#I want y'all to know that I never once felt uncomfortable during that dream

[invis-here]

this is based pretty closely on a dream I had the other night so... make of that what you want and enjoy.

(710 words, cults, ssc, lesbians, ocs/self-insert)

Klara stepped into the grand hall of the desecrated church and let her eyes wander. Next to her she could hear the awed mumbles of her coven sisters and she had to agree. Never before had they been surrounded by such lavish decorations, long tables lined with plush chairs and laid in gold and crystal. Red and black velvet were swallowing the noise as acolytes in all black robes hurried around.

The sisters were guided to their seats by one of the robed figures and even though they were seated between other guests and acolytes, Klara didn't feel nervous or scared. She was perfectly calm as the person to her left struck up pleasant conversation. Their face was covered by thick black fabric, leaving only their eyes and mouth free, but it didn't register as odd to her. Everything Klara had learned about the temple so far had prepared her for this evening.

Caught up in pleasant conversation she hadn't even noticed the grandmaster appear on the steps before the alter but as Their attendant announced Them with the chime of a silver bell, the room was quickly blanketed with silence and all eyes were laid on Them. They were robed in blood red silk and velvet, Their face covered by a horned, silver devil's mask with a leering expression.

Their voice was pleasant yet awe-inspiring, maskuline yet feminine. They took great care to welcome the visiting covens that had eagerly followed Their invitation to the feast.

While They had been speaking, the tables had been laid with exquisite delicacies from all corners of the world and once Their speech had concluded, delightful conversation among guests and acolytes picked back up, now underlined by the clinking of silver- and glassware.

The smells of good food wove around a hundred voices and pearling laughter, making the first part of the evening fly by in no time.

Soon Klara found herself standing at the edge of a table, nursing a glass of juice, watching the people around her. As was her nature, she was keenly watching her surroundings, so she immediately noticed the elegantly dressed lady walking up to her.

She was dressed in a flowy gown that bore the same red shade as the grandmaster's, though hers was cut much simpler. The colour alone marked her as an important figure within the Temple, but Klara couldn't place her other than that. The woman's face was slender, framed by grey locks that had fallen from the braid that was draped over her shoulder. A small silver pendant was nestled between her collar bones.

"Good evening, dear," the woman said, holding a hand out that Klara easily graced with the incline of her head and a curtsy as she returned her hand.

The stranger introduced herself as Marice, a name that rang beautifully in Klara's ears. Marice, Klara learned, was kind, intelligent, and an excellent partner in conversation.

Eventually, Marice offered Klara a hand again and asked: "Would you like to dance with me?"

Klara was happy to agree to being led off by the gorgeous woman, she felt safe following her away from the tables and towards the cleared space in front of the altar.

When Marice didn't stop to integrate with the other swaying couples, Klara was confused for a moment but it all made sense, when she was led to the pews that were placed against the far wall and Marice gently pulled her onto her lap, face to face.

"Would you like this?" Marice asked, as she rocked up the leg Klara was straddling, making her intentions clear.

"Please," Klara didn't hesitate to agree, grinding herself back against Marice, making her eagerness clear. She would have never in her wildest dreams hoped to have this but now that it was almost in reach, she wanted to please her gorgeous partner. Even just the small question, obtaining her consent let Klara know that she would be safe. She had absolutely no doubt about that.

"Good girl," Marice rewarded her. "Come here." She gently placed a hand on Klara's neck, pulling her into a kiss. Klara had never been kissed like that. She had never been kissed, period. But this felt so right. Marice was so patient with her and in return Klara was putty in her hands. She could feel how she was soaking through her underwear, the fabric makind the friction against Marice's leg even more intense and Klara wanted more.

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

idk if I will ever continue this because right around this part is where I woke up lol. I'm also not sure if I'll put this on ao3 but for now, it's for y'all heathens <3

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭

Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol

Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.

He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.

"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"

Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.

You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”

The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.

“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"

He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."

"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."

Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."

Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.

Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."

He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.

You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.

When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.

"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.

"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.

"You can stay here if you want to."

"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.

"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."

You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."

Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"

You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.

Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"

Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."

He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"

You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."

He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"

And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."

And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.

"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."

His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."

"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"

You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."

Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."

Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."

And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.

"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.

"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.

"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."

"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."

Masterlist | Part 2

[asmo-ds]

Ok this may be weird but I have to know. I was told the demon bros can get pregnant during there heat. What if there MC has female organs and wants to have a baby but they cant from medical reasons. Would the brothers be willing to carry the baby for there MC?

Brothers Carry Infertile MC's Baby

Warnings: Infertility, Male Pregnancy, heat, NSWF-ish, mention of abortion read at your own risk

A/N: IM BACK BABY whats good, whats poppin, how y'all doing anyway here some content

- Male pregnancy wasn't very common in the devildom, but it was possible and did happen sometimes

- So he wasn't totally opposed to it, perhaps a bit anxious to be seen with a baby bump in public, but still willing to try if it would please MC

- When he initially became pregnant he was overjoyed with love for his child and MC but soon grew full of agonizing sickness and other pregnancy symptoms

- with his work piling up in front of him and him having to deal with these symptoms he eventually made his way to Diavolo shamefully asking for some time off, which Dia gladly agreed to

- He was cranky and had sore feet constantly, he was mostly worried about the fact he could barely watch over his brothers in his state though, since chasing them or hanging Mammon could prove to be too difficult on his body and end up hurting the baby.

- At first he refused to have a child at all with MC, not because he didn't want a kid, but just because he was scared MC would love the kid more than they loved him.

- My mans eventually began to have dreams about babies with MC and how they'd all look exactly like his human and eventually agreed to have MC's kid

- He gets a lot of grimm for posing for demon male pregnancy magazines, since as I stated previously Males were often pregnant so people were willing to pay big bucks for pregnant males, ESPECIALLY if one of those males was a demon lord

- He was whiney and cried a lot, constantly having too many emotions for his head to wrap around at once

- but he was always thankful for the fact that the pregnancy prevented Lucifer from punishing him as MC would always fight Lucifer to protect their child

-WAHHH THIS IS JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME WHERE THE GUY GOT PREGNANT OMG

- Jealous of the unborn child when he sees how excited it makes MC

- Hates being pregnant the entire time, refuses to get photos taken of him

- But he does like eating normal food instead of junk food all day since Lucifer insisted they had a healthy a child and basically spoonfed his brother to ensure he and the human had the perfect child

- Would narrate his anime and games to the baby when they were alone, even though it probably couldn't hear him

- Angery pregnant man

- He knows anger isnt good for the baby but he was just gonna have to accept the fact that his child would be just as angry as him

- he loves being pregnant when he remembers its the beginning of him and MC's family, and when he reads to his baby bump at night, but other than that he hates it

- if it were anyone else he wouldn't have agreed to carry their baby

- feet hurt, tummy hurt, everything hurt he angery

- very excited for pregnant fun stuff ;)

- loves the way his skin glows when he's pregnant

- hates the cravings though, they make him feel gross and yucky

- he does pregnancy workout vids and holy crap he is so good at them

- i think he might've done them before

- he's also been pregnant before, the pregnancy was always just terminated since he never really felt ready to settle down

- also has a million maternity photos

- CRAVINGS LIKE OH mY DIAVOLO I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH ODD CRAVINGS

- is super happy most of the pregnancy though

- he just wants to have a family with MC no matter the cost, he loves them and family is one of his biggest goals

- hates the morning sickness though, feels like he's wasting food

- he wouldn't carry the baby, I honestly think he'd be really uncomfortable with it

- I think he wouldn't really feel comfortable with a family in the first place as he is always too tired to even take care of himself

- knows he wouldn't be able to care for the child properly

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 19

First time reader click here

Summary+TWs: We're talking serious feelings here, okay? Reader, you're literally emotionally illiterate. You also have PTSD, which is finally addressed - kinda. Bruce does his best. And he also knows how to kiss... But y'all know that if you read my ramblings about lucid dreaming/shifting/whatever... Chile-, anyways...

My phone kept buzzing and I ignored it until Bruce declared it was time to take a break and review the results. Whilst the man was typing up the data on a nearby StarkPad, I fought the sudden influx of messages that I received from haters and supporters alike after Tony decided on tweeting a reply that could be interpreted in an alarming variety of ways. It was a smart move, I'll admit, but a fucking bother for me nonetheless.

Disabling my DMs and dealing with a follower increase in the thousands wasn't hard; I didn't consider myself a problematic asshole and didn't need to be afraid of "exposure". The parties I went to - I doubted there was any blackmail material in there and the few nudes I'd sent over the years were always face-less. As a gen Z, I knew my internet safety.

The trolls didn't bother me either. It was more sad than annoying, people shitting on others for clout. Iron Man stans were witty, at least, if jealous. I must admit I've never considered the influx of popularity I would experience should I publicly out myself as a friend of Tony's. Girlfriend? Intern? Science child? Whatever cover story he was going to feed the press worked for me, as long as I still got the hugs, the kisses, the dick and the attention.

"Tony..." Bruce groaned, evidently done with the data processing, had to have opened his social media to see his own skyrocketing popularity.

"Yeah, our Tony is being a Tony again," I chuckled, having reset my social media settings so my phone wouldn't constantly beep, vibrate and bother me. School was going to be fun.

Bruce shook his head, fond, coming over to my side of the lab after removing his own hazmat suit. His eyes shiny with newfound knowledge and hair turned adorably fluffy in the confines of the head covering. He was smiling softly. "Food?"

"Sure."

We chewed our sandwiches in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"I still can't believe Tony told everyone on Twitter you're his girlfriend, usually he keeps this stuff private or schedules a fancy press conference," Bruce's tone was thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what it was? Seemed ambiguous to me..." I trailed off, confused.

"He worded it like that on purpose, I mean, you're still in high school," The scientist was confident in his words. "But I know Tony. I'm a hundred percent sure that he meant exactly that. Aren't you?"

Shock flooded me. Suddenly, I understood I completely misread the situation. "Um, no? I thought we were, y'know, just fucking. We never defined our relationship and we're definitely not exclusive." I said, chewing on my lip. "You make a valid argument, I'm a high school student and he's a grown ass man that does grown man stuff. Putting aside the fact that he could have anybody in the world so why would he choose me?" I was rambling, thinking out loud. Discussing my feelings has never my strong forte. "It would be stupid to impose monogamy on such a complex man like Tony. Downright idiotic to expect a genius to confine to social norms just because it suits others." I finished with a wave of my hand. Another bubble of thought that had festered within me for the longest time. I felt relieved, finally voicing it out loud. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I wasn't previously consciously aware of.

Bruce was watching me intently, with an unreadable expression that held the tiniest bit of awe, admiration perhaps. The silence that followed was unnerving. I fidgeted with my hands, not really knowing where to put them or where to look.

"You know," He took off his glasses, fiddling them in his hands. "I'm not going to sugar coat it. For the longest time, I thought you were going to inadvertently hurt him when you get bored with whatever you've got going on. I respect you, don't misunderstand me, but you are young. Now, I've changed my mind. You've changed my mind," He punctuated his statement with his hand on mine, grasping it. "I think you managed to understand him in a way most people can't. Or don't want to. Understand and accept him in a way that some of us can't even after years of working and living side by side with him." Bruce's gentle fingers skimmed along the top of my palm.

"I don't always understand Tony but I do accept him," I agreed. "Because Tony is a great man."

"I think you're in love with him," Bruce said, absolutely having ignored my previous statement. Just like that, point blank, he pushed to the surface the very feelings I got so good at ignoring. There was no rest for me in this place.

My heart fluttered, picking up the pace. I kept my mouth shut, not trusting it whatsoever. My thoughts became akin to panicked hares, jumping and zigzagging aimlessly in my skull. I didn't see the point in defending myself because the scientist had pointed out the obvious.

Bruce looked at me, softly, warmly. "And don't think we haven't noticed the rise in team morale. The improvement not only in communication, but on the battlefield, too. It's easier to entrust your back to someone with whom you've shared a laugh and a drink the previous night. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Something warm and wet was on my cheeks. I stared at our clasped hands, his words echoing in my head over and over and over. The moment I realized I was crying, I willed myself to stop and failed spectacularly - only more salty fluid streamed down, some of it getting in my nose, on my lips. The sleepless nights were making me unstable.

It took a single sniffle for Bruce to pick me up and wrap up in his kind embrace. I didn't resist, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto the back of his lab coat, inhaling the smell of his skin and chemicals. It was familiar, calming. Minutes ticked by with me slowly leaking the tension out of my body.

"He loves you, too, maybe he just doesn't realize it yet." Bruce whispered into my hair. "I've never seen Tony so happy, even with Pepper. You are special and you are loved."

There was something unsaid, I felt it. It hung in the ear, it burned the tips of my ears, stood sharp on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Bwucie-bear," I whispered into the space between his ear and his jaw. His arms tightened around me.

The man placed several chaste kisses in my hair, running a palm over my back. In moments like these, the crush for him, the very crush that got out of control, blossomed fully into a deep sense of respect and admiration. He made me feel safe. He said all the right words at the right time.

Drowsiness overtook me. As usual, any worries and anxieties I had evaporated, once Banner had his arms around me, shielding me from the world. I didn't forbid myself this time: delicately, my hand slipped through the man's soft messy curls, eliciting a contented sigh.

"You haven't been sleeping well," He more stated than asked.

I had no choice but to nod. "Clint keeps dying in my dreams. Or even worse, he doesn't, he just suffers, endlessly, painfully." I admitted.

Bruce flinched under me, tensing. My face was in between his hands in a second, the scientist sternly looking into my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything? All of us assumed you were okay after what happened." He looked - angry. Not Hulk-out pissed but Bruce-pissed, which equalled a kicked-puppy look seasoned with a great pinch of disappointment.

"I am okay." I lied, shamelessly. "It's getting better. That's why I want to have a party - relax a little, dance, socialize. I don't think Tony would let me go on my own so I figured I can convince him to throw one here." I looked away. It was better for everyone if I dealt with my own problems - they were superheroes, not babysitters.

Bruce frowned. "Why wouldn't Tony let you go?"

"Because of that one time I snorted coke," I rolled my eyes at Bruce's naiveté, leaving the less obvious parts unsaid. Tony knew exactly what I was going to do once I got free reign, he considered it destructive and told me so himself. Admittedly, he had a point but still... I wished I'd been given a choice.

"I'll talk to him," Bruce nodded firmly. "That's not acceptable. He can't forbid you from making mistakes and learning from them."

He was met with my shrug. No excitement came from me regarding this particular turn of conversation. I was drained, limbs like jello, thoughts sluggish. My face was drooping.

"Let's get you to bed," Banner stood up with me wrapped around him. "You need a nap."

"No," I protested. If I went to sleep now, only Satan knew at what ungodly hour I would wake up.

"Yes, Princess," Bruce smirked. I wiggled uncomfortably - when he went all caretaker like, my ovaries wreaked havoc on my body and brain. My thoughts weren't appropriate if Bruce wanted me to see him as a father figure. The signals he was sending were mixed. People around me did that a lot and I wasn't sure how to act so I usually just went with the flow. I decided to do the very same thing in that particular moment.

Curiosity sparked within me, tightly interwoven with the deep longing that settled below my collarbones whenever Tony or one of the others wasn't sitting next to me or talking my ear off. I've almost forgotten how it was to be alone with my thoughts. The maze of my very own self was becoming unfamiliar territory. Alarming.

I allowed Bruce to help me shed my shoes and outer layer of clothing, shivering in the coolness of my room. Despite being a frequent visitor, I still had a 'guest' room in the tower - I mostly stayed at Tony's or Wanda's anyways. During our sleepovers neither me nor the witch minded sharing her enormous bed, to be fair, we could have fit at least two more people in it besides us. Tony took care of his own - all the tower's residents had their apartments furnished with the best stuff.

"Sleep now, Princess," Bruce chastised, tucking a blanket around me, having noticed an earbud in my ear and my smartphone in my hand. I had hoped to kill some time online, damn well knowing sleep wouldn't come easy.

"I don't think I can fall asleep, Bruce," I admitted, looking away. There was just so much going on. My brain wouldn't shut up and if I couldn't drown out the cacophony by being productive, I'd troll the internet, as usual.

Banner sighed, coming to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. Gently running his fingers through my hair, brushing the outside of his palm against my cheek. "How do you usually deal with this?"

Involuntarily, my eyelashes fluttered. "Tony does most of the work," I admitted coyly. The engineer had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve - sexy and exhausting tricks.

"I see," Bruce muttered, thoughtfully.

I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a look I haven't seen before. The usual mildly absent, slightly anxious face he wore was replaced by something I could only describe as hurt envy, like a kid looking at their schoolmate who had all the newest, coolest toys. I used to be on the receiving end of that look far too often and I hated it.

I hid my face against his leg, rubbing my cheek on the raspy corduroy fabric of his pants. "Got any good ideas of your own?" I wondered lowly, thinking about what in the world possessed Bruce to wear corduroy trousers on a semi-casual day, in the twenty-first century.

"Only bad ideas," He replied in a matching low tone. His soft fingertips relocated to my nape, goosebumps rising down my back.

"Humour me," I grinned against his leg.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, the sound of his thinking screaming louder than any words could have done. Knowing the scientist so closely, I found out he was full of surprises - bolder than he appeared outwardly and competitive to a boot. He thought he had a lot to prove to himself and by extension, to others. The unknown, the mystery dangling in front of my nose was exhilarating, trepidation addictive. It took me away from the chaos in my mind.

A gentle grasp on my chin had me turning to look upwards, Bruce's face flushed and focused on my own, open and trusting. He needed to see the obvious, that I trusted him to take care of me. He pulled and I followed, sitting up on my elbows, coming up to his shoulder level, our faces inches apart, enveloped in the unique, intense scent of his herbal tea. It was a tart, strong smell and it suited his quiet but passionate character.

Once, twice, I caught my eyes sliding to his plump lips. They looked far too appealing in this position. I usually strategically stayed away from positions so compromising, fearing the very thing that I'd already let happen, however this time the atmosphere was different. We stood on ambiguous grounds, waiting for Bruce to make a decision.

The man wasn't stupid, he saw the way I looked at him. The nightmares and inability to take a break from life put a significant dent in my resolve to keep a distance between us, romantically - I could have settled even for a pity kiss, a pity fuck. Anything to put my brain on pause.

His lips were softer than I had imagined. Skilled, too, he easily steered the kiss into the shallow waters of our combined longing.

With Tony, it was like an avalanche. Tony ran hot like Peterbilt engines, hard and fast, almost angry in his race for satisfaction. Tony was a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted and it became plainly obvious when we fucked.

Bruce was the opposite. He savoured the kiss, losing himself in a way that could almost be described as delicate. Bruce was humming, softly, as we tasted each other, holding the left side of my face with careful fingertips. Almost as if he was afraid to break me. The feel of his skin on mine was soothing in a way that made me sigh and relax even further.

"Wanna make you feel good." His voice had dropped, gone husky, but his breathing held even. He must know all about self-control.

"Yeah," I was ready to agree with whatever the fuck he was offering. My eyelids remained shut.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

PS. Letsby, please don't combust. The underwear is coming off in the next chapter. 😶

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #368

“whatever doesn’t kill you, is gonna leave a scar”

Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? My favorite shirt is the Day of the Dead design by Cloak, which is Markiplier's and jacksepticeye's clothing brand. Mom's friend/former co-worker also got me a Ninja Sex Party shirt because she knew I liked them. There are SO MANY YouTubers I wanna support by buying shirts. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? Milk, 110%. Have you ever left a note in a library book? No. What time of day do you prefer to wash your hair? Morning. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yes. Have you ever taken a photograph with a celebrity? If so, did it turn out the way you wanted, or do you wish you could retake it? No. If you could move out of your home country permanently, would you? If so, where would you go? If it didn't mean being so very far from my family, I would love to move to Canada. Is there a celebrity that everyone else seems to love, but you find totally overrated? Why is it that you don’t like them? I legit don't know who's considered currently popular, and I especially don't know who they are as people. If you could volunteer for any charity, which one would you choose? Do you think it’s more important to help humans, or are animal and environmental charities equally important? Something relating to animals, and I think they're both equally important. Do you prefer holidays where you relax, or actually do things? I like a mix. Something chill, but you still do some stuff as a family. Do you think that after we die our spirit is still alive? Yes. Has anybody ever told you that you could be a model? Someone has mistaken me for a model in a picture I once took. It was one of the most flattering things I've ever heard, haha. Do you use different kinds of moisturizer for different body parts? ie. hand lotion for your hands, face cream for your face. Or do you just use one moisturizer for all body parts? Yes. Have you ever felt like you were someone’s rebound? No. Has anybody ever broken up with you over something really pathetic? What was it? Have you ever been dumped in a disrespectful way? (eg. through text, through a friend..) I have 100% been dumped in a very cowardly and disrespectful way; after dating Jason for nearly four years and being very serious, he broke up with me very abruptly over Facebook Messenger. His reason was valid, but at the same time, he NEVER talked to me about it. Apparently my depression was dragging him down. If he'd fucking communicated it, I would have explored new treatment options so goddamn fast. But no, he decided to snap his fingers and disappear. That's exactly WHY it was so traumatic, I think: it was so unexpected and sudden. Did you have a lot of role models as a kid? Animal enthusiasts like Steve Irwin and Jeff Corwin for sure. Do you feel like anyone looks up to you? Why or why not? God no. I'm just... not someone to aspire to be like. What was the last thing you found offensive? I'm not sure. Who is the nicest person you know? My mom. Do you feel safe in your country? I feel safe in NC, rather. Like I don't expect an atom bomb or terrorist attack or something in this obscure area. In the U.S.A. itself, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. America is definitely not loved by every other country. Do you feel safe where you live? Not in this city, no. Have you been falsely diagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Yup. Did y'all know I apparently have ADHD? I know, shocking. Have you ever had a doctor refuse to treat you? No. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): The first Silent Hill, probably. It took a lot of reading to get it. Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightning before? No. Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Does Stitch count? Or a Pokemon. Do you like marshmallows? Yes. What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I really like the Jolly Rancher candy canes, I think they are? Have you ever fostered an animal? No. Do you still take hot showers when it’s hot out? Not as hot, but not cold except on very extreme occasions. When writing $ sign, do you draw one line through the S or two? Two. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? I'm thankful that my parents were pretty open-minded to what pets I really wanted, but one I was never allowed to have was a ferret because of how messy and smelly they are. List three people you’ve had crushes on: Jason, Sara, and Sebastian were probably my biggest crushes. Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No, but god have I felt close. List three people you had a hard time forgiving. Jason, Colleen, and my dad. Who is the most spiritual person you know? Probably my sister's mother-in-law. Would you ever start a vlog? God no, I'd bore people to tears. Are your dreams coming true yet? I mean, I guess in some ways with my mental health. In my deepest depression, what I have now was a dream, even though current me is very discontent with it. Most of my dreams, though? No. Do you struggle with depression? I've been diagnosed with severe depression since 7th grade. Are you haunted by your past? A few things won't leave me alone. What medical conditions do you have? Just a lot. There are even more that are up for debate. I've talked about my diagnosed conditions enough. Do you use a Magic Bullet? No. What does your apron look like? I don’t have one. What are your favorite spicy foods? Hot Cheetos, Takis, hot wings, jalapeno pizza... Man, I love spicy food. Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? Being a kid. Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? I had very mixed feelings. Did you feel insecure in high school? Shit, I still do. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? What the FUCK is this question? No fucking shit I would be. Someone being suicidal in no way affects who they are as a person. Who was the biggest bully in high school? I don't think there really was one. What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? If I wanted kids, a daughter. Have you ever written to an advice columnist? No. Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? Maybe? I did however have an employee at the ER the first time I went try to pry out of me that my self-mutilation was for attention, and it wasn't until I insisted about a dozen times that it wasn't that he believed me. It's odd looking back that I got REALLY attached to him during that stay, knowing now that it was absolutely horrible and extremely unhelpful for him to do that. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? I would absolutely refuse to have a male one. Do you like Lisa Frank? Yeah, like can you talk about aesthetic. What gives you nightmares? Boy, I wish I could tell you, given how much I have them. Were you ever hospitalized as a child? No. Did you get senior pictures taken? No. What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one. Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? No, thank fuck. Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? I'd rather wear black. I think red will be the bridesmaids' color. Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? I want a swimming pool so damn badly so I could exercise my legs without worrying about sweating, and I can stop and rest whenever I want, unlike going walking or something. I don't think my knees could handle a trampoline. Do you think babies are cute? Some, sure. But a lot, not really. Do you dream about the future a lot? Yeah. Do you think about your past a lot? Way too frequently. How good are you at living in the moment? I'm trying to get better at it. Have you ever questioned God’s existence? Yeah. Vanilla frosting or chocolate? Chocolate. What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? I've actually been exploring Italian pasta lately. I'm not a big fan of foreign food that I've tried, though. Have you ever moved to another state? No. Did you do anything productive today? No. .-. Can you say the alphabet backwards? No, actually. Do you like flowers? Of course; does anyone not? Have you ever thought you were gonna die? I didn't care if I did or didn't. What kind of mood are you in today? I was honestly really depressed through most of it. Just health stuff was really getting to me. I just woke up from what was honestly like a four-hour nap and I feel all right, I guess. What are you craving right now? I REALLY want Domino's jalapeno pizza. Is there anyone you would seriously punch right now if you had the chance? No. What is worse, physical or emotional pain? Definitely emotional. Have you ever walked in on somebody doing something… questionable? When Dad still lived with us, I think he might have been watching... you know... on TV when I came into my parents' room for something. Idk for sure though. I didn't ask, and I don't want to know. If you were to make videos on YouTube, what would they be of? Oh god, idk. I don't want to make any. What I'd have most fun with would be reptile education, but I 1.) have literally one snake, 2.) am not extremely educated on a good number of them and don't want to be misleading, and 3.) I would run outta content fast. So, leave it to Snake Discovery, haha. Posting pictures of yourself in a bathing suit on the internet - ok or not? Yes, it's okay????? If you're talking about me personally though, you won't see me dead in a bathing suit picture. Do you typically laugh when somebody falls down? No, I gasp and see if they're okay. What is the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? Paranormal Entity. The ending is... a lot. Your opinion of Katy Perry, please? I like a couple of her songs. If you could say anything to your Mom right now… what would it be? "Thank you for absolutely everything."

