#I’m a sucker for those kind of feel good moments and I was feeling it in this trailer damn it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kirammanswifey · 1 month ago

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《A Love Written in Pain(t)》

Ekko

writer's note: i'm sorry for making my boy suffer again, ekko deserves better but i'm a sucker for drama. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's mel's turn ;)

link:

warnings: fluff, angst, terminal illness, death of oc, ekko is a romantic sweet talented baby, reader can be a jerk sometimes but she kinda cool sometimes.

The music vibrated in the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint and street food. You had come to the urban festival on a friend's recommendation, but you never imagined it would be an afternoon that would change your life. Artists were filling the city's gray walls with bright colors and messages of hope, and among them, one boy stood out.

His white hair contrasted with his skin, and the agile movement of his hand as he slid paint onto the wall was almost hypnotic. The mural he was creating seemed to come alive with every stroke: a girl holding a broken clock, surrounded by gears that spun toward nowhere. The image had something deeply melancholic about it, as if telling a story only a few could understand.

You watched him from afar, too shy to approach, until he noticed your presence. He turned his head and smiled at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and kindness.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming down from the scaffolding with the same ease he seemed to do everything.

"It’s... impressive. But it also feels sad, like it’s about a loss or something that can't be recovered."

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised. "That's exactly what I wanted to convey. It’s about time. How we always think we have more of it than we really do, but we never know when it runs out."

His explanation fit perfectly with what you had felt while observing it. "I saw it more like a fight... like she doesn't want to give up, even if the clock is already broken."

For a moment, Ekko seemed to look at you differently, as if measuring something invisible. "I’ve never thought of it that way. I like that perspective. I guess that’s what’s great about art, right? It’s a conversation."

You smiled, feeling for the first time like someone understood how you saw things. "I guess so."

"Do you always analyze strangers' murals?" he joked, a playful smile on his lips.

"Only when they make me feel something," you replied with a hint of shyness, but without looking away.

"Well, then that’s a compliment."

Hours passed, but you didn’t even notice as the sun began to set. Talking with Ekko felt like discovering a song you didn’t know you needed in your life. He told you about his workshop, his passion for helping the community, and his dreams of changing the world, one gadget at a time.

At some point, he asked about your story, and although you weren’t the type to open up easily, you felt like you could be honest with him.

"I work with kids," you began, searching for the right words. "At an orphanage near my university. I like to think I can do something for them, even if it’s small. I’m studying psychology, and I want to help people like them... people who feel alone."

Ekko nodded, as if understanding every word. "That’s amazing. It’s like... you take care of people, and I try to make sure they take care of the world around them. Maybe you should stop by my workshop sometime. I work with kids from the neighborhood, teaching them how to fix things, build gadgets. We could join forces."

The enthusiasm in his voice was contagious, but you couldn’t help feeling a pang of doubt. It had been a long time since you let yourself connect with someone new, for reasons he didn’t need to know.

"Really? You take anyone?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Only if they have a good eye for art and a heart for kids. You seem to qualify."

When you got up to say goodbye, he pulled out his phone and offered you his contact. "In case you decide to visit the workshop."

You took the phone, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You didn’t know what you were getting into, but something told you that Ekko wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.

By the end of the day, as you walked back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His paint-stained hands, his sincere laugh, and that strange connection you felt from the moment he looked at you.

You didn’t know it yet, but you had just met the love of your life.

A few days after the festival, you still couldn’t get Ekko out of your head. There was something about him that fascinated you: the spark in his eyes when he talked about his dreams, the passion behind every word, his way of seeing the world with optimism despite the struggles. You found yourself re-reading the festival brochure and checking his social media profile, where he shared glimpses of his life: videos of his skate tricks, photos of murals filled with messages of resistance, and small clips explaining how to build gadgets. And pictures of him too and... he was kinda cute.

Finally, you decided to message him.

"Hey, I’m the girl from the mural. You said I could come by your workshop... Is the invitation still open?"

The reply came faster than you expected: "Of course. Come by anytime. The kids will be happy to meet you. Does 4 PM today work?"

The workshop was located in an old brick building in a lively neighborhood. The exterior walls were covered in vibrant graffiti that seemed to tell stories. The main entrance had a huge phrase in bold letters: "We build the future together." When you walked through the door, you found yourself in a space that radiated creativity and chaos in perfect harmony. There were tables filled with tools, parts of half-built gadgets, unfinished murals covering the walls, and a group of kids focused while Ekko enthusiastically explained something to them.

When he saw you, his face lit up, he said with sarcasm: "Hey, the mural girl is here!

You blushed.

"I hope I’m not interrupting," you said, feeling a little shy as all eyes turned toward you.

"Not at all. Actually, come here. I want you to see this."

He led you to a table full of small artifacts and technological pieces. "This is my experiment corner," he said, pointing proudly at the mess. "This is where the magic happens, although sometimes the magic is more frustrating than anything else."

The kids started to gather around, curious, and Ekko introduced you with a warmth that made you feel at home. "She works with kids too. She helps them find their way."

One of the younger ones looked at you with bright eyes. "Really? Do you do cool things like Ekko?"

You bent down to their level, smiling. "I don’t build things like he does, but I try to help people find their strength. Sometimes, the most important thing isn’t what we do with our hands, but with our hearts."

Ekko, who had been listening, looked at you with a mix of admiration and tenderness. "That was deep. I’ll have to write that down for my next mural."

Hours passed in the workshop. You helped the kids with their projects, painted a couple of things with Ekko, and learned more about his life. In a moment of calm, while the kids were absorbed in their creations, Ekko sat next to you, a screwdriver in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know? This place means a lot to me," he started, his tone more serious than before. "When I was a kid, there was nothing like this in my neighborhood. Growing up here was... complicated. There wasn’t always someone to turn to when things got tough."

"How did you manage to get through it?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Ekko smiled sadly. "It was thanks to my mom. She always told me that, even though we couldn’t change where we were born, we could change what we did with it. She taught me not to give up, to find ways to transform things, even if they were small. When she died... well, I promised myself I’d do something so other kids wouldn’t have to feel as alone as I did."

He paused, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hands. "At first, I didn’t know how. I just knew I wanted to make a difference. That’s when I discovered skateboarding, art, and technology. They were my escapes. And over time, they became my way of communicating, of creating something that mattered."

You felt a lump in your throat listening to his story. There was something about the way he spoke, the vulnerability behind his words, that made every detail come alive. "You’ve done something incredible here, Ekko. This place... it’s not just a workshop. It’s a home."

He looked at you, surprised by your words, then smiled, although his eyes glowed with contained emotion. "Thanks. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough. But hearing that... it makes me think maybe I am."

"You’re amazing." You squeezed his hand as a gesture of affection and respect, which made him smile shyly.

When the day ended, Ekko walked you to the door of the workshop. "So, what do you think?"

"I loved it! It’s like a refuge from the world."

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck with some shyness. "I try to make it that way. And I’m glad you came. The kids got along really well with you. They liked you."

"And you?" you asked, before you could stop yourself.

"Me?"

"Do you like me?"

For a moment, he seemed surprised by your question, but then he smiled with that spark in his eyes that you were starting to recognize. "I think so."

You said goodbye with a smile that didn’t leave your face the entire way home, carrying the feeling that, in some way, you had found a place where you belonged.

The afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden light as you walked toward the park where Ekko had arranged to meet you. You weren’t sure what to expect; when he had suggested it, you thought it would be a simple, casual activity. But when you arrived and saw him carrying two skateboards, a mischievous smile on his face, you realized this wasn’t going to be any ordinary day.

“Are you ready to become a professional skater in just one afternoon?” Ekko asked, raising an eyebrow as he held a helmet in one hand and a board in the other.

“Professional? I can barely stay on my feet without falling,” you replied, laughing nervously.

“That’s what makes it fun,” he said, walking up to you to adjust your helmet. His fingers brushed your skin as he fastened it, and you noticed his movements were unnecessarily slow, as if he were looking for an excuse to be closer to you.

“And you? Are you going to wear a helmet or trust your legendary skill?”

Ekko shrugged, smiling to the side. “Nah, I was born for this.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, nudging him with your shoulder.

The park had a wide track with ramps and flatter areas where beginners could practice. Ekko led you to one of these areas and began with a quick lesson.

“First, keep your feet steady. Don’t look down, look where you want to go. The board will follow your intentions.”

“My intentions? What am I, a witch controlling the skateboard with my mind?”

Ekko laughed. “Something like that. Though, if you were a witch, you’d probably have learned how to fly on this thing by now.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but on your first attempt, the board shot out from under you, and you ended up on the ground.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” Ekko was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“I’m fine,” you said, though you could barely stop laughing. “I think the board hates me.”

“No, you just have to conquer it. Look.” He jumped onto his skateboard with a fluidity that seemed to defy gravity. He glided smoothly along the track, doing small tricks to impress you. “See? You just need confidence.”

“Of course, confidence is the only thing I’m lacking,” you joked.

After several attempts, you started to improve. You managed to stay on the board for more than a few seconds, though falls were still frequent. Every time you fell, Ekko was there, offering a hand to help you up, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

After a while, both of you sat on a nearby bench to rest. Ekko took out his phone and began searching for something in his playlist.

“I’ve got the perfect song for this moment,” he said, setting it to play on the speaker.

Tyler, the Creator’s melodic voice filled the air with the song "See You Again." Ekko looked at you with a smile that seemed to hold something more than just fun.

“Why this song?” you asked, trying to interpret the meaning behind his choice.

“It reminds me of you,” he replied, his tone more serious than you expected.

You paused for a moment, allowing the music to fill the space between you. You knew there was something in his words, something he was trying to say without saying it. But instead of confronting it, you chose to laugh, avoiding the weight of the moment.

“Wow, Ekko, if you wanted to dedicate me a song, you could’ve chosen something less obvious,” you joked, pretending not to notice the gleam in his eyes.

He smiled, but there was something in his expression that made you feel a slight pang of guilt. You knew he was trying to open up to you, and you had deflected it.

As the afternoon went on, the topic faded, but a subtle tension lingered in the air. It wasn’t just about him; it was also about you. There was something you couldn’t share with Ekko, something that weighed on you more with each passing day. Your illness wasn’t an easy topic, especially now when you were just starting to get to know each other.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you both walked toward the graffiti area of the park.

“I’m not quiet. I’m… thinking.”

“About what?”

“How easy it is to be with you,” you said without thinking. The sincerity in your words took him by surprise, and you could see his expression soften.

“Well, I’m glad it’s easy. But if you ever need to talk about something hard, I’m here too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth that made you feel guilty.

“Thanks,” was all you managed to respond.

Days later, Ekko took you to the graffiti area. He had been working on something in secret and didn’t want to tell you what it was until he finished.

“Ready to see how I see you?”

When you turned the corner and saw the mural, you were left speechless. It was your face, captured with an astonishing level of detail. Your hair seemed to move with the breeze, and your eyes were filled with a light you didn’t recognize at first. Around your face, Ekko had painted details that only the two of you would understand: small rays of light that seemed to represent hope, and a golden phrase that read:

“Life is short, but art is eternal.”

“Ekko…” you murmured, unable to find words to describe how you felt.

“This is what I see when I look at you. You're art,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

The mural was more than just an image. It was a reflection of how he saw you: as someone bright, unique, and irreplaceable. As you looked at it, you promised yourself that one day you would tell him the truth, even though you feared losing what you had.

The morning began with Ekko knocking on your door, carrying a huge box that almost covered his face.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I staying here decorating the hallway?" he said, balancing the box.

You laughed, opening the door wide. "What do you have there? A corpse?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, baby" he joked, walking in and setting the box on the table.

Baby, that's how he was used to call you now. It didn't felt wrong, in fact, you liked it. It felt so good when he said it to you. It made you feel special. It made you feel loved. It made you feel his.

"It's for tomorrow's event. We're going to need a lot of help to make sure everything goes smoothly."

