#I did promise them I would pay for Puppy’s pills if I work though cause it’s like 200$ maybe less maybe more even I can’t remember a month

[yoohyeon]

Saw that the Tumblr icon on my iPad changed so I went to see what’s up and WE FINALLY CAN REPLY WITH THE BLOG WE WANT !!! THANK YOU !!! Now staff make it so when you block someone it’s block on all sb too thanks I’m tired of blocking 3 times

[artificialqueens]

Reckless (Bianca & Adore) - Candy Cane

A/N: im living in 2015 right now so like. ignore me fsdfsdf but anyways, here’s 2.8k of more incredibly self-indulgent fanfiction. i wrote this as platonic, but if you wanna see anything in here as romantic be my guest!! id like to thank chaoticnachokitten for supporting me and giving me ideas and beta'ing and i just- GAAAHH THANK YOU!! and thanks to everyone else who had such nice words to say abt my last one, it means soooo much 🥺🥺🥺

Summary: Adore and Bianca hang out, but of course things go wrong.

Adore loves hanging out with Bianca. Not only is she her best friend, but she’s the kind of person Adore thought would’ve hated her. But that’s not the case at all, there’s some sort of weird mutual respect and admiration going on between them, and it is fucking awesome.

The young musician knows she can be… a lot sometimes, what with her natural hyperactive toddler personality type, and it amazes her Bianca puts up with her. Especially in moments where Adore knows she shouldn’t be bothering her friend, but decides to anyways because Bianca can be boring sometimes. Moments like this one.

Adore had a gig at one of the clubs, and it ran much later than she had originally anticipated, but that was mostly due to her wanting to stay for Bianca’s set too. Of course, that led to them sharing a few too many drinks together while they stayed to watch some more performers. So when it came time for them to go home, Adore can’t find her keys.

It’s late. Late enough there’s no guarantee Adore’s roommates will be up to let her back into the apartment. The singer immediately turns to her oldest, nearest, dearest friend.

“Oh my God,” Bianca sighs whilst massaging her temples, seeing the next ten hours play out clear as day in front of her.

“Pleaaase can I stay at your place tonight Bia?” Adore asks, using her most pitiful voice and absolute poutiest facial expression.

They’re sat at a table in the back, Adore’s hands perched on Bianca’s knees as she essentially begs. Adore’s too drunk to care.

“Why don’t you call someone to see if they’ll stay up for you?” Bianca retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. To be fair, it probably is. Adore’s still too drunk to realize that though.

“Oh yeah,” she says, knowing she sounds like the world’s dumbest bitch. She fumbles with her phone for a few seconds, poking the screen and the on button for an embarrassing amount of time before turning to Bianca with another sad pouty face, “It’s dead.”

“Of course it’s fucking dead,” Bianca groans, playing it up like she really does mind Adore staying with her for the night. She doesn’t, she probably would never. Adore is like the niece she never had, and she wouldn’t trade that girl for the world.

“Why don’t I just call one of them on mine?” Bianca offers.

Adobe frowns, putting on her thinking face, “…I don’t remember their numbers.”

“I can call Courtney,” Bianca reminds her.

“Oh yeah!”

A few minutes later, they discover they cannot call Courtney. They try calling her twice, and both times are a bust.

She glances down at Adore, and chuckles when she sees the “Bambi eyes”. Even if she weren’t planning on letting the kid stay with her, that would’ve done her in. She hasn’t met a single person that can resist those eyes.

“I’ll be quiet! I promise!” the singer whines.

Bianca makes an exaggerated show of sighing and hemming and hawing, just to tease Adore, then cracks open a wide, amused smile, “Of course you can stay at my place, bitch.”

“Party!” Adore cheers, throwing her arms tightly around Bianca’s neck. It’s all the thanks Bianca needs.

They pay their bills, order a Lyft, and in more time than either would’ve preferred, they make it to Bianca’s huge ass apartment. The pair stumbles inside the building, trying to look as Not Drunk as they can, and failing miserably. It doesn’t matter anyways, it’s almost 3 a.m. meaning there’s not a soul alive there to watch them.

Bianca leads Adore to the elevator, even if it’s pointless because Adore randomly shows up at Bianca’s place at least three times a week. The singer grips Bianca’s hand tightly, giggling and stumbling while the comic practically barks at her to be quieter. They’re lucky it’s a Friday. Well, a Saturday now, Bianca supposes.

The pair climbs up the one flight of stairs to Bianca’s apartment, and then into the apartment itself after Bianca spends a couple minutes fumbling with her keys. The door swings open, and they both fall onto the nearest couch.

They’re breathless with laughter, and then it starts up again when Bianca realizes she hasn’t closed her apartment door yet.

After she locks her apartment back up and turns on some lights, the older woman finds she can’t take her eyes off of Adore. The younger is smiling so freely, and it ignites something inside Bianca. She’s not sure what it is, maybe youthfulness, or freedom, but she loves it.

“B! Oh my God! I have an idea!” Adore suddenly says, sitting up way too fast and clearly making herself dizzy.

“Don’t kill yourself, otherwise I’m the one that has to call 911. You think I want paramedics at my house before the sunrises? Fuck no,” Bianca berates her, but she’s quick to recompose herself when Adore goes all pouty again, “What’s your idea? God knows you only come up with a good one every millennium.”

Adore childishly sticks her tongue out at Bianca, “We should make waffles!”

“How the fuck are we supposed to make waffles? I’m not a cook, I don’t keep that shit in my house.”

Adore screws up her face cutely, clearly trying to think of a solution to her waffle problem. She brightens up again after a minute, looking very proud of herself, “Alyssa! I bet Alyssa has it!”

Bianca rolls her eyes, “You really think I wanna speak to her right now? At three in the goddamn morning?”

“But waffles!” Adore insists.

“Tomorrow,” Bianca promises, “Right now I want to get out of this clown costume and into bed.”

Adore sighs, then tries her best puppy eyes again, “Cuddles?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Bianca snorts. Adore smiles as bright as the sun, then at Bianca’s beckoning she follows her best friend down the hall so they can take off their makeup and get ready for bed. When they’re finally able to snuggle up in bed together, Adore in one of Bianca’s old shirts and pair of leggings, the whole apartment pitch black, and the only sound they could hear was the sound of each other’s breathing.

It’s soothing and warm. They sleep like rocks.

The sun wakes Adore up at way too fucking early though. Her head is pounding, her arm has fallen asleep from Bianca laying on it through the night, and she is really fucking hungry. Adore groans and gently pulls her arm out from under Bianca, then stumbles out of the way too big, way too soft bed to go find something to take care of her headache.

She’s quickly able to find where Bianca keeps those things (the mounted cabinet in the bathroom) because Adore used to spend a ridiculous amount of time at this apartment complaining about her ailments to Bianca, which of course lead Bianca to freely helping Adore out whenever. Bianca would act all cold and exasperated over it, but they both knew it was just a show.

Adore downs two of the pills dry and decides nearly immediately she should go find something to drink. In mere minutes she has a pot of coffee brewing, and simultaneously discovers that it’s only around 9 a.m.. Which is just overall… weird. Adore is almost never up this early, especially after the kind of night she had last night. The events of the night are still pretty fuzzy right now, but she still remembers everything. Mostly. She thinks.

One thing she does remember is a promise. A promise for waffles. Adore grins, an idea formulating in her head. Bianca is always so incredibly nice to her, helping her out and giving her whatever she wants. And sure, it’s not Mother’s Day, but that doesn’t mean Adore can’t show her appreciation for Bianca.

Clearly the woman deserves breakfast in bed. Courtesy of a little help from a next door neighbor (hopefully). The singer quickly grabs Bianca’s key off the counter and heads over to the one person she knows will have just what she wants.

Adore knocks on the door, and it’s only a minute later with an accompanied shout of ‘I’m comin’ hon!’ that the heavy white door is thrown open.

“Oh my goodness it’s Adore Delano!” Alyssa Edwards says excitedly, “Hello, doll!”

“Hi, Alyssa!” Adore smiles, “Um, I have a favor to ask of you?”

                                                                   ~*~

Bianca’s favorite way to wake up is slowly, with the sun streaming in through her bedroom window and having absolutely all the time in the world to get up, check her phone, and get ready for work. This morning is the exact fucking opposite.

First thing that wakes her up is the motherfucking fire alarm, causing her to scramble out of bed at a record speed. Second thing, she’s painfully aware that Adore isn’t in the bed with her. Bianca is halfway through screaming Adore’s name when she bursts out into the main room.

The main room is smokey as all hell. Adore is aiming a fire extinguisher at the counter from the other side of the kitchen. The counter is covered in white foam. Her damn fire alarm won’t shut up.

Bianca’s going to have a hard time explaining this one to the neighbors for sure.

The older woman breathes in slowly, but sharply, “Adore, what the fuck did you do?”

Adore doesn’t say anything. She lets go of the fire extinguisher, and they both wince when it crashes against the kitchen tile. Not for the first time, Bianca is glad that she lives on the first floor.

The two stare at each other, Adore resting boneless against the oven, her expression just screaming shock. She lifts her head to meet Bianca’s eyes.

Pounding on the door, someone starts shouting, “BIANCA?! HOLY GOD, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?”

The woman in question is quick to open her apartment door, but instead of accepting the concern, she barks out, “What do you want?”

“The whole damn building knows your alarms are going off, Bianca!” Alyssa says sharply, shoving her way inside the apartment, “My girls are coming over in two hours! I can’t have my house burning down on me.” Bianca and Adore share a twin look of surprise. Alyssa’s always been Bianca’s favorite neighbor, that’s no secret, but this is a tightly concealed side of her that neither of them have ever really seen. It’s concern. Worry. But not for herself, for them. Even if it does come off as something else. This is just something not usually associated with her.

“Okay,” Bianca says carefully, “What the fuck is going on.”

“That’s what I want to know,” Alyssa agrees, lips pursed skeptically, “Adore told me y’all were making waffles.” It’s absurd. The fire alarm is still blaring. Adore has crushed herself into a nook, looking petrified. Bianca is very hungover and her most beloved annoying neighbor is standing in her house at way too early o’clock. Bianca suddenly realizes that even though there’s no fire, there’s still smoke in her apartment, and she really wants that alarm to shut the fuck up. Also, the smoke is going to stain her expensive shit if she doesn’t get it out.

She starts to open all the windows in the main room, and is grateful when Alyssa comes to help her. They make short work of it, and when she turns around to look at her best friend, she feels scared.

She’s scared that Adore might be hurt. She’s scared that she didn’t do anything to prevent this. But mostly she’s scared that something might be broken between them.  

For the first time since walking in, Bianca notices bowls spread across her kitchen counter. Bowls and boxes and whisks… It clicks.

“Okay,” Bianca exhales, “Alyssa, what the fuck did you just say about waffles?”

“Adore came to me a little while ago and asked me if I could lend you two some waffle ingredients,” Alyssa starts slowly, “And I think to myself, ‘Now Alyssa Edwards, as a woman of God it is your duty to love your neighbor and let her make some waffles on this beautiful morning-’”

“Alyssa, you let my dumbass kid do WHAT?! You fucking know she can’t cook! We have had this conversation a hundred times!”

“Well, Adore said to me ‘Bianca and I’ not ‘I’m going to’! I thought you were gonna be helping her!”

“WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT? WHEN HAVE I EVER COOKED?!”

“I’m sorry!” Adore snaps, her voice quivering and tears welling up in her eyes, causing Bianca and Alyssa to turn to her, “I’m so, so sorry- I didn’t mean for this to happen! I just- I just wanted-”

Bianca stares at Adore with shock, not fully comprehending everything happening. Between her hangover and the sheer chaos of the first fifteen minutes of being awake, she’s not entirely sure why Adore is so distressed. Adore starts whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over to herself, hugging her knees tight to her chest, tears starting to crawl down her face, and it hits Bianca like a train.

“Alyssa…” Bianca says slowly, but she’s unable to tear her eyes away from Adore.

Adore’s blaming herself completely and totally. And it makes sense, she is the one that started the whole mess. But Bianca can’t stand that look on Adore’s face. She’d much rather put the blame on Alyssa (who can more than handle it) instead of Adore (who is currently having a nervous breakdown).

But Adore isn’t having it.

“No, this is my fault. I’m not- I’m not that stupid, Bianca. I’m not that useless, either. I’m not a kid. I’m not someone you should leave supervision for. I’m fucking twenty-four. Stop treating me like I’m not,” Adore’s words are cold, but her face tells Bianca the musician is falling apart, “Look me in the eye, Bianca.”

She does.

“Yell at me,” Adore says.

She can’t. Bianca doesn’t even want to. She feels like she failed here, because Adore isn’t her kid but God does it feel like it sometimes.

“We’ll replace your stuff, Alyssa,” is what Bianca says instead.

Luckily, the woman accepts that as her cue to go. She gives Bianca a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she leaves, and sends air kisses Adore’s way. Adore gives Alyssa a weak smile.

The door closes. Bianca and Adore lock eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bianca says. It’s a tired, worried voice. Not at all what Adore was expecting, or even wanted.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Adore answers simply, arms crossed defensively over her chest, “You do so much for me. For everyone. And I know you said last night we’d do it together but I just… I wanted to do something for you.”

That alone melt’s Bianca’s heart. It’s been getting easier and easier lately for Adore, and by extension the rest of their friends, to do that. For a while she thought moving to this city was stupid, and probably the worst decision of her life. But even now, after such a chaotic fucking twenty-five minutes of being awake, Bianca is so happy she’s here.

“Next time, buy me something online,” Bianca says, warm and forgiving, instead of cold and biting like Adore would’ve expected.

The younger practically runs into Bianca’s open arms. The embrace is full of love, and Adore feels that it’s okay. She still blames herself, she’s still stupidly upset, but Bianca… Bianca makes her feel like everything will be okay.

They sit there hugging for a few minutes, then Bianca mutters, “Good thing you knew how to use that extinguisher, I think that’s been hanging there for ten years.”

Adore chuckles wetly, face buried into Bianca’s shoulder, “Yeah… Hey, shouldn’t have all the other alarms gone off too?”

Bianca freezes. Adore is right, all the other fire alarms in the building should’ve had people evacuating.

“I guess the building needs to get that fixed, huh? Maybe you being a walking disaster is a good thing after all, if that had been real, everyone would’ve been fucked.”

“Wow,” Adore whispers, “Maybe our building should get that checked too…? Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“What?!” Bianca asks, pulling away from Adore to see what’s wrong.

