothing more than to let the ground swallow her whole. He must’ve decided he didn’t want to eavesdrop anymore after that - soft music started to play from the radio.

“Uh, no. I just realized it was probably better not to date at work.”

“Hm, that’s fair. Well, what’s his name? I’m gonna look him up on Facebook anyway.”

“I don’t think he has social media, but his name’s Jeongguk.” 

They went stock still, faces incredulous. Sunghyun stared back, puzzled. “What? Something wrong?”

“Only if he’s Jeon Jeongguk.” There was a surprising amount of disdain in Heeyeon’s voice. Conversely, there was a twinkle in Taehee’s eyes, like some juicy scandal was being spilled. It put Sunghyun on the defensive.

“What’s wrong with Jeongguk? He’s never done anything we don’t like besides work too hard.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does,” Heeyeon muttered, and Taehee hid a laugh behind her hand.

Sungyun looked bewildered. The girls exchanged a look, and then leant forward in sync. 

Taehee went first, like she couldn’t contain herself. “Okay, so, you’ve seriously not heard of his whole thing? Like, when did he start working here?”

“A few months ago, why? How do you even know him?”

“We went to college with him, and let me tell you he is not someone you want around,” Heeyeon hissed, but there was an urgent, soft turn to her eyes, like she was concerned for the Gim family. “We were friends and I thought the exact same thing about him - that he was the sweetest person in the world. But he’s manipulative to a fault. It’s all an act.”

Sunghyun shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe - ”

“ - He slept with his professors to pass his classes.”

Sunghyun blinked owlishly.

“Coaches, too,” Taehee interjected.

Sunghyun blinked again.

Heeyeon continued. “He broke up with his girlfriend in freshman year to sleep around - I talked to her once and she said he was doing it even before - ”

“ - It sounded like he slept with men, mostly,” Taehee interrupted, and Heeyeon nodded.

“Yeah. It was mostly men in the videos.”

“The videos?” Sungyun asked. She still looked floored. This is total bullshit, she thought. Taehee had been a notorious gossip through high school and if Heeyeon was still involved with her then she probably was too.

Shaking her head and waving them away, she tried her best to express her disbelief as words escaped her. “Never mind, I just - your lunch is almost ready, and I’m sure you have places to be.”

“You don’t believe us! Aish,” Taehee exclaimed. “I have proof, girl! Hold on, let me find - ouch!” Heeyeon elbowed her again, sending her a sharp look. “What? I’ll just show her a clip.” Heeyeon continued to glare at her cautiously, but Taehee pulled out her phone. 

In the back, Yeongho slid the finished lunches through the window. Normally he would’ve disappeared back into the kitchen unless there was a regular he wanted to strike up conversation with, but the distressed expression on his daughter’s face made him pause. 

“Is everything alright sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah - !”

“ - Are you Mister Gim?” Taehee interrupted. She seemed to have found whatever it was she wanted on her phone.

“That I am,” he replied.

“Do you know about Jeongguk?”

His expression grew just as puzzled as his daughter’s. “Our delivery boy? Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Gim, but he’s not what he looks like,” Heeyeon said, with a little bow of her head.

“Yeah, come look at this.” Taehee looked like she was desperately trying to hold back a smile. The effort just made her look condescending. Heeyeon hissed at her, saying something along the lines of this is too much!

A little befuddled, Yeongho took off his apron and tossed it over his shoulder, puttering out of the kitchen. Sunghyun was nervous for whatever it was Taehee had on her phone. Whatever she was about to reveal about Jeongguk was most likely something she’d rather not know - but there was a little part of her that was morbidly curious. 

Yeongho emerged from the kitchen. “Alright,” he said. “What is this? If it’s something you wouldn’t show your dad, don’t show me.” He winked at Sunghyun then, trying to crack the tension. Humor was his coping mechanism for intensity. It didn’t work. His daughter still looked nervous. 

Heeyeon peeked at the screen and groaned at Taehee that they should just go, but the girl pushed forward and revealed her damning evidence to the dad and daughter behind the counter.

It was not what Sunghyun expected to see.

The site Taehee had pulled up was already one she recognized - it was the one her twerp highschool boyfriend had threatened to post her nudes to when she broke up with him. It was well-known for similar content. 

First thing Taehee showed them were the pictures. Pictures of Jeongguk in compromising positions with men and women in clubs, bars, bedrooms. He was never looking at the camera either; attention purely on his pleasure despite the pictures seemingly being from the point of view of his partners, at least for the most part. A few were taken by bystanders. She explained things further - names, places, times.

Some of them were in school settings; one seemingly through the cracked door of a classroom. In that one, he was bent over the desk of a professor, pants at his ankles, and the professor was bent over him. He wasn’t facing the camera. It made bile rise in her throat.

She didn’t know what to think.

Yeongho was unreadable. 

The girls paid, wished her too-sweet tinny goodbyes, and left. She waved them off until they disappeared around the corner. 

It was barely past lunchtime, and there was something unpleasant swirling in her gut. 

Sungmin couldn’t decide what it was the feeling was. She could, however, recognize it. It was the same feeling you get when suddenly alone in a place with someone, or walking home after the sun’s set. There wasn’t an overt threat, really, just an elusive but potent instinct to be on your guard. It made her shift uncomfortably and realize how sore her feet were.

13:02. 

Beside her, Yeongho sighed and leaned on the counter, playing with the edge of the apron slung over his shoulder. He looked conflicted. Lost in thought.

The shop remained empty save for the two of them.

“...Dad?” she said, after a moment of silence.

It broke him from his reverie, and he stood up with a tight inhale through his nose. Softly, he set the apron down on the window sill to the kitchen.

“I think I need to speak with your mother.”

🐯

Jeongguk arrives later, and he doesn’t even get to start his shift.

He realizes this when he walks in to see a delivery boy already there. Vest on, keys in his hand. He looks at him sympathetically as he passes him through the door, delivery in his arms. Jeongguk holds the door open for him.

The guy thanks him quietly and squeezes past. He looks sorry for him.

That’s not good, Jeongguk thinks.

He gulps and walks in. Past the counter. To the back. Into the breakroom. Mrs. Gim is there, waiting for him. They greet each other quietly.

For a moment, they stand there. Tense and awkward. She’d normally greet him warmly - fussing with his hair and checking whether or not he’d eaten lately - but now she just stood there, arms crossed. (Her finger twitched, though, when she saw a lock of hair that’d fallen into his eyes. He didn’t fix it. Shallowly, he hoped she would.)

He’s already shrinking into himself when she begins speaking. She begins with a sigh.

“We’re letting you go, Jeongguk.”

He nods. He’s not looking at her anymore. Instead, he examines the dirt on his shoes. The sole on the left on is starting to peel off. 

Mrs. Gim waits, expecting a Why? that she thought was inevitable.

It’s definitely something he wants to ask. The word pinches at the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back. Why? He’s asked that question before, to other people he thought he was doing well with. And - so far, he thought he’d been doing pretty well here. Rarely late, quick deliveries, nice to customers. Maybe they aren’t making enough and can’t pay him anymore, but even then… why the other guy over him? He’s nice and all, but Jeongguk knows he performs better.

He didn’t like this feeling. It was familiar, and squirmed in his gut like a handful of worms, or maybe an eel. 

A memory: Jeongguk, stepping into the bus stop by campus with his backpack and a cardboard box. It’s drizzling, and everything’s grey. Springtime. New beginnings.

Jeongguk didn’t want a new beginning. He wanted to go back, before everything went to shit and he lost everything.

He’s got no one now.

And he isn’t even sure why.

He’s not sure now, either.

Back then it’d been exile a cause de the internet, videos and pictures of things he believed private. Rumors stacked on rumors that scattered and fractured and grew in the kaleidoscope that was miscommunication, and he’d lost everything - his friends, his family, his support, his diploma. He never knew who wanted him gone. He only felt the result.

So now, it was that feeling again. That floundering sense of exile, read between the lines and felt with his gut. 

He wanted to ask why. He’d been asking Why? for a year now. But no one would tell him. They either looked away, guilty but sympathetic, or glared at him as if he should already know.

So this time, he didn’t ask. 

Mrs. Gim watched him through this, as he froze up and looked a bit sick, and then the light fluttered out of his eyes as he lived in a memory, and then as the light fluttered back in: hollow and grey like a moth. And then he nodded, not quite looking her in the eye, and left.

It surprised her. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

The walk home was a numb one.

🐯

Hood up, hands in his pockets. He wished he could listen to music but his earbuds had taken an accidental spin through the washer two weeks ago and he hadn’t replaced them. He walked past potholes and old cars, trash bins and stairways tucked in between buildings. Everything was so compact here. Like an anthill. The road could barely fit a car into it. It was so different from home in Busan - at least, the parts where he’d grown up. It’d still been the big city, but there was more room. You felt less anonymous walking down those streets, but here?

He felt like if he didn’t breath loud enough, he’d slip through the cracks and disappear.

It was a tempting thought.

His job at the Gim’s place had been his first real social interaction for months after dropping out of college. He’d had something to do other than rot in his apartment and pick up random jobs - he could talk with and joke around their family, and after awhile, the regulars greeted him too. He’d sucked up the attention like a sponge. It felt like something solid he could hold onto even as he hated his job, hated his apartment, hated his friends for leaving him in this shitty, anonymous, cracked city. It kept him from sinking. It reminded him of home.

So now… what?

He still had his night job at Gloss. Yoongi didn’t have any daytime jobs available, so he couldn’t convert to full time. So he’d need a new job. Even though he had money, now, from the auction robbery. He knew that, technically, he could simply… not work for awhile. But what would he even do in that free time? Nothing, probably. He’d just rot in his apartment. He needed a job; he needed something to do.

The thought made him tired. He kicked at an empty pop can, listening as it clattered away.

Left, down the alley. Down two blocks. Across the bridge. More blocks. Into his apartment.

He contemplates locking the door, forehead dropping onto it with a light thunk. He wonders if he has the energy. Is it weird to feel as strange as he does?

His posture straightens a little, and he forces himself to lock up before stumbling to the bed. 

At some point he falls asleep. In retrospect he’s pretty sure he stared at the wall for a long while. If you asked him for how long, he wouldn’t remember.

🐯

The apartment stinks.

Y/N’s nose wrinkles into her face as if trying to hide the moment she registers it, having clambered over the balcony and slid into the apartment. She decides to leave the door open. Hopefully it’d air out a bit.

As she toed her shoes off, she made some observations. The smell was Jeongguk’s, definitely. Like honey and laundry detergent, with just an edge of sweat - overall, very nice - but this version was soured. Like honey that’d grown a skin of mold over the top. The musk was like dejection, exhaustion, and loneliness if it were distilled into a perfume.

She made her way into the kitchen, rooting around for one of the old scented candles he had stashed away; gifts from his mom once upon a time. This one smelled like coconut. (She’d never smelled one in real life, but if they smelled like this candle then she’d love to try one.) The cool vinyl was refreshing to walk on after a day wearing shoes. She didn’t like shoes. While climbing or sneaking around, it was hard to keep the claws on her toes retracted - so they often poked into and got caught in the insides. She’d rather go barefoot. Sadly, the city had a lot of sharp edges to cut her feet on. Glass and gravel and such. So it was a must.

Shoes, shoes. Jeongguk said to put the shoes by the door. She always forgets.

Filling a pot with some water, she leaves it to boil and goes to grab the shoes she’d left by the balcony.

There are a pair of shoes on the bed.

And - oh, there’s a person attached to the shoes.

Her neck hair prickles and she jumps, just a bit, before realizing it was just Jeongguk. A little strange he was still here. Doesn’t he have work? He’s still as a statue, black clothes blending in with black bedding. She was so used to him around that his presence didn’t alarm her the way it would anyone else. (A part of her says that could be dangerous, but the other part just begins to purr.)

He stinks even more up close. Why?

She doesn’t hesitate crawling over him, not minding if he wakes up or not. “Jeongguk,” she whispers. He doesn’t answer, so she nips at his ear.

He wakes up with a sharp inhale, head popping up off the pillow. “Y/N?”

“Who else?” she muses and settles in on top of him, tucking her nose into his neck. She quickly decides against that though and shifts down a little so her face is between his shoulder blades instead. He stinks even worse up close. The ears atop her head fold back in light dismay. “You stink.”

He snorts, dryly. “Thanks.”

“I’m not being mean. Why do you stink?”

“Saying I stink is mean. You’re mean.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

She bites his shoulder and he swats at her halfheartedly. That’s wrong, too. Normally he’d wrestle with her. Why does he stink?

“You’re worrying me.”

“Why, ‘cause I stink?”

“Yes.”

He huffs. It’s barely a laugh. Her eyebrows knit together a bit. 

“Jeongguk,” she says, a little firmer this time.

“What?” He sounds a little irritable, and she growls at him a bit. He feels it more than hears it; a little rumble from her chest and up his spine. It’s not a threat. She’s just telling him to be nice.

He huffs, with a little less conviction this time, and sags back into the covers.

“Jeongguk, what’s wrong?” she whispers again. Her voice is a bit softer now.

“How can you tell?”

She shifted up, and nosed at the space behind his ear again despite the way it made her nose wrinkle. (He remembers her mentioning that his scent was strongest there. That’d been sometime after the second time she’d done this - he’d asked her why, not used to the contact, and she’d explained.)

“You stink,” she whispers.

Oh, he gets it now.

(“I can smell what you’re feeling,” she’d also told him. “Kinda.”)

He doesn’t reply for a while, and she gets even more worried. It’s moments like these that she dislikes: times where he can’t or doesn’t explain what’s hurting him, and she doesn’t know how to help properly. She admits she doesn’t have a lot of experience with comfort. Empathy? Absolutely. With cagedoggers and bastard abusers you needed to know how everyone was feeling when they had power over you; when to push, when to submit, when to be extra quiet. She was good at reading people from an arm’s length so she could best navigate around them and suffer the least damage. But - this? Offering comfort? She sucked at it. Even though she could tell something was wrong. Even though she wanted to help.

So she just pressed closer, despite the stink, wrapping around him and summoning the best purr she could manage. She wasn’t going to push it. But she wasn’t going to leave, either.

He was still, for a time. She adjusted to the smell. Still didn’t like it, still wanted to make it go away, but the overwhelming instinct to cover her nose wasn’t there anymore.

A little chuff tickled his neck.

It was the same noise she’d made when she’d saved him from the river. He’d done a little research on it later and learned it was a tiger thing. Reflected on how weird it was to hear it from a human. But he’d learned to take it for what it was - comfort. It wasn’t weird anymore. It was nice, actually. Familiar.

And for some reason, it made him cry.

She didn’t even realize until she heard him sniffle, and she panicked a little. Shit, she was terrible at comfort. Had she made him cry, somehow? “Jeongguk?” she asked again. It was quiet, but urgent.

She shifted to the side and tried to turn him over to look at his face, but he remained face-down in the pillow. He didn’t want to be looked at. There was a new flavor to the mold, now - this one smelled like shame, but she didn’t know what for.

She didn’t know what to do, so she defaulted to her go-to. Hold him. 

He cried for a while. It wasn’t a pretty cry; it twisted his face into a grimace and blotched the skin from the tips of his ears down to his shoulders red. Part of him knew it didn’t look good, so he kept his face muffled in the pillow. It made him feel shallow. He still cared about looking good? Now? But the shame overcame the shallowness, and he kept hiding. He had a full-body tremble shaking through him. And he cried, and he cried, and Y/N held him as tight as she could. Her heart ached for him.

She didn’t know what to do with that ache. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the skin of his neck, though she wasn’t sure what for. She repeated it though, again and again, hoping that the warmth of her breath and the light flutter of her lips would help ground him.

To an extent, it did. He knew - from somewhere in the back of his mind, even as his body continued to tremble and grimace - that it’s so much better crying when someone’s holding you. Even though there’s some shame in it. Even though it’s the same sort of vulnerability as an open wound.

Losing his energy seems to be the theme of the day.

He stops crying when he goes numb and gets tired. He could cry more. He doesn’t feel better. But he’s out of tears, his lips are chapped, and his throat’s raw. There’s no more energy to keep crying. 

Y/N presses in closer, like there was any space even left between them. He measures the rise and fall of her chest; tries to match it. Alright, maybe he’s a little better. Not good, but better. Raw is better than apathetic and tearless. Just gotta breathe.

In and out, on beat. A little better, yeah.

She rolls them to the side, a little worried he’d suffocate on the pillow. Her fingers weave into his hair.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He relaxes with the gentle massage, even though his chest still feels terribly empty. A little debate takes place in his head.

One side argues to keep his mouth shut and go to sleep. He still has a shift at Gloss tonight. Being tired then is not an option. Not when he’s setting up needled tattoo guns and jars of ink around maybe-criminals. The other side, though - the less lazy one, maybe - knows that Y/N’s gonna worry her hair (and fur? no?) out. She’s seen him down before, yeah, but never breakdown like this.

Her ear twitches, and she mutters a “ - shit - ” before scrambling up over him and passing over to the kitchen. “Do you want some ramen? I had water boiling.”

The thought of eating makes his gut squirm, but he knows it’ll make him feel better. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Can I… water, too?”

“Mhm.”

As she rustles around in the kitchen, he rolls onto his back. His face feels stiff. His eyes are itchy, too. They shut, and it stings.

Y/N watches him from the kitchen. Different scenarios passed through her brain as she poked at the noodles with some chopsticks. Honestly, she was at a bit of a loss. They had money, they had each other; he had Gloss and the Gims and time to sleep. So, something else? There was still so much she didn’t know about him. This was a heavy reminder of that.

The world was really quiet, then. Just the bubble and gurgle of the noodles, the soft beats of their breaths, the gentle shuffle of fabric.

She dished up. Poured him a glass of water. Returned.

There was a soft series of clinks as she set the bowls down on the bedside table, pulling him to sit up so she could sit behind him. It didn’t seem like he wanted to make any eye contact now, which she understood. She wasn’t a big fan of it either in moments of vulnerability. 

It took them a moment to settle. She made him eat first, just a couple bites. Had him drink some water. He appreciated it. It didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would. He was actually kind of hungry. It was easy to tell Y/N was bursting at the seams with questions, but holding back until he was ready. She tugged on his hoodie strings in the meantime.

“It’s a long story,” he finally said.

“We’ve got hours.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You sure you wanna hear it, though? It’s baggage.”

He couldn’t see her, but he knew she glared then - as if saying Really? Like I haven’t unloaded baggage on you before?

“Alright, fine,” he muttered.

And then he took a deep breath, and began.

A / N: I have no goddamn excuse for not updating this long hGSGH.. but with quarantine yall can expect semi-regular updates from me now. this story sucks but im gonna finish anyway. i’m gonna try to set up an actual wip schedule and maybe even a masterlist if i can figure out how to decipher this bitch of a site

stay safe yall and uhhh dont lick doorknobs n shit  💞 thank u guys for waiting

Tag List: @feed-my-geek-soul��  @not-novoa​ @astronomyturtle​ @anoushe01​@infiressnct @seokchella​ @dinorahrodriguez​ @mischiefmakerliesmith5​ @studiojoonie​ 

Tag List Glitches: @starryannaaa

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 45/45 COMPLETE

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Epilogue

Everything was fine in the apartment on Betterton Street on July 22nd.

The kettle was hissing in the kitchen, and Jessika got up from the couch to go fill the teapot.

She jostled Poe as she passed, who was slumped on the couch and whose legs had prevented her from leaving.

