#Marriage Visitor visa | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowpokeomens · 8 days

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The Bolter

Pairing: Joakim “Jolly” Karlsson x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None, tooth rottingly sweet

A/N: *taps mic* is this thing on? based on The Bolter by ts duh. Thank you to @throughwoodsanddirt for beta-ing half of this before I went off the rails and finished it in one sitting with zero edits. I’m a lost cause!

Jolly remembers clearly the first time he saw you. It would be hard to forget, given the gargantuan white gown you were wearing when you walked into the bar, veil askew in a crown of braids and curls.

He just wanted a beer. Touring is difficult, being in the studio with an uninspired Noah is resolutely more difficult. Seeing you walk into a pub wearing a wedding gown at 6 in the evening just confirms his suspicion that it was a rough day for everyone.

Lifting your skirts in a way that is far from becoming, you manage to plop yourself onto a barstool with a huff. The layers of fabric pool around you in a way that necessitates additional barstools on either side of you, leaving a seat between the both of you.

He’s staring, which would be rude if not for the fact that you clearly must be lost.

You catch his look, sighing in anticipation; it seems like you were hoping you wouldn’t have to explain why you are wearing a cupcake of a gown in a place that replaces the peanuts on the counter every three years.

Too bad, Jolly doesn’t say.

“Runaway bride.” You offer flatly, ordering something with whiskey in it.

He nods, as if that explains everything. It doesn’t.

Giving the bartender a grateful smile, you take a long drink from your glass, setting it down slowly. He didn’t notice before, but your hands are shaking.

“It’s like-“ You begin, hesitating. “You’re walking down this pristine, white aisle to a death march on a church organ, right? And everyone you have ever known is there. And you get to the end and - And you can see your entire fucking life ahead of you, only it’s awful, it’s not what you want at all.” Your brows slant down with dread, eyes misting over as you shake your head, playing with the condensation on your glass.

Jolly nods, getting a clearer picture of your circumstances. “It seems like you made the right call, then.” He offers.

You sigh again, sounding exhausted. “My mother is going to kill me. His mother is going to kill me.” Your eyes are wide, and Jolly can practically see you spiraling in your head.

Jolly never did the whole “marriage” thing, but he can understand what it feels like to confront your life and realize you hate it. He had a similar confrontation years ago, wherein he realized he hated his relationship, hated his job, hated the circumstances that landed him there. It was almost too easy for him to set off with nothing but a visitor visa and a suitcase to his name to play rockstar in a foreign land.

So, yeah, he supports running away a little every now and again.

He clicks his tongue in his cheek. “That sounds like a real risk. But-” He slides his empty beer mug back towards the bartender, nodding for another. “If you go back and marry whoever it is you so clearly don’t want to marry, I’ll have to kill you.”

It makes you crack a smile, and for a second he can see what you were aiming for: despite the haphazard position of your veil, the hair that escaped its ornate, bobby pinned prison, and the dingy stains to the hem of your puritanically white dress, you make a beautiful bride.

He tells you so, too. It makes your cheeks flush visibly, as you turn away to finish off your drink in one gulp. You take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, nodding once.

“Okay. I’m going to tell him I don’t want to get married.” You say, sounding like it is mostly directed at yourself.

Jolly nods anyway. Running out on the day of the wedding probably clued him in, He doesn’t voice aloud, knowing it wouldn’t help.

“I’ll cover your drink, go get ‘em, tiger.” He says instead.

You smile at him again, a sweet thing despite the doubt that fills your eyes. “Thank you.” Is your response, though he feels it’s not just for the drink.

He returns the grin, shooing you away with his hands. You dismount the barstool with a truly pathetic amount of grace, and he catches a glimpse of your ratty sneakers through the layers of tulle and silk. The image makes him smile as you march out of the bar, chin high in the air.

The bartender returns with a newly filled mug. “Been a while since we had a bolter.” He remarks with a grin at Jolly.

Jolly hums, lifting the glass to his lips, but says nothing.

__________________________

Echo Park is decidedly too hip and too crowded for Jolly’s taste. He likes kids, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about three hundred of them screaming and running around off-leash while their parents drone on about GMO’s and HOA’s and micro-dosing kale.

