#I normally forget any weird tea I hear about within a few weeks anyway

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Okay but like, who tf expects kindergartners to understand some of the stuff that they are taught in class in spy x family? Like, I know it’s a pretentious school and some of it is probably for the sake of comedy or something, but my ass was learning how to count to 100 and the names of all the colors and what happens when you mix them, not some of the stuff from the manga. I don’t believe that Japanese kindergarteners are just built different, okay? My mom has been teaching kindergarten for my entire life (actually two or so more than that. I was actually partially named after a student) and has a masters in early childhood development. I was there when she was studying to get that master’s degree, mostly from home, and was witness to a bunch of the stuff she had to read and listen to, though I wasn’t paying super close attention. I did skim some books of hers when super bored as a kid without internet yet.

If there is one grade I hear a lot about from an education pov it’s kindergarten (I also get to hear some weird tea because my mom knows I don’t know any of those kids and am not going to go telling other people shit). Anya might be a bit younger than her classmates (and maybe they use concepts beyond a kindergarten level to try and illustrate how much of what is being asked of her is above what her age is capable of. In which case I do see where the author is coming from but it is still somewhat irritating)I know that a lot of what was covered in my kindergarten class was just building off of what you would learn in preschool while also still introducing the concepts to kids who only just started school, so you probably knew primary color names and stuff but not how to count past ten, so a kid a few years younger than her classmates might have trouble grasping the concepts not taught in preschool. I know I got held back in first grade for a similar reason, (my birthday is in spring so I could have been in a class that was either mostly older than me or mostly younger) but I won’t listen to anyone saying her bad grades in kindergarten make her stupid! Girl should be learning how to add numbers together and read a calendar and share with classmates, not some of the stuff they show yuri teaching. Sure, a kid might seek that sort of thing out on their own if they are particularly interested in a subject, (my nerd ass was always watching nature documentaries on the side and learning art stuff) but it’s not exactly something you should expect from five or six year olds in general. If I’m misremembering what they were talking about I might correct this post, but what I do remember was thinking “that’s way above what you should expect from most children at that age! They just aren’t all able to grasp concepts like this yet. I don’t care if you’re the ‘best school’, if you aren’t teaching your students at their own level then you’re a shitty school in my eyes! And this is their first year at your school anyway! Are you counting on all of them having private tutoring or something?!” while reading it.

And sure, part of Anya having trouble is her trauma around studying, and her mind reading stuff, but still! And yeah, this was set during the cold war in an era without much special education, but it’s kindergarten and she seems capable of understanding kindergarten level concepts! Or at least preschool!

Am I maybe a bit sensitive to this topic specifically as someone with an educator mom who specializes in that grade and developmental stage and as someone who has had problems due to being younger than the first class I was in and also having some learning disabilities? Yes. But i feel like that makes my take MORE relevant. If when I re-read what I forgot it is just as bad as I remember it I WILL be ready to throw hands (and probably lose) over the idea of her being stupid when things are just way more complicated than anyone should be expecting of kids that age! It’s not her fault if the school expects more than what is reasonable for children in that class.

[onyourzeus]

in ruins | kyh

title: in ruins pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: heavy angst, not a happy ending i’m warning you, small caps words: 4.0k

author’s note: i love hurting myself this way. 

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

you thought upon knocking on the door, you’d be greeted by the one person you have been looking forward to seeing all week. instead, an unexpecting friend of his unlocks it ajar, eyes peering over to your figure before realizing who you were. 

“wonpil, hey,” you greet him amidst the confused expression on his face. it brings him back to his senses, shaking his head slightly before fully letting the door open. he gulps slightly yet you catch it, but don’t question why he looks.. so nervous.

“is this a bad time?” you hesitate, taking one small step forward as you crane your neck to look around the apartment. wonpil immediately shakes his head again, sidestepping and gesturing his hand over. “no, no! please, come in. make yourself at home.” 

“okay, thanks…” you trail off, a small smile on your lips but a certain emotion tugging at your heart. with a better sight of the inside, you notice dowoon lying down on the couch with his phone on hand, seemingly focused on a game that requires both of his hands to control. wonpil closes the door behind you, and excuses himself to the kitchen before asking, “did you want anything to drink? water, tea?”

“i’m okay, wonpil. thank you, though,” you tell him, nodding your head to let him be. as he makes his way to get a glass of water for himself, you walk into the place further, taking in the minimal decorations and a few picture frames hanging on the walls. it’s been a while since you’ve set foot in the dorm, and taking in its unique scent and interior gives you some comfort from the anxiety building up from your stomach. 

you tell yourself that’s just how wonpil acts around you when younghyun isn’t around: a little shy, polite, and a smidgen bit careful not to say anything weird. you wish, at this point, he can get used to your presence. then again, you only get to see most of them whenever the bassist invites you over.

“hey, dowoon, what’cha playing?” you attempt to start a conversation, standing next to the edge of the couch where dowoon’s head rested. his sight is obstructed by the screen of his phone, so you bend down to check what has gotten most of his attention: genshin impact. 

“ah, jae had told me you rolled a keqing yesterday, that’s pretty cool,” you comment, and dowoon jumps from the sound of your voice so close to his ear. you get up, stepping back while apologizing. “sorry, sorry! didn’t mean to be nosy.” 

“no, you’re good—” he starts to say, sitting up from his comfortable position while pausing his game, haphazardly placing his phone on the side. a scratch on the back of his neck, he glances over to you. similarly to wonpil, he looks surprised to see you here. “oh! how’s it going?”