“I never went home last night,” Adore says, “I never charged my phone. I never texted my roommates.”

Bianca suddenly doubles over laughing, fully bellied and absolutely batshit crazy, “Good, Courtney doesn’t get nearly enough stress in her life!”

Adore breaks out into a grin, and feels her worries start to melt away. Somehow, Bianca is really fucking good at doing that.

“Alright,” Bianca sighs, looking at the pure mess that is now her kitchen, “Let’s charge our phones and order breakfast.”

And they do.

Neither would’ve spent the hour following that disaster any other way.

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 4

Chapter title: Piano keys and heartstrings Read the previous installments here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Slight cursing, alcohol use, sexual tension A/N: Plenty of fluffy fluff and feels in this chapter! More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! X

My first inkling of the jealousy my friendship with Taron, and by association Richard, had caused came that very next day. I had just made it to the studios and ran to the bathrooms, my bladder about to burst as the tube had been running extraordinarily behind that day. I shut myself into a stall, wrestled my way out of my leotard and tried to stop the moan of relief as I finally was able to pee just as a group of girls pushed their way in, chattering among themselves. I recognized their voices almost immediately; there were four dancers, all of them from the same kickline team, who had had nothing to do with anyone but themselves. They were cliquey and snotty and incredibly lucky they were talented because they sure wouldn’t be picked based on their personalities.

“I don’t know why that twiggy bitch thinks she’s better than anyone else,” one of the girls said.

“Ugh, I know Riley. She’s got nothing on you but all they do is pay attention to her. Like she’s special or something.”

“She’s not even that pretty,” one of the other girls sniffed. I had to roll my eyes as I realized they were talking about me. The next thing they said was lost to me as I flushed the toilet and had the satisfaction of the girls all falling dead silent when I popped the door open and stepped out. I just gave my most winning smile to their expressions of surprise reflected in the mirror while I washed my hands, and left the bathroom with my head held high. I promised myself to take the high road with those girls although I didn’t understand their jealousy really.

I hadn’t expected or sought out Taron’s friendship at all. If anything it really had fallen into my lap, or rather, I had fallen into it, quite literally. I would have loved to have rubbed it in their faces that I had a date Saturday night with him, but people like that rarely learned and it would only add fuel to their jealous fire. Twiggy bitch, though, that was a new one.

I made my way to the studio and plopped down next to Leah, needing to avoid Markus for the moment if I could. I started warming myself up, and Markus was trying to make eye contact with me. I just couldn’t handle putting on a show for him for the moment, so instead I turned to Leah and told her what the other girls had said about me and she instantly sympathized.

“You shouldn’t listen to a bloody thing those girls say. Bad apples in every bunch, you know,” she shrugged. “Besides, I think it’s nice that Taron is chummy with you. You seem to put him at ease when he’s around you,” she grinned.

“Really?” I said a bit nervously. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way before.

“You make everyone around you feel more comfortable and confident. Look at Pietre, for example,” Leah said, waving her hand over at my tow-headed friend, who was casually chatting with a couple of other guys. “When he came in here he didn’t say a word to anyone and I didn’t even think he was going to be able to make it through auditions. But your encouragement and support really helped him come out of his shell. And I think Taron’s been a bit anxious until he sees you and then he just lights up. That’s a very special quality you have. You’re like the mother hen to all of us, but in the most supportive way possible.”

“That’s … incredibly kind of you,” I said softly, feeling incredibly humbled.

“So it’s any wonder that he gravitated to you. If I only had half the magnetism you possess...,” she laughed.

“I totally owe you a lunch or something now,” I said, overwhelmed by the sweet words.

“What, for saying something that’s true?” she asked, so nonchalantly I’m not sure she realized how much it had hit me in the heart.

We were busy through rehearsals and I could instantly tell that Taron was already feeling more confident, being playful with the routine and not having to concentrate so hard on the steps themselves. My heart especially soared when he effortlessly nailed that move we’d worked so hard on; to be a part of helping him exude that confidence made me feel a bit proud. No one else had to know that, of course. It would stay our little secret.

Once rehearsals were over, Markus immediately came up to me, telling me how much he’d missed seeing me yesterday when we didn’t have rehearsals; a part of me felt instantly bad for the things I had been thinking after our date night. Looking at those puppy dog eyes he was giving me now, I really wondered if I was just being a bitch to him, so I vowed to myself that I would give him a chance when I wasn’t being a drunken idiot.

“Yeah, I missed you too,” I smiled genuinely, appreciating the way his sweaty shirt clung to the muscles of his chest. He was an incredibly sculpted man, I can tell you that.

“We should hang out again soon, maybe Saturday?” he offered, and I had to shake my head.

“I already have plans, sorry,” I said, trying to play up being chagrined even though those plans were with Taron, and I was very much looking forward to it. “But maybe we could catch up on Monday after rehearsals?”

“That sounds lovely,” he said, giving me a toothy smile that lit up his whole face. Okay, it wasn’t Taron’s crinkly-eyed smile, but it was still cute.

“Can I ask you a kind of personal thing?” I said, looking around me just to make sure no one was over-hearing us, but everyone was caught up in their own conversations. He nodded and I had to gather up my courage to ask. “Did you wear a condom when we slept together? Because I don’t really remember that and I feel like I need to know.”

“Well no, I didn’t. You’re on the pill, right?” he replied with a bit of a shrug, and I felt my heart stutter a little bit in my chest. Shit.

“I’m not, Markus. It’s always messed my body up really badly, so I can’t take it,” I said, cringing slightly. How could he just assume that about every girl he slept with? What a massive oversight.

“Ahhhh,” he said, seeming surprised at least but not nearly as worried as I felt he should be. “We’ll talk about this later, when we have some one-on-one time,” he said, looking over my shoulder. I turned around and spotted Taron walking toward us, and he looked from my worried expression to Markus’ startled one, and at once seemed concerned.

“Everything alright?” He asked as he sidled up next to me, placing a hand gently at the small of my back. That wasn’t lost on Markus as he drew himself up to his full height in some weird kind of effort to intimidate Taron.

“We’re doing perfectly well over here, thanks,” Markus replied in a steely manner as they both stared each other down.

“Well, I was just heading out, so… I’ll see you two later,” I replied, not willing to be in the center of whatever this was turning out to be. Markus was threatened by Taron, and Taron was jealous of Markus; neither of them had any need to feel those things, but the tension was making me feel uncomfortable. Taron seemed to read that vibe from me though and backed down slightly, but I still hurriedly grabbed my bag and shuffled out of the room without giving either of them a glance backward. 

I had other things to freak out about, like the fact that Markus could potentially have gotten me pregnant. It was mostly unlikely but not totally impossible, and I still had two weeks to go until my next period. It was going to be a very long, anxious two weeks. Another baby would probably completely derail everything I’d worked so hard to build, especially with a guy I wasn’t 100 percent into. The idea of it felt rather devastating, no matter how much I loved my daughter, and all of this fear made me feel even more confused.

I took the tube home and fell face first onto my couch, completely exhausted. Between maintaining classes, Rocketman rehearsals, being a mom and now this new weird balancing act between Markus and Taron, I could barely handle my emotions or keep myself awake. Still, my phone pinged with a text and I made myself dig my phone out of my purse and focus on the text.

<Is everything really alright? You looked so completely upset when I walked up.> Taron had texted me.

<I’m not really sure to be honest, Taron, but I’ll figure it out. I have to.>

<You will and I’m here to support you fully. If you need anything at all, let me know, okay?> he sent back, making my heart twinge slightly. I didn’t deserve his kindness, that was for sure.

<Thank you, that means a lot.>

<Of course. Are you going to be seeing Markus again?> he asked, and I closed my eyes and sighed slightly at that.

<Yes. I think it’s only fair to give him another chance.>

<You don’t have to explain to me. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay, that you’ll be safe. Maybe I’m a little protective of the people I care about, but I can’t see that as a bad thing.> 

I’m someone he cares about?, I wondered, my brain a bit of a haze as I unintentionally slipped off to sleep, my phone still in my hand. When I woke up later it was fully into night. My neck had a painful crimp in it from sleeping in a funny position, and I just felt more exhausted than before. I was actually grateful for once that Clara was spending the night with her father. I needed to get some food ready, so I dragged myself off the couch and made a quick bite before taking care of Troy and making sure he was settled in before calling it an early night.

I didn’t exactly wake up the next morning feeling refreshed, but I was at least not half-dead. Which was good, because I had two morning classes to teach, including my much-loathed aerobics class, before heading to rehearsals. I was already sweaty and gross when I made it across town with barely any time to spare. I took my spot on the floor for warm-ups, noticing Taron and Richard weren’t there yet, and then disappointed to find out they wouldn’t be in rehearsal that day after all. I felt like I was going through the motions a little bit as we started working on some choreography, my mind focused on other things, and I was just grateful my body knew how to take over.

At some point in the middle of rehearsal a thin woman with a pinched face came in and spoke to the choreographer briefly. He looked at me and called me over, my stomach dropping to my toes instantly. “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to wipe the sweat off my face.

“A man came here asking for you. He said he was your ex,” the woman with the pinched face said. I felt my heart racing as I worried that something bad had happened to Clara.

“Make it quick,” the choreographer said, but not unkindly, and went to assist someone else. I stepped outside and followed the woman down a couple hallways and into an office, where Zayn and my daughter were sitting. Clara was busy playing a game on Zayn’s phone and seemed overall okay, though she shouldn’t have been out of school yet.

“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.

“I punched a boy because he was teasing my friend and saying not nice things to her and then he pushed me down when I told him to stop,” Clara said before Zayn even had a chance to speak.

“The school suspended her for the rest of the day,” Zayn added. “Mostly so the parents of the boy wouldn’t try and sue. Clara gave him a bloody nose.”

“Oh, Clara-Bean,” I said, shaking my head but finding it hard to be mad at my daughter.

“Well he’s a big bully and everyone knows it and the teachers won’t make him stop. So I did,” Clara said defiantly.

“Yes, well, using your fists probably wasn’t the best way to handle that, sweetheart. I commend you for defending your friend, but there are other ways to handle bullies,” I said carefully, wanting to make it clear violence wasn’t the answer, but not wanting to discourage her spirit either. “Next time you come to me and we’ll figure out a solution together, okay?” I said.

“Yes, mummy,” Clara said with a nod.

“Anyway, I need to get back to work. I was hoping you could take her for a bit,” Zayne cut in. “I just started this new job and I don’t have any sick time I can take. They were being generous in letting me get Clara from school as it is after you weren’t picking up your phone.”

I ran a hand over my face and tried to figure out what to do. I wasn’t sure I could be excused from rehearsal for this, but it would take my mum at least half an hour to get across town. I sighed and called my mum, making sure she could come pick Clara up, and my daughter would just have to sit in the studio and hopefully behave for the next half-hour or so. 

As we were leaving the office, though, of course we just happened to run into Taron, and I suddenly felt a wave of anxiety pass through me. While I knew Taron needed to be told about my daughter and my past if we were to continue our relationship, this was not exactly how I had planned it.

“Hey! Shouldn’t you be in rehearsal?” he grinned cutely at me, brightening at seeing me, as he always did.

“Should be, yeah. Had a bit of a family emergency though,” I said, nodding at my daughter. “Taron, this is Clara,” I said, not even realizing I was holding my breath but he took it completely in stride and if he was surprised, he kept it off his face.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Clara,” he said, offering his hand, which she took and shook rather enthusiastically.

“I’m 7 and mum says I’m too smart for my own good,” she announced, making Taron just chuckle.

“Is that so? Well being smart is never a bad thing,” he said with a wink.

“I guess so,” she said with a shrug. “All the other kids make fun of me though.”

“Well some day you will be the boss and all the other kids will have to work for you, and then it won’t matter,” he replied, and the smile that spread on Clara’s face was the sweetest thing to see.

“Did you hear that mummy? I’m going to be the boss!” she said excitedly, and I laughed with her excitement.

“I do believe it’s true,” I smiled, before introducing Zayn as well. Taron was polite with him and Zayn excused himself quickly after that to get back to work. “My mum’s on her way to pick up Clara, but I just don’t know what to do about her until mum gets here,” I sighed as Taron walked along with us back toward the rehearsal room.

“I could give her a tour of the place, show her all the interesting bits, if that’d help you out. I’m literally doing nothing at the moment,” Taron offered.

“Oh, I can’t ask that of you,” I said, shaking my head.

“You didn’t ask, but I’m offering. It’ll be fun for me too, you know? I’ve got two sisters around Clara’s age,” he smiled, turning to Clara. “Would you like to see the recording room?” he grinned a bit mischievously, and Clara instantly lit up.

“Can I mummy? Please?” she asked. Damn if Taron hadn’t gotten around my objections far too easily. I wasn’t about to disappoint my daughter now.

“You two have fun then,” I said, a bit helplessly as Taron just winked at me.

“Oh, we will. Now get back to dancing,” Taron grinned, and I had to think I was crazy for leaving my daughter just randomly in his care, but what could a half-hour really hurt, right?

I returned to rehearsals and tried to keep my mind focused, but I couldn’t help wondering what Taron and my daughter were up to, hoping she was behaving for him. She was a good kid, but could be precocious when she wanted to be. I was so grateful when rehearsal was finally over. It’d been another hour and my mum had left me a text that she had arrived at the studios but then I got nothing else. I quickly called her as I gathered up my bag, but she didn’t answer. I also texted Taron and got no answer from him either. I wanted to assume that my mum had found Taron and Clara and already left, but I wasn’t absolutely sure, so I hurried along the labyrinth of hallways, looking into rooms and trying to find Taron if nothing else.

I heard the giggles long before I found them, followed by some tinkling of piano keys. I quietly snuck up on the room, peeking around the corner. Seated on the piano bench side-by-side were Taron and Clara, my mum looking on from the side. I pulled my phone out and couldn’t help quietly taking a couple of snaps, especially when Clara looked adoringly up at Taron, and he was smiling sweetly down at her. It stole my heart for a moment until Clara finally noticed me haunting the doorway.

“Mummy!” she squealed excitedly. “Taron is teaching me to play like Elton!” she said. “Can we play it for her?” she asked Taron excitedly, and he grinned and nodded. 

“You remember the notes, right?” he said so gently as Clara placed her fingers eagerly on the keys. They played the first few bars of music from “Your Song” together, Taron playing the chords while Clara did a fairly decent job with the melody. They hadn’t gotten very far into the song, but she was still so excited about it that all of us were left beaming.