He manages to find a quieter patch of grass near the lake to settle on while the guys buy fourteen dollar coffee from some hipster place Nicholas was raving about last week. His coffee tastes like ass, and he can’t even really admire the view with all the stupid swan boats on the water.

He appreciates a gimmick, but the manufactured romance of a boat shaped like a swan is a bit much for anyone.

Eyes roaming across the cluster of obnoxiously white faux birds, his gaze lands on someone standing precariously on a boat. It sways dangerously as their arms flounder to stay balanced on the precipice of one broad, white wing. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he almost chokes on his coffee when the figure jumps into the water.

Is this lake even safe to swim in? He wonders, swearing he saw signs advising against it. A quick glance around confirms him that no one else was swimming, despite the warmth of the afternoon.

The figure in the water appears to be swimming away from their boat, though - their rowing partner yelling after them, too far away for Jolly to make out what’s being said. He realizes suddenly that the diver is growing closer to him, swimming towards land.

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to discern if this is a man or a woman, if they need help, if something terrible happened to them, if -

Oh.

He remembers that panicked expression.

You’re closer to the shore now, close enough that he stands up to walk to the water’s edge to help drag you out of the water.

You smell awful, whatever flesh-eating bacteria that lives in the water left a greasy, iridescent film on your skin that he can see in the direct sunlight. Your sopping wet clothes cling to your frame stiffly, restricting your movements as you clamber up onto the grass, gasping for air.

Jolly has no words for the absurdity of the situation. When he speaks, it’s the first thing that his mind can arrange into a sentence.

“What are you running from this time?”

Your chest is still heaving from the exertion of swimming all the way to the shore as you look over at him. Recognition flashes in your eyes, and you grin up at him. “First date.”

He must look lost, because you’re cackling now. You gather your breath as you tug at your shirt, as if stretching it would somehow dry it. “He asked me about my expectations of him as a husband.” You elaborate as you pick algae out from under your nails. “Said something about my duties as a wife, and I just-”

“Bolted.” He finishes for you. The impish grin you sport doesn’t reach your eyes as you shrug in response.

He understands. That sounds like a catastrophic first date: stuck on a boat shaped like a bird with some trad-dude who probably says things like “Alpha Male” unironically. Jolly commends you for being brave enough to jump to get away - flesh-eating bacteria and all.

You huff a breath, looking around with your hands on your hips. “I should get going. Those stupid boats are fast, and if he gets to the parking lot before I do, he might try to wear my face or something.”

Jolly can’t fight the snort that escapes him. “The boats are stupid.” He pauses, hesitating, but continues, “Do you need a lift?”

You wave him off, though. “Nah, I’ll be alright. Besides,” You raise an eyebrow at him playfully. “Maybe you want to wear my face, too.”

His laugh is a puff of air out of his nose, grin widening. “You caught me. Better get going, then.”

Your returning smile is blinding, especially given the contrast of being covered in… whatever all that shit is. “Catch ‘ya later!” Is your good-bye as you turn and half-jog towards what Jolly assumes is the parking lot.

Noah appears at his side then, staring after you. “What’s up with ‘The Creature From the Black Lagoon?’”

Jolly shakes his head, not sure where to begin.

________________________

Jolly doesn’t fully understand the appeal of dimly lit restaurants, and he’s beginning to fear it has something to do with his age. How is he supposed to see the menu with three tea lights to illuminate the entire table?

He orders something he thinks is fish with rice, but who knows? It could have been the filet mignon, with how goddamn dark it is in here.

Noah is swishing his wine around in his glass like that’ll make it taste better; he refuses to admit he doesn’t actually like Cabernet Sauvignon, and the subtle scrunching of his nose gives him away every time.

It makes Jolly chuckle quietly as he sips from his own glass. The wine is dry, but not awful. Certainly better than their Yellowtail days.

He’s unsure how, exactly, the next few moments transpire. He vaguely registers Nicholas reaching for the bottle at the same time as Noah, but he pays it no mind until the dark red liquid has escaped its vessel in favor of staining the white tablecloth and cascading onto his trousers.

His only response is a long-suffering sigh, eyes directed at the ceiling. Nicholas is chastising Noah, who’s insisting he didn’t do anything.

