#I���ll still feel my heart race when you message me and get so excited to talk to you every day

[1dfangirls35]

Voir Dire- N.H

A fake dating AU about contracts, soulmates and risking it all for love.

Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think!

A/N: I’m back!! The past month and a half has been craziness! My ER rotation had me working ALL THE TIME. But now thanks to coronavirus, my rotations have been cancelled at least for the next three weeks (maybe longer) and now we get the stress of wondering if we will get to graduate in December. So for the next few weeks I’ll be listening to Heartbreak Weather on repeat and (hopefully) updating Voir Dire!

sixteen

Kelsey checked the time. Again. The numbers glared at her from the brightness of her phone screen. 

3:01pm

The results were supposed to be sent out at 3.

Did she not get registered? Had they lost her test? Had she given them the wrong email? Kelsey's mind was racing through a million reasons as to why her LSAT score wasn't coming through her inbox at this precise moment.

Two weeks ago, Kelsey had sat in front of a computer with a hope of redeeming herself. Unlike the first time she'd taken the LSAT, this time she had been calm and collected. She had started the morning off with breakfast in bed and a large cup of coffee courtesy of Chef Niall, himself. He'd walked her to the door as she left his house, holding her in his arms and whispering in her ear "You've got this". And that morning she did. She felt like she had it.

But as another minute ticked by on the clock, she began to doubt that she'd "got this" all over again.

Kelsey refreshed the page again. Still nothing.

"Refreshing that page fifty million times isn't going to make it load any faster darling," Niall said sternly, placing his head into Kelsey's shoulder a little further. Kelsey had told Niall several times that there was no need for him to be with her when the results came in. She could handle the relief or disappointment all on her own. But then he reminded her that she'd been with him on his big night, the least he could do was return the favor, and he "didn't even have to change out of the sweats" for it. And she had to admit, leaning against Niall's chest as she refreshed the page for the tenth time was kind of nice.

"They should be up by now, it's..." Kelsey watched her screen refresh once more, this time a new email popping up. "Oh my god it's here." She felt her heart begin to race, and shoved the phone into Niall's hands. "Open it."

"It's your score, you should open it," Niall argued back, trying to push the phone back into Kelsey's grasp.

She shook her head adamantly. "I can't do it Ni, please." Niall looked at Kelsey's pleading eyes, they are filled with a fear he hasn't seen across them in a while.

He knew she was nervous. She'd worked so hard for this over the past year. He had tried his best this morning to rehearse what he was going to say if it all went south. He hoped it wouldn't. And as stood in front of his mirror, coming up with all the wonderful things that he hoped would make Kelsey realize she was so much more than a test score, he realized how silly it all was. Because she was going to pass. There wasn't a doubt in his mind.

He sighed. "Fine." He clicked open the message, taking his own deep breath before reading.

Kelsey tried to read Niall's eyes as he opens the email. But he kept his poker face strong, which only antagonized her more. "Well?" she asked.

Niall raised an eyebrow with a smirk as he watched Kelsey squirm in her seat on the couch. "172, that's great Kels!"

"172," Kelsey repeated slowly, hardly believing her ears. "Are you sure you read that right? It's not like a 127 or something?"

"Kels," Niall said, bringing the phone in front of Kelsey's face. "It's a 172. You killed it."

Kelsey read the numbers for herself, seeing that Niall was indeed correct. "I'm going to law school," Kelsey breathed.

"You're going to law school Kels. I never doubted it for a minute." He planted a kiss on her forehead, wrapping his arms around her in an almost smuggling embrace.

"I did it. I DID IT," the volume of Kelsey's voice raises with each word she said. She stood up from her place on the couch, pacing circles in the living room. She didn't know what to feel. Relief? Excitement? Pride? A mixture of the three?

Kelsey knew it might seem premature, celebrating a test score when the actual admission was yet to come, but she also couldn't help but feel like she'd overcome the biggest barrier. A barrier that had plagued her for over a year, reminding her of all the things she'd been through and just how fragile her life had been. She had doubted herself so much over the past year, her self-confidence had vanished, and this- this score, was proving to her that she wasn't a failure. Her life wasn't a complete mess. And maybe she was coming out of a valley. Maybe she could be at a peak for a while.

"We've got to celebrate," Niall exclaimed, breaking Kelsey away  from her thoughts.

"I've got a bottle of wine in the fridge I've been saving. And I guess Becca has a bag of peanut M &Ms..."

Niall stood up next to Kelsey, placing a finger to her lips before she can even finish her sentence. "Forget the wine and the M&Ms darlin', what's the one thing you want to reward yourself with at the moment?"

"Honestly I could go for some chocolate ice cream. I can text Becca and have her pick some up on her way home..."

"Well let's go get ice cream then," Niall stated. 

Kelsey looked at Niall cautiously, because she couldn't have possibly heard him correctly. "Go get it? Niall you know we can't be seen."

"We can drive through and pick it up can't we? Or I can get out of the car?"

Kelsey gave Niall a questioning look, still unsure of this suggestion. Of all the things to go out in public to do, this seemed like the least important thing on the list. But Niall is unwavering, pulling out his keys from his pocket and dangling them in his hands like a treat. 

"This is a special occasion Kelsey. I don't care what you say we are going to get that ice cream. Twenty minutes there and back. No one will be the wiser."

Kelsey sighed, knowing that this was one thing that Niall wasn't going to change his mind about. She reached out and grabbed his hand, following him to the door. She locked the apartment behind them, as Niall headed down the elevator to grab the car. 

Kelsey couldn't tell if she was high on excitement because of her LSAT or because she was riding in the passenger seat of Niall's car for the first time since they had "broke up" in the eyes of the label. No longer hidden behind the blacked out rear windows of a sleek black escalade, Kelsey felt on top of the world. Nothing could be better than her hand intertwined with Niall's as the LA sunshine warmed them through the windows and Niall's album played softly in the background. 

Kelsey began to wonder what she had worried about when they pulled up to the ice cream drive-thru. There are no other cars in sight, and no one paid a second glance to the messy haired brunette with the thick sunglasses pulling up to the window. Niall ordered a hot fudge sundae with extra fudge, Kelsey a chocolate malt with Reese's. 

"Mmmm," Kelsey said taking a bite out of her treat. "This was a good choice."

"Told you to just trust me," Niall smiled, setting his cup in the center console as they pulled away. 

"I'm so proud of you," Niall said, gazing at Kelsey in a way that made her heart flutter. 

Kelsey smiled. She was pretty damn proud of herself too. 

************************************************

The second Kelsey saw the email from Mr. Alan Michaels she knew they were in trouble. There was no subject, but somehow without even opening it, Kelsey knew exactly what it was going to contain.

The contents were simple.

Miss Benton,

If you know what's good for him, you'll meet with me tomorrow at 10 am sharp. I trust you''ll keep this meeting to yourself. I would hate for another party to become involved and complicate our resolution.

Sincerely,

Alan Michaels 

There was one attachment. But Kelsey didn't need to click the image to know what they'd been caught doing. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't been craving ice cream yesterday after all.

"What's wrong love?" Niall asked, as Kelsey quickly exited out of the message. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Nothing," Kelsey said, trying her best to form a fake smile and grabbing his hand again. "Now tell me more about this set design."

Niall began rambling on. About lights, guitars, set lists and which songs he was most excited to play live. But all Kelsey could think about was the email sitting in her inbox. 

Her mind began to race with all the things that this could mean. What exactly could his label do? Niall had warned her once before that the music industry could be a brutal environment. She knew that there were consequences to every action, consequences that could ruin careers if certain rules or agreements weren't followed. 

Kelsey wanted to believe that she wasn't scared of these people. She wasn't in a contract with them, and therefore, she had no obligation to even entertain the idea of meeting with them. She owed them nothing. And she certainly did have to play by their rules. 

She thought about showing the message to Niall. But each time she went to bring it up, something stopped her. She knew what that something was.

Niall would take the fall. He would risk the loss of his music, his tour, his livelihood, all for Kelsey. Kelsey knew it. But she wasn't going to allow that to happen. She wouldn't allow him to sacrifice what he had worked so hard on, the career that he so loved- for her. 

"Kels," Niall nudged her his elbow at Kelsey, whose gaze was fixated on the corner of the room. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Kelsey replied quickly, snapping her gaze back to Niall and shooting him a smile. "Just tired." She rested her head on Niall's shoulder. 

"You sure you're okay?" Niall asked again. Kelsey had been acting off over the past few hours, and he couldn't figure out why. She wasn't the best at hiding her racing thoughts. 

Kelsey turned, placing her hands on either side of Niall's cheeks and staring into his icy blue eyes. "Niall, I'm great. I've got the LSAT score of my dreams and an incredible man who I love more than anything and who loves me. What more could I need?"

"I love you," Niall replied, planting a kiss on Kelsey's lips.