[toshis-puppycat]

Unfortunately, I Think I Love You Too Part Three

A/n: I honestly didn't think I'd write more than one part but I can't help it I guess 👉👈 I hope y'all enjoy part three!! Also Hawks isn't gonna call you by your name until later on when you tell him he can bcs he want you to want him to call you by your name instead of pet names. It'll be sweet I promise.

Summery: Hawks is in your house. Hawks is in your house. Its going to be a long day. 

—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*

Part 3

When you heard a knock at your door early in the morning you were pissed. You couldn't sleep after you got home from patrolling your area, mainly because afterwards you had to put in paperwork that you were going to be out of town for a while and were unsure when you'd get back. And someone was knocking on your door way to early for you to deal with. When you opened the door you weren't expecting to see Hawks just standing there either, yanking him in your home probably wasn't the best idea either but he was outside your home and what if someone saw him? You would have been fine dealing with him as your assigned protection detail. You were actually a little relieved despite the fact he was very irritating. Because at least it was someone who you knew and could trust to keep a secret. But Jesus fucking christ why the fuck did he come to your house. When the hell did he learn your address? You were told he'd come later or you'd at least be able to meet up later. Your sleep was important damn it! You were so pissed in fact you didn't actually notice that Hawks didn't say anything for a while, and he didn't say anything simply because you were wearing your pajamas, which didn't provide much of a cover for you. It was bad for you to be opening doors in it, but to be fair you didn't think you'd yank anyone in. Hawks, however, was thinking a thousand things at once. You were gorgeous, you looked so soft and he never saw so much skin from you and you were so close to him right now because of how you yanked him into your home. Then he looked away, the feeling of guilt hitting him, you wouldn't appreciate him gawking at you he was sure about that. You didn't register that he did anything until he looked away. When you did register it your face went red, and you quickly let go of him and moved away. Which really didn't help your case. "Cover your eyes and turn around birdbrain!" You cried out, thankfully he did it immediately and you ran to your bedroom, changing into more appropriate attire. He continued to awkwardly stand near the door.

"Sorry about that." He said, hoping you heard him. You did but you were incredibly embarrassed, no one was supposed to see you in your pajamas. 

"What are you doing here Hawks?" You asked, already feeling the headache you were sure to get with him, along with the fact you didn't sleep enough. 

"Protection detail, sweetheart. I was assigned it and they told me to go to your house." He said, you glared at him.

"Next time come a little later, I sleep in." You said, he winced you saw it from the corner of your eye. "Why'd you wince Hawks?" You asked, a feeling of dread came over you.

"I have to be with you at all times." He blurted out. You felt yourself twitch. 

"Hell no. I'm not-" you were about to argue against him but he quickly interrupted.

"I told them this wasn't going to work out happily. You're independent, don't like relying in others but-"

"You're damn right. Others disappoint, at least I know my own limits and reasons." You said interrupting him the same way he did to you. You sighed.

"It's only for the duration of this case." He said, he was still embarrassed and a little uncomfortable. "Then I'll be out of your hair." 

"I'm going back to bed." You said, turning away and walking back to your room. Don't burn anything down and if you order fucking take-out. I'm going to take you out. Painfully." 

"Aw sweetheart, you wanna take me out? You didn't have to ask like that." He joked.

"Hawks I swear to fucking god, I will end your life." You said, closing the door. You were done being up, you quickly crawled into bed and forced yourself to relax. You passed out in no time.

—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*

You always had nightmares. Your memories, the traumatic moments as you grew up embedded in your mind where you'd smother it during your time awake but suffered when you fell asleep. It was always terrifying to be asleep. You always remembered too much. Too many people were lost when you were under the care of him. You even remembered when he almost- no you weren't going to remember that. You woke up again about 3 hours later, screaming like you were about to be killed. If you were alone it would have been fine, you'd made sure that your home was soundproof but Hawks was there. And he could hear you very well, barging into your bedroom to see what scared you so much to scream the way you did. Seeing nothing but you, shuttering and hyperventilating. He tried to calm you down like he did that day but you were ahead of him.

"Don't!" You cried out, not even focusing on him, waving your hand wildly in front of you. "Don't fucking come near me!" He halted his movements, shocked. 

"Sweetheart-" He began but you cut him off.

"Hawks get out." You said, finally feeling your heartbeat slow to a bearable pace. You had your hand covering your face, hiding behind it. You heard him stop walking towards you before finally turning away and closing the door as he left. Then you cried. You almost got to that point. Sleep was that unfortunate necessity. 

When you walked out about an hour later, dressed in something that was definitely not lounge worthy. Hawks was there, sitting on your couch giving you a look that screamed 'tell me whats going on, please' but wilted slightly when you gave him a glare. It was nowhere near the one you'd given him before during the meeting. You were more subdued after dreams like that no matter how long it took you to get ready. 

"We're not going to talk about that." You said suddenly. It made him jump a little how cold your voice sounded. He was about to object before you turned to face him. The look you were giving, made any thought of objecting halt right there. "We're not talking about this Hawks. I'm not talking about it. So you better leave it alone if you know what's good for you." You said, it came out choked though and it was the second time he'd ever heard you sound like this. 

"Okay." Was all he responded with, because what else could he say? He didn't want to push you to talk about it, but it was obvious it was affecting you. You needed help and hopefully eventually you'd let him into some small part of yourself that you kept hidden. "If… if you ever need it. I'm here for you." He said, walking towards you slowly. You jerked away at the last moment, panic in your eyes. He sighs. "I just thought you should know it, sweetheart. I'm here for you." And with that he turns around to go back to the living room. He was finding out more and more about you, but he wasn't quite sure he could be happy about it anymore. 

—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*—*

Tag list: @onyxiana-is-obsessed, @neon-tries-writing, @shiggi-trash, @jqnposts, @notmykirk, @crackhead1-800, @sinclairsamess, @takmikig, @ewok-things, @lookslikeleese, @rat-suki, @bakatenshii, @enjifuckersupreme

[reasonsilovemywife]

Buckle up, I've got something to say

Most of you will ignore this post. I hope that you take time to read it, especially my white friends and colleagues...

I've hesitated to really speak my mind on the murder of Armaud Arbery, the murder of George Floyd, and the aftermath of these murders. I opted to not watch the videos of their murders, of their last breaths. I opted not to watch because it will only piss me off even more. I know the outcome without watching. I've seen it over and over again. I don't need to see it over and over again, again. I've hesitated because I feel helpless. I've spoken against racism almost my whole life, at least since high school. And what has that changed? Have I really made things better? Have I done all I can to end racism? I've felt outnumbered, I've felt intimidated, I remember feeling what my heart tells me is right being contrary to what others tell me is right.

Maybe I could've communicated better, but lacked the ability or lacked the information that would be more persuasive. Maybe I could have organized better, but lacked the commitment or the access or knowledge. Or maybe they just lacked the empathy for their fellow man. I still, vividly, remember the first time I saw racism play out in front of my very eyes. Innocence lost. It's still painful to this day. I've said in the past, as long as racist parents raise racist children, racism will never go away. But even worse, racism isn't just anecdotal, it isn't just individual-based. It is systemic. It has been woven into our institutions and structures over such a long period of time that it is subtle to someone who is not directly affected by it.

I feel helpless because of "all the progress that's been made", at times it feels like no progress has been made. In the 50s and 60s, it was Emmett Till, four little girls (Addie May Collins, Carol Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley, and Carole Rosamond Robertson), Willie Edwards, Jr., Cpl. Roman Ducksworth, Jr., Jimmie Lee Jackson and many others. In this past decade, it's been Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, the Charleston Nine (Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Myra Thompson), Philando Castille, Armaud Arbery, George Floyd, and once again, many others. So when we continually see these killings play out, the progress that has been made can feel hollow and inadequate.

Just like my words on a Facebook and Tumblr post can feel. And that's mostly all I have to offer, words. I can post and opine on Facebook / Tumblr all day, but is that really going to change anything? That's why I feel helpless. During my career at UPS I was hopeful to get involved in the community, to help underprivileged children, to help the homeless, and to get involved with anti-racist organizations in order to contribute to a better, more equitable and more harmonious community. But the truth is, I just worked. I just worked 70+ hours per week for a corporation that pays me for 50 hours per week, but expects me to do more and work longer if needed. But I digress. Yet, this leads to a lack of time and a lack of energy, and that's why I feel helpless.

I feel helpless because too many white people are dismissive on the issues of race. It doesn't negatively affect white people, so there's no need to get involved, right? This is one of the most obvious proofs of white privelege. And that's precisely the reason you should fight for social justice for minorities. If you don't want to be considered a racist, then stop looking the other way, stop benefiting from white privilege then deny that white privilege exists, stop acting as if "reverse racism" is equal to or worse than racism against minorities. If you don't want to be considered a racist, then care, act and live as if you're not a racist.

If you're response to "Black Lives Matter" is "All Lives Matter" instead of "Yes, They Do", then you are part of the problem and are clearly missing the point. Stop dismissing racism as a problem Black people (and other minorities) have to deal with. It's our responsibility as White people to end racism, not theirs. They're the victims of racism in America, not the perpetrators. So fix your damn self. Stop being tolerant. Stop being complacent. Stop being dismissive. Stop acting as if it's not your problem, because it is 100% your problem. My problem. Our problem. The problem is you've benefited from it, I've benefited from it. We've benefited from white supremacy our entire lives, and usually don't even recognize it. How could we, it's normal to us - although it should be abnormal. If you don't believe racism in America is systemic and intentional, study up on redlining, study up on the inception of policing in the South, study up on the educational, financial, and even medical care disparities during segregation and how it still affects us today.

Also, stop with all the generalizations. That goes for everyone. Stop painting everything and everyone with such a broad brush just because you're too lazy or too simple to actually learn and discern. Humanity is not a monolith. People groups are not a monolith. All Black people are not the same, all white people are not the same, all law enforcement are not the same, all protesters are not the same, etc., etc. There are good and bad in all things, including humanity. I know for a fact that there are good, moral, heroic police officers out there, because I have family and friends who are those good police officers. I also know for a fact that there are crooked, corrupt, criminal police officers out there. Those are the ones that I am against, those are the ones we all should be against, especially the good cops out there. You can be fully supportive of LE and also be fully supportive of the arrest and conviction of dirty cops. It's not mutually exclusive. Also, don't confuse the peaceful protesters with the looters, they are not the same people. People marching, holding up signs are not the same people as the ones damaging property.

Speaking of protesting, if you've never protested, please stop telling other people how to protest. How would you know the right way to protest, you've never needed to. Although I wasn't a huge fan of Kaepernick, his peaceful protest was just, but it made "us" uncomfortable so "we" hated him for it. He literally stated that he was protesting police brutality and racial injustice and literally stated that he was not protesting the military, not protesting the flag, but you hated him for it and, with the assistance of this ignorant ass president of ours, Kaep's mission was tainted, blurred, misconstrued.

Now, a lot of us our finally opening our eyes that he was right all along.

Speaking of Trump, can we get him off Twitter, at least until we can get him out of the White House. This dude has quoted white supremacists multiple times, then when questioned about it, acts as if he had no idea. Multiple times. He takes no responsibility for his actions. It would take less than two minutes for him to Google before posting. He's blatantly ignorant at the least. And don't come at me about the economy, the economy has been steadily improving since 2010 but y'all didn't want to acknowledge that until Orangina got in office. But let me get off politics because I'm not supporting Biden's stupid ass either. It would be nice if we had a worthy candidate, a dream deferred.

Although I feel helpless at times, I won't give up. I still have hope for the future. But the future starts now, it starts with us. Have empathy, be sincere, treat people as you would have them treat you. That's a good starting point, but remember, that's just the starting point.

#WeveGotWorkToDo

#BlackLivesMatter

[omgviolette12]

After Hours - Chapter 13

Previous Chapter

Summary: After sex, comes the bliss... right?

Chapters: 13/?

Words: 2800+

Warnings: None

Tags:  @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666  @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

A/N:  Sorry for the delay, still in the midst of final projects. Motivation to complete work/writing has been a bit slow, and I’ve been trying to think up new plot points. I’ve been stuck, lol. Anyway, enjoy!

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

Evelyn should’ve expected this, but she had no idea that she would be this sore.

 After the shower, they both became somewhat insatiable. It was as though Loki couldn’t get enough of her, and she of him. The taboo of their relationship spurred on their lust, the need to be connected to each other in every way possible great. So like he had promised, he fucked her into the late hours of the night.

  While she was grateful that her first time was far from terrible...she made a mental note to learn her limits. She thought the idea of getting fucked silly by the man she pined for would be a dream come true - but the effects on her body afterwards was kind of a bitch.

 Evelyn hopped and limped all the way to Loki’s car when they left his house early in the morning, wincing with every step. She attributed the amount of pain she was in due to the fact that she was simply not used to sex, and her professor’s size was considerable. 

 Perhaps the more they did it, the less pain there would be overtime?

Just the thought of a ‘next time’ in Loki’s bed was enough to set off another wave of butterflies inside her stomach. Whatever pain she was in right now, it was worth it.

 Loki, however, had long noticed Evelyn’s plight - in fact, he even had the gall to tease her about it, offering to carry her up the steps to her door like a princess once they reached her apartment.

 He sounded pretty serious about it too, so Evelyn couldn't help but blush even though she knew he was just messing around. It was going to be a challenge getting used to his playful side…

 Evelyn promised him that she'd stop by his office later on in the day, to resume her duties as his TA. Since she wouldn’t be able to attend the Monday lecture to help out this time around for obvious reasons, the least she could do was grade some exams. 

 She dreaded grading, especially since it was math( another reason why she skipped meetings in the beginning…) but now that the dynamic between her and Loki has changed considerably, she was actually looking forward to being productive in his presence.

  They parted with a kiss, and Evelyn made her way to her apartment door slowly. Now, she just had to try to walk inside like there wasn't a stick up her ass.

To Evelyn’s surprise and dismay, Candice was waiting for her on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in hand as she watched her hop through the front door.

 Evelyn was secretly banking on the fact that she had left for work already, since Candice mentioned offhandedly that she took up more shifts at her hospital.

  But alas, the shit-eating grin that was plastered on Candice’s face meant that she must’ve called in sick to witness Evelyn’s limp of shame, first thing.

 “Well! I’ll be damned,”

 Evelyn stubbornly ignored her in embarrassment as she limped past the couch to head to her room, but Candice set down her mug to follow her, giggling like a fool, “He busted that cherry so hard he got you hoppin’ like a bunny! Sheesh...”

 "Not now, Candice…" Her face felt hot, desperately wishing her sister had some sort of filter.

 "Did y'all use a rubber? Did he hurt you? Because if he hurt you Eve -"

 Candice was going to badger her until all was answered, so Evelyn relented with a grimace, hoping she would leave her alone after she was satisfied,

 “ No! He didn’t hurt me...and yes, we used protection. Each time.”

 “Each ti- each time?! How many times did y’all fu- ”

 Evelyn cut her off before she could finish, “I’ll answer all the juicy deets later, okay!? I didn’t have time to shower before we left, and I wanna do that now. Please?”

 Candice realized she was being a bit overbearing, backing off a bit. Evelyn was extremely fun to tease and make fun off, but she knew her sister had limits,

  “Sorry, sorry. My baby sister never seemed the type to be interested in sex or anything before...so to do it with a professor of all people for your first time! And a kinky one! Don’t blame me for being interested and concerned...”

 Evelyn ignored the kinky comment, limping inside her room as she replied, “I mean, is the professor thing really that big a deal? I’m technically just a former student of his...”

 “Not really, you already know how my hoe phase was. Fucked a few teachers in my college days. But you have to be careful with these older men Eve, since you’re new to this sort of thing. Don't get attached. Especially if his dick game’s good, he will manipulate the hell outta you,”

 "...Speaking from experience?"

 "Yep. Found out this guy was a whole married man and I still went back to fuck. Good dick messes with your morals sis,"

 Evelyn had a hard time taking her words seriously since Candice lacked morals in the first place, but pretended to agree so she could leave her be,

"I'll make sure to be careful, okay? Can I shower now?"

 "Yeah yeah, we'll talk more later. Remember what I said, hmm?"

And with that, Candice left her room with a skip to her step.

 Evelyn didn’t bother processing her sister’s warning, going straight to the shower to relieve her sore muscles.

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

 By the time Evelyn made her way unto the campus, the pain had lessened considerably. She still had to walk a bit carefully, but she didn’t feel as raw as before. While she showered, she also noticed bruises alongside her hip and waist - she even had to use more than a bit of makeup to cover the new ones Loki had ‘affectionately’ placed in plain sight on her neck.

 She was especially hard to bruise, so she was baffled at the amount she currently had.

 Evelyn thought that she should at least feel miffed about it, but somehow the thought of being marked as his, in any way, sent a thrill through her being. Even when he was rough at some points...

  I had sex just once and I’m already a deviant…hehe.

 Evelyn was quite busy daydreaming about the naughty events from last night, that she didn’t see the tall figure standing in her way as she headed towards Loki’s office.

 ‘Oof!’

 As expected, she collided straight into the person’s side, yelping in the process.

 “Oh shit - I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…”

 She looked up apologetically at the woman in front of her - lithe and pale, with narrowed blue eyes that accentuated her intimidating presence. 

 Perhaps because she also had dark hair and sharp facial features, she saw a vague resemblance to Loki.

 “Obviously, you weren’t,” the woman replied curtly, before giving a tight smile,

“But, I’ll forgive you if you were to lend some assistance.”

 Her tone carried a sort of cold arrogance, as Evelyn shrunk underneath her stare. She even had Loki’s accent…

 “Uh...of course! How can I help…?” Although she was in a bit of a rush to get to where she needed to be, she did not want the woman in front of her to be any more pissed off than she already seemed to look.

 She showed Evelyn a map of the campus that was in her hands, pointing at the building she wanted to head to, “This map is much too complicated for me, and I’m trying to look for this building. I need to find someone, and this is where his office is apparently.”

 “Oh, I’m actually heading there!” Evelyn was glad that the woman pointed towards the science department - the campus was fairly large, and she barely knew half of the map. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’re you trying to find? I can show you to them directly…”

 She didn’t have to go the extra mile, merely walk with her to the building. But Evelyn had always been a people pleaser.

 “Ah, I’m looking for my brother. Are you a student of his, perhaps? I do know that he teaches here…Loki Odinson. Or Laufeyson, whatever he wants to go by nowadays.”

 “Brother? You’re Loki’s sister?” Evelyn asked in a surprised tone, voice elevated. He did mention he two had siblings during their date, but he never went into detail about anything.

 The woman looked at her oddly, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “Well, you certainly sound quite familiar with him.”

 Evelyn realized her mistake, hastily rushing to fix it. Loki was fine with Candice knowing everything, but she still wasn’t sure about his side of the family. 

 “Oh, about that...I usually just call all the professors by their names, haha…”

 “My brother really dislikes being referred to in an informal manner, so I find the idea of him allowing that unlikely.”

 “.....”

 Evelyn was momentarily speechless, akin to a deer in headlights. 

 “Uhm, you see, I -“

 “No need to explain,” the woman stepped closer, a bit too close for comfort as she scrutinized Evelyn’s face, “You’re his exact type, you know. Short, timid, pretty. He’s probably quite taken with you...” 

 As she looked her up and down, a spark of realization lit her eyes..

 “Miss...you’re stepping out of line here.”

She was assuming way too much, for just a minor slip up. And who spoke like this to someone they just met? 

 “Oh, It's just harmless teasing,” she stepped back, her smile starting to look a lot more natural. 

 She pulled out her hand for a handshake, “ Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hela. Hela Odinson. And you?”

 Evelyn gave a momentary look of reluctance before accepting the handshake, “Uhm, Evelyn Monroe. Nice to meet you, I guess?”

 Hela’s smile became broader, “Let’s walk and talk, hmm?”

 Evelyn was very uncomfortable, but started to walk regardless.

 As they made their way towards Loki’s office, Hela, surprisingly, insisted on making small talk. Evelyn pegged her for the cold and silent type like her brother, but she was entirely the opposite. She asked general questions about what Evelyn did, her age, etc. But unfortunately, she also kept asking suggestive questions, hoping for another slip up on her end.

 “I haven’t spoken to my brother in a while, so I’m clueless as to how he’s doing. Does he treat you well, Evelyn?”

 Hela began adopting a familiar and warmer tone, softening Evelyn’s first impression. It succeeded in lulling her into a sense of minor comfort, “Oh, he treats me very well. I mean, he’s pretty nice to all of his students, most times...” 

 “Hm, that’s surprising. His personality is treacherous, so I expected the opposite.”

 Evelyn looked at her quizzically. For his sister, she sure spoke like she disliked him to a large degree.

 “Since I like you, I’ll give you a bit of advice,”

Hela turned to look at her then, meeting her eyes,

“Don’t get too attached to a man like Loki, especially if he thinks you’re a temporary plaything. He gets... annoyed, quite easily. You weren't the only one he happened to fancy so much in the past...so I'd know.”

….?!??

“Excuse me, but what -“ Evelyn started, but then the dark, pissed off voice of her professor sounded from behind them.

 “Hela,”

 His face was pulled into a tight scowl, trained directly at his sister, “ What nonsense are you spewing?”

 Loki appeared behind them suddenly out of thin air, startling the wits out of Evelyn. Before she could ponder the possibility that he had magical powers, she realized they just passed the lecture hall where his class was, on the way to his office.

 “I took time out of my busy schedule to see you, dear brother...one would think you’d sound a bit more affectionate. Hasn't it been a year since we last spoke?”

 “Slither back to whatever hell you came from, woman.”

 “Well, I suppose that’s close enough.”

 Evelyn looked back and forth between the two, the tension thick and uncomfortable. They were in the middle of the hallway and students still wandered about, so she decided to make an exit. She wanted no part in whatever mystery family drama that was unfolding...and she needed time to ponder over Hela’s words.

  I’ll ask just him about this later...

 “So...um. I’m gonna go ahead to the office, okay? Grade those papers...yippee…”

 She added awkwardly, slowly backing away.

 Loki looked at her then. She hoped his face would soften a bit, but it didn’t. 

“I’ll be there shortly. This won’t take long.”

His answers were short and clipped, so she knew he was pissed. 

She didn’t do anything wrong to her knowledge, so she blamed his mood all on his sister. 

 Before Evelyn left, Hela addressed her one last time.

“It was lovely meeting you, sweetheart. I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”

 “Oh. Uhm, yeah. Nice meeting you too…”

Evelyn didn’t waste anymore time, leaving the pair once she saw Loki’s worsening expression.

 ---------------------

Hela’s words from before repeated inside her head, filling her with a sense of paranoia. But, she had no reason to be paranoid, right? Loki said they were exclusive, after all. He said he wanted her to be his woman. No, she was his woman. And he made sure of that last night.

 Evelyn stubbornly pushed her anxieties aside into the far crevice of her mind, reassuring herself with his words. Although Hela was his sister, she and Loki clearly weren’t on good terms. She could’ve said that in order to sabotage their suspected relationship.

  God, this is giving me a damn headache...

 She settled in Loki's office, taking the stack of exams from his desk and got comfortable on the couch. She hoped grading and correcting complicated equations would fry her brain enough to stop the fretting, as she waited for him to come.

 Loki appeared after about fifteen minutes, and Evelyn bolted upright once she heard him enter.

 “Oh, Loki! I went ahead and started…”

She paused mid sentence when she saw his expression.

“...Grading…”

 Why did it feel like she was in some sort of trouble? The heck?

His face didn’t change much from when he spoke to Hela, so it made her nervous.

 Evelyn just opted to stay quiet for now. She’d ask about Hela later once he looked a little less pissed off. She was his girlfriend now, but she still felt his authoritative presence especially when they were on campus.

 Well, she was going to stay quiet, until his deep voice resounded inside the room.

 “I'm curious about something, Evelyn.”

  Uh oh. Why's he using that voice?

 "How did that...woman, know that we were involved with each other?"

 "Uh...woman? I mean, I thought she said she was your sister…?"

 "That isn't the answer to my question."

 Inwardly, Evelyn felt whiplashed. Everything was so dandy this morning and last night...so how did things take such a strange turn so quickly?

 "Look, when she told me she was your sister, I said your first name on impulse. That's literally it! She assumed stuff based on that one thing…"

 Evelyn put the papers on her lap to the side, feeling frustrated, "And…it really isn't that big a deal, right? You said that people outside the school could know. You were fine with Candice knowing, so why not -"

 He cut her off before she could finish,

"Darling, let me say this in a way that you can comprehend," 

  In...in a way that I can comprehendddd? Did he just call me stupid eloquently?

 Evelyn was stunned into silence as Loki spoke, and he moved to stand above her as she sat rigidly on the couch. "Such a simple mistake, regardless of who it was, is monumental. Your words weren't what gave you away, Evelyn. But your body language. You're entirely too expressive for your own good,"

 He sighed a disappointed sigh, moving away to pinch the bridge of his nose, "At any rate, I can live with Hela knowing...but for future reference, avoid her. At all costs."

 Loki looked at her then, eyes stern, "Do you understand what I'm saying? Or should I elaborate further?"

 Evelyn was honestly a bit speechless. She felt extremely put off and mildly hurt… that he spoke to her like she was a child, rather than his lover.

She really hated herself right now. Was she actually about to cry? He would seriously think she was childish, if this was how she was going to react.

 Tears wouldn’t do her any favors, especially once he was in this kind of mood anyway.

Why am I so fucking sensitive?!

She sighed shakily, swallowing the knot in her throat as she replied, "Yeah...I got it."

 "Good, then." 

 He moved casually to sit behind his desk, attempting to soften his tone with his next words, "You can work for maybe half an hour, then I'd like to treat you to dinner. Seeing that woman left an unpleasant taste… but spending more time with you should remedy that."

 She didn't reply, and only stared at the floor.

