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ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

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In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I’d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

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noctilucid · 4 years ago

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DannyMay Day 5: Doorway

"Are you guys seeing this?" Danny's voice sparked through the background distortion of their Fenton Phones.

"What is it?" Sam craned her head in his direction, but her driver's ed training refused to let her release the steering wheel of the Specter Speeder. Across the seat from her, Tucker shifted to lean against the window.

"Not from here dude," he replied. "What's up with those doors?"

"They've got a plaque between them. Seriously, you've gotta see this. I think the island's big enough to land on."

Tucker looked back at Sam, and they exchanged a shrug.

"You heard the man. Adventure calls!"

Sam circled around to approach the tiny landing ground, chewing her bottom lip as she delicately maneuvered to set them down on the slab of rock which was barely larger than the Speeder itself. When she felt the landing gear dig its retractable claws into the stone, sending vibrations through the carriage, she un-tensed and remembered to breathe, smiling to herself. She'd gotten good at this; there was no way she wasn't passing her driver's test come April.

She popped her door open, Tucker scrambling out behind her, and they shuffled sideways along the available ledge to where Danny was hovering in front of the two doors mounted at the edge of the bare island. A plaque floated between them, carved in dark wood.

"Woah." Sam traced a finger over the florid raised border. There was an embossed image of a woman in a long dress and a snarling tiger, with text below.

"What?" Tucker squeezed in behind her. She scooted a little further down to make room for him, Danny floating up above the two of them.

"Can you believe it?" Danny asked, looking down on them with a lopsided grin, wide enough to border on manic.

"The Lady or the Tiger," Sam read. "In instances of unknown guilt, the accused shall select one door of the twain to receive justice."

"Wait, like that short story we just had to read?" Tucker pulled out his PDA and tapped something in. "Stockton, 1882."

"Do you think I could get extra credit if I took a picture of it?" Danny's grin stretched a little farther and became a little toothier. Ghost mouths had a tendency to do such things.

"So he based his short story on a place in the Ghost Zone?" Tucker mused.

"Or the story became so popular that it manifested out of the ether," Sam said. "I mean, it was influential enough that it's become a figure of speech."

Danny tipped over so that he was floating upside-down. "So would you say that ‘The Lady or the Tiger’ could be a chicken or egg scenario?"

Tucker groaned. "God, Danny."

"No, no," Sam said, "this is an improvement. His puns are getting cleverer over time."

"There's also a third option," Danny added. "Stockton became a ghost and his lair pays homage to his most memorable achievement." Sam considered it and nodded.

Tucker snapped a photo and saved it. "Well, if you're getting extra credit, so are we. I had to rewrite my last paper after Cujo drooled on my first draft."

"Sorry," Danny said, righting himself. Tucker waved him off.

"Not your fault. But blaming you makes me feel better." Sam snorted and knocked shoulders with him. Danny stole his beret and shoved it on his own head.

"So… you wanna open the doors and see what's behind them?" Danny asked, sinking down between them.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam said. "I prefer to avoid situations where I might get eaten."

"Tuck?" Danny flopped his head on Tucker's shoulder. Tucker took the opportunity to grab his hat back. "There might be a pretty lady."

"I thought we weren't expanding this trio without a full consensus."

Danny reeled back in fake shock. Sam slung an arm around Danny’s shoulders. "He's matured so much!" she joked.

"Hey," Tucker put a hand over his heart. "I'm a family man."

"Fine, we'll leave the doors unopened. We'll never know the answer to the mystery that has haunted the past two centuries. If you guys are cool with that."

"And how are we supposed to finish our mission before school on Monday if you get mauled by a tiger?" Sam gestured Tucker back towards the Speeder door, following in his wake.

"I can put a beacon on the island if you want to come back," Tucker suggested. "We could try to trick Walker into opening one."

"Ooooo, yes please." Danny floated up over the Speeder pod as Tucker climbed in and dug something out of his backpack. He handed it out to Sam, who kneeled at the edge of the island and pressed the device into a crag on the underside. She brushed off her hands as she stood up.

"Alright, no more distractions. We've got a book to return."

#dannymay2021 #phanniemay2021 #Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Everlasting Trio #QPPs are a hill I will die on #my writing #drabble

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1-800-seo · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Lee Taeyong X Gender Neutral Reader

Song: The Louvre - Lorde (lyrics mentioned)

Genre: Fluff/Artist!You + Poet!Taeyong

Warnings: suspicions of cheating, alcohol consumption, slightly tipsy-ness, some kissing, implied sexual content but not explicit.

Word Count: 4000 approx.

Summary: As wandering, travelling college students on a gap year, meeting each other in the Louvre was purely coincidental, and usually summer flings weren’t your thing, but Taeyong was different. And like a moth to a flame, you were entranced.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

The floorboards creak as the tour group shuffles down the hallways of the Louvre, passing many other tourists. The tour group leader stops at another painting and begins his explanation of the painting you see in front of you; well, you would be able to see it if you weren’t at the back of the group. Craning your neck to see, you stand on your tiptoes, before realising it is all in vain. Forgetting the other artwork, you swivel to see another painting on the wall adjacent to it and peer upon it instead. A young icy blond haired man stands beside you, examining the artwork too. He wears a baggy striped t-shirt that shows his delicate collarbones, tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans, a necklace gently hanging around his neck. He looks positively comfy, but effortlessly chic; you can’t help but stare at his chiselled jawline either. The man looks as if he was carved out of marble, angular lines with delicate features, he was stunningly beautiful. And suddenly, you realise you’ve been staring way too long when he turns his head and catches you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, but you sense no malice in his voice as a warm smile creeps up his face. Looking at the ground, the painting, anywhere, you apologise; “Ah, I’m sorry… uhm I like your outfit.” You reply gingerly, unsure of what to say to remedy the situation. “Thank you! It’s new.” He sits down on a near bench, eyes trained on the painting ahead. “As great as this painting is, I cannot stand scenes of suffering - I really struggle to find the beauty in them.” He blurts out after a moment. “Why’s that?” You curiously reply. You’ve always liked paintings from the romanticism era, the painting in question being ‘The Raft of the Medusa’ by Theodore Gericault. “For instance, this painting shows their suffering, and just that itself is not nice to see, but the colour palette is so murky to me. What do I know though, I’m no artist.” You understand what he means, as an art major, you had to analyse this piece one semester. “I get where you are coming from, the aging of the paints makes it appear murkier than the artist intended, and I think that adds to the whole ‘suffering’ aspect.” As you end your sentence, you turn your head and realise the tour group has moved on. You pat him on the shoulder and point in the direction of the crowd. He swears under his breath before standing up and leading the way back with the group. What a beautiful stranger.

Once the tour group has ended, you vacate the Louvre, more sightseeing to do. After a busy day of staring up at the Arc De Triomphe and climbing the stairs of the Eiffel tower, you end up walking by the Louvre again since you previously spotted a cute cafe you wanted to try out. Now dusk, the water display is illuminated, bathed in light and bubbling. You see a familiar figure sat on the wall beside it, looking slightly lost and reading from a notebook. Unsure whether to help, you continue walking on to the cafe, this would only take a minute or two. Once done, with two coffees in hand, you walk back to the Louvre and the figure still sitting on the wall.

“Are you ok? You seem a bit lost?” You gently ask, testing the waters. The man from the gallery looks back up to you, big expressive eyes staring back, and you sense a hint of worry in them. “Hi, yeah, I’m a bit lost. My phone died and I can’t find my way back to my hotel.” He says, forlorn. “Well, I bought you a coffee, if you’d like it, and I don’t mind helping! I can maybe help with directions.” You hand the coffee towards him, and he takes it from you, eyes lighting up as he does. “Aww thank you! That would mean a lot to me, and thank you for the coffee.” You sit down on the wall next to him as you pull up Google maps on your phone. “It’s no problem. Where are you staying? I’ll put it into maps and have a look.” “I’m staying at the mur de coquelicots hotel.” “Oh no way! I’m staying there too! I know exactly where it is, we can walk back together.” “That sounds great.” He replies with a smile, eyes shining.

The pair of you walk through the city as the sun sets and the moon begins to shine. Conversation flows easily, and you find yourself totally enamoured with this stranger. He’s bubbly and friendly, charismatic and charming, simultaneously shy and chatty. It’s hard not to stare as he speaks to you, it’s an added bonus that he’s gorgeous. Unfortunately, the walk is over quicker than you’d like and you two enter through the lobby of the cheap but nice enough hotel. You make your way into the elevator with him, and press your floor. “Well it was nice meeting you. I just realised I don’t even know your name.” You giggle. “I’m Y/N.” “Thank you for your help Y/N, I’m Taeyong by the way.” “You’re welcome, goodnight Taeyong.” You bid your farewell and exit the lift, the doors opening as you finish your sentence.

As you reach the door to your room, you fiddle with the key card, excitement bubbling up inside of you. What a lovely guy. You flop down on the comfy hotel bed once you’re inside of the room. Spending all summer in Paris was becoming more and more like a dream come true.

The sun shines through the translucent curtains as you gather your things into your tote bag and get ready to leave the hotel room for breakfast. You wander over to the quaint bakery across the road from the hotel, and spot a familiar figure sitting in the outdoor seating with a newspaper. The blonde haired man sports a beret, and looks positively relaxed as he munches away on a croissant. You pick out a pastry, before walking over. “Is this seat taken?” You ask, and pull out the chair to sit down. “No, feel free to sit.” He replies with a smile. You sit opposite to him and shift in your seat to get comfortable. “What a lovely morning, right?” His smile beams as he looks your way. “Definitely! I love the warm weather.” You say, “it’ll be perfect to paint in.” “Oh so, you’re a painter? That’s cool, Paris is perfect for inspiration. It’s certainly aiding me.” “Yeah, I’m a painter, I’m here as an international student on study leave. What do you do?” “I’m an English literature major, specialising in poetry, so I’m here finding inspiration for poems of my own.” “Well, you’re certainly at the right place. Speaking of inspiration, I’m going to visit the Palace of Versailles today if you’d like to come with me and are not busy. I thought since you’re alone here, you might want to?” You ask, rubbing your hands over your arms, a slight shiver of nervousness at your sudden offer. “That sounds amazing! Thank you for the invite. What time are you thinking of leaving?” His eyes light up at your offer and your nervousness is put at bay. “Around 12pm, and you’re very welcome.” You reply. “Sounds good, I’ll meet you here at 12pm then?” He responds chirpily. “Sounds good to me.”

Okay I know that you are not my type (still I fall.) I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind

(But what about love?)

Nothing wrong with it

Supernatural

Just move in close to me, closer, you'll feel it coasting

This wasn’t something you usually did. Asked our strangers or chose to spend time with ones you are not familiar with. But it was almost a supernatural attraction. He was not your usual type at all, but something strong and lulling was moving over you. Something indescribable, beyond enchanting.

Walking around the luscious gardens of the Palace of Versailles was just a sight to behold. The beauty that is held within was stunning. It was as you strolled around it that Taeyong took your hand in his; so casually that you didn’t think anything of it at first, but then it hit you and your heart fluttered. You smiled wide as he looked at you with tender eyes. It’s not wrong to move this fast right? Nothing wrong with a summer fling.

Nothing wrong with it, supernatural.

As the two of you walk around, conversation flows freely. You speak of previous art pieces and he talks about writing, he tells you about how long he’s been in Paris and so many other things. Before you know it, you two find yourselves under a grand stone archway, and conversation trails off delicately. “You’re so beautiful, I love the way the sunlight hits you. I think you’d make a beautiful painting yourself.” He says unexpectedly. A bubble rises through your chest, and you know what you want to do. You lean forward, placing your hands gently either side of his head and you kiss him. His soft lips meet yours and you are drinking each other in. The kiss is brief but heavenly all the same. As you pull away you notice a light blush over his cheeks and a dorky grin on his face. You feel the same grin on yours.

After a lovely day together walking around the palace’s gardens and opulent rooms, you decide to head back and get some food together. Being students and not having a ton of money, you both decide to get food from a local convenience store and to eat it on the hotel room balcony. “What do you fancy eating?” He asks, his hand still grasped around yours as you peruse the items in the shop. “I think I fancy some quiche, what are you thinking?” “I think I’ll get some cheese and crackers.” He adds, checking out the foreign cheeses. Once the pair of you have your haul, you head back up to the hotel room, and lay out your spread on the balcony table. The sun is setting gently in the distance and it illuminates the skies in gentle peaches and pinks. In his company, it just feels so comfortable, so cosy.

A rush at the beginning.

At the shop, you also purchase a bottle of wine, and the two of you share it together. Perhaps the cosy feeling is from that, you don’t know, but either way; you enjoy being in his company and don’t regret talking to the beautiful stranger in the Louvre. After some time, you’re both positively tipsy, not drunk, just giggly and happy. Taeyong starts dancing on the balcony, languid movements and sharp ones intertwined into a beautiful choreography. You’re not quite sure how he learnt to dance this way, he deserves to be on a stage. But for tonight, you were his audience.

Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough.

He flows freely, not unlike a puppet on a string, controlled by some unseen forces to move his body in ways you could never. “Where did you learn that dance?” You ask, intrigued to no end. “I’m freestyling, just making it up.” Of course, he’s beautiful, intelligent, kind, and talented. “That’s crazy, you’re amazing.” You reply, and he blushes at your compliment. “One minute, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” He replies, and sets his phone down on the table. “See you in a sec.” Whilst he’s gone you sit and stare at the beautiful dusk sky that is out ahead. You’re aware that what you have with Taeyong is quite the whirlwind, but you really can’t find the space to care. There isn’t any damage being done, and you’re young so now’s the time to have fun and be carefree. You’re in Paris, maybe it’s called the City of Love for a reason?

As almost to interrupt your thinking, Taeyong’s phone buzzes on the table and the screen illuminates in front of you. You can’t help but see what the message says, it’s right there in front of you. The message is from “이 소연” and it reads: “Missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy Paris <3”

Is it possible he has a partner? Were you not the only one? It’s entirely possible that you were just a summer fling to him, and he actually has a partner back home.

I overthink your punctuation use. Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do. A rush at the beginning. I get caught up, just for a minute.

Were you just getting caught up with everything? Did you really just rush into things without even a second thought. Of course, you were being naive, you didn’t even ask if he was single before kissing him. And yes, he reciprocated but what did that mean? You were just the enabler.

Alas, you had to move on with the night, getting suspicious of him and acting weird wouldn’t help right now. So when he comes back onto the balcony, you continue the night as normal, pushing down your feelings. Perhaps it was his sister. You really cannot presume. Despite your logical side being sensible, your emotional side still fought a battle. Warring to be front and centre of your thoughts. You know you can’t let it get the better of you though. And so, you carry on with the night, albeit slightly stilted now; and you make an excuse to go to bed earlier than you normally would. You scuttle off to your hotel room across the hall and settle in for the night. Thoughts swirling around and around in your mind.

Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest, broadcast the boom, boom, boom.

The sun rises overhead, almost fully above the buildings as you nibble on your croissant quietly. The streets are starting to come to life as you watch from the local bakery with your morning coffee. Desperately, you try to put your mind at ease, try to push down the onslaught of intrusive thoughts; illogical as they come. After 20 minutes, you start to feel more at peace, you watch the dainty flowers sway in the morning breeze in their pot. You almost expect to feel worse when you see him. He approaches you, leather satchel hanging at his waist, and waves as he comes. Instead you don’t feel worse, you just feel oddly numb. Completely sensationless as you put on a smile in return to his wave. He sits down in the chair across from you, and places his satchel on the floor next to his chair.

“Good morning! How are you today? I hope you’re not hungover from the wine last night.” He says with a giggle. “I know I certainly am, but I’m trying to be positive.” He adds, and you notice his slightly ruffled bed head, must’ve been from a rough sleep. “Ahh, you certainly are doing a good job of being positive then,” you reply with a smile that reaches your eyes and crinkles them, “luckily, I don’t feel hungover. I’m just enjoying the morning slowly and as it comes.” Which is true, you decided you’d take today as it comes. “I’m glad you don’t feel too bad then. I’m just going to nip inside to get something to eat, do you want anything?” He rises from his chair and gestures to the shop door. “No thank you, I just finished a croissant before you came, but thanks anyway.” “No worries.” And he leaves to enter the boulangerie.

I’m just the sucker who let you fill her mind.

You didn’t want to make things awkward with Taeyong. It wasn’t worth it, at the end of the day, all you did was kiss him once. Perhaps you needed to find out more about him, get the full context at least. When Taeyong sits back down the conversation starts back up again and turns to family life. “So do you have any family back home?” You ask curiously. “What, in Korea? Yeah, I do. I have my parents back home and a sister. Yerin, she’s 15 and quite the handful. I miss her, but for now FaceTime calls will suffice.” He lets out a low chuckle at his own joke, making the situation a bit lighter. His answer doesn’t provide any clues to your questions though. “Aww that’s nice, I have a sister too. But she’s older than me. Do you have a partner at all?” You ask now, testing the waters. “Nope, just me, myself, and I.” “Same for me.” Well, that also doesn’t answer your questions. You’re pretty sure that the text earlier wasn’t from his sister, and you expect his mum to be down in his phone as a term of endearment; not a full name so it can’t be her. Is it better to give up the search? Maybe asking Taeyong more later would help. But what to say? Future you would deal with that. For now, you had the whole day ahead.

“So what do you have planned today?” He inquired now, breaking you from your thoughts. “I’m just going to go paint in the local park, do you fancy being my sitter? I need more anatomy practice.” “Ooh of course! I’ve never done anything like that before.” And so today’s plans were set. How could you pass up on the opportunity to paint someone built so divinely like Taeyong? Personal interests aside, Taeyong was made to be immortalised in artwork forever. His sharp jawline, large emotive eyes, and slim frame all coming together to create the perfect sitter for you. A painting of him, no matter the artist who painted it, should be hung in the Louvre. A masterpiece deserving of being viewed by everyone and adored.

Our thing progresses

I call and you come through

The spot you are situated in is perfect, a lush knoll leading out onto a tulip field, the many colours like a rainbow behind Taeyong. You’d decided to paint him in watercolour, partially because of the easy clean up, partially because you want to capture his true beauty, the delicate tones of his skin, hair, and eyes; the gentle dips of his collarbone, the sinewy muscle of his arms.

Taeyong poses quietly, the silence a comfortable one, as you begin painting him. He looks thoughtful, looking out into space behind you, he almost seems meditative, eyes blinking slowly and breathing even. As you mix the colour of his skin tone on your watercolour pan, you see him sigh, and wonder what he is thinking about. From what you know, Taeyong’s an introspective person, much like you, and perhaps that’s the mood he is in today. You are the same. It’s hard in the silence for your thoughts not to turn to the message. Intrusive thoughts fly around like bats in the night time; even if he was cheating, could you not push it aside for the sake of a summer fling? Logical thoughts cross out that of the intrusive ones - of course not, how could you be the other person in his relationship for the sake of selfishness? It’s important to be communicative, and if you have your worries - suspicions - then should you not speak to him about it? Sometimes things are better left unsaid, yes, but this is not one of them.

With a new resolve, you decide to talk to him come the evening. Clarification is what you need, and you must bolster up the courage to get it.

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush

You know what they say about alcohol, it’s liquid courage, and after a glass of wine or two, you finally feel bold enough to approach Taeyong. You open your hotel room door, and cross the hallway to his. A sharp rap on the door brings you to Taeyong’s attention, and he pads across the room to open the door. You stand near the threshold, looking almost alarmed, like a deer in headlights. Perhaps you came underprepared and unrehearsed. “C-can I talk to you?” You ask, words stuttering on their way out. “Of course, come in.” He replies gently, sensing your unease as he gestures for you to come in.

Once you’re both situated on the balcony in those damn uncomfortable plastic chairs, you begin to talk. “Do you have a partner, Taeyong?” You fiddle with your hands, eyes glued to them in aversion from his eyes. “No, why?” He replies, head cocked to the side in confusion. “When you went to the bathroom the other day, your phone was on the table directly in front of me, and pardon me for breaking your privacy, but I couldn’t help but read the preview of the message that came up. It said “missing you, my dear, can’t wait to have you back in my life. Enjoy paris,” and then there was a love heart at the end. I’ve probably got the wrong end of the stick, but I’ve been so cautious because I don’t want to be that other person in a relationship. I don’t think you’re lying to me, I just wanted to be sure, and ask you since it’s been bothering me.”

Taeyong takes a hold of your hand in his and smooths his thumb over the back of it in a comforting gesture. “I promise darling, I’m not dating anyone. That was my crazy ex. I broke up with her roughly six months ago, and she’s still sending me random messages. The only reason why she knows about me being in Paris is because she keeps hounding my mother for information. She keeps mentioning about me being back in her life, but I promise to you that I have no intention of even seeing her or speaking to her. She’s a mad woman.” At his words you feel tension release inside your chest. Your body feels lighter and you feel a wave of relief. Thank goodness for that.