"It's just been a long week for me. A good week but a long one," Kelsey mused as she snuggled deep into Niall's arms. She inhaled deeply, basking in musky, cool scent of Niall's cologne. She didn't want to think about what their relationship might look like if she attended the meeting tomorrow. Or what it might look like if she didn't. 

When Kelsey got back to her apartment later that evening, she poured herself the biggest glass of wine she could find. Kelsey knew Niall had found it odd that she was leaving his house so early in the evening, but she brushed it off as needing some rest. She couldn't bear to tell him the truth: that every minute she sat in his apartment her anxiety about just what would happen at the meeting tomorrow was growing exponentially. 

Kelsey tipped back her glass of Moscato, gulping it down like a housewife at a dinner party gone awry. Becca walks into the kitchen at that precise moment, giving Kelsey a side-eyed smile. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kelsey answered quickly. The word was slipping off her tongue easier the more times she said it. 

The email had been explicit: no outside parties. Plus Kelsey already knew what Becca would say. Becca ask why Niall was even considering negotiating with the label when he had the power of his fanbase and the media to shift the story. A story of forbidden love? According to Becca, people eat that shit up. 

"Hmm let's see," Becca scratched her forehead, leaning over the kitchen countertop. "You're back from Niall's before 10pm, you are chugging a glass of wine like its a magic elixir, and you keep glancing at your phone like its going to jump out at you. There's a lot more than nothing going on, so pour me a glass and spill."

Kelsey sighed, grabbing another glass from the cupboard and pouring Becca a glass and herself a refill. She clicked open her phone to the email and slid it across the counter to Becca, watching as Becca's face turns from a sly grin to a face of concern.

"Well for starters, Niall needs a new agent," Becca said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "But this is messed up Kels. Seems like more of a threat than a suggestion."

"More like blackmail," Kelsey replies with a roll of her eyes. She makes her way into the living room, sliding down onto the couch before taking another lengthy sip of her wine. 

"What did Niall say about this?"

Kelsey stayed quiet.

"Kelsey..." Becca stared her down. "You didn't mention this to him?"

"The message didn't exactly sound like they wanted him to know about it."

"And so you thought he didn't need to know that his label is basically blackmailing you to break up with him?" Becca responded. 

"Niall," Kelsey began, taking a deep breath. "Niall thinks with his heart. I didn't want to tell him and have him make a rash decision based on what he was feeling. Especially with something like his career."

"But you don't even know what they want Kels," Becca argued. 

"I'm pretty sure what they want is for me to not see Niall anymore. They made that very clear the first time we met with them." Kelsey's mind flashed back to the last time she visited the Capitol Records office. It wasn't a memory she looked back upon fondly. Her heart raced just thinking about being in that situation again.

"Are you going to meet with them this time?" Becca asked.

"I think that whatever they tell me at that meeting has to be a far better alternative than if I ignore the meeting in the first place."

"What's the worst thing they can do to you Kels? Being in love with their musician isn't illegal," Becca reassured. "Besides, Niall already released his music. He's a former member of One Direction, no one's gonna pass up on the opportunity to sign that moneymaker to their label."

Becca had a point. The worst Capitol Records could do to Kelsey was a slap on the wrist and a warning that she shouldn't see Niall again. A lot of bad things could happen to Niall because of this, a cancelled tour, a loss of his contract...but maybe none of that was career-altering. For a moment, Kelsey thought that she's made up her mind. That maybe going to this meeting was doing exactly what Capitol wanted her to do. They wanted her to be scared into being their pawn.

But then Kelsey remembered what Niall told her back in the beginning. About the music industry be far more connected than you would think. About being blacklisted from every record label in the country. She thought about Niall sitting on his couch strumming his guitar to a melody that had just surfaced in his mind. Or the way his blue eyes glowed when he told her about the feeling he got hearing an amphitheater full of people singing the words he wrote back to him. 

Becca could tell Kelsey was still deep in thought, and so she stood, walking to the kitchen and placing her now empty glass in the sink. "Whatever you decide Kels, I'm here, okay." Becca walked towards her room. As she reached the doorway, she turned around, meeting eyes with Kelsey again. "Besides now they have to come after both of us."

Becca's comment turned Kelsey's lips into a small smile, even if just for a moment. Kelsey made her way to her bedroom, sliding under the grey comforter and burying her head into her pillow. Her mind racing with a million thoughts.

She loved Niall. More than she had ever loved anyone before. The selfish thing would be to not go to the meeting. To be defiant and keep Niall to herself. But the world needed Niall Horan and his music. And Niall Horan needed his music more than he would ever need Kelsey, even if he didn't know it. 

So she would go to the meeting. And she would listen to the terms. And if it came down to dating Niall and his music career, well, she would pick his career. Because he wasn't going to pick it for himself.

As she lay in bed, her phone buzzed with another notification: an email. 

Tomorrow. 10 am sharp.

Tag List: @awomanindeniall​ @ihearthemcallingforyou @niall-is-my-dream​ @stylishmuser​ @thicksniall

[laceymorganwrites]

Prom date

Word Count: 2,641

Pairing: Tamaki x reader

Warnings: bullying, cursing

You can do this, you thought to yourself as you entered the big entrance hall of UA. You would be a hero! They would see!

You were going to do a test to see who really fits in UA, you were supposed to do an obstacle race. You were good at that, you were good at dodging things and running away.

You ignored the others and gave it your all as you dashed through the race and finished first.

Next you had lessons.

“Good morning...welcome to UA. We will determine if you really belong here in doing another little test. The one with the lowest points will be excluded from UA. We´ll meet outside on the tracking field after the break” your teacher let you know.

You barely found the way to the cafeteria, this school was too big… you received a text message from your parents saying they were proud of you and that you would make it if you did your best, which was just what you were gonna do.

As you got your food you spotted an empty table and made your way to it to avoid people.

Some girls you didn´t know told you you could sit with them, but you politely declined.

You especially tried to avoid people from your old school, but there they were, blocking your path.

You sighed, what was going to happen next.

You kept my head down and started shivering. “How did you finish first? Did ya cheat? Which teacher did your parents pay, huh?” one guy roughly grabbed you by the chin to force you to look up to him.

You frowned, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Hey, congratulations to making first place!” some other guy came up behind you and touched your shoulder, making you jump. He was taller than the one from your old school.

He was accompanied by another boy who also held his head down like you.

You didn´t know what it was, but suddenly you felt like the guys from your old school couldn´t do anything to you, the other ones would protect you.

“Th-thanks...” you whispered, but he couldn´t hear it. The guys disappeared and the ones who protected you asked you to sit with them.

You really didn´t want to, but it would be rude to decline and so you sat with them. “Hey! You´re the girl who finished first, eh? What´s your quirk? How are you so fast? Why did you come to this school? What´s your name? Which school did you visit earlier?” a blue haired girl asked you, leaning over the table to inspect your face.

You hated it when people got too near to you and tried to back away, blushing. “Erm...” you mumbled. “I´m Nejire!” she introduced herself, stretching out her hand to you with a warm smile.

You shook it, shivering and also gave her a weak smile.

“Um...I...I´m...(Y/N)...” you looked down and fidgeted with your fingers. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N)! I´m Mirio” the boy who saved you said.

You smiled. “If you´re in trouble again, you can always come to us!” Nejire said. “Th-thank you...” you quivered. “Oh, this is Tamaki, he´s a bit shy, but don´t worry, he´s not as grumpy as he looks!” Mirio pulled him towards him by the shoulders. Tamaki was sightly uncomfortable.

You had to giggle, Mirio was a nice person.

“Stop it, you´re embarrassing me...” Tamaki hushed,youI could barely hear it. “Oh, classes start again! See you later (Y/N)!” Nejire got up, but Mirio held her back. “We´re in the same class, Neji” he laughed. “Oh, right!” she slapped her hand in front of her forehead. “Sorry!” she apologized. “No, no, don´t worry about it!” you hurriedly tried to calm her.

This was the first time you met them, if somebody had told you then you would grow to be great friends, you would´ve simply laughed at them. There was no way people like them would befriend someone like you. But that wasn´t the only thing that happened.

To you it was obvious, it had to happen sometime…

“Neji! I need your help!” you were rushing throughout the entire school building and the dorms until you finally caught her training with Tamaki and Mirio.

“Hi, (Y/N), I thought you were organizing the prom?” she came up to you.

“I am, but I need your help with the decorations” you pleaded, you didn´t know why you wanted to be in the prom committee in the first place. Well, all of you had to have some sort of extracurricular activities and you thought the committee wouldn´t be as much work.

Oh how wrong you were, it was absolute hell.

“Guys, you coming too?” Nejire smiled.

“Sure thing! We´ll be done quicker this way, come on, Tamaki!” Mirio joined in on the smile.

Tamaki just nodded and walked behind him.

He gave you a shy smile which you returned while your heart skipped a beat.

You weren´t one to hide your emotions for him, Tamaki knew all too well that you fell for him, but you never made him uncomfortable.