 "... Evelyn?"

 When she glanced up, he saw that her large, hazel eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

”I’m... I’m going to use the restroom, okay? I’ll be back,”

 She got up quickly. And before he could properly react, she promptly went to exit the room.

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

A/N:  Your thoughts bring me joy, I greatly appreciate each and every one! Please let me know what you thought :)

[dank-hp--memes]

Soul Mates: chapters 2

Hello y'all, I am extremely excited to be posting the second chapter of my Valana AU short story. I really love hearing all of your ideas and feedback, so please do not hold back on your comments. I absolutely love hearing your feedback. I need to thank all of my readers once more for being so wonderful to me. I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading!

Tags: @shit-in-silk-stocking @johnlockismyreligion

(P.S. if you want to be added to my tag list, leave a comment letting me know)

---

Time Period: late 1960's 

Valery is in his mid-thirties 

Ulana is in her late twenties

-

A few weeks passed, and Valery could not help but smile when he awoke in the morning to the shower running in the bathroom down the hall. Slowly, he forced himself to get out of bed and wander down the hall. As he entered the bathroom, he saw Ulana standing in front of the mirror in her underwear. Her hands were on her stomach as she looked over her figure. Valery smiled and gently wrapped his arms around her, wearing only his pyjama pants.

"You look wonderful…" he said softly as he ran his hand over her belly. 

Ulana sighed and smiled before turning and kissing him.

"I knew you'd come and join me" she teased as Valery's hands rested on her hips.

"You did?" Valery asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"You always wake up at some point during my shower… and I had a feeling you would join me today" Ulana said, chuckling softly as she wrapped her arms around him.

They stand in silence, rocking from side to side in a sweet embrace.

"Well, why don't I join you in the shower" Valery whispered as he gazes into her eyes.

Ulana grinned in reply before proceeding to remove her underwear and stepping into the steamy shower. Valery chuckled softly as he watched her. He then removed his pyjamas before following her into the shower. 

The water was hot, and it made their skin a bit flushed, but it felt very nice on their bodies as they proceeded to shower. They spent a rather long time in the shower this morning, for Valery had brought it upon himself to make love to her. Of course, Ulana could not object. She craved the sensation of his hands on her body, and the soft kisses he planted over every inch of her. He made her absolutely crazy, to the point where she could hardly control herself. As they finished, Valery helped her to dry off, holding her in his arms. 

"We should just take the day off… we could go out, or stay here and not get dressed" Valery said softly.

"Valera…" Ulana mumbled, leaning back against him with her eyes closed, unable to resist him.

Valery smiled as he rested his hands on her lower belly. His chin rested on her shoulder and he looked at her in the mirror. He caressed her belly with his thumbs, grinning at her in the mirror.

"Come on… I know you want to" Valery said, swaying with her from side to side. 

"Fine, but I have to do some work later" Ulana mumbled. 

Valery smiled, celebrating by gently nipping her ear.

They lounged around for a few hours, in only their bathrobes. Valery cooked some breakfast for them. Ulana sat on the sofa with her feet propped up. Valery ate quickly before bringing Ulana her breakfast. He sat at her feet while she ate, gently massaging her petite feet and slender ankles. 

"How did I get so lucky?" Ulana said as she looked up at him from across the sofa.

"I ask myself the same question every second of every day" Valery chuckled as he moves to sit beside her.

Ulana blushes and holds eye contact with him. They sit in silence for a few moments as Ulana finishes up her breakfast and places her plate on the coffee table. Valery cannot help but smile as he watches her readjust, her hand naturally resting on her growing belly. There is the softest curve to her stomach and it protrudes slightly from almost all of her button-downs. Valery smiles as he looks at her, unable to keep from smiling. The very sight of her makes his heart leap with joy. They spend a few hours cuddling on the sofa as the sun rises in the sky. Valery sits across the sofa, leaning against the armrest. Ulana sat between his legs, leaning back against him. Valery's hands wandered over Ulana's body as she read through some work documents. He was very gentle as he massaged her back and caressed her belly, knowing that the growth of their child often left Ulana feeling physically uncomfortable. When he finished with her back, Valery moved on to massaging the soft tissue of her tender breasts. Ulana moaned softly as Valery put gentle pressure on her breasts. She leaned back against him and sighed. Valery always did his best to fix anything that ailed her.

When she finished her work, Ulana slowly rose from the couch, fairly content. She stretched and moaned softly before wandering into their bedroom to get dressed.

After a few moments, both of them were fully dressed and going out. It was extremely rare for them to go out together. They walked the streets, hand in hand, and in totally trivial conversation. They walked a few blocks to a small bakery. The weather was absolutely beautiful, which Ulana remarked. In the back of her mind, Ulana hoped that their baby would come on a nice day such as this one. 

After buying a few pastries, they walk around Moscow a little before heading back to their apartment building. 

The entire time, Valery could hardly keep his eyes off of Ulana, having almost walked into a lamppost. His mind was filled with thoughts about her and the family they were building. He could not stop thinking about how much he loved Ulana. Valery knew, without a doubt, that he would die for her. 

As for Ulana, she could not shake a few baby names that lingered in her head, her mind never leaving her baby and her lover. Her heart ached with love for Valery, every second of every day.

As they arrived home, Ulana sat down and opened a particular worn notebook that Valery had seen her writing in a few times. He smiled as he recognized the notebook. It was one of her journals. She would write down her thoughts in notebooks when she felt as though her head was particularly full. 

The rest of their day was fairly relaxed, they lounged around, cuddling while Ulana worked on some documents for work, and Valery graded some papers. Of course, Ulana fell asleep in Valery's lap, her work resting on her stomach as she snored softly. As per usual, Valery carried Ulana to their room and put her to bed, not only kissing her lips but kissing her belly as well. 

"Sweet dreams my princesses" Valery whispers as he climbs into bed beside her. He sees Ulana's lips curl into a smile as she snuggled up to him, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arm over his chest as he wrapped his arm around her. Valery laid there quietly, staring at the ceiling, imagining what their child would be like. The thought of a beautiful little girl with brilliant blue eyes and dark, brown/ginger hair made his heart melt. No matter what, Valery knew he would never love anything or anyone more than Ulana and the life she was growing in her womb. Eventually, Valery fell asleep, Ulana and their baby never leaving his thoughts.

[divineangelix]

Hiraeth pt.1

Summary: (set in season five) As the daring group left to steer a herd of walkers away from their safe haven, Alexandria, Daryl and Celia become separated. Daryl was far beyond the safety of the walls and Celia was now trapped inside the walls homesick for her love to return to her.

Hiraeth: A concept of longing for home. To some, it implies the meaning of missing a time, an era, or a person

Warnings: fluff, angst, violence

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

Word Count: 3k+

A triangle of golden light began to seep its way through the shades of the curtainless window. The early rays of the sun coating her exposed skin in sweet honey making her already tanned skin a more even complexion. 

As the warmness and illuminating glow reached her eyes they fluttered open showing the vibrance of her light green orbs. With a groggy sigh she brought her palms to her eyes and began to wipe the shield of tiredness away. After she contracted her hands from her face she glanced next to her only to see that the man who was once sleeping beside her had vanished.

Seeing as the sun was still rising Celia knew exactly where her beloved archer had run off to. Throwing the sheets roughly off her person she dragged her feet off the bed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn. As she prepared to leave the house Daryl Dixon was outside in the morning light crouched next to his new bike tampering with greasy parts. A cigarette was evident as he completed his tasks as he held it propped between his lips.

He sucked the smoke deep into his lungs, letting the warm contents of nicotine fill him during the chilly early air. When he woke just minutes ago he felt warmness that couldn’t ever be mistaken for anything else — her. But, now that he has left the house’s aroma he’s left his shinning light behind. As he took another drag he thought about her again. The way she smiles, they way she made him feel safe, made him feel like him; the real him. It wasn’t too long ago that his brother would have bashed himself upside the head for him thinking these romantic thoughts.

His brother never was accepting towards women. He had a strong belief that every woman had a mission double cross him, that they would leave him high and dry, but Celia wasn’t them. She’s not the women that Merle used to surround himself with day in and day out. In some remarkable yet twisted way he could see Merle accepting her as a woman fit to care for his little brother during his absence.

~~~

“That woman, the one that almost broke my damn nose,” Merle grumbled as he stalked towards his little brother, his looming figure sprawling over his shorter one, “She trusts you, all these people do. You used to call people like that sheep,” Daryl could sense the distaste in his brothers tone, “What happened to you?”

Daryl never moved from his spot, planting himself firmly to face his brother, “What happened between you, Glenn, and Maggie?”

“I’ve done worse,” The venom on his tongue made the hunter feel like he was a boy again; taking the blame and the whip for his older brothers mistakes, “Your people look at me like I'm the devil. Now y'all wanna to do the same damn thing I did — snatch someone up and deliver ‘em to the Governor, just like me.”

Daryl’s voice, though quiet, held meaning, “Can't do things without people anymore, man.”

Merle seemed to reject his statement as a look of amusement itched across his face, “That woman’s got ya all kinds a’ messed up, don’t she?”

~~~

In her Daryl found a will to keep going, a strength. He had made an unexpected discovery when he came across her at the quarry. At times he wished he could have comprehended the amount of significance she woman would hold to him when he first laid his eyes upon her as the quarry. Feeling this way about someone was new, his relationship with her was something new. And even though he felt uncomfortable at times he relished the experience and even welcomed it.

His brother always told him that a house with a picket fence was nothing but a dream for a Dixon. But what Merle never realized was that he didn’t need a house or even a picket fence for that matter, Daryl just wanted her and that was enough for him to die happy. As he removed the cigarette from his mouth he blew the smoke into the air, watching as it swiveled and morphed into nothingness. Trapped in thought he continued to stare, not breaking his gaze at his worn down boots.

With a huff he hoisted himself up grabbing a metal zip tie and crouching down to began preparing his newly built motorcycle for the days activities. Only minutes had passed since he brought his attention back to the bike until he was interrupted by the door of the house opening. Familiar sounding boots made their way down the creaky wooden steps and in knowing exactly who it was Daryl opened his mouth to speak.

“So is he okay with it?”

“It was pretty much his idea. Morgan gets it.” Rick responded, his southern drawl mixing with the grogginess of the morning’s humid coating of dew.

Daryl quickly readjusted the zip tie, tightening it to the cold metal of the bike, “It’s got a bed and a bath but it’s still a cage, you know.” He said feeling pity for the man who saved his life.

“He gets it,” Rick reassured, holding his hand above his eyes to block the sun from his view, “He told me what happened with the trucks out there.”

Daryl stood to his feet with a grunt as his muscles adjusted themselves back into place, “He tell you ‘bout those people out there. The ones with the Ws?” He questioned with a slight grumble as he brushed the motor grease off his hands and onto his already dirtied jeans.

“Like the walker we saw, yeah. I’m gonna tell Deanna that we need more watch points and I’m also gonna tell her that we don’t need to go out lookin’ for new people anymore.”

The last words coming out of Rick mouth made Daryl study him more closely, searching for any signs of regret. But he found none and only gave his friend a slight glare, waiting for him to continue.

“You feel different about it?” Rick asked, sending a look not only to Daryl but over his head to the person who was opening the front door of the house they shared.

Daryl cleared his throat before he spoke,“Yeah, I do.”

Rick squinted his eyes at him, the sunlight momentarily blinding him as he carried out the conversation, “People out there, they gotta take care of themselves. Plus, we’ve both got things here that need to be taken care of. Things that we can’t risk loosening.”

Daryl knew exactly who his friend was referring to and had no objections towards his final statement. If he had to choose to save a stranger over Celia he would surly pick his girl. There was no question in his mind, it was her or nothing.

“Well, good morning to you.” Rick greeted, a genuine smile reached the corners of his mouth as a spark of joy flashed deep in the blue of his eyes.

Celia smiled as she held Judith to her hip with care, “Good morning to you too!”