"An event? What are you talking about?"

Ekko leaned forward, resting on the table with a smile that combined enthusiasm and a bit of nervousness. "It's for the kids in the neighborhood. I'm organizing a sort of fair. Games, music, food... you know, something to help them forget for a while everything that's going on down here."

The morning passed organizing ideas. Ekko had an almost contagious energy, moving around your apartment like a whirlwind while making lists, dividing tasks, and talking about his plans.

"So, what do you think of a painting workshop? We could get some cheap canvases and brushes. I'm sure the kids would love to express themselves that way."

"I love it," you replied, watching his face light up. "How do you have so much energy for this?"

"It's important," he said, his tone turning more serious. "These kids... a lot of them don't have anyone who really shows them that they matter. If I can do something to change that, even for just one day, I will."

Your heart tightened as you listened to his words. There was something deeply inspiring about his dedication, how he used his own pain as fuel to improve the lives of others.

"So, where do I fit into all of this?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smile.

"Simple. You're my right hand. Plus, no one can resist your brilliant ideas and that smile of yours," he said, winking before turning back to focus on his plans.

In the afternoon, Ekko took you to his loft to check out some materials he had gathered for the event. His home was filled with curious objects: disassembled tech pieces, unfinished paintings, and notebooks full of sketches and notes.

"This place is like your brain made into physical space," you commented, looking around with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Definitely."

You went up to the roof, where there was a small area Ekko had transformed into a personal retreat. There, he showed you his next project: a portable device designed to help people with motor disabilities perform everyday tasks with greater ease.

"How does it work?" you asked, taking the gadget in your hands.

"It's a prototype," he explained, sitting next to you. "The idea is for it to adapt to different needs. For example, someone with trouble holding objects could use it for a firmer grip. It's simple, but it could make a difference."

You looked at him, impressed. "Ekko, this is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"I guess... I've always wanted to fix things. People, places, systems... whatever." He paused, looking at the horizon. "I don't know, I feel like it's the only thing I really know how to do."

The sincerity in his voice moved you. "You're not fixing things, Ekko. You're improving them. That's something very different."

Later, as you both worked on the final details for the event, Ekko looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uneasy.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you always keep your distance? Sometimes I feel like you're here, but at the same time, you're not. Like there's something you don't want me to see."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't expect Ekko to be so direct.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, his voice firmer. "I've noticed how you avoid certain topics, how you change the conversation when something gets too personal. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"It's not that," you replied, feeling the frustration building inside you. "There are just things I don't need to share. Not everything has to be so... open."

"Not with me?"

His question hit you like a punch to the stomach. You stood up from the chair, unable to stay seated under his probing gaze. "Ekko, it's not as simple as you think."

"Then explain it," he said, standing up as well. "Because from here, it seems like you're more concerned with what you're hiding than with what we have."

What you two had was complicated. You weren't friends, you were more than that, but you weren't a couple either. It was complicated. And you didn't like to think about complicated things.

"You have no idea what you're saying!"

The raised tone of your voice surprised both of you. You felt the stress and physical exhaustion begin to take their toll. Your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet.

"Baby, are you okay?" Ekko stepped toward you, but before he could reach you, your legs gave out.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of his voice, filled with panic.

You opened your eyes under a cold, white light. The smell of disinfectant confirmed what you feared: you were in a hospital. You turned your head and saw Ekko sitting next to your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands intertwined.

The room was silent, only broken by the soft sound of the monitor marking the rhythm of your breathing. The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, creating patterns on the floor, but the calm was deceiving. You knew Ekko was worried, hurt, but what worried you the most was what Ekko had started to suspect. You couldn’t keep hiding it, and you knew the time to talk had come.

Ekko had probably been sitting in the chair next to your bed for hours, staring at the wall, lost in thoughts that seemed to consume him. You didn’t know if he hated you or if he was just trying to process what had just happened. After all, you had fallen unconscious in his arms, leaving him with a heavier emotional burden than any gadget prototype or community event. Now, he was paying the price for your secret.

“Ekko?”

He quickly lifted his head, and the mix of relief and worry on his face broke your heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t the same as usual. There was something broken in it.

“Baby, what’s going on? What haven’t you told me? The doctor... the doctor told me that...”

It was obvious that the doctor had given him more details than you had wanted to share. You hadn’t planned on opening up to him like this. But something in his gaze, the clear worry, and the deep sadness, made you say what you had kept hidden for so long.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you said, taking a deep breath. “The illness I have has no cure.”

After a long silence, and before everything could completely fall apart, you decided to explain more deeply about the illness that was consuming you because you knew Ekko needed to understand it fully, even though you weren’t sure you could save what was left between you both.

“Ekko… what I have is a rare, autoimmune disease. My immune system is attacking my own organs. It’s called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, and there’s no cure. It’s like my body is fighting against me all the time, little by little.”

Ekko stared at you in silence, as if he couldn’t process every word. He knew that everything you had said before, although important, wasn’t enough to understand what was really happening.

“When?” he asked, his voice tense, almost inaudible. “Since when?”

“I started feeling bad when I was 23,” you continued, your voice trembling. “It hurt all the time, and the fever wouldn’t go away. At first, I thought it was something temporary. But then I fainted once, and that’s when they admitted me to the hospital. That’s when they told me that what was happening in my body was much worse than I imagined. From there, my life completely changed. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I lost energy, I lost weight, and the flare-ups became more frequent. It’s like my body is in a constant war, and there’s no way to win it.”

The feeling of vulnerability overwhelmed you as Ekko, standing at the door, continued to look at you with a mix of disbelief and pain.

But before he could say anything, you threw out one last statement that seemed to come from the deepest part of your soul:

“And I don’t know how much time I have left, Ekko. I just know that I can’t live knowing I’m dragging you with me.”

Ekko stood still for a moment, processing your words. His breathing became heavier, as if an invisible weight had fallen on him. Finally, his eyes sought yours, and what he saw in them wasn’t surprise. It was like, somehow, he already knew, as if he had sensed it all this time.

“Your parents?” Ekko asked again, his eyes fixed on you, searching for answers that you couldn’t hide anymore.

“My parents don’t know,” you said, letting out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within. “They have no idea. How am I going to tell them that? How am I going to tell them? No… I don’t want them to see me as a project they need to save. I want them to see me for who I am, to see me as their daughter, not as a broken thing they need to take care of. I don’t want to be a burden. I’m not going to be a burden.”

Ekko looked at you, his eyes filled with frustration, but also with a sadness so deep that it made you question whether he really knew you as well as you thought.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide all of this from me? Did you think you could protect me from the truth? What were you really protecting—me or yourself?”

The punch of his words was like a gut punch. The wound you had tried to seal with lies and evasions started to bleed, and the emotion overflowed in you like a river that couldn’t be stopped.

“I don’t know…” you stammered, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know, Ekko. I wanted… I wanted all of this to keep being normal. For it not to be so… so heavy. I wanted to do everything I’ve always wanted to do before… before it ended. I wanted to leave my mark on the world before I’m gone, to leave something that was worth it.”

Ekko began to pace back and forth. His frustration became more palpable, but there was something else in his attitude, something you hadn’t recognized at first.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he yelled, and the vehemence in his words made everything in the room feel even denser. “I don’t understand why you had to carry all of this alone. Why did you shut me out, baby? Why did you make me believe that everything was okay?”

“Because it was easier that way,” you said, the words tumbling out. “Because what’s happening inside me… how do you explain that to someone who doesn’t understand? How do I explain that my body is already losing the battle, that I won’t be here much longer, that everything I touch will fade?”

The anger in Ekko’s eyes faded for a second, and what remained was a sadness so deep it seemed to swallow the light in the room.

“And what about me, baby?” he said, his voice softer, more broken. “What about us? Did you really think I didn’t care? Did you really think I could go on without knowing what’s happening to you? That I could keep smiling and helping you as if nothing was going to change?”

At that moment, something inside you broke. Without thinking, the words left your mouth, sharp and like a dagger:

“Stop looking for it in me, Ekko. I’m not your mother. I’m not her. Don’t project that onto me! I don’t want to be the memory of what you lost. I don’t want to carry that responsibility, or the guilt of not being what you expected.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was unbearable. Ekko took a step back, his face contorting with a mix of pain and confusion. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“How could you say that?” he whispered, his voice broken, as if every word he spoke cost him more than the last. “I never ‘projected’ her onto you. It’s just… I don’t want you to keep pushing me away. I don’t want you to keep hiding your fears from me.”

And then, both of you stood there, in that emotional abyss that neither of you knew how to cross. Frustration, fear, love, and sadness intertwined in the room, as if time had stopped completely.

Finally, the silence became unbearable. You sat up in bed, defeated, while Ekko turned and walked toward the door. His body tense, his breathing ragged, and the pain in his face made him feel more real than ever.

Before leaving, he stopped and looked at you one last time. “If you had used your psychology for yourself instead of for everyone else, maybe you could’ve avoided this.”

The door slammed behind him with a dull thud, and you were left there, alone, with the echo of his words ringing in your ears.

Time had passed. The days and nights blurred into a mixture of conflicting feelings, unfinished memories, and a void that both of them tried to fill without success. The argument between Ekko and you had left deep scars, although both of you knew it couldn't be the end. Not for you. However, there was something neither of you had been able to face: fear. Fear of love, fear of tragedy, and fear of losing each other before either of you expected it.

You had distanced yourself for a week. A week that had been heavier than you ever imagined. In every corner, in every solitary moment, in every thought, Ekko was there, like a persistent shadow. No matter what you did, how you tried to ignore him, the emptiness left by his departure enveloped you more and more. You tried to convince yourself it was for the best, that moving on without him was the right thing to do. But you were lying to yourself, you knew you couldn't continue without him. Not that way.

Finally, after days of deliberation, finding the strength to face your own fear, you decided to go find him. You had to talk to him, make amends, and make a decision. If you were going to die, you would do it without regrets, without leaving words unsaid, or missed opportunities. You wouldn’t care about the shadows of the future, but you couldn’t keep living with the weight of silence between you two.

You found yourself standing in front of his door, hands trembling and heart pounding in your chest. You knew what you had to say, what you wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in your throat.

The door slowly opened, and there he was, Ekko, with that gaze that, though intense, still carried a hint of sadness. There was something in his face that told you he had been searching for you in his mind as well, though his eyes didn't yet recognize it.

"Ekko…" you finally said, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Without saying a word, Ekko took a step back and opened the door, inviting you inside. The atmosphere in the room was heavier than you remembered, as if everything unsaid still lingered in the air.

You stood in front of him, your eyes fixed on his, while the words that needed to come out didn't come immediately. But in the end, you decided.

"Ekko, I know I failed you. I know, and I’m deeply sorry. It was never my intention, it never was." You took a deep breath, struggling to control the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "But I'm here because… because I need to know if you're still willing to fight with me. If you're willing to continue this battle, to stay by my side for as long as I can."

Ekko stared at you for a moment, his face impassive, but his gaze was full of something you couldn’t decipher. There was a long pause, and then, with a sincerity that made you shiver, he responded:

"I’ve always been willing, baby. From the moment I met you, I’ve been willing to fight for you, for what we have. I don’t care what comes, I don’t care how long it is. What matters to me is that you don’t leave, that you don’t leave me behind."

Those words were everything you needed. No more doubts, no more fears. You embraced his answer with your soul, with the certainty that, finally, both of you were ready to accept the truth. The truth of who you were, what you felt, and what the future held for you.

From that day on, things changed. Although you knew each moment was a fleeting gift, you decided to make the most of it. Ekko never stopped being by your side, and you did the same for him. You were determined to live intensely, no matter how short the life you had left. And he, he was willing to love you until the end.

He accompanied you to every medical appointment, always with a smile, always willing to do anything to lighten the pain caused by the treatment. The hospital visits weren’t easy, but his presence made everything more bearable. He held your hand before entering the consultations, hugged you after every diagnosis, and never let the moments of uncertainty crush you.