“Move over a little!” she grumbled, kicking his heel lightly.

“I can't move, princess, I'm too busy taking care of my boyfriend. Go around!” He retorted, hugging Finn's shoulder against him.

The two men sat cuddled together as if they were on a never-ending date. Which they were, actually. Ever since Finn left the hospital, Poe had been glued to him day and night. He would tell everyone that he previously thought he was going to  lose the love of his life and he was so miserable that now he promised never to let go of him again. And up to now, he proved to be a man of his word.

Finn's right leg was still in a splint, his left arm in a cast. The bruises on his face were slowly fading, and he could smile again without wincing.

BB8 lay on the carpet, chewing on her ball. As for Rey, she occupied a plush armchair, newly upholstered with Madras plaid fabric and accented with reflective gold studs.

She bit her thumbnail nervously. Jessika put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don't worry,” she said softly. “They’ll win.”

“I know they're going to win,” Rey whispered. “But him? What's going to happen to him?”

The television connected to Rey's laptop was streaming ABC7 online, broadcasting live from California.

The San Francisco courthouse took over the screen. Metal barriers and a volley of police prevented a group of demonstrators from approaching. The crowd was in an uproar, waving banners denouncing FORCE for endangering the Hoopa Valley Protected Reserve with an illegal mine.

That was only the tip of the iceberg, not that they knew it. Rey knew it, and her heart was racing. She wanted to cry.

She leapt up, recognizing Leia Skywalker as she approached, accompanied by Amilyn Holdo. Luke Skywalker trailed after them.

In the week since she’d returned to London, she’d had time to tell her friends the story. Maybe ten times, maybe even twenty times. Some things she’d left out, like the details of Ben’s past life. And other things she’d toned down, like the number of times he’d thoroughly fucked her. But overall, they now had a pretty good idea of ​​what was at stake today.

A few minutes later, she watched as a stunted old man with yellowing skin emerged from an unmarked limousine, followed by a redhead in a very sharp suit. Next came their small army of lawyers, in a flurry of more ironed suits and massive briefcases.

Rey leaned forward, fingers clutching the armrests of her chair. Where was Ben Solo? She then spotted Mace Windu, who glared sharply at the cameras. And suddenly, Ben appeared. He wore a dark suit and tie, his face clean shaven, and his hand clutching a phone. The crowd made him visibly uncomfortable. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his hair and Rey let out a painful sigh. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair...

Everyone was holding their breath. Jessika had stopped pouring tea. The room was so quiet that Rey thought she could hear her own heartbeat.

She pulled out her phone, typing frantically.

On the screen, Ben Solo stopped ascending the courthouse stairs to check his phone.

Then he looked around, as if looking for someone in the crowd before looking directly at the camera. He smiled. Rey began to cry.

Jessika put the kettle down and came over to rub her shoulders.

“Come on, breathe. You sent him a sext, right? Looks like he enjoyed it, you temptress.”

It was 10 AM, at the edge of the world on the Pacific coast. 6 PM in London.

The night would be long.

The trial would not be shown on television, of course. The journalists circled outside the courthouse like vultures, hoping to glean the slightest bit of information. Rey might as well have gone to bed and come back the next day to watch a recap, or browse the internet for the verdict. But it would be a waste, because she could never go to sleep like this,

At three in the morning BB8 began to bark at the screen, startling Rey who had dozed off in her chair. Finn and Poe had been asleep for several hours already—Rey gave them her room because Finn's health demanded it. Jess was sleeping soundly on the sofa. Leia and Luke Skywalker emerged from the courtroom.

BB8 barked again, wagging her tail excitedly when Leia’s face appeared on the screen. Rey came to kneel beside her and turned up the volume.

The journalists held their microphones to Amylin Holdo, who was preparing to give a public address.

"A pivotal moment in the battle against FORCE," said the reporter in the foreground, "what was supposed to be a quick trial to determine the legality of opening a mine in Humboldt County has turned into a federal case involving the highest levels of the company. Whistleblower Galen Erso unveiled so much more than a fishy mining operation during the hearing, and is currently being questioned by the police. The trial has been suspended until justices can determine the veracity of the new details. Andrew Snoke and Armitage Hux were specifically singled out, with new charges of tax evasion, corruption, blackmail, kidnapping, battery and embezzlement against the duo. Police are looking for a warrant to search all of FORCE’s San Francisco offices. "

WHAT ABOUT BEN?

Rey groaned. This was pure torture. The journalist continued her speech, struggling to control her enthusiasm. She had obviously come to cover a non-event and found herself on top of the scoop of the century.

"The directors of FORCE each risk decades in prison as well as millions of dollars in fines and damages. The case could also have consequences for Governor Valorum and Justice Dopheld Mitaka, both of whom are also accused of corruption."

Suddenly, Ben’s face filled the screen.

All the butterflies in Rey's stomach took flight at the same time, and she struggled to breathe as her whole body trembled,

The screen then flipped to a still photograph of a fifty-something man she didn’t recognize. He had a straight nose and thinning hair, and looked very tired.

Words scrolled past at the bottom of the screen: “Ben Solo and Galen Erso, longtime employees of FORCE, work together to expose massive corruption scandal.”

Impossible!

Rey gasped aloud, waking her friend up. Jessika turned to the screen, rubbing her eyes.

“So what happened?” She mumbled

“Jess, he'll get away with it!”

She grabbed the remote and turned the sound up higher.

“Ben Solo-Skywalker, son of the plaintiff Leia Skywalker, represented by Mace Windu of the Boston Bar, had served on the FORCE Board of Directors since the beginning of his career. He and Armitage Hux met in Harvard and joined the company together. Reports say that FORCE funded the now-rockstar’s entire tuition because of his connections to Anakin and Padmé Skywalker, the original founders of the company. He was later swiftly promoted Director of Operations, where he took the pseudonym Kylo Ren, which also served as his stage name as the frontman of alternative rock band Kylo and the Knights of Ren. The group is originally from Denver, where Galen Erso also lived. The two men would go on to start a series of secret investigations to uncover what is shaping up to be a fraud scandal of unprecedented scale.”

Rey put down the remote.

Ben had never worked with Galen Erso, she knew enough to know that Galen had always been an Earth Soldiers spy. When she met Ben in Denver, he was still working for the First Order.

So he must have cut a deal with Holdo to gain a place in the story. But at what cost?

He must have loved the opportunity of turning on Hux, in testifying against him. But her questions remained.

Grabbing her phone, she typed a new message. Leia Skywalker's response came a few minutes later.

Ben protected Galen from FO agent Phasma. Really spared us a disaster. Some immunity in the works. Lots to do but all good. Take care of yourself and text me ok? Leia.

It wasn't all lies, then.

She typed out one final question.

What is he risking?

Ding.

For the old corruption cases, 3-6 months in prison. For other suspected crimes, house arrest with monitoring. Probably 2 years. Will keep you posted.

Rey exhaled.

Three to six months in prison. House arrest for two years. She had foolishly imagined showing him around London at Christmas. Her heart sank. Better late than never.

Within hours, her worst fears in life had dwindled to a matter of months without Ben. Everything would be fine.

Her phone chimed again, another message from Leia. She opened it immediately.

Don’t forget about conjugal visits ;-)

***

THE END

***

PS: what happened to the Knights of Ren?

Skylar is tied to a chair in the FORCE basement. Perhaps the police will find him there.

Saul, Shakti, Kelsi and Tyra are unemployed. But they have resources! Maybe Ben will have work for them and him when he gets out of jail?

Syed was unleashed into the wild with $20 and a Mars bar. And a kick in the butt.

and Phasma?

Ben Solo gave her the choice between 1) handing him the file and disappearing OR 2) going down with Hux and Snoke. She chose option 1. Maybe she’ll be able to play dominoes with Syed at their secret Nebraska hideout, until things settle down?

***

THANK YOU FOR READING ! Thank you to P. my translator, who went through this burden for TWO WHOLE YEARS... I mean, how nice of her is that ?!!!

If you liked the story, drop a comment, pop in my DMs, leave a word on AO3... speak up ! I’d like to hear from you.

Cheers, and long live Reylo !

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Sixty-Eight: A Musician’s Life ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

It’s still a little weird to be here, knowing that his brother has graduated. Itachi and Sasuke may only have shared one year of college together, but...that does mean that this is the first Sasuke is doing without his big brother wandering the same campus.

As he’d hinted, Itachi has gone straight from college studying music, to playing in their city’s local orchestra. He even gets to work with live shows and plays, being down in the pit as the story is told on stage. Summer has been rather busy for him, but in a good way - Sasuke has rarely seen his brother so happy. All his years of studying to play piano as well as he does have paid off, and now he does what he loves for a living. Sasuke’s done his best to go to as many shows as he can in support. Itachi gets him in free when he can, but...otherwise the costs have added up, so a few have been missed for the first time since he started going to his brother’s performances.

But that’s not all Summer has brought his elder brother. The lady he’d done his duet performances with - the big Winter concert, and then the one just before his graduation - managed to get work in the same troupe...and though it was rather obvious to Sasuke, Itachi eventually admitted that they’d started going steady after the school year ended.

And that made Sasuke happy. Maybe a little melancholy, maybe a little jealous (it’s his only sibling, after all), and...maybe just a touch envious. He himself has never dated anyone - high school was too full of drama, studying, and avoiding most girls for him to have even considered it.

But Itachi wasn’t the only person he got to see play the past year. The skilled freshman soloist - the harpist, Hinata - caught his eye...or, rather his ear. Speaking with her after the Winter concert had shown a bit of a spark, and he’d gotten to see her a few times after that, including a few rehearsals for his brother that Hinata lent a hand for despite having no place in the show herself.

Summer, however, saw her fairly busy. The song she’d played for him - the one she’d written for the upcoming contest - was one of his last excuses to see her before they both got swamped with their own responsibilities over the break. For Hinata, it was traveling back across the state to retreat home until Autumn. And for Sasuke, it was getting a temporary job at a grocery store until classes started up again.

They’ve texted quite a bit, but haven’t seen each other since a short visit a few weeks after the year let out. In a way...he’s a bit nervous. They haven’t exactly committed to anything, but...there’s been the occasional message he hasn’t been sure about: if it was meant to be flirty or not. And a few experimental ones of his own haven’t elicited the most telling or responses.

He likes her. He never expected to, given their rather chance meeting, but...he does. She’s sweet, funny, shy, and passionate about what she does. Compared to his own rather...mundane way of getting through life, she’s been like a breath of fresh air.

Especially when she sends him clips of her playing. It’s not her voice he gets to hear, but...it still feels just as telling of what she wants to say. It’s odd...he’s never been the musical kind, himself. That was always Itachi’s role, while his has been more the ways of logic and facts and...numbers.

“You might not make music, but you do know it. Even if you think you don’t.”

Sasuke had never really considered that before she said it. It’s true enough - he doesn’t play an instrument, and he’s never had the guts to try to sing. But after so many years of listening to his brother play, and seeing how much he loves it, he still has a pretty good understanding of it, overall.

He’ll never live a musician’s life, but...two people who mean a lot to him will. And while he can’t walk it the way they do, he still plans on being there as best he can.

So maybe he doesn’t have as much to fear from seeing her again as he thinks.

He moves into his apartment a few days before classes start - nothing special, but close to campus and about the same price as he’d pay for a tiny, privacy-less dorm room. Worth it, in his opinion, to have his own bathroom, shower, and a place to sleep without dealing with someone else. Once all his few belongings are moved into place, he sits on his bed and pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Hinata.

[ settled in, hbu? ]

She’s still in a dorm, and has clearance to move in today, too. There’s no reply for a while, so he goes about putting the last few odds and ends away before hearing his message notification sound.

[ getting there, it’s super crowded! noisy too - gonna be jealous of your peace and quiet ]

He can’t help a soft laugh to himself.

[ feel free to come indulge whenever you want, I won’t mind ]

[ careful, I might actually take you up on that! ]

[ I’d be happy to have you ]

She goes quiet again, so he sighs and just...browses social media on his phone. He could be doing any number of things, but he’s honestly not in the mood...if anything, he might just take a nap.

[ hey, you wanna meet up, btw? could totes get some lunch or sm…? ]

Sasuke blinks at the invite, lip twitching at her verbiage. Totes? Do people still say that? He really wasn’t expecting to see her that soon, but...really, what’s holding him back beyond being a little nervous?

[ sure, meet you at the mess hall - you good in like 10? ]

[ yeah, I can be there then! just unpacking and honestly I can use a break lol ]

[ cool, sys ]

Phone, wallet, and keys tucked into his pockets, he locks up and strolls toward campus. Already the trees are turning color, a definite briskness to the air as he goes. Maybe he should have brought his jacket...it wasn’t this cool earlier. Oh well, he doesn’t want to be late. Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders against the chill until he gets there.

To his surprise, he beats her. Hanging around the entrance, he only perks up once she shows, looking around before spotting him. “Hey!”

“Hey.”

“You weren’t waiting for a very long time, were you?”

“Nah, just a few minutes.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, well...let’s get some food! I had to skip breakfast this morning to make it here on time for move-in, so I’m starving!”

“How’s your dorm?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Pretty typical. My roomie seems n-nice. She’s pre-med, actually! I think we’ll get along. What about you? Gonna be lonely out in an apartment like that?”

“Honestly, the dorm life was a pain last year, so I’m happy for it. I’ll still be around for classes and library stuff. Might come pester you at some of your practices if you want.”

Hinata brightens. “I-I’d like that, yeah!”

“Still pursuing music?”

“Of course! I can’t wait for the first concert...I’ve missed playing with a full ensemble. How’s your brother doing, by the way? I haven’t had much chance to talk to him.”

“Good, he’s still with the local orchestra. Still dating miss duet.”

Hinata can’t help a small, wry smile. “Good. I can’t wait to get a job somewhere playing...it’s gonna be awesome. Maybe I’ll end up with him!”

“He could put in a good word for you, and he’ll be well in it by then.”

From there, they just...slip into conversation as though no time has really passed. Texting helped, of course...but he’s still happy to see her, and hear her voice. It really makes it obvious how much he really missed her.

“So, uh…”

“Hm?”

He fiddles with his fork for a moment. “...gonna be pretty busy this year?”

“Probably...my first quarter is going to be pretty heavy.”

Ah, darn. “Yeah, uh...mine too. Still not a hundred percent sure about the law thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I dunno. I’ve never really had a calling like you and Itachi.”

“Well, that’s all right! Not everyone gets a career in something they love. For a lot of people, it’s more like...your job supports your hobby, which is what makes you happy, you know?”

“Guess so.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Huh?”

“About if I’ll be busy?”

Oh...uh… “Just...curious. Guess neither of us are gonna have a lot of free time, huh?”

“Maybe not...we’ll have to see how courses shake out, I suppose. But, um…” Hinata hesitates, going a light shade of pink. “I’d...I’d like to still make time to see you! I haven’t really...made many friends here. And you’re really the only one who kept in contact over break.”

“Really?”

“Mhm…”

“Well, uh...I’d like that. Seeing you, I mean.” There’s a beat of silence. “...I’d...like to see you a lot, actually. Like, uh…”

She blinks, looking a little unsure what he means.

Nerves make him hesitate. “Y’know, like...seeing each other. Like...like dating…?”

Another blink, eyes wide and...mouth silent.

...he just messed this all up, didn’t he?

“You...you’d like to…?”

“I dunno, I just…” A hand itches his neck. “...I really like you. Maybe I’m reading this all wrong, but...I just...do. I just wasn’t sure if you read it that way, too…?”

Another pause, and then her face ducks a few degrees, smiling shyly and going pink. “...I...I think I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“...yeah! But...I guess if we’re busy, then…”

“Well, we’ll just...have to work around it, I guess. I don’t mind. I just like...talking to you. Seeing you. Doesn’t matter how often.”

“...o-okay! Then...yeah! We can...we can try that,” Hinata affirms, beaming softly.

“All right, cool. Guess I’ll just have to start going to all of your concerts, too.”

“...I’d like that.”

“...me too.”

                                                              .oOo.

     Aaand last upload for tonight! Still a day behind, but it could be worse :'D      So this is a pretty big throwback all the way to days 12 and 86! Our little musical AU where Itachi and Hinata both are into music, and Sasuke...well, he listens xD This one's pretty cute, so I was happy to write a little more of it!      But on that note (haha, get it, NOTE? ...sorry, I'm exhausted...), I better head to bed! Thanks for reading~

[mind-writing0]

~Chapter 11~

They were all conveniently stashed in the dining room when the alarms went off

Piercing and non-stop, these blaring sounds went on around the Selected, shocking them into dropping their forks.

"To the back of the room, please, sirs!" King James ordered, his tone demanding yet understanding. He grabbed his wife, Queen Diana, around the waist and moved to a corner.

Prince Roman stood up, along with the other Selected, their silverware clattering onto plates of half-eaten food. His eyes met Virgil's, but only for a second, as he was not the one the prince was in search of. He saw Patton, paralyzed in terror, and stepped off of the platform intended for a royal family. Roman went over to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him along, the look in his eyes urgent yet comforting. Virgil felt his stomach tense, both from the intensity of the situation and seeing Roman's immediate reaction.

A few of the young men also had to be pulled along, and they were obviously too terrified to be in such a position for long. They finally got to the corner, a clamor of loud noises all around them. The butlers had pulled metal blinds over the windows, and it sounded as though heavy objects were being thrown at them.

"Sorry, sirs, we do have a bit of a...rebellion...as I am sure you've heard." The king stated, still clutching the queen even though she seemed fine.

The initial shock had faded, though the noise of the intruders still rang. Roman was seen talking with one of the other Selected, as he was making rounds, and he soon came to Virgil.

"Are you alright, my dear?" He asked in that odd English-American accent of his. No one really talked that way except for him, and Virgil wondered why he chose to speak that way if it wasn't learned.

Virgil didn't even mind being called my dear in that moment—he was too concerned with the sweeping relief he felt. "Yes," He replied tensely, then he waited a moment to muster up the courage to continue amongst all the shouting. "I—I wanted to thank you. For the jeans. And not kicking me out? If you're not...I don't know. I'm really sorry..."

Roman nodded, his hands behind his back as he looked both professional and lost in thought. "I can see why you did it, now. It did seem rather improper, in hindsight, though it does make a funny story. Perhaps we could tell it one day, lacking the intensity?" He sighed and looked down at his well-polished shoes. "Who am I kidding? You always seem mad at me...if it wasn't for your seemingly average caste and political standing, I could pinpoint you as one of them." He nodded towards the door, where there was more banging and yells.

"I'm not mad," Virgil said immediately, "and I'm definitely not a rebel. What's the deal with them, anyway? Like, do you guys know what's going on?"

Prince Roman nodded and looked over at his parents cautiously before continuing. "Well, in all honesty, it appears there's two very different types. Father won't listen; he claims they're all the same, but I believe there's two groups. One is the Northern rebels, they are less brutal. In my theory..." he looked around again. "I think they're looking for something."

Virgil gasped at the sudden idea of what secrets this palace could hold, and the idea of this group fighting to find them. Or they could just be petty thieves, though there could be a safer way of stealing riches. "What do you think they're looking for?"

"I'm not sure," Roman whispered, "but it is rather frustrating to be done with an attack and walk into your room being a wreck. You have no idea how many cameras and scripts I've had to replace."

"Cameras and scripts?" Virgil grinned, glancing over at Roman out of gratefulness of having something normal to talk about.

