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mimik-u · 4 years ago

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Flower Child (Chapter 14): Night

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6:10PM:

For the last fifteen years, Jay Zircon had been Diamond Electric’s top lawyer alongside her sister and fellow counsel, Gilda. Whatever lawsuits the company faced—and it had faced more than its fair share—the pair headed the legal team which incisively ensured victory for their illustrious CEO, Yellow Diamond.

Where Gilda was aggressive and willing to snipe beneath the belt, a style that suited their similarly minded boss, Jay was more circumspect in her methodology, able to work through all the variables of a given case to create a slower but undeniably thorough position. When the two of them worked together, they made a dichotomous but somehow remarkably fluid team.

They didn’t lose very often.

They couldn’t afford to lose given the status, prestige, and formidable demand of their employer, who also didn’t lose.

Very often.

(Yellow Diamond had lost her only child four years ago, and it was clear to everyone, to all who knew her, that she hadn’t been the same since.)

The Zircons worked together often in the sense that they were continually forced into close proximity to each other by the nature of their jobs and painful holidays with their aging mother… but as far as working together in a more metaphorical sense went, aliens would invade Earth first before the siblings would ever find common ground for longer than a day.

And somehow, aliens were less of a far-stretch.

“I’m looking at all the facts now, and I truly think, if I-I’m allowed to be frank, Mrs. Diamond, that it is in our best interest to settle for this particular case.” Jay’s voice trembled as she carefully addressed the figure at the head of the conference table.

Arranged in a black three piece suit, Yellow Diamond was simply—there was no other word for it—striking, a slightly slouched but otherwise imperial statue cut from marble in her hardback chair. There was always an air about her, an impression, that she was an impenetrable fortress, her tall walls fortified with sharp weaponry and stone.

Her architecture was magnificent, but in its harshness and angularity, all lines and geometrical edges, it always emphasized an implicit message: She was a woman who it would be unwise to cross.

She stared between the sisters impassively, finger interlocked below her sharp chin as she listened, though Jay couldn’t help but notice that the CEO’s attention was divided between them and her phone, which sat dormant on the table, a silent specter.

“That’s your go-to solution, isn’t it?” Gilda scoffed, her arrogance impressively balanced in the haughty tilt of her nose. “Settle. What is this? A petty traffic ticket? We shouldn’t be settling anything! We could have them on the ropes if we just—”

“Gilda!” She interrupted incredulously, splaying her hands forcibly on the table. “Loosen your cravat so you can see the big picture for heaven’s sake! The factory‘s waste has been unlawfully leaking on a protected reservation for twelve years. We can contest that until we’re blue in the face, but no judge on this green earth is going to rule in our favor.”

Her sister opened that insufferable mouth of hers, likely to argue some asinine point that Jay would spend the next thirty minutes trying to meticulously deconstruct, but the familiar tango was harshly interrupted by the ringing of a phone that was neither of theirs.

“Quiet!” Yellow Diamond hissed, fluidly pulling the device up to her ear, and there was a viciousness in her ordinarily well-regimented face that neither lawyer felt particularly equipped to contest.

So they blanched into obedient silence on either side of the tense CEO.

Gilda uncomfortably picked at her portfolio.

“Blue? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

On the other end of the line, the woman who Jay knew to be Yellow Diamond’s wife, seemed to reply.

Fifteen years was a long time to have known the Diamonds, and during that span—all those days, weeks, and months—Jay understood both very little about them and an incredible lot.

Fifteen years ago, Pink Diamond had been a precocious ten-year old who had accompanied her mother to work from time to time. She used to play on the elevator, zipping from the lobby to the fortieth floor constantly, as though it was some exciting game called Annoy the Poor Elevator Attendant. Jay had been awkward and clumsy then, a young lawyer still trying to find her footing as the newest addition to one of the most elite legal teams in the entire city, and one of her most vivid memories from that time was the youngest Diamond accidentally bumping into her on said elevator, causing her to spill her scalding coffee all over her favorite portfolio.

The child had apologized profusely and even proffered her own jacket as a napkin because she was sweet like that—if a little impish. Freckles crossed the bridge of her nose like trailing dandelion dust; there was a gap in her mouth where she’d just lost a tooth.

For a couple of years there, Jay became familiarized with the heiress’s occasional presence in the building. She was the shock of pink hair bobbing impatiently in the elevator, and she was the flash of red converses heeling off down the hallway and around the corner. She was the lone bubbly voice in a sea of sober business droning. She was ten, and then she was thirteen, and then she was sixteen, obnoxiously jingling the keys to her new convertible around everywhere, as though just begging someone to ask about them.

She was the rare smile on Yellow Diamond’s unbending mouth—crooked there, stiff.

Almost reluctant.

But undoubtedly there.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

The hallways of Diamond Electric felt a little less… vibrant without the spontaneity of those red converses and the climbing octaves of that high, lilting laugh.

Mischievous.

To the last.

As for Blue Diamond, Jay could only claim to have seen her maybe a handful of times in the course of her employ at DE, though only one occasion was stark in the lawyer’s well-ordered recollections.

At the trial where Pink Diamond’s killers were sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole, the Zircons’ euphoria at having argued their cased well was immediately tempered as the entire courtroom watched a tragedy unfold before their eyes. There was no applause as Yellow Diamond stood and held her wife in her arms.

There was only silence.

And baited breath.

And a mutual, unspoken, dirty relief that they were not the Diamonds and only passive voyeurs to what was assuredly unspeakable misery.

That night, Jay and Gilda were quite polite to each other as they taxied away from the courthouse.

A mutual, unspoken, dirty truce.

“No, no, I’m, of course I’m not busy,” Yellow said, standing up with an abruptness that startled the Zircons. She was already halfway to the door before at least one of them recovered their wits.

“But, Mrs. Diamond!” Gilda interjected. “The lawsuit. We—”

“We’re done for the night,” Yellow called over her shoulder, a brusqueness in her voice that left no room for argument. “We can reconvene in the morning.” “But—”

The door slammed on Gilda’s final protestation.

A framed picture of the Empire City skyline comically fell from its place on the wall at the force of the exit, landing facedown on the floor with a pathetic ker-clunk.

Jay glanced down at the neatly compiled packet below her—the efforts of at least two weeks worth of joint research.

They had barely made it past page four; there were fifty-two pages total.

“Her head’s just not in the game anymore,” Gilda sniffed, scooping up her own papers with a roughness that wasn’t entirely impersonal. “Hasn’t been in years now.”

“Gilda,” Jay chided sharply, her voice low, but even she knew that whispering was an exercise in futility.

Their boss was long gone.

“Oh, don’t give me that holier than thou nonsense, sister mine. You know it. Everyone in this office—nay!—this building knows it.” She shoved her portfolio back into her briefcase and closed it, harshly palming the brass clasps. “Our stalwart leader has been compromised.”

“She’s still grieving obviously. She’s taking care of her wife…”

Gilda only shook her head, standing up from her own chair. Her impeccable coif—tall and vaguely impossible looking—gleamed beneath the warm overheads.

“And I’m sympathetic towards her,” she said. “I am. But you cannot run a multibillion dollar business on sentiment.”

It was an effective closing statement to which Jay Zircon had no reasonable rebuttal.

Her sister swept out of the conference room with a last harrumph of contempt, while she alone remained, the last diner at that long, empty table. She shuffled a few of her papers absentmindedly and glanced out of the yellow-tinted windows as the sky slowly turned over to night, charcoaling.

Sentiment.

This company had no use for it.

6:44PM:

The conversation had lasted maybe ten minutes, two of which were lost to clumsy silence as Yellow Diamond navigated from the conference room to her office around the corner, closing the door behind her with a resolute click.

They spent three minutes more on useless pleasantries because that was just what a phone call between two spouses who didn’t really talk anymore entailed.

The barely breathed, Hello.

The awkwardly returned, Hi.

The shuffling of their reluctant breaths, all static and white noise over the line, before Yellow ripped the bandage off with all the indelicacy she centered her brutal facade around, exposing the wound raw.

Did you mean it? Are you sure you’re… okay ?

Because the bleak truth was that she wasn’t sure she believed Blue when she said that she was fine. Four years of perpetual mourning had taught her entirely too much about silent, grief stricken nights and very little about belief, hope, and all of those other empty platitudes. Blue Diamond could say that she was fine and leave a suicide note in the wastebasket three hours later. Blue Diamond could promise that she was okay, only to dissolve on a balcony full of sun because she was light five minutes ago… and now—and forevermore—she was not. She could build a cathedral out of reassurances and condemn it to the ground with just the thought, the remembrance, and the overwhelming absence of Pink Diamond, who haunted them both perpetually and always.

They’d been in the ruins for four years now, and the bottom line was that Yellow Diamond didn’t trust mere words.

And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t trust Bl—

Pleasantries and silence—that was what a phone call between two spouses who didn’t really talk anymore entailed.

There was breathing, and there was the swelling darkness just outside the gold colored windows of Diamond Electric.

In and out and in and out.

Inhale.

Exhale.

And there was a long pause as Blue Diamond collected her thoughts in that quietly precise way of hers; she was always so meticulous in how she used her words, as though they were instruments to be handled with delicate care.

Yes? She replied gently, her voice lilting upwards as though she was asking a question. And no… perhaps both at the same time if those emotions can coexist without contradiction… Yellow, I—

What? Because Yellow had abruptly cut in, unable to stand the tension.

So impatient to the last.

Unfailingly.

The coldness of the office pressed upon her like a vice, its hard edges sinking in her skin. She dug her fingers into the smooth surface of her desk as though to ground herself, but there was nothing to hold on to but the grains. It was always like this when she talked to Blue; the expansive scope of her world narrowed down to her and her alone. Gravity meant nothing; time meant nothing; everything in the world meant nothing.

Except.

And always.

Blue.

I’m sorry, she simply said.

It was only two words; they landed in the pit of Yellow’s stomach like a blow.

I’ve hurt you—immeasurably—in all these collected years, and I’m sorry for that, Yellow, she continued, her voice soft, for all the immeasurable, collected hurts. I am.

Two weeks ago, Blue Diamond had been lying catatonic in her bed, decomposing.

And now, she was apologizing for four years worth of hurt.

It was inconceivable.

Impossible.

It felt wrong.

Surreal.

Why? Yellow’s voice was strangled in her throat, dry and parched. Why now?

Why not a year ago when Yellow knelt by her bedside and pleaded with her—begged her—to stay goddammit? Why not all those hundreds upon hundred of nights that she had slept in the study on a damn leather couch, keeping one eye on the half-opened door in her study, even in the throes of sleep? Why today, of all days, when the consummate businesswoman was in the middle of yet another crucial meeting she would easily abandon all for the sake of one person?

Why?

The question scratched her chest; it punctured her beating lungs.

Why now?

And why… why was Yellow never enough?

(She had wanted to be enough.)

I visited a boy who is fighting for his life today, came the quiet reply. And it reminded me, quickly, of how fragile this all really is.

She had paused then.

The unspoken name nestled between them; the memory of their daughter wreathed her neck.

Pink used to love coming up to this very office just because she liked spinning around in her mother’s chair. Her shoes would briefly flash against the floor just so she could gain momentum, and then she would spin, spin, spin, her head tilted back in the beginnings of a long laugh.

Yellow glanced at it then, the worn leather shining dully in the light glancing in from the windows.

It was completely and utterly empty.

I have to go, Blue. Sorry. I stepped out of a meeting.

She had dismissed the meeting.

Oh, I—

We can talk when I get home tonight.

And then she had clicked the phone off unceremoniously and shoved it across the desk as though it offended.

Ten minutes.

For the last twenty, Yellow Diamond had been sitting in the darkness of her office in that damn leather chair, nursing a glass of scotch between her trembling hands. She downed one smooth shot and then another; she drank and she drank until the expensive decanter was all gone, and the after notes of vanilla and barley and peat smoke burned her aching mouth. She drank and she drank, rummaging through her liqueur cabinet with a kind of desperation that made her feel less like a human and more like a rabid dog, hunting for just a drop of water.

Anything to take off the edge.

She drank until all the memories went away, until four years worth of them were walled off by the dulling buzz of Lagavulin.

And when a single tear crept down the hardened architecture of her face, collecting pitifully on the point of her sharp shin, she was so damn drunk, that she didn’t even know what she was crying about anymore.

Why?

Why now?

And why was she not enough?

She had wanted to be enough.

The beginnings of stars rose from the fire of the sky, and Yellow Diamond watched them as they crashed and burned.

7:01PM:

See, the trouble started when the vending machine near their hotel room stopped working.

Nose wrinkling, stomach rumbling for the want of a snack that would tide her over until Greg got back with pizza, Amethyst tried shaking it, kicking it, and even pleading with the stupid thing all for the sake of a Twinkie she knew probably wouldn’t even taste that good.

But to no avail.

The Twinkie gods hated her apparently.

And so, with a sigh that sounded a hell of a lot more like a groan, she punched the refund button and got her dollar twenty five back in quarters before deciding to try the vending machine in the hospital lobby, moving along the smooth, carpeted floor with new purpose. The rubber sole of her left boot flapped noisily as she walked, having come loose a few weeks ago; she’d been meaning to get it repaired, but between work and Steven, time had been less of a quantity that she possessed, so much as it was something that she chased after.

Every second was a gift, and every minute was a fucking lottery.

There was an elevator ride down and accompanying elevator music, jingling and jangling rhythmically to the beat of her antsy nerves. And there was a text from Vidalia asking how Steven was doing, which she didn’t know how to answer, so she just didn’t reply. (V would get it better than most. Her hubs was a quiet man, so she knew the language of silence entirely too well, whereas Amethyst was still getting the hang of it. Silence was a stalker she had spent half of her life trying to avoid.)

And finally, there was the elevator prying itself open into an atrium that was darkening with the gathering night. Only a few visitors remained, scattered in various hardback chairs and wearing the same tired, careworn faces.

Amethyst didn’t doubt that she looked the same to them.

Because these were faces, sure enough, of loving someone and being afraid to lose them. There was a depletion to the act, a necessary consumption, that united them together beneath the flat roof of the Empire City Regional Medical Center.

They were exhausted—all of them.

So damn weary.

Amethyst had already slumped halfway to the vending machine when she saw her.

One of those same tired, careworn faces.

But a very particular tired, careworn face at the same time.

Blue Diamond, looking incredibly uncomfortable in the chair upon which she sat, her metal cane gleaming by her side.

Amethyst flicked her phone upwards so that the home screen briefly flashed on—it was 7:07. Hella late, and yet, the old lady was still here, looking for all the world like someone had killed her cat or something equally as egregious. Her plump lips were all twisted in a quiet, gnawing sort of frown as she played a little with her long hands on her lap.

Her eyes stared at the ground, but Amethyst could tell—the woman wasn’t really seeing it.

And there was something so singularly sad about this image.

Vulnerable.

That made Amethyst push her Twinkie quest to the back of her mind.

Shoving her curled fists into the pockets of her joggers, Amethyst took one step and then another across the tiled floor until she was standing right in front of the puzzle of Blue Diamond, the multibillionaire who had worn a bathrobe to a cemetery.

And she knew it was insensitive of her to think that way. Regardless of the woman’s faults, numerous though Amethyst assumed they were, she hadn’t asked for her griefs to be handed to her on a silver platter.

She hadn’t asked to be undone.

To be fair, though, no one ever did.

That was just the dice of life, rolled across a slanting table.

Snake eyes.

Sorry.

Better luck next time.

“Anyone sittin’ here?” She asked gruffly, jerking her thumb towards the empty chair on Blue Diamond’s left.

Startled from her solemn reverie, Blue looked up then, mouth parting slightly in a soft ‘o’ of surprise as recognition pinched her silvery brow. She shifted in her seat, hunched shoulders straightening with an understated kind of elegance that Amethyst had come to closely associate with Pearl.

This wasn’t an especially welcome analogy, though. After all, while she’d gotten used to Pearl’s various quirks by now, for a long time there—years even—she’d always felt… condescended by her in a way.

Patronized.

Small.

That feeling took a long ass while to go away with a person whom she considered to be one of her closest friends; how much longer would the sensation last with a total effing stranger, especially the very one she was, like, supposed to hate just on mere principle?

Amethyst ran a habitual hand through her hair in the awkwardness of it all and shifted her weight from one shoe to the other, rocking back and forth. The sole of the left one went flap, flap, flap.

“You’re… one of Steven’s guardians, yes?”

“Yup, one of many.” And then, because she knew that probably didn’t clarify matters, brusquely added, “Amethyst. I was the one who brought him to your suite the other day. Can I sit?”

She once again gestured pointedly to the chair, raising a lavender brow in such a way that more or less communicated, Jeez, woman, get it together.

“Oh, yes! My apologies,” came the appropriately abashed reply. “Please. Be my guest.”

And so, with a little more force than was necessary, Amethyst threw herself into the empty seat, ass already chafing against its hard bottom, the tips of her boots just barely scraping the clinically white floor.

She could feel Blue Diamond’s tallness next to her more than she dared to look at it for herself; her presence was overwhelming as it was without having to look at her dead on—the shadows turning circles beneath her huge eyes, the parentheses around her quivering mouth, and that air of misery that the twenty-nine year old knew well enough without needing to observe it in a perfect stranger. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she could see that the woman had gone back to staring at her wrinkled hands, templing them delicately on the blue fabric of her lap.

“My valet is coming to pick me up,” she offered without prompting, “but I believe traffic is delaying her.”

“S’always cray cray around this time of night,” Amethyst returned knowledgeably. She couldn’t claim to like Empire City, but after a few months of driving up here so often, she supposed she at least couldn’t refute that she knew it. “Lotsa idiots out n about.”

“Reckless, are they not?”

“The absolute wooooorst.”

And both of their mouths briefly quirked at exactly the same time before silence fell between them again, clumsy and awkward, like an entity still growing into its feet.

They were talking about traffic.

Neither of them really wanted to talk about traffic.

Amethyst broke the stillness first, studiously continuing to not look at her companion. Instead, she drew her leg upwards into her chair, so she could pick at her boot some more.

Flap, flap, flap.

“So you saw him, huh?”

It wasn’t necessary to evoke his name; after all, she was pretty sure that the image of him laying in that hospital bed, all swarming with tubes, haunted the both of them even now, invading the sanctity of their minds and eyes.

Flap, flap, flap.

She was going to tear her shoe to shreds if she kept it up.

(She kept it up.)

“I saw him, yes,” Blue agreed quietly, her fingers stilling in their cathedral position. One thumb was balanced carefully atop of the other, bricks without mortar, construction without foundation. “I... wasn't ready… he was so small... and I almost looked away... I'm ashamed to even admit it."

The confession was broken into tiny fragments, each splinter slow and painful in the rolling of her accent.

Amethyst couldn’t help herself then—restraint had never been the name by which she was known.

She was blunt.

She parried back, “You still could, y’know. You don’t have to be here for this.”

You don’t have to put yourself through this if you can help it.

(We can’t help it.)

“Not your circus, not your monkeys, and all that jazz.”

And maybe that was the crux of it, the beating heart behind the entanglement of her reluctance when it came to the wealthy woman sitting next to her. The Crystal Gem couldn’t understand why someone, anyone, would willingly partake in this exhibition when they had every blessed out in the world. Blue Diamond didn’t have to care for Steven. She didn’t have to be here. She could go back to the fiftieth floor of her penthouse suite and wall herself away from one care of this world more. Just from her looks alone, Amethyst could tell that she couldn’t afford another loss, and yet, she could absolutely afford to get away from the possibility of another loss if she just, well, left.

If she hurried.

Before the boy who was kind enough to extend flowers to random ladies in the cemetery could worm his way into a heart that had already had its reckoning.

But—and Amethyst was just now realizing this with the force of a collision—maybe that was the crux of it, too.

That simple goodness of a proffered hand had been enough.

It had changed a life.

Maybe, quite possibly, it had saved one.

“I… just got off the phone with my wife,” Blue Diamond whispered, “and she asked a singular question to which I couldn’t provide the answer. Why? Such a simple beast, and yet a devastatingly complex one.”

Why Rose all those many years ago?

Why Steven now? Why couldn’t they find him a damn kidney?

Why couldn’t life give them one damn break?

Why?

The familiarity of the question rose like a lump in Amethyst’s throat.

“I’ve looked away from her—from everything, really—for so many years, even before my daughter…” The woman trailed away, her voice hitching. It took her a few seconds to regroup. She placed a steadying hand on her chest. “… and now, for reasons I cannot necessarily explain myself… I don’t want to anymore. Maybe, Yellow, it is because a child in a cemetery told me that it was quite possible to still feel the pain of my loss and still live? Maybe, Yellow, it is because I sat upon a balcony with him and envied the hunger he had for life, and wondered, for the first time in years, if it was still possible to obtain a modicum of it for myself? Maybe, Yellow, I saw him in a hospital bed today—sick—and it reminded me of a truth that I’d long forgotten.”

Amethyst chanced a peek at Blue Diamond then, stole it ashamedly, as though she was a child reaching a hand into the cookie jar.

The dim incandescence of the overheads crowned her silvery head in soft, white light as she glanced upwards, her half-moon gaze angled to a spot that the Crystal Gem couldn’t quite see.

She almost looked beautiful—a portrait in melancholy, all feathery brushstrokes.

Steven would have thought so anyway.

Hell, he was the type of person who would have even said it.

“And what that’d be?” She asked.

What was the answer to that devastatingly simple, that horribly complex question, Why?

If there was even an answer at all.

What truth had a woman as seemingly erudite as Blue Diamond so guiltily forgotten?

Blue looked down then, a strand of wavy hair falling between her eyes. It curled a little at the end.

“Why?” She murmured, her strained voice barely above a whisper. Amethyst had to lean in just to catch what she said next. “Because I love you, Yellow—so much. That is why.”

The rawness of the proclamation, the sincerity of it, seared the both of them, landing cleanly between them like the precise swing of an axe. It was always such a vulnerable gamble to admit to love, and perhaps it was even revolutionary to proffer it as the solution to why.

Why am I trying?

Why am I still here?

Why can’t I look away, Steven?

Because I love you—so much. That is it.

That is all.

And that is why.

It was a simple phrase, and it was a profound one. It was scarcely said; in Blue Diamond’s case, it was forgotten.

“You should tell that to her,” Amethyst suddenly said, and just for a moment there, it didn’t matter that the person in question was the dread Yellow Diamond, her mortal enemy or whatever.

Just for a moment, Yellow Diamond was merely a person who was loved by another.

“Exactly like that,” she pressed before glancing away, her bangs falling across her eyes. She played with her busted shoe again as heat clambered up her face—flap, flap, flap. It was surreal to be sitting here, giving advice to a woman so different from her and so alien. It was only chance that they were both sitting here—here, of all places—beneath the roof of this hospital.

Tired and careworn.

Alike but not especially.

Perfect strangers.

Connected simply by a flower and a boy.

Now it was Blue Diamond’s turn to stare; her tall, sickle-shaped eyes were drawn to the noise of flap, flap, flap, which made Amethyst self-conscious about the fact that the woman was likely wearing a designer dress.

Damn these rich people.

“I fear it may be too late. I’ve done my damage.”

“Maybe,” Amethyst shrugged. It was all she could do. “But ya won’t know until you’ve tried.”

They were both silent again. Outside the glass windows, the world had taken on the dull purple of night, pulling it over its shoulders like a cozy, star-spangled nightgown.