"I don’t want you to be afraid," you said one day, after one of your doctor visits, while walking together through the streets, taking a break at a small café. "But I know you feel it. I know every time we go in there, it kills you a little inside."

Ekko looked at you, his gaze full of both pain and tenderness. "It’s not fear," he replied, his voice soft. "It’s not knowing how to save you. I don’t know what to do when I see you so fragile. All I can do is be here, by your side."

And that was enough. Even though both of you knew you couldn’t stop time, nor the illness, what you could do was share every second, every laugh, every small victory, and every defeat.

But it wasn’t only moments of pain and fear. There were also moments of joy, of beauty, and of creation.

Together, you started working on the project you both dreamed of—the gadget you had envisioned, which could change the way the world saw technology. Even though your health was becoming more fragile, Ekko made sure you didn’t stop. You worked side by side, sharing ideas, making decisions, and facing obstacles, but always together. It was your way of fighting, of resisting, of holding on to life amidst the chaos.

One day, while working on the final design, Ekko surprised you with an idea. "How about, in addition to all this, we paint something? Something that’s ours, something that represents what we’re doing together."

At first, you didn’t completely understand what he meant, but soon you did. Together, you would create something more than just a gadget. You would paint a mural, one that symbolized not only your dreams and love, but also the struggle you shared. The mural would represent life, love, and hope, even though you knew time was limited.

In your mind, that mural became the testament of your story, a reminder of what you had built together. The colors shone on the wall, the shapes wild and beautiful, just like your love. The mural wasn’t just a work of art, but also a promise. The promise that, no matter what else might crumble, your love would never fade. No matter how much time you had left.

The last strokes were made one sunny afternoon, in a deep, shared silence. The piece was finished, and as you stepped back to admire it in its entirety, both of you knew you didn’t need words to understand what it meant.

The mural was more than a reminder of your love; it was a testament to what you had built together, of how, even in the darkness, you had found light. Though the future remained uncertain, the mural would stay there, eternal, as a trace of what once was and would always be.

As the days passed, time seemed to grow more valuable, more scarce. You knew that every minute spent with Ekko was a gift. And although illness had taken much from you, it had given you something you never imagined: a deep, real love that feared no tragedy.

One afternoon, while resting together in his loft, Ekko looked at you seriously, more serious than you’d seen him in a long time. In a soft voice, almost as if afraid of the answer, he asked:

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You paused for a few seconds, feeling the weight of the question. But in that moment, something inside you broke. You smiled tenderly, a smile full of love and resignation.

"Ekko," you said softly, moving closer to him, "we’re so much more than that."

The smile he gave you was the answer both of you needed. You didn’t need labels, you didn’t need promises of an uncertain future. The only thing that mattered was that, in that instant, you shared something so deep and real that it didn’t need to be defined by words.

And, without another word, your lips met in a first kiss, a kiss full of love, despair, and hope. A kiss that marked the beginning of what both of you knew would be a short story, but one that would last a lifetime in your hearts.

The weeks following the reconciliation were a whirlwind of emotions. Even though you knew time was running out, you decided to live each moment with Ekko as if it were the last, because in reality, it was. Sometimes, the smiles were forced, but in the most sincere moments, you could see in his eyes the reflection of a love so strong it took your breath away. Every time he looked at you, every time he held your hand, there was a mix of hope and pain, but neither of you wanted to face the inevitable.

The illness progressed rapidly. Every day, your body seemed to fall apart a little more. The doctors had told you, warned you, but you never imagined how quickly the end would come. You had learned to live with the pain, the fatigue, the moments of weakness, but nothing had prepared you to see Ekko closely watching the changes happening inside you.

You had already told your parents about it, and when you did it he was there with you, by your side, ride or die. And of course they didn't take it well, but there was nothing they could do. They just let you be happy with Ekko.

Sometimes, when you woke up in the morning, you’d see him sitting beside you, his gaze lost in some undefined point, as if he were waiting for you to wake up from the shared dream. He’d ask you how you were feeling, and you’d always say you were fine, even though the truth was you could barely bear the weight of your own body.

You saw him trying to distract you, taking you to places that made you happy, but you knew nothing could escape that reality. He didn’t want to accept what was happening, and neither did you, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud. No one wanted to mention what was already so obvious.

That night, after another doctor’s appointment that you could barely endure, you lay down hoping to rest, even though it was becoming harder and harder to find deep sleep. Your body no longer responded the way it used to, and the symptoms had started affecting you more brutally. You could barely move your hands without feeling pain, your breathing grew more labored with every effort, but you kept smiling. You had to, not only for Ekko, but for yourself.

Ekko was sitting beside you in the chair he always occupied when taking care of you. His presence was as comforting as it was painful. You knew he was holding onto every fragment of his strength to not show you how devastated he was, but you could feel it in his eyes. He gently stroked your hair and whispered, as though afraid that if he spoke any louder, everything would collapse.

“I promise we’ll get through this. Together, we’ll make it. I won’t let you leave me, not without a fight.”

You looked at him, knowing he was struggling not to cry. But his words, although full of love, only reminded you of the harsh reality. There was no more time for promises, no more room for fighting. The end was near, and you knew it.

“Ekko…” you said, your voice weak. “You don’t have to fight anymore. I’ve loved you so much, you know that, right?”

His eyes filled with tears, but he made an effort to smile. “I know. I know, baby. And I love you more than words can say.”

But what you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ekko was also fighting his own pain. While you rested, trying to gather some strength, he was in the workshop, working frantically on the gadget, the project you both had shared. The same gadget that, in his mind, represented everything you had built together. The gadget wasn’t just an object. It was the manifestation of what you two could accomplish when united, when you fought as a team.

Ekko knew the gadget couldn’t save you. He knew nothing could save you. But still, he felt that if he finished that project, a piece of you would remain. A trace of the hope you had brought into his life.

Hours passed, and the night stretched on in heavy silence. Ekko was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize time was slipping away. The light in the workshop flickered as he soldered pieces, making adjustments, checking everything over and over, as if somehow he could turn back time, change the course of history. But he knew he couldn’t.

When he finally gave up on the gadget, exhausted from the intensity of the night and the weight of worry, he went up to the bedroom. He wanted to see you, wanted to make sure you were still breathing, even though he already feared what he might find. He entered the room with the hope that, by some miracle, everything had changed. But what he found was the silhouette of your body lying still. In the absolute silence of the room, Ekko slowly approached, his heart pounding, and when he reached your side, he touched your hand gently. It was cold. Too cold.

The shock paralyzed him for a second. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t accept that you were no longer there, by his side, where you had always been. He looked at you, observing your pale face, your peaceful expression, as if you were simply sleeping, but deep down, he knew there was no turning back.

Desperation washed over him. The pain hit him so hard it felt as though his chest would explode. How was it possible? How could something so beautiful, so real, vanish in the blink of an eye?

He knelt by the bed, gripping your hand tightly, as if by doing so, he could bring you back to life. “You can’t go,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the tears he could no longer hold back. “Not now. Not like this.”

But deep in his heart, he knew it was the end. He knew he couldn’t bring back what was already gone. He couldn’t revive the irreparable. And for the first time in his life, Ekko didn’t have a solution, he didn’t have a plan. All that was left was the pain, and that painful acceptance that it was all over.

In the following week, Ekko lived in a limbo. No one saw him, no one knew how to face his pain. Memories of you were everywhere. In the bed where you slept, in the gadget he completed, in the mural you painted together, in the streets where you both walked, always hand in hand. Everything that had once been a dream was now just an echo, a shadow.

Sometimes he’d find himself in front of your photo, the smile you shared on a random afternoon, one that he could no longer remember without the lump in his throat becoming unbearable. The reality hit him harder each time: you were no longer there.

Ekko became a shadow of himself. His mind still searched for you, as though somehow you might return, as though he could find a way to save you. But nothing could change what had happened.

In his darkest moments, Ekko would remember the last words you had said: “I’ve loved you so much.” Those words gave him strength to keep going, to not give up completely. Though the pain was unbearable, he had loved you, and that was something he would never forget.

And with the gadget in his hand, looking at the mural you both painted, Ekko made a promise, a silent promise: he would live to honor what you shared. He wouldn’t let your death be in vain. Your love, your fight, your story would live on in his heart, forever.

The city, as always, continued its course, indifferent to everything Ekko had lost, to everything that had changed in his world. But for him, the day was no longer just a succession of hours; every second was a struggle to find something that gave his pain and love meaning.

Months had passed since you left, but it felt like your absence was so recent, so sharp, that Ekko couldn't stop feeling that his entire being was stuck between life and death. No matter how much time had passed, your image was engraved in his mind, not as a memory, but as a constant presence, a voice whispering in his ear, as if you had never left.

Today, in particular, everything seemed to pull him back to the pieces of his pain. The project you had worked on together, the gadget, was finally ready. After so many sleepless nights, so much effort and sacrifice, the moment to present it had arrived. It had been a creation of love, passion, and farewell. A tribute to you, to what you shared, to what still remained of you in his heart.

Ekko walked with firm steps toward the community event where he would present the gadget. Around him, the people, some curious, others hopeful to see the result of years of teamwork. But he couldn't see them. He couldn't see beyond his own thoughts, the image of you floating in his mind. Sometimes, he thought that everything he had done in the past few months was just a way to avoid facing the truth: that you were gone and that, despite everything, life had to go on.

He entered the venue, a large hall filled with tables covered in technology, art, and brilliant inventions. The gadget was there, on a pedestal, waiting to be presented. Ekko stared at it in silence for a moment, recalling every afternoon spent working on it together. The design was sleek, full of details that reflected his intelligence and your ability to come up with unimaginable solutions. It was more than just a gadget; it was a piece of you, a piece of what they had been together.

The event began, and Ekko, with a calm that only he could have, presented his creation. He explained, with soft but firm words, how the idea had been born, how you had been the spark of inspiration for something that transcended technology and reached the heart. As he spoke, the words intertwined with memories, with your laughter, your jokes, the long nights spent debating the design, the future, and what they wanted to do. Every word felt like a sigh from the past, a sigh that tried to make the present make sense.

But inside him, Ekko knew that everything he was doing was just an echo of what had been. What remained was the emptiness, the absence you had left in his life.

When he finished, he stepped away from the stage, letting the gadget speak for itself. No one in the room understood what that creation really meant. No one knew how much it had cost, not in terms of hours of work, but in terms of love, sacrifice, and farewell. They didn’t understand that every screw, every adjustment, had been made with the hope that, in some way, it would bring you back, even if only for a second.

After the presentation, Ekko moved away from the bustle, walking slowly toward a secluded corner of the city. There, on the wall, was the first mural that he painted of you. The mural was a mural of love, hope, and pain. A mural that reflected every laugh they shared, every glance, every moment they had lived together. In the mural, you were more than just a figure; you were a story told in colors and shapes, in every stroke Ekko had made, in every brushstroke you had guided. The mural wasn’t just art; it was a piece of his soul, his heart, of you.

When Ekko stopped in front of the mural, the wind gently blew, moving some fallen leaves on the ground. His eyes, moist, traced every part of the painting, as if he were searching for something he would never find. He remembered how you had smiled while he was painting you, how you had loved it so much when he showed it to you.

The mural showed a version of you that was etched in his memory. He saw you, with your serene smile and your eyes full of dreams and desires. But what really stood out in the mural was your figure, as if everything else was just a stage for you, for what you meant in his life.

"We did it, baby," Ekko whispered, as if he could hear your voice responding, as if you were still there. "We did it together. Everything we dreamed, everything we wanted... we did it."

His tears began to fall, one by one, flowing like a torrent he could no longer hold back. His heart broke once more, but there was something in the sadness of that moment that gave him a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was because he finally understood that, even though you had gone, the love you shared could not disappear. Love doesn’t vanish with death; it stays, like a shadow that always follows the light. In the mural, in the gadget, in his memories, you would always be a part of him, forever.