“It’s fine, guys, shit happens. It’s not like it was good anyway.” Jolly brushes them off as he stands, setting his napkin on an unsoiled section of the table as he looks around for the restroom.

The door swings shut just as he spots it, the tacky gold of the plaque reading “Monsieur” glinting at him with the movement.

Making his way over quickly, he resists the urge to wipe at his stained pants until he gets inside the restroom. He’s reaching for the paper towels when a flash of something catches his attention.

Legs.

Legs?

Yep, legs, dangling out of the window.

“Motherfuck-“ A voice hisses from the other side of the glass.

“Um.” Jolly starts brilliantly. “Do you need help?”

He hears a sigh, then the aforementioned legs drop down to the tiled floor, still turned away from him.

“Look, I’m not some weirdo, okay-“ You begin explaining yourself, freezing as you turn around. “Oh. You.”

Jolly can’t even try to fight back his grin. “We really must stop meeting like this.”

You smile back, giggling despite yourself. It goes beyond coincidence - it’s absurd.

Jolly leans against the counter, long since forgetting why he even walked into the restroom to begin with. “So, what’s the crime now?”

Your brow furrows as you share a knowing look with him. “Trust fund guy. Said he didn’t mind that I went to a state school.” Rolling your eyes, your hands smooth down your dress in a motion that could almost be called self-conscious. “Like, sorry my parents didn’t pay for an Ivy League and I had to settle on plebian state school, you fucking twat.”

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you idly pull a stray leaf out of your hair before turning back to Jolly. “ And yourself?” You prod lightly.

He gestures behind him, past the faux-wood door. “Buddy spilled wine on me. Here I am.”

Frowning sympathetically, you nod. “Hopefully something better than the Cab. I’ve had vinegar better than that shit.”

It makes Jolly laugh, how candidly you speak. Your expression is open, not hiding anything. He gets the feeling you couldn’t lie even if you tried.

“So, the window?” He looks around you. The window is easily 4 feet off the ground, a steep climb for anyone, much less someone in cocktail attire.

You look sheepish. “Well I couldn’t walk out the front door. He might tell the maître d’ that I stole his pocket watch or letter opener or whatever it is rich people bring to restaurants.”

Jolly huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Understood. C’mon then.”

You blink at him, confused. “Where?”

“The window?” He states like it’s obvious. It’s not, apparently. “Thought you were trying to get out of here? I’m assuming you have a getaway car.”

You flash him a smile that’s becoming familiarly dazzling. “This will make you an accessory, y’know. Much different from an innocent bystander.”

Jolly nods somberly. “Oh, I know. But,” He pauses, walking over to the window, “There’s escape in escaping. Up you go.”

He bends his knee, giving you a step to climb on to better reach the freedom awaiting you on the other side of the window.

Your eyes are brimming with mirth, clearly pleased with his offer. Stepping up gingerly, you grab his shoulder for stability, his hand resting on your back to help steady you.

Getting through the window looks infinitely easier this time as you shimmy through the opening. Though, Jolly reckons, the ease of your escape is definitely hindered by the fact that you have to army crawl underneath a bush directly outside the aforementioned window.

When you burst through the foliage, Jolly can only see your death trap heels and the torn hem of your dress. You squat down to wave at him, whisper-shouting “Thank you!” before taking off in the opposite direction.

Turning to the mirror to his left, Jolly takes in his own reflection. He looks a little flushed, though he supposes that’s from the exertion of getting you through the window. The stain on his pants, long since dried by now, stares back at him accusingly from the mirror. No way is it coming out now.

Whatever. He owns other pants.

__________________________

The late autumn air bites at Jolly’s cheeks as he hurries through the glass door of the coffee shop. It’s the closest to the studio, which could be convenient enough for him without the fact that their espresso is also the best in the tri-state area.

It’s warm in the shop, a fact only further emphasized by the light drizzle that picks up outside as Jolly walks to the register. He orders an Americano, paying quickly before scouting out a good spot for him to sit and doom scroll for a few minutes before he’s needed back in the studio.