The prince blushed, "Yes, I'm interested in photography and theatre. Laugh all you'd like."

"No, I think it's cool. Most of the lower castes don't get to have interests; they just study what they're born into."

"Oh," Roman stopped in his thoughts, his eyes screaming guilt.

"Yeah..." Virgil shuffled awkwardly. This was one of the reasons he could hardly stand the idea of having a relationship with the prince. While they did get along—aside from some issues with Virgil's temper—how were they supposed to get along on politics from two very different viewpoints. Think of politics..."What's with the other group? Do you know what that want?"

Roman looked more tense than before, and Virgil had the urge to switch back to the scripts before things got more intense than what was going on outside. "Well...the other group is the Southern rebels. I believe they are only here to cause destruction, but they shouldn't be so quickly dismissed. They...they kill people, Virgil. I—I've only seen bits and pieces, but...it's horrible. That's why I believe this attack shall—should be credited to the Northern rebels. If the Southerners were responsible, there would be gunshots, and the Northerners never kill."

"Oh," Virgil said simply, his stomach sinking. "I didn't realize..."

"It's alright," Roman replied, though it wasn't. "If any of the rebels are after anyone, it'll be the royal family. I am in much more danger than anyone in this palace." His voice tried to remain smooth, but it cracked as if he were about to cry or have an anxiety attack. "Though I must remain strong for my country. As an old leader once said, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself'."

Virgil nodded, though he had no idea where he had heard that. All history lessons seemed strain or censored, even if that seemed ridiculous. He briefly remembered a tattered history book from when he was little. His mother kept it locked away, but Virgil got to it somehow. He was punished for the secrets he learned, though he hadn't learned much.

"You seem awfully quiet, my d—Virgil." Roman corrected, "Would you prefer for us to put these troubling thoughts aside for now?"

"Yeah," Virgil agreed, and he couldn't help grinning at the way the prince spoke. "So, how have you been handling the other Selected?"

"It's been alright," Roman commented, looking anywhere but at Virgil. "If you consider not arranging any dates in the hopes of ignoring them until they go away alright."

Virgil laughed, a surprising sound to hear amidst such a situation. "Well, I had a suggestion on how to start. My other friend, Lance, is really nice. He likes Cuban culture and comedy, and he's a talker, so you mostly just have to listen. Go ahead, Roman." He patted the prince on the back, but he had stopped cold in his tracks. "What's wrong?" Virgil asked.

"You called me Roman. Just Roman, with no prince or Your Higness beforehand." Roman muttered.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean anything by it." Virgil replied nervously. Weren't people, like, burned at the stake for that?

"It's alright, Virgil." The prince said, "I actually quite like not being addressed as royalty for once. It makes me feel like...like we're really friends." Then he walked off, to talk to Lance or someone else, before Virgil could say anything else.

The attack didn't continue on for much longer. The shouts ceased and the doors were eventually opened by a nervous maid. "I'm very sorry, please don't mind the mess."

"Nonsense," the king muttered, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was dismissing it out of kindness or mumbling annoyances.

They were all let out, and the Selected headed upstairs to their rooms. Many were surprised and upset when they saw the damage, and Virgil thought that maybe he was the only one Roman told of the different types of rebels. Though he had only just grasped the concept, he could already tell by the side effects that this was the Northern rebel's responsibility. When he opened his door, his room was wrecked. Pillows unstuffed, suits thrown out of the closet, books with pages ripped out strewn across the floor. Virgil's flustered maids were apologetically cleaning up. The black haired boy knelt down to help.

"Oh, no, sir, you don't need to help." Romelle pipped up, picking up some books.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Virgil smiled at her. He had to be a bit gentler with her, as she seemed more fragile than the others. "It is my room, after all."

So they cleaned for a while, occasionally making small talk, though they never delved too personally into any of the stories to be kept a secret. After about an hour and a half, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, no." Romelle whispered as Virgil answered it.

Roman stood at the door, his arms crossed. "Sorry," he held his arms at his side. "That was improper. I'm just a little upset, considering they took my Wicked script. Why would they even need that? Oh, well. Has everything been alright around here, fixing everything?"

"Yeah," Virgil replied, "I only really have a few books and stuff that needs fixing, they ripped—" he looked around at his maids, all of which were attentive to the point of eavesdropping. "They caused some damage. Hey, Katie, would you mind getting us some tea? Allura and Romelle can go with you, and you can take your time."

The maids, immediately sensing the request behind the words, giggled as they left. Virgil rolled his eyes with a smile, "Sorry about them. They're crazy, but I like them."

"Yes, they do seem like a characteristic bunch." Roman noted, his tone surprised as if he'd never seen a server with a personality before.

"So," Virgil, out of habit, sat at his new piano bench. "What are you doing here? Did you find something new?"

"How rude!" Roman said, "Can I not simply see my best and only friend?"

Virgil grinned, "I guess so." He looked down at the piano. "I could play a song. I know how to sing and play a lot of instruments, but that's pretty much it."

"Still fascinating, nonetheless..." Roman muttered. "Speaking of you being my talented and special friend, I wanted to arrange something." He moved to lean against the closet door.

"If it's another date—"

"No, no. I've learned my lesson. But I do believe it would be much more efficient and fun if we had a symbol, like something we do when we need to talk."

"A symbol?" Virgil asked, trying not to laugh as he shuffled through the palace's hand-picked pretentious music sheets. What was this, elementary school?

"Like, running a hand through my hair—no, that's too common. Pinching my cheek? No, that looks odd—"

Virgil interrupted his brain storming. "How about pulling on your ear?" He asked jokingly.

