#Loverboy.inc

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sum • A gluttonous artist Suguru and a muse whose value lies at the end of said artist’s brush. Wrapped up in an entanglement of web spiraling ever down into the world of raw artistry.

pov • m!reader

wc • 7.2k

details • Suguru x reader, Satoru Gojo, Shoko Ieiri, Kento Nanami, nepotism, social hierarchy, multi-part series, ongoing, heavy themes, mlm, smut, jjk fanfics, x reader, art college au timeline, poetry.

Color of Eternity • Hex

Swatch #081B45

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How do you define the word..muse?

To visualize a muse in the eyes of everyone else, of all 8 billion walks of human life on this Earth—you’d come full circle in a matter of milliseconds. In that split moment, you would see that the root of motivation, drive, passion, pursuit and ultimately undying faith is never one singular thing.

No, a muse is..is a concept. A paradigm of something, someplace, someone, that gives your life meaning. That gives every step you take a purpose, makes you feel worthy of each inhale and exhale leading to an inevitable demise. All blissfully hopeful that it’ll have all been worth it.

That you have lived out your life through your muse, dedicated, bled, sweat, and cried your everything into having that sliver of a chance to recreate something that no mortal bounds can ever really capture—emotion.

Not in its entirety, at least.

Take Suguru Geto, for example:

A prodigy of the visual arts. All walks of media and textiles, ranging from photography and all the way up into sculpting with nails and hammers—he had it all on his lengthy résumé. It was what ultimately drew you in about him. 

To say he was gifted couldn’t respectfully cover the way he was renowned in the art community, wholly. It was arranged for him from birth and by what some call an angel’s touch, art graced his natural instincts. His parents, who were nothing short of aristocrats if they were limited by a democratic government. 

So, with that sort of generational wealth, names, titles and overall reputation—it was no surprise that the family poured all of their investments into making him the best. To make him earn his namesake and paint the world the same violet as his deep pools of irises. 

And boy, did he do just that. 

Working tirelessly, day and night on lesson to lesson enrolled by his parents. Repeating the lines over and over, erasing and drawing again, just to draw up the same thing but better each and every single time. 

Until his hands would cramp, until his pencils would run into nubs, until the paint on the walls dried, until he memorized the dimensions of each page by one simple glance at the edges, until he could properly name any hex code based off look alone, until he could tell the type of hair used for each imported brush.

He became the best. Going on to win several academy awards, graduating from the same Ivy League art college with valedictorian and top marks twice—both in entirely different artistic fields. Suguru was nothing short of a God in the art world. Having traveled and seen national level organizations for his works.

But…the exact definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over..and over and over again, expecting a different result each time. 

Having the teachings of art cultures, etiquettes, techniques, customs for countries all across the globe is no small feat. Climbing up that hill, finding out how these different fragrances of creativity are all made, how they smell, how they taste, how they operate, how they bend, break, mold—that was the easy part. That was what he had mastered and conquered. 

All of that achievement and empty, blanking copy paste can never replace finding out..why they do.

Why the cathedral’s architect lives on inside, designing the same structures repeatedly to watch them all mortalize and be gazed upon by the masses of lamb. Why the photographer runs through miles and miles of film each and every day—thousands of prints and hours in that blasted red room, watching the ink settle and make a home out of the light-sensitive paper. Why the painter works with broken brushes and stale paint, just to get the last blank space filled in on the canvas:

Suguru doesn’t have that.

Outside the glitz, the glamour, the initial feeling and rushes of euphoria he drew from that love, that pure adoration that came of his first years exploring and honing his art—there was an ever-present and ever-nearing null that marred his every artistic act.

Dull and gray should never be integrated into an artist’s vocabulary. How could someone who knew color theory like scripture possibly see…monochrome in the very blendings of oil and acrylic that he so adored..?

Had it been the childhood bubble bursting too fast? Being tossed into the jaws of harsh critics, of being taught art in languages he could barely comprehend, his parents..oh, that’s a story for another time. 

All this is to say…he lacked what all artists subconsciously create in their minds, from the moment they give their first swipe of a pencil, stroke of a brush or hell, even chip at a stone—a muse.

Not to quote history but..that’s where you came in. 

In all actuality, you’d entered the narrative before you even knew you were a part of it. 

All those years ago, you too had paid a visit from your neighboring college, volunteering to be a model for the Ivy League. You’d already stood in once, for a day and you were just simply perfect for the job. A natural melt to your skin, making every limb and crevice seem all the more enticing and alluring to any naked eye. 

The talk of the campus you were, everyone couldn’t get the, “model from the 3D painting wing,” off their lips for what felt like forever—even after you’d taken your leave to drive that hour back to your own college.

Well, that school basically lapped at Suguru’s feet. Akin to that of Mr. Water to Wine himself—the students would go out of their way to appeal to his outwardly business-casual and oh-so drawing charms. Everyone wanted to be all up under Suguru. 

However comma, there were possibly two other people who could rank up anywhere close to him in his artistic prowess and popularity. 

Satoru Gojo—a sculpting major whose skills matched Suguru’s easily, if not surpassed at times. Hands of magic and pure precision that had quite literally gone into designing the statues that stood there present day—a parting gift from their now-alumni. 

Then, there was Shoko Ieiri, a woman as sharp and witty as she was cunning and cutthroat. Also the head of the photography and cinematography majors. Dual-enrollment was certainly a perk when it wanted to be—earning her advanced education programs but the ability to cater both specialities separately and furthermore, integrate them together. 

Closer than anything, Satoru was the one who inevitably came barreling into Suguru during passing hour, calling him up to rapt attention as he spewed out the rumors that everyone’s been simply buzzing about. 

“Yeah man, he’s like, totally your type. I think he was jus’ visiting or somethin’ because uh..no one’s seen him around campus,” the albino-haired man relayed, arm lazily slung over his friend’s shoulder as he pulled an elongated frown. “Total bummer—I got to see him ‘n you didn’t~” sing sang.

Suguru only shrugged off the words and failed to remove the latch that Satoru had on his shoulder whilst they stalked through the open courtyard. “Please. You think every model we get is hot, Satoru,” he reasoned to his smug-lipped companion. “What’s the big deal with this one? Oh no wait, let me guess, he blinked your way?” 

No amount of prestige could really conceal entirely the fact that Satoru was..well, a dog. A sly dog. So any sort of evaluation that he gave based on looks alone had to be at least some type of true. Not like Suguru’d admit that out loud. With Satoru’s ego? He’d never hear the end of it. 

“No dude, seriously. I think you should go for it. You’ve got daddy’s money for days,” Satoru drawled, pressing an index from Suguru’s chest and down in a way that made the raven swat his hand away. “I’m sure you could find ‘n get that cutie to come pay your studio a visit.”

Getting to the glass doors of the next wing due for lecture, Suguru simply shrugged, finally getting Satoru off him as the door threatened to close on the more flamboyant of the two. “Yeah, sure. I’ll ask a random art student, ��Come back to model for my school again, I didn’t get to see you the first time’ and he definitely won’t consider a restraining order.”

“Maybe if it comes from Suguru Geto instead of just Suguru, then you might have a better chance. Abuse your power a little, you’ve got status for a fuckin’ reason,” Satoru left off on a slight bitter, lacing his fingers through the back of his hair, beginning to backpedal in the opposite direction of Suguru once reaching the fork in the hallway. “Quit bein’ a pussy and just go for it. Let me know when he rolls back around.”

“You’ll, in fact, be the very last to know on the astronomically slim chance that he does make an appearance in my class, upon my say-so.” it was already too late for trying to get the last word, seeing as Satoru was already disappearing with a small flow a people who wound up swallowing his form in mere seconds. The abrupt and what felt like unfulfilled ending to the conversation made Suguru’s brow flinch downward a tick. 

Blowing off the entire interaction, Suguru did everything in his power—quite successfully, to add—to put the faceless model out of his mind, along with the airheaded words of Satoru’s. 

‘Daddy’s Money’—he was one to talk. 

The hallways were already clearing and Suguru looked lone standing there in the large foyer like it was his first day. Only a flick of his midnight ends over his shoulder and he was carrying himself off to his designated amphitheater. He was working with clay today, so at least there was that to look forward to.

Except..even in the toss and turn of the earthy material, fingers coated in a layer of slip as he toiled away in his own section of the silent session with different scalpels and colors, his mind was only dragging back and back toward the stranger who’s existence he only knew by word of mouth.

It ate at him.

For what felt like an era, he simply ran through the rest of his classes—on autopilot if you will—up until he’d skipped out on walking to his dorms with Satoru. Suguru knew he’d have to face the brazen-tongued man again, even when he went to the dormitories later. 

Why? Well, guess who just so happened to room with him. Yeah, it was an ecstatic idea when they’d first begun to become acquainted, really getting into the swing of things in their friendships and pulling a few strings. As of recent, it had been a bit of the opposite.

Satoru was as nosy as he was talkative. Never would he confirm having a malicious intent but his actions spoke louder than his sugarcoated falsehoods. Even when one sounded sweeter.

So, having to return back there now would evidently put another dent in Suguru’s brain. He’d only revisit the same subject from earlier that had already plagued his daily thought track. All Suguru needed was to clear his head of the whole ordeal—right? 

Forget he ever heard of the mysterious model whom he’d never even got to see. Photos weren’t allowed in the studios, or phones in general when references stepped into the box or simply took position. Definitely not if they were…

Gross, Suguru chastised silently, snapping his thoughts up to the boy’s dormitory, yellow hues draping down the tall building whilst people filed off the courtyard. 

He’d usually wait for Satoru here, see how classes went, ask what’s for dinner, typical dismissal conversation as they made their way. Be that as it may, it wasn’t the most warming of weather and Satoru wasn’t exactly his favorite person at the moment. 

That revelation alone was enough for him to scoff, take a look over at where Satoru was meant to file out of and turn his head directly away. The dorms had a curfew but Suguru could make it—on time or no. 

Suguru’s attention was prejudiced to Satoru in the moment and all he honed in on was taking brisk steps off campus, easily slipping out of the front gates and into the barrening parking lot. Sliding into the driver’s seat, already, he’d received texts from Satoru on his whereabouts and those he brushed off as well.

He couldn’t possibly talk to Satoru, knowing that he’d effectively influenced his actions. How so? Suguru had already pulled up your school. Searching through and skimming to see if your name would’ve shown out as some sort of outlier or staple but..it hit him. 

What was your name? 

Out of everything Satoru had gone and flapped his lips about, your name was never one of them. Great, no name, no face, no nothing. He might as well have gone in and put up a blank missing poster. 

If he went to Satoru about it, then he’d know that Suguru was actually considering what he’d said—or to at least reach out. And to deal with him when his pride was puffed up became unbearable at times. 

Psychologically pacing and refreshing his notifications a few times, he finally opened Satoru’s messages, not to read but to click off and scroll through his contacts. Like most who have a bit of a following or nuance, read receipts weren’t on for Suguru. 

He scrolled for a bit before pulling a relieved smile at Shoko’s name. That woman was like an earth worm, in the sense she heard everything and got every detail for basically anything around campus. She had that personality about her that made one feel as though they could confess their deepest and have it under lock and key.

Whether or not that’s true was all dependent on the person and their own actions.

Though..for this…there was no way she couldn’t help Suguru out. Correction—no way that she wouldn’t help him out. Easily flicking her inbox open, fingers began to type out the message: 

S.G. Hey, need a favor.

S.I. This about that modeling guy, right?

Eyeing his screen up and down for a moment, he was not only caught up on the speed of her reply but the fact she predicted what he was going to say. 

S.G.  …

S.G. He already told you?

S.I.  Of course. When does Gojo not run his mouth to me? 

S.G.  True..but, anyway. I was thinking about things and..

Before he could properly register what he was going to give next:

S.I. Your art block? Yeah. If we think about that then I say you go for it.

S.G. Why are you bringing that up now? This is just another person with a pretty face and some nice collarbones that drive the angle thirsters crazy. Satisfying to put on paper—it’s an art school. I’m simply curious and nothing more. 

There weren’t any quick-witted texts that followed. 

S.G. So..

S.G. Just keep Satoru’s nose out of this one. I’ll address him how I will about the situation but until then, please just keep him in the dark.

S.I. He’s going to find out eventually. 

Always the voice of reason, Suguru groaned in the front of his mind. 

S.G. And by then, it’ll already be a done deal. Just a bit of profile stalking and I’ll be able to get rid of this morbid curiosity. 

S.I. On it, then. Give me 30.

S.G. Thank you.

S.I. Don’t thank me, Geto. I’m simply giving you what you’re asking for.

S.G. Okay, ominous. Turning my phone off now.

And that he did, easily sliding his cellular into the cup holder and running his hands over his face. Taking a deep breath in, his eyes peered through the mirror in the overhead visor. He could see himself there, murky seldom staring back from the reflection before he closed it up, breathing out deeply as he slumped down in the driver’s.

Was he really about to go through with this..? Thoughts slid back to his earlier mention of restraining orders, making a grimace cross his features briefly. 

You’re overthinking it, he chastised to himself, relaxing his posture and coming to lean his head back against the rest. Just then, though, his phone started buzzing in pulses within the hardened plastic of the cup holder. 

His fingers drifted over to lift it up, finding three different links and a singular text that came prior to.

S.I. Just so we’re clear, you got none of this from me.

Underneath it being screenshots of not only an Instagram and courses of study but even your class schedule. 

Now..Suguru has never really researched other people outside of artists whose methods he replicated or integrated into his works. So looking at their social media, lifestyles, past and present school information was nothing. 

Though now, knowing he wasn’t looking for any sort of artistic pursuit—yet—brought a tinge of red to his otherwise milky skin. Hissing out a low sigh, he simply replied:

S.G. Thanks. Don’t know who you are.

Dipping his head back once more, dragging his fingertips through his neck-length, pitch dark tresses, bringing his phone up to lay in his hand closer to the wheel. 

Finally, he worked up the balls to actually click on one of the links—the first—your course of study. Sitting back a bit and setting up his elbow on the window, Suguru pressed his cheek up against his knuckles. 

Then, he started scrolling. 

Turns out, you were..nobody and something big, simultaneously. 

A psychology, as well as a fine art major with a minor in modeling and fashion design. Impressive enough, Suguru went over in his head. Though, only one swipe down and he got to see your pieces.

It took a few blinks to settle in to the ranges he was looking at. If one were to call you “talented”, it would reasonably be insulting for the amount of time and effort that went into each individual product. 

From dresses thread and woven, with impossible stitching patterns enhanced by a good lens—accessory assortments of grandeur—to paintings and even some murals done for interior designs.

Dissecting each detail had to be the highlight of looking at everything his eyes were laid upon. “Holy shit..” the only appropriate breath that Suguru could get out at the moment, soon catching as he went lower.

Your modeling portfolio. 

Typically, models are shown next to the work of the artist but since that was literally your minor, they just had..you. 

Easily the best part of Suguru’s little stalking trip on your college website. But now he did regret not seeing you when you’d initially paid the campus a visit. Satoru..was right. Not like Suguru didn’t get the inkling previously, only now it was much more apparent.

To put in layman’s terms—you weren’t easy to draw. You had the kind of figure that a creator of any artistic field would work days and nights to try and capture in the perfect image. His comment about your collarbones hadn’t been way off either.

You were always adorned in some sort of cloth or something that hung off loosely, transparent in some cases but never quite testing the boundaries of work ethics. 

And always, always equipped with a..blindfold? For each and every photo, painting, it was a repeated and what seemed like mandatory garment.