“it’s going,” you reply quickly, realizing more and more it doesn’t seem like you were expected to come. weird, you wander in the back of your mind, younghyun usually gives them a heads up when you’re coming over to hang out or just pick him up to leave. 

“did younghyun not say anything today?” an air of silence is felt, and now you’re more concerned when turning to look at his bedroom door— he’s not in there. 

“he probably forgot,” wonpil chimes in, approaching the living room as he sets down his glass. “hyung has been really busy lately, so it might have slipped his mind.”

“yeah, yeah. it’s no big deal. you’re always welcome here,” dowoon adds, an encouraging smile appearing on his lips. you reciprocate, albeit a little forced, feeling less sure of the fact that the plans you and younghyun had made and promised to pursue are starting to crumble beneath your feet. 

sighing deeply, you grip onto your purse and interrogate further: “he’s not in his room, is he?” 

the drummer and pianist steal a glance at each other for a split second, but every detail of their silent conversation is not lost on you. that’s a look of panic, worrying what you’d feel if they told the truth, rapidly forming excuses in their heads they can use to white lie their way out of the situation. 

“he’s…” wonpil begins, and dowoon’s ears have warmed up to the tense air looming all over you three. a door to the left creaks open, and for a moment you’re relieved. maybe you were overreacting, already affected by the many times something similar has happened to you, but there was no reason not to forgive younghyun.

 however, this time, it’s different. if that’s not him coming out of the door right now…

“hey, i’m gonna go on a run—” sungjin informs his roommates, locking the door in his wake. he finally looks towards the three of you in the living room, and given his certain sense of maturity— and analyzing what’s going on by the awkward expressions painted on your faces, he gives you a wave of his hand. 

“hi. you’re looking for younghyun?” 

“sungjin, i… yeah. where is he?” you let your breaths stabilize, not wanting to break down in the middle of what once was a familiar space, and is now becoming more and more foreign to you. as wonpil and dowoon remain quiet, pretending to busy themselves with his almost empty glass of water and overheating phone respectively, you keep your eyes on sungjin. begging him to tell the truth. 

he delivers, but his stare is hard, almost as if he’s hiding something behind the glassiness of his eyes. “he’s been out for the whole day. he said to not wait up on him since he still has another work schedule tonight.” 

as you stand there, knuckles turning pale with the way it holds onto your purse for dear life, you scoff sarcastically. leaving sungjin’s gaze, the anxiety had reached the base of your throat, restricting words of profanities to come out of you like a broken dam. 

“you can wait for him in his room. did you text him?” sungjin continues to console you, walking closer but allowing personal space between you. “i can call him while i run, he’s going to get annoyed eventually and pick up.” 

“yeah, i’ll do the same as hyung. we’ll blow up his phone so he can come back home,” dowoon joins with a perk to his voice, seemingly anticipating their master plan to succeed. wonpil nods along, but doesn’t meet your gaze, only swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. 

“you don’t have to do that,” you let them know as much as your voice can muster before breaking. “i’ll take you up on your offer of waiting for him, if you don’t mind. i’ll call him myself.” 

sungjin brings his fingers in between the bridge of his nose, contemplating on accepting the compromise. to hurry things up, you bring a hand to his shoulder and squeeze it gently. he seems to understand as he nods firmly, patting your hand before you let it go. 

“okay. let me know if he doesn’t come back in an hour, yeah?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“do you want some snacks? leftovers? are you hungry?” wonpil goes off with his questions, and it’s an endearing sight to watch him treat you so politely in his humble abode. honestly, at this point you’d rather leave and forget this day even existed— but you needed answers, and you know you’re not getting it from them. 

you don’t want to, anyway, because they shouldn’t be involved in this. they don’t need to be. this is between you and younghyun, and if you were to wait for him again, for the longest time— and maybe the last time, then so be it.

you’re not going to leave until you get what you wanted. 

“don’t worry about me, wonpil. i’m sorry for intruding on your night,” you apologize, bowing down before him as you make your way to younghyun’s bedroom. thankfully, he left it unlocked, and you swung the door open and close in an instant. with your back on the door, your labored breathing comes back— it took a lot from you to stay calm, collected, and unbothered by what’s going on. you didn’t want to make it a big deal, they’ve seen this before, and it usually gets resolved.

like you said, forgiveness was not an uncommon concept with you and younghyun. you believe it’s essential with how… complicated your relationship is with each other. you’ve fucked up a couple of times, said things that weren’t within your best intentions to, and younghyun didn’t hold grudges because of them. 

he would be upset, justifiably so, but after a day or two, you were both back to normal. he reassures you there wasn’t any bad blood, and he understand the frustration himself. 

from then on, you tried— really hard not to fuck things up anymore because it’s scary. it’s terrifying to think about the consequences of unwanted words, uncalled for actions with a person whose schedule is jam packed everyday, and his thoughts never ending. 

younghyun is always on the run, whether that be hopping from studio to studio or collecting ideas for a new song and another. 

it’s not like you aren’t busy yourself, but the degree to which he pushes himself further into his career is miles ahead from yours. and it’s not your place to complain about, it’s your choice to be supportive, though. which you promised. from day one, and he kissed you like it was the one answer he needed to hear.

you miss it. you miss him, his lips, his touch; everything that screamed younghyun, it’s right here. in his room. the only thing missing is the person himself, him. 

you walk over to his bed, kept clean and sheets folded. always organized, rarely leaving miscellaneous crap in random places. sometimes it’s intimidating, to visualize the kind of person who inhabits this room, but knowing who he is, you feel safer than insecure here. 