Celia walked down the porch steps, barley making a sound as she kept her steps light. As the woman walked onto the pavement and into the sunlight the brown hair on top of her head absorbed the warm rays as it was pulled back into a messy bun. The two men watched with a steady gaze; Rick keeping his eyes glued on the baby in her arms and Daryl watching the caretaker with a look of pure admiration.

~~~

Celia knew the moment she saw him at the quarry that he’s been through a lot throughout his life, anyone could see that. Even though she was always warned to stay away from this certain intimidating individual she just couldn’t find it in her power to do so. But after she saw him hold Carol back when she tried to run to her dead but still walking daughter she felt something spark in her. She could see he was a decent person and if she could guess, knowing that simple fact made her drawn to him even more. When they were in the line of fire she always found herself feeling safe by his side, finding herself by him whenever they were one the run.

The mess at the CDC crossed her mind in a constant replay as she walked the distance from the farmhouse to the isolated camp that the man had set up only a week ago. He took her arm, dragging her out of the building and into the safety of his truck, the two of them watching in terror as the building exploded in a fiery wave with his arm still holding her tightly to his chest.

When she first appeared in front of him with figity hands she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from him, but she knew he was in pain from not only an arrow wound but also knowing that the wound from that arrow would forever mark him for nothing. There was no little girl to show for his effort and she felt the need to check on him.

Before Daryl had the chance to acknowledge her presence Celia spoke, “How’re you holding up?”

At first the unexpected woman had startled him, as he sat against the log of his camp sharpening his knife. His blue eyes darted to her green ones, giving her a smug and judgemental gaze. Before he could say anything snappy to the woman she made her way to him and sat down with a kind smile. He found himself fall motionless, afraid that if he moved a little too much that his shoulder would brush against hers. No words formed in his mouth, they all fell away the instant she showed her face.

She just sat there without saying a word enjoying the new scenery clueless of the masked fear that had befallen upon him with her sitting next to him.

“What do you think yer doin’ ‘er?” He tried, amazing himself that he could speak.

His voice was meant to sound angry, but it came out more gentle than he had expected. She shrugged her shoulders, folding her knees to her chest as she rested her chin ontop of them to look out across the field, “As I said before — I’m checking to see if you’re okay.”

He was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why the hell wouldn’t I be alright?”

This time it was Celia’s turn to meet his darkening blues with confusion. One glance was all it took for her to feel weak, to feel that pull to fight back. Her mind began to cloud as her heart thumped against her ribcage.

“If you’re saying that you’re alright, it’s bullshit.” She whispered, ignoring her anxieties as she heared her voice drifting away into the passing breeze.

His eyes didn’t narrow, they didn’t judge, they didn’t shoot daggers, they remained calm while meeting hers. Under his intense gaze it felt as if his piercing blues were interrogating her seemingly innocent orbs. His eyes trailed away from her eyes to the features of her face, trailing them with his eyes. A few moments passed before he looked away from the flustered woman and tuned his concentration back to his blade, sliding the sharpener down the already whetted steel.

“Guess yer right, I am spittin’ bullshit.”

~~

“Was she already awake?” Rick asked walking up to his daughter to place a loving kiss on the hair that was fluffed and frizzy on top of her head.

Celia shook her head as she stared down at the soft blonde curls that bounced around the small child’s head, “I woke up and heard her crying. Didn’t want this little angel waking anyone up.”

Rick nodded his head, “You think you could take care of her for a few more minutes? I’m about to talk to Morgan, see if he could be one of us.”

Judith reached her small hand out pulling on the leathered charm necklace that accompanied Celia’s neck. Making her shift her attention away from Rick and down to the curious child with a bright smile. The necklace was the one that Daryl had found on his first run as Alexandria’s new recruiter with Aaron. He remembered being trapped in that car with the walkers gnawing on the inch thick glass that made up the windows. Assuming that there was no way to escape his fate he pulled out a crushed up cigarette and gripped the heart shaped necklace tightly in his clenched fist. He began to think of her to calm his nerves as death was only inches away from him, fogging up the windows. In seeing the new piece of jewelry hanging around her neck Rick spared a glance away from Judith to the man behind him, staring at his friend with a knowing glimmer behind his eyes.

A small cry soon interrupted the birds soft hymns of the morning and Celia bounced the little girl correcting her cries with a flood of giggles, “She’s probably hungry, might as well feed her some breakfast,” She looked up locking her gaze with Daryl’s, “Stay safe you two.”

And just like that the woman made her way back into the house with a mission to feed the hungry and upset child. When the door closed it left the two men as they were before, with themselves. “You’ve found something great, something to keep you going. I’m proud of you.” After Rick turned towards the so called jail house he didn’t need to look back to know that had left the redneck with a slight blush to his cheeks.

Inside the house Celia walked into the kitchen keeping her steps quiet for the sake of the sleeping people that remained upstairs. She kept Judith in her arms as she searched for their breakfast occasionally taking to her as she gathered the necessary items. Even though the child was cranky she was also hungry, and those things combined were never a good combination, “What’re you wanting, Judie.” She coaxed as she searched the cabinets.

With an exaggerated gasp and beckoned the small girl to look at her fake surprised face with wide teary eyes, “How about some apple sauce!”

The baby’s innocent eyes were no longer glassy as she saw the preparation of her breakfast. Celia put the remaining amount of apple sauce back in the cabinet and gently closed it, again not wanting disturb anyone, especially Carl, knowing that the boy probably stayed up late to finish up the comic that he had found in the attic a few weeks ago. She pulled out a clean spoon from the drawer and hummed a soft tune as she walked to the table with Judith and the apple sauce in hand.

She sat herself down on the wooden dining room chair with Judith curling into her chest as she sat on her lap. With a small smile Celia managed to feed the sleepy child with a few tricks.

“Are you ready for the airplane?” She questioned, swirling the spoon that was filled with cinnamon flavored goodness to Judith’s mouth, “One, two,” She counted down with the little girl once again giggling at her precious innocence, “Three!”

The mushy food made its was into Judith’s mouth and she downed it with no problem, finding entertainment in the older woman’s tactics at getting her fed. With the front door opening the two them looked up to see Daryl walk in with his crossbow in his hand. Daryl gave her a nod, as he acknowledged her presence and without hesitation he leaned the weapon against the wall and he walked to her pressing a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Mornin’, C.” He mumbled against her lips just before he pulled himself away.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at the man, a delicate smile snaking it’s was upward, “Morning.”

“See you got Lil’ Asskicker to calm down.”

The smile disappeared as she covered the small girl’s ears, “Daryl don’t, she’s picking up words.” She hushed, seeing that Judith was reaching out to him with her small arms.

Daryl plucked the child off of Celia’s lap and held her to his chest. She laughed and put her little hands on his face, feeling the scratchy stubble that was on his chin with her little hands.

“Ya know Rick’s arranging a meeting with everyone today. Says there’s a valley of walkers headed this way. He wants a group to go out there and lead ‘em away somehow.” Daryl mumbled, keeping his eyes on the child in his arms.

Judith found comfort in him and snuggled into his chest, gripping the fabric of his plaid button up shirt with her hands, “Are you going to volunteer?” She whispered not daring to look into his eyes, already knowing the answer to her question.

“Mm.” He responded gruffly, pacing to the available chair next to Celia.

With a content sigh he sat down with Judith, who was close to sleep as she listened to the melody of his beating heart, “You know I can’t just sit here and let them do all that on their own. These people, their inexperienced. The moment they go out there they won’t know what the hell their doin’. Rick needs everyone whose able pitchin’ in,” He reassured, keeping his voice low.

Judith soon fell asleep, feeling the rumble of his low voice against her ear that was pressed to his chest, “You’re good with her, “ Celia whispered, changing the subject, “You’d be a good father, Dixon.”

“Ain’t never been a good enough role model fir that.” He muttered, the tips of his ear growing red with embarrassment at her compliment.

“Now, that’s not true.” She whispered, leaning over to place a sweet kiss to his cheek, “Want me to get you anything for breakfast. Seeming that you’re somewhat occupied at the moment.”

Daryl nodded his head now feeling the emptiness of his rumbling stomach, “Yes, ma’am.”

Tags- 

@jodiereedus22 @crossbowking @nikki082489

[becauseiameverywhere-blog]

Cœur Brisé

Pairing: Seulgi X Jimin Type: One shot Genre: Angst Word Count: 6,605 Summary: This is where Seulgi’s happiness slipped out of her arms. (Real summary is on the following lines ;) )

P a i n

"우리 헤어지자 (Let's break up.)"

One sentence three words.

You left me alone.

You, who made me laugh, smile, proud is now leaving me.

And I...

and I...

           was left alone, all alone.

All alone to mend my heart.

All alone to suffer.

All alone to see you happy.

All alone to cry.

All alone.

I can still remember it, we met at han river at midnight of July 15 it was during our promotion of 'Red Flavor', I happily went to you, happily hugged you, telling you how much I missed you. I was happily telling you what happened during our fan signing event, telling you what Sooyoungie and Yerim did to me and played a prank to me again, I was telling you this fan who came in wearing a cute dress. I was telling you that another fan gave me a cute teddy bear and it reminded me of you.

Until those words slipped through your beautiful lips.

I really do not know if I heard it right, so I asked you again. You took a deep breath and looked at me in the eye, "미안해. 우리 헤어지자 (I'm sorry. Let's break up.)"

I just stood there, thinking what you meant, looking at you I thought you were just kidding so I laughed it off, but you were so serious that you were not even laughing.

"Why? Did I talk too much? O-or did my breath stink? Or do you hate me talking about my fans?" I was now looking at you with all seriousness. "Seulgi, hajima." I still did not listen to you and still insisted on talking about my flaws, "I-is it about me? Did I perhaps bored you? Or, or, did, did you find some-" I was frantic and my breathe was already heavy, I was already teary eyed, then you shouted at me. "Hajimalago Seulgi!" I immediately stopped, shocked, my tears suddenly poured out of my eyes, "Why!? Why are you breaking up with me!? Give me a reason!" I waited for your answer, but nothing came out of your beautiful lips, "Tell me! Don't just tell me let's break up! Why!?" With our argument getting heating up, you took a deep breath agitated and irritated already, "Do you want to know? Do you really want to know?" you looked at me intensely, "나는 너를 더 이상 사랑하지 않아  (I don't love you anymore.)" As soon as you said those words my heart which has been aching so badly, felt like it was breaking into pieces.

"You are lying! You!" I pointed at him while still crying, "Stop lying to me!" I started punching your chest, desperately wishing and hoping that you are lying, "Stop lying Jimin! Stop lying!" You just stood still while receiving my punches with your head down, "Jimin, why? Please... Don't do this to me." I don't care if I look like a mess already, I don't care if I look like a crazy person, I don't care a damn thing anymore!   

You caught my hands and looked at me in the eye, "Geumanhae Seulgi, we are through! How many times should I tell you! Let's stop this." You let go of my hands and turned away, I hugged you preventing you to go, "Jimin... Please... Hajima... Please... Let's fix this." I was clinging to you, clingin to you as if I am going to die letting you walk away, away from my life. But you still broke free from my hug, as you walked away from me,it felt as if you took my heart in my chest then you literally crushed it with your hands. Without any strength left, I just sat and cried while watching you walk away from me, every step, breaking my heart, wishing that this was just a nightmare. Wishing that everything was just a joke. Because right now it feels like the world is throwing a prank to me.

I heard a shuffling beside me for a while I thought you came back to me, telling me that it is just a prank, that you were just joking, that you were testing me. But no, it was the Red velvet members who came for me at that time, they hugged me, they were trying to comfort me. Our manager even went there, instead of getting angry at me, she pat me on the back telling me 'Gwaenchana, let it all out'.

While we are on our way back to the dorm, everything that you told me replayed in my head, "미안해. 나는 너를 더 이상 사랑하지 않아. 우리 헤어지자 (I'm sorry. I don't love you anymore.  Let's break up.)", that made me realize no matter how pretty a person's lips is, a cruel word or sentence could be created out of it. Tears uncontrollably pouring out of my eyes, lips trembling preventing for a sound to come out, mind bothered by unexpected shock, and heart, slowly but surely breaking into pieces. 

No matter how many hardships we faced, the time will always come for us when we need to break up. No matter how many years we've been, no matter how many times we stayed quiet during the times when our fans suspected us of dating, no matter how many memories we have built together, no matter how many time we spent together. No matter how much we loved each other...

In the end, we would still break.

Through all of those promises, all of those secret glances and touches we shared, you still gave up on us.

When in fact, you were the one who told me you will never ever leave me.

I feel so empty without you.

I feel like a person dancing on my own.

I feel like a bird, who's wings were cut.

I feel like an empty doll.

I feel like a toy thrown away by its owner.

I feel like nothing.

When we entered the dorm no one asked me what happened, they just hugged me, they tried so hard to make me smile and laugh. But I just can't, I left them in the living room then went to my room, since Wendy is my roommate she followed me. She tried to coax me to tell her what happened, that they were surprised when you called her and told her that I was in han river alone. They asked you why but you ended the call.

I cried once again, the freshness of the wound, the pain, and the memory, it all flashed back to me.

"He said we should break up. H-he told me that, h-he doesn't l-love me anymore." More tears escaped my eyes as those words rang inside my head. "Wendy," I looked at her and she hugged me, "he said he doesn't love me anymore. I tried so hard... I tried to tell me that... that it was just a lie... I was waiting for him to tell me that it was just a joke..." I kept on crying, "Hush. Let it all out Seulgi." Wendy kept on patting my back until I unknowingly fell asleep, while in Wendy's arms.

Wendy

While Seulgi-bear was telling me what that Park Jimin told her, Joy, Irene and Yeri were actually listening, it hurts to see that our bear is crying not because of laughing but because of that punk! 

After all of those promises he made to us, "I promise! I won't hurt Seulgi." Tch, words words words.

Aigoo.

That Park Jimin hurting our bear!

When I settled Seulgi on her bed I noticed that she was still crying and was murmuring that punk's name. Sigh, no matter how much you got hurt you still talk about him in your dreams. That punk must be taught a lesson!

When I looked at them their eyes were also burning with anger, oh boy, if looks could kill and thoughts could kill, that punk would be dead. When we went back to the living room we were discussing on what to do with Seulgi's broken heart, and about the punk.

Yeri was calling somebody, hoooo it must be her "friend" in a certain group, a certain group called BTS.

I shook my head, oh dear, another person who is possibly whipped.

I am going to plead and pray that Yerimie will not end up broken hearted like Seulgi.

"Bou!?" I almost jumped out of the sofa when Yeri shouted and looked so angry while staring at her phone. She looked so irritated and angry, "Wae? What happened Yeri?" Irene-unnie asked her, she then let us take a look on the article.

[HOT!] Netizens Speculate Jimin(BTS) and Jeongyeon(Twice) are Dating!

     Love and Hate relationship which can be seen from these two members of a known idol group are now being seen by Netizens as a cover up to confuse people that they are not dating when in fact, they are! With the recent videos that resurfaced in a known site, Naver, showing how they react to each other. It has been the most searched term and has become a hot topic among netizens. Some of them are even telling that they are dating while some are telling them that they broke up in bad terms that is why that is happening. For you guys to judge it on your own you can watch the video below:

(Y'all need to use your imagination in here hhohohohohooh I meant no harm to those who loves Twice, but this is a needed way for me to make this story more ya' know. SO DO NOT GO AND SPREAD THE WORD THAT I DRAGGED JEONGYEON'S NAME FOR NO APPARENT REASON. Nope nope nope. As an avid Seulmin fan I am discouraged by it, that is why my inspiration got more fired up because of that issue. But I am still a Seulmin shipper ^^)

I read the comments. I mean, I should not believe in anything but watching the video made me uncomfortable, the way he looked at Seul, that was the way he was looking at Jeongyeon of Twice.

[+201,-23] ****ws

           kkkkk. I knew it. They are dating.

[+123,-38] ***aw

           Pfft. Delulu, they ain't dating, or maybe they are ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[+20,0] *****hsaj

        Shipping it! ♥‿♥

[+55,-2] *******bass

        Woah woah woah! I never knew this! Let me see more!

[+238,-22] ***sd

          Lol, everyone keeps on pushing this through. But they do look so cute together though.

[+3,0] i***kjd

       o(╥﹏╥)o

[+321,-81] ******waer

           Why am I shipping this? Hmmmmmmmm. But damn, I still ship any idols to anyone who looks cute together. Btw, I ship red velvet with bts and now this arrived I am having doubts.

[+123,-23] ****kjdh

           Lol, other shippers are gonna die after looking at this! They really do have a chemistry!

[+231,-67] ****e

          (●´ω｀●) Fanfic! Fanfic!

Sigh, all of them are also sure that there is something going on between them.

"But if Seulgi knows about this..." Irene-unnie started, "It would break her more."

We all looked at each other thinking for other solutions to solve this, "We cannot let her see this, Wendy-unnie make sure that Seulgi-unnie will not read anything regarding this issue, we should confirm this first to the person itself or from a member from BTS." Joy said while reading the article again, I think she is searching for more articles connected to it. "Okay, then Yerim-ah, since you are close to Jungkook why don't you ask him? He might know someting about it." Irene-unnie suggested to Yeri.

"But, unnie," Yeri hesitated for a bit but nonetheless agreed, "I'll try." While Yeri is trying to contact Jungkook I went back to the room and checked on Seulgi who's sleeping.

"Unnie," Yeri immediately caught our attention, so I went back to the living room, she was looking grim while holding her phone. This is not a good sign. Our heart already sunked before we could hear it from Yeri. "Jungkook said that Jimin-oppa opened up to them and said that he..." she sighed deeply, "He said that he doesn't feel anything for Seulgi-unnie and that his feelings were directed to Jeongyeon. I just don't know how people's feelings could change that fast."

"Did he really just confirm everything? I mean." Joy was already fuming.

I heard the door just close, when I looked back I saw the door of our room opened.

Oh no.

This is bad.

I immediately stood up and went to the room.

"Seulgi-ah." I called out for Seulgi just to see that she is not in the room.

"Unnie! Seulgi heard our conversation!" I shouted and tried to contact Seulgi through her phone, "What?" Yeri also went to the room and saw that it was empty. Ottoke! Ottoke! Seulgi!

I heard her phone ring in the room and saw that she left it on the table.

"We need to find her! She left her phone!"

Seulgi-ah, where did you go?

Seulgi

I woke up and saw that Wendy is not here, I heard their voices in the living room when I was on the door I heard Yeri, "Jungkook said that Jimin-oppa opened up to them and said that he..." she sighed deeply, "He said that he doesn't feel anything for Seulgi-unnie and that his feelings were directed to Jeongyeon. I just don't know how people's feelings could change that fast."

What?

Jimin and Jeongyeon?

Ahh, that must be it. That's right I don't deserve him anymore. He is unfit to be with me. That's right he is suited for a top girl group. I laughed silently, mocking myself.

This must be a joke.

I got my wallet and wore a white hoodie and a mask.

I need to be alone.

I want to be alone.

This is just a joke, right?

I went out of the dorm quietly and ran. Ran away as far as I could, not minding the people I am bumping.

Not minding the rain.

This is not a movie or a drama, but why? Why is this happening to me? I became an idol like our dream together.

Jimin. We became a known idol. This is our dream together. But why?

Did you really love me? 

Ah that's right. You don't love me anymore.

I kept on running not knowing where my feet will take me.

I just realized that I am in front of their company.

I just laughed, "Hah, what kind of sick joke am I playing?" Why am I even here? He won't be here, he won't look for me, he doesn't care about me anymore.

I took a taxi going back to my hometown.

I don't care how much I spend.

I just need to see them, my parents and oppa.

Because right now, I don't even want to continue being an idol.

I don't even know anymore.

When I reached my destination I saw that the door was locked, that's right Seulgi, they are still sleeping, before I could turn around and go to another place the door opened and saw mother.

"Aigoo! Seulgi-ah! You surprised me! What are you doing there! Come inside." Mother hugged me and without any warning my tears started to flow. 

"Hm? Wae? Why is our princess crying? Did something happen? Huh?" 

"Eomma..." I just kept on crying and crying while being on her arms. 

I just kept repeating her name. Eomma just comforted me, it feels like she knows already but she kept quiet about it and just comforted me. "I really don't know anymore..." I started while crying, "Why? Did something happen?" Eomma just dried my tears with her hands and looked at me with concern, "Hng... I just want to stay here and quit everything." Eomma just kept on wiping my tears away, "Aigoo~ Our princess, everything in life is not all about being happy, we grow up by experiencing pain, rejection and mistakes. Eomma might not know everything what is happening to you but, our princess, fought so hard to become an idol, to shine and share your talents to everybody. Don't let a heart break destroy you Seulgi." I was still crying, "How did you know about that eomma?" She looked at me and smiled, "I know everything Seulgi, even if you don't tell me anything I know. You won't cry this hard even if you got scolded or made mistakes during your performance." My tears completely wiped away by eomma, "Show him! Show him that you are strong, show him that he just made you stronger and braver! You are our princess. You did not become an idol just to be left behind, you became an idol to show them that you are you and they must accept you. I'll call your other members and tell them that you will be spending the night here."

That's right, eomma is correct. I must be strong.

I must show him that I am strong. That I am fine even if he left me.

I'll be fine.

The next day I was fetched by the members and they scolded me for making them worry about me. I just went along with their teasings and tried to be happy. Trying to be happy, faking a smile pretending to be okay is hard. They knew how much I am hurting right now but the members still showered me with love. A month passes and I tried to remove his existence to my life. I flushed all of our memories together down the drain, I deleted our picture together, I threw away all of the things he gave me. I will be meeting him once again to end our relationship properly. At first, Irene-unnie was against this idea, but I made sure that they can trust me with this one. No matter how much they hate Jimin they cannot do anything since I kept on stopping them fron doing anything against him. They were even commenting negative things to Jimin as an anonymous person in a article regarding him. I stopped them and scolded them, telling them that they are not kids anymore and they should stop doing those things. Joy tried to rebel by being noisy but I just laughed at her, telling her to stop it and I'll tell her to Sungjae, with a pouting face and defying glare she said "Psh. Threatening me with Sungjae-oppa." and left the room while throwing a tantrum.

The doorbell clanged and I looked at who entered he hasn't arrived yet. The designated meeting time was 11AM but it has already been 30 minutes past the time, this coffee shop is not really relatively known and it is in a secluded place, this is where we usually meet and have a date, this place became a special spot for us, a happy memory, where I will be drawing him and he will just be sitting there looking at me.

"Hmmmmmm. Oppa." I looked at him while drawing his lips, he looked at me intensely, "Wae?" I was laughing at him and blushing at the same time, waaaaaahhhhhhh looking at his lips look so cute.

He looked surprised when I was laughing at him then he captured my face with his hands and played with my cheeks, "Oppa! I am trying to draw you! Hajimaaaa." He just kept on playing with my cheeks and gave a peck on my lips that I stopped laughing and started to blush heavily.

"Aigoo~ Yepo-da. You look so stunning while blushing." Jimin kept on complimenting me as I blushed harder, "Yah, don't distract me."

"Arasseo, arasseo. Just make sure I am really handsome in your drawing." You said while raising both of your arms.

I was laughing at the memory when Jimin sat on the chair opposite to mine.

"What do you want to talk about? I don't have time so make it quick." You asked with coldness in your voice, since I never got used to this voice of yours pain started to creep again on my chest. I snapped out and came back to the reality.

I hastily took out the box in my bag and slid it in front of you. "I just want to return these things to you. Thank you for everything, if you want to order something you can order it and put it on my tab. Then I'll go now." While I am packing up my things you looked at it and opened it. "Ah, you don't need to return these things to me, you can just throw it away." You slid the box back, "If you just want to see me you have to stop it Seulgi. I am already-" "Seeing someone else and I really love her." I continued and sighed. "I just wanted to return it to you, I have no other ulterior motives about it, and I already agreed that both of us should break up."

You looked surprised, "How did you know about me loving a different person?" I looked at you with my best poker face, "I just heard it." My mask was now falling apart as you came closer at me and I smelled a different perfume on you, a girl's perfume. Ahh, that's why he was late, he must have been all cuddly to her. She must be waiting outside. Before my mask falls of I stood up and went outside of the shop, then I got a glimpse of her waiting for you, she bowed to me then I also bowed to her out of courtesy and respect. I briskly went to my manager's car, "Oppa, let's go, I am done with my business here."

My tears still rolled down, and held my chest.

What a joke, stupid, stupid heart. Still beating for him. Still yearning for him. Haven't you had enough? He already broke you! Stop being a stupid heart!

That was the last thing that I had that made me remember you, the ring and necklace that you gave me, is the sign of me giving up.

"Don't ever remove this ring, Seulgi." I asked you while looking at you sliding the ring in my finger.

"Why?"

"This will the sign of us being a couple, so never ever remove it."

"I won't. I endured so much just to be with you so do you think I'll break up with you that easily? I'm not an easily girl, you know that Chimchim." I told you as I was looking at the ring adoringly.

"That's right, I also did not endure all of your jealousy and temper just to break up with you easily." You teasingly told me and as a retort I just glared at you and smiled at you while hugging you, "I really love you Chimchim."

"I love you too, my Seulgi-bear."

And yet, you easily broke up with me and I just accepted it. Because I already felt as if you don't love me anymore, those late night talks we spent together never happened anymore the last time we had a comeback before "Red Flavor", you never updated yourself personally with my schedules, you never bothered me anymore, you never gave the signs to me anymore. It was as if you are already bored with me, if I knew that the time you will be asking me out again would be the last time and would be the first time you will breaking my heart. 

In every award shows that I see you I always avoided looking at you. I avoided looking sad while you are trying to show a love-hate relationship with your current girl.

I am fine.

I'll be fine.

This is nothing.

But when I saw you looking at her during their performance I turned away immediately.

Ahh. Stupid heart.

When I went to the coffee shop we found together I saw both of you enjoy yourselves, both of you laughing being clingy, sweet, and more in love, when you turned your head to my direction I immediately hid, when I peeked again you kissed her, before I could cry again I went out of the shop and have decided that I'll never return here anymore.  The other members were trying to distract me and I kept on thinking about them, I tried to remove you in my brain. I spent every free time I've got in the practice room. Dancing and singing, improving my skills in everything just to get you out of my system. I became workaholic, I always spend my time in the practice room even when I got home from the studio I would always be doing something, I would draw, watch the TV, read a book, watch a movie. I went out with the members whenever we had time. I went to karaoke alone to sing out my bleeding heart.

Even after all of those efforts I did. Every time I close my eyes it would always wonder back to you.

But just hearing your name, your voice, seeing your face, seeing your smiling face, makes me stuck to you.

It made me hate it. Made me hate you.

Why?

I have been doing my best to remove you out of my system but why?

Why am I still suffering? 

I already gave you up. I already deleted all of our memories together. But why? Why is my heart still searching for you?

It has been a year since we broke up. 

It has been a year and your group's popularity rose up.

It has been a year and you are still with her.

It has been a year and I am still hurting.

If I could give an award to myself it would be Best in Being Stupid, and my speech would be "Unfortunately, this award has been given to me since I still can't get over my first love and first heart break. I still update myself with his schedule. And yes, I am still hung up on him. That is why I thank you for giving this award to me for throwing it on my face that I still love the person who left me."

Hearing your name does not really hurt me that much anymore. 

I improved myself, since most of the time you are in U.S. because you are now the top idol group in the world, I haven't been able to see you face.

We became busy because of "Bad Boy" and that reminded me of you but I still kept you hidden away from my mind and heart.

But I forgot, the world is unfair to me.

December 20, it was already past midnight when I finished my own schedule, manager oppa was driving, I am on my phone listening to a music. When our car was suddenly hit by a truck.

It happened so fast that I did not know what to do, all I can remember is shouting before I hit my head so hard that I lost consciousness. 

It was too quiet, too quiet on my own liking. 

It was too cold.

It was too dark.

"-gi!" Somebody's calling for my name, "Seulgi!" 

I want to speak but there's no voice coming out. I tried moving my hands but to no avail I can't. I'm scared. What is going to happen to me? Will I be alright? I can not feel anything. I can not do anything. It is too dark and cold.

Wendy

"Is Seulgi back already?" Irene-unnie asked, she just came back from another schedule.

"Not yet unnie." 

"Really? That's odd. She should be here already since my schedule is finished an hour after hers."

That's right, Seulgi should have been already here. She sent me a message that she is already going back an hour ago. 

Then Irene-unnie's phone rang. "Hello? Yes oppa?" Then she froze and looked so stricken with fear, "Wh-which hospital? I-is she okay? Unnie!" She snatched her padded jacket and then she grabbed my hands and ran going out of the apartment while she is on the phone. "Unnie, we will be going there right now!" Irene-unnie who is usually strong was crying in front of me. As we rode the taxi we went to a hospital and Irene-unnie told me everything. We were nervous and scared of Seulgi, as we arrived the hospital we immediately looked for our manager unnie.