Ekko stepped away from the mural, glancing one last time at the figure that now represented everything he had lost. He looked toward the future, toward the horizon, where the lights were beginning to flicker on, and the streets once again filled with people who knew nothing of what he had been through. An uncertain future, but a future he would have to face, because at the end of the day, what really mattered was how he would live after the loss.

With the image of the mural etched in his mind, Ekko moved forward. And in his heart, a promise: he would never forget what you both shared, he would never forget the legacy you left, and he would move forward with the strength of your love, because now he understood that love didn’t die, it transformed, just like art does. Like you did.

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

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Rafe with a reader who's known around as being a tease, all talk. I feel like he wouldn't like it very much

s1 rafe again bc for some reason im obsessed w him lately

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

he’s heard about you. a tease, as they call it — always flirting, batting your eyelashes up at every guy and then never putting out. no one was quite sure what kind of sick game you were playing, attracting the eyes of many at every kook gathering or country club outing but rafe was intrigued. not enough to do anything about it, but enough to watch from a far and ponder.

but you wanted rafe, and all his attention — which is why you’re sat right up next to him on a couch at some stuffy mansion party, watching him cut coke for one of his friends. youre practically pressed to his side, and he’s barely giving you the time of day, only making you want him more.

the only reason you turned down all those guys was because you only wanted him. even flirty girls like yourself could gain hardcore crushes, and now he was right by your side it felt like it was going nowhere.

“what you want, huh? you after somethin’ free? coke?” he glances at you, simultaneously waving to one of his friends across the room. you pout, not even able to hold his focus. luckily for you, your tipsiness made you more bold. bold and horny.

“m’interested in you.” you thumb at the sleeve of his polo, sulky and childishly begging for his attention. he laughs, eyes creasing at the side and at first you don’t even know if it was directed at you, until he turns his head— dropping the expression to something faux-serious, wide eyes and parted lips.

“oh yeah? me and the 50 other poor suckers you’re stringin’ along?” he teases and you shake your head, watching as his pal lifts his head from snorting the white lines, sliding a wad of cash across the table through the residue. rafe picks it up, starting to count it.

“you know i never actually do anything with those guys…” you defend.

“so i heard.” he turns back to you, cash fanned between two hands. “and you’ve chosen me tonight as your next victim. y’not gonna get so lucky there, sweetheart.”

“why not?” you couldn’t believe how pathetic you sounded, and maybe you were a masochist because something about the way he was the one controlling the conversation instead of you for once felt good.

“‘cus i’m not an idiot.” he folds the cash, pulling a clip out of his pocket and clipping the wad— shoving it deep into his pocket as he sends a parting smile to the customer. “what do you actually— i mean actually want from me?”

you look up at him beneath your lashes, a doll like appearance to your demure pout. damn, he thinks— you’re good at this.

“i’m just attracted to you rafe. wanted to talk to you. if you’re not interested just tell me. no need to embarrass me.”

he stares at you for a moment, and he kind of feels himself feel a little nagging guilt at his chest which he doesn’t appreciate. he sighs, shifting his body a little more towards you and pinches your jaw, making you look at him. it’s not a super rough gesture, but you blink in surprise anyway and the feeling goes straight to your pussy.

“and what’s gonna happen if we go upstairs to talk some more, hm?” he challenges making you swallow hard, never having felt needier for someone you’ve only had around seven fleeting conversations with in your life.

“w—we can get to know eachother and then maybe… can get to know other parts of you…” you admit, somehow shyly despite being such a floozy with other men. it fills him with pride at the fact he’s brought that side out of you, that is if that side is real of course.

he looks down at his crotch and back up at you suggestively. such a boy, you shouldn’t like it this much. “n’what about when i pull it out, huh? y’gonna run away?” he speaks lower, quieter, he’s talking about his dick to you in the middle of this party and you’re stupidly wet.

your lips part, eyes glancing at his mouth like you can’t contain yourself and your throat even trembles with the quietest mewl, relishing in the way his fingers clutch your jaw. “g’nna spit on it. suck on it. whatever you want, rafe…” your voice is airy, desperate. he smirks and lets go.

“alright. we’ll see. i’ll find you, yeah? got some business to attend to.” he gets up, leaving you. rafe cameron was making you work for it.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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daydreaming-in-letters · 7 months ago

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I have got SO many good pics saved, this is my time to shine! XD I feel like this could be 50/50 a meet-cute, or a meet-sexy, if you catch my drift

Hey! It has taken a moment, but it's done. I hope you don't mind I chose a different hairstyle.

warnings: language, possibly; drinking, no mentions of alcohol though; kissing; insinuation to future sexy times

This was not a normal Friday night. Far from it. All the stress of the week had vanished once you had walked through that door, probably blown away by the music which was on fire tonight. Around you, the smell of old wood and beer and bodies filled the pub. This was usually not too exciting, but above it all there was something else about tonight, something you could not quite grasp. Maybe to call it the thrill of excitement came closest to what it actually was, a feeling as if anything were possible.

And yet it was not until halfway through the night before it finally seemed to make do on what it had promised all along. You had just taken another sip of your drink, still laughing about one of your friend’s stupid jokes, when you felt his eyes on you for the first time. You turned on instinct, just in time to catch him glancing over at you before he suddenly looked away. You could not help but smile about the slight panic that must have caused his move. Fortunately, it provided you with the opportunity now to take a good, long look at him—which turned out a little more challenging than you would have expected.

Actually, you did not know where to look first. Maybe at his hair, those long, soft curls. He had pulled half of them up, but a few stubborn strands still refused to stay back and kept falling into his face no matter how often his long, slender fingers tried to tug them behind his ears. There were also the features of his face that competed for your attention. The prominent, thick brows for example, sitting above a pair of dark eyes. Sadly their colour was impossible to make out in the dim light. Or his beard, mh, his beard. You were such a sucker for long haired, bearded man and he just seemed to have it all.

Luckily for you, your sight must have been just as tempting for him, as soon enough he let his eyes wander back to you. And now, he allowed you even enough time for a smile, and when he smiled back, his eyes still holding yours, you could feel your heart doing a double flip in your chest.

The music was still booming, yet all you realised was the rolling of the bass in your stomach, everything else, the chatter, the clinking of glasses, the shuffling of feet on the ground, it was all silenced for a moment, overlaid by the feverish drum of your heartbeat. Even your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, but as you lifted your glass to your lips all that reached them were a few measly drops of liquid.

Good, you thought, it would provide you with an excuse to get closer to him. He sat next to the wall right opposite the counter, and as if fate had decided for you to make a move, there was a free spot at the bar close by. As you walked it was as if you were drawn to him, gravitating towards his chair, just to pass him by last minute. It were only a few steps to the counter now, but the weight of his stare was unmistakable, it followed you, all the way. Just as he had done, you realised after placing your order. He was just there, smiling, but that was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. Jesus, he was tall. The kind of tall where you had to crane your neck to look into his eyes.

“Can I buy that drink for you?”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” you said, already pushing some money across the counter top in exchange for your drink. You immediately took a sip, enjoying the confused look on his face just a moment longer. He was obviously still unsure about what had just happened, or whether he should leave. But obviously there was no way you would let that happen.

“But you could tell me your name instead.”

Immediately the brightest smile curled his lips, although his eyes were very busy watching his feet all of a sudden. Was he flustered? God, this man was so cute.

“I’m Andrew.”

How could a voice be this soft? You wanted to melt on the spot. But instead you held out your hand to him.

“Hi Andrew, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you said as if you were totally unfazed, and it was almost no surprise at all that his hand was just as soft.

From this moment on, it was easy. Almost too easy to be real. But you did not care. You had not felt this alive in a very long time. The giddiness that had befallen you was unreal. How could simply talking to someone else make you this ridiculously happy?

“Do you want to dance?”

The question came out of the blue for you, and you needed to follow his glance to understand what was going on. Over where you had stood before, your friends had somehow decided it was time to shake a leg. And with him, yes, you would have loved to join them. But something told you he was not asking you to dance with him, but whether you wanted to rejoin your friends. Those gangly limbs of his did probably not make him the most passionate dancer.

“Another time perhaps. Right now, I am very happy exactly where I am.”

He smiled, his eyes pulling you in, and it would have taken supernatural abilities to keep track of time after that. You must have been talking and laughing for hours, until the pub was about to close. Your friends had been long gone, and so were his.

And so you found yourself side by side, walking down the deserted streets at night. He had asked to walk you home, and this time you had not declined his offer. He was walking close to you, so close that the back of your hand had touched his a few times, always drawing his eyes to you instantly. But soon you had mercy, on him as much as on yourself. And so you allowed your finger to make contact first, letting your pinky gently glide along his, and he understood. His hand was warm, his grip just right, and as his thumb tenderly caressed yours, you knew it would be the hardest thing you had ever done to let go once the two of you had said your goodbyes.

You wished it would never have to end, but you were inevitably nearing your home. You had taken the scenic route already, stalling, being stingy with the moments you had left with him, and now there was just no way you could put this off any longer.

“This is me then,” you said, as you came to a stop.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the building behind you and you had no idea why until he spoke again.

“Are you sure? We could take a turn around the block just to make sure.”

His silliness made you chuckle.

“I’m afraid I am quite certain this is where I live.”

“Shame.”

It was, you thought, as your eyes fell to the ground.

“Andy?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

His answer came promptly, accompanied by a squeeze of your hand. “Please do.”

You had feared it would be awkward, asking that question, then reaching for him. But it was not. Not in the least. And when his lips touched yours for the first time, his taste rolling over your tongue, his breath mingling with yours, you were certain you would never want for anything again in your life.

You were wrong though. You still needed air. As did he. And so you pulled away, hesitant, refusing to let go entirely as you leant your forehead against his.

Andrew was the first to find his voice again. “Can we maybe do this again tomorrow?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Now it was him who chuckled, and he kept on smiling as you pulled out your phone and gave it to him so he could type in his number.

Then he leant down again for another—this time much too chaste for your taste—kiss.

“Night, love.”

“Night, Andy.”

He had taken a step back, your hands still entwined, tying you securely together. But then he took another and his fingers slowly slipped from your grasp. He smiled again, lips tightly pressed together, and right before he turned, he winked. A gesture so sinful it set you on fire despite the cold of the night air that surrounded you.

You watched him walk, all the way down the street. He would soon reach his turn, when the chime of his phone cut through the silence. A text alert. Pulling the phone from his pocket without stopping, his feet instantly refused to walk as the display lit up.

He had not noticed, but he must have started to smile, so much so his cheeks were beginning to hurt. He had never turned faster in his life.

#hozier #hozier x reader #hozier x you #request

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uhohdad · 8 months ago

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i’m an absolute sucker for the other pov (like the little snippets of könig’s thoughts/feelings) from the hg au. the way you write genuinely has me giggling and kicking my feet. ty dad for feeding us so well <3 <3<3

my sweet anon ask and ye shall receive

Konig x Reader Hunger Games AU

⚠️ THE TRIBUTES SPOILERS BELOW ⚠️

When Konig’s name was called he truly thought he was dreaming - not in like, a good way, but in, ‘this is truly so unbelievable it can’t possibly be real’ kind of way. Because what are the odds? It’s his worst nightmare that stars the girl he revolves around. It was the most bittersweet thing that has ever happened to him - as if the stars aligned during armageddon.

Shaking your hand was so conflicting. Your tiny hand, so soft in his calloused, overworked hands. It was absolutely electrifying to touch you for the first time, a jolt of warmth that started at his finger tips and bloomed throughout his body. It was immediately followed by a crashing wave of nausea thinking about those very same hands being forced to compete in a fight to the death.

When Reader made Konig ‘deal with her outer thigh,’ homie was SWEATING. I mean he somehow had absolutely no thoughts and a million at the same time. Dial-up motem up noises up there. He didn’t dare move against her in fear she would shift away. (He absolutely popped a chub and felt so guilty about it lmaoo)

Sooo disappointed when it didn’t happen again :/

I don’t think (?) I ended up including this in the final draft but Konig’s stylist’s name is Ithica and she adores Konig just as much as Ruby does, albeit in a more superficial way.