walking over to his desk, a black notebook sits atop with a pen to the side. ah, you notice the cap is missing, and you look for the miniscule thing all over the place. you find it on top of his dresser, and quickly put it back in its place. 

you guess, there are some things that younghyun forgets, that he misses, but never the big picture. 

you’re tempted to turn the pages over, but respect his privacy nonetheless. it might be lyrics he’s not ready to show anyone yet, and you of all people know what it’s like to write something new, a genre you haven’t dipped your pen in yet. it’s quite the daunting experience to bring it into the world, for other inquisitive eyes to read. 

most of the time, younghyun’s words are never amiss. in fact, they always fall in the category of perfect, for you. you don’t like to admit that because he will never believe you, so it’s best to keep it a secret for yourself. 

you enjoy his new releases better that way, making you feel more special in a sense that you’ve heard his melodies first. you’ve heard the stories behind these metaphors face to face. 

you wish you could see him face to face right now. 

before you forget, you pull out your phone and pull up younghyun’s messages with you. your text was sent three hours ago, and it was read which made you think okay, he’s seen it and acknowledged the fact that you’re coming over, maybe he’ll reply once he gets a break soon. 

he never did. 

you scroll up to the previous messages, a lot of back and forth short phrased responses that don’t mean as much as the way you guys would constantly bombard each other with long conversations. 

have you eaten? yeah, a lot. you? yup, out with a friend rn. ight, stay safe. u too. 

r u asleep? no, in the studio. oh, it’s super late. yeah, working on stuff. alright, text me when u’re home? i’ll try. 

he never did. 

feeling a tear fall down to your cheek, you wipe it away roughly and begin to type another text. 

i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. do you remember our promise? please respond.

your hand hovers on the send button for longer than you thought, and you bite your lip in anticipation for a decision so foggy in your brain. should you? should you be this upfront and accusatory? it’s not that bad, right, because he did promise. and now you’re here, the only one taking care of that promise— what’s his excuse?

i’m at the dorm. the boys didn’t know i’d be here. are you coming back soon? is what you sent instead, feeling the lump on your throat getting bigger and your eyes welling up hot, salty tears. you try to compose yourself. sitting on the edge of his bed, hands going over his white sheets as a way to ground yourself. 

you can’t cry, the walls are too thin and dowoon or wonpil will know. and wonpil will be too polite to leave you alone, and dowoon wouldn’t know how to confront the situation and just run to his room leaving wonpil by himself. 

it felt like forever that you wake up uncomfortable lying down on younghyun’s bed. you blink a few times before sitting up straight, your side hurting from the way you fell asleep on the mattress. you straighten out the right half of your hair that had been messed up having plopped down on the pillow, and look for your phone in your purse. 

it has been an hour since you got here, and no new notifications on your phone. 

you have had a fair share of getting stood up on blind dates before meeting younghyun, and at one point you stopped caring. boys don’t deserve your tears, you’ve never even met them and if they thought you were fooled by their persona online, then they were dead wrong.

but this is younghyun, the guy who proved himself different. the guy who came to your first date spot prim and proper, an hour earlier than the designated time. to think you were actually going to cancel this one because it was too tiring, too predictable at this point. 

but seeing his selfie that day, a table already reserved for the two of you and you haven’t even gotten ready yet, you felt guilty for assuming so wrongly of him. 

two years later, you’re thinking you should have listened to your gut all this time. 

as you are about to leave and practice what you have to say to the boys in the living room, the door opens and in comes a disheveled looking younghyun. his coat hangs on his arm, his hair a little haggard but his smile soon disappears upon seeing you invading his space. 

“oh, you’re here.”

oh? you’re here?

you stand up from the bed, eyes directly staring at him just five feet away from you even though he feels like a galaxy away with that kind of answer. 

“did you look at the texts i sent you?” you deadpan, trying your hardest not to seem fragile. 

younghyun shakes his head, plops the coat on his dresser and shrugs. “i’ve been busy, did you need something?” 

“you don’t remember?” 

he stands rigidly, his own fox like eyes avoiding your burning stare. they focus on the wall, with his lips in a tight line. 

he looks different to you. 

there’s something about the younghyun in front of you that makes you question your presence in his room. and how unwanted he’s making you feel. 

“younghyun, what’s going on?” 

“what do you mean by that?”

“don’t play dumb with me. you promised, hell, we promised we would see each other tonight,” you remind him, your voice rising a pitch higher and it strains your throat. you drop your purse on his bed, and cross your arms defensively. 

anything to make you feel safer in the cold that has entered the room once he got in. 

“something came up, i’m sorry. you know how work has been,” younghyun explains nonchalantly, still refusing to see you. refusing to tell you the truth with his eyes. 

it’s not enough anymore. 

“you could have texted? you could have let wonpil or dowoon or even sungjin tell me that , you’re busy, you can’t even do that?” 

“i don’t want to bother them.”

“well, younghyun, guess what? you’re bothering me!” your sudden outburst causes him to turn towards you, eyes wide and brows furrowed. 

they definitely heard that, and they’re definitely listening from the outside. but any worries about your image towards his friends had gone out the window by now, only to be left with an ounce of desperation for an explanation. an answer. an apology, even. 

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you’re scared to break off the eye contact at this point. you’re determined to tell him you’re not really mad, just frustrated. you’re not holding a grudge, you just want to hear it from him that he didn’t mean to do this to you. that he didn’t mean to hurt you this way.

your vision gets blurry, but you force the tears to pool over your eyes and not fall down. not right now, not when his gaze is steel and intimidating. 