Roman looked as though he'd came upon a brilliant solution. "Great idea, Virgil! See, that's why we're friends. Okay, I regret to say I must go speak with the other Selected. I hope to be pulling on my ear soon." He winked with a small bow, then glanced for a moment at the purple and black swirled rose sitting solemnly in its vase. Then he left, and Virgil was left grinning when his maids came in with tea.

~~~~~~

Next Masterlist Previous

Wow, we have a big taglist! I’m glad all you lovely people like the story! 🥰 let me know if you wanna be added!

Taglist

@its-the-cat-queen @notalwaysthevillian @the-doctor-demigod-wizard @avocados26 @2-many-fandoms-to-chose-from @randomsandersides @misera-libera @kawaii-harmony @seeyoube @dabby-the-disappointment @kaioanxiety @toxicity-levels-critical @sandersfandersblog @tryingtoohard-noclue @amazable01 @hazelswann @ray-iplier @thats-so-crash @thatsthat24 @shootingace @marshmallow-the-panda @sortablue @random-artsy-space-dude @galaxy-lilies-main @magicaldestinayspaceunicorn @theunoriginaldaisy @lydixa-petal @sombraplayslazertag

[raptorginger]

Ear-sy Rider II: Reconnect chapter 1 - New Bacon-ings

for @ever-so-reylo

Not sure why I haven’t been posting this here from the beginning.  Maybe cause I was doing it on my phone and that’s hard to do?  I dunno

Anyway, here is a gift fic for Ever So Reylo, fellow Bob’s Burgers fanatic and amazing writer (but y’all already know that)

Former mortal enemies, nemeses even, Rey and Ben reconnect after Ben comes back into town.  A Bob’s Burgers/Reylo mashup

“Oh my God, Poe!  You can’t just let him in here!” Rey shouted as her sister Rose’s long time friend and sometimes romantic rival opened the front door of her family’s restaurant to let in a very round, very old raccoon.  The critter’s nails clicked across the worn linoleum floor as it scampered toward Poe’s stool at the bar and sat, waiting expectantly.  She couldn’t muster much malice in her voice, though.  She was about to close up shop and join Maz and Chewie upstairs, and the raccoon was practically a family pet at this point.  She heaved an exaggerated sigh and retrieved the little bowl Maz had set aside under the counter, the name “BB8” painted lovingly in grey and orange around the cracked porcelain vessel.  She carefully sloshed a couple of ounces of Merlot into the bowl and handed it to Poe, who set it on the floor.  The animal lapped it up greedily and used his paws to judiciously wash up when he was finished.

“He’s neater than you,” Rey teased.

Poe rolled his eyes and made a sound that sounded like air hissing out of a pipe.  He twisted his hips on his stool while he finished his beer and the rest of his fries, the once sparkly red vinyl cracking and squeaking as he spun.

Rey suppressed a groan.  They’d need to replace the seats again soon.  It had been ages since it’d been done last.  She hoped the supplier was still around.  Rey picked up a clean bar rag and and wetted it so she could start wiping down the counter.  Poe got up and let BB8 back outside, flicking the main light switch and “Open” sign off.  Only the small lights over the bar were on now, the entire restaurant cast in a soft dim light.  The sickly yellow pallor from the street lights could barely reach through the glass, and Rey could just make out the sign for Sheev’s Pizzeria (the Original!) through the fog and mist.  She rubbed the Formica counter a bit harder and started muttering under her breath.  Although Sheev Palpatine was no longer around to harass her foster dad Chewie, she felt like he’d put up that sign just to annoy him.  Palpatine had franchised his restaurant years ago and moved away from Seymour’s Bay “for his health.”  He came back every now and then to check on things and trade barbs with Chewie and Maz, but otherwise he was no longer a part of their lives, for which Rey was grateful.

She set her rag aside and began to pick at The Spot on the counter, the one no one had been able to get out since the damn thing had been installed decades ago.  She huffed into her palm.  Pick.  Pick.  Pick.

“Something on your mind, Sport?”  Poe asked as he brushed fry crumbs and ketchup from his mouth.

Rey pushed back against the counter’s edge and went to grab her own beer from the cooler.  Snapping it it open, she took a long thoughtful sip before she answered.  She’d moved back a couple of years ago to help Maz and Chewie go through old things and ended up sticking around.  As Chewie and Maz had gotten older, it was impossible to miss how they struggled to accomplish the tasks needed to keep the business going everyday.  Rey didn’t mind.  She’d always wanted to take over Takodana Cantina when she was older, but she couldn’t help feeling like something was missing.  Maybe things left unsaid or undone.  To whom or what, she had no clue.  Moving back to Seymour’s Bay had dredged up strange feelings of yearning and nostalgia that she had no idea how to deal with, so she often shoved them aside and chose to live in some strange emotional purgatory.  It worked for her.

“Arthritis is a bitch,” Rey muttered finally, taking another swig of her beer.

Poe barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.  Rey knew Poe was going through his fair share of strange feelings too.  Well, maybe not strange.  Just, a lot.  He and Finn had broken up, again, and Finn was dating Rose now.  Again.  Rey didn’t see why the three of them couldn’t just be together, but apparently Rose couldn’t stand Poe.  Or something.  Rose always mumbled when she talked about Poe.  To be fair, Poe had a tendency to mumble about Rose, too.

Rey was pretty sure they were all in love with each other, but just couldn’t admit it due to years of childhood rivalry.  She gave Poe a sympathetic smile.  They’d figure it out.  They had to.

“Hey, you about done?  I need to lock up here,” Rey said.

Poe wiped his face with his napkin and chugged the last swig of his beer.  “Yup,” he coughed as he tugged his worn leather jacket on.  “Thanks for listening.”  

He pushed his way outside, turning up his collar at the damp, and flipped a wave goodbye.  Rey tried to plaster a smile on her face as she waved back, thankful when Poe stepped out of view.  Her face fell back into its familiar morose expression as she continued to sip her beer and wipe down the counter and tables.  Overall, she enjoyed this time of day, closing time.  The air was still and mostly quiet, the only sounds the groaning of the large refrigerator in the kitchen and the pipes in the crawl space.  She could hear the hum from Biggs’ furnace next door, and tried not to think too hard about why it was on and instead focused on the soothing white noise.

Absentmindedly, perhaps to cover up the sound of the furnace, she started to whistle the theme song from her favorite Hawk & Chick movie, Hawk & Chick versus Seaweed Monster, a genuine smile creeping up on her.  She remembered when she and Chewie had to improvise the dubbing on stage during an impromptu film festival.  Rey laughed to herself and decided she’d pop it in the VCR when she got back upstairs.  Maybe make some popcorn.  Rey stopped wiping the table she was cleaning and took a step back, holding her arms around her middle.  She wrapped the nostalgic feeling around her like a blanket, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of her memories for just a moment.

Rey finished the rest of her cleaning quickly and switched off the bar lights.

“Good night, Restaurant,” she murmured to the dark interior as she pushed open the door.  The night air was thick with mist and fog, the smell of sea salt strong in her nose.  She could hear the rush of a car here and there a couple of streets away from Ocean Avenue and the sounds of the late night revellers at Wonder Wharf as she turned the key in the stubborn lock and headed for the apartment door.  Her hand hovered over the handle for a moment, the mist in the air clinging to her skin.  Distinctive laughter cut through the night air like a knife, shrill and biting.  Hux and Phasma.  Rey groaned inwardly.  They had always been more of Rose’s problem than hers, but that didn’t mean they ignored each other.  Unfortunately.  

Rey tried to hurry and unlock the front door when Hux’s simultaneously deep and whining voice called out to her, “Hey, Rey!”  He and Phasma snickered at the rhyme.

Rey rolled her eyes and plastered on her fake smile and turned around to see the pale red headed man and the fabulously tall platinum blonde behind her, inseparable as always with knowing smiles on their faces.  Rey didn’t like that look.  It meant they knew something she didn’t and were about to burst a bubble she didn’t even know she had.  “Hey, guys!” Rey replied as cheerfully as she could.  “What’s up?”

Hux and Phasma shared a look between each other before Hux spoke in a mock conspiratorial tone, “Did you hear who’s coming back to town?”

“No, I didn’t.  Tourists?” Rey replied in a wry tone, dropping her fake smile.

“Don’t be thick,” Phasma said, rolling her eyes and snapping her gum.  

Rey turned fully around and crossed her arms defensively.  “Look, I just want to go upstairs and relax.  Why don’t you just say what you came here to say and go to The Desire Dungeon, or whatever the hell it’s called, thinking you pissed me off, and we can all have a pleasant evening, okay?”

“Geez, don’t get so defensive,” Hux said in his weird nasally voice.  “We just thought, as friends…,”

Rey gave Hux a speaking glance.

“As acquaintances, we should tell you that Doctor Ben Solo will be back in town.  You guys knew each other right?”

Rey felt the color drain from her face.  Oh, she knew Ben Solo.  Practically everyone in town knew she knew Ben Solo.  Her nemesis as a child, her torment as a teenager, a fleeting dream as an adult.  And, if she was honest with herself, probably the reason she felt so weird about being back in town.  Hux and Phasma smiled in an infuriatingly superior way.  She rammed her keys back in her jacket pocket and shoved between them.

“Fuck you, Hux,” she snarled as she strode down the sidewalk, heading she knew not where but trusting her feet to get her there safely.  Hux and Phasma headed in the opposite direction, cackling wickedly.

Rey stalked quickly down the sidewalk, head down and hands fisted in her jeans pockets.  She slowed when she eventually turned off Ocean Avenue, her pace becoming more shuffling.  Pebbles and stones bounced against the rubber heel of her black Converse as she kicked them half heartedly, only to encounter them again after a few feet.  It was darker here, quieter, colder.  The sounds of the rocks clattering along the pavement seemed to echo all around her as Rey came to a stop.  She was at The Steps.  The stone steps where she’d first met Ben when she was nine years old.  He’d been a teenager then, and a bully.  He’d taken her hat, a silly pink thing with rabbit ears, probably her most cherished possession at the time.  She’d gone...a bit overboard in her response perhaps.  But, if a nine year old has access to the leader of an outlaw biker gang, it’s only natural she’d call him up to help deal with a bully.  Yeah, just a little overboard in hindsight.

Rey sat down on the steps and stared at the tops of her shoes, hands limp between her knees.  He’d tormented her all through her childhood with pranks and, just, his general existence.  It was easy for a nine year old Rey to make him into her nemesis, and her into his.  What sixteen year old wants to lose face to a nine year old?  He’d tormented her in a much different way when she reached her teens and he started college, although he seemed to have forgotten her completely by then.  That hurt worse than the childhood teasing and jokes to a scrawny high school girl with a crush on a college boy.  She thanked whatever God was out there for Rose, who had helped her get her feelings out on paper, and for Dopheld who insisted she practice all of the ridiculous dance routines he made up on the fly so he could “visualize his art.”  It helped her forget.  She still thought about Ben sometimes, especially now that she’d moved back and saw reminders of their shared past everywhere she went.  She wondered how college had gone for him.  His parents had pushed him into a very prestigious university, and he’d gone on to medical school.  She wondered if it had been what he wanted.  He was a doctor now, as Hux had so kindly pointed out, so he must have been okay with it.  

She was grateful Maz and Chewie had never been that way.  Then again, they’d always struggled to keep their heads above water, so maybe that was just a result of their focus needing to be on the family’s survival rather than their futures.  Things seemed to have turned out well enough, however.  Dopheld was a choreographer in New York and Rose was a fairly successful author.  And Rey had more or less taken over the restaurant, which had now seen a fair share of success thanks to Millennials who tended to shun chains and franchises in favor of local places like hers.

Rey heaved a loud rumbling sigh and chastised herself for feeling so maudlin.  Why did she let him occupy her thoughts at all?  There was no way she occupied his.  He’d probably stopped thinking about her the second he became a high school senior.  A junior even.  Chewie would say something about how she was letting him live in her head rent free, or some other weird parent bullshit that sounded helpful but ultimately wasn’t.

Why had she even stopped here?  Damn subconscious.  Rey pushed on her knees and stood up, straightening her My Chemical Romance t-shirt back over her hips.  She turned to head toward Wonder Wharf, thinking she might ride the Ferris Wheel or the Scream-i-cane when a voice called out to her from behind, stopping her dead in her tracks, soft and low and deep, like caramelized sugar.

“The only thing missing is your ears,” Ben Solo murmured.  “I’m sure I gave those back to you when we were kids.”

Rey blinked at him, completely overcome with something.  Something fragile and precious that left her awash in warmth and pain and softness.  It was too much, too many conflicting things and she hated it.  And he stood there, appearing completely unaffected and looking better than anyone had a right to look.  Rey knew she had grown since she was nine, and he still towered over her as he always had, but he was broader now, the perfect tailoring of his jeans and his well fitted black jacket making him appear even more so.  His hair was still thick and dark, his mouth teasing and expressive.  He looked expensive, like something in a store she’d been told not to touch in case she broke it.  Like something so out of her sphere of existence it was a surprise they’d crossed paths at all.

And yet, he’d remembered her ears.  Rey fingered the hem of her oversized jacket.  She’d dressed much the same in high school.  Jeans and band t-shirts and Converse.  And her ears.  He’d remembered her ears.  

He’d remembered her ears.

[diegos-butt]

okay wow!!! what a ride!!!

my comments? well let's go

part 1

‘I missed you too, momma.’ Sy wraps his arm around her shoulders and realizes he might’ve missed her more than he initially let in on. Back at the base he was all talk, saying how everyone shouldn’t be such babies and cry about how much they missed their families. The second however he saw his own momma when he got back on American soil, he nearly turned into a crying mess.

sy is a momma's boy and that is really cute. can i hug him?!

Momma holds the waitress’ hand into hers and says: ‘Darlin’, meet my son Luke. Luke, this is my favorite waitress here at the Oak, Rosemary.’

momma syverson already setting these two up

Dammit, how long does he know her? Thirty seconds, tops? He shouldn’t be hearing wedding bells already.

sy is a softie and a cutie and he is already smitten?! SO CUTE

‘He died a year and a half ago,’ momma continues.

breaking my heart already i see

She looks at Sy and he can see it: there is a lot of pain behind her eyes. She fabricates a smile on her face to mask it though.

‘Fuck me, did you just got a whole lot stronger?’ Hunter asks, mid hug.

sy is a fucking beast. also, who is hunter, what does he look like and is he single? is he another texan bull?

They go way back: all the way back to kindergarten. It may be hard to believe now, but Sy used to be the smallest of the group, despite being the oldest.

this in indeed hard to believe, yet i like it haha

i love how his friends already know he is into rose, that's true friendship haha

part 2

And then someone pulled me up.

the way they met is so cute omg

It was indeed his last tour, just not the way I expected it to be.

breaking my heart all over again i see. brandon sounds like an amazing guy and it is such a shame what happened..

The sudden deep voice late in the night causes me to get startled, but when I turn around, I can’t help but smile.

hihihihihihihi

‘Well, it won’t start and I can’t seem to pop the hood.’

# about me

‘I can offer you a lift.’

sy helping her oh my god what a gentleman, and then this?! yessssss

Sy lets his eyes wander over my legs, causing me to snap my fingers.

and also, i love rose's wittyness hahaha what a queen

‘But please, let me offer you a lift. I know that in Chicago the independent woman trick works, but allow me to show you some Texan chivalry.’

Sy chuckles. ‘Lemme guess, you drive like the devil’s chasing ya.’

# another, about me (except when i don't drive alone, then i drive more socially acceptable)

AND THE BANTER BETWEEN THEM I LOVE IT I LOVE BANTER

i love it that they can talk about brandon, and that sy just listens and ask the appropriate questions

part 3

The fair wasn’t Sy’s idea. It was Hunter’s grand plan.

seriously, who is hunter?!?!!?!?! i feel like i like him

It has become a daily thing, where she tries to guess what he wants to eat and drink. She’s always right, because whenever she guesses something, he just says she’s correct, mostly because she starts to smile really wide and her eyes start to glimmer and the hurt disappears.

THIS IS SO CUTE AND SWEET OF HIM

It is becoming painfully obvious to both him and his friends that he is developing some serious feelings for Rose. That’s why he can’t sit at the Oak with his friends anymore, though Rose never says anything about his not so subtle friends.

i like his friends hahah

‘Besides: I’m not going to talk about it anymore. She’s a widow, man. You can’t just assume she’s ready to date yet.’

10 points for sy for saying this

She’s quite a bit taller than her friends, hence the reason she probably doesn’t wear heels like the other two.

woooooow she is tall?? :O i just assumed she would be short haha, but i love a tall queen !!!!!

She simply shrugs, before taking a deep breath. ‘Want to do something here? Maybe win me a stuffed animal?’

aaaaahhh yes pls omg

‘Training,’ she says. ‘I mean, you are going to be better than your friend Hunter over there. He is experiencing some severe trouble with the fishing, it’s almost getting pathetic.’

i like this hunter dude more and more

He chuckles, before placing the hoodie on her lap. ‘Don’t want ya to flash anyone.’

SYYYYY COULD YOU NOT BE A GENTLEMAN FOR ONE SECOND THIS IS ASDFGHJ

Her parents sound horrible, can i slap them? damn

Oh she’s bold, wanting to buy flowers for his mom, while her own is standing close by.

petty rose, i like this haahaha

His momma can’t shut up, his dad simply observes it all, while both are the prime example of the Texan friendly.

*claps*

them skipping her parents, i love it haha. sy is asdfghjk i have no words for him except PERFECT

part 4

I quickly write down the rest of the orders and Hunter wouldn’t be Hunter if he didn’t suggest: ‘And how about a little bit of your time?’

hunter, my man

Sy takes a deep breath, as his eyes dart through the Oak. ‘You want to do something tonight? With me?’

‘Drive in theater?’

*shrieks*

‘I’ll make sure to hydrate you from time to time.’

sassy sy is my fav

‘No, wait, you should become a firefighter.

firefighter sy, firefighter syyyyyyyyyy YES PLS

omg the car scene... sy too soon!!!! all the hugs to rose? yes all the hugs to rose my poor bby...

part 5

When she pulls back from the hug, she holds his face in her hands and sighs, before letting go of him completely. ‘Be careful out there.’

oh my god this scene... *sobs*

The same stuffed animal he won for Rose at the fair. He grabs the letter out of the box and opens it, her neat handwriting all over the page.

the giraffe!!! and the letter!!!!!

oh damn the phone call... i feel so much for her.. poor girl.. can momma syverson give her hug?!?!?!

part 6

oh em gee rose is there!!!!!!!!!!!

but so good of her to see the support group again, i am proud of her

AND THE TALK THEY HAVE, AT THE AIRPORT AND SY SAYS HE'S BACK FOR GOOD. AAAAAHH

‘Well, they asked me to introduce myself, so I did.’

captain BDE in the house y'all

A few seconds go by, before I decide I actually want that. I push myself up and sit in between his thick thighs. I lean back against his chest and let out a content sigh.

THIS IS NICE?! THIS IS HEAVEN

‘I think I love you.’

*happy squeals*

‘I’m beating you then,’ Sy says, ‘because I know I love you.’

oh em geeee!!!!

AND THE KISS AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH that was so cute omg

part 7

this part was so precious. brandon still being part of their lives is so respectful and i love that.

‘Okay, you two,’ he hears Hunter say, ‘I really hate it when couples rub in my face they did find someone and I still haven’t.’

hey hunteeeeer, im still single *wink wink*

She tilts her head. ‘How about you and I go together?’

hihihihi yes pls

---

I LOVED THIS OH MY GOD

Summary: Rosemary Hill is twenty seven and lives in San Antonio, Texas. Not exactly by choice, but that's a story for a different time. When Captain Syverson comes back home, she finally gets to meet the legendary captain people have been boasting about. But one thing is certain: never is she falling for a military man. Not again.

Captain Syverson x Rosemary Hill (Asian OFC)

Wordcount: 16k

Warnings: Mention of death, some war flashbacks (nothing to graphic)

A/N: Believe it or not, this is what I call a story on the "shorter" side, lol. Also, I hit 700 followers and the number is growing, so for that: thank you so so much! I hope you enjoy this story, it's a little bit different from what I usually do when it comes to writing. Hopefully it won't disappoint. Please let me know what you think! I love your reactions 🥰

It had been three days since Sy got back home from his fourth tour and those days all went by in a blur. His parents picking him up from the airport flowed into eating his momma’s delicious food after those terrible rations and there is a possibility he might’ve slept for at least twenty hours straight.

His friends understood his need to acclimatize to San Antonio, Texas before hanging out. Every day they don’t see him though, just means they’ll go even more out out when they first see each other again.

‘Oh, darlin’,’ his momma says as they walk into the Oak, one of the most famous diners here. ‘I’m so happy that you’re here again. I always love it to show you off.’

‘I missed you too, momma.’ Sy wraps his arm around her shoulders and realizes he might’ve missed her more than he initially let in on. Back at the base he was all talk, saying how everyone shouldn’t be such babies and cry about how much they missed their families. The second however he saw his own momma when he got back on American soil, he nearly turned into a crying mess.

Emphasis on nearly.

The three of them sit in a booth, waiting for someone to take their orders. Nothing much changed around here, he thinks to himself. The loud noises, the smells and just the overall ambiance.

It’s like he never left.

One of the older waitresses says to them they’ll be helped in a minute and the blonde truly meant a minute, because not long after she left, someone else appears at their table.

Sy has zero recollection of her. Did she always work her?

‘Mister and mrs. Syverson,’ the beautiful waitress says with a smile, ‘what a surprise.’

He can’t detect an accent, meaning she probably isn’t from around here.

Momma holds the waitress’ hand into hers and says: ‘Darlin’, meet my son Luke. Luke, this is my favorite waitress here at the Oak, Rosemary.’

He holds out his hand and she places hers in it. Her hand nearly disappears in his and he is careful not to squeeze too tight, since she has quite a few rings on her fingers. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he says, ‘I’m Luke, but everyone calls me Sy, except my mom.’

Rosemary smiles as she shakes his hand. ‘I’m Rosemary, but everyone calls me Rose, except your mom.’ It’s obvious she is taking him in and she adds: ‘It’s nice to finally meet the infamous Captain Syverson. Heard a lot about you.’

That shouldn’t make a grown ass man blush, but it sure does anyway. Rosemary—Rose—is different than the gals around here. Not that the ladies who he grew up with are necessarily bad, but there is something quite different about this woman. Captivating eyes, deep dark brown hair and a lovely smile that makes his hearts to all sorts of somersaults.

