#I also think I get antsy when I’m not plagued by images. if that makes sense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ikonislife · 6 years ago

Text

Same Moon.

-Bobby x Reader

-Angst, fluff, rekindled relationship, ex to lovers, Bobby’s birthday scenario

-Life torn your love apart but when it once more brings you back to where it had all started, will you and him survive the tumultuous ride?

The soft rustling of leaves being shed into the slight chill of an autumn night paves the way for his lonely footstep pattering down the desolated street. Dirty yellow streetlamp frizzing scaring a few bugs looking for a bit of warmth, blind by their desire to sooth an addiction that no doubt drawing close their demise much faster than the natural cycle of life would. What if that’s all human is, just bugs flying in the night, drawn to things in life that bring pleasure but, in the end, spelling out certain pain. Yet there’s no helping this calling, this, this strange addiction to feel loved even if at the end of a cold lonely night, it brings nothing but searing pain for days to come… And certainly, aching memories for years. As Bobby gazes upon the full moon casting its wisps of silver down upon the city that long forgotten about its wondrous healing light, abandoned for temporary high in the explosion of colorful neon lights and the pollution it brings, he finds himself solemn. It’s the same beautiful bright orb that occupies the sky no matter inkiness or clear blue. No matter the existent of the clouds that shy its beauty away from the world that couldn’t much care less for it has not for its detrimental effects on the tides and, well, that’s a topic he could spend all night speaking on but alas, irrelevant. What is within the realm of all things matter dearly to his heart, this is the same moon as it always had been in his short time on Earth. The same one he first took a breath of that disinfectant filled fresh air of the hospital, of his first kiss, his first fuck… the first time he caught the glimmers in your eyes despite the ass hour of the night across the crowded platform of Shibuya station.