“That was so good, Clara-Bean!” I grinned, giving her a hug and mouthing ‘Thank you’ to Taron as I did so. I was also trying hard not to swoon over Taron himself being so sweet with my daughter.

“She’s going to be a real talent, dear,” my mum said proudly. We chatted a little bit longer but I didn’t want to take up much more of Taron’s time, though he promised me he truly enjoyed spending time with Clara.

“See you tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at 6?” Taron said as we were taking our leave.

“I’ll be ready!” I said with a grin.

As my mum and I and Clara left the studios, my mum turned to me and placed a hand on my arm. “You need to hold onto that one if you can, dear. Handsome AND good with kids? He’s perfect for you!”

“Mum!” I said with a laugh. “We’re just friends right now. I don’t know that he’d want a ready-made family like that anyway,” I said, shrugging the idea of it out of my brain immediately. It wouldn’t do me any good to get my hopes up, though I was grateful Taron hadn’t seemed remotely bothered that I already had a daughter.

I made arrangements to take Clara over to my mum’s for an overnight Saturday before my date; I think my mum might have been more excited for it than I was at the moment. I’m sure she just wanted me to find someone to be happy with after seeing me go through so much in the past with Zayn and a handful of other awful experiences with men. I hadn’t really told her about Markus either, and didn’t intend to unless it became an actual thing.

My daughter and I spent a quiet Friday evening pigging out on pizza and ice cream in front of the telly, watching our favorite movies together and even painting our nails “every color of the rainbow” as Clara requested. We both crashed hard when we could no longer keep our eyes open, slept in late, had a lazy breakfast of cereal and orange juice, packed an overnight bag for Clara and then played with Troy until it was time to take her over to my mum’s.

Once Clara was good and settled in with her grandmum, I made a couple of quick errands before getting myself home again with enough time to get ready. I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect and Taron hadn’t given me any hints as to where he was taking me. I decided a cute comfortable dress (navy blue and white lace, and the best part, with pockets!) and a cardigan would be dressed up enough for something more formal but still casual enough to pass if he chose that too. I piled my hair up in a bun, figuring there was no point in straying too far from the person he already knew I was, dashed on some makeup and otherwise tried to not get too nervous as I waited for Taron to arrive. Was it even possible to not be nervous? I thought to myself.

When the doorbell rang, right on time I might add, Troy immediately ran over to it, barking to announce we had a visitor. I quickly pulled the door open and found Taron standing there, looking dashing as ever in a striped shirt, black jacket and a black hat pulled over his hair. I couldn’t help but stare a little bit as I greeted him. “Hi. Hey. Um… Troy, sit!” I said, my face probably turning red as my dog tried to jump excitedly on Taron.

“Hey there buddy!” he said, patting Troy for a second before grinning at me. “You look beautiful as ever,” he said, leaning in and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. He offered his arm and I took it after grabbing my clutch and locking the door behind me, telling Troy to be a good boy; the dog seemed only a little put out to be left behind. Taron opened the car door for me, which was super sweet, before getting in the driver’s seat.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he said with an amused grin on his face as he put the car in gear.

“I’ve saved up my appetite,” I giggled lightly. “So where are you taking me?” I joked.

“That’s a surprise,” he just chuckled, taking my hand gently as he drove. “I like these colors by the way,” he said, lifting my hand to his mouth and placing a sweet kiss on my fingers, making my heart want to skip a few beats.

“Oh! That! Yeah, I let Clara choose the colors and forgot to take the polish off,” I laughed, almost feeling shy in front of him.

“I think it’s amazing how sweet you are with your daughter,” he grinned over at me. “She’s an adorable kid and by the looks of it, has an amazing mum too.” There had been very few times I’d been rendered speechless in my life; that statement was one of them.

“I… Taron,” I said softly, staring down at my lap.

“You needn’t be shy about that around me,” he said gently. “I do feel how kids turn out is often a direct reflection of their parents. You should be proud that you have a bright, happy, spirited child.”

“She’s something else,” I laughed. “Let’s just say she was having a really good day yesterday. You haven’t seen the tantrums and fits,” I grinned.

“Oh I’m sure it goes with the territory,” he chuckled. “I really would love to experience all that parenthood offers some day,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling the way that I so loved.

When someone talks about having feels, well, I was having all of them at the moment. I was sure he could hear my heart beating right out of my chest. Hearing Taron talk about wanting kids some day was just nearly too much to bear, and I truly did believe he’d make an amazing dad. The conversation naturally moved on to other topics, but the feels definitely lingered.

We arrived at The Ledbury and I had to take a double-take over the restaurant he had chosen. “Taron, this is fancy as shit! I’m way under-dressed!” I said, and he had a laugh over that.

“Nonsense. People eat here in jeans and hipster jackets, you’re just fine. In fact, I imagine you’ll be the loveliest woman in the place, if I have anything to say about that,” he said. I felt my heart ache yet again over what he said and I was not going to survive this night if he kept looking at me the way he was at that moment. “Come on then,” he said after clearing his throat and having to tear his eyes away.

We made our way into the gorgeous building, with black curtains adorning the spacious windows that let plenty of light in. I took in the space, the round tables covered in white cloths and plush upholstered chairs. Taron gave his name for our reservation and we were seated and immediately offered wine, to which we both agreed.

I looked over the menu, trying not to gasp out loud at the price of the four-course dinner, but Taron seemed completely nonplussed about it. Right, he was living in a different world than me, where he could pay for a 300-euro meal without blinking but I had to use coupons for basics like noodles and bread, I reminded myself.

I was determined to enjoy every last bite of this meal, though, so I made my selections and just tried to tune into the conversation, enjoying the wine maybe a little more than I should. We laughed a lot though, and I found that I was truly enjoying his company, more than I could have thought possible. He was engaging, kind in every way, funny as hell and charming to bits, and I found myself really opening up to him. I told him about my upbringing, with my mum raising me by herself after my dad left when I was just a tiny tot, and why I was determined that Clara at least know who her father was even if he had disappointed me so much over the years. Taron listened in his patient way and never judged any of my past pain, and for that I was eternally grateful.

I got him talking about Rocketman while we ate, and seeing him so passionate about the project and so endlessly excited about his burgeoning friendship with Elton made me really happy. 

And that food, my god, I probably could have just gone straight to heaven after that meal. I couldn’t even identify half of what I was putting in my mouth, but it was exquisite nonetheless. And of course every meal course was paired with an amazing wine, and of course I had to drink every last drop of that wine, so I was feeling really good - okay, maybe quite buzzed - by the time we ended our meal with the brown sugar tart and buffalo milk meringue. Taron, for his part, had been more careful about imbibing, probably because he would have to drive later.

It’d gotten quite late by the time Taron helped my giggling self back out to the car. The service had been superb, but not exactly fast, and we’d definitely whiled away the hours together. We made the drive back to my house, giggling over stupid shit and singing way too loudly to the radio with the windows down. It was the most alive I had felt in a long time, to be honest, as I let the wind from the open windows whip loose strands of my hair around my face.

Once we arrived back at my house, Taron insisted on walking me to my door, and in a small bit of courage I decided to invite him in. He looked hesitant for a moment, but then caved and followed me in. I showed him about the space, glad it didn’t look like too much of a hot mess, though I had to sweep several of Clara’s toys off the couch so we could sit. Troy demanded some attention but after we doted on him a bit he finally wandered off to his bed and laid down.

“It’s been an amazing evening, so thank you,” I grinned at him, and realized I truly meant it. I couldn’t really believe how fun it had been, really getting to just spend time outside of work and dance together. We had some things in common, certainly, and he didn’t feel so far away from me, sitting on my couch and looking at me like I was the only girl in the world at the moment.

It made my breath catch in my chest slightly as he reached over and brushed the wild strands of hair back sweetly. “I have enjoyed myself thoroughly in your company. I feel that I should thank you also,” he smiled, his eyes tracing the lines of my lips. We stared at each other for that small space of time and then we were leaning into each other, our lips crashing against each other’s in our sweet but hungry kisses. I could still taste the wine on his lips, and I felt my body light on fire as he naturally pulled me into him.

I slid my leg over his lap so I was straddling him, aware of how close I now was, my chest pressed tightly to his as all the wine I’d drank allowed my instincts and hormones to take over my brain. I deepened the kisses, wanting more despite my better judgments, and Taron didn’t hold back either as he pulled my cardigan off, his fingers traveling over my bare arms, and then running over my waist and my stomach, then down to my thighs, where the hem of my dress had ridden up. I’m pretty sure I moaned into his mouth at that point, and I could feel him growing hard between us.

Something wicked must have taken over me, because I ground my hips against him and was rewarded with the most delicious groan as his eyes fluttered slightly. We kissed a few more times but then he pulled away, leaving me panting, and leaned his forehead against mine.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered. 

“What?” I asked, crashing back down to earth with a hard mental thud. “Why not? You clearly want this.”

“But you’re clearly drunk and I can’t take that decision away from you. I’d hate myself forever for that. I need to know it’s you that wants me and not just the wine,” he said, his eyes pleading with me to understand.

I groaned slightly and slid off his lap then, needing to remove myself from the temptation. I knew he had a point, I knew it in the little bit of logical brain I still had left, but that didn’t mean the rejection still didn’t sting. “Of course,” I said, frowning slightly, my lips still tingling and my body still throbbing uncomfortably.

“Please don’t hate me,” he said, his brow wrinkling in concern and sadness.

“God, I don’t hate you Taron,” I rolled my eyes. “No one could hate you. You’re like a bucket of puppies or whatever,” I said, my head beginning to join the throbbing party. I grabbed a pillow and laid my head down on it and sighed.

“You should get some sleep. You might feel better in the morning about things,” he said softly, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch where it was draped and laying it over me gently. I didn’t have the energy to protest this, really, so I closed my eyes and nodded.

“Yes dear,” I yawned, still clearly not in full control of myself and not even realizing that word had slipped out of my mouth. Taron smiled softly and leaned over, kissing me on the forehead.

“I’ll call you in the morning, maybe bring over breakfast, yeah?” he said as I nodded my head, half-asleep already. “This is most certainly to be continued, love” he whispered in my ear, his voice a deep timbre, before leaving me to fall headfirst into my slumber. To be continued? I wondered at that as Taron saw himself out the door. What could he possibly mean?

How will Taron and Juliette’s relationship unfold? And will the drama between Juliette and Markus continue? Keep reading to find out in Chapter 5 HERE!

[neilthechiseler]

This Story Used To Be About Joan

(Or “How To Finish Writing A Story In Ten Easy Years”)

[Reveries of a wannabe writer after the cut.]

This story used to be about Joan. 

That was about a dozen drafts ago. For the purposes of this testimony, I’ve moved past Joan as a character, but since this used to be her story, I feel compelled to tell you that Joan was a sweet-natured, mildly trippy woman in her mid-to-late 20s who had just given up smoking and her boyfriend of seven years. It was over a clash of life approaches. For Joan, life was about singing the song of herself, because she contained multitudes, and what was true for her was good for anybody. Dennis, on the other hand, was hung up on the world. Petty things like keeping the power bill paid. Food in the refrigerator. You know, crap like that.

Since Joan was a free woman again, she’d gone back to her default mode of dressing like the best rack at Goodwill and furnishing her apartment like the worst end of large item pick-up day on the garbage route. She had dark bangs that she’d finally gotten right, just like the woman on TV. She was going to get an iPhone just like her (and that should tell you how long this has been on the to-do pile) until she realized that she’d screwed up her credit rating several years ago when she wasn’t paying attention to what she was signing. You see, she was really into textures at that particular moment, and the feel of the paper was a monumental distraction. Besides, minimum service agreements were tools of corporate hostility, and she felt the same way about paying early termination fees. Sunk again by philosophical differences.

In fact, it was as she was walking back from the cell phone store, tripping along to music that only she could hear, that she found a puppy, the kind her mom used to call a “Heinz 57 mutt”. It was sitting in a cardboard box which was apparently its current home, foraging in the garbage for its breakfast…which, being in the bin behind an appliance store, is drilling a dry hole, but dogs find a way. Joan picked up the little guy and got a flood of instant-validation affection. The decision was made. The dog was coming home.

From there, Joan’s story would be heading into the adventures being a single pixie in a fair-to-middling town and how she has to adjust to the puppy way of doing things, pulling Joan out of herself and dealing with the needs of another living thing for the first time in her life—never mind that she’d just shared a life with another living thing for seven years, because continuity is for cowards. The story would’ve been warm and kind, full of the wonderful lessons that animals can teach us, because they’re so like us, you know?  In other words, it would’ve been a copy of Chicken Soup For The Soul soaked overnight in an indie rock soundtrack until it was a soggy mess that just fell apart in your hands.

So you see why I had to ditch that crap with great speed.

Then I started thinking about the previous owner of the puppy. After all, somebody finds a puppy, somebody loses a puppy. Either that or somebody tells a puppy to get lost. So now we were on the story of a brown-haired boy with skinned knees and a crooked smile who promised his dad that yes, he could take care of a dog. His mom went behind the old man’s back and helped the boy pick out a dog from the shelter. 

While the boy was in the process of losing his mind, Liz, mother of one (“but some days it feels like two,” she usually tells her friends), noticed that her husband was looking on with an almost rictus grin. “It’s going to be fine, Tony,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder as they settled into the porch swing. “A boy that age needs something to get out of his own head. Care about things other than himself. Y’know?”

Tony finally snapped out of it, just enough to wrap his arm around Liz. “Yeah. We’ll just see about that.” 

The first three days were filled with the type of kid/dog romping that used to be underscored in family movies with a lonesome harmonica and guitar accompaniment. On day number four, however, the boy left the back gate open, and the puppy (who, even as a puppy, had become rightly freaked out by the boy’s strenuous, hands-on type of love) made a break for it.

It took the boy awhile to notice his mistake. He was busy burning ants with a magnifying glass, and wondering how long it would take to burn the squirrel that had ruined his pine cone bird feeder. When he finally figured out what had happened, an ungodly piercing wail of misery went through the air. The old man was on deck first.  “What’s got into you, champ?”

“Daaaaaaddy, the (blub) puppy (blub) got (snort) awaaaaay!” Through blubbing and snorting and snot bubbles, he relayed an edited version of the past hour that he thought would let him off the hook. “Help me find him?”

A kind of hardness crept into the father’s face, possibly because he had heard nothing but the puppy and the puppy and the puppy all week, and he was the one feeding the dog and cleaning its “peeps and poops”, as the rest of the household insisted on calling them. If this is a test, the boy’s failing, he told himself. And here comes a teachable moment. “I dunno, champ, this dog is your responsibility, so maybe it should be your responsibility to bring him home.” Then, just to twist the knife, “Better get your umbrella. Looks like a storm’s coming.”