“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with that Taeyong, and thank you for clearing things up. None of this is my place but, I appreciate you filling me in.” Now you look into his eyes, the dark earthy spheres look back at you as the remaining sunlight gives them a glossy shine. You smile back and he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You drink him in now, no longer hesitant to taste him. To him you taste so heavenly, the remaining mature hints of red wine mixed with something inherently just you, has him high with the feeling. He moves his hands to your waist now and you climb onto his lap, eager to be closer to him, to touch him. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt in his grip as you kiss down his neck now, lapping at the warm tan skin. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” He whispers in your ear, and you nod in agreement.

Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue,

Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession, Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor, Use our eyes, throw our hands overboard.

The morning light spills into the room through the translucent dainty cream curtains as they flow in the wind. The window is open to let the summer air flow in, and you don’t feel a chill at all. Taeyong’s warm skin radiates a heat you’ve never quite experienced, it’s so homely and cosy. The feeling of your head on his chest as you listen to his heartbeat unlike any other else. It’s nice to just be held, to feel the closeness of another human being and feel utterly comfortable.

You think back to the portrait of him you painted yesterday, and somehow you think it’s your best piece. There’s nothing like being able to capture a person with the aura whole. The piece emits something wholly him, just him. You think that’s why it might be your favourite. Maybe someday they’ll hang it in the Louvre, you giggle to yourself at that thought and Taeyong stirs underneath you. “What’s so funny, baby?” He asks, spoken with a gruff morning voice low and gravelly. “I was thinking about your portrait, and I thought about how you could hang it in the Louvre. But only because it’s you.”

“They’ll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre.” He replies, a blissed out look on his face. He’s right, maybe not about yourself, but about him. He might just be the ultimate muse.

But we’re the greatest

They’ll hang us in the Louvre

Down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre

thank you for reading! this fic is for the ‘Now Playing’ collab by @haechanblr and it was a joy to take part!! I hope everyone liked this hehe :))

If ur interested in more of my works my masterlist is here <3

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

rapp-ed around your heart (01)

word count; 19,578

summary; stan and Irene have decided that mitch needs. a little downtime, and he’s pretty moody about it, until you put him in his place.

notes; this is the beginning of what is going to be a six part series, all based on the road. I really hope you guys like it, it’s about healing, and finding purpose.

warnings; none, really. mitch is moody, but what’s new?

The South East

“Whatever it is that you think I did, I am taking zero responsibility for it until you have proof.” Mitch announced his innocence loudly from the second he stepped into the office, and Hurley simply glared at him from where he was sitting on the other side of the desk, and he flopped himself down until the comfortable chair to wait for his latest bollocking over disobeying orders, being reckless, having an attitude, or whatever it was that he was about to be reamed for.

“That fact that you immediately have to defend yourself is a reason enough for me to be doubtful in your conduct, Agent Rapp.” He recognised that voice, rolling his eyes a little bit letting his lips flick up at the sides in amusement as the stoic face of his superior came into view via video chat, and Hurley leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Irene.” He nodded, eyes flicking between the pair, and brows shooting up as he waited. “So, why exactly am I here?”

“You’ve been working with us for almost three years now, and you’ve been working yourself hard since the incident in Ibiza, which would make it four years since you last gave yourself a break.” His heart clenched a little at the painful memories that flashed behind his eyes, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had once been, and he crossed his own arms, raising his shoulders and dropping them back down in a shrug.

“Your point?”

“The point is, Mitch, that we look after our agents. You are taking a break. A long one.” He let out a groan at the woman’s words, beginning to spew denial and complaints from the second he had processed the words, wiping a hand over his face and shaking his head in denial, but the slamming of an open palm down onto the table was enough to silence him as he looked up at Stan.

“Listen, this isn’t entirely altruistic. We aren’t sending you on a holiday to let you have fun in the sun in the Bahamas. You are going to wear yourself out, and one day you will fuck up in the field and that will cost lives of other agents, and a hell of a lot of civilians.” He huffed, glaring at his superiors in silence, and Stan smirked a little at finally getting him to shut up. “You don’t have anything to live for, Rapp.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Hurley held his hands up, and Irene rubbed her forehead with a sigh, mumbling under her breath about the subtlety of men. “What we mean, Mitch, is that you’ve spent so long throwing everything into work and revenge, that you don’t have anything anymore. Work is important to you, I get it, but it can’t be everything. You have to have something that motivates you, something that inspires you, makes you wake up in the morning, or else you aren’t fighting for anything.”

“What happened to ‘never let it get personal’, huh?” His words were pointed in sharp and bitter tone at Stan, a vicious stab at him for the tactic he’d once used to whip him into shape emotionally, and the older man didn’t even flinch.

“That was when you were unstable, but you’re one of our best agents now, and you train the recruits. When your anger was out of control, anything you latched onto becomes your primary focus, but now you have nothing to guide your direction or give you a purpose.” She sighed, and he slumped back into the chair a little bit.

“What, and you think two weeks in Europe is going to make me a new person?” He snorted at the thought, picturing himself in a striped shirt and a beret, with a curled moustache when he came back and an affection for pastries.

“Actually, you’re staying in the country. Start you up easy, and all.”

He wasn’t sure what to say anymore, and he didn’t see the point. Life felt drained of colour and entirely pointless, the only things that gave him joy were knowing that he was keeping others like him safe, people who hadn’t yet undergone the life-changing trauma he had getting a chance to skip over it and enjoy a life he didn’t get to have.

“My niece, she’s going on a little road trip. I talked to her, and she’s agreed to take you along with her.” Mitch was entirely unaware that Stan even had any family, but he dropped that in favour of searching his brain for an excuse not to go in a cramped car with a complete stranger, but he felt like he was short-circuiting, mind coming up a total blank as he was filled with white noise. The smirk Stan’s face was enough to piss him off even more, but he bit his tongue and waited to be dismissed, he could always come up with an excuse between now and then. “You’d better go and pack, she’ll be here in an hour.”

“Wait, what? And you didn’t think to tell me until now?” He seethed, standing in his seat, before watching between the two higher-ups who were staring him down for his outburst. “Can I be dismissed, or what?”

“Yeah, you can go, but you better be ready by the time she gets here.” He was already out the door before Stan had even finished speaking, the words being shouted after him as he left the door wide open, spite to make him stand up and close it himself, and he heard it slam shut only a second later. He enjoyed the easy recruits all but jumped out of his way in fear as he stormed across the courtyard, stomping up the outside stairs to the top floor of the dormitories, the floor that had been reserved for him and him only, the single perk of staying on to advise being getting to have his own space rent-free, even if it was a little small and cramped, with every little privacy from the group of people constantly moving through in the lower floors.

There was a bag under his bed, the one he usually used when being sent away on an assignment, and he dragged it out with his foot, dumping it on the bed. Opening up various drawers and cabinets, he shoved a collection of jeans and shorts, jumpers and t-shirts into a bag, enough clothes for about two weeks, and enough underwear and socks to match.

Laying out a fresh set of clothes for himself, he stripped off the ones he was currently wearing, dumping them into the laundry basket that he could throw into the washer before leaving, and have one of the interns clean up and leave outside his door for when he returned.

The water took a good minute or two to warm up, and so he busied himself with swiping his toiletries and cosmetics into the bag too, before stepping into the shower and letting out a low groan as the scalding water washed over his skin as he stepped under it. Dirt and grime washed away into the drain as he thought about the training he’d been taking part in during the day, cuts and grazes along his back stinging at the temperature, but washing away every ounce of blood and dirt, cleaning the wounds for him as he washed himself off.

His hair was washed too, until the water was running clean as his muscles had eased, the tension slipping away with every deep breath he took. Not only did he let the physical dirt drain away, but he allowed the water to take away the impurities he felt in his chest too, the way his angry moods and stubborn hatred for the idea of leaving were carried away into the drain.

The fear, however, that stuck around. The overwhelming anxiety that came just at the thought of not being busy. Mitch liked to work himself into the ground, he wanted to be sure that he woke up in the morning with things to get straight into, and he wanted to be so tired at the end of the night that he didn’t have time to lay awake in the dark.

It was no longer the flashes of Katrina on the beach that came up behind his eyes, that was a pain he had acknowledged and processed, breaking it down until he was able to move on, but he was haunted by a life he never got to live. When he was younger, he was such high aspirations, and he mounted for a future he would never get. He missed the thrill of playing lacrosse, or the excitement he got at the idea of experiencing something new, or the adrenaline rush from forcing himself to do something that gave him a little scare.

Everything felt numb now, like the world was in black and white, surrounding him with the buzzing of white noise as everything fell away into the background. It felt blurry, and out of focus, and he felt disassociated from his life, and so when the chance came around for him to fall right into that void and get lost in his insecurities, he wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity.

When the water finally began to run cold, he switched it off, stepping out and towelling himself dry, before picking up his watch and checking the time. Fastening the device onto his wrist, he had just enough time to run through his laundry and grab a snack before leaving, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of the smoked ham and aged cheese sitting in the main fridge, a roll that he could place it within, and his mouth salivated a little in excitement. Tugging black jeans up his legs and a forest green henley over his head, he was grateful for how tidy his space already was, before grabbing at his favourite sneakers and tugging them onto his feet. It was a little cold for his liking, and so he swiped the first jacket he could from his closet, a slightly too big leather jacket with only one rip in it, that could easily be hidden if he didn’t stick his thumb through it, and it was enough for him.

He grabbed at the laundry bag, swinging it over his shoulder before peeking his head out of the door, and flagging down the first recruit he could find. Dropping the bag into his arms, he smirked as the man looked between it and himself, scurrying away seconds later with the strict instructions to wash it, dry it, fold it and leave it outside his door for when he came back.

He patted himself down, checking for keys wallet and his phone, doing a final sweep to check he had everything, before he was setting off, locking the apartment as he went. His first call was the kitchen, stopping in to make the sandwich he had promised himself, before taking a bite out of it and hiking his bag up onto his shoulder, and making his way back through the cabin.

Rounding the large property, he could see a vehicle already pulled up, a storage box on top that was open, and his supervisor was leaning against the back of the large car, a cigarette in his mouth as he listened to a woman just out of his view chat excitedly, but he could hear his voice as he made his way over. It was clearly one of the CIA vehicles, one he was so used to riding along in, and he momentarily wondered about how you’d gained permission for it, but the almost unnoticeable patched-up holes along the side and scratches told him that it was a decommissioned one that had seen better days before being shot at during field days.

The closer he got, the more he could see. Slightly shorter than he was, the girl was wearing a flowy dress and a cardigan, ankle boots covering her feet and sunglasses sitting up in her hair as she showed off a large map to her uncle, one that he didn’t care for, but he seemed to grab both of their attentions as he shuffled over to them.

“Rapp, just on time.” Stan broke, his voice already going colder just from interacting with him instead of the girl he called family, and Mitch simply rolled his eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Uncle Stan.” The girl was far too positive for his liking, especially while he was still angered over the entire situation, but he tried to be polite, shaking her hand when she offered it out to him, and gave him her name. She moved a little, trying to show him the large map as she attempted to redirect it so that he could see, and he dropped his bag to the floor, finishing his sandwich and sticking his hands into his pockets. “I got some places marked out, but is there anywhere in particular that you want to see, Mitch?”

“I couldn't care less where we go.” Your smile faltered a little, and he almost felt guilty for it, but you were shrugging him off only a second later, and he had to admit to himself that he was more than eager just to get on with this trip so that he could get it over with, the soon you both got on the road would be the sooner he could call this ridiculous holiday off, and the sooner he could come home and get back to his regularly scheduled timetable of running himself into the ground to avoid his thoughts.

Stan took the initiative to pick up his bag and place it in the open compartment above the car, before licking it shut tightly and double-checking it was all sealed up, before the older man was leaning down to press a fatherly kiss to the top of your head as you folded the map away. “You ready to go, Mitch?”

Your tone was a little cooler as you spoke to him, but still held no venom, and he simply nodded, making his way over to the passenger seat, all of the windows along the car blacked out, and he at least appreciated that privacy. Letting himself in, he stared right ahead, ignoring the scenery as he slumped into the plush leather and strapped himself in, crossing his arms and glaring at Stan as the man put out his cigarette and beaming sardonically at him from outside the windshield.

You were only seconds behind, hopping up into the vehicle with more pep than he thought possible, and getting yourself settled, before starting up the car, and dragging him away from the life he knew, on a ridiculous attempt to fix what he already knew to be broken, in his opinion, beyond repair.

It was an uncomfortable silence for at least an hour, only the humming you made along to the playlist that was ringing out softly within the car, your tapping at the steering wheel with your fingers to particularly catchy beats, and the attempts at small talk you’d given up on somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes into your journey. He was upset, and frustrated, and absolutely did not ‘want to play the number plate game’ with you.

Eventually, his curiosity took over, and he turned to face you, sighing a little for emphasis in what seemed more like a huff, and you glanced over at him from your place behind the wheel.

“So where exactly are we going first?”

“Oh! We are off to Fort Monroe!” You were still too peppy for his liking, and he hummed discontentedly under his breath, before nodding along and twisting to stare back out of the window, this time, looking dead ahead instead of to the side. He almost felt like a petulant teenager, slumped in his seat with a frown, arms crossed and being unnecessarily huffy, the same exact attitude he’d had all those years ago when his parents had sent him away to boarding school. “I was thinking we could go to the beach, maybe?”

He grunted at the thought, and you chuckled under your breath a little, glancing back in your mirrors and slowing for only a second to allow another driver to overtake you, before your attention was back on him.

“Not up for the beach? That’s cool. There’s a restaurant I kinda’ wanted to try, but we can do anything, really. I don’t have much of a plan for it. Just some ideas. I marked out some places around here that seemed cool.”

“A road trip of Virginia, how thrilling.” He rolled his eyes a little, his anger only bubbling up further at the cheery laugh you let out in response, looking over at him.

“I mean, I thought we’d start out easy for today. We’re already halfway through the day, it wasn’t worth getting anything big.” You shrugged, and he turned to look at you for only a second, cringing at the next song that came up, and he did not hesitate in lifting his finger to press skip on your phone as it sat in its stand on the dashboard. “We move down towards Florida over the next week or so, taking it in a slow build, getting to the road so much can be hard on your stomach, but the drives are divided up pretty nicely.”

“Florida?” You grinned, nodding at him, taking your eyes over the road for only a second. “How long is this road trip?”

You glanced over him curiously, your confusion at his statement melting away only a second later, before you were grinning in a way that made his stomach flip with nerves, unsure as to whether he actually wanted to know that answer. Instead of answering him, you reached over to the glove box with one hand, opening it up as the drawer fell open into his lap, and you fished through to find the old-fashioned and large paper map, slamming the storage compartment closed again and dropping the paper onto his legs. “Uncle Stan didn’t tell you the whole truth, did he?”

He grabbed at it, unfolding the large paper. He expected a zoomed-in version of the coast you were along, maybe a little more, but it was a map of the entire country, a red marker drawn along, lines connecting at least thirty dots along the way, and his jaw dropped, trying to add up in his head how long this trip would be, simply with driving and minimal stay time, and he realised he was looking at months of travel here.

“What the fuck?” You jumped a little at his outburst, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the paper before him. “This is one of those road trip things, right around the fuckin’ country! It’s going to cost a fortune in motels alone!”

You shook your head at him as he folded it down enough that it could sit flat, and you jabbed your thumb over your shoulder, causing him to turn and follow the motion with his sight. “We aren’t staying in that many motels.”

He almost felt stupid for how he’d missed it before, but the backseat was flattened down with a mattress laying over from the trunk to reaching almost all the way up to the seats, blankets and covers mixed with pillows, general amenities sitting around the edges, the largest portable phone charger Mitch had ever seen sitting on the floor, and he felt like the tiniest bit of hope he’d had toward this trip just flew out of the window, and at this point, he wasn’t even on control of the complaints that began to pour from his lips. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?”

“I found out this fucking morning that I have to traipse around the goddamn country with a fucking stranger, and now you’re telling me I have to sleep in the back of a car, doing shit I don’t want to do and sending my money in places I don’t want to go to, all for what? Nothing, that’s what.” He ran a hand over his face, a highly agitated noise leaving him. “Fuck this.”

You let out your own growl, the first sound of anything other than pure glee that you had released, the car jerking roughly as you spun off onto the side of the road, throwing the vehicle into park and turning to him. His eyes widened a little with the fire burning in your glare as you turned to look at him, sunny expression turned sour.

You weren’t willing to let him ruin your trip, this venture meant the world to you, you had been planning and saving up for more years than you could count.

“Listen, Rapp.” You hissed the name out at him, with more venom than even your uncle ever had, and he felt a little intimidated at the sudden rage that had spiked up within you. “This is my road trip. I planned it, I initiated it, I bought the car and saved for fuel, and did all the research. You think it was my dream to have a tag-along stranger jump on board? No. Especially not one with the general etiquette skills of a fucking pebble and the manners of an ex-con with a diagnosis in psychopathy and anti-social disorder.”

He opened his mouth to retort, feeling almost a little intimidated, shrinking back into his seat as you took a deep and steadying breath, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to reign yourself in, before you were looking at him again, before he could even think of anything to say in reply.

“Look, my uncle told me he wanted someone to come with me, someone who needed a little peace and quiet, and something to brighten up an otherwise dismal life. He told me about you, and I happened to think that this road trip would be just as good for you as it will be for me, so I said yes to you coming along. I’m not scared of my uncle, Mitch, and I’m not scared of Irene either. They aren’t my goddamn superiors, and I’m not letting you ruin this for me, so if you keep up this killjoy attitude then I will put you on a bus home, I don’t care where we are in the country. Got it?”

He gaped a little, before swallowing thickly, nodding his head, and letting himself acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up within him. Logically, he knew it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one that insisted he go on holiday, you weren’t the one that set him up with months of duty, and you certainly weren’t the one that had caused him a lifetime and a half’s worth of pain all crammed into the last decade, and yet he had been taking it out on you. Clearing his mind, he cleared his throat, mumbling an apology which you were quick to accept, before setting the car back off into motion.

It was awkward and tense, and he knew he’d already fucked it all up, and the two of you had barely been on the road for two hours, but he forced himself to relax a little, listening intently to the song playing, and relaxing in the seat. Uncrossing his arms and letting them sit in his lap instead, his head pressed into the rest behind his head, and he watched the scenery sliding by.

“So, that terrifying glare and scary, angry brow thing is genetics, then?”

You looked at him for only a second, easing up a little from your rigid pose, and laughed lightly under your breath, shrugging a single shoulder. “He taught me everything I know.”

He felt a little better at having broken the silence, and instead opted to open the map back up, studying the stops carefully, as you pulled off of the highway at the first sign guiding you towards ‘Fort Monroe’.

To say Virginia had been an uncomfortable situation of you both would be the understatement of the century. Small talk was fractured and strained, and you had no idea what you were supposed to talk to him about, and you had figured he was feeling the same way about you. Instead, you had busied yourself with mumbled about the different things you were seeing as you wandered around the Nation exhibit of Fort Monroe, and then moved on to dinner.

There was no longer the looming tension of the argument waiting to break out, and in his defence, you could see that he was at least trying to be better, but the pair of you hadn't exactly hit the ground running when you’d started out, and it was having a staggering impact on everything else that was going on for the pair of you.

He had opted to sleep upfront, leaning the passenger seat as far back as it could go, and accepting the blanket and pillow you’d offered him, shuffling every few minutes for almost an hour before he had finally settled in his seat, and you were grateful for the reprieve, before finally being able to fall asleep yourself.

Sleeping that first night seemed to hit that refresh button for you both, because when you woke up, he had already been awake, but he’d mumbled a ‘good morning’ to you when he heard you stirring, actually putting down his phone to turn around and look at you when you sat up. He had shown you the google maps version of the guide that he’d downloaded for you both, to add a little extra navigation, and inform you about roadblocks on your routes, and other such information that you may need.

After sorting yourself out, a change of clothes, and finding a rest stop to freshen up at, you were back on the road, a far more positive atmosphere shared between you both as you set off on the fairly short drive which covered the rest of the distance between where you’d stopped in Virginia, and making your way down towards North Carolina. Your first stop was Crabtree Falls, wanting to take a little break as you got yourselves used to the amount of driving you were going to be doing, and opting to check out the Museum of Natural Sciences to stretch your legs out and get a little bit of fresh air before you were on your way again.

When you arrived, it wasn’t overly busy, no crowds and queues and masses of tourists, and you were grateful for the reprieve, and the fountain of things to talk about with the man beside you so that conversation didn’t have to feel as forced.