He was glad you didn´t, all of this was new to him, it was hard for him to express his feelings, or sort them out.

All he knew was that he felt a good kind of anxiety rushing through him whenever you were near him.

“Hey Tamaki, how was your day?” you smiled at him, gently taking his hand.

It was a habit you developed a few months ago and he didn´t mind it at all, he felt safe with your hand around his own.

He felt as if there was something he could hold onto and come back to if his mind was getting too much for him, if there were too many people, too many eyes on him.

He could always come for you to help, you always calmed him down with a simple sweet smile.

“G-good… Mirio and me just trained and I did some… homework… h-how was your day, (Y/N)?” he answered quietly, he even worked up the courage to ask you as well.

Of course you were all good friends and it came naturally talking to Nejire and Mirio, but you were different, Tamaki still was shy and nervous around you.

Sometimes he wished he was like Mirio when it came to talking to you, Mirio never screwed up answering a simple question…

“A bit stressful actually. But I´m glad you guys are helping out now, that´s very nice of you” you subconsciously rubbed circles with your thumb on Tamaki´s hand.

He forgot how to breathe for a second, stopping in his tracks and blushing.

“Ah, no problem at all, (Y/N)!” Mirio chimed in to make Tamaki move again, Tamaki gave him a quick smile and nod, he really appreciated his best friend always helping him out.

“I´m so excited for tonight! It´s gonna be so much fun!” Nejire chirped as you started decorating the big hall.

“Yeah, I´m stoked too! It´s always great spending time together with my best friends” Mirio grinned.

See, you decided to go to prom together as friends, your whole group, but you had other plans.

You had other plans ever since you realized that you loved Tamaki.

And Nejire and Mirio knew that, they were just teasing you to finally ask him.

But it was harder than you thought, it was near impossible getting Tamaki alone and when you did and told him about your feelings, he didn´t seem to get it.

It was really frustrating.

You were done with the decorations rather fast and to your dismay Nejire and Mirio left you and Tamaki alone.

You did feel less motivated asking him out now than you did a week ago, you just felt as if you had no chance and were making a fool out of yourself.

The more you thought about asking him out, the stupider you felt.

Why on earth did you think that could be a good idea?

If anything it would just destroy your friendship.

“Tamaki?” you didn´t know why you spoke up, but you just had to say this, you had to at least try.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” he coyly looked up to you with a quivering lip and fidgeting fingers.

“You know how you, Neji, Mirio and me are all friends, right? And I think that´s amazing, you´re the best people I´ve ever met. But I can´t say I´m friends with all of you. Because, Tamaki, I like you more than just a friend. And I really didn´t want to say anything because it would make things awkward between us and I don´t want that” you rushed out the words, watching Tamaki´s eyes go wide.

“But I always make things awkward….” he frowned, averting your eyes.

“I don´t care what anyone else thinks, I like your awkward” you smiled shyly, while he blushed.

“I...I like you too, (Y/N)” he whispered, more to the floor than to you.

But that was all you needed to hear, all that you ever wanted to hear.

You took a step forward to stand closer to Tamaki and tapped his shoulder to make him look at you.

“Um, do you maybe want to go to prom with me?” you smiled brightly.

“But...aren´t we all going together?” he asked, he didn´t want Nejire and Mirio to be sad.

“Well, yeah, but I´d prefer to go with you alone, not as friends. We´re still going to hang out with them, I just want to go out with you, Tamaki” you gently brushed your fingers over his shoulder.

“Really? Because… I think I´d like that...” he mumbled before smiling to himself.

You couldn´t conceal your bright smile anymore and nodded heavily.

“I´ll see you tonight then!” you gently stroked his arm and smiled at him again before leaving to get ready.

After the stress of getting ready was over you and Nejire went to the shared room of Tamaki and Mirio.

Tamaki had issues with his tie and in the moment you opened the door, Mirio fixed it for him.

Tamaki looked very uncomfortable and blushed when he saw you, but he still managed to give you a smile, a different smile than the one he gave Nejire, a special smile just for you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw his struggle. You knew Tamaki, normally he wouldn´t have bothered to dress up fancy, but because you asked him out, he actually put a lot of effort into his appearance.

It made you smile, he was so sweet.

“Yo! (Y/N), Neji! You two look good, we´re also ready” Mirio greeted you and you smiled at him friendly.

“Thanks, Mirio! How did you get Tamaki to dress up?” Nejire teased the poor boy.

Tamaki just blushed heavily, not daring to look into her eyes.

“I didn´t! He did it on his own!” Mirio grinned, wrapping an arm around Tamaki, embarrassing him even more.

As soon as the boys left their room, you got a hold of Tamaki´s hand, answering the question Nejire had.

“The suit looks good on you, Tamaki” you whispered to him and he gave you a shy smile, he felt relieved at your words.

“Thank you...y-you also...look beautiful” his voice was hoarse, he still had trouble speaking up.

The four of you entered the big hall to music and a dancing crowd.

“Guys, we´re gonna grab some food and a table” Nejire announced, dragging Mirio behind her to give you two some alone time.

“Alright!” you smiled at her, but frowned when you saw Tamaki´s helpless expression.

There were just too many people here, too many eyes staring daggers into him, the music was too loud, it was hot, he couldn´t breathe.

Out. He just wanted out.

“Tamaki?” you brought his focus back on you with a worried expression.

“We don´t have to dance if you don´t want to, we can go to the others, I know it´s too much for you and it´s alright. I just want you to feel comfortable.” you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips to place kisses over it.

Tamaki averted his eyes, he knew he disappointed you, he knew he wasn´t good enough for you, you were probably just asking him as a joke.

“I know you don´t want to be here, Tamaki. Especially not with me, not after I confessed to you out of the blue. I know that it´s too much to take in at once, I didn´t even leave you time to think about it… and I just want to apologize to you. It was really selfish of me, I should´ve just kept my feelings to myself like I always did. That was a stupid idea, really… I know you well enough to know that you don´t like such events and forced you to come with me, I´m really sorry” you shook your head, frowning, you just wanted to go home.

Why did Nejire leave you two alone? Why did you even ask him out? You should´ve all just gone as friends…

This time it was Tamaki who grabbed your hand to get you out of your head, he didn´t know what to say, he never did.

“(Y/N), please stay… I´m sorry, I do want to be here with you, it´s just… I can´t do anything right and I don´t want to embarrass you… I mean you´re so perfect, I couldn´t believe you when you told me you liked me… after all I´m just me, nothing special….” Tamaki told you sincerely.

Your heart was breaking for him.

“You´re more than perfect to me, Tamaki, I hope you know that. And you´re not embarrassing in any way. Don´t give yourself less credit than you deserve. I wouldn´t have asked you if I didn´t want to be with you, but please don´t get inside your head all the time. You can talk to me, Tamaki, I have to know what´s going on in order to help you, okay? I just care too much about you...” you grabbed his hands and interlocked them with your own, holding onto him, showing him he wasn´t alone.

“Okay… I just never know what so say…” he frowned.

“Nobody does, and that´s alright. Do you want to go back to the others?” you smiled and he nodded.

So you led him through the crowd by his hand until you reached your friends.

Tamaki loosened up sightly and you four spent the night chatting, eating and having fun.

Tamaki not once let go of your hand, you thought he simply forgot to take it away, but in reality your hand gave him security, he never wanted to let go.

As the prom was over, you went back to your dorms.

Tamaki accompanied you to your room.

“I had fun tonight, Tamaki.” you smiled at him as you still stood in front of the door.

“M-me too… maybe we could….go out again?” Tamaki hushed, you could barely hear it.

His face was beet red and he swore everyone could hear his heart beat right now, he hoped someone would call an ambulance in case of a cardiac arrest.

“I´d like that very much, Tamaki” you hooked your arms around his neck and looked into his eyes dreamily.

He smiled and did what Mirio told him to do months ago.

Tamaki´s lips started quivering as he leaned in closely, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment.

You met him halfway and pulled him closer to you as your lips connected, the rush going through your body making you hold onto him tighter.

His lips still were trembling as you started kissing back, he forgot what he was doing for a second.

“G-good night, (Y/N)” Tamaki looked at the floor after you two parted for air, face still red as he walked away in embarrassment.

[starryhedgehog]

my everything : an elu coffee shop au (pt. 4)

part one ll part two ll part three ll part four ll part five ll part six ll part seven ll part eight

a/n : this is a series! each part will come out daily -> let me know if you want to be tagged in the comments or send me an ask xx

taglist : @iamshannonmcfarland ll @nidaslife ll @counting-mississippilesslyll @lululallement ll @spacekardemomme ll @desertwytch ll @vludors ll @kiwisfool ll @eluetmaxel ll @itsthelastquestion ll @apollodankaciyorum ll @kritiquer ll @kittyyya ll @choupi-lulu ll

(if u ever want to be removed from the taglist message me and no hard feelings i promise xx)

VI.