“Thank you… Amethyst.”

Blue Diamond offered her a parenthetical smile of an olive branch of a truce; it was a reluctant little gesture, still stiff and foreign on the mouth of someone who looked like she hadn’t smiled in years.

“Nah, don’t mention it, dude," she shrugged.

It was not forgiveness, nor was it absolution.

But it was a tiny concession.

It was a tired half-smile pulling at her lips.

“I needed the reminder, too.”

7:39PM:

Traffic in Empire City was always a risky gamble of a business, especially at night when the only rule of the six lane seemed to be, “Everything goes, and good luck with the going, buddy, old pal, my friend.”

Having spent years driving up here with Rose for various doctor appointments and then relearning the routine all over again with Steven these past few months, Greg liked to fancy that he could navigate the beast as well as any boardie from a small beach town could ever claim to. But even still, all the ample driving experience in the world was no match for what a car wreck could do to the flow of vehicles streaming down the neon lit highway.

Somewhere a little up above his van, there was a cacophony of sirens—red and blue and shrill and insistent. In the passenger seat, the pizzas he’d picked up nearly an hour ago were cooling, the rich, greasy smell of them sidling up to his shoulder temptingly. He thought about taking a bite because it was late and he was hungry, but ultimately decided against it.

Amethyst would never let him hear the end of it.

So he thought about the accident up ahead and hoped that no one had been seriously injured. (He had his doubts, though. There were so many sirens, wailing.) His van slowly crept forward as the cars ahead were painstakingly navigated around the ruins. People honked up and down the endless line because patience wasn’t Empire City’s strong suit; the big city, the golden apple, didn’t wait for anyone, least of all everyone, and sometimes, it felt like everyone in the world lived here, a population made of skyscrapers and cars and brilliant lights.

But thinking about the wreck didn’t entertain him for very long—his apologies to those affected—so he thought about the soulful tunes crooning through his staticky radio. Some R&B band from the eighties whose name just barely escaped him. They sung about love and loss and red Corvettes that shined beneath the hot, sticky sun. Greg’s thumbs slapped the wheel rhythmically to the melody, picking out the notes with an easiness that might have made old Marty proud on a good day.

But then the music suddenly shuddered off, the jockey apologizing for the inconvenience.

They’d try to get the station back up shortly.

The silence was unbearable.

So he popped in the closest CD, thinking it was his relaxing music compilation.

But nope.

It was death metal, the sudden explosion of the heavy bass and snare drums nearly sending his car veering into the next lane over as his hands jerked on the wheel.

“Wrong one!” He panted, chest heaving with feral panic. “Stop! Eject!”

And with a slap harder than intended, he punched the panel of buttons at random, the noise screeching to a stop, the CD comically popping out like toast from a toaster.

Ding.

And silence filled all the empty spaces once again.

In the silence, Greg had no choice but to think of Steven.

He took great gulps of air, his shoulders still shaking from the reverberations of the abruptly snuffed music, and could find no more distractions.

This was the end of the road on an endless road of snailing cars.

His hands clenched painfully around the wheel, the images revving across his mind’s eye—unbidden, quick, ugly, and unwanted.

His son.

His only son.

Laying in that hospital bed.

Dying.

Was this all life had to offer? He wondered to himself, and in the place of noise, there was emotion; there was sadness and horror and anger roaring up the column of his throat.

Rising.

Leaking.

Dripping.

Down his ruddy cheeks and into his beard.

Down his throat.

Draining.

Loving people who were gonna always leave him in the end? Finding home only for it to immediately forsake him? Maybe old Andy had had it right, always up there in that great, blue oasis of sky—never touching the ground long enough for people to find him and love him and hurt him.

Maybe there was something to the idea of giving up.

But no. “Stop that,” Greg scolded himself harshly. “Stop.”

He’d spent his entire teen years running away from his folks and all their shiny expectations, so he was done running away. He had told himself that the moment he kicked Marty outta his van and turned it back around to Beach City and its sprawling sands—to the little oceanside town and the big woman with pink hair.

Right then and there, he’d been ready to accept the consequences of his actions.

The starchild had grown into a man.

And that meant staying the course, no looking back or skywards, no regrets or what-could-have-beens.

For Steven Universe, he would stay until the end… no matter what that end happened to be.

That was responsibility.

And that, above all, was love.

Love was solidity, and it was thereness, and it was warmth.

It was patience, and it was risk that never quite guaranteed reward.

Love was staying.

Even when things got tough, and maybe especially when they did.

(Stay, he'd pleaded with Rose when Dr. Howard turned the ventilator off. He had held her hand. He didn't want her to be alone.)

(Please, he begged as the lines that measured the beating of her heart began to falter and fade away.)

His bushy brow furrowed in quiet sympathy as he finally maneuvered around the scene of the accident, going slowly as a traffic officer signaled him on with a hand and a whistle. He saw the carnage out of the corner of his eye, all twisted metal and climbing smoke. What looked like a Nissan had plowed right into the back of a fancy lookin’ black town car, not unlike the one which had brought Blue Diamond to the hospital earlier…

His heart lurched.

But then he thought about it.

He considered.

Nah.

Couldn’t be her.

From what he understood, her high rise was somewhere past the hospital.

8:54PM:

“Pearl, go home before I tell Gunga on you,” Kiki teased, but all the same, there was concern in her voice, a hint of seriousness that didn’t quite mark her playful threat as simply playful. It flashed in the depths of her warm, brown eyes. And it brushed against Pearl’s shoulder with a gentleness she had come to expect from the younger Pizza sister.

The two of them were both working behind the bar of Fish Stew Cuisine tonight, the restaurant Kiki’s father and grandmother owned. It used to be just a casual place for locals—then called Fish Stew Pizza—but with time, effort, and a considerable amount of increased tourism when vacationers realized that there was a lovely beach here to visit and trash, it had expanded into one of Beach City’s finest restaurants.

It was a slow night, though, rain coming down in heavy sheets outside the tall, glass windows.

At this late hour, only a few diners remained, casually enjoying their dinners to the rhythmic tattoo of the storm—mostly regulars, people who understood that through rain, hail, sleet, or snow, Fish Stew would always be here for patient guests, arms open wide and plates steaming with good food. The amber light strewn from the dusky lamps made the place feel warm, as though it was full of quiet fire, flickering in so many overhanging hearths.

Pearl swiped persistently at a stain on the glass she was cleaning.

She’d been working on it for five minutes now in the absence of a new customer to tend to.

“I can’t just leave,” she returned exasperatedly, still scrubbing away at the mark. She was starting to think that it was yet another lost cause.

(She seemed to have a penchant for those lately.)

“I promised to work until closing.”

And I have to.

There are bills to pay and possible surgeries to fund.

But she didn’t say this part aloud; she didn’t want to put that weight on a seventeen-year old who meant well.

“Girl, closing isn’t ’til eleven, and you’ve been here since two,” Jenny Pizza laughed, glancing up from her phone long enough to do so. She was Kiki’s older sister and a bit of a rebel to the boot. Though she was technically on the clock, too, she had been sitting on the other side of the bar for the past half hour now, sending something she called “snaps” to her friends. These “snaps” often involved her making funny faces at her camera, ninety percent of these compelling her to poke her lips out. “Go home, and get some shut eye. Seriously.”

“Seriously,” Kiki parroted, snatching the glass from out of Pearl’s hands when she wasn’t looking.

With a certain primness, she chunked it into the nearest recycling bin as the bell on the door pealed, signaling an incoming customer.

“Kiki!”

“The new ones are coming in next week anyway,” the girl only replied with a shrug of mischievous shoulder. “Now, Pearl, go the eff home. We got this. Right, Jenny?”

“Mhm.” Jenny made a vague noise of agreement without looking up again. “Yeah, you’ve got this, Kiki. Get it.”

“Well,” Kiki only rolled her eyes, “I’ve got this anyway.”

Two massive arms, both scarred and tattooed, slammed down on the countertop then, and Pearl’s mouth immediately twitched into a smile to see that it was none other than Bismuth, a local construction worker for the city and a fellow Crystal Gem. Her spectacularly colorful dreads were thrown upwards into a haphazard ponytail, and her mouth was wide with one of those trademark Bismuth smiles, all lopsided, shining with white teeth.

“Pearl,” she scolded in that wry way of hers, “are you givin’ these pretty ladies trouble again?”

“Yesssssss,” Kiki replied, already starting on the woman’s usual order. (Jerk chicken and eggs.) “Homegirl won’t go home even though she’s been here all day. Just look at her.” The teenager gestured vaguely at Pearl’s body. “She looks dead on her feet.”

“You’re being incredibly rude tonight, you know,” Pearl huffed, unable to resist the urge to glance down. There was an unidentifiable stain on the collar of her shirt.

She hated unidentifiable stains on the collars of her shirts.

“It’s for your own good,” she replied sagely, turning away as her saucepan began to sizzle on the stove. With Jenny also occupied, Pearl was left to the mercy of Bismuth, who’d always had a way of seeing through her, down to her deepest core.

Nothing escaped those dark eyes of hers, not a tool, not a loose screw, not the quiet, aching sadnesses of a friend. With a self-assuredness that Pearl had always lacked and a gentleness that she had always loved, her old companion reached across the bar and placed a calloused palm atop of the pale ridges of Pearl’s knuckles, covering them completely.

“C’mere, sugar,” she said softly, “and tell me all about it.”

“It’s late,” Pearl whispered automatically, glancing away. She always had some excuse or another. “And you’ve been working. You must be tired.”

“Hell,” Bismuth snorted as Kiki pushed a soda towards her, “if I’m tired, then you must be exhausted. The kid’s right. You look it.”

“The kid’s always right,” Kiki chimed in knowingly before moving away again.

And so, as the breath of rain continued to hiss on the roof, Pearl drew up a stool and sat across the bar from Bismuth, her hand warm beneath the other’s surprisingly gentle touch.

And they talked.

Softly.

Pearl told her everything.

She told her about the cemetery and Steven and the tiny hibiscus flower that passed from his hand to that of Blue Diamond’s, watching as Bismuth’s expressive face twisted in the same sort of horror and disgust that she herself had been grappling with ever since the bathrobed woman had somehow made her way into the entanglement of their lives. And Pearl told her about the last trip to Empire City, how Steven had almost needed a blood transfusion, and how that almost had become their reality when he’d collapsed in the beach house, hitting those wooden slats with a thunk that still echoed in the hollows of her head.

“I yelled at Amethyst,” she whispered, horrified, trying to withdraw her hand from beneath Bismuth’s.

Bismuth’s grip only tightened.

“I said some horrible things.”

“We all say horrible things,” the woman only replied, looking down, ever so subtly glancing away. Fifteen years ago, she and Rose had had a falling out over how to protest Diamond Electric. They hadn’t made up before she died. “The fixin’ part is what matters.”

And so Pearl, swallowing hard in acceptance of this lived-through truth, went on and on until her voice was scratchy from the strain of it. She told Bismuth about how small Steven was in the hospital bed and how sickly. She told her, fingernails digging into the grains of the bar, about how Priyanka Maheswaran, who always had a solution, didn’t really have an answer. She told her about the IVs and the wires and the blood transfusions and the possibility of a feeding tube.

And she told her, without saying a word, that she was scared.

Admissions did not come easily to the woman, but they were written across the physiognomy of her entire body anyway.

The desperation leaked from her pale eyes.

And all the sleepless nights lined her pointed face.

And there was a stiffness in the way she held herself, so harshly, with studied discipline.

But by definition, discipline was necessarily repression, and repress, repress, repress was the motto and model by which Pearl lived her life. It was the lone vanguard which kept her from shattering to pieces on the floor—just another mess for Kiki to sweep up with the rest of the clutter.

It was her last defense against total dissolution.

When she had nothing, at least she could put a smile on her face and pretend otherwise.

“So it’s been a long week,” she smiled wearily at the end of this.

She smiled because the alternative was to fall apart.

"To say the least.”

But, again, that was the thing about Bismuth.

Nothing escaped those dark eyes of hers, not a tool, not a loose screw, not the quiet, aching sadnesses of a friend.

With that familiar self-assuredness, her old companion rose from her seat and walked around to the other side of the bar.

“Bismuth, wait, I—”

And then, without hesitating, she crushed Pearl into her strong arms.

The engineer smelled faintly of oil and flavored tobacco.

Peppermint.

Crisp and sharp.

“To say the least,” she only agreed as Pearl’s lower lip began to tremble.

Her arms were limp, useless, by her sides, hanging over the edges of the stool.

“I’m fine,” she tried. The word fell flat on her tongue. “Really.”

“I don't doubt that you are. I never would. But you don’t have to be, hon,” Bismuth replied softly, her breath kindling warm against her ear. “You work so hard… and you care so much… that it ain’t a crime to need some tender love n care, too. It ain't weakness to be kind to yourself, Pearl."

Pearl was frozen, statuesque, even as the world somehow continued to spin around her. Diners chatted, rain fell, and the eggs sizzled in their frying pan. Everything and everyone else had their place in this world.

She wasn’t sure where that left her and all the griefs she so tightly wrapped herself around—scars and still-bleeding wounds.

“How can I break,” she asked, her voice tight, “knowing he’s lying in that hospital bed? What right do I have to fall to pieces when what he’s fighting is a hundred times worse?”

Somehow, Bismuth had an answer to this, too; she seemed to always have an answer.

She rubbed gentle circles into Pearl’s back.

She didn't let go.

“Pain isn’t a competition, Pearl,” she admonished. “When you’re hurting, you’re hurting.”

There was a matter-of-factness to this statement, a sense of finality, and perhaps that was what did it in the end; the raw truth of it confronted her, and it scalded her, and it forced her to confess.

Pearl shattered, and Bismuth was there to scoop up all the pretty, broken pieces.

“It hurts all over,” she admitted as the tears wrenched themselves loose from her eyes.

“I know, sugar."

Outside the restaurant, the rain continued to beat its relentless dirge into the Boardwalk, the sky falling in shards and unholy music, all needle sharp notes.

If the crescendo screamed, it absolutely roared.

10:03PM:

Outside the window of Room 11037, night wrapped its velvety arms around a sky shivering with stars, and Garnet, attentive of every wire and tube, wrapped her warm arms around Steven as they laid in his hospital bed together, watching a late night re-run of Crying Breakfast Friends. This was the episode where Pear betrayed the stoic Spoon’s trust, and all the assorted breakfast people cried about it for a good seven minutes of the show’s eleven minute runtime.

For some odd reason, the animation on Spoon’s tears was exceptionally well done, the liquid fluidly running down the curvature of their face as they wailed incoherently.

“Wahhhhhhhhhh.”

(Not for the first time, Garnet absently wondered who had been paid to write this.)

Beneath her, Steven sniffed noisily, bringing up the less-encumbered of his hands to swipe tentatively at his nose; it was an awkward movement with the oxygen cannulas in the way.

“You’ve seen this one before,” Garnet teased softly, her voice landing somewhere in his dark hair. “Twice that I know of. It can’t be that sad anymore.”

She waited for a laugh and a witty retort—for a remarkably insightful analysis into why it was okay to cry over crying breakfast utensils—but one wasn’t forthcoming, even though the child’s shoulders were conspicuously shaking.

She looked down at him then, catching a sliver of his face in the light wash of the television; tears streamed silently from his eyes and down the sunken hollows of his face, down into the collar of his gown, down past the spiral of wires.

“Steven.” Garnet propped herself up with an abruptness that was almost violent, though when she cupped his face between her long fingers, her touch was exceedingly gentle. “What’s wrong?”

But Steven shook his head, burying it into the front of her sweatshirt as a low whine escaped past his anemic lips.

His chubby fingers twisted into the fabric next to her stomach.

“Steven!” Panic slipped up the rungs of her voice.

She looked around wildly her for the call button on the railing, but they were surrounded by so many tubes and blankets.

And it was dark.

And Steven was crying.

“Garnet,” he finally moaned, “my back hurts.”

It was a common symptom with his disease. Because the kidneys were located right below the ribcage, his upper back often spasmed when they were being particularly bothersome.

At home, they would give him medicine and press a heating pad to his spine, hoping against both hell and hope that the warmth would sooth the worst of the pain.

Here in the hospital, they could give him morphine.

They could even sedate him.

Make the pain go away for a few hours if that was mercy.

(Once, after a particularly bad attack that’d almost brought them to the hospital, Steven had described the pain like being stung by a jellyfish over and over again, as though its tentacles were wrapped around his torso, wringing him out all over.)

“I have to get a nurse,” she said automatically, her throat dry. He clung to her so tightly that she didn’t dare move an inch. On the TV, Spoon was still crying, their keening overwrought next to Steven, who cried so quietly these days that it was almost like he hated for anyone to hear.

“They’ll drug me?” He asked astutely, the sound muffled in her shirt.

“Yes.”

“It’d make me sleep.”

“Maybe... yes.” Garnet couldn’t see where he was going with this until his fingers tightened just a fraction more where they gripped her.

Her lips parted.

And there was silence.

And there was crying.

And there was understanding most of all. It scorched Garnet and simply ruined her.

“You don’t want to go to sleep.”

It was a statement, hoarsely dragged from her mouth.

She received a minimal head shake as her answer.

“You’re scared.”

And somehow, she knew the veracity of her words before he nodded his assent into her chest.

Steven was scared to fall asleep—afraid, maybe even terrified, that he wouldn’t wake up. The horror of it, the awfulness and the unfairness, and the cruelty of it rose up in Garnet’s chest like a tsunami, a fire, a hurricane, a storm.

Yet, she remained immobile.

She didn’t move.

What could she even say to that?

What was she supposed to say?

Words were insufficient.

(She couldn’t even reassure herself.)

The small TV screen suddenly faded to black as Crying Breakfast Friends ended, and the credits rolled, the show’s elegiac theme song playing softly in the background, all piano notes and somber violin strings.

It was a little easier, at least, when she couldn’t see his face.

“I’m scared, too,” she admitted.

It was only three words, but they exacted her, and they excavated her; heat clambered up her cheeks, settling somewhere behind her burning eyes.

Steven’s shoulders briefly stilled, though all the machines keeping him alive continued to whir on.

“Y-you are?”

“All the time.” Scared to touch him, scared to even look at him. Scared that one day, she would wake up and he would be gone, a shell finally reclaimed by its shore. Scared to leave this hospital room lest she miss a single moment, and scared to stay if that meant watching him go. Scared that they wouldn’t find him a kidney in time, and scared that if they did, they couldn’t afford it.

Garnet was a wreck, barely holding together.

She was Garnet.

She had to hold together anyway.

“And sometimes, Steven,” she whispered, hugging him to her chest as much as the tubing would allow, “that is what love is—being scared and moving forward anyway.”

Into the darkness, hand in hand.

Without the promise of safe return.

Her mothers had done it.

Rose Quartz had done it.

And the footprints they had left behind were big to fill, but Garnet didn’t have to fill them; she just had to follow their lead.

Steven was quiet for a couple more heartbeats still before he slowly withdrew his head from her chest to look up at her; he didn’t quite let go of her shirt; he took ragged, rasping breaths, his shoulders heaving to the rhythmic whirring of his heart monitor.

“You can call the nurse now.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

It was all she could manage.

“And, Garnet?”

“Yes, Steven?”

“I love you.”

10:45PM:

Cooling down after a long day of work was always struggle for Priyanka, whose mind was such that it was perpetually working ahead to the next day of work—all the patients she had to do rounds upon, all the charts she had to fill out, and all the procedures she had to meticulously prep for, spending as much time in the hospital’s library as she did the operating room.

If the table of her head wasn’t perpetually well-set, her thoughts surgically arranged on a porcelain plate, scalpels placed in descending order by size on the adjacent napkin, then the doctor felt unmoored from the trait which made her feel fundamentally herself.

Her precision—unerring, diligent, and unpretentious.

She checked and double-checked and was a better nephrologist for it. By the nature of the temperamental organ she was dealing with, her patient mortality rate was high, but no one, by the nature of her methodology, could say that it was because of human error.

She checked and double-checked, trying to quantify every conceivable possibility before they could make themselves known in the real world, and when she neglected to deconstruct a hypothetical, which was a rarity in and of itself, she would chastise herself for it both before and better than anyone else ever could.

Priyanka Maheswaran was a study in precision, never shirking away from the reward that often laid at the end of hard labor.

But what no one had ever told her was that a side effect of being precise was being so damn tired.

All the time.

She struggled to cool down, and she was exhausted. She desperately wanted to sleep, but her mind whirred and whirled and calculated and thought. The dichotomous interplay of these qualities led to her sipping hot tea in bed with a pinched expression on her face as her husband stretched out next to her, reading his tattered copy of Crime and Punishment and sometimes laughing aloud when a line struck him as funny.

“Ha,” he snorted after awhile of this before replacing his bookmark (an old grocery store receipt) in his new spot and closing the heavy tome. “I love Dostoevsky.”

Lips pressed to the rim of her nearly empty mug, Priyanka arched a sharp brow at him, smiling wryly.

Her husband was a dork.

“Should I be jealous, dear?”

“Naturally,” Doug returned, reaching over to place the book on his nightstand before turning back towards her. “Dostoevsky has it all. A great grasp on existentialism and a beard for days. He could tone it down on the heavy moralism, though.”

“That’s what you said about Tolstoy,” she reminded him with a tilt of her head. “Good beard, too much sermonizing.”

“It’s a running theme,” her husband admitted sadly, and then, catching each other’s eye, the two Maheswarans suddenly laughed, the sounds loud in the otherwise quiet room.

It was moments like these, after nearly seventeen years together, that kept them going strong. They loved each other, and they liked each other, and they especially liked to make each other laugh.

Even if it was about something as specific as Russian literature titans.

And maybe especially if it was about something as specific as Russian literature titans.

“We’re going to wake our daughter up,” Priyanka finally said, setting her mug down on her own nightstand. In the lamplight, the dark ceramic gleamed. Her phone, sitting next to it, showed that she had a new message from one of the surgical interns she was training.

She’d open it in a minute.

Knowing the group of fools she’d gotten this year, whoever it was had probably stabbed themselves with a syringe.

(Again.)

“It’s never too early for Connie to have an opinion on old Russian men,” Doug chuckled, but he, too, was settling down as the heaviness of night began to sweep across them both.

He sighed fondly and took her hand then, intertwining their fingers on top of the blankets.

Priyanka wasn’t much of a touchy-feely person, but her husband absolutely was, and she knew, from all the coagulated years of having been married to him, that this simple gesture was about being close to her, about reacquainting himself to her presence.

So she didn’t let go.

Instead, she squeezed once, resting her head against the backboard of their bed and closing her eyes for the first time in what felt like days. The darkness was nice and inviting, blanketing her head like a cozy throw.

It was just all the thoughts, buzzing like bees at the velvety, black edges, that made it so unbearable.

Patients, charts, and procedures.

And Steven Universe most of all.

She worried for him constantly now that he was in the hospital; she carried his sunken face with her everywhere that she went; he made her half-sick.

He forced her to become undone.

Caring.

It did something to her.

“You look tired, honey,” Doug said softly. “Shall we put a nightcap on the evening?”

Priyanka opened her eyes again and nodded ever so briskly. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and let out a small, exacting sigh.

“I think that’d be in order,” she agreed, and it was a sign of her exhaustion that she acquiesced so easily. Usually, he had to plead with her to close down shop for the night.