"Unnie! How's Seulgi? Did the doctor say anything?" Irene-unnie who is usually collected is now panicking. 

We were in front of the emergency room, while waiting for the doctor to save Seulgi, Seulgi's parents arrived. We were all praying that she would be safe.

Then the doctor went out of the emergency room.

"How is my daughter doctor?" Seulgi's Mom was crying while asking the doctor, "We saved her on time," he paused as if there is a contradicting words waiting to be spilled, "However, apparently she received too much pressure within her skull that caused a damage to her nerves, unfortunately it was her optic nerve that has been damaged." All of us was nervous we did not understand what he was talking about, "W-what do you mean?" Seulgi's mom inquired quietly hoping that it was not a serious damage, the doctor took a deep breath "Ma'am, Seulgi-ssi's eye sight has been permanently damaged." We were at loss on what to say, "That can't be! Doctor! Please tell me there isa cure to that right?" Seulgi's mom was crying, "She cannot be blind!" We stopped her on jolding the doctor as she collapsed and kept on crying, all of us started to cry knowing what this means. "I'm very sorry Mrs. Kang." The doctor said and went ahead.

While watching over Seulgi in a private room, all of us are distraught by the accident. Even our manager oppa was injured but not greatly like Seulgi.

Joy and Yeri also went here to check on her but immediately left because there too many people here already. Since, Seulgi's parents are here we have also decided to go back to the dorm.

"I never thought that it would happen suddenly. And, the reporters knew about it so fast." Irene-unnie said while we are in the living room, since there were reporters waiting outside the vicinity we went out of the hospital through their other exit.

"Really, reporters knew about it like they are just there watching." When we turned on the TV the whole channels are already broadcasting about Seulgi's accident.

"SMent, haven't given yet a statement, but I really don't know how Seulgi would take this. This would be a great loss in our group." Irene-unnie said.

We returned to our own room and showered a bit and rested, so that later we will be visiting Seulgi.

After sleeping for 5 hours the four of us went back to the hospital and just checked on Seulgi, we arrived at a good timing since Seulgi's parents should rest so we have decided to stay and keep on watching Seulgi's condition. She is not yet conscious so seeing her in this state makes our heart sink but we need to be strong for Seulgi. There was a knock on the door so Joy opened the door, "What are you guys doing here?" Joy said in a serious tone, so we looked at the person who Joy is talking to. "We are here to visit Seulgi-ssi." It was V, Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon and Suga, they are all wearing a cap and a mask to hide their face. "Does your leader and entertainment know you are here?" Joy continued on interrogating them, sigh, sometimes she acts like a scary step-mom. All of them kept quiet and did not answer Joy's question, Irene-unnie decided to intervene before people would recognize them, "Sigh, it's fine Sooyoungie. Let them in." Since Irene-unnie is our leader and older Joy had no other choice bur to let them in. But before they could breath lightly Irene-unnie scolded them, "We are all friends here, yes, but then, if you are going to visit our Seulgi," ohhh, emphasizing our, yep, unnie is still angry to Jimin-ssi. "You need to ask for a permission from your company and manager. Your group, no, in fact, all of you are a big star, so coming here without taking any precautions can make your whole fandom get angry and can cause a dispute between our fans, you should think before coming here. Its not that I am prohibiting you from visiting our Seulgi, but just make sure you are all taking a precaution." After unnie said those words they seem guilty for not talking to their company, "We are sorry for the sudden intrusion, Irene-ssi, next time we will make sure to contact our director so that it could not be messy. Oh, and our manager actually knows about this." Suga said, and handed a flower and fruits for Seulgi, "We actually wanted to check on Seulgi, since she also became close to us." V immediately said. While Jimin is just staring at Seulgi looking grim. 

Irene-unnie took the flower and fruits for Seulgi and settled it on the table, since the room is quite large it was enough for us. It was actually a awkward situation. We are all quiet and the only one who is talking is Yerim and Jungkook. But they do not really talk that loud, Irene unnie went near me and whispered, "They should not know about Seulgi's blindness." I just agreed, because if they knew they would be coming here everyday and it could cause a ruckus if their fans knew about it, and we were instructed by our manager unnie not to tell it to anyone before SM gives a statement. While, V was staring at Seulgi and looked sad the same with Jimin. Namjoon's phone rang and when he answered it, it was time they go. "Let's go. They are already looking for us." Namjoon said to the other boys, Namjoon looked at us and they bowed, "Thank you for letting us visit Seulgi, we will be going now." Namjoon said that and they took off.

"Sigh. Friends or not it was still an awkward atmosphere." Yeri said when they went out already.

"I know right." Joy second emotioned with Yeri.

"I was actually surprised that he came with them." Irene-unnie said, when Seulgi and Jimin broke up it was never the same anymore. The atmosphere before was light and cheerful but it has now taken a grim and sour mood everytime our group collides. It was as if the thing that connected our group together with BTS was the relationship of Seulgi and Jimin. "But right now, I think we should let go of that beef for now, for Seulgi." I just said and they agreed with a silence.

While scrolling on my phone SMent already gave their statement, it said that:

Hello, this is SM Entertainment giving a statement regarding the accident of Seulgi, member of Red Velvet, and her manager.

We will be assuring you that Seulgi is now of in the safe side and is now currently resting, she will also be taking a rest due to the injury she  received due to the accident with her manager, onve she has been discharged from the hospita. We are also confirming that we will be filing charges to the truvk driver who was also involved and cause of the accident our artist suffered from. As a rightful human being it is unjust and untimely for us not to take any actions since it has been a serious car accident.

We will be updating you regarding our artist's health once she has been diagnosed and given a treatment in the hospital.

Once again, this is SM Entertainment. We will be updating you in regard to this issue, thank you.

So they did not disclose the information that Seulgi is now permanently blind.

Seulgi

I can smell the scent of medicine, am I in the hospital? I tried moving my hands and opening my eyes. I succeeded in moving my hands  is there on my eye? I can not open it. "Seulgi?" I heard my mom's voice, and I felt somebody touch my hands as well, "Eomma? W-where am I? Why can't I open my eyes?" "Wait here our Princess we will be calling the doctor." I felt the hand let go of me and I heard a shuffling of a door being opened. A minute passed and I felt somebody remove a cloth on my head and eye. "Seulgi-ssi, can you try opening your eyes?" The doctor told me, when I opened my eyes I was distraught. "D-doctor? I can't see anything." Panick was already creeping up my spine. "Seulgi-ah, please do not get angry or lose hope, okay?" "Why mom? I-is there something wrong?" A lot of things are now running in my head, worst case scenarios passed in my head before I get to hear what the doctor would tell me. "Seulgi-ssi, since the accident you received a head injury that caused your optic nerve to be damaged, in simpler term, it resulted in your blindness." I could hear him saying those things but nothing could get through my mind after telling me that I am blind. "I, uhm, it is temporarily right...?" Was all I could say, when there is no answer given it got through me. Ahh. I am blind for the rest of my life.

With no words coming out of my mouth I just stayed quiet not telling them what to say. I internally swallowed all of the information given to me. The doctor was suggesting things on how can I get used to it but I did not listen to him, everything was a blur.

Weeks have passed but I still cannot digest everything. My blindness have been already spilled by SM to the media, and right now my future turned into a different way, I was dreaming just last month on how I can improve my dancing and singing skills, last month I was dreaming of going around the world with Joy, Irene-unnie, Wendy and Yerimie. But now... Everything seems so bleak, what can I do? Just accept the reality that I will not be able to perform anymore with them.

I already packed my things to be shipped back to my hometown, and after this we will be meeting our fans, this will be the last and final stage in my life. The last day I can spend with them and the last day that I can be a Red Velvet member. 

As we arrived the venue I can hear the fans' scream and cheers.

I sang BTOB's Beautiful Pain as it talked about breaking up. I listened to this song everytime, and this time I am singing this for the fans, everybody cried. I also cried as I reached the last note. Everything flashed to me. Every moment that happened flashed back to me, the moment I met him, I debut in Red Velvet, we performed, we were loved by our sunbaenim in SM, we were cheered on by our fans when there were bad things that is being thrown at us, when we broke up, when the only that made me happy and stand up again are my fans and members. But right now everything has to stop.

I guess I got very unlucky because I did something bad in my past. I took a deep breath and gave my speech.

Everything that I did was a blur. I don't know but why is it always me who is punished?

Everything that happened is painful to be remembered.

Everything was falling apart ever since.

Everything even me was a failure.

The end.

I don't know I just ended it there. Sorry for the bad story line.

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

Luffy, son.... you are not supposed to serve tea this hot to people… (I wanted that to be its separate chapter, but it turned out to be waaay too short for that, and thus, a waste of ch numbers. Art incoming, too; because of that, this will be another “tumblr exclusive (for a while)” part.)

As I’m rather happy with this thing and it’s a halfway Law-centric chapter, I shall put it in the main tags. (this is a dumb LawXOC thing; this one seems to beee.... roughly 4500 words, attagirl)

This was the part that was fun to write even while unmotivated. I think y'all understand why. Now, for the less pleasant things, out of which I'm missing the next two or three chapters entirely… ho, boy. Now, this will be power writing. (Also thanks to anyone who might be here who might have written any of the anon messages I got to keep me going past this particular chapter???)

Ps.: do not ever sterilize your whole entire house if you have a kid. They are meant to catch things so their immune systems get stronger… and have work to do. Because if they don't, they get bored, and a bored immune system will look for shit to defend against anyway; this is how your kid gets allergies ranging from 10 pollens through animals to fucking SUNSHINE. They are meant to be sick a lot in the first couple of years, deal with it. And fucking vaccinate them, too.

31. We need to talk

8 o'clock; there's noone opening the door gently, nor is there anyone near-falling down the stairs. All is perfectly still.

Law drums on the desk with his fingers and sighs; he kind of saw this coming. Doesn't make convincing himself to go out and fetch the girl any easier, however. He's about as unwilling to seek her out as it is the other way round.

A good ten minutes later, he drags himself out of his room and up to the surface; it's relatively silent for a Saturday morning, but a lot of these idiots have been out partying, so whatever. He wouldn't be surprised if half of his crew was still out snoring on a bank or alley.

It's all the more scary when a masked rando pops up right beside him at the railing of the Thousand Sunny with a cheerful ‘yo, Kat’ as he starts checking on her whereabouts.

It's Luffy with one of those fucking… things. Looks like a cheap imitation, too. Seriously… if he didn't know it was one of these idiots, he would have gotten a heart attack. He's still way too jumpy in this body, goddamn.

“Strawhat-ya, honestly... does Kat-ya make a face like this all day?” he asks, with mild annoyance, pointing at his scowling self. “Also… take that thing off.” It's kind of creeping him out, now that he's taken a good look at it up close.

“Ah, right, it’s you, Torao… and nope, it's pretty rare,” Luffy nods, then plucks the mask off his head. “Found it between these big warehouses! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I'm not surprised it was ditched… Anyway, if even you can tell that much, then why do you keep mixing us up?” It's been like… no, not ‘like,’ it HAS been a week, for fuck's sake.

“Well, hugger you is definitely not you you, but otherwise... both Kat and Torao are worried, sad or angry most of the time, so it's hard to tell them apart, to be honest,” he states wondering as he drops the prop on deck with relative care and puts his hands on the back of his head to lounge at the railing. “Like today. And, whenever they are really tired, it feels like the prickly needle thing you get when your leg falls asleep. Everyone else tends to be more like... slow waves, when you stand in water.” He stretches one leg out and flaps the sandal to his soles.

“Huh?” What? Being talked about in third person is also weird, but… excuse him?

“The feel you two give off is pretty similar is all. Though I guess Kat is also more tense overall, at least she used to be. And she has a lot of weird jokes. That I usually don’t get,” he squints. Whenever the others find something she said funny and he doesn't get it, he feels left out, really.

“No, I mean… what would she be pissed off at?” And sad. And tense… He won't even try comprehending that other stuff. Anyhow, she can be the very literal definition of a nervous system at times, that's for sure. The very first thing he knew about her was that she was either really nonchalant about something, or about to have a panic attack, after all. And not exactly in the situations that matched those reactions... she shrugged off a date with the Reaper, but was really anxious when Nami dragged her off to get her cuts and bruises treated by Chopper on board of the Sunny two minutes later. But... halt, stop. It just registered… what does rubber boy mean by him being similar to her?

Luffy shrugs. “Dunno and don't really care. It's not even directed at anything, though... which is the weird thing about it.” He hops up on the railing to sit, then crosses his arms.

Law sighs… his observation haki will never be on this level. And the way Luffy formulates it is akin to an 8-year-old giving descriptions of a dream, which doesn't help, either. Reading faces and gestures can only get you so far, doesn't it.

Scowling a bit, Luffy eventually comes to a conclusion. “Maybe she just hates herself.”

The surgeon is a little taken aback by that; going by what this dunce just said, it makes sense, but... “Why would she...?” he mumbles mostly to himself, also crossing his arms. Going by whatever he could gather from Shachi and the rumors from her time in the dining hall, it did cross his mind that she might have some self esteem issues, that’s why he decided to be better safe than sorry and basically walk on eggshells when dealing with her. How she acts in general can support the idea, too, when considering some traits from another point of view…

“You are the one hanging out with her all the time, so why do you ask me?” Luffy pouts. The expression turns into a thoughtful one soon, then turns into mild worry.  “… do you hate yourself, Torao?”

In the blink of an eye, he and his body (that’s worryingly cold in the first place) both realize that it’s like twelve degrees Celsius at best outside, and that not taking a sweater over a thin undergarment and breezy, medium sleeved shirt was a Mistake™. “You're… overthinking it,” he responds while waving dismissively.

“Really? That's a relief!” the other captain sighs and puts a smile back on.

“... yeah.” Perhaps it all boils down to her having a similar way to handle her emotions? She did keep being in pain a secret, which is something he does, so that's one thing they have in common. But goddammit, Strawhat… don't just say things like this all of a sudden.

He peeks then up towards the garden, where rhythmic little thuds have been disturbing the silence for the past minute. They really ought to talk.

Right now.

This is much easier to do once Nami appears from the direction Kat could be, as the navigator won’t let her captain go alone and get himself lost again in town when latter declares his intention to go back, even despite his excuses of being able to see the Sunny from the church tower when it’s not dark. Having gotten rid of Luffy surprisingly quick this way, Law stops on the stairs as soon as he’s high enough to look around. He peeks towards where he suspects her being, and indeed, the noise that started somewhere down the line was caused by a dazed Kat. He weighs his options for a moment; on one hand, taking some time off is a reasonable way to handle this. On the other… if he leaves this up to the girl, she may never show her face again, which is no viable route for him to take. He’ll definitely have to take initiative.

Noticing the light steps closing in on her, Kat stops drumming her heels against the ship.

Law sighs. “Look…. I know I’m making you uncomfortable right now, but I really kind of need my body back as soon as possible.” … maybe not the best start, but he got the point across.

After a short pause, Kat bonks her head into the wooden pillar in front of her with considerable power, and takes a long, sharp breath.

Law watches in perturbed bafflement. Um… maybe… it was a bad start, after all.

“I’ll manage,” she sighs, straightening herself at once. “It’s hard to ignore, and cuts my productivity in half, but… is, what it is. I’ve kind of made peace with telling my boss as-is, too, so that won’t be bothering me.” She pauses the fast rant for a moment to cut the speed, and stares into the waves licking away at the side of the ship. She had enough time to think about this somewhat objectively during her short-ish wake around midnight and later in the morning. “And you… shouldn’t have to worry about it, either. Once you're all gone for good, it will fade away soon. Knowing myself, I might not even be able to remember your name in a few months, anyway,” she shrugs all limp. “I’m no good with names, so… it would be nothing new.” It’s a famous and super simple name that’s not hard to catch, so she likely will. Maybe even his surname, since it’s a funny one. No promises, though.

… twisting knives much? Sheesh, he never suspected her of being capable of such… savagery. And he thought Luffy was being blunt today… Generally, he likes both of their honesty quite a lot, but Kat saying that he’ll be deleted from mind as soon as he’ll be out of sight is… a bit too much. And frankly, it hurts like a bitch. If he was in any way unsure about how he felt about her until this, well... there are no doubts about it now. He better keeps all of this to himself, though.

After all... it really is for the best. Technically, good news, even. And he also gets her; it’s the pragmatic thing to do. Having any kind of amiable relationship with a pirate is not exactly easy. There's no sure way to reach them, and sending messages to someone endangers that person. Hell, they all could die the day after setting sail for all he knows. A part of him has an even deeper understanding of what she means… it's not about worrying about anyone getting killed, quite the contrary. She's sheltering herself from getting hurt, by simply staying indifferent. He handles strangers the same way, and did the same for the longest time while with the Family: laughing whenever he felt like it... helping if he wanted to, or if he had to... generally enjoying the company, but not building any meaningful relationships. The question is, though... how did she get there, to this mindset? Few normal people do that. It could be just the way she’s always been, but considering how much she strives to please people around her, and how sensitive she seems to be to other’s moods in the first place…

Who hurt her?

Getting no response and feeling his eyes on her back is getting to her fast; Kat puts her head back against the pole and continues. “... Sorry, that sounds... really mean... but I suck at keeping in touch anyway. People just... come and go?” She shrugs, then starts to swing her legs again, until her heels hit the ship and she stops with limbs still flailing about. “I have no idea what my kinda-friends from high school or college are up to, either. Even when I think about fun times and miss someone… I never sit down and write a letter or go visit. I don’t get any further than grabbing a pen, but… what even are the chances they still live where they used to, huh?” She puts on a bitter smile that fades away fast. “Am I... a bad person? For that?” Her voice is unstable and hoarse at this point. She takes a shaky breath, followed by a gulp.

“... no, you're not.” Not being able to keep up with people is okay. Being stuck in a cage of her own making is, though. He takes a moment of consideration, then joins her at the railing.

Kat stares down to where her hands should be through the white pillar as Law plops down, then speaks up after a short pause while holding back a sniffle. ”The other week, I was wondering... why none of them tried to hit me up, either. Ever. I guess I'm just... that insignificant...” The sniff escapes and she also needs to wipe off a tear.

“…” He didn’t plan on joining a therapy session, nor doing anything else past talking, but a good old shoulder pat is definitely warranted here, so that’s what he does. Realizing that the cold hand made her shiver is too little, too late, so he just rolls with it. “Now, now… you know like a dozen of infamous people as of last Tuesday, so that automatically makes you count for something.” Her self esteem really seems to be in a bad shape. There's definitely some asses that ought to be kicked on these islands, because this is definitely not normal behavior.

Cannot help but crack a smile at that. “If you say so.” She rubs her eyes. “Sorry, I went off tangent again.”

“As did I the other day… and? Got it out of your system?” Seems like she’s bouncing back at least.

“Kinda,” she breathes after a pause.

“Just kinda?”

“…” She rests her temples against the railing again, even though it’s starting to hurt, bump she just made notwithstanding. “Every now and then, I keep thinking… how there would be someone in my place to do all the things I do.” Her eyebrows furrow. “If not now, then later. I’m just another pebble in the sea, and it feels… suffocating.”

“… I see.” Oh, boy… this actually sounds like more zero filter stuff, but without drugs to make it weird. Which is iffy, since he’s far from being a psychologist. Well, is what it is… take notes, analyze, and most importantly, watch your fucking mouth.

“Like, I know it’s the same for important people, inventing and doing actual, impactful stuff. Because, there’s little difference in the grand scheme of things, is there? It just doesn’t matter whether something happens today or in a hundred years. Everyone is replaceable. As is everything else. What I wanna say, is… wanting attention… at all… makes me feel selfish. Even when it probably shouldn’t.” Feeling the hand on her shoulder makes it tingle… she’d move, if not for knowing that he would lift it off again.

“… Um…”  Okay… he might have stepped into this one hard. Aside from blinking wildly, because this has suddenly nosedived into deep waters… he needs a second here. The spaced-out girl he got to know in the past two weeks thinks about this shit regularly? She did seem less bubbly and way less excitable than she actually is at first glance, but… holy shit. She actually is pretty good at brooding herself. If he wasn’t so dumbfounded, he’d be impressed. “… wow, I… never considered the possibility that you could be a nihilist.” A very sentimental nihilist. That’s certainly what he takes from this. The conclusion is kind of enlightening.

She remains silent for a second, then squints. “... all I crave is death.”

Law lets out an exasperated sigh, then slaps her on the back of the head resulting in another light bonk. “Don’t you think for a second that I cannot tell the difference between you being serious and on the brink of grinning like an idiot,” he tells her off with the other hand on his hip. She may be trying to keep a poker face up, but none can do if she’s gonna use that overly dramatic delivery anyway. This woman, he swears to god.

And, as soon as the jig is up, there it is: the smile.

She reaches up to scratch the head area that stings a little after getting smacked. “Heh… sorry, had to break that gloomy mood.” Though, no lie, she does like talking about heavy stuff like that. If Law did not seem to be bothered by it, she probably would have continued.

“By willingly pissing me off?” Was that really necessary?

“Well… it worked, didn’t it?”

“Touche,” he breathes, crossing his arms. “But don’t make a habit out of it, if you know what’s good for you.” If she has actually figured out how to dig down to his berserk buttons, she’s playing with fucking fire, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she found enjoyment the activity. “I can fix myself up as soon as I get my body back, and rearranging your internal organs or face with, or without my powers, is not beneath me.”

She nods, humming. “I didn’t doubt for a second that you’d make a feisty kuja, alright. Will not overdo the gremlin act.”

“… good.”

After a silent pause, Kat stops rubbing her head. “… say, Law?”

He lets out a questioning hum.

“Are you in pain… because you were sick?”

“…” Is there a point to tell her anything if it’s so obvious in the first place? Oh well, she's asking, so… “Yeah. There are a few intergrowths I cannot really do anything with. Removing the lead deposits left my body aching at random, the bigger they were, the worse it is… you’ve probably noticed, but some areas like the left side of my torso and the right jaw are the main culprits. Those spots tend to act out a little even when everything else is fine. And I have additional god awful headaches when it’s too hot or cold outside and I don’t hidrate proper. These are honestly the worst aspects of it, no lie.”

“Act out like... Saturday evening?” When she first noted how something was a little off? It’s the only common experience they have…

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, like that. The odd tissue that seems cancerous during a checkup, I can get rid of... but the fucking pain just won’t go away. Unless I kill off the receptors altogether, but that strikes me as an exceptionally stupid idea.” Even if it sounds really tempting at times. Maybe if he did it to his internal organs only…

“Wait…” Kat takes the first look at him today, and looks very much taken aback at that;  “did you say cancer?” As soon as he looks back, she averts her eyes again. Seeing him, save looking him in the eye, is just… not something she can handle at the moment.

He blinks at the reaction, but keeps his eyes on her for a second. “Heard me right. Don’t shit yourself, I can deal with it.” Looking back in front of him, he adds, “I’m also legally infertile, but that’s the least of my problems.” He’s unlikely to get old, too, but honestly… there’s only so many times you can cheat your expiration date.

“Oh,” she says a second later. And sounds quite disappointed at that.

“... don't you ‘oh’ me. You can have all the kids you want for all I care.” As long as her plans involve someone else, that is. … aw fuck, brain, don't you have anything else to comment on?

“Oh, no, no, no, it's just…” She gives the sideburns a scratching; “This is going to sound so stupid… but you seem like… the dad type?”

Law laughs out at the ludicrous idea. “Me? Seriously?” Geez, that’s so… out of the blue. Even more so than the being married line. Never even seen him with a kid around, has she? They just tend to shit their pants right away. He needs to put a hand on his temples to process this a bit… and to make sure there’s no headache caused by stupid on the way. “God… the hell makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters… someone like Luffy would drop his toddler into the ocean by accident, which you would… not.” As simple as that. From what little she’s heard about Garp’s parenting… even if Law happened to be on the strict side, there is, like, no competition here, honestly.

A millisecond of consideration ends up in a concerned, solemn nod on Law’s part. He wouldn’t want Strawhat oversee children in general, or at the very least, not leave them with him all alone. He out-dads him in any technicality regarding safety and common sense, so that’s a score.

“You still could be fun around, though,” Kat continues leaning back; “Like… you would totally do something like sticking them to the ceiling as punishment for being bad,” she muses with a little relaxed smile, pulling up some average family scenarios. “but, unless you are obviously angry with them, they would love it instead. You could experiment with pretty much everything from floating to chopping them up, but all would backfire spectacularly as they think of it as just another game.”

“... can’t argue with that,” the notes, raising a brow. “Little hellraisers be like that.” Punishing a kid that's acting out, well… Best bet would be the basic ‘send them into a corner’ situation instead of getting creative, huh?

“You’d also be the go-to solution for homework… despite not being helpful at all.” Definitely trolling the shit out of anyone who’s trying to use him for an easy pass… yes, yes. Would come through when needed, too, she knows that much firsthand.

“Correct,” Law nods with a smug grin. He absolutely would be the most useless genius around. It would drive them crazy and he would be enjoying the hell out of it. If they legitimately did not understand something, though… that’s actually negotiable.

Having seen enough of his self-assured smile from the corner of her eye, she addresses him directly. “... get off your high horse, Law. You might be a little shit, but you’d also be out-bawling anyone at any milestone your kiddos reach whatsoever,” she states with an amused look.

“Absolutely not,” comes the indignant reply; “Do I look like the sentimental type to you?”

She takes a long, thoughtful look at his general direction. “Look… I might not be able to guarantee it, but as far as I’m concerned, you would transform into the worst mess of a doting ‘pappa’ there ever was as soon as you’d be holding your firstborn.” First day of school and graduations would be just as bad, if not worse… god save everyone if he’s around for a wedding. Him sobbing in a tux while trying to operate a visual transponder is not a mental image she’ll forget any time soon. In fact, she’s going to treasure the hell out of it. Even if she’s more used to him looking like her, so it takes some extra imagination points to see him in his own body.

Her chuckle earns a very unamused face. “I won’t even begin to try and imagine what you just thought of, but really? Really really?”

“Ve-really,” she states while booping his nose, then gets her hand pushed off to the side. “Honestly… you’re saying it’s very unlikely in the first place, right?” She ponders, scratching her head while sitting upright again. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be all over a baby? Beating whatever low odds?”

“...” She’s probably not wrong on that one. Up to eight, maybe ten per cent aren’t a lot...

“And let’s not even get started on the naming process… You have at least…” her fingers straighten one by one; feather guy, little girl, baby’s grandparents, and who knows, who else? “four, if not a dozen they’d have to pry from your cold, dead hands before settling for anything else!” He based his entire image on one of these people, for fuck’s sake. First boy would definitely get that name, whatever it may be.

… not to mention the chances of a healthy child…

“And… little ones are always sick or some shit, right? You’d go into doctor overdrive. Give them checkups like every fucking week, and be staring from over the bathroom door to make sure they wash their teeth, and… dude, I’d fucking hate to be your kid, oh my god!” At least it takes him like point five seconds to sterilize the entire house instead of scrubbing everything all day like a manic housewife, but holy shit…

“Kat…“

“I have no idea how you’d handle feeding them in any capacity, though… you run, like, exclusively on a handful of veggies, rice, potatoes… and chicken… and fish. And, you suck at cooking.” And the occasional drink. Would he be willing and able to make legit sandwiches…? He has no qualms touching the bread, made those French toasts, so that’s a start. This kind of presupposes him being allowed in the kitchen like a single dad, but still, she can’t help wondering how he would tackle that humongous elephant in the room if the need arises.

“Kat-ya, stop.”

The edge in the word startles her enough to delete the train of thought altogether. “Uh… um…” Did she say something wrong again? Did she hurt him? Or insult him? Is… is he angry…?

He sighs, staring into the darkness underneath the waves. “I suppose… you are right,” he says a few seconds later, his head also meeting the railing. “I am… the dad type.”

She stares down at her now interlocked hands; the images she found so amusing before…  look sickly and pale all of a sudden. A quick reality check has sucked all life out of them. Managed to fuck his day up again, huh?

“Dreaming… is dangerous,” Law concludes. The last time he did something like that… came with just another harsh wake-up call.

“… sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.” Again.

“Eh, I’ll get over it.” However… he’s once again reminded of the fact that he’d been living to fulfill a singular goal for over a decade, and ever since he’s pretty much reached it, he’s been feeling… well, rather lost, to be honest. Stretch goals, like going against Kaido are a sufficient distraction at best. Sometimes he hears a little voice in the back of his head breaking through regardless before muffling it, talking about being tired of this life… bringing up the clinic of his own he's always wanted… having a home to return to.

Peace.

He knows better than to hope for any of that.

A single finger tapping his arm makes him realize that his eyes and nose cavity are burning up. This is followed by her barely audible, little mouse voice; “... Law?”

He takes a shaky breath and rubs his temples, sneaking in a finger to wipe away the half-ripe tear from the corner of an eye. “I’m fine, I’m…” he comes to a halt upon looking at her; “oh my god, are you crying?”

“... a little,” Kat squeaks after swallowing once.

Law snorts all of a sudden, then breaks out in painful laughter. The tears are also coming, but fuck it, because... while he’s hurting, this… also feels kinda good. Actually, it feels great. Talking about all of this… is great. She’s a better psychologist than he could ever aspire to be. Cafe girl… you are too fucking nice for your own good. Sincerely, fuck you.

As soon as the surprise wears off, Kat joins in, too.

After a solid minute or two, Law flops on the grass with hands covering his face. “... both of us… are kinda fucked up, huh?” he ponders out loud after the last couple of laughs. It’s kind of a dumb question; who even is not fucked in the head from all the people that he knows? He should have known that she was no different, even if the causes are still a mystery. No wonder the two of them can hit it off.

“I guess so,” Kat sniffs, rubbing her entire face that must be as red as it feels.

Sliding his freezing hands lower, Law stares skyward at the thickening clouds for a while. Laughing and crying are both exhausting… not to mention doing both at once. It feels like floating in a weird dream. Peaceful, even. Every weight has slid on his back, which is neatly supported by this nice ship made of pure sunshine, leaving him to breathe freely for the time being. He would say a ‘thank you,’ but it gets stuck somewhere in his throat.

He must be in really fucking deep, huh. Not that he minds, though… it feels really nice, after all. A little too much to be true, yes. But for now… he doesn’t want to worry about his short future. Instead, right here, right now... he just wants to enjoy this moment.  As much as he can. As long as he can. To the fullest.

[archiveofolives]

Ring of Keys and Other Stories II

A/N/SUMMARY this is the other stories part lmao, also notice how i have gone down the final fantasy route (see how much easier it is to just number everything instead of coming up with all these nice titles). theme for this fic is alternative universe/timeline and bc i am such a trash for modern hong kong, y'all can guess what sort of au this is ♥ also i kept a lot of medical things hella vague here so pls don’t chase me with a fork i googled the best that i could :x

RATING/WARNINGS pg-13??/some, very little tho, language, mentions of sex

WORD COUNT 18,659 (which is your cue to run, run far far away)

AO3 here

—

When the doctor had put down his exam results, slipped off his glasses and looked him in the eye, palms on the table, Chiro knew then what it meant.

Funny that between the two of them, he was the one who offered a smile that might buoy crumbling spirits yet. “It’s okay. I wasn’t counting on a miracle,” he assured him.

The doctor sighed, clearly troubled by his stubborn optimism. Well, what other choice did he have? He’d tried crying, complaining, even getting depressed over it but all they ever gave him was a terrible headache after a night drowned in various forms of alcohol. “We tried our best,” he offered, in what he recognized as a sign of solidarity.

Chiro broke out in a grin. “We did,” he agreed. “Can you tell me how long I have, though?”

With a deep sigh, the doctor glanced at his exam results again but he was already shaking his head. “I’d say…you’d be lucky if you made it to six months.” He shrugged as his patient nodded. “But again, I’m cautioning you. There is no certainty with predictions.”

“I think we both understand that perfectly clear.”

“If I can offer you an advice, though,” the doctor cleared his throat, putting his weight on his desktop, braced on his elbows. “Take this time to adjust your lifestyle, and see the things you want to see. While you still have the chance.”

“That’s good to hear,” Chiro said, grinning again. “At least I don’t have to worry about your exorbitant fees anymore.” The doctor shook his head, chuckling. “I’ll send you a postcard from Paris.”

That was probably the last time he was going to see him again.

He stepped out of the doctor’s clinic with a distinctive feeling that he’d just closed the door to his old life, and walked right into a new chapter that had been a long time coming. Something he’d desperately tried to avoid but now that it was there, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The kind that came with sweet surrender after living in the jungle for so many years. Suddenly, everything felt so delicate. So soft at the edges, like a newborn world. The air he breathed in felt sharp and clear, as if it hadn’t been filtered through so many ventilation channels.

That was the first time he’d noticed that his doctor had changed his name plaque from the old, cracked plastic to a new, polished silver. He felt sorry he hadn’t mentioned it during his last checkup.

But he didn’t linger; with a step back, he started down the set of lifts, into his new life. Suddenly, there was a growing list of things he had to do before his time was up. He pulled out his battered leather wallet from his back pocket and searched within for his octopus card. Best get it out now before he held back a stream of commuters, trying to look for it between his receipts and his notes…

“Hey, you,” a man’s voice echoed slightly in the clean corridor behind him. Slightly rough on the edges, a baritone perfect for oration. “You in a black leather jacket.”

Chiro turned, a bit embarrassed that he hadn’t realized it was him. The man who called was somewhere his age, dressed simply in a blue shirt with a logo in Japanese on his chest and a pair of jeans, faded as a matter of style. He had a closely shaven head, a pair of rimless, round glasses and ears that foretold a long life. If one believed one’s grandmother.

Ears raised a sheet of white paper, folded in four quarters. “Never walk out of a hospital without your prescription,” he advised him wisely.

Chiro laughed, opening his fat wallet again to inspect its contents before be marched back to Ears and retrieved his note. He must have missed him in his excitement.

No, he definitely missed him. The corridor only had one exit and it was the one he was walking out of.

“Thank you,” he said as he opened up the paper, and smiled, all teeth. It was the brochure of some new phone shop he’d passed in one of the malls in Wan Chai, printed from a home computer and then photocopied with a handwritten correction.

He folded it in quarters again. Walking backwards, he raised the brochure between his fingers and replied, “Never look at another man’s prescription.” Ears’ brows furrowed and he frowned. Chiro turned back on his way.

Seems he was off to a good start.

⚭

By the time Chiro had gotten back to his flat near Tin Hau station, a modest bachelor pad that was 5 years well past its prime but kept clean thanks purely to his efforts, half the day had already gone by.

The mew came while he was in the kitchen, attracted by the ringing of his keys that hit the glass table after he’d put down his grocery bags. “I’m here,” he called back to the sound, shrugging off his jacket. “Mobius?”

Mobius appeared with another meow, a cream tabby cat very happy with his diet, slinking through the open doorway en route to the man. His appearance made him smile widely. “There you are!” Chiro said triumphantly. He pulled up his jeans to crouch, then extended both his arms to the cat who ambled over excitedly, like a pet who knew that a treat was forthcoming. “Sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.” There was no reply, of course, except for the cat’s two forepaws which he lifted onto one knee so that the man could pet him. “I went to the bank, and I think I might have gone a bit overboard in the grocery mart. Money could be a problem soon, but I guess I’ll figure something out.” Mobius made a purr, eyes shut tight in comfort while he massaged his head.

He grinned, contented. “Lucky for you, you’re a cat who doesn’t have to worry about these things. As for me?” His voice softened, fingers now scratching the contented cat’s chin. “In six months or less, I’m finally going blind.”

⚭

“But that’s too bad…and it’s such a shame, Mr. Yim. The children love you.”

Even if they didn’t, it really was a shame to lose the money coming in. He sat in the president’s small office overlooking the green garden, still dressed in the white tangzhuang he sometimes wore during his sessions with the children. Outside, those young bodies in their colorful gym wear, some even in proper changshan dresses or shirts like his own, moved patiently, carefully to the music they put on for their Tai Chi lessons. They were surrounded by a sparse wall of nurses in white, visiting parents and some kids in wheelchairs who couldn’t always join but still enjoyed watching.

Chiro smiled apologetically. “I don’t want to leave the kids, too, but I need to look after myself for now. I’ll keep coming back for as long as I can still see, but my field of vision is getting narrower and narrower…”

“Of course, that’s completely understandable,” the president said but she still looked and sounded disappointed. “In any case, you can still come and visit. You will, won’t you? Even when you’re…”

“Blind?” He grinned. “It’s a shame but nothing to be ashamed about.” The president looked uncomfortable. “But of course, I will. Once I’ve learned how to live without my eyes…maybe I can come back and continue the lessons.”

“Oh, that would be good!” The president sounded relieved, for whatever reason. It was true that they were acquaintances before—he wouldn’t have gotten this job if they weren’t—but there must be hundreds of Tai Chi practitioners scattered around Hong Kong Island, hell even within Wan Chai District alone. He didn’t think she’d have much trouble looking for a suitable replacement,assuming this was the plan now. “Have you told the kids?” she asked.

He couldn’t answer quickly enough. His spirits faltered a little, just as the melody playing from the radio in the garden was rising. “I’ll tell them before I go,” he decided. He’ll just have to find the right words first.

⚭

The great thing about speaking with children was that they had no sense of gravity and dread. It only took him all of five minutes to satisfy the bubbling curiosity of the young ones seated around him on the grass, and then he was saying goodbye to them as they headed off, back to their rooms to rest.

Perhaps it helped that he hadn’t been with the children’s hospital all that long, which certainly didn’t explain the multitude of pictures he had with them. His first class, lots of birthdays, going away parties for the kids finally going home.

Counting the faces he was going to have to leave behind from one of his class photos, he realized suddenly that he didn’t know what to do with his photographs once he’d lost his sight. And he was so fond of them. He lived alone but he’d surrounded himself with pictures of his friends, his travels, himself in some of the best places he’d once only dreamed of as a child obsessed with movies like Indiana Jones, as many his age had been. But unlike many others, he’d gone the extra mile and come to Cairo and Giza in Egypt, and Petra and Wadi Rum in Jordan. His last trip had been to see the Uluru at sunrise before his eyes had started to fail him, and then the money he was saving up to go to Monument Valley had gone to his exams and medications. Now he didn’t know how he could earn them back in time before he went blind.

Too bad. Soon, there would be no way he could see them anymore, the way he might still be able to read with braille or audio devices. At least not in the near future. In the meantime, in the interest of self-preservation, he’d had to mark off the furniture and things—all his beloved photos and picture frames—he’ll have to give away, sentimental value or no. His flat was tight enough as it is without the extra bulk. Where exactly they were going to go, though, was going to have to be a problem for yet another day.

His eyes were starting to hurt from the glare of the laptop; he’d been on it for the past hour or so, scouring the Internet for support groups and government benefits he might take advantage of. He pushed the lid shut, set the machine down on the floor next to him and stretched out, reaching to replace the class picture on the glass table just over his head, near the left arm of the couch he laid on. Not for the first time, he wondered if being blind meant living his days like this forever. Just lying down, gazing around his apartment…or not, as there would be nothing to see once his eyes had gone.

Soon enough, he would have to start calculating the steps that would take him from the door to the kitchenette, the bathroom just next to it, how many paces across his living room, past his shelves and drawers and the TV on his way to his tiny bedroom at the end of the whole flat.

The timid jingle of a bell, like it was attached to a pillow that had fallen off his bed, distracted him from his thoughts. Every tiny step after it was marked with quieter rings.

At least he knew that the collar he’d bought Mobius worked. Chiro whistled, and the cat appeared from his bedroom with a crimson band around his neck, one with a slight V-shaped drop where the bell was attached. Whistling again, he teased him, holding out his left foot.

Mobius took the bait with careful eagerness. He ambled to those wiggling toes and raised a paw to bat them only to be scooped up by the same foot and raised high. Sheer feline talent, ability and luck had kept him from listing as he slid down the length of his owner’s leg.

Chiro caught him at the bottom with both hands and lifted him up like one would a lion cub. Mobius issued a tiny mew of complaint. He laughed.

“What are you going to do once I’ve finally gone blind?” Chiro asked him. “I’ll have nothing else to do, and you’re stuck with me forever.”

⚭

“This coming Friday,” he continued with his parting reminders, “we’ll be starting one hour earlier becaaause…it’s—!”

“Kelly’s birthday!!” The chorus came like a wall of bells all ringing as one as the wind blew, as if these kids hadn’t been sick all along or that the cure for all illnesses really could be found in the promise of cake. Chiro, in a respectable red-lined black changshan set, flailed in surprise but quickly ducked and plugged his ears to the delight of the children.

“Not too loud, not too loud! You’ll make me both blind and deaf.” He grinned at their laughter and giggles. “Okay, okay, I’ll see you all on Friday.”

“You’ll still be here?”

Chiro bent closely to look at the girl’s wide-eyed surprise. “Yes. I will. Don’t forget to dress in red. Bye-bye!”

He straightened up and waved to the children who turned and waved back while the nurses and their parents ushered them back in the hospital. He stayed behind to watch them, perhaps for one of the last times possible.

“Mr. Yim!”

He swung left, searching for the voice beyond the limits of his blurred vision. The president had to call him a second time before he spotted her crossing the grass, a tiny figure in a white coat and a green spotted dress next to a man in a dark khaki suit and glasses. She looked like she was going to stumble in her leather pumps any time now but seemed happy to do it.

“It’s good that you’re here. There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.” She was all diplomatic niceness when she gestured to the man in a suit next to her which Chiro took as his cue to put on a smile for the introduction. “This is Mister—”

“Baz. No need for formalities.”

His smile froze in place. He could barely believe his eyes. Apparently Ears had a name, and his name was Baz.

Baz smiled at him. “Seems like we always meet in hospitals,” he said.

Chiro’s cheeks relaxed a little. “I hope you don’t believe in superstitions, Mr. Baz.”

“Just Baz, really.”

“Baz has been one of our staunchest investors since the hospital was built. This is Mr. Chiro Yim,” the president interjected in time, hand towards him. “He’s been coming to teach the children Tai Chi.”

Baz gestured to him. “Does it work? Tai Chi?”

“Depends on two things:” Chiro ticked them off by his fingers. “One, if you believe in it, two, if it’s convenient.” And with that, the formalities were concluded with polite laughter.

Right on cue, Baz pulled out his iPhone and peered at the screen through his glasses. Contrary to what Chiro would have imagined during their first meeting, he looked very smart, and very busy in a suit. He figured he had another meeting coming up soon, and that the introduction was made only for the sake of courtesy. “Okay, we’ve got a table,” Baz announced. “Mr. Yim, lunch?”

“What?” he spat, surprised to be wrong. What happened to the meeting? “Is that an invitation?” Was that his name?

“Depends on two things:” Baz ticked them off by his fingers. “One, if you’re fine with Asian fusion, and two, if it’s convenient.”

⚭

It was convenient, of course. Free lunch was always convenient.

And never mind that he came in a black leather jacket, a plain white shirt, a pair of well-loved jeans and off-white chucks that had never been washed since the day he bought them. As was the proper way of caring for them but the place looked like its menu contained only offerings with prices that were inversely proportional to the amount of food that was placed on the plate. That in spite of that, the place was still so full, Baz had to wait for a table to be freed, was something he had not yet fully comprehended.

He gazed around the restaurant after their orders had been placed and the president excused herself to make a call. A general salmon color, brightly colored flowers, white cornices and table cloths, Parisian cutlery, wide windows, sunlight streaming in. Slouching forward, arms crossed loosely on the tabletop, he asked his host, “Are you a regular here?”

He caught him drinking water. Baz shook his head. “First time,” he said, setting his glass down next to his plate. “It’s not really my taste but my friends never shut up about it. I mean…” His fingers drew circles around the air. “Friends around the erm…”

“Business,” Chiro finished for him. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he said, “Sounds like you’re hesitant to call them friends.”

“I just don’t want any misconceptions,” Baz grumbled. “Why do you ask? You’re looking for a place to date your girlfriend?”

Chiro’s beam went straight up to the corners of his eyes. “Why do you ask that?”

Baz pointed a finger to his hands. “No ring. But typically, you should be married by now.” He folded his arms over the table. “So maybe you have a girlfriend.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“I’m already paying for lunch.”

“So you don’t want to make a bet.”

Baz looked at him dead-eyed, lips tight enough to make it seem as if he was trying to chew out a reply, maybe from the inside of his cheek.

Best not to push him. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he finally answered. “And I don’t have a boyfriend, either, in case you’re also curious.”

Baz nodded, satisfied.

“And you?”

Baz raised his naked fingers, flipping his hands back and forth. “Nothing to see here.”

“We’re birds of the same feather, then. Young, wild and free,” Chiro said, and smiled when Baz guffawed. It was such an honest sound, he’d even call it pure. He didn’t know many who could be so genuine without risk of being vulgar.

“You have a way with words, Mr. Yim.”

And he looked so kind and candid, like the lines on his face had been etched permanently by unabashed laughter. He didn’t know how he didn’t see this before. Perhaps he’d been too intimidated by the suit and the restaurant. They’d made him look cold, impersonal but his eyes looked soft. They gave him the face of a friend.

“Just call me Chiro,” he said. “All my friends call me that.”

⚭

Baz Ma. That was his full English name.

Born in Guangzhou, he was a philanthropist and a businessman with an admirable, if humble, net worth. Many of the pictures he found on Google had Baz either shaking hands with someone in a sharp suit or passing goodie bags, planting trees or addressing a room full of young children in a plain shirt and jeans like from when they’d first met. The only time both sides of Baz had ever crossed the proverbial line was in pictures of the Qiantang tidal wave back in 2013, where he was shown carrying an injured boy, presumably to safety. Baz was drenched to the bones with a cut on his left cheek, right there on the crest. He’d married in secret some time before but divorced his wife one year later. They had no children.

Many of the businesses he was involved in were hospitals, schools and food providers. He was also the president of two foundations aimed to the poor, but for all his good intentions, he could not escape the suspicions that he had connections to one of Hong Kong’s triads.

Chiro couldn’t believe it. That kind face, a gangster? He tried to imagine it. He supposed it couldn’t really be said these days,they came in all kinds of shape and form.

But he remembered the laugh, his serious responses. He didn’t crack jokes or make witticisms. Somehow he thought it was more important for the man to be truthful than to be clever or funny. It was a brand of honesty that could only have been built in good conscience, and not on the shoulders of murderers and slaves.

He remembered that Baz said he didn’t want any misconceptions about his friends in the business…

He must have been staring at the screen for too long, the headlines an ugly accusation, because suddenly, his timer was ringing and suddenly, he realized that he was sitting in the glass table in his kitchenette, waiting for his dinner to cook. He hurried up to the stove to finish it.

He set down his bowl of noodles just next to him while he read on, clicking and scrolling.

The rumors started when a known triad financier was spotted in one of Baz’s charity events, even pictured shaking hands and clapping shoulders with him. The amount donated was later leaked to the press who, being gracious, granted it the wildfire attention it deserved. Half-page coverages, one minute spots in all news shows.

The foundation’s defense was that the financier had fulfilled his prison sentence accordingly and had expressed his desire to turn a new leaf, therefore there was no reason for them to judge him and doubt his intentions. That seemed only to fuel the rumors that Baz was really working hand-in-hand with the triad although all evidences brought to light had been circumstantial by far. It was an open case as far as the interested public was concerned.

Chiro pushed down the lid of his laptop and sat back in deep thought. He listened to Baz’s laughter again and recalled his easy countenance. He preferred it if he was only “Baz”, that high-end restaurant was not really his taste…everything about him just screamed down-to-earth, even though the man felt like he was so quiet, he wouldn’t even be caught screaming. To see him as a gangster needed a pretty good working imagination…

Or maybe he was just too blind to see it…

⚭

“…eighteen…nineteen… twenty…”

He almost jumped when his raised fingers felt the smooth plastic face of the door he knew belonged to his bathroom. Excitement filled him and tempted him to open his eyes but he managed to fight down the impulse at the last minute. Collecting his breath, he searched for the round door knob and gave it a good twist.

Everything that followed were actions instilled by so many years of living in that place. He reached for the switch at the side to flick it on, listened to the muted humming of the light before it cut itself off abruptly. In place of looking, he felt for the smooth tiles of the wall and scraped at the textured ones with his bare foot.

Chiro closed the door, stepping out. That was one blind route of many mastered, at least. Now onto the next.

“One,” he began again, “two…three…”

He slid and laid his feet carefully and gently across the floor and felt a vague leap of pride when he felt the rough face of a cardboard box against his toes. One point for Chiro Yim for being cautious! He inched aside until he was free of the obstacle and continued. “Seven…eight…” He raised a foot.

Bang! went his knee when it met the acquaintance of a glass table.

The noise Chiro made had scared Mobius out of one of the many open boxes he’d taken residence of, half-filled with his stuff. He didn’t see this but he heard the panic, the scratch of claws and the stumble for safety. His eyes flew open to a confusing world of blurred vision and brief clarity that made him wonder for a second there if he had somehow also hit his head. With the help of adrenaline, a ringing pain and some form of animal instinct, he managed to hop towards his empty couch, carrying his knee on his hand.

When he dropped himself to the cushion, he noticed he was crying. But damn, that really hurt! He wished he could ask his cat to get an ice pack from the freezer. He wanted to try but his leg still felt numb and weak from that bitter argument with the furniture and he was just in no mood to try. Careful fingers probed the injury. By some blind luck, he hadn’t broken a bone but he’ll need an ointment before the bruise turned into a monster.

He’d already started to move his injured leg up onto the couch when his phone rang where he’d left it on the blasted glass table that had once carried precious memories in plastic frames. Chiro hadn’t even thought to check the number and the empty face on the screen, too absorbed by the inconvenience and his knee, before he took the call and grunted out, “Hello?”

“Good morning, may I speak with Chiro Yim?” the voice asked, deep as an ocean.

Chiro might have choked on his spit. He wondered again if he’d hit his head. “Baz?” he croaked. How did he get his number?

“Oh good, it’s you. You remember me,” Baz went on without preamble. “I got your number from Cindy. Are you okay?”

“I’m—” Chiro looked at his knee, as if he could see it through his track pants. Could Baz get him an ice pack? “Yes, just fine. Just surprised. How did umm—” Cindy, the president. Right. “You umm…you need—can I help you with something?”

“If I called at a bad time, I’ll just call again later.”

“No! No, ummm…” He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m not busy, I’m not doing anything right now.” Well, not anymore after he banged his knee like an idiot. “Is there something wrong?”

“N, no…” Baz began. “…the truth is that I wanted to ask you what days you come in to teach Tai Chi to the children.” He spoke quickly.

Chiro wasn’t sure he’d caught that at all. “What?”

“I’d like to watch. The children. I mean,” Baz coughed, “Cindy said…that the children have shown good improvement since you started coming in. I’d like to watch.”

Straightforward, although he’d stumbled a little along the way. Not a hint of arrogance, of his rank and wealth demanding the service and obedience he expected and deserved.

“The president didn’t tell you?” That is to say, he couldn’t have asked the president?

“I…” Baz contemplated the rest of the sentence. “…forgot.”

Honest, genuine, down-to-earth Baz. Despite himself, Chiro smiled at this man who could not deceive to hide his lack. What a character. “I go in Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and every other Saturday.” He thought he heard the man breathe a sigh of relief. “My classes start at 10am but on Saturdays, I have another session at 2pm.”

“Sounds good,” Baz said, with a faint sound of pen scratching on paper. “So tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Lunch?”

Another pleasant surprise. “Sure,” he accepted, delighted. “Sounds great.”

“Good, good. I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

Baz hung up. Chiro set aside his phone and sat back, thoughts now turned to tomorrow’s meeting. It made him feel vaguely touched, and giddy in a way that made him feel like a favorite child. Baz had gone out of his way to set this meeting, like the first lunch. There had been no need for it but he’d gone and done it, anyway, as if it was the most natural thing to do. He decided he was a good friend to have and wondered if all his friends thought this way of his generosity.

And if it was true that he was a gangster? Well then, so what? That was his business. If it came with free lunch, then he could be the leader of all triads for all he cared.

⚭

Spine straight, shoulders low, chest open. In his years of being a Tai Chi practitioner, these were reminders Chiro no longer needed to tell himself as he swept his arm smoothly, freely in the air and somehow transferred the movement to his bending knees without a hitch, even with the bruise. Tai Chi, to him, was no longer even just automatic or mechanical. It was so ingrained in him, it felt like he’d molded his very bones and muscles to move only in the forms of Tai Chi no matter what he did. Eating, bathing, sleeping…it was an exaggeration but a proper one.

That Baz’s mere presence in a handsome dark suit could put a chip to his rhythm was more than a little bit unnerving. It was like walking in a shoe that was too tight in one foot, the pinky toe was starting to blister. You could still do it, you could still walk without limping, but you were still acutely aware of the pain, bothersome and ever-present. This had never happened to him before. In the past, he’d led classes bigger than the ones he managed these days and he’d never had any trouble with them at all.

This had never happened to him before.

⚭

A full house, the noise of conversation and cutlery a steady wall of sound, with budget meals that could fit everyone’s wallet and fill their stomachs. As it turned out, Baz’s taste was none other than Cafe de Coral.

It was strangely encouraging to watch the wealthy businessman shrug off his stylish blazer to resemble the Baz that he first knew: a plain black shirt, some nice jeans and a pair of sneakers.

“I’m so hungry,” he groaned, picking up his chopsticks as he inspected the roasted duck cutlets looking glorious on a bed of rice. He looked up to his guest. “Is this fine with you?”

It was very fine with Chiro. Compared to some deconstructed version of some old time favorites like the one that expensive restaurant had served, a bowl of char siu pork and rice suited him much better. He felt very comfortable. And he also felt very hungry.

“Dig in,” Baz invited and didn’t wait to do the same.

A few seconds of respectful silence were accorded to the food and their empty bellies, almost like a prayer before the meal but in something of a reverse.

Chiro was the first to break it, pausing for a sip of cold tea which gave him a great vantage point of his host demolishing his lunch with shrewd diligence. “So how bad was it?” he asked seemingly out of the blue. He indicated Baz’s half-finished food when the man had cast him a curious look. “The food from that restaurant near the hospital. You ate like girl on her first date.”

Baz snorted. His rhythm broken, he suddenly slowed down. “I told you, it just wasn’t my taste.” It was a diplomatic response, he supposed. He realized too late that it would be difficult for his host to admit that he had taken him to a restaurant with poor taste. “I grew up eating this stuff.”

“So we really are birds of the same feather,” Chiro observed happily. “Now you know that if you want to impress me, you don’t have to look far.”

Baz almost choked on his duck meat and gulped down a mouthful of coke. “Is this how you are with all your friends?” he asked as soon as he was able.

“Only to the ones who keep buying me free lunch.” Chiro grinned.

Baz eyed his grin before he returned to his meal. “Consider it my thanks for what you do for the children. Cindy told me you were leaving soon.”

That he was. Suddenly Chiro counted all the free food he was going to miss. As if they really were part and parcel of his employment.

“Is it the pay?”

“No, I umm…” Chiro picked on his food a bit. “I’ve got other plans.”

“You moving?”

How could he tell this total stranger that he was going blind and he needed to take care of himself? Well, what the hell. Chiro decided to humor him. “Traveling,” he said, smiling.

“Oh?” In went a whole piece of duck, bones and all. Chiro was impressed. Baz chewed with his whole mouth as he asked, “Where to?” before his eyes fell back to his bowl.

The answer was easy, of course, even if Chiro hadn’t really been thinking about it these days. Since his diagnosis, he’d learned to be realistic about his expectations but, he supposed, as with childhood dreams, it never really went away. He might have sounded a bit dreamy when he said, “Monument Valley.”

Baz stopped mid-chomp to look up to him, half-gaping. Chiro prepared himself to explain but the man interrupted him. “In Utah?”

Chiro was surprised. “You know it?”

“The sandstone buttes.”

“Exactly,” he said, sitting back a little. Furrowed brows over glasses looked straight into round nearly blind eyes. “There’s not many here who know that place.”

“My thoughts exactly.” In a surprising twist of events, Baz had put down his deep spoon to wrap one hand over the other, just under his chin. He’d stopped eating just to ask him, “When are you going? Where are you staying?” The questions came quickly, one after the other.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Chiro responded in a shock. He hoped he didn’t come out sharp and defensive, he hadn’t expected Baz to be all that interested about it. “Maybe the summer,” he said, picking up some stray details from what little of his old plans he could remember. “But I haven’t looked for lodging yet. I might just look at Airbnb.” Hoping to escape Baz’s full attention like a liar caught red-handed, he started to eat again.

Baz did not. “How long are you planning to stay?”

Chiro sighed, gazing upwards to think. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, “a week? Have you ever been?”