The second you stepped inside, you were in awe, glancing up at the beautiful glass dome that the floors all circled around, balconies overlooking from the upper layers, and you took a minute to appreciate the ornate workings of the decorations that were up and about, before a nudge on your arm caught your attention.

Turning to look at the man beside you, his hands were tucked into his pocket, but his elbow was brushing yours, before he nodded his head stiffly towards one of the signs before you both. “They have live animals. Wanna’ check out the snakes?”

“Only if we can look at the big whale skeleton first.”

He nodded his head, the two of you gathering your tickets, and grabbing a map to guide yourself around, unfolding it before the both of you and pointing out the various things you wanted to check out. You did not take it in order, wandering from the top of the museum to the bottom, several times, neglecting to follow the numerical path that had been laid out, but choosing to simply follow the numbers of things you wanted to look at each time you got curious about someone else.

The uneasiness between you both had fallen away somewhere between the butterfly enclosure and the ‘Mountain Cove’ exhibit. The feeling that you were just waiting to blow up at him again the second he began acting out of line once again had faded away, and the borderline silence he had allowed you to suffer through when you’d first arrived had changed into small comments and subtle attempts at conversations that varied between the attractions you saw, all dependent on the sights you were seeing, and just how much it caught his attention, but you certainly weren't complaining.

By the time you’d left, you had a large plushie of a dinosaur under your arm, and a smile on your face, and Mitch seemed fractionally less tense than you had seen him since this trip had begun.

You had a simple dinner, the two of you simply choosing to get by on a drive-thru meal that you could eat as you began the trip down to Georgia, a truck stop in mind that you could use for stopping at, as well as sleeping and cleaning yourselves up some more. Your third day had a dismal start, one of your tires popping from a particularly rough pothole in the road, the impact giving you a headache from the jerk of the car before you’d pulled over to the side of the road, and hours had passed before someone had been out to change your spare tire.

You’d had to pull out the mattress and blankets from the back of the car, balancing it on the top of the vehicle to stop it getting dirty just to be able to get to your tools and more than half of the day had passed you by before you were getting back on the road again, your plans ruined and your mood on the floor, at least five hours worth of driving still ahead of you, and the day had been lost entirely by the time you’d been able to get everything back to the way it should be.

It was quiet as you drove along, nothing cheering you up as you stared out at the open roads, feeling dismal about what had already gone wrong in your trip, the entire outlook making it feel like this was going to be the prediction for the whole trip, and despite your best efforts to be positive, the bad day had put a downer on your mood.

“So, tell me what this playlist is about? Because there’s songs from the sixties, and songs that are on the radio now, all mixed in together, and I have yet to hear the same song twice.” You were a little startled at him initiating the conversation, and you could hear the strain in his voice at actively starting a conversation that had no particular end place in sight, but you realised he was doing it purely for the purpose of cheering you up, and so your lips flicked up at the sides as you glanced at him. “It just seems wildly random to me.”

“Well, a lot of different genres and moods went into it.” He raised a brow at you to continue, seeming genuinely interested in the explanation, and you let out a little laugh at the thought. “Well, firstly you have your typical road trip songs. You know the ones. ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’..”

“Yeah? How about ‘Mr. Blue Sky’, and ‘Road To Nowhere’?”

“Of course!” You were a little happier now, this interaction with him being far more positive than he had been so far, and you rolled your shoulders, forcing yourself to relax as he hummed under his breath. “Then, there were just some of my favourites thrown in, like ‘Brandy’ by ‘Looking Glass’, and the ones that are just typical summer songs. ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Budapest’ by George Ezra, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He mocked, and you couldn't contain your grin as you looked over at him, that being the first piece of sarcasm that hadn't been a somewhat cruel jab towards you.

“Then, there are some of those songs that you can’t help but tap your feet and sing along to. You have to have a couple.” He sighed, muttered a ‘suppose so’, but there was no heat behind it, and quiet took over you both once again, the next song seeming to click into place as a way to end the conversation, and you cleared your throat a little, refocusing on the road. Maybe four more songs, five if you’d stopped paying attention at any point, had passed by before he spoke again, and you waited patiently as he formed his words.

“So.. there’s a random place on the map in Georgia, where are we going tomorrow?”

“There’s this little town called ‘Covington’, and I want to check it out.” He made a vague sound of confirmation, before he was pulling out his phone from his pocket a little awkwardly, and tapping his fingers at the keyboard on the screen, seeming to focus on whatever he was seeing for a good few minutes.

“It looks kinda’ boring. It’s just a regular town, I don’t see the big deal.”

“What, so you’ve never seen The Vampire Diaries?” You gasped falsely, and he clicked off his phone, shuffling a little in his seat and shaking his head, a motion you caught out of the corner of your eye.

“The what?”

“Oh, you need to add it to your list. It’s one of my favourite shows, and this is where it was filmed!” You were filled with enthusiasm just at the idea of getting to talk about it, and he huffed out in amusement at the idea of it.

“Vampires in Georgia, I thought it was supposed to be Transylvania? Isn’t it a bit too sunny in Georgia.” You felt your mind a little blown at how much there was to unpack in such a simple sentence, giggling as you sifted through your thoughts.

“First of all, it’s filmed in Georgia, but based in Virginia. There’s a lot you don’t know about modern vampires.” You had a falsely judgmental tone at his words, feeling your chest warm at the chuckle you managed to elicit from him.

“You’d better fill me on all this vampire shit before we get there, then. You only have a few hours, better get to it.”

Seeing the town in all its glory was the kind of experience that never could have been described to you, and if it had been, it would be nowhere near enough to amount to the way you felt. You weren’t sure how many photos you’d taken, your phone spending the majority of its time on the camera as you took a range of selfies and photos of everything you were seeing. You saw everything you possibly could, leaving Mitch to sit with a coffee in the gardens for an hour as you took the ‘Vampire Stalkers’ tour, before you’d wandered around Covington Square and pointed out different landmarks to him.

He had even offered to take a picture of you in front of the clock tower, and while he wasn’t exactly the most enthusiastic photographer, you were grateful for the offer, because it had felt like an olive branch between you both. You had described scenes and painted pictures for hi as best you could, and despite knowing you were going a little overboard with your passion, he had glazed over a little, no longer responding but simply choosing to nod and hum occasionally, throwing in the kind of replies that were able to pass for any kind of agreement, and you had fizzled out soon after that.

Instead, you’d offered to show him the Mystic Grill, the restaurant catching his attention from the second food had been mentioned, and he perked up a little as he agreed. You took pictures in front of the signs, forcing him to get into a picture with you, and he scowled at the camera as you sat on either side of the neon sign, before getting yourselves inside and settled at a table.

It was exactly how you’d pictured it would be, rustic and peaceful, a country theme that seemed aged and well worn, but you adored it no matter what, and the menu only made you fall in love with the whole town a little more. By the time you’d made your way back to the car and found your next place to stop, changing into your pyjamas and taking turns to change for bed in privacy as the other watched the car, you had made a promise to yourself that you would be visiting again one day, no matter what.

You were settled in the back, and he was once again slouched in his passenger seat, but this time when you’d said goodnight, he made a tired sound of acknowledgement in response, instead of the usual icy silence, before rolling onto his other side and settling into his sleep.

Georgia marked a change in the dynamic between you both, nothing extreme, but the two of you had shifted from mildly irritated passengers to mere acquaintances, and the overwhelming feeling that you’d made a mistake by agreeing to take him on was washing away, to be replaced with indifferent emotions aimed to him, and hope for your journey. This trip meant the world yo you, and you couldn't deny that you’d struggled to fall asleep the last few nights as sadness and fear crept up on you that it was all going to be ruined if you couldn't enjoy a single moment of it without Mitch putting a negative fog down on every happy moment you had.

But, he was showing a change. He was trying, he was putting in the effort to at least not be the complete and utter twat you’d taken him for when you’d first met him, and the man who had done nothing but complain for two straight hours before you’d put him in his place was showing no signs of reemerging. As long as he kept his negativity and pessimism in check, then you could find it within yourself to simply enjoy your trip the way you would alone, as though his presence wasn’t going to be one to affect you, he was simply another presence on the road with you, like the SatNav or the music.

You spent a second day in Georgia, unable to have chosen between the Natural Science museum, the Aquarium, and the botanical gardens. It had been an earlier morning, and for the first time so far, you had woken up before Mitch had. He seemed equally as surprised, pleasantly enjoying the fact that for the first time in God knows how long that he’d slept in. No alarms, danger, or blaring horns for training. He didn’t have to be up to do sprints around the woods or an intensive workout that would leave his entire body screaming out in agony by the end of the day, only to have a full day forced upon him next time.

He voices such things to you in the streetside coffee and pastry shop that you’d stopped at for your brunch, after having a walk around the botanical gardens, something that had been more than soothing for the both of you.

The flowers, the sights, the ornate placements and decorations, with buzzing bees and butterflies, a beautiful eco-system that was preserved and protected within a society that often allowed nature to be turfed over for infrastructure, and it was one of the most beautiful sights that you had ever seen. You touched soft petals, and felt your face heat up when a butterfly had landed on your forehead, your eyes crossing as you tried to look at it and cheeks aching from your grin, and through every thought of his own, without being asked, Mitch had snapped a picture for you so that you could preserve the moment forever, and sent it to your phone only a second after it had flown away.

Filling up on warm pastries and taking a to-go cup of herbal iced tea with you as you chose to walk through the little town centre and window shop, before making your way to the aquarium, while he offered to take over on the driving from you, for the fair few hours drive down to one of the favourited sunny spots in Florida, before you had found the building, and all thoughts about anything other than seeing the pretty fish had slipped from the front of your mind. Only after the two of you had entered, paper band sealed around your wrists and told to follow the green arrows, did he divulge to you that he had never actually been to an aquarium before, a fact that made you positively outraged, in a way that made his lips flick up at the sides a little as he watched you dramatically mourn for his loss of fish observations.

You had taken your time, showing him everything and telling him just what you loved about the scenes, the way the lower tunnels lit up with blue as fish swam overhead, and the way the larger ones like stingrays and little sharks would come right up to the glass, getting you closer to the predators than you ever could be, and yet being entirely safe, as the rehabilitated animals continued with their life, enjoying the safety of their home. You allowed him to take pictures, and made him take one himself, standing with his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood in the middle of the tunnel that changed colours, the first one being his usual stoic and emotionless expression.

The second shot, though, was one that you sent to yourself just to be sure that it wouldn't be deleted from existence, because it was far too precious to lose. In the second, the tunnel was between blue and red, a deep purple shade with a pink edge was cast over the man, making shadows appear across his face, the look of awe standing out as he stared up, the largest shark they had swimming directly overhead in the picture as he stared up at it, and at that moment, there was nothing in his life, except the astonishment at the creature that had passed over him.

He thanked you when you handed him his phone back, nodding his thanks to you as he paused on the second, not bothering to spend too much time focusing it, but not deleting it either, closing his camera app and holding the phone tightly in his hand. He was more conversational for the rest of the trip, the photograph unlocking something within him, and he managed to ask you simple questions about why you liked museums so much, and if you liked zoos too, as well as reading the information plaques aloud each time you reached one. The night had rolled around sooner than you would have thought, and the two of you grabbed ice cream cones from a small cart nearby, eating them slowly as you walked towards the car.

“I always wanted to swim with dolphins, y’know.” He shrugged a little, taking a bite out of the mint ice cream on his cone, and you hummed as you licked at the simple chocolate one you had while considering your options.

“You’re only, like, twenty-five. You still have time to do cool things like swim with dolphins.”

He glanced over at you, pausing in his steps for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might open up, that he would reply to you, let you in a little bit so that you could try and find a way to help him heal, but he simply shrugged, and your hopes caved in on yourself, a little quiet falling between you both again as those walls that had been slowly crumbling down seemed to build back up to twice the height they had originally been, keeping you sealed out in the cold from ever getting know him. Once he had finished his ice cream, he was reaching around behind himself, rubbing at his lower back carefully, but his features never even changed, though it wasn’t the first time you’d picked up on it.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been messing with your back all day, trying to stretch all subtle-like.”

“Backache.” The word was grunted out, and you sighed a little at the cold tone he had resorted back to, feeling like for every step forward you took with him, you were taking three steps back.

“Well, for the past three nights you’ve been sleeping in a car seat. Why don’t you take it easy, lay down while I drive?” He shook his head as the two of you approached the vehicle, and you rounded to the driver’s side, leaning against the door and giving him a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ve dealt with worse pains before.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to now.” It was a standoff between you both, and you reached out to place a hand on his arm, before deciding against his, swerving around him to tap on the tinted windows of the backseat. “Why don’t you lie down on the back, and I’ll drive. I’ll take it real slow, so you don’t get thrown about.”

“You’ll wake me up when we get there?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated at your assent for only a second, before he was dipping his head a little, and making his way around to the trunk of the car, allowing you to open it up with the car keys. Kicking off his shoes, he took them with him, his body flopping into the mound of cushions and pillows, and eyes already sliding shut the second he had, the door closing behind him as you got into the front. As promised, you drove slow, moving the pair of you down towards Florida, the night passing you by as you listened to your music so quietly that it wouldn't bother him, and in you slow pace, you were able to avoid disturbing him, the quiet tosses and turns he made causing you to glance back every so often.

Sometimes he was on the verge of being awake, blinking his eyes open a little in the darkness, to take in his surroundings, before adjusting his positions and laying back down. The darkness of the sky had been blossoming into pale pastel shades by the time you saw the entry signs for Orlando, and you could have cried with gratefulness as the journey came towards an end.

You were tired, having stopped once or twice to bolt into somewhere and grab a coffee, but you needed sleep, and as soon as the offer for such a thing had made itself known, you were more than happy to take it. The hotel felt like a godsend, the morning crawling on in as the sun rose up in early hours, the sun still a while off actually breaching the horizon, but the darkness of the sky was beginning to lighten at the horizon, and you were desperate to get some sleep.

You went to check in first, locking the car securely for the man, before registering a room with two beds for you both, opening the box atop the car to pull out your smaller bag, just enough clothes and provisions to get you through the morning until you were both awake again, before you were opening the back of the car once again. You weren’t sure how to wake him, perfectly aware of how jumpy he might be, and if he accidentally lashed out in shock, there would be a chance he wouldn't forgive himself for it, even if you told him it was okay.

Settling to place a hand on his ankle, you shook him gently, and while he awoke with a startled jump, he soon gathered where he was, letting out a little groan as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, and shaking off his slumber.

“How long?”

“About seven hours.” His eyes widened a little as he looked at you, before shuffling forwards to swing his legs over the edge of the car, and he tied his shoes on a little as he took in the area around him. “I booked us in already, and got stuff, but I’m pretty tired, so I’m about ready to crash.”

He simply nodded, reaching out to take your bag from your shoulder and swinging it up onto his own, before grabbing the keys from your hand and locking up the car. The pair of you shuffled through the lobby, one groggy and one exhausted, before leaning against the walls of the elevator as you found your room. You simply dropped the bag on the floor, kicking off your shoes as he pulled the curtains closed, before sealing the door and crashing onto your separate beds.

It was a restless sleep, your mind not even dreaming as you refreshed yourself from the long day followed by a long drive, the time taking its toll on you, and you slept in later than breakfast and almost missed lunch, but you felt like a brand new person when you woke. You weren’t sore or achy, and the crabby mood you’d felt creeping up on yourself before the rest was washed away, and the excitement of knowing that you had the rest of today, plus at least two more days without any long drives was something you were more than excited for, and you stretched yourself out across the mattress, stretching out your limbs properly for what felt like the first time in years, before flopping back onto the bed with a cheerful smile.

The hours had ticked by, the sun rising high up in the sky and you were grateful for the thick curtains that were keeping out the rays out once the heat had begun to rise. It was hot, practically scorching, and you knew it would have woken you up - if not burned you - through the window had they been left open.

“Good afternoon.”

You jumped with a little squeal, completely forgetting where were and who with for one small and blissful moment, and you sat yourself up on the bed, embarrassment flushing you when snapped to sit up straight, and he snorted out a laugh that he muffled behind his hands when he watched you do so. His hair was still dripping wet, but he had changed his clothes, and the rest of your bags had been brought in from the car too. “Well, you’re in a good mood.”

“I slept well and went to the gym, of my own accord, with no interruptions. The last time that happened, I was a new college graduate.” His brightened expression faltered a little as he thought about the memories flashing behind his eyes, before he was stepping towards a covered dish on the counter. “I woke up a while ago, and I made it down in time for breakfast. I brought you some fruit and a croissant.”

“You’re like a whole new person today.”

He swallowed thickly, but quickly handed it over to you as you brushed messy bedhead hair away from your face and to take the dish from him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress as he settled on his own. “You did something nice for me, so I’m returning the favour.” You weren’t too sure how to reply, and you didn’t want him to ever feel obligated to you, but you did want him to be able to trust you with small and simple things, and so you were willing to let it slide, this time.

“I’m going to take it easy today, but you’re free to do whatever you want, take the car, or anything.” You waved a hand at him as you uncovered the bowl of freshly chopped fruit and a pastry, choosing to begin picking at the slices of apples and strawberries first.

“What are you going to do?”

“Oh, some laundry, I only brought a couple of weeks worth of clothes, so when we get somewhere with laundry rooms, I’m going to take advantage. Wash the bedsheets, too, keep everything fresh and cosy.” You bit into the flaky treat, catching the crumbs first before they fell away into the bedding. “I also want to take a nice bath. A hot bath. Washing up at rest stations hasn’t been all that amazing.”

He chuckled, nodding his head a little instead, and mumbling an agreement to you for your statement. “I’ll hang around and help out. It’ll be good to have a day without having to do anything, we can get on with things tomorrow.”

You studied him for a second, the look shared between you both sparking something that almost felt like an understanding, like a bond of something other than hostility or impassive civilship, before offering him a genuine smile. “Wanna’ take all the washing down, and then watch a movie later?”

“Can I pick the film?”

You scowled at his bargain, but nodded, and he wore a victorious look, and you finished up your food, the rumbling in your stomach settling down as you found yourself satisfied. He sat with you while you ate, and the silence wasn’t exactly easy going but it wasn’t the same tension that made you squirm in your seat as you thought of anything to just break the silence or get away from.

He helped you strip down the sheets in the car, and fill your bag, carrying everything into the hotel and setting it all off in the laundry. You plugged the portable charger in to spark back up, and you had your bath, spending a long time soaking in the hot water and letting your fears slip away.

It wasn’t exactly the beginning you had hoped for, or the trip you had dreamed of for so long in your mind, but this was different. You didn’t mind company, in fact, when you thought about it, it was probably nice that you weren’t going to spend so long alone, and getting to share the experience with anyone as you travelled around the country was better than being lonely, but every time Mitch shut you out and built his walls back up when they crumbled even the tiniest amount mad you feel colder and more isolated than if you’d never had a companion with you on the journey at all.

He was an enigma, sometimes he seemed almost like he was happy to be there, and other time, you and the trip seemed to be the bane of his existence, and you couldn't place exactly what it was you were doing that made him open up each time, or what it was you did that made him lock right back up tight.

By the time you’d snuggled down into the bedding, he’d managed to set up the TV and somehow found Netflix, logging himself in as he scrolled the options, a bag of popcorn out on his chest that you really weren’t sure where it was from, but he nodded his head in the direction of the fresh stack of laundry ready to be taken out to the car, and you found your own bag sitting on top. Leaning across to swipe it from where it was, you were quick to rip it open, the salty-sweet smell of freshly buttered popcorn drifting up into the air.

He had somehow managed to find ‘The Vampire Diaries’, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looked at you, lips twisted up in a smirk when he hit play, a blush flooding your cheeks as the opening scene came on, and as much as you adored the program, even you could admit that it was cheesy. You marathoned the episodes back to back, listening to his little commentary when he fell into his comfort zone a little more, and it wasn’t until late into the night that the two of you fell asleep, the ‘still watching?’ question still glaring on the screen when you stirred in the morning.

Your first full and energy-filled day in Orlando was bringing you a bouncy and peppy mood, that was surprisingly not shot down the second the man awoke, he simply groaned as he looked at you pulling open the curtains, before twisting to bury his head under his pillow and flipping you off.

“C’mon, Mitch, get up!” You sat on the edge of his bed, and he nudged his leg out in an attempt to push you from the mattress as he mumbled something indiscernible into the bedding. “I had an idea today for something that I think you’ll be into..”

Your voice was higher, almost singing the words out as you tried to tempt him, and he removed the pillow, huffing before turning to look at you, and while his face was entirely blank. You’d like to think you were able to understand the subtle twitches of his lips and eyebrows by now, and that he was a little less unreadable than he liked people to think, and so you were not perturbed by what may seem angry on the surface.