Suguru took up the phone a bit closer, turning it sideways to even get a clearer view. Head to toe, it was like there wasn’t a thing out of place. The poses that you portrayed and the emotion that filtered through each stance and anatomical placement.

All of it was intentional and he could read that through your body alone. He was wrestling thoughts that he couldn’t pin down and ultimately clicked his phone off, slipping out of his car. The door closed firmly behind him as he hiked his bag up on his shoulder.

Overreacting. Right. He was just overreacting. 

How long had it been since..he got flustered just by looking at someone..? Like a damn teenager, he caught a hint of suggestion and wound up letting that dictate his heart rate. 

Nevertheless—did that stop him from contacting Shoko again to get your number just 30 minutes later? 

No. Of course not.

What did put a halt to his hasty series of events was his own inhibitions. It was already dark at this point— getting there. Suguru was ultimately a stranger to you and he was going to call you up at this estranged hour in order to get you to come model again..? 

It didn’t sound any better no matter how many times he thought it over. What if you asked just how he got your number? 

Times like these, Satoru would’ve been on his shoulder or typing the digits in on his own and tossing it back to him after two rings. 

But he couldn’t risk that with you. He didn’t want to. 

Not after seeing the raw ability that dripped off everything that you created and you, yourself. These factors at play, you still weren’t..known. It certainly wasn’t by coincidence—skills such as yours weren’t hidden so easily. 

A cacophony of different thoughts—even taking a bit to realize he hadn’t even checked the other link nor your class schedule—and Suguru was calmly pacing back and forth behind his car, taking a detoxifying breath as he leaned up against the trunk.

Leap of faith, more like a plummet into the abyss. Never the romantic pursuer, only the charming eye candy, actually wanting to go after someone..ah, correction—wanting someone to “model” for him—wasn’t his jurisdiction.

Once more, Satoru would’ve fit in phenomenally here. He’s always giving and taking numbers—calling each sorority twice in a day one time—easily putting himself out there. 

That wasn’t Suguru.  

The amount of logic Suguru poured into his relationships didn’t allow him to properly just leave the word “love” lying around. With Satoru, you could give him a piece of candy and he’d childishly say he loves you for it. 

When Suguru said the word “love” it was too weighty to even feel right after it left his lips. Casual hookups or flings were considered damn-near impossible to the raven. Standing with shaky hands and breaths, he decided to at least make the call worth it. 

“I’m..Suguru Geto. Not just..Suguru.” he reassured himself aloud. “Right,” breathed as he steadily typed in the number—that Shoko had so graciously handed over—into the keypad of his phone.

Thumb hovering over the green dial button, Suguru gave it a second then a third thought and pressed it. 

Then came the dreaded rings of the call trying.

One, two…three…

Click!

Your voice groggily exhaled out over the line, “Hello?” Already curled up tight in your sheets for an evening nap, you examined your screen, already trying to see if you recognized the number. You didn’t. Probably spam..I’ll prank ‘em if I’m bored enough, you thought up in your faint sleep haze.

“Hi,” Suguru’s voice basically purred over the line. That woke you up. More like woke your body up. “Is this..” gosh, with how he said it, you’d think you were being renamed for a second.

Coughing out a clearing of your throat, you sat upright in your bed a bit. “Yes, this is he..who is this?” you evenly replied.

Suguru’s hand that wasn’t holding his phone adjusted on the hood of his car. “Geto. Suguru, Geto. I believe you modeled for a department at my school not too long ago?” 

Pause button—everyone knows Suguru Geto. The Geto family alone was one of, if not the largest name within the city you were in, hell, in the entire coast to add on. So when you heard his name, there was a small gasp that you took in, soon hoping that it missed his ears.

“Modeling? I uh- uhuh. The campus a bit up north, yes?” hiding the waver to your tone under a mask of uncertainty in your words. “..That was a while back…you..y-you heard of me?” 

No way did you just stutter. You hadn’t stuttered in years—thank goodness for distance because your ears were burning up already, in color and in metaphor. “I did. A colleague of mine..” Suguru glanced off to the boy’s dormitory building that was still shimmering in the far end of the courtyard. “He pointed you out to me. Was real impressed.”

“So..if I may interject,” piping up, your head gave a slight tilt into your phone’s receiver, “Were..you impressed? Is that why you called, sir?”

Scoffing, Suguru rolled his eyes at the honorific, “Please, I’m barely a year your senior—just call me Suguru,” he said, even as he was bringing a hand to the lower half of his face, a mock attempt at clearing the dash of flush there. “And..you could say something like that.”

“Right, because the great Suguru doesn’t throw around his praises so easily,” in a testy, playful lilt.

It must’ve been humorous, seeing as that earned a wry leaving his lips. Had he sized you up too quickly? Suguru expected you to be a bit more..refined, in reference to your works—the seldom in how you took your photos next to them—and for that to transfer into a personality he’d have to chip at.

But it was..so easy to talk to you.

“I give my praises to those who deserve it. Simple as that,” hummed. “But I’ll say that you..piqued my interest, is all.” 

You could tell he was trying to hold up that professionalism with burly arms but even so, his interest that was a little more than piqued with you easily wafted over through his words. “Ah, but..I had…a request.” Don’t fuck up, loud in his head.

“Ask away. I’m honored the Suguru Geto even bothered to call my phone.” a little too honest but it was honest. 

Getting recognized or scouted by someone of his standing was what every small artist dreamt of. Having a conversation with him now didn’t even feel real. What was he going to say next? 

Suguru swallowed down slowly, as if swallowing down every diversion that wanted to continue on his proposition and his lips parted for him to speak once again. “Modeling—would you do it again? I mean..for this school.”

“For your school, you mean?” you’d rephrased lightly, shifting your ankles at a cross on your sheets as you settled your body against your raised knees.

“Uh..yeah. My school.” Suguru could feel his palms sweating—holding his breath. Had he not done enough prep for the ask? It was obvious you knew who he was but to assume your level of intrigue would be..entitled or even run along the thin lines of narcissism. 

Though, it wasn’t so completely obvious that you were underlyingly swooning. Not in the sense you were head over heels, no. Similar to how a piano player would react to seeing the person who wrote their favorite piece of sheet music.

A subtle, cordial freak out.

Too caught up in the question that he’d just asked—what to say following—you only piped up when you realized how longing your silence was becoming. “I-I mean, I’m not declining—in no way declining—but..may I ask..why?”

“You sure do love asking questions,” he smoothed back.

Catching that faint of a purr again, you weakly cleared your throat. “Sorry-”

“It’s a good trait.” adjoining his previous statement too late. “Something that we look for..here. You’ve…sort of been on everyone’s mind on campus and I just..” his voice trailed.

“You just..”

Suguru bit his lip on the other line, trying to figure out he was going to verbalize how exactly he felt about you without sounding blunt but simultaneously not..a bit out of it.

Choosing that the latter was better, he began, moving his phone to his other hand and moving to the side of the car. Getting back in the driver’s, securing the door, he breathed out. “I’m trying to scout you.”

“Scout me?” 

“Yes, that..is what I said,” Suguru nodded along. “I’m just..giving you a chance to be the better that I see.”

An instant warm flash up your neck and spreading across your face, you took a deep breath and completely flopped back down into your pillow. “Why..me, of all?” you sighed solemnly.

“If you make the trip, I can show you. You know the atmospheres of our studios, it’ll be easier to accentuate my point in person, in that environment.” He knew he was starting to sound pushy, so, he leaned his seat all the way back slowly. “So..are you free anytime? If anything, I can make a personal request for you to make the whole attendance situation even out.”

Brushing your wrist over your eyes, you licked your lips absentmindedly. “And how am I to explain my abscence outside of academics..? How do you think my friends will react if I just up and leave?”

Trying not to sound irritated at your insistence, Suguru smiled smally. “I’ll handle that.”

“Aand..work I’ll miss?” 

“Do you want to be escorted over here or shall I press this pretty red button and leave you to your evening?” Well, so much for hiding that irritation.

You caught every wind of it, pressing your tongue along the upper set of your teeth. “Friday works for me.” you finally gave. 

“I’ll make a call,” Suguru calmly put. “In the meanwhile..just uh..text me if you need anything. Do you..need anything?” he hastily added.

You shook your head, quickly switching to a soft “No, Suguru,” whenever you realized he couldn’t exactly see your silent negation. “That’ll be all.”

Suguru could sense the tension that now lingered in your words. Leave on good terms. “I’ll..be looking forward to our next meeting. Truly.”

“…Me too,” said gently, “Have a good night, Suguru Geto.” 

“And the reciprocal, but..if I may, one little question.” 

“Proceed, cautiously.”

Forcing his heart to stop overlapping with your voice, he spoke all in one breath, “Why the blindfold?”

To this day, you still deny that that gasp left you when he asked. Immediately, an exhale, “Good night, Suguru.” and dial tone click.

The very first thing that you did was turn fully over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow and giving one good and entirely justified scream. Both out of frustration and fluster. It was really starting to set in that you’d just been scouted by the Suguru Geto. 

Your body was just as animated, feet fluttering with light thuds down onto the mattress to coincide along your little fit. When you finally got the last bit of audio out of your lungs, you peered your eyes over your forearm. Looking through your strands that obstructed a bit of your vision, you got a concerned and mildly condescending side glance from your roommate.

The classical bookworm who was increasingly more wizened than the average enabler of your surrounding parties. A pretty blond, Greek art historian and poet: Kento Nanami. Or your life-long confidant and companion. 

You two had essentially grown up side by side. Two anti-socialists who found connection through the intricacies of creation. “Best friends” would be nothing if not inappropriate to describe your bond. Though, lovers is far from the truth. 

Nanami was the voice of reason and the person who kept your head screwed—relatively—tight on your shoulders. 

Though, that voice of reason can get grating. Which it was now as he looked up from his desk, taking off those thinly framed glasses that had been assisting him with the literature on the dark polished mahogany. “You know that you can’t just fly under the radar for an entire day, yes?”

“I can..and will.” you snipped.

“No need to throw me on the bad side of the tracks. I’m just saying that you should think this through more,” the stale faced man reasoned. “And given how you didn’t bother to see if I was listening, I’m assuming you wanted me to try and talk you out of it.”

Scoffing, you swung your legs over your bedside, standing to your feet and giving a long stretch of the arm that’d been holding your phone recently. “I don’t need you to talk me out of anything. This..this can be good. For both of us.”

“It sounds like he’s solely interested in you. Or your, quote, ‘modeling.’”

“Why is there quote around modeling? Listen, you’re the pessimist and I’m not. I can put in a good word or two for you while I’m there, as well.” taking a few steps closer, you rested the flats of your fingers onto your hip. 

He spun his chair to face you fully, leaned back with his hands folded on the chair between the parting of his legs. “A good tongue flip or two, more like.”

“Vulgar.”

“Is that not the connotation?” he immediately retorted.

A sharp roll of your eyes to the right and you were letting off a sigh—looking off for a moment before falling back onto him. “It’s not like that. I won’t let it be like that. This is purely artistic, plus, what are we going to do in a public studio, Nanami?”

He gave his own version of a sigh, more like just a short breathy exhale in other words. Now he knew you were getting up in arms already given how you used his last instead of his first or your name for him. 

Choosing his next words carefully, he soon unfolded his hands, dipping them out in an ‘Oh well’ fashion. “Right. You know best.”

“Don’t do that.” you bit. 

“There’s nothing you need me to talk you out of so..go for it. You had fun the last time..I don’t know why I thought it would be otherwise.” your expression reluctantly softened and the cut to your gaze dulled. 

Shaking your head, you spun his chair around snaily, leaning over to the side to grab his glasses. Easily sliding them in place by tucking some of those silky blonde strands out of the way.

“…Sorry. I know you have reason to worry but…have a little faith in me, Nami.” you reassured in a softer breath than prior. “Promise I won’t get myself into any trouble. This is just another creative learning experience to me.”

“Yeah, with your idol.” given dryly. Already taken up his richly inked fountain pen once more, he peered over his shoulder to view you a bit better.

Your lips immediately pressed into a smile of withdraw. It caught Nanami a bit off for a tick. “With those glasses, you really do look better. Like how you did in highschool.”

“Changing the topic on me?” he pressed, even so, still bringing his index up to his nose bridge to push the frames further into security. “Either way, I might go back. Contacts aren’t so time efficient.”

“Well then, sounds like you have more important things to worry about, huh?” you chimed, giving an affirming two pats to his shoulders before leaning up straight again. “Stick to the books, writer boy.”

Finally choosing to high road, he took that last jab in silence and this time, just putting his headphones in as you retreated back to your own bed—mirroring. 

Although it seemed you both knew there were going to be certain boundaries and guidelines for the upcoming—there was clearly already outlines of a blockade forming between you and Nanami over it. 

But..you doubted that it would ever be truly significant. It was one with the other, always a package deal. You’d make sure of that.

“Night, Nami.” there his name was. Right back in its rightful place on your lips. 

Just before he clicked play he uttered the same and was right back to his rhythmic scritching in his—preferably leather-bound—sketchbook. Although it was a sketchbook, it was accounted as an official class notebook as well. You’ve been a feature more than a few times, in multiple.

That pretty much concluded your night but Suguru was still in the midst of dealing with a Satoru that wasn’t too fond of the extra—if not over—2 hours unaccounted for in that parking lot and even after.

Getting back into the building was easy since the security were—practically—running on his parent’s dime but also weren’t necessarily too foreign to turning blind eyes to Suguru’s affairs. The only problem presented itself after he got back into his own dorm.

Lights off, cartoons running on the living room television as the snowy-haired man sat on the couch with a perched hand under his chin. Satoru’d already heard him shoving his keys in the door and now he was more alert than the half-asleep state he’d been wading in and out of beforehand.

“And here I thought you’d gone missing. Shame.” catty as ever, never pulling those glacial blues off the flashing colors that the screen threw out in its frames. 

The air was faintly tense, not trying to let Satoru get the inkling that he’d been out for nefarious reasons—Suguru bent down at the door and softly waited until the latch clicked. His fingers went to his dress shoes, deftly pulling the laces loose. “Already with the attitude? What are you, five?”

“Five, what a number. About the same number representing the time we meet after classes. You know, at the end of the day, together.” Now, Satoru was turning to face his newly-arrived roommate, crossing arms over his chest and cocking his head of at an angle.

A bat of Suguru’s lashes and he was standing back up fully, peeling his school-affiliating sweater down off his shoulders and undoing the two buttons that had held it together at his front.

“Something came up, didn’t have time to text you.” he breathed, taking his hair down from that pinned-up bun and draping his sweater over the back of a dining chair. 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Satoru sneered. “You always have time to text me—you just didn’t and I want to know why.” Of course he was going straight into this sorry interrogation attempt. He was just being nosy and going about it in an accusatory guise.

Having went through this same broken record a thousand times over, “Calm down, Satoru. I was out for a little longer than usual and now what? You’re all of a sudden some..some sort of disappointed parent?”

The television finally got lowered after that—shut off completely in fact as Satoru got to his feet, jamming his hands into the pockets of his house shorts. In about three steps he was inches away from face to face with Suguru. Eyes at a bladed angle, they flicked down and up the more unaffected party.

“I am calm.” he punctuated between his teeth.

“And, that vein in your forehead totally isn’t about to burst,” Suguru retorted. “Can you just be alright with me saying ‘I was out’ and ask me how my day went or something?”

Tapping his fingers in a roll over his bicep, Satoru’s tongue did one swipe along the back of his teeth. “Okay, Suguru. I won’t press you, matter of fact—I’ll wait until you’re ready to have this conversation. Or any conversation.”