Baz shook his head. “I was just curious. Like you said, it’s not a place everyone wants to visit.”

“The way you’re asking these questions, I’m no longer surprised,” Chiro said, flushing with relief at the end of the sudden interrogation. He gestured to Baz with his glass of tea. “You sound like you own the place.”

“No, I didn’t mean to make it sound like…hey now, are you cracking jokes again?”

Back in his element, Chiro grinned. Baz groaned and rolled his eyes. Chiro laughed. The poor thing probably couldn’t tell a trick if it stared at him in the face! “Well, when I was a kid,” he said all of a sudden, as if to console a sulking child, “Indiana Jones was my favorite. Ever since, I’ve always wanted to go to those kinds of places. Sometimes I think it’s a little silly.” He shrugged. “But some things just never leave you.”

Baz’s face carried the softness of a smile when he nodded. He straightened up suddenly to search for his glass of coke. “I’ve never told this to anyone,” he picked it up to sip, “but I’m still obsessed about those martial arts films. I’m not just talking Hollywood action films, I’m talking,” he spread his hands sideways, like he was holding a giant egg, “proper martial arts films. Bruce Lee. Jet Li. You know the stuff. That’s because when I was young, I wanted to be a shaolin monk.”

“No, really!” Chiro laughed, shifting a little in his seat to look closer at Baz who nodded sagely. “But what happened?”

“Well, my parents didn’t give their blessings,” Baz said, leaning back. “So now,” he patted the top of his thin hair, “I just look like one.”

“But you’ve never learned?” Chiro shrugged. “I mean any kind of martial arts?”

“I tried but,” Baz shrugged, “I guess it’s just not for me. I had no time for it, and I was too old.”

“Sounds familiar.” Chiro grinned. “I wanted to learn how to shoot a gun because of Indiana Jones but I never got to it.”

“I could teach you.”

His brows flew. “You could? You know how to shoot a gun?”

“I have a license, if that bothers you.”

It wasn’t supposed to, he should be anything he wanted to be. But suddenly, Chiro was glad that they’d chosen this noisy place for lunch, where no one would be too interested to listen into a conversation between two middle-aged men.

Baz was still watching him, waiting for a response. His eyes looked as soft as Chiro remembered it. Just then, he noticed a scar on Baz’s left cheek.

He remembered the picture of the man carrying a boy, soaked through and through.

The smile was slow to come, but it was his defense now. Baz’s brows rose slightly, like he was expecting to be surprised. Chiro hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. “Are you recruiting me?” He looked a lot more amused than he intended.

Those brows fell again in a confused knot. “I wasn’t…trying to recruit you for anything,” he said after a stunned silence. “Am I missing something?”

“No, it’s…” Chiro sighed, eyes falling to his half-finished food. How should he say this? It shouldn’t have to matter but he felt a keen impulse to apologize when he confessed, “I’d been reading the news.”

Those eyes were still painted by uncertainty but the penny dropped soon enough. “Oh,” Baz said suddenly, throwing his hands up, falling back. “Oh that one? Yeah, that was just one time,” he said.

“I’m just clearing the air,” Chiro explained quickly before things got out of hand.

“That’s okay, it was just a matter of time,” Baz sighed, shifting forward again, clearing his throat. “I guess it gives off that image, doesn’t it? Well, if I truly were a gangster, would you stop seeing me if I asked?” He looked at Chiro, straight in the eyes, brows raised, lips drawn to a line.

It gave Chiro the impression of a cornered animal, ready to spring. He didn’t mean to put him on his toes, and now he truly felt sorry. He didn’t know if he ought to apologize, though. Baz didn’t sound like he was looking for sympathy.

Actually, he didn’t know what Baz was looking for anymore. A challenge? He looked like he was daring him to go on at his own risk. Or maybe he was just reading too much into it?

He felt uneasy. He was at a loss. Things had gone cold and sour all of a sudden when they were already sharing childhood stories like friends. Smirking a little, Chiro tried to repair the damage, anyway. “Would you kill me if I did?”

That joke fell flat. “Depends if you’re trading me for my enemies,” Baz said smartly.

For the first time, Chiro didn’t know what he could say. He’d ruined a good thing, and there was nothing he can say to deny that.

He was a stubborn fool, though. So he tried again. “Then I’ll keep coming when you call.” He even put in a smile for good measure.

Baz smiled back. But then, he’d said, “Let’s eat. Food’s getting cold.” And Chiro knew that the connection between them had snapped completely.

⚭

Had he offended him? He couldn’t believe it.

He’d been stumped it since he and Baz had parted ways, Baz getting on his car, him walking to the MTR station. Easy enough to say that Baz had cared what he thought of him but why should he? They weren’t…

Well, they were friends. Of a sort. They were employer and employee, they were lunch buddies. Maybe.

Did Baz have friends? It was a thought that occurred to him suddenly, lying down in bed, staring at the dark. Mobius’ curled form was pressed up next to him, breathing but unmoving even with the hand idly scratching his back. The distinction between friends…from the business and…well, perhaps the “realer” sort seemed to be important to Baz. He’d never told his childhood dream to anyone but him. At the time Baz had said that to him, he hadn’t given that admission much thought, being too thrilled by what was shared. Now those words echoed back to him with meaning, and he was shocked that he hadn’t noticed it at first.

Why him, though? Was Baz concerned that he might have truly felt silly about his own boyhood tale? That was the only thing he could think of. Baz couldn’t believe that they were truly birds of a feather, could he? He wasn’t naive, he couldn’t be. If he really were a gangster…

But if he wasn’t…

Well, what did that change? The fact of the matter was that he couldn’t stay silent about this. If he had offended Baz, then it was up to him to do something about it. He sat up on his bed and reached for his phone to call the man.

It rang endlessly. Now Chiro wondered if Baz was refusing to answer his phone after his carelessness. For the first time, he felt irritated at himself. Why did it matter to him if Baz was a gangster? Was it because of the scar? The picture? Could he not believe that a man could both be kind and a gangster? He remembered the way he’d looked at him. That cornered animal.

The ringing stopped. “Chiro? Chiro, is everything okay?”

Chiro froze. Why had he called again? He swallowed. “Umm…hi. Everything’s okay…sorry, are you busy? Should I call another time?”

There was a long pause. “Chiro, do you know what time it is?”

He didn’t. He’d packed away his desk clock because he didn’t want to trip on its wire while he was busy redecorating. He was yet to buy a new one that would suit him in the future.

“It’s 2 am.”

Well, that would probably explain why he was under a blanket.

“I have to be in the airport in three hours.”

“Oh,” Chiro said. He didn’t know what else to add. “Umm…so I guess…business is doing great?”

Another pause. “In a manner of speaking.”

Chiro chewed his lip.

On the other line, Baz sighed. “Chiro, is everything okay?”

With nothing better to do, he smiled in the darkness. “I called because I thought we could meet again for lunch on Friday. My treat this time. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your generosity.”

“You know I don’t.” He sighed again. “But I’ll still be in Sydney on Friday. I fly back on Saturday.”

“Next?”

“This one that’s coming.”

Chiro thought quickly.

“Maybe we could—”

“How about coffee, then? My treat. You can pay in souvenirs.”

“Which part of that statement is your treat?”

“The part where I buy us coffee!”

“While I pay you with a koala keychain. It’s the same thing!”

“It doesn’t have to be a koala keychain, it can be kangaroo jerky.”

“Are you serious?”

By now, Chiro was grinning widely. “I used to like to mix them in my congee. It would be good to have some for breakfast again.”

“That’s disgusting,” Baz said. “Anything else?”

“Throw in a koala keychain while you’re at it.” Baz groaned. Chiro laughed. “So we’re set, then? Maybe 3 pm? Will you be coming to the hospital?”

“I can meet you there.”

“Then I’ll let my fans know there’ll be no autograph signing on Saturday.”

“You have a strange hobby, Chiro.”

Chiro’s cheeks were hurting now. “Okay, I’ll see you on Saturday, then. Goodnight, Baz. Don’t stay up too late, you have to be in the airport in three hours.”

“You’re telling me?” Baz sounded incredulous. “Actually, don’t answer that. I’m going to hang up now before you say anything else. Don’t call me in three hours. Goodnight.”

Chiro didn’t say anything, as the man had asked. The call ended.

He set his alarm to three hours before he laid back down his pillow and tucked himself in. Baz warned him not to call in three hours but he didn’t say anything about literally giving him a wake up call after. He just wanted to be helpful! Baz should just think he was making up for calling him late by making sure he made it to his flight on time.

He felt giddy and mischievous, and proud of himself which were not exactly qualities of a man who’d called to ask for forgiveness. In fact, he hadn’t even bothered to try at all but they were meeting for coffee now. Nothing had been ruined.

As it turns out, he really was just reading too much into Baz’s reactions. What a fool he was…

⚭

It was exciting, at first, to have found a new friend, a new unlikely friend, whose constant company gave him something to look forward to when so many things had since lost a bit of their luster. Baz always came—when he could—to watch his Tai Chi classes, afterwhich they always went for lunch and when Baz’s time permitted it, afternoon tea, because they hadn’t run out of things to talk about yet. Otherwise, he spent his days at home, memorizing blind routes and cleaning up, paving ways for a safe sightless future. Some days, he also went around, seeing the sights, a tourist in his own city and country.

And then that stopped. All it took was a matter of weeks, just as his doctor had said. Finally, he had reached a point where it was dangerous to be away from his usual routes on his own.

It was harder, then, to wake up every morning with the same optimism and fighting spirit he had once borne. There were so little things to motivate him these days. He knew he still had so many to be thankful for, but he could only remember so little of them now.

With a happy, half-hysterical, half-maddening tone, his phone suddenly rang, somewhere in the blurred sea of his vision. “Baz calling,” his phone said. “Baz calling.” Staring up the ceiling, he imagined that beautiful photo of his flashing on his screen, that one of Baz raising a dumpling to his face like a smile.

He could remember so little, but at least he remembered some of them. “Answer,” Chiro commanded, smiling when his friend’s voice came on.

“Oi, Chiro, get up! You’ll be late for work. Keep away from your fans, we’ve got lunch after.”

“You’re going to make me lose them, Manager.” Chiro grinned.

“Lose your fans or lose your lunch. Either way, it’s your choice,” Baz grumbled and hung up.

Many days, it felt like he only ever got up for Baz anymore. But he still wouldn’t tell him how long he’d lain awake, contemplating a sick call, feeling completely sapped out of his will to try.

He still hadn’t told Baz that he would soon be hopelessly blind.

⚭

That all faded like the morning mist as he and the man had met after the morning class. These were the times when Baz’s presence was enough to remind Chiro that the future would not be as dreadful as it seemed and that life would find a way to help him get by. But then there were others where it just didn’t work that way either.

Sadly, this turned out to be one of them, the discouragement shaped as Baz scrolling furiously down his phone, his lunch half-eaten and then ignored completely.

Chiro gestured to it. “Are you going to finish that?”

Baz first turned to him with a slightly surprised look, and then followed his inquiry to the path of his food and scowled. “Of course I am,” he said and pointedly picked up his chopsticks for a demonstration. “You’ve used up your free lunch stub, try again on Friday.”

Chiro beamed. “So our friendship does come with a price,” he said—and instantly regretted it. Baz didn’t appear to have noticed but he knew better than to depend completely on the man’s appearances. He had a tendency to remember so much more than Chiro thought, even leaving him reminders in his voice inbox, in a sad bid to be as annoying as Chiro was with his wake up and bedtime calls.

His face fell. He looked slightly embarrassed. Maybe this was just one of those things that could not be fixed by humor. Thankfully, the measure of his friendship did not solely rely on his capability to make jokes.

He put down his spoon and asked carefully, “How bad is it?”

“Not so bad,” Baz said quickly, shaking his head before there was any cause for Chiro to worry. He squared his shoulders. “This time it’s not so bad. It’s not as bad as the first.”

They spoke in vagueness, but it was clear in their minds what they were speaking of: Baz’s latest headline. Another brush with the triad. They’d never spoken of it explicitly since the first time it came up but it was always there,hovering in the sidelines, a tender punchline in a joke. Chiro was always careful, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

Like now. “So they aren’t asking for your head yet?” he jested familiarly. Baz gave him a small smile, which was more than he could hope for. In truth, he never actually knew much about the real situation, more than what he’d Googled at first. He only assumed that maybe there was a debt, some unfinished business and these headlines served as a constant reminder for Baz that he hadn’t quite escaped his fate yet.

It was easy to conceive these ideas so nonchalantly, but when Chiro began to think seriously about them, he had to worry.

“It’s a press nightmare. That’s all it is,” Baz said dismissively. He put down his phone and turned it over, face down. “It’s a headache that I’m sick of.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Do? Nothing. You just,” Baz waved a fly over his head, “you just wait for them to forget about it.”

“That’s it?” Chiro frowned. “So you’ll just let it keep coming back to you like a nightmare. Like flu.” He couldn’t imagine it.

“I say anything about it, it’s only going to blow up in my face.” Baz raised a brow. “The only time this is going to end is if I die.”

“Baz.”

Baz blinked and furrowed his brows, a little perplexed at Chiro’s tense response.

In all aspects, it was probably an overreaction. One didn’t need to be as old as he to know how the public worked, how the media liked to play them. How much worth these stories had, how much people loved this stuff—a good Samaritan with a shady past. He couldn’t bare the thought of a dim future without his friend, though. No Baz to watch his class, no Baz to talk with over lunch and coffee. He was already losing his eyes, he didn’t want to lose more than that. But because of that, what Baz had said to him had surpassed the boundaries of common sense. It was tempting fate now.

He didn’t want to explain all that, of course, and it was inappropriate besides. Baz was an adult, he could look after himself without someone hawking behind his back. He had no excuses for how he felt either.

He stood up just then, a little abruptly. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Hey, careful, you nearly hit someone there.”

He couldn’t tell if Baz was joking about that or not. He couldn’t see to be sure. He smiled for what it’s worth and turned, walking fast.

He didn’t see the young lady coming swiftly from his side. Didn’t see the tray of tea, milk tea and soft drinks she was carrying until he felt cold water splashing down his side. His elbow rang when it hit the tray. The chorus of plastic glasses falling to the floor felt like a siren in his head.

He froze, looking at the gaping woman, aghast. He didn’t see her coming. He hadn’t seen her coming. His drenched shirt and jeans felt cold against his skin.

It’s happened. He’d caused an accident.

“Uh…uncle, I’m sorry!”

“I’m sorry,” Chiro hurried to correct her, reaching for the tray of debris she still carried uncertainly. The restaurant felt too quiet for him. She looked like a high school student, intimidated perhaps by his age. The poor thing, it wasn’t her fault. “Are you okay?”

All his efforts to set her at ease were dashed when a chair groaned and whined against the floor and cutlery jumped, like someone had banged their legs too hard on the underside of the table, racing to stand. Chiro looked warily at Baz on his feet, stunned and staring.

Of course, Baz had seen it all.

⚭

“There’s no need for you to drive me home, I can take the train.”

“You’re crazy if you think you can ride the MTR looking like that. Get in, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

That was how Chiro found himself riding beside his friend, strapped in in spite of his protests (“I’ve got tea all over me, I’m only going to ruin your seat.” “Do you know how to put on a seat belt or do I have to do it myself?”), cruising down roads as if there was a hospital emergency. He felt severely conscious in his wet shirt and pants and somehow, that convinced him that it was much better to watch the city zip past and ignore his gracious driver. Baz didn’t listen to music. His car smelt vaguely of a floral incense and hummed quietly.

A pendant of a bird with wings that met at the tips, forming a full circle, dangled from his rear-view mirror.

⚭

“Make yourself at home. I’ll just change quickly.”

Chiro felt like he was moving in a way that would get him away from his sudden guest as fast as he could. He’d left the door open and the keys in the knob so that Baz had to be the one to close it after him and find his way around the plain apartment room. There was not much to see in it anymore: his kitchen utensils were neatly laid out on the kitchenette’s counter with a striking absence of knives because he didn’t want to hurt himself—and that was all of them. His dining set, round though his table was, had been pushed off to a corner where he would not bang himself against it. As for the living room, all its shelves had already been hollowed out, its contents moved to open boxes beside the couch and the TV set, all pushed up to the wall, leaving a clean space smack dab in the middle.

“So when did you decide to move?” Baz asked conversationally while Chiro was inside his bedroom, changing clothes in a hurry. Mobius was there, crouching under his bed, ears alert, hiding from the rare visitor. He grinned at the poor cat and pressed a finger to his lips. And then he heard the shift of boxes and the clack of plastic frames. In a panic, he stumbled out, neglecting to put on his slippers.

“Just redecorating,” he spat out. He found Baz sitting on his couch, rummaging through his stuff. Two photo frames had been set aside next to him while another one was pinned in one hand. He couldn’t see it clearly anymore but he knew it was one of the shots he’d taken of Petra, so many years back.

His guest straightened up, inspecting another picture. “You took these?”

“Most of them,” Chiro admitted, padding quietly in his socks to sit near his friend. Baz bent to pick another frame from the depths of the box between his feet. He saw they were both of Uluru.

“They look great,” Baz said, sitting back. “You should put them where the morning sun hits first.”

Chiro shrugged. “Too bad I don’t have many windows.” A heartbeat later, he confessed quietly, “Actually, I’m packing them away.”

Baz put down the pictures. He turned to Chiro with his brows curled again. “How come?” he asked. “These are good pictures,” he said again, even showing him one to prove his point.

Chiro smiled, all teeth. “If you want them so much, keep them. I don’t mind.” It was a sudden decision but a surprisingly easy one. He really didn’t mind. It was a better prospect than leaving them in a locker storage and forgetting all about them. Maybe forever. Besides, what would Baz do with them, sell them to scammers?

Baz considered his offer. Bending a little, he sorted through the many framed memories stacked neatly in the box. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He straightened up again and looked at Uluru, then Petra.

“Well then,” showing both pictures to their photographer, Baz said, “Don’t mind if I do.”

⚭

Baz picked five, then a dozen.

He went home that day with boxes full of photographs and books.

That night, Chiro explored his barren apartment with his cat weaving around his legs, feeling its emptiness. Not for the first and the last time, he observed that this was going to be his future. Hollow. Nothing to see.

“Well, Mobius, this is it,” he told the cat quietly, running his big toe down his spine. “Our future. Just you and me and an empty house.”

⚭

The next evening, Baz called.

“Are you busy?” he asked, voice rough.

That put Chiro on his toes in an instant, the hairs at the back of his neck rising. In the silence of his living room, Baz may as well have echoed. “I’m not,” he answered instantly. He was studying braille, one of those DIY kits he found on a bargain. “Baz, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come out? Can we go out?”

“Can you come and pick me up?”

He could. Ten minutes. Chiro started to get dressed.

He could not explain the relief that washed over him when he saw his friend again behind the steering wheel. Maybe he looked different. Hollow-eyed, pale-faced but in the dark and with his eyes, Chiro couldn’t see properly. And he refused to let his imaginations take control of him, not when hysteria would only be the likely cause so he decided to take faith, and believe only what he saw: Baz looked fine. And that was that.

“You hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m fine.”

Baz didn’t argue.

They drove in silence, weaving in and out of major traffic, no aim in sight except to drive and keep driving. Eventually, Baz pulled up at Nathan Road. They got off and started to walk.

Still no end in sight. Overhead, the giant neon lights blazed in the darkness and Jordan Road’s weekend crowd swallowed them whole. Chiro began to panic. He hadn’t been out here this late since his last visit with the doctor. His eyes couldn’t adjust, he couldn’t cope.

When he started to lose Baz, he called him, half-frightened. Baz stopped and waited for him to catch up, then walked on.

They went up and down sidewalks, narrow streets, crossing with the masses and then peeling away. Chiro watched his friend walking next to him when he could, saw his chin raised and his shoulders squared, his hands tucked in his camel coat as if he hadn’t just ordered an impromptu excursion for his own sanity. Baz tried to match his pace but whatever was driving him around the city late in the evening, it often propelled him forward and left Chiro lagging. He would call his name again and Baz would stop and wait. Then they would walk again.

They must have been at it for an hour. Just walking, looking, listening. Baz didn’t speak and neither did Chiro. He knew the man had always been the quiet sort, he observed that he preferred to listen when there was no need to talk.

He made a decision to wait for his cue. Then he would talk.

They stopped by a McDonald’s for a hamburger break then proceeded to walk again. Not long after, Baz stopped to brace his weight against a sidewalk barrier, bending low to get comfortable. Chiro imitated him. It was by no means an empty road. Pedestrians and vehicles passed them front and back, splashed with lights. But they were left alone—and that was good enough.

“You know, I should have apologized for yesterday,” Baz began all of a sudden, scanning the moving traffic. “You wouldn’t have reacted that way if it hadn’t been for what I’d said.”

At any other time, Chiro might have made a quip. This time, he understood that Baz wasn’t looking for a conversation. He needed a companion, an ear to listen to him. He needed to talk, without anyone stopping him.

“It’s not that I don’t care about the headline, I do want to do something about it.” Baz turned to face him. “But I can’t. It’s not just the media, you see. Even if I escape them, I’ll never be able to escape the triad. They won’t let me.”

So was he right all along? Baz had a debt?

Baz shifted closer to him. “You know I grew up in a poor family. We lived in a caged home once.” His voice was low. “And when I was young, all I could think about was getting rich. So that my parents and I don’t have to keep starving and we don’t have to keep moving because we kept being sent away. Because we couldn’t pay, because we had no money.”

Chiro never realized that Baz had started that way. He’d only assumed that the man had the means right from the start.

“And now. Finally, I’m here. But I can’t stop,” he hissed, muttered. “I can’t stop. And it isn’t because I’ve become a prisoner of my own vocation, it’s not that.” Baz shook his head. “But it’s like something’s missing. See, when I was starting out, I thought that when I’ve brought us out of poverty, my life will be complete. But it wasn’t enough. So I looked for others. I looked for the poor, the hungry, the sick, the homeless…the ones like me and my parents…”

It was like the admission of his secret had drained him. He hid his eyes behind his hand, and it carried the weight of his burden, his weariness. “Not enough,” Baz sighed. “Still not enough. It’s almost like,” he crossed his arms on the barrier and looked out to the rolling cars, “I’m looking for one thing, or one person. One kind of thing or person. It’s like a debt I owe that hurts me because I don’t know how to pay it. And all this,” he waved his hand around, “is just meaningless exercise. A preparation gone too long. A distraction, a sorry excuse to convince myself I’m doing something.”

But he shook his head, and like a dagger, he jabbed himself in the middle of his chest with his fingers. “Still hollow. And I don’t even know if that person, that thing exists. I don’t know what I’m looking for, Chiro,” he turned to face his friend again. “But I can’t stop. That’s why I can’t stop.”

He’d never heard Baz sound so lost. Desperate. He couldn’t say he knew what it felt like, to be looking for something you don’t even know, but he could sympathize that it was difficult. Frustrating. He wondered if that would be his life once his eyes had gone. At least he and Baz could be in the same boat, then. And Baz would no longer have to be alone, even if he couldn’t fill the gap.

“So the triad…” Chiro began slowly. This was the first time he was going to speak of it again in the entire history of their relationship. “Did you…”

“I needed money to start out,” Baz answered. “Bad decisions made on bad days. I’d found a loan shark. It was tough but I managed to pay everything plus the interest a few years later. Now they’re just harassing me, because they know I won’t fight back. I’d let them bully me all this time but all I can think about is surviving and keeping my skin attached to my back so I pulled through. All for that one person I’m looking for. That one thing.”

How was it like to make all these sacrifices for someone, something that didn’t exist outside of your gut? Were they even real? It was an amazing show of faith, to have lived all his life for a purpose that felt so temporary, but it was also desperate.

And if he never found them? If their non-existence was proven, what would happen? He didn’t want to see Baz come crashing down, burning like a falling star. He wouldn’t be able to live through that, and it would break Chiro, too. He didn’t realize how much he’d come to rely on Baz’s constance to see him through his own challenges. He had to keep him strong, he wanted him to be strong for himself.

Could he be that person he was looking for? It was a funny thought but not unreasonable. If that person didn’t exist, they could create it for Baz. It could be him.

How to put it? Bolstered by this, he reached slowly for Baz’s closest hand. He wanted to hold it, to tell him that his search was over. It was him. It could be him.

Could be. And if it wasn’t him? If that person, that thing existed somewhere in the galaxy, could he truly replace them? He wouldn’t have the heart. Didn’t.

He would help him look—for Baz’s sake as much as his own. He pulled back at the last minute and laid his hand onto his friend’s shoulder. A safe gesture. Baz didn’t look but he responded with his own hand and gripped him firmly. His hand was warm.

They returned to silent companionship.

⚭

“Ah, I remember where I parked it! This way, I know a shortcut.”

The silence this time was full, but not heavy. The city had thinned out and many of the lights that used to glow had now been doused. Chiro felt relieved. He could follow Baz more easily now.

Even being a pace or two behind him, he didn’t worry. The man constantly called to him to walk this way, turn there, and he followed obediently. Easily. He was a tourist in his own city again, hands deep within his gray cardigan. “I’ll be right behind you,” he assured him, smiling.

And then he wasn’t. He’d turned once, and met an endless, empty road ahead of him with no Baz in sight.

Panic felt like a cold bucket of water running down his spine, his chest and his belly, as he stared out at the darkness of an unfamiliar street, with unfamiliar cars and unfamiliar signs. “Baz?” he called out but no one came hurrying to pick him up and lead him right.

He looked back the way he came, took the corner, but couldn’t recognize the lighted road he came upon. He turned to the opposite way but could only make out the dark shapes of late night strangers.

He’d turned the wrong way. That was the only possibility. Years of practicing Tai Chi had helped him recover the rhythm of his breath and he started to think properly. No matter. This was his city. He couldn’t be lost in it.

He turned again to the dark street and started walking to the next corner. The sound of traffic growled past at the other end and that encouraged him. He moved carefully, keeping his eyes down to his feet, watching his steps. He wished he had a stick to help him scan the ground before he had to put his foot forward.

And then he didn’t. A bright yellow light splashed across the asphalt and he could see better. He sighed in relief—and then it became too much. He shut his eyes, but the blare of a horn forced him to look.

He whirled to see the speeding headlights. They flashed and blinded. He twisted away, raising his hands to protect himself. The car screeched.

And then it hit him. It crashed to his side and he flew. The splash of gravel, the smell of burning air. He tasted it in his mouth, and his blood. He heard shouting, screaming. Voices fading…

⚭

When he came to, Baz was shaking him and calling his name. He started with a gasp and lashed out a hand to grab his sleeve. Chiro stared up at him with wild eyes.

“Are you okay?” Baz repeated, hoarse. “Chiro, are you okay?!”

The night was dark and quiet. The air smelled of the brisk weather, sharp and clean. He flicked his tongue across his lips and tasted nothing. He could move in spite of the bulk draped over him.

“You almost got run over by a car,” Baz sighed heavily. He heard the weariness, the weight in his breath. And the tears. “Chiro, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he croaked, raising a hand to wipe Baz’s cheek dry. He noticed then that the man was lifting him off the cold ground, and it was his mass that was laid on top of him. He felt warm in the embrace. “I’m okay,” he reassured him.

Baz smiled, almost to the point of laughing, and he grinned back.

⚭

Baz had saved him. He’d jumped out of the corner from the back and shoved him down while the car skidded off and missed. Chiro had fainted for a few minutes.

He’d come so close to death because of his eyes. For one critical second, his life had been completely in the hands of Baz. If he’d been just one second slower, if he hadn’t been there at the right time…

As soon as the numbness and the initial shock had worn off, he started to shiver uncontrollably. In his mind’s eye, lights flashed like the torture of a nightmare even as he stared at his feet, at the dark. He hadn’t even noticed it when Baz draped his coat over his shoulders and led him to the car by the hand, speaking softly and always calling him by his name.

His voice. That was his tether. His only anchor to the present.

They drove smoothly down empty roads, the world a quiet place. Chiro spaced out, staring out the window but the passing street lamps, waxing and waning when they came, tormented him. He jumped at every flash of the lighted sentinels, until it became too much he had to close his eyes. In the darkness, he wished them all away.

Baz held him, and he poured all his senses to that comforting wrap of his hand. I’m here, he heard his voice say in his mind. I’m here.

⚭

“Keep the lights out,” he said. “I don’t want them.”

He left Baz to shut the door behind them while he dragged himself to the couch like a zombie, counting his steps just as he always had with his eyes closed. He sat down, moving slowly; his entire body felt bruised all over from having been thrown off and landing roughly.

“Do you want some water?” Baz asked from the kitchenette. “Tea?”

Chiro shook his head. He didn’t sound it out. He stared out at the shadows, at the vague shape of his TV set, his empty shelves, the boxes between them. He stared at the phantoms of his photo frames where they’d used to surround him. His old life.

He felt the couch sinking carefully beside him, felt Baz’s body heat. He turned over his hand expectantly between them and it was taken and held. He wrapped his fingers around the other man’s in return. Grateful.

“Do you have to go? Can you stay the night?” he asked, seeing nothing. “The truth is that I’m slowly going blind. And I don’t trust myself to be alone tonight.”

Now it was his turn to speak without want of a response.

“The doctor gave me six months. Now it’s just three. Or two. Or less,” he rambled on. “If I hadn’t been half-blind, I would have seen the car coming, I would have known where you’d turned. But this is my life now.” He closed his eyes. “There might come a time when I won’t be so lucky anymore.”

⚭

He didn’t remember how he made it to bed. Baz must have helped him. He’d fallen asleep in last night’s clothes.