“I was thinking we could go to the Kennedy space centre for the day. It seems like something you’d want to do.” He sighed through his nose, but didn’t take his gaze away from your own, and you smiled a little, shuffling up the edge of the bed a little closer to him when he sat up in his pillows, wiping at his face and blinking into the morning light, yet to speak. “Was I right?”

He looked away, rolling his eyes a little, but a small smile twisted on his lips instead of the frown you’d been expected. “Yes.”

“Ha! I feel successful!” He snorted at your statement, using his knee to push you off the edge of the bed so that he could stand up, walking straight past you and into the bathroom, the door slamming shut before you had time to start telling him about all the cool things you’d read about online, but you didn’t care, because the two of you were already off to a good start, and you were determined to keep that same vibe going for the rest of the day.

Turned out he was taking a shower, a fact you discovered after lingering around for a good five minutes before he returned, and instead, you busied yourself with getting ready, the warmer weather of being sown somewhere with warmer temperatures, and you settled on wearing a lighter sundress, standing in front of the mirror in the room to braid your air when he finally emerged again. He had shaved, neatening up the messy scruff that had begun to grow out on his chin until it was in a more tidy scattering of hair along his jaw. One hand held the towel that was wrapped around his waist while the other grabbed at a pile of clothes, and you pointedly avoided looking at him in the reflection of the mirror as you focused on the movements of your fingers.

When he came back out, a black t-shirt that only reached halfway down his biceps, and sticking to him with bits of water, and a pair of blue jean shorts on his legs that brushed just above his knees, a jacket hanging over his arm for later in the night.

“Wow, you actually look like you’re on holiday, first time yet.” He rolled his eyes, dropping his head a little and running the towel over his head until it was merely damp instead of dripping wet. When he stood back up, strands were spiking up in random directions, the look of it making you laugh at the thought of it drying that way, and you tried to hide the noise, but he raised his brows at your snigger anyway. “Your hair is sticking up in all random directions.”

“Doesn’t matter, nobody cares, anyway.”

“Yeah, at the farm, maybe!” You stepped towards him, swinging your own plaited hair over your shoulder and out of your way. “When you’re all sweaty and covered in dirt after ten minutes, but you’re on your own time now. What if you want to take a picture and you look like you’ve been electrocuted?”

He simply sighed, but you could sense the amusement that washed over him as he caved, running a palm along the top of his head to try and push it flat, making it look like it had been badly gelled, and you placed your hands on your hips, biting on your lower lip to avoid the cringe you wanted to make at the sight.

“Can I just-” You took a little step forwards, and he hesitated, brows pulling together a little, and shoulders tensing up, but he gave you a single stiff nod and allowed you to enter his personal space. Reaching up a hand, you tried to style the slightly wet strands a little bit, quiffing them up just enough to look good while taming all the strays, and when you were appeased, you pulled your fingers away, humming to yourself with pride.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” You stepped away from him, moving across the room to grab your purse, and he was holding the door open by the time you were ready to go.

“I’ll drive. I’m feeling a lot better.” You fished through your bag for the keys, dropping them in his hand as you both reached the elevator, and in return, he handed you the room key to seal away in your bag.

“You think they have those big floppy hats anywhere? I want one.”

“What are you talking about?” He pushed the lobby button, leaning against the wall and pushing his hands into his pockets, before fixing you with a quizzical look when you turned to face him.

“You know, those big sun hats. That celebrities where so they don’t get recognised.”

He shook his head, fixing you with a heatless glare as he pursed his lips. “If you buy and wear one of those hats, I will go home and face your uncle’s wrath of my own accord. I am not being seen with you in one of those.” You gaped at him, before letting your chuckle best through, and he had the decency to grin a little to himself at his own jab.

“They’re stylish!”

“They’re hideous is what they are.”

He mumbled his response as the door dinged open, rebuking your insistence on the ‘staple fashion’ item as the bickering continued on, all the way through the parking lot until you reached the vehicle, and he held the door open for you as you climbed in, slamming it shut on your argument that if it was good enough for Sarah Jessica Parker in ‘Sex and the City’, then it was good enough for you. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having any of it, ignoring you with a smirk as he started up the car, and cranking the music up so loud you winced, just to drown you out.

You took the hint, choosing to change the topic, hoping to keep him engaged in what was by far the longest conversation the two of you had participated in, in which he was actively talking with you in return. All of your conversations before this day had been mostly you talking to him, spilling every thought that passed over your mind just to stop the awkwardness from creeping back in, but today, he was chatting back. Whether it was playful arguments, subtle insults with no hostility behind them, or even just chit chat, he was taking an interest, and then, it felt like the two of you might be able to enjoy your trip, if it was anything like this.

From the second you had pulled up, he had been just as gentlemanly, and you swore you saw a flash of excitement pass over his eyes as the two of you bought your tickets, the key to unlocking him a little bit and tempting him out to being less than just a robot for the CIA may lie in his hobbies and interests, should you somehow be able to coerce him into acknowledging that he has some.

Your first stop had been to plan your visit, the two of you leaning over the touch screens as you read about each attraction, checking out a site map and trying to choose your way around. You had signed up for a bus tour, one that still had two hours until your allotted space, and so you busied yourself with the ‘Heroes and Legends’ exhibit, and the ‘Race to the Moon - Apollo Centre’, he had actually looked happy, willingly allowing you to take pictures for him in front of various things, and even standing beside you in a few as you forced him to take pictures with you when you found a good shot in front of the fountains and the rockets.

Sending them both off to your uncle as proof that you hadn't dropped him off at a bus station and fled, he soon replied, asking if you were sure that was really Mitch, or whether you’d just grabbed another shaggy and mood stray man along the road by mistake. He had let out a full-bellied laugh at the comment when you’d shown it to him, before tucking your phone back into your pocket.

The whole day seemed to fly by too fast, the bus tour crowding the two of you in, but neither of you had to drive so you were more than happy, and you had wrestled yourselves to the seats at the back, each of you by a window for maximum enjoyment of the experience, before you’d finished the day by reading everything you could, and exploring every miniature exhibit in the ‘Now and Next’ section, being completely awestruck by words you didn’t understand.

By the time you left, you both had a NASA themed jumper, as well as a shirt to send home for Stan, and a sticker decal to put onto your laptop, your purchases happily swinging by your side in a paper bag with the logo printed across the front as you made your way back to the hotel room.

The temperature had dropped a little, and you were in half a mind to get your jumper out and put it on, but you wanted to wash it first, unsure of how many people had already touched it before buying it. Your conundrum was brought to an end when warm fabric was draped over your shoulders anyway, his fingers brushing yours as he reached down to take the bag from your hold so that you could push your hands through the jacket he had given you.

His other hand was tucked in his pocket, eyes fixed ahead of himself as you walked the distance back to your car, but you nudged him with your elbow a little once it was wrapped around you and you were warm, giving him your friendliest and gentlest smile a little when he was forced to turn his sights on you.

“I think there might yet be hope for us to be friends, Rapp.”

“Lucky me.” He muttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, but he lifted his elbow from where it was folded against his body, allowing you to loop your own arm through his and move a little closer to him as you fell into step beside one another.

It was on your final day in Florida that everything seemed to go wrong, blowing up in your face for reasons that you didn’t even understand.

You were red in the face and entirely exasperated as the two of you stood in the carpark, your hands on your hips and his arms folded over his chest as you stared one another down. The air between you both was all but crackling with rage and unresolved anger, and you weren’t even sure where it was all coming from.

You didn’t exactly have the whole day, already having repacked the car and sorted out the sleeping zone in the back, just trying to decide what to do with the small handful of hours that you had to fill while it was too hot to begin a seven and a half-hour drive to Alabama for your next pitstop. He had no ideas what he wanted to do, absolutely none, saying he was just happy to do whatever, and so you’d suggested taking a trip to Daytona Beach, which seemed to be where his issue had started. Somehow, the simple suggestions had deteriorated into a row, people staring at you both as they walked past to get to their cars.

“We’re not going to the fucking beach!”

He was all but seething, and you wanted to stomp your foot like a petulant child in your frustration, but resisted the urge. “You’re not in charge here!”

“I don’t care, I’ve done all the stupid shit you wanted to do every other day!” You felt a little wounded at the insinuation, and you were sure that the hurt had flicked over your face because he seemed to flinch back a little bit at your change, before you stepped back, swallowing thickly and pressing the keys into his hand. He looked between the metal bundle in his palm and you, silence taking up between you both where raised voices had been only seconds before.

“Fine, you don’t have to go to the beach, but I am. Just drop me off and then go and do whatever you want to do for the day, and come back for me a few hours later.”

He gave you a look that made you want to scream, bursting out with rage, but you bit your tongue and resisted the urge. “What, do you expect me to just drop you off at a random beach and leave you there all day? Alone, when anything could happen?”

“Oh, relax. I won’t let Stan have your head if anything happens, you won’t get the blame for my mess.” It was his time to look a little hurt as you spat the words at him, before pulling open the passenger seat door, hopping up yourself and peering back at him. “Just take me to the beach, Mitch, I’ll be fine.”

He groaned, stomping around to his side of the car and making sure to slam the door extra-aggressively as he got in. This time when he turned the music up, it was to purposefully ensure neither of you would speak, and you fished through your bag to check that you had anything in order to busy yourself from the ruined atmosphere between you both. What had been so positive only a day ago felt like it had been shredded and burnt, and the everlasting anger that cooked you from within felt like it had been extinguished, only to come back as a raging inferno today.

When you finally saw the palm trees melt away into white sand and blue sea, you felt your nerves ease a little, relaxing into the car seat as he pulled up he car, fingers clenching the steering wheel, and you opened the door, hopping out and releasing a happy sigh at the smell of salt, fried food, and the sound of waves lapping at the shore.

“Are you really doing this?”

“Yep. You can just pick me up in a few hours. Call me when you’re back at this spot, and I’ll come and meet you.” With that, you slammed the door on him, not looking back as you began your journey down toward one of the little beach huts and stalls to find a bathroom to change in, and somewhere to buy an ice cream. It took a minute before you heard the car pull away, and you were certain he’d spent that time cursing you out and muttering insults about you that only he could hear, but you didn't care, because you wanted to sunbathe, and so you were damn well going to.

With an ice pop in one hand, and your bag in the other, you wandered across the sand barefoot, shoes in your bag with your clothes and towel tucked under your arm, freshly shining with suncream and a swimsuit clad on your body as you wiggled your toes in the soft grains and searched for somewhere to set yourself up. A couple of stray beach umbrellas were still free, and so you were more than happy to claim one of them, making your way over as you wicked at the drips of juice escaping from the frozen treat, and dumping your things down into the sand gleefully.

Rolling out your towel under the shade, you straightened it out before turning and sitting down on it as you finished up the lolly in your hand and sealed the wooden stick into the front pouch of your bag to dispose of later. You replaced it with your sunglasses and your phone, sitting comfortably on the cotton and looking out around yourself at the people surrounding you, and snapping some photos of the beautiful sight that you could print off and frame when you eventually got home.

The flapping of another towel, spraying a little sand up onto your legs beside you made you turn to look, a pair of legs in your view as somebody came to sit beside you, and you squinted at the owner of said appendages as they sat down beside you. Your eyes widened a little bit as a recognisable mop of hair came into sight, and you pushed your glasses up onto the top of the head as he sat down, tugging his shirt up and over his head to discard of it to sit with the rest of his things, a pair of swimming trunks he absolutely wasn’t wearing before on his legs, and they seemed somewhat familiar to you.

“Did you just buy those?”

You reached out to poke at his thigh, the silky blue material shifting under your touch, and he granted at the feeling. “I didn’t own any.”

You merely nodded, waiting for him to expand, but he didn’t and so you placed your glasses back on and settled down onto your back, feeling a little better at not being alone, even if his mood was sour, but it wasn’t going to affect your experience, not even a little bit. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I couldn't just leave you at the beach alone. It’s not safe.”

You turned your head to look at him, finding his legs stretched out before him, hands resting behind his body to support himself, and staring out with a distant look on his face as he watched the waves meet the shore, coming in all the way from the horizon. Something about the rasp in his voice and the tuned out look on his face made you feel a little guilty, and you popped yourself up on your elbows. “It’s just a beach, Mitch, I’ll be totally fine.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I was at a beach I got shot.” The realisation of his hatred of the location made a chilling coldness shoot along your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but he shrugged, giving you a glance out of the side of your eyes. “But, you want to go to the beach, and I don’t want to leave you, so we’re at the beach.”

You swallowed thickly, looking at him for a second, and watching as he took a deep and steadying breath. Sitting up a little more, you moved around the pole of the umbrella, perching yourself half on his towel and half in the sand, your thigh pressing to his as you seated yourself next to him. “Thank you.”

You whispered the words, but he turned to look at you, giving you a nod of the head as he watched you, whiskey brown eyes staring into your own as the tension between you both melted away. Rather than pushing your body away from his own, he shifted his arm to rest behind you back for support, before snapping his attention over to his bag. “I brought you something.”

“Yeah?”

“To say sorry for shouting at you. I’m not great at apologies, but I figured it would do the trick.” He produced a slightly crumpled but still pretty woven hat from his bag, and you laughed loudly at the sight as he reached up to push it down onto your head, the rim brushing his hair when you both settled back to look out at the ocean. The floppy hat on your head made you heart race the gesture making you warm up from the inside out. “I’m not going in the ocean.”

“That’s okay, you can stay with the stuff when I swim later.” He hummed under his breath, but twitched a little at the idea, and you pulled your legs up to your chest, reaching back across for your phone. “I’ll stay where you can see me, so you know nothing’s wrong.”

“Thank you.” You barely caught his response, and you weren’t sure what he was thanking you for; whether it was the simple act, the acknowledgement of his trauma, your forgiveness for his behaviour, or perhaps all three, but you just gave him a smile in response, the two of you finding a harmony one again as the waters of you friendship settled back out from the pebbles you’d thrown only a couple of hours prior.

He never moved from the towel, but he did watch you swim in the ocean, and he took pictures with you, and he looked after your stuff. He reminded you to reapply your sunscreen, and he laughed and joked with you after the two of you had moved on from the weight of your makeup conversation, and you decided that today had been even better than yesterday, because while you thought you’d been knocked down and your almost-friendship had ended, he had helped you up and confirmed that there was definitely hope between the two of you, there was a friendship forming.

After you had finished on the beach, you used one of the outdoor showers to wash yourself off of sand and salt, dipping back into a stall to change back into a simple sundress, treasuring the new hat on top of your head as he watched you, before you’d set off on enjoying the falling temperature before setting off on your journey. You had hotdogs for lunch, and walked along the pier, and even stopped in at some of the little gift shops, your arm linked with his as you went along, before finally getting to the car as the sun began to lower on the horizon, and the cool breeze was enough to make you shiver, the car no longer feeling like you were sitting inside an oven when you got in, but instead being a comfortable warmth to travel during the night in.

You weren’t too sure when it had happened, but you were certain that you had fallen asleep sometime after passing the signs for splitting off for ‘Lake City’, and you had woken up with a blanket tucked over your body that you were certain hadn't been there before. You stirred a little bit, a whine escaping you before you could stop it as you felt your muscles stretching and joints popping a little.

Mitch turned to look at you, his face neutral, a pleasant change to the scowl you were used to seeing, and the simple change had smoothed out the creases along the sides of his mouth, or the wrinkles on his forehead from the constant look of anger and irritation he had when he was at the farm with your uncle, and your hand itched with the urge to reach up and brush a finger over the place where the lines had once been.

“Sleep well?”

“I did, actually.” You snuggled down into the blanket a little more, muffling your yawn as you tried to shake yourself awake, despite the darkness still occupying the sky. “How long was I out? Do you want me to take over?”

“About four hours, there’s not long to go now. I was going to wake you soon anyway, I wanted to stop off for some coffee, and there’s a place up ahead. Is that okay?” You simply nodded in reply, and he returned it with a curt gesture of his own, before looking back to the open road, and reading at the signs that flashed by. You were more than happy to adjust into your morning, finding yourself taking a little longer to wake up than usual, because for the first time on this whole trip, you had felt truly comfortable in the presence of the man beside you.

No anxiety or anger was taking over, you were pushing down frustrations at his attitude and biting your tongue to stop from lashing out, but you were instead relaxed and happy, eyes fluttering a little as you tried to keep yourself away, rubbing at your eyes and sitting up a little straighter as the car began to slow down, pulling off onto a side-lane as the neon lights of a diner and truckstop just behind the trees made its presence well known to anyone travelling on the highway.

Finding a parking space was easy, one a decent distance away from everyone else, the car safe at the back as you hopped out, and you were begrudging to shed the blanket from your shoulder as the cooler air swept over you, arms wrapping around yourself instead. It wasn’t actually all that cold, but going from the coziness of sleep haze and blanket wrapped tenderness, to standing on your feet when you’re barely stable in the middle of a truck stop car park was a different story.

“Cold?”

The car flashed as it locked beside you, and you nodded a little, but forced yourself to peel your arms down from being wrapped around your body to sit at your sides. “I’ll be fine once we get inside, I was all snuggly under my blanket. Thanks for that, by the way.”

He offered you a flick of his lips in return, patting his pockets for his wallet and finding it in the front pocket of his hoodie, adding the car keys to it, before making his way over to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, you were curled in a little closer to his body, as he guided you across the lot, eyes peering around suspiciously as he took in everyone and everything he saw, from the placement of the car to the smokers standing outside and blowing clouds of smoke up into the air, his CIA training never letting up as he instinctively observed and memorised the area as best he could.

You were correct, the second you got inside the doors of the diner, warm air washed over you, and you let out a hum of contentment at the feeling, his arm dropping from around you as the two of you found a booth, settling in on opposite sides of it. You had a large mug of black coffee in your hands only minutes later, a large order of a breakfast meal at the all-hours kitchen felt like a god-send, and you blew the steam from the top of your mug as you watched Mitch stir creamer into his mug.

“So, can I ask a question?”

“I would love it if you did.” He rose a curious eyebrow at you, and you rose a single shoulder in a slightly embarrassed shrug, before taking a sip of the warm drink and letting out an inaudible moan into the drink, already feeling rejuvenated just from the first taste. “You don’t talk to me much, it would be nice to become more like friends on this trip instead of strangers.”

He ducked his head a little, and you worried you’d crossed a line, but when he looked up, he almost looked happy, and you brightened up yourself just at the sight. A smile from Mitch Rapp felt rare, but you were receiving one right now, and you were basking in the glory of it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend. I’d really like that.”

“So, what was your question?”

“I wanted to know what the fuck we’re doing in Alabama.” His words were blunt, and you couldn't help the sharp laugh that left you, his eyes twinkling at the sight, before he was chugging almost half of the contents of his mug in one.

“It’s more of a stop off, really, to stretch our legs. Otherwise it was, like, a ten-hour drive, and I tried to split up most of the long drives as much as I could.” You shrugged, swilling your drink a little before taking another long sip of it. “I found this store that sells lost luggage, and you never know what kind of cool things we could find there. It’s like thrift shopping but even more obscure shit than thrift shops have.”

“Sounds fun.”

“We can get back on the road by later this evening, but I was also thinking we could stop somewhere and get a drink if we have time. There’s a bar that’s called ‘Rattlesnake Saloon’, I think, and it seemed fun. It’s only like a four-hour drive from where we’ll be down to New Orleans, so we can get it all done by the end of today.”

He agreed silently, and you took that as your queue to stop your internal monologue, the progress the two of you were making was too much to risk him backing out of if you overwhelmed him by talking non-stop just to fill the silence, but it seemed that he had different ideas; “How do I not know about you? I’ve been around for years, now.”

“I don’t come around so much. Uncle Stan comes to see me every Sunday for dinner, he updates me on everything, he just doesn’t like me hanging around over on your side, because if he’s off with trainees, he doesn’t really trust them not to get distracted.” It was a vague answer, but Mitch nodded like he understood, and made sure that he caught your eye as he tried to find his next words.

“For the record, if you did ever want to come around, I would like to see you.” He offered a smile, and you grinned into your mug, thanking the waitress as she placed down the meals before you both, cutlery soon following it, and your stomach rumbled slightly as the smell of the delicious plateful reached your senses. “So, when you say he updates you on everything, what kind of things do you know?”

“Oh, do you mean about the CIA black ops divisions, the Orion team specifically, or are you asking what I know about you?” His eyes widened a little, before he let out a deep breath, nodding his head with a small laugh that was masked by his sigh. “You’re surprised.”

“No, I’m relieved. I didn’t want to have to hide anything from you.”