“Seriously? Silent treatment? Who would that truly benefit in the long run? Let’s stop this petty bickering, Satoru. I’ve had a long day and so have you.”

Jamming a finger into Suguru’s chest, Satoru pulled a wry in passive aggression. “Right, like you’d even know how my day went—you were barely there. Shoko and I even had the time to go out to eat after classes ended.”

That made Suguru pause for a moment. Had Shoko been right next to him while… 

Blinking the thought away, Suguru put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“…How?” raised a curious eyebrow.

“I’ll pay your cafeteria fee for a month.” 

Satoru’s eyes switched between the marble plum depths of Suguru’s. “Are you trying to..bribe me?”

“Depends, is three months enticing enough for you?” Suguru pried, poorly concealing the way his lips were starting to peel back. “Come on, you know you’re the richest cheapskate I know.”

Kissing his teeth at the backhanded undercurrent, Satoru pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m not so easily bought but I’ll consider this a rental. Whatever, Suguru.”

“I haven’t ‘rented’ anything in quite some years now.” purred back, as the raven slipped past the diffused situation, patting him on the back. It was nothing to make his way into the hallway that housed either of their rooms on each side. 

It looked smaller from the outside, though that could’ve been because the lavish bathrooms were inside said accomadations. And as Suguru’s tired feet dragged him to his door, he gently twisted the knob to sleuth in. 

Only there did he have a slow moment—a hand up to his chest was all the information needed to tell the bullet he’d really dodged. Several, even.

But that wasn’t out of the ordinary. To make it out barely scathed among a landmine of minūt and first-world issues. And frankly, Satoru was about as first-world as it got. It was one of his greatest strengths and—though he’d comment on the word—weaknesses.

Suguru knew how to play cards right to not make it seem like he was directly looking down on him but at times, his actions spoke louder than well..anything. 

Though, undressing and getting down to his boxers before sitting on the edge of his bed, Satoru was the last thing on his mind. He dug around in his dresser for a moment, pulling out his signature box of tobacco cigarettes and a lighter gifted to him by Shoko herself.

Allowing himself a moment to light the small flicker flame and lean back to give the ceiling a staring contest, the end of the wrapped up stress-reliever shortened with a hiss. Ash darkened the sections that had been snuffed of flame, now replaced with embers in Suguru’s lungs.

Taking his hand down and coming to lay fully back on his king-size, he blew out the smoke into the moonlit air—just a sliver behind those velvety curtains that he’d had personally installed. His eyes caught on the trail that hung and strangely, he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of the stupor that was…you.

Stupors technically have a negative feeling when they’re described but in this context, it was closer to wading through a hot spring for the first time. Unknown sensations at the bottom, warmth and new waters on the surface. Overall, something new.

A new flavor in the palette of the glutton.

Of course..it was impossible for him to place whether the bitter or sweet was stronger when it came to..you. Whether there was a cure hidden in your symphony of layers or poison that was laced within the depths of the journey he wanted to embark on—finding out just who you are. But he’d get a taste of you, the real you, sooner or later. For now..all he had to worry about was getting you into his studio—or the studio, that is.

————

Masterlist || ....

A/N: Have no fear, Deep Faker is on the way next, lol. But uhm..yeah, this happened. Call it a bad case of yearning or simply artistic motivation but please, embark with me.

[lvrgirl-inc]

🝮 Psst, hiya 🝮

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

Drabblings

Screen Slaver — Gamer Husband!Satoru oneshot(s)

Kisses 'N Kunts — Knk-y Jjk Women x f!readers

Stained Fabrics — Jjk x Crybaby readers

Dry Season — Jjk Men x Dry Humping f!readers

Join Me In Death

❝ Won’t you die tonight for love? ❞

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

[ I am a strictly NSFW writer..! This page is not suitable for minors or those who are underaged, sorry not sorry, lovies..! Do not copy, steal, or repurpose any of my works, that's just plain rude, honey. ]

[lvrboy-inc]

“Pierce the Blood”

“Sleeping with Insomniacs”

“Three Days Left of Grace”

“Get Sleep”

I can go on with this delicious take, though the puns might become insufferable. 😭

[kamiversee]

OMG YESSS ORIGINAL KAMI STORY WOULD BE AWESOME

Especially considering you're friends with loverboy.inc they have such a juicy story rn

I WILL SELL MY NON EXISTENT LEFT NUT FOR THIS 🙏

Also if possible fem love interest 🥺🙏🙏🙏

- 🐶

IM EXCITED FOR IT!! I’ll give y’all some details abt it later <33

I’m the one who convinced loverboy.inc to download tumblr sooo 🧚 & thts the person I’m collaborating with!!!

AHHHH FEM LOVE INTERESTTSUSMA, I wish but nah… there is some mlm tho 😅

[lvrboy-inc]

Loverboy Presents

Color of Eternity ; Masterlist

sum • A gluttonous artist Suguru and a muse whose value lies at the end of said artist’s brush. Wrapped up in an entanglement of web spiraling ever down into the world of raw artistry.

pov • m!reader

detail • Multi-part series, ongoing, heavy themes, mlm, smut, jjk fanfics, x reader, college au timeline, poetry.

Hex

[ #081B45 ]

[ ——— ]

[ ——— ]

[ ———]

[ ———]

@lvrboy-inc on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[lvrboy-inc]

“偽顔” — Yama

꒰: Précis | Middle-aged, existential, train wreck office worker diving head first into the club scene. One night of debauchery and a “You only live once” attitude turns out more problems than ever before. Torn between two worlds and wondering if he should try the pill one..more..time…

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Strong language, suggestiveness in the sexual regard, + heavy drug usage, angst, yearning, heavy history, office affair..[Ecstasy, Nose sugar, Alcohol, etc.] Tread carefully~!!

File Archive

⌗ ✉.ᐟ.ᐟ 001

⌗ ✉.ᐟ.ᐟ 002

⌗ ✉.ᐟ.ᐟ 003

⌗ ✉.ᐟ.ᐟ 004

⌗ ✉.ᐟ.ᐟ 005

@lvrboy-inc on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[lvrboy-inc]

[lvrboy-inc]

꒰: Précis | Middle-aged, existential, train wreck office worker diving head first into the club scene. One night of debauchery and a “You only live once” attitude turns out more problems than ever before. Torn between two worlds and wondering if he should try the pill one..more..time…

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This file contains strong language, suggestiveness, [ CW : Alcohol, passing mentions of hard drugs ] Tread carefully~!!

꒰: Word Count ; 3.5k

★ File Archive

Case File 001

This mysterious stranger to my right..why can I remember her looking different when we kissed..?

Slumped against this wall, head was pounding like a drum to a beat that long since faded out. Sunlight poured in through the large windows that sat high up above the abandoned floors of the night club which now lay riddled with broken glass, heels, condom wrappers and fluids that could’ve been traced back to nowhere.

Whenever I tried to move it felt like God himself was pulling my limbs back down. Then, with only a slight shift, I managed to catch a glimpse of what—or who rather—was the true cause of it. 

A woman..?

Her hair was mussed but the striking platinum blond that draped over my shoulder struck a memory that gave a throb from my brain—caught several frames of her and I the night previous. All blurred and just barely visible of what the hell we had done.

She looked so peaceful there though..her breathing almost undetected save for the warmth that spread over my skin under my shirt whenever she exhaled. It was grounding, soothing almost.

The last thing I wanted to do was move right now. Anything but that. To savor this moment of stillness and ignorant bliss that offered as a blindfold for the fool I acted under the cover of night..but alas, it was a work day.

“Hey..” That harsh rasp..it felt like my throat would tear if I spoke just an octave higher. In order to combat that, I resorted to basic nudging, dragging my fingers languidly through the tresses of her mesmerizing locks. My eyes were too dull to properly convey my ogling—maybe that was a good thing for once. “Hey..they’re closing up…” 

Ultimately, my vocal track ended there. Why? I’d been hit with the realization I didn’t remember the poor girl’s name. 

Man, I felt like an asshole. If she didn’t remember mine then maybe that’d make me feel a bit better about this whole thing.

Slowly but surely, she started to stir, letting out soft groans as her nose brushed against my shoulder and then to the crook of my neck. As much as I would have adored to relish in her vulnerability, I simply couldn’t. Not with how the sun was basically ushering me to make some sort of move, not when the light of day was giving me an alarm of its own.

When her face did finally lift up to meet mine, I saw the dark pools there. Tantalizing, like they were drawing me in even when she looked as relatively debauched and rung out as I did—though she made it look far more attractive than I was currently.

“Hiro..” She softly cooed out. Ah, so we did end up exchanging names…well that makes my own amnesia a lot more hauntingly obvious. “Time..?” 

The time. Right. 

My hand instinctively went to my pocket, feeling around there for a decent while until coming to the shitty epiphany that it’d been lost. Not even misplaced but given the current lack of piecing together events and the sheer daze from my hangover, it might as well have been considered lost. Looking back at her, I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s early.” I said simply, finally willing myself to get to my feet.

Taking a better look around, it was exactly the picture of ‘Morning After’.

Drunks passed out every which way, the scent of faded bumping, grinding, LED colored hazes, sex and sin lacing every breath I took. Now dimmed out under the smell of chemicals that was rising from the janitorial crew making their sweeps through the scene.

From a few feet away I could hear the retching of alcohol poisoning fighting back, only slightly muffled by a soothing voice that cooed over it. 

The woman had stood up as well, taking a claw through her hair and adjusting it in a way that made the tangles look like they belonged there. My eyes couldn’t stand the way they drank her in. 

More. I’ve got to know more. 

“Hey, you uh..wouldn’t mind if I hitched a ride with you, miss…” I trailed off and she gave me a slight roll of her eyes. We both knew I forgot her name.

But, with those tantalous, void eyes, she looked back at me and said, “Reid. Miss Reid—if you’re insistent on keeping professionalism after last night.” Her tone was getting more agitated by the second but just—subtly. 

Giving a wave of my hands in front of me, I brought one hand to the side of my neck, glancing over to the side. “Right. Miss Reid, it wouldn’t bother you too much if I went ahead and caught a ride home with you..would it..?” 

A huffed, “Sure, Hiro.” and she moved for her phone in the small purse she’d brought along with her. Reid side stepped me to get past and immediately began to drag me along by my wrist.

Along the way, I saw various remnants of—little less than legal—substances in several different forms and sizes. From bags of marijuana and crushed up pills to rolled up dollar bills that I was sure were meant to be green rather than stained with white.

What compelled me to come to such an establishment in the first place..?

Nevertheless, Reid tugged me along until we were outside the double doors and she quickly let go, reaching for her phone that she’d held in the other. “Where do you need to go?” She snipped.

“I don’t think I..want to give my address.” Was the first thing I’d said.

“You think I’ll try to find you or something?” 

Side sweeping my eyes for just a moment, I shrugged. “..It’s a possibility.”

“Trust me, I’m not privy to being oblivious as to what,” She gestured a manicured finger between the both of us. “This is, Hiro. You don’t have to worry about that happening, ever.”

Well, ouch.

Either way, she handed me her phone so I could type my address in, not before adding in, “You can delete it from searches when you’re done, if that makes your ego feel a little better.” I didn’t even argue, just typed my address into the bar and sent a ride our way. 

Luckily, my wallet had survived the night. 

Making her pay for my ride home after this would just be downright unchivalrous.

When I’d finished putting my info in and—may or may not have—deleted my address and card number off it, I gave it back to her. She took it calmly and slipped it back into her bag with a breathy sigh. 

How she still looked so untouched by the actions of last night—looks wise and the look in her eyes—was unknown to me. It was as if she’d done this before. “Look, miss Reid, I’m sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way but.. it wasn’t my intention. Forgive me for these unfortunate circumstances and let’s move on.”

“People usually ask for forgiveness—not demand it,” Readjusting her shimmering, rosé golden Van Cleef, she put her hand on her hip. “Surely you know basic manners. After spending such a night with me and ultimately forgetting all about who I was—the least you can do is ask for forgiveness..”

My eyes fell slant as I cocked the mildest of eyebrows at her. “Can you..please forgive me for my..forgetfulness?” I wasn’t trying to sound sarcastic but with the deadpan in my voice, I could see why she then responded how she did.

“Not if you don’t mean it.”

“And what would convey to you, I do?” In that moment, I managed to pour a bit of emotion into it. She’d gotten the alert that the car was on the way, coming in 2 minutes at most. 

She turned the other way, crossing her arms boldly over her chest. “Try and remember. Ciao.” Just as she said that, she was waving down the driver and confirming the ride. I kept my eyes downcast as I walked behind her, then climbing into the backseat.

The conversation between them went on as if I wasn’t even there. 

“Yep, I’ll cover any of the extra fees but the rest is on his card. I’ll send you my number for anything further.” Leaning halfway into the car, she was speaking to the man who’d drove up in a 2021 Honda Civic Hatchback and was in the process of stubbing out a cigarette.

I watched her nose scrunch up at the stench but she kept talking as if she didn’t mind it at all. “He’s gotten way in over his head, see to it he makes it to the door.” With that, she went and threw in an extra 20 for the hassle and the driver rolled up the window.

“You lost that?” He chuckled gruffly, shaking his head as he shifted into drive.

With a loud thud, my head hit the window and I groaned lightly. “I hope not.” 

He gave no other comments after his small fit of laughter died down for a second time. 

Driving home, I realized just how far out I’d come. Taking train stop after train stop..it was earlier before the club even made a pass through my head. 

No thoughts clouding my mind just..tracks and scenery. Trekking and just booking pass after pass, ticket after ticket at random and going where the rails took me. All those stations, all that track…and yet I still can’t get her out of my head.

“Oí, you’re running that woman’s tab up if you keep on starin’ out into the void like that, pal,” The driver interrupted my thoughts and I guess I had zoned out for a while—we were already at the curb of my apartment. “C’mon, I already got another route to pick up.”

Casting a look that was just a bit too nasty, I grumbled out a thanks and opened the door up. First slumping out a tad, then I was finding my footing and closing the back door, patting myself down to make sure I hadn’t left anything a second time. Seeing that I hadn’t, I slipped past the trunk and started making it to the lobby of my apartment complex—very pristine on the outside but barely above average from inside the flats. 

Just as he was instructed, he stayed out there until I dipped behind the glass doors, then pulling out back into the main road. I looked off, watching him go as I turned back to the receptionist, fishing my keys and ID out of my pocket. 

“Come on, Mr. Deimos, you don’t think I recognize your face by now?” The young lady chimed out.

Meet Kira, our receptionist and also a sophomore in college who I’d been tasked with tutoring as per request (and payment) of my roommate. She was charming but far too in denial of her blatant and blunt approach to things. I keep my cordiality with her for the sake of not getting on the bad side of my roommate’s sister.

Adjusting my tie—that I’d fixed in the car—I slid my ID across the counter with no further actions. “It’s not a matter of recognition but the safety of the other tenants walking around here,” I said, buttoning the cuffs of my shirt. “What if I pulled a ‘Mask Off’ with some deranged character?”

“Seriously? ‘Mask Off’? As in Keanu Reeves, ‘Mask Off’?” She specified.

Shrugging my shoulders, I watched her pick up the ID scanner from its slot. “Uhuh, and you would never know. Would be a shame if one little slip up got you in such hot water.” 

Giving a light scoff, I heard the small beep of the scanner go off. “You’re too damn philosophical for me.”

“Well, take it as a little pushback for calling me by my sur. You know how I feel about it.” I said with a small bite. 

Her hands deftly slid my card back to me and I put it inside my wallet, jingling my keys when I waved her off. I took my way back to the elevator, seeing someone standing there with his face buried into his cellular.