These weren’t usual times.

Without letting go of her hand, her husband twisted away and turned the latch of his lamp with a click, thrusting half of the room into darkness.

And she was about to do the same when the rectangular light of her phone caught her attention again.

Instead of just one message from her intern—a perky blonde named Dr. Stephens—now she had eight of them in total and a missed call.

The doctor always put her phone on silent when she drank her nightly tea so she didn’t have to be a doctor for fifteen minutes.

She could simply be Priyanka.

Her stomach clenched.

An influx of messages was never a good thing; her mind raced ahead of her; it anticipated the worst.

“Hon?”

Doug’s questioning concern pressed against her side, and Priyanka found herself clenching his hand all the tighter as she used her free one to pick up the phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe and clicking the message app with a suddenness that was brutal.

Monday, 10:57PM:

Dr. Stephens: DR. MAHESWARAN!!!!!

Dr. Stephens: UNOS JUST CALLED.

Dr. Stephens: WE HAVE A KIDNEY FOR STEVEN UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dr. Stephens: Car crash on the lower East Side. The donor is brain dead, but all their other organs are viable.

Dr. Stephens: And they’re a match for Steven.

Dr. Stephens: Seriously. I’ve checked and double-checked.

Dr. Stephens: This is our person.

Dr. Stephens: The surgeon at Empire Gen’s gonna perform the harvest procedure tomorrow morning at 10AM, and I told them you’d be there.

In the half-darkness of her room, Priyanka held that phone aloft like it was priceless gold and let out a breath she had been holding for a very long time. Her shoulders heaved with the sensation of it, the feeling, the emotion.

Of goddamn relief.

Warm, sweeping, glorious relief.

A kidney.

Steven Universe was getting a kidney.

#bellow diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #steven universe #pearl #amethyst #garnet #priyanka maheswaran #yellow zircon #blue zircon #jenny pizza #kiki pizza #greg universe #bismuth #s: steven universe #mimik-u #flower child #hoooooo boy this is a long ass chapter

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crystalwillow · 4 years ago

Text

Paint By Numbers, Part Two

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Hayley McAllister (F!MC)

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: I have included Japanese (from google translate) in this fiction, but I have put the English underneath in brackets () so that everyone can still read. I hope you all enjoy Part Two of Paint By Numbers.

Tagging: @mrs-ramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @brycelahelalover @deansmyapplepie @eleanorbloom

====================

It had been a few weeks since their last date and Ethan had been looking for a reason to take Hayley on another one, and they were in the perfect place for him to give her an early birthday present he was sure she would love. They had been in Japan for four days now, mainly just been settling into their hotel and spending time with Hayley’s Godfather, Takeshi. As Hayley was getting ready, Ethan sat on the bed in their hotel room looking over the menu to see what they could get for breakfast.

“Hayley?!” Ethan called out.

“Yeah?!” she shouted from the bathroom as she dried her hair. She looked in the mirror at Ethan as he entered the bathroom and gave her a soft smile.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked as he leant on the door frame.

“Um..” Hayley said thoughtfully, continuing to dry her hair. A few minutes passed in silence as Hayley thought before she finally turned the hair dryer off, placing it back on the side. “Can we go out for breakfast today?” she asked as she turned around to face Ethan who now stood up straight from the door frame and opened his arms to pull her into his embrace. She smiled as she rested her head on his chest and he kissed the crown of Hayley’s head gently, almost as if he was to add any more pressure she would break.

“Of course. Did you have a particular place in mind?” he asked with a smile. She smiled back at him as they looked at each other in the mirror lovingly. “Your beauty never ceases to blow me away.” Ethan continued, gently stroking her hair.

Hayley smiled back, a small yawn escaping her. “I thought we could go to the market and see what we could find.”

“Are you sure? You seem like you’re still a little tired.”

“I am. But I want to experience as much as possible with you whilst we’re here.”

“And I’d rather do that with a fully rested Hayley. We aren’t in Boston right now, we don’t have medical responsibilities.”

“I thought you had an important conference call tomorrow afternoon before dinner?”

“Well.... other than that.”

They shared a chuckle before reluctantly pulling away from each other to finish getting ready and head out into the streets of Japan. As they left the lobby of the hotel they held hands tightly and smiled at each other, taking in the sights as they walked past them. When they reached the market, Hayley perked up and let go of Ethan’s hand, skipping ahead to look at all the produce.

“We should cook for my family tonight.” she beamed at Ethan as he caught up and stood behind her.

“Yeah? What are we cooking?”

“Udon?”

“Yeah. I’m cool with that. What about some beef too?”

“What kind of beef?”

“Hmm. What if we made a bunch of snack foods?”

“mmm. maybe.”

“Nigiri sushi?”

“Is that what you want?”

Ethan smiled guiltily as Hayley turned to look at him. She giggled quietly and pecked his cheek before turning back to the vegetable stall they were standing at. They spent another hour wondering around the market before making their way to Takeshi’s to make them lunch and hang out for the day.

As they arrived, Takeshi was outside cleaning the hallway as he spoke to himself in Japanese.

“Fūrigan! Nani no yaku ni mo tatanai gesshi dōbutsu! Hahaoya ga manā o oshieta koto wa arimasen ka? Firushī-”

(Hooligans! Good-for-nothing rodents! Did their mother's never teach them manners?! Filthy-)

Ethan looked on with wide eyes at the empty packets of various kind and half eaten fruit that was all over the floor before turning to look at Hayley.

“Goddofāzā! Nē! Kono konran o nokoshite kudasai, īsan to watashi wa sore o katadzukemasu.-Chū ni haitte yasunde mimasen ka?” Hayley interjected as she approached Takeshi and gently placed her hands on his arms as she looked at him with a kind smile.

(Godfather! Hey! Leave this mess, Ethan and I will clear it up. Why don't you go inside and rest?)

Takeshi looked back at Hayley thankfully and gave her a hug and single nod before turning to Ethan who waved.

“Uh.. Hello.” He smiled

“Hello. Let me take those bags inside for you.” Takeshi offered.

“Oh. No, that’s okay. Thank you. I’ve got them” Ethan smiled back and followed Takeshi inside before coming back out to find Hayley picking up the mess.

“You know.. It still amazes me that you’re pretty fluent in Japanese. How come you didn’t tell me?”

Hayley smiled at him. “There was really no need. I mean... you speak English so...”

Ethan let out a hearty chuckled that rumbled slightly in the back of his throat as he held out his hand. “Let me hold open that bag. We’ll get it done quicker if we-”

“Divide the problem. I know.” She laughed, finishing his sentence.

It didn’t take them long before Ethan was tying the bag and tossing it into the outside trash bin, then heading inside with Hayley to wash his hands so they could prepare the food.

Later in the day, Hayley’s father and step-mum arrived at Takeshi’s just as dinner was in the final stretch of being prepared. Hayley welcomed them inside and lead them to the sitting room where she offered them and Takeshi a glass of wine whilst Ethan stayed in the kitchen and watched over the food.

“So dad, Annie. How has your day been today?”

“It’s been good. We went into town and browsed the market.” Hayley’s father, Alex, replied.

“We managed to find you a couple of presents for your birthday and Christmas.” Annie added cheerily.

“Are you excited for your birthday this year-” Takeshi spoke but was interrupted by a shout from the kitchen

“UH HAYLEY!” Ethan shouted, Hayley’s eyes widened in horror and she ran to the kitchen where Ethan stood watching the pan that had caught fire.

“Oh my goodness!” Hayley exclaimed as she covered the pan with its lid before she grabbed the salt and started throwing it over the fire. “Well don’t just stand there babe! Wet a large cloth!” she shrilled at Ethan, who immediately obeyed her order.

“Hayley? Is everything-” Takeshi’s voice entered the kitchen as the flames luckily died out as the towel was smothered over the flames

“Everything is under control.” Hayley answered, assurance firm in her tone.

Takeshi gave Ethan an unamused look before turning his gaze back to Hayley and nodding stiffly and heading back into the living area. Ethan hug his head as he let out a heavy sigh, clearly ashamed with how he just handled himself and the situation. Hayley turned to him with fire in her eyes, but they softened a little when she saw the expression in his face and noted his body language.

Despite the small delay in their schedule, Hayley, Ethan, Annie, Alex were all seated at the dining table, with Takeshi sitting at the head of it as always. They held hands as they shared a prayer before digging into the vast array of food Hayley and Ethan had spent the majority of their day preparing. The atmosphere between Ethan and Takeshi felt a little tense due to the earlier mishap and in turn was offsetting the whole mood of the table. Although she tried her best to smoothing things out it only ended with Ethan and Takeshi getting into an intense heated argument before Ethan stormed out, Hayley of course excusing herself and running after him. By the time she had caught up however, he was already at the end of her Godfather’s road thanks to his long legs which carried him in large strides and when he was mad he always walked fast which resulted in Hayley running to keep up with him.

“Ethan babe, wait!” she shouted, lunging herself forwards and grabbing his wrist which forced him to stop.

“I’m not going back in there.” Ethan snapped, crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Would you listen to yourself for Christ’s sake! You’re a grown man and you’re acting like a 3 year old who has to share their toys. AGAIN!” Hayley screamed at him. He looked back at her with that dumbfounded look he always wore when she dared to yell at him like this. But tonight Hayley wasn’t in the mood for that. “You know what? I’m not doing this again. Not right now. If I can’t enjoy a nice meal with my family and boyfriend present, I’ll enjoy it alone. Go back to the hotel Ethan. And don’t wait up for me tonight. I’ll be checking in somewhere else.” She spat in disgust, Ethan watching her go as she turned on her heel and stomped back towards Takeshi’s house. Once she was out of sight, he sighed as his shoulders sagged low and hung his head in shame as he reluctantly slinked back towards the hotel that he was staying at.

Staying true to her word, Hayley didn’t return to the hotel room that night. It was the worst night’s sleep Ethan had endured for a while. It was cold, lonely and insufferable as the hours ticked by. Ethan stayed up until the early hours of the morning, reading one of Hayley’s books. He caught himself and what he was doing when he reached chapter six of the book, snorting at himself drivingly. What was he doing reading a romance novel? At 2 am no less. Rubbing his tired eyes he closed the book and slid down the bed, under the covers and hugging the book to his chest as his eyes slowly closed as sleep overtook him. The next day after Hayley had spent half of her morning back at Takeshi’s house, smoothing things out with him, she made her way back to the hotel and knocked on the door of the room she was staying in with Ethan. After about five minutes of him not answering she made her way to the front desk, asking for someone to come and open the door for her so that she could get inside. When it was opened the thanked the member of staff and stepped inside as they headed off back down the hall to work and slammed the door a little louder than was needed, but in the bed Ethan didn’t flinch or move a single muscle. Nor did he make any kind of sound to signify that he was in the room. Hayley then started worrying as she walked to the bedroom, but her scowl was back on her face when she saw him lying there fast asleep.

“ETHAN!” she shouted, but still he didn’t moved or make a sound.

She sat on the bed next to him and checked his pulse, which was fine. She then listened to his airways as best she could but those too, were fine. So she resorted to the last thing she could think of doing that was within reason. She stood next to his side of the bed and put all her strength into violently shaking him.

“Ethan Ramsey wake up!” she shouted

Finally, she elicited a grumble in response.

“You have that meeting today and you’re still in bed. Get UP!”

He let out a longer groan and a lowly mumble of “I don’t wanna.”

Hayley let out a frustrated growl before slapping his arm and storming out of the room and sitting on the couch in the living area of the room and turning the TV on. Fifteen minutes later Ethan sauntered in and plopped down in the space next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. Though she was now super pissed off with him and pulled away which earned a look of hurt and confusion from Ethan.

“You should shower and get ready for your conference call.” she said coldly.

A little baffled but mostly hurt, Ethan rose to his feet with a sigh and made his way to the bathroom and took a shower before getting ready and sitting at his laptop waiting for his conference call as he listened to Hayley laughing at the TV. The conference call went smoothly and by the time dinner had rolled around, Hayley had already made her way downstairs to the restaurant, he changed his suit quickly and made his way down to meet her. The first half of the meal was carrying a similar tenseness to the night prior as they ate their starters and then tucked into their steaks. Sighing, Ethan swallowed his bite and looked at Hayley.

“Babe. Why are you still ignoring me? Was what I done last night really that bad?” he asked, confusion in every crease on his face as well as in his gaze as he looked at her.

“You almost set his kitchen on fire Ethan.” She answered bluntly.

“I tried to apologize.” He countered

“That’s not the point. He now thinks I’m dating an incompetent man, regardless of your position as a doctor.” Hayley finished the last sip of wine in her glass before continuing to eat her steak. The tension between them dissipated after that brief conversation and the rest of dinner passed in silence that had a sadness in it.

Ethan paid the bill after they finished their dessert and they headed back to the room in a distanced silence and Ethan watched as Hayley went to the bedroom and shut the door. Sighing he made his way to the couch and spent about two hours watching shows he couldn’t fully understand before making his way to bed, only to find Hayley curled up on her side of the bed on top of the covers and still in her dress. Pain etched on her face, and his heart broke into a thousand piece as a tortured high-pitched sound of pain escaped her lips. He carefully slipped her out of her dress and into one of his t-shirts before sitting at his laptop and finding local things to do that could cheer her up and earn her full forgiveness. He felt like he had been searching for hours when he finally stumbled upon the perfect thing.

The following week Ethan, Hayley, Alex and Annie visited Fushimi Inari in Kyoto, the shrine of a thousand doors and rode on a bullet train through the mountains. Then finally the day of Ethan’s surprise for a Hayley came around. He was up with the sunrise and got ready for the day ahead, waking Hayley up 4 hours after he got up with breakfast before making sure he has their keycard in his wallet as Hayley grabbed a shower and got ready. About an hour later they were at their destination with Hayley blindfolded as Ethan lead her through the gates.

“Okay babe?” Ethan asked

“IIIIII... am fine. But where are we?” she asked.

“That would ruin the surprise.” Ethan replied.

Hayley pouted as her grip on his hands tightened until they came to a stop.

“Okay... I’m going to remove the blindfold now. Just, don’t scream when you see where we are.” He explained. Hayley frowned at the odd request, yet smiled as she noted the hopeful excitement in his tone as he spoke to her. She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light around them then gasped with a sharp inhale as she looked around at the foxes surrounding them.

“What? ... Why? ... Where? ... How? ... Wh- what?” she asked with a stutter as she took it all in.

“I ummm... know foxes aren’t always going to be there to help me fix everything. But this felt like something you couldn’t miss and.... there’s something else. You can... cuddle them.”

“I get to cuddle foxes?!” she asks in a quiet shrieky tone, tears of happiness glistening her eyes as she looked up at Ethan who was beaming back down at her.

“You sure do.” He said with a slight tilt of his head, still beaming at her. She jumped into his arms and hugged him tight, burying her face in his chest.

“Thank you.” She said, although her voice was muffled by the fabric of his clothes.

“You’re welcome. Happy early Birthday, Hayley.” Ethan said as he rubbed her back soothingly before she lowered herself back to the ground.

“Early birthday?” she quizzed.

“Yeah... I’ve got you gifts at home in Boston but... this felt like a special moment we could share that I couldn’t pass up and, well... It seems like a pretty great gift for you.” He explained.

Hayley giggled and shook her head lightly. “You will always include the details huh?” she questioned.

“I thought that was imperative to your knowledge of me by now Hayley McAllister.” Ethan quipped.

“It is. Maybe I just like to imperatively point out the obvious, Ethan Ramsey.” Hayley quipped back quickly, making him shake his head in bemusement as they held hands and followed a tour guide around the Zao Fox Village. After following the tour guide around an absorbing a lot of information, it was finally time for Hayley and Ethan to cuddle the foxes. Hayley was immediately in her zone and crouch down to cuddle with the adorable creatures as they surrounded her, whilst Ethan approached the tour guide.

“Excuse me. Um.. yes. Hello. Could you take a few pictures for us? But could you mainly focus on my girlfriend? I’m making an album for her final birthday present to give her and I know she’d love pictures to commemorate her time here.” He asked as he held out his phone.

“Oh! Of course!” the tour guide smiled, and Ethan smiled a thanks at him as he took the phone.

“Ethan, come and cuddle this one. She’s so soft.” Hayley cooed.

Ethan joined her and crouched down, cuddling the foxes too and Hayley watched as his facial features completely relaxed. She was in complete awe of the moment as she watched Ethan seemingly come into an element of his own, and a tear slipped down her cheek as a sudden pang of guilt entered her chest. He hadn’t looked this relaxed in a few days and it was all her fault for being so stubborn and holding a grudge against him that was petty, all to prove to him yet again she will never be taken for a fool. He looked up at her smiling, but it vanished when he saw the single tear sliding down her cheek.

“Hayley.... what’s wrong?” He asked. A deep concern etched on his face.

Hayley sniffled and chuckled a little, taking a deep breath before speaking her next words with a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine. These are... happy tears.” She wiped them from her face as Ethan’s smiled returned to his face.

“I knew you’d like this surprise. But my intention with it wasn’t to make you cry.” He half-joked with a small chuckle.

Hayley chuckled with them and they shared a kiss before cuddling with the foxes again and with permission, taking a couple of selfies to post on Pictagram later that evening.

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

After their visit to the Zao Fox Village, Hayley decided it was only right for Ethan and Takeshi to settle things between themselves over the kitchen incident. Afterall, it was only an accident and in reality a stupid grudge for two fully grown men to be holding against each other. So, they took a taxi over to Takeshi’s, Hayley was given a warm welcome upon arrival whereas Ethan was given a cold and distant “hello.”

Inside the house, Ethan and Takeshi argued for close to 3 hours with Hayley playing mediator and finally shouting for them to be quiet, explaining they were giving her a headache by going round in circles. Eventually the two men apologized to each other. Ethan for almost setting Takeshi’s house on fire, and Takeshi for holding the grudge longer than necessary in the first place. When they left the house and started walk back towards the hotel, everything felt a lot lighter and like it was back to normal. They were almost back at the hotel when Hayley tugged on Ethan’s hand, pulling him towards some arcades.

“Hayley. Why are you bringing us here? You know I hate loudness and crowds.”

“I do. But I also was to play some games and.. you need to win me one of those!” Hayley exclaimed with a pout as she pointed to a machine with cute plush dolphins inside it. Ethan looked between the machine and the cute face outing up at him before letting out a tired sigh, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance.

“Fine. But after this, we go back to the hotel. Yes?”

“Okay!” Hayley exclaimed and danced of father into the arcade and got some money in a little pot then started playing on some machines. Five machines and many loses later, Hayley had enough left for 3 machines. She was wondering around looking for one to play one and caught sight of Ethan across the room still trying to win her a dolphin, a smile came onto her features as she noted the concentration and determination in his eyes, was reflected in his facial features. When she turned around she gasped as she spotted the perfect machine to play on. She rushed over to the machine, which was full of plush elephants, as she looked at them she decided. She would win one for Ethan. Losing on this machine simply wasn’t an option. She inserted the money which was enough for 3 machines all into the one she was standing at and settled as she set her focus on winning an elephant.

After an agonizing 20 minutes, Hayley was down to her final go. This was it. She had to win an elephant. She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes and repeated to herself 3 times “I’ve won the elephant. Thank you for letting me win the elephant.” then turned to the machine, her game face now in full action as she moved the claw towards an elephant. She held her breath as the claw descended towards the plush toy and closed it’s shiny metal talons around it. Time seemed to slow as Hayley watched the claw lift the elephant higher and higher, then towards the win zone of the machine until finally, she registered the machine going off loudly as she had won the elephant.

“ohmygod...” she muttered under her breath. “...I done it. ... I DONE IT!” she shrieked as she took the toy out through the flappy door at the bottom of the machine. As she looked up after turning around she saw Ethan making his way over to her, wearing a smile of his own and his hands behind his back.

“Hey!” she greeted with a smile and bright eyes.

“Hey. Good job babe.” he smiled back as he nudged his head towards the plush elephant in her arms.

“Thanks. I-it’s ... for you.” Hayley blushed, holding it towards him.

“For me?” Ethan queried.

Hayley nodded enthusiastically with widened eyes.

“Thank you.” he murmured with a smile.

Hayley’s smile faded as she realized the irony of the situation. “I thought it was perfect for you.”

Ethan chuckled as he took it, looking it over. “An elephant? But why?”

“Because an elephant is the most observant animal in the world. Their brains are bigger than the brains of any other land animal, and the cortex has as many neurons as a human brain.” Hayley told him with a smug smile.

“Okay. Well, I’m not really sure where to put this.” he admitted.

“I mean, in your hand is pretty perfect.” Hayley noted, smiling at him as he looked at her with a rare soft and tired smile of adoration.

Ethan chuckled slightly and pulled her closer for a hug. “You’re the best girlfriend I’ve had.” He muttered into her hair, planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly, pulling back from her. “I won it by the way.” He smiled, bringing his other hand from behind his back to present a baby blue dolphin.

“Ahhh!” Hayley exclaimed happily as she took it, cuddling it to her chest. “Thank you babe!” she continued snuggling into Ethan’s chest happily.

“You’re welcome. Can we go back to the hotel now?” he yawned as he rubbed Hayley’s back.

“Yeah. We can.” she nodded as they let go of each other, facing each other with a smile before heading back to the hotel hand in hand.

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

Before they knew it, their return day had arrived, and they were doing last minute checks to make sure they had packed everything they brought with the plus anything extra they brought and were taking home.

“I’m kind of sad we’re going home today.” Hayley said as she checked the drawers in the bedroom.

“You are?” Ethan asked, his hand instinctively touching the side of her face and pulling her towards him. “Do you want to stop on the way to the airport and get a cup of your favourite tea?”

“No. It’ll be okay. I’ve just had so much fun here. I don’t want to leave.”

“I know how you feel. The thought of going back to Edenbrook now scares my brain too.” He kissed the top of her head with a chuckle.

“Scary is one way of describing it.” Hayley joked, closing the final drawer.

“Everything taken out from those?”

“Yep.”

“Good. The wardrobe and bookshelf in the living area are empty of our things too.”

“Awesome. I’ll check the bathroom and then we should be clear to checkout if we have everything.” Hayley sighed with a sad smile.

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

16 hours later, Ethan and Hayley were back in Boston sitting in the comfort of Ethan’s bed as they snuggled together and just enjoyed each other’s company as they let their phones charge on the bedside table. They were drifting off when suddenly Hayley’s phone came to life with her ringtone, scaring them both awake and sending their heart rates soaring.

“Jesus. I am so sorry Ethan.” She yawned, scrambling from the bed to retrieve her phone. “Oh. It’s Sienna, I better speak to her quickly.” Hayley smiled apologetically as she excused herself from the room and headed to the kitchen.

Ethan sighed and looked around his now lonely room when he spotted the luggage in the corner when they had left it upon arriving home, spotting their plush toys sitting atop their suitcases next to each other. With a long sigh he pulled his tired body from the comfort of his sheets and slinked over to pick up his elephant plush Hayley had won him before getting back into bed with it.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered to himself as he got comfortable and cuddled the stuffed toy.