Does this mean he has been on tour for way too long and he has missed female attention or that Rosemary is just the girl he always fantasized about when trying to sleep in the desert, making up scenarios that kept him going.

Dammit, how long does he know her? Thirty seconds, tops? He shouldn’t be hearing wedding bells already.

Rose pulls out the little notebook from her apron and asks: ‘How can I help the Syverson family today?’

She looks at his mom first, who wants some pancakes. Sy decides to order the same, because he is too flabbergasted to actually think about everything he saw on the menu he considered ordering. Rose averts her eyes from him to his dad and smiles at his old man. ‘The usual, sweetheart,’ he says with a friendly smile. His dad must really be keen on Rose, because he barely smiles at anyone like that.

‘And lemme guess,’ Rose says, ‘a cappuccino for the mrs., an espresso for mister Syverson and for the captain…’ Her eyes linger on him, as she bites her bottom lip, a hint of a playful smile still visible as she thinks about what kind of drink he fancies. ‘Either a beer or some water.’

Sy can’t stop his chuckle. ‘Beer is for after four in the afternoon,’ he says.

Rose simply shrugs. ‘Well, it’s four in the afternoon somewhere in the world.’

He can’t help but laugh a bit louder. She’s witty as well, he likes it. ‘Some water will do. thank you.’

‘Okido, coming right up.’

Sy watches her walk away, patting one of the older men around here on his shoulder, flashing him a beautiful smile of hers, before joking around a bit more.

‘She’s not from around here,’ Sy notes.

His momma nods. ‘She apparently moved here a few years ago,’ she says, ‘lives around forty minutes away from the Oak.’

‘She moved here for her fella,’ dad interrupts his momma. ‘Was also military.’ His father was a man of very little words—less than ten this time—but he always said enough.

He was speaking past tense, causing Sy to fear the most tragic outcome for a military relationship.

‘He died a year and a half ago,’ momma continues. ‘Poor girl, I cannot imagine what she went through. What was his name again?’

‘Brandon Mitchell,’ his dad answers.

Doesn’t ring a bell. Sy leans back in his chair. ‘Killed in action?’ he asks.

Momma nods. ‘Yes, he was in a different part of Iraq. I mean, I don’t know the details, but she had trouble moving away from here, because they got married, had a house here. She showed me a picture once: such a happy and beautiful couple.’

‘Must’ve been hard,’ Sy notes. He nervously moves his leg up and down, thinking about all those letters he had to write because young fellas were killed in action. He feared that one day his folks would get one. He knew the devastation. He’d seen it. He’d felt it.

Rose might be a magician, because she walks back with plates and a tray with drinks balancing on her arms. His dad grabs two plates from her left arm and places them in front of the right person. ‘This is why I love you, mister Syverson,’ Rose says, placing everything else on the table.

Momma holds Rose’s hand. ‘Darlin’, remind me again: where you originally from?’

‘Chicago, Illinois,’ she answers. ‘Why?’

‘Just wondering. My memory is not what it used to be.’

Rose smiles. ‘That’s okay. If you need anything else, then please don’t hesitate to let me know.’ She looks at Sy and he can see it: there is a lot of pain behind her eyes. She fabricates a smile on her face to mask it though. ‘Thank you for your service, captain.’

❃ ❃ ❃

Later that night, his friends have run out of patience, which is understandable. They’ve missed him, it became clear in their letters. When Sy arrives back home with his parents, all three of them are sitting on the porch. Hunter is the first one to jump up and with an illegal speed bumps into Sy. ‘Fuck me, did you just got a whole lot stronger?’ Hunter asks, mid hug.

Max and Zeke are quick to follow and Sy doesn’t want to admit it but: he missed his friends. He loves his comrades back in Iraq (though he’ll never admit it), but there is something different about these guys. They go way back: all the way back to kindergarten. It may be hard to believe now, but Sy used to be the smallest of the group, despite being the oldest. He was always the victim of their practical jokes. Thank heaves for puberty, because Sy outgrew all three of them in high school and was no longer the little one.

He was a captain in the making.

They didn’t join the military, all because they had academic careers to pursue. Zeke went to Harvard, Max went to Yale and Hunter to UCLA, leaving Sy back here in Texas.

Sy says goodbye to his parents, before walking off with his friends. It’s not ideal to still live with his parents, being able to afford a place for himself and all, but with the upcoming tours, he decided to wait with buying a house.

Maybe wait until he found someone. His significant other.

‘So, how was it with your folks?’ Zeke asks, as they are wandering over the empty road.

‘Was good. We went to the Oak,’ Sy says, actively trying not to think about the beautiful waitress again.

‘Oh, so you met Rosemary?’ Hunter chuckles.

How did he—

The guys all start to laugh at his astonishment he isn’t hiding well, like he usually does.

‘Your momma invited us over a few times while she was at the Oak,’ Max explains, ‘and you could say that she is absolutely smitten with Rosemary. I mean, all of our momma’s are actually. She apparently lived on the west part of town, still does, hence the reason we haven’t seen her around. I mean, I sure would’ve noticed here.’

‘She started working at the Oak a year ago,’ Zeke says. ‘She’s been quite the talk of the town ever since.’

Of course she is… Sy pushes his hands in his pockets, not quite knowing what to say, except getting inside his head. It must’ve been hard being a widow. Six months she spend grieving by herself, before she decided to start working at the Oak.

‘You know, I actually knew Brandon,’ Hunter says. ‘Okay, not like know know him, but I saw him around a few times at my uncle’s hardware shop, always boasting about his wife, how they were restoring his grandparents’ place. Great guy, shame what happened to him.’

Thankfully the guys decide to stop talking about Rosemary. That the woman keeps circling in his mind since the second he saw her is already bad enough. No need to add some fuel to the fire.

The four of them go to a bar downtown and all order a beer. It is after all four in the afternoon here and somewhere else. Sy chats a bit about what happened back at the base, but prefers not to talk about it too much, which his friends know and respect.

They always do.

The unbearable heat, the pain, the loud noises. It all flashes back in front of his eyes every now and then.

Thankfully Hunter is right there to distract him from the flashbacks, embarrassing himself singing at the karaoke. When Hunter sings a duet with an older lady, Sy notices his eyelids grow heaver. Not wanting to end the fun just yet, he decides to take a bit of a breather outside and tells his other two friends he’ll be right back.

With his second beer in his hand, he walks outside. Nights like this are his favorite. The bright stars, a huge contrast to the dark sky. Nothing beats the sky back here in Texas.

Sy lets out a content sigh and can’t help but smile.

He is home again.

Never in a million years did I expect to live in San Antonio, Texas. I was born and raised in Chicago and I always thought that place was my forever home. Until I lost my job and me and my friends decided to ignore our responsibilities and go road tripping. I could’ve known I would fall in love sooner or later, because that is such a Rosemary Hill thing to do.

I met Brandon in the first bar in Texas. Like almost all the bars here, you could ride a mechanical bull and if you could sit on it for a good thirty seconds, you’d win some sort of prize. I was tipsy enough to think I actually got a shot at winning that prize and miraculously enough, I didn’t fall off right away.

I managed to stay on it for a good ten seconds, before I was catapulted off onto the mat. I remember laughing, mainly to camouflage the slight humiliation I felt.

And then someone pulled me up.

He both looked handsome and adorable at the same time with his cowboy hat. I never pecked myself for someone who would fall in love for a guy who wore that type of hat, combined with a lumberjack blouse tucked into his jeans and some working boots. All my life had I been surrounded by men in suits of designer clothes.

However, I never felt this giddy feeling in my stomach about any of those men.

The guy smiled at me and asked whether or not I was okay.

I simply nodded, absolutely mesmerized by his beautiful light brown eyes. How could anyone be this gorgeous?

‘I’m Brandon, by the way,’ he said.

‘Rosemary, but you can call me Rose.’

That entire night we chatted away, drank a few drinks and eventually he brought me back to the hotel my friends and I were staying at.

The original plan was that my friends and I would leave Texas in a few days, but I couldn’t leave this place anymore. I couldn’t leave Brandon. I fell in love so quickly, it were tons of feelings mixed together that I had never felt before.

He showed me his grandparents’ place he was rebuilding for them. It was endearing to see how much he loved his grandparents, who raised him when his parents died when he was younger.

So I stayed. Though I knew nothing about rebuilding, I helped him out since I had nowhere to go and I just had to be with him. I knew he was in the military and I knew how rough that could be, but you know what they say: love makes blind.

With Brandon still here, he showed me everything. He showed me the beautiful places in San Antonio and despite the place being absolutely gorgeous, he said it could never be as breathtakingly stunning as me.

Right before his tour, he proposed to me, though we only were dating for three months. He promised me that when he got back, he’d marry me. So we did. He came back in one piece and got married at the tender age of twenty four. It was a small ceremony, just the two of us, our friends, his grandparents and my parents and two brothers.

After saying our “I do’s”, it took around three months before he had to leave again. It was the hardest goodbye I ever experienced in my life, but he told me that he would get home and that this would be his last tour. That we would start our own family together when he got back. Be the Mitchell Family.

It was indeed his last tour, just not the way I expected it to be.

Instead of the two of us being reunited, I had to bury him.

My entire life turned upside down. I became a widow at the age of twenty five and two weeks after I buried him, I was spending my twenty six birthday burying both of his grandparents, who died because of their broken hearts.

My friends and family told me to move back to Chicago, but I couldn’t. Everything that reminded me of my late husband was here. The apartment we lived in, the places we visited and his grave. I couldn’t leave that behind, go back to Chicago and start over like nothing had happened (despite everyone there insisting it would be in my best interest).

So, I stayed in San Antonio. I grieved here, I mourned here and spend my time in a town nearby, talking to other widows and widowers. They helped me to be able to not dwell in the hurt and sorrow, but to live my life like Brandon would want me to.

So after six months of intensively visiting support groups, talking to people about it, I got a job. Of course it was hard without Brandon, but this place feels like home.

More than Chicago ever did.

After a draining shift, I walk out of the diner towards my car. I cannot wait to actually be at home. I want a glass of wine and after the day I had, I wholeheartedly deserve that. But when I got in my car that is parked at the lot and I try to start it, the light blue beauty decides to just not start.

Really?

I lean back in the seat, already reaching in my bag for my phone to call someone. I get out of the car, trying to figure out how to pop the hood of this thing, but truth be told: I have no idea how it’s done.

‘Car trouble?’

The sudden deep voice late in the night causes me to get startled, but when I turn around, I can’t help but smile. It’s Captain Syverson, or as he introduced himself yesterday: Sy. ‘Is it that obvious?’ I ask with a smile.

He shrugs, trying to hide his amusement, but fails so miserably. ‘Maybe a little.’

‘Well, it won’t start and I can’t seem to pop the hood.’

‘Typical,’ he notes. ‘You can get the girl out of the big city, but never the big city out of the girl,’ he says with a smile toying on his lips.

I fake gasp, pretending that actually hurt my feelings. ‘Oh, aren’t you hilarious.’ I lean against the car and say: ‘You’re gonna keep making fun of me or are you gonna help me out and fix it?’

‘I can always try.’ He pops the hood with a certain ease that almost embarrasses me and checks the fuels and whatever is in there. I can’t help but look at Sy, especially at his buzzcut. It reminds me of Brandon, but unlike my late husband, Sy rocks a pretty thick beard along with it.

‘Try starting your car for me, if you will,’ Sy says and I get back in the car. I try to get it started, but it’s useless. The sorry sound the car produces is everything but promising. ‘Tricky,’ Sy mutters. ‘Think you need to call a tow to get to the garage.’

‘Really?’ I groan. ‘Great.’

‘I can call someone for you,’ Sy continues, standing in the door opening of the driver’s side. ‘I know a guy who works at both the towing company and owns a garage. He owes me anyway.’

I shake my head. ‘You don’t have to, Sy.’

‘It’s totally fine,’ he says, bringing his own phone to his ear. He walks around the door, to close off the hood of my car. I can hear him talking to someone, his thick accent even more prominent. While Sy is arranging something, I open the glove compartment to grab some stuff that the people in the garage don’t need to see. Some lady products, some cash for emergencies and—

A picture of Brandon and me.

It’s taken three minutes after we officially bought this car and the owner of the shop made a picture of us with his polaroid camera to celebrate the purchase.

I kinda forgot it was here.

The picture disappears into my own purse and I step out of the car at the same time Sy hangs up the phone. ‘He can tow it to the garage tomorrow,’ Sy says. ‘He is kinda busy now.’

‘Oh, okay,’ I say, locking the car after checking if I can leave it here without my personal belongings showing. ‘Then I’ll just start walking home. Thanks though for your help.’

‘I can offer you a lift.’

I smile and shake my head. ‘No, please, don’t bother. You already did plenty. I have two legs and I can use them, so…’ Sy lets his eyes wander over my legs, causing me to snap my fingers. ‘My eyes are up here, Cap, thank you very much.’

‘Excuse me,’ he says, not making eye contact, causing me to laugh. Never did I peck the captain for turning into such a shy mess. It’s kinda funny. ‘But please, let me offer you a lift. I know that in Chicago the independent woman trick works, but allow me to show you some Texan chivalry.’

I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it anyway. ‘Okay, sorry sir. Show me the way to your carriage.’

Sy chuckles. ‘It ain’t fancy, but it’ll bring you home.’

I could’ve known that he would drive a truck. Sy is a truck kinda guy and also someone too lazy to wash it. I think there is an inch of dust on it. He helps me in the truck and when he drives off, I can tell he is holding back a little.

‘Don’t mind me,’ I tell him. ‘Drive as you want. I can take it.’

Sy chuckles. ‘Lemme guess, you drive like the devil’s chasing ya.’

‘I do not,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m a lovely driver. If I were an Uber driver, I only would have five star reviews.’

‘Sure.’ He leans back in his seat, obviously thinking about the right thing to say. ‘Sorry ‘bout my momma.’

‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Your mom is lovely. An absolute dear. I think she might be one of my favorite customers along with your dad.’

‘Really?’ Sy seems genuinely surprised, almost like we’re not talking about the same woman. ‘It’s just that sometimes she can be a bit nosy.’

‘It’s okay, she means well. Your dad is also really sweet. If I didn’t know any better, I would actually think he is ready to adopt me.’

He starts to laugh, a deep baritone filling the car. ‘You might be right. He always wanted a daughter, but my folks had some fertility issues. I am basically a lucky shot.’

I never knew that. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear.’

He shrugs. ‘Well, thankfully for them, I’m a nice guy.’

‘That’s what you think.’

‘Watch your mouth,’ he snickers.

‘You should give them a great daughter in law,’ I say. ‘I don’t think you have to worry about that being an issue. You’ll find your special lady sooner rather than later. There is an entire line filled with women who want one date with the captain.’ I look out of the window, as the tension in the car thickens. That always happens when people know. ‘So,’ I say, ‘I take it that you know.’

‘Know what?’

A scoff escapes me. ‘Don’t play dumb on me, captain,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I can tell when people know about what happened.’ It doesn’t make it less painful, though, but I don’t do well on beating around the bush. I’d rather have all the cards on the table.

‘I’m sorry,’ he then says. ‘It’s just that I… I know how hard it can be to talk about it.’

‘Yeah,’ I whisper.

‘I bet you miss him.’

I snort. ‘Every single day. You know, sometimes there is this hope. That one day I’ll wake up and it was all a nasty nightmare and that he is still there.’

Sy doesn’t say anything right away, but maybe that’s because he is thinking about his own time back in Iraq. He must’ve lost some important people in his life too. ‘What was his name?’ he asks.

‘Brandon,’ I answer. I grab the picture from my purse and hold it to the side, so Sy can see it. ‘That’s him,’ I say, ‘after we bought our car.’

‘Is it that car in the lot?’

‘Yeah…’

Sy nods. ‘I’ll tell the guys from the tow and the garage to be extra careful with it.’

It’s such a simple gesture, yet it hits me deep in my heart. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, loud enough for him to hear it. I swallow hard, hoping I am not going to bawl my eyes out here in his truck. That would be such a lovely impression I’ll leave. ‘Really, it means a lot.’

‘Of course.’

I stare at the picture, a soft smile toying on my lips. I remember Brandon totally going out of his way to get the best car for the two of us. We spend around four hours in that shop, made at least five test drives with different cars when my eyes landed on the one I still own now. It was the light blue color that pulled me in like a magnet. Brandon caught me staring at it, before he sneaked up on me, wrapped his strong arms around my waist. ‘Why am I not surprised, miss “Can the bathroom tiles be baby blue, please?”.’

It was such a lovely day.

‘This is me,’ I say, pointing towards the blue home. Sy slowly breaks and comes to a halt. ‘Thanks for the ride. Do I need to do anything with the car?’

He shakes his head. ‘I’ve got this.’

We do swap phone numbers, give him the key of my car and with that I get out of the truck, after telling him not to get out. ‘Thanks again, Sy. I owe you.’

‘You don’t owe me anything, Rose. It’s all good.’

I flash him one more smile, before I close the door of his truck. I wave to him, before walking towards my house. Sy doesn’t leave, probably waits until I am inside.

My place is filled with memories and they start coming back to me right at the porch. I’d sit there, watching Brandon do some lawn work. I wanted to help him, but he told me that working in the burning sun wasn’t good for me. It wasn’t good for him either, but he was used to it, he always said to me.

When I open the front door and I’m inside, turning on some lights, I hear the truck pull up and drive off. I lean against the door, thinking about all the good memories I had with Brandon. Him bringing home dinner, him giving me a hug as he attempted to help me with making some snacks and him drawing me baths when I had one of those excruciating migraines. There were so many things he did and said that I loved about him.

I miss his touch, his kisses and the soft sweet nothings he would whisper in my ear.

My eyes land on one of the pictures and I hesitantly grab it. It was on our wedding day, our small wedding. I can’t believe it’s already been a year and a half years since he…

Left this earth.

Tears burn in my eyes and I walk to the living room, where I plop on the couch. Soft cries are now filling the living room. Not one hair on my head would’ve thought that this could happen to me. Sure, I saw it on the news and always felt for those families, but also thought that it could never happen to me. Then I started dating a man of the military, however I still thought that experiencing this type of loss was gonna happen in my future.

‘I miss you, Brandon,’ I whisper, leaning back in the sofa and hiding my face in my hands.

Since a few months, the days where it all hits me in the face with a bag of bricks are getting rarer, because I have given Brandon’s loss a resting place deep in my heart.

But today it’s one of those days again.

❃ ❃ ❃

I almost forgot my car was at the garage, mostly because my neighbor would give me a lift to the Oak, since it was on his route anyway. However, two days later when I’m standing in the kitchen, someone pulls up in front of my place. I peak out of the window, to see Sy getting out of the car.

Oh, there she is again, my beautiful car. I walk towards the door and smile widely when open it. ‘Captain Syverson, what a surprise.’

He chuckles as closes the door behind him. ‘I decided to be a real gentleman and bring you back your car.’ He throws the keys towards me and I catch them mid air. ‘Nice one.’

‘So tell me, how much do I have to pay?’ I ask him, as I approach him.

‘Nothing. It’s all on me, Rose.’

I glare at him. ‘Sy, please don’t do that. I can pay you.’

He nods and says: ‘I know, but see this as a little thank you for dealing with my parents, mainly my mom, when I wasn’t there. She cannot stop boasting about you. Think she is more proud of you than of me.’

‘Nonsense, she loves you a lot,’ I say to him. ‘She’s really proud of you. I think the moment I started working there till a day before you got back, you were all she was able to talk about.’ I cross my arms in front of my chest and say: ‘I wished my mom was like that.’

‘You’re momma ain’t proud of you?’

‘No, not when you have two academically gifted brothers.’ I hear my alarm go off back in the kitchen and say: ‘Oh shit, I’ve got something in the oven. I have to go, I’m so sorry, but I’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow, free food and drinks on me. Beer, espresso or a glass of water with whatever you want to eat.’

‘That’s not necessary.’

‘It is,’ I interrupt him. ‘But the offer only stands for tomorrow, so be there!’

He chuckles when I run towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow then.’

I hold up my hand and yell: ‘Thanks Sy, for the car.’

‘No problem.’

The fair wasn’t Sy’s idea. It was Hunter’s grand plan. Sy has been home for quite some time now, helping his folks with some yard work, while also hanging out with his friends and chatting his time away with Rose at the Oak. It has become a daily thing, where she tries to guess what he wants to eat and drink. She’s always right, because whenever she guesses something, he just says she’s correct, mostly because she starts to smile really wide and her eyes start to glimmer and the hurt disappears. It’s important for him to see that hurt dissolve, even if it’s for a few moments.

He saw that pain in her eyes, those tears and memories flashing through her mind when she was in his truck. He saw that picture of the two of them and they looked so happy. It pains him to know that behind every letter he writes, there is devastation. He always knew it, but he build a wall, making sure that it never got too close.

But with Rose, it does come a lot closer.

It is becoming painfully obvious to both him and his friends that he is developing some serious feelings for Rose. That’s why he can’t sit at the Oak with his friends anymore, though Rose never says anything about his not so subtle friends.

Does she even notice?

The loud noises, the flashing lights and the smell of cotton candy is around him everywhere. He watches Hunter trying to impress some lady, but he isn’t very successful in showing off, because she keeps laughing at him when he tries to shoot something. But maybe that’s his charm, because the woman isn’t walking away.

Zeke decides that enough is enough, because he walks up to the pair and give the poor fella some emotional support. That leaves Sy with just Max, who takes a sip from his beer. ‘So, when you gonna make a move on Rose?’

They have been avoiding the subject for at least an hour now, so it doesn’t surprise him that one or the other brought it up. Took him long enough. ‘I can’t, man.’

‘Why not?’ Max and Sy both sit down and lean against the backrest of the park bench. ‘It’s kinda obvious she doesn’t totally despise you. She always laughs at your stupid jokes.’