“i’m leaving, stay as much as you’d like but i’m not going to be back until midnight,” he dismisses  you, grabbing his coat to bring it with him. 

a scorn burns on your mouth, words tasting like lead when you say: “leave, that’s all you know how to do.”

this stops him from his tracks. a pin can drop in the middle of the room, and you still can’t hear it. your thoughts are screaming, a headache forming on your temples not understanding how it’s come to this so suddenly. 

you didn’t mean that, but now your tears are saying sorry for you. you sob standing up, arms on either side and hands shaking from the pent up frustration popping out of your veins. 

you’re tired, so tired of being the one to adjust. of being the one to stay when he leaves, and foolishly wait for him to come back. only that he doesn’t, and this time he probably never will anymore.

“pull yourself together,” younghyun tells you, tone hinting pity which aggravates you further. he doesn’t look as mad anymore, but his shoulders are tense and his eyes fierce. “we can talk later. i have dinner with heejin and i still need to record kiss the radio later—”

“dinner? with who?” you snap, tears momentarily stopping with the mention of a name you’re unfamiliar of. “when did you schedule this? could it not have waited after tonight when i have been asking you for some time together for this very day?” 

younghyun rakes his fingers through already unkempt hair forcefully, distaste in his mouth as he shoots back at you, “i told you i’ve been busy, heejin and i have a song together and it’s supposed to come out in two days so we’re meeting up as much as we can—”

“yeah, okay. over dinner, at a fancy restaurant away from a recording studio, am i right?”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“younghyun, it’s my fucking birthday,” you talk over him, your voice speaking over the loud beating of your heart. sweat drips down your temple, the headache hammering itself on your skull as the tears escape down the surface of warm cheeks. suddenly, you hear yourself laughing. monotonous, without emotion, as you see younghyun’s scowl snap into a look of confusion, then of realization. 

“i know what the fuck i’m talking about, brian. and from the looks of it, you don’t. you never did.” 

“you should have told me—”

“and i need to remind you of that? after knowing each other for years?” you snap back. the walls vibrate with the volume of your cries, and you hear a knock on the door and a person asking if everything is alright. 

younghyun looks back, but doesn’t respond and turns to you with pained eyes, a fine line between guilt and feeling bitter. he knows he should have remembered. besides, your first date with him was on your birthday too. 

“enjoy your fucking evening, brian. i’ll see myself out,” you mutter under hot breath, breathing hard and eyes red. grabbing your purse, you walk past the man you thought you knew. and now he just feels cold. 

it stings when he grabs you, and he loosens his grip when you exclaim loudly. ���brian, stop.”

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry i fucked up.”

“it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“yes, yes it does,” he pleads, pulling you closer to his body. you shiver, not liking the way he presses into you with a desperate attempt to forgive him. maybe if it wasn’t today, you’d drown yourself in his needy touches, inhale the scent you miss having all over your skin, kiss younghyun on the lips and understand he’s human too. 

not anymore, not when all the chances you have given him were taken for granted, and there’s nothing left inside of you to give him another one. you’re all out, exhausted from the waiting, the forgiving, the crying. exhausted from it all. 

“younghyun, let me go. please. i’m tired.” 

he hesitates, but once you pull yourself off him he releases his stone cold grip. your eyes hover downward, face sticky from the tears you have shed. 

no more. 

coming out of his room, wonpil and dowoon are nowhere to be found anymore. it was only sungjin, sitting by the island counter, scrolling on his phone absent-mindedly. he notices your presence, looks up and offers you that warm smile of his even if his eyes sympathize with your heartbroken gaze.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispers. 

you close your eyes, shake your head and offer a grateful smile. for him. “not your fault. i’m sorry you had to hear that. please let the others know i’m deeply sorry.” 

“text me when you get home, okay?” sungjin hops off the barstool and places his hand on your shoulder this time, transferring the kind of warmth you have been needing all day, all week. 

you know he’s just being kind, roped into the tail end of your disastrous break up with younghyun so you nod once. he doesn’t take it and adds, “i’m serious. if i don’t hear from you, i will text you. multiple times. you’ve seen me do it.” 

with no escape from his compromise, you emit a small laugh and firmly nod this time. “okay, sungjin. thank you.”

“happy birthday, by the way,” he consoles you, and you do your best to keep another wave of pain locked up. you thank him, accepting the side hug he offers you, and make your way out the door. 

as the breeze outside doesn’t do well in vanishing the evident sadness on your expression. you walk the streets of the city holding in a breath, careful not to attract too much attention to your lonely self.

you get home barely alive, shoes left on the doorstep and your clothes slithered off on the hallway. you text sungjin what he wanted to hear, and once you’ve landed on your bed, you let it all out again. 

birthdays were never really a favorite “holiday” of yours before you met younghyun on this very same day two years ago. 

it was as if being alive on this earth for another year was a favor given to you by fate, having to know younghyun even more as the days go by past it. as much as he created meaning to your birthday for the past two years, this time, younghyun had destroyed everything you built together. 

the pieces are too small, much too fragile to make your heart whole again.

[only-kiwi]

Demons V

okayyy let’s try this again. just posted this but it got deleted so it’s round two. i’m very proud of this chapter so i hope you love this. i love u all - mya x

TW: mentions of self harm, mentions of sexual assault, depression, eating disorder, use of drugs, swearing, age gap (19/24)

Three weeks. It had been three weeks and they hadn’t spoken to each other once. They didn’t even know why. Billie was racking her brain trying to find reasons as to why Harry wasn’t texting her. And Harry was racking his brain with things to say to her. It had all gotten a bit weird after the party.