About an hour later Hayley came back from her call with Sienna, which turned out to be Sienna, Elijah and Aurora. “Hey, sor-” she started to apologize but stopped herself when she saw Ethan fast asleep cuddling the plush elephant close to his chest and his hair slightly tousled from where he had moved around a little bit. Tip-toeing back to the bedside table, Hayley placed her phone back on charge and the turned to the luggage, grabbing her dolphin before snuggling in bed next the Ethan.

“Goodnight, Ethan.” She whispered as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Ethan smiled softly in his sleep as he scooted closer to Hayley and she smiled back, wrapping her arms around him protectively before closing her eyes and going to sleep.

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

Two days later after they were fully recovered from their jet lag, Hayley and Ethan returned to work looking as refreshed as the felt as they walked briskly down the halls of Edenbrook side by side towards the diagnostics office. Although when they arrived home they were dreading going back to work, they couldn’t help the matching smiles they were wearing due to feeling glad to be back. Ethan had already planned to do his dirty laundry that evening, but Hayley had agreed to meet up with her roommates at Donahue’s that night after their shifts to tell them all about her holiday to Japan with Ethan, Alex, Annie and Takeshi.

The day kept both Ethan and Hayley busy to the point where they hardly had a second to stop and only saw each other briefly for a new case that came through to the diagnostics team around mid-afternoon, when they shared a walk to the elevators.

“How are you?” Ethan asked her as they walked at a brisk pace.

“Good. Super busy.” Hayley answered as she jammed the down button on the wall.

“Are you coming back to mine after Donahue’s?”

“Oh. I was... I mean, I can. If you want me to.”

The truth was, Hayley had gotten so used to being around Ethan all the time, the thought of now leaving his side and having her double bed all to herself again felt like an impending loneliness she didn’t want to face.

“No. It’s up to you, Hayley. If you want to go home with your friends then feel free to do so.” Ethan said just as the elevator dinged.

Hayley put her hand in her coat pocket and pressed a key into Ethan’s hand. “It’s my locker key. Go into my bag and take out my apartment keys and wait for me at mine in my room. I’ll try and keep them out until at least midnight so you have a chance to do your laundry and pack an overnight bag.” Hayley spat out as the elevator emptied.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes. 100% sure.” She confirmed with a kiss and then stepped into the elevator.

“Why are you kiss me as if I’m leaving your side? I’m getting in too. Doofus.” He chuckled.

The day continued to pass in a busy hustle and bustle as doctors and nurses alike tended to their patients. Later that night just as discussed and planned, Ethan went back to his apartment to do his laundry and pack an overnight bag, whilst Hayley went to Donahue’s with her roommates plus Bryce, and kept them there for as long as possible.

“...So how long was the grudge held between Ramsey and your Godfather?” Bryce enquired.

“Longer than is acceptable by anyone’s standards?” Hayley replied before downing the last of her drink.

“But how long?” Jackie echoed

“Over a week.” Hayley answered bluntly.

“Fell free to tell me to shut up, but it seems pretty stupid to hold a grudge for that long over a fire that didn’t spread.” Aurora commented.

Hayley shrugged and stood up from her seat. “My round. Same again?” she asked and the whole table nodded and with a smile and nod back Hayley turned on her heel and headed over to the bar. “Hey Reggie. Same again please!” she exclaimed politely with a smile just as he phone started vibrating in her pocket.

Ethan ❤

FaceTime

Hayley chuckled to herself as she took a seat on a stool at the bar as she waited for her drinks and answered the call.

“I thought you hated face calls?” she quizzed straight away

Ethan scoffed mockingly. “Hello to you too babe.” He snarked with a slight smirk and Hayley laughed.

“What is it?” she asked as Reggie placed the tray of drinks in front of her.

“Which rooms is yours again? I don’t want to open the wrong door.”

“Oh my God.” She gawffed, “THAT’S why you’re facetiming me?”

Ethan stuttered as a blush visibly creeped up his neck and spread onto his face . “Uhhhhhh...”

“2 door on the right. The one right next door to the bathroom.” Hayley told him as she placed the money in Reggie’s hand and waited for the change.

Ethan walked in and turned the light on, closing the door behind him. “So.. how Donahue’s tonight?”

“The same as always. I’ve missed this place to be honest.”

“We’ll have to go together tomorrow night.” Ethan said as he dumped his bag on the floor next to Hayley’s drawers and mad himself comfy on her bed.

“Thanks Reg.” Hayley smiled as she took her changed from him and pocketed it before picking her phone back up. “What was that babe?” she asked

“I said. We’ll have to go there tomorrow night. Together.”

“Yeah. Of course.” She smiled at him but noted the sleepiness in his sapphire orbs. “Well I should go. You know how rowdy this lot can get, and, you should get ready for bed. We’ll be leaving here soon.”

Ethan sighed with a little pout.

“Ethan. You’re a grown man, we’re having one more round after this and then we’re leaving. Stop pouting at me.”

“I buy you a family trip and you’re still mean to me.” he joked behind a yawn.

Hayley chuckled and turned towards her tabled as she head someone shouting her name. “COMING!” she shouted back then turned back to her phone screen. “Look. I have to go, but I’ll be home soon okay?”

“Fineee.” Ethan huffed like a little child. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you!” Hayley chimed

“I love you too” Ethan responded, and they waved goodbye and them hung up.

Hayley returned to the table and placed everyone’s respective drinks in front of them, then took her seat.

“So. Hayley. Dr. McAllister.” Elijah stated, taking a sip of his beer. “What else did you do on your delightfully long break?”

Hayley spent the next 45 minutes talking about what she, Ethan and her family done whilst in Japan.

“And what was your favourite thing?” Sienna asked as Hayley took a sip of her drink.

“I’ll have to give you my top 3. Fushimi Inari in Kyoto, the shrine of a thousand doors. That was an amazing experience. Then we went into the heart of Kyoto and visited a bamboo forest. But Ethan is behind the thing I think I enjoyed the most. I got to cuddle with foxes at the Zao Fox Village and they were so ridiculously adorable. They even made Ethan smile after frowning for so long because of the whole feud, grudge thing.” Hayley answered.

“Wait. Dr. Ramsey smiled at foxes?” Bryce asked, stunned.

“Well yeah. He’s human not a robot Bryce.” Hayley snapped.

Bryce held his hands up and widened his eyes in surrender before finishing his drink.

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

Soon, the gang had finished their drinks and were back out walking the cold streets of Boston.

“Hayley?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah?”

“Just out of curiosity. What was your favourite thing at Fushimi Inari?”

“Hmmm...” Hayley pondered. “... Probably just getting to experience it with my family and Ethan. But you guys will see more in our little travel vlog we’re putting together. We got blessings from the high priest there to film a little bit of footage for it.”

“You got Ramsey to be in vlogs?!” Elijah exclaimed

“Elijah come on. This is Hayley we’re talking about. The woman can get anyone to do anything.” Aurora pointed out as they rounded the corner onto their street.

“That’s true. Very strong and resilient is our Hayley. Not to be taken for a fool either.” Elijah said back.

“You’ve got that right!” Hayley exclaimed and they all laughed as they headed inside, waving goodbye to Bryce who carried on towards his complex not too far away.

Inside the apartment, the roommates all gathered in the living area with glasses of water.

“Alright guys, tomorrow’s a big day with the Governor coming back to the hospital. Let’s down these and them head to bed. We’ll need all the rest we can get.” Hayley slurred slightly.

Every cheersed their water before downing it then saying goodnight and heading to bed. When Hayley entered her room, Ethan looked at her tiredly out of one eye from her bed.

“You’re home.” He whispered huskily with a tired smile.

“Yeah.” Hayley smiled. “How did your laundry night go?” she continued in a hushed tone as she changed into her pyjamas

“Good. I just need to fold it all when I get home tomorrow.” He replied, watching her intently.

“I’ll come and help you.” Hayley stated as she slid into bed next to Ethan. Cuddling into his warm chest.

“Thank you.” replied Ethan

“No problem.” Hayley yawned. “Hey. Ethan?” she asked.

“mmm?” he hummed

“I’ve been thinking. And we’re sort of doing our own paint by numbers with our relationship.”

“How so?” he quizzed, eyes closed yet ears alert and listening intently.

“Well. Our relationship is the blank canvas. And each activity, event or tragedy we’ve been through, are going through currently, or are going to go through together in the future. Is the colour we’re adding to paint our own beautiful picture of what we perceive love to be.”

A silence stretch between them and for a moment Hayley thought Ethan had fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke. “Then I want our love to make a picture that’s as beautiful as you.”

“Could it be an elephant and fox standing on a shoreline, looking out at a dolphin?” Hayley asked.

“It can be whatever you want it to be babe.” Ethan responded.

Hayley smiled into his chest and snuggled closer as Ethan pulled the covers around the securely.

“Goodnight babe.” Hayley whispered.

“Goodnight beautiful.” Ethan yawned back, wrapping his arms protectively around Hayley as they finally settled for the night.

#choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry studios #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #dr ramsey x f!mc #dr ramsey #pb oph f!mc #oph f!mc #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #choices fanfiction #dr ethan ramsey #dr hayley mcallister #dr mcallister #dr ramsey x dr mcallister

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childofhelios · 4 years ago

Text

“flower blooms and falls scars cure and buds shoot”

ship: Hades!Doyoung x Persephone!Taeyong

characters: Doyoung, Taeyong, with appearances by Jeno and mention of Zeus!Johnny and Poseidon!Ten

rating: general/teen for slight injury and mentions of blood, also slight possessiveness from Doyoung but he regrets it very soon after

genre: fluff with angst for like .5 seconds

word count: 2.8k

title was taken from seventeen’s fallin’ flower, which is really good to listen to while reading! also, tell me if there are any mistakes bc i did convert a piece of my other writing into this fic. but anywho enjoy and feel free to send a message/ask about what you think about it :DDDD

“Taeyong, please just come out.” I lean my forehead against the black, walnut door where I can hear him franticly running around her room. “We can talk about this like civilized people.” I hear him begin to mutter under his breath and I catch him saying my name and a few unpleasant phrases that I wish weren't associated with my name, but alas. “Taeyong, don’t you think you’re being a little immature? You’re acting like a child!”

I almost fall forward as the door opens suddenly. Taeyong’s eyes were ablaze with fury as he stares at me in front of his door.

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Doyoung. I just didn’t expect to get kidnapped by someone that I’ve never met, starved for six months, accidentally eat a pomegranate, and then be stuck in this terrible, dreary place with no other company other than the dead and you. And I would rather spend time with the dead!”

“Believe me, the dead are worse company than I am.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” I jolt at his loud voice echoing through the manor. I’ve had his presence for over six months, and I’m still not used to having people around me. To having an actual living, breathing person in my company. He sweeps a hand through bubblegum pink bangs and takes a deep sigh. “Doyoung, I beg of you. The humans need me. Without me, they’ll die. I need to go back on the surface to assist my mother.”

I roll my eyes. “Humans are made to die. It’s how they're made to be. Plus, She’s is a goddess that has been around for centuries. She was able to assist humans without you there. Besides,” I take a hold of his hands, his beautiful tan contrasting against the blueish pallor of mine, “didn’t you say you loved me?”

Yanking his hand out of mine, he says, “I said I loved you a little. And if I knew that it would go straight to your head and you would try to use against me, I wouldn’t have said it. If you had given me the chance, maybe it could have grown. Maybe I would have been able to become your bride.”

“Taeyong, you can’t leave. I finally got used to having someone with me. You can still become my husband.”

“Doyoung. You can’t just keep me here because you’re lonely.”

I sigh and rise to my full height, towering over him slightly. “You’ve misunderstood me. You can’t leave. I forbid it.”

He scoffs and pushes past me. “Haven’t you heard of free will? I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.” Before he rounds the corner, something whizzes by his face. He whips around, furious with a small cut on his cheek beginning to spill golden ichor. I stride up to him and yank the sharpened ruby out of the wall.

“It seems that you've forgotten who I am. I am Doyoung, the god of the underworld and riches. I am one of the oldest gods to exist and I’ll be one of the last to disappear. Did you think you’ll be able to leave that easily? This is my domain and I decide what comes in and out of it. And you,” I crush the ruby and let the powder run through my fingers like sand, “aren’t going anywhere, my little lotus. Now, you can walk to your room on your own, or I can have Cerberus escort you back there. Your choice, my dear.”

If looks could kill, I would already be six feet under as Taeyong stares up at me. Slowly, he steps away and walks in the direction of his door. I watch as he leads a trail of ichor and shuts his door with a forceful SLAM!

I begin walking towards my quarters. As soon as I close my door, my knees give out. “Gods, why did I do that? You know that he’s right. We can’t force him here; he’s going to be unhappy and what’s the point of having him here if he’s upset the entire time?” I stare down at my hands as they tremble slightly. “I injured him. On purpose, I made him bleed.” It’s a weird feeling to be shaken by blood when that’s what I deal with every day. I see the most gruesome of murders and war causalities but injuring a minor god has me shaking in my boots. I wobble over to my sink and submerge my face underwater. I came up gasping for air and catch my reflection in the mirror. At the rate I’m paling, I’ll look more like a ghost than the people outside the manor. My eyes resemble the darkest of obsidian and have deep eye bags underneath them, my face is sunken in as if I’m a beggar from the streets, and my hair is matted in every which way. The longer I stare at myself, the more I can see the monster Taeyong must see.

“JENO!” My voice booms and seconds later, a pile of bones bursts through the door. No, quite literally, a disassembled skeleton falls through my door and onto the ground before me. The skull, sporting a flat cap, turns towards me and grins widely.

“Master Doyoung! What can I do to help you today?”

“Please tend to Mr. Taeyong from now own. First, make sure his wound is taken care of. Second, make sure he eats, sleeps, and does whatever else he needs and wants to do. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely, Master. He’s in the right hands. Or, um, bones.”

“No tricks, Jeno. I don’t think our guest would appreciate that. And neither would I.”

Jeno’s voice takes on a mischievous tone. “Guest? Don’t you mean groom, Master? Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

“I’m not sure what you mean. But I do know this.” I pick up the skull and stare fiercely where the eyes would have been. “If you do anything to upset her, I will crush your bones into powder and use it as incense for the next 30 years. Do you understand?”

“Would my bones even last that long?”

“Do you really test me right now?”

“Fine. I understand. Now, can you please put me back together again?” I roll my eyes, but I set down the skull in the middle of the bones. My eyes glow a bright gold and with a wave of my hand, the skeleton assembles once more. He fidgets with his cap.

“Now, that’s much better!”

“What happened to you?”

“Cerberus tried to use me as a chew toy. Again.”

“I knew there was a reason he’s my favorite.”

“I would take personal offense to that but, he’s my favorite too.”

“Go to Taeyong. Make sure she’s alright.”

“Your wish is my command, Master.” As he walks out the door, his bones clatter and then I’m left in silence. I fall back into my bed, wondering if I should just apologize to him directly. I did act unreasonably, and I shouldn’t have let my anger explode like that, but I don’t want him to leave. As I lay there, I slowly drift off.

The next month is difficult for multiple reasons. First, immediately after I send Jeno to take care of Taeyong, he throws a fit and makes flowers grow out of every hole in his skeletal body. Then, he refuses to eat with me or even look at me. I would walk down the hall and he’d sprint into a side room just to avoid me. And let’s not even get started with the escape attempts. You would think after about 10, he would give up. But no. He has tried to escape more than 50 times. Fifty. I swear to the gods, he’s making me grow gray hairs just from stress. Then we have Johnny, Ten, and practically the entirety of the Pantheon breathing down my neck trying to bring her back. And I’ve explained to them multiple times that it’s the law of the underworld and I can’t change it simply because one young goddess is down here. But now, Thunder Thighs and Kelp-for-Brains can’t grasp it for some reason.

I sit behind my desk, grasping my head as I glare at the piles of scrolls in front of me. You would think death was pretty cut and dry, but no. I have to deal with making sure bodies end up with families, people don’t act on stupid grudges and become monsters to kill people, or something else entirely stupid. I pick up one scroll when the door cracks open.

“Jeno, I thought I told you if you disturbed me, I would- “

“Let Cerberus year me apart and keep me as his chew-toy, I know, I know. But it’s urgent.”

I drop the scroll in my hand. “If it means I can get out of my work, I’m all ears.”

“Mr. Taeyong…. He’s disappeared again, Master.”

The pounding in my head worsens. “Oh.”

“Shall I go after him? Or maybe send some people after him?”

“No, just leave him. If he’s this persistent to leave, then we should just let him go.”

“But, Master!”

“Enough, Jeno. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a rest before I break the law of my land.” I stand and stagger my way to my bedroom, ignoring Jeno’s shouts and how my head worsens with each step I take. Ugh, this whole affair is such a mess. I shouldn’t have gotten myself involved with him in the first place. I close my eyes and the next time they open; the sky had faded from the morning’s light dusk to the afternoon’s midnight blue. I rise with my robes wrinkled and sleep in my eyes. I find my way to the kitchen and snag an apple before heading to the endless pile of scrolls I left. On my way there, I see Taeyong’s door slightly ajar.

“Jeno, I thought I told you about going through other people’s things? You never-” Instead of seeing that insufferable skeleton with a guilty grin, I find Taeyong unpacking a bag. “You’re back.”

“Not by choice, unfortunately.”

“Oh? I thought you had left. Did Jeno stop you? I told him not to and not to send anybody either.”

“No, my mother stopped me. Talked about how if I came back before my time here was finished, you would kill any human that even breathed wrongly. So, now I’m back here. I’m sure you’re ecstatic about it.”

“No!” He looks at me suspiciously, setting down the robes he took out of his bag. “I knew you didn’t want to be here, so I thought not going after you once you had left would finally let you be happy. But it appears to be untrue.” He shakes his head and turns back to his clothes. “If there’s anything I can do that would make it easier for the next five months, please tell me.”

“I don’t know. Not being here would be pretty great.”

I wince. “Other than that?”

“Answer this for me. You say you want me here, but you act like a shriveled prune every time I’m near. Why?”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”

“I mean this! This is both the most you’ve ever spoken to me and the nicest you’ve been to me. It’s been a month and we’ve barely talked.”

“So, what should I do?”

He walks past me to the door and looks back at me from the doorframe. “Show me. Be sincere and I’ll see if I’ll want to stay.” He walks off and I’m just left stupefied in her room. I all but sprint to my office and start scrawling out two letters.

I summon Jeno and give him a message. “Give this to Ten and Johnny. Tell them to respond to me immediately.”

If immediately means 6 days later, I fear for their subjects. As I skim through both of their letters, I see the same pattern of making fun of me, attempting to help, and then making fun of me again. I should have expected it from Airhead, but I thought Ten would be at least somewhat helpful. I throw both of their scrolls in the fire because there was no use in keeping those around. I slam my head into my desk a couple of times, wallowing.

Over several days, I tried every trick known to man and god. But it either ends with me making a fool of myself or just making Taeyong even angrier. I squat in the garden and hang my head in defeat. The artificial sun in the sky beats down on my skin and my hands are covered in coarse dirt.

“Master, are you sure you don’t want us to help you? We have staff for this sort of thing.”

I look back at Jeno. “For the fifth time, Jeno, I truly don’t mind doing this. At least, this is something to distract me from my work. I think my headache is getting better too.”

“That must be true, sir, because you haven’t stopped smiling since you started planting. “

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I look towards the lavender sprigs sitting next to me. “I was just thinking of Taeyong’s reaction when he sees this. I hope this brings a little bit of happiness to his stay here.” I continue planting the lavender until there was a cluster in the section closest to the entrance. At this point, I’ve only put half of the flowers in the ground. But I feel pride swell in my chest as I look at the tiny cluster I planted.

“What are those?” I whip around to see Taeyong standing on the steps.

“Oh, um. I was just planting some flowers in the garden. I know you’ve missed nature so I thought I would try to bring some to you.”

“Wouldn’t they just die?”

“No. I’ve been trying to grow different types of flowers down here and lavender was the only one that survived.” He continues to stare at me with a mysterious look in his eye. After a couple of seconds, he speeds down the stairs and gets on his knees in front of the sprigs I just planted. “What are you doing?”

He snaps at me. “Shut up.” If it had been anybody else, they wouldn’t have been saying another word for the rest of their lives and even after that. But I close my mouth and I study Taeyong and he studies the lavender. His hands glow a soft pink and the lavender turns vibrant, almost energized. “There. That should help it for a little while.”

“What did you just do?”

“Just gave it a little pick-me-up.” I nod in understanding and Taeyong moves where I had placed the other flowers. “Where were you going to put these?”

I point at the other side of the garden and he strides over there with the flowers in hand. “Ah, Taeyong. There’s no need. I have this under control.”

He scoffs. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for the flowers because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Isn’t it just simply putting the plants into the ground and tending to their needs?”

“Oh, gods. It’s so much more than that. You must be gentle and treat them with the utmost care. You move slowly and fluidly. Come here, I’ll show you.” I squat next to him and see him sprinkling dirt to cover the roots. “Doyoung?”

“Yes, Taeyong?”

“Did you know that there’s a language just for flowers?”

“Really? Fascinating. Is it possible for me to learn? Can you understand it? Wait, has the lavender been speaking the entire time?”

Taeyong giggles and the artificial sun shines brighter. “Not that kind of language. Each flower has its own meaning. Roses are passion, daisies are innocence, carnations are good fortune, etc.”

“Wow, then what’s lavender?”

He stares directly into my eyes, the mysterious look back on his face. “A lot of things but to name a few: purity, calmness, and... devotion.”

The sun beats down harder, feeling like ants are crawling over my back. “Oh.”

“Mhm. That’s why they’re one of my favorite flowers. They have a pure message, they’re absolutely beautiful, and they’re able to grow anywhere.”

“Oh.”

“Doyoung, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

His eye twitches and throws a handful of dirt at my chest. “You’re a fool. I’m saying I return your affections. I acknowledge your feelings and feel the same way. Gods, I’m saying I love you and I’m willing to become your husband.”

It didn’t fully register so my response was: “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Let’s just continue planting these before it gets too dark, or at least darker. Then, we can discuss this later.”

And so, we spent the afternoon tending to the flowers and as the day faded to night, we fell asleep with “I love you’s” littering the air like the sweetest and most intoxicating perfume.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct aus #nct greek au #doyoung fanfic #taeyong fanfic #doyoung x taeyong #helios writes

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fluidityandgiggles · 7 years ago

Text

An idea about Deceit.

I feel like the fandom has forgotten that Deceit is not a villain. I mean, I did for a very long time too. My major fanfics for the fandom include him as some sort of abusive villain.

But... lying comes in many shapes and forms. And people have presented them already, so I present a new one. One that I haven’t seen yet.

Deceit as Patton’s baby brother.

Now, this comes from the fact that not all lying is bad, and in fact it is a crucial step in a child’s development. Kids learn to lie at around three or four years old and all have their reasons to lie.

And so, I present to you. Just a tiny fic on the matter. (For the sake of it, Deceit’s name is Dorian in this. I keep changing his name but do I care? NOPE.)

—————

“Hey Patton.” There were light touches on Patton’s shoulder. “Hey Patton.” A tiny squeak. “Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Pat-“

“Hey kiddo.”

Dorian, Patton’s five-years old brother, was clutching his rubber duck (aptly named Daveed) and looking straight at him with big, scared eyes.

...oh.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Mm-hmm...”

“Okay, come on. Jump in.” Patton rolled on his back and Dorian immediately crawled under Patton’s blanket, a huge smile on his face. “What’s that smile about, kiddo?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Patton’s phone lit up.