He was so flustered seeing Reader in the wheat dress and all dolled up for the first time, his heart stopped.

When Reader insisted Konig hold her hand on the chariot he got the exact same feeling he did when he shook her hand, when he was pressed to her thigh. A buzz under his skin and a flush on his cheeks. Sparks on contact that spread throughout his entire body. He was much less worried about the ceremony with Reader’s hand in his. It’s all he could focus on.

When Reader ripped her hand away he was sure he ruined everything. I mean, full spiral. He was sure it was his fault, that he misunderstood the gesture, that he forced himself on you. He felt perverted, filthy, as if he had just rubbed his dirty hands from a long day on the field all over a priceless work of art.

Konig got just as swarmed with hormones during the first aid training 😭

Konig has been actually benefiting from this world where his size is suddenly something to be adored for. He’s never been so self-assured in that sense - his interview, his score, every Citizen and every member of his team gushing over him. The fact that his size is such a huge, desirable advantage is such a stark contrast from what he’s used to. Aside from the whole ‘being sent to his death thing,’ the only thing making him nervous and negatively self aware is simply standing in Reader’s presence.

Bonding with Ruby has also been incredibly meaningful to him. He can’t help but see her as a mother figure, and she seems to accept and love just about everything about him.

Konig was so excited for Reader to see him in his lil interview suit. 😭

Konig spent so much time in his room, laying on his back, fingers threaded over his waist, staring up at the ceiling just thinking about every moment he shared with Reader that day.

+ fun fact, I almost included Simon Riley in this story. It was a toss up between Reader’s ‘Gale’ and Titan’s character. I kind of enjoyed playing with the original characters in this story though and I decided not to do the whole Gale thing. <3 don’t mind me

This is going to be incredibly controversial. But the reason y’all like this interpretation of Konig so much is because I swirled my interpretation of Konig with Peeta Mallark. Just sprinkled some Peeta in there. Love you Suzanne <3

Konig x Reader Hunger Games AU

#everyone knows i do it for y’all #<3 <3 💗💕💖💗💕#thank you 💕💞💗💖💕🩷💞#konig #konig cod #call of duty #uhohwriting #uhohask #tgwcm #fun facts #dadscannons

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gilverrwrites · 4 months ago

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I am such a sucker for characters experiencing kindness after being hurt for so long…and I bet Bruce ‘Consent is Sexy’ Wayne does too, the man *is* a professional white knight. Like yes Mister Wayne, stroke my face and tell me I’m pretty, compliment my intelligence randomly and not just to love bomb me like my crime lord ex-husband, kiss me soft before you kiss me hard. Bruce would treat you with kindness regardless, but there’s something that really pulls him in about the way you look at him every time he does or says something nice…maybe because he knows you’ve never looked at someone else like that. The way you’re trying not make it obvious that you’re desperate for his touch is certainly something - don’t worry baby, he’s not gonna make you chase or work for anything. And even though he doesn’t care about this stupid rivalry as much as Roman does, he does feel a little victory knowing that he doesn’t need need to drug you to get you excessively wet and babbling.

Good golly you came with the big guns babe.

Like my every time I read this to try and come up with a response worth reading I come out speechless cause im

I will say, the transition of being in your first ‘good’ relationship after a long term unhealthy one, for me at least, does contain those little moments.

My bf occasionally likes to bring up how for like the first 2 years of our relationship, and sometimes even to date, he’ll catch me looking at him in awe for offering me basic human decency. Just opening doors, or helping me carry my bags.

If I’d realise I’d been talking for a long time I’d stop and apologise, and he’d be like “no, no, no I like when you talk, I want to hear what you have to say.” And that was so fucking weird to me.

I was projecting when I mentioned that aftercare and the cuddling in the fic, and I’m totally doing it again now but yes, the “way you look at him every time he does or says something nice…maybe because he knows you’ve never looked at someone else like that. The way you’re trying not make it obvious that you’re desperate for his touch is certainly something - don’t worry baby, he’s not gonna make you chase or work for anything.” Has me by the neck.

Also, “he does feel a little victory knowing that he doesn’t need need to drug you to get you excessively wet and babbling.” Knocked me off my feet, you went for the throat, and I live for it.

#anon #thanks for the ask i love it #gilverranswers #bruce wayne/reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman/reader #batman x reader #batman #tw unhealthy relationship

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jesuis-assez · 2 months ago

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We know that Lucy calls Tim babe (I refuse to use past tense I’m in denial lol), if you could have your way, what would Tim call Lucy as a pet name? #ChenfordChats

Hmm... I think I'd melt if he called her 'Baby' or 'Sweetheart' I have a soft spot for those ones. I don't know what that's about. I don't want to go there 🤣

And if I think of moments where those terms of endearments could've been used:

6x04:

When he rushed to the hospital and comforted her by touching her head ever so gently. Him softly telling her, "My god, you didn't have to take my hero suggestion so literally" If we were to replace "my god" with "sweetheart" or "baby" ?? 👌

6x06: ( Everyone put your pitchforks down and hear me out ) 🤣

If he said "I'm sorry, baby" or 'sweetheart' right before kissing her forehead. Although, I'm not sure how it would have fit exactly in the scene. But, I wouldn't object to it. It actually was one of my favourite scenes of theirs in season six. It had everything for me. It ripped me apart emotionally and left me wanting more. I loved it, no sarcasm here. I'm being genuine.

The scene itself is already packed with so much angst. But, then there would be them holding hands, " I'm sorry, [term of endearment]" and a forehead kiss in there. We're already on the ground dying and that would just finish us off.

In 6x03:

Lucy is over preparing for her detective exam with Tim being so amazing and supportive.

What he said here was truly enough and It doesn't matter so much that a sweetheart wasn't at the end of him saying 'yourself', but I would've loved it even more. I thought him saying that to her was a huge thing to say, coming from someone who ALWAYS needs to feel in control.

Because Lucy was so far in her head with it. So much that she had been projecting all of her self-doubt onto Tim. She couldn't see that he was being supportive, because it's not like her parents were ever supportive of her career. She's never had that support.

Yes, Lucy. And not even yourself, either.

That's what she was doing. Listening to that voice in her head telling her that she isn't good enough. That she's not ready and she can't do it. And Tim being her number 1 supporter was there reminding her not to do that. After all... he had taught her not to.

And to see her going back into that mind-set, to see Lucy filling herself with all that self-doubt again? To second guess herself again... It must be hard to watch someone you love, spiral like that. To try and help them through it and no matter what you say or do, it only pushes them further to burning out.

I focused heavily on season 6 for examples. Even if he were just to say, "Are you okay, baby?" I am aware that he said 'baby' to Isabel before (When she got shot in the head) but, that doesn't mean shit here 🤣 It's obviously a term he has been comfortable with using in the past. I don't see why he wouldn't use it again, unless he were to come up with something specially for Lucy. (What I am hoping for)

If he were to actually use 'sweetheart' that would also fit well for Lucy, for how kind-hearted she is and has been to him.

I do hope that Tim might use something that we've never heard before. *fingers crossed* for this one. It won't matter if he doesn't. I'm ALMOST sure whatever endearment he comes up with (if he even does) some of us will probably pass out on the spot *raises hand* Me. I'd-- I'd do that. Ok, I might (very unlikely)

But what most likely would happen is what usually happens. I'll either be internally screaming or I'll sit there on the spot inaudibly screaming 'Ahhhh' while pointing.

I'm hoping it would be something that's unique to their relationship. Or at least Lucy. I'd be so on board for that! I am a sucker for those kinds of nickname/endearments, too.

Y'know, something similar to when she was his rookie and he would incessantly call her 'boot'.

Thank yooooou for sending me this ! I may have put waaay too much thought into this. I'm incapable of answering without talking extensively about it. This ask was a lot of fun 💖🤭

#chenfordchats #jesuis-assez: Chenford ask #I threw the endearments in the gifs so ya'll can visualise the dream 🤣#Kinda felt like I lost myself along the way and was answering outside of the question but it's all connected.#I'd be a miss if I didn't discuss other things alongside of the question. They end up connecting somehow

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thereaperisabitch · 1 year ago

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My Joel Miller fics recs from 2023

I’ve planned to do this since before Christmas, but life caught me up, so that's why I'm here rushing to finishing this before the reveillon party. 2023 was a very tough year for me, in different ways, and this stories were my refuge and my balm during good times and bad times, so this was the way I found to honor all these incredible authors who made my life better this year.

To the authors: you guys are the most amazing and sweet people ever, I know that I'm not active as other readers and I don't reblog your works enough - and I'm sorry for that, I wish I could shower you with the praises you guys deserve.

Hope this will make up for all the comments and reblogs that I haven't give.

And to the readers who find this recs: most of these stories are series and most of them has age gap and are Joel Miller x fem/afab!reader. I won't put warnings from each fic because it would be a too long post, so click the link and read the author's warnings in each before you start to read - I'm afraid to get into fandoms because of people who give shit to authors, so please, don't be this kind of person.

Someday I'll make a part 2 of other stories that caught me up this year.

That all being said, thank you @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @frannyzooey @joelsgreys @fuckyeahdindjarin @the-ginger-hedge-witch @eupheme @bageldaddy @covetyou @theidiotwhowritesthings @atinylittlepain @imtryingmybeskar @ezrasbirdie

A stranger's heart without a home (complete)

Summary: A one night stand that later becomes a secret affair – or masterpiece of literature – all the poets and great writers ran so Doni could walk.

This is my favorite fic of all times, forever! I read and re-read it so much that I can’t even count how many times I’ve had read it, it’s my 100% comfort fic. Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope, and the way @morning-star-joy developed here it’s perfection in the most pure way.

It’s Joel on his Jackson era and it’s a perfect character development from both sides, how to people who prefer to deal things on their own learn to rely on someone else.

I also highly recommend But you know the killer doesn't understand, which it’s on-going Joel x fem! Reader also post-Outbreak in Jackson, but it’s different and addicting as ASHWAH.

A Lover’s Pinch (on-going)

Summary: a one night stand (do I have a pattern?) at the bar turns to be so much more when you discover that your fling it’s your professor at university.

The professor x student trope might be cliché for some, and by the very brief summary that I wrote above may sound like Pretty Little Liars, but @hier--soir works with those elements and creates something beyond amazing, it is like contemplate a work of art at a museum, but much better.

I’m very much obsessed with this story, that’s why I reread it with more and more frequency.

Can’t even mention the references in this story – it’s truly enriching, it makes all better, truly.

Plus: the playlist it’s amazing!!!!

Short Days, Long Nights (on-going)

Summary: Remnants of a band travelers, you and Joel find a cabin in the woods - what would be the problem with staying?

I’m crazy about this one, it’s my true love and it had 3 or 4 chapters when I started and now we’re heading to chapter 17, blessed be @frannyzooey for sustaining us with this preciosity for so long.

I'm a sucker for when there's one character (Joel) reluctant for his feelings, and if the story was only about this, I would be perfectly glad too with, too. BUT Kelli it's a genius, an amazing writer, giving me all that I didn't even knew I wanted.

It's fluff, with smut from the highest quality - with some tense moments, wich turns everything more addicting.

A Safe Haven (on-going)

Summary: Joel's quickly drawn to the vet of Jackson - even knowing she's married. Will this affair thrive? Or there's more underneath of the vet's story? (Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry for this lame summary, but I refuse to copy from your masterlist and I’m also rushing to finishing this rec today).

I was bought on the infidelity trope and the drama that comes with it. It would still be a nice story, but @joelsgreys it’s so much fucking talented that she wrote the most beautiful thing ever!

It has tooth roting fluff, drenching panties smut and heartstopping angst! All perfectly written and balanced.

I also love how Ellie it's also a crucial character for the couple's history and I really adore how she's attached to Peach.