His eyes are snagged by a familiar figure reading a book, nestled deeply into the couch that sags against the wall opposite him. Saying he tries to fight the smile that spreads across his face would be a lie, so he settles on grabbing his coffee and walking over to you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re not frantically running away from something.” He doesn’t know what makes him bold enough to say it, but he hopes the gusto of his words hides the way his hands are trembling around his paper cup.

Your eyes dart up quickly from your book, first slightly alarmed, then softening into a smile. Jolly doesn’t linger on the way it makes him melt a little.

“I always look cute, actually - especially when I’m on the run.” You inform him matter-of-factly, shifting over on the couch so he has room to sit. Despite your efforts, his leg still ends up pressed against yours when he settles into the couch.

“What did you order?” You inquire, nodding at his cup.

He follows your line of sight to the unassuming vessel. “This,” He begins grandly, “Is actually the best Americano you’ll find in town. Or state. Maybe even country.”

Your face morphs into a grimace. “Actually, I just remembered someone is sitting there and I need you to get the hell away from me.”

Jolly’s laugh takes him by surprise, coming out as a snort that gets muffled by the sleeve of his hoodie. “Actually, I can’t tolerate Americano slander, so you’ll need to move.”

_________________________

Your laughter chimes in his ear for a second before you remember where you are, shoulders shaking from the effort of silencing yourself. “Dude, seriously? Americano’s are for babies who can’t handle their espresso.”

Jolly’s eyes roll exaggeratedly as he takes a pointed sip from his coffee. “What did you get then? Something respectable I’m sure.”

Nodding haughtily, you show him your cup with nearly the entire alphabet on it. “This here is an iced white chocolate pumpkin mocha macchiato with oat milk, sweet cream cold foam, and a sprinkle of cinnamon.” It’s your turn to take a long swig from your cup, blinking at him slowly.

A look of revulsion passes overJolly’s face. “I don’t know what half of that means. Was that middle part even English?”

Snorting, it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Better than your nasty watery mess.”

Jolly is thinking of a comeback when his mouth involuntarily blurts, “Let me take you on a date.”

You look as shocked hearing the words as Jolly is to have said them. “A date?”

“Yes, a date.” Jolly confirms, then realizes you’re waiting on him to elaborate.”Whatever you want. Dinner, movie - hell, I’ll drink one of those awful ‘respectable’ coffees you like so much.”

A shy smile sneaks across your lips. Jolly finds himself entranced by the movement. “Yeah, alright, you can take me on a date.” You pause. “On one condition.”

Jolly can’t stop himself from leaning closer to hear you. “Anything.”

Your grin turns impish, mischief dancing in your eyes. “No swan boats.”

_________________________

Jolly is thankful for the few moments that make up this window of opportunity wherein no one is looking for him - or you, more importantly.

The venue is a labyrinth, and he’s suddenly grateful that you’ve both walked it so many times, finalizing seating charts and decorations and where the millions of extra tables would go for the food and the DJ and whoever else wanted a table, apparently.

Everyone is too busy hanging lights and flowers to notice him slip down the west hallway, speed-walking to the bridal suite. He finds it in record time, cracking the wooden door open just slightly.

“Psst. Is the coast clear?” He whispers.

“Well, it’s just me, so I guess so?” Comes your confused response.

Jolly grins as he quickly passes through the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

You’re seated in a plush chair, wearing a short silk robe that Jolly decidedly does not let his eyes rest on. Your hair has been ensnared by giant rollers, carefully arranged and pinned in place. Two half-moon masks rest underneath your eyes, which are now directed at the pair of shoes in Jolly’s hand.

“Baby, why do you have my sneakers-” You’re cut off by his finger against your lips.

“You have a history, y’know.” He begins seriously. “And I saw the shoes you picked out for today. You can’t make a run for it in those things, so I brought you something with a bit more arch support, should you decide to bolt.”

Your wide smile mirrors his own as you gently guide his hand away from your lips. “You think I’ll run, huh?”

“I don’t think anything. I’m just prepared for everything.” He counters, raising his eyebrows at you.

You huff a laugh as you take the shoes from him, setting them in your lap. “Have any dinner plans tonight?” You ask casually.

He shrugs, sitting in the chair opposite you. “My wife and I have plans, actually. Some big wedding she’s been talking about for months now. You?”