It was unknown really, why he suddenly felt the need to abandon a game he nearly bested and instead looked up, staring straight ahead at the platform across the metal rails. Bobby didn’t know why this night he had chosen to care about the storyline of someone else. He had learned to be impervious of the strives in the life streams possessed by the thousands other souls existing at the same time in the same space. He had enough on his own plate, why on Earth would he be bother with someone else’s life. Yet that night, he couldn’t help but be curious, to look up, to take a small peek into what was going on across the track, letting himself immerse in this deep philosophical conscious that to every face he sees, a complicated lifetime is attached. Were they also going through the many debacles of life despite the smile on their lips or are they truly happy? He stared into your eyes and saw what he could only described as an out of body experience. Like a ghost floating alongside your small steps and soft hum (he assumed you like to hum in the slow of life, you just seemed like the kind of girl that could carry a tune), Bobby imagined your mundane life playing out, every decision, everything that consequently lead to you standing right within his view. Like morn to any dream, the clicking of the approaching train conceal you away in the rush of the world existing outside of his little bubble. You were gone. He regretted it, in the five minutes he had stared at you like the creep he was, his feet would’ve carried him over the small pass connection the two side and right by your side. Yet instead he stared, like a dumbass, probably scaring you off but that little pout on your lips was too mesmerizing for his logical side to break the spell. When, how, where would he even find you again in this city of millions, not even accounting for the tourists just like himself. Were you also a tourist? Looking for a little break in your daily routine? The image of your (hair color) locks flowing in the gust of wind intensified by the ghastly sound of wheels grinding against metal track haunted his daydream until he could no longer remained still. So, he wandered. Where? A real plan of action was only something of a myth at this point, but Bobby had to do something. He went back to the infamous sea of the Shibuya crossing… Thousands of people passed by nearly every hour, what better place to start. Then it was the station, dozen times it must’ve been that he just stood there in the same spot you had been, hoping to see the familiar pout. What kind of place would a girl like yourself frequent, clothing store? cafe? park? Bobby tried his best but, in the end, his short vacation ended much too quickly, and the thrashing wave of reality wasn’t one he could stop. Yet life has a strange way of sharing a bit of its kindness on those who persevered for exactly 2 months later on a night much like the fateful one, you were humming a strange tune unfamiliar to his ears not even a few feet away. He thought you looked familiar at first, those soft tousles curiously gave him the worst case of nostalgia despite bearing no resemblance at all to any name he had committed to memory. A hot summer night and the wait for the much needed relieved of a delectable ice cream cone lit a fire in his stomach, antsy and not much patient had. He tapped his foot in place, click his tongue, and must’ve sighed about 4 times before you turned his way, soft whispers filled the night. “Not a waiting kind of dude, are you?” “Normally, yes. Tonight, debatable.” He normally hated small talk. What’s the point of them really? Nonsense to fill the dead air and awkward space, no value to anything being said nor is it important enough to commit to memory. Yet whatever grandeur life had in store for him that night made Bobby answered, he felt compelled to reply then only to feel his tongue go numb from the sight of that little pout. “Well quit being a grump. If you were a kid, wouldn’t you want to carefully pick the best flavor of ice cream to enjoy? Let the boy have his moment.” Gesturing at the boy who couldn’t be more than 6, tiptoeing despite having full view of the giant display of colorful treats, you swung your body with all the oomph you could in the small space of the line. Then you paused… So did he. For a moment, he could hear the wheel churning in your brain, eyebrows raised so high as if your senses recognized him just the way he did you. “AAHHH!” You suddenly exclaimed, drawing ire from the few customers behind Bobby. Panic engulfed his body; did you think he was a creep? “You! weird dude stared at me for like a billion years in Japan. You’re even wearing the same outfit!” “oh. Well, it’s a different white shirt if that makes a different… Probably not…” Bobby sighed in defeat, of course, now he was just a creepy person in your eyes. No way in hell now would you give him a chance. “Of course, I saw. I feared for my life for a bit there.” Or maybe not, your smile, much cuter than the pout he had been hung up on for all this time. “I-I have no excuse. I’m sorry.” “Well, at first I thought I was gonna get kidnap and sold off… but then you looked a bit… how do I say this without making it weird.” You mused, and he thought of a puppy hearing the TV for the first time, head tilt, adorable gaze and all. “I’m sure whatever you got in mind will be fine, this whole situation is already weird.” “You looked sort of… like a kid staring at his favorite meal. Goofy, cute even but at the same time sort of desperate.” He stood there staring in awe at the way your laugher chasing away the stickiness of summer, washing the slick layer of sweat right of his smooth tan skin with its freshness. Yet with each passing second, the pout that had plagued his dream slowly flooding back onto the cherry red lips he so desperately trying to ogle at. “Do you just like to stare, or do I look … odd?” “Y-yes” “Yes? What?” The way your eyes widen in panic was too much for him to handle, and it nearly, nearly made him lost track of the fact that he had just accidentally insulted you. “NO! NO! I mean…Yes, but not like that.” “Huh? Wait so do I look weird or not?” A long-winded sigh ripping away from his chapped lips, bunny teeth mauling at the frayed skin with all the viciousness of frustration rising high. “I’m not very good at this if, if you haven’t figured it out by now.” “I kind of got the hint.” You spoke so gently, almost teasing, which under any other circumstances he’d have flipped. Yet at the moment he was glad it was amusing you in some way that Bobby was such a flustering mess. Just the fact that his total embarrassment of a creep could serve to lighten your mood in turn put him at ease. “You’re, you’re fine. I’m a mess.” Shuffling awkwardly, Bobby was now one person closer to the sweet taste of a refreshing cone of ice cream, but he no longer cared. “I’m Bobby. Can I buy your ice cream to apologize?” Who would think a piece of memory so fresh in his mind was one of nearly 10 years ago… 10 wonderful years of joy and heartbreak, of memories warming to the heart yet simultaneously searing every bit of his skin with hot pain. Time with you was truly a journey. You both grew so much and matured with each tick of the clock, carving out a little niche of your own in this busy world and although not big, it was nice enough to settled into, for him to see a future with you. He had thought this was it, the relationship to end his life as a bachelor, the one that will seal away his parents worry of him living much too far away for their love to reach, to banish the fear of just how lonely he might be despite that bunny smile and his strange endearing chuckle doing their best to convince them otherwise. In the end it was a fairytale that was too good to be true. He got a taste of heaven, a little piece of paradise and even if life wasn’t always peaches and cream, deep down he always knew it would all be alright for as long as you both got each other. Then the news of your promotion came crashing down like that first raindrop amidst a beautiful sunny day. It was small, unexpected of course, and neither of you really truly grasped the impact to follow that tiny raindrop just as anyone would brush off the chance of rain on a sunny clear day. No one was happier for your success than Bobby knowing just how hard you worked, how much hours you grinded out, and the toll all those late nights took. He too knew what a promotion meant but who was he to put a dampen towel on your joy of reaping the reward from a long awaited and well-deserved climb in the vicious ladder of business. So, he rewarded you the only way he knew how, pampering and spoiling you for days on end… Well, four days to be exact because that was about the only amount of time off either of you could get approved. You were very much happy, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins blinded you from truly understanding what this all meant but Bobby didn’t mind. In fact, he really loved how pure you are with your emotions and everything in life but deep down, just the tiniest part of himself wallows in sadness and resentment. How could you not see the suffering he was going through despite the bright smile plastered across his lips. In no way was his happiness insincere, but at the end of it all, “we” and “us” was soon to be just “you” and “I”. In the end, he just wanted a simple life without the deadline of an imminent ending hanging over his heart. Sneakers squeaking to a stop, the charming awn of the past remained unchanged, adorning still the deep purple petals of the freshly bloomed chocolate vine, rich floral scent teasing at his olfactory drawing out a nostalgic smile. The ice cream shop that hosted so many dates and so many apology incentives continues to flourish despite the wilted relationship you both had left behind. For so long Bobby couldn’t bear stepping foot in the place where every table, every corner prick at a wound in his heart… Now, the tick of the clock had reduced the pain down to a bare tickle, as if finger pressing on an old bruise. The old bell ringing out and the cashier whom he does not recognize cheers out a greeting. The sweet scent of cold treats and warmth of waffle cones being freshly made wrapping his rough body in its comforting embrace, the feeling he once felt every night but now only on the rare Sunday when Bobby is much too exhausted to leave the bed; So he let himself curls up in the now unnecessary giant blanket, toasting away under the risen sun. Browsing back and forth, Bobby lets his eyes feast on the colorful array of sweet, noting the many addition of flavors and for reason unknown, he prays your favorite remained. Another good minute before his eyes settle on the gentle pink blush hiding away in the corner, no longer the center of the attention as it once was but same as always. “Could I get a medium half guava, half triple chocolate please.” He smiles at the very patient worker, thankful she let him have his time and very much missing her giddy, demure smile or the fact that she was piling on much more ice cream than Bobby had paid for. Seat chosen and ice cream snugly within his palm, Bobby settles by a corner with the full view of the entire shop (much to the disappointment of the cute worker once she realized the handsome, yet oblivious customer is completely out of her eyesight). Barely a touch of the ice-cold treat on his tongue and he was reminded of how much he despised this flavor, still despises the pink goop you seemed to never gotten enough of. Mixing in with the chocolate? Good God what had you done with your poor taste buds. However, in the midst of the protest his body was so keen to put up against the strange floral taste of the guava and the rich punches of the decadent chocolate, there you were. Hair just as soft and shiny as always but it had been the gorgeous shade of rose gold you sported after losing to a dare. That retro Star Wars tee, a bit faded, a bit stained, and definitely sporting a few holes but nevertheless a favorite of yours. He wouldn’t misplace it anywhere. Your eyes were kinder, smile a bit brighter, the most radiant he had seen in years. You were the you he had met, the girl he had fell so hard for despite not understanding what had gone off in your head to order such a horrendous combo of ice cream flavors. And perhaps has it not for the lingering after taste of your strange choice of ice cream, Bobby would’ve wave back at the figment of you lingering about the doorway, a grin truly from ear to ear as you wave at him at the speed of light. Bobby sighs a soft smile, dazzling the worker who was unnecessarily sweeping the same spot for the 3rd time. He couldn’t believe it had been a near 8 years since the real non-platonic first date. The nervousness, the butterfly, quite honestly just as rambunctious as ever… or it’s the 5th bite of the mess of brown and pink still chilling his hand with its coldness. No, it got to be you, still vivid in the movie playing for one as Bobby soaks in the comfort you brought to his life. He didn’t believe it, the whole deal of one person could alter his life, change his perspective of the world the way countless romantic movies so dramatically play out. Then you waltzed in and flipped his whole world upside down. From the first moment he laid eyes upon you in the busy station to the miraculous reunion just a few feet away from where he seats now, even till the end, you remained the unpredictable force to be reckon with. As with all things in life, the little movie reel of your very first official date was soon over as the chime of the old bell rings out once more forewarning the incoming of new customers. Bobby shakes his head in disbelief still, how could it have been a full 3 years since he had said his goodbye to your adorable face, watched helplessly as your cheeks rosy and nose flared with the strange sound of your sobbing. The disgusting pool of dusty pink ripples as the clear pearl of lost love disturbing its serene surface reminding Bobby of just where he is. Sniffling and a bit flush, he hopes no one had noticed as he gets up to toss his ticket to memory lane, debating whether or not it’s time for another cup of ice cream, one he will enjoy this time. Without even commanding them to, his feet once more carry him toward the colorful display of ice cream, eyes searching through for potential victims for his second round of self-pity. Yet just as he begins voicing his final choice of dark chocolate orange with extra whipped cream, another voice rings out mere seconds before his. Being the gentleman he is, and also not in much of a mood to argue over who was first, Bobby apologizes without sparing a glance, eyes still keeping a close watch on the pan of delicious dark brown ice cream dotted with a few orange zest as if any second now it could grow legs and run off. “Could I please get a medium half guava, half chocolate please!” Cold sweat breaking and heart feeling much like he had just done a marathon, Bobby paralyzes with hope and fear. That voice… That order… Couldn’t be. “Wow, I’ve never had anyone