When Lucas next walks into the coffee shop, he nearly drops his backpack.  Because right before his very eyes are the three people Lucas has been trying to avoid: Yann, Basile, and Arthur.  And all three are currently leaning against the counter, bombarding Eliott with questions.

“Are you making my coffee?” Comes from Arthur who leans forward, with wide eyes.

“How long’ve you worked here?” This is Yann, now.

And then, “draw me a picture, Eliott, please, please, please?  I love art.”

Eliott laughs, the same beautiful sound, and Lucas nearly swoons right then and there.  But then he remembers what’s going on, and he marches over, dragging Basile away from the counter.  “He’s not drawing you a picture,” Lucas grumbles.

Elliott perks up at this, eyes widening as he sees Lucas. 

Lucas doesn’t notice, for he’s far too busy pushing Basile, Arthur, and Yann toward the table in the back of the shop.  He distinctly avoids the seat by the window. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lucas scowls, exasperated.  “And why are you talking to, no, bothering Eliott?”

“Ah, first name basis,” Arthur grins.

Yann laughs, passing Arthur a euro.  He then turns to Lucas.  “How’d it go, yesterday?” 

“Fine,” Lucas says.  “Nothing happened.  We just talked.”

“For the entire day?” Yann looks at Lucas with glee.  “Okay.  That’s great.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and dramatically passes the coin back to Yann, who waggles his eyebrows and holds up a triumphant middle finger.

Basile yawns.  “I hope he draws me that race car I told him about.”

Arthur looks sideways at Basile.  “Well huge warning, Baz?  If he does you’d better run.  I think Lulu here might throw fists — and he’s got a mean punch.”  He taps the frame of his glasses, and Lucas scowls.

Basile shrugs, perking up as Eliott calls all three of their names.  Basile is about to run toward the counter, but Yann grabs him by the hood.  “We still have to talk about that girl,” Yann says pointedly.

Lucas thinks this is very dumb, as Basile is so obviously already dating Daphné.

Arthur nods vigorously.  “Yes.  Sit down, Basile.” 

“Get our coffee, Lucas?” Yann looks at him innocently, but Lucas knows better.  He sees the glee behind Yann’s eyes.

Basile looks blank.  “Huh?  What girl?” 

Arthur rolls his eyes.  “Sit down, Baz.”

“I want to see if he likes Lucas!”  Basile whispers a little too loudly.  “That’s why we’re all here, remember?”

Arthur sighs.  “You will, babe, just wait.  Besides, I don’t think Daphné would be too happy to see you so excited about Eliott.”

Yann snickers.  

Lucas walks over to the counter, shaking his head.  He wishes he hadn’t heard that conversation.  

“Hi,” Eliott says, amused.  He smiles as he sees Lucas, leaning forward.  “Are those your friends?”

Lucas nods, sighing.  “Yeah.  They’re a handful.”

“No, they seem cool,”  Eliott says.  “Really cool.” 

“Sorry if they bothered you.”

“Oh no,” Eliott says quickly.  “Not at all.”  He grins, “in fact, they were telling me all about you and your invisible friend.”

The color drains out of Lucas’ face.  “I was twelve!  I’m going to kill them —“

“I was joking,” Eliott teases as he bursts into infectious laughter, “but that was cute.”  He reaches out to mess with Lucas’ hair, pushing four paper cups of coffee toward him.

“Oh,” Lucas says, still not entirely recovered from embarrassment. “Only three.  I didn’t order coffee.”

“I know,” Eliott says.  He pushes the fourth coffee back toward Lucas.  “But still.  It’s for you.  You know, exceptional barista abilities.”

“You don’t have to,” Lucas says.

“Take it,” Eliott insists.  “And I want to.”

Lucas smiles softly and takes the coffees between his arms, stumbling to carry everything as he walks back toward the table.

Yann is grinning at Lucas.  “Oh, yes.  He likes you, dude.”

Arthur nods excitedly.  “Did you see the way he messed with your hair?  He’s totally gone.”

Basile laughs.  “Lucas, the guy gave you free coffee!  Free coffee!  Please date him.”  He turns to Yann, “you know what this means, guys?  We get discounts!”

Lucas looks down at his coffee and smiles, cheeks still pink.  The table grows silent, thrumming with nervous excitement.

Arthur breaks it, howling with laughter.  “Oh my god, guys, guys look, he’s blushing.”

Lucas scowls.  “Shut. Up.”

But then his eyes catch sight of the little hedgehog peeking out from beneath his paper coffee cup, paint-splattered across his spikes.  And then in a little speech-bubble, ‘i’m a fucking masterpiece.  don’t touch.’

He remembered.  He actually remembered.

Lucas stares at the cup and goes completely into bliss.  Distantly he hears the boys whistling and laughing, but right now they’re so far away, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“His eyes just turned into little hearts,” Yann chuckles, poking Lucas’ cheeks.  “I can’t believe this.” 

Basile lights up.  “He gave me a smiley face.”

“And he gave Lulu a gorgeous hedgehog.  But,” Arthur turns to Lucas, still grinning stupidly, “we knew you were a masterpiece, but like, what does this even mean?”

Yann smirks.  “And Lucas said romance was dead.”

Basile jumps up from the table and pumps his fist.  “Yes!”  He turns to Arthur and Yann, “Eliott’s a keeper.”

“For sure,” Arthur says.

Lucas smiles, melting, clutching the coffee cup in his hands.  He thinks he could get used to this Eliott thing.

There’s a little number on the corner of the design, and Lucas faintly distinguishes it as the date three days from now. 

VII.

Lucas meets Eliott at the art museum, and the two of them walk through the galleries and through the millions of paintings.  Lucas makes fun of most of them, because Eliott, really, don’t they all look the same?  But Eliott just laughs and points out interesting facts he’s able to rattle off from the top of his head.  Or, as Lucas likes to put, read from the information signs at the bottom of the portraits.

“Ah,” Eliott says, “Baldassare Castiglione.”  He’s staring at the painting, pensive, his fingertips trailing over his lips. 

There’s no way he knows that.  No way.

“He looks like a chef from a zombie apocalypse.”

Eliott bursts out laughing, then pretends to look at Lucas seriously.  “Could be you.  His eyes are the same color as yours.”

“Get out,” Lucas pushes Eliott, unable to contain the grin spreading across his face.  “Don’t compare me to that.”  He’s about to say more, but suddenly his eyes catch sight of a sign hanging from the ceiling, and he quickly shoves through people, pushing to get towards where he’s so clearly trying to reach.  He manages to grab onto Eliott’s hand before he darts out the section of the gallery. 

Elliott lets out a muffled yelp and is pulled into multiple people.  He’s struggling to follow Lucas because he’s so tall, and Lucas feels a tiny bit of remorse.  But when he turns around to peek at Eliott, there’s a grin on his face, and Lucas knows he’s definitely curious, probably wondering what in the world has gotten him so excited.  Especially considering Lucas has been groaning every time Eliott pushes him into a different part of the museum.

When Lucas finally slows down, his eyes catch on the gilded plaque that reads ‘La Galerie d’Apollon’ and he steps inside, his head leaned up to look at the ceiling.  He walks aimlessly around, searching for something.  He looks past the names of Pisces and Aquarius and walks further and further, neck straining and eyes burning.  And he finds Cancer up on the ceiling surrounded by a small circle of cerulean.  He smiles, satisfied.  “Found it.”

Eliott smiles down at Lucas, who’s still staring up at the ceiling with dazed eyes.  “You like astrology?”

Lucas shrugs.  “Sure.”

Eliott raises an eyebrow, eyes mischievous.  “Sure?” 

“I guess.” 

“You guess?”

“Are you just going to copy everything I say until you get an answer you like?”

Eliott grins bashfully, shrugging.  “Maybe?”

Lucas stares at Eliott for a moment, then sighs and laughs softly.  “Okay, okay.  Yes.”

Eliott gazes at Lucas with a curious expression, and Lucas doesn’t know what it means.  He realizes he’s still holding Eliott’s hand and reluctantly lets go.

But Eliott doesn’t.  Eliott’s still holding onto Lucas’ hand, and when he notices Lucas staring, he interlaces their fingers, eyes crinkling.

What?

Lucas looks up at Eliott, his eyes wide.  Wide and wondrous.  He’s yelling at himself to say something, say anything, but he can’t bring himself to speak.  He’s utterly speechless.  And it’s all because Eliott’s holding his hand, holding his hand, holding his hand.

“Is this okay?” Elliott asks, actually concerned, and bless him, Lucas thinks.  Now he’s about to actually die. 

Lucas is surprised when he nods.  Because apparently his body’s decided that it can nod impulsively, but not speak.  At least, not until now.  “More than okay,” he croaks. 