You shrug, mimicking him. “Oh, the same. My husband and I are going to a wedding as well. I hear the bride is a real bitch.”

His smirk is infectious, as if you can see the laugh he’s containing. “Well, maybe we’ll run into each other there.”

“Maybe we will.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, sock-clad foot coming up to rub alongside his calf through his sweats.

“I’ll bring the getaway car.” He’s leaning towards you now, staring at your lips.

You close the distance between the two of you, meeting him in a kiss. Pulling away just enough to murmur against his mouth, you say, “I’ll be the one in white.”

#ramblin gal #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #jolly karlsson fic #jolly karlsson x reader

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illanabehir · 10 months

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No one likes to have to do this but I have set up a GoFundMe for my treatment here in the UK.

I'm an American who got stuck here after a cancer diagnosis in May. I was on a marriage visitor visa so I could marry my now Husband in July.

As the plan was not to live here in the UK I need pay for my treatment.

Unfortunately after 6 rounds of chemotherapy we found out it grew and had a choice to make that weekend. We could stay or go home for the rest of the treatment.

Those rounds ended up costing £30,000.

That weekend my hand and a portion of my face went numb. We went back to the hospital and found out the cancer moved to my brain and I could not fly home.

So I've been stuck here receiving treatment that has been more intense than the previous rounds of chemotherapy. Which comes with a much higher price tag.

I don't have an estimate for the rest of the treatment for this since it's ongoing but I do have the cost of the Stem Cell transplant portion. That number ended up being £125,000 that needs to be paid upfront.

Any help is greatly appreciated be it donations or sharing.

#fundraising #gofundme #cancer #medical bills #please help

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m7z · 9 months

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In memoriam

I spent the last 30 minutes or so skimming through my Tumblr archive from 2011-2012 trying to find a post I know I wrote about my paternal grandparents’ love story, but I couldn’t find it. I probably moved it to another blog at some point and deleted it here. Along the way though I found all these other memories from my early 20s, such as my coming out/confession letter to a best friend from high school, many reblogs of sappy quotes/graphics/book snippets/lyrics, reblogs of photos of places I wanted to visit (many of which I’ve now been to), songs I liked, tech news from the era (like the death of Steve Jobs), political news from the era (like marriage equality, and Barack Obama’s reelection), many reblogs about Glee, my own photos from my early days of living in San Francisco (and interning at Twitter)… All of which is to say, it captured this whole era of my life from ~10 years ago that, in retrospect, was quite pivotal.

The reason I went looking for that post is because I found out yesterday that my grandpa passed away. My dad texted me and tried to call when I was in the middle of a work meeting. I registered the text but didn’t respond, and then called back after. It was the middle of the night in China at the time (around 2am), and he learned the news earlier when my aunt had called him, and she’d been notified by the staff at the seniors home where my grandpa had been living.

As I processed the news and decided on my plans, I told people the context that he had suffered a series of strokes and had been on the decline since last summer, so this news didn’t come as a shock. This is in contrast to my paternal grandma’s passing in January 2022 (also January) from a heart attack which was sudden, quick, and utterly shocking. As the matriarch of our family, her death had hit everyone really hard then.

At his passing, my grandpa was in his late 80s, possibly 87 or 88. Which is objectively quite a remarkable achievement for someone born into the chaos of 1930s war torn China to a poor rural/farming family. He joined the communist army as an accountant/admin, and then the local police after the war, and then worked at the state hemp/cotton company until retirement. He and my grandma met in their 20s, fell in love and got married despite oppositions (this is the story I had posted about that I was looking for), had 2 kids and 2 grandkids (one of which is me), traveled, had health issues and took care of each other, and grew old together.

I realized yesterday that I wasn’t reacting as emotionally as I did to my grandma’s passing — one because he’d been on the decline, and my dad/aunt thought he almost wasn’t going to make it after his last severe stroke in July. I think I had emotionally prepared for this back then, and so expected this to happen at some point. The other reason is that his quality of life in this last year, after these strokes, had become quite poor. He couldn’t eat or talk or walk, and had become reduced to almost just skin and bones. It had become painful to see him in this state, and I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore.