‘Tons of people do, because my jokes are good,’ Sy mutters. ‘Besides: I’m not going to talk about it anymore. She’s a widow, man. You can’t just assume she’s ready to date yet.’

Max can’t argue with that, because he simply nods. He has a grin on his lips, before he says: ‘Look, there’s your lady.’

Sy looks up—way too quickly—and sees Rose with two of her friends, who also work at the Oak. She looks different than she usually does at work. She swapped her jeans, the apron and black t-shirt with the Oak emblem on it for a tight floral dress, that accentuates her long legs. She’s quite a bit taller than her friends, hence the reason she probably doesn’t wear heels like the other two.

Rose runs her fingers through her black hair, holding a brown handbag in her hands. She looks around and her eyes land on Sy. She smiles widely when she notices him and waves.

‘Oh, look at that,’ Max chuckles, holding up his beer, as Sy holds up his hand. ‘Maybe we’re going too far by saying she likes likes you, but she definitely thinks you are a good friend.’

She does? Sy sure hopes she would. Rose excuses herself when a group of—utterly harmless—guys start to talk to them and walks over to Max and himself. ‘Captain,’ she says, ‘fancy seeing you here. Hi there, Max.’

‘Hi Rose,’ Max says. ‘You know, have a seat. I’ll see whether or not your friends could use some help.’ He gets up, leaving Rose and Sy by themselves.

Sy stands up, gesturing she should take a seat. He watches her sit down and smiles when when he takes a seat next to her.

‘You’re always such the gentleman.’

‘Raised well by my momma.’

‘Oh, I bet,’ she says with a beautiful smile, that only makes his heart race more. This crush thing is running outta hand. He feels like a teenager again, the way his stomach twists and turns in a good way whenever he is around her. He even dreams about her every single night. ‘So, any reason you didn’t come in today?’

‘Busted,’ Sy chuckles. ‘My momma needed some help.’

Rose tilts her head. ‘Is she okay?’

‘Oh, she’s fine, she just… Thought she could you know fix something herself, but kinda hurt herself in the process. She was trying to bake something.’

‘I see,’ Rose says, ‘well, if she needs anything, just let her call me. I think she has my number.’

Sy chuckles. ‘Ah miss Rose, you are too damn sweet.’

She simply shrugs, before taking a deep breath. ‘Want to do something here? Maybe win me a stuffed animal?’

‘What makes you think I can win you a stuffed animal?’

‘Training,’ she says. ‘I mean, you are going to be better than your friend Hunter over there. He is experiencing some severe trouble with the fishing, it’s almost getting pathetic.’

‘You can just say it’s pathetic,’ Sy says, already standing up. Rose follows his lead and together they walk towards one of the stands where he has to shoot little tins.

‘Ah,’ the guy behind the stand says, ‘if it isn’t mister Luke Syverson. I can see you are finally daring it again.’ He doesn’t even wait for an answer, because he turns to Rose—his eyes turning into heart eyes and he is not even hiding it, the son of a bitch—and says: ‘A few years ago, the captain came here as well, wanting to win something for a little girl whose dad couldn’t. Turns out he couldn’t as well.’ The man starts to laugh, causing Sy’s blood to boil.

Way to embarrass him.

‘Well,’ Rose says, not exactly impressed by what the guy is saying, ‘I think this’ll go splendid.’ She pats Sy on his underarm and says: ‘You can do it.’

He chuckles, but that is mostly to mask his slight awkwardness. ‘What do you want, sunshine?’

Rose smiles. ‘I want the giraffe.’

‘The giraffe comin’ right up.’ He grabs the toy pistol and holds it up. He is aware these things are rigged, so when the first shot goes astray, he needs to rethink his strategy a little bit. He moves the barrel a bit to the right, since the plastic bullets kinda went to the left. With that adjustment, he manages to shoot down all the tins.

The guy was right though, that a few years back Sy failed miserably, but he was different then. He wasn’t even a captain yet. He was filled with testosterone, wasn’t calm and had this desperate need to prove himself.

But that’s the past now.

‘Oh my, the captain did it,’ Rose squeals. ‘Kind sir, I’d like the giraffe second to the right, please.’

With a grumble, he hands Rose the giraffe and the two of them walk away from the stand.

‘You’re really amazing,’ Rose says. ‘You totally saw how the game was rigged and anticipated on that.’

‘You saw that?’ he asks in awe.

She nods. ‘Oh totally. I had an uncle, who worked at fairs. Honestly, I could’ve won the giraffe myself, but where’s the fun in that?’

Sy starts to laugh, patting himself on the chest. ‘You’re quite something.’

‘I like to surprise.’ Rose looks at the giraffe and asks: ‘What should I name him? I think he looks like a Sy, doesn’t he?’

His eyes land on the giraffe as well and nods in agreement, while he tries to keep his cool. ‘Yeah, he kinda does.’

Every minute he spends with Rose flies by, mostly because she is very easy to be around with. No tricks, no pretending, just her being her lovely self. She rolls her eyes, nudges his side every now and then when he is being an idiot and eventually manages to talk him into going on the ferris wheel. ‘Or is the brave captain Syverson afraid of heights?’ she teases him.

‘You’re walking on thin ice, missy.’

She pulls him with her to wait in line and after only a short wait, they step into the rickety cabs. The screechy noise it makes when he sits isn’t very comforting. Before they can put the shackles on their lap, he takes off his hoodie, leaving him only in his favorite red shirt.

‘Treating me on a strip tease?’ Rose asks with cocked eyebrows. ‘Captain Syverson.’ She pretends to fan herself with her hand.

He chuckles, before placing the hoodie on her lap. ‘Don’t want ya to flash anyone.’

She genuinely seems impressed, because she has a different type of smirk on her lips. There is something so effortlessly beautiful and gorgeous about her, he could look at her forever. ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘That’s very kind of you.’

The cab slowly goes up and they stop nearly at the top. ‘Wow,’ she says in absolute awe, ‘I’ve never seen San Antonio from this height.’

‘You never been into a ferris wheel here?’

She shakes her head, while a nostalgic smile paints her face. ‘No, Brandon always thought the cabs were unsafe. Didn’t want to risk it, because he claimed he had precious cargo with him.’ Sy witness as she chuckles, but he knows that chuckle. It’s a masking one. He can see her fighting the tears.

Sy wants to respond, but she beats him to it.

‘You know, you might have to miss me for a week at the Oak. My parents decided to pay me a visit and entertaining them when they’re here is like a full time job. The country life compared to the high class life they are used to, is quite a lot for them to take in.’

‘I see,’ he says, trying to hide his disappointment. A whole week of not seeing her at the Oak? ‘You and your folks don’t… Get along well?’

‘It depends, but this week will be filled with them trying to convince me that moving back to Chicago is the right thing for me to do.’ She lets out a snicker and says: ‘I’ve always been a bit different and there are times where they absolutely hate it. Goodness gracious, it makes me sound like the main character of some stupid coming of age movie. So sorry.’

He simply shakes his head, not accepting her apology. ‘How are you different?’

‘I went to college, helped companies with their advertisements, but that wasn’t where my heart was. I hated the lack of social contacts, compared to my two brothers, who both work in IT and barely communicate with anyone.’

‘You’ve got brothers?’ he says. ‘Nice.’

‘Well,’ she says with a shrug, ‘it’s okayish. They do what my parents want: get married, start a family while they are in Chicago, close to my parents. I get fired because what I was doing at my job was lacking, go on an impromptu road trip with my friends to Texas, fall in love, marry a military man and then become a widow all before I’m thirty.’ She shakes her head as she stares over San Antonio, while the soft breeze blows through her hairs. ‘They try to guilt trip me into moving back.’

‘You don’t owe them anything,’ Sy says, as this feeling of protectiveness is taking over. His parents would never do such thing.

‘I know, I know. Thankfully they are staying in an inn, because having them in my house would probably tempt me to maybe smother them with my pillow. Sy, this is maybe too much to ask, but can I hide at your place from time to time?’

‘Of course, our door is always open for you.’

She smiles. ‘Thanks.’ She manages to tear her gaze from the view, to look at the giraffe, blinking away her tears. ‘It’s just that when they are here, I miss him even more.’

Sy nods, understanding how she’s feeling. He watches how she hides her face in her hands. For a few moments he contemplates whether or not he should do it, but hearing her sniffle makes him push all the doubts to the side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and holds the giraffe in his other hand so it won’t slip out of the cab. ‘I understand,’ he whispers. ‘It’s hard.’

Rose leans against his broad body with her own, the contrast between them bigger and more noticeable than ever. ‘It went pretty okay these last few weeks,’ she says, ‘but the idea of my parents trying to pull me away from the place that I’ve come to love just makes it all come back.’

‘You don’t owe them anything,’ Sy says again, ‘remember that, okay?’

‘Yeah, thank you.’

‘You know, you can dump your parents with mine. I’ll tell my mom to put on her nonstop babble facade and your parents will flee Texas within twenty four hours. Mark my words.’

Thankfully she can laugh and hearing her giggle makes him chuckle as well. She dabs her tears from her cheeks and says: ‘I’ll keep it in mind, thank you, Sy. Really, thank you.’

❃ ❃ ❃

It’s been a few days since the fair and also since Sy last heard of Rose. She hasn’t asked him for his help and while he knows he shouldn’t be worried, he still is. He saw at the fair how only the prospect of her parents visiting was eating her alive and she said it herself: they are guilt tripping her into moving back to Chicago.

He wonders how she is.

Sy wanders around the streets, only to see the beautiful long legs of Rose. She sure knows how to accentuate them: the jeans shorts paired with the flats that match her top. He remembers her glare when he was staring at them.

Rose is looking at some flowers at the florist, while there are two people standing behind her. It doesn’t take the results of a DNA test to tell him that they are obviously her parents.

She must feel someone staring at her, because she looks up. Her smile grows wider and starts to wave at him. ‘Sy, hey!’

Okay, now he should go to her. He walks up to them and she mouths to him: ‘Thank you.’ She turns to her parents and says: ‘Mom, dad, this is my friend Sy. Sy, these are my parents. Roger and Chae-won.’

Her parents barely look at him and he receives a ‘you see what I’m dealing with’-look of Rose. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Sy says, trying to be the bigger person here, though he already is experiencing some issues.

Her mom simply nods at him and her dad doesn’t even spare him a glance. Who do these people think they are and how did they manage to have a lovely daughter like Rose?

He turns his attention to Rose, whose smile directed towards him makes all the anger and annoyance building up inside him disappear like ice in the sun. ‘Buying some flowers?’ he asks her.

She nods. ‘Was thinking about it. Does your mom like roses?’

Oh she’s bold, wanting to buy flowers for his mom, while her own is standing close by. ‘Only the yellow ones.’

‘Oh, she’s a strange one,’ she chuckles. ‘Can tell you’ve got that from her.’ She sticks out her tongue and adds: ‘I’ll buy your mom some flowers and—’

‘Rosemary, you wanted to have something to eat?’ her mother interrupts.

‘—maybe we can meet your parents at the Oak?’ Her eyes tell him the ‘please’ she is not saying out loud.

He thinks about the promise he made her in the ferris wheel. ‘Of course, they are already there, was actually going to meet them.’

‘Let me buy some yellow roses and we’re ready to go.’

❃ ❃ ❃

Rose is much more comfortable with Sy’s parents than her own, which tells Sy enough about her relationship with her parents. She pulls his momma into a hug, gives her the roses and even his dad is on the receiving end of Rose’s slightly desperate hugs.

His momma told him a few nights back that she invited Rose a couple times over, but she only accepted once. They kept saying how she is pretty closed off, barely spoke about her personal life. While his parents were slightly disappointed in themselves that they didn’t make Rose feel comfortable enough to share her personal life with them, it made him feel special, because he got to know her. He got a peak into her heart and figured out about what bothered her, including the slightly sour relationship she has with her folks.

Rose introduces his parents to her own and while Sy could barely muster up the politeness his momma taught him, his parents are themselves. His momma can’t shut up, his dad simply observes it all, while both are the prime example of the Texan friendly.

Rose walks towards the bar and takes a seat there, as she places her arms on the wooden table top, before dropping her head on them. ‘This is horrendous. It’s only been three days, but it feels like eternity already.’

Sy spend what? Fifteen minutes with them and that alone already felt like an eternity. ‘Your parents are quite something, indeed.’

‘Quite something?’ She starts to laugh. ‘They are awful and that’s not even bad enough to describe them. It was all: “Rosemary, you have to come back to Chicago” and “Rosemary, San Antonio is not a place for a woman like you” and “Rosemary, Brandon has been buried for a year and a half now, it’s time to go back home now”.’ She groans. ‘They don’t understand that this is my home now. It’s almost like they do not take into consideration that this is the place where I’m able to mourn and to accept the fact that my… my… that Brandon is never coming back.’

Sy can’t help but admire Rose, for being able to talk about her trauma in the way she does. He has learned that over the years, resulting in him being a tiny bit more open about it, but still, it’s hard for him. His parents barely know anything that happened back in Iraq, nor do his best friends.

But Rose can say what’s pressing on her heart, what’s bothering her and somehow is able to articulate well.

It’s a skill he’ll probably never master.

‘You know,’ he says, ‘you can take a break from if you want. Say that you have something to do.’

‘Like what?’

‘An emergency with a friend? Really, momma doesn’t mind, neither does dad. Besides, Hunter owes me one.’

She scoffs. ‘You can’t just hand the favors people owe you to me, Sy.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Come on, just act along, will you?’ He flashes her a smile, hoping that’ll make her say yes.

She starts to laugh. ‘Okay, captain, whatever you say.’

Sy and Rose slide off their bar stools and walk towards the table, where his momma is still talking and her parents are obviously bored. ‘Rose and I gotta go,’ he says, ‘Hunter really needs our help.’

Dad immediately gets that it’s fake, but he simply nods. ‘Say hi to Hunter from me, will ya, son?’

Sy simply nods and his momma sees this as a moment to distract Rose’s parents even more, because she starts babbling about how Sy and Hunter have been best friends since forever. ‘Oh, wait, I have a picture with me,’ momma continues and the two of them sneak away.

‘Oh my goodness, did you see their faces?’ Rose laughs once they’re outside. ‘That was absolutely hilarious. Thank you so much, Sy. I could use this break.’

‘Not a problem,’ Sy says, happy to see her a bit more livelier than a few moments earlier.

They arrive at her car and she lets out a sigh, as she probably thinks about her husband. He can see it in her eyes. Before he can think about it, the question leaves his lips. ‘Please forgive me if this is too intruding, but I was wondering if you ever see yourself with someone else?’

She nods. ‘It’s not intruding, Sy. I understand,’ she says in a soft voice and he can’t detect any form of annoyance or that she’s offended. ‘It’s a question I ask myself a lot. I really hope that I’ll find someone that I’m happy with. Brandon told me on our wedding day that if anything ever happens to him, I should find someone better than him. Have yet to find him, but I keep having hope. I kinda want a family one day and you sorta need two people for that.’

Sy nods, taking it all in.

‘Do you see it happening?’ she asks. ‘When your men die and their widows remarry? Have kids and all? Move on?’

‘It happens,’ he says. ‘It’s not easy, but it happens.’

Rose unlocks the car and mutters: ‘Thank the heavens.’

Thankfully my parents have packed their things and basically fled Texas. I think that if I were to spend one more minute with them, I might’ve killed them. Of course, I love my parents, but with their pushiness of wanting me back in Illinois, while I found my forever home, spending time with them is actually becoming unbearable.

I’m back to work at the Oak again and I see Sy and his friends Hunter, Zeke and Max sitting at their favorite table. I don’t know what it is about Sy, but I really like being around him. It’s just that he is so likable and easy to be around with. I can talk about everything when I’m with him. Maybe it’s because he is also in the military. Talking to him about losing Brandon, didn’t feel like I was sharing my sad sob worthy backstory, more like I was showing a part of myself no one had ever known before.

‘Howdy fellas,’ I say with a smile when I approach their table.

‘Finally, you’re becoming a real Texan girl,’ Hunter chuckles.

‘I’m learning, I’m learning.’ I pull out my little notebook and say: ‘Okay, you guys better want to order something. Lemme guess, a beer?’

‘While it’s definitely four in the afternoon somewhere,’ Sy says, ‘an espresso will do, sunshine.’

The nickname shouldn’t make my heart beat a whole lot faster, but it sure does. Is there a possibility that I… Like him? I quickly write down the rest of the orders and Hunter wouldn’t be Hunter if he didn’t suggest: ‘And how about a little bit of your time?’

‘In your dreams, lover boy,’ I say, smacking him in the back of his head with the notebook. ‘Be right back, boys.’

As I’m sitting at the bar, waiting for my friend and colleague Lottie to prepare the drinks, I feel someone looking at me. I peak over my shoulder, only to meet Sy’s eyes, who quickly averts them.

‘Oh look at that, it’s happening again,’ Lottie notes. ‘The handsome captain is drooling over you, the Rosemary Hill.’

‘Oh shut up,’ I say. ‘He is not—’

‘Into me,’ she interrupts me rolling her eyes. ‘Why is it so hard the believe that he does?’

‘What’s so hard to believe?’ the cook Harold asks.

‘That Syverson is into Rose.’

The cook smiles. ‘He is very into Rosemary,’ he says, before disappearing into the kitchen again.

I let out a sigh. Isn’t it fantastic that people I work with are thinking about the matter like this, and to make things even worse: are talking about this. ‘You done?’

‘Nope.’ She places the three drinks on the tray, as we’re still waiting for the espresso. ‘Really, Rose, I don’t understand. Why don’t you ask him out? What is stopping you?’

‘Well one: he does’t like me. Two: I am not asking him out, because I might be a bit more old fashioned than you think. And three: I made a promise to myself. Never a military man again.’

Lottie nods, understanding where I’m coming from and says: ‘Well, fair enough. The last reason though. I’m not too sure about the first one. Really, he likes you. It’s literally not even subtle anymore how much he is crushing on you.’

‘You done now?’

‘Almost. There is one more thing I want to say: it’s not bad to start dating him or at least develop feelings for him. You are doing great and you said yourself that Brandon wouldn’t mind if you started dating someone, maybe even something that would grow into more.’ She places the espresso on the tray and says: ‘That’s all and I will end it with that piece of wisdom. Here you go, sugar.’

I’m still a bit dazed with everything she said and I simply nod. ‘Thanks.’ I place the tray on my arm and walk towards the table, trying not to have Lottie’s words go to my head. ‘Okay guys, here you go.’ I give the guys their respective drinks and they all say a thank you.

Sy smiles and gives me something special: ‘Thanks, sunshine.’

I place my hand on his broad and strong shoulder, before I can even think about it. I gave him a hug a few nights back and this big tree of a man gives great hugs. ‘You need anything else?’

‘No,’ they all say. ‘Thanks Rose.’

‘Of course.’

When I step away from the table, it only takes a few seconds before Sy caught up with me. ‘Rose, please, wait up.’

I turn around, a little worried. Did I give them the wrong order? No, he ordered an espresso, that I didn’t mess up. My palms get sweaty. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothin’, I just have a question.’

‘Okay, ask away.’

Sy takes a deep breath, as his eyes dart through the Oak. ‘You want to do something tonight? With me?’

Lottie is gonna freak out if she hears about that. I hate that there is a possibility she is right, about both his side and my side. ‘Of course. What did you have in mind?’

Sy looks and acts like such a tough guy, but I see some cracks in his facade. He is relieved, but also a little bit nervous. ‘Drive in theater?’

‘You want to go with me to a drive in theater?’ I start to beam with excitement. ‘Wow, I would love that. Very original, captain.’

He cocks an eyebrow, before he chuckles. ‘You really want that?’

I nod. ‘Of course, I’d love to. It’s been a hot minute since I did that.’ I can already feel this thing bubble up deep inside of me. It’s a familiar feeling, however.… I can’t let that happen. ‘As friends,’ I quickly tell him. ‘Strictly as friends, Sy.’

He frowns, but then he nods in understanding. ‘Of course. As friends.’

❃ ❃ ❃

For someone who is going out with a friend, I sure as hell take a lot of time perfecting my appearance for it. The midi yellow dress with small flowers on it, paired with some white sneakers will have to do it for tonight. I curled strands of my hair to create some beach waves and my make-up is light, with some pink lipstick and nude colored eye shadow.

I walk downstairs to pack my purse, when I pass a few pictures of me and Brandon. One of the pictures was taken by my Chicago friends, when Brandon hoisted me up after I was launched off the mechanic bull. The other pictures are from our dates within the first three weeks of dating. Restaurant, coffee dates and long walks through parks and the city.

‘I’m going on a date,’ I whispers, ‘just as friends. Obviously. I know you said I had to move on if something ever happened to you, but it’s so much harder than I originally thought. I actually think you’d like him.’

I grab one picture of the wall, one that is just of him. I made that picture on the night before our wedding. I can’t stop smiling at the picture and after I dabbed some stray tears away, the doorbell rings.

Quickly I place the picture back on the wall, grab my purse and rush to the door. ‘Hi,’ I say with a smile.

‘Hey sunshine,’ Sy says, ‘you ready?’

‘I’m as ready as I can ever be.’

Sy helps me in his truck, before he gets in himself. ‘Okay, so I’m sorry about the movie choice, but it’s Speed. There wasn’t another and—’

‘You mean Speed with Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, also the masterpiece of the 90s?’

He frowns. ‘Yes, that one. I take it that you don’t mind?’

‘Mind? Sy, we’re going to watch Keanu Reeves on a big screen. That I would never mind: it’s a treat for the eye.’ I clap my hands in excitement and say: ‘I mean, you’ve got Sandra Bullock to look at, while I’ll drool over Keanu Reeves.’

‘I’ll make sure to hydrate you from time to time.’

I nudge his side. ‘Shut up.’

‘I brought snacks by the way. I wanted to bring some chocolate, but I was afraid it would melt, so I got chips, some salty snacks and drinks. I heard there is an ice cream stand there, I can buy you something, if you want.’

‘Is that even a question? You can always buy me ice cream.’ I lean back in the seat and take a deep breath. ‘So, what did you do for the rest of the day?’

‘Just hanging with the guys,’ he says.

‘When are you going back?’

‘In two weeks,’ he answers. ‘I got a couple of weeks extra.’

I nod. ‘You’ll be missed,’ I admit. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen your parents this happy in the time I’ve known them.’

Sy chuckles, but that’s more to mask the hurt. He always puts on such a brave face, but I know he is in pain. He just buried it deep. ‘I know.’

‘Do you have ambitions to always be in the military?’ I ask.

He slows down the car, as we’re all getting in line for the drive in theater. ‘I don’t know.’ He sighs deeply as his fingers drum on the steering wheel. ‘I don’t want to, but it’s the only thing I know.’