Getting a closer look, I could see clearly one of many tenants. But, this one was slightly…off.

I’d known him since I moved here that fateful day in the summer all those years ago. He briefly introduced himself and I’d never seen him again, really—despite living just down the hall. 

His flat was at the very end of the hallway, where the balconies let out, whilst mine was located somewhere between the front and upper section of the floor.

“Long time, no see, Hiro.” Raising his head up slowly, I got the to see his face again.

Lengthy, jet-black hair with a bit of a blond peekaboo and undercut. He had his hair up in a half-up half-down style to where the blond was more visible. Along with that, his studded earrings—a cuff or two.

Even on his face—I’d counted before—he had about six. Two on one eyebrow, a septum, angel fangs, and two shark bites. 

All in all, he had a style.

Seeing the floor light coming back down to us overhead on the elevator doors, I nodded, leaning against the opposite wall. “Yeah. Pleasure to see you..again. How have you been, June?”

“Peachy. Especially after..what has it been, almost 5 years now?” I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely inquiring or just trying to take a jab at what might’ve, perhaps, been mild ghosting.

Glancing off to the side, I laughed disingenuously. “It was a necessary time away, if anything.”

“For five years? After one incident?” He pressed.

The last thing I needed now was to go on yet another apology tour. For that, I was thankful the bell to the elevator tolled and about three people filed out. That left June and I to step in. It was only us and we both knew what floor we had to go to, so I stepped back into the far corner of the box. 

June took the initiative to select our floor but just before he did, he selected the floor right under it. 

Pettiness was an art, truly.

“Can you not count properly..?” I asked—only realizing how rude that was once it was out in the air already.

“My finger slipped.” He gave back, not at all sounding remorseful for his little ‘slip-up’. Next, he clicked the correct floor and the doors slid shut. In another moment, we were in motion. “Is this about..”

Darting my eyes up to him, I furrowed my brows to Hell. “It’s not about anything.”

“We were in high school, Hiro. How can you still blame me? Because I called you my muse once..because I said those three, insignificant little words?” The recollection of events wasn’t doing any favors for—not only my hangover���but my attitude.

Alright…maybe I knew him past this complex.

Sliding up, my eyes fell on the buttons that were still being illuminated with each floor passed—7 more to go. “You’re the reason I’ll never play again and you think being flippant about the whole ordeal will magically fix things?”

“I thought that maybe if you weren’t still so hung up on things that already happened—we could play again.”

A laugh left me that was almost genuine. Almost. “Why? You still believe in that, ‘string + percussion’ bullshit you spat at me all that time ago? For all you are concerned—I burned that damned violin and every memory that every touched its strings..or bow.”

Two more floors left.

“Did you, now? Never took you for such a poet,” He purred, bringing his fingers up to adjust his septum. “Or liar.”

All I did was bawl my fists up at my sides, listening to the bell give its chime and call the elevator to a halt at the first—wrong—floor. No one came in, so, they fell back to a shut. “And how would you know? Since you’re Mr. Know It All, let’s hear it,” Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my gaze at him. “Let me guess—you think that because you can’t let go that I can’t either?”

“Would that be too far off?” He questioned.

A moment of silence and I spoke flatly, “Don’t be so fucking vain.” 

Just as I finished off my sentence, the elevator doors slid back open and he slithered out: myself following behind. Briskly, I pushed past to hurry up and get to my door but his hand shot out to tug me back.

It was easy to slap my wrist out of his grasp and take a step or two backward. “I liked the distance I set for..this. I’ve been more euphoric in these past five years, acting like you’re dead, than I did when you were the only escape I had.”

“You think you’re so entitled to my emotions because you were the first..my first everything? You’re a spoiled fucking brat and I’d appreciate if we could continue moving throughout our lives like phantoms of one another.” I narrowed my eyes into a harsh slant—all of my features most likely speaking louder than anything. “We were stupid kids. To fuck around with you ever again would destroy any progress I’ve ever made.”

The set of his jaw adjusted and I watched the hard swallow that followed with it. He snatched his hand back and scoffed, blowing a few strays from over his amber irises. “Playing pretend like I don’t exist won’t fix any problems you still got lingering over simple shit.”

“Sim- Simple shit?” I gave him one last look over and shook my head, rolling my tongue over my teeth.

And with a turn on my heel, I moved from the elevator lobby on our floor and cut the corner to section off into my side of the apartment numbers. Of course he wanted to pull this right before I turn up to work already late.

He didn’t call for me or anything, just sighed oh-so heavily and waved me off, soon sauntering off into his respective direction.

Upon reaching my front door, I grumbled incoherent curses under my breath as I fiddled with my key set. “He could’ve kept his ignorant mouth shut but nooo. Everyone wants to work Hiro’s nerves on a Monday.” Finally sliding my key into the lock with a mild crunch, I twisted it to the right and pushed open the creaky wood.

“Wynn! I’m home,” I called over the flat, raking my hand through my hair. My keys found their holster on the rack and I slipped my casual shoes off, lightly scanning the apartment for any signs of life.

To no surprise, I saw him right on the couch. With his online course work opened on his laptop, he had properly dozed off. Getting closer, I crouched down by the arm of the couch, just beside his head. “Hey, these aren’t going to finish themselves, y’know.”

“Yeah..yeah…funny comin’ from the dude who’s almost 2 hours late to work..” He grumbled out in response, curling the blanket even tighter around himself. “Where were you last night, Hiro..? Did you see Kira when you walked in..?”

A soft smile dawned on my lips, my eyes flitting as I analyzed his fatigued features. “I…I made a few good choices and..a lot of bad decisions,” I remarked with a sigh, fluffing his pillow just a bit as I gave him a more comfortable resting position. “Kira is as she always is—easily irritable and ever the curious one. Or..nosy, you could say.”

“Mhmm..” He groggily nodded along. Already on the track to head back to the realm of REM, he gestured over to my empty and open bedroom. “Uniform’s on the bed..lunch is packed—your ID is clipped to your collar. Have a good day, Hiro.” 

With those words, he was right back to sleep in an instant—blissfully and quietly putting off his work for when he woke back up. 

I took it upon myself to stand back to full height and crack my neck. I’d never missed a single day of work—and I sure as hell wasn’t going to start now—so, I stalked over to my room, gathered up my uniform and slipped into the bathroom that was connected to it. 

Hanging my garments up on the towel rack by their hangers, I undid my sullied white button-down, pulling it up and over my head. Everything seemed in order from the neck to just above my belt.

But when undoing that and taking one brief glance lower—I knew I’d fucked up.

There were bite marks all over. I immediately sucked my teeth and shook my head in disbelief. Not at the fact they were there—but the pattern of it. All the locations and the shape of them…I knew it was June.

 “I need to sober the fuck up.” 

My hands darted out to the sink handles, switching the cold water on as I splashed it on my face. They were shaking as I cupped them together and finally planted them on the countertop. 

And for a moment, I just stood there. 

Not only did I realize that I’d made the most detrimental mistake of my life—but now there’s possibly another woman in the fray.

It was a workday. 

And a monday at that. 

Case File 001 : Closed.

A/N: A brand new adventure to embark on at Loverboy Incorporated. Lots of points to develop here but the layout is set for an emotional roller coaster. (You think that June stalks Hiro’s insta? lol). I won’t put a tag for the sexualities involved yet—for the plot. 📁

[lvrboy-inc]

⋆ Saccharine ⋆

“Darling, I’m wasting my youth.”

꩜ Hysterics ꩜

Sweetest Sin ; Jjk

Sakura Flowers ; Origin

Color of Eternity ; Jjk

Deep Faker ; Origin

Follow @lvrgirl-inc for candid NSFW + f!reader content.

<< If my bio does not make it conclusive—I am an NSFW writer. This is not a minor-safe page, 98% of my works contain mature content, so skiddadle. If you choose to stay afterward, that’s at your own discretion. >>

[lvrboy-inc]

“Twenty-Eight” — The Weeknd

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains strong language, underage smoking, angst.

꒰: Word Count ; 1.2k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 7…

The rest of the night ensued in silence for a good hour or so, as I’d requested for the sake of my own mind not splitting in two from not only the embarrassment but the processing of events that had yet to sink in. He had tried to give me ‘aftercare’—cuddling, holding my hands, massaging my back—which genuinely made me feel nauseous. Instead, I had told him to step out into the backyard with me for a smoke.

He was like a sulking puppy when I’d rejected his attempts at a normal aftermath of what had ensued. When we had come to a compromise, it wound up with me having more reddened, wet bite marks across my chest and stomach. Honestly. It was as if I was actually dealing with an animal; not even in the hot way either.

Of course, one little fuck doesn’t change an entire person’s life, their sexuality, who they are. So I was far from falling for him. What? Did you think I’d forgotten about bout my analogy already? God no.

We sat, perched on the lowest step of the backyard porch, looking out over the stretch of grass that moved into the lake resting as the center for every house surrounding it. The sun had long since set and my parents had cleaned every trace of the night so, they were bound to be as deadbeat tired as I was—alright, maybe not as much as me—meaning they’d be sound asleep by now.

Marko finally kicked out one of the small tobacco-filled darts, then another. He lit up his own, turning to me and curling his fingers around the back of my neck as he pulled me in closer. Slipping mine into my mouth, he touched the end of his to it, holding it there until the end began to grow that soft red hue. Pulling back slowly, he took the initial drag, exhaling as if he’d been craving it since he walked through the door.

All I could do was follow his lead and take small puffs here and there. Neither of us had really bothered to put our shirts back on; the house was hot and when we had gotten outside, we were grateful for that aspect. Feeling the cool night air rustling our hair and providing a blanket of chill that was needed.

It was silent for the most part but I could feel his eyes on me, so, naturally, “You know, you have a really bad staring problem..” I said, training my focus to the subtle ripples of the water that sat just a few yards in front of us. All that came from him was a low chuckle in which he averted his gaze.

“Sorry, just admiring my handiwork.” He replied, leaning back and letting another trail of the gray fog escape his lips and hang in the air before being swept away by the wind. The comment made me flush but I tilted my head forward so that my hair could act as a curtain to hide that fact.

As much as I wanted to stay in this moment, to just let it be, I couldn’t, in good conscience, let my thoughts remain unsaid.

My lips parted with a small huff to which I swallowed down my inhibitions with. “We can’t..do this. You know that..right?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Do what? Fuck?” He immediately asked back, lowering his cigarette filled hand and ashing it onto the ground. Then his eyes found mine. We both just..sat there. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say but..God knows this wasn’t right.

I had to do this. For mine and his sake. “Be together, Marko.” The words finally came and the weight of them was already felt in the openness of the outdoors. “This..thing we have..it’s not healthy. It will never be healthy, for either of us. If you were just some other person, if you were a girl that I could actually parade around and use for my benefit—” Although I knew that I was manipulative, voicing the fact that I usually only used women for an upper-hand made me pause before I continued.

“If you weren’t you..if I wasn’t..me..” My voice lacked the conviction that I was trying to convey, seemingly falling through in the boring of his gaze. “Then maybe we could have been something. But you’re the son of my father’s mistress. I can’t..I just can’t do that.”

His face fell, like a chain reaction. All of the aloofness had faded and an unreadable expression spread across his features. “You and I aren’t good for each other and I’m not good for anyone,” At last, the firmness in my voice returned. “And..in reality..? You were right..you are right. About everything I stand for. You see right through me, you read me like an open book in a way I’ve never fucking experienced, Marko.” 

Moving my hand up to his face, I looked into those hazels that had now dimmed in the light of the moon, just..looking. Rejection always came so easy to me. It was something I’d grown accustomed to more times than I could ever count. So why the hell am I struggling?

“Then that’s even more reason for me to stay by your side, Azura! I don’t care if we’re not healthy, because who the fuck is? You can’t just drop this whole thing! What about the plan, what about—” I quieted him by pressing our lips together, tasting the dried herbs on his and my tongue as I savored the moment..knowing it’d be the last.

When I finally pulled away..I could see tears in his eyes. Fuck, don’t look at me like that.. I thought to myself, not at all wanting to mirror his expression.

“You’re a liability to me, Marko. That’s all you have been..that’s all you ever will be. We’re not star crossed lovers and we’re definitely not Romeo and Juliet..we’re just..” My vocabulary fell short at that moment as there was a slight tremble in my voice. “Victims of our environments..so don’t make this any harder and just..let me go.” 

I stood up, dropping my cigarette to the grass, grinding it out and trying my hardest not to look back when I turned away. “I’ll call you a car in the morning but after that..just act like we never met.”

My feet carried me inside as I slid the back door open and closed..and even as I walked away, I could hear his silent, choked crying. All I could do was take myself out of earshot and back to bed. This was for the best..right? Right.

Falling in love was always going to be a curse for me. To anyone involved with me and me with them. And with Marko..it would be the greatest guilt I’ve ever felt. I don’t feel guilt. Hell, before I met him, I barely felt anything at all besides sympathy for myself, detachment and anger. Being introduced to all of these emotions now was..never something I wanted. He wanted to give me the moon, the sky and the stars when all I wanted was to be buried in the Earth.

I would never let him make the mistake of falling so hard for me because..I could never be there to catch him before he bled out.

<< Back Next >>

[lvrboy-inc]

“Elastic Heart” — W.B.W.

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains angst, underage (18) drinking, fluff, redemption(?). Tread carefully.

꒰: Word Count ; 7.7k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 11.1

On top of all of that, I had to take a break. A long  one. During about a week off from school—offered by my mother in respects to what was going on in our household—I got the oh-so pleasant experience of sitting down and having a long ass talk with Allison. 

To say I wanted to swallow lead was an understatement. 

She had ended up texting me the night of Marko and I’s falling out. I slid up on my screen and was greeted with several walls of texts from Allison. In summary, she’d texted me nonstop but I ultimately shut my phone all the way off and just..sat in my room for hours after talking to my mother.

This is what she wrote:

Allison: Azura Reiss Makoto, I promise that what I’m about to say next is the last thing you want to hear right now. And for that I’m sorry. But I have so much to say and if I see your face again, it won’t be anger or hatred, but genuine fear. 

Allison: Do you understand how insane it is that I, your ex girlfriend, the one who slept next to you, the one who saw you every single day and would’ve killed just to be close to you am in sincere dread at the thought of seeing you? Going to your house in the first place was already daunting enough. Seeing you again was enough. Having to talk to you as if we were strangers was enough.

Allison: After spending days and weeks mindlessly scrolling through your photos, videos, messages, looking at the gifts you showered me with…I thought I could hate you enough to see you again and not have hear your voice in my head—an instant and constant playback of your words that day—and turn into a victim of my own emotions. I thought that if I hated you enough then I could find less significance in you, as a person, then I could force my mind to forget and get the fuck over what you said. 

Allison: But it wasn’t that simple. Nothing with you ever is. 

Allison: Over and over and over again, I can vividly remember every single drop of venom that you spoke to me that day. I can remember the instant I realized you weren’t mine..the second I knew you never had been. If someone were to give a playback of my entire life, I’d be able to know the exact millisecond when you made me question everything we ever were. Everything that I was to you.

Allison: The fact is, you knew everything to say to break me down. You knew exactly what to say, how to look at me, to make me feel like I was less than human in your eyes. You knew how to check off every box in your head of shattering my heart and whatever bit of confidence you’d built off of yourself. 

Allison: You’re a terrible person, Azura. You looked me in my eyes, you got so close that I could’ve sworn I couldn’t breathe properly the entire time you were speaking to me. You saw the tears in mine and you fucking smiled. 

Allison: Now, I want to know what it’s like. 