You weren’t too sure how to reply, so instead you busied yourself with your hashbrown, the two of you falling into casual conversation between bites of food as you ate, opting to change the conversation to something a little more lighthearted, you were the main focus of the conversation, no matter how much you tried, you didn’t get through to him, he didn’t share much about his past, the things you didn’t know, but that was okay, because he was asking about you, and at least putting the effort in to get to know you. Another two cups of coffee were in your system before the sun was beginning to make its presence known, and the two of you decided that the rest of the journey was due to be completed. You took on the drive this time, and while you had insisted that it was okay for him to sleep, he opted against it, snoozing a little bit keeping up the conversation.

It seemed that the heavier weights of conversation had come crashing back over you both once you were back on the roads, dust kicking up behind you both as you continued on your adventure. The lost luggage shop was fun, the two of you seeming to shift through everything in that store, the hours passing far more quickly than you could control. You left with a pair of wireless and soundproof headphones, and a purple plaid jacket that Mitch said made you look like a lumberjack, and if it was three sizes too big and super baggy? Well, that was just even better.

He himself left with a new sports watch, his last having bee smashed by a recruit during a fight, and a pair of sunglasses with blue-tinted lenses that made him look like he was something from an intense spy film, the scowl and his body language only adding to it, and you couldn't help the picture you took as he did, showing it to him, and he’d quickly agreed with you.

As it turned out, despite how long you’d spent in the little store, you did have time for one drink at the bar you’d found, taking pictures of everything from the drinks to the cowboy style to the creative cliff top overhead, staring up at it in awe as you watched the nature from above grow over the top. You grabbed a quick bite to eat, to soak up any excess alcohol, before the two of you were on the road once again, with you excitedly singing along to the music as you drove, and Mitch poking fun at your driving, the light-hearted humour carrying you all the way along on the shorter drive towards Louisiana.

It was the asscrack of dawn by the time the two of you arrived in New Orleans, having swapped over on the driving a good two or three times, despite the tiny drive that it was in actuality, but you’d stopped a couple of times along the way at several little gift shops, and once to take a walk along the edge of a sweet little lake just outside of New Orleans, Lake Pontchartrain, the two of you watching as the sun came up over the water glittering across the slightly rippled surface, and you had found yourself once again tucked under the man’s arm, this tom daring to loop your own around his waist as you walked, and when you stopped, only detaching when you got back to the car for the final piece of the journey.

You had to admit, it was nice for you too, to be able to make a friend that understood everything about your life. A friend who understood that sometimes you would temporarily drop off the radar, and why you lived in the middle of nowhere, and why social media wasn’t exactly a big thing for you. It was nice to feel understood, and helping Mitch rediscover who he was was without the pain and suffering of his past and his job, was helping you to discover who you really were, and helping you work through some of your own issues.

You’d always been the most important thing in your uncle’s life and so he’d done his best at any given time to make sure you got everything out of life, but being so closed off from the world had made it difficult for you to get to know the social nuances of other people, and so you and Mitch were a learning experience for one another at the same time.

Your hotel was on Bourbon Street, because as you had so eloquently pointed out mid-yawn when he’d asked you ‘if you were serious’, you had confirmed that yes, you were very serious, because there was no what that you were going to come to New Orleans and not stay on Bourbon Street. You checked in and found your two beds, barrel even remembering to pull the curtains closed as you both made it through your nighttime routines, scrubbing at your teeth with minty toothpaste and changing into pyjamas, before crashing on your beds without another word other than some mumbled goodnights.

It was your alarm clock that woke both of you up, a shrill ringing that you’d forgotten you’d set and hadn't turned down, wanting to get up and have a shower before you got on with your day, and the sleepy man had glared at you from his bed, rolling over and face the wall as you snickered behind your hand. Sweet-scented shampoo and a very bubbly soap had refreshed you entirely, snapping you into your morning and giving you the wakeup call you had so desperately desired.

He was still in bed when you emerged, your clothes already on and simple skincare for the day completed, and your hair was still damp, but you weren’t willing to let the day slip away. “Mitch, get up!”

“No.” You barely heard him, before he was pulling the covers up and over his head as you yanked open the curtains, and he groaned out at the motion. You made your way over, standing on the edge of his bed and kicking at his legs from above, to which he promptly kicked back. “Go away, I thought this was supposed to be holiday hours.”

“It is a holiday! But I only have this room for two more nights, which means we only have three days in New Orleans, and I want to get some of the signature pastries from Café Du Monde before they sell out of the freshest batch!” You teased, and his messy bedhead poked up above the blankets.

“Pastries?”

“Freshly baked beignets.” You said, a sing-songy tone to your voice, and he sat up a little further, noticing that you’d caught his attention. “Little fried fritters, in powdered sugar. You can get coffee too, and fruits.”

He stared at you for a long minute, before seeming to crack, and he shook his head. “Fine, let me shower first, and I want a lie in tomorrow.”

“Deal!”

You watched him go, the bathroom door slamming at the water started up, and it took him about as long in the shower as it id for you to dry your hair, and the second he’d pulled on a change of clothes and prepared himself alongside you, he ruffled his hair dry on a towel, tipping it towards you for you to sort the strands, and he gave you a false glare for the giggle you let out at the action. Sifting your finger through his hair, you flattened them down into a reasonably decent smile, but not without making a comment about how he needed a haircut, to which he promptly shut down as he pushed you a little out of the way and headed to the door.

It was a short walk to the café, a warm breeze washing over your legs, even though it had barely reached midday yet, and as promised, you had been served the freshest of the pastries that the two of you could get, Two portions between you both, and several cups of coffee, you also split a fruit bowl, nibbling on the juicy treats as you chatted. You bought a box of the coffee to send to your uncle, taking it home forever as you collected it up, as well as a couple of the mugs that caught your eye, and Mitch had even purchased one for himself, brushing his finger over the lettering and the logo on the front as he purchased his first real souvenir of the trip.

Your next stop was the post office, the man shooting you a quizzical look as you went, browsing through boxes and shipping labels, before gathering up all the supplies that you needed.

“I figured we could box up and mail all out souvenirs and purchases back to my Uncle, and he can collect them up and keep them safe, so that they don’t all get lost or damaged in the car, and we don’t get overwhelmed.”

“If I send something back to be kept safe, your uncle will give it to the recruits to play soccer with before we get back.” He teased helping you carry all of the shipping items you’d purchased out of the door and back onto the street, the sun now shining down warm and clear from above.

“Send it all in my name. If we box it all up together, it gives me an excuse to see you once all this is finished, when we get home.” You spoke the words earnestly as you made your way back to the hotel, to spend the better part of a few hours wrapping, labelling and shipping it all, and he turned to look at you, face a little unreadable.

“You don’t need an excuse.” You were a little frozen once again, the lines between comradery and friendship between you both becoming blurred, but you still weren’t sure where you lay with it, and then his face split into a teasing look. “Unless I’m sick of you by then. I may have to hide when I hear you’re coming over.”

“Oh, shut it.” You jabbed your elbow at his side, his training making it easy for him to duck and swerve out of the way in time, which only resulted in a large grin taking place on his face. “By the end of all this, you’re going to be missing me like crazy. You’ll be calling and begging me to come and hang out with you.”

“Sure thing.”

You had just about made it in time for the post office, the woman a little perturbed at not being able to close up fifteen minutes early, but you’d left a healthy tip in the labelled jar beside the counter for her, knowing that the number of boxes labelled ‘delicate’ to all be shipped a good few states over was a hassle for her, but she completed it without complaint, and you couldn't have been more grateful.

It felt like a task taken off of your plate, leaving you both with a worry and stress-free evening to spend in New Orleans, quickly settling on getting the full experience, and going for a few drinks at a jazz and blues bar. Neither of you had to drive, and so you were able to indulge in a few more drinks than you had so far, your hotel only a short walk from the bar you’d chosen.

Bourbon Street by night was alive with energy, buzzing with excitement and thrill, and you could feel the atmosphere lifting you up onto their level, the idea of people getting to live here and experience it everyday making you prickle with a little jealousy, but you knew it was only as special to you now because you’d never experienced it before, that it was a rarity and something to be treasured, not envied.

The buildings were a mix of modern and ancient, still holding their beautiful French architectural designs with the balconies and the stylings of their decorations, but being lit up with neon signs that gave the entire road an ethereal kind of colourful glow. You felt pulled in every direction, not wanting to miss a single thing, and the pictures you took with the bright backdrop had been breathtaking. Blues and pinks and yellows, all glittering from signs above and around you, the kind of vibe that felt surreal while you experienced it, and made you wonder whether it was all just a dream when you thought about it later that night, laying in bed as your heart still raced.

New Orleans was beautiful, and your second day had only been more fun.

“I have a plan, Mitch!”

“You promised me a lie in!” He growled, and you took a seat on the floor beside his bed, placing your arms across the mattress and balancing your chin atop them, waiting for him to surface from the disturbance of the covers when you did so, a small giggle on your lips when you felt him shuffle, before glaring at you when his eyes finally met your own.

“I did give you a lie-in! It’s midday!”

He huffed, reaching out for his phone on the nightstand and almost smacking you in the head with it when he reached back, barely being able to duck in time, and from the look on his face, you couldn’t decide whether or not he'd done it on purpose. As though he hadn't believed you, his eyes widened as he checked the time to see that you weren’t lying to him, a few minutes fast twelve, officially making it the afternoon, and he groaned under his breath, running a hand over his face.

“Do you want to sleep longer?”

He gave you a pointed look, as though to say ‘duh’ without actually speaking the words, and you offered him a small smile, ducking your head again when he shifted to put his phone back down, placing his head on his pillow and closing his eyes once again, shutting you out in silence. “Give me, like, another hour and a half.”

“That’s cool, I’ll come back and get you later, we can go for dinner!”

You shuffled away from the bed, backing away across the floor as you took your hands from the mattress, standing up again and brushing off your pants of the dust and dirt it had collected when you’d sat down. A hand locked around your wrist, honey-brown eyes peering up at you, narrowed and curious. “Where are you going?”

“I want to go and check out all the places they filmed any and all scenes that had a Mikaelson in.”

“Another TV show tour?” He mumbled, letting out a low breath as you nodded at him excitedly.

“I would almost be surprised that you hadn't seen ‘The Originals’, but you haven’t watched ‘The Vampire Diaries’ either, so I’ll let you off.” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, hugging his pillow a little closer to his chest, his cheek pressed into it.

“Vampires aren’t my thing. Plots always suck.”

“Woman don’t watch the shows for the pl-” You paused, looking at the cheeky flick of his lips as you gasped. “Did you just make a vampire pun?”

“Yep.”

“It’s like I’m meeting a whole new person.” His eyelids shifted a little, and you could’ve sworn he’d actually rolled his eyes at you with his eyes closed, which isn’t something you would have put past him.

“Give me another half an hour, then, and I’ll come with you.” He sighed, turning away from you and waving a hand at the curtains you’d opened as his face scrunched up, and you closed them once again, the fabric barely doing anything to hide the light in the room that was coming from the bright sun sitting high in the sky.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to.” He mumbled, and you nodded your head, taking a seat beside his legs on the end of his bed when he shifted them to the side and dragged the covers out of the way, letting you sit and wait for him as he snoozed a while longer, and you took the time to go through the list of places you wanted to visit. While you were well aware that not all of the filming was actually done in New Orleans, there were definitely a handful of places that you could see, and you were all but exploding with anticipation at the chance to do so. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

He sounded like he was barely present for the question, somewhere between this land and a dreamscape, but you turned to look at him anyway, despite knowing he wouldn't be looking back. “No plan, just figured we could go with the flow, or whatever.”

“We could go check out the ‘LaLaurie Mansion’, could be fun.” You gasped, staring at him in pure shock, and he cracked a smile at your reaction, stretching a little as he rolled over. “What, you’ve never seen American Horror Story?”

He was using your own words against you, pushing himself up to sit as he blinked into the light a little, and you shook your head to clear it, before grinning at him with a smile you didn’t even want to prevent. “Looks like you do know how to have fun, after all.��

He stuck his tongue out at you childishly, retracted his leg up the bad and you weren’t quick enough to move, being sent into a pile on the floor with a yelp as you were removed from the mattress, and he hummed in victory as you lay on the ground. He stepped over you a second later, looking at you on the floor with a smirk before swiping up some clothes and his toothbrush from the bag of his toiletries on the side, and switching on the cold tap to splash some water on his face.

You were practically pulling him out of the room ten minutes later, knowing that he was purposefully dragging out everything he did, changing his shirt three times just to make you wait, and with both hands on his forearm you’d dragged him all the way to the main door of the building before releasing him when he finally stopped dragging his feet and digging his heels in, laughing at your eager desperation to get on with the day as it approached one o’clock, and you still had things to do.

Tucking yourself under his arm to keep out of the way of others on the busy street, he adjusted you a little, his hand hanging over your shoulder as you pulled up the map on your phone for you both to see, covering your own eyes, as the sunglasses he’d purchased from the luggage shop in Alabama sat on his face.

“Thanks to someone changing his outfit like a diva, we lost a whole bunch of time.” You mumbled, his laugh rumbling up beside you.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“A whole bunch of time.” You nudged him in the side with your elbow, feeling him raise his hand from your shoulder temporarily to flick your ear, and you rubbed at it absentmindedly while looking at the directions on your phone. “Figured we could walk from here to the Lafayette Cemetery, it’s only an hour's walk, but our tour isn’t until five tonight, so we can take our time and check out other stuff while we go.”

“We’re taking a tour of a cemetery?”

“Yep!” He gave you a look like you were far too cheerful about the prospect of walking around a graveyard for a while, but you purposefully ignored looking at him. “First up, St. Louis Cathedral.”

You took photos in front of the beautiful building, the sun lighting up the exterior until it almost looked as though it was glowing, and it all seemed all the more natural that it did, a blessed appearance taking over your photos. You explored that end of the French Quarter in detail; visiting a Voodoo shop, even backtracking far enough to go to ‘Boutique Du Vampyre’, taking your time going around the store, checking out everything within the colourful and quaint little gift shop, the crowded building feeling out of place in the elegant and organised streets, like you’d stepped into an entirely new place when you’d walked through the door.

You listened to music and dropped change in the cases, cups and hates of almost every street performer you came across, and tried snacks from every street vendor you reached, sharing out the treats between you both as you made your way along, stopping at any and everything that caught either of your attention. You ended up with more photos than you’d expected, leaving you with a rapidly filling camera roll, hours worth of work when you finally got home and were able to sort through them all, printing off your favourites to build into a large photo album, ensuring that you’d never forget even a single moment of the trip.

After your tour of the cemetery, learning more than you thought there was a history to be had, and getting a chilling vibe all the way through, the two of you had settled on the Delachaise Wine Bar for your dinner, sampling different glasses and sharing them out as you filled up on french fries and bread rolls, before making the slow walk back to your hotel, seeing everything once again on you return, but this time by night.

The day had passed faster than you’d expected or hoped for, and yet, it was filled with priceless memories, the late hour making everything seem entirely new and different from the ay it had in the day, everything you passed seeming like a new building, signs lit up with glowing lights and the cheery and upbeat music from the day had taken on a lower and more sensual tone, changing with the mood as the early evening turned to night, seeing you off into your hotel with a smile on you face and a head full of thoughts that you’d never forget.

“So, I did a bit of research.” You started, and he turned to look at you, lowering his phone for a second from where he’d been taking photos, his attention now on you, waiting quietly for you to continue. “Turns out, that whole iconic witch’s walk in that one episode is outside of a restaurant and bar, and it’s only a few streets over. It’s called Vacherie Restaurant, and I made us a booking.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You were waiting with bated breath, hoping you’d made the right call, your suspicions being confirmed when his face cracked with a bright smile, and you let out a relieved sigh.

Much like he had spent the entire day with you yesterday exploring the sets and shooting locations of one of your favourite TV shows, you were now doing the same for him, the two of you wandering around the end of the French Quarter you hadn't yet gotten a chance to explore, taking in everything before you. Your first stop had, of course, been the LaLaurie Mansion he’d been so excited about, the man having been the one to wake you up this morning, pulling you from one end of the bed to almost falling out of it, hands on your ankles tugging you down the mattress until you’d been giggling and kicking at him as he dodged you, prompting you to get up so you could make the most of your third day.

It was only a short walk, the two of you grabbing to-go breakfast from a little café to eat as you walked, coffee and a breakfast burrito in your system waking you up considerably as you prepared yourself for the day. Neither of you had all that much of a plan, some quick googling as you walked had done wonders, however, guiding you through the already crowded streets as you made your way towards your various destinations.

Some were closer and some were further, the two of you working to create a list of your destinations, making your day a little easier to navigate. You were due to be on the road again by tonight, already having repacked the car and checked out of your hotel, but you were armament to spend as much time soaking up the sun and walking around as you could, before you were back on the road for a long drive up to Texas.

“So, when are we booked in?”

“I figured we could go for a late lunch, before we see the house they used for the academy, since it’s down in the Garden District, and we have to head that way anyway to get back on the main road.” He nodded, before he was reaching out to you a little, holding up his phone.

“Want to take a picture with me?”

You put your own away as you agreed to the request, his arm wrapping around you as he held up the device away from you both, positioning you to be able to see the house in the background, a smile on his face as you beamed brightly at the camera and squinted at the sun.

“I used to record and photograph everything, you know. I loved it, keeping a hold of my memories and all the moments that mattered, but for the last few years, there hasn’t been anything worth remembering, so I stopped.” It was a heavy confession, and you weren’t too sure what he was expecting from you, whether he was looking for comfort, or simply to get something off of his chest, but heat crawled up his face and made his cheeks tint pink as he looked at you, waiting for a response.

Instead, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, pulling him into you as his arms hung at his sides, your bodies pressed together in a hug, and you felt the way he stiffened underneath you, you laughed muffled as your shoulder pressed into his chest. It took him a minute to respond before his arms were wrapping around you lightly, holding you in return as his cheek pressed into your hair, and then, he was squeezing you like his life depended on it.

Only for a second, but he let his walls down, and then he was letting you go, breath rushing back into your lungs from where it had been squeezed from you, and his face was even redder than it had been, eyes shining a little, but he didn’t have his defensive stance or aggressive expression. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mitch.” You hooked your arm through his, immediately soothing the tension building by asking if he wanted to stop by the patisserie shop you’d passed by on your way over here, getting a whole boxful to take with you in the car to snack on as you drove across the country to your next state.

You visited the ‘Marie Laveau: House of Voodoo’, before moving on to taking a wander around the St. Louis Cemetery to look at the crypts, before going for your lunch. It had consisted of thrilled discussions about everything you had done, comparing and swapping photos as you ate, and talking about the bits that you’d personally found the most enjoying. It wasn’t just the time in New Orleans that you discussed, but you managed to force him to open up about the rest of the trip you’d taken so far, the things he had fun doing even if he hadn't been willing to admit it at the time.

With full stomachs and smiling faces, you’d piled back into the car for the first time in days, upon making the walk back to the hotel parking lot. It was almost strange, having spent so much time on your feet and using the vehicle as little as possible, opting for you to drive the small distance down to the Buckner Mansion, the final location used as you drove along, through the Warehouse District and down to the Garden District, mitch taking pictures out of the windows as you went.

After his confession, which neither of you had risked to speak of again, he seemed like he was finally accepting that it was okay for him to live his life, and to admit that he was having fun, actually wanting to take photos and record the sights he was seeing, to relive them once you’d left and gone home.

You couldn’t go inside, but you could walk around the garden, peering inside as you leaned dup to the windows, and taking pictures on the steps up to the front door, talking about all the scenes that you could specifically pinpoint, and making the most of it, before having to leave as the lower light began to fade and the night came in, ushering out the warmer temperatures as a cool night breeze came in.

You flipped a coin, deciding who would do the first half of the journey, Mitch calling heads as it came spinning back down towards your hand, and that side had been the one facing upwards at you both when you’d both studied it, the man cheering to himself, even though you insisted it wasn’t much of a prize to have to drive for several hours in the dark when he’d rather be sleeping, but he was just happy to have won something.

Houston was your next destination, hoping to reach it by the time the morning rolled around, the shift between you both in New Orleans only making you happier about the rest of your journey to come.

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago

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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 32

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 32

The stage was lit up with twinkling silver and blue lights. A black-haired girl with bangs was surrounded on the raised stage, her delicate chin nodding to the beat, matching the drumbeat as a new song began. The men and women on the dance floor were cheering and screaming loudly. Coupled with the sound of the glasses shaking like dice on the table beside him, the noises hit Lin Yan's temple like a chisel and pierced straight through his skull. Lin Yan downed the rest of his whiskey. He sank into the sofa, crossing his arms and legs, staring blankly at the stage.

There was a whistle from the crowd. Several boys pushed Weiwei onto the stage. She tried to wave her hands in protest, embarrassed. When she found that there was no getting out of it, she just laughed and followed the black-haired girl's dance steps. She danced even better than the other girl. Her overalls and beret were tidy and sophisticated. She moved like a queen dressed in casual clothes, and each of her confident expressions looked vibrant.