What was coming was a torrential downpour that flipped the child’s cheap plastic Ninja Turtle umbrella inside-out almost instantly. Because of the miserable visibility, he ended up walking well past his “safety zone”, calling for the dog with a name the animal would never recognize because the baby genius had never bothered to tell the dog what its name was. That was the least of his worries, though, because when he was barely 100 yards from his subdivision, the driver of a tractor-trailer, fresh as a chemically-preserved daisy on his 30th working hour without sleep, suddenly lost control of his rig.

And at this point, with the steel behemoth close to spilling its presumably-toxic-to-humans cargo all over the suburbs, its indifferent headlights staring down a child who didn’t think he’d have cause to regret not mulling over his life insurance options this early in the school year, and two years away from the divorce hearings that would take the boy upstate with his mother while the dad dedicated his basement to a massive train set that he was convinced would make everything right again, let’s take a brief intermission.  

You might have noticed that I never named that child, and there’s a good reason for that: the little punk was a unsentimental aggravation. In a “write what you know” sort of way, I used to be that kid…and I couldn’t stand me either. At the same time, if I actually did the kid in, I’d either be drawn and quartered by a sentimental public, or I’d run the risk of clicking with an audience who kind of gets off on stories about kids being run over by diesel-fueled death. Since their money spends just as well as anybody else’s, I’d have to find new and “exciting” ways to flatten children, and who wants that on his head? If that makes me a coward, then fine, I lost my nerve.

(Occasionally someone reminds me that there’s a third much more likely option, that people could continue to ignore all this noise. My response is always the same: “Who the hell gave you this address?”)

Anyway, this is the point where I started thinking about the truck driver. At the time there were reality shows, news reports, and darkly amusing YouTube videos about truckers and the grueling lives they lead. Why not the truck driver?

His name was “Sweet William” Dallas, entering his second decade of cross-country freight hauling. William’s nickname was from a Leon Redbone song, and he had a tattoo of the man himself from the cover of Double Time on his left bicep, both of which he regretted once he decided Lynyrd Skynyrd was a better fit for him. 

Bill, as he now begged friends and coworkers to call him (which was the primary reason why they didn’t), was trying to finish a big-money run a day ahead schedule because his silver-haired mother was fading fast. At least that’s the way she put it after spending a week dealing with his aggravating brother, who had broken an arm trying to fish the TV remote out from behind the big dresser. "Get Richie out of here,” she had texted him a few days ago. “He’s really screwing up the schedule for my krav maga lessons.”

That gave William at least two deadlines to beat, and to that end, a twitchy neighborhood kid sold him a cluster bomb of caffeine pills and other stimulants, which our driver had been popping like M&Ms since Fredericksburg. Bill was either so tweaked or so zonked that he thought Unnamed Kid was a deer (a deer in jeans and a Polo shirt) when his truck told him to screw off and turned itself into a telephone pole flattener. 

(At which point I tell myself “Now that’s a pathetic way to put a button on a story. What about the drug dealer? Yeah, the dealer, let’s roll with that for awhile.”)

Andy was as thin as nothing squared, wearing a Make America Great Again cap pulled down tight over his sweaty forehead and an army jacket from the dumpster behind Goodwill buttoned to his neck, even in summertime. As far back as he could remember—that’d be last Tuesday—he wanted to launch a career in recreational pharmaceuticals, and attempted to jump-start a weed concern. Unfortunately, not only did he have a “black thumb” for agriculture, but no sense of effective camouflage, as his arresting officer told him. So he ended up in the bottom-feeding world of ordering pills from the ads in the back of High Times and selling them with a markup to people who couldn’t find a better connection. His primary clientele was desperate people on a deadline (mostly reckless college students), but sometimes he got special cases, like a young twentysomething woman who was just coming off of a long-term relationship…

Hold on a minute. That’s Joan, isn’t it? You do remember Joan, don’t you? This used to be her story, you know.

Not only is Joan more tenacious than I thought, but she turned out to have a few more jagged angles than she appeared to on first blush. She claims that her plot refused to launch because it kept blowing sunshine up my ass. No argument there, but to remedy that, she decided to go dancing on a patch of ice, screw her back up, and get hooked on under-the-counter pain killers...a shocking number of them homeopathic, which is a hell of a trick if you can pull it off. Joan insists all that had nothing to do with me, but there’s this hopeful look in her eyes when she says it that, under the circumstances, scares the crap out of me. So negotiations with Joan have resumed, because as much as I don’t want fictional people to wreck themselves for attention, there’s a mercenary streak in me that wants to see if this goes anywhere marketable.

So watch this space. Maybe the next time you read this, it’ll be about Joan again. Who knows?

That kid’s not coming back, though.

--enw

[creativitytoexplore]

[TH] Vessel https://ift.tt/3g01sAV

When Daniel died, I thought, perfect. Now I could finally have the life I wanted, with the girl I wanted, out in the open for everyone to see. Not at first, obviously, that would’ve been wrong. And I’ll admit, I would’ve missed sneaking around with Julia. Though I suppose she was the one sneaking around, wasn’t she? I was just along for the ride. We’d wait for Daniel to go to work and then I’d slip on over. I’d never felt that kind of rush before. It’s the kind of thing I’d only seen in movies, and that was exactly how it felt, as we giggled under the sheets about how bad we were being. “This is fun,” she’d whispered to me one night. The way she said it… I’d replay it in my mind over and over.

I understand if you think I’m horrible. That’s because you don’t know Daniel. The guy was a tool. At dinner one night, he’d told Julia’s mother that Julia was “all set” as they were considering dessert. Imagine that? My piece of shit job couldn’t afford the places he’d bring her, but I sure as hell would’ve bought that girl whatever she wanted. When she needed a ride to the airport, you know who did it? Me. When she needed her mice problem taken care of, you know who took care of it? I did. And when her grandmother suddenly passed, you know who spent the late hours on the phone with her despite having work early the next morning. ME. Not Daniel. He did nothing for her. He was a nuisance. He was the kind of guy who went out as he pleased but would interrogate Julia the one night she’d actually have plans. The kind of guy who begrudgingly let her pick the movie once in a while only to fall asleep sprawled on the couch, leaving her pinched and drowned by the sounds of his snoring. You’d know it the moment you saw him. Seriously. He just looked like a tool. You know what I mean? You can always tell. I promise, whatever you’re imagining him looking like, you’re right. He looked exactly like that.

Maybe I’m biased.

Daniel’s accident was on the Fourth of July, just last summer. Figures. Even in death, he had to go and ruin one of the best times of the year. I remember Julia’s hysterical phone call, pulling me from my uncle’s barbecue and dragging me to her place, where I sat uncomfortably while she cried in my lap on the couch we’d had sex on. Daniel was staring at me from across the room in a little picture frame on the table, watching as I consoled his girlfriend. A small necklace of his ashes sat draped over the top of it.

After the funeral, Julia and I didn’t speak. I worried that we were finished. My heart skipped a beat when her name finally appeared on my phone the following week. Not that I expected much, I figured it would be a slow restart. And that was okay. I grew to really care for her. I was willing to be patient if that was what she needed.

Our clothes were off within the hour.

Things continued moving forward, faster than I’d realized. It felt like one night I was sleeping over, and the next I was living there. We bought furniture (a new bed seemed appropriate), split bills, and even talked about adopting a puppy someday. It was surreal. The very thing I would daydream about was now my reality. Before, I could only text Julia through the night, talking about this life I wished we could have, only for her to wish me goodnight and join her boyfriend in bed. It killed me. Now his photos were stashed in drawers, and Julia was lying next to me.

It wasn’t perfect. There was still the gut-wrenching thought of what everyone else would say. Her parents, her friends—many of whom were his friends. In a way, we were in the same position we’d always been in, hiding our love. It bothered me, but I did it for her. I understood the sensitivity of the situation, I’m not an asshole. She still needed time. I knew I was much too eager to make our relationship known. I just wanted us to be real, you know? I wanted to hold hands in public. I wanted to be forced to go apple-picking. I wanted to post pictures online showing everyone how happy we were. I expressed this to her as kindly as I could, but my emotions got the better of me.

“Is it me?” I’d blurted.

She frowned. “No!” She then went into all the cliches about how amazing I am and how any girl would be proud to call me theirs. It was her usual fix, but a temporary one, as the issue would only fester inside of me. I’d hoped it would simply work itself out. How long could she really keep me a secret? How many more times was she going to make me park my car down the road? How long until an unexpected visitor arrived?

Her best friends were no less frustrated. They’d been wanting to come over for a while, still worried about their dear grieving friend. Julia was running out of excuses, and signs of my existence were scattered around the house. But her friends rallied together and practically forced themselves over. I could see the stress on Julia’s face. I wouldn’t tell her, but I was glad. This was it. This would validate us, and everything would be great. How often I’d wondered what their faces would look like when she told them. Maybe a secret nod of approval when they thought I wasn’t looking. Or whispers of praise when I left the room. He’s so sweet, her most judgmental friend would say. She’d hated Daniel, they all did. They’d always begged her to leave him. This would go very well, I thought.

Then Julia introduced me as her “friend from work” and I was crushed. I sat slumped at the end of the table most of the night, silently sipping on my drink while the girls laughed and enjoyed themselves. Fucking Daniel, that fucking asshole. If only I’d met her first. He’d ruined her, the poor thing. She was afraid to open up! Julia endured the awkwardness I was creating, as well as the subtle questions from her friends while they silently speculated on our relationship. Oh, how badly I wanted to tell them. To blow the whole thing up and cause a scene. It was infuriating. This went nothing like I’d imagined it would. I was supposed to be a breath of fresh air compared to what she’d had. Now I just came off as a standoffish prick, insensitive to Julia’s recovery. Give me a break. Imagine if they’d known we’d been sleeping together months before Daniel died?

Julia made me leave before her girlfriends. Wouldn’t even hug me goodbye. I spent the night in the tiny apartment I was still stuck paying for. When she asked me to come over the next day, we fought. A back-and-forth yelling match. I explained to her how painful this was. How I felt used and unwanted. She apologized with the same assurances she’d been feeding me for weeks. I cooled off. This was, after all, a very unique situation. I, too, apologized for putting this kind of pressure on her. That night, we had ice cream and watched a movie. She let me keep my car in the driveway.

Despite my optimism, things got worse. Julia’s moods began to fluctuate. We were less intimate. She was pouring more wine in her glass than usual, and taking these mystery pills before bed. The fears that I thought I had drowned had resurfaced. This thought—this sharp, cancerous little thought—was gnawing at my brain: Julia is only with me because her boyfriend died. All I could think about was how if he’d hit one more red light, he’d be the one next to her, and I’d still be in my shit-hole apartment, waiting for her to text me back. This cancer spread and suddenly I was seeing her displeasure in everything we did, looking for even the smallest sign of regret in every smile. Yes, it occurred to me that maybe I was causing my own problem. That maybe these fights were my fault. But I swore there was something in her eyes that said otherwise.

I was proven right the first time I heard her talking to him. I woke in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. There was a soft whisper coming from the spare bedroom at the end of the hall, which at the moment was just carpet and dressers. I inched silently down the hall and paused when I saw her through the crack of the door. She was bent down on her knees, her entire front pressed down upon the floor, her arms outstretched, a photo of Daniel sitting between them. Her whispers turned to fervent mantra. When she noticed me, she shot up and sprung towards the door, the photo hidden behind her small frame.

“Hi babe,” she grinned. “Sorry. Can’t sleep. Figured I’d meditate.”

I glanced over her shoulder but could only see the flicker of the flame. “Oh, okay.”

She kissed me goodnight but remained clung to the doorframe, watching as I sauntered back to bed, miserable. I wished I hadn’t seen anything.

I never spoke of it. I kept it all inside and it kept me up at night. I was afraid that she’d do it again. That she’d done it before! Every time Julia moved in her sleep, I sprung alert like a cat. Though I never did catch her. I suspected she was waiting until I was gone at work. So I came home early one night. Slipped through the back door like the good old days, only this time my heart raced at a different tempo. Horrified, I found Julia upstairs, sprawled on the same floor, almost naked, bowing down to a lit candle, with blood on her lip like she’d bitten it hard. I didn’t see the picture this time, just her clothes in a pile beside her. She jolted upright and looked straight into my eyes, her mouth agape, breathing heavily, like a rabid animal. I was frozen, and for a moment I thought she was going to attack me. She simply wiped the blood and shone that smile of hers, the white of her teeth a disturbing contrast to the red on her lips.

“I bent down too fast,” she explained with a chuckle and soft touch of her lip.

I tried to stay calm. “So this is your thing now, huh? Meditating?”

She shrugged and said, “You know, it helps. It really does.”

“Looks like it.”

We were stuck in momentary silence.

“I’ll finish up and start dinner, yeah?” she said as she grabbed my hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. I let it lie limp in her grasp, like a broken toy. She kissed me on the cheek and said she’d meet me downstairs. I stood at the top of the steps and watched her blow out the candle before heading for our bedroom.

“Your clothes,” I called out to her. She turned back, confused. I waved a hand towards the spare bedroom. “You forgot your clothes.”

She smiled again, this time without teeth. “Thank you.” She returned to the room and, with one last happy glance my way, stepped into our bedroom with the clothes now under her arm, shutting the door behind her with a thud. I stared at the door as its echo rung out. Those weren’t her clothes. They were Daniel’s.

The next morning was as normal as ever. This irritated me. She sat at the kitchen table eating toast, scrolling through her phone, legs crossed, with a sharp glance my way as I entered the room. I could feel her eyes on me, like she was waiting for something. I gave her my best “good morning”, but it rang hollow. She offered to make coffee, to which I denied, only to have her hand me a cup anyway. I couldn’t even look her in the eye as she handed me the mug—this black Metallica mug that I was certain was Daniel’s. I begrudgingly took a few sips and dumped the rest. It tasted like shit anyway.

All I could think about that day was that crazed look on Julia’s face from the night before. It made my stomach churn and distracted me from work, the day passing in a mindless blur. I’d been afraid to go home, and of what I may walk in on this time. I drove around for a while. Took unfamiliar back roads as the sun fell below the horizon, unbothered by the possibility of getting lost. Even considered running way. But something willed me home, whether I realized it or not. I parked in my usual spot down the street under a tree and walked cautiously toward the house. Most of the lights were out. Just a faint glow coming from one of the second floor windows. The front door closed behind me with a creak that I’d never noticed until then. There was music coming from upstairs, soft and orchestral. I set my bag down and followed the piano’s high runs up the stairs. My stomach dropped when I rounded the corner, fearing something unpleasant. But the spare bedroom door was closed, and Julia was sitting in our bed, reading.