Allison: I want to know how it feels to look down on someone the way you did to me and smile, knowing full well that I was the leading cause of it. You have done absolutely nothing but lie to me, cheat on me, manipulate me, and make my life so utterly confusing. I’m in a time period of my entire life where I need that more than anything. To feel sure of what I’m doing with my life. Of who I am. 

Allison: You took that away from me. 

Allison: Now, the only and very last chance I am giving to you is to meet me at my place by Friday. That’s 3 days. Think about what you want to say, think about what you want to do, think about if you’re going to even show up. Three days to decide whether or not I tell everyone in your life that not only are you a sorry excuse of a man but every last one of those rumors are true. I’ll provide the proof too. 

Allison: So take this as a warning and an invitation. Clear the entire day.

…

With each and every word I read, my disbelief and an entire world of shuddering loathing came up to the surface. If I didn’t fuck up her life before, then I sure as hell was running through every last conceivable way to do it now.

This wasn’t even something I told my mother about.

All I told her was that Allison and I broke up, not so much the reasoning behind it. Given all that was discussed that night, it was such a little grain of rice in a bowl. Now, even on my days off she wanted to find some way to ruin my mood and force me to do something.

The very last thing I wanted was to do was something. With each and every inconvenience and nuisance that was flooding my life right now, she wanted to add onto that list? 

Fucking bitch.

For the next three days, I played out everything I could say, what I could say or do that would make her change her mind about this endlessly reckless and rash decision. Reading over her messages to try and find a common theme among it all—besides me, of course—just trying to piece together what it was she wanted from me.

If I was in her place—which, God knows I’d never—I would’ve blocked and replaced the things I’d given her. I would’ve tried to completely and surgically remove myself from the hurt and the person to avoid any further conflict. But here she was, once again, incessantly barking up the wrong tree.

And for the longest time, I’ve wanted to shut her up once and for all. So if that meant sitting down for hours, speaking about tedious memories and words of betterment and self-wallowing to prevent her from astronomically tearing my life apart even more; so be it.

At this point, I was just ready to put this dog down.

So, once I’d gathered up a general grasp on what she was saying—among the jumbled and unnecessary word count—Friday came.

Her parents were out of the house for the weekend so she said it was a perfect time as any, seeing as I wasn’t currently in attendance and she on the other hand opted out.

This gave a clear ground to stand on for our final encounter. 

Checking the time on my phone, it was 7:37 in the morning. She’d wanted to get it all started before 8 o’clock just because she had such a vast amount of subjects to deliberate over. When she’d told me about the time, I was beyond annoyed at the fact our mutually unpleasant rendezvous had to be so early. But, I digressed and now I was standing in front of her door, mentally preparing myself for whatever awaited me behind it.

My future was in her hands.

Just as I was about to knock, the door opened inwards on itself. She stood in her underwear and a shirt that dipped just below her shoulder, showing off her pretty collarbones. Yet, despite her laid back attire, the expression she wore was nothing short of dead.

Not even as in corpse-like or sickly, but she genuinely just looked exhausted. It all tied together with the dark circles under her eyes that almost matched mine in color and depth. We simply shared a look and I stepped inside, hearing the door shut and lock behind me, I felt like the death toll had rung.

The house was dark—such a stark contrast to the lively, homey, comforting atmosphere it usually held. Alit with laughter from her parents, the low hum of house fans, TVs forgotten in rooms and the like. Not how it was now..dead silent and jarring.

She sat down at the counter of her kitchen, lined up with chairs that looked over the top where she took her seat. There, were two glasses and one bottle of whiskey. Oh, she really wanted to get into everything.

Uncorking the bottle, she poured both of the glasses up before setting it down once more and finally gesturing for me to follow suit. “Shoes off.” Was the only thing she had said the entire time and I went ahead to slip my sneakers off and set them neatly among the array that was along the wall.

I took my seat next to her and raised up my glass, clinking it against hers before we both downed it. After a low fit of dry coughs at the burn, we turned to face each other.

The depths of her eyes were impossible to read for once. When we had been together, seeing each other every single day, it was easy to analyze and pinpoint how she was feeling, whether she was lying about how she was and a plethora more just from a look into those light emeralds. But staring at her now, there was no way to gauge what she was thinking about.

“You know, Azu,” She, at long last started off after a painfully lengthy silence. “I thought I’d marry you.”

Had she said that a few months ago, I would’ve entertained the idea with a voice dripping with false endearment and fed into the delusion of me ever being marriage material. Instead, I gave an entirely different response.

Rolling my head to the side, I looked at her with an expression of sympathy—pity more like—at the vulnerable confession. “I haven’t the slightest idea why.” Deadpan and detached as always, I purred out the answer.

“Maybe because I was so deeply in love with you I had the ignorant idea that you’d feel the same..” She had replied, staring at her glass longingly as she poured herself another drink. “You were the only person I truly confided in. The only one who I felt wouldn’t turn tail and run just because of a few home life issues,” This time, she took small sips instead of swallowing it all down at once. “You know all about home life issues.”

The last comment left a bitter taste in my mouth. What exactly did she know about my home life? 

Sure, I’d complained about my father more times than I could count, maybe went into a little too much detail on some more violently depraved concepts about him, and spoken a time or two about running away. But every household has their own shit.

Straightening up my shoulders, I lightly shifted in my seat, sighing a lot more heavily than I initially intended to. “I didn’t leave because of your parents. You and I both know that.” I replied flatly.

“I left because being around you was like suffocating. Like I was drowning every time I was around you. The only thing that managed to keep me sane and not completely homicidal was him.” The words tumbled out of my mouth loosely. I could tell the alcohol was setting in. Though, at this point, I had no real obligation to her anymore.

In my mind, she could drop dead the next day and nothing would ever be amiss in my own life. So this?

This was long overdue.

Giving a laugh, purely out of sheer irritation, I poured myself another drink as well, quickly drinking down a bit more than I intended to. “He..is like nothing you’d ever imagine, Allison,” I said, low and deflated. “You think the child’s game I played with you was a mind fuck? Try him.” 

I shook my head with a soft exhale from my nose. “He is an entirely different ballpark.”

“I’m laying everything out on the table for you so you can really get a feel for the person you were thinking about marrying. And if you decide to post everything, broadcast it to the news, so be it. Because you know what?” Eyeing her down, I licked my teeth with a gentle wry. “I’m feeling more human than I ever have in my entire life. And it is fucking awful.”

And so, began the day that we actually got to know each other. 

Funny to think neither of us ever knew the person who they’d claimed as their own beyond such a surface level..

We had moved from the counter and onto her living room couch where we continued the path of alcoholism and spilling our guts along the way. It was clear what this was—calm before the storm. So as we progressed, there were no more filters. And..it was evident.

“I might as well start from the beginning,” A low sigh left my lips as I actually allowed myself to think back. Rather than immediately pushing the memory out of my head entirely, I let it wander through the hazy and the vivid, memories that had led me to where I was now. “My father, you know all about him.”

Swirling around the contents of my glass, I watched the hickory colored liquid stick to the walls of it as it made small rotations. “One of the most successful businessmen to ever come out of this shitty place, renowned all over the country for investments, various real estate projects and the like. I’ve told you this story before.” 

“But oh..it’s so much fucking worse.” I laughed dryly, finally extinguishing the last mouthful of alcohol in my mouth as I sunk down into the couch.

Allison had been almost silent, save for small affirmations and clarifications on little details. “Turns out..a little over a year or so ago, he started having an affair,” I looked down at the glass in my hand, setting it down on the table as I leaned my head into the back of the couch. “I didn’t find out until what..a few months ago? Heaven only knows the amount of shit he’s done in that time but this one took the cake.”

“The woman? His secretary..and Marko’s mother.” 

I could see her eyes widen and the subtle twitch of her eyebrow when I spoke. Clearing her throat, she looked up at me from the other side of the velvet furniture. “His mom?” She asked, clearly just trying to register it for herself by stating it out loud. “No wonder you two are so..yeah. I’d hate you too—for different reasons than I do now, obviously.”

Nodding along, I wasn’t privy to missing the shade she’d thrown but I brushed it off with a glare that fell short. “Yeah well, that’s where most of my problems really started. Or..my problem with Marko.”

“You think what the two of you have is an issue?”

Turning my head slightly, I kissed the backs of my teeth softly. “One of my biggest, actually.” I responded flatly. “But as I was saying, that’s what essentially drove him to start up the rumors in the first place. Sure, knowing your mom is screwing one of your classmate’s dad—who’s also her superior—is already reasonable enough,” I trailed off.

“Though, when you add in unresolved grief of a father figure, now trying to be replaced by half a man than he, that’s where the real malice and hatred starts to sink in.” Somberness drenched my every word as I moved to rest the small of my back against the arm of the couch. “Especially when your life gets tangled up with someone else’s in ways you didn’t think possible..”

The last part made it hard to distinguish whether I was speaking on Marko’s behalf or more so mine. Speaking about it so openly now really gave a crystalline hindsight view on what we were and how our story got to the place it was. Though, the question of where the fault lied was still unanswered.

“Oh..so, his father died and essentially, since yours stepped into his life a little too quickly after that he redirected all of that into..you?” There was a surprisingly soft and almost empathetic tone to her voice.

Hearing the gentle coo somehow stung worse than when she was angered with me. I’d rather her be angry with me..but the day was still long. “In his mind..I suppose it was a much more manageable feat to exact his revenge on me, rather than completely risking his mother’s happiness, financial stability and overall well-being which came with actually confronting my father.”

“And so, that’s why the rumors started. That was where all of this fucking bullshit started,” With a small flick of my gaze up to hers, I finished off, “That’s also where you and I started. Officially, anyway.”

I could visibly see the apprehension rising in her again as she pulled her arms in on herself. “Was it..were we a correlation or a causation of that?” She breathed out, watching my mouth with heavy anticipation.

Taking my time, I straightened out my expression. “A direct causation.” 

“I told you I’d liked you for a while when I asked you out. It wasn’t hard to tell you’d fall right into place as an asset to getting my life back on track,” Chuckling softly, I let out a sigh of deserted amusement. “Well, look where that ended up, right?”

“So..it was never about me, was it?” A silent, nearly unheard sound came from her voice—cracks in it. “You started out the relationship with lies, promises of the future all in-between it and now, now you decide to come forward with the truth? Was me, catching feelings for you, also a part of this grand scheme you had planned out?” 

Her interjection did make me pause for a moment. It was never intended for her to genuinely start trying to make me love her—for her to love me. 

Ah..what a bitter taste of deja vu.

Running my hand through my hair, I sighed deeply and swallowed down what would’ve been a more snappy reply. “Well, me talking to you now is a form of closure for both you and I. Whether it’s good closure doesn’t matter because it’s the least I want to give to you—the least I feel like giving to you.” And I scratched the underside of my chin, pondering what I’d say regarding the second inquiry. “As for you catching feelings..it was far from a part of the plan. My life would’ve been easier if you had kept your heart in your chest instead of on your sleeve and into my hands.”

“You probably wouldn’t be so depressed over me now if you had just put up a bit more walls,” I leaned forward, pouring out more from the steadily dwindling bottle and greedily consuming the dry burn that was acting as a strong barrier for my inhibitions. “Like I did.”

Liquid confidence was really something. 

“Now, if you’re done making this about you, as always,” Went my voice as I moved back to continue babysitting my glass. “Then I’ll pick up where I left off.”

That’s when the topic switched, I filled her in on what had gone on that night at the park, about my father’s sex tape, and we fell on the subject of the party.

She had more than a bit to say about that. Mostly along the lines of, “Yeah, I remember this part of the story so vividly,” A steely edge was in the mild slurring of her words but nonetheless, I felt her loathing through it. “After you left, everyone started asking me about what your problem was.”

“They didn’t understand a single thing regarding why you’d get so heated, so easily. Obviously, I now know the comments about playing for the other team were more than just a rumor—” 

A reflexive rebuttal followed suit, “They are rumors.” I hissed. “What Marko and I have isn’t.. it’s not like..” The descriptors were falling short as I tried to verbalize what exactly Marko and I were. We couldn’t even decide ourselves so trying to get a third party to faintly grasp the concept was a whole different matter.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Azura,” She chided, clearly not wanting to even graze over Marko and I’s dynamic in excruciating detail yet. “Where did you go that night? All I remember was seeing you storm off to the mini bar, I looked away and..you were gone.”

Her recollection of how that night went from another perspective seemed unreal. It would’ve been heavenly if I had just gone home after that..it would’ve been perfectly simplistic to just leave the party out of anger and frustration, turn in and leave it all behind.

But we all know how that story really went.

For a second, my mouth simply hung open, leaving my lips just a few centimeters away from each other. “After..after I left you and your friends,” I spoke, shifting my legs to sit crisscrossed on the couch, letting my elbow dip into the arm of it. “I went upstairs. My intention was to just cool off for a bit and come back after—or just wait until it ended whilst I drank away the nagging feelings of anger.”

“I wish it could’ve gone that way..” Turning my head down, I inhaled slowly, deeply before drawing out a reflective breath. “I holed up in the guest bathroom that was upstairs and among my intoxication, I ultimately failed to remember that doors had locks.”

Regret clung to each and every word I spoke, being forced to picture the events that played out in that bathroom—coated in the scent of alcohol, hormones, hate and..cigarettes. “A while after I went in, Marko was there too..” I trailed off. The way Allison was on the edge of her seat for the progression was evident in how she never once took her eyes off of me. “We started fighting..I can’t even remember what about..then I got more and more worked up,”

“You don’t get worked up—even when someone wants you to give some sort of reaction or drastic response, you remain indifferent.” Allison interjected, a shot being fired off under her words. 

Looking up, I furrowed my brows a few centimeters. “I know.” Was all I had to say.

“But at the time..we weren’t on any sort of good terms. I snapped. Cursing, yelling, screaming at him just trying to feel..something. Trying to get my point across..” My lips quivered in a betrayal from my nervous system as I brought my fingers up to them. “To feel like I wasn’t just talking to a brick wall that seemed to be blocking out every piece of light I once had.”

Allison pulled her arms around her legs as she melded her cheek against one of her knees, as if she was trying to brace herself for the rest of the story as well. And maybe I should’ve done the same because talking about all of this now..? In such detail? Felt too real. “He kissed me.” A small widening of eyes and she was back to attentive listening. “Pulled me in..wouldn’t let go.”

“I can still remember how it felt when..when he started biting. The words of mutual hatred that he spewed as his teeth left those sinking marks in my skin..like I..” Absent-mindedly, my own hand rubbed over where the previous marks had sat on my neck. “Like I can still feel it. Can still remember how..utterly weak and helpless I felt in that moment..” 

It took a few moments for her to completely register what I said and that’s when she perked back up—except confusion drenched her features.

“So..so you didn’t initiate it? You didn’t cheat on me?” She asked with devastation. “Why didn’t you tell me? You let me believe that you cheated on me for what?” Each accusation that flew from her lips made that small vein in my head disappear and resurge. 

She’d cut me off too many times.

Finally, I let out a harsh groan, almost a snarl as I looked up at her. “Because it was the only fucking way I could get out of our shitty relationship. If you could even call it that,” I started.

“You sacrificed my love, safety, comfort and devotion for someone who clearly doesn’t give a fuck about you, Azura? He doesn’t care about you like I did and yet you still choose him after all this time?” She snapped back, standing up off the couch as she glared down at me.