order this combination before but today, twice in only an hour!” The cheery tone of the worker reminds Bobby that he was very much still in the ice cream shop, and this very much still is reality. “What?” Even with all the confusion plaguing the soft voice, he couldn’t misplace it anywhere… It can’t be. Only then did his eyes abandon his prize of classically complementing flavors for a peek at the owner of the sweet voice that was bringing him back to the past. Has it not for the hand bracing against the cold glass surface, Bobby would’ve drop right onto the floor, right there in front of everyone because he has just seen a ghost. You’re definitely real because he had just heard your interaction with the worker just now yet for reason unknown, his mind couldn’t get itself to process the sight beholding. “Bobb? You alright?” “Y-Yea.” He stutters, feeling stupid for staring, and feeling stupid for his jaws that had just dropped onto the floor because by God, you’re stunning. “Hi.” Stupid, so stupid, after all this time, after all the things left unsaid, all he could mutter was a stupid “hi”. Then again, is there really any right thing to say to the subject of his unresolved love, the woman of his dream, the one that got away, the ending neither of you deserved. And so he did what he does best, stares. He stares at you for what seemed like eternity and the whole world simply melts away into a massive shapeless blob of stars and moons and that wondrous feeling of first love. For a moment it was Shibuya, it was the train station, it was being 18 and knowing nothing of love, it was this exact place 10 years ago once more. For a moment it was all the moments you both shared for the 5 wonderful years he got to be with you and every single second thereafter of lost love, every single second condensed into one big explosion of nostalgia, feeling unresolved, and words unspoken. “Did you order my usual?” Your voice seemingly playful after what felt to him like an eternity gone by twice and suddenly, he wonders, did you feel the same? “Yea… wanted to see if I still hate it.” “Well?” “I still hate it.” Laughter, it has always been one of those things that Bobby swears on his life he’d always remember. He might’ve forgotten that favorite dress of yours or the strange way you eat ssam but the way you laugh, how you seemingly looking as though your head had snapped right off your neck bending backward in laughter. Or how bright your eyes shine even though they crescent away when you heave out a hearty laugh. Well… Bobby was sure he remembers it clearly until now. The sound you make, the way your head tilt back, it was all the same yet so distant, so unfamiliar and that scares him. How could something so simple, as simple as laughter instills so much fear into his heart. You were once the person he could simply call up just because without any reason whatsoever or simply because he was bored and needing human interaction, affection. If anyone in this world had been so unfortunate to know what true loneliness is, they would understand just how significant that is as ridiculous as it sounds… The blessing of having someone at the receiving end of “I’m bored, can we do something” even if that only results limbs entangled on the couch staring at the ceiling. Popularity is a double edge blade, that was a fact Bobby never knew until he met you. Never was he unpopular, charming and in possession of a smile that could melt the roughest heart, he was never alone. Yet there was always something missing, in the blur amidst the high of a rager or that second of quietness after a big laugh was shared, an emptiness drowned his heart in inexplicable sadness. A sorrow he was never quite equipped enough to figure out on his own, one he wallowed in after the music faded and goodbye long said. Nights after restless nights, Bobby thought of the fun he had and just how much of a world different it made only a few hours had gone by as he laid all on his lonesome pondering what it was, he’s missing from his life. He ate dinner alone most night, wake up alone… Well, save for a few mornings he managed to land a quick “date”. As he swallowed hard a cold bite of leftover on a random Thursday night, suddenly, his endless contact list seemed meaningless. That all changed the moment your sunshine liked smile entered his life, shooing away the darkest of thought with its pure intensity. Suddenly there was someone on the other end of the line at 3AM when his mind needed a philosophical outlet, or even just an ice cream date. You were always there no matter how trivial his request might be, no question asked and never once expressing grievance. You were a shoulder to cry on, a partner in crime, a protector, and a therapist. You were all and so much more but most of all, you were acceptance. No longer did he has to question himself, to hold back, or to be embarrass because of the opinion of others, with you… He’s truly himself. As the sad reminders of a past no longer obtainable slowly breaking down every bit of his facade, there’s one little piece of information that’s undeniably true, unbearably certain and, had been once more reaffirmed in his bleeding heart. He still loves you desperately. Despite everything that happened, there’s no one else but you. There was no helping the knotting of his stomach and the stuttering that’s unquestionably worse than ever as he stumbles his way through the whole conversation like a bumbling idiot. Although, that in itself isn’t anything strange for he had always been a bumbling idiot whenever you were near, a bumbling idiot mesmerized by your radiant. “Still doing nonsense things I see. When will you learn that guava is not your jam.” “Yea, well maybe your taste in ice cream is just that preposterous. After all this time, I still can’t wrap my head around it. Plus, someone gotta keep buy it or else they’d just get rid of the flavor.” He bites out shyly, only when you had reached for your own cup that he realized the worker had been staring at him for ages. “Oh, sorry, small dark chocolate orange please!” He gave her the brightest smile he could, incentive for wasting so much of her time in the short hour, still completely missing the fact that she would give her life for him to live in the shop. As he stood there rocking back and forth, Bobby glances perhaps not so inconspicuously at the delight spreading through your features as you took the first bite. Sighing contently no doubt in heaven of satisfying the craving of your weird ice cream combination. Although that didn’t stop him from secretly wishing, that contentment was because you were once more by his side. “Are you busy?” You ask casually, as if the both of you were friends, as if you just saw him the week before. “Nope, I’ve been here for like an hour.” He chuckles awkwardly and for a split second, he could see fireworks behind those beautiful eyes as your feature light up in nostalgia. Yet just as fast as it had appeared, the sparks vanish instantly, leaving behind a dark void of reservations. “Ah… Well, I was thinking, if you know, not doing anything…” You stammer on, hand digging a literal pit in your ice cream cup and Bobby thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. Somehow after all these years, after he had given his entire heart to you, you were still nervous around him. “Let’s grab dinner!” He said with utmost excitement before the vibrancy in his voice drones out to something timid, as if fearing crossing the line. “If you’re up for it, of course.” Always your knight in shining armor, Bobby pulls you from the pit you’ve dug for yourself, leaving you nodding like an idiot. Much to the sadness of the worker, you both wave goodbye as he walks you into the night, leaving behind the ghosts of the past and the happiness of the old times he had held on for as long as he could, doing his best to engrains every little detail to memory. Yet with you right beside him, somehow that seems wrong… And truth be told, that hurts. Even though the walk back to your car a mere 30 seconds, Bobby couldn’t help but hate the silent that was shared between your awkward bodies, hoping that you hate it too. Not that either of you were stranger to silent. It was something inevitable, something of a companion for couples who are lucky enough to share as much time together as you two did. It was the comforting silent of Sunday morning spent cuddling under the blanket, eyes closed yet the both of you were fully aware of the warmth of bodies and soothing rhythm of the rain tickling the windows. It was the content silent shared when you dragged your pillow and blanket into his office, made yourself a bed out of his couch with your nose deep in your book because he had to work late. It was the bitter silent of staring at each other in anger, eyes redden and tears scorching your cheeks, but pride get in the way of giving in. Then it was the silent of regret, silent of wanting nothing more but to dive into each other arms as anger passed and all that was left was your hearts aching to be together once more. This silent, this ridiculously awkward silent of uncertainties, of fearing to cross boundaries, it was something he never felt around you and he hates every damn second of it. “Did you drive by any chance?” You ask and suddenly very aware of the scowl worn on his lips as he stares into the night. A twinge of sadness breaks your heart at the realization that you can no longer be the person to sooth his sadness, calm his anger… And he no longer yours. “No, uh, I took a long walk here.” He replies with a smile, but you know deep down, his soul suffering and regret fills your heart. “We can ride together…” You half suggest, half really just want to know where you stand in his heart or if you even still have a place in his heart. “I tried to go to dinner the other night and, did you know that bbq place we went to so much? It’s gone!” You exclaim in disappointment, flapping your arms about just to ease the tension, although you were sure nothing could. “I was so disappointed.” “They moved a couple months back, we can go if you still want it. I know where they move to.” “Please and thank you.” You put on the best smile for him, already handing over your keys and feel the wind of the past blowing over the empty lot. As you take in a big breath of the slightly cold breeze of the night, you recount the thousand times he had taken the driver seat. Bobby had always looked so good with one hand on the wheel and the other on you, holding your hand or gently placing upon your thigh, it didn’t matter. He’d bobbed his head slowly to the beat vibrating the speakers, looking enticingly handsome focusing on the road ahead. Sometimes there’d be laughter, other times just silent as you did your best to impress your musically inclined boyfriend with your new playlist. He always looks amazing. Not much had changed as you hop into the passenger seat, waiting as Bobby changes the driver seat position before the journey began. The first few minutes felt like hours. The silent between you both were deafening, drowns out even the heavy bass of the song thumping out from the radio. You saw it, the way his right hand near out of sheer instinct reaching toward you, svelte fingers inching closer before the weight of reality settles in. There was no denying that part of you had wished he had let his heart finish what it started, to grab your hand and hold it just as he had for so long. There was no denying also, the depth your heart had dropped realizing Bobby has switches to driving with his right hand, the left leaning against the windowsill, no doubt a precaution for any future accidental touches. Painfully, you reach toward the knob on the radio and turn it a bit louder, filling the confine space with pointless noises. Thankfully the rest of the drive, all 15 excruciating minutes of it went on without a hitch. You resorted to staring out the window and drinking in the familiar sights, Bobby focused on the road before him. Part of you were disappointed that the owners of the restaurant wasn’t there, you’d love to see them and how the time had changed. Yet another part of you, strangely delighted that the long-winded explanation of the who broke up and where things left off were avoided. God knows what kind of ugliness this dinner will dredge up between you and Bobby, no need for someone of your happier past to complicate things. By the way Bobby glances back and forth before settling in with a sigh of perhaps relief, you ponder a guess that he feels the same. “Wow, everything is strangely familiar but at the same time, so different.” You gasp out without much thinking, far too enthrall in the way the menu remained exactly the way you had remembered it. “Yea, strange.” Bobby sighs softly, there was no helping the bitterness pulling his lips into a forced smile. The way his voice echoes out so drab against the exhilaration of the busy restaurant full of smoke and clinking of shot glasses, it was like he had taken a knife to your heart. You lean backward to look for the waiter, purposely hiding the frown playing on your lips at the realization of how incredibly on the nose and insensitive your statement had been. “How’ve you been?” Bobby asked absentmindedly as he tosses a few pieces of meat onto the smoking grill. “As well as can be, I guess…” Your answer catches his attention as the man before you abandon his surveillance of the sizzling meat to steal a glance at your dull features. The way his eyes scrutinizing every bit of your face, no doubt thousands of follow-up questions threatening to spill but he keeps silent, returning his attention back to the seared meat. “You?” “Same old, you know.” “Yea.” The word tumbles from your lips like the worst lie ever told. You and him both know “same old” isn’t exactly the phrase to describe the current state of reality, yet neither really brave enough to open that can of worm. The silent to follow that little exchange was far worse than anything you’ve experienced in this world. Awkward was slowly losing meaning as it treads territory of unpleasantness. As you quietly stuff another wrap into your mouth, you wonder if Bobby regrets this, regrets inviting you to dinner because you sure aren’t. As painful as it was to sit silently beside the man your heart desire and soul craving companionship for years now, you love every second of it. Who knows when would be the next time you’ll have the pleasure of being so close, you could make up the soft scent of his cologne even over the overwhelming stench of alcohol and delectable wisps of grilled-meat. In the end, you found out he had since move from that old apartment you both shared for so long. Make sense honestly, for who could bear being in the place where happiness was slowly turning into ashes. Certainly not you. No longer was he the lowly cubicle dweller but now a supervisor with his own fancy office and fancy car. Talk of work seems to get Bobby going as the faintest trace of a genuine smile graces his lips. You miss this. Honestly couldn’t recall the last time you had a real, honest talk with anyone, let