The morning after the party, Billie woke up feeling worse than she had in a while. It was the guilt and shame of relapsing, she figured. There were so many voices and thoughts in her head and she wanted to scream. She couldn’t let Harry see that. Before, she could have told him any and everything and knew he wouldn’t just her but now, she only felt annoying and embarrassed when she spoke to him about these things. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t him making her feel this way. It was her making her feel this way.

Harry thought that maybe it was the kiss. He thought he made her uncomfortable. She enjoyed it, yes, but he was her only true friend and he ruined that. The party felt like it didn’t even happen, like it was all a dream. He woke up that next morning with Billie’s back to him and he couldn’t help but feel complete with her there. Now, his bed was cold and lonely like it used to be.

Harry would have felt better if he’d seen Billie and therapy but he didn’t and even though he was worried, he didn’t know what to do. She probably just didn’t want to see him. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed.

i fucked up.

He was worried. Three weeks of no talking and this is the first thing she says. It can’t have been that bad, he thought. But he doesn’t think she would have messaged him otherwise.

Are you okay?

something really bad happened. i wasn’t going to tell anyone but it’s all i can think about. idk what to do.

What did you do?

can i come over?

It didn’t take Billie long to get to Harry’s, maybe around ten minutes or so. Which was weird because it was usually and twenty minute drive from her house. Billie can’t have been at home when she messaged him, it worried him a bit. His doorbell rang and he ran to the door embarrassingly fast. Billie didn’t look good. She looked like she hadn’t slept, like she had been crying. Her eyes were tired and her hair was a mess. The last time she looked like this was the time Harry went to her house after she saw Willow with Claudia for the first time.

“Hey,” her voice was weak - broken, even. All Harry could do was pull the younger girl into w hug. Whatever she was going through, it seemed awful, and he needed to be there for her. As soon as his arms were wrapped around her she started crying. Neither of them knew how long they were standing there for but it didn’t matter. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What happened?” Harry asked slowly, pulling away to look at Billie. “Come sit, I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Billie was sat on his sofa with a blanket wrapped around her as she waited for her tea and she suddenly felt at home. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and forget about what she had done. She didn’t want to talk about it, even though she knew she had to tell someone before she exploded. Harry’s voice made her jump slightly as he walked out of the kitchen and he instantly apologised and he placed the tea in her hands.

“I’m sorry to just spring this all on you. You probably have other things to worry about, I just-“

“You have nothing you be sorry for, B.” Harry assured her. “You don’t need to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, you know?”

“I know, but I have to tell someone. You’re the only one I can trust.” The corners of his lips curled up slightly at her words. “I haven’t been home in a week.”

“What? Where have you been? Were you safe? Are you hurt?”

“Willow texted me, saying that she needed to see me. And I know I shouldn’t have gone because I can’t keep letting her do this to me but I went anyway. She told me that her and Claudia broke up and she seemed really torn up about it. The same way I was with her. A part of me was actually glad she got to feel like that, it makes me sound bad but it’s true. But even after all of that, I wanted to be there for her.” Billie’s eyes were fixated on the mug in her hands, she refused to look at Harry. “I don’t know how it happened, or why it happened. We were both there, and we needed to feel something - anything. I’ve been with her all week.”

Harry nodded as she spoke, taking everything she said in. Billie had been sleeping with Willow again. He knew she was doing it as a way to feel, and he couldn’t fault her for that at all. He just wished she would stop doing this to herself. Harry had been in her shoes. After Robin died, he would find anyone he could just to make him forget and feel something.

“I get it, Billie, I really do. But why are you so torn up about it?”

“Last night she kept trying to do it again but I told her that I wasn’t up to it. She got annoyed at me so I let her do what she wanted. But I just felt so uncomfortable so I asked her to stop - she didn’t. I thought that maybe she didn’t hear me so I asked her again. And again.” Harry knew where this was going so he took the tea out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table, moving closer to her. “I don’t know what came over her or why she didn’t stop. I think she was so clouded by her emotions.”

“Don’t make excuses for her,” Harry said before Billie could continue, “what she did was disgusting. I’m really sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that. Did she hurt you in any way?”

Billie shook her head. “No, she just wouldn’t let me move.” She finally looked up at Harry, how eyes were glossed over with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare. None of this is your fault, okay? She had no right to do that to you.”

“I never should have messaged her back. I never should have gone round. Maybe if I wasn’t so stupid I wouldn’t be here.”

It killed Harry to hear her blame herself, and he didn’t know what to do. So he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He was so selfish, thinking she was ignoring him because of a stupid kiss when she was really going through so much more.

“How about we go upstairs and take a nap, hm?” He asked softly, running his hand through Billie’s hair as she closed her eyes.

“Can we stay down here?” The tired girl muttered. “And can I borrow a jumper?”

Harry breathed out a light laugh, knowing how much she loved wearing his clothes. “Course you can.”

Billie was exhausted. She was broken, confused and hurt. This is a shitty thing to happen to anyone, but she hadn’t expected it to be Willow. Someone she used to be so in love with. She was heartbroken all over again, only this time it was so much worse. Being cuddled up to Harry the way she was now made her feel safe. She was warm and calm and she needed him around. She thought she might have gone completely crazy if she hadn’t texted him.

“My parents are probably so worried,” Billie realised. “Jacob, too.”

“You’ve not spoken to them?” He asked and Billie shook her head. “Where’s your phone?”