“Jesus!” she gasped with a mouth full of granola bar. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Julia sat up. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just seeing what you were up to.” I noticed the hand hidden behind her book was bandaged. “What happened there?”

She flashed a smile as fake as mine. “It slipped while I was cutting vegetables. It’s fine. Are you coming to bed?”

I couldn’t tell if she wanted me to or not. Something was crawling inside my skull. “Not yet.” I playfully squeezed her foot at the end of the bed before heading for the door. She stopped me.

“Hey. Come over here.”

She tossed the book on the desk beside her and pulled the covers down, revealing the light nightgown she’d been wearing. She was giving me the eyes but all I could think about was how this gown, though tiny and sheer, was more than she’d been wearing the previous night as she prayed before a photo of her ex-boyfriend. Though I didn’t want to, I gave in to her, hoping that at the very least this meant she had dealt with whatever she needed to, and that we’d never, ever, speak of it. But the love-making did nothing to allay my fears. It felt like a chore, like something we did because we had to. To be so distant during something so intimate, it ripped the soul right out of me. I tried to look at her but her eyes were closed. I so desperately wanted to see what was in them. And in the heat of such raw emotion, she finally opened them, gazing straight into mine, exposing this deep longing she’d been hiding and releasing it powerfully into the air in a hot exhale that brushed against my face. It was like she was hoping to see something else, but saw me instead. A wave of red came over me. I picked her up and threw her against the headboard, continuing to give myself to her. She embraced it, grunting and scratching more aggressively than I’d ever experienced with her. I struggled to keep up with her, when she suddenly pulled my face down towards hers and bit my lip so hard that it bled. I cried out and jumped back, repeatedly tapping a finger against the wound to check the blood. Julia apologized through her panting, catching her breath and reaching for the dresser for a tissue, dabbing it gently against my mouth.

“It’s fine,” I snapped. “I got it.” I brushed her off and stepped over to the mirror to take a closer look. It wasn’t that bad. I swished my tongue around the bump and tried not to let Julia see how angry I was with her. When I glanced at her in the mirror, she smiled and crawled towards the foot of the bed, hopping up to wrap her arms around me. She apologized again, and I assured her it was okay. I kissed her arm and told her I was going to take a shower. I said nothing about the bloody tissue I saw her tuck under her pillow.

I took my time in the shower, completely unaffected by the cold water. My body was already numb. I stood there idly trying to process what the hell had just happened, letting my tongue continue to play around with the slight bump of my lip as I fought certain thoughts from coming to the forefront of my mind. When I finally got out, I found Julia already fast asleep in bed. I slid in beside her and closed my eyes. There was a peculiar smell lingering in the air that I couldn’t quite place, slowly depleting as I tossed and turned all night. I watched headlights race along the windowsill and disappear out of sight. I wanted to follow them, to clear my mind of this, if only for a little while. So I crawled out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water, tip toeing along the cold, smooth tiles of the kitchen floor. I stood inside one for a bit, letting the blue cast of the night light embrace me, and with it, the thought I’d been rejecting: I had to leave her. I decided that tomorrow I would wake up in this house for the last time.

The early morning hours crept quick. I thought about giving sleep another try and got as far as the upstairs landing when my curiosity halted me. With a quick check toward my room, where Julia lay lost in her dreams, I approached the spare bedroom and turned the knob as quietly as I could, pulling the door open slowly until the creaking got too loud. I poked my head inside and saw the candle, flameless, in the center of the room, sitting harmlessly on top of a blue yoga mat. She was really going to push this meditation story wasn’t she, I scoffed. I searched for the light switch and gave life to the room, cowering from its brightness. When my eyes adjusted, they saw nothing but the mat and the candle. The walls, bare as usual, the carpet clean, the dressers empty. I turned the light off, ready to move on. I was leaving tomorrow anyway, what did this matter? But I couldn’t move. Something didn’t feel right. I felt like a madman, as though Julia’s own madness had infected me.

I turned the light back on and squeezed inside the room, picking the candle up and holding it close to my face. “Coastal Waters”, it was called. There didn’t appear to be anything special about it. But when I sniffed it, I winced as though the candle had expired. It’s usual fresh laundry smell had been tarnished. Then I noticed something had been burned inside of it, bits of charred remnants left to melt into the wax. I now knew why Julia might have kept that bloody tissue.

Disturbed, I let the candle drop onto the carpet, watching it tumble back onto the mat, where I’d then noticed a dark stain on the edge. I lifted it up and saw more underneath, tossing it completely aside and discovering the true reason for its placement there: encircling where the candle would have been was some symbol stained into the carpet, in blood. In the circle were two photos—the one of Daniel I had previously seen, and another, of myself.

I dropped mindlessly back into bed, staring at the ceiling as the sky began to lighten. There was a ringing in my ear. Shadows danced along the walls. Julia rolled over and made a noise before returning to deep sleep, her hand brushing against mine and grabbing it on instinct. I could feel the scar from where she’d cut herself. It made something inside me pop.

I was the one waiting in the kitchen the following morning. The ringing in my head had grown louder, and I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten there. I didn’t feel like me anymore. My movement was robotic, my arms, tingly, and there was a peculiar weight building in my chest. I made myself a cup of coffee and left a cup on the table for Julia. It must have gotten cold, as I had been standing there for a while, staring out the glass sliding-door into the yard where two birds sat perched upon a branch, staring at me. I stared back. I must have fallen asleep with my eyes open, because the yard was starting to transform. The tree on which the birds sat began growing before my eyes, far up into the sky. The birds zoomed off at an impossible speed, like the flowers below, growing taller and taller, faster and faster. One of the birds was suddenly fluttering before me. It said, “Wake me up. Wake me up.”

A sudden noise brought me back, and I turned to find Julia watching me from behind the marble-top island where her cold coffee awaited. She was breathing slowly, nervously.

“Did it work?” she muttered.

“Hi Jules,” I said. My voice sounded different.

Julia’s eyes widened, her hand still clutching the marble countertop, bracing. Unsure. She was studying me. Our eyes locked. We were immobile, and alone, accompanied only by the white noise of the refrigerator’s hum.

“Daniel?” she uttered.

My face scrunched into a smile and nodded. “It’s me.”

Julia broke into a run and nearly tackled me to the floor in a jumping embrace. She began kissing me all over, her happy tears rubbing against my neck and face.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered as she pressed herself into my chest where I held her tight. We rocked gently back and forth.

“I know... It’s okay...” I rubbed her back as she continued to cry.

“Don’t leave me again,” she sobbed repeatedly. “Don’t leave me… don’t leave me…” Her hands were moving up and down my back. We were dancing. I hushed her and assured her I would always be with her. I then grabbed her shoulders and pealed her off of me. “But I can’t stay, Jules...”

She rejected this, stuttering as she spoke. “What do you mean? I did everything they told me to do! The candle, the pictures, the sex, the blood. It’s supposed to be you now! It’s supposed to—”

“It’s not enough.”

She huffed. “Well then what do I do! Tell me what to do, Daniel, and I’ll do it!”

The ringing in my ears was becoming increasingly disorienting. I let go of her shoulders and looked at her sadly. “You could come with me.”

She cocked her head. “Come with you where, baby?”

I said nothing. And then she figured it out. She shook her head in protest, groaning in displeasure.

“Shh, shh.” I grabbed her face in my hands. “It’s so much better there. I promise. Better than people know. Please, babe. Trust me.”

Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair unkempt, her clothes dirty. She looked terrible.

“Why can’t you just stay?” she whined.

“I can already feel myself fading. I’ll probably be gone again soon.”

“No! No, no, no.” She grabbed hold of me again. I held the back of her head into my chest once more. She was hysterical.

“Come with me, Jules,” I whispered.

“How?” she mustered through her sobs. She was shaking.

I took her by the hand and walked her to the island.

“I made this for you,” I said, sliding the mug closer to her. It was that same black Metallica one. “If you drink it, we can be together again.”

She was looking at it hesitantly, debating in her mind, her eyes darting frantically along the floor below, searching for answers. Words were trying to form on her lips but they failed her. I picked up the mug and held it in front of me. “One of my favorite gifts from you.”

Julia wiped her nose with her sleeve and shook her head. “Your mother got you that.”

I huffed a laugh to myself. “Right. Guess I never really paid attention to any of that stuff, huh?”

She playfully rolled her eyes—what a silly man her Daniel was! But as reality hit, she was overcome with grief once more. She took my hand and kissed me, a long, sloppy, kiss. We broke for a moment, and returned more passionately than ever. I’d almost dropped the mug but managed to place it down just before she pushed me against the kitchen counter, nearly straddling me. It was amazing. It was real—far more real than the night before. I thought things were going to progress even further, when she suddenly let go and grabbed the mug, chugging down several large gulps before nearly gagging over the taste. She froze and looked at me like a child realizing they’d done something wrong. Her breathing picked up. She was scared. She reached out for me, and for a split second I considered rejecting her. But I let her back into me. She was exhaling this quiet bit of emotion, like a dog whimpering. I could feel the heat of it through my shirt. We stood like this for a few moments, in total silence, the refrigerator still humming to us.

“It was always you,” she whispered.

I suddenly released from our embrace to look at her, our hands still connected. “It was never me.”

She blinked. “Daniel?”

Then I felt her start to shake, so I let go. She collapsed to the floor and started to convulse, the coffee mug and its contents scattered all across the floor. She tried to cry for help but she was choking on the white foam pouring out of her, her eyes wide, scared, confused, betrayed. I stopped watching. After a few moments, it was over.

I called the cops shortly afterward and told them I woke up and found her this way. There were phone calls, rolls of caution tape, and a search of the premises. They found all these pills Julia had been taking, beside rat poison and alcohol. And there was blood on the carpet of the spare room. They had some questions about that, of course, but I told them I had no idea what it was. How she’d been in there an awful lot lately. That she claimed to have cut her hand preparing dinner. Boy was I shocked when they told me what she’d really done! Oh, it was a such long night.

But I finally got to meet Julia’s family. They seemed nice. I was with them actually, when the police broke the news of Julia’s death. An apparent suicide, they said, likely over the grief of having lost her former lover, whose picture they found by a candle in the room at the end of the hall. Aghast, I strongly disagreed. As I explained at the funeral, Julia and I had been so truly happy. For months! Her poor family. They just stared at me in complete bewilderment.

Needless to say, everyone knows about us now.

submitted by /u/Jcote12 [link] [comments]

[mickwritesfics]

Never Was An Ordinary Life Chap. 6 - Shopping with Three Men

Summary:  Rose was transported to a new realm which leads her to the biggest adventure of her life. It also leads her to find out who she really is while meeting her heroes that she never imagined being able to meet.

Pairing: to be determined x oc

Word Count: 3403

Warnings throughout book: angst, humor, heartbreak, eventual smut, rape (not in detail), fluff, violence, language, crossover universe

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

I stepped out of the bathroom to see the boys dressed and Cas no where to be found in the musky smelling room.

"Where's Cassie?", I asked as I walked up to the boys and handed them their piece of clothing.

"I had him start the car.", Dean said as he put his shirt in his duffle and picked it up.

"Oh.", I said with a small nod. Sam grabbed his own bag and walked out the door followed by Dean. I followed them out and closed the door. I turned around to see Baby in all her glory. "She's so much more beautiful in person.", I said softly as I let my finger tips run across her hood gently.

"I try to make sure she's always in top condition.", Dean said with a smile on his face as he looked at the 1967 Chevy Impala.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss my Baby at home. I have a 1964 Chevy truck. It was my dream to have it and fix it.", I said sadly remembering that I'd no longer be able to drive it when I couldn't sleep.

"Maybe you could find one here.", Sam said as he smiled slightly before he got in the passenger seat.

I smiled at the thought of having my own truck and working on it. "Yeah, but what's the use when we could just use Baby. Save money and stick together.", Dean's voice broke through my dream and I sighed sadly.

Dean was right in a way. What would be the point in getting one if I'd be with them all the time? I shrugged it off and made my way to the back door of the Impala where Cas was standing. "Are you ready, Rose?", he asked furrowing his eyebrows. I simply nodded and climbed in the open door. I slid over and Cas climbed in too. I looked around the inside of the Impala as Dean began to drive to the mall. I smiled when I ran my hands over the seat knowing this will be my life now. Driving to kill monsters and save people.

My smile grew more at the thought of being able to save people. Yes, it will be hard but the fact that I could save someone is worth it.

I looked out my window and watched the houses go by. I heard music start to play and smiled when I realized it was Metallica. I hummed quietly to the song as I continued to watch houses disappear behind us. Then I saw the mall come into view. It was a huge building that looked almost circular with a few parts going out. It looked like one from home, but it seemed bigger.

"Wow...", I whispered as I continued to stare at it in awe as we got closer. A few minutes later Dean parked the car and we all climbed out. I had to crane my neck back to see the top of the mall.

"Okay, this is a big place so stay close to us Rose.", Dean said as the three of them walked over to me. I nodded not really paying attention because I was still awestruck.

Once we went inside I felt cold as the temperature was low to keep people moving. I looked around and couldn't believe how many people were in here. I saw we were in the food court and to my right was where all the shops were. I smiled and quickly tried to make my way through the large crowd of people everywhere.

"Rose! Rose!", I heard Dean yell my name, but I was too excited to care as I began to duck and weave my way past people.

Being short comes in handy now at least...

I smiled to myself as I came to the first shop. It had shoes and only shoes though they were just running shoes or sport shoes. I made my way to the shop next to it and found a hat shop. I walked in and looked around to see what they had. I sighed when I couldn't find anything I liked and left the store.

The next shop was more promising as it held cellphones. I was going to need one sooner or later. I walked in the shop and quickly found a phone that would work for me. I looked back to see if the guys would get it for me, but remembered I ran away from them.

Shit... wait Cas is with them...

I walked into a secluded corner of the store and began to pray.

Hi Cassie.. I'm sorry I ran from you guys. I'm in the cellphone shop on the right. It's the third shop.

I went to the front of the shop to wait for them. Hoping I'd catch a glimpse of them through the crowd. I sighed after a few minutes of not being able to see them and turned to go back and pray again. A hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around quickly. "Don't you ever do that again!", Dean said in a strained voice trying to hold back his anger.