alone someone that could understand you so. You let him onto the big project that had brought you home, and even though it’s only for a few months, you want to make the best time of it. And as that sentence left your lips, you could see it, there just at the tip of his tongue the words Bobby was trying so hard to bite back. You knew he thought of it, thought of rekindling the connection that had been left in the dust between you and him… You knew because you thought of it too. How could this place be the best when he’s not in it and as much as you’d like to be the one to raise the topic, it was best left for him to decide. As the scent of smoke and alcohol engrained into every fiber of your clothes and hair slowly dissipate into the air of the cold night, you found yourself sauntering beside his tall stature. A few steps behind simply because you wanted a few seconds to yourself, a few seconds to really look at the man that was once yours even if it was only the back of his head and the span of his broad shoulders. You both had been walking down memory lanes, a careful dance about the best of memories and the people of the past, avoiding the sour topics of the last few months spent together. “My brother just had a baby!” Bobby exclaims, delight graces his features and you’re left completely mesmerize by the handsome smile, even if it wasn’t really because of you. “Oh, that’s so great! Tell him congratulation, and your parents too. They must be over the moon.” You miss them was what you wanted to end that sentence with but decided in the end it’s best not to. “I will. They are, I am too. Though, I’m still scare of dropping the little one.” He gushes, already pulling his phone out to show you the endless pictures of the little tyke. “So handsome.” You sigh gently, adoring the little baby even if it was just a picture. “Of course, he is! Have you seen his uncle?” a teasing smirk blossoms on those beautiful lips as Bobby wiggles his eyebrows, holding a picture of the little one far too zoom in right next to his own face and for a split second, you have your Bobby. Not the solemn, silent Bobby of the drive to the restaurant, not the shocked and speechless Bobby when he first laid eyes on you. For a split second, he was your Bobby. “Oh, is that so? I think his dad got more to do with him being handsome than his uncle, don’t you think?” You jest with a slap to his arm, something that was once so normal considering you and him, best friends turned lovers. Yet his smile drops, an awkward chuckle replaces the bright sunshine previously beaming from his feature. It hurts, it hurts so bad because this was a reality you thought you had dealt with. Yet nothing prepared you for the raw reaction, the raw pain of the quaint touches that was now anything but. Silent befell over the souls wandering the night under the bare bone of greenery in winter. You listen to the leaves crunching under your feet, pulling your jacket higher as the mischievous tickling of a breeze brushes against your hair. Bobby again a few steps ahead of yourself as he stares longingly at the bright moon above, the same one that had always been there through the thick and thin of your relationship. Still here to witness the strangers-again walking through the night. You wonder if it cried for you, and for your relationship. “Did you ever think about the what-ifs?” Bobby was first to succumb to the pain of silent, yet the perhaps the question he had just asked was far more painful than anything else this failed relationship had brought. “Of course, I have.” The answer rushes from your lips at light speed, nearly in disbelief that there was a part of him that thought you didn’t. “How could I not?” your steps halt as you watch on in incredulity, heart racing and a tear already pricking at the corners of your eyes recalling the days to follow and all the times you wanted to abandon it all to be with him. You know exactly where this was heading but at this point, was there any benefit to holding back the words, suppressing the anguish of love lost? “Hm… I think about it often, ‘bout you.” A solid minute of deafening silent went by before he finally speaks up, stopping on his track too before turning back to face you. He got his hands in his pockets, lips pursing under an undecipherable expression though the pain was far from well hidden. “I still think about everything… I mean, it’s been years but. I can’t help it.” The weight heavy on your heart the moment your eyes skimmed over the destination of your business trip finally exploded, etching and cutting into your scarred heart. The words you wanted to say to him, the words you had forced yourself to push aside in an attempt to live a normal life, it came rushing in the moment you read the name of the city that destiny would lead you back to. The person your heart both desires for and knows would only lead it down the path of relapsing into the mere shell of a person the days following the breakup… it had been heavy and now, it aches. “I thought that suppressing you from my memory would help but it was all the same. I was devastated every waking second, in all my dreams and nightmares.” Bobby muses but there was something far beyond the emptiness of his eyes, glossing over with an emotion you couldn’t decipher and that scares you. It rattles all your cages and there was no helping the ugly thoughts coming. “We both were, Bobby. I mean, you say it as if I wasn’t there… As if I wasn’t the other half of the relationship.” Beneath the sorrow, beneath the pain of the part of your heart you thought was dead resurrected by the man you love, anger simmering. His tone, the words he had chosen… how could he… “Were you?” There was nothing, nothing about the man looming before you that could mirror even a fraction of the emotion surging through your body… Well, nearly nothing. The way his jaws clenching so tightly and the kindness formerly tugging those beautiful eyes into crescents of laughter vanishing at a rate that left your heart dizzy… He’s angry. Anger wasn’t something you knew of Bobby. Frustration, maybe. After all, you weren’t a walk in the park to be with so there were times minor disagreements would surface. Yet anger wasn’t an emotion you knew he could possess, not toward you. He had gotten angry at the guy who was far too handsy with you at his high school reunion, and the time when you ran to him in panic at a club because some creep never learned the meaning of “no”… Never with you. “Are you seriously questioning my feeling right now?” You too were teetering on the blade of anger. “Have you forgotten those nights, those weeks before everything ended?” Your voice raising without needing for you to tell it to, the disbelief in your heart overdrive every other function in your shivering body. Had he in all the years of loneliness forgotten just how much you had loved him… still love him. You’ve considered all the options, not taking the job, passing up the promotion, quitting, switching career, all of it. You considered it all and there was always one ending, the enticing thought of a future with Bobby. You were ready to make peace with your decision but in the end, it was Bobby who had held your hand and told you it was okay. You cried and you fought but ultimately, he was your weakness. He ensured that no guilt would plague you as you made the final decision of leaving. “No, I remember it clearly.” That sentence, Bobby had dreamt about it endlessly, of finally confronting you of your lies… How satisfying it would be to finally have his last laugh… So why, why does it hurt so much now that it had finally took its first breath of reality… Why does it kill him so watching the tears streaming down the rosy skin of your cheeks, the way your features had contorted into anguish? “I remember it because I was the one who told you to leave. I was the one who had to packed up our home and all the memories it held.” The way he bites out “our”, love was definitely not the driving force behind it. “Have you gone mad?” Your words nearly as feeble as the breaths you’re heaving. Neither anger or guilt were present on your face but rather complete and utter disbelief “If you knew all that, then how could you question my pain. I ripped half of me, my entire heart out when I left this place.” And for a second it confuses him, the part, the largest part of him that had loved you so dearly begins to doubt the truth he had held on for so long. “No, not at all. I’m completely sane and sober” But hell hath no fury like a betrayed man. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe you’re making me spell out every. Single. Thing.” “Please, because I have no clue what you’re even going on about.” Exasperation and disappointment of being question, of having your heart on trial finally reaching an unprecedented height. Hands carding roughly through your wind-blown locks before harshly wiping away the tears falling uncontrollably. A part of Bobby cowers seeing the red rashes scratched onto the smooth skin of your cheeks from the sleeves of your sweater painfully soaking away your tears. He would never wish harm onto you, even if you were the one doing it, especially if you were the one doing it. Needless to say, the protective part of him wants so badly to pull your hand into his, to cradle your cheeks and press healing kisses onto them but this mess, he started this. Yet the irrational side of him have had enough, far past the emotional limit a person could handle. “I ran into your boyfriend. Yea, the guy you said was nothing more than a co-worker.” He sneers and you could feel your blood runs cold. The disdain, the disgust in the dagger like glare burning your skin left your knees weak in the worst way possible. “Can’t believe I bought it. You know, I was actually glad I ran into him at first. Hearing how happy you were with your new job and already, just few months in, you were already on the fast track to a big promotion.” “Bobby…” You whisper his name, hoping it still hold the magic it once did, but the meek reality is far from the distant vibrant memories. “No, no, no. You don’t get to be all puppy dog eyes and pretend like it never happened.” He scoffs at you and perhaps it hurts more than it should have. “And then, so casually, he told me that you two were together, living together in fact.” “No, Bobby. You don’t understand. It’s all a big misunders-“ “No! Big misunderstanding? Falling in love, moving in together, fucking someone else all in the short months span since our breakup. You call that a misunderstanding? Please, Y/n. Am I that much of a joke to you?” He grunted out the painful sentence and it left you breathless, your lungs could barely keep up with the tears let along the bombs he drops on you. There was no other reaction but silently cry as Bobby continues his tirade. “I gave up my happiness, my entire life so you wouldn’t have to. And the big thank I got was you fucking the guy you said was nothing more than a good friend. You must love me so much that you couldn’t wait to let the next guy you see fuck all the memories of me out of your goddamn brain… All the while I was living like a goddamn zombie. All alone, every waking minute, every second of sleep consumed by the thought of you.” Exasperation begins to wear down on Bobby as he pants heavily, eyes still tearing your body apart with years of anger all pent up in his feeble heart. “Was it all a lie? The last few months of our relationship, it was… Wasn’t it? Because if I were to believe, to hold on to the last shred of the you I fell in love with… You wouldn’t forget me in just a mere few months.” You contemplate the next few words very carefully, taking all the moments, all the deceits leading up to this point into consideration. Life had never been fair, but nothing could contest against the spitefulness of the grand scale of things this very second. It had dealt you a hand that you wish surprise was what you’re feeling, but alas, you’ve always knew this was a possibility the second you spun your web of lies. You understand full well the implication Bobby had just brought to light, but there was nothing left to say. “I don’t think my words matter much to you this second.” You breathe through your sob. “Maybe in a few weeks, a few months it will. Or it might never will be…” the thought of never being anything meaningful to Bobby ever again, that was a pain you thought never will you have to experience. But in the end, this big tumultuous ride of a relationship had already thrown everything else at you and the end is nigh. “So, I won’t stand here and make some big excuses because I think I’ve done enough.” That was all you could let out, all the though your brain could form before it shut down in a muddle mess. Your heart aches far worse than all the pain it had ever been through combine and you didn’t know what to do to soothe it. The small glimpses your vision clear enough to allow you to steal a glance at the man you love but just destroyed, Bobby isn’t doing much better. Body dropping onto the cold stone pavement of the path, he got his head cradling in between his arms and silently, his body shakes with tears and the reality that was settling in far too fast. The thought of you cheating on him wasn’t one he wanted to be acquaintance with or even one he had formulated before the run in with your boyfriend. Yet the happiness of knowing you had moved on diminished fast as the logical side of himself began calculating the time and the disbelief of his heart that you would forgotten about him already in the short time apart. Soon the sound of sniffles and painful sobs was nothing more but distant echo of the night as you both settle into the present. This is it for the wonderful friendship, the by-chance love that had bloomed between two young souls doing their best surviving the rush of life together. You stare at him with all the love you still have coursing through your blood and he, at you as if a distant memory he was ready to let go. Nothing was said but the drumming of your headache burst through, drowning out everything in front of you. “I’ll drive you home.” He whispers impassively, eyes blank as he scans the features of your face. Were you always so sad? Have your eyes always been so sunken with pain and your skin so pale? The Bobby of the past still clinging on, caring yet he knows his time was ending. So, for one last time, he’ll care, just for tonight. “You’re in no condition to drive.” “No, I’m okay.” “Y/n, just please. For once, don’t fight me. I don’t care how things ended up between us, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.” You silently shadow the footstep of the man you no longer have the right to smile at. After tonight, you and he will be nothing more but strangers again, just as you were that fateful night at the train station. After tonight, you’ll have to respect his wishes and pretend as if life hadn’t given you the best years anyone could ever hope for. Once more the same moon as all the days before watches over as your life stream splits into two. You wonder if it too, is sad for the tragic love story.