When Billie handed Harry her phone, it was already off and he wondered when she last had it on. He could only imagine how many calls and messages she’d gotten from her family. As soon as he turned it on, there were countless messages from her parents and bother asking her where she was and if she was okay. There was one from Jacob this morning saying that their parents were thinking about calling the police. There was a few from Willow, he knew he shouldn’t have read them but he couldn’t help it. Willow hadn’t stopped messaging her all night, it seemed. She asked where Billie went and if she was okay, she even apologised for being ‘too rough’. Harry wanted to be sick. He quickly sent a text to Jacob, making sure everyone knew Billie was safe.

Hi, Jacob it’s Harry. Billie’s safe, she’s been with me for about an hour. I’ll bring her home soon but she really needs some time to rest. I just thought I’d let you know that she’s okay.

Harry didn’t really know what to say. He figured that if Billie wanted to tell them what happened, she would, and it wasn’t his place to do so. He placed her phone on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her once more. He felt her tighten her grip on him slightly, knowing she needed him close. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and wiped away the tears that were soaking his shirt.

“You’re strong, Billie.” He whispered. “You’ve got this.”

***

Billie woke up hours later with an awful headache and puffy eyes. Sleeping didn’t make her feel any better, it just made her forget about everything for a bit. She wouldn’t mind being able to sleep forever.

“Harry?” She called out, wondering why he hadn’t been next to her like she remembered.

Within seconds, he came rushing into the living room. “You’re awake,” he smiled, “are you okay? Do you need anything? I was just making dinner, thought you’d might like something to eat.”

She stared at him, “stop acting weird.”

“I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. You’re acting like I’m gonna break or something. I’d really appreciate it if we could just act like everything’s normal. I don’t want you to walk on eggshells around me.” Billie told him. Harry didn’t realise he was actually weird, he just really wanted her to be okay.

“Sorry, I just want you to feel a bit better. So, dinner?” He tried to change the subject.

“I’m not really hungry, Harry.”

“You have to eat something. Even if it’s just a little bit. I know what you’re doing and it’s not good, don’t do this to yourself.” Harry’s eyes practically begged Billie to eat literally anything. Because if she didn’t, she would stop again. And no one wanted that.

“Okay,” she stuttered. She hadn’t eaten properly in a while, she’d been so wrapped up in Willow that food didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t even release how hungry she was.

Harry decided it would be a good idea to put a movie on while they were eating. It would distract Billie and she wouldn’t think about the food too much. He let her pick the movie, and she opted for her all time favourite - Love, Rosie.

“Fucking love this film.” Harry told her, making her smile slightly.

“It’s my favourite. I like how it’s not so straight forward.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most films make out love to be this amazing thing and it is but it’s also unrealistic. This shows that it’s not easy to fall in love, and even when you do, it’s still not easy. Things always get in the way.” She shrugged, sipping her water. Harry thought for a minute, and she was right. He wasn’t stupid, he knew love wasn’t what it seemed, but he didn’t think of the movie in that way. Billie’s next question, however, caught him off guard. “Have you ever been in love?”

He nodded, “once.”

“Kendall?”

“Oh, god. No!” He scrunched up his nose. “I liked her a lot but I definitely wasn’t in love with her.”

“Then who?”

He thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell her. Of course, she wouldn’t judge him. He had just never really told anyone other than his family and closest friends. He trusted her, though, and she had been so open with him that he figured he could to the same.

“His name was Elijah.” Harry smiled at the memory. “Long story short - we were in love, and then we weren’t. Well, he wasn’t.”

“How old were you?”

“Not much younger than you, actually, I was only eighteen. But we broke up when we were twenty.”

“I didn’t know you were bi. You’re bi, right? Or do you just prefer not to say?” Billie hated assuming someone’s sexuality, so even if Harry liked women and men, he might not have liked any labels.

“I prefer not to say, I don’t think labels really mean anything. Of course, they’re helpful to some people but for me, I don’t really need them.” Billie smiled, for some reason, she felt a lot closer to Harry... like she knew every part of him now. Maybe she was being silly, maybe it didn’t man that much to him. But to her, it was everything. “I think we should be getting you home now, B.”

Billie groaned, “Mum’s gonna drive me up the wall.”

“You did disappear for a week.”

“I wish I just stayed at home. None of this would have happened.” Billie picked at her nails.

“Hey, what did I say? This isn’t your fault, stop blaming yourself.”

“Easier said than done, H.”

***

Billie tried closing the door quietly so no one heard her come in. It was fairly late so she prayed everyone was already in bed.

“Billie?” She heard her father called from the kitchen. Shit. She walked into the kitchen, dreading the conversation she was about to have. Billie barely spoke to her dad anymore. After coming out to her family as bisexual, he took it the worst and was a lot harsher to her than he used to be. Billie decided it was best to keep out of each other’s way. “Where have you been?”

He was so calm, it was alarming. Usually, he always shouted at her. Maybe he was so mad, he couldn’t even yell. Either way, Billie was nervous. “Dad,” she started.

“No,” he shook his head, “you scared us, you know?”

She did? “I did?”

“Jacob’s barely slept because he was hoping you’d show up in the middle of the night. Your mum and I have been thinking the worst. Anything could have happened to you.”

“I know, but I was safe.” Mostly. “I don’t know why you even care.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t know why you even care.” Billie said, louder so her father could hear. She knew she shouldn’t have said that, she should have just apologised and gone to bed. But with everything on her mind, she had to let it out.

“Of course I care, why would you think that?”