Eliott smiles, and he’s so close to Lucas.  And Eliott’s looking down at him with eyes full of adoration.  Adoration, Lucas thinks.  That’s what it is.  Adoration.  Eliott’s voice startles him, and he jumps, shaky.  

“Step one,” Eliott says, “hold your hand.”  He’s so close now, and Lucas doesn’t know what to do with his other hand, which he shakily holds in front of him.  “Step two,” Eliott says, looking at Lucas with those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

And Lucas realizes that he can smell Eliott’s faint cologne, but most of all he smells coffee beans, and Lucas’ suddenly grateful for the hand interlaced with Eliott’s that’s keeping him grounded.  “You can’t, you can’t touch —“  He can’t bring himself to finish.

Eliott’s so close that Lucas’ hand is now resting right against his chest, and he can’t breathe, everything’s so warm, so right, so perfect.

“Fuck the rules,” Eliott whispers, his thumb reaching to brush against Lucas’ bottom lip.

And Lucas doesn’t know who makes the first move, who breaks the spell that’s settled around them, but suddenly he’s leaning up on his tiptoes and Eliott’s surging forward, and Eliott’s lips are against his, and he’s being kissed.

Eliott’s lips are soft, and the warmth swirling through Lucas’ entire body is enough to make him melt at the spot.  Eliott’s hands come up to hold Lucas’ face, and Lucas tugs Eliott closer, running his hands through that gorgeous hair he’s wanted to touch for so long.  There’s a soft sound when Eliott hums against his lips, and Lucas shivers.

When he pulls away Eliott is staring at him softly, eyes warm, everything warm.  “Step two,” Eliott says, in that sweet, sweet voice.  “Make out with you.” 

“Step three,” Lucas says impatiently, “kiss me again.” 

Eliott laughs, and Lucas pulls him closer, kissing him again. 

part five

[ultraviolettae]

Hi! In your masterlist it says that we can request drabbles and povs from any of the stories. I´m really curious about the first time Taehyung and mc met, since she just appeared inside his house out of nowhere. Thank you in advance if you actually write it !

Okay so, this is the first ever draft I ever wrote for Void and I think I even posted it on here but deleted it very quickly. There are some sentences I´ve included in the other version because I didn´t want to delete this first try of writing the first chapter, so sorry if some bits sound familiar. Also here the mc has a motorbike and stuff but let´s just say she sold it because I discarded the idea of her needing those things after thinking about it.

Anyway, I hope this 4k of nonsense does the job (?) Idk but here´s how they met:

I run my hands through the wet locks of hair making sure every bit of themis covered in shampoo and I relax as I rinse the excess with warm water. Oncemy hair is washed I hug my knees seeking to increase my body temperature, butthe position makes it impossible for the water to reach past my waist, so I layon my back again. Staring at the cracked ceiling, I hum to an old song tryingto avoid my thoughts. The sound of liquid in movement fills the room as I turninside the bathtub to face the door, and I close my eyes. What if I stayed hereforever? I know it´s not a possibility I should even consider, and I reprimandmyself for it. Only thirty minutes left.

I walk towards the fridge with just a towel wrapped around my body, and Ifrown in disappointment when I open it. There´s nothing inside and my stomachtwists in both hunger and frustration. I give up after finding out the freezeris just as empty, and I close it with strength that isn´t needed for completingsuch a simple task. Twenty minutes.

The wet piece of fabric falls to the floor and I nonchalantly walk towardsmy clothes, the silhouette of my body barely reflecting on the window in frontof me. While I fasten my bra and zip up my jeans I think about how I´ve grownfond of nudity in the past few months. I come to the conclusion that solitudehas made me careless about things I used to be ashamed of. Ten minutes.

I roam around the house collecting my belongings and making sure everythingis in the place where it´s expected to be, paying attention to every detail andevery possible mistake that could turn into a hint of my stay. Five minutes.

The last thing I do is drink a glass of water and lace my shoes, my heartracing a bit. As many times as I´ve done this before, it still gets on mynerves sometimes and I have to breathe deeply to calm myself. Time´s up.

In the distance, I observe the arrival of a black car, the lights pointingin the opposite direction as to where I´m standing.  A young couple exitsit, the same people I had seen in pictures all around the house now standingfive mere meters away from me. He lines their suitcases in the entrance whileshe keeps the vehicle in the garage. The door is unlocked by its correspondentkey and no suspicion, no concern, no fear appears on their faces. I exhaleheavily, freeing all the air I was holding.

Once again, I have occupied a house without any consequences, and I can´tsay I feel proud of it. I knew from the start what I was getting into and,after all, I chose this lifestyle, so I tell myself to stop feeling guiltyabout it. My eyes drift over the door one last time as I place my helmet overmy head but I obey myself to look away and my stare focuses on looking to thesides instead, acknowledging the traffic rules for once in my life. The roar ofmy motorbike is the only thing audible as I enter the main road. There aren´tmany cars around me, which I´m thankful for. As I drive, I keep repeating in myhead that this is how it works: no attachments, no looking back. I can´t affordsuch feelings.

But at least, it´s good that I know where I´m headed to, to know there isanother place waiting for me.

It´s the first rule I follow, the next target always has to be less than anhour away from the previous one. It makes the rides short, and it reassures methat I can always go back if needed to.

Every place is a step further away from where I´m escaping from, andsometimes the thought makes me feel relieved. Others, it scares me. It´s onlybeen five months and although I´m certain I don´t want to go back, sometimes Imiss having a home.

A home. Back there, it didn´t feel like that at all, and I wonder if I knowthe true meaning of the word, or what it feels like at all. I speed up to passan orange light, the sudden incensement of the cold air reddening my cheeks. Ifeel frustrated with myself and as always, I try to push it away. If I feelthis way, it´s probably because I deserve it. Again, I tell myself that I chosethis, and that I should just deal with it without overthinking too much.

It takes me a while to find the city outskirts as the entire row of houseslooks exactly the same as the one I had just seen minutes ago, but I finallyrecall the route and as I park my vehicle I doubt if choosing this place was agood idea. Half of the street lights don´t work and the electric laying is allover the place, but as I walk in the emptiness of the night I force myself tonot feel intimidated. I´m searching for one and only one thing: red flyers.They advertise a new home appliance’s shop, which, obviously, only exits in myimagination.

It´s an easy way to do it: a few days in advance I place them in themailboxes, adjusting them in a position in which they are only half visible forthe average passerby. And now, the ones that have not been removed betray theowners: it means the house is empty.

Most of them are gone, and some of them are on the floor. As I reach theend of the street, I spot one of the red papers still inside the mailbox,proudly standing out in the dark. I hurriedly walk towards it, making surenobody is aware of my presence. I display my toolbox on the floor, next to me.And then, I proceed.

A slight move of the wrist to the right and then rolling it twice in theother direction, the precision and stealth of an expert. An almost silent clickand a small performance with the screwdriver. That is all it takes to disassemblea lock without damaging any parts of it. Fast, straightforward and never failsto work.

I make sure no one has seen me and I slip past the gate, closing it behindme. There is a small garden that leads to the actual house, and I run towardsthe main door like a furtive animal. With the moon being the only source oflight it takes me a few more minutes than expected to maneuver, but it finallygives in and I step in, not sure about what I´m going to be met with.

My hands feel the walls searching for a light switch, and when I notice oneunder my touch, I press it. I sigh in relief, thankful for everything beingvisible again.

So far, the place isn´t very nice. There isn´t much furniture and the scentis overwhelming, as if whoever lives here doesn´t clean too often. From whereI´m standing, I can count four rooms: a kitchen, a bathroom, a small lounge anda bedroom. I want to investigate more, but before I let my curiosity outweigheverything else a telephone placed on a small coffee table reminds me of myduties.

The second rule: make sure that I know where the owners are going toreturn.

I approach it and press the tiny red button, a deep voice emerging from thespeaker.

“Hi, this is Kim Taehyung. I´m on a business trip right now. If you needsomething, feel free to leave a message”

His voice sounds intermittent, as if whoever had recorded the messageneeded to carefully measure his words, but I decide to ignore. I hear a loudbeep and I immediately hang up. He´s gone – the man who lives here – and that´senough. The message had been recorded twelve hours ago. It means I´ll be ableto stay for a whole week.

That has to be the longest period of time ever gifted to me to stop over astranger´s house. A new record that overcomes those five days I stayed in anabandoned cottage. The idea itself is exciting, but I try to contain myemotions as I repeat to myself that no matter for how long, I´m just passingby.

My stomach growls and I head to the kitchen. It´s small and there´s onlyone chair alongside the table, which means its only one person who lives here.Kim Taehyung. That is how he had called himself.

There´s no refrigerator, so I open a drawer instead, tapping my footagainst the floor. I find a package of noodles, and I smile. As always, isbetter than nothing. I also find a pan and I turn the stove on, waiting for itto heat up.