However, at the same time I still feel sad and regretful because I was hoping to see him at least one more time. Even though he hasn’t been able to speak since July, and he didn’t really recognize anyone anymore… even so, I was hoping he'd hang on until I visited again.

When my grandma passed in 2022, the pandemic, travel restrictions, and lack of flight options had made it virtually impossible to travel back. The last time I visited China was October 2019. Since then, in the last few years when we called, they’d almost always ask when I can go back again. My grandpa did this all the way up until his last stroke in July when he couldn’t speak anymore. When the pandemic largely ended in 2022, I’d always say “soon”, even knowing it was impractical with the Chinese government's onerous visa policies. When they finally reinstated the pre-pandemic visitor visa policies in March 2023, I started to say that I'll go back during the summer, then the fall, then the winter, then the spring. One reason is that the flight options were both expensive and inconvenient, but the larger reason is that I prioritized other plans in my life. I'm not sure where I could've squeezed it in, but I do regret that I didn’t try harder to visit sooner.

Circling back on the whole “eras of my life” thread — I always felt like as long as my grandparents were around, I still feel like a kid in some way. They treated me like one, still babied me whenever I visited or called, and would remind me of funny anecdotes from my childhood. I know I’m pretty lucky to have gotten 30+ years with almost all 4 grandparents in my life. I also know I’m lucky that they loved me as much as they did — because not all of my friends had the kind of close relationships I did/do with their grandparents.

Growing up, I was always pretty close to my grandparents, more so to my grandma who I genuinely enjoyed talking to and would call regularly, but I have many fond memories with my grandpa too.

I recall when my family first immigrated to Canada, I would cry about missing them. Later when I went back to visit as a teenager, I would cry on the flight back to Canada.

My grandpa liked to write simple rhyming poems after he retired, liked to drink and smoke and only quit in his 60s, and liked to sing Chinese opera. One year for my birthday, he wrote a “hidden message” poem where the first word of each verse added together would say “happy birthday <my Chinese name>”.

One really special memory of him I have is when I was in kindergarten, and during afternoon nap time (which I hated) he showed up unexpectedly and took me out of school. We didn’t live in the same city but he was in my city for a work trip, and he’d decided to take me out of kindergarten early that day so we could spend time together. I remember it feeling so unexpectedly awesome — one because I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to (skip school) but also because of the surprise visit itself.

The only time I felt emotional yesterday was when my mom told me how, even though I won’t be able to attend the funeral, I could pay my respects at both of my grandparents’ gravesites when I visit. The thought made me emotional because… they can finally be reunited again, or at least not be separated by death.

Didn’t really know what I was going to write when I started this, and the words kept pouring out, but I’m glad I did.

#my stuff #family #reflection #a real blog post

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torreshalstead · 11 months

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It Seemed Like a Good Idea - Chapter 19

Summary - Hailey’s US visa was due to expire, which normally wouldn’t be an issue as the CPD would get it renewed but due to a backlog of paperwork, this wasn’t possible. This meant Hailey was faced with the real possibility of having to leave the country, her job and everything she held dear. That was until Jay offered up a solution which would allow her to stay in Chicago, in Intelligence, with him - they could get married. Getting married was a good idea, right?

Chapters - 19/21

Chapter Title - The Confession

Notes - it’s been a long time coming but it’s finally time! Hope you all enjoy! AO3 Link

Will hung up the phone with a disgruntled huff. How could his brother be so stupid? He had never seen Jay happier than he had been since Hailey and he had tied the knot. Will knew that originally the marriage hadn’t come about because of a burning sense of true love, but he had also known from the start that his brother's feelings for his partner were more than just friendship. And over the past few months, he had seen Hailey’s feelings change too, even before her slightly botched confession to him in this very break room.

And now two people he cared about were about to make a huge mistake. If they got divorced now it would cause irreparable damage to their relationship, friendship even their partnership and Will wasn’t sure they would ever be able to walk it back from there.

His mother had always told him not to interfere in Jay’s romantic life, that he could stand up for him in a fight or when someone was picking on him, but matters of the heart were something he would have to deal with alone. That conversation had occurred when Will had considered asking Mary Sue to prom on behalf of Jay, he knew he had the biggest crush on the girl but was too chicken to ask her himself. But his smarter than most mother had said how would it look to a girl if his big brother had to get in the middle - the answer was not good. So Will had taken a step back and someone else had asked Mary Sue to prom.