I remained seated and just gave her a leveling of eyes. “Because unlike you, he actually makes me feel alive.” A low hiss came out. “I let you believe that I cheated on you because I might as well have. ‘Cause you know what? I didn’t make the first move but if you knew how his tongue worked wonders around mine, it’d make your head spin—”

Crisp. Crisp was the sound of her hand connecting with the side of my face. I didn’t move given that she definitely hit softer than Marko. Instead, I shook my head with a dry laugh. 

“This is what I’m fucking talking about.” Finally, I stood up to full height as I looked down at her now-tearful face. 

The way her emotions rolled off of her, the way her eyes just screamed her malice out for me, the way her breathing shuddered—was just too perfect. In another second, I rolled my neck and had her back down on the couch, keeping a tight grip on her cheeks as my breath fanned over her face. She struggled, her legs making traction against the couch as her nails reddened my arm.

“This, us? This is the kind of shit that reminds me of every single thing I despise about you.” My fingers moved down from her cheeks and I had to stop myself from wrapping them around her throat. Instead, I moved my arms to either side of her head. “You think the entire fucking universe revolves your mundane, picture perfect lifestyle. You think everything that doesn’t make sense in your empty head, doesn’t make sense at all.”

She was huffing breaths in, out and I could see the hellfire burning behind those gorgeous, light emerald eyes. “You wanted to talk? We’re talking. So are you going to shut your fucking mouth and listen or do I have to put a damn muzzle on you, perra?”

A staring match ensued—my own, fed up and just begging, praying for her to choose the wrong answer and hers with contemplation and contempt. Our breaths danced together, smelling of equal alcohol consumption.

If she hadn’t been regretting just posting everything without the deliberation, she sure as hell was now. 

“I’ll listen,” Resentment dripped off her words as she spat out her reluctant agreement. “Just get the fuck off of me.”

Obliging, I pushed off of her and stalked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out that clear, decorated bottle of water that couldn’t freeze. “You’re gonna want to be more than tipsy to get through this next part, so where do you keep your shot glasses?” I called out over my shoulder before kicking the small door closed.

Within the next few minutes, we relocated once more. 

After the heated exchange, we decided that both of us needed to take five. I ended up taking a few shots with her, then just going to take a step outside. Scrolling through my phone, I stared at the screen blankly, watching my notifications.

Most of them insignificant but one from my mother with the simple words of, “I’m doing it tonight. Please be back home by 9.” I knew all-too well what she meant. 

She’d been talking about planning things out for every way our confrontation with my father would go; where we would stay if he decided that we were the ones who needed to leave, how exactly she’d manage the financial shift and just..what would come next. All she knew was that she needed me there as much as I needed her. That much was for sure.

I gave back a simple, “I'll be there.” And swiped up off of our messages once the read receipt had come through.

(First Love/Late Spring — Mitski)

And the next moment, I found myself scrolling through Marko and I’s messages. Cupping my face in my hand, I just watched them go by. Allison’s words had unfortunately stuck and the dryness of our conversations were a testament to what I didn’t want to be true. Then, getting tired of the reminiscence, I decided to click his contact and just call. 

The last person he wanted to talk to, drunk, thinking about everything we were and calling him. I doubted heavily that he would even answer.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring…

Click!

“What do you want, Azura?” His gruff voice barked out over the line once the call finally connected. 

My mouth felt like the Sahara. What did I want? It was such a loaded question that the mere asking of it made a lifetime’s worth of answers flood my brain and none of them verbalized.

For a split second, my lips simply hung open silently. Then, I found my voice. “I’m sorry.” The foreign phrase left me quicker than I wanted it to. But..it was out there now and it caused an avalanche. “I’m sorry for..everything.” 

He remained silent on the other line.

“I’m not good at this emotional shit but right now..? I’m drunk enough to fall over and I just want you to hear this before I convince myself it isn’t true again..” I trailed off, taking a deep, long breath in, looking over the sea of green, mowed lawns that stretched over the gated community Allison resided within. “I really thought that..I was okay with being a shitty person to you because I thought that you were too.”

Carding my fingers through my hair, I leaned forward, practically dipping my whole face into my lap. “Everything about you..I hated your smile, I hated the way you laughed, I hated your voice, I hated your smell, I..I fucking hated you.” My voice trembled and stupidly enough, my eyes began to leak.

“Because..hate is such an easier feeling to deal with than love..” Choking up on silent cries, I noticed how dead silent he was. Whether I was fucking things up for us even more or mending the broken pieces was unclear.

Though..no matter what is was..I suppose none of it meant anything now, huh? “I’m not afraid of anything..I wasn’t afraid of anything. Death didn’t scare me because I know my time on Earth is fleeting and insignificant—that when I go, I’ll be a drop of poison that diluted. People leaving didn’t scare me because I knew everyone eventually would.”

“But you..?” I hunched over, almost whispering my next words. “I’m terrified of you..” Breathing out the sentence, I took in a shaky amount of oxygen. “I liked the back and forth we had..never quite sweet, not entirely bitter and never ever smothering.”

Wiping my eyes, the tears still wouldn’t stop their steady trickling down my cheeks and it hurt. The salt that clung to my skin burned. “I liked the fact I didn’t have to fully choose whether or not I was in love..how you gave me reasons to hate you even after you poured your heart out to me. It felt good. It made me feel human.”

“Now..standing on the edge of nothing and looking down at a plummet to my next chapter..I can’t see it without you,” I laughed weakly, rubbing my palm over my face. “I can survive without you..but I can’t live without you..and that..that has been the scariest part of all of this.”

I finally looked up, seeing how the sun was already beaming golden over the neighborhoods..another mockery.

…

“Marko I l—”

“Don’t.” He cut me off just a hair before the last few words could fall out. “You’re drunk, I’m sober. If you want to tell me..do it in person. When you’re not piss drunk and I know you’re not just missing me. I’ll hear you out then. For now..just don’t call me again.” 

And before I could give my interjection, the dial tone clicked. I could’ve sworn I heard him..crying.

I let the phone fall down into my lap as I stomped my feet a bit with a loud, throaty groan. Why did it have to be so hard?

With Allison, with any other girl I’ve dated, it’s been as simple as blinking. Blink, they’re here. Blink, they’re gone. That’s how it was. Girls came and went—some of them ending off better than others, clearly—and it wasn’t complicated. My heart was never on the line so I wasn’t so reluctant to leave or even cut contact with them.

Now that Marko was in the mix it felt like the complete opposite.

I wondered if..love waited too long to find me. What if I had met Marko back in middle school instead of Jessica Reese? What if I’d taken him to the school carnival instead of Deidra Smith? What if I had talked to him at freshman year homecoming instead of Allison? Would he have changed my warped perspective on love? 

Could he have taught me..how to love?

The door hinges let out a shriek of protest when it was pulled open. Allison looked composed once more while I wiped my eyes and felt hers staring into the back of my head. Turning my head to the side a bit, I gave a weak, “I need a minute.” And she dismissed herself. For the next 30 minutes..all I did was watch the cars pass by.

When I did wind up back inside, Allison was holed up in her room, idly tapping away at her phone screen. The redness of my eyes had gone down and I sat myself on the opposite end of the bed, turning to lay back fully.

“We didn’t talk for a while..after the party,” I said quietly, lacing my fingers together over my abdomen. “Honestly, I only saw him again as soon as 

you and I  broke up.”

Her silence spoke volumes but she clicked her phone off and laid down next to me. Our eyes were both low..tired, exhausted. The mirroring of the turmoil we’d been dealt out echoing in the depths of our corneas.

“He showed up for dinner with his mother. When I walked into the house it was like..like the spotlight had been shown directly down on me. It was hard, y’know? Knowing that my mother was sitting just a foot across from two people who had lied to her through their teeth..knowing I could’ve said something then but..didn’t.” My voice had dropped to one that was casual and almost dazed.

Swimming through the pool of memories, of how my life effectively got turned upside down was ironic. And to take that dive with the girl I’d scarred was even more ironic. “Long story short, we ended up in my room. And..like always, we argued—though it was wildly more one-sided, my part.” Shifting my legs slightly, I glanced up at the ceiling.

“That’s when..he confessed—sort of.” My hands talked with me as I gave a small shrug of my shoulders. “It was confusing, just like everything else about us. Saying things like he just wanted to ruin my life..that he wanted me to be so mentally broken that I’d be forced to stay with him. As if he wanted us to rot together in a hell we created all on our own..”

Allison reached out to stroke a strand of hair behind my ear. “And did that sound like a bad idea to you..?” She asked gently, letting her fingers linger longer than they needed to.

Turning on my side to face her, I softly shook my head. “It should’ve. But it sounded so..perfect to me,” I admitted, curling my legs further into the center of the queen-sized mattress. “In fact..I felt like he knew what I’d been craving my whole life and never had the proper words to speak with.”

“Then..after that..?” The follow-up came and her hand fell from my face. 

Looking into her eyes, I lowered mine just as quickly. “I had sex with him after that..almost got caught by mother..I was scared shitless.”

“But the climax was..otherworldly. In that moment, I sort of knew that whatever came next..I was hooked on him. Maybe I knew that before—no, I did know that before..it just sort of..solidified things.” I breathed, adjusting my position to rest my head on my elbow. “After the comedown, we stepped outside..smoked together for a bit, watched the waters..it was serene.”

Every day, I’d regret the next part of this story.

“That’s when I broke that calm and said what I had to..what was necessary. I told him that we could never be together,” Taking a beat, I swallowed dryly. “Yeah..told him that..if he was a girl then maybe we could’ve been. Told him that..we were just victims of our environments..”

Before I could even stop it, my tears were rolling down from the corners of my eyes, dripping onto the pillow. Instead of staring in disgust, judgment or even detest, Allison pulled me in. She..hugged me.

“I said he was a liability to me. In that moment I..I ruined whatever could’ve been between us,” I softly choked out, feeling her legs intertwine with mine as she rested her chin on top of my head. “I can still hear him crying..can still see the tears in his eyes that I caused that day. And for once..? It didn’t feel like the right thing. As if..everyone else who I’d made suffer up till then, every tear shed over me prior to..meant nothing. But when he did, I swore that my heart cracked loud enough for him to hear it.”

For a good while, I cried, only to pull away when I regained the slight control over my waterworks. “Once I’d made all of that clear to him, we took an even longer break before he texted me, saying that he wanted to hook up one last time,”

“But it wasn’t the last time, was it?” She predicted with a somber expression.

“It became a pastime,” I replied wearily. “Unlike the first time, we weren’t..making love anymore. It was just him, fucking me and nothing more. For a while, I was fine with that. Until my heart decided to play a part.”

Breathing out slowly, I found the ending of our day together drawing closer. It was already 5 o’clock by the time I’d detailed Marko and I’s plethora of meet-ups, petty arguments and the like. So now, we moved on to the current day.

“Well, after you left that day, to come get your stuff, he and I had..a falling out. A really bad one.” Sitting up now, I was feeling drained from the alcohol and the heat of the room. I couldn’t even tell you how long it’d been since we even started this god awful drive down memory lane. “I said..some really bad shit.”

Craning her neck, she gave me a puzzled look. “As in..?”

Hissing through my teeth, I gave a pained scrunch of my face. “Him not getting over his dead father..?” Her eyes almost bugged out as she physically pulled back. “God, I know, I fucking know. I was pissed off, I was tired and I just needed someone to take it all out on. But it wound up coming out in the worst possible way with the last person who I should’ve said it to.” I didn’t need any more guilt on my shoulders than the some I was already hauling around.

“That was his breaking point though. Choked me out right on my floor until the lights almost went dark. Only then did he let go. I swear, every single place he ever touched me, I can still feel as if he was here doing it all over again.” 

Allison shook her head. “You do know that what you’re describing, every single thing you’ve shared with me here today is the perfect outline of abuse, right?” She asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. “As someone who dated you, I should know. But at least..you were more humane.”

I couldn’t even look her in the eyes as she spoke. 

“You know that though. You know everything.” She continued. “But you continue to stay. Why is that?”

For once, for once in my whole life, I couldn’t even explain that. 

She was right. Marko and I had gone from being at each other’s throats to a mutually beneficial relationship turned more and more complicated, more and more twisted with each terrible turn. I couldn’t even say that I was a victim of him when I had fucked with his head just as much as he had mine.

Though, at the end of every single day, both of us knew we wouldn’t walk away. 

Call it stubborn pride, call it codependency, call it obsession, addiction—anything but what it actually was..

Our own sordid version of love. Nurtured by our hatred for one another and ultimately so all-consuming that it’d grown destructive for anyone who got caught in crossfire.

“You want the truth?” I managed to say. She nodded, her eyes searching mine for any sort of indication of what I was going to say next. “I can’t..fathom loving someone without wanting to die when I’m with them.”

“To know love with no pain, no suffering..feels almost as empty as being completely without it,” Bringing my hands up to my shoulders, I smiled down at myself. “I’m a wreck, Allison. And I need someone who can both fix that and break me down even further..”

Allison’s hand came to the side of my face, turning it toward hers. Then..she leaned forward, kissing my lips oh-so softly. Like she wanted to convey all of her remorse, her sympathy, her pain, her relatability..directly into me. 

When we broke apart, I looked at her softly. For once..there was a genuine endearment for her festering in my irises. “And that’s why..we were never meant for each other.” Instead of seeming dejected by the revelation, she smiled gently. “You are a mess, Azura Makoto. A beautiful mess that’s been living inside his own head for as long as you can remember.”

“Now..well, now it’s time to step out of the mind prison that you’ve conjured up to live. It’s time to come back down to reality, to realize that..you’re not untouchable. That no matter how much you convince yourself not to care, not to indulge, not to feel..you’re still human. You always have been.” 

My eyes welled up and suddenly..it was clear. Everything was clear. I felt..so seen.

“I..I’ll always love you. No matter how much you don’t reciprocate, no matter how lovesick that makes me..you’re still the only one that I’d want to see succeed,” Her fingers interlocked with mine, the pale, smooth and manicured contrasting with the slightly rugged and slender. “And if I have to root for you from afar as you burn your life down to the ground..then I’ll do that.”

I brought the back of her hand up to my lips, kissing it and letting them linger before bringing our hands back down onto my lap. “In another life, Allison..I would have married you.” 

The look on her face as I uttered those words was one that sent me immediately back into our time together. She would never not have the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever known..even as the tears started to roll down her face.

Once almost 2 more hours had passed since then, it was about time for me to head home to my mother..my father..and the storm that awaited there. Allison and I discussed a bit more about our relationship in particular, providing her the closure that she’d sought out in the first place—although bittersweet. Then, as I slipped my shoes on at the door and stood at the front of it, she called out to me. A yell of  “Azu!” coming from the back of the house as she ran up.

Finally standing face to face again, I put a hand on my hip, waiting for her to catch her breath. 

“I’m..hah..I’m not posting anything. I’m not exposing you, I’m not getting any sort of ‘revenge’ on you,” She panted shortly before straightening out. “No, it’s not out of pity or sympathy but for me. This one thing, I’m doing for myself. Because I realized that..you would have posted it. You would’ve dragged my name to the dirt if I had been in the same position and..I want to be better than you.”

She gave a smug smile and after staring at her for a minute, I couldn’t help but laugh. I laughed heartily and pulled her in for one last kiss that was mingled between her giggles as we smiled against each other’s lips. Pulling back and catching my own breath, I nodded, a silent ‘thank you’ in the gesture.

“Everybody is better than me. But you..you’re one of the best, Allison Yasan.” I said to her, no hint of animosity hiding behind any word. 

“I love you,” She said with folded hands in front of her, slightly swaying side to side as she waved me off subtly. “Make the right choice, Azu. Fix what you broke.” I gave a firm nod, looking back at her and with a ceremonious close of the door, I was gone.