While the noodles go from raw to eatable, I observe the place. The wallpaper has clearly been too exposed to the sun, losing its original color, andall the items in the house look cheap and overused. Still, there´s a cozyfeeling to it, a feeling I´d like to remember in the future.

That leads to the third rule and, perhaps, my favorite out of all of them:keep visual track of everything.

I grab my bag and extract one of the only two objects apart from my toolboxthat I carry in it: a camera. Getting rid of my shoes, I turn the machine onwhile I walk barefoot against the wooden floor. First, I take some pictures ofthe different rooms and then, extending an arm and adjusting the lens so thatboth my face and the different items I encounter appear in the frame I pressthe small silver button repeatedly until I have as many pictures as I want to.I stare at them, a smile on my face with as much oddity as expected of thegesture, a false joy reflecting in my strange actions.

The noodles are ready. They are slightly burnt and don´t have much taste,but I eat them anyway. I still find it weird to have meals alone, and I justkeep stuffing my mouth to stop the urge of talking to myself.

Then, a hollow sound reaches my ears. At first, I blame my imagination.Maybe I am talking to myself after all. But then, I hear it loud and clear.Someone is pulling up in the front door. I freeze in place, the fork I washolding now laying on the floor.

It can´t happen. It has never happened and it´s not going to happen now. Itjust can´t. With how careful I have always been, always aware of the risks, mybody doesn´t know how to react. At the realization of what is happening, I retreatin the sofa like a hopeless puppy. There are no more doors and I´m only able tolocate one window, too small to jump through it. I think about hiding, but it´stoo late. A tall man is standing in the lounge, still oblivious to my presencebut already furrowing his brows at my shoes. They clearly aren´t his. The samedeep voice that had come out of the phone fifteen minutes ago is the only thingaudible along with the increasing banging of my heart.

 “The trip was cancelled. Yeah, I know. We waited at the airport forabout five hours. My back hurts a lot”

And then, his eyes meet mine. I jump out of my sitting position and I staystill, too astonished to move. His mouth hangs open and I can tell he´s not pleasedwith the sight, not that he should be.

“I´ll call you later”

Someone´s words are muffled as his phone hangs stoic in the air, and hefinally hangs up. There´s a heavy silence between us, not leaving room foranything else. I want to say something, but in a way, I´m shocked too. It´s myfirst human interaction in a long time and my eyes can´t seem to leave his.

For some reason I feel exposed under his stare, and I don´t think it´sbecause I´m an intruder. His fringe falls over his eyes and finally, after whatfeels like forever, he clears his throat and talks. What he says it´s not whatI expected.

“Do I know you?”

He sounds distant, but comforting. I might look desperate to him, becausehe just stands there as if the possibility of me attacking him hadn´t evencrossed his mind. My mind has gone blank, and I can´t barely mutter an answer.

“No”

My voice sounds strange, even I find oddity in it. It´s weak and denotingjust as much nervousness as I´m feeling.

“Okay. Do you know me?”

He´s acting too calmed for the scenario playing between us, but maybe he´sjust being cautious. I observe his under eye circles and I guess he´s just assleep deprived as I am. I want to grab my things and go, but I don´t know how.His eyes bore into my camera and an undecipherable expression appears in hisface, his slender fingers wrapping around it.

I know he´s going through my gallery and I lean forward by natural reflex,coming closer to him. He smells nice, as if he had just showered, and I try toignore the way it makes me feel slightly dizzy. I can now see what he´s seeingand I swallow thickly.

Pictures of all the houses I´ve been to. He puts two and two together, and,suddenly, he doesn´t look as comfortable with my presence. I expectantly waitfor his reaction, but my eyes dart to the floor.

A pang of pity and self-hatred swipes over me, and I ball my fists tryingto retain whatever emotion is taking over me.

“You´ve broken into my house”

The way he says it makes my insides turn, and the urge to run away isbigger than ever. Self consciousness at the realization of what I´ve beendoing, that is all it is. I stare at him with doe eyes and parted lips. I knowthat if I have to beg, I will.

“Please don´t call the cops”

It sounds way more desperate than I intended, but I choose to ignore it. Helooks at me and it makes my accelerated heart stop dead in its tracks.

“Why not? It´s what I should be doing”

I don´t know. I can´t think of any reasons about why he shouldn´t, and Ibreak down. I break down in front of a stranger, and the hectic moment makes mecareless about it.

“I don´t have anywhere to go”

My voice cracks in the middle of the sentence and I know the words I´vechosen are not enough. They´ll never be, but they seem to have an impact onhim.

Then, a smart move. He extracts a tiny object from the back of my camera.After that, it takes him a while to speak again.

“This is your memory card. I- I don´t want to hurt you, but you have tounderstand you can´t just come in here and do whatever you want. Gosh, are youeven eighteen?”

He looks at me and I furrow my brows, but I submit and answer, even thoughI don´t want to give away anything about me.

“I´m older than that”

The palms of his hands are sweaty, and I feel bad for him. He probablydoesn´t know what to do and still, he´s being nice to me.

“I haven´t stolen anything”

I know it´s something he´s meaning to ask, so I just clarify it out of theblue. The tension on his shoulders decreases and I link my arms behind my backas if wanting to prove that I don´t hold anything against him.

“Well, if you are an adult, I have proof that can get you into jail. I-Ishow this to the police, all this creepy photos, and you´ll get arrested”

Getting arrested is not an option, and a shiver goes down my spine. If onlyI could make him understand that is not even a possibility for me.

“But I won´t do it”

The words are said with bluntness but there´s something behind them,something he doesn´t want to show. He´s pitying me and, although I´m gratefulfor what he´s doing, I hate him for it. I don´t want to admit that I needcompassion.

“Why?”

He keeps the memory card in one of his pockets and I follow him with myeyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose and alternates between opening andclosing his mouth, as if he´s not sure about what to say.

“Because, you remind me of someone I know. Too much. And it looks likewhatever has brought you here – what got you into this ” his hand pointstowards the camera, as if the object held a record about my days as a squatter “Itmust be something scary you´re running away from”

That catches me off guard, and I stare at him in disbelief, wondering howmuch of an open book I am for him. Our eyes are intertwined once again, and Iunderstand in that moment that we are communicating without speaking. He´sthinking about what to do with me, and I feel like an object in a showcase, himbeing an indecisive buyer.

“I am, and I apologize. I-I can leave. I never intended to harm anyone withthe lifestyle I follow. But please” I pause, not sure about if what I´m aboutto say is still needed “Please don´t report that I´ve been here”

He massages his temples, and at this point I don´t know what´s goingthrough his head anymore.

“How does it work?”

I blink twice, not sure about what he means. He notices and he signals forme to sit, which I do reluctantly. Him standing in front of me while I´msitting looks much more intimidating than the position we were in before.

“I´ve told you I won´t call the cops on you. But, I need you to answer allof my questions. How does this… lifestyle work?’”

I nod, making him know I understand his point, but I´m not sure about howto answer. I opt for the truth.

“I-It´s simple. I just search for empty houses, and I stay in them for aslong as I can. I don´t steal anything; maybe grab some food or a new T-shirt.But I always do something in return: cleaning, doing the laundry, watering theplants. Or it can be fixing something. I-I haven´t done anything of it here,yet”

He sits next to me, and I flinch even though he still keeps his distance.His kindness is imposing, and I still can´t believe that I´m not in a car in myway to the police station.

“So you´re good at fixing things”

His arms are crossed vaguely, resting on his lap as he leans forward to seemy face, which I try to cover with my hair by staring at the floor.

“I guess so”

I put a strand behind my ear, finally connecting my stare with his. Thistime is different, he´s looking at me as if I´m not a threat anymore and forsome reason I don´t categorize it as something positive.

“Then fix this”

He rolls up his sleeve and removes a watch from his wrist, the silver bandshiny against his skin. As he hands it to me and I grab it, we touch for thefirst time. His hand is warm, the warmest thing I´ve felt in a long time, andanother shiver goes down my spine.

But now that I have something solid to focus on, something I can do withouttalking, I quickly grab my toolbox and start dismantling the small object. Ifeel like I´m at school again, going through a test under someone´s judgingstare.

At first I think the battery has just died at some point, but then I seeit: one of the gears has slightly moved to the side. My finger pushes the tinypiece, pressing it against the top one. It all fits in now and I stare at it inawe before giving it back to him. He extends and arm and lifts his eyebrowsand, for the first time, he smiles at me.

It´s an inviting gesture, honest and maybe even a bit playful, somethingI´m not used to. I limit myself to fasten the now ticking watch, and I noticehis hand staying in mine a few seconds more than it should, as if he´s testingsomething.

I blush, and I hope he doesn´t see it.

“Are you scared of me?”

Again, his question startles me. He should be the one being scared, and Itell him so.

“I definitely should be. It´s not nice to come home to a stranger eatingyour noodles. Unless if it´s a stranger like you”

My blushing increases at the mention of the dinner I had made in a rush andI tilt my head as I start sorting out the tools I´ve used, ignoring what he hasjust said.