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: Princey’s ideas are completely chimerical and I refuse to work with him on this project any longer without Patton and Virgil’s intervention.’

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: well then i refuse to work with mr pocket protector on this as well!’

His friends were crazy.

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS TWO IN THE MORNING GO TO SLEEP’

“Okay, Dorian. Come on. Tell me about your nightmare.”

“No!” Dorian’s duck gave a sad squeak.

“Dory, kiddo, you kinda have to if you want me to help.”

‘JD, Chandler, go to sleep. We can do the project in the morning. I promise I’ll bring brownies! xx’

‘Lolo💙💙: Good night, Patton. I’m sorry we woke you up.’

‘Oh, you didn’t, honey! My brother did. See you at school! And don’t kill each other!’

“Come on. You came here because of your nightmares? So I wanna hear them.”

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟: tell him i said gnight and give him a big kiss aight pat? night!’

“There was a giant,” Dorian started. “In the nightmare. And it was rainbow, and it was scary, and it was running to me, and...”

“You mean chasing you?”

“Huh? yeah, yeah... that’s what I meaned. So the giant was...”

Dorian started rambling about his nightmare and Patton could honestly feel himself falling asleep all over again, but he couldn’t allow himself that. At least not while Dorian was talking.

‘Lolo💙💙: I can see you’re still online, Patton. Is anything wrong?’

‘Yeah... my brother just talks a lot, that’s all. I’m going to sleep, I promise! Love you ❤️❤️’

“...and then, and then... I forgot.” Dorian was starting to doze off. Good. Patton had his hand in his brother’s hair, trying to keep from falling asleep himself before his brother...

His mom was going to be so mad when she finds out when they fell asleep.

——

“What do you mean, your brother lied about having a nightmare?”

“I mean my mom came to wake me up today and started the morning with a ‘you have to stop sneaking out of your room just to have a midnight chat, Dorian, it’s not good for you’. I’m serious!” Roman was fiddling with the red scrunchie on his wrist as Patton paced around the stage. ”He’s only five, Roman! What’s going to happen to him if he keeps losing sleep like that? That’s not healthy!”

“Wow, Patton... your brother lies to you - your kid brother lies to you - and you’re worried about his sleep schedule?!”

“Calm down, Chandler, this isn’t the thunderdome just yet,” the familiar monotone voice called, accompanied by footsteps. My savior is here! “A steady sleep schedule is very important for the circadian rhythm.”

“Dorian woke me up at two in the morning to have a talk and told me that he had a nightmare. Good to see you too, Lolo.”

“I take it you’re tired.” Patton grunted. “Why don’t you set boundaries?”

“Have you met my brother?”

“Yes, in fact. I have been over to your house quite some-”

“That’s not what I meant, Lolo.”

“I think what puffball here is trying to say is, his brother is the cutest kid in the world. Would you deny him anything? I know I wouldn’t!”

“It’s not even that, Roman. It’s just...” Patton started pacing again. “He’s the cutest kid, yes, but he’s also so set on breaking the rules all the time!”

“And I think we all know who he got that from, puffball-Veronica.”

“I just know that he wouldn’t care about any boundaries I might set.”

“Do you think Ms. Caulfield would mind you three hanging on stage like that?”

“Goddamnit, Virgil...”

“Great to see that Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler and Jason Dean are all breaking the rules as should be,” Virgil noted with an awkward smirk. One of the rare ones. “You know we’re not rehearsing here today, yeah?”

“We all came here for break before rehearsals, Mr. Stage Manager, please.” Roman threw his scrunchie on Virgil. “My dear darling boyfriend, please make sense of the situation at hand.”

“Yes, Roman?”

“Patton’s adorable little kid brother Dorian lied about having a nightmare last night just so he could have a midnight talk and all Patton is worried about is his sleep schedule.”

“Wait, he really did that?” Patton nodded, biting a nail. “Wow. I’m oddly proud.”

“Not you too!” Roman let out a loud groan. “This kid lied about-“

“You literally stayed up until three thirty last night to text me about Dan and Phil playing the sims, Romano. You’re not one to talk.”

“Do you have no shame accusing me of such a thing, Virgil? I thought you loved me!”

“Princey, I do love you. But you’re just so insufferable sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

When rehearsals started a bit later, it seemed as if Roman forgot all about what happened.

——

“Hey kiddo,” Patton said with a giant smile as he got home. His brother was in the living room, watching cartoons. Patton assumed their mother was in her office painting mandalas, which would’ve been the only explanation as to why Dorian was watching cartoons.

...while sporting a huge black eye.

“Patton! I’m watching something and I don’t know what it is but-“

“What’s that shiner you got over there, Dorian?”

“It’s nothin’. I runned to a door handle thingy.” He pulled his shoulder, squeezing his rubber duck.

“Do you need some ice to put on it, buddy?” Dorian shook his head. “Okay. How about donuts? Would they make you feel better?”

“Yes! But not from where mommy gets the donuts because that’s where Jake Baker’s mommy works and Jake Baker doesn’t like me and he hit me today and pushed me and I felled on a swing and I don’t wanna go around him.”

...ran into a doorknob, huh.

“Didn’t you go to Dahlia’s today, honey?”

“No. I didn’t want to.”

“Patton, sweetheart?” Their mother called from her office.

“Hey, Mom!”

“How was rehearsal today, sweetheart?”

“It was good! I’ll tell you at dinner!”

Things mostly fell into silence after that, Patton joining Dorian in watching the cartoon (Voltron, Patton noted, one of the cartoons he did not want Dorian to watch without him around). And then...

“Can I have cereal, Patton?”

“Of course.” Patton got up to the kitchen. “What did you have for lunch, Dorian?”

“Uhh... a sandwich. And an apple! From Dahlia!”

“That sounds like a nice lunch, kiddo.” No it didn’t. “Which cereal?”

“I don’t care.” So fruit loops. Alright.

By the time Patton got back to the living room, Dorian’s stomach was growling. Of course. That kid was adorable, but he needed to stop lying.

“Why’d you tell me you had lunch today?” Dorian looked up from his cereal bowl. “You didn’t. I could hear it.”

“But I did!”

“You don’t like apples, Dory. I know you don’t.” The kid’s face started turning red. “Come on. Why’d you lie to me?”

“...I forgot lunch at home. But I did eat the apple!” Patton shot him a look. “I swear I did!”

“Look, kiddo... lying isn’t always a bad thing, but you gotta learn when to.” Dorian looked confused. “You shouldn’t lie about lunch, because not eating isn’t good for you. You shouldn’t lie about nightmares, because sleep is very important for everyone, including you. You especially, Dorian. And most of all, you shouldn’t lie about being hurt. If someone hurt you, you tell me. I’ll make everything okay. Okay?”

“...I did eat an apple.”

“...okay. Let’s go with that.”

——

“Hey Patton.” A light touch on his shoulder. “Hey Patton.” A soft squeak. “Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Pat-“

“Hey kiddo. Another nightmare?”

Patton rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses, looking at his brother as he climbed into his bed. His phone was buzzing with texts.

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: I’ve been listening to Burn from Hamilton for the last hour and a half. Some help would be welcome.’

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: no can do, compadre! youre on your own in this!’

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: @ Lolo💙💙 hey you, out there in the cold, getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me?’

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: @ My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 wow... Thanks on somehow making it worse, Virgil.’

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: anytime, sherlock’

‘Go to sleep, will ya? It’s one thirty in the morning!’

“So... nightmare?” Dorian hummed. “Wanna tell me?”

This was going to be a very long night.

—————

Tag list:

@broadwaytheanimatedseries @illmamnim @royal-raccoon @face-the-ravenclaw @winnie-the-patton

#kylo cant write #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #logicality #prinxiety #deceit is pattons baby brother #you can never rip this hc out of me #so much fluff and cute #baby deceit is precious okay #i love this idea so much

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allen-messenger · 7 years ago

Note

I already read some of your drables and i think your writting is amazing, keep up the good work ♥. If you're not busy, may I request some headcannons about a MC that has a resting bitch face 24/7 but it's actually veeeery soft? RFA and Saeran please!

Thank you so much anon, you are so lovely. Your supportmeans a lot to me. Also, congratulations for sending me my very first request ♥ I got a bit carried away, so my HC might be a bit long, butI hope you’ll enjoy reading them anyways.

P.S : I’m sorry if the formatting looks awful on the phone app. I tried to make it look better but it appears I’m awful at it.

Kindhearted MC has a “resting bitch face” (RFA + Saeran)

Yoosung★

Simply put, the boy was so damn worried.You seemed so cheerful in the chatroom, so why did you look annoyed now thatyou were finally meeting in real life? Was he the only one who had been lookingforward to seeing the other? Were you disappointed in him? Was hedisappointing?

Thousands of negative thoughts crossed hishead. Argh, maybe he should have listened to Zen. Maybe he should have workedup instead of staying in front of his computer 24/7, eating Leys chips anddrinking Ponta. Maybe Jaehee’s was right, maybe he was too short, and maybe hisworn-out hoodie was tacky. And… what if you thought he wasn’t wild enough? Hehad no idea how popular men like Zen acted. Should he start calling you “babe”or “lamb”? Should he start bragging about his looks…? Ah, he suddenly feltincredibly gloomy. He didn’t have half of Zen’s looks, so there was no way hecould ever become as attractive as him. And obviously you would bedisappointed, you were going out with him instead of dating a godlike musicalactor!

“Yoosung… Is something wrong? You lookpale.” You asked, worried.

“I’m sorryI’m not good enough, but… I’ll try to become a better man for you! So… so…!” Hepanicked.

“Huh…?What are you talking about?” You were genuinely surprised. His reaction was sosudden you weren’t sure what to answer.

“You don’tlook like you are having fun at all… I knew it, I am too normal… I am not acool career woman, a famous actor, a genius hacker, or a corporate heir, thereis no way you would like me… I… I am not even ranked #1 on LOLOL!”

“No! It’snothing like that at all.” You reassured him. “I’m just nervous, it is ourfirst date after all. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m theone who should apologize, MC… I must have looked ridiculous, right?”

“Not atall. You are adorable, Yoosung.” You chucked. “You know… Don’t tell the others,but I think you are the cutest member of the RFA.”

All of a sudden, his cheeks felt warm. Hewas sure of it now, you were the supportive, kindhearted MC who had alwaysaccepted his normal, average self. Your words have always felt like they wereimbued of magic to him. Once again, you had managed to make his uneasiness flyaway. This time, it would be his turn to make sure you would have fun.

Jumin Han

For the longest time, the corporate heirdid not even notice your expression. He had zero interest in his employees’ appearanceafter all. The only thing he evaluated them for was their professionalism,their skills, and how useful they were for the company. Although he stronglyappreciated your meticulous work, he did not have a personal interest in you.You were an employee – a really competent one -, and he was a practicalexecutive. That was all there was to it.

However, one day, he overheard negativegossip against you. Some of your coworkers were talking about how contemptuous andarrogant you were, constantly looking down on them. Progressively, they startedstraight up laughing at you, saying someone as condescending as you wouldprobably die alone.

In a single sentence, the corporate heirbrought back peace in the corridor.

“If you have the time to slander your colleague, go back to work. Now.This is your first and last strike. Next time I see youdeteriorate our company’s work environment, I will personally make sure yourdesks are emptied.”

Seeing your coworkers laying low for awhile gave you a surge of relief. Actually, you had been contemplating quittingyour work because of the heavy atmosphere you felt around you. Your gaze mighthave looked harsh, but in truth, you wished you could have got along with yourcoworkers. Although most colleagues acted neutral towards you, a small groupexuded hostility every time you uttered a word. Nevertheless, you had stayedbecause the company worked on interesting projects – also, the pay wasundeniably satisfying.

After this event, Jumin slightly paid moreattention to you. It wasn’t noticeable, but for an instant, he examined yourexpression, trying to find what could have led your peers to think you weredisrespectful towards them, in vain. He just couldn’t understand the reasonbehind their gossip. Your expression did seem to show a bit of disinterest, butyour meticulous reports obviously showed how passionate you were about yourwork. The executive skimmed through the folder you held out to him.

“Your report is satisfying, but I would like you to develop on theeffects our project would have on the environment. Assistant Kang researchedsome data regarding this point, ask her to share the file with you.”

“Understood. Thank you for your time, Mr. Han.”

“Close the door before leaving. While you are here, I’d like to say thatyou can address any complaint you have about your work environment directly tome. You are a valuable asset for our company. It would be a shame if C&Rwere to lose you because of some pests.”

“Thank you, Mr. Han. I will take my leave now.”

For thefirst time, you smiled at work. Jumin Han was said to be a cold, insufferableemployer, but to you, he was just a practical executive who cared about hisworkers in his own way.

Jaehee Kang

The first time you met Jaehee was at oneof Zen’s musicals. You were both seated on the front row, next to each other.The storyline wasn’t that original, but Zen’s acting mostly counterbalanced thescenario’s flaws.

You were completely oblivious to theglances Jaehee threw you during the performance. Usually, the assistant wouldhave been dazed by the spectacle. But today, her curiosity sometimes made herlook away from the actor’s performance. Zen had a solid fanbase by now, andfront row seats tickets for his shows were highly difficult to obtain. Jaeheeknew for a fact that some fans were willing to spend more than 500$ to gettheir hands one of those prized tickets. Because of that, she was bewilderedthe person sitting next to her seemed so dissatisfied in the musical. At times,you even seemed straight up irritated. Even more surprising, you vigorouslyclapped at the end of the musical, giving the staff members a standing ovation.

After a few minutes of contemplation,Jaehee asked you if you had enjoyed the musical.

“Oh, please don’t mind me if I am wrong. You just seemed irritated and…I was just wondering if the show did not suit your taste?

“Ah, no. I… just usually look this way.” Usually, being called out foryour expressions made you upset. However, seeing how Jaehee’s eyes wereshrouded in remorse, you understood that she only meant well. “Thank you forworrying, though. I actually liked the musical, especially the part where the detectivediscovered the culprit’s identity.

Conversing with you, Jaehee realized thatyour cold expression contrasted with your loving nature. Although your eyesseemed to be looking down on others, you were full of admiration for theactors. More importantly, she was grateful you noticed her uneasiness and turnedan awkward conversation between strangers to a passionate debate about Zen’smusicals. She now had no doubt that you were compassionate, and much morecourteous than she was.

ZEN

A while ago, you discovered a websitewhere many Zen’s fans showered him with compliments. At first, you were veryexcited about participating in anonymous conversations about the handsomeactor.

However, when you became his full-fledgedgirlfriend, you had to stop lookingat the forum threads. Messages full of malice towards you were being spammedall day.

“She’s totally in for the fame. Pathetic.”

“She’s dating the most beautiful actor on Earth but she looks so annoyedlol, what a bitch.”

“Hate her. I would definitely give Zenny so much more love lolol ♥”

“Fire her! My love Zen needs a lovingmanager, not some random frigid girl. Guys, let’s make a petition so she getsthe fuck out of here!”

“They’re such a bad match. Seriously,is Zen blind or something? She always looks mad lol.”

“A princeand a bitch faced frog lololol”

Needless to say, you were devastated. Itused to be such a welcoming community, so why did it become that way? And whywould they judge you solely on your appearance? Of course you’ve never beenannoyed by him. At contrary, you loved him. You really did, even if youexpression wasn’t always full of love.

Feeling unworthy of him, you avoided Zen’scalls and only went in the chatroom to talk about the party. After a few days,the actor himself waited in front your doorstep for you to come home.

“Zen…? What are you doing here?”

“Babe… You wouldn’t take my calls, so I came here. I was worried sick.Did something happen?”

He gently wiped the lone tear falling along your cheek.

“Tell your knight everything. Don’t cry, princess. For you, he wouldfight off dragons and witches, so please don’t cry.”

Zen caressed your hair while you told himabout the hate directed towards you. Your sentences were interrupted by manysobs, but he still understood.

“Honey… Don’t mind what they say, please. You are the kindest andmost-loving soul I have ever seen. Those people don’t know who they are talkingabout. How dare they say I am blind? They are the ones who should run to thenearest optician. You are so beautiful you don’t need the princess attire toshine! Your knight will protect you from those dirty mouths, so don’t worry,alright?”

You chucked at Zen’s burst of anger.

“Okay… I love you.”

A week later, your knight in shining armorkept his promise. During an interview, he firmly asked his fans to stopspreading negativity towards you.

“She is the woman I love, and I can’t bear seeing her hurt because of mycareer. I wish you could see past her expression. If you could, you would seethe golden heart hiding behind it.”

Hisdeclaration was well received by his fanbase, who created apopular forum where ill-messages against any of his fans, including you, wouldimmediately be deleted.

707

At first, you were a bit reticent aboutjoining the RFA. It was understandable: you were just a good Samaritan whowanted to give back a phone to their rightful owner, and you ended dragged inan association you had never heard about. Watching the CCTV at Rika’s apartment,Seven assumed you seemed annoyed because of the situation you unwillingly endedup in.

As V’s slave, he was the one who gatheredinformation to pressure you into a joining the group. Because of that, he felta bit guilty and tried to cheer you up with silly jokes. He wasn’t sure hisattempts were any successful. Although you wrote he was funny, he could stillsee your irritated expression whenever he looked at the CCTV. Even worse, youreyes were sometimes full of disdain while you chatted with the RFA. He didn’tmention it to anyone, but seeing you warming up to the group members, includinghim, while keeping your scornful glare intimidated him a bit. Did you have badintentions towards the RFA, after all? Should he redo the background check toensure you didn’t have any link to the hacker?

After seeing how much your kind wordsencouraged the members, Seven started to believe your tenderness was real.Witnessing how you pushed every single member forward, the hacker couldn’tdistrust you anymore. His instinct, on which he had sometimes relied on tosurvive, told him there were no lies lurking in the shadow. Placing confidencein V’s decisions, Seven also gradually opened up his heart to you. Actually, itwas hard not to. It wasn’t every day he could find someone who appreciated his oh-so-funnyjokes, after all. Whenever your condescending expression turned into a smilebecause of his jokes, he felt his heart race, just a little tiny bit.

Saeran

When he was a child, the only expressionsSaeran had ever seen were his mother’s fury and his brother’s compassion. Afterhe entered Mint Eye, he stopped looking at people. Even though his eyes laid onthem, he couldn’t really see their faces. His mint-colored irises were meant tofocus on computer screens, not on people. Other believers wouldn’t help himmake his dearest wish come true, but his hacking skills would allow him to havehis revenge on that damn redhead.

Because of that, he had absolutely no ideawhat a “resting bitch face” was like. When he saw your expression, he simplyconcluded you were despising him, and quite rightly. He was the hacker who, insearch for a useful tool, had led you to the trapped apartment, after all.Afterwards, he shot your association’s leader, and was treated like a victim,even though he was the monster. How ridiculous.

However, Saeran couldn’t comprehend whyyou would still visit him every single day without fail. You would silentlyopen a book and read in his company. In truth, he didn’t really dislike your presence.Your visits were peaceful, soothing moments during which he didn’t have to seethe redhead he loathed so much. Contrary to the therapist or to Luciel, youdidn’t expect him to say anything. Other than the faint sound of turning pages,you didn’t make any noise. Yet, he felt uncomfortable you were forced to seehim every day, for a reason of another. If you despised him, why didn’t youstay in the nice, cozy home he’s never had? If you hated him that much, whywouldn’t you stand further from him, like all those stupid nurses? Your oddityraised some concern within him, and he finally asked “Why are you coming here?”.He sounded so bitter, yet so sorrowful. His voice was the voice of anabandoned, broken human being.

“Why… you say…” His question wasunexpected. After carefully weighing your words, you answered “There is noparticular reason. I just thought you would be lonely, alone in this emptyhospital room.”

For a few seconds, the white-haired man searchedfor an answer. However, no words came to his mind, so he stayed silent, andquietly thought that you were similar to his brother after all. Even though hestrongly wanted to resent you, it was so difficult… Your kind nature,contrasting with your expression, made it so hard for him to feel any animositytowards you. So, maybe he would silently enjoy your presence. Just for a littlewhile.

A masterlist can be found here.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagines #mysme #mm #rfa #yoosung #zen #jaehee kang #jumin han #707 #luciel #saeyoung #saeran #unknown #request

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folklore-musings · 7 years ago

Text

Holding Onto Nothing (Part two) Bughead AU

Summary: One late night while Jughead’s working in the town library he’s putting away an old worn out book when he sees the glinting of silver sticking out between torn pages. Tucked away inside he finds an old charm bracelet. Perplexed by its intrigue Jughead brings it home with him. The next day he sees this girl - almost as if from a dream - come into his life. Only its not a dream and she’s not a figure of his imagination, but an actual ghost in search of a way to move on to the afterlife and she needs Jughead’s help. Can Jughead help solve the mystery of Elizabeth Cooper’s death, or will he end up facing the same fate as her own?

Read on AO3 here

Jughead forced Betty out of the bathroom so he could shower and brood with his thoughts on his own. After his usual routine of washing himself, Jughead stood under the scalding water and wondered if maybe whole morning was just a dream. Maybe he was still asleep in his bed, tossing and turning from these strange series of events. And maybe the bracelet and the book – those were part of the dream too. Maybe none of it was real and when he woke he’d be just plain Jughead again, not Jughead the ghost whisperer.

“This isn’t a dream, Jughead.”

“Wha-“ Turning too fast, Jughead slipped on the bathtub floor, grabbing the curtains to spare his fall but that didn’t help. “Turn the water off! TURN OFF THE WATER!” Jughead laid tangled in a crumpled heap in the bathtub, furious about the fact that she’d been spying on him. He watched as the knobs rotated by themselves towards the off position, the shower head now only dripping from the remains. “Show yourself, Betty.”

Before him she emerged, gracefully sitting on the edge of his bathtub. “Hi there.” She spoke softly, playing with the ends of her ponytail.

“Don’t ‘hi there’ me. You didn’t tell me you could make yourself invisible when you wanted! Or that you could read minds. I didn’t sign up for any of this.”

Betty threw her head back in laughter. “I wasn’t reading your mind Jughead, you were talking to yourself in here. Supernatural and magical are two completely different things.” She explained matter-of-factly, standing up and straightening out her skirt as she did. “Now if I were you, I’d untangle yourself from those curtains and dry off!” Betty tossed him a towel hanging from the rack on the wall. It landed on his head with a dull thud.

“Will you get out of here?” Jughead grumbled, struggling to stand and tearing the shower curtain from his slick body. Deciding it best to just let it lay there, Jughead wrapped the towel around his waist and used his hand to wipe the mirror clear of fog. He shook his head, knowing fully well that combing through his hair was utterly useless. His dark locks had a mind of their own sometimes.

Once he was dressed and refreshed Jughead plopped down in front of the TV and began to flip through the channels, landing on an old rerun of Home Improvement. Amused Betty sat on the floor right in front of the TV, lifting her hand up to touch the screen and causing the picture to distort. “Look at the colors! So bright and vivid!”

Jughead stared at the back of her head in blatant curiosity. “Betty, in what year did you die?”

Betty spun around on her bottom and tucked her legs beneath her to face him. “1944.”

Jughead looked from Betty to the book beside him on the table, and back again. “Do you remember the day?” He asked inquisitively.