I barely seen Sy so vulnerable. Usually it’s him listening to my sorrows, but now it’s the other way around.

And that does things to my heart.

‘You have skills, Sy,’ I say. ‘Plenty. I mean, you’re a natural leader, you can detect danger from a mile away and you’re brave. I think there are plenty of working fields that can’t wait for you to join.’

‘Like what?’

‘With your driving, you could drive an ambulance, or just become a police officer.’ I gasp when I realize something. ‘No, wait, you should become a firefighter. That is such a job for you. One time, like a few months ago, there was a gas leak in my street and they were so sweet and swift. I got to ride along the truck to a hotel for the night. Two days later, they came to have dinner at the Oak, recognized me and told me all the specifics about the gas leak. I think you’d be perfect for that.’

Sy nods. ‘You know, I’ll think about it.’ He receives two tickets from the man in the orange vest, who tells us where we can park. ‘What about you?’ he asks, driving slowly towards our destination. ‘You want to continue working in the Oak?’

‘I kinda want to. It’s such a lovely place and I finally get to do something I really enjoy. It doesn’t pay quite well as my previous job, but the interactions, the jokes and the people really make up for it.’

Sy smiles. ‘You’re probably my favorite waitress,’ he says. ‘Guess it runs in the Syverson genes.’

❃ ❃ ❃

Time spend with Sy is absolutely lovely and goes by so quickly, because we’re having so much fun. I’ve never been this long with him one on one. I mean, he helped me with my car, we sat in the ferris wheel together at the fair, but this is different. While I specifically wanted this to be two friends together, it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like my first official date with Brandon.

The jitters, the nerves. It’s all present.

And I hate myself for it.

The movie is all finished, but Sy and I are still talking in his car. He has been mindlessly driving around, as we share stupid stories about when we were younger. It turns out he was quite the dare devil as a kid, always doing slightly stupid stuff, however, according to Sy himself, he totally outgrew that.

‘Shame your hair’s gotta go,’ I note. ‘I really like the slightly longer hair. Never knew you had curls.’

‘I’m full of surprised.’

‘I’ve always wanted curls,’ I say, ‘but it wasn’t in the stars for me.’

‘You’ve got some curls,’ Sy says, as he stops in front of my place.

‘Those are made with a curling iron, Sy,’ I chuckle. ‘My hair is as straight as a piece of paper.’

‘Well, it suits you,’ he says with a shy smile.

I turn to the side, so I can look at him a little better. Sy unbuckles his seatbelt and copies my moves. Despite it becoming dim outside, I can still see his beautiful features.

Am I falling for him?

I made a promise to myself, never a military man again, however… That was before I met Sy. I heard a lot about him, but that was mainly from his mother. Of course she would boast about him, so I felt like she was very biased, but meeting him and getting to know him…

It made me feel things I haven’t felt in so long.

I bite my lip, our eyes linking. ‘What?’ I ask him.

He shakes his head. ‘Nothing, just… You look beautiful.’

Oh no, that is totally making my face heat up and my stomach do all sorts of gymnastic tricks.

The entire mood in the truck is changing. There are so many things I’m thinking about. Feeling his lips on mine, actually moving on… It feels like betraying Brandon, but on the other hand it also feels right. Especially because it’s Sy.

Sy leans in closer and he is a few inches apart from my lips when panic is taking over and I push him off of me. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask him.

He starts to stammer. ‘I’m sorry, I thought… I thought it was okay.’

‘You thought, Sy,’ I say, my tone a lot angrier than I intended. ‘You cannot just kiss me.’

He runs his hand over his short hairs. ‘Why not? Didn’t you feel what I felt?’

Yes. I clench my jaw, as break our eye contact. ‘I can’t do this. I mean, I like you and I think I like you a whole lot, but we can’t happen.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, Sy, I can’t lose you too,’ I snap. ‘I can’t have you going back to Iraq, while I wait here, praying you will come back alive. Receiving a phone call, a letter and attend a funeral? Burying someone I so deeply care about? I cannot go through that again. Not as your girlfriend at least.’

Sy sighs deeply.

‘I finally managed to give Brandon a place in my heart, but I will not get into something, with a possibility to redo the entire traumatic event. I’m not doing that.’

‘I understand,’ he says. ‘I’m very sorry, Rose, I totally overstepped.’

I have no idea what to say to him anymore, so I simply nod. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.’ I get out of the truck and without looking back I walk towards my porch and open the door. When I close the door behind me, tears roll over my cheeks.

I slide to the floor and deafening cries fills my house. Why does it have to be so hard? Why is moving on so damn difficult? I thought that when I would fall for someone, it would be the real deal, but of course I fall for someone in the military again.

My phone peeps and I let out a yelp, before checking my screen.

Sy: I’m so so sorry, Rose. I shouldn’t have done that.

Sy: Please forgive me.

I take a deep breath and wipe away my tears, before I type something back to him.

Rose: It’s okay

But is it really though?

Sy made the biggest mistake he ever could’ve made. He regrets overstepping all sorts of boundaries, he regrets following his heart, thinking it was the right choice. Does he have that poor of an instinct or is it only because this is different than a war zone? This is his personal life, maybe he is an idiot in that department.

He has had girlfriends, but whenever shit got too serious, he was the one to break it all off, because he was afraid. Now he thought he finally met the woman of his dreams and he screws up big time.

He actually doesn’t want to go to the Oak anymore and somehow managed to not go for an entire week. But the moment he has to leave for Iraq is drawing closer and closer and his mom is forcing him to go, especially because he is leaving tomorrow. She is insisting on having one more meal at the Oak with him, his dad and his friends.

And dining at the Oak means seeing Rose.

Only his friends know about the date he and Rose had—as friends—and they also know how much he screwed up.

Together with his folks, Hunter, Zeke and Max, he sits down at their favorite table. Rose walks up to them and in a cheery voice she asks: ‘Good afternoon everyone, what can I get you?’

Sy however can jab right through that fake cheeriness. He is totally making it awkward for her and he hates that.

As everyone is ordering and she writes it all down, he cannot tear his eyes from her. She looks effortlessly beautiful today, but when doesn’t she? ‘Sy?’ she asks. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘Yes, an espresso and an omelette, please.’ The nickname ‘sunshine’ nearly escapes his lips, but he holds it in. No need to make it more awkward.

She nods and that’s the moment his momma takes ahold of Rose’s hand. ‘It’s his last day. Tomorrow he’s leaving.’

‘Oh,’ Rose says, looking at him immediately. Something’s changing in her eyes, but he can’t seem to detect what exactly it is. ‘I see. Well, make sure you tell me when you leave.’ And with that she walks away to get their orders in.

Time passes by slowly and while his momma cannot stop talking, he barely is listening to her. It’s Zeke who nudges him and manages to break him away from his thoughts. ‘You okay, man?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Sy mumbles, but in all honesty, he isn’t. He hasn’t felt this bad in ages. He runs his hand over his freshly shaved buzzcut and sighs. ‘What do I say to her?’ he then asks. ‘When I tell her goodbye?’

‘You let her talk,’ Zeke tells him. ‘It’s important to know what she has to say, okay? When the time is right, tell her that you’re sorry.’

He excuses himself from the table after they paid and walks over to Rose, who sits at the bar, enjoying her break. ‘Hey,’ he says.

She looks up with a smile. ‘Hey Sy.’ She places down her phone and turns sideways. ‘So, you’re leaving tomorrow?’

He nods. ‘I am.’

Rose bites her lip and places her hand on his arm. ‘Sy, listen, I am so sorry for… For what happened in the car.’

He shakes his head. ‘No, if there is someone that needs to apologize, it’s me, Rose. I had no right doing such thing.’

She slides off the barstool and wraps her arms around his shoulders. He pulls her tightly against his body, and buries his face in her shoulder. ‘I’ll miss you, Sy,’ she tells him. ‘Just make sure you’ll come back.’

‘I’ll make sure of that,’ he says, tears burning in his eyes. Never was saying goodbye so hard, but it sure is when he has to say it to her. Never in his life did he feel so alive, so seen.

Rosemary Hill sure changed his life forever.

When she pulls back from the hug, she holds his face in her hands and sighs, before letting go of him completely. ‘Be careful out there.’

He nods. ‘I will.’

❃ ❃ ❃

It has been a few weeks since he left San Antonio and exchanged his home town for Iraq. Sy already received multiple letters from his mom, a care package from his dad and some gifts from his friends. Secretly he hopes that one day he’ll get a letter from Rose.

He really wants a letter from her. He misses her so much.

Sy has been thinking about what she said: about him joining the fire department. It would mean he’s closer to his family, his friends and closer to her. Rose told him she liked him, meaning that one day she could give him a shot. Give him the opportunity to show her that he can treat her right. Treat her the way she deserves.

And if that means that this is his last tour, then so be it.

‘Yo captain,’ he hears from behind him. ‘You got a package. They really miss you at the home front.’ He receives the package handed to him and when he opens it, he sees it’s…

Sy the giraffe.

The same stuffed animal he won for Rose at the fair. He grabs the letter out of the box and opens it, her neat handwriting all over the page.

Sy would be lying if he said that the letter did him nothing, because it does all sorts of things to him. He dabs his eyes dry and stands up, rereading the letter over and over again. She likes him, that’s the most important thing in it, but he shouldn’t forget that she’s scared as well.

He understands. If he were in her position, he’d be scared too.

❃ ❃ ❃

Weeks have gone by and Sy finally is able to call home. He has a few minutes to call one person. Normally he’d call his momma or one of his friends, but now he dials a different number. One he knows by heart.

‘Hello,’ he hears from the other side of the line and his breathing stops for a second. Sy missed hearing Rose’s voice. After her letter, he send one back. Telling her that he understands, that she should only do things when she is ready for it and when she is, that he’ll be right there waiting.

‘Hey Rose, it’s me,’ he says. To clarify—even though he probably doesn’t have to—he adds: ‘Sy.’

It stays eerily quiet from the other side of the line. He is afraid she hung up, but then she says: ‘Sy… How are you?’

‘I’m better now that I’m hearing your voice,’ he says. ‘I missed you.’

He hears her chuckle from the other side of the line. ‘I missed you too. I just got your letter today.’

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘Oh.’ That shouldn’t make him doubt this much, yet it does.

And then he hears a sniffle come through from the other line. Oh no, Rose is crying and he isn’t there to comfort her.

‘Rose? Are you okay?’ he asks. ‘Sunshine, please talk to me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she hiccups. ‘It’s just that… It’s so hard. Being on this side of the line again, especially with the way we said our goodbyes.’

‘No, no, please don’t say that. It’s okay. It’s all okay, sunshine. Don’t feel bad about it.’

‘But how can’t I feel bad about it? I pushed you away, Sy. I let you go to Iraq without telling you that… That I… That I’m falling in love with you.’

That takes him by surprise. ‘What?’ he asks. ‘You are?’

‘Yes and it’s scaring me. The whole falling in love again, especially because it brings back all sorts of memories. I know that one day I have to move on and I… Oh my goodness, I can’t say it. I’m sorry, Sy. I’m so sorry.’

And with that she hangs up.

❃ ❃ ❃

Sy is happy to touch American soil again. It has been a long couple of months, especially after that phone call with Rose. It was the last time he spoke to her. He didn’t receive a letter, he didn’t dare to call her again and the only thing that he has from her left is her first and only letter and Sy the Giraffe.

The giraffe plushie is securely packed in his bag and he steps out of the plane. Walking that distance from the plane to the ever-growing crowd. He sees his parents and he starts walking a little bit faster. Momma pulls him into a tight hug and starts to cry, like she always does. ‘I missed you, darlin’. Oh, have I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ Sy pulls his dad into a tight bear hug. The three of them walk towards the parking lot, his momma telling him all the things he needs to help her with. He starts to laugh at her, because he truly missed her a lot.

When they reach the parking lot, he starts to frown. Is that…

It has to be.

One, it’s the same light blue car she owns and two, those legs he recognizes from anywhere. He hands his bag to his dad, before walking up to her. ‘Rose?’ he asks.

She nearly jumps when she hears his voice, too much into her own thoughts. Hastily she pushes her hair out of her face. ‘Sy,’ she says in a breathless tone.

‘What are you doing here?’

My entire brain has been a mess the day I said my goodbyes to Sy. I had no idea how much impact him leaving would have on me, but it isn’t surprising. It brought back all sorts of memories, of me and Brandon, but also the moments Sy and I had shared.

Not seeing him with his parents or just by himself in the Oak, felt like such a void in my days. These passed few months have been so rough on me.

First I thought I made the right decision, but then I wandered around my house and found the letters Brandon wrote me. All those memories, those sweet words he wrote me, as an answer to everything I wrote him.

So that’s what made me write a letter to Sy and I got one back. I couldn’t believe he send me one back. That feeling of euphoria when I received that letter, was quickly accompanied by a phone call that haunts me to this day.

After that, time has been going by so super slowly and despite my best efforts to forget about it, put it all behind me, I have been thinking about him non stop. Did I just make it worse or is it for the best?

His parents however kept inviting me and I continued to accept, maybe because that was the closet to Sy I could get. Hearing all those stories about him and what he was like when he was younger, plus seeing those pictures about him, made it all a little bit easier, but harder at the same time.

If that makes sense at all.

So, I decided to go back to that support group I went after I buried Brandon, met up with Claudia, who leads the group and sat down with her. I told her everything, from start to finish and she simply nodded, had a question here and there and asked me if I wanted advice or not. Thankfully she did ask me that, because I was too afraid to ask her for some well needed advice.

‘Honey, you need to stop getting into your head, because it’s causing you to be in a downward spiral,’ she told me. ‘Also tell me and be honest with me: are you falling in love with Luke Syverson?’

And the answer was yes.

I was falling in love with Sy.

I had a lot of unused vacation days, so I took all of them and spend my time at either the cemetery or at my place, thinking about moving on, then hesitating, then crying a little bit and then thinking about Sy or Brandon again.

My brain is fried, everything in there is scattered.

But I’ve come to one conclusion: I am in love with Luke Syverson. So in love.

And now I’m here again. At the airport. Deep down I want to join the rest of the crowd, the rest of the happy families who are awaiting their loved ones. It’s just that I can’t. Nausea is taking over and I nearly puke all over the parking lot. I can’t do this, it’s too much for me.

‘Rose?’ I hear the familiar voice behind me.

With lightening speed I turn around and it almost makes my head spin. ‘Sy,’ I manage to say.

‘What are you doing here?’

Don’t you dare turn into a nervous mess, Rose, don’t you dare. But the fact that Sy looks so handsome in his uniform isn’t helping.

‘I’m so sorry,’ is the first thing that rolls out of my mouth. ‘I actually wanted to wait for you right there, but when I got out of the car, I got a severe case of paralyzing nerves and painful memories and I didn’t want you to see me holding my own puke in my hand, so I decided to wait here. But then I freaked out again and… Oh no, I’m babbling, just like your mom. No offense, by the way. Your. mom is really sweet and what I said was pretty mean. I’m sorry.’

He takes off his cap, pushing it in his pocket. ‘Sunshine, what are you doing here?’

Oh, I missed that nickname. ‘I wanted to say I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t have hung up on you like that. It’s just that I started bawling like a baby when we were calling and I felt all these emotions build up…’

He shakes his head. ‘You don’t have to apologize for that.’

‘Sy, I was’t lying over the phone. I am in love with you. All the things you did for me pre tour, the fact that you are here, the stories your mom told me, made me realize that you are worth it all.’

He takes a step closer and says: ‘If you are not ready to date, then I understand, Rose. It’s not easy losing your husband and moving on. I get that.’

‘But I want to move on, I am ready to move on, Sy,’ I whisper. ‘I thought about it long and hard, I spoke about it with Claudia and I realized that I want to date you. Slowly, sure, but I do want us to date. I want to support you and be there for you when you’re going back on tour and when you arrive home again. It won’t be easy for me, for us, but I want to try it with you because… Because you deserve someone here for you and moving on with you is the best thing that has happened to me in a while.’

‘Aren’t you in luck then,’ he says with a smile. ‘Because I’m here to stay.’

That must’ve been a hallucination. ‘Wait, what?’

‘This was my last tour. I thought about what you said and maybe it’s time for me to change careers. I never imagined myself in the military until I retire, but I just continued doing what fit in my comfort zone. The military is the only working place I’ve known, but I have finished my obligatory tours and… I need to be here in San Antonio, with my folks, my friends and you.’

I smile, as tears of happiness burn in my eyes. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he confirms. ‘I already had my mom send my credentials over to the fire department and they want to meet me next week.’

I let out a laugh out of both joy and disbelieve. I was willing to go through the pain of missing someone important, to writing letters and calling, but that’s all history. He is going to be right here. Right here with me in San Antonio. ‘Sy, this is unbelievable.’

He chuckles. ‘It sure is.’ He clears his throat, clearly wanting to ask me something. ‘Can I hug you?’

I don’t answer that question. I simply launch myself in his arms and he lifts me up as he pulls me in a tight embrace. ‘I do want to take it slow,’ I whisper.

‘And that’s okay,’ he tells me. ‘Rose, I understand that you want to take your time, but remember: I am in no rush.’

I bury my face in his neck. ‘Thank you, Sy. Thank you for coming back.’

❃ ❃ ❃

Sy and I have been on many dates since he arrived home a few weeks ago. He usually picks me up from work, but today is a little bit different because I am going to pick him up from the base. He has been working there for four weeks, still in the orienting phase of his job, but so far he is absolutely loving it.

I park the car across the street and wander over to the fire station. Igni the Dalmatian runs towards me and I quickly grab the snacks I bought specifically for her from my purse. ‘Igni, sit,’ I say and without missing a beat, she does what I tell her to do. I give her the little snack, a peck on top of her head, before I make my way towards the entrance.

‘Rosemary Hill is in the house!’ Johnny, one of Sy’s colleagues yells the second I enter, followed by a loud applause.

‘Shut up,’ I chuckle, but that doesn’t stop the guys. It only makes them give me a standing ovation.

‘Okay, quiet now,’ Sy’s loud voice interrupts the applause. ‘Don’t you look at my lady,’ he says, smacking some kid on the back of his head. It’s always funny to show up here, because I think I can see a bit of the Captain Syverson from the military. Strong, tough and no nonsense. A total one eighty compared to how he is to me.

‘Look at the captain,’ one says, ‘showing off, trying to impress his woman.’

‘No need to. I’m already impressed,’ I say with a smile.

Sy actually still flexes his arms a little, but it’s not really necessary: his shirt perfectly accentuates them, as it is a bit on the tighter side. His smile grows wider the closer he gets and he holds out his hand for me to take. ‘Ready?’ he asks, pressing a kiss on my knuckles.

‘I sure am. Bye guys!’

‘Bye Rosemary,’ they say, almost sounding like a class full of kindergarteners. Sy clears his throat and they quickly add: ‘Bye Captain, see you tomorrow.’

‘I still can’t believe they call you Captain here,’ I say with a smile, when we pet Igni one last time, before making our way to my car.

‘Well, they asked me to introduce myself, so I did.’

‘As Captain Syverson, you are unbelievable.’ I want to open the door of the driver’s side and get in, but Sy is quick to stop me. ‘What?’ I ask him.

‘I’m driving,’ he says. ‘Come on, you know I absolutely adore you, but there is one thing you are not good at and that is driving.’

‘I drive perfectly fine,’ I defensively say. ‘I’m an excellent driver. You’re just the world’s worst passenger.’

He smiles, before he boops my nose with his finger. ‘I am not,’ he tells me. ‘Please, just let me drive.’

‘Fine,’ I groan, handing him the keys. ‘You want to open my door for me as well?’

‘Always,’ Sy chuckles, walking around the car with me to open the door on the passengers side

Once we’re seated and strapped in our seatbelts, he drives away and he places his hand on my leg. It took me a while before I liked it. A lot of things took a while for me to enjoy. However, once Luke Syverson holds your leg as he drives, you can never go back.

‘Where are we going?’ he asks me.

‘The place with the best view,’ I say with a smile. ‘Because I thought you and I could go on a picnic. Take a right here.’

‘I’d love a picnic,’ he says.

‘And don’t you worry, I brought food, snacks and drinks.’

He searches for my hand and once he got ahold of it, he brings it do his lips, pressing a soft and gentle kiss on it.

We’ve been taking it slow and I absolutely love him for it, though I haven’t said it in those exact words to him.

We arrive at a remote place with a great view (if not the place with the best view) and while Sy gets the baskets with food and drinks, I place down the checkered blanket on the grass and wait for him to join me. ‘Harold made these,’ I say with a smile. ‘I hope you like it.’

‘I know I will, sunshine.’

Sy tells me all about his day, before listening to mine. Usually after work, the two of us sit on my porch, talking about all the things that happened, but it’s nice to have a change of scenery.

‘Your back hurting, sunshine?’ Sy asks me, when I try to stretch it a bit.

‘Yes, a little,’ I mutter. ‘Sitting here on the grass isn’t helping.’

‘You can sit here,’ he says, patting the spot in between his legs. ‘I can be your back rest.’

A few seconds go by, before I decide I actually want that. I push myself up and sit in between his thick thighs. I lean back against his chest and let out a content sigh. This is nice. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘You sure you don’t mind?’

‘I’m sure,’ he says, placing his chin on top of my head. ‘I can take it.’

Of course he can. ‘Sy,’ I say, ‘can I tell you something?’

‘Always.’

‘I think I love you.’ I have thought about it for so long, but never did I say these three words out loud to him. I love you. I remember when I said it to Brandon for the first time, I was a sweaty mess, mostly because it was my first time saying I love you to someone.

Though it’s not my first time anymore, I still have some nerves, the jitters and the fear of rejection.

‘I’m beating you then,’ Sy says, ‘because I know I love you.’

I turn around with a smile. ‘You do?’

‘Oh, one hundred percent positive, sunshine.’ He places a rough hand on my cheek. ‘I love you a whole lot, Rose. You were the one that pulled me through during my last tour and for that I forever owe you.’

I smile. ‘Sy, I am the one that should do the emotional speech where I thank you. You are the one that allowed me to feel something again. To love again.’