“Because it’s true! This is the longest conversation we’ve had in months because all you ever do is ignore me or have a go. I get that I’m difficult to handle but sometimes - forget it.”

Her father’s heart broke. He hadn’t realised he was treating his daughter this way. Or maybe he did. “You can talk to me, B.” He choked out.

“Ever since I told you about Willow, I feel like you hate me. I know how you and mum feel about me being bi and I get it but it’s like since that conversation, you guys just hate me. Especially you, dad.” Billie had tears in her eyes and she was forcing them to stay in. She had never voiced these thoughts to anyone, not even Harry, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“I don’t- I could never.” The older man stuttered.

“It’s okay, dad.”

“No,” he shook his head, “it isn’t. You’re my daughter, Billie. My first born. I could and will never hate you, no matter what. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. There’s no excuse, and I wish I had something more to give you than just an apology.”

Billie was crying now, so was her father. She didn’t know how much she needed this until now. She was sure they would have some difficult times, but didn’t most families? But from now on, she knew that her father cared about her and loved her. He pulled her in for a hug and they stayed like that for a while, Billie can’t remember the last time she hugged her dad.

“I love you, Billie.” Her father told her, and she looked up at him like he was crazy. He hadn’t told her he loved her in years. “All the things happening in your life are things you can’t control, and it was stupid of me to think otherwise. You can’t help who you love, or how your brain works. Nothing is your fault and I’m sorry again for making you feel the way you do.”

“Thanks, dad.” She smiled. “And I love you, too.”

“Y-you don’t have to tell me, but where were you this week?”

“I was with Willow.”

“Oh? Are you back together? Maybe we can meet her this time.” Billie could tell he was trying, but her heart ached.

“We’re not back together. I don’t think I’ll ever see her again if I’m honest.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” she lied before changing the subject. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Decided to work from home. Why don’t we do something? Just the two of us, like how we used to.”

“I would love that, dad.”

Her father smiled, and so did she. She was truly happy right now. The older man announced that he was going to bed, telling Billie not to stay down there too long and to get some sleep as well. She told him she would be up soon, she just wanted a cup of tea before bed (and maybe a snack). As the kettle boiled, her phone buzzed.

Sleep well. Remember that nothing is your fault and you don’t deserve any of this. You’re amazing. H x

Billie smiled at her phone. She liked Harry more than she was willing to admit, she just wished it wasn’t all happening now. When he said things like this though, it was hard not to like him like that. You’re amazing. He thinks I’m amazing. It was beyond her that he could think this way about her, because she didn’t think she was amazing at all. She wondered if the kiss meant anything to him, because he hadn’t mentioned it. Did he like her? Did he like the kiss? Or was he just sad and lonely?

[namjachingujuseyo]

The Blanket Under the Bed

The day we broke up took quite a toll on me. We were together for so long... we moved in together and we were pretty much ready to tie the knot. Unfortunately, he changed his mind and felt like he did not get to enjoy himself through all those years. He said he felt tied to me...

I don’t understand... we could have done those things, he could have done those things. We had full trust in each other... but ok... I just let him go. There was no point arguing, it was over because he felt it so. He needed to travel and learn more about himself and blah blah. Whatever, Seraphina and I were left in the condo. Maybe now she’d probably sleep with me on the bed, you know. So I don’t feel lonely now that James is gone.

Seraphina had this weird tendency to sleep under our bed so I don’t know how she would enjoy sleeping on a mattress. We tried getting a bed for her under there but she would always kick it out. She did accept a warm blanket during winter though. She nudges it away during summer and drags it back out during winter.

Well, that habit did not change and Seraphina completely refused to sleep with me on the bed. She liked her spot under the bed and that was where she was going to stay. There were times when James and I could hear growling from her at certain times of the night. That was only when we would wake up for some reason. That didn’t happen often to us so we figured she was dreaming and it woke one of us up. We never bothered to look under the bed because if it was an intruder, she would be full on barking. Thankfully that was never an issue.

Even after James was gone, There were times within that following year when Seraphina would wake me up to dream growling. That night was one year since James decided to pack his bags and go. We didn’t keep in contact so I had no idea what he was up to.

6 months later, I awoke in the morning very shook and gasping from a horrible dream. I called to Seraphina but she didn’t heed my call. I called again, with panic in my voice. Still nothing. I climbed out of bed and looked under the bed. She wasn’t there...

I walked to the kitchen, and there she was... motionless...

I called out once more. Nothing... she was just lying there, unresponsive... Seraphina’s time had come...

I stumbled to my knees and crawled to her, crying. My nerves were already altered from the dream I had, but now finding my lifeless dog... my nerves were shot. It took me a while to compose myself after hugging her and telling her how much she had meant to me.

It was so overbearing, loosing James and now Seraphina...

I spent so many days and nights just with the lights and tv on... didn’t even really sleep in my bed... too many fond memories... memories of James... memories of cuddles... of Seraphina’s growls... I could not stay in there. Sometimes I wouldn’t even spend the night in the condo.

Eventually I started getting a hold of myself... and spent my time regularly at the condo, like a normal person would I guess. I thought about moving but, there was no need to move just because of the memories attached to it. It was a great place, a great price and not too distant from work.

One night, I was finally able to go to bed at 11pm, which was about the normal time James and I would go to bed. Seraphina wouldn’t join us until midnight. She would wander around the condo, checking the kitchen, living room, hallway, bathrooms, and extra room. It never bothered me before, but now that I look back on it... it was kind of odd... but Seraphina was a pretty odd dog anyway. We just thought she was being a protective mother or something.