He heard the sound of plastic rustling before he woke up. Mobius made a meow from the kitchen, and a man answered him, “These aren’t for you. Are you even allowed leftovers?”

“Baz?” Chiro asked, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t help but notice how little he saw of it now.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Baz called back. “Your cat is here, being a bother. Hey no, not yours.” Mobius issued a meow of complaint.

Chiro’s face split open with a toothy smile.

“Stay where you are. I’ll come and get you. No, Cat! Get…!”

He tracked Baz’s progress by the sound of paper boxes hitting the table, bowls and other cutlery, Mobius mewling and once, his panicked yelp and his cat’s victorious cry. Chiro laughed.

Baz arrived after five minutes, inviting him up with a, “Come,” and two hands out. “Careful,” he reminded him.

“I’m only half-blind, Baz. I can still see,” Chiro replied but the man’s concern touched him, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling as he took his hands and let the man pull him up.

He’d bought dim sum for breakfast, from the Wellcome mart nearby. Baz was also still dressed in last night’s clothes but somehow, Chiro thought he looked much fresher than he had any right to be, after putting his neck in the line for someone else’s.

“I thought about making breakfast but then I noticed one thing,” Baz began as soon as they’d sat down and started to eat.

Chiro ate with pleasure, and in silence, waiting for the observation.

“You don’t have any knives.”

“What’s a blind man need knives for?” he asked cheerfully.

“To cut things with! Or you could use it against burglars.”

“I have a cat for that.”

“Your cat will be turned to char siu bao before he can bite them,” Baz groaned, shaking his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Come live with me.”

Down went the siumai that was once nestled comfortably between Chiro’s chopsticks, tumbling down the table, rolling down his pants, down to his foot where Mobius was ready to pounce on it. He ran away with his treasure. Neither man knew if cats were allowed to eat siumai but neither of them could be bothered to check just now.

“Say what again?” he pursued, cautiously.

“Move in with me,” Baz said, and he looked serious. Straight in his eyes. “I’ve thought about it.” And he started ticking off his reasons with his fingers, “You’re almost blind, you live alone, and you don’t even have knives.” He leaned back against his seat, crossing his arms. “I have a chef that comes in every day and I hire an agency to keep my house clean.”

“Where do you live, Macau? In a casino?” Chiro stared at him. “Or is that your house in Disneyland? Is that where you keep all your mistresses?” It was a subtle jab on his now-confirmed gang connections.

Baz raised a brow. “I live in Ocean Park,” he said nonchalantly.

Chiro’s laughter burst out in a painful spurt through his nose before it opened up to a full-blown glee. He fell back to his own chair, curling at the pain on his side from where he’d landed last night, but damn if he stopped laughing just for that. “No shit?” he gasped after, sighing, in tears.

“No shit. Dolphins keep the burglars away from my house.”

Chiro laughed again but by now, he was too sapped from the first quip to keep it going for long. So then he sat like a melted puddle, catching his breath with blissful sighs. “Ah, it feels good to laugh, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. He turned his head ever so slightly to his friend who began to eat again. “Why should I live with you?”

“Are you deaf? I thought you were just blind.” Baz slurped in a mouthful of golden jellyfish.

“No, why should I live with you?” Chiro straightened up, looking closely at his chewing friend. “Why invite me? You don’t have to do this.” He didn’t have to.

But Baz did. And he thought there was a sadness in his eyes, a pensive look about him, when he’d put down his bowl and chopsticks to mull the question. “Because,” he began, “what happened last night,” he looked at Chiro, “was the scariest thing that ever happened in my life. And I don’t want it to happen again, not if I can help it. You can’t imagine…what I was thinking. When you wouldn’t answer me.”

He remembered the tears in his voice, his damp cheek. He remembered his warm hand and his comforting weight. I’m here, he’d said. I’m here.

“Come live with me,” Baz repeated softly. “Please,” he added.

It was not a terrible proposal. In fact, there was nothing bad in it at all. He would have someone to keep an eye on him, he would have company other than his cat. He would have dolphins instead of empty walls, warm, home-cooked meals instead of store-bought ones he’d have to heat in the microwave.

He would have Baz.

It was not a terrible idea at all.

“Fine,” Chiro said, nodding. “I’ll come live with you.” Joy mixed with relief in Baz’s face. “But on three conditions.”

“What is this now?” Baz spat all of a sudden, brows frowning.

Chiro began to list them, fingers out, “One, you’ll help me find a place to donate, or sell, all my stuff to. Two, my cat comes with us.”

“Well, fine, I can live with that.”

“Three,” and here, Chiro smiled slyly, “you’ll have to beat me.”

Baz’s brow scaled the tallest building in Hong Kong. “Beat you where now?”

⚭

“Tekken?!”

“Come on! When was the last time you relived your childhood?” Chiro laughed, giddy as a boy. It had been ages since the epic opening music had spilled out of his TV set as a cast of fighters enjoyed rapid fire screen times in successive location changes. He sat on the floor next to his friend, legs crossed and back comfortably slouched. “I stopped playing after my eyes started getting bad because I thought it would help. This is the first time I’d brought this thing out of the box since. Have you ever played?”

“A little but as a child, I never had my own,” Baz shared, watching the graphics move. “By the time I could afford it, I wasn’t all that interested anymore. So what’s the catch?”

“Don’t worry, it’s simple.” Chiro grinned. “Best of five. Beat me three times and you get to take me home.”

“I didn’t mean to put it that way.”

“You’d do it anyway, wouldn’t you?” Chiro asked, winking.

Baz smirked. Facing the TV set, he said, “All right. Let’s do this!”

⚭

Baz’s mansion in Deep Water Bay was much larger than Chiro had ever managed to imagine. Cream walls, modern furnishing, a play on white and gray and polished wooden surfaces. The living room alone had as much surface area as his whole flat, overlooking a pool with a small garden and a pavilion, such that he’d only ever seen in movies.

“Where are the dolphins?” he asked.

“Off duty.” Baz grunted as the last of his belongings met the floor. “They’ll come in tomorrow.”

No servants, no one fussing over them. Chiro understood that this was how Baz liked it. To have the house all to his own, filled only with his thoughts.

Well, he belonged to it now.

“So what do you think, hm?” he asked his cat exploring the area of the fluffy carpet under the squat glass table. “It’s not so bad for your new playground, is it?” The door shut with an echo.

He heard Baz coming in and whirled to meet him. “So?” the man grunted, stretching his back. Chiro’s things had fit in four luggages and he’d been the one to carry them all in by his insistence. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Chiro coughed out a laugh. “Do I have a choice?” He started back towards his new housemate from the living room, to the rhythm of his walking stick tapping against the floor. It was a gift from Baz, a simple thing made out of burnt oak that Baz thought he ought to get used to while he could still see. “You ask me as if this is a gift to me and I’m your new wife.”

“Well, do you like it or not, anyway?” Baz shrugged. “If you don’t like it, you can go and join the other mistresses in Disneyland.”

“Other mistresses?” He grinned. Looking up to the high ceiling, he asked, “So I’m to be the only mistress here?”

“You’re the first, at least, if that bothers you so much.” Then Baz snorted. “Why are we even talking about my houses like this?”

“So you do have other houses!” Chiro cackled triumphantly, now standing close to his friend and his circle of luggages. “Maybe I’ll ask for a tour,” he said, bending low to reach for one of his luggages, “just to show off that I’m your newest favorite.”

“Are you making me regret my decision?”

“Depends if you would abide by my most important rule of all.”

Baz popped another brow.

Chiro took that as his cue. “If I’m going to be one of your mistresses,” he stood up with the luggage, bringing his face close to the owl-eyed master of the house. “I want to be the mistress,” he warned him softly.

Then broke out in a manic grin. He couldn’t help it! He didn’t remember how long it had been since he was playful, and it felt so good to be it now. To throw caution in the air, after years and months of being nothing but cautious because of his eyes. Baz looked flustered which only made him want to laugh but he moved on. Quickly. “Show me to my room.”

Baz had waited until he’d taken one step up the black stylish, twisting stairwell at the side before he said, “No, I’ll show you something else.” Chiro turned in time to see him waving him over as he moved deeper into the house. “Come on, I’ll show you to the Red Room.”

“The Red Room?” Chiro laughed. “You mean like in 50 Shades? If you’re that kind of person, you better give me a warning so I can start running.” He followed him anyway, leaving his luggage at the foot of the stairs.

“As if you’d get far,” Baz snorted, turning to him over his shoulder. “You watched that?”

“I was dating someone and she was a fan. It didn’t work out between us.”

“Hard to see why,” Baz commented blandly. “Here.”

Here was a door that stood out among its counterparts for being painted red, a tasteful burgundy shade unlike the one in Chiro’s tacky imagination. But he still snorted painfully, biting down his grin while Baz produced the key to the unlock the room.

He opened the door and held it for his permanent guest. “After you.”

“If you grab me from the back, I will cane you,” Chiro warned him, waving his walking stick at Baz’s dead-eyed expression even as he accepted the invitation. He didn’t know what he expected coming in, but it was definitely not cream walls, sunlight and an open-backed settee in the middle that was black. Not red.

He saw the picture frames all around him last. And there, he stopped in recognition. Of Petra. Wadi Rum. Uluru. Giza.

And others he’d only dreamed of visiting in the past. The Atacama Desert, Death Valley, the Grand Canyon, the Namib Desert. There were so many of them, so much sun and sand and rocks that put together, they could almost paint the walls red.

“Baz…” It was all he could say, too stunned for something cleverer as he looked around the private gallery. It was like his old flat, but so much more. Here and there, he saw pictures of a younger Baz, standing before great monuments of nature. And here and there, he saw pictures of him. The ones he’d taken during his days of traveling, surrounded himself with and eventually packed up in boxes. And later gave away to his friend with no hopes of ever seeing them again. “You…”

“I told you, they were great pictures.” Baz finally came in, hands behind his back. “Shame to throw them all away just because you won’t be able to see them soon. This one’s my favorite.” He walked over to one side of the room, finger out to point. It landed on a picture of Chiro during a sunset in Wadi Rum. In that magical hour, the golden orb had fit in nicely between his fingers.

Chiro guffawed, doubling over. “Do you know how many takes it took to get that shot?” He was beaming now. “Twelve tries! I remember it clearly. I was very insistent on it.”

“It turned out great,” Baz repeated, arms crossed. “I’m glad I saved it from you.”

“Me, too.” His honesty surprised him. There was so much more to see, so much stories to be found within the confines of cheap frames. So many of them he wanted to ask Baz right then and there.

Most of them, he found at the back of the room. Temple-like structures built atop mountains, surrounded by refreshing green space. “Tibetan monasteries,” Baz answered his unspoken question, approaching from the back. “I went on a world tour once.” He pointed at some of them. “Lhasa. Bhutan. Burma.”

“Did you find enlightenment?” Chiro asked casually, peering closely at the last one. When Baz didn’t answer, he looked over his shoulder, and found the sad smile dancing on his face. He knew then what he’d been looking for.

“You’ve been to so many places,” he observed instead, looking at others. He found another one of Baz in Uluru and just next to it, himself in the same place with a similar look about him.

Just then, it occurred to him. Touching his picture, he realized now what this red room was trying to tell him. “Baz,” Chiro began softly. “We could have met. We could have met much sooner.”

“I thought about that, too,” he said.

It was sad. They could have met much sooner but instead, they’d spent all that time as strangers. How many years had passed before they met in the hospital?

Perhaps a different person might have mourned this missed opportunity. All that lost time where they could have been together—but Chiro saw something else. Turning back to Baz, he flashed him a happy smile. “We really are birds of a feather!” he said. It was practically the best discovery he’d made that day. Smiling back, Baz nodded.

⚭

Shortly after he’d moved in, he left his job. In the past, he didn’t think it would have been an easy decision to make but he had someone to watch his back now. So there was no reason to hesitate about it anymore.

Since then, he felt like he was in a permanent vacation of sorts. Living with a rich man left him with no chores to do and all the time in the world for whatever he wanted. His first few days had been spent feeling the house, lazing around, sitting in the Red Room, playing with his cat or napping like one until Baz came home from whatever businesses needed his attention and he had someone to chat with. He learned then that his other houses were another source of income, rented out to films and Airbnb, to families at a low cost, and not to wives as they had earlier joked about.

Little by little, his days regained some form of structure. He picked up his braille again, he started to swim. He followed his old work schedule to keep up with his Tai Chi which made it easy for Baz to catch him as he used to. Sometimes, they walked around the neighborhood as they chatted.

Days passed in a blur. Chiro saw even less. He did whatever he could do with them to make up for the time that would be lost in the future. He asked Baz to take him sightseeing, he watched movies and games and other shows when he could. He read the papers, books and copied down the quotes that he liked by hand. Sometimes he cooked. Most nights, he stayed up late, watching replays TV.

“Don’t sit too close, you’ll ruin your eyes.”

Chiro grinned at Baz’s gentle warning but stayed at the foot his queen-sized bed. “Tried that. Didn’t work.” If he moved any further, that colorful curry dish bubbling on screen might look like an entirely different thing altogether, no matter if the TV was 32-inches or whatever the actual size was. Baz was watching him watch from his door, leaning comfortably against the frame.

He didn’t stop the man when he moved in and turned off the TV. “That’s boring,” Baz said and lent his hands to the smiling man. “Get dressed. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” Chiro asked, laying his hands on Baz’s open palms.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Everywhere,” he said. “You lead. I’ll follow.”

⚭

It was a much too different night time excursion than the first one when Baz laid out his heart and Chiro almost died. This time, they parked the car near Central Station where it was easy to lose themselves in the crowd and the bright lights. They talked about nothing in particular and everything they could think about. They dropped by a grocery store because Baz remembered he needed shampoo and came away with a bag of chips they passed between themselves as they walked. Later on, they washed it down with coffee from some b-grade cafe, then Chiro bought an eggette because the store smelt very good. And because he could.

He felt so free, then. Free from caution, free from worries, free from dark thoughts. He went wherever he wanted to go and Baz followed, without exception or a question asked. He felt no fear.

They stopped at the Central Elevated Walkway near the IFC Mall, the last stop for the night before they went home. Chiro was tired, but he wanted one last souvenir to remember the trip by.

He braced his weight against the barrier and peered out towards the lights across the bay, a chilly wind blowing softly. Victoria Harbour looked radiant as it always did with a million tiny stars drawing the shape of its proud skyscrapers and the ferries coming in and out of port. It sparkled unapologetically among its neighbors.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Chiro sighed, trying to take in the expanse, drink it all in. “This could be my last memory of Victoria Harbour. Can you believe that?”

Baz didn’t answer him. He stood a little apart from the near-blind man but this, to take in a different sight, a different souvenir. One that came in the form of a man in a black leather jacket, leaning towards the bay with bliss in his mind. He had the ghost of a smile playing in his lips, a man truly at peace with himself.

“Hey Chiro,” Baz called to him. “Look here.”

Chiro turned towards his friend and flashed him a happy smile. He defined contentment at that hour.

Baz started towards him, sure as a man can be. Chiro straightened up, but only so he could take the man’s face and guide him towards his waiting lips. They met in a flurry of warmth and relief. Soft. Sweet. A distinct knowledge that all was as it should be. The blissful surrender of one’s defenses, finally. Baz’s mouth tasted like victory after a long race. Heady like wine, but as slaking as cool water. He could never get enough of it.

That night, a man made love to him for the first time in his whole life. It couldn’t be more perfect than anything he could dream of.

⚭

He saw clearly, in a way that could only come from the morning glow of sex.

From Baz’s bedroom window, Deep Water Bay was spread out all around him, asleep. Quiet. Lazy, basking in the early sun. It had a sort of delicate, untouchable quality to it, the temporary paradise of a world unmarred by realistic expectations. It was picturesque. The breeze bit lightly on his bare flesh covered in last night’s sweat and passion. At once, he felt both sore and powerful.

He heard the bed stir, he listened to the sheets ruffle. Baz padded quietly to join him in his observation. “It’s beautiful,” he said, as the man wrapped his arms around him from the back and pressed a kiss first on his cheek, and then the crook of his neck. He felt his soft belly pushing behind him. Chiro never thought he could have such a desire for it, coming awake so soon after the contact. He felt those fingers tracing the muscles along his abdomen. He wanted Baz to kiss them again, the way he did on his way down between his legs.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he went on. His hands hung onto Baz’s wrists while those wanting lips tasted his shoulder, his hair, the back of his neck. “Now I’ve got access to this sight through your window.”

“Just for that?” Baz asked, even as he reached down to test his girth.

“Purely just for that,” he groaned, even as he melted against the man’s shoulders, sighing happily as he was stroked. Baz was a few inches taller than himself. Somehow, even that minuscule detail meant the world to him. He turned to face him and parted his lips, asking for a kiss.

Baz gave it to him, tender and patient, but so full. The great thing about their age, he realized then, was that they’d gone past the stage of proving their devotion for each other. Of being impatient, desperate. Pretending just to overcompensate. Stripped of so much drama, all it left them was the joy of love, and each other.

They parted after a long meeting. Chiro rested his forehead against his lover’s, nose to nose with the only man, the only person in this world he had ever come to want and need. “Tell me you’re staying,” he whispered, begging him.

His eyes closed, Baz shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he purred.

“Good,” Chiro said, looking up to him so closely and grinning. “Me neither.”

⚭

Baz had such an appetite for sex, which was not what he knew of the man whose wife divorced him—contrary to what the papers reported—for being unable to perform his duties as a husband. But what surprised him more was how much he craved the same affection, how a single touch might drive him wild if there was ever a chance it could lead to there. He’d never been so sex-crazed in his previous relationships. He’d lain with his girlfriends when they’d asked it of him, but he never left the door to the shower room open just so he could pull them in. He couldn’t say that it was uncontrollable lust, though. It felt more like two men trying to make up for lost time.

They learned about each other more deeply between sheets and each other’s legs. Baz liked it when he cried his name and when he told him where he wanted to be touched, where he wanted to be kissed. He liked it when Baz pinned him down with his weight, when Baz subdued him but he was always so careful. So gentle. It intoxicated him, the goodness of this man. He often felt like a child nagging for attention, and he never felt guilty when it came packaged in small kisses and sweet caresses. He liked to play games with Baz—his honest, genuinely good Baz.

His eyes stayed shut even as he heard Baz come into his room quietly, pretending to still be asleep just because he had nothing better to do that day than to be lazy. He was on his side, back to the visitor. Baz came close enough to brush his hair lightly with his fingers as he bent down to kiss his cheek and then his bare shoulder. And then he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to wake up, he had to see Baz before he left. He turned, reaching for his wrist. He smiled drowsily when the man, already dressed in a respectable blazer, looked back and returned to his bedside with his own soft smile. “Have a good day in the office, honey,” he mumbled daintily. He waited for a kiss on the lips.

He got a kiss from a letter that smacked him on the nose. “What!” he laughed, rising slowly. “You just hit a blind man.”

“You’re not yet blind,” Baz grumbled, handing him the laminated envelope. “I just got back. Here, this is yours.”

“Is this my bill now?” Chiro sighed as he deposited his head on Baz’s lap, wriggling and kicking until he was comfortable with his new pillow. He opened the envelope and pulled out the thick folded letter and the brochure it came with. “If I sell my eyes to the black market, how much do you think they’ll fetch me?”

“Not much since they’re way past their warranty.”

“You’re horrible, Baz,” Chiro chuckled. He started to read the first page of the letter, which was an email coming from an airline that contained the departure and arrival times of two adults from Hong Kong to Salt Lake City. The details were found in the other pages: extra baggage spaces, miles, rewards, all the little things that Chiro no longer needed to think about. Their hotel accommodations were found in the brochure with a picture of the sandstone buttes of Monument Valley in the back. Another folded letter, a printed e-mail, was found inside, with their booking information among many others.

“Oh Baz,” he said, going back through all the pages scattered around him now. “We leave tomorrow afternoon.”

“So pack light,” Baz advised him, fingers raking Chiro’s hair idly. “Just enough for maybe a week. We’ll buy the other stuff there when we arrive. I didn’t know how long you wanted to stay so I only booked us one-way tickets.” He shrugged. “What’s important to me is that we see it together. This time. And that you see it before your eyes go.”

“You’re making me cry,” Chiro sighed. He tossed the letters aside where they wouldn’t bother him while he reached up to bring Baz down to kiss him. “It’s a shame we have to start packing. I would’ve wanted to show you how much this means to me.”

Baz silenced him with a chaste kiss. “Then we better get started now.”

⚭

It was just as he expected it—and so much more. The sandstone monuments were much bigger than anything the pictures online had prepared him for. And he stood atop one of these curious sentinels to gaze at all the others around him: mesas, pillars, cliffs, ravines. In the dying sunlight of the afternoon, through his ruined eyes, they resembled an ancient city, long gone and forgotten by time. He felt awestruck and grateful.

He felt like he’d been waiting for this moment for so long, and now it was here. And it was beautiful—like all the other places he’d been to. Jordan, Egypt, Australia.

“You’ve got dirt in your eye.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been telling myself that!” Chiro laughed, taking the handkerchief from Baz to dry his eyes on. He sniffled, even as he smiled. “The last time I cried, I was in Wadi Rum. I told myself that I was excited. It was an achievement.”

“And now?”

And now, he didn’t know. But he was just glad he was there. Relieved. It felt right.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked Baz, turning to face him, away from the valley. Sunlight spilled down the man in slanting beams, like they belonged to him. He loved him, Chiro realized that now more than ever. He loved him more than his life could comprehend.

“Kiss me?” he asked. Nothing better could seal this moment in his memories.

Baz approached him, holding him lightly at the back of his neck while he opened his lips and received him in fullness. In the days to come, that was what he would remember more: his warm skin, his tongue in his mouth, his breath, the smell of his skin. Maybe one day, he would forget what the monuments looked like. Maybe one day, Baz’s face will come to him only in a blur.

But he would always remember that kiss. That one moment where he felt like after a long search, he’d finally made it home.

⚭

They stayed out for as long as their private tour allowed them, taking pictures, mostly for Baz’s sake. After dinner, they returned to their cabin and made love. It was just one of those nights that went on forever, where every kiss, every touch would only be the first of so many. So many.

When Chiro woke up, he saw Baz clearly. Like a miracle. He was young, so much younger than he’d ever seen him. His skin was darker, and he looked strong. Fit. A young man at his prime.

They laid under a canvas of sorts that filtered out the morning sun. He could smell incense and fresh wood. Baz was asleep. He called him by a different name, slightly different from the one he knew.

When he wouldn’t stir, he scuttled closer and pulled down the warm blanket that shrouded their nakedness. He traced the soft lines his muscles had drawn on his chest, his flat belly. He knew all those muscles by their names and could recite them in his sleep. He brushed the dark mat of hair between his legs, and then he cupped him. His fingers folded delicately around the shape of his manhood and began to stroke. He knew a million ways to get a man going by one touch alone.

But he didn’t have to try so many. He felt the man stir within his hand.

He saw those beautiful dark eyes open for him. With a wicked glint, Baz smiled at him.

⚭

When he woke up, he saw nothing.

He blinked once. Twice. He rubbed his eyes and raised his hand where he could see it, but saw nothing. And then he knew. He knew.

Panic came in right on cue, but it was feeble and weak. It set his heart racing, rousing him completely from sleep but he closed his eyes, and breathed. This was a long time coming. He should be prepared for this. He was prepared for this.

His hand searched his side for another. “Baz?” he asked, staring upwards. “Baz, where are you?” He felt the bed jump all of a sudden. “Baz—”

“I’m here!” That baritone he loved to listen to, if only it said more. “I’m here.” His warm hands wrapped themselves around his reaching one, and he felt the eager kiss on his fingers. “What’s wrong, Chiro? What is it?”

“Where are you, Baz?” he asked calmly, turning towards his voice. And then, finally: “I can’t see you.”

“Can’t—?” It didn’t take long for him to catch on. “No,” he gasped. The bed moved as if he was getting on his knees. “No, no, no! Chiro, you can’t…can you…!”

“Five fingers? I don’t know.” Typical of him, he smiled at his own joke. “Don’t ask me questions I don’t know the answer to, I’m only guessing here.”

“Chiro…!” He couldn’t tell if Baz was devastated or frustrated at him for downplaying this tragedy. He felt a wet, urgent kiss on his forehead and then Baz’s collarbone on his nose when the man hugged him tightly. He smelled them both on his skin and tried to kiss it but Baz broke contact immediately.

“Stay here. I’ll look for someone who can help!”

“Where am I going? I’m blind!” Chiro wanted to laugh so bad. “Baz, can you just…” He reached for him, grasping the air. Somehow, all that flailing had found him a finger, and then a wrist which he grabbed with his other hand.

“Baz, I’m blind,” he reminded him gently, smiling in the midst of this emergency. “Don’t leave a blind man alone, Baz. Just stay here with me. Okay? Don’t go running off where I can’t see you.” Which was everywhere.

Which was, anyway, his point. He needed him by his side, and he should only be by his side. Especially at this trying time—assuming it was still a trying time.

It didn’t take much for Baz to come back to his side. He guided him as best he could at first, but soon the bed was sinking and he was being pulled into a pair of arms and a waiting chest. This time, he kissed it, just as the man held him closer still, until they were length to length. He heard him sniffling. His poor man.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly to him, reaching back to embrace him. “It’s okay.”

⚭

“What are you looking at?”

They stood atop a bridge, overlooking the river flowing under his feet. The wind was sharp where it blew his face, but he liked the cold weather. He liked that he was warm under his thick coat and the wool scarf wrapped snug around him.

“I’m looking at the Statue of Liberty,” he said. “And then just behind it, I see the Sydney Opera House.”

“We’re in Paris, by the way.”

He broke out in a grin. He knew, of course. He’d been excited for it, in spite of his condition. “The great thing about being blind is that you no longer need to be confined by the limits of reality.”

“I was under the impression that I married a blind man who couldn’t see, not a delusional who saw whatever he wanted to see.”

“Who’s the fool, then? The blind fool or the fool who married the blind fool?”

“I’m never going to escape this life, am I?”

He was still smiling. “Do you want to?”

There was a pause. He imagined Baz turning to look at him. And then he said, “You know I don’t want to.” That low, quiet rumble again. He swore he could kill a man for it.

They fell silent after, contented simply to be with each other. Baz observed while Chiro thought. The River Seine flowed on unceasingly beneath them.

“So,” Baz spoke all of a sudden, “this has been…a fun honeymoon.”

“I like it,” Chiro insisted. “You know, we should come here more often.” He nudged his husband beside him. “You should use your money to buy a house here. Escape from all your problems back home.”

“We’ll always go back to them anyway, so what’s the use?” Baz replied. “The problems won’t stop until we die.”

“I married for companionship, not for the inheritance.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Chiro.”

“But the money is convenient.”

“I knew you would say that.”

“But you still married me,” Chiro reminded him, grinning into space. He played with the cold metal band around his finger, a complicated thing that resembled a bird with its wings forming the loop. The proposal was so simple: Baz cooked dinner, and then he handed him the open ring box and let him figure it out. Then he asked him and he accepted. And that was that. “You ever wondered,” he began suddenly, “where we’d be now if we hadn’t met each other?”

“Sometimes I try, but it’s difficult,” Baz said after a minute. “I can’t even remember what my days were like without you.”

“More peaceful.”

“But less meaningful.”

He might have blushed—if he had the capacity for it. But he just smiled and let his happiness speak for itself. “I can’t imagine it either. But sometimes, it scares me.” His fingers sought for Baz’s to slip between them. “When I was starting to lose my eyesight, I always envisioned myself in an empty room, all by myself. Even with a cat as your life companion, that’s hard. But along came you, and you were there when I went completely blind.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine it happening without you by my side, crying like a baby.”

“I can’t believe you convinced me to marry you.”

He snickered. “I’m not about to let go of a man who’d cry for me like that. Think about it: what if we never realized how important we were to each other? What if, after we met in the children’s hospital, we just went on with our lives, not knowing what we missed?”

“Then we’ll meet again in the next life,” Baz answered easily, perhaps throwing a shrug with it. “And the next. On and on, until we grow old together, or our lives are spent.”

He turned quickly to Baz’s voice, eyebrows curling. There was something about what he said that felt like an echo. Like he knew the words even before Baz had spoken them, but he never knew about their existence until then. He tasted them again in his tongue, repeating ponderously to himself, “On and on…until we grow old together…or our lives are spent.”

He faced Baz’s approximate direction. “Where have you heard of that before?”

“Don’t know. Somehow, it’s always been at the back of my head.”

“Huh.” Chiro faced the city across him again. “Is that so? I thought they sounded familiar.”

“Did I get it from one of your movies, then? I mean the stuff you used to watch before you went blind.”

Chiro shrugged. “Beats me. I believe in it, though.”

“As you should,” Baz affirmed. And that was that.

They stood again in silence. Watching. Listening. Thinking. All around them, the city flowed like the river they stood over, unceasing in its motion.

Soon after, they, too, joined it, walking down the bridge, hand in hand.