But this was different, Jay couldn’t see what was right in front of his face. And he had told him he was in love with Hailey.

This wasn’t an unrequited teenage crush, this was two people who loved each other who were too self sacrificing or self deprecating to realise that the person they loved could possibly love them back. Or maybe they were both too stubborn. Whatever the reason, he had the power to do something about it and to hell if he was going to let his idiot brother make another idiot mistake and lose the best thing in his life.

He pulled out his phone and made two phone calls and hoped his mother would forgive him for interfering for what would hopefully be the final time.

——————————————————————————

Hailey barrelled into Med with speed for the second time that day, at this point they might as well make her a frequent visitor badge and she could earn a gold star for every visit - 10th visit is free.

Will had called her to say that the doctors had taken another look at Jay’s notes and test results and that the CT was needed after all, she had known it but that hard headed doctor, Doctor Sosa, hadn’t listened to a word she was saying. Will had said he had called Jay directly and he was coming in straight from the apartment so Hailey had abandoned the takeout salads she was putting together in the grocery store and legged it to her car.

Will hadn’t sounded too worried over the phone but needing a CT was never a good thing so she had dropped it all and made Med her new destination. Luckily Will had told her the exact room so she hadn’t needed to bother one of the ED nurses with her panicked wife/partner routine again and was currently bounding up the stairs two at a time as the elevator had taken more than two seconds to arrive and Hailey’s patience was at the end of its tether.

—————————————————————————

Unfinished paperwork, that was what Will had told him. Jay had tried to call bullshit but Will explained that without it he wasn’t being signed off as clear to return to work and Jay was damned if he was being stuck on desk duty any longer than he needed to be. He thought about shooting Hailey a text to let her know where he had gone but figured he’d be gone a maximum of 15 minutes and if she was worried she could give him a call. As per their last interaction Jay wasn’t certain she wanted to speak to him anyway. And he wasn’t sure he could blame her.

He as good as told her he didn’t want to be married to her anymore and then proceeded to get hurt at work and clearly scare the living daylights out of her if the way she had thrown herself at him at the hospital had been any indication. And then there was the fact that he was more in love with her than he thought was humanly possible. Talk about mixed signals.

Jay stomped his way through the hospital, searching for the room that Will had told him he would meet him in to complete the remaining paperwork. If he had thought it was unusual for Will to be handling the paperwork or that he would ask him to come to a patient room to complete it, Jay didn’t show it. He was more concerned with getting this done and getting back to the apartment before Hailey had a chance to worry. He had caused her enough worry.

Finding the door in question, he tugged it open.

‘Alright Will, let’s get this sorted,’ he said before coming to a halt when his eyes had a chance to focus. Will wasn’t alone in the room. Hailey was sat on a chair by the empty bed, her eyes filled with concern that phased to a hint of confusion at his arrival. Jay turned quickly to look at Will who had moved behind him to sneakily take a hold of the door handle and was pulling it closed with him on the otherwise.

‘I’m going to leave you both in here until you can discuss it like adults, okay?’ He said, a tiny smirk appearing on his freckled cheeks.

‘Discuss what?’ Jay said, confused.

‘How madly in love with each other you both are and how equally stubborn you are in refusing to admit it,’ Will said firmly and closed the door behind him. Jay heard the lock twist and moved forward to grab the door handle himself, rattling it and yanking it to no avail. The bastard had locked them in.

‘That bastard,’ Jay huffed, giving the door one final heave even though he knew it was useles at this point.

‘Why did you agree to marry me?’ He heard quietly from behind him. Jay let his head fall against the locked door with a thud. He should have known this was coming. It was clearly Will’s plan and after spilling his guts to him the previous night and his tone on the phone when he said he had got the divorce papers, Jay should have known he would pull something like this.

‘Why did you agree to marry me?’ Hailey asked again tentatively when Jay failed to turn around. He took a deep breath, tried to ignore how shaky it was and slowly turned to look at her. She was standing now, just in front of the plastic chair a couple of feet in front of him, the room was single occupancy so wasn’t large, he could be breathing the same air as her if he took just three steps forward.