I flinched at his tone and felt myself curl in and want to close myself off. Dean's hands were removed from my shoulders and I looked up to see Cas standing in front of me now. He hugged me gently and I felt myself relax quickly into him.

He let me go a minute later and I turned to face Dean. "I'm sorry.. I haven't been to a mall in years. I won't run off again.", I said as I looked him in the eye trying to get him to know I was being sincere.

"Just don't run off like that again.", he said and patted my shoulder. I smiled a little and held out the phone to Dean.

"Could I have this? Since I'll need a phone in case we get separated.", I asked Dean as I showed him the small touch screen that was made two years ago.

"How about this one.", Dean said as he pulled out a newer phone that looked more like his. I nodded not willing to fight over how it'd be expensive.

Dean went to get an SD chip as well and bought it. He made sure it was activated and then put Sam's, Cas, and his number in it. "We will put more contacts in later. For now these will work.", Dean said as he handed me the phone.

I smiled at my phone. I had one almost exactly like it in my universe. I turned on the wifi to see if the mall had open wifi and was glad to see it did. I began to quickly download music and a few apps to keep me occupied during long drives.

I put it in my pocket as it downloaded everything and made my way out of the shop with Dean and Cas trailing behind me. I looked around to see if I could spot a clothes shop and was happy to see two next to each other. A band merchandise store and a regular clothes store and necessities. I smiled as I walked in the regular one first.

I smiled at the cashier as I made my way to the undergarment section. My eyes widened as I saw all the lace and see through material. "Woah.", Dean said causing me to jump in shock.

"I... uh.. Maybe you both should go sit in the chairs by the changing rooms.", I said as I looked at Dean's face to see him getting uncomfortable. I looked at Cas to see he seemed fine besides his head tilting indicating he was confused.

"Why do you wish for us to sit? We are supposed to assist you while Sam is getting something.", Cas said only for him to be elbowed by Dean when he mentioned Sam. I raised my eyebrow, but shrugged it off.

If they wanted me to know they'd tell me.

I sighed and nodded. "Well then, Dean, you can go sit. Cassie can help me.", I said as I gestured to the items behind me. Dean gave a curt nod and scurried to the changing area.

I shook my head and turned back around to look at the different ones. I bit my lip in worry that I wouldn't find my size. I dove into the garments and found blue, white, black, red, peach, plaid, and purple matching undergarments. Unfortunately, for me, they were all lace. I don't mind lace at all, but it made me nervous because Castiel was with me and had to help get a few too high for me to reach. What made it worse was that Cas insisted he carry them while I went to look for what else I needed.

I found some hair accessories that I would need and grabbed three packs of hair ties and three hairbruses. My hair likes to break both objects a lot, so I like to make sure I have plenty. I grabbed a straightener for when I wanted to actually look nice. I smiled sadly as I realized I probably wouldn't use it a lot. Cas grabbed the items out of my hands as soon as I grabbed just one thing. I grabbed two bottles of shampoo and conditioner then found my favorite body wash I had in my universe... Japanese Cherry blossoms. I always loved the smell.

I sighed as I realized I'd have to find birth control pills, toothbrush, and deodorant. I quickly walked to the little aisle that had them and handed them to Cas. I was glad it only seemed to be us in the store. "Cas why don't you go drop all that off with Dean I'm going to have more stuff I'll need help carrying.", I said as I made my way to the clothes section finally.

I sighed as I looked at the shirts for the women. It was like they expected all women to be stick skinny.

Men's section for shirts again... Maybe one of the boys will let me use their shirts...

I smiled slightly at the thought. I shook my head at the shirts and made my way to the pants and shorts they had. I smiled when I saw they had a decent selection of jeans and shorts. I grabbed a few blue jeans and turned to make my way to the changing room only to run into Cas. "Jeez Cassie! You scared me.", I said as I let out my breath as I walked around him to the changing area.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to.", Cas said as he followed behind me. He was starting to remind me of a puppy following his owner and I couldn't help but find it kind of cute.

I reached the little area to see Dean sitting next to a chair holding all of my items I was going to buy. Dean was touching the fabric of my undergarments in what seemed to be a curious manner. "Uh, Dean.. what are you doing?", I asked causing him to quickly pull his fingers away from the fabric.

"Nothing. Did you find some clothes?", Dean asked and stood looking ready to leave.

"Hold on cowboy. I need to try these on first.", I said before Dean could take a step. He groaned and I smiled as I went into a changing room and began to strip out of the sweatpants I was in. I pulled on my first pair of jeans and smiled when I saw the way they looked on me.

This universe makes me look smoking in clothes...

I laughed to myself and pulled them off then tried on the rest. When I was satisfied that they all fit I went back out to see Dean twiddling his thumbs and Cas sanding waiting patiently.

"Well they fit. I just need shirts now and they don't seem to have any here that will fit my.. uh.. well.", I trailed off and motioned to my chest.

"Well then let's go see if we can fix that problem.", Dean said as he grabbed everything from the chair holding my items except my undergarments. "You can carry those Cas."

Cas nodded in reply and grabbed them. As we made our way up to the cashier I thought she was going to drown in her drool. I bit my lip to hold back my laugh because I knew what it was like to drool over these guys.

Oh sister if only you knew....

We set our items on the table and waited patiently, well Cas and I did, as she rang up and bagged the items. She must have realized all of the items were for women because suddenly she glared at me. Cas seemed to notice as he put an arm around me to pull me into his side in case he had to push me behind him.

"Is that all today?", she asked in a flirty voice to Dean as she batted her eyelashes at him. She had blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She had a very sweet face and looked innocent until you looked at her clothes that seemed to struggle to stay on her. Her clothes were so tight it looked like the clothes would pop off her any minute.

"Yeah.", Dean said having paid her no mind as he looked questioningly at why Cas had his arm around me. I simply shrugged at his silent questioning of the action.

The cashier, whom had a name tag with the name Vivian, scuffed and glared at Dean as she quickly bagged the items. "That'll be $175.", she spit out as she continued to glare. Dean paid and we left the store. I made my way to the band merchandise store and ran to the shirt section. I smiled as I saw all the people in the shop buying their favorite band's stuff. I always loved how music brought people together.

I found some shirts my size from a few of my favorite bands and had Dean pay for them. I didn't have to try these on as I knew these would fit. I looked across the hall to see a dress shop. I looked back at the guys to see them busy, so I quickly dodged the crowd of people and went into the shop.

I didn't really care if the guys knew I was in here, but I knew Dean wouldn't step foot in a girly shop like this one. A shop with dresses everywhere and makeup. I went to a rack that held my size and smiled as I saw a few dresses that caught my eye. I grabbed two long ones, two causal, one fancy, one skimpy, and one business for when I would be in FBI mode. I took them to the changing area and was shocked to see Cas and Dean sitting there waiting patiently with all the other bags. I bit my lip as I nodded to them in acknowledgement.

They nodded back while Dean looked skeptical at my dresses. I shrugged and went into the changing room and decided to get their opinions on the dresses. I tried on the grey business dress first to find it fit perfectly. I smiled happy with my pick and took a deep breath before I stepped out to show the guys. I was looking down as I stepped out and when I looked up I was shocked to see Sam standing with them.

I blushed as suddenly all three men were staring at me. They didn't say anything at first so I cleared my throat and motioned to my dress. "So? What do you think?"

"It's.. form fitting.", Dean said as he swallowed. Sam nodded with Dean.

"Yeah, I figured that would help with cases. Play up the cute fed image.", I said while running my hands down the front to smooth out any wrinkles.

"That will come in handy.", Sam said approvingly. I looked over to Dean only to see his jaw clench.

I wonder what that's about...

I go back into the changing room and try on my blue and white casual dresses and got approval for both. The rest got approval and then I only had the skimpy dress left. When I got the lace black mid-thigh skimpy dress that showed my cleavage on I became extremely nervous. This one would strictly be for getting information. I began to wonder how the boys would react to it.

Probably just nod and then have you change so you can all leave...

I blew out a breath and walked out. "That better be the last one Rose. Bobby is expecting us by tomorrow morning.", Dean said as he stared down at his phone. I bit my lip as I saw Sam's reaction. It looked like his jaw was having a hard time staying in place.

"This is the last one.", I almost whispered as I ran my tongue over my lip to wet it.

"Great, get changed let's go.", Dean's said in a hurry. He still hasn't seen the dress. Sam suddenly hit Dean on the head. "Dude what the hell!", Dean snapped at Sam as he held his head and glared at his brother. Sam motioned his head towards me causing Dean to look at me. "Holy..", Dean swallowed and looked me up and down.

"I figured I could use this to get information...", I trailed off as I looked over at Cas who nodded approvingly.

"Good idea. We will get them all.", Cas said and stood to move me back to the changing room I came out of. I went in and changed into the sweats and shirt again. I could hear Sam and Dean arguing through the door. I sighed and grabbed my dresses and made my way to them again.

"I'm going to grab some shoes to go with these from the store next door.", I told them as I hurried to get away from whatever they were arguing about. I made it into the shoe shop and grabbed two flats, two high heels, and one pair of boots like the boys had.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and quickly spun around only to come face to face with the man from the restaurant. My eyes widened and I scurried away. I made it to the cashier where I knew he couldn't do anything. I lost sight of him when I hurried away. "Rose. Why did you run from me just now?", Dean asked as he grabbed my shoes and paid for them.

I stared at him in shock. It was him who grabbed me? Not the guy? Thank goodness for that. I bit my lip as I tried to come up with a lie. "Just want to get going. Plus with all this walking I'm getting hungry.", I said as I patted my stomach. Dean smiled and shook his head and grabbed the bag.

"Well then we should fix that.", Dean said as we walked out of the store to meet up with Sam and Cas. "We're picking up food at the court then leaving."

Sam and Cas nodded as they carried my bags for me. "Let me grab the food since you guys are carrying the bags.", I said as I ran in front of them to stop them. Dean nodded and gave me his wallet. I quickly ran to a burger shop and got Dean and I hamburgers and Sam a salad.

I waited for my order to be done when I saw the man again. I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it. I opened my eyes again and he was gone. I sighed and rubbed my temple to relieve the pain there. "Order 34.", the cashier said holding up two bags. I grabbed them and quickly went back to the boys.

"Okay let's go.", I said as I made my way to the exit with the boys behind me. I let out a relieved breath when we got into the Impala and were pulling away from the mall. I looked back at the doors we came out of only to see the man of my nightmares standing there waving happily to me. I closed and opened my eyes.

Only this time he didn't go away...

[mickwritesficsfr]

Never Was An Ordinary Life Chap. 6 - Shopping with Three Men

Summary: Rose was transported to a new realm which leads her to the biggest adventure of her life. It also leads her to find out who she really is while meeting her heroes. 

Pairing: to be determined

Word Count: 3403

Warnings through whole book: angst, humor, heartbreak, eventual smut, rape in a scene (not in detail), fluff, crossovers later on.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

I stepped out of the bathroom to see the boys dressed and Cas no where to be found in the musky smelling room.

"Where's Cassie?", I asked as I walked up to the boys and handed them their piece of clothing.

"I had him start the car.", Dean said as he put his shirt in his duffle and picked it up.

"Oh.", I said with a small nod. Sam grabbed his own bag and walked out the door followed by Dean. I followed them out and closed the door. I turned around to see Baby in all her glory. "She's so much more beautiful in person.", I said softly as I let my finger tips run across her hood gently.

"I try to make sure she's always in top condition.", Dean said with a smile on his face as he looked at the 1967 Chevy Impala.

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss my Baby at home. I have a 1964 Chevy truck. It was my dream to have it and fix it.", I said sadly remembering that I'd no longer be able to drive it when I couldn't sleep.

"Maybe you could find one here.", Sam said as he smiled slightly before he got in the passenger seat.

I smiled at the thought of having my own truck and working on it. "Yeah, but what's the use when we could just use Baby. Save money and stick together.", Dean's voice broke through my dream and I sighed sadly.

Dean was right in a way. What would be the point in getting one if I'd be with them all the time? I shrugged it off and made my way to the back door of the Impala where Cas was standing. "Are you ready, Rose?", he asked furrowing his eyebrows. I simply nodded and climbed in the open door. I slid over and Cas climbed in too. I looked around the inside of the Impala as Dean began to drive to the mall. I smiled when I ran my hands over the seat knowing this will be my life now. Driving to kill monsters and save people.

My smile grew more at the thought of being able to save people. Yes, it will be hard but the fact that I could save someone is worth it.

I looked out my window and watched the houses go by. I heard music start to play and smiled when I realized it was Metallica. I hummed quietly to the song as I continued to watch houses disappear behind us. Then I saw the mall come into view. It was a huge building that looked almost circular with a few parts going out. It looked like one from home, but it seemed bigger.

"Wow...", I whispered as I continued to stare at it in awe as we got closer. A few minutes later Dean parked the car and we all climbed out. I had to crane my neck back to see the top of the mall.

"Okay, this is a big place so stay close to us Rose.", Dean said as the three of them walked over to me. I nodded not really paying attention because I was still awestruck.

Once we went inside I felt cold as the temperature was low to keep people moving. I looked around and couldn't believe how many people were in here. I saw we were in the food court and to my right was where all the shops were. I smiled and quickly tried to make my way through the large crowd of people everywhere.

"Rose! Rose!", I heard Dean yell my name, but I was too excited to care as I began to duck and weave my way past people.

Being short comes in handy now at least...

I smiled to myself as I came to the first shop. It had shoes and only shoes though they were just running shoes or sport shoes. I made my way to the shop next to it and found a hat shop. I walked in and looked around to see what they had. I sighed when I couldn't find anything I liked and left the store.

The next shop was more promising as it held cellphones. I was going to need one sooner or later. I walked in the shop and quickly found a phone that would work for me. I looked back to see if the guys would get it for me, but remembered I ran away from them.

Shit... wait Cas is with them...

I walked into a secluded corner of the store and began to pray.

Hi Cassie.. I'm sorry I ran from you guys. I'm in the cellphone shop on the right. It's the third shop.

I went to the front of the shop to wait for them. Hoping I'd catch a glimpse of them through the crowd. I sighed after a few minutes of not being able to see them and turned to go back and pray again. A hand gripped my shoulder and spun me around quickly. "Don't you ever do that again!", Dean said in a strained voice trying to hold back his anger.

I flinched at his tone and felt myself curl in and want to close myself off. Dean's hands were removed from my shoulders and I looked up to see Cas standing in front of me now. He hugged me gently and I felt myself relax quickly into him.