It has been a month since he last saw you, a month since he accused you of the worst things a man could accuse the woman he loves. He crossed all the lines and all the boundaries that night and it left him an empty shell of the man he once was. After all these years, after all the pain had been dealt with, there was still a bit of hope, the last thread of a beautiful relationship connecting his life to yours. Yet in one moment of delirium, he crumbled all the effort of all the years before because he was bitter. It broke his heart, the way pain washed over your beautiful features as the accusation that had torn so many relationships apart left his lips. He left you so speechless, you stood there and took his abuse silently, clutching your heart. In the moment when sleep evaded him, all he could think about was the horrible things he had said and your nearly lifeless body as he dropped you off that night… He has turned into the monster he promised himself to never be. Somehow all the pain seems so much worse tonight as he lays awake in bed, hours away from his birthday, another birthday alone… Truly alone for he had burned all the bridges that could potentially lead him back to you. Eyes studying the world just beyond his little window as his mind drifts to you, Bobby wonders if your project was going well and if you were leaving soon. He had thought of calling you, of course, but how could he after saying such horrendous things without even granting you the small wish of explaining everything. Did you realize that night that his phone’s background was still a picture of you? That thought warms his heart for a second before the logical side of himself butts in, reminding bobby once more that you probably don’t care, not anymore at least since he had taken all the precious time you’ve both had and ripped it all to unsalvageable shreds. Yet perhaps his heart knows best after all as that ringtone, the one he has always associated with sunshine and happiness, like an omen echoing through the darkness of his room. Bobby didn’t believe it at first, staring at it blankly before the third ring reminding him that you could hang up any second now. He scrambles to his feet, hastily picking up the phone and nearly dropping it. “Hello? Y/n?” Bobby huffs out impatiently, needing to hear your voice even if there was a slight chance you had called to yell at him. “Uhm, are you the boyfriend of the owner of this phone?” A gruff male voice spills from the speaker sending fear to his heart. Jaws tighten and fist clenches tightly, he grunts out a rough yes, nevermind the fact that it was a blatant lie. “Could you come pick up your girlfriend. She been here for hours and I don’t think she should drink anymore.” The voice speaks up hesitantly, growing distant as if the guy was glancing away to check something, someone. “I don’t understand, what happened?” Bobby questions, already grabbing his jacket and keys, on his way even though he has no clue where you were. “Your girlfriend, she came in, had a few too many drinks, and would not stop talking about her amazing boyfriend… Well, you, I guess. Then she cried for a bit and said she was going to call her boyfriend but passed out before the line even start ringing.” The bartender explains, sighing a bit, no doubt done with your antic. “If you don’t mind, please come pick her up. I don’t want to send her home on her own. Le Lune, do you need direction?” “No, I know exactly where. Thank you.” If his heart beats any faster, Bobby suspects that his blood vessels would burst. Worries and dreadfulness engulf his body as he speeds through the empty night, anxious to see you, anxious to know you’re okay. His fingers tap frantically as his car tears through the night toward the place that holds his entire life. As he bursts into the nearly empty bar, a few eyes glare his way vexingly, loud slam of the door had disrupted their night cap and meaningless conversations. Bobby glances about, looking for that familiar figure before a young man wave frantically, calling him over. “Bobby, I assume.” Holding up a phone in front of him, the bartender glances up then back at the screen with a satisfying nod of his head. “Picture checks out. Here you go.” He hands back the phone to Bobby, screen still illuminated, and the background, it sends a pang to his heart. It was him, smiling bright, exuding all the happiness of a man at the height of his love. And for a moment, time stood still. He thinks about you going about in your daily life… His face being the first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. He’s there when you check whether it was time for lunch or time for homecoming. You’ve managed to keep that part of the old life the same despite everything being torn apart and the foundation of your relationship crumbling into nothingness. But now was no time to be sentimental for a much more pressing issue was at hands. “Yes, we spoke on the phone. Where is she?” His voice frantic, panic wrecking his entire being. He thought there was nothing worse than watching you walk away but this, knowing that you were all alone… There is nothing in his short life thus far that scare him so. “I left her on the booth over there, didn’t want her to hurt herself falling over the stool.” Sighing a few thanks, Bobby closes up your tab and left a hefty tip to a very delighted bartender before making his way toward the booth in the far end corner where his sleeping beauty awaits. Leaning back against the red velvet plush of the back rest, your eyes tightly shut and hair a bit dishevel but he swears, you were still so beautiful. Blur streaks of mascara smearing down the soft skin of your cheeks, still so redden and hot, your chest rises and falls gently as a soft snore emanating through the near empty bar. The breath he had been holding ever since the voice of the bartender reached his ears finally dislodge itself from his throat at the sight of you so peacefully snoozing away. Bobby sighs heavily as his eyes scan to your bare shoulders, dress far too thin to shield you from the harshness of the world. “Sweetie, let’s go home.” He whispers softly against your temple where he had just placed a thankful kiss. Though he knew that kiss was crossing every lines and boundaries, there was no helping the natural reaction bursting out of the man who for the past hour had been so uncertain of the safety of his love. He’s thankful, so thankful that insomnia had been so gracefully blessing him with another restless night, thankful for the bartender, and thankful for you. In your most drunken stupor, he was still on your mind and that, just that small thought of you still valuing his pathetic self enough to call him up… Well, it eases his heart and soul in ways unimaginable. “Bobby…” You groan sleepily, despite the stench of alcohol seeping through your every pore, there was no denying how adorable the way you mew his name. Fingers rubbing at your drowsy eyes, you peers through the clumpy curtain of the mascara that was now mostly staining your cheeks than shielding your lashes. Blinking a few times, a smile blooms on your lips at the familiar face and endearing scent, your head instinctively nudges closer into the crook of his neck, stealing all the warmth the man got to offer. “Yea… Sweetheart?” He tests the water, considering holding back the pet name that was only ever meant for you. Yet just as everything else had when you’re around, it was near involuntary. “I love you.” You mewl out a softly amidst a small giggle before diving into his arms. “Can we go home?” Now, Bobby knows full well this was nothing but a drunken sleep talk but that sentence, home, it lights his heart on fire. He was always the one that’d get drunk, coming home laughing and diving into your arms. This was something new, something so different that despite everything else that was happening, deep down a blissfulness spreading through his body. Your head lulling gently, falling right into his chest as your soft snores continue to echo through the darken parking lot. He places you gently into the passenger seat, buckling you up before placing yet another kiss to your forehead. The steady pace his heart had regained finally seeing you safe and sound was once more beating erratically as the moonlight, dirtying by a bit of the neon sign of the bar seemingly adding to the ethereal glow of your beauty. Your lips so soft, cherry red and plump enticing his soul to its own perdition. Just as easily as breathing, he could effortlessly steal a kiss this very moment and you wouldn’t even care nor have any knowledge of it the next day. Yet as much as he wanted that, Bobby knows it means nothing and mess up beyond anything he had done up to this point if you don’t kiss him back, if you don’t want him. So, he brushes a bit of hair tickling your nose out of the way before shutting the door and begins the journey back home. So strange the way you feel so familiar, so right in his arms yet the world revolving around you, the very nature of your relationship is anything but that. No longer was he the companionship to your night out nor could he provide the care he once did on the rare occasion you’d drink past the point of clarity. As he gently places you into the comforting embrace of his bed, a twinge of pain thumps at his heart before electrifying through the entirety of his being. If this was the you and him of the past, Bobby would already be changing you into the comfort of your PJ, knowing just how much you despise bra and all that it stands for, nothing worse than sleeping in a bra, you used to say. Gently, though drunk you has the sleep capability of Snorlax, Bobby still took great care to not disturb your sleep as he delicately worked his way to wipe away your makeup, remembering how pimply you’d get after just one night of forgoing makeup removal. Although he never thought there was anything wrong with it, and that you were just as beautiful as ever even with a few new red friends on our cheeks, he hated seeing you pouting especially over something so trivial. But this is now, and this is the you and him of the present… There’s no “us” and there’s nothing to tie your life streams together other than a few good memories and a ocean of pain. As you roll to your side and snugging closer to the overwhelming scent of home and comfort, a tear burns down his cheek. Bobby watches on helpless because he had crossed far too many lines tonight… And no longer did he have the right. So, he did what little he could, brushing your hair gently away before placing a pillow under your head. He wraps you up in a big cocoon of blankets, situating himself beside your peaceful self just for a second, lingering. He wonders how much different life would be had you stay, had he gone after you… Maybe you’d be his wife, maybe you’d be the mother to his child, children even. Or maybe you both weren’t meant to be together and the tough time would tear you both apart regardless of who stayed and who went. There’s so much what-ifs, so many fantasies he wished you both could’ve see the ending of but alas this is the reality you’ve both chosen and there’s nothing else to do but to sleep in the bed you both have made. Pulling over the cold blanket he had just gotten out of the closet, Bobby settles himself into the couch, sleep was no more of a friend than it had been before the trek through the night toward you. Suddenly, even the distant siren beyond his living room window lost its spark as his eyes traverse toward the tightly shut bedroom door. He could see nothing beyond the white wooden door, silent and stoic in the night, hiding you away from his eyes. Yet his heart knows just beyond the threshold, warmth and comfort await, its owner awaits. Thirty minutes then come the full hour, Bobby was still staring at the cold barrier protecting his princess as his mind roams back to the wonderful days of sharing cover and warm breath tickling soft skin. The echo of each tick of the clock louder than the one before, reminding him once more of the present. His body exhausted yet his mind runs at thousand miles an hour, tracing over every single mistake he had made. The whirling of helicopter replaced by the chirping of the early birds, out and about ready for another day. He has been far too lost in the distant world his mind had made up for you and him when the loud honking of a car somewhere across the apartment complex finally break the trance your present had put Bobby in. He forces himself to turn the other way, blanket pulls over his head before his eyes forced shut hoping to find peace in the short rest till morning come. Surely the consequences of his words will greet him as the day break, so for now, he’ll take whatever sleep he can get. The very next moment consciousness graces his present, Bobby had long forgotten about your drunken confession and that he had very much braved the cold of December to rescue his princess from darkness and strangers’ gazes of the bar. Throwing the blanket that was already very much half pooling on the floor, Bobby mutters a cuss for being so careless, having once again falling asleep on the couch in the cold embrace of the mistress of winter. Drowsy and barely stable, he scratches at an invisible itch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks before stumbling carelessly into the door of his own bedroom. The loud bang of his door swinging wildly into the wall was followed by a sound that sends shiver down his spine, far worse than the frigidity of morning cold air against his bare skin. The softest groan reaches his ears, delicate and cute as if a kitten awakening from her slumber yet instead of adoration, all he could feel was fear. The giant blanket burrito stirring on his bed drowns his being in panic, brain frantically searching for an answer, a clue as to what the hell had happened the night before. One foot than two, Bobby inches closer to the sleepy bundle, muscles flexing, ready to put up a fight to the drowsy bandit. The sight beholding the surprised man was beyond his imagination, far far beyond the fathomable realm of situations his sleepy mind was prepared for. The memories of the night before come flooding back like a broken dam after a long storm, waves thrashing his heart against the rocks of the past. The quaint touches, your love confession, everything rushes back in a matter of second and it left Bobby breathless in all the best way possible. Somehow in between the time he had left you safe and sound in the comfort of his bed and the moment he had clumsily burst through the threshold, you had managed to create a tiny nest for yourself. Bundling around your body is the hoodie he had carelessly tossed onto the ground the night before along, cradling between your cheek and your hand, the sweat-soaked fabric of his t-shirt. It brings peace to his heart knowing that after all this time, you still find comfort in clinging onto him in your drunken state. So many nights he’d toss and turn simply because you too were doing the same, stirring in your sleep, trying your best to maximize the amount of his body you could hoard for your own. He had forgotten how many nights he took for granted, tossing you a bundle of his clothes simply because he could take no longer the exhaustion, pushing you off to your side of the bed. What he’d give to get those nights back now, to cuddle up to your sleepy self and bask in the way you had taken on the scent of his cologne. He stares in awe for a moment, considering waking you yet in light of the alcohol vapor lingering about still, assaulting his nose, Bobby’s sure you’d love nothing more than a few more minutes of snoozing so he left you be. Bobby could count on one hand the amount of time he had braved the kitchen all on his own when you were still a constant in his life. 90% of those times turned out horribly and most definitely ended up with you cleaning up after his mess. Yet that was then, and this is the now of him spending most of his time alone, dining for one. Fast food and eating out sufficed for as long as it could for there’s no replacing the coziness of a homemade meal. So with burnt pots and scarred fingers, Bobby eventually learned to take care of himself even though there’s no comparison to you. A simple soup bubbling away on the stove, he debates with himself on whether or not you still like eggs. God, you must find him insane having a monologue about eggs while burning his fingers checking the sad state of his porridge pot. Deep down, a soft warmth settling in his chest thinking about the simple breakfast coming together… You, sitting beside him at the dining table. And although he knows for certain the conversation had won’t be a pleasant one, there’s no denying the little bit of joy, having a tiny bit of normalcy back into his sad daily life even if it’s just for a one morning. Far too lost amongst the cloud of steam shooing away the frost-bitten skin of his naked torso and the clanking of metal spoon against pan, Bobby misses completely the silent shuffling growing louder. “You really need to invest in a wooden spatula. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to use metal on nonstick surfaces?” Your words so gentle, all the pain of your last meeting evades. In its place nothing but the warmth he was used to, and perhaps a bit of gruff from a hangover. “Oh… Is that why half my pots and pans are useless now? Even butter sticks to it.” Your sudden entrance got the man hopping back out of shock, yet nevertheless, a shy smile already on his lips. “Yea, you should throw those out. Don’t eat the nonstick coating, it could make you sick.” Inching closer, you let the flame of the burners lulling you back to reality with its wonderful warmth, putting color back into your pale cold skin brushed with the cold of early morning. Eyes carefully going over the bubbling pot of hangover soup, sunny side up eggs, and porridge, a smile blooms on your tired lips at his effort. Good to know he was at the least taking care of himself with homemade meals. “that’s quite an impressive spread you got going there.” “I, uh, can’t take credit for the soup. I bought that.” Bobby shares a sheepish smile before rummaging to plate the egg borderlines on overcooked. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat so I just kind of made both rice and porridge… Should be done soon. It’s not much but I figure it’ll be easy on your stomach. You should go wash up.” He beams at you, the brightest you’ve seen since the first time you laid eyes on the man at the ice cream shop just a month ago. “Why are you staring at me like that?” “uhm… I don’t exactly have anything here to, uh, wash up.” “Oh! Right. I’ll be back.” Tearing away from the pot one second from boiling over, Bobby nearly tumble over knocking into the couch before running back with a bundle in his arms. “Here, these are the smallest clothes I could find. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in these than…” He eyes the small dress on your body, disheveled and stained from lord knows what yet the simple act of nodding toward your less than pristine choice of clothing soon turns into a walk down memory lane. He traces over every little mole on your skin, the soft curves of your body, down to your delicate fingers. He misses every single detail about you, your laugh, the little dance in the confinement of the passenger seat, your body. Tears brim his eyes as recent past come rushing in, giving him a dose of the lonely reality. “Uhm, here.” “Thank you.” You grab hastily the bundle thrusted into your embrace, not missing the reddening eyes and the silent sniffle. You say nothing more, knowing it’d only add to the sad reality that was you and him, making your way back to the bedroom you thought was only a dream. Any other day and the steaming water washing away the shame of the night before would be something divine, heaven sent. It would mean relief that you had survived another night spent pathetically living precariously through the illusion of the happier past that the bitterness of hard liquor had granted you access to. Yet today, it’s painful, burning every bit of your skin with the reality that you had very much damage the last bit of good remained of the girl he once loved, if there was any good left after the lies you’ve told. Mirror clouded with the lingering steam and vapor of your silent tears, you pull on the clothes barely fitting onto your body, twist and turn to view the outfit hanging loosely. The reflection of yourself in the mirror, blurred, barely visible through the cloud of your regrets. Even through the billows of water vapors and the surprisingly sparkling scent of neroli mingling with bergamot of his body wash, you couldn’t help but let your nose trail on the ghost of Bobby’s scent. You know it was crazy to even try for he had handed you clothes shrouded with the fresh scent of laundry detergent yet there was no helping your hands from bunching up the fabric of the ill-fitted shirt, bringing it close to your nose imagining it was just shed off of his body. Your mind went back to the late nights of digging your face as far into his body as you could, taking in the comforting warmth and soft scent of faint cologne and Bobby. Sorrow overtaking your senses because soon enough, you’d have to leave the safety of this hideout. So just for a few minutes, you let your heart has it moment. Table was set by the time you finished freshen up, Bobby graciously waiting by the table, scrolling through his phone to pass the time. Though the clothes might be small for him, the t-shirt he had given you near hitting knee length and the pair of short barely holding on. The smile he offers was far short of the one you were used to but nevertheless, better than the scowl and pain etching so deep on his features the night everything ended. The meal begins in complete silent despite the friendly small talk and although it was nothing surprising, there’s still a bit of pain lingering for tableside conversation wasn’t something scarce between you two. “I’m really sorry, for bothering you like this.” You say finally, noting the small glances he steals, unable to any longer swallow another bite with the air thicker than tar suffocating all your senses. “I- there’s not enough words to say sorry and thank you for going out of your way to pick me up. I know this wasn’t what you imagined starting your weekend with.” He was the drop of water to quench your thirst, yet you couldn’t imagine the same could be said about you, not after everything that happened. “Y/n, there’s no bother. This is the least I could do after all those years you took care of me.” Was this how it will be? Polite banter and careful dances about the rich history your souls shared for so long? Bobby watches carefully as your dainty fingers pushing your spoon about, rare bites taken he surmises could barely even be qualified as a bite but rather formality to reward his effort. So many question bubbling close, so close to the surface, he could feel them knotting in his throat. Why were you out so late, who were you drinking with, what was your intention behind calling him… He knew your actions were merely alcohol induced yet isn’t it also true that drunkenness only amplifies true intention? “Is something bothering you? Is the food that horrible?” He had to do it, unable to bear the desolation paints so clearly across your features. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m just…” You consider for a second to lie, blame it on the uneasiness of your stomach souring the morning after… But lie isn’t what either of you need, it’s not what Bobby deserve. “I’m so sorry. I really can’t do this.” “Do what?” Panic slowly engulfs his body watching the color leaving your skin, anguish slowly replacing the small smile you had watching him fumbling over the hot soup. “You’re scaring me, Y/n…” “I tried, I really tried to pretend as if this is normal… But I just, I can’t get over the fact that I intruded your life after you had so explicitly expressed your desire to never meet again. This must be so uncomfortable for you. And I, there isn’t enough sorry I can give for last night, for all the nights before.” Your heart vomits out the guilt pent up and pushed away for a moment of joy pretending as if watching Bobby struggling over breakfast was something normal, just another typical morning in your household. You wanted so badly to hang on to this last piece of happiness with him, to have one last breakfast as a “couple” but alas, guilt was eating you alive even before you realize it was there. “I should go.” No sooner than the last syllable of the sentence left your lips, his hand was already on yours, cradling, squeezing so tightly you could feel the weight on your heart becoming undone. “Don’t… Please. I know I’m despicable, and I’ve accused you of the most horrendous thing… And I’m sorry for that.” His eyes calm, like the grey sky just before a big storm breaking but just beneath the roughness of his voice, panic. You could feel that guilt too was wrecking him apart and it kills you. You’d rather him hate you, never want to again see your face but guilt... Guilt is what keep people from moving on, and that’s not what you want for Bobby. “What you did after we parted, it was none of my business. I know too that heartbreak is much easier dealt with if you have someone to lean on. I crossed far beyond all the lines and I, I’m just so sorry.” “No, your anger was well deserved. I told you lies, that part was true. And I thought for the longest that if you hate me, it’ll be easier for you to move on and be happy. If I can’t provide you with the love and happiness you deserve, then at least someone else can.” How far will you be able to carry your truthfulness, only time can tell. But for now, you’ll do your best to close finally end this chapter of your life and give it the closure it deserved, one that should’ve been written years ago. “That was the sole reason behind everything I’ve done.” “I know you’re not so cruel, and I know in my heart that you wouldn’t forget about me so soon after, just as well as I know you’d never cheat on me… So please, Y/n, end my misery and tell me the truth. I know that night I let anger taken over, but your words matter to me more than you could ever know.” He begs, hands clutching onto yours so tightly, the last line of hope for the drowning man. “When I said it was a misunderstanding, that part was true. I would never cheat on you and rest assure the time we spent together, no matter how shitty, my heart only ever had you in it.” To finally clear up the unspoken thoughts of that night, you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. Bobby too, seems to have felt the same effect as his head hang low, long sigh release the breath he had been holding. “And the matter of whom my heart had belonged to following our breakup, it was you… Still to this day, only you. It was always you and I’m sorry if I’ve made you thought otherwise, for the pain I’ve caused.” “Why? Why would you- How, what about all the things your boyfriend had said?” “There was, still is no one else. It has always been you and I’ve only lied because I thought it’d protect you. Whatever he had told you, it was done under my instruction.” Tears were once more streaming down your cheeks, sullying the bowl of porridge he had worked so hard on. Bobby falls back into his chair, body limp, no strength for anything else for his brain had taken it all to process the revelation falling from your lips. For reason unknown, you thought it now is the best time for another bite of food only to find it choking with sadness, bitter the entire way down. “Why would you do that? Why would you let me believe in a lie that made me saw you in such a disgusting light? Y/n?” He repeated your name like a mantra, frustration, love, anger, nostalgia, it all mixed up in an undecipherable wave drowning Bobby in guilt. The things he said, oh the things he had accused you of, how could he ever repent for his sins. “I came to visit, a month after we ended things… I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t bear not seeing you. It nearly drove me insane not being able to see you, to speak to you daily.” Your head now too hanging low, recalling the days when wounds were fresh and pain so excruciating, you’ve gone numb. You recall too the excitement of finally seeing that handsome smile and feel the familiarity of happiness. “I was stopping by our coffee shop, figured, if I was to show up and ruin your day, might as well bring some caffeine.” You chuckle bitterly at the past, thinking of how shock he would’ve looked if you just show up at his work with coffees in hand just as you used to. “That was when I realized, we needed to move on if we even hope to survive.” “What are you talking about?” Confusion plagues his features and it was rightfully so. This insane misunderstanding had been solely on you. “I saw you with that girl, seemed like a date. I was happy, honestly, seeing you smiling, going out, having fun. So, I left. I thought that was it, you were moving on and so should I. You could imagine how hurt I was, hearing from our friends that you were still so hung up on what happened to us that you were barely living.” Your eyes trail along the sharp lines of his jaws to the soft pout he has on his lips. Bobby got his gaze on you, watching intently with bated breaths and once more his hands found their way to yours. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/n. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” The soft sniffles have grown, echoing, spreading through the dead air of the living room that was warming up by the soft sunlight peeking through the living room’s windows. So opposite of the harsh tone and chiding words of the night just mere month ago, his words ring with the dejection of a desperate man. A man that wants so badly for you to realize that the pain of breakup was no one’s fault. It was a part of life and however unpleasant it might be, it was simply inevitable. After all, there are always only two outcomes when hearts begin to beat as one… And neither of you were favored by the grand scale of life. When silent was what met his protest, Bobby finally gazes upon your frail face, glossy with tears and guilt. He wrapped your cheeks in the protective hold of his hands, thumbs gently ridding of the tear hiding away the rosy of your cheeks. And as if it was his last lifeline out of the tumultuous sea of heartbreak, he places the most delicate kiss upon your forehead. Bobby wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do but it was what his heart told him to. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. I just needed to deal with pain at my own speed.” “I was hanging on to the image of you, so happy even if it was with someone else and somehow it got me through. Day by day, some days hurt more than others but knowing you were happy, it made my heart content. When I found out you’ve isolated yourself from the rest of the world, I was eaten alive with guilt. Guilt that this all happened because I left… Guilt because I went on living while you were suffering… So, when my friend texted me that he ran into you, I decided to take things into my own hand.” Embolden by the leap he had just taken, you rest your forehead against his, wrapping your own hand around his wrists, fearful still that this is all just another reunion dream your tired mind had conjured up. But that thought was soon banish as Bobby pulls your hands up to his lips and the wings of hundred small kisses flutter against your soft skin, reminding you that he was very much right before you. There are few moments in life that can capture the fleeting nature of life and aside from the moment when you had bid goodbye to your entire life, the very second that text had flashed across your screen was the realest moment in your short days on this Earth. It was so simple, “Hey, I ran into Bobby. He asked about you!”. How could a few sentences, so straightforward, no underlying messages could mess with your heart so much that you felt all the progress you’ve made, all those day coping, surviving this new found loneliness reverting back to the beginning. You contemplated, telling him you were fine, telling him you were miserable, beg for him to take you back… In the end, you asked your dear friend a favor you knew you could never pay back for. A fabricated life in place of the pathetic one you’ve been living. You painted a home with two dogs, a loving business partner, best friend, and lover all in one. Mornings were filled with laughter as you both fought over coffee even though there was more than enough to go around. Nights echoed with the scent of sweat and lingering moans of pleasure as the delectable cloud of a homemade meal wasp around the kitchen, awaiting to be dine. You thought of the future that never was with Bobby as you begged your dear friend to lie for you. “God…” Hands still snuggling yours, Bobby let the weight of his head resting against your knuckles as he mutters soft cusses. He was so wrong, he made you out to be the villain, yet the truth was so far from all the fuck up scenarios he had conjured up in his mind. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I started this, none of this was your fault. At the time, I really thought it was the best way to get you to move on... I didn’t think about the consequences, that it would backfire. And I don’t think I can ever make up for it.” A heavy sigh left your lips and your heart wishes so desperately for Bobby to place another kiss upon your skin… Perhaps this time he’d settle for one on your quivering, chapped lips. “How about just start being honest with me? Hmm?” He leans in close, dragging your chair effortlessly right beside his. For the first time since the conversation start, you let yourself focus on the starlight sparkling in his eyes. You were so scare, deadly afraid that if you gaze into his eyes, all you could see was emptiness. Oh, how wrong you were because there’s so much light and warmth emanating from them, so beautiful and tender. “I don’t even know if I should be-“ “No, I know what you’re trying to say. Did you really think I’m letting you go a second time? I’ve got you here, even after the spite I’ve thrown at you, you’re still here with me. You must be insane if you think you’re walking away one more time.” Your self-pity drowns out with all the love his heart could give. Hands once more gently encasing your cheek as he shushes away the lingering tears. “There’s no other place you should be but here. Stay with me.” Your heart nearly explodes in light of the words you desperately hope to hear for the longest. You’ve always wonder what would have happened if you had just stay, screw career, screw the world. What would’ve happened if you had let your heart taken control of your body and soul, letting love win? Like the most wonderful Christmas miracle, life, Bobby had offered you a second chance at the life you wish you have, only this time you both have matured and learned so much from heartache. It wasn’t an easy road here, but it felt so much like the first time. You dive into his arms that was more than ready to welcome you back for they had gone on far too long without feeling the your curves under them. Tears was once more falling, but this time Bobby let them fall because he knows it was out of sheer bliss and happiness… Because he too is crying along with you. Neither of you dare move an inch even as awkward and aching as the position of your intertwining bodies currently in. Breakfast long forgotten and hangover was just something so an hour ago, you could only feel the warmth and solace. “I still love you so much.” It feels as though an eternity had passed since you crawled awkwardly into his arms. You shyly confess, ear pressing up against his chest as the sound of his heart vigorously beating calms yours. “I know, you told me last night.” “I did?” A smirk was already blooming on his lips when you found the strength to pull away from his hug. “I’ll be honest, if you hadn’t sleepily professed your love to me… I don’t know if I would’ve offered breakfast. Not because I don’t want you to stay but rather… After that night, I’m just so scare you’d never want to see me again and crossing more boundary was the last thing I ever want.” Gently brushing away a few locks of hair that was obstruction his view of you, Bobby confesses. “But now, I wouldn’t have this morning any other way, with anyone else. You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this.” “Thank you, for waiting.” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, taking in the soft sighs of satisfaction and the gentle sweet words being hum by your loving man. “Why were you out so late last night. I was so scare when I pick up the phone and it wasn’t you on the other end.” Pressing a kiss onto your cheek, Bobby once more has his hand grazing the skin of your face, taking in the way you glow softly under the morning sunlight. He was thanking God that you’re here, in his arm, letting the hotness of your skin under his fingertips shooing away the fear of the night before. “I was so worry, I’m sure I’ve broken every traffic law there is.” “It’s always a bit hard for me around time of our anniversary and, well, your birthday.” You lament the pain the comes twice a year, never fail like an ominous alarm reminding you of your loneliness. “I’ve learned that alcohol numbs the pain…” Your revelation seems to only worsen the concern plaguing the handsome man. “At the very least, it prevented my soul from wandering down the path of self-destruction, wallowing in guilt and the thought of who were celebrating with…” There was no missing the way his eyes dance about as if relearning all the curves of your features and committing to memories all the new freckles and mole you’ve acquired since. Bobby was never shy about eye contact, so it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to really just focus on the way your lashes flutter, still heavy with a bit of tear and sorrow recalling the bitter past. Though soon enough, the reality of just how close you were to him, so close that he could feel your breath hot against his skin, it sinks in fast and he couldn’t stop his eyes from falling onto your lips. He tries, really hard but in the end, no matter which route he took, in the end, his gaze returns to your lips. You too, couldn’t deny the calling for that long-awaited kiss to happen and finally let your heart takes control. You wish you could see his expression as your eyes flutter close, to witness the soft gasp leaving his soul but alas, the soft touches of his lips against yours exceed far beyond anything else. He leans down finally, lips so soft and gentle against the roughness of your own. The first few seconds, neither of you could bear parting way so you both still, taking in the saltiness of leftover tears and the familiar touch that had evaded your lives for so long. Fireworks blossom within your soul, louder and more vibrant with each passing second relishing in the taste of him. But soon that first spark was barely enough to sustain the insatiate hearts desperately trying to sync. Fingers trailing up against the tone muscle of his torso before you let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as his arms fasten around your waist. You’ve waited, wanted this for so long that time no longer a factor in this kiss you’re sharing, deepening so much further as he tilts his head to fully take you in. Pulling away slightly, you nibble on his lower lips lightly before letting the softness of your tongue to sooth the gentle pain. You both kiss for as long as your lungs would allow before parting way, heavy pants, resting in each other arms. “Happy birthday,” You whisper into the small kiss you’ve just placed, unwilling to be apart for so long. “I love you.” “I love you. You’re the best present I could ever hope for.” This was in no way the perfect reunion and quite frankly, there’s still so much more that need to be said, feelings long stored away that need to be dealt with. You’ve spent the first part of your relationship trying to be perfect, to be the couple goal, and to be envy by all your friends. But you know now, no couple is perfect, no love can be without its trials and tribulation. In the end, all you could hope for is to have done the love you have for each other the justice it deserves. You both know in your hearts that the safety and happiness of the other person are what worth the most and that’s all that matter. You have him, and he has you. Life have had its way for far too long and it was time you both, hand in hand, take it by the neck and make it your own. Surely there will be days when life once more gets rough but this time, this time you know with all the certainty in the world that you and he will survive anything. This time, no matter what life throws your way, you’re beyond prepared for all its trickery… Because this time, you have under your belt the experience of a life without each other to remind you both of how fragile this love is. The whisper of a promise to never again leave each other side mingles in the soft giggle of excitement and anticipation. So, as you both let yourselves get lost in the second kiss of your second chance, you hope that the same moon who had for so long watched over your relationship will be there to witness the beginning of your new life with him. You wonder if it is too, proud of the progress you both have made.