“October 30th.” She said softly, fumbling her thumbs in her lap. “That’s actually what I need your help with Jug.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, what’s that?” He silently cursed himself, just realizing he never even knew what he promised to help her with. How stupid, making such an empty promise like that. He was smarter than that.

Betty’s voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know how – or why I died.” She paused, finding the plush carpet rather interesting. “The last thing I remember I was sitting in a booth at Pop’s. I had just heard of the news that my sweetheart Archibald, had died in the war overseas. Everything after that I don’t remember. It’s as if I was no longer myself and that I’d – that I’d become someone else entirely.”

Jughead tapped his finger to his chin, mulling over just exactly what Betty was trying to say. He supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to help her out. There had to be an old article somewhere in the library about Betty’s death. Maybe he’d even be able to come across her obituary. He just had to look. “I’ll help you Betty. But right now, I’ve gotta get to work.”

Jughead shut off the TV and grabbed his jacket from where he’d left it the night before, regretting the fact he hadn’t put it in the dryer. It was still damp. “Work? Where do you work? May I come with you?” Betty pleaded.

From the linen closet Jughead grabbed a second jean jacket and tossed it on over his shoulders. “No I can’t have you wreaking havoc all over town.” He squished his feet into his shoes and propped his beanie on his head just the way he did every day.

“You do realize I’ve been lurking around undetected all these years, right? Just because you can see me, doesn’t mean that anyone else will. How do you think I ended up here in the first place?” Betty asked, getting to her feet and shadowing Jughead as he walked over to the door.

“I don’t know, but I do know one thing. You’re not coming with me.” He turned and she was right there on his heels, staring up at him with an annoyed glint in her eyes.

“Then what am I supposed to do all day?” She hoffed, stepping back and sitting at the kitchen table dismayed.

“Play dead.” Jughead said, unlocking the door and turning the handle. “Later Betts.” And he shut the door on her without another word.

◊◊◊

Jughead began his work day finishing what he started last night; putting away all the returned books from the day before. While he worked he let his mind fade, wondering how of all people, Betty’s bracelet and book had fallen into his unlikely hands. He made a mental note to remind himself to ask Betty about it later when he saw her. Something wasn’t right about this, and Jughead was beginning to worry that agreeing to help Betty wasn’t in his best interest.

After he finished the book returns he spent the rest of the day behind the counter, helping Mr. Weatherby assist the community with their booking needs. He offered advice to teenagers about the best books to write reports on and assisted the housewives of Riverdale with their weekly book club. He even led after school story time to the kindergarteners from Riverdale Elementary in their reading of The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything. In the haste of another busy day he almost forgot about Betty, who he thought was waiting for him at home.

Around seven o’clock everything started to dwindle down. The library was nearly empty and Mr. Weatherby was due to leave at any moment in order to make it to his bowling league on time. With all the books from the day returned to their rightful places, Jughead perused the old newspaper clippings section, where Riverdale kept a copy of every Riverdale Register article dating back to the Great Depression.

Once Weatherby was gone, Jughead took a closer look at any articles released surrounding the weeks of Betty’s death. Just when he noticed her name printed in black and white, he heard the bell at the front desk chime, signaling that someone was waiting to check out.

“I’ll be there in a second!” Jughead called over his shoulder. He left the album out on the table and made his way back to the front of the library, cringing every time he heard the bell chirp. “I said I’m coming!” he yelled, reaching the desk and finding, to his dismay, Betty standing there waiting for him.

“Hiya Jughead.” Betty said, hopping up onto the front desk, crossing her ankles and swinging her feet back and forth like a pendulum. “Any luck on the research?”

Jughead groaned and scratched at the back of his neck in annoyance. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait back at the apartment.”

“I did. But I got bored.” She said, twirling her hair between her fingers, curling the blonde locks from knuckle to knuckle.

Jughead stood in front of her with his arms across his chest. “Well too bad, you have to go back. I’ve only got about an hour or two left here, and I don’t need you bothering me while I’m trying to help you.”

“Geepers Jughead, are you always this insufferable?”

With a click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and meticulous raise of his eyebrows Jughead replied, “Yeah, I am.”

Betty hopped off the counter and pushed by him. “If I had known this, I never would’ve left the book here for you to find in the first place!”

Well that answered that question he’d been wondering about earlier in the day. “I knew it! Why me Betty? How long have you been watching me now? A day? A week? How long Elizabeth?” He was seething as he said her name. Jughead felt a whole new level of violated. He felt personally attacked. Had she been following him around, maybe even watching him when he slept?

Betty took a step back, as if he’d slapped her across the face with his words. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be dead. To be this void of a spirit that just wanders through town, never able to leave. You are the first person I’ve interacted with in 50 years. And I chose you. I remember the first time I saw you in that ridiculous crown hat of yours, sitting alone at Pop’s reading a book while you nursed a soda. You looked so lost Jughead and so alone. And I just thought that maybe you would somehow be able to help me. Because just like me you were lonely. You have no friends Jughead. You sit home alone on your days off and watch old sitcom reruns or listen to your awful music, if you can even call it that. Besides for the people that step foot into this library and Pop’s you have no one. As of right now, I’m probably the closest thing you have to a friend.”

Jughead didn’t want to let her words affect him the way she intended them to, but she was right. He was all alone. And here he was talking to a ghost. She may as well have called him crazy too, maybe even psychopathic. But if there was anything she’d just said that he wasn’t, it was her friend.

“So you targeted me because you think I’m lonely, just like you? Newsflash Betty, everybody’s lonely. In this twisted world of ours there is no such thing as normal or happy. You’re born, you live and you die. You should stop feeling so sorry for yourself, you’re lucky you got out when you did.” Jughead was fuming. He stalked past her and headed back towards the editorials. The sooner he solved the mystery of her death, the sooner she’d get the hell out of his life.

Of course she followed him back there. He couldn’t hear her footsteps because she didn’t have any, but he knew she was behind him, waiting to strike back with another insult.

He sat down at the table and relocated the clipping he’d been looking at previously. He heard the chair across from him scuff against the floor as she moved it to sit down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah well, soon this will all be over, and we won’t have to deal with each other anymore, alright?”

Betty nodded silently and watched him as he read. But nothing in the newspaper was making any sense to him. “They say you disappeared. The last day you were spotted before they found your body was October 22nd. There are interviews in here from your parents and your sister Polly. No one knew where you vanished to. And when they found your body in the woods near Sweet Water River, there was no sign or distinction of torture; just a single bullet wound straight through your chest.”

He looked up. Betty had untucked her sweater from her skirt and lifted it up. Just inside her left breast was a hole about the size of a silver dime. “Geepers. I never noticed that before now.”

Jughead tried not stare and did a terrible job at hiding it. Despite the hole in her chest, he got lost roving his eyes over the contours of her body. Betty was a like one of those American Girl dolls his sister Jelly Bean had owned growing up. She had porcelain skin and eyes too blue to be real. How someone could have killed this innocent, and rather annoying girl boggled his mind to no end.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “but how does one not realize they have a literal hole in their body?”

Betty let her shirt fall and grabbed his hand. One moment she was there, solid as ice and the next she was invisible; all he could feel was a draft on his palm, as though he were outside in the middle of winter without any gloves on. “Can you feel that?” Betty asked, reappearing once more. “Can you feel my hand in yours?”

“Not when you’re invisible no, but when you’re here the way you are now I can. Why, can’t you feel me?”

Betty shook her head. “I can’t feel anything Jughead. Remember – I’m dead.”

#bughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #bughead fanfiction #ghost story au #my writings

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 7 years ago

Text

‘Thinking of You’ Chapter 2: Oh, What a Night

Read Chapter 1 Here

Based off of @mrsfrankensteinwinchester‘s prompt: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

A long chapter that takes you through the events in TSOT but with a few alternate changes. Some dialogue borrowed from the episode.

Also, there will be 1 or 2 more chapters...not sure yet lol. I understand this feels fast paced but I intended on it to feel that way as there were months to cover.

Sherlock had been avoiding her and it hurt like hell. She finally broke things off with Tom but not before considering to keep it up a little longer so that she could have a date to John and Mary’s wedding. Deciding to just go alone, that’s when she let him go. She gave him the ring back and told him the truth; that she had not moved on. Tom took it quite well as if he might have already suspected it. If it was obvious to him, maybe everyone else saw through her too.

She hadn’t seen him in two months; well, not exactly true. He would come in for the occasional eye or thumb but never lingered longer than a few minutes. Molly missed him; her best friend. Her mind wandered back to the week he stayed at her flat after his faked death. They had grown quite close during that time, though his behaviour from boredom was insufferable. She remembered their late night talks and the occasional dance lesson. He let her in on his love of dancing and had offered to teach her how to waltz, rumba and tango. It had taken their minds off of things. She missed it.

Sherlock had been wedding planning non-stop with John and Mary. Truth be told, he just wanted the whole nightmare over with, though he did enjoy the origami. It took his mind off of Molly for a little while until the topic of her pending nuptials was brought up by Mary. He tuned her out, not wanting to listen to any of it, completely unaware that Mary had actually been trying to inform him that Molly was no longer engaged. John had insisted he pick a case to help him out of all of this tedious planning, so he obliged and off they went with a thumbs up from Mary.

Molly was shocked to say the least that Sherlock had come into the lab asking for help. She was quite happy to see him but mentally kicked herself for not removing her rubber gloves to subtly show off her bare ring finger.

“You’re a graduate chemist. Can’t you just work it out?” she asked.

“I lack the practical experience,” Sherlock told her with a smile.

“Meaning you think I like a drink?” Molly questioned.

“Occasionally,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“That I’m a drunk,” she added.

“No. No!” Sherlock quickly replied. There was an awkward pause. “You look—“ beautiful, gorgeous, lovely—“well.”

“I am,” Molly smiled.

“How’s…Tom?” it came out as a question. This was it; time for her to tell him the truth.

“Not in the picture,” she said too quickly, relieved it was out in the open.

“Oh? I’m—“

“Don’t,” Molly interrupted. “It’s fine; I’m fine.” They returned to the task at hand, calculating the right amount of consumption for John’s stag night.

Molly had been invited to Mary’s hen night, so there was something to keep her mind off of him. She knew it was too good to be true. A part of her had hoped that once he knew she was a single woman, he would have at least asked her out for chips again, but alas, nothing happened. At least he stopped avoiding her. The hen night happened the day after the stag night, which Molly heard had landed the two of them in jail. She also received a few drunken texts from the detective, assuming that John had secretly upped the intake of alcohol.

Yodu're tmy fahvourite molecule. – SH

Molly, gbe my covasnelt bond. –SH

Smell ilkee strawbersrie –SH

She was determined to have a good time tonight even if it took more than her usual allowance of alcoholic beverages. Hell, she may even go as far as to snog a couple of random guys.

“Molly, it’s just going to be the three of us,” Mary told her, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Three?” she asked with confusion.

“Mhm, just me, you and Mary,” Janine piped up excitedly.

“Where are we going then?” Molly questioned.

“I had Janine plan everything, so I don’t even know,” Mary laughed. Molly’s face scrunched with indecision. “Oh, come on, Molls, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Guess it kinda got knocked out of me,” she answered.

“Oh, don’t you worry, you’ll soon regain it,” Janine assured her.

“Ladies, welcome to J’adore,” Janine smiled brightly.

“Oh, my,” Mary chuckled, looking around the lingerie shop. Molly lingered behind a bit, unsure of their first stop.

“Let’s find you a little something for the honeymoon,” Janine suggested, walking towards a selection of night dresses. Mary turned to give an amused look at Molly who already felt awkward enough.

“Come on, now,” Mary encouraged her. “We’ll find you something for you to wow Sherlock with.” Molly’s eyes widened with fright.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mary, but Sherlock isn’t interested in, well, any of that,” Molly spoke quickly. “We’re not even together.”

“I was just teasing,” Mary told her. “Lighten up a bit, Molls.” Mary knew there was something between them; it was hard to miss the tension when they were in the same room together.

They took turns trying on various night dresses over their own undergarments of course; well, Mary and Janine were. No matter how hard she tried, Molly couldn’t get Sherlock out of her head.

“Molly,” Janine sang. “It’s your turn, pretty girl.” She felt anything but pretty, especially after seeing how well Janine filled out the items she tried on. Molly felt like she could never compare; not in Sherlock’s eyes anyway. Then there was that whole Irene Adler debacle that replayed in her head as well as that Christmas party. Obviously compensating for the size of her mouth and breasts.

“Oh, why not?” Molly agreed. It was Mary’s hen night and she didn’t want to be the downer of it all. She tried on the first nightie that caught her eye; a yellow and black babydoll gown with a ruffled hem. Stepping out of the dressing room, Molly was a bit unsure but her insecurity was quickly erased when Mary spoke up.

“Look at you,” Mary smiled.

“That is adorable,” Janine agreed. Molly decided to purchase it after all.

They went to Mary’s favourite pub next and Molly was quite grateful for it. She was having fun socializing with Mary and Janine. This is what she needed: a proper girls’ night out.

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice said. Molly ignored it, assuming he was talking to Janine. She was close to finishing her third drink. “Miss?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” Molly said. “I thought you were talking to someone else.”

“Would you like to dance?” he asked. Molly turned to Mary who encouraged it.

“Um, sure,” she smiled. They danced but every now and then, Molly would find herself wanting to apply the lessons Sherlock had taught her. Of course he couldn’t quite follow her when she tried, so she settled with him taking the lead. Their dance ended and Molly walked back over to Mary and Janine after the man placed a kiss on her cheek. She felt wrong like she betrayed her own heart; like she betrayed Sherlock.

Sherlock could hardly keep himself from eyeing Molly during the ceremony. Her ridiculously bright yellow ensemble captured his attention. To be honest, he thought her to be quite becoming in it. It was very Molly. She looked a bit happier since the last time he saw her, assuming that the wedding is what brought out her smile. The photos had been taken after the ceremony before moving on to the location of the reception where Sherlock’s best man speech was apparently a hit, though he wasn’t sure how he managed it.

Molly had smiled at him with pure adoration in her eyes during his speech and storytelling. He felt a personal victory being won each time her eyes lit up. Then, of course, a murder was afoot and the photographer was arrested; child’s play. Sherlock had revealed his love of dancing to Janine as well, also feeling as if he had betrayed his heart and Molly in that sense, but he couldn’t dwell on that; not with a waltz to be performed by him.

Molly watched as John and Mary danced to the beautiful waltz Sherlock had composed for them. Her eyes were on him as he performed, admiration clear on her face. A bit of jealousy overtook her when Sherlock tossed the small flower to Janine. She noticed that they had gotten quite close during the course of the wedding. A tear escaped her eyes when he made his vow to ‘all three of them.’ That’s when Molly realized that Mary must be pregnant. Music began playing, a classic that Molly loved, and she danced on her own, surrounded by Mrs. Hudson and Greg.

Sherlock tucked the composition into the envelope on the music stand after looking around for anyone to dance with. Janine had found someone with his help and Molly was now dancing with Gary. Graham? Geoff? Oh, who knows. He made the choice to leave early, feeling lonely in a crowd of people. Molly noticed him make his way out and apologized to Greg before going after him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mister Holmes?” she teased when she caught up with him outside.

“You always see me,” he muttered with a smirk.

“Sherlock,” Molly spoke softly, bravely bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Would you like to dance?” He considered it a moment before answering.

“Lead the way,” Sherlock smiled, allowing Molly to take his hand. They danced outside, as the music was loud enough that it could still be heard. It was difficult for her to maneuver in the grass with heels on, so she kicked them off before returning to his waiting arms. He twirled her around and brought her back in, closer than she’d ever been to him. His viridian eyes gazed into her chocolate ones with a question hidden in them.

“What is it?” she asked, her heart racing.

“You look so beautiful,” was all he said in a soft voice. Molly couldn’t speak; all she wanted to do was snog him senselessly. “Molly, is there—well, I hope there might be a chance that we could—um, a chance that you still want me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Molly smiled. “ "I tried so hard to move on; I did. But the truth is, I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you." She paused. “I always want you, Sherlock.”

“Really?” he asked. “Because I know I’m a complete arse sometimes but I’m trying to be better. And you deserve much better, because, well, Molly, I am besotted with you.”

“I love you too, Sherlock Holmes; I never stopped,” she told him. He held her closer to his chest as they finished their third dance. He lowered his lips to her ear.

“May I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper that sent chills through her. She looked up at him, responding with her eyes. Sherlock kept one arm around her waist and placed the other hand against her cheek before pressing his lips to hers in a tender, loving kiss. Molly’s fingers danced their way through his curls in a gentle manner. Their hearts beat rapidly together even long after they broke the kiss. A chill from the cool night air made her shiver and Sherlock settled his Belstaff over her shoulders before leading her back inside. Oh, what a night, indeed.

Molly’s Night Dress

fanfiction.net | ao3

#Sherlolly #Mollock #Thinking of You #my fanfiction #Sherlock Holmes x Molly Hooper

20 notes · View notes

harajukuhowell · 8 years ago

Text

losing a life (to gain another)

Summary: Dan’s a ghost and a bit of a cock block but Phil likes him anyways.

Wordcount: 11,200

Genre: Fluff & Angst

Warnings (spoilers): homophobia, brief mentions of child abuse and neglect, cheating

please don’t repost!! :)

likes and reblogs are appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

Dan hated his parents. They were horrible to him. Ever since he had come back from his best friend, Tammy’s, roller- disco birthday party and had been caught kissing said best friend’s brother, Michael, in his bed, he lost all of his freedom. He was driven too and from school much to his embarrassment (and those who tormented him’s amusement), he wasn't allowed out on the weekends, he wasn't allowed to use the house phone and he definitely wasn't allowed to see Michael. The worst thing for Dan, however, was the new lock on his bed room door and the bars on his bedroom windows. Most teenagers his age would kill to have a lock on their bedroom door; Dan would have as well, if the lock had been normal. The lock wasn't normal, though. His strict Christian parents decided the best way to protect their son from the devil and his misleading ways was to put a lock on his door which locked from the outside. At 8pm every night, his mother would come into his room, ask him if he was normal yet (to which he always replied with an indignant “I’m perfectly normal, I just happen to be gay!”), she would then slam the door and lock it behind her, muttering about how he was the “devils child” and how thankful she was that god gifted her with Dan’s “perfect” and “angelic” little brother.

Dan’s life got completely turned around. The lock and bars on his room were hellish. He could no longer sneak out in the evenings to visit Michael who was the best thing in Dan’s sad, lonely life.

Michael also suffered a lot after they got caught; his father was outraged that his Michael, star of the prestigious school athletics team, was a queer. Even though Dan and Michael could still talk in school, they didn't dare risk it. Their secret relationship was the talk of the town and everyone, friend or foe, felt like spies set against them.

As soon as people found out that Dan and Michael had eyes for each other, they were both outcasted. Dan fell to the very bottom of the social chain and Michael wasn't much higher than him. His best friend, Tammy, tried to keep talking to him but people told her father and he lashed out at her, leaving her with a sore looking black eye. She stopped trying to talk to Dan after that.

Dan was completely and utterly alone. He tried countless times to talk to his parents but it always ended in either a knock around the head or a recital of some biblical verse. It was no use.

***

Smoke. The unforgivable and undeniable smell of smoke was what awoke Dan. After the smell, he registered the sound of a wailing fire alarm. He coughed and spluttered opening his eyes then immediately closing them again as the pain from the smoke was to great. He reluctantly opened them again seconds later, realising that if smoke was in his room, it probably wasn't the best time to close his eyes. He rushed to the door and rattled the handle but nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, his door was locked from the outside. He then raced to the window, in hopes of climbing out and escaping but no, his windows had bars on them.

It was then that Dan started to really panic.

He was going to die. His house was on fire and there was no escape for him. This was it. Dan ruefully decided to try and open his bed room door one last time in the hope that some sort of miracle would make it open. He reached and tried to turn the doorknob but quickly re coiled thanks to immense heat of. All hope was lost.

His breathing became lighter as he slowly sank to the ground and curled into his knees. Dan tried to listen and see if anyone was coming to save him but the only sounds he was met with were the flames crackling and the fire alarm blaring. Wow Dan thought I knew mum and dad disliked me but letting me burn in a fire? That’s low even for them. He smiled self- deprecatingly.

His eyes lids began to droop. Distantly he thought he heard someone crying; it sounded vaguely like Michael. Maybe it is Michael! Dan’s drowsy brain supplied. After all, he does live next door… Maybe Michael’s coming to save me! Michael will be my knight in shining armour. Dan smiled softly. His bedroom door went up in flames.

With the barricade of his door gone the flames became insufferable and Dan slowly felt himself slip from consciousness. Michael’s not coming Dan thought bitterly as he pitifully breathed his final breath.

-40 YEARS LATER-

“Philip, dear! Come and collect your stuff from the van, please!” Mrs Lester called from out side of the car that a grumpy Phil was currently sat in. Fuck his dad. Fuck his stupid promotion. Fuck his new house. Fuck moving. Fuck-

“Philip! Oh, dear, do take those preposterous earbuds out,” his mother sighed, interrupting his train of thought and opening his car door. “Get up! We’re here!”

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” he grumbled, clambering out of the car. The smile she sent him was returned with a glare.

“Cheer up, pet. It’s time for a new start. How exciting!” With that she grabbed her suit case and flounced away into the house (not without rubbing Phil’s cheek softly first).

Phil sulked over to the moving van and grabbed his most important suit case (a “take the rest of the stuff up to my room, please” was uttered to the moving men) before he walked up the drive way towards his new house and, consequently, new life.

The house wasn't anything special. It was about the 5th of the size of his old one. The house it self had been built in the 60s but his family had completely re-done the interior thanks to a fire that broke out in the mid 70s. Phil didn't know much about the fire; all he knew was that it had caused a hideous about of damage to the houses interior. It had cost his father a pretty penny to get done up; not that it mattered really, his family could afford it. They weren't rich per say, but they certainly were far from poor.

Phil pulled his suit case up the drive way and made his way into his new house (he refused to say home). His mother was standing in the hall with an awed look on her face and tears in her eyes. “Phil! Look how magnificent it is! It’s exactly as I pictured it; your father couldn't have done a better job.” She smiled but it quickly faded. “Pity he isn't here to see it…”

“Fuck sake, mum! You're acting as if he's dead and not on a bloody business trip.” Phil acted annoyed when in reality he was also upset by his dads absence. He didn't dwell on it.

“Language, Philip,” she reprimanded. “You can go up to your room if you wish. Just go up the stairs at the back of the house, it’s through the door at the top of them.” Phil rolled his eyes when she scolded him but still listened to her none the less and walked to the back of the house to find his room.

The house looked amazing from the inside; incredibly modern. The vibe changed as he got to the back though, he walked into the kitchen and saw the door to the back garden. Just to the right of that door was a stair case. The stair case was straight, long and gave Phil chills. Ignoring the uneasy feeling in his stomach, he walked up the stairs towards his bedroom. The top of the stairs were peculiar. There was nothing more than a door directly at the top of them. Phil cautiously opened it and…

Nothing.

After such suspense, Phil found that opening the door to a perfectly normal room seemed rather… anticlimactic. He was not disappointed with his room though. It was reasonably sized, with a queen sized bed along the wall, a desk, a wardrobe with sliding doors, a sofa and a TV. The only thing that was notable about his new room were the windows. They appeared to have the remains of bars on them. Phil shrugged it off, then dropped his bags by his bed before jumping on it and taking his phone out. No new notifications. Great to know my so called best friends care so much about me Phil thought bitterly. He sighed, laying down and closing his eyes.