“What´s your name?”

I don´t know why he´s interested, and I´m still not quite sure if he´sbeing nice to get information out of me or if it´s just in his nature, but Ianswer anyway. I have to.

Then he extends his arm again, and I can´t believe he´s introducing himselfin a moment like this, but I grab it and he shakes it a little. Again, I findhis warmness overwhelming.

“I´m Kim Taehyung”

He makes me stand up, still holding my hand as if he is a doctor and I´m apatient who isn´t able to walk properly, guiding me to the kitchen. The plateof noodles is still standing there, cold and lifeless.

I watch him open a drawer and grab a fork, and then, he sits and startseating. I open my mouth, surprised at how he´s acting because it doesn´t makeany sense to me. Maybe I have stumbled upon someone with a double personality,maybe I was the one to be freaked out.

“You make some pretty good noodles. I´m keeping you”

My eyes widen and I feel like I´m going to pass out at any moment. Ifantasize about the idea, about how I´d rather be unconscious on the floor thantrying to process what he has said.

“You are keeping me?”

He grabs a napkin and swipes it over his lips, and I stare at how pinkthey´ve turned in just a few seconds.

“Listen. I don´t have much to offer. I live for my job and my job allows meto live. It´s not very exciting. With the years, I´ve become friends withisolation. And, coming home and… and seeing someone here, it made me realizehow desperate I am for some company” I listen to him, his eyes fixated in thenothingness and mine on his face. “Once, I was homeless too, and even now thatI have an actual house, it still feels empty. I don´t want anyone else to feelthat way”

His words make my heart sink. I want to tell him that I have a place to goback to if I want to, that pain has just made me whimsical, but I don´t. He´seyeing me with something I recognize very well: insecurity.

“ It´s not an offer. You are staying here, at least for tonight. I can´tlive with myself knowing you´ll be sleeping on the streets or something worse”

I want to tell him that I can occupy another house, but again, I don´t. Ithink about the idea and I don´t think about it at all. He´s a stranger, but Ifind comfort in the way he speaks to me, more than I´ve ever felt with peopleI´ve known longer. He needs company, and I may be starting to admit that I needit to.

“Okay. I´ll stay”

He smiles, and I return the gesture. We don´t speak for a while, and it´sdifficult for me to distinguish if I´m dreaming or if it´s all real. I tellmyself that it´s just another place, that the fact that there is someone elsewith me doesn´t matter. It´s temporary, something  spontaneous. A part ofme is scared, but I suppress it harshly. After all, I have nothing to lose.

[unknownoutrider]

For the Love of Pets

Lhasa Apso

I once had a dog that I did nothing but love. Never trained to obedience or tricks. Just snuggled and pet and played with. A little Lhasa Apso that slept on my bed, curled against me.

One day, my dad started tickling me out of the blue. It was all in fun. But that little dog raced to defend me, nipping my dad on his bare heel, like the dog was telling my dad "Don't mess with him or I'll take you out!"

Such great loyalty in a little dog. What did I do to deserve such loyalty? I just pet him and played with him. Let him sleep on my bed. Just let him be with me while I did - whatever - at home. To this day, I am humbled by the all-in devotion and love of that dog. We do not deserve dogs, but they bless us anyway.

Mutt

I once had a dog that was sickly when I got her as a puppy from the shelter. The vet said to keep her isolated from other dogs and people with dogs until her sickness was cured, to avoid spreading her illness and maybe catching another. She missed her chance to get properly socialized, so was really only loyal to me.

I slept on the floor with her for her first couple of weeks. I held her when she shivered because strangers (my friends) were in the house. I played with her, pet her, and let her sleep on the bed.

Then, about one and a half years after I adopted her, we moved to a new place. Two weeks after the move, while I was at work and unable to take a phone call (this was before cell phones and my call center job wouldn't allow me to take personal calls), she ran out of the new apartment. I didn't find out until I got back home, many hours later.

I took the next three days off work to look for her. But I couldn't find her. I had to go back to work, but I checked in with the three nearest shelters daily for the rest of the week. My father visited to help me find her. But I couldn't find her.

After a week and a half, I was pretty sure she was gone. Then, getting home from work, I found that a message had been left for me. My dog was at the local vet school, injured.

I raced through the first snow of the year to the vet and learned the dreadful news. My dog had been found when someone at a car dealership clear across town, in the direction of our old home, had pulled out of their parking place and had run over her with their car.

She had a broken leg, broken ribs, bruised heart, bruised lungs, and was bleeding in her chest and abdominal cavities. She was very badly hurt.

Because of my low income, I had to sign a paper saying that if her heart stopped, to not try to resuscitate her. It was too expensive. My hands shook as I signed it, admitting I was too poor do absolutely everything to save her.

I sat in the waiting room for four hours, well into the night. Finally, the doctors (or nurses or students, I'm not really sure) came out and said that she was failing. They asked if I wanted to see her one last time, before she passed. Heart in my throat, my father and I went with them.

She looked horrible. She was lying in a small, plastic cage with its metal gate open. She was skinny. Her fur was shaved in spots for the incisions of the surgery that was performed. There were tubes sticking out of her, draining off the fluids that were trying to fill her cavities and make it hard for her to breathe and her heart to beat.

They told us they had drugged her to the point of feeling no pain and warned us that she wouldn't be aware of us because of it.

I ... I couldn't approach. My dad approached first. He talked quietly to her as he pet her.

Then it was my turn. I hurt so much seeing her like this. Shaking, hesitant, I reached out and pet her, careful to avoid the tubes and incisions. My voice cracked as I started to talk to her, almost whispering. I told her that I was there and that she should rest and, though my heart tried to choke the words, that it was okay.

One of the nurses gasped as the tip of her tail began to gently wag. They said that it was impossible for her to hear me, that she was too drugged up to be able to hear me. She couldn't be aware enough to recognize me and wag her tail.

After I pet her and talked to her more, while my heart was breaking, they asked us to go back to the waiting room. And there I waited for them to come out and tell me my dog was dead, heart ripping apart. And waited. And waited. And waited.

We waited for two more hours. Then someone came out and my heart slammed into my stomach and lungs. I felt sick and it was hard to breathe. This was it. It was over. My dog was gone. I was barely keeping it together.

But, this nurse/doctor/student was somewhat confused and excited. She said that, somehow, after we went back there and talked to her, pet her, and she had impossibly wagged her tail, all of her vitals had suddenly sprang up! They wanted me to go back again and continue to talk to her and pet her. That, somehow, because of her response to me, she might live.

So, I went back to her again and pet her and talked to her, while the tip of her tail wagged. I was there maybe a half hour or forty-five minutes. Then they asked me to go home and they would contact me in the morning.

Exhausted and emotionally strung-out, I collapsed into bed in the early morning.

When I woke, she was out of danger! Still wounded and in need of healing and care, but no longer in danger of dying. I was so relieved my legs went a little weak.

And amazingly, unbelievably, she came home with me only two days after she was hit by the car. Lively and irrepressible after only two days! She was still bruised, a broken front leg in a cast, and a broken rib. But she no longer needed constant medical care. Just rest at home.

The vets said that it appeared that she had given up on life, but when she heard my voice, she regained her will to live and fought, fiercely, back to health. They were amazed and impressed. They had done everything they could to save her and failed. But my voice, my presence, was the thing that brought her back. They said that this was proof of the power that love can bring to physical healing, one of the most astonishing examples they had ever seen. She had been literally at death's door, but came back because of my voice and touch, out of love for me.

She was my companion for twelve and a half more years and two more moves to new places. We went on long hikes and camping adventures. We adopted an abandoned cat together. We played together for years, the cat, her, and me. We mourned when the cat died unexpectedly. She never lost her excitement and eagerness to play, even while the aggressive cancer (that eventually took her from me) was making her miserable. She was my buddy. I miss her. She gave herself unreservedly. I didn't deserve her, her loyalty and love. But, she blessed me anyway.

Black Cat One day, I found a black cat outside my neighbor's door.

I was in the habit of taking my dog out for her last chance at doing her business late at night. On this night, there was a black cat hanging out at my neighbors' apartment door when I took my dog out. The cat, upon seeing us, trotted over and started rubbing against me and my dog and purring. My poor dog didn't know what to do. Usually cats ran from her. This continued for three nights.

On the fourth day, I was able to ask my neighbor (the man of the couple) about the cat. He said that his wife was a cat person and he was a dog person. They had both. But, he was finally able to convince her to make the cat an outdoor cat. Then he stopped feeding it. He also said that he had taken the cat and dropped it off some distance away, multiple times, but it kept coming back.

I was outraged. That night, when I saw the cat again, I fed it a handful of diet dog food (my dog was on a diet at the time). The cat scarfed it down as fast as it could. It had been starving. When I pet it, I could easily feel the rib bones.