#ikon #ikon scenarios #ikon scenario #ikon imagines #ikon fanfic #ikon jiwon #kim jiwon #jiwon #jiwon scenarios #jiwon imagines #jiwon fanfic #ikon bobby #bobby #bobby scenarios #bobby imagines #ikonic

115 notes · View notes

camille-marshall-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Challenge #7

Alternately Titled: Getting Cane-did

a/n: Nihao, kumusta, hello~! I know that I said that I’ll be posting three fics for the weekend but I think I’ll be posting four. As you all probably know- I am the worst when it comes to wrapping everything up in just 4500 words- IT’S HARD OKAY(?) lol. So this fic will have a follow up fic posted soon (maybe tomorrow..? or tonight depends if I can finish my supposed school work tonight) Anyway, yeah this fic is really about Marshall and her internal thoughts during the caning. I loved writing this fic because of the actual internal conflict and suffering that Marshall faces and well... more of that stuff here. So yeah lol. I hope you enjoy Marshall’s lowkey suffering. Also s/o to Grace and Claire for working on such bomb ass Nate and Mal fics for the caning because HOLY SHIT the drama and the dialogues were hella great. 11/10 love the drama. Okay yeah, enjoy! Do I even need to warn you guys about cursing anymore? (3570 words)

It’s been getting harder to sleep these past few nights.

My dreams were ridden with the same situation, the sound of the alarm, the chaos of the palace, the same faces. The same things that wake me up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, keeping me up for the rest of the night.

It’s been a few days since the rebel attack, but I haven’t managed to have a good night’s sleep ever since. Tonight, I wake up from the same dream- this time clutching my temple. I had dreamt that I was the one shot, not Kramer. I shake my head, reminding myself that it was only just a dream.

Going back to sleep is not an option, knowing that I’ll end up dreaming the same things. I hated how many times I’ve relived the situation. I wish it didn’t affect me as much as it did right now, but these were my ghosts. I had to live with them.

I spend the next few hours sitting on my balcony, clutching a book in my hands and waiting to see the sun rise. The lack of sleep has been taking its toll on me, the heaviness of my bones was a clear sign, the dull ache in the back of my head, the tiredness that plagued me.

Maybe it wasn’t only the attack that was plaguing my thoughts right now. I mean, Venus had been eliminated a few days ago, and my heart had hurt so much as I hugged her before she left. I lost my best friend, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t having some separation anxiety from the beauty guru. A part of me felt like I needed her to be around me, she made me feel more confident in myself when she was around. Now, it I’ve never felt anymore lonely.

My maids comes bursting into my room a few minutes after the light starts to break over the horizon. They’re in a frenzy as they pull me back into my room.

Angelica starts giving instructions to Peggy and Eliza as they start scrambling around the room, and I blink in confusion at the frenzied pace of my maids.

“What’s happening?” I ask Angelica as she makes me take a seat at my vanity.

“They found a rebel, Miss.” Peggy informs me, brushing my bed hair.

“What?!” I yell, looking at Peggy. “Wait, then why are you all here? What’s with this?”

“There’s going to be a caning, a public caning.” Angelica says deadpan- wiping my face with a moist towelette. “We don’t have much time. We have to get ready you ready.”

A caning? Perhaps that was a better punishment than an execution… but still, a public caning?

I let my maids drag me to my closet, fussing over which of my dresses was appropriate for an event like that. How much black I had in my closet was ridiculous. My maids have always joked that I always looked like I was prepared for someone’s funeral… well, it’s not my fault that I preferred the color. I’d stop wearing the color when they invent a darker color. My maids continue doing their job, I allow them to prepare to dress me and put some minimal make up and soon enough I look like I was dressed like I was headed for a funeral.

My feet slip into my slides, my bandaged ankle still lightly throbbing every time I walked. Eliza gives my choice of foot wear a disapproving look, but there’s nothing we could do about it.

The news of the caning did bring a somber mood in everyone. A knock on my door signals that my escort had arrived, a guard assigned to assist me. Dr. Granger said that I needed someone to help me walk around, just someone for me to help me with tricky things like going down the stairs and whatnot, but I’m pretty sure that the guard served a second purpose though, to prevent me from running away again.

To my surprise, it’s Officer Gutierrez waiting by my door this morning and he offers me his arm before we start walking.

Gutierrez was Kramer’s classmate, a fellow Fort Lauper graduate too- I couldn’t imagine what went through his head when news of Kramer’s death had reached him.

Gutierrez was the first one to speak among us.

“We’re headed to the side of the palace, the part that’s closer to the east entrance.” he informs me as he starts assisting me on the stairs- holding my hand as I took one step at a time.

“The rebel… it was an inside job, wasn’t it?” I ask, recalling what I had heard from the report I had heard the day of the attack.

“It was… but,” Gutierrez shifts his eyes away, a look of doubt in them.

I raise an eyebrow as I take one last step down the staircase, “but what?”

Gutierrez shakes his head, something still troubling him. “Nothing.”

That’s suspicious, I shake my head- deciding not to push through with my questions. The two of us walk the rest of the way in silence, though I could tell that Gutierrez was obviously uncomfortable. What was so wrong about catching a rebel? Wasn’t that a win for us? A chance to give justice to those who have died during the attack? Gutierrez ushers me outside and a bolt of anxiety shoots through me as I hear the sounds of a crowd gathering behind the palace gates, as well as the sight of a good number of people allowed to enter through the gates. Gutierrez brings me to a certain area of the crowd, tells me that this was where the Selected are supposed to watch. He gives one last glance to the raised stage before bowing and leaving me standing there, unsure of what all his fuss was about.

Rebellion was wrong. The rebel was getting what he deserved. A caning sent a message to everyone, punishment. Hammurabi’s law. Eye for an eye.