Special mention to Fall Into Temptation and Strawberry, that lived rent free in my mind since I've read those.

Seams (on-going)

Summary: Joel pays visit to Jackson's seamstress after a trouble with his too-tight jeans – and it's only heaven from that on, won't say more.

Now I call @fuckyeahdindjarin ✨Queen of the Build Up✨ and that's because the way Cee builds up the sexual tension between characters it's undescribable.

Cee is such an excellent writer, not only in Seams but on other stories too she's gives a rich description of details that makes the reading flow better, it's like knowing you looking at gem stone.

Breakout (complete)

Summary: Boxer!Joel AU when he has to train a fuckboy who happens to date a sweet little thing.

Well I'm a fan from @the-ginger-hedge-witch for a while, she wrote one of the best Javier Peña fics ever (which turned into a book and that's fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!) and other amazing stories, but this one got me hooked so bad.

Clearly I have a pattern because I LOVE when there is an obstacle for the characters to stay together, in this case, a relationship (I already spoiled that her boyfriend sucks, but I don't think it's spoils the story development) and Ren just atests she's a wonderful writer - now book writer, blessed be her 🙏🏻

And the idea of Joel using his fists it's already apealing, am I right?

I also recommend Friendly Fire, that I love just for knowing that in this, Ren envisioned an Aries character for reader - but also the premise of the story is great, too.

In The Woods Somewhere (complete)

Summary: living alone in a cabin at the apocalypse gets less dull when a teenager appears with a handsome injured man.

I've read this since a while, but it marked me. @eupheme created such tenderness between the characters - they know he and Ellie can't stay, which makes the affair even more apealling.

I’ll know It when I see it (on-going)

Summary: Joel as a porn star in its golden era who meets Lucky, a rising star in porn - chemestry goes beyond the cameras.

@bageldaddy deserves all the shout out forever because this here it's golden. They're both are porn stars and I could be hot just for this, but of course there's feelings involved - and the way they struggle to fight against these it's what makes this story even more perfect. Shout out to the one shot Sundown, as well, it’s completely wonderful.

Something wretched about this (complete)

Summary: Joel Miller it's a self appointed pharmacist in the QZ, and fucks you when you don't have how to pay for your father's medicine

Whoring yourself for meds sounds bad? In this story it's hot af! It's filthy, each chapter explores different sexual practices and it's THE. BEST. THING. IN. THE. WORLD!!!

@covetyou it's the most blessed being for writing a perfection like this, seriously. I loved every single chapter of this, loved Joel being an asshole and a slut. I can't tell enough how much joy this story has brought me. And lo it's better than Santa, because she provides christmas gifts for the nice and naughty, with Freeze-thaw (smut with fluff) and Baubles (smut with FILTH) - I can't die before I try the balldo, I didn't even knew this, didn't think that this could be possible - but happily it is, and this one shot it's perfect in every aspect.

Take Care of You (on-going)

Summary: Joel it's a sugar daddy in this AU and appears in your life to make all better 👀 He doesn't charges for the sexual part of the arrangement, but he's irresistible - so what will you do?

The ideia of a sugar daddy it's extremely appealing to me because that's all I wanted, you know? Some rich hot guy telling me I don't need to work and paying everything to me - that's living! Okay jk, but I started reading this when things caught up badly at work, so it was a sweet refuge.

@theidiotwhowritesthings it's the perfect writer! It's the perfect slow burn that makes you thirst for more and more!

Apothecary (complete)

Summary: Summary: Joel falls in love with the "witch" from Jackson and it has its perks and struggles.

I LOVE Practical Magic, it's one of my favorites witch movies so to read something inspired on that it's great -but @atinylittlepain it's such a wonderful, talented, amazing writer - so we were all blessed with this masterpiece.

It has fluff, angst, smut - stupid people being scared about what they don't understand and etc. It's very sweet, Joel also doesn't understands about her, but can't help being drawn. And Ellie it's a natural, their relationship here, how they grow to be a family ... it's utterly sweet. Special mention to Only Lovers Left Alive (another movie that I LOVE), The Heyloft and the masterpiece Down to The Ankles (it's perfection and it's inspired in Bones and All, other film that I truly love).

Come home (on-going)

Summary: when you've lost everything and everyone, you reach to Jackson - and meets a ruggedly handsome who you can't help being drawn to.

I've read this for a while, as well, but I still think about this story often. It's a slow burn - which I love (in case you haven't noticed from the stories listed above) - and it's so sweet, the blossom of a friendship that turns to more, their relationship with Ellie ... It's been a while since it was uptaded and I hope @imtryingmybeskar it's okay, because this story it's lovely and I really wish to see and ending for them.

Catalyst

I'm gonna just summarize that it's a threesome with Joel and Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, that's it - if that ain't reason enough for you to read, idk man.

I didn't even knew that I wanted it, that I needed it - until I read it. I find threesomes hot af, but I don't tend to enjoy when it's with characters that I love too deeply - don't ask me why - but in THIS ONE, GOD FUCKING DAAAAAMN!

It has filth, of course, but there's also fluff - which I find inevitable when it's about Frankie. In the chapter Here, especially, @ezrasbirdie builds perfectly of the struggles that I imagine for a threeway relationship, reading it was sad, hot and lovely.

Hope all the links work, 'cause I don't have time to check now 🙃

Sorry if my comments felt weird, if I forgot to mention something, as I've said above, I intend to make a part 2 of recs someday soon (hopefully).

I wish everyone a happy new year 🎆🥂🎇

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markiemelon · 1 year ago

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hii! i just found out about your blog! i wanted to request something but i also wanted to compliment your work! you have the writing style that pulls me in so that i really read the story word for word (most of the time i just skim through the entire fic to just get to the ending lol) so thank you for existing and writing these stories. they feel like a big hug! keep up the good work, i will definetly read your work in the future and catch up on your other work that i havent gotten to yet!

as for my request haha, i was wondering if you could write for jeno? im a sucker for soft jeno, but i cant really find anything that isnt wayyy too cringey. tbh soft jeno is very rare i feel like *sobs*

like, jeno is a really cold boyfriend who doesnt really show his affection, and even when he does, he doesnt admit it. for example, when he prepares a gift for you, he puts it in a place where a lot of people can access, so that you dont know that its him. haha and then when you ask him abt it, he pretends he has no idea what ur talking abt.

the only time that jeno is soft and cuddly is when ur abt to sleep or when hes sleepy.

can u js write abt jeno being exceptionally cuddly one day in bed, and the reader is really surprised?

also maybe jeno confesses abt sweet things hes done for reader in the past?

if ur not interested, please ignore! i know i wrote a lot haha, sorry.

bye!

@dungiewungie you are the sweetest. im so flattered. thank you for reading my stories!!!! thank youuu!!! so much!!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

——————————————(.◜◡◝)——————————————

pillows

——————————————(.◜◡◝)——————————————

☆ genre. flufffff + no warnings

☆ pairings. jeno x gn!reader

{11:55 pm ~ ♡}

you and jeno didn’t live together, but somehow he always found a way back to your place. he loved staying with you. he loved the way that the pillows smelled of your shampoo and how your perfume lingered on the silky sheets…

side by side, you and jeno lied in your bed, heads sunken into your pillows.

“yn, why do you have so many pillows? we can barely fit on this bed.”

he was right, you did have way too many pillows, but you liked piling them up and burring yourself to feel cozy.

he tried to throw some off to the side of the bed but you wouldn’t let him. “noo. i need all of them.”

jeno rolled his eyes and pretended to act annoyed. he shuffled around a bit to get comfortable despite drowning in the fluffiness around him. the two of you lied in silence for a moment.

“talk to me.” he said.

“talk to you?” you answered.

“yeah. it helps me sleep.” his voice was quiet.

your lips stretched past your teeth as you thought of all the things you could talk to jeno about. you figured now would be the perfect time to confront him about something since he couldn’t really go anywhere...

“remember that time you got jealous when my secret admirer sent me flowers?”

“yeah… “ he said shyly. “also..i gave you those flowers.” he confessed, a bit hesitantly. “that was before we started dating so i was kind of embarrassed.” jeno rubbed the nape of his neck.

he avoided looking at you; he was just too flustered to.

hearing that made your cheeks light up. “jenooooooo!” you wanted to give him the biggest hug, but you knew he hated your cuteness aggression. so you just told him how adorable he was, and went back to drifting off to sleep…

“yn. come here.”

your head perked up as you gladly placed yourself the closest you could to jeno while still lying side-by-side.

“no” he said, “here.”

jeno put his arm around your back, and pulled your head to rest on top of his chest. “i meant here.”

you didn’t say anything, you just giggled to yourself as you thought about how funny it was that out of all the pillows you had to choose from, he was the softest one.

thank you thank youuu for requesting! i haven’t had much time to write so I’m sorry this took soooo long. i really hope you like it ♡

-🍉

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thetarotwitch111 · 5 months ago

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Beetlejuice's advice - Pick a beetlejuice (Pick a card)

Happy Friday the 13th! 👻

✨help me keep doing the free pacs: tip jar

✨ personal readings - [requests open]

Good luck with Beetlejuice sweet advice...

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

Beetlejuice

Well, well, well! You’ve gone and picked this pile, huh? You must be ready to get wild! And I mean wild, baby! Here’s the deal: You’ve been holding back, trying to play it cool, but I can smell it on ya! you’re bursting to break free and let your instincts take over. Right now, life’s been a bit too tame, hasn’t it? Like a boring old dinner party with those dull folks in the afterlife. You know what I’m talking about!

It’s time to unleash that primal side of yours. Stop thinking, start acting! You’ve got this fire in you that’s been waiting to come out, so let it roar! Whether it’s chasing after a passion, saying what you really think, or just shaking things up, now’s your moment to own it. Don’t worry about making a mess. Look at me, I’m the king of messes, and it works out just fine! You wanna go after something? Do it! You’ve got the instincts of a predator, so go ahead and pounce.

Life’s too short to play by the rules, and you know what? Rules are for suckers! Break ‘em, make some noise, and watch how everything around you changes when you’re the one calling the shots. After all, it’s showtime, baby!

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

2. Beetlejuice

Oooh, look at you, picking this one. I can smell the love vibes from here! Someone’s looking for connection, huh? Whether it’s romance, friendship, or just some human contact, you’re in the mood for something deeper. And guess what? It’s coming your way faster than you can say Beetlejuice 3 times!

Right now, you’ve been feeling like something’s missing. You want more than the usual small talk and surface-level stuff. Well, here’s a little secret...when you let your guard down, the real magic happens! Show people that squishy center of yours, even if it makes you feel a little awkward. Hey, if I can try to marry a living one, then you can take a risk on love, right? Open yourself up, let people see the real you, and boom! You’ll attract the kind of connection that’ll make you feel alive again.

Whether it’s a deep friendship, a romantic spark, or just more fun, you’re gonna feel that spark light up soon. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone who loves a little chaos, just like me. So how about it? Any plans for a wedding soon? I’ve been trying to get hitched for a long time, but you…you’re a catch. Just saying.

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

3. Beetlejuice

Ahh, you’re one of the deep thinkers, aren’t ya? I can tell. You’re not just here for the easy level stuff, no sir! You want the real deal! the big answers to those cosmic questions! And let me tell ya, you’re on the right track. You know what they say: I’m the ghost with the most, babe, and I see some serious mystery heading your way!

You’ve probably been feeling a little tug, haven’t you? Something’s been calling you to dive deeper, whether it’s a gut feeling, a dream, or just that weird sense that there’s more going on than meets the eye. Well, spoiler alert: You’re right! You’re getting ready to tap into something big, and it’s gonna blow your mind. The universe is trying to show you the secret behind the curtain, and you’ve got front-row seats to the show!