He pulls me closer and places his forehead against mine. ‘Guess we were there for each other when we needed it the most.’

I place my hands on his broad chest. ‘Is my captain getting sentimental?’

‘Maybe,’ he smiles, slightly rolling his eyes. ‘Dammit, Rose, I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ I chuckle. ‘You should kiss me.’

He nods. ‘I can do that,’ he says. ‘You won’t reject me?’

‘No, of course not. I used to be afraid, but I’m not anymore.’

Sy smiles and gives me a short peck on my lips. Then another one and another one, before pressing his lips firmly on mine. I melt against his frame, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. It’s weird, kissing someone else, but it’s not that weird I need to stop. Taking my time with Sy was the best thing I could’ve done, because I now know I won’t ever regret it.

Never in a million years.

one year later

Today was absolutely grueling. There was a fire at the paper factory and it seemed never ending. Sy’s glad when he stops his truck in front of his girlfriend’s house. He sees Rose crouched down in the yard, planting and potting something.

It’s one of her newest hobbies.

‘There she is,’ Sy says, as he gets out of his truck, ‘my beautiful lady.’

Rose starts to laugh and stands up. ‘My handsome fire fighter. Shit, that uniform never bores me.’ She sticks out her hands and he quickly walks up to her, holding them in his. ‘How was work today?’ she asks. ‘I heard about the fire.’

He nods. ‘It was okay. There were no victims, so that’s all good.’ He pulls her closer to give her a kiss, but he notices a slight change in her demeanor. She isn’t relax, though it was her day off today. ‘Darlin’, what’s on your mind?’

She sighs deeply. ‘Tomorrow it’s Brandon’s birthday.’

Despite never gotten to know Brandon, he is a pretty big part of their lives. There are some pictures around and every now and then she starts to talk about him. Reminiscing about the things that made him unique to her. It happens at the most random moments. When they are in the grocery store during Easter time, she tells him about the time Brandon hid eggs around the neighborhood and pretended to be the Easter Bunny for the kids. When there is a movie on tv and it was one of his favorites, she’ll tell Sy Brandon’s favorite scenes. Sy now watches baseball because that was Brandon’s favorite sport.

Sometimes Sy almost thinks that he knows Brandon. That they were friends, but that’s just because she talks about him in a way that it seems like they’ve known each other for a long time. Because of her openness, he is able to share more about his time in Iraq. Sharing about the men he lost, what he had seen there and how every bullet he fired, ate a bit away of his heart.

‘I see,’ Sy says. After the fire it slipped his mind. ‘What do you want to do tomorrow?’

‘Kinda want to visit his grave,’ she says. ‘Want to go with me?’

‘Of course, of course.’ Sy went with her to visit his grave a little while ago. It was the first time he actually went to the graveyard. He had never been there before, but it went well that day. The weather was nice, Rose told him more stories and he listened on her talking to the stone, to Brandon.

The liberation she has into talking about the matter is a good example for him and he can learn a lesson or two from it.

‘Sy,’ she says in a soft tone, causing him to snap out of his thoughts. ‘Can you give me a hug?’

Without wasting a second, he wraps his arms around her waist. ‘Always,’ he says and she holds him close to her body.

They’ve been growing as a couple, making steps couples usually take in their relationship. Slowly but surely they are mentioning marriage, some pets and kids. It’s not a lot, but they are definitely taking a lot more steps than before.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ she says, ‘do you want to move in with me? I mean, you’re here all the time anyway and I kinda like having you around.’

‘Oh, would I love that,’ Sy says, squeezing her tighter against his body. ‘Just tell me whenever you want me to start packing.’

‘I was thinking later this week,’ she says with a smile. ‘I mean, you still live at your parents place. Packing will be done in a second. You’re not as materialistic as I am.’

Sy gives her a kiss. ‘I still love you though.’

‘Good.’ She gives him a kiss, before deepening it. Oh, does he love deepening kisses with her. Her tongue caresses his bottom lip and he hums in content against her lips.

‘Okay, you two,’ he hears Hunter say, ‘I really hate it when couples rub in my face they did find someone and I still haven’t.’

Rose can’t stop her laughing. ‘You got rejected, Hunter? Again?’

‘No need to be mean,’ Hunter says in a dangerously low tone.

‘But yes, he got rejected. Again,’ Zeke says.

Max nods and adds: ‘It was painful.’

Sy tilts his head. ‘Want something to drink?’

‘Yes, please. My sweet Rose, can you arrange free drinks at the Oak?’ Hunter asks.

She pretends to think about it. ‘Well, okay then. Just allow me to change into something more comfortable.’

‘Yeah me too,’ Sy says. ‘We’ll meet you in an hour, okay?’

‘An hour, seriously?’ Max shakes his head. ‘You two are disgusting.’

Sy shrugs. ‘You’re jumping to conclusions, Max. That’s your own fault. Okay, baby, let’s go inside. We don’t want to keep the guys waiting.’ While his friends pretend to puke, he pulls Rose inside the house and closes the front door behind him. Knowing the day they’ll have tomorrow, he quickly says: ‘We don’t have to do any of that, it’s just that I wanted to piss them off.’

Rose starts to laugh. ‘You’re such a mean friend.’

‘Pay back for when they messed with me when we were younger.’ He gives her a kiss on her forehead, her nose and her lips. ‘You want to shower first or can I?’

She tilts her head. ‘How about you and I go together?’

✨This was the end of it all started in San Antonio. I hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you think ✨

[sy-maya]

Passage to New Zealand and next steps

Stats until now: sailing for 3.5 years, 18′130 nautical miles (33′580 km)

Family and friends ask us about our next steps. What next? Where do we go? What will we do? How long still? The short and the long answer is: We don’t know yet. But we’ll let you know as soon as we figure it out. In the next days, we have to do some repairs on Maya, haul her out, organize all that. Herbert has to catch up with work (Shortcut). Then, we’d like to do some sight seeing with the kiddos (Christmas?), etc. After that, we will see… Stay tuned! ;-)

In the meantime, here is our passage to NZ day by day. Thanks to our dear friend Grégoire Meylan for posting these in out FB page and thank you all for your motivating comments!

Some impressions can be found here: FB Album NZ Passage 

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Day 1: Between Storm and Hurricane November 16-17, 2017

We left Tongatapu yesterday at noon and had a smooth start. Our friends Peter and Renate from the German boat SY Mardos left 2 hours ahead. Cool to have a sailing buddy. Even if we don’t see them, it’s good to know that there is somebody close by. We were analyzing the weather together for weeks, making Excel sheets and weighting different options (the good old German/Swiss way). A bit of background information. This passage is probably the most tricky/dangerous one we ever made. Until now we were stable trade-wind sailors, but down here, the weather changes from one hour to the other. Predictions are very unreliable e.g. now we should have 10 knots wind. In fact we have 20 knots. This is a 100% error :-/. At least the direction is correct. Also, there are weekly spring storms raging on the north coast of New Zealand (up to 30S). There is one right now with wind speeds of a predicted 50 knots. This means gusts up to 60-70 knots in reality. Not good. In comparison, you can imagine holding your head out of the car window at 140km/h. Now imagine it is your entire home that is looking out of that car window and on top of the street rushes 8-9m waves. We don’t want that and that’s the reason why we did not leave last time we planned to. We might have just passed before that storm, but any problem with the engine at the wrong moment could happen and boooom. We are so happy though, that our friends from SY Carapitanga and SY MeliMela just made it on time this morning! The weather window we are taking right now looks much better, at least for now. Weather might still change and will change. Second reason why this is a tricky passage are the hurricanes in the South Pacific. The season started November 1st. Even if there are no reported hurricanes before December 1st in Tonga, we do not want to risk to stay too long. Hurricanes are also very unpredictable constructs. There are outliers in every season. We checked before leaving and there is no hurricane in sight down here. We are right between storm and hurricane. Good that we get weather on board and have daily radio rounds with our friends here. Thanks HAM radio.

Due to the tricky weather here, some of our friend sailors (actually most of them) rely on the help of some weather guru. We don’t. He sent about 16 boats to New Zealand at the wrong time. They were all stuck at Minerva, a reef in the middle of the ocean, for almost 2 weeks in order to take a very risky weather window (the one we decided to avoid). We hope they all arrived safe and sound in New Zealand. But of course, at the end, everyone is free to do what they want, but we prefer to listen to our guts and blame only ourselves if something goes wrong.

Initially, we wanted to see Minerva, a reef about 2 days SW from Tonga in the middle of the ocean. However, the current wind direction below 30S does not allow for a visit (reminds us when we wanted to see Coco Island from Costa Rica to Galapagos and the wind was blowing from the wrong direction. History is repeating). We never made it there. Most ‘experts’ say to go west and then south to catch the west winds after 30S. Currently, the wind blows from E down there and this already since weeks. A change in the wind pattern cannot be seen. Therefore, we go South, until the SE wind comes in. Completely against all sailing literature. (BTW, there are tens of boats waiting in Fiji and New Caledonia already for weeks to cross, but they have the wind right against, and Hurricanes in the back).

Hope our guts will be right and we will make it safe and sound. So far so good.

Fun fact: By going south, we crossed the political time zone again to yesterday and will cross it once more in a couple of days to tomorrow. Don’t ask what day it is here :-)

We had Chili con Carne for lunch&dinner.

position at 9pm UTC+/-??? https://waypoint.li/map?q=-24.872,-175.0814

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Day 2: Active volcanos and pitted dates. November 17-18, 2017

We’re still heading straight south to catch the wind. The night was calm and nice. This morning, we started the engine to keep up the speed. At least, we listen to one of the sailor golden rules for the NZ crossing: DO NOT SPARE THE FUEL, KEEP UP THE SPEED WITH OR WITHOUT WIND! ;-) But still, we fly reef III on the main sail, safety first! We’ve sailed 360 NM, and there are 7xx NM more to go. Our average speed is 6.3kn. It was a lovely day, with smooth (motor)sailing. Even the sun decided to show up at the late afternoon, just in time to give us a wonderful sunset. So far so good.

The boys are fine, very energetic and challenging :-) They are quite excited by the surrounding sea trenches (more than 10km deep) and volcanic activities. We showed them on the map how we are crossing a geologically interesting (and scaring) active underwater area. So, instead of watching for dolphins or whales, they are fantasizing about eventual volcanos “Did you see that? I spotted some smoke, it is definitely a volcano!”.

We had yummy butternut Tortelloni for lunch and a chocolate-banana-dates-sesame cake for dessert. We’re trying to use all the “forbidden” items before coming to NZ. No fresh food, no dairy, no seeds, no lentils, etc. They have a very strict list in order to preserve their beautiful islands. The main question among sailors before leaving Tonga was “Do you need by any chance some lentils?”. It became a running gag ;-) For the story, our friends Meri&Manu from SY Carapitanga/Paprika, gave us a big bag of dates before heading to NZ. Asma was very happy and proud to find out that they were actually from Tunisia! Yeaaaah! The bag is almost empty now ;-) Position at 9pm UTC+/-??? https://waypoint.li/map?q=-26.732,-175.21

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Day 3: South, More South, Most South November 18-19, 2017

Again nice sailing, smooth conditions. The weather forecast seems to be reliable and stable. We are very grateful, so far so good. After sailing straight south since we left Tonga, today we switched to bearing Whangarei, NZ. 480NM behind us, and still 655 NM to go. We crossed this afternoon the 28S longitude, we have never been so far South. The most South we got was Pitcairn Islands (25S) in September 2016, when we first crossed the Pacific from Galapagos. We are all excited about it :-) Small things in sailing life. The air temperature is still nice here, and we are enjoying every bit of it, because our friends on the radio are complaining about the ice cold NZ! Brrrrr. We had a butternut soup for lunch. Soup leftovers and pop corn for dinner ;-). Yummy.

Position at 9pm UTC-11 (we figured it out, officially, it’s Sat 18th here until we cross the date line again.) https://waypoint.li/map?q=-28.603,-176.418

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Day 4: Half distance November 19-20, 2017

While writing these lines, we are only a few miles away from half the distance to Whangarei - New Zealand. Today, nothing spectacular but the sunrise, the sunset, the starry sky, and a splendid day of sailing. We read a lot to the kids. Adam is in Harry Potter fever and Herbert got addicted too (again). So he finished the remaining three chapters of the second book. Adam was so impressed that Asma had to tell him a lot of bedtime stories to get his mind off the scary passages. Samy didn’t understand all the details - better for his sleep quality. ;-)

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-30.00,-177.04

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Day 5: Wind of Change ;-) November 20-21, 2017

After a quiet night, the wind is turning to the right side (From S to SE). Exactly as forecasted. The bearing is 230, straight to Whangarei NZ. Still 440NM to go. We’re passing the Kermadec Ridge right at this moment. Quite rough seas with gusts up to 30 knots (“Dream conditions” for Herbert, “Not So” for Asma but OK, the boys are sleeping). Quite impressive to be in these surroundings. Volcanos -new and old-, marine reserves, birds everywhere. We even spotted our first Albatross, which was following us for more than an hour. Amazing beast! Herbert somehow managed to injure his left hand. It got infected and quite swollen, which led to fever and weakness. Trying to fix him with antibiotic ointment. Last green lentils, carrots and potatoes stew for lunch&dinner.

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-31.072,-178.917

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Day 6: 180 West or 180 East? November 21-22, 2017

The day started with a celebration: we crossed the 180W/E longitude line (and therefore the date line once again)! We have officially circumnavigated half the globe. Our last watermelon has been opened for the occasion ;-). The sailing has been quite bumpy, according to Asma, who is more than looking forward to its direction changing easterly so that we have the wind more from the stern! Herbert and the boys, of course, find it very cool. Maya is rocking, and after all it’s much more fun to play with toy cars when the floor of the living room is inclined by 30 degrees. There are not many houses like this out there. Adam had the ingenious idea to build a sleigh with our IKEA plates. It worked fine and it didn’t take long until the first plate broke… Because of these conditions, only leftovers for lunch (lentils yet again) and some crackers and pop corn for dinner. No way to cook! Even washing the dishes or moving from A to B reveals to be very sporty and to be carefully planned for. The good thing is that we could spot our buddy SV MARDOS since yesterday night and still now, we are about 3NM apart and could talk on the VHF radio! Funny! Herbert’s injury is not getting better, therefore we switched to antibiotics. The wound looks like a volcano by now! He feels a little better, though. Some readers might wonder what we are doing during our night watches when outside it’s freezing and the waves transform Maya into a roller coaster. Asma is watching Big Bang Theory and Herbert - officially on holiday - is (as a hobby) helping a Swiss startup implementing some features for their iPhone app. What a nerdy family ;o) Still 294NM to go. Good night! Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-32.60,178.73

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Day 7: Last night? November 22-23, 2017

After a rocky night, we had a very nice and smooth sailing day. Sun, no waves, perfect wind (Herbert: boring ;-) ). Well, the temperature is getting lower and lower (air at 20 and water at 18 degrees), and we adapt our layers of clothing, so it goes from 0 (only underwear) to 1 (t-shirt for Herbert) or 2 layers (fleece jacket and thick socks for Asma). The boys start with more layers after waking up, but end up with underwear after a few hours. Maya is well isolated, so we only notice the cold when we go outside, which happens less and less by the way… Bye bye tropics :-(

Still, we are all excited for the next chapter of our family journey. We have been sailing one week from Tonga, and it is - most probably - our last night at sea for a long time. Asma was very busy emptying the provisions, so there was much more cooking than yesterday: a bread with (last) whole grain flour and (last) seeds for breakfast, Gnocchis with (last) fresh tomatoes for lunch, a cake with (last) eggs, and (last) hazelnuts and (last) dates for the snack; and finally (last) sausages for dinner. For the New Zealand immigration, we have to get rid of all food items before arriving, and give a list of all “risk goods”. Herbert has been filling these forms. He could even call the officials on the maritime radio via SSB, to inform them of our soon arrival. His hand is getting better, but still a bit weak. The antibiotics are doing their job.

1042 NM behind us and less than 140NM to go until the customs berth in Marsden Cove marina, Whangarei NZ.

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-34.268,176.459

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Day 8: Arrival November 23-24, 2017

At midnight, Herbert woke Asma up for her shift with a “We have a problem, the wind is gone, and the temporary autopilot doesn’t want to work, argh!”. Asma put on 5 layers of clothes and went outside to steer by hand. Herbert tried and tried to fix the problem without success, so he eventually went to sleep until his next shift. Asma was actually very happy to be steering outside despite the cold. It was our last night sailing (well at least for a while ;-)), so we fully enjoyed the starry sky and the peacefulness of the night. It gave us the opportunity to think about all this amazing journey.

At 6:30am, the kids woke up, put warm clothes on and went outside with Asma. Adam could steer, while she prepared their breakfast. He was so proud to help :-) At 10am, Herbert woke up and started to fix the autopilot again. Debugging. At 11am, it was working! Yesss, now, no time to sleep or rest, we have to clean the boat for clearance because we want to arrive today!! And we will. We could have slowed the pace and spent another night on sea but no, we want to arrive on Friday, as planned ;-)

Maya was grateful to be cared of and to be clean and neat. Even the boys were like “Ah wow, Maya looks nice like this!”. And both of us thought ”THAT’S THE WAY SHE WOULD BE IF YOU KIDS WOULDN’T MAKE A MESS ALL THE TIME”, but we didn’t say it. We’ve just asked them to keep her like this at least until the customs come in next day, otherwise they wouldn’t let us stay in New Zealand. Hihihi develish parents, but it worked :-) For lunch, we had some precooked French delicatessen: Boeuf Bourguignon and Ratatouille :-)

At 5pm, the boys were screaming “Land in Sight! We see New Zealand!”. So cool. We will make it. They went to bed to sleep a little bit in order to be fit when we arrive late. That’s what Samy did, except that he never woke up until next morning ;-) Adam was so excited, he couldn’t stay still for 1s, so we let him stay awake with us, and enjoy the breathtaking scenery outside. For dinner, Herbert, who was still in the mood of French cuisine, and who didn’t want to throw away all onions and garlic, cooked a wonderful onion soup. Yummy!

By 8:30pm, Adam was getting tired and overexcited. He could only calm down and sleep when Herbert laid with him in bed and promised to wake him up when we arrive. Which we actually did, but he was so tired, he just fell back asleep ;-) Herbert took radio contact with the NZ harbor to announce our arrival. It was getting dark, we were tired but also excited, that instead of taking shifts to rest, we just sat together outside to steer and enjoy our last miles under a new moon, clear sky, shooting stars, flat sea, and welcoming land lights. It was very emotional. We are really here. We did it. Amazing.

The harbor entry was quite tricky at night, we were so happy to have the navigation charts. It all went well with a huge amount of Adrenalin. At 11:15pm, we were safely docked at the customs’ berth at Marsden Cove Marina. Exhausted but overwhelmed by gratefulness.

Good night from New Zealand!

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-35.8367,174.4686

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Day 9: Ship capsized and sank November 24-25, 2017

At 6:30am, the boys woke up and cheered “WE ARE IN NEW ZEALAND!!!”. No way to sleep any longer :-). We woke up, took our breakfast, and cleared up. At 8:20am, the immigration officer arrived, followed later by the quarantine one. This latter was Mike Barker, the guy we met in Vava’u during the “Blue Water Festival” (Corresponding blogpost still to come), and who we asked all about food clearance in NZ. Nice to see a familiar face at arrival. It went all well, and at 9:20am, we were officially cleared in! We learned from the custom officials that two ships didn’t make the trip. One ship has to be abandoned, the other sank. The crew, however, could be saved in both cases. We were shocked. This happened exactly in the weather window we wanted to take first, but finally didn’t take (see one of the FB posts). Lesson learned: wait, wait, wait, until weather is stable.

It’s amazing how the clearance procedure in New Zealand is dramatized. Adjectives such as difficult, expensive, impossible, tedious, long, etc. are often used to describe it. People start preparing already months before arrival. The truth is: It is very easy to clear in to New Zealand. The assistance of the officials is unbelievable and it takes no longer than 15 minutes to get cleared. This is about 4 times faster than Tonga for example. Not to mention the countries in Latin America. There is not much paper work to be done and it doesn’t cost a cent. Well, that is OUR experience, may be, we were indeed very well prepared ;-)

After clearance, we moved straight to our berth B52 (what a great berth name ;-) ). At 10am, we left the boat and went exploring the marina.

The Marsden Cove Marina is outside of Whangarei, the main city here. There is not much. Therefore, it took us quite some time to get decent Internet to write these posts.

By the way, Herbert’s hand is getting better. He hasn’t been to a doctor yet (everything is closed), but first thing on Monday.

The little we saw so far - the meadows, the woods, the cows, etc. - reminds us of Switzerland. Well, there are some palm trees, but otherwise, really similar. On top of that, everything is so clean. What also hit us was that everybody is so white. Really white skin. Or pale? ;-) The ‘small’ supermarket has everything one can imagine (well, at least for us) we bought fresh vegetables (Broccoli, which we missed most during our trip), fruits (KIWIS ;-), strawberries and blueberries), some meat, CHEESE :-))) to prepare a nice dinner. On Maya, the meat already marinated, and the veggies chopped, we fired up the stove. At least, we wanted to fire it up. However, it didn’t work. Gas was empty. Wow, how lucky are we. If this would have happened some days or hours earlier… Anyway, what now? It’s late Saturday afternoon. When do the stores close here? Let’s ask our neighbors form SY Tregoning if they can help somehow. Luckily, they had a spare gas bottle. We hooked it up and were able to start cooking. While Herbert prepared dinner, Asma went to check whether the shop was still open and had some gas. Yeah, it did. We were saved.

After dinner, we watched a movie with the kids and went all early to bed. Good night!

Position: https://waypoint.li/map?q=-35.8373,174.4685