There was a wave of cheers. Not only were the guests who came to celebrate Weiwei's birthday cheering, but even the rest of the bar patrons stopped to cheer for her. Lin Yan gave a depressed smile. This scene was so familiar to him. This time last year, they were having a passionately entertaining and wild time. Back then, he lost the game and was punished to rush onto the stage to take off his shirt. He kissed Weiwei with his shirt off, earning the envy of the audience amidst the roaring cheers that almost blew the roof of the bar.

Lin Yan cast his gaze to the ceiling. The small bright blue spotlights were magnified into a blurred mess. His drunken state dulled his senses, but he was still very much aware. An empty space of air isolated him from the joy and noise of the crowd. He drowned his sorrows in the dark corner alone, isolated and miserable. There wasn't a lonelier feeling than witnessing the happiness of others. Lin Yan filled his glass with more alcohol. The half-melted ice clinked against the side of the glass. The whiskey dried out his throat, his face burned. . .

A chill covered his hand. Lin Yan shrugged him off. He kept silently muttering: leave me alone, leave me alone.

I'm really pissed off.

My life shouldn’t be like this. Xiao Yu, do you think that this is the day I'm supposed to be living? I'm tired of being on edge every day for something I can't even see, not knowing whether I'll live or die. Every day I’m locked in my apartment learning fucking Maoshan techniques. Why me? Why did you pick me?

"Lin Yan!" Weiwei waved at him vigorously from the stage. Her cheeks, damp with sweat, glowed. She was like a butterfly fluttering in glimmering gold glitter, "Come here. Dance with me."

Lin Yan held the table and tried to stand up, but his legs were too weak to listen to him. He shook and flopped down again. He lay across the table, feebly waving his hand at Weiwei

The queen gracefully leaped off the raised stage. She moved through the crowd on the dance floor and walked towards him. Her thin figure and loose overalls looked beautiful, and she impatiently pushed away the men that tried to come up and talk to her. Weiwei pulled up a chair across from Lin Yan and sat down. She fanned her face with her hand: "It's boring to drink alone. Give me a cup and I'll join you."

"Here." Lin Yan slammed his cup on the table. He picked up the whiskey bottle and slid it towards Weiwei. Before she could respond, he took a big swig of his own drink, the spicy liquid pouring into his stomach. "I haven't wished you a happy birthday yet. Cheers."

He felt himself laugh. even though he felt like crying. Through his drunken gaze, Weiwei's champagne-coloured image was dangling in front of his field of vision in a hazy glare, familiar and untouchable, like in the good old days that were never coming back. Just get absolutely wasted. He didn't have to think about this stuff if he was blackout drunk. Lin Yan unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, tilted his head onto the back of the sofa, and took another sip.

"What's wrong? Happy-Go-Lucky Comrade Lin Yan drinking booze? Unheard of." Her long slim hand unscrewed a bottle of black tea, a string of silver bracelets clinked as her wrist shook. Weiwei handed the drink to Lin Yan: "Water it down a bit. You'll end up puking later. We're all celebrating my birthday. You got yourself drunk. I'll take it as a sign that you still haven't moved on from me. I might have to take a few measures."

Lin Yan hummed. He turned towards Weiwei, his warm breath mixed with the stench of alcohol hitting her face: "What kind of measures? Like giving me your body?"

Xiao Yu sat off to the side, his icy gaze piercing Lin Yan's heart like a thorn. He avoided Xiao Yu's eyes. Under the influence of alcohol, everything he had been through recently was fighting to come out. He suppressed his thoughts and pushed them down, but he wanted to cover his ears and scream his mind at the top of his lungs. But he couldn't say anything. No one would believe him. The only thing he could do was open his eyes and try to find a way out of the lonely darkness. Lin Yan irritably tugged on his collar. He took Weiwei's wrist and pulled her against the back of the sofa, leaning forward to face her gold-dusted eyes. Why not? Why shouldn't he do this? This was the life he deserved!

Weiwei froze. She struggled to free herself from Lin Yan's grip: "You've had too much to drink. Give me your keys. I'll take you home."

Another wave of dizziness washed over him and the ceiling spun in circles. Lin Yan couldn't help but bend over and dry heave a few times. His stomach flipped. He staggered, supporting himself on the table, and moved towards the bathroom. He couldn't support himself but, before he could fall, two hands wrapped around his waist to catch him. Lin Yan turned his head, confused, and bumped into Weiwei. It was just like old times - nothing had changed. The only thing that had changed was him. He had been dragged into the darkest corner of the abyss by invisible forces, endlessly falling, unable to find anyone who could save him.

It was a warm and soft embrace, with the unique scent of a woman's perfume. It was completely unlike the one he was used to; the chilly aura, cold and untouchable, his slender fingers, his thin waist. . . The secret and sinful fantasy he was imagining made Lin Yan shudder and burn with shame.

"Stay away from me." Lin Yan panted heavily. He covered his mouth to keep himself from vomiting: "I'm a fucking walking plague. Anyone who touches me is cursed."

He dropped like a sack into the back seat of his car when Weiwei drove him home. Even the cold wind that kept pouring into the car couldn't keep him conscious. He couldn't remember how Weiwei's slender body managed to help him into the elevator. In the darkness, he instinctively grabbed onto the person next to him. He could smell her sweet orange-scented lipstick. Her shoulders were too narrow to lean on. . .

The hem of a red dress flashed around the corner of the stairs and a silver bell-like giggle sounded from the depths of the corridor. Lin Yan's heart sank.

This desolate corridor led straight to hell.

Lin Yan struggled to pull out his keys. When Weiwei's arms wrapped around him from behind, he bit his lip and roughly pushed her away. "This isn't what I meant." Lin Yan frustratingly pulled at his hair: "You need to go. Don't stay here."

"Let's start over." Weiwei played with the shiny silver bracelets on her wrist. "I'm not seeing anyone either."

"I'm with someone already. I'm getting married." Lin Yan gritted his teeth, a chill shooting down his spine: "Hurry up and leave! Are you listening to me?"

"You still don't want me. You always tease me and never want me." Weiwei's eyes grew desperate. "What's wrong with me? What is so wrong with me that you constantly have to tease me like this?"

"Go. You need to leave now." Lin Yan's gaze moved behind Weiwei's shoulders and focused on the tall dark shadow behind her. His cold face was overwhelmingly volatile. He saw Xiao Yu's hands and protruding knuckles wrap around Weiwei's throat, commanding, domineering, and selfish eyes staring back at him. Lin Yan shook his head. He staggered into his living room and slammed the door in her face.

I just want to go back to my old life. What's so wrong with that?

Xiao Yu coldly looked down at his embarrassing state, his frigid body lingering in the darkness like an endless nightmare.

I can't do this anymore. I can't live in this hell anymore.

Lin Yan knelt on the floor, his head leaning on the sofa, sobbing like a child. Why do you have to take everything away from me? I would give anything to go back to the life I had before. No more ghosts, no more curses, no threat of imminent death. I want to be able to go to my parents’ house for dinner with my fiancée and watch boring news broadcasts every night. Will you let me have that again? Will you let me go?

The violent dizziness made it impossible for him to stand back up. Cold hands hugged his torso, wrapping around his waist, and pulled him down onto the sofa. Lin Yan helplessly held his head in his hands. Now I can't even get a fucking hard-on when I'm with her anymore. Xiao Yu, you bastard. You owe me the life I deserve!

Icy lips covered his. He nipped at Lin Yan's tongue, sucking up the blood that oozed from the bite. The possessive kiss took Lin Yan's breath away, his face flushed red. Xiao Yu suddenly let go of him. He clutched his shoulder and said: "Lin Yan, don't mess with me."

"Who the fuck is messing with you? Who's the one provoking who here?" Lin Yan stared at him with red-rimmed eyes and whimpered: "Aren't you the one who wants to follow me? Why shouldn't I do that? There's nothing that can happen between us. I wouldn't be able to tell my parents about us. I wouldn't be able to tell my friends anything. I'll be a bachelor for the rest of my life in everyone else's eyes. Xiao Yu, you’re dead. You’re a ghost. Why are you forcing me to do this? You took everything from me. I don’t want to like men. I don't want to be gay. I don't want to be treated like a fucking psycho that talks to the air!"

Lin Yan fell onto Xiao Yu's shoulders and cried, cursing. He had never been so wronged or humiliated like this before. However, Xiao Yu just sat silently, his expression chillingly frightening.

After a while, he pushed Lin Yan away and strode towards the bedroom. When he came out, his arms were filled with a bunch of things. Upon closer inspection, they were all things left by Weiwei when they broke up. Lin Yan had wanted to keep them as a memento. He didn't want to throw them away.

"What are you doing!?" Lin Yan's voice trembled.

In the next second, he understood. Lin Yan curled up on the sofa, watching Xiao Yu throw everything Weiwei-related he had in the apartment in front of him. Pyjamas, slippers, the box with an engagement ring inside, the bag he hadn't gotten rid of yet, a teddy bear, matching couples mugs, photos; everything was destroyed one by one in front of him. Ceramic cups were smashed into pieces on the ground, pieces of fabric falling like bits of snow. The whole room was a disaster.

"Stop it, this is my home!"

The sound of torn cloth tore through his head like the sound of a chainsaw.

"That's enough. . ." Lin Yan said with a low, dishevelled voice.

The destruction didn't stop there. Her toothbrush was snapped and thrown on the ground, nail polish was spilt everywhere, her umbrella was slashed into threads. The ghost carried on like no one else was in the room. Soon the living room floor was covered in debris. Chairs piled with all the items tumbled to the floor.

Xiao Yu yanked off all the buttons on a long skirt and then tore it in half with a sneer. It fluttered to the ground, covering the ripped-up teddy bear on the ground.

The last thing Xiao Yu picked up was a velvet jewelry box holding the engagement ring he bought for Weiwei. Xiao Yu took out the sparkling little stone and snapped it off, forcing it into Lin Yan's chest. The deformed ring bounced into the gap between the sofa cushions, disappearing for good.

"Lunatic! You're insane!" Lin Yan had a splitting headache. He covered his face and looking at the room full of debris. A photo of him and Weiwei was on the ground, torn down the middle, and Weiwei's face had been scratched into a deep black hole. He trembled with anger and incoherently screamed at Xiao Yu: "You. . .you're such a jealous man! Have you finished venting yet? Get the hell out! This is my home!"

Xiao Yu raised his chin and coldly said: "No."

"What the fuck do you want. . ."

Before Lin Yan had finished speaking, Xiao Yu was already fiercely kissing him.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi

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bubbyleh · 4 years ago

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trick or treat!

Needless to say, when Darnold gives them all their Illusion Charms, Gordon is shocked. With the power of magic, he suddenly looks just as he did on his last night alive, like there’s blood in his veins and air in his lungs. Looking at his reflection when he wears the charm almost makes his head spin.

Joshua, meanwhile, has the exact opposite reaction. He gets all giddy, grabbing onto his face and giggling as he stomps his feet. And his happy little shouting of, “Look, Daddy! Look!” pretty much yanked Gordon right out of his shock.

And an idea plants itself in his mind. An idea that means, unfortunately, he’s going to have to get used to looking like a human again.

†††

Gordon finds Joshua sitting on the floor of the den, playing with his cowboy toys with Bubby and Coomer. Joshua mimes the sound of an explosion and launches his cowboy right into the air, causing his two grandparents to laugh.

“Hey there,” Gordon sits with the rest of them. “What’s going on here?”

Joshua gasps, immediately rushing to begin climbing all over Gordon. “Daddy! Daddy! The cowboy is going to space! He’s going to the moon!”

“The moon?” Gordon asks.

“It’s the best place to go,” Bubby explains. Coomer nods sagely beside him.

Suddenly realizing the time, Gordon addresses Bubby and Coomer. “You guys are usually asleep by now. Joshie isn’t keeping you up, is he?”

Bubby rubs their arm. “Oh, well, actually-”

Coomer interjects, raising a finger as he speaks. “Since Darnold’s Illusion Charm has the added bonus of protecting me from the sunlight, I thought it would be a great idea to try and get on the same schedule as the rest of you!”

“It’s kind of lonely when you’re the only two awake,” Bubby mumbles, crossing their arms.

Gordon chuckles. “Well, since you aren’t sleeping…” He wraps an arm around Joshua, pulling him in close. “I thought of something we could do, now.”

†††

Joshua loves Gordon’s idea. The kid is technically two-hundred and seven years old, but only now is he finally going to get to go trick or treating for the first time! Not only that, everyone is on board with going costume shopping today. It quickly becomes a family trip to Spirit Halloween, rest in peace to the poor retail worker.

They end up finding about a million different cowboy costumes for Joshua to try on, but the second Joshua points out an adult cowboy costume, Gordon and Benrey decide they need to dress up with their son.

It takes a while, but eventually, everyone makes their purchases and heads back to the crypt. Upon seeing the sheer volume of shopping bags, Joshua’s eyes light up.

“Let’s do a fashion show!” Joshua shouts, jumping up and down. “We can show off all our fun costumes before we dress up!”

Bubby is almost too excited.

†††

Gordon knew he should have expected something dorky and cute after Tommy and Darnold disappeared into the realm of couple’s costumes. But somehow they managed to blow his expectations right out of the water with matching carrot and peas costumes. They even somehow managed to find Sunkist a matching pumpkin costume.

“Wow,” Gordon states as Joshua gives the best applause he can. He feels a little silly, being one in an audience of three cowboys, but Benrey nudges him into clapping as well.

“So, what do you think?” Darnold asks. The green of the peas costume provides an interesting contrast to his literally orange glowing eyes.

“Me ‘n Feetman in a year,” Benrey comments.

“I’m not wearing their hand-me-down costumes next year,” Gordon deadpans.

Benrey rolls his eyes. “Ugh.”

Taking that as a compliment, Tommy and Darnold join the audience on the floor. Sunkist flops down next to them, lazily wagging her tail.

Forzen comes out of the door to the kitchen next, wearing a striped shirt, suspenders, and a black beret. Honestly, he’d look like the perfect mime if it wasn’t for his lack of makeup.

“I, uh, only have so much paint,” he sheepishly explains. “And it’s bad for my gills, so I wanna wear it with the illusion.”

Joshua nods understandingly, offering a few polite claps of his hands as Forzen settles on the couch behind him.

A hand forces Coomer, dressed as a turtle, out of the kitchen next, and he offers a small wave. “Hello, Gordon!”

“Hi.” Gordon waves back.

“Bubby wanted me to go next so I would cheer for them in the audience!”

“Turtle!” Joshua shouts.

“Excellent animal identification skills, Joshua,” Coomer notes as he sits down besides Gordon and the child. “Now can you guess this next one?”

And with a great flourish, throwing down firecrackers that Gordon’s very sure they all agreed not to set off in the house, Bubby appears. They have their hands on their hips as they flaunt their frog costume.

“Oh! Frog?” Joshua looks to Coomer for confirmation, who nods.

Once they’re satisfied with their voguing, Bubby settles down next to Coomer.

“Wait,” Gordon says. “I thought you were the last-”

He’s interrupted by Gman exiting the kitchen, wearing a sheet with holes cut into it over his head.

Gordon pauses for a moment. He blinks.

Then, Joshua starts laughing. And he can’t help but join in. Soon enough, all of them are laughing with each other, at the sheer ridiculousness of a sheet ghost werewolf.

†††

“Trick or treat!”

The old lady who answers the door for Joshua smiles at him, glancing back at the group of disguising monsters standing on the sidewalk in front of her house. Gordon politely ignores the crappy zombie decorations littering the lawn. Benrey, meanwhile, keeps bugging Bubby about their frog costume, while Coomer grins between them. Tommy and Darnold seem more focused on stopping Sunkist from running off to introduce herself to every other trick or treater on the sleep, and Gman’s just happy to be there.

“Goodness!” she grins. “You have quite a lot of adults with you, don’t you, cowboy?”

Joshua nods excitedly. “They were all so excited to come with! I’m gonna share my candy with them!”

And though it’s a heartwarming scene, a terrible realization settles in Gordon’s stomach. One that, maybe, he should have taken into account earlier.

Joshua can’t eat candy.

#this has been done for a few days. thats why i sound more coherent in there #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #frenrey #gordos freeman #joshua freeman #benrey #dr coomer #bubby #dr bubby #darnold #tommy coolatta #gman coolatta #my writing #on a dark and dreary night

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blondrichclosetwitch · 3 years ago

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I am graphically yours

big brother

“ Lord, I’d take an overdose if you knew what was going down.”

someone to fool us

give me Steel

(I just got another of your emails. I’d love to talk to one of those other girls you harassed.hit me up, girls)

There’s no love lost

It’s perverted and spiritual

he wants to chain and shackle you

It’s a lie on a seat of a night when you’re bawling like a baby

if you could only crack the code(The Code! Twice!)

Calling all angels

This has played a couple times… Seems to be the message is about turning against everyone that you supposedly love. Also about the ever present threat of the bomb, personal and professional.

“ we’ve been shaking all night.”

Every minute there is something to break down for.

We can share a room, share a bed, save rent as cell mates

we won’t let ourselves become the art.

I’ve seen some things that I won’t forget

“It was so obscene. And then I saw jesus and he said “who are you to go against the word of my father?” And “who are you? The scum of the earth”.

They were falling to pieces right before my eyes. and there was one guy there who kept asking me “how does it feel”? And I didn’t even know how to begin to answer that question. so I just said “I don’t want to talk about it “ and then my dad showed up. “

Friends are better with drugs

“You know, you’re gonna see her everywhere.”

Bookmark sweet nuthin

Tamra davis was a very influential feminist 90’s director/creatrix of worlds:

“100%, sonic youth: A dual narrative video (I guess, who can tell with these things?) about a skateboarder who goes to a flop house full of cool kids hanging out, being kind of chill, listening to Sonic Youth play really loudly in the middle of their living room. While Thurston towers over everyone and Kim wears the hell out of a Rolling Stones shirt, the sad skateboarder gazes out the window as he thinks back on his Thrasher days with pro-skater, turned actor, turned Scientologist Jason Lee, who gets killed somehow. Maybe by the police — maybe a broken neck. A bummer either way. He shakes out the cobwebs and goes off to get laid somewhere (presumably)

“Kool Thing: Probably the best of Davis’s Sonic Youth videos, “Kool Thing” is like a middle-school love letter to beret wearing, white people scaring 60s radicals. Kim rolls around her aluminum-foil covered bedroom, singing seductively to her cat, asking Chuck D to help free her from male, white corporate oppression. Speaking of male, white corporate oppression, Kim wanted to wear a beret and parade around with an Uzi in this video, but the stiffs at Geffen shot her down. Fear of a female planet, indeed.”

Make a new cult every day to suit your affairs

have you and her been taking pictures of her obsession?

they never know it because you never show it you always get your way

it went to her head , but when she’s on her back she had the knowledge to get her what she wanted

I met a boy who went through one of your sessions

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lone-survivor-six-tales · 3 years ago

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Ain’t That A Shot in The Head Ch.5

"You look bored as hell."

Arcade looked up from the faded Programmer's Digest magazine he was reading when Six approached with a bag full of medical supplies for Julie. After helping Julie restock the Followers' supply cache she went to sit down with Arcade who was trying to get ED-E to stop trying to cuddle with him.

"I think he likes you." Six laughed when Arcade almost lost his glasses to a particularly hard nuzzle to the face.

"I wish he didn't. You'd think he thought he was a dog or something." Arcade grumbled, adjusting his glasses while ED-E returned to Six's side.

"Hey speaking of dogs. I'm taking The King's dog to get a new brain. Want to come with?" She asked, giving ED-E a pat on the top of his body. "Since Boone is stuck in bed, I could use the company."

"Why would I want to go galavanting around the desert looking for a brain for a dog?" He asked, brow raised as he stood up, stuffing the magazine in his coat pocket.

"Because you've been reading the same magazine for the past two days and look like you need to shoot something?"

Arcade sighed at the grin on her face. He only knew her for two days now and yet he knew that grin meant she won. "Point taken, let's go."

--------------------------------------------------

"So let me get this straight." Arcade said, sitting on a stack of tires while Six checked the jar containing the replacement brain for Rex in her bag. Before he could continue, Six piped up with a smirk.

"You? Straight? That's hilarious."

"Shut up before I drink your last sunset sarsaparilla," he replied before continuing. "You have amnesia due to your shot in the head but remember you lived in a vault, most likely in the Capital Wasteland, travelled with a ghoul and most likely traveled with him to New Vegas before getting shot for the package you were delivering."