“Philip!”

Phil groggily opened his eyes at his mothers shrill voice. I must have dozed off Phil thought. He almost screamed when he started to sit up and saw his mother standing at the bottom of his bed.

“I’ve called your name at least ten times! Dinner’s ready, come and eat with me at the dinner table,” she said firmly.

The black haired boy knew there was no point arguing so he stood up quickly and prepared to follow his mum down the stairs. Once stood up, he swore he saw a figure standing behind his mother but as he tried to get a better look, the figure disappeared. He convinced himself he was just seeing things (thanks to getting up to quickly) and headed down to the kitchen.

The pair sat down and tucked into lamb, mashed sweet potato and carrot and coconut salad. They ate in silence, thinking about what the ‘new start’ would bring them.

After eating, Phil told his mum he was going back to his room and hugged her goodnight. She told him not to stay up to late since he had his first day of school tomorrow. Phil rolled his eyes.

It was 2am when Phil’s eyelids finally started to droop and he made the call that he should really get to sleep. He closed his lap top, stood up and stretched. As he stretched he looked into his fully length body mirror and get the fright of his life when he saw someone behind him. He quickly turned to see what it was, only to find nothing there. He turned back to the mirror and saw nothing but his reflection. I definitely need some sleep Phil thought, as he put on his pyjamas and settled down in bed. As he drifted off to sleep he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Phil woke with a start. He looked up and nearly fainted when he saw the unmistakable silhouette of a human. He rushed to turn on his bedroom light, praying that when he turned it on he would see nothing and would be able to deduct that the figure had just been his sleep deprived brain seeing things in the dark. Unfortunately, when Phil turned back around the person was still there. It was a boy around his age with brown hair and golden brown eyes. He looked angry.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” Phil asked, terrified.

“You’re room?” the boy questioned, voice dangerously low.

“Yes. My room. What are you doing in it?” Phil tried to hold his head high and create an air of confidence around him when in reality he was shaking under his covers; fearing for his life.

“This isn't your room.” The boy spoke slowly.

“Yes it is! I just moved in yesterday!”

“Leave.”

“What? You can’t just expect me to leave; it’s 4 in the morning!”

“I don’t care what fucking time it is, I want you out.” The boy slowly made his from in front of his door to Phil’s bedside. Phil moved as close to wall as possible to get away from him.

“I didn't even want to come here. I wish I could leave as well, trust me, but I can’t so will you please get the fuck out of my house before I call the police.”

At the mention of the police the boy seemed to sober up and decide to back off. Phil watched cautiously as the boy slowly reversed towards his bedroom door, never breaking eye contact; still glaring.

Waking up the next morning was even worse than usual for Phil. Not only was he starting a new school but he had to figure out whether there had actually been a boy in his room last night or if it had been his half awake (or asleep) brain playing tricks on him. The most irritating thing about the situation for Phil was the fact that the night before he was certain there was someone in his room; there was no way I could of made him up he reasoned. Now, however, he wasn't so sure. Maybe it was some sort of anxiety dream? His nerves for his new school expressing themselves in an unusual way? It was better believing it was fake because if it wasn’t, that meant that someone had broken into his room last night and that someone hadn't been happy with Phil. The thought alone made Phil shudder.

Phil, rather stupidly, decided not to think about the boy. He had more immediate worries. Like school. He hauled himself out of bed and started searching for his new uniform. Whilst he and his mum were eating dinner the night before, their house keeper had unpacked all of their stuff so Phil didn't need to worry about any of it. Once he had found his new sickly green tie, white shirt and black trousers in his wardrobe, he made his way to the bathroom to get washed and dressed.

“Philip! It’s time to leave,” his mother called from the bottom of the stairs.

Phil begrudgingly grabbed his black backpack, that hung low on his back, and made his way to the kitchen.

“I’ve made you some toast. You can eat it in the car.”

Phil grabbed the slightly cold, buttered toast and followed his mother through the house and out the front door.

“Your dad sends his love,” Phil’s mum said as she reversed down their drive way. “He’s sorry he couldn't be here but he wishes you luck for your fist day!” She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Phil hummed to let her know he had heard what she had said. He turned away from her, plugged his headphones, letting the dulcet tones of Brendon Urie’s sweet voice sooth him. His mum was radiating nervous energy and it was getting to him. He just needed some time to try and relax before his actual death he arrived at school.

The school was massive. Much bigger than Phil’s old one. People were staring at him, whispering about him. Phil would kill to just climb back into his mums car and drive back home. Not his new house. His old one; his home. He tried his best to ignore the people watching him and stated walking towards the towering, old fashioned doors of the front entrance. Here goes nothing Phil thought.

Phil opened the door and walked into the reception. There were green tapestries on the wall; all embroidered with the school emblem, green chairs and a green carpet (which also adorned the school emblem). The walls were made of dark oak wood, as was the desk where the receptionist sat. The receptionist looked slightly older than Phil. He had blonde hair, golden skin and striking green eyes. He looked up as Phil approached his desk.

“Are you the new student?” he asked, looking bored. Phil noticed the bags under his eyes and was reminded of his own; at least he wasn't the only one who hadn't gotten any sleep the night before.

“Yes,” Phil replied, nervously.

“Philip Lester?”

Phil nodded affirmative, too shy to explain that it was Phil and not Philip.

“Here’s your time table and map of the school grounds. Classes start in five minutes. If you struggle with anything, ask a pupil or teacher for help, everyones lovely.” Phil doubted that. “Enjoy your first day!”

Phil smiled gratefully before turning around and walking through the door that lead into the school’s main corridor. The corridor was buzzing with noise and full of people. Phil felt even more people staring at him as he briskly made his way to his English classroom. A few people pointed and laughed, Phil blushed and looked away.

Phil didn't think he had ever been happier to walk into a classroom. There were a few people already at desks but none of them seemed interested by his presence; only one of them looked up when he walked in and she simply stared at him blankly for a second before looking away.

“Philip Lester?” Phil startled and turned around to face the woman who had called his name. She was tall with short, curly, brown hair, fair skin and grey eyes. She wasn't wearing school uniform which lead Phil to believe she was his teacher. “I’m Miss Andrews, I’ll be your English teacher.” Bingo. “You can take a seat up the back, no one sits at the desk furthest to the right so you may sit there.”

Phil nodded his thanks and walked to his allotted seat. The desks were put together in rows of two facing the front. Phil tried not to worry about who would be sitting next to him. The class started to get busier as it got closer to starting (people who noticed Phil as they walked in gave him small smiles). Eventually, every seat in the class was occupied apart from the one next to Phil.

Just as the bell went, a boy walked in. He was tall (possibly even talker than Phil) and had wavy, chocolate brown hair that looked soft to touch. His rosé coloured lips were curled up in a lopsided grin, akin to a smirk. His eyes were the colour of freshly watered soil and had stunning green flecks in them, reminding Phil of the first bloom of a beautiful flower. The green flecks were mixed in with golden ones, similar to sunlight. The boy’s eyes made Phil think of Spring. Just as Spring brought life to so many different creatures, the boys eyes brought life to the classroom. The boy was utterly stunning and Phil was rendered speechless. Phil watched as the chocolate haired god weaved through tables and made his way towards the back of the classroom, towards him.

“Hey,” the boy said as he reached his desk next to Phil��s.

“Hi,” Phil stuttered, slightly star struck.

“I’m Teddy,” the boy smirked, seemingly noticing the effect he had on Phil.

“Phil.”

“Nice to meet you, Phil. I’m sure you'll fit right in.” Teddy’s smirked widened making Phil blush and look away. Teddy laughed softly, smiling at Phil. Phil dared to look back at him and matched Teddy’s smile. He was even more beautiful up close.

“Hey, Phil!” Phil had just left the english classroom and was about to start searching for the gym hall. He turned and looked back into the classroom at the call of his name. It was Teddy. “What have you got next? I’ll walk you to your class.”

His offer brought a smile to Phil’s face. “I’ve got PE.”

Teddy’s smile grew. “Who’s your teacher?”

“Mr. Russell.”

Teddy’s smile grew even wider (Phil didn't think that was possible considering how big it had already been). “Same. Come on, lets go.”

Teddy walked out of the English classroom and started walking down the corridor, heading the opposite way Phil had been originally going. Phil was quick to follow his so he didn't get lost.

The walk to the PE hall wasn't long; it was at the other end of the corridor and down some stairs. The pair didn't talk on the walk but they did occasionally steal glances at each other and would blush whenever the other caught them looking.

“Boys!” someone shouted as they walked in. “You’re late.” Phil looked up and found an angry looking man in sports uniform; their PE teacher. He was thin but muscly and had a receding hair line. Their class mates watched in delight as they got shouted at. Phil recoiled slightly at the attention.

“Sorry, sir. Phil’s new and I had to help him get to class,” Teddy spoke for them, unaffected by everyones stares.

“You’ve got two minutes to get changed. Any longer than that and your doing laps.”

Teddy grabbed Phil’s wrist and hurriedly dragged him into the changing rooms. The quickly pulled out their PE kits and started getting changed. Phil blushed when Teddy took his top off; he was really fucking toned. Teddy laughed as Phil paused his actions making Phil blush (he felt like all he had done since he met Teddy was blush.)

They ran back into the PE hall giggling with flushed faces causing a few people to raise their eyebrows. Mr. Russell nodded at the boys to acknowledge that he had seen them, before gathering everyone up and instructing them to do four laps of the hall as a warm up.

“Fucking, hell,” Phil moaned, sweat dripping form his forehead. “PE’s bloody impossible in this school.” He was walking out of the PE hall with Teddy who was smiling at him. Teddy’s arm was slung around Phil’s neck; apparently he wasn't bothered about Phil being a sweaty mess. They had been doing vigorous fitness and Phil felt like he was about to keel over.

“It’s not that bad,” Teddy laughed.

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Six Pack.” Phil rolled his eyes, a soft smile adorning his lips.

“Been staring at my abs have you?” Teddy smirked.

Phil blushed and looked away.

“I’m only joking,” Teddy spoke sweetly, nudging Phil and smiling gently. “Come one, lets go get changed.”

** Phil didn't share another classes with Teddy for the rest of the day but he had met up with him at lunch. Phil had also spoken to some people in his other classes but nobody was really memorable or seemed to connect with him; not like Teddy. At the end of the day, Teddy met Phil at the school gates and gave him his phone number before leaving with the promise of seeing him tomorrow. Phil smiled the whole walk back to his house.

Phil’s mum wasn't in when he got back so he headed into the kitchen and got a snack before heading up to his room. He collapsed onto his bed with a thud and took out his phone finding that he had a notification saying he had a text; a rare occurrence for Phil.

He quickly unlocked his phone and felt a smile engulf his face as he saw who the text was from.

hey phil, it’s teddy. is it weird that i miss you already? it probably is. anyway hi!! i hope this is the right number other wise this is gonna be awkward haha. xx

Phil quickly typed out a response.

hi! yeah, this is phil lol. i miss you 2 XD. xx

Phil texted Teddy until the early hours of the morning (only stopping to have dinner with his mum; she never allowed phones at the dinner table). Phil finally stopped texting Teddy when Teddy said he had to get to bed. Phil begrudgingly decided he better head off as well.

He stripped down to his boxer shorts and climbed under his bed covers. Phil fell asleep smiling; thoughts of Teddy filling his unconscious mind. The boy from the night before completely forgotten.

Phil, once again, woke with a start. A quick glance at his bedside clock told him it was 3:37 AM.

“You're still here?”

Phil jumped at the voice. Just like the night before, there was a boy, the same boy, standing by Phil’s bed. Phil tried to take the situation in his stride. Something about the boy was calming almost, as if he meant no harm. The black haired boy tried to ignore the fact that the boy had most likely broken into his house. Twice.

“Yeah and I wont be leaving any time soon,” Phil replied, Teddy at the forefront of his mind; his newfound reason for staying.

“Damn, I thought last night would have scared you off.” The boy pouted. He looks cute when he doesn’t look like he wants me dead Phil thought What is it with Dawnshire and cute boys?

“Well if it’s any consolation, I was terrified. Mind telling me why you're here and how you got in my room?”

“Hmm, I think that’s a story I’ll save for another day.”

“Right, well I’m going back to sleep now.” Phil lay back down.

“Oh, okay.”

“Goodbye- Sorry I didn't catch your name.”

“Dan. My names Dan.”

“I’m Phil.”

“Well, Phil,” Dan drawled. “Since you aren't leaving, I will. For now at least. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dan,” Phil yawned, closing his eyes.

Phil was quick to get out of bed the next day; he couldn't wait to see more of Teddy. His mum was shocked when she came down to make herself breakfast, only to find Phil already there making breakfast for the pair of them. After eating, they were quick to leave (at Phil’s request).

He texted Teddy on the way to school.

u at school yet? -p.l x

no. I'm on my way tho. be there in 5 -t.h x

sameee, c u soon haha -p.l x

When Phil’s mum rolled up in front of the school gates, Phil saw Teddy already leaning against them. He hastily said goodbye to his mum before jumping out the car and walking over to Teddy.

“Phil!” Teddy said running up to him. “How are you?”

“Hey, Teddy.” Phil smiled. “I’m good. What about you?”

“Fucking tired, man. I stayed up really late texting people.”

“Oh? I thought you said you had to go to bed at, like, 10 last night? That’s when we stopped talking?” Phil asked sceptically.

Teddy looked nervous before he started laughing albeit slightly nervously. “Yeah, that’s late for me. I’m not really a night person.”

Phil had only know Teddy a day, so he couldn't really tell properly, but he was almost positive Teddy was lying. He decided to let it pass, after all, they had only just met and Teddy was in no way obliged to tell Phil anything he didn't want to.

“Come on, let’s get to class.”

“How was school?”

“Jesus, Dan!” Phil exclaimed as the brown haired boy surprised him by being in his room. “What are you doing here?!”

“Hmm… Don’t really want to answer that question.” Dan smirked. “How about you answer mine?”

“It was fine, thanks for asking. Now can you please leave?” Phil sounded exasperated, even to his own ears.

“But I’m bored and I can’t go anywhere else.”

“How about you go home.”

“This is my home,” Dan rebutted, eyebrows furrowed.

“No it isn’t, we’ve been through this.”

“Yes it is, Phil! I literally can’t go anywhere else but here!”

“What, you some sort of ghost or something?”

Dan stayed silent.

“You don't actually expect me to believe that you’re a ghost do you? That’s crazy!”

“Phil, listen-”

“No, you listen. Get out of my house and stop coming back uninvited. This isn't some funny stunt; it’s just annoying. I don't appreciate you-”

Phil’s rant was interrupted by the door slamming. He looked over and found that Dan was scowling over at it.

“This seriously isn't funny, Dan. I don’t know how you did that but I know you should stop. It’s freaking me out.”

Dan’s expression didn't change but his line of vision did. Instead of staring at the door he focused on Phil’s bedside lamp and in seconds the bulb shattered causing Phil to yelp and jump away. Crazy as it may seem, Phil was starting to believe Dan.

“Please, Phil. I may be a ghost but I’m not a liar.”

“How is this possible?” Phil sat down on his bed.

“I died in a fire. In this house, in this room actually. My parents weren't very accepting of the fact that I was gay so they put bars on my bedroom windows and a lock on my door. When the fire started I was done for; I had no way out. Sometimes I’m half convinced that they were the ones who started it. You know, on purpose, to get rid of me. Not that it matters now.”

“Why are you, like, alive then?”

“Charming.” Dan rolled his eyes.

“I didn't mean it like that.” Phil sighed. “Why?”

Dan shrugged before saying “My death was unjust, I've been given another chance to do the one thing I always wanted to do when I was alive.”

“Oh? And that is?”

“Come on, we’ve had enough questions about my death and why I’m here and shit. How about I show you some my ghost abilities.”

“Abilities?”

“Yes, Phil. Abilities. Come on, keep up.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t think you'd have any.”

“Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough to deserve powers?”

“Sorry.” Phil looked bashful.

“I’m only messing with you, loosen up.” Phil didn’t. “Watch this.” And with that, Dan disappeared.

“Dan where are you?” Phil asked as he got off his bed and started searching for Dan.

“Boo.” Suddenly, Dan appeared right in front of Phil’s face causing Phil the scream and flail before falling to the ground, landing on his butt.

“Dan! You scared me!” Phil announced, outraged.

“Sorry!” Dan said between laughs.

“You’re hilarious,” Phil drawled, as he hauled himself off the ground.

“Lighten up, Philip!” Dan exclaimed, grabbing Phil’s hands.

“Don’t call me Philip.”

“Sorry, Phildred.” Dan winked.

“What else can you do then?”

“Well, I can walk through walls, control stuff with my mind and apparently I can easily read people but I’ve never tried.”

“How come?”

“You’re the first person to live here since I died.”

“Oh.” There was a slightly awkward silence before Phil asked Dan if he could fly.

“Obviously not. I mean, really, Phil? Be realistic.” Dan smirked at Phil’s exasperated look.

Phil spoke to Dan for the whole evening, only stopping to eat tea. Dan showed Phil more of his abilities and Phil showed Dan some of his video games which Dan was convinced were the work of a witch or some other dark sorcerer.

Dan’s presence was an appreciated one. The pair, ironically, got on like a house on fire. Despite how cliche it sounded, something about Dan made Phil feel like he had know him forever. Phil spent most of the evening smiling, happy to be in Dan’s company. He was so content that he didn't check his phone (which had several missed messages from Teddy on it) once. ** Phil fell into a routine. He would spend his days with Teddy and his evenings with Dan and on the weekends he would either go out with Teddy or stay home watching movies with Dan. He was content. He had made some other friends at school but he only spoke to them in classes that he didn't share with Teddy.

Phil liked his routine. His life at his past school, Somerset School of Fine Arts, had been turbulent and it was difficult to get to grips with everything changing all the time but Phil tried his best to tolerate it never the less. His friends at his Somerset had been unreliable and untrustworthy; nothing like Teddy or Dan. Phil loved how he knew that with Teddy everything would be perfect, no cross words would be said between the two of them and he could just trust him wholly. Phil, however, also loved how he knew that with Dan he could be himself, never stop smiling, exchange small mean comments that were nothing but banter. All that, in it self, was it’s own kind of perfect.

Phil loved his routine, but he was also okay with it changing slightly and that was why he was walking home after school hand in hand with Teddy, both of them giggling their arses off.

“You’re parents aren't home, right?” Teddy asked when their giggling had subsided.

“Mum’s at work and dad’s never home.” Phil smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Perfect,” Teddy whispered in Phil’s ear before kissing his cheek sloppily. Phil picked up the pace, Teddy quickly matching his speed. They both couldn't wait to get back to Phil’s.

“Wait out here a sec,” Phil said to Teddy as he stepped into his room and closed the door behind him, leaving Teddy on the small landing between the stairs and his bedroom door.

“Dan?” he called once the door was fully shut behind him.

“Yep,” Dan smirked, appearing behind him.

“I’ve got someone over and you're not allowed to disturb us, okay? Hide in the closet or something.”

“Bit insensitive asking me to hide in a closet,” Dan deadpanned, backing up into the wardrobe as Phil crowded him into it.

“Dan, please. I need you to do this for me.”

“Fine. You know I could just stay invisible-” he started but was cut off when Phil shut the wardrobe door, leaving him in darkness. He sighed. The fucking things I do for him…

Once the door to the wardrobe was closed Phil bounded over to his bedroom’s main door and flung it open revealing Teddy in all his glory. He looked ever more beautiful than usual. His normally immaculate wavy hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed a light pink colour. Phil couldn't help but kiss him.

He pushed Teddy up against the open door but Teddy quickly moved them to the bed, closing the door behind them. Phil pushed Teddy down onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Phil smiled down at Teddy. Teddy blushed and reattached his their lips.

Things started getting more heated, Phil started kissing along Teddy’s neck as Teddy began pulling at Phil’s shirt and-

“Hello!” The pair sprung apart and turned to look at the intruder. It was Dan.

“Who the fuck are you?” Teddy asked, disgust evident in his voice.

“Daniel Howell, at your service.” Dan glared at Teddy.

“I thought you didn't have any other friends here?” Teddy asked Phil, ignoring Dan.

“Dan’s more of an annoying attachment than a friend.”

“Cheers, mate.” Dan moved his glare for Teddy to Phil but once the pair made eye contact any hate behind the gaze immediately vanished.

An awkward silence fell over them all.

“Well, I better get going. My mum will be wondering where I am,” Teddy stuttered as he got up off the bed and grabbed his bag that had been dropped on the floor in his and Phil’s haste to get in.

“I thought you said your parents were out of town?” Phil questioned, puzzled. Dan stood awkwardly to the side, watching as tension grew between the other two.

“Well, yeah… They will be but they haven't left yet and I should say goodbye to them.” Teddy quickly turned and walked out of Phil’s room shouting a half hearted promise to text Phil behind him.

The room once again filled with an uncomfortable silence. Phil knew he shouldn't have broken his routine. After all, he followed it for a reason.

“Thanks for that,” Phil said quietly after a while.

“Excuse me?” Dan asked, scandalised.

“You ruined the moment. We were fucking getting somewhere!” Phil pulled his hair in frustration as he moved to the edge of the bed, swung his legs off and sat there, head resting in his hands.

“I was getting a bad vibe from him.”

“Of course you were.” Phil rolled his eyes.

“Phil, please. I said when you first found out I was a ghost that I had that ability. I read him. His aura was dark; he shouldn't be trusted.”

“What do you know, Dan‽ You’re dead.”

Dan immediately recoiled at what Phil said. He knew Phil was upset with him but that was a low blow. Phil seemed to realise what he had said and he quickly tried to back track, his eyes widening.

“Dan, I didn't mean it like that-”

“Save it, Phil.”

“Dan-”

“I said save it,” Dan seethed, walking out the door and slamming it shut behind him. Phil knew Dan well enough to know that the only reason he didn't walk straight through the door, without opening it, was so he could slam it for dramatic effect. That thought lifted Phil’s mood slightly.

Phil flopped back on his bed. Perfect. Now he had not only pissed off his crush, but he had also hurt his best friend. What a cock up.

Saying sorry to Dan had been surprisingly easy. Once they had both calmed down, Phil found Dan and apologised profusely; saying he didn't mean a thing he had said and it all just came out in the heat of the moment. Dan was quick to accept the apology, after all, Phil was his only friend and they fell out, they would be forced to awkwardly live together.

After making up, they decided to watch a movie. The pair settled down on Phil’s couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. Their movie of choice was Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone. The movie hadn't even started yet and Dan had already eaten more than half of the popcorn.

“You know,” Phil started. “For a ghost, you sure eat a hell of a lot.”

Dan threw a piece of popcorn at Phil’s head, glaring. “If you hadn't eaten in 40 years I think you'd also be making the most of the food you were given.”

“But you don't actually need food.”

“Just because I don't need it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. Now shut up! I want to hear more about the Dursleys.”

Phil, fondly, rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV. He loved seeing how engrossed Dan got in movies and their plot; he couldn't wait to see Dan’s reaction to Harry and his friend’s magic.