The government, the military, the country’s national defense were stronger than anything, anyone who dared to threaten it. That was the message.

The sound of the crowd dulls out as a man dressed like an executioner steps up to the stage, and I could only hear his voice ring throughout the space.

“Charles Flynn!” his voice echoes menacingly, “a member of the palace kitchen staff was found attempting to bring down the monarchy with his fellow rebels.”

I nod, hanging on every word.

Charles Flynn.

That’s the name of the bastard who unleashed hell on the palace. I keep my eyes trained on the stage, feeling a sense of resentment against him already. Traitor.

“Mr. Flynn has broken his loyalty to the country and the monarchy. His disgusting actions have shown his real intentions. He is found guilty of treason against Illéa!”

The crowd seems to roar too, anger in their cries from outside the gates. The enmity of everyone clearly creating at atmosphere that was so full of hatred you could choke on it. My eyes shift to the other raised platform, where the Schreaves watched- clad in all black. The queen was beside King Spencer and I gaze upon the king’s steely expression, an unforgiving expression that reminded me so much of Nate when he had gotten angry the other night. I then see Nate standing there, looking obviously uncomfortable, eyes moving everywhere- wearing a more unsure version of King Spencer’s expression.

I wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and squeeze his hand, whisper to him how he needed to stop looking that way, tell him that things like this needed to be done- that this was the ugly side of his job. Everyone’s job had an ugly side. A future king like Nate needed to be reminded that, but most of all- I think he needed to be assured that things were necessary to be the leader I knew Nate could be.

Suddenly, the crowd’s yells grow louder as I see a figure hobbling to the stage where the masked announcer stands- and I feel my heart drop.

That was Charles Flynn?

The rebel looked like he couldn’t weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, he was nothing but a teenager, a child. How could he be a rebel?

I narrow my eyes on the kid, searching his face for something, anything that reminded me of the rebel I had faced off. There was nothing common between them, save for the blood on his shirt. Charles Flynn’s face was not the face of a rebel, heck- that kid looked like he’d apologize for burning my morning toast. The crier continued his speech, and I was suddenly understanding the look of concern Nate had on his face, why Officer Gutierrez seemed so antsy discussing about the rebel.

The mental image of a child like Charles Flynn being brutalized with canes was not a pretty picture to imagine.

I ball my hands into fists, though. I remind myself that Charles Flynn was a rebel- if he was found guilty by the king. If the king, my commander-in-chief, had found him guilty, then I, a soldier, should accept his orders.

“This is a crime punishable by death! But in his mercy, King Spencer had decided to spare this traitor’s life. Long Live King Spencer!”

The child was a traitor, I remind myself. I should not hold any sympathy for a rebel. Charles Flynn had made Kramer’s death possible. He should find himself lucky that the king had not ordered an execution, he should find himself lucky that his fate was not the same as his fellow rebels. Long Live King Spencer. I thought bitterfully.

Still, my heart was beating wildly as I watched the rebel’s hands strapped to some device- palms to the sky. This boy looked only about 15.. 16 years old? Was that the face of some kind of spy? My instincts were yelling at me to stop directing such harsh thoughts to the child.

“Charles Flynn, you are hereby stripped of your caste. You are the lowest of the low. You are an Eight and sentenced to prison for further questioning!” No wonder they’re keeping him alive.

I keep my eyes on Charles Flynn’s face, noticing his eyes trained to the direction of the stage... where the Schreaves stood. Who was he looking at?

“And to inflict upon you the shame and pain you have brought upon this proud country, you will be publicly caned with fifteen strikes. May your many scars remind you of your many sins!” The growing rage of the crowd was starting to unsettle me.

I stop myself again, stopped myself from trying to be so sympathetic to the rebel. Sympathy will get us no where with this rebel situation, sympathy did not stop people getting killed in rebel attacks.

But sympathy was what I feel when I see the canes being drawn from their buckets of water. I felt Charles Flynn’s pain as I hear his anguished cries when the canes had struck down on his hands for the first blow. I ball my fists to my sides even harder, feeling the slight pain from my nails against my palms as I clutched my fist. This was necessary, This was the verdict of King Spencer, these were his orders. I could not disagree with the king, I had to respect his decisions.

It was my duty as a soldier.

Nothing tore me apart than that thought. I look at the people bringing the canes down on the kid. My thoughts drift over to the masked men striking Charles Flynn’s hands.

They were doing their duty.

Then it hits me, makes me wonder if I could do the same thing as them if I were given orders to. I have killed a rebel, but more out of self-defense than what was ordered to me. If I had been ordered to cane someone, would I do it?

The answer is clear in my head.

I would not.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting to this public torture. I couldn’t agree with this, Spencer be god fucking damned. No one deserved to be treated this way.

Rebels, soldiers, guards, queens, kings.

No one in this world deserved punishment and pain like this, I realize. Then I notice a sudden movement from the stage with the Schreaves, a blur of black jumping the railings and shrieking out Charles Flynn’s name. The royals themselves were yelling things I couldn’t quite make out thanks to the deafening crowd. All I could hear was Queen Aubrey, the usually serene and calm Queen Aubrey, screaming Princes Mallory’s name. Nate was yelling something too. King Spencer seems to have broken his stoic mask, pushing a guard to chase after the figure running to Charles Flynn.

What in Elton John’s good name was happening?

I watch Princess Mal run to the stage, screaming “CHARLIE!” and the pieces seem to click together. Charles Flynn was looking at Mal a while ago.

Oh… Oh.. Well, holy shit- this was a revelation.

Just about as Mal was about to reach the stage, a guard slams her to the ground- stopping her from reaching him. The morning sunlight allowed everyone close enough to see the tears streaming down the princess’ face. She was screaming profanities I thought never existed in her vocabulary at the guard as he grabbed her. Her cries caught Charles Flynn’s attention though, sharing a look with the princess before another set of blows were dealt on his bleeding palms. Mal and Charles Flynn seemed to have something shared between them, I could tell that. There was something there, perhaps a mutual care for each other. The things you do for the people you care about.

My eyes widen when another figure jumps the railings- my heart almost fucking stops… this time it was Nate.

I watch the crown prince run to the stage and jump on it, going to his sister.

This time, it was my turn to yell his name.

“NATE!” I felt my breath catch in my throat seeing Nate on the stage, seeing him so close to those men holding those canes. Nate get off that stage. I don’t know what those men would do to him for his obvious act of protesting against this.

I wanted to scream his name, push past the crowd and fucking tackle Nate down from that stage. He needed to be away from that danger, someone needed to get him off that stage.

Fear, I felt fear overcome me as he stood on that stage. What the hell was this boy doing? I was frozen in fear of what could happen to Nate. Oh my god, what would Spencer do to him? They could hurt him, I couldn’t let that happen. Nate please get off that stage. I was choking up in fear, unknowingly tearing up as my feet drag me to the railing, pressing myself against the bars. Wasn’t Nate aware of how dangerous a situation he was in? I tried to stay close enough, just in case something happened- I’d be there.

“Stop,” I hear Nate yell and I hold my breath like everyone else in the crowd.

Everything went silent, except for the sound of Mal’s incoherent screaming and crying as she was held back from reaching Charles Flynn.

“What's the point of this? Is this what's expected of a king?” Nate’s voice echoes throughout the entire space. Everyone was listening to him now, and right there.. I saw him transform from a scared boy to a man who spoke with a conviction that commanded everyone’s attention. That didn’t stop me from still fearing for his safety, it made me even more worried. Fools who run their mouths too much could wind up dead. But I saw him, the courage he musters with every word he said.

Nate looks to the king, and the king looked pissed off. Good lord, please don’t hurt him. I silently pleaded in my thoughts and tried to think of things rationally. The king couldn’t hurt his own son. But the anger in the king’s eyes made me fear the worst, gripping the bars with my hands tightly- anticipating what the next move was going to be. If Spencer even thought of laying a hand on Nate…

“If that's the case, I don't want it.” My jaw drops when those words come out of Nate’s mouth. For Christ’s sake Nate…

But I get it, I understand where he’s coming from when I hear the sound of the canes on Charles Flynn’s palms. This was the sound of terror, it was barbaric. This was not order- this was cruelty. I understood where Nate was coming from- his eyes usually gave everything away. The prince I knew often cared deeply for everyone around him, his kindness was one of his best traits- his selflessness was admirable, but equally frustrating.

His ability to empathize with others, his sympathy- his heart- was a quality that I loved about him because by being around him, well… the warmth of his spirit melted my the walls of ice I had built to protect myself from being emotionally attached to people.

The fearlessness of his stance against the king made him shine like a beacon of hope. I understand where he’s coming from.

“Why are you encouraging this, Why are you enjoying this? You’re literally watching a boy get tortured. He’s a kid.” Nate threw questions at the crowd with such disgust.

I was born to protect other people, the need to was incessant, but a need that made me want to be in the military in the first place. However, I’d rather give up my rank, my officership, my station to protect people from being an absent minded monster who just followed orders, like the ones bringing the canes down against the limp Charles Flynn… but wait.. another realization comes to me.

There could always be more people wearing those masks and holding those canes. Those men, striking the rebel… they were just following orders- if they stopped… there’d be always be more people thinking that they were just doing their duties. This injustice would continue, torture like this… it would happen again- because they were the king’s orders.

If I left my job… If Nate would leave being prince… who’s to say that the same thing won’t happen when Quinn’s on the throne? When Brooks is on the throne?

If we wanted to change the way things were… we couldn’t run away from them- we had to make sure that we change things ourselves.

I don’t think being just a pilot in the air force could help me change things.

Later, I needed to tell Nate this later.

“End this.” Nate yells to the direction of his parents, staring off his own father. I felt fear overcome me, scared of what Spencer would do to Nate again. What if he ordered the masked men to hit Nate?

Thankfully, after a silent beat… Spencer speaks up. “That's enough.”

I breath a sigh of relief as the barbaric torture on the rebel ends, and the masked torturers drag him away. The king wears a stoic face as he commands the crowd to disperse, but I turn to Nate’s direction- keeping an eye on him. He’s safe, I remind myself as I watch him walk away with Mallory in Brooks’ arms.

After Nate goes back into the palace, I do too. I was concerned for Nate, his well-being, I knew I needed to talk to him soon. So I walk quickly back to my room, enduring the pain of brisk walking on my sprain. I reach my desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen to write a quick note.

Natalie, we need to talk. Meet me up at the rooftop when you're free.

- Marshall Camille

It was time to talk.

#ch marshall #selectionoc #marshall fics #challenges #((damn will I ever give Marshall a break?))#((the answer is no))#((the girl shall suffer more))#((what do I mean by that? you'll see.. soon *wink wink*))#*evil laughter*

6 notes · View notes