Right then, I decided that it was my cat. I would not stand for such abuse. (Cats have to learn to hunt from their mothers when they are kittens. They rarely learn later in life.)

I took it (turns out, the cat was male) into my apartment and put him in my bathroom with some water. Then I went to a twenty-four-hour Walmart and bought all the necessary cat supplies. I have never regretted that decision.

The vet told me he was between a year and three years old when I adopted him.

He swiftly adjusted to living with me and my dog. He would race around the apartment, often getting the dog to chase him. He would come up to the dog and tackle her head, then roll on his back as he and the dog wrestled.

He was loved. He returned that love in greater amount in cuddles, head-buts, and generous purring. (He would also lick my hair after I had showered, drooling into my hair and down my neck. I tolerated it.)

Unfortunately, he died 10 years after I adopted him, when he suffocated on a hairball. I was not at home at the time. I came home to find my pets not greeting me at the door. My dog was on my bed, being all nervous and looking at my cat, curled up on a blanket on the floor. The cat looked like he was sleeping. But he was stiff, dead.

The dog missed him and mourned for months, as did I.

But that was 10 years of shelter, food, cuddles, and play that I don't think the cat would have had, had I not adopted him. I don't think he would have survived long after being being abandoned. I miss him, his cuddles and purrs. His teasing the dog to get the dog to play with him. His sleeping on my lap.

Humans had tossed him away, like trash. I like to think I redeemed ourselves to him. I certainly felt blessed by him.

[bethshootsbands]

Tarah Who? Interview

“Tarah Who?” was precisely my reaction when first discovering this band but don’t let the name put you off. Consisting of  Tarah G Carpenter (TGC): Vocals and Guitar, Joey Southern (JS): Bass and Backing Vocals, and Coralie Hervé (CH) : Drums and Backing Vocals, these guys are pretty good and you can find out everything you need to know about Tarah Who? from our interview below:

How would you best describe your sound? 

CH : The Tarah Who?’s sound is a mix between rock/punk/grunge but at the same time it’s kind of unique. I like to let people discover it by themselves and see what they think about it :) TGC: We are a rock, grunge female fronted power trio called Tarah Who? . The best way to describe our sound is the way people have described us on the road "If Motörhead was fronted by Alanis Morissette" JS: We play loud, we play hard and we play with a purpose! Every song is like it is our last.

What musical influences do you have i.e – ‘for fans of [insert genre/artist]

CH : I’m a big fan of Nightwish (symphonic metal band). I really love that genre !! I like Classic Rock and Metal in general. TGC: I grew up listening to a lot of Alanis Morissette, until I discovered The Distillers, Motorhead, Pantera, RATM etc... I m a big fan of the 90s rock, grunge ...:) JS: Tarah Who is for fans of rock, punk, and grunge!!!

Why should people care? – What do ‘Tarah Who?’ offer to the scene?

TGC: We don't try to sound like anyone else that we like. We play how we feel. We are authentic and raw. Our energy comes from the music itself, our chemistry together as a band and from the audience who really loves what we do. I agree that it can be a competitive industry for people who try to sound like everyone else, but if you you are true to yourself, you realize quickly that you, and your sound are unique. No one really plays like you unless you want to. I think that's where we stand out. We are not trying to please anyone, or fit in. The reason why we can't really describe our sound is because we are all influenced by different bands and we have a different background. Yet, together, we form and make this unique sound and music. JS: We stay true to ourselves, entertaining and creating a raw mix of rippling energy in any room.

what do you want listeners to take away (if anything) from your music? TGC: I started writing because I had a lot in my mind and in my heart but I didn't feel like I could share this with anyone in particular. Putting it into words, writing it down already made me feel lighter.There are certain things that you want to tell people but you can't tell them to their face. One of the first songs I wrote was to my friend who had a drug addiction. I wanted to let her know that I was there for her for as long as it took her to get off the drugs. It was not something I could tell her to her face because she was not listening. Instead of keeping those type of emotions, I write them down and they become songs. Another song that I wrote is called "Happy" It's a really pop rock"happy" tone but I actually talk about accepting to stay in a relationship that you are not happy in. We usually say " why is he/she staying if she/he is not happy " but how about... if you see that you're supposedly loved one is not happy, you are clearly not making them happy and neither are you, why do you stay? if you see that your partner is not strong enough to leave, why don't you? I performed this song one night and a girl came up to me, tears in her eyes and said "I relate to this song. thank you so much! " Since that day, I realized that we are all the same. I may be writing about my story, but anyone can relate and interpret to their own. I listened to Alanis Morissette because I related to her words and when I didn't i sympathized. I love psychology and behavior. I write a lot about this, I write about love, anger, betrayal.. the usual:) In the end, I hope that people open their hearts and understand also that we are all the same no matter what race, origin, religion or sexual orientation. We all have feelings that need to be felt, owned and explored. There is definitely a message behind everything that we are doing, there are more than one actually, from sharing a simple story, to entertain crowds and make people have a good time!, make people dream, and female musicians dare to play music and be who they want to become. I want to inspire kindness by talking about how people hurt each other on a daily basis, and of course, If we can ever raise money to support animals, we will:) JS: Give and take is important and being able to absorb constructive criticism is ideal in future development. 

So when did you guys first start making music together?

CH : I started playing drums when I was 10, never stop since. I always been in a band and play live but it was just for fun.I’ll say that Tarah Who? is my first serious project and it’s really amazing !!! TGC: Thanks Coralie! I started playing the drums when I was 14. I played drums and bass in different rock bands in high school. When I moved to Kentucky to be an exchange student, I could no longer play the drums so I bought myself an electric guitar and Alanis Morissette songbook! That's how I learned how to play the guitar! lol! I still play the drums and bass in different projects for friends especially. Tarah Who? is my main project. I never really thought about music as a career, it is just what I have always been doing. Any job that I took was to support my music. I don't feel good when I don't play. I need to play a little bit every day. JS: I can remember strumming guitars my dad had laying around but it wasn't until I was about 12 that I began to focus solely on bass. I played in various bands throughout my youth and into my early twenties until I decided to move to Los Angeles to pursue music full time. One of my music professors in Community College made me realize that I was on the fence. One leg in my nine-to-five job at a hospital "normal life" and the other leg playing in bands at night and doing what I love "not normal". I could never be 100% at both so I had to make a choice. I jumped in my car with some clothes my basses and about $3,000 I had saved and I've been in Los Angeles ever since. That was seven years ago and the best risk I ever took.

How does the mixing/ song writing process usually go? TGC: It is usually a burst of emotions. I am usually in tears when it happens because I am either angry or sad. It is like a flash that lasts between 5 and 10 minutes. I am gone. My hand just spills words down on a piece of paper. When it is done I just put a date and time and let it sit for a while. Sometimes a day sometimes a few days.. then I come back to it with my guitar, and the song is already playing in my head. All the instruments are playing. I practice it so that I can track a demo. I don't change the words or anything because I don't want to change the emotions I initially felt. I track the drums, bass and guitar and a few vocal ideas ( backing vocals) I send the tracks to Joey and Coralie with and without their instrument. Since they have a different technique and sound (overall their own personality behind their instrument) I let them explore without the bass or drum tracks. I just send them a version with so that they get the overall feeling and intensity. Then we work on the song together until we are satisfied, then we record it and we play it live and share it to the world! JS: Tarah gives us the intention and story behind the song. Coralie Herve and I then add our personalities into the playing and hours later we have more Tarah Who? Any upcoming releases/shows/ anything to plug?

CH : We are always playing shows, specially in California. You can follow us on social media (Facebook, Instagram.. ) to stay tune for any news :)  We are gonna release a video soon for our single ‘’Numb Killer’’ and it will be following by our new EP called ‘’64 Women’’. Really excited about it !!! TGC: Yes like Coralie said, We are always playing shows around southern California. The best way to stay updates is to check our website www.tarahwho.com or to follow us on bandsintown and songkick . We are also on every social media that you can think of including spotify, soundcloud etc.. (just type in TARAH WHO? and you ll find us) but we are mostly super active on our instagram @tarahwho . We love to meet new people so feel free to come and hang out at our shows:) 

What can we expect from you in the near future? TGC: In the near future we will be releasing "Numb Killer" our single. It will be released with a music video. Coming right after that will be the ep "64 Women" . We will be promoting this EP on the road all year of 2019. so make sure that you add us on your bandsintown or songkick to have an updated tour schedule! Head to  youtube.com:tarahwho , bandcamp.tarahwho , spotify/tarahwho Basically type in tarahwho on your favorite platform and you will find us:) Anything else to add, any advice for other breakout bands?

CH : Do what you love, if you believe and work hard for it, you’ll make it !! Everything is possible !! TGC: Thanks for having us! Support each other!! Be yourself! don't worry about what other think or say. You have one life to live, Live it the fullest! Don't waste your time! 

There you have it folks! now you have an answer for when people ask Tarah, who?