I woke up approximately 4 hours later feeling very disturbed. I sat up in alarm and panting a little. There was a light on in my blurred vision. I turned on the light in the room and rubbed my eyes. I guess I forgot to turn off the light in the kitchen and I just remembered it now. Made my way down there and turned off the light. I went back to bed but let my light on in the room.

The next day I traveled to see my family and gave them the update about James and Seraphina. It had been a good while that we had all gathered together. It was nice. I took a week off and had a friend check in on the condo from time to time during the week.

On my return, I was so exhausted that I asked my friend that picked me up to stay with me because I wasn’t quite ready to be alone again after my family gathering. She agreed and stayed in the spare room.

The following morning, I woke up to find my friend sleeping with me. She looked as if she didn’t sleep so well so I let her rest some more. Eventually she got up after a few more hours.

She proceeded to ask me some questions about how I was doing and how I was dealing being here alone. My responses were truthful but for the most part I was ok, nothing out of the ordinary.

She then took a breath and paused before telling me the following.

“The entire time you’ve lived here, neither you nor James ever had any strange things happen?”

I shook my head no.

“Last night...” she paused, staring out the window, unsure how to syntactically say the rest of what she wanted. “ I woke up feeling uneasy. I thought maybe it was because I too was so tired that I couldn’t sleep well. Maybe because I was not in my own bed... I turned around and saw the Kitchen light on... I explicitly remember turning it off, Pheran. I remember darkness before placing my head on the pillow. I went to check it out and saw nothing. No one broke in, door and windows were as we left them.”

“Go on...” I replied with a strange look, sitting down and grabbing my tea and handing her one as well. She started looking spooked.

“I, um... turned the light off and went back to bed. I thought maybe you did it or maybe I did forget. I went straight to bed after turning off the light. about another hour later... I woke up again... on this time... the light in my room was turned on...”

A shiver went down both of us at that moment.

“I woke up in alarm of course! I grabbed my stuff and i ran to your room. I turned off the light of course... but... i just booked it. I saw you there dead asleep so I knew if anyone was in the condo I was going to have to man it alone... but no one ever showed up... it was just you and I. I stared down the hallway for a long time before eventually falling asleep but... I don’t know... It really scared me, Pheran. You don’t think it’s Seraphina do you?”

I had no idea what She was going on about but I had no way to explain to her about this occurrence, I told her it was probably some type of circuit malfunction. There were times when James and I would wake up and find a light on or a faucet running even though it was off. We talked to the building manager and we were not the only ones with this issue, These things usually happened when maintenance crew came and did... well... maintenance. I had not been keeping up with the schedule since James and Seraphina... so, it was easy to blame it on that.

A few days passed and I was sleeping when I woke up, again with lights visible in my blurry vision. I immediately felt very off... something was not right. There was no maintenance in the past few days and I turned everything off. Yet, the hallway lights were on... I stared down the hallway, letting my vision adjust and just stared... nothing ever happened but I felt uneasy and didn’t fall back asleep.

About a week or so later. I woke up in complete distress and complete alarm. My eyes just opened wide and I was wide awake. I had the strongest urge to hide under the bed. It was so bad that the voice inside my head was screaming. WIthout hesitation I just followed that instinct and hid under the bed. Seraphina’s blanket was still there. I rolled onto it not realizing until I was already on it. I missed her so much...

i snuggled into the blanket and looked down the hallway... the kitchen light turned on...

My heart began to race.

I then saw feet, bare feet come out of the kitchen and walk down the hallway and disappear into the spare bedroom. The light in there turned on... nothing for a few seconds, then the feet were back... walking to the spare bathroom, turning on that light... and then making its way to my bedroom... I followed the feet with my eyes very, very carefully... They entered, but the lights did not turn on and the feet just stood there... like... if they were afraid to come in.

They took a hesitant step into the room and waited... nothing. After a few seconds, they began walking around the room... no noise, very stealthily... they looked like children’s feet but were not quite small enough. They went from my side of the bed to the other side. Walked to the window, the closet and finally the end of the bed. I held my position and breathed shallow. I made myself non-existent. Seraphina’s blanket helped.

Somehow, I could feel her presence there, like... she was telling me to stay hidden under the bed holding her blanket. My gut feeling was telling me to do the same. So I stayed under the bed.

The feet seemed to have gotten bored waiting in my room and left back the way they came. They didn’t go into the rooms again but as it passed them, the lights turned off. When it reached the kitchen, the feet stopped and stayed there planted in my view. They slowly faded away, seeming disappointed. I am not sure how but that’s what it felt like. As the last remaining trace disappeared, the feeling I had since waking was gone. The condo felt normal again. Even Seraphina’s presence disappeared. A few seconds after the kitchen lights turned off and I was back again in complete darkness.

It felt safe enough to crawl out of under the bed and hop onto it. I did so, taking the blanket with me. I began to cry, holding the blanket and eventually crying myself to sleep.

The following day, I cut up Seraphina’s Blanket into four pieces. I placed one on each door the feet had visited. My bedroom door, bathroom door, and spare room door. I was unsure of where place the last piece. The feet came from inside the kitchen but disappeared at the end of the hallway where the living room and kitchen meet, so I decided to leave it under the plant on a table that was nearby. I do not know what that experience was but this seemed like the right thing to do. I feel like placing Seraphina’s presence everywhere the feet went would prevent the feet from returning.

So far it’s been successful, but there are nights where I wake up to the sound of growling... Seraphina’s growling specific...