It was the first time in a long time..that I felt content. 

Thank you, Allison. For being my perfect victim.

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[lvrboy-inc]

꒰: Précis | Middle-aged, existential, train wreck office worker diving head first into the club scene. One night of debauchery and a “You only live once” attitude turns out more problems than ever before. Torn between two worlds and wondering if he should try the pill one..more..time…

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This file contains strong language and suggestive content.

꒰: Word Count ; 4.2k

★ File Archive

Case File 002

“And so, how exactly was I supposed to be aware of the company that we were going to be entertaining for today?” I, less than unintentionally barked into the phone that I’d convinced Wynn to let me borrow for a bit. Simply so my boss didn’t think I flaked on my shift. “Seriously, this is something you can put into an email three weeks before it happens. Not the day of.”

Always hounding me for the littlest of discrepancies—meet Mr. Rysal. Head of our IT department with an ego that didn’t quite match how tight his pants fit and my unfortunate superior.

Still shifting my toothbrush around in my mouth after I’d gotten out of my quick hell-shower, I was already listening to the old hothead in my ear over the visitors or..new additions to our office. “Not bothering to send an email hasn’t ever phazed the Hiro I know.” But you don’t know me, I responded, somewhere in my head. 

“I certainly didn’t expect this sort of…poor time management from you, of all, on such an important date.”

Gritting my teeth down on the plastic hanging from my mouth, I took my brush out, taking a moment to spit and rinse off with a few scoops of water. “Sir, forgive my place, but could you mind yours?” I said in a calm sigh, patting my mouth dry with my hand towel. “I’m getting there when I do. I’ve never disappointed before now, I don’t plan to, either. Regardless of the nature of my arrival or time interval.”

Rinsing off my brush and swishing around my mouthwash, I fixed my gelled down hair with a precision that subconsciously poked the tip of my tongue out between my lips.

“…Whatever, Hiro. You know the expectations on you. The spotlight that you’re under and why—how it got there. Don’t slip up and start dimming it. What would dear old dad think?” That singular last sentence was what made me take the phone down from my ear and listen to the line go dead.

Stepping out of the bathroom and switching the light off, I tmp’d across our apartment floor, setting Wynn’s phone face down on the coffee table next to his breathily snoring body, before adjusting my tie. I swiped my lunch from the counter, moving to the door in order to glide my suit jacket over my button-down’s sleeves.

Giving one more glance in the mirror, I groaned just a tad, leaning into the reflection and pulling a bit at the darkened skin under my corneas. Relaxing my lid, I retreated. I reached down beside the door to lift the satchel that lay on the floor, lunch in tow.

“Another day, another shred of my humanity.” breathed upon my finally exiting the apartment with a called, “Have a good day, Wynn.” on my way out. 

From there, I secured my keys in the door and turned them—listening to when the lock slid into place, I was immediately down the hall. I had so much time to make up. So much so that I didn’t even bother with the elevator, surprising Kira who was much more used to seeing me calmly stride out of the elevator doors at a much earlier hour. Now watching me barrel out of the side stairs.

“Gone so soon?” her airy giggle called out across the lobby, seeing my frazzled state of scrambling for the doors. 

In spite of my franticism, I took a moment to shoot her a look. “Not gone soon enough, in fact—I’m late for work.” puffed out as I nudged the glass open and made my way into my own car from our complex’s parking lot.

Kira, on the other hand was left just a bit slack-jawed at the fact that “late” and “work” came out of my mouth in the order that they did. I’ve…never been late to work. So she kept any other comments to herself and I caught a glimpse of her hand waving me off.

I put a bit more kick to my steps as I hustled into the flat, concrete expanse where my Dodge Charger, 1986, sat in all of its bordering vintage glory. Easily making it chirp with a double click of the key, I pulled open my driver’s, carelessly letting my belongings fall into the passenger with a thud or two.

“Fuckin’ hell..” lamented as I closed the door in behind me, adjusting my hair in the rear view before turning the keys into the ignition with an easy purr to life. As I let the vehicle warm up a tad, my hands went to my pocket, sliding my work ID around my neck, a subtle click signaling the fastening.

Once more, my eyes drifted up to the rear view, hands easily sliding into place on the wheel as I made my steady backing out of ½ parking spaces that were under my name. 

Driving wasn’t much of a problem for me ever since I started. Helped me clear my head typically—today differed. When I finally got out onto open road, I perched my elbow on the frame of my window spreading out my thumb and index to hold my head at a slight angle. 

Maneuvering through the cars, people starting their days, pedestrians, school attendees and the like all scattered about amongst the busy city. All individual lives unlike the next in such drastic ways—all thankfully unknowing of June Eigress’s existence. Must be nice.

I wasn’t sore anywhere, at least. So, if in the worst case scenario we magically wound up fooling around again under that blanketing blur of an evening, I have the solace of knowing I wasn’t taken advantage of. Though, that was never really what I expected from June.

As much as I loathed him with every breathing, moving and scientifically inanimate atom in my veins…he had morals. Set and one could argue conservatively strict morals, at that.

Still. That didn’t excuse the dilemma that rested under my slacks. Straining a bit to remember, I turned my signal on, shifting lanes so that I could get onto the right exit.

I’d only gone to the station, then…from Yitzer square to the shopping district and..

Fuck. 

Had he been at the club?

My fingers tightened up on my wheel before I got a honk that made me more aware of my surroundings for a moment. I’d been tailgating the Chevy in front of me and the owner wasn’t too fond. So, I eased up on my gas, passing her anyhow to stay on the highway as she weaned off to the side.

The one night he decides to show up again.. Looking back..he knew when we met in the hall. Knew that I hadn’t found out and knew that he had the vantage of knowing. Sneaky bastard. Sat there and had the balls to argue with me knowing full well that he’d done some underhanded shit right under my nose.

Oh, I’d kill him.

…After I resolve my work dilemma. 

About 15 minutes after pulling off on my exit, I eased down past the restaurants, ma & pa shops and other miscellaneous stores on the way to my office building. Checking into the parking garage was a speedy process that helped me cut down the ratio of time to amount of ground I still had left to cover.

Secure in my space, I shifted into park and slid my hands to rest in the crevice of the steering wheel. My head sunk back into my leather, having a small stare down in the rear view. “You’re at work, Hiro—act like it.” I recited to myself, swallowing briefly before lifting my things out of the passenger.

Tugging open the door, I stepped out, shutting the door briskly as I chirped it to a lock. Feet carrying me over to the elevator shaft where I stepped readily inside after a wait for it to come my way. Once I was on there, I pushed my glasses up on my face some more, doing one more unnecessary reposition of my tie as I worked at my cuffs. 

Satchel snug at my hip and lunch in tow, I listened to that oh-telling and all-too enthusiastic chime when I hit my department’s floor. 

Tmp-ing across the polished marble of the spacious lobby, I stepped up to the receptionist’s desk, flashing my identification before she simply nodded then shook her head. 

She also seemed to know I was in hot water. Did the rest of the building?

Trying not to dwell on the first bad sign, I scanned into the actual office, immediately being greeted by what many called my “work-husband.” Though, we were just chummy because he’d blacked out on our first night of meeting each other. Christmas party, lots of laughs, lots of comforting words said over nausea—long story. We were good friends, though.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the dead man walking.” he barked out in a laugh. Spinning his chair and standing up from his own space, he strode over to me as I continued to make my way to the conference room. 

Putting out a groan, I sighed deeply. “Spare me, Frazier. Where’s this ‘company’ that we’re supposedly housing? I don’t see any associates around.” I observed.

“They’re allll in conference room 5,” leaning in closer to drape over my shoulders a bit, he said cheekily, “..waiting for you.”

Brushing him off a tad, I shot him the faintest of glares. He pushed my specs up on my bridge and gave me a two firm pats on the shoulder, along with a light shove toward the closed door of the meeting room. “You make it sound so ominous. It can’t be nothing more than we’ve already and will continue to deal with.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

Eyes darting to the side and back on him, “How?”

Simply shrugging, he tugged back the sleeve of his identical, pressed button-down, tapping an index on the face of his timepiece. “Clock’s tickin’, Mr. Golden boy. Go in there and find out.”

Begrudgingly, I threw my hand on the knob. “You know how much I hate when you call me that.” though, I didn’t receive any answer, given how he was already rounding the corner to make it back to his desk. Leaving me to finally push the door open.

Inside was our city-viewing boardroom, a perfect bird’s eye over..everything. We were one of the top-earning businesses in the city and the accommodations, architecture-wise, were staggering.

Instead of typical drywall, we had fully insulated. The corners were rounded forward with white, smooth-stone pillars that stretched up to hold up the ceiling. Decorated at the bases of each were floral arrangements in ceramic pots.

Then, directly in the center of the high-roofed enclosure, sat the infamous long table. A luxury that some people who’ve dedicated years to this company still have yet to lay their eyes on. Only by whisper did they even know it existed.

Though, it was a frequent part of my everyday routine, seeing as I was the son of the founder. Talk about generational wealth.

You’d think that meant I held a few more cards in my own autonomy, as per my arrival times, but no. Turns out, my father is a bit…mistrusting in my judgement of character. As a result, I’ve been sacked until my current superior, who was sitting forced-smiled at the head of the table, retires. And there, my empty seat on the side where I was meant to be…two whole hours ago.

There was big company, though. Several of our investors, as well as the nation’s CISO, as in, Chief Information Security Officer.. For the entire country. Oh, I was so deeply fucked. The one face that did happen to make me pause even more was..fuck.

“Miss Reid.” I said in a breath of disbelief, masked under a clearing of my throat. 

She seemed to be just as frazzled seeing me here. Like she wasn’t the one out of place. Completely different from the woman I’d encountered in the demo of this morning and most certainly not last night—the similar could be said for me. 

My little slip up there was addressing her before I bowed my head toward the CISO. Not as a customary, but a natural compulsion of respect. So, I quickly snapped up to fix that, dipping my body forward at the base a bit. “Sir. It’s an honor.” curt as I raised up once more, I made sure to keep my frames back near the corners of my eyes. 

Heading the other end of the lengthy table next to Miss Reid in all his glory. Surrounded by their own advisors, secretaries, etcetera. The man, Ambrose Hildefer, was almost exactly what you’d picture for the title.

Late 30s with bags under his eyes that could weigh up to match my own. Stoic, cleanly shaven, deep pools of forests being offset by the sharp cut to his cheekbones. Jaw set at a perfect angle, his suit combination—which was definitely personally tailored—that was accessorized by a gold and obsidian Patek Philippe which he’d eyed. To tie it all together (no pun intended), he had a matte black tie, close to the same as his suit. Thin, floral-like swirls of gold decorating it.

Even with my lateness, he made the effort to stand to his feet. He was much taller in person, by a long shot. But he put his hand out to shake mine in a firm grip. “I see you and my apprentice have already gotten acquainted.” he rumbled smoothly, giving a respective look over to Miss Reid. “Allow me to introduce you two properly. Since, I believe you’ll both be in close cohorts from now on.

Mr. Hildefer crooked his finger and I watched her stand up calmly, tugging her plaid pencil skirt down a smidge before rounding the table. The echo of her heels drawing the eyes of every other bystander in the room. I raised my eyes from the floor and up to her face. 

Gone was the vulnerability of a woman in the aftermath, now with the confidence and indifference that I’d displayed the morning of. 

Proud strides across the floor before she was standing beside her superior with hands folded behind her back. Posture stiff as ever, I glanced back over at him, as he said the words that made every aspect about the nature of Miss Reid and I’s original meeting place. “Reid Tyris Hildefer. Eldest daughter and successor to the position of CTO. You two will be working together on various large-team managing projects as well as being on top of comparing data, then relaying all results to either of your highers.”

Mr. Hildefer squeezed Miss Reid’s shoulder lightly before picking up a slight pace to make it to the front of the room. Shit, they’d been waiting that entire time for me just to start this meeting. It wasn’t like they really had the luxury of just up and leaving but my own boss was sure to give me one hell of an earful when they finally did disperse.

“You see, as of late, there has been wiring details that have been swiveling their way into the heart of this potentially global company.” he continued on. I stepped over a bit, pressing the first switch in order to shut the lights off as the Promethean came to a purr, then adjusting the slider to lower the curtains. They slowly rolled down whilst Mr. Hildefer readjusted his stance and brought up the slideshow that’d been preapared.

I stood statue-still for a few seconds, suddenly getting a whisper that made my eyes divert. “Our chairs aren’t supposed to be empty, Mr. Deimos.” there my sur went again. This time, I couldn’t quite correct her. I, instead, brought my index and thumb to the top and bottom of my frames, nodding curtly. 

Following the hint, I listened in on the rest of what Mr. Hildefer was explained as I took my seat next to my own boss. Immediately, Mr. Rysal slid me his own binder, which had a yellow sticky note inside. 

Scrawled right there in what I would consider to be chicken scratch was “3 p.m. My office.” With a period that was all-too aggressive. But I simply tore the note up as opposed to just nodding and crumpling it. Even in the shadow of the room, I could see how his face was reddening.

“Along the lines of..certain employees, different factions of the corporation itself having several different rates of these strange missing numbers…some maybe overzealously multiplied and some divided.” he turned a critical eye in my direction. “And that, my dear Hiro, is where you fit in this equation.”

Straightening up my posture, I folded my hands on the table and tilted my chin up just a tick. “May I ask for elaboration, sir? Is this under the terms of my father’s influence and..resourcefulness and resources, or my own personalized skill sets?”

Dipping his head for a second, with a slight raise of his eyebrows, he gave a subtle smile back to me. “Both, but in different ratios.”

Nodding my head in blooming understanding, I turned an eye over to Miss Reid. “Then, in which ratios and, none offensively, why have your apprentice and I been..particularly selected for this?”

“Keen boy. See,” flicking to the next slide, I saw not only my impressive track record but an analysis on my father’s business. “You, Hiro, are one of if not the sole asset to your father’s small empire. Managing your department well, reporting all your good and back findings to your lovely boss, fixing up masses of charts and data, solving problems around the office…and, most importantly, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

Moving the luminaries pointer up to my record, he smiled fondly. “You graduated Ivy, early, at that. With majors in information systems and cyber security, minoring in computer engineering. That’s no small feat whatsoever but I’d expect nothing less from the son of Valor Deimos.” I tried not to cringe hearing the name, simply giving a soft spread of my lips in acknowledgement to his praise.

“And that is where my own star student comes into frame,” holding an open hand out in Miss Reid’s direction, she tucked a strand of her pinned up high-ponytail behind her ear. “As of current, she’s the best in the field of cybersecurity. Though the position of CTO is taken up by her mentor who I’m sure you’re familiar with—her indulgence in her craft is something unlike any other.”

Mr. Hildefer cast a warm-ish smirk her way before speaking. “That being said..I now give the floor over to the woman, herself.” he said calmly, passing off the mini remote to Miss Reid when she’d strode past him to step up to the board.

Flicking to the next slide, a display of her own record was thrown up to center. Then, clear and concise, she began. “I’ve graduated top of all my classes in college, majoring in forensics, crime analysisand taking internship under a highly regarded coroner for majority of my senior year.” Miss Reid’s eyes hopped over each attendant’s chairs whilst she ran over her portfolio.

“In reference to such, I’ve the Chief of Police accompanying me today as tribute and a recommendation-letter esque party to my welcoming into this well-oiled machine.” Said party raised up her hand, scattered among the some closer to Mr. Hildefer’s chair. “Mrs. Terry Lamore, who I’m sure you’re all pleasantly acquainted.”

That, I was. 