So what’s next? Start paying attention. The signs are there! those strange little synchronicities, those moments that make you go, WTF. Yeah, that’s the universe talking to ya. Don’t ignore it! Follow the breadcrumbs, trust your gut, and dive headfirst into the unknown. You’re about to discover something big that’s gonna shake up how you see the world. And let me tell ya, it’s gonna be a ride you’ll never forget. Just remember: You’re dealing with a professional here!

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movingmusically · 4 months ago

Text

Caught Feeling - Chapter 4

Synopsis:

A quiet evening together strengthens the bond between y/n and Hank, but when their bowling date takes an unexpected turn and ends at the hospital, y/n realises their growing connection may be more unpredictable than she imagined.

Word Count: 5,434

Masterlist

After dinner, we were both too full to move, lounging on the couch with the remnants of takeout scattered on the coffee table. I reached for the remote, scrolling through the endless list of movie options while Hank stretched out beside me, his leg brushing lightly against mine as he settled in, looking completely at ease.

“You really want to watch that?” I teased, pausing on an old action flick that looked like it hadn’t aged well, judging by the grainy cover and outdated tagline.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Hank grinned. “You’d be surprised how much heart these movies have.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Right. ‘Heart’ hidden under explosions and cheesy one-liners?”

“Exactly,” he said, giving me a playful nudge with his knee. “The explosions are just a bonus.”

I laughed, sinking a little deeper into the cushions. “Fine, I’ll let you pick next time. But tonight, we’re watching something with an actual plot.”

As I scrolled through more titles, Hank leaned in slightly, his hand lightly grazing my knee. “Alright, I’ll bite. What kind of movies are you into? Aside from ‘actual plot,’ of course.”

I grinned, feeling comfortable enough to reveal just how varied my tastes were. “I love Horror, Thriller, Fantasy… but I’m a sucker for a good Comedy too. And every once in a while, I’ll go for a Romance or Drama.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re into Horror and Comedies? You’ve got range.”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, smirking. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you for a Horror fan.”

“Oh, I love them,” I said, grinning. “The scarier, the better. But Thrillers? That’s my sweet spot. I love the suspense, the tension—it’s addictive.”

“Interesting,” he said, clearly impressed. “I’m more of an Action and Comedy guy, but I don’t mind the occasional Romance. Gotta mix it up sometimes.”

“Sure, sure,” I teased. “I bet your idea of ‘mixing it up’ still involves a lot of car chases and shootouts.”

Hank laughed, nudging me gently. “Maybe. What about all-time favourites? If you had to pick your top three.”

“That’s tough,” I said, pausing for a moment. “But I’d say Jurassic Park, Jaws, and Lord of the Rings. Those are classics I could watch over and over.”

He nodded in approval. “Solid choices. I respect that. I’m more into Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, though.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “OK, important question for you.” I leaned closer, a playful challenge in my tone. “Would you say that Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

His grin turned mischievous. “No, it just happens to take place at Christmas.”

I gasped, pretending to be scandalised. “How dare you? Die Hard is definitely a Christmas movie!”

Hank looked amused. “Just because it’s set at Christmas doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.”

“Yes, it does!” I shot back. “Bruce Willis saves Christmas, Hank. It doesn’t get more Christmas than that.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

“I’ll convince you one day,” I said, grinning back.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he teased. I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips.

He leaned in a little closer, eyes still gleaming with amusement. “So, what else do you love that I should know about?”

“I’ve got a soft spot for war and gangster movies too,” I said, enjoying his reaction.

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That I didn’t see coming.”

I smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, Goodfellas is one of my favourites. I watched it with my Mum and Dad growing up.”

“Goodfellas?” he repeated, clearly impressed. “That’s a bold pick. You’ve got taste.”

“Bold, but true,” I said. “And my Dad? Total Arnold Schwarzenegger fan. We used to have movie marathons—Terminator, Predator… you name it.”

“You’re full of surprises,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I never would’ve guessed.”

I shrugged with a small smile. “I’ve got layers.”

He glanced at the remote, then back at me. “Well, since you’re already a fan of Die Hard, I think we’ve found our movie for tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Fine. But only because it’s my favourite Christmas movie.”

“Exactly,” Hank said with a wink as he hit play.

As the familiar opening sequence of Die Hard rolled across the screen, I sank back into the couch, resting my head on Hank’s shoulder. His arm slid comfortably around me, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as we settled in. It felt easy being close to him, like this was something we’d done a thousand times before, even though it was still new.

Halfway through the movie, between Bruce Willis’ quips and the explosions on-screen, Hank shifted slightly, his voice low as he spoke.

“You know, we should do something fun this weekend,” Hank said casually, his voice soft against the low hum of the TV. He was playing with a loose strand of my hair, and his relaxed tone made the idea sound spontaneous, like he’d just thought of it in the moment.

I tilted my head up to look at him, intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

He shrugged, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe go see a movie? Or we could do something active… like bowling.”

I grinned at the suggestion, instantly imagining the disaster that would follow. “Bowling? I should warn you—I’m not just bad, I’m the worst. Ever.”

Hank’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Worst ever, huh? I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really. I’m talking gutter balls. Every. Single. Time.”

He raised an eyebrow, the challenge clearly sparking something in him. “Well, now I have to take you. I’ll teach you how it’s done.”

I let out a laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, I see. You want to show off?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You got me. But come on, it’ll be fun. Worst-case scenario, you’re terrible, and I get to give you a hard time about it. Best-case scenario, you impress me.”

“I won’t,” I said, grinning. “But I’ll take you up on the challenge anyway. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he said confidently. “Besides, how bad could you really be?”

I shot him a mock glare. “You’re underestimating how bad I am. Like, genuinely embarrassing bad.”

Hank laughed, his chest vibrating beneath my head. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

I rolled my eyes, settling back into his side. “Well, when you’re done laughing at me, I’ll just kick back and let you win.”

“You’re not off the hook that easily,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss against my temple. “I’ll get you a strike by the end of the night. Even if I have to guide your hand.”

I laughed at the thought. “If you can do that, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “You better start thinking of which fancy restaurant you’re taking me to.”

I relaxed against him, already picturing the disastrous but fun night out. Hank’s enthusiasm for the challenge was contagious, and I couldn’t help but be excited, even though I knew I’d probably end up embarrassing myself. It struck me how easy it felt to make plans with him, like we’d been doing this for longer than just a few days.

Just as I was about to suggest another potential plan for the weekend, Hank’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He reached for it, glancing at the screen. His relaxed expression shifted ever so slightly—something that made his brow furrow for a split second before he quickly masked it.

“Everything okay?” I asked, lifting my head to study his face, curious but not overly concerned.

He sighed lightly, locking the screen and setting the phone back down on the table. “Yeah, it’s just work. They need me to cover a shift tonight.”

I could hear the subtle shift in his tone, a mix of frustration and responsibility. He clearly wasn’t thrilled about the idea of leaving, but I knew from the way his brows furrowed that he felt like he had to go.

“You don’t have to go, do you?” I asked softly, not wanting to sound needy but also not exactly ready for him to leave.

Hank leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “No, I don’t have to, but… they’re short tonight, and I know Yvonne’s been dealing with a lot of the busy shifts lately. I’d feel bad leaving her to handle it on her own.”

“Yvonne?” I asked.

He nodded, his expression still relaxed but distant. “Yeah, she works at the bar too. She’s been picking up a lot of shifts since one of the other guys quit. It’s been pretty hectic.”

I tried to keep my tone light, not wanting to pry too much. “Sounds like things are pretty crazy at work.”

“Yeah,” Hank said with a slight smile, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere now. “It’s been busy, but it’s manageable. I just didn’t expect to be called in tonight, especially since I was hoping to spend the night with you.”

There was a sincerity in his words that made my heart flutter, and I could tell he wasn’t just saying it to be polite. He genuinely wanted to stay, and for a moment, I considered telling him not to go. But I didn’t want to be the reason he felt guilty about leaving his coworkers hanging.

“Go,” I said, offering him a reassuring smile. “If they need you, you should go. We’ll have other nights.”

Hank met my gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like he was debating whether to argue. But then he smiled, soft and warm. “You sure?”

I nodded. “I’m sure. You can make it up to me this weekend.”

His eyes brightened at that. “Definitely,” he said, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Hank stood, stretching slightly before grabbing his phone and jacket, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer.

I stood too, and he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine before he lifted a hand to gently cup my face. Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was simple, unhurried, but full of warmth.

When he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, and I found myself smiling up at him, wishing the night didn’t have to end.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, his voice warm and steady. I smiled, standing there for a second longer. He stepped back reluctantly, and I followed him to the door, watching as he slipped on his shoes. It felt like we were both silently holding onto the night, neither of us wanting it to end. But reality had other plans, and before I knew it, he was opening the door, pausing to give me one last smile.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice carrying a promise of more moments like this.

“Goodnight, Hank,” I replied, my heart doing that little flutter it always seemed to do around him.

He left, the door closing softly behind him, and I stood there for a second, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, the absence of his presence leaving a hollow kind of stillness in the air. I sighed, turning back toward the couch. The movie was still playing, but my mind was far from it.

I flopped back onto the cushions, staring at the screen but not really paying attention. My thoughts drifted to Hank, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the future, even if it was just about something as simple as bowling.

And then there was that text from Yvonne. It wasn’t a big deal. Work was work, after all. Hank had a job, and I knew what the service industry was like—unpredictable hours, people needing shifts covered last minute. I shook my head, brushing the thought away. There was no point in overthinking it. He was just doing his job, nothing more.

Still, the flicker of disappointment lingered as I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. I glanced at my phone, half-hoping for a message from him already, but of course, there was nothing. He’d barely been gone for ten minutes.

I stretched out on the couch, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around me. As much as I wanted to distract myself, my thoughts kept circling back to Hank. The way he’d opened up to me tonight, the ease of our conversation, the comfortable silence that followed. It felt… real. Like we were building something more than just a casual fling.

I smiled to myself, hugging a cushion to my chest as I thought about the plans we’d made for the weekend. I was already looking forward to it.

The next day at work, I found myself replaying moments from last night more times than I cared to admit. Between patient check-ups and scribbling notes into charts, my mind kept drifting back to Hank. His smile, the way his hand had brushed against mine as we joked about Die Hard, and the playful challenge in his eyes when he suggested bowling.

I wasn’t used to feeling this… giddy. Like a teenager with a crush. But I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed it.

The next few days flew by, punctuated by Hank’s texts that never failed to bring a smile to my face. Each message was like a little nudge, reminding me of our budding connection and the easy banter that had become a highlight of my day.

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I was finishing up a routine exam on a tabby cat. I eagerly pulled it out, my heart lifting as I read his latest message.

Hey. Still ready for our little bowling disaster tomorrow? ;) I’ve already started looking up fancy restaurants for the victory dinner after I get you that strike.

I bit back a laugh, quickly typing out a reply as I stepped out of the exam room.

You’re really confident, huh? You think you can work miracles?

His reply came almost instantly.

Don’t worry, it’s not a miracle—just skill. See you tomorrow?

I smiled at my phone, excitement buzzing through me.

See you tomorrow.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket, the flutter of anticipation for tomorrow’s challenge made the rest of the workday feel like a breeze.

The day of our bowling date arrived with a sense of something imminent and thrilling. It felt like stepping into a scene I had replayed in my mind a thousand times, each replay slightly different from the last, anticipation building with each iteration.

I chose my outfit with more thought than usual, opting for comfort yet wanting to look good for whatever the evening might throw at us. Settling on a pair of well-fitting jeans and a soft, fluttery top that I knew flattered my figure, I left my hair down, hoping the curls would hold through the night.

By the time I got to the bowling alley, I was half-excited and half-dreading the inevitable disaster that was about to unfold.

Hank was already waiting by the entrance when I arrived, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw me. He was dressed casually, in a faded orange tee layered over a long-sleeve white shirt, paired with rugged green cargo pants—perfect for a laid-back evening but stylish enough to show he’d made an effort.

“Ready to embarrass yourself?” he asked, that familiar spark of challenge in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m warning you now—this is going to be bad. Like, really bad.”