"That's pretty much it. I don't know for sure if he came with me but I get the feeling that he did. I just hope the bastard that shot me didn't do anything to him." Six sighed, whistling for Rex to return to her side after wandering off to sniff a cactus. Arcade was silent as Six gave Rex some of her water. When Six looked back at him she could see something was troubling him.

"Arcade? You alright?"

Arcade quickly looked up and shook his head, dispersing the thoughts that ran through his head. "Yeah, just thinking." He stood up to join Six and Rex as they continued their walk to Jacobstown where Six found a doctor that could replace Rex's brain. The walk to Jacobstown was mostly quiet save for the usual attack by bandits and creatures which were quickly dealt with by Six and her improved rifle. Soon The silence was broken by Six with a tentative question.

"How did you know you like guys, Arcade?"

The question surprised him, not expecting such a question out of nowhere and it took him a moment before he could reply.

"Can't remember exactly when it happened but I started realizing I enjoyed the companionship of men over women sometime around my twenties. What brought this up?"

Six looked away, kicking a stray pebble that skipped ahead of them before rolling into a hole in the asphalt. "I just remembered something I said in one of my memories. I said something about being forced to have a kid to continue the population. While I definitely didn't like that idea, I felt like there was something I wasn't telling my dad. I mean, I know I like guys and girls but the thought of having a kid with someone I didn't even like? It just felt wrong."

"To be fair if someone shoved me into a room and told me to make a kid I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be up for it either but," Arcade reached out and placed a hand on Six's head, pushing her beret over her eyes and making her yelp at the sudden darkness. "Maybe you're not the type for random one night stands. You could be the type that likes to get to know a person before you sleep with them. Not judging or anything but I'm not the type that likes to talk about my tragic backstory before getting it on."

Six snorted, nudging him in the side with her elbow as she fixed her beret. "Are you sure you're not a psychiatrist? You seem to know just what to say to make me feel better."

"It's only with you, I usually end up saying something to piss someone off more often than not." Arcade nodded to the building that they were slowly approaching. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like it if we finish this and get back to Freeside before it gets dark.

"Sorry Arcade but it'll probably take at least an hour for the doc to replace Rex's brain. We'll probably be camping either here or on the road back."

"Oh goody, I'm so excited I could die." Arcade sighed, following Six as he continued to complain to the laughing woman. Arcade decided to stick with Doctor Henry while Six wandered outside to talk to the nightkin tending to the bighorners. Once Arcade was sure that Six was outside he walked over to the doctor who was busy removing Rex's old brain.

"Hey Henry, I have a question for you. Do you remember any of the old files from some of the vaults the enclave visited?" He asked quietly, making sure no one could hear them.

"I remember a few, terrible experiments Vault-Tec did. Why do you ask?"

"Does the name Charon ring any bells?"

Henry paused for a moment, looking over at Arcade with a concerned expression before returning to his work on Rex. "I remember hearing that name from a vault experiment from Pennsylvania I think. Where did you hear that name?"

"The girl that I'm with is looking for a ghoul with that name. I remember you talked about someone with that name before and wondered if they're the same." Arcade looked out the window, watching Six getting hugged by the nightkin she was talking to.

"I would hope they're not the same. From what I remember from the report, the scientists that were running that vault were slaughtered and the three subjects that were created there escaped. Their goal was to make emotionless slaves that would do whatever their master said. I can't imagine that girl traveling around with a walking killing machine."

"You could be right," Arcade mused, watching Six as she pet one of the bighorners. While he wanted to believe it was just a coincidence, he couldn't help but think the odds of two people with such a unique name was hard to believe unless that person's parents enjoyed reading old world writing.

"Well either way, it's nice to see you again kid, how have you been?" Henry changed the subject as he began the process of transferring brains. Arcade shrugged, moving away from the window to lean against a nearby wall.

"Alright I guess, I'm thinking about traveling around with this courier. She's the one that has been talked about on the radio recently.

"The one shot in the head? I wasn't expecting you to be traveling around with such a celebrity." Henry said sarcastically, making Arcade chuckle.

"Well it beats wandering around the fort for hours on end." Arcade replied, raising an eyebrow when Six returned with the nightkin following in behind her.

"Hey Arcade! Guess who's coming with us!"

"On second thought, the fort might not be too bad."

---------------------------------------

"You should eat more vegetables dear."

"I'm good Lily, thanks."

"Oh you're just like my grandson Jimmy, he always didn't want to eat his vegetables."

Six snickered as she watched Lily try to give Arcade a plate of roasted jalapeno peppers. After relenting and taking two peppers, Lily turned to offer some peppers to Six which gave Arcade a chance to throw them into the darkness surrounding their camp.

"I don't think she realizes eating that many peppers would ruin our insides." Arcade grumbled to Six after Lily offered to take the first watch for the night.

"She's just trying to be helpful. I'm sure she's just happy to be feeding us." Six replied as she set up her bedroll. Arcade set up his next to her and Rex flopped down between them happily.

"I guess. Her trying to scold me reminds me of when my mom used to scold me for spending all my caps on bubblegum as a kid." Arcade mused, laying down and looking up at the stars. Six laughed, imagining a little Arcade trying to sneakily chew bubblegum and getting in trouble when caught.

"I don't remember my mother, I don't think because I lost my memories but I think because she died when I was young. I remember there was some passage she liked but that's all I know about her."

"Revelations 21:6?"

While he couldn't see her face, he knew she was probably looking at him shocked. "When you were unconscious you were talking in your sleep. You mentioned it but that's all we heard." He didn't think she wanted to know that he also heard she wanted to die so he kept that to himself. Six nodded, laying down which Rex took as a sign to lay his head on her stomach.

"Yeah, I don't know why but it feels important. It feels like the more I try to remember, the harder it is to recall." Six raised her hand to the sky, imagining herself reaching for the memories that were just beyond her grasp. She hoped that when she found Charon that he could help her recall her memories. Boone, Arcade and Lily have told her stories about their life but she had nothing to give in return. She wanted to laugh about stupid things she did as a kid or talk about trouble she got into but she couldn't do anything like that with her memories a blank slate.

"Arcade, do you think I'll ever get my memories back?"

"Do you want the optimistic response or the realistic response?"

Six snorted. "Realistic, I can't imagine you talking optimistically."

"Damn right," Arcade chuckled, rolling on his side to face her. "Usually amnesia goes away over time but since yours is due to a gunshot wound there could be a chance that some memories are permanently lost. The fact you've been slowly regaining memories though is a good sign. The fact you're in an unfamiliar environment might also slow the recovery process since there's nothing familiar for you to recall but if you find Charon then talking with him could speed up your recovery."

Arcade could see in the firelight Six smile and a tear streak that slowly began to dry in the evening heat.

"Thanks Arcade, you really should be a psychiatrist."

"If that's the case then that'll be two hundred caps."

---------------------------------------

Boone raised an eyebrow as Six entered the fort followed by Arcade, ED-E, Rex and Lily. While Arcade went to talk to Lily, Six headed over to Boone with a grin on her face.

"Looks like you found a few friends," Boone commented, looking down at Rex who walked over to sniff Boone's hand. He gave the furry part of Rex's back a pat which made the dog wag his tail excitedly.

"Yup, plus I got enough caps to get us a passport into the strip. How are your wounds?" Six asked, noticing that he was wearing his usual white shirt again and standing pretty well without needing support.

"I just got the all clear. I'll be good to go when you're ready." Boone replied, making Six grin.

"Great, also I ran into a trader and got you this." She dug into her bag and pulled out a rifle scope. Boone didn't hide his surprise as she passed the item to him. "I remember you mentioned that your scope lens was cracked and the trader said this should fit your rifle."

Boone didn't know what to say and silently took the item and placed it in his bag. After a few moments he looked back at Six who was shouting at Arcade to hurry up so they could go.

"Thanks."

While he said it softly he could see Six's smile widen as she looked back at Boone. "Let's get going."

"I've got your back."

#fallout fanfic #fallout OC #fallout new vegas #fallout 3 #craig boone #arcade gannon

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firaknight · 4 years ago

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I’m going to explain my entire crossover AU (Fountain of Dreamstone AU) up to what I’ve got so faR AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME— /lh

Aight so—

This AU is basically a very selective crossover of Mario and Luigi: Dream Team and Kirby. That’s breaking it down to the bare fucking essentials.

The long version is this:

Shits going down in Dreamland. Nightmare Wizard is back (somehow) and the bitch stole the Star Rod again. All of Dreamland begins to experience frequent nightmares, including Adeleine and Ribbon. For a while, Ribbon is able to make a type of fairy dust that can stop nightmares, but she’s got an extremely limited amount of it. Before long, there’s no longer enough to share between the two. Adeleine lies and states that she’s been nightmare free for a few days (that’s a giant lie) and that Ribbon should keep using the fairy dust. Ribbon, who doesn’t realize Adeleine is very obviously lying, agrees and starts using the fairy dust on herself from then on. Adeleine starts staying up for days on end, only sleeping for short periods of time (30 mins-1 hour) to stave off total exhaustion. Whenever she does sleep, it’s incredibly light and the slightest things wake her up (it’s to make sure she doesn’t sleep deeply enough to cause a nightmare). Nobody’s able to really do anything about it either. Kirby, MK, DDD, and a bunch of the other Star Allies have mysteriously gone missing, with Kirby and DDD being the only two to know where the Fountain of Dreams is located. Without them, nobody knows where to look to put a stop to Nightmare.

At some point, Ribbon decides her and Adeleine should go on a walk. Clear their heads, take a bit to relax. Adeleine, who is clearly exhausted, agrees and they head out. During their walk they come across a strange stone buried in the depths of the woods just by their house. The stone is shaped like a pillow and it sure as hell doesn’t feel like a stone. Ribbon, jokingly, dares Adeleine to try and sleep on it to see what happens, and Adeleine, who physically can’t refuse sleep at that point, takes the dare.

(Pictured above: Art I drew of that exact scene)

Adeleine flops down onto the “stone” pillow and within moments she’s out cold. Ribbon is shocked she managed to conk out that fucking fast and realizes that maybe, just maybe, Adeleine had been lying before about “getting good sleep and not having nightmares,” but it’s too late to say anything now. All she can do is wait until Adeleine wakes up.

Cut to Adeleines POV and she “wakes up” in a very strange place. It’s a void of melded together colors and she appears to be floating in midair. There’s a voice that calls her over to a strange swirly portal and, being the exhaustedly curious kid she is, she follows it, diving through the portal and ending up in a weird dreamscape that looks nearly identical to where she was before she fell asleep, except things are funky because she’s pretty sure it’s a dream. That same voice calls out again, but somewhat louder and clearer, and she follows it, eventually coming across this giant, purple, almost crystalline rock. The voice appears to be coming from it, and it looks like something is stuck inside, although the rock isn’t clear enough to see through. She attempts to ram into it and the rock cracks! Surprisingly, she’s completely unharmed (normally that act would leave her with a bruised shoulder at the least)! She rams it again, and again, and again, and the rock breaks! Whatever was stuck in there flies out, reforms into god knows what (she can’t see it because it flew up above her and she barely had any time to react to it), and before she can even begin to comprehend what happened, the portal she came through widens, creating a vacuum-like force that pulls her in without warning.

Cut back to Ribbon, who’s been timing how long Adeleine is out for (if she passed an hour without any sign of waking up, Ribbon would’ve taken matters into her own hands). She’s starting to get worried, up until she notices the “stone” Adeleine conked out on starts moving, with Adeleine showing signs of waking up. Within moments, Adeleine opens her eyes and sits up, a little frazzled. They exchange looks and Adeleine gets spooked by something appearing behind her, whipping around to find some small prince, probably a little taller than Ribbon, floating behind her. He’s got a pillow shaped head (which could be his clothes, she’s not entirely sure), looks kinda human-esc, and is very small compared to her. He gives his thanks for rescuing him and asks if Adeleine was the one to free him of his prison. Adeleine, who has no idea what just happened, answers with a meek “maybe” while she tries to process the situation.

This incredibly tiny man tells them his name is Prince Dreambert, and that he was sealed away by Antasma many years ago. He hails from a place known as Pi’illo Island, and has no idea where he is, how he got here, and why he’s here. Adeleine and Ribbon give their names, tell him he’s in Cloudy Park, part of one of the far corners of Dreamland, which is nestled on Planet Popstar. They mention that everyone’s been having nightmares recently and ask if he’s got anything to do with it. Dreambert brings up Antasma again and mentions he might be a cause, giving a detailed description of what he looks like.

(Pictured above: Antasma using the power of the Dark Stone)

Adeleine realizes that the description fits the criteria of a reoccurring figure multiple people have spotted in their nightmares and mentions it, adding in that a villain from their world, Nightmare Wizard, may have teamed up with Antasma. Dreambert realizes that this world could be in grave danger if those two aren’t stopped and asks to join up with Adeleine and Ribbon to help them find Antasma and Nightmare and put a stop to them before it’s too late. The two agree and the three of them venture out to put a stop the the baddies.

🪐Here’s some extra notes:

Combat has to happen, of course, and I wanna style the roles after M&L:DT so it’s a little more streamlined. Real world combat functions as normal, with Adeleine and Ribbon functioning like Mario and Luigi, partnering up for some attacks but able to fight on their own. Dreambert kinda hangs back and gives assistance when in dire straights. Dream World exploration and combat are wildly different. Adeleine takes the role of Mario (with similar abilities to Dreamy Luigi), venturing through the Dream World, but she’s asleep instead of jumping into a portal whilst awake. Dreambert functions like Dreamy Luigi, giving Adeleine his powers whilst in the Dream World and helping in combat. Ribbon takes on the role of Starlow during those segments, staying in the real world and interacting with Adeleine and the things around her to trigger things in the Dream World.

Giant battles would still be a thing, just triggered and handled differently. Adeleine can’t conjure up dreamy copies of herself (she has no idea how to do that), and relies heavily on Dreambert for help in combat. When an enemy too big to fight approaches, she winds up cowering in fear, going into self-preservation mode to try and keep herself alive. Her real world body yanks her beret over her eyes in fear, probably crying. Ribbon, who’s worried for her, attempts to comfort her, triggering a reaction in the Dream World. Magic swirls around Dreamy Adeleine and allows her to size up to the enemy. During this time, a small Dream portal opens and Ribbon is able to fly in to provide assistance. She functions like Mario during the giant battles, using her abilities to double up attacks, but requires time to recover from pushing herself to help. Once the fight is over, Ribbon is forced out of the Dream World while Adeleine turns back to normal and finishes whatever she was doing there. It’s unclear why a Dream portal opens when Adeleine is in severe distress, but Dreambert theorizes its a reaction triggered to get help from the outside world, possibly from someone who could enter and help, like Ribbon.

During the fight with Antasma, who can take away Dreamy Luigi in the canon game, Dreambert winds up being the one taken from Adeleine. He’s probably just held onto and Adeleine simply needs to hit Antasma hard enough to make him let go, in contrast to Antasma sealing Dreamy Luigi in a nightmare orb and forcing Mario to figure out which one Dreamy Luigi is being kept in so Mario can break it.

Idk what the other bosses would be (including the giant fights), but the final fight is Nightmare Wizard and Antasma teamed up.

Also, it looks like the other Star Allies met a similar fate to the Pi’illos, like Dreambert. How they’re going to be rescued is a mystery... ;)

#fira knight screeches #fira makes braincells #fountain of dreamstone au #YEAH I DID THINGS #I know it’s a bad AU the Mer!AU is way better but I gotta indulge or else the universe will conspire against me and change hyperfixations #it’ll be a little better once I flesh it out a bit more #long post #< just in case the readmore thing doesn’t work

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umbry-fic · 3 years ago

Text

Just a Sunny Day for You

Summary: On the final day of Summer Break, Hikari and Tairitsu spend a completely normal day together.

Fandom: Arcaea Characters: Hikari, Tairitsu Relationships: Hikari/Tairitsu, Hikari & Tairitsu Rating: T Word Count: 5218 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 15/03/2021

Notes+Warnings: Brief mentions of blood. Spoiler warning for the main story up until Black Fate. May deviate from any story packs released after Black Fate.

AU fic that has fluffy moments and... other stuff. Title from Yorushika's song.

~~~

The heat caused the air to shimmer before Tairitsu’s eyes, the cawing of crows echoing in her ears. She sighed from where she was kneeling on the sidewalk and pulled out yet another corner of the slice of bread she had gripped in her hand, throwing the crumb down at the feet of the crows that gathered around her. If someone walked by now, they’d surely give her weird looks. A girl dressed to the nines feeding crows alone was a strange sight. But the air was devoid of the slap of shoes against pavement or the rumbling of wheels against asphalt.

Sweat ran down her face as the heat pressed oppressively down on her. Not even the parasol that she had propped open above her head did much to shield her from the angry afternoon sun, hanging high up in the sky.

How long more was Hikari going to take? Tairitsu felt like she would melt if she remained in the open any longer. Not to mention how icky her hair felt now, matted with sweat and clinging to her scalp, a few stray strands sticking to her brow that she had to keep tucking away. The hair she had neatly combed and tied her black ribbons through, adorned with light blue roses, was surely ruined now.

The thought itself made her scowl. She’d put in so much effort, and the weather was ruining everything.

“Tai!”

The familiar peppy voice and sound of footsteps from behind her caused the murder of crows to take off, blotting out the sun for a split second with a cloud of black feathers. Staring up into the sky with a sense of loss she couldn’t explain, Tairitsu stood up, brushing any remaining crumbs off the ruffles of her dress.

“You’re late,” she muttered, picking up the parasol and twirling the wooden handle as she turned to face Hikari. Inexplicably, the crows had all disappeared. She couldn’t spot a single one anymore - not on the rooftops of the shops that lined the street, not on the curb, not on the street lamps. They were just all gone.

Hikari looked quite different from the last time she’d seen her. The white sleeveless T-shirt with a bear print on the front, blue denim shorts, flip-flops and low pigtails presented quite a different picture from the pure white school blouse and skirt, pink jacket, covered shoes and ponytail. It was a complete transformation from formal student to casual teenager.

Tairitsu found both… What was the right word to describe it? Adorable, in the same way a silly hamster would be.

“I know you’re late for every committee meeting, but I thought you’d make it on time today,” Tairitsu continued, hoping her immense disappointment was being expressed. Honestly, if she wasn’t meeting up with Hikari, she would have left long ago for having wasted her time.

“I’m so sorry, Tai. I didn’t forget! I just underestimated the amount of time the bus would take on the expressway…” Hikari apologised, bowing her head.

“You forgot to account for the traffic jams, didn’t you?” Typical Hikari.

“Yeah. Sorry. But I only made you wait for fifteen minutes! That’s not bad.” Hikari retorted, pumping her arms in the air.

“Any extra time spent in the sun is enough to kill me,” she replied drily. Gah, the fabric of her multi-layered dress was sticking to her skin. It felt disgusting.

“Don’t you think that’s your fault?” Hikari joked, moving closer and touching the pleated capelet covering Tairitsu’s shoulders, which was on the same level as Hikari’s nose. “I know you like dolls, but wearing a dress with this many ruffles and wearing tights for a summer’s day out is suicide, even if I will admit you look very pretty. Though you’re always pretty. But the umbrella is just overkill.”

“F - funny that you would say that when you’re still wearing that same stupid hat,” Tairitsu bit back. “And it’s a parasol, not an umbrella. Learn the difference.” She willed herself not to blush as she fixated on the word “pretty”. Did Hikari truly think that? She’d dressed up in this outfit she’d hand-made to get rid of the drab school uniform, but did Hikari think she was pretty in that too…?

How did Hikari say something like that so absent-mindedly? She looked like she’d already forgotten the words had ever left her mouth, smiling in a carefree manner, pink eyes sparkling with merriment.

“Hey!” Hikari put her hands on the top of her red beret protectively, shooting Tairitsu a glare with no heat behind it at all. “I will let you know I like this hat.”

“Hard to tell when you wear it every second of every day.”

“Let’s get going. Alright?” Hikari grabbed her hand, tugging her along and causing her to stumble a few steps forward. Had she not picked up on the sarcasm at all? “We’re never going to get to the beach at this rate.”

“I hate sand,” Tairitsu sniffed, resisting the urge to grip Hikari’s hand tighter. Her palm was so soft, and her fingers so agile. “It gets everywhere, and it’s going to ruin this dress.”

“But you still agreed to come.” Hikari grinned mischievously, shielding her eyes with her free hand. “The sun really is glaring today, huh?”

Wordlessly, Tairitsu adjusted her grip on the parasol so it cast its shadow mostly over Hikari. All she was doing was preventing the complaints that would surely leave Hikari’s mouth. Yes, that was all.

“Let’s end summer break with a bang!” Hikari yelled, waving her arm in the air with that undying enthusiasm she always held.

Today promised to be… interesting.