Mrs. Lamore, wife of Mr. Veñez Lamore, a retired Chief of Police due to the nature of his last case. He wound up with an injury that—thankfully—left only one of his legs paralyzed. My father, being the mogul he is, was chummy with him. Also seeing as the two had been best friends in highschool, then going to the same college in their 20s, majoring in their respective career paths with a mutual entrepreneurship class.

His wife was my mother’s right hand, seeing as they bonded over their husbands and also their shared love of tennis. They frequented our holiday parties, mourning periods and family matters. Good people to keep.

Mrs. Lamore stood up at her seat, nodding to the room as she spoke. “I can proudly state that my all is behind this admirable and once in a generation chance to bring out the true potential in this young lady. Not just with the skills and profit that she can provide to this company, but how we’ll be shaping the minds and framework behind something extraordinary.” she said with the brightest beam of a smile, sitting back down quietly.

Chiming in, Miss Reid went. “With respect to the missing cases that have been turning up with clientele that have purchased stocks, loans, and invested their time and energy into this company—this company and its image as the top research, analytics and technology oversight staple,” flipping the screen, we got a grand web of missing case files, people and their contributions to our company.

If I haven’t stated before, the name of our company is Letvix & Co. Letvix starting as our earliest ancestor who my father credits all of the family’s success. 

“From people with minor shareholders in Letvix’s stock market, to big and long-term supporters, they’ve all turned up..gone. Without a trace.” she went on to turn to me, and I could see how much she wished it wasn’t necessary to address me directly but..alas. “Mr. Hiro, you’ve not yet dealt with legal matters before. You’re a numbers guy, as I’ve very recently done my research on. But this is your chance to change that.”

Moving onto the next slide and stepping to the opposing side of the Promethean. “Crime is a just another fancy word for Sodoku. You fit things where they need to go, and to place it correctly—to align all of the sections with the other—you have to pay attention to every possible income, outcome, input and output.” then, with a hint of tride and true respect, despite the latter effect of our dynamic, she finished. “You’re the best candidate to solve these equations with me as your PEMDAS. Find out why these people and their financial support have gone missing, find out how, when.”

I met her gaze head on, standing up as I rounded the table to get in place on the contrary side of the board. Turning to face everyone—a litter of different varying branches under either organization’s umbrella. “To have the privilege of accepting this, that which I see as the true soar into my own fulfillment of my father’s and my company’s legacy—I’ll bring us and the Hildefer name rightfully, to where it belongs—seared into the memory of history.” A slight degree and I was facing Miss Reid with a hand extended.

“Swearing by all that I hold dear, we will be the best candidates and the next faces of this industry,” her hand came to settle in mine. Though, instead of shaking it and calling it that, I pressed a chaste kiss to her hand. Continuing on there.

Peering up at her with low eyes, full of promise and the undercurrent of remorse lingering, “With our combined generational nuance and the prospect of possibly being the missing link between this company and the threat of ever being under bankruptcy—the world will be our oysters.” pressing one more mildly more audible peck to the back of her smooth skin. 

Her father gazed upon me with a scanning eye before stepping back up to the plate, leaving the two of us to diverge to our seats once more.

“Now then. Since we’re all on the same track, then let’s move on to the heart of the cases you two will be unraveling..” I’d raise all kinds of hell if someone were to have snapped a photo of my face when I saw…those damn piercings again. “June Sunhill. Code name, ‘Junebug.’”

I could’ve retched right then and there if it weren’t for our company. “Went off grid some time ago, mother was reported missing and then later,” another flick over the slide and a grim expression weighed his features. A covered, lifeless body on the screen, fished out of water. “Found dead in the canal.”

With focus back onto the two of us, he gave me and Miss Reid a look. “You two will be working hand in hand with the police on this, seeing that Mrs. Sunhill has been a long-term advocate for Letvix & Co. There’s in no way, shape, form or size any possibility that he,” tapping a hand over the ID photo on the screen. “Is not involved. Whether that be direct or indirect, malicious or no, I believe finding him will put a kick start in digging up rotted roots.”

My heart was trying to drown my thoughts in a stampede. June..off the grid..? How? No one had filed him missing…? Of course not..if you go off the grid then you don’t want to be found. 

But….he lived just down the hall from me. Hand darting up, Mr. Hildefer gave me room to speak. “Sir, if I may, how long has June Sunhill been off grid..?”

“Around..five-ish years. The files are a bit fuzzy with trying to find his last paper or digital trail.”

Raising my eyebrow in a slight, I pushed my glasses back up. Maybe I should’ve just called out of work today… “Then…what hopes do we have of finding him now..?”

And beaming that cash-grabbing smile, he said reassuredly, “You, Hiro.”

Case File 002 : Closed

A/N: After such a long wait, I’m happy to bring Care File 002 down to the podium..! Not much June fan service but someone seems to have him on his mind. What a mess, Hiro…

[lvrboy-inc]

“Class of 2013” — Mitski

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains heavy angst, motherly issues, mentions of p/rnography. Tread carefully.

꒰: Word Count ; 2.4k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 9

Mothers are an angelic mix of love and madness.

From the moment you’re born into this world, there’s always a woman who is labeled as your birth giver. The one who’s name goes on the certificate, the one who is always called whenever you’re in the hospital, and the one who gets the final say-so if..or when you die before they do.

But those are just women. A mother is an entirely different ballpark. My mother was an idol’s example of such.

She was everything that a child could ever want or need in a caretaker; kind, funny, selfless to worrying degrees and the size of her heart could’ve been studied by the great forefounders of human anatomy. 

Though, I will never understood why she had kept that up after I was born.

From the very first sign of fractures in my psyche, she never once stopped and tried to frame it as some sort of defect—something to be cured. She took so much pride in everything else about me that the fact I simply couldn’t connect, couldn’t feel nor begin to fathom the complexities of human emotion..meant nothing.

That’s why I had made a point to never once take her for granted. 

“Azura, honey,” I can still remember her voice, silk and smooth as we sat down at the dinner table all those years ago. The day was vivid as I’d gotten my ass handed to me on the playground. “You’re a good boy, I know that.”

Her hand would then move to my chest as I looked up at her with my own puffy-eyed expression. “The love you hold in your heart is so rich and so valuable—not even diamonds could be traded to replace the love you give me,” She brought my head up to meet her gaze..those eyes, they were always so soft. Never once had I ever seen the adoration fade from them..not even up until now. “So please, please, love yourself first.”

“These people, these bullies, friends, enemies, they’re all temporary, my love.” Gently cooing, she’d carefully drag me up from my seat and into her lap. It’s funny to think about how tall I've grown since then. “But you and me? We’re different. We’re special,”

With a final, gentle outtake of air, she pressed her lips to the border between my chestnut brown hair and the skin of my forehead. “You are special, Azura. So long as we bleed the same red, breathe the same air and share the same DNA..” Her voice trailed off and she linked her pinky finger with mine in earnest. “You’ll always be safe. You’ll always be mine, my one and only Azzy.” 

It was times like these where I thought back to that day—back to those words. 

If she had known then, would she do it all again? If she had gotten to see the wreckage I’d made of my life..would she have said otherwise..? 

Standing face-to-face with the door to their bedroom, I clutched my fingers deep into my arm..the other holding tightly onto my phone.

They had gotten home from their date hours ago but I hadn’t made any move from my room since then..since Marko left, matter of fact. All I did was curl up under my sheets and just intake every single thing that was making track circles in my head like Usain.

The clock was aimlessly ticking on and on as it hung from the wall not too far down the hall. Like the seconds were marching endlessly down to a fit of my own unraveling…I hated it.

Placing a few soft knocks onto the door, I leaned my forehead against it. My mother was a light sleeper whilst my father wasn’t, so, within a few minutes of delivering the dismissible impacts to the barrier between us, I heard shuffling. The faint sound of slippers being stuffed and bedsheets wrinkling being an indicator that I’d had my desired effect.

So, taking a step back, I watched as the bedroom door soon pulled inwards, revealing my mother, clad in her night shirt and that recently-slumbering daze that blanketed her eyes. She put her hand over her mouth, yawning for a long while. “Azura..what time is it, hon..?” The inquiry was warranted..it wasn’t even 4 in the morning yet.

I took a deep breath, standing myself up to a more proper stance as I looked slightly down at her. “It’s..late,” I gave back weakly. “But can we..can we talk?” 

Tick. 

“I..need you..” My voice caved into a whimper, finally giving way to the salt that began to drip down my face.

Tock.

Sitting down and having this conversation wasn’t something that I ever foresaw. Not..like this. I thought it would feel good. 

I thought that it would feel orgasmic to finally tell her. To see the look on her face as she realized what a lowlife, scumbag, cheating sleaze that my father was. It was something I’d envisioned so many times since I first got my hands on that video. 

How it’d feel to see him pack his bags. To know he would never be my problem again. I wouldn’t have to pretend like I had a father anymore..not with one who never wanted me in the first place.

Now..?

My tongue felt like it was weighed down by the mass of the solar system and on. The dryness in my throat was unmistakable—from not only the strain and physical pain that it’d endured earlier but..hesitation.

“What’s going on? You haven’t cried in..years. Not in front of me at least..” Seated next to me on the couch, my mother rubbed small, soothing circles on the backs of my hands as she held them so tight. I couldn’t even respond back without letting my voice catch on the blockage of tears that had burrowed their way into my trachea. “Talk to me, Azzy.”

In an instant, I looked up at her. 

All of that warmth, all of that love, every ounce of motherly instinct, protectiveness and sheer nostalgia that she’d always nurtured in my life was sent crashing down onto my mind and..

I broke.

“I can’t do it, mom..” I finally managed to breathe out. Suddenly, the lump in my throat was giving way..I couldn’t care less. “I’m not a good person..I’ve never been a good person.”

The way her eyes flashed and shimmered with unshed ears of her own caused me to divert mine down as I slipped one of my hands away to rub the back against my eyes. “I tried. I thought I was okay with that. I was okay with that..” A moment of settling passed over until I dragged my eyes up to hers. “But I don’t know..I don’t know if anything I knew about myself is true anymore..”

A long, thick swallow followed suit, accompanied by my hand slipping into my pocket and fishing my phone out. I set it down on the table face up. “Though..what I do know is..I can’t keep this to myself anymore—I won’t.”

“Keep what? I’m..not sure I’m following too well..” She gave back honestly, drifting her gaze over to the black screen that was reflecting the gentle glow of the moon that filtered in through the windows.

“My fa—” Stopping almost instantaneously, I shook my head and tried again. “That man upstairs..he’s not yours, mom. He hasn’t been for some time now and I have the evidence to prove it.”

I slowly picked up my phone, sliding open the lock screen with a gentle click. A few swipes and I had my files open. My heartbeat was drumming wildly in my chest. At the time..I couldn’t decide whether her complete silence was a comfort or another anxiety to me..

But..at long last, I pressed play, set the phone propped up on the coffee table..and watched it all unfold.

“Mary..what’s my name?” The sultry voice of my father purred over the phone. Angling in, when the camera flicked on, there she was, Marianne Austin bare, on her knees and blindfolded as she cradled my father’s thumb in her mouth. “Tell me..”

A few short breaths later and she was whining out a response, “Sir..” It was mildly slurred as his thumb pressed down onto the slick back of her tongue and elicited but a subtle reaction from her gag reflex.

His belt began to clink.

Within a mere moment, I saw my father easing his member into her awaiting oral cavity. My mother was just blank..her expression, her lifeless way of staring at the jarring media..all but the silent weep that was blurring her vision. She watched it all. From start to finish, she never took her eyes off of it once.

And when they began the soft, post-orgasmic giggling and breathy laughing, the camera was discarded and the click that rang out was louder than when the video was actually playing.

Tick. Tock.

She was at a complete loss for words and I just couldn’t look back at her. I had folded my hands between the slightly ajar spread of my legs. Leaning forward, I took my phone down and dipped it back into my pocket. 

That was when the silence fell through. “How..long have you known..?” Her question was barely above a whisper, like she wasn’t even sure whether she wanted the answer to it.

“Two months..but it’s been going on for..much longer..” Somberly, I turned back to her with an equal, almost foreign amount of sympathy..replacing the ever-present apathy that I thought would’ve stuck when I told her at last. 

And then..the next. “Why..why didn’t you tell me, Azura..?”

Registering, processing and finally the buffering of my thoughts:

Why?

All this time, I had an ace of spades at my disposal. All this time, I had the power to finally make something give. I had the ability to fix my life and get rid of the man who had kept my mother practically collared and chained to his side for nothing more than a trophy wife to parade around solely to save face.

That’s when..he flickered in my mind. So vividly..so clearly. 

Flooding my senses once more was every memory that had transpired between Marko and I in the past few months. From our first meeting, to the agreement of doing the arrangement for a mutual benefit, the park, the party and..that fateful night which completely shattered the possibility of us ever being purely transactional.

“I couldn’t..” I finally said, pulling myself out of my stupor of muddled memories. “I knew that..I wouldn’t be able to see him again. I knew that you’d never forgive me for keeping it a secret from you..”

Her face softened despite the slight widening of her eyes. In an instant, her hands found my face as she turned me to look into her wet eyes and loving gaze. “Azura, I will never not allow you to see your father, you know this. No matter how much I might dislike him after this, that’s not your burden to bare—”

I gently took her hands down from my cheeks, holding them in my lap, barely at the fingertips. “Not..not him.” The words were a ghost on my lips as I gave her that same look..

The kind of look a child gives when they’ve broken something of value and don’t know how to tell their parents without the fear of the unknown. “I didn’t want to tell you..” I admitted in complete honesty, at last, letting my tears free fall down my face. “Because..I’ve..been sleeping with Marko for the past month.”

A whirlwind of emotions made sharp detours on her features. From confusion, to shock and all in between were the ones that were left unsaid and indescribable.

“And now, now it’s gotten to a point where I cannot..I don’t know where to go from here,” The resolve and any shred of control I’d had..was gone. “Ever since I met him, my whole world has been turned upside down.” My hands slipped from under hers as I let them swipe away the onslaught of emotions that poured from my eyes. “It’s too much. Every time I see him, I feel like my life is on the line but so safe in his hands. I feel like he’s driving me mad with every little thing he does..”

I was full-on sobbing at this point just..quietly. “I’m scared. I’m scared of what I’ve always been, I’m scared of what I’m becoming..” Cupping my face in my hands I let out a few choked cries as my chest burned with the fire of turmoil that I’d let fester there for so long. “He consumes my very existence. He plagues my thoughts, my ears, my eyes, my nose, my tongue..”

“I can’t stop thinking about him, hearing his voice in my ears, seeing him in the faces of other people, smelling his cologne so vaguely in the open air..tasting him on my lips…” I trailed off...I was shaking again. “And every second that I spend with him I feel like I’m going fucking insane..I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Peering in closer, my mother made the cautious motion of tearing my hands away from my face and finally, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling my head down into her. 

How long has it been since..someone held me like this?

I was wracked with each shuddering cry that rattled my ribs and lungs. “I’m terrified, mom..I don’t know what’s happening to me and I can barely think straight anymore..”

“I need you..I need help.” 

Those were the final words I uttered before she was just cradling me against her whilst I cried myself blind. It was everything in me not to scream at the top of my lungs. 

I thought that I was okay with..not being good. I thought I was okay with being nothing more than a warm body for him..just like he was for me. But the reality was so, so much worse. So much more detrimental and destructive than I ever anticipated.. Worse than a death, worse than the torturous days spent in a middle ground that was always teetering, worse than any kind of physical pain I could ever fathom before him…

I was in love.

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