He let me go a minute later and I turned to face Dean. "I'm sorry.. I haven't been to a mall in years. I won't run off again.", I said as I looked him in the eye trying to get him to know I was being sincere.

"Just don't run off like that again.", he said and patted my shoulder. I smiled a little and held out the phone to Dean.

"Could I have this? Since I'll need a phone in case we get separated.", I asked Dean as I showed him the small touch screen that was made two years ago.

"How about this one.", Dean said as he pulled out a newer phone that looked more like his. I nodded not willing to fight over how it'd be expensive.

Dean went to get an SD chip as well and bought it. He made sure it was activated and then put Sam's, Cas, and his number in it. "We will put more contacts in later. For now these will work.", Dean said as he handed me the phone.

I smiled at my phone. I had one almost exactly like it in my universe. I turned on the wifi to see if the mall had open wifi and was glad to see it did. I began to quickly download music and a few apps to keep me occupied during long drives.

I put it in my pocket as it downloaded everything and made my way out of the shop with Dean and Cas trailing behind me. I looked around to see if I could spot a clothes shop and was happy to see two next to each other. A band merchandise store and a regular clothes store and necessities. I smiled as I walked in the regular one first.

I smiled at the cashier as I made my way to the undergarment section. My eyes widened as I saw all the lace and see through material. "Woah.", Dean said causing me to jump in shock.

"I... uh.. Maybe you both should go sit in the chairs by the changing rooms.", I said as I looked at Dean's face to see him getting uncomfortable. I looked at Cas to see he seemed fine besides his head tilting indicating he was confused.

"Why do you wish for us to sit? We are supposed to assist you while Sam is getting something.", Cas said only for him to be elbowed by Dean when he mentioned Sam. I raised my eyebrow, but shrugged it off.

If they wanted me to know they'd tell me.

I sighed and nodded. "Well then, Dean, you can go sit. Cassie can help me.", I said as I gestured to the items behind me. Dean gave a curt nod and scurried to the changing area.

I shook my head and turned back around to look at the different ones. I bit my lip in worry that I wouldn't find my size. I dove into the garments and found blue, white, black, red, peach, plaid, and purple matching undergarments. Unfortunately, for me, they were all lace. I don't mind lace at all, but it made me nervous because Castiel was with me and had to help get a few too high for me to reach. What made it worse was that Cas insisted he carry them while I went to look for what else I needed.

I found some hair accessories that I would need and grabbed three packs of hair ties and three hairbruses. My hair likes to break both objects a lot, so I like to make sure I have plenty. I grabbed a straightener for when I wanted to actually look nice. I smiled sadly as I realized I probably wouldn't use it a lot. Cas grabbed the items out of my hands as soon as I grabbed just one thing. I grabbed two bottles of shampoo and conditioner then found my favorite body wash I had in my universe... Japanese Cherry blossoms. I always loved the smell.

I sighed as I realized I'd have to find birth control pills, toothbrush, and deodorant. I quickly walked to the little aisle that had them and handed them to Cas. I was glad it only seemed to be us in the store. "Cas why don't you go drop all that off with Dean I'm going to have more stuff I'll need help carrying.", I said as I made my way to the clothes section finally.

I sighed as I looked at the shirts for the women. It was like they expected all women to be stick skinny.

Men's section for shirts again... Maybe one of the boys will let me use their shirts...

I smiled slightly at the thought. I shook my head at the shirts and made my way to the pants and shorts they had. I smiled when I saw they had a decent selection of jeans and shorts. I grabbed a few blue jeans and turned to make my way to the changing room only to run into Cas. "Jeez Cassie! You scared me.", I said as I let out my breath as I walked around him to the changing area.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to.", Cas said as he followed behind me. He was starting to remind me of a puppy following his owner and I couldn't help but find it kind of cute.

I reached the little area to see Dean sitting next to a chair holding all of my items I was going to buy. Dean was touching the fabric of my undergarments in what seemed to be a curious manner. "Uh, Dean.. what are you doing?", I asked causing him to quickly pull his fingers away from the fabric.

"Nothing. Did you find some clothes?", Dean asked and stood looking ready to leave.

"Hold on cowboy. I need to try these on first.", I said before Dean could take a step. He groaned and I smiled as I went into a changing room and began to strip out of the sweatpants I was in. I pulled on my first pair of jeans and smiled when I saw the way they looked on me.

This universe makes me look smoking in clothes...

I laughed to myself and pulled them off then tried on the rest. When I was satisfied that they all fit I went back out to see Dean twiddling his thumbs and Cas sanding waiting patiently.

"Well they fit. I just need shirts now and they don't seem to have any here that will fit my.. uh.. well.", I trailed off and motioned to my chest.

"Well then let's go see if we can fix that problem.", Dean said as he grabbed everything from the chair holding my items except my undergarments. "You can carry those Cas."

Cas nodded in reply and grabbed them. As we made our way up to the cashier I thought she was going to drown in her drool. I bit my lip to hold back my laugh because I knew what it was like to drool over these guys.

Oh sister if only you knew....

We set our items on the table and waited patiently, well Cas and I did, as she rang up and bagged the items. She must have realized all of the items were for women because suddenly she glared at me. Cas seemed to notice as he put an arm around me to pull me into his side in case he had to push me behind him.

"Is that all today?", she asked in a flirty voice to Dean as she batted her eyelashes at him. She had blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She had a very sweet face and looked innocent until you looked at her clothes that seemed to struggle to stay on her. Her clothes were so tight it looked like the clothes would pop off her any minute.

"Yeah.", Dean said having paid her no mind as he looked questioningly at why Cas had his arm around me. I simply shrugged at his silent questioning of the action.

The cashier, whom had a name tag with the name Vivian, scuffed and glared at Dean as she quickly bagged the items. "That'll be $175.", she spit out as she continued to glare. Dean paid and we left the store. I made my way to the band merchandise store and ran to the shirt section. I smiled as I saw all the people in the shop buying their favorite band's stuff. I always loved how music brought people together.

I found some shirts my size from a few of my favorite bands and had Dean pay for them. I didn't have to try these on as I knew these would fit. I looked across the hall to see a dress shop. I looked back at the guys to see them busy, so I quickly dodged the crowd of people and went into the shop.

I didn't really care if the guys knew I was in here, but I knew Dean wouldn't step foot in a girly shop like this one. A shop with dresses everywhere and makeup. I went to a rack that held my size and smiled as I saw a few dresses that caught my eye. I grabbed two long ones, two causal, one fancy, one skimpy, and one business for when I would be in FBI mode. I took them to the changing area and was shocked to see Cas and Dean sitting there waiting patiently with all the other bags. I bit my lip as I nodded to them in acknowledgement.

They nodded back while Dean looked skeptical at my dresses. I shrugged and went into the changing room and decided to get their opinions on the dresses. I tried on the grey business dress first to find it fit perfectly. I smiled happy with my pick and took a deep breath before I stepped out to show the guys. I was looking down as I stepped out and when I looked up I was shocked to see Sam standing with them.

I blushed as suddenly all three men were staring at me. They didn't say anything at first so I cleared my throat and motioned to my dress. "So? What do you think?"

"It's.. form fitting.", Dean said as he swallowed. Sam nodded with Dean.

"Yeah, I figured that would help with cases. Play up the cute fed image.", I said while running my hands down the front to smooth out any wrinkles.

"That will come in handy.", Sam said approvingly. I looked over to Dean only to see his jaw clench.

I wonder what that's about...

I go back into the changing room and try on my blue and white casual dresses and got approval for both. The rest got approval and then I only had the skimpy dress left. When I got the lace black mid-thigh skimpy dress that showed my cleavage on I became extremely nervous. This one would strictly be for getting information. I began to wonder how the boys would react to it.

Probably just nod and then have you change so you can all leave...

I blew out a breath and walked out. "That better be the last one Rose. Bobby is expecting us by tomorrow morning.", Dean said as he stared down at his phone. I bit my lip as I saw Sam's reaction. It looked like his jaw was having a hard time staying in place.

"This is the last one.", I almost whispered as I ran my tongue over my lip to wet it.

"Great, get changed let's go.", Dean's said in a hurry. He still hasn't seen the dress. Sam suddenly hit Dean on the head. "Dude what the hell!", Dean snapped at Sam as he held his head and glared at his brother. Sam motioned his head towards me causing Dean to look at me. "Holy..", Dean swallowed and looked me up and down.

"I figured I could use this to get information...", I trailed off as I looked over at Cas who nodded approvingly.

"Good idea. We will get them all.", Cas said and stood to move me back to the changing room I came out of. I went in and changed into the sweats and shirt again. I could hear Sam and Dean arguing through the door. I sighed and grabbed my dresses and made my way to them again.

"I'm going to grab some shoes to go with these from the store next door.", I told them as I hurried to get away from whatever they were arguing about. I made it into the shoe shop and grabbed two flats, two high heels, and one pair of boots like the boys had.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and quickly spun around only to come face to face with the man from the restaurant. My eyes widened and I scurried away. I made it to the cashier where I knew he couldn't do anything. I lost sight of him when I hurried away. "Rose. Why did you run from me just now?", Dean asked as he grabbed my shoes and paid for them.

I stared at him in shock. It was him who grabbed me? Not the guy? Thank goodness for that. I bit my lip as I tried to come up with a lie. "Just want to get going. Plus with all this walking I'm getting hungry.", I said as I patted my stomach. Dean smiled and shook his head and grabbed the bag.

"Well then we should fix that.", Dean said as we walked out of the store to meet up with Sam and Cas. "We're picking up food at the court then leaving."

Sam and Cas nodded as they carried my bags for me. "Let me grab the food since you guys are carrying the bags.", I said as I ran in front of them to stop them. Dean nodded and gave me his wallet. I quickly ran to a burger shop and got Dean and I hamburgers and Sam a salad.

I waited for my order to be done when I saw the man again. I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it. I opened my eyes again and he was gone. I sighed and rubbed my temple to relieve the pain there. "Order 34.", the cashier said holding up two bags. I grabbed them and quickly went back to the boys.

"Okay let's go.", I said as I made my way to the exit with the boys behind me. I let out a relieved breath when we got into the Impala and were pulling away from the mall. I looked back at the doors we came out of only to see the man of my nightmares standing there waving happily to me. I closed and opened my eyes.

Only this time he didn't go away...

[creativitytoexplore]

My girlfriend’s boyfriend died and I thought we’d be happy. [HR] [MS] https://ift.tt/34IGrEn

(I wrote this a while back and decided touch it up and post it here. Hope y’all enjoy!)

When Daniel died, I thought, perfect. Now I could finally have the life I wanted, with the girl I wanted, out in the open for everyone to see. Not at first, obviously, that would’ve been wrong. And I’ll admit, I would’ve missed sneaking around with Julia. Though I suppose she was the one sneaking around, wasn’t she? I was just along for the ride. We’d wait for Daniel to go to work and then I’d slip on over. I’d never felt that kind of rush before. It’s the kind of thing I’d only seen in movies, and that was exactly how it felt, as we giggled under the sheets about how bad we were being. “This is fun,” she’d whispered to me one night. The way she said it… I’d replay it in my mind over and over.

You think I’m horrible. I get it. That’s because you don’t know Daniel. The guy was a tool. At dinner, he’d told Julia’s mother that Julia was “all set” as they were considering dessert. Imagine that? My piece of shit job couldn’t afford the places he’d bring her, but I sure as hell would’ve bought that girl whatever she wanted. When she needed a ride to the airport, you know who did it? Me. When she needed her mice problem taken care of, you know who took care of it? I did. And when her grandmother suddenly passed, you know who spent the late hours on the phone with her despite having work early the next morning. ME. Not Daniel. He did nothing for her. He was a nuisance. He was the kind of guy who went out as he pleased but would interrogate Julia the one night she’d actually have plans. The kind of guy who begrudgingly let her pick the movie once in a while only to fall asleep sprawled on the couch, leaving her squeezed and drowned by the sounds of his snoring. You’d immediately understand if you saw him. Seriously, he just looked like a tool. You know what I mean? You can always tell. I promise, whatever you’re imagining him looking like, you’re right. He looked exactly like that.

Maybe I’m biased.

Daniel’s accident was on the Fourth of July, just last summer. Figures. Even in death, he had to go and ruin one of the best times of the year. I remember Julia’s hysterical phone call, pulling me from my uncle’s barbecue and dragging me to her place, where I sat uncomfortably while she cried in my lap on the couch we’d had sex on. Daniel was staring at me from across the room in a little picture frame on the table, watching as I consoled his girlfriend.

After the funeral, Julia and I didn’t speak. I worried it was over. My heart skipped a beat when her name finally appeared on my phone the following week. Not that expected much. I figured it would be a slow restart, and that was okay. I grew to really care for her. I was willing to be patient if that was what she needed.

Our clothes were off within the hour.

Things continued moving forward, faster than I’d realized. It felt like one night I was sleeping over, and the next I was living there. We bought furniture (a new bed seemed appropriate), split bills, and even talked about adopting a puppy someday. It was surreal. The very thing I would daydream about was now my reality. Before, I could only text Julia through the night, talking about this life I wished we could have, only for her to wish me goodnight and join her boyfriend in bed. It killed me. Now his photos were stashed in drawers, and Julia was lying next to me.

It wasn’t perfect. There was still the gut-wrenching thought of what everyone else would say. Her parents, her friends—many of whom were his friends. In a way, we were in the same position we’d always been in, hiding our love. I hated it, but I did it for her. I understood the sensitivity of the situation, I’m not an asshole. She still needed time. I knew I was much too eager to make our relationship known. I just wanted us to be real, you know? I wanted to hold hands in public. I wanted to be forced to go apple-picking. I wanted to post pictures online showing everyone how happy we were. I expressed this to her as kindly as I could, but my emotions got the better of me.

“Is it me?” I’d blurted.

She playfully rolled her eyes. “No!” she cried before going into all the cliches about how amazing I am and how any girl would be proud to call me theirs. It was her usual fix, but a temporary one, as the issue would only fester inside of me. I hope it would simply work itself out. How long could she really keep me a secret? How many more times was she going to make me park my car down the road? How long until an unexpected visitor caught us with our pants off?