~~~

The soft, elegant tap of Tairitsu’s boots against the concrete as she walked with slow, deliberate strides of the same length clashed with the loud, erratic slap of Hikari’s flip-flops. Hikari didn’t have the same qualms about keeping a regular step, skipping down the pavement and humming under her breath. Occasionally, she’d return to the shade of Tairitsu’ parasol before jumping out into the open again, twirling with careless abandon.

Tairitsu would normally have been annoyed. The sun had only gotten more intense, and she hated unnecessarily loud people. They broke her bubble of concentration, shattered the peace she valued.

But she was too occupied noting the way the stray strands of Hikari’s hair fluttered through the air as she danced down the street. Their numbers were increasing by the second as her pigtails fell apart from the sheer force of her movement.

The joyful smile on Hikari’s face was too distracting. Tairitsu couldn’t get angry right now, too busy soaking in the warmth Hikari exuded. She was like a tiny starburst of energy, but the light she emitted wasn’t overpowering or destructive like a supernova. It was uplifting, for Tairitsu could never feel tired when Hikari was nearby, but it was also soothing, like any wound could be healed in her presence…

“Ooh! Look at it, Tai! It’s so pretty!”

Hikari paused in the middle of posing like a crane, arms raised to form a straight line level with her shoulder and right leg lifted for balance. Her face lit up as she caught sight of something in a nearby display case, and she ran down the sidewalk to press her face up against it.

Taking advantage of Hikari’s momentary pause to finally catch up to her, Tairitsu did a cursory once-over of the contents of the display case. Standing inside were various mannequins displaying the shop’s wares, which consisted of every style of outfit imaginable. There was a cute dress adorned with ribbons and a bow tie, accompanied by an asymmetrical jacket that flowed out behind it. There was a crop top not unlike the designer shirt Hikari wore now, paired with a pink skirt and belt. There was also a simple but elegant pink dress, patterned with flowers at the bottom.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tairitsu spotted a white, tiered dress with light pink carnations attached with a jacket thrown over it. Swallowing in her suddenly dry mouth, she turned to see the outfit that Hikari was busy ogling.

It was one of the shop’s summer wear - a white shirt with short, frilled sleeves with a ribbon attached to it, a blue, pleated skirt and a white overskirt.

“I think it’d look cute on you,” Tairitsu commented, closing her eyes and imagining the outfit on Hikari. She would look like a short princess. “All outfits would, with your lack of dedication to proper posture.”

Hikari giggled, spinning in another circle. How she wasn’t dizzy by now, Tairitsu would never know. “It’d be so fun to twirl in! Could you imagine the skirts just spinning around you? It’d be such a pretty sight!”

“Would it? I feel like you’d just become an indistinguishable blur of blue and white.”

“Oh.” Hikari stopped mid-spin, pondering. “I guess I would. But still, I’d like to try it at least once.”

“Well, would you like to go in and buy it?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. I’m not going to make you go in. I know you hate mirrors, and they’re all over clothes shops.”

Focussing on her reflection in the display case, all Tairitsu could see was her pale face, scrunched brow and blue eyes holding just a hint of fear.

The surface of the display case shimmered, and she looked away.

“I doubt there’s an attendant in there anyway,” Hikari muttered. “There’s no one around.”

Tairitsu blinked, scanning the street to verify Hikari’s words. She was right. All the shopfronts appeared to be shuttered - even the display case they were currently in front of was dark. Behind the row of roofs she could see, there was nothing but a cloudless blue sky, a single shade of blue that spanned her entire view. There were no high-rise buildings to be seen looming impressively over the shops, nor was there any sign of life apart from two crows perched on a street lamp. Not a single soul, apart from them, populated the streets.

There was an almost unnerving silence. Not even cicadas could be heard chirping.

How had she not noticed this before?

“It’s the last day of summer break. All the students must be preparing for school, so the shops decided not to open.” That was a reasonable explanation, right?

“That makes sense! Whatever Tai says is always right!”

“I’m not an omniscient God, Hikari,” Tairitsu scoffed, happy that Hikari had affirmed her guess. “And how did you know I don’t like mirrors?” It’s not like she declared that fact to the world or made it super obvious. She didn’t run screaming from every reflective surface, that wasn’t practical and was far too dramatic for her tastes. She just actively avoided looking into them for longer than necessary.

“You tell me.”

“Huh?” Tairitsu turned to look at Hikari, confused as to whether she had heard correctly. That had seemed almost hostile.

But Hikari only smiled sheepishly, knocking herself on the head with her fist. “Sorry, messed up the words there. I meant to say that you were the one who told me! How else would I know?”

“Right,” Tairitsu muttered, the knot that had formed in her chest loosening just a little. It was simply a silly mistake Hikari had made. But she had no memory of ever telling her this. Searching back yielded nothing.

“I wonder why. Maybe you’re a vampire, Tai!” Hikari said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Vampires don’t exist, stupid. It would be nice if I was one. Then I could just sit around every night in elegant outfits,” Tairitsu replied, taking another step forward and hoping Hikari would follow. She didn’t want to spend another second in front of the display case. She couldn’t explain why apart from the growing sense of unease in her heart.

“That would be very much like you!” Hikari laughed, falling into step next to Tairitsu, thankfully. Instead of rushing ahead as she had before, Hikari instead hung by Tairitsu’s side, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Is there something you want? If it’s the dress, I can make one that’s as close as possible for you. But it won’t be ready by the end of today.”

“No, that’s not it, though it would be nice if you did that for me.” Hikari grinned, a sight that warmed her heart every time she saw it. “I was going to ask you what homework we have.”

Tairitsu sighed. “You haven’t done it, right? Even though today’s the last day of summer break. When were you planning on doing it? On your way to school tomorrow?”

Hikari grimaced, shrugging. “Maybe? So, uh, would you mind telling me what we owe the teachers? I didn’t note it down.”

Tairitsu searched through her mind, clinging on to the notion of “homework”. But instead of alighting upon the memories, she reached only a plain of blankness. “I… I don’t remember.”

“But you’ve always had the homework perfectly memorised!”

“I finished it in the first week, so it probably slipped my mind since I didn’t need to remember it anymore.”

“Aw, you’re too model of a student! Ah, but it means I can’t rely on you now! That’s terrible, Tai! Why would you do this to me?”

Tairitsu let out a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding. Things still made sense. But the words “why would you do this to me” echoed in her head, refusing to disappear. What was this vice gripped around her heart? “It’s your fault for being so absent-minded in the first place, Hikari. Don’t blame me.”

It wasn’t her fault.

As they continued their trek towards the beach, Tairitsu sneaked a glance back at the shopfront. The two crows she had spotted earlier had landed before the display case, staring back at her with beady black eyes. Somehow, the dress that had been tucked away into a corner was now front and centre, illuminated by a red spotlight. It turned the white of the dress to a bloody red, giving the illusion of a garish wound and dripping blood.

Dread settled in the pit of Tairitsu’s stomach and she deflected her gaze back to Hikari’s bright face. She was aimlessly chattering on about the most mundane of topics, a much-needed bout of normalcy after the strangeness of the last few minutes.

She needed to stop imagining things and get her head back in the game. Today was a day to be enjoyed, not soured by the dreadful terrors her mind was conjuring up.

It wouldn’t be fair to Hikari.

It wouldn’t…

~~~

“Here’s yours, Tai!” Hikari handed over one of the two popsicles she had bought from the nearby vending machine. It was wrapped in pastel pink packaging with the word “cherry” emblazoned across it in capital letters and the company’s font.

The two of them had finally made it past the shopping street and emerged onto the bridge that overlooked the ocean. It was low tide right now, the azure waves lazily lapping onto the cheerful yellow sand and leaving behind trails of playful foam. The gentle breeze brushed through Tairitsu’s hair, tickling her neck and refreshing her spirits. She was perfectly content to just lean against the railing and watch the diamonds of light that the sun’s rays left on the ocean, licking the blood-red cherry popsicle in her hand and relishing the strong aftertaste on her tongue. She’d seen this very sight countless times, but she would never get tired of the ocean’s beauty.

Hikari would drag her down to the beach at some point. That’s just something her fun-loving friend would do. Maybe they’d even get down to building sandcastles or something inane like that.

Sand would get everywhere. She’d never manage to get it out of her clothes.

If it was Hikari, she’d be willing to do it.

For now, though, she could just relax and avoid dripping melted ice-cream on her clothes.

“Cherry’s boring, don’t you think?” Hikari spoke up, waving her yet unopened popsicle in the air. Hers had forest green packaging, and Tairitsu could barely make out the words “bamboo” as the letters blurred in the air.

“I’m not going to listen to someone who bought bamboo-flavoured ice cream. Why do the vending machines even stock them? It’s a disgusting flavour!”

“Don’t mock bamboo! It’s amazing!” Hikari scowled, ripping open her package at the top and giving the popsicle a good lick. “As you can see from the contents of the dustbin, people clearly agree with me!”

The dustbin Hikari was pointing at was overflowing with empty popsicle packages. All of them were either forest green or pastel pink, matching the crumpled packages in their hands.

Did everyone here only eat cherry and bamboo flavour? How… how odd.

The frown on Tairitsu’s face only deepened as she noticed the bamboo packages were ripped open at the top, while the cherry packages were ripped open at the sides. It was the exact same way Hikari and Tairitsu had opened theirs.

There was a niggling thought at the back of her mind that Tairitsu couldn’t quite pin down. She didn't know if she wanted to.

Wrestling the packages from Tairitsu’s clenched fist, Hikari threw the empty packages into the endless pile in the dustbin. Tairitsu stood motionless, melted ice-cream dripping onto the floor, stuck in a trance until Hikari grabbed her hand.

“Come on! Let’s go down to the beach.”

“Ah, yes, let’s.” Tairitsu let herself be led, telling herself to stop worrying so much. There was nothing wrong. Maybe the vending machine only sold two flavours. Yes, that had to be it. There were only two ways to open popsicle packages anyway. It wasn’t that strange.

Everything was fine.

Hikari kicked off her flip-flops, both flying through the air and one landing nearly a metre from her original position, before running across the sand barefoot, screaming in joy.

Tairitsu slowly sat down on the sand, crossing her legs and watching Hikari with a tired smile as she finished her popsicle. That childish, carefree energy was being radiated in full force now. Hopefully, it would be enough to make her forget about everything else.

There were faint footprints in the sand, going round and round in wild circles, much like Hikari was doing right now. Tairitsu wondered who else had been here.

It didn’t take long for Hikari to lose steam, stumbling over to Tairitsu with a grin on her face. She plopped down next to Tairitsu, panting slightly, a light sheen of sweat shimmering on her forehead. With no warning, Hikari leaned her head on Tairitsu’s shoulder, sighing.

Tairitsu went ramrod-straight, heart skipping a beat at their proximity. The closest she had ever been to Hikari was… when Hikari held her hand. No other part of them had touched for more than a second, and there was always at least a hand’s width between them.

Tairitsu had never been one for physical contact. She wasn’t one to hand out hugs or accept them easily. Being in the embrace of another made her feel vulnerable. Hikari knew that, which was why she limited herself around Tairitsu. She didn’t jump on Tairitsu from behind and wrap her arms around her, or touch her face, or lean on her.

Tairitsu had gotten curious. How would Hikari’s warmth feel, if she could touch it? She had begun to yearn but didn’t know how to tell Hikari such an embarrassing request. She had simply let the desire simmer within her, never to be brought up.

Now… Hikari must be really tired to forget. She was always conscious of Tairitsu’s boundaries.

But it was better than Tairitsu could have ever imagined. Hikari’s ponytails were brushing against her arm, and Hikari’s hair was softer than she’d thought. Hikari’s weight, pressed against her side, was comforting. Tairitsu wouldn’t mind if this continued. Or if it happened more.

An image flashed across her mind, of cradling Hikari in her arms. But that had never happened.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Hikari shifted away, yawning with a wide mouth. “With the extra centimetres you have on me, you’re the perfect height for leaning on. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Why are you so tired? You stayed up all night watching dramas again, didn’t you?” Tairitsu teased. How could she tell Hikari that… she, um… wanted her to do that again?

How did people do this?

“Yeah.”

“I… Um, I don’t mind,” Tairitsu muttered, looking down at her lap. “You can sleep… here. I mean. On me.”

“Oh. Oh, really?” Hikari brightened. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

“It really is fine. If - um, if you want to sleep, then you can… you can use my lap?” Her cheeks were warm by now, and she’d turned into a stuttering mess. It was more comfortable, right? She just wanted Hikari to feel comfortable.

“Like this?” Hikari slowly lowered her head onto Tairitsu’s lap, shifting until she had found the best position - cheek pillowed against Tairitsu’s dress and facing Tairitsu. “You’re sure you’re OK with this? I don’t mind just going to sit on a bench or something.”

“Perfectly fine!” Damn it, even her ears felt warm now.

“Thanks.” Hikari’s voice was already turning softer, eyes fluttering closed. Within seconds, her breathing had evened out and a dreamy smile had appeared on her face.

Her heart was beating so fast that Tairitsu felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She was holding herself absolutely still, terrified that if she moved, Hikari was going to be shaken awake. She looked so peaceful like this. Tairitsu couldn’t bear to disrupt her rest.

Gingerly, Tairitsu reached out a hand, only to pause a centimetre away from Hikari’s hair. She really, really wanted to run her hands through it.

Why not? Hikari was asleep. It’s not like she ever needed to know.

Gently, she pulled Hikari’s hair out of its pigtails and pulled her beret off, pushing it into the crook of her arm before beginning to stroke her hair. Delighted at its lack of knots, she continued her arm’s motions, making sure to keep it slow to avoid startling Hikari.

Tairitsu contemplated pressing a kiss onto those curly ringlets, but decided that was a bit too much.

The rhythmic motion, Hikari’s steady breaths, and the wind against her skin made Tairitsu feel like closing her eyes as well. The day and all its strange oddities had stressed her out and drained her energy.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, and when she opened them again, the sun was barely above the horizon. The sky was no longer blue, but a mixture of orange, pinks and purples. Hikari was still sleeping peacefully in her lap, but the wind had gotten stronger. The waves were larger now, having crept up the shore, and were slapping down against the sand with a much more audible crash.

The two crows, who Tairitsu somehow knew were the same ones from before, were now standing on the sand. They were still watching her, almost as if they were waiting. But waiting for what?

How has this much time passed? She didn’t feel like she’d fallen asleep. She didn’t feel anymore well-rested than before. So how…

Under the sunset, Hikari’s hair looked almost red. Just like the dress in the display case, it gave the illusion of blood. Pulling her hand back, Tairitsu stared down at it.

It was drenched in red as well, every finger dripping blood onto the sand below.

No, no, no! It had to be a stupid illusion. She shook her hand, closing her eyes. It would be gone once she opened them again.

But the blood was still there. Her fingers curled as she tried to comprehend what was going on.

“You stopped.” Hikari’s flat, disappointed voice reached Tairitsu’s ears, and she looked down to find that Hikari had shifted so the back of her head rested in Tairitsu’s lap. Her expression was unreadable, a stark contrast from the usually open and cheery face.

“You’re awake?” Tairitsu tried her best to hide the tremor in her voice. Hikari didn’t need to know.

She didn’t need to know anything. It was safe as long as everything remained under control.

Hikari didn’t answer her question, only pushed herself upright and turned to look at the sunset, not facing Tairitsu. “The sun’s setting. That means the day’s over.”

“You know I have to go, right?” Hikari’s voice echoed in her mind despite her having never said those words aloud. But Tairitsu knew. She knew.

“You don’t need to go just yet! Or even if you do, I’ll see you again tomorrow! Summer break will be over, but we’ll still see each other in school again!” Tairitsu’s voice cracked, her desperation spilling through as she did her very best to grasp at the unravelling threads before her. The wind had picked up even more, howling around her ears as day turned to night. She had to scream to be heard, breath quickening as panic infused her heart.

Hikari still wouldn’t face her.

“What do you even know of school, Tairitsu? You’ve never been.”

Not Tai. Tairitsu.

Don’t say it. Don’t say my name. Don’t tell me!

“What are you talking about? Silly little Hikari. We’ve been friends forever! We attend the same school. Are you only half-awake?”

“...”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because I’m not really here, Tairitsu.”

It was at this moment that Hikari finally turned around. Tairitsu stumbled back at the sight of her, struggling to get her breathing under control at the horror that faced her.

Hikari’s image shimmered like the display case had, warping with every second - the familiar property that every piece of Arcaea had. There were what appeared to be fault lines along her front where her features didn’t quite match up, like a broken mirror. The two sides of her face weren’t aligned. The clothes she was wearing and her hairstyle flickered and changed with every second until they became an indistinguishable kaleidoscope of colour. The only thing that stayed constant was Hikari’s face, misaligned as it was, and her lack of a beret, which Tairitsu had dropped onto the sand.

“Don’t you remember? This world you created that’s so fake, you can’t even convince yourself it’s real? Don’t you remember what you did with your very own hand?” With each word, Hikari’s sneer only deepened, as she took step after step towards Tairitsu, who was frozen in place. Her pink eyes seemed to darken until they resembled red - the red of that one shard, the red staining Hikari’s beret on the sand, the red dripping from her hand endlessly.

Images flashed through her mind, quick as flashes of lightning. The Arcaea she had rained down on Hikari without mercy. Hikari pleading for them to stop and come to a peaceful resolution.

The final shard that had pierced through Hikari’s defences, silencing her for good.

“No…” Tairitsu whispered, covering her face with her hands and screwing her eyes shut as she sunk onto her knees. The red smeared onto her face, going everywhere. It was everywhere. She could never escape it. “It’s not… I… I didn’t want to…”

“How many times have you done this, Tairitsu? Hmm? How many times have you gone through this hopeless cycle, hoping to get a different ending?” Hikari was standing in front of her now, continuing to mock her. She pried Tairitsu’s hands away from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Except it didn’t feel like a kiss to Tairitsu. It felt like sharp glass cutting her forehead as pain radiated from the spot Hikari had touched.

How many times had she done this? How many times had she desperately tried to improve on this world, drawing from the memories she saw in the Arcaea while stripping the misery out of them, in the hopes that it would finally be perfect, that she could finally lose herself in this fabricated world and never have to know the truth? How many different outfits had Hikari gone through, how many popsicles had they gone through, how many times had they ended up at this beach?

Only for it to always end in the same way. Why?

It still wasn’t good enough. That had to be why.

“Don’t you think it’s time to wake up?” Hikari whispered in her ear, cradling her face for just a moment before letting go. Even with the stinging pain, Tairitsu could do nothing but yearn for more. More contact. More. More, more, more.

Tairitsu snapped her eyes open, frantically raising her head and reaching out. “Don’t go -”

But there was no one in front of her. There was no beach, no ocean, no sky. Only a vortex of Arcaea surrounded her, the individual pieces counting into the millions.

There was only silence.

She was alone, all alone, again.

There was nothing more terrifying than being alone in this world with nothing but countless memories to keep you company and show you everything you could never have.

Picking up and cradling the blood-stained beret to her chest, Tairitsu sobbed, mourning the latest vibrant mirage that had slipped out of her hands and faded into a monotone grey. As if responding to her grief, the vortex swirled faster, still completely silent. Only the red shard floating before Tairitsu remained motionless.

Except it wasn’t fully red anymore. It had shattered amid their heated battle. She had done her best to put it together, but the pieces just wouldn’t fit. It was like the individual pieces had lost their connection to each other.

She had no choice but to fill in the gaps with her own memories, with pieces of Arcaea that glittered a deep blue. The shard before her now was a hodgepodge of red and blue, stitched together with willpower alone. But it was the best she could do, now that Hikari was gone.

She hadn’t meant to. At that moment, with grief overwhelming her and wavering at the edge of a precipice, her hand had been forced. By the time she came to her senses, it was already too late.

She couldn’t live without the pillar of light that was Hikari. Hikari had been the only thing leading her in this dark world without hope. That was what she had come to realise in the months of aimless wandering that had arisen after Hikari’s death.

She loved Hikari, right? This was what love was? To think about the other, to need them, their soul, their light, their guidance, like a vampire needed blood?

She would bring Hikari back. In any way she could.

Reaching out to touch the shard, Tairitsu smiled. She’d just have to try again. She’d do it, over and over and over, until it was perfect. Then Hikari would stay, right? Hikari would have nothing to complain about.

Hikari would never know anything was wrong. So would she. She’d forget, let go of all of the pain, and live happily ever after. Like all of the people in the Arcaea Hikari had once held dominion over.

This time, she’d add the chirp of cicadas…

~~~

The Arcaea twisted and flitted to-and-fro over the girl in black, observing in amusement.

~fin~

#fanfiction #arcaea #hikari #tairitsu #hikaritsu #one shot

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