Hank chuckled, slipping his arm around my waist as we headed inside. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you look good out there.”

The energy of the bowling alley hit us as soon as we walked through the doors. The clattering of pins echoed in the background, and the warm scent of fried food mingled with the polished wood of the lanes. Hank grabbed our shoes from the counter, handing mine over with a smirk.

“You’re about to witness true talent,” he teased, lacing up his bowling shoes. His eyes glinted with challenge, and I couldn’t help but feel the spark of competition light inside me, even though I knew I had zero chance of winning.

I raised an eyebrow as I slipped on my shoes. “Talent? We’ll see about that.”

We found a lane near the back where it was quieter, and Hank took his position, confidently selecting a ball like he was a pro. He rolled it effortlessly down the lane, and naturally, it was a strike. The pins crashed, and Hank turned to me with a cocky grin.

“Alright, show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, leaning casually against the ball return as I approached the lane.

I selected a ball, already feeling the weight of failure pressing down on me. With a deep breath, I gave it my best shot, releasing the ball with a prayer… and watched it veer straight into the gutter.

Hank let out a deep laugh that filled the air, and I turned back to face him with a sheepish smile. “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t kidding about being terrible.”

“You weren’t lying,” he teased, coming over to stand beside me. “But don’t worry, I’ll help you. I’m not just a bowling master; I’m also a teacher.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” I laughed.

He stood behind me, guiding my hands as I gripped the ball again. His hands settled on my shoulders as he adjusted my stance, his voice low as he murmured instructions. “Relax your shoulders. Focus on your target. Don’t overthink it.”

His proximity sent a shiver down my spine, but I managed to focus long enough to send the ball rolling down the lane. It teetered dangerously close to the gutter again but stayed just inside the line, knocking down a few pins.

“Hey, progress!” Hank cheered, high-fiving me. “Next time, we’ll get you that strike.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little thrill of victory. “At this rate, you’ll have me competing in leagues.”

We took turns after that, the lighthearted competition between us growing with each round. Hank was obviously better than me—every shot he took seemed effortless—but I wasn’t doing as badly as I’d expected.

Finally, after a few more rounds, it happened.

I rolled the ball, holding my breath as it glided smoothly down the lane. One by one, the pins toppled over, and before I even realised it, they were all down. I blinked, staring at the empty lane in disbelief.

“You did it!” Hank exclaimed, grabbing me around the waist and spinning me in the air, his excitement almost infectious.

I laughed, feeling a rush of triumph. “I actually did it!”

“You owe me dinner,” he said with a wide grin, setting me back down.

“Fair enough,” I replied, breathless but happy. “So, where are we going?”

His hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer before he pulled away. “It’s a surprise,” he said, “But I think you’ll like it.”

We grabbed our things, leaving the bowling alley behind as the excitement of the evening still buzzed between us. There was something about the ease of the night, the way we slipped into this playful, carefree rhythm with each other, that made it feel like we’d known each other forever.

Outside, the night greeted us with a soft breeze, the distant hum of the city filling the silence between us. Hank reached for my hand, his fingers lightly intertwining with mine. I glanced over at him, smiling as we strolled down the street together, curious about the mystery spot he had in mind for dinner.

We meandered through the city, the lively energy of the evening palpable as people dined and laughed around us. Hank’s steps seemed purposeful yet relaxed, and his hand felt warm in mine. As we approached a colourful, somewhat eclectic-looking place with a neon sign proclaiming “Lucky’s Brew & Q,” my curiosity piqued.

“This place is a bit of a local legend,” Hank said with a grin, pushing open the door to a buzz of activity and a mix of aromas that promised good food and a great time.

Inside, the decor was a vibrant collage of vintage signs, quirky artwork, and strings of lights that cast a cheerful glow over the wooden tables. The chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses added to the lively atmosphere, making it immediately welcoming.

“Lucky’s is famous for their craft beers and killer BBQ,” Hank explained as we found a spot at a rustic bar table. “It’s laid-back but always a lot of fun.”

The menu was a delight of comfort foods, featuring everything from spicy buffalo wings to loaded nachos and slow-cooked ribs. We ordered a pitcher of their house craft beer and a mix of finger foods to share, keeping the mood light and carefree.

As we sipped our beers, I took a moment to glance around the busy bar, noting it was a typical bustling Saturday night elsewhere in the city. Intrigued, I turned back to Hank. “So, it’s Saturday night and Lucky’s is packed. I’m surprised they didn’t need you at the bar tonight, especially since you mentioned being short-staffed.”

Hank nodded, his expression mingling gratitude with a hint of worry. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’re short-staffed since one of the bartenders quit. Yvonne’s been picking up a lot of slack, and normally, I would have had to help out.” He took a slow sip of his beer, his gaze lingering on the glass as he set it down. “But I talked to my manager Edwin earlier this week, made it clear I needed tonight off. Took a bit of negotiating and promising to cover some extra shifts next week.”

“That sounds tough, always having to balance things like that,” I said, my tone soft, empathetic to the strain such a situation must place on him.

“It’s part of the gig,” he shrugged slightly, but his smile returned quickly. “But it’s worth it, especially for nights like this.” His hand found mine across the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, his warmth reassuring.

“I’m glad you did. It’s been a great night,” I smiled, squeezing back, appreciating the effort he made to make our evening together possible.

The food was delicious—messy and rich with flavours. We challenged each other to try the spiciest wings, which led to a bout of playful competition as we raced for the cooling relief of our beers. The casual setting felt just right, allowing us to let our guards down and enjoy each other’s company without pretence.

As the evening wound down, the bar began to quiet, and the earlier energy settled into a comfortable hum. Hank glanced at me, a playful yet sincere expression on his face. “I hope this place hit the mark for our victory dinner.”

I laughed, wiping my hands on a napkin. “It was perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better evening.”

Hank’s smile deepened, and he reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I’m really glad to hear that. I wanted tonight to feel just right.”

We lingered a while longer at Lucky’s, finishing our drinks and talking about everything and nothing at all. The comfortable ease that had defined our evening was still there, but now it carried a little more weight—something unspoken hanging between us. Hank leaned back in his chair, his gaze soft yet intent as he looked at me across the table.

“You want to grab another drink somewhere? Or…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking to the door, then back to me. His voice softened as he added, “We could head back to my place, or yours. No pressure.”

The way he said it, so casual and sincere, made my stomach flip with both nerves and excitement. There wasn’t any expectation in his tone—just an invitation. The night had been perfect so far, and part of me wanted to keep it going, to see where this connection would take us.

I met his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary, weighing the options. The warmth of the bar, the low hum of conversation around us, and the slight buzz from the drinks all made me feel bold. “Your place sounds good,” I said, my voice steady even though my heart raced.

Hank’s smile widened, not quite a smirk, but something close. He stood up, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

We stepped outside, the sudden quiet almost jarring after the buzz of the bar. Hank’s hand was still holding mine as we walked, his thumb lightly tracing circles over my skin. The streets were quieter now, the occasional car passing by, but it felt like the city had slowed down just for us.

We were nearing Hank’s building when I heard a scuffling sound from farther down the street, followed by a gruff voice and the unmistakable thud of someone being shoved. I turned my head and saw two figures hunched over someone—an older man, who stumbled backward into a parked car.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, my steps slowing. Hank’s expression darkened instantly. His hand left mine as he picked up his pace, his entire body tensing. “Stay here,” he said firmly, but I didn’t.

As we approached, I got a better look at the scene. The man being pushed around looked dishevelled, his clothes worn and grimy, his face creased with age and weathered by something more. He was trying to stand upright, but it was clear he wasn’t in any shape to defend himself. The two younger men messing with him barely even glanced our way as we came closer, too focused on taunting the helpless man.

“Hey!” Hank shouted, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. The two men froze for a moment, then turned to face him, eyes narrowing. The taller of the two sneered, clearly unimpressed.

“Mind your business, man.”

“This is my business,” Hank said, stepping between the older man and the two younger guys. His voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Leave him alone.”

The second guy, wearing a ratty hoodie, raised his chin defiantly. “Or what?”

I felt my heart hammering in my chest. The last thing we needed was for this to turn into a fight, and Hank wasn’t exactly small, but these two guys looked like they were itching for trouble.

“Or you’re going to regret it,” Hank replied evenly, his posture unyielding. “Just walk away.”

For a moment, no one moved, and I felt my pulse quicken in the silence. But after a tense beat, the taller guy scoffed, nudging his friend. “Whatever, man. Let’s go.”

With one last glance at Hank, they slinked away into the shadows of the street, leaving the older man slumped against the car, groaning softly.

Hank immediately turned his attention to him, crouching down and gently placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Jason,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “You alright?”

I blinked, taking a step closer. “You know him?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Hank sighed, helping Jason stand upright, though the man was clearly struggling to stay on his feet. “He’s been around the block for years. Jason’s… he’s got a rough life. Drinks a lot, doesn’t really have anyone looking out for him.”

Jason mumbled something incoherent, his eyes glassy, and I could smell the alcohol on him from where I stood. He was in bad shape, bruised from the attack and barely able to hold himself up.

“He needs a hospital,” I said, glancing at Hank.

Hank nodded grimly. “Yeah, we need to get him checked out.”

I quickly pulled out my phone, calling for an Uber. “I’ll get us a ride,” I said as Hank shifted Jason’s weight onto his shoulder, steadying him as best as he could.

Within minutes, the car arrived, and with some effort, we managed to get Jason into the backseat. The driver shot us a wary look but didn’t say anything as we told him to head to the nearest hospital.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, the atmosphere heavy. Jason was slipping in and out of consciousness beside Hank, who kept a close eye on him, holding him upright. I sat in the front seat, casting glances back at them every so often, a knot of worry tightening in my chest.

When we arrived, Hank and I practically carried Jason inside, the nurses at the front desk immediately recognising the severity of the situation. A wheelchair was brought over, and they whisked him away without hesitation.

We found ourselves in the waiting area soon after, the harsh lights of the emergency room flickering overhead. Hank sat beside me, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. His face was tense, his mind clearly elsewhere.

I touched his arm gently. “You okay?”

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change much. “Yeah. I just… I hate seeing him like this,” Hank muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Jason’s been living on that block longer than I’ve been around. He’s harmless, but no one really looks after him. I try to keep an eye on him when I can, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I should’ve done more.”

“You’re doing what you can,” I said softly. “You helped him tonight. If you hadn’t been there… I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened.”

Hank let out a long sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “I guess. It’s just… it’s tough seeing someone like that. It feels like the whole world’s forgotten about him.”

We sat in silence for a while after that, the hum of the hospital around us filling the quiet. Eventually, a nurse came over to let us know that Jason was stable, but that his condition was a result of years of heavy drinking. They were going to admit him for observation, but it wasn’t his first time here, and it wouldn’t likely be his last.

Hank thanked the nurse, but I could see the worry still etched into his face as we stepped back outside. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the hospital.

“Do you want to head back to my place?” Hank asked quietly after a moment, his voice subdued.

I thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The ride back to Hank’s was quiet, the earlier buzz of the night replaced by a heavy calm. By the time we got to his apartment, the exhaustion from the night had settled in. Hank unlocked the door, pushing it open, and I followed him inside, both of us moving quietly, still processing everything that had happened.

I sat down on the couch, letting out a long breath as the weight of the evening finally settled over me. Hank disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of water.

“Thanks,” I said softly as he handed me one. He sat down beside me, leaning back, his hand finding mine again.

“I’m really glad you were with me tonight,” he said quietly after a few moments of silence. “It… it made everything easier.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad I was there too.”

We stayed like that for a while, the quiet between us comfortable, almost soothing. After everything, there wasn’t much else to say. Eventually, Hank’s arm slipped around my shoulders, pulling me close until we were lying together on the couch, the weight of the night slowly giving way to a shared sense of calm.

And even though the night had taken an unexpected turn, being here with him felt exactly where I was meant to be.

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