Her friends were no less frustrated. They’d been wanting to come over, still worried about their dear grieving friend. Julia was running out of excuses, and signs of my existence were scattered around the house. It was time. Her best friends rallied together and practically forced themselves over. I could see the stress on Julia’s face. I wouldn’t tell her, but I was glad. This would validate us, and everything would be okay. How often I’d wondered what their faces would look like when she told them. Maybe a secret nod of approval when they thought I wasn’t looking. Or whispers of praise when I left the room. He’s so sweet, her most judgmental friend would say. She’d hated Daniel, they all did. They’d always begged her to leave him. This would go very well, I thought.

Then Julia introduced me as her “friend from work” and I was crushed. I sat slumped at the end of the table most of the night, silently sipping on my drink while the girls laughed and enjoyed themselves. Fucking Daniel, that fucking asshole. If only I’d met her first. He’d ruined her, the poor thing. She was afraid to open up! Julia endured the awkwardness I was creating, as well as the subtle questions from her friends while they silently speculated on our relationship. Oh, how badly I wanted to tell them. To blow the whole thing up and cause a scene. It was infuriating. This went nothing like I’d imagined it would. I was supposed to be a breath of fresh air compared to what she’d had. Now I just came off as a standoffish prick, insensitive to Julia’s recovery. Give me a break. Imagine if they’d known we’d been sleeping together months before Daniel died?

Julia made me leave before her girlfriends. Wouldn’t even hug me goodbye. I spent the night in the tiny apartment I was still stuck paying for. When she asked me to come over the next day, we fought. A back-and-forth yelling match. I explained to her how painful this was. How I felt used and unwanted. She apologized with the same assurances she’d been feeding me for weeks. I cooled off. This was, after all, a very unique situation. I, too, apologized for putting this kind of pressure on her. That night, we had ice cream and watched a movie. She let me keep my car in the driveway.

Despite my optimism, things got worse. Julia’s moods began to fluctuate. She was pouring more wine in her glass than usual, and taking these mystery pills before bed. The fears that I thought I had drowned had resurfaced. This thought—this sharp, cancerous little thought—was gnawing at my brain: Julia is only with me because her boyfriend died. All I could think about was how if he’d hit one more red light, he’d be the one next to her, and I’d still be in my shit-hole apartment, waiting for her to text me back. This cancer spread and suddenly I was seeing her displeasure in everything we did, looking for even the smallest sign of regret in every smile. Yes, it occurred to me that maybe I was causing my own problem. That maybe these fights were my fault. But I swore there was something in her eyes that said otherwise.

I was proven right the first time I heard her talking to him. I woke in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. There was a soft whisper coming from the spare bedroom at the end of the hall, which at the moment was just carpet and dressers. I inched silently down the hall and paused when I saw her through the crack of the door. She was bent down on her knees, her entire front pressed down upon the floor, her arms outstretched, a photo of Daniel sitting between them. Her whispers turned to fervent mantra. When she noticed me, she shot up and sprung towards the door, the photo hidden behind her small frame.

“Hi babe,” she grinned. “Sorry. Can’t sleep. Figured I’d meditate.”

I glanced over her shoulder but could only see the flicker of the flame. “Oh, okay.”

She kissed me goodnight but remained clung to the doorframe, watching as I sauntered back to bed, miserable. I wished I hadn’t seen anything.

I never spoke of it. I kept it all inside and it kept me up at night. I was afraid that she’d do it again. That she’d done it before! Every time Julia moved in her sleep, I sprung alert like a cat spotting a mouse. But I never did catch her. I suspected she was waiting until I was gone at work. So I came home early one night. Slipped through the back door like the good old days, only this time my heart raced at a different tempo. Horrified, I found Julia upstairs, sprawled on the same floor, almost naked, bowing down to a lit candle, with blood on her lip like she’d bitten it hard. I didn’t see the picture this time, just her clothes in a pile beside her. She jolted upright and looked straight into my eyes, her mouth agape, breathing heavily, like a rabid animal. I was frozen, and for a moment I thought she was going to attack me. She simply wiped the blood and shone that smile of hers, the white of her teeth a disturbing contrast to the red on her lips.

“I bent down too fast,” she explained with a chuckle and soft touch of her lip.

I tried to stay calm. “So this is your thing now, huh? Meditating?”

She shrugged and said, “You know, it helps. It really does.”

“Looks like it.”

We were stuck in momentary silence.

“I’ll finish up and start dinner, yeah?” she said as she grabbed my hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. I let it lie limp in her grasp, like a broken toy. She kissed me on the cheek and said she’d meet me downstairs. I stood at the top of the steps and watched her blow out the candle before heading for our bedroom.

“Your clothes,” I called out to her. She turned back, confused. I waved a hand towards the spare bedroom. “You forgot your clothes.”

She smiled again, this time without teeth. “Thank you,” she said. She returned to the room and, with one last happy glance my way, slipped into our bedroom with the clothes now under her arm, shutting the door behind her with a thud. I stared at the door as its echo rung out. Those weren’t her clothes. They were Daniel’s.

The next morning was as normal as ever. This irritated me. She sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee, scrolling through her phone, legs crossed, with a sharp glance my way as I entered the room. I could feel her eyes on me, like she was waiting for something. I gave my best “good morning”, but it rang hollow. I was a mess: I spilled my coffee, cut myself shaving, missed my exit for work. All I could think about was that crazed look on Julia’s face from the night before. I could see it when I closed my eyes.

The work day was a blur. I’d been afraid to go home, and of what I may walk in on. I drove slower than usual, even took back roads. I parked in my usual spot down the street under a tree and walked briskly toward the house. Most of the lights were out. Just a faint glow coming from one of the second floor windows. The front door closed behind me with a creak that I’d never noticed until then. There was music coming from upstairs, soft and orchestral. I set my bag down and followed the piano’s high runs up the stairs. My stomach dropped when I rounded the corner, feared something unpleasant. But the spare bedroom door was closed, and Julia was sitting in our bed, reading.

“Jesus!” she gasped with a mouth full of granola bar. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” I said without enough enthusiasm.

Julia sat up. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just seeing what you were up to.” I noticed the hand hidden behind her book was bandaged. “What happened there?”

She flashed a smile as fake as mine. “It slipped while I was cutting vegetables. It’s fine. Are you coming to bed now or…?”

I couldn’t tell if she wanted me to or not. A wave of red came over me. “Not yet.” I playfully squeezed her foot at the end of the bed before heading for the door. She stopped me.

“Hey. Come over here.”

She tossed the book on the desk beside her and pulled the covers down, revealing the light nightgown she’d been wearing. She was giving me the eyes but all I could think about was how this gown, though tiny and sheer, was more than she’d been wearing the previous night as she prayed before a photo of her ex-boyfriend. Though I didn’t want to, I gave in to her, hoping that at the very least this meant she had dealt with whatever she needed to, and that we’d never, ever, speak of it. But the love-making did nothing to allay my fears. It felt like a chore, like something we did because we had to. To be so distant during something so intimate, it ripped the soul right out of me. I tried to look at her but her eyes were closed. I so desperately wanted to see what was in them. And in the heat of such raw emotion, she finally opened them, gazing straight into mine, exposing this deep longing she’d been hiding and releasing it powerfully into the air in a hot exhale that brushed against my face. It was like she was hoping she’d see something else.

Julia fell fast asleep. I tossed and turned. Headlights raced along my windowsill and disappeared out of sight. I wanted to follow them, to clear my mind of this, if only for a little while. Carefully, I crawled out of bed and went downstairs for a glass of water, tip toeing along the cold, smooth tiles of the kitchen floor. I stood inside one for a bit, letting the blue cast of the night light embrace me, and with it, the thought I’d been rejecting: I had to leave her. I decided that tomorrow, I would wake up in this house for the last time.

Four in the morning crept quick. I thought about giving sleep another try and got as far as the upstairs landing when my curiosity halted me. With a quick check toward my room, where Julia lay lost in her dreams, I approached the spare bedroom and turned the knob as quietly as I could, pulling the door open slowly until the creaking got too loud. I poked my head inside and saw the candle, flameless, in the center of the room, sitting harmlessly on top of a blue yoga mat. She was really going to push this meditation story, wasn’t she, I wondered. I stared at it. Something didn’t feel right. I searched for the light switch and gave life to the room, cowering from its brightness. When my eyes adjusted, they saw nothing but the mat and the candle. The walls, bare as usual, the carpet clean, the dressers empty. I turned the light off, ready to move on. I was leaving tomorrow anyway, what did this matter? But I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t. I turned the light on again and stepped inside, picking the candle up and holding it close to my face. “Coastal Waters”. It smelled like fresh laundry. There was certainly nothing special about it. I felt like a madman, as though Julia’s own madness had infected me. I sighed and bent down to put the candle back, when I noticed a dark stain on the yoga mat. I lifted the edge and saw more underneath. Tossing the mat aside, I discovered the true reason for its placement there: encircling where the candle would have been was some symbol stained into the carpet. Blood. In the circle were two photos—the one of Daniel I had already seen, and another, of myself. Next to my photo was a crumpled bit of toilet paper, spotted in red. I’d thrown this in the trash yesterday morning after I’d cut myself shaving.

By the time I dropped back into bed, the sky was beginning to lighten. There was a ringing in my ear that continued to keep me awake. I stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling. Julia rolled over and made a noise before returning to deep sleep, her hand brushing against mine and grabbing it on instinct. I could feel the scar from where she’d cut herself. It made something inside my brain pop.

I was the one waiting in the kitchen the following morning. The ringing in my head had grown louder, and I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten there. I didn’t feel like me anymore. My movement was robotic, my arms, tingly, and there was a peculiar weight building in my chest. I made myself a cup of coffee and left a cup on the table for Julia. It must have gotten cold, as I had been standing there for a while, staring out the glass sliding-door into the yard where two birds sat perched upon a branch, staring at me. I stared back. I must have fallen asleep with my eyes open, because the yard was starting to transform. The tree on which the birds sat began growing before my eyes, far up into the sky. The birds zoomed off at an impossible speed, like the flowers below, growing taller and taller, faster and faster. One of the birds was suddenly fluttering before me. It said, “Wake me up. Wake me up.”

A sudden noise brought me back, and I turned to find Julia watching me from behind the marble-top island where her cold coffee awaited. She was breathing slowly, nervously.

“Did it work?” she muttered.

“Hi Jules,” I said. My voice sounded different.

Julia’s eyes widened, her hand still clutching the marble countertop, bracing. Unsure. She was studying me. Our eyes locked. We were immobile, and alone, accompanied only by the white noise of the refrigerator’s hum.

“Daniel?” she uttered.

My face scrunched into a smile and nodded. “It’s me, Jules.”

Julia broke into a run and nearly tackled me to the floor in a jumping embrace. She began kissing me all over, her happy tears rubbing against my neck and face.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered as she pressed herself into my chest where I held her tight. We rocked gently back and forth.

“I know... It’s okay...” I rubbed her back as she continued to cry.

“Don’t leave me again,” she sobbed repeatedly. “Don’t leave me… don’t leave me…” Her hands were moving up and down my back. We were dancing. I hushed her and assured her I would always be with her. I then grabbed her shoulders and pealed her off of me. “But I can’t stay, Jules..”

This hit her hard. “What do you mean? I—I did everything they told me to do…I—I—I got the pictures, I got the blood. It’s supposed to be you now, it’s supposed to—”

“It’s not enough.”

“Well then what do I do! Tell me what I have to do, Daniel, and I’ll do it!”

The ringing in my ears was becoming increasingly disorienting. I let go of her shoulders and looked at her sadly. “The only way is if you come with me,” I told her.

She was searching the air for answers. “Come with you where, baby?”

I said nothing. And then she figured it out. She shook her head in protest, groaning in displeasure.

“Shh, shh.” I grabbed her face in my hands. “It’s so much better there. I promise. It’s better than people know. Please, babe, trust me.”

Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair unkempt, her clothes dirty. She looked terrible.

“Why can’t you just stay?” she whined like a child.

“I can already feel myself fading. I’ll probably be gone again soon.”

“No! No, no, no.” She grabbed hold of me again. I held the back of her head into my chest once more. She was hysterical.

“Come with me, Jules,” I whispered.

“How?” she mustered through her sobs. She was shaking.

I took her by the hand and walked her to the island.

“I made this for you,” I said, sliding the mug closer to her. “If you drink it, we can be together again.”

She was looking at it hesitantly, debating in her mind. She held her eyes shut tight and reopened them with many blinks. Words were trying to form on her lips but they couldn’t come out. I picked up the mug and held it in front of me.

“Remember when I got this for you?”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve and shook her head. “My mother got me that.”

“Caught me,” I laughed. “I was never good with any of that, huh?”

She smiled to herself. What a silly man her Daniel was! But as reality hit, she was overcome with sadness once more. She took my hand and kissed me, a long, sloppy, kiss. We broke for a moment, and returned more passionately than ever. I’d almost dropped the mug but managed to place it down just before she pushed me against the kitchen counter, nearly straddling me. It was amazing. It was real—far more real than the night before. I thought things were going to progress even further, when she suddenly let go and reached for the mug, chugging down several large gulps before nearly gagging over the taste. She froze and looked at me like a child realizing they’d done something wrong. Her breathing picked up. She was scared. She reached for me, and for a split second I considered rejecting her. But I let her back into me. She was exhaling this quiet bit of emotion, like a dog whimpering. I could feel the heat of it through my shirt. We stood like this for a few moments, in total silence, the refrigerator still humming to us.

“It was always you,” she whispered.

I suddenly released from our embrace to look at her, our hands still connected. “It was never me.”

She was taken aback. “Daniel?”

Then I felt her start to shake, so I let go. She collapsed to the floor and started to convulse, the coffee mug and its contents scattered all across the floor. She tried to cry for help but she was choking, her eyes wide, scared, confused, betrayed. I stopped watching. After a few moments, it was over.

I called the cops shortly afterward and told them I woke up and found her this way. There were phone calls, rolls of caution tape, and a search of the premises. They found all these pills Julia had been taking, beside rat poison and alcohol. And there was blood on the carpet of the spare room. They had some questions about that, of course, but I told them I had no idea what it was. How she’d been in there an awful lot lately. That she claimed to have cut her hand preparing dinner. Boy was I shocked when they told me what she’d really done! Oh, it was a such long night.

But I finally got to meet Julia’s family. They seemed nice. I was with them actually, when the police broke the news of Julia’s death. An apparent suicide, they said, likely over the grief of having lost her former lover, whose picture they found by a candle in the room at the end of the hall. Aghast, I strongly disagreed. As I explained at the funeral, Julia and I had been so truly happy. For months! Her poor family. They just stared at me in complete bewilderment.

Needless to say, everyone knows about us now.

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