By the end of the movie Phil was falling asleep so he decided it was time to call it a night. Dan was reluctant to leave so they compromised and decided to have a sleepover (Dan usually read Phil’s books in the kitchen at night so he didn't disturb Phil; being a ghost he didn't need sleep). Phil gave Dan a pair of pyjamas and the two of them settled down on Phil’s bed.

Phil was out like a light. He fell into a happy, peaceful sleep, subconsciously thinking about how nice it was to have someone sleeping next to him. Phil was contently dreaming when-

“Phil? Are you awake?” a small voice whispered, breaking him out of his sleep.

Phil groaned. “I am now… Fucking ghosts and there lack of need for sleep.”

“Let’s do something!”

“Dan, it’s two in the morning. I have school tomorrow, I really need to sleep.” Phil sighed and turned over to face Dan.

“Sorry. I’ll let you sleep.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Phil.”

Silence fell over the room once again. The quiet was quickly lulling Phil to sleep when-

“Phil?”

“Dan! Please let me sleep.”

“I just wanted to say I appreciate you. I didn't have many friends when I was alive but the ones I did have were amazing. You remind me of Michael. He was really special to me so I hope you know how important you are.”

Phil was blown away. Who knew that Dan could be so lovely? He was quick to tell Dan that he appreciated him as well and in a moment of madness, he moved forward and placed a soft kiss on Dan’s cheek. When he saw smile that spread across Dan’s face, Phil decided that that moment of madness was well worth it.

Phil was a wreck the next morning. He grumbled the whole time he was getting ready for school, swatting at a far too energetic Dan every time he came near him. The pair begrudgingly said their goodbyes before Phil made his way downstairs to meet his mum before heading to school.

The enthusiasm he once had for school had completely worn off. Now, he dreaded the car journey coming to its inevitable end because he knew that once he left the cosiness of the vehicle, he would have to make his way through another torturous day of school. Eastwood Grammar School was good, he was happy. Phil was just lazy and would much rather lounge around all day than make an effort to do work and try hard.

His mum pulled up in front of the schools forbidding gates and bid him farewell before shooing him out of the car. Phil spotted Teddy leaning against the gates, headphones in, texting (as usual). Today as he made his way up to him he didn't get the usual rush of excitement, he decided it was because of his fatigue and not from a change in his relationship’s dynamics.

“Hey,” Phil said when he arrived at Teddy’s side.

“Oh, hi. You look tired…” Teddy replied. He was being strange, acting out of character.

“Yeah. I stayed up late with Dan,” Phil responded, cautiously.

“Oh? He was at yours last night? Again?” Teddy looked annoyed. Phil was taken aback. He had never seen this side of Ted, he was usually so kind and compassionate. He certainty had never looked at Phil with a look that could only be described as one thing: hate.

“Yeah…” The look of fury on Teddy’s face intensified. Phil couldn't exactly tell Teddy that Dan was a ghost, and he had no choice but to see him everyday, without Teddy thinking he was certifiably insane so he stuttered out the first excuse that came to mind. “He needed help with… homework. We finished late and decided it would be better if he just stayed. Nothing happened.” Phil the last words made Phil’s stomach plummet with guilt, he tried to reach out for Teddy’s hand to distract himself from the sinking feeling in his stomach but Teddy pulled his hand away, stepping backwards.

“I’m going to class,” he said, glaring at Phil.

“See you later?” Phil asked hopefully.

Teddy ignored him and turned around before walking off into school.

Teddy avoided Phil for the rest of the day. At lunch Phil had smiled at him but Teddy didn't smile back. Phil ignored it and made his way over to their usual lunch table where Teddy was sat. As soon as he sat down as well, though, Teddy stood up and walked over to another table.

He didn't see Teddy again until he was leaving school, a small frown adoring his face. Teddy came running up to him a regretful look on his features.

“I’m sorry for being a dick today, Phil. It’s just… I really like you and I got jealous when I heard you were hanging out with Dan. I know thats ridiculous, like, obviously you can have other friends, it just came as a surprise when I actually met one of them,” he uttered sheepishly, looking at the ground.

Phil smiled at the bashful boy, softly grabbing his chin and pulling his head up so he could make eye contact with him.

“It’s okay,” he promised, gently. “I forgive you.” Phil leant down and peck Teddy sweetly on the lips, Teddy’s smiled into the kiss.

“Thanks,” Teddy smiled before kissing Phil again. The beamed at each other. The moment was broken when Teddy’s phone chimed. He quickly pulled away from Phil, whipping his phone out.

“Shit! I need to go. I’ll text you!”

Phil watched as he turned and sprinted in the other direction. Even though Teddy had ran off rather unexpectedly, Phil was still left with a warm feeling in his tummy. Teddy liked him enough to be jealous of another guy who got his attention. Phil ran home, excited to tell Dan the news.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed as he burst through his bedroom door. Dan was lounging on Phil’s sofa, his legs stretched out across it, one of Phil’s comics in his hands.

“Yeah?” Dan questioned, sitting up Phil pushed his legs off of one end of the couch, making room for himself.

“Teddy was really jealous about you staying over!”

“And that’s a good thing because…?”

“It means he likes me, stupid!”

“Great…”

Phil rolled his eyes at Dan’s lack of enthusiasm. Typical.

“Anyway,” Dan drawled pointedly. “Can you paint my nails? It’s just- I’ve always wanted to have them done and I never got a chance to do them when I was alive because no one would do it for me. I mean maybe Michael would have but-”

“Dan!” Phil cut off Dan’s rambling, eyebrows raised. Dan looked at him sheepishly. “Of course I’ll paint your nails. I mean, I can’t promise they’ll be good- In fact, I can guarantee they wont be good but it’s worth a shot, right?”

Dan beamed at Phil before pouncing on him and engulfing him in a bear hug. “Thank you, Phil.” The sincerity in Dan’s voice melted Phil’s heart.

“What colour?” Phil asked as he laid out an array of nail polish colours. He had snuck into his mother’s room and had stolen nail polish out of her extensive collection. He had chosen a mix of pinks, blues, purples and greys.

“This one please,” Dan said bashfully as he pointed at a dim grey colour. Dan had been acting sheepish since he had brought up the idea of Phil painting his nails. Phil deduced it to be because of how out of Dan’s comfort zone the situation was. Phil found it incredibly endearing.

The pair of them were sat cross legged facing each other on the couch. Phil picked up the colour Dan wanted and gently took one of his hands and held it in his own.

“Sorry if I completely fuck this up,” Phil laughed.

“I don’t mind,” Dan murmured, a small smile on his face. “I’m just really excited to finally get them done.”

Phil matched Dan’s smile before carefully unscrewed the lid of the nail polish and painting Dan’s first nail. Dan was surprised at how well it turned out and made sure to tell Phil so.

“So am I,” Phil laughed.

A peaceful quiet fell over the room once Phil stopped laughing. Dan decided to turn on the TV. He flicked his wrist and the remote flew through the air from Phil’s bed into his hand.

“Dan!” Phil chastised. “I told you to warn me before you sent things flying around my room; that nearly smashed into my head!”

Dan rolled his eyes. “It wouldn't have; I had perfect control of it.”

“Didn’t look like it,” Phil muttered. Dan kicked him and Phil smudged his nail polish making Dan glare.

“You ruined it!” Dan admonished.

“It’s only a little bit smudged on one finger, Dan! Besides, you were the one who kicked me!”

Dan blushed and apologised before telling Phil to “Hurry the fuck up and pain my nails!”.

Phil hated maths. He hated the teacher, the work and just the subject in general really. What made matters worse however, was the sudden announcement that there was going to be an exam tomorrow. Great. Now Phil would have to spend the evening revising instead of watching Pulp Fiction with Dan like he had planned.

“Hey, Phil?” Phil was shocked out of his murderous thoughts on maths by a quiet feminine voice. He turned to see Mel, his friend that he spoke to in maths, looking at him expectantly. Mel was a nice girl; she had shoulder length wavy, red hair and startlingly green eyes. She was stunningly pretty in an a slightly unconditional way. If Phil weren't gay, he knew that Mel would be the kind of girl he would be attracted to.

“Yeah?” Phil replied.

“I don’t really know how to say this… I know it’ll be difficult to hear but please listen. You shouldn’t trust Teddy.”

“What are you on about?” Phil asked, a frown etched on his face.

“He isn't a good person, Phil. Please, listen to me. I’m trying to help.”

“Well it’s not helping!” Phil fumed. “My relationship with Teddy is nothing to do with you so stay out of it!”

The bell rang shortly after Phil’s outburst and he was first out of the class room, pushing past people to get to French and away from Mel.

French wasn't any better. Josh, Mel’s best friend and Phil’s French partner, had said something along the same lines as Mel about Teddy. He said that Phil was going to get hurt and he should leave before he gets in to deep. Phil didn't get a chance to tell him he in far too deep already.

Though Phil hated to admit it, all this talk about Teddy, had made him reevaluate a few things. Teddy’d been acting distant lately. He used to reply to all of Phil’s messages in seconds but now Phil was lucky if he got a reply on the same day. And it wasn't as if Teddy just wasn't his phone as often anymore because whenever Phil was with Teddy he was never off it- constantly texting or calling people and when Phil asked who they were, Teddy got defensive or said “you don’t know them”.

It wasn’t only that though, Teddy and Phil now never saw each other outside of school (the only exception being the time that Dan interrupted the pair of them and Teddy quickly left). Phil was always asking if he wanted to do something at the weekend but Teddy would reject him saying he was busy or he would accept and cancel at the very last minute saying some family stuff came up.

Phil tried to convince himself that he was over reacting and things were fine but some part of Phil’s brain knew things were far from it. For once, Phil was unable to push the unwanted thought out of his mind and it plagued him for the rest of the school day and the whole walk home. He really hoped Dan could cheer him up.

Dan did not cheer him up. If fact, if anything, he worsened his mood. He had come home in the hopes of feeling better and walked up into his room only to find Dan with a trouble look on his face.

“Are you alright?” Phil had asked.

“Not really,” Dan had replied. “I sort of need to talk to you.”

“Well? On you go.”

“It’s about Teddy. I think you should break up with him.”

“Not you, too!” Phil threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Listen, when I first met him I got a really bad vibe off him. As if he was… inherently evil or something. I could feel it in my stomach. Like anxiety but different. The sinking feeling was there, but it also hurt not just mentally but physically. I’ve felt it since he left. Not as strongly, obviously, more like a dull ache in the background of everything… but today that changed. The feeling became much stronger. Not only was it now a sinking feeling but a twisting one. I don't know how to explain it to you but I know he’s bad news.”

Phil stared at Dan in astonishment before slowly saying, “What utter bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Bull. Shit. That’s not true! You’re fucking making stuff up to spite me or something. I bet it’s because your jealous. You're life was shitty and now you can’t bare to see me live mine happily with someone I love and who loves me!

“You think you can just play the ghost card, blame it on some powers that are probably fucking made up because you have nothing better to do?” Dan was on the verge of tears. “You fucking take that back.” His voice was dangerously low. “Take that back Philip Lester.” “No.” “You know what? I don’t need this. I’m trying to be a good friend and warn you that the so called love of your life doesn’t like you and never will. I don’t need you taring shreds into me when I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t fucking need your help! Last time I checked, I had a boyfriend, a good one at that, and some perfectly good friends, as well!” That wasn't strictly true; Phil was pretty sure that he had lost at least two of those friends today.

“You’re boyfriend is a bad person, Phil! You said your self he was acting strange recently! Why cant you just open your eyes and see him for who he really is!” Tears were slowly pouring down both their faces at this point. The pair had never properly fought so this was a horrible first.

“Leave,” Phil mumbled dejectedly, looking down.

“What?” Dan asked confused.

“I said leave, Dan!” Phil raised his voice again. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

Dan was about to say that he literally couldn't leave, since he was a ghost, but after looking at Phil and seeing how utterly miserable he looked, he made his way to the door before disappearing.

Phil lay down on his bed, curled into a ball, before properly letting himself go. Brutal sobs ripped through his throat as he clutched desperately at his bed covers. Why did everything always fall apart all at once?

Phil cried for over an hour. He lay wallowing in self pity and regret until his mum came up to check he was alright. He wasn’t, of course, but somehow he managed to convince his mum that he had just tripped and fallen badly.

All Phil wanted now was to have a relaxing evening but he couldn’t. He still had to revise for his maths test the next day. He shakily got to his feet and got out his revision.

Phil fell asleep shorty after an uncomfortable dinner with his mother. For the first time in a long time, he was happy to escape the cruel clutches of the world and fall into blissfully unaware nothingness.

** Just when he thought things were finally going well, everything fell apart. School was hell; Josh and Mel didn't speak to him anymore and Teddy always seemed to have private tutoring with the teachers (which Phil found unusual because Teddy was incredibly bright and definitely didn't need tutored) at lunchtimes and breaks so he never saw him.

School, though, was heaven compared to home. Dan was gone. But not fully. He was still there but he didn't talk to Phil at all and only made himself visible when absolutely necessary.

Everything was Phil’s fault. So what if it wasn’t Dan’s place to talk about his and Teddy’s love life? Phil never should have said what he did about Dan and his past. Phil was sure what he did was unforgivable. He’d been such a prick. He would give anything to have Dan back.

Things went from bad to worse ridiculously quick. Everything just seemed to snowball and not before long, the snowball was giant and Phil couldn't run away from it fast enough. He was going to get crushed.

The snowball crushed him Wednesday lunch time.

He was out looking for Teddy; it was the third time in a row he hadn't shown up to lunch, with no explanation. Phil searched the corridors, the library and the toilets but didn't find Teddy anywhere. He searched some more but still found himself coming up empty handed.

Dejected, embarrassed and slightly heart broken, Phil made his way to his “special bench”. His special bench was situated just outside the front door to the school. He had found it a week or so into attending Eastwood Grammar School and had sat there on numerous occasions since (Phil deemed that a good enough reason for it to be his special bench; he sat on it far more often than he did any other bench in school).

He pushed open the school’s tall, main doors, smiling at the receptionist who, in the time since his first day he had found out, was called Samuel. He looked across to his bench and froze.

Someone was sitting on his bench.

Not just someone; Teddy.

And he wasn’t alone.

And he wasn’t just sitting.

He was kissing someone.

Someone that wasn't Phil.

Phil was too stunned to move. He watched in silence as Teddy, his Teddy, sat straddling another boy who Phil didn't recognise. It felt like an eternity had passed since Phil caught them kissing to when they broke apart. When they did, they stayed as they were, smiling at each other lovingly. Phil thought he might throw up. A strangled sob broke free from Phil’s throat, before he could stop it, attracting the attention of the two other boys.

“Shit!” Teddy exclaimed upon realising who had caught them. He quickly got off the other boys lap and started hobbling over to Phil, hurriedly. Phil tried not to think about why he was limping. Phil turned to go but Teddy grabbed his arm, stopping him. His mystery boy sat stunned on Phil’s Bench “The Bench Where Phil Found Out Everyone Was Right And His Boyfriend Was, In Fact, A Cheating Arsehole”, looking confused.

“Please, Phil. Let me explain,” Teddy tried, a desperate look on his face.

“There’s nothing to explain, Theodor,” Phil seethed, using Teddy’s real name just because he knew he hated it. “I caught you red handed. You- you cheated on me!”

“Cheated?” a voice came from behind Teddy.

Teddy turned around. “Not the best time for your input, Nathan!” Even though Phil couldn't see his face, he could tell Teddy was glaring at the other boy. “Phil, babe, I thought we weren't exclusive.”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. You knew exactly what we were. Boyfriends. Exclusive ones!” Phil’s anger soared as he stared at the boy he had put so much trust in. The boy who had broken his heart.

“We never asked each other out!” Teddy shouted, frenziedly.

“Because I didn’t see the need to! We were practically together from the very start!”

“But you never said we were boyfriends!”

“Don’t play dumb, Theo! You know it was like an unspoken agreement for us!”

“What do you mean ‘unspoken agreement’? If it’s unspoken how the fuck am I supposed to know it exists?!”

“You knew it existed! You said to Dan one of the times when you were over that we were dating!”

“I didn't think the fucking prick would snitch on me!”

“Don’t speak about Dan like that! He’s done nothing wrong! You’re the one who fucked this up!”

“Phil, I’m sorry. Hurting you was never my intention… I’d never want to hurt you.”

“Well guess what, Teddy?” Phil’s hands tugged at his hair harshly, a slightly crazed look in his eye. “You’ve hurt me. So much. People warned me but, of course, I didn't listen. You were perfect, my perfect bear.” Tears pored out of Phil’s eyes so rapidly they blurred his vision. Teddy watched silently. “But no- You’re everything I thought you weren’t! Unreliable, untrustworthy and a cheat.”

“Phil-”

“Don’t. Teddy… Just… Why? Was I not good enough for you?”

“No! You were so good for me. Too good, Phil. You’re perfect! It’s just…Things were moving so slowly with us…I wanted something quick. He was just a good fuck; something to satisfy me whilst I waited for you. It’s almost romantic if you think about it.”

That made Phil’s blood boil. “Romantic?! You think cheating on me is romantic?!”

“Not cheating, per say. More… occupying myself whilst I waited for you!” Teddy almost looked proud of his quick answer (read: excuse).

“Well, you should stop waiting. Nothing’s going to happen. We’re over!” Phil tried to push past Teddy and leave through the school gates but Teddy put his arm out to stop him, again.

“Phil, don’t go. I love you. Nathan means nothing to me!”

Nathan got up off “The Bench Where Phil Found Out Everyone Was Right And His Boyfriend Was, In Fact, A Cheating Arsehole” and made his way over to the pair of them. Teddy turned to him. Nathan slapped him in the face.

“I’m so sorry, Phil,” Nathan said, placing a comforting hand on Phil’s shoulder.

“I had no idea Teddy wasn't single. I wouldn't have done anything with him if I had.”

Phil gave Nathan a weak smile before pushing past Teddy. He could hear Teddy calling out for him but he didn't look back. He walked straight out the school gates and started heading home. There was only one person he wanted to see right now. Dan.

The walk home was difficult. Phil tried his best to keep his sobs as subtle as possible but his life seemed to have been turned upside down. He wasn't even sure if Dan would be willing to comfort him. He had been a prick to Dan because he thought he had been lying but now Phil knew that wasn't the story at all.

Thinking about how badly he had fucked up with Dan only made the urge to properly cry grow even stronger. He ran the last bit of his journey.

Phil dashed through front door, slamming it behind him. He hadn't managed to stop the tears. They were rapidly pouring out of his eyes, flooding his face. He sank to the floor, back against the door, and brought his knees up to his chest before hiding his face in them.

“Phil?” a concerned voice asked. Dan.

“You were right,” Phil wailed.

“What?” Dan asked, sinking to his knees next to Phil.

“You were right, Dan. Everything you said about Teddy was true. He cheated on me; just like you said. I’m sorry for not believing you.” Phil sobbed harder, the reality of it all was catching up with him more than before and he couldn't handle it.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil and Phil buried his head in Dan’s chest. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Phil. You’re so much better than him and he had no right to treat you like that.”

“I’m not, Dan,” Phil sobbed. “If I was better than him I wouldn't have fallen for him.”

“That’s not true and besides, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll find someone else.”

“No, Dan. Everything’s ruined!”

“At least you aren’t dead…” Dan mumbled, quietly.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m being so fucking insensitive. You-”

“Phil,” Dan cut in. “It’s fine. I’m hear to listen to all your problems. That’s what best friends are for, right?”

Phil pulled his head back and made eye contact with Dan. “Best friends? So you forgive me? Even after everything I said?”

“Of course I do, Phil. You mean the world to me.”

Phil breathed in shakily, his sobs subsiding slightly. “You really mean that?” He had only now realised that after he lifted his head, he was impossibly close to Dan’s face, only mere centimetres between them.

“Yeah,” Dan exhaled. His eyes drifted down to Phil’s lips before he quickly lifted his gaze back to his eyes. Phil subconsciously licked his lips. “I’m sorry he hurt you, Phil.”

“I’m sorry I let him. It’s just… I really did think he was perfect. I… er… I thought he was like you.” Phil gave Dan slightly crooked smile.

“Would you be mad if I kissed you right now?” Dan asked shakily. Phil shakily breathed in before smiling and saying, “Not at all.” and before he new it, Dan’s lips were on his.

Dan’s lips went as quick as they came and in less than a second, Dan was jumping back from Phil, gasping for breath.

“Dan?!” Phil asked worriedly.

Dan didn't say anything, just kept erratically breathing in and out. And that’s when it hit Phil.

Dan was breathing.

“You’re breathing,” Phil uttered, astounded. He moved closer to Dan and grabbed his wrist, only to flinch back, as if Dan was a boiling pan that he had just scolded himself on. But Phil hadn't pulled back because he had been burned, no, Phil had pulled back because he felt a pulse. Dan’s pulse. Dan was alive.

Epilogue

Phil was happy. Truly and wholly happy for the first time in a very, very long time. He loved his house, his school, his friends, but most of all, he loved Daniel James Howell. Dan was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Their friendship had been confusing and dysfunctional and had been completely turned around when Dan’s started breathing again; but Phil wouldn't change any of it for the world. Dan now lived with his brother and his family; courtesy of Phil. He had managed to track down Aidan, Dan’s brother, and had somehow got him to agree to let Dan live with him. At first Aidan had thought Phil was mad and was adamant that there was no way in hell his brother was miraculously alive again after forty years but after, finally, seeing Dan in person (and a lot of tears) he had happily agreed to let him live with him, his six year old daughter, Charlotte, and his wife, Claudine. They had accepted Dan into their lives and he now felt more at home there than he had ever with his real parents.

Dan, now, also attended the same school as Phil. When he was living his first life, he had had dreams of becoming a teacher and was finally getting to pursue them. Phil was working alongside him, with dreams of becoming an optician.

Everything had fallen into place. Teddy was completely out of the picture. In fact, last Dan and Phil heard, he was meant to be moving school. With Teddy gone, Phil got to talk to more people and was able to judge them for who they really were and not who Teddy thought them to be. Phil found that Nathan had lots in common with him and the two found it easy to build a friendship, one Dan later joined in on as well.

Dan and Phil had just said their farewells to Nathan and were walking back from school, Phil’s arm wrapped around Dan’s shoulders. They briskly walked through the streets, desperate to get home and become a tangle of limbs on Phil’s bed.

They squeezed through the front door together and made their way up to Phil’s room. Once the door was open, Phil immediately pounced on Dan, pushing him backwards, onto his bad.

“Phil!” Dan shrieked, between giggles.

“Sorry.” Phil smiled sheepishly. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

“Fucking sap,” Dan mumbled, smiling to himself. Phil elbowed him in the ribs.

The pair lay in silence, basking in each others quiet breathing and appreciating the solitude Phil’s room provided.

The silence was only broken when Phil spoke. “Dan?” he said.

“Yeah?” Dan replied, lifting his head from Phil’s chest and looking at him.

“You never told me why you got a second chance? At life, I mean. What was the thing you didn't get to do in your other life?” Phil asked, combing his fingers through Dan’s hair carefully.

Dan looked down, before lifting his head once again, a small smile adorning his lips. He took a deep breath in and breathed it out before uttering one one word. One word that changed everything (in the very best of ways). “Love.”

A/N: ahhh i hope you enjoyed!! this is my first fic i’ve posted so let me know what you thought!!

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