‘Because,’ Jay said before swallowing and running a hand through his hair. Was he really about to tell her, tell her that he loved her, had loved her for months, for longer than he had known and that the thought of her leaving the country was not something he was willing to comprehend? He looked at her, at the shimmer of tears in her eyes, her golden hair flowing down over her shoulder, begging to have his hands run through it. She looked ethereal. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he knew in his heart he would ever see. And she looked hopeful? Like she wanted Will’s words to be true. Like she wanted him to open up to her and to confess his love.

‘Because I love you,’ Jay said with small chuckle he couldn’t control. His love wasn’t funny but the situation they had ended up in was. He saw her lips turn up into a smile, her hands stopped twisting around each other in nervousness and he let himself take a step towards her.

‘I’m not laughing because loving you is funny,’ Jay clarified with a little shake of his head, ‘it’s the most serious thing I’ve ever felt, but because we’re so stubborn that my brother had to lock us in a hospital room together to get us to admit our feelings to each other.’ Hailey let out a wet chuckle, the tears having broken through and were making their way down her cheeks. He longed to reach out and wipe them away, to cradle her face in his hands and to draw her lips to his, everything else forgotten. ‘Well because I’m stubborn,’ Jay carried on, taking another couple of steps forward when Hailey hadn’t said anything else besides her giggle, ‘so I needed to admit my feelings to you. I don’t expect you to reciprocate, or say anything. I just needed you to know, I just wanted-’

Hailey reached out and pressed a finger against his lips to stop his flow of speech, ‘I love you too,’ she whispered, her smile as soft as he had ever seen it. She loved him. His breath caught in his throat as he processed that she loved him back. ‘I guess we are both as stubborn as each other,’ she chuckled, letting her finger fall but instead of returning to her side, her hand fell to his neck, letting her thumb graze against his stubble. Her hand on him was like electricity, pulsing through her fingers into his skin.

Jay let his eyes close for a second, revelling in her touch before they flew open again as he remembered everything else he wanted to say. The dam was open now, there was no putting the genie back into the bottle.

‘I don’t want to divorce you,’ he said, letting his fingers curl around her waist and keeping her close. ‘I never wanted to, I just didn’t want you to stay tied to me if you didn’t want to be. We got married for a reason and that reason didn’t exist anymore. I was just trying to set you free,’ he said, choking back a tear as the woman that he had loved for so long was looking up at him with nothing but love and adoration. He had dreamed of this look, dreamed of holding her close and telling her he loved her, but only rarely did he let himself dream that she would say it back. Yet here she was, saying those words to him.

‘I don’t want to be free,’ she said back, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

‘That’s good,’ Jay said with a smile. ‘Because I want you with me for the rest of my life Hailey. I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible, you make me a better person, you make me laugh, you get mad at me when I get hurt which makes me never want to get hurt again. You’re the best person I know.’ He knew it was sappy, knew he was almost overdoing the love confession thing but how many times did you get to do this, to tell someone how much they mean to you. ‘And if you want to get divorced and never speak of this again, then I’ll submit the papers today.’ He said with a small frown because it was the last thing he wanted to do, but for her, he’d do it, he’d do anything she asked. ‘But I’m really hoping you don’t.’

‘I don’t,’ Hailey responded, and before Jay could take a breath, she had pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.

Before that moment he thought he had experienced everything he possibly could when kissing Hailey. He had relived the moments that their lips had joined on multiple occasions and the memory of the taste of her had seen him to sleep on restless nights. But he had never experienced this. Kissing someone back and knowing they are feeling the same thing as you, knowing they love you back, it was like a million fireworks going off at once, but silently in the night sky.

There was nothing in his head apart from the feeling of her against him, his hands on her hips, her fingers sliding through the hairs on the back of his neck, her lips pushing against his, prizing them open and their tongues meeting once again. If he never felt anything like this again, Jay thought, he would die a happy man. This was the happiest he had ever been.

He wrapped his arms around her back and lifted her up slightly so they were on the same level, she giggled slightly at the movement and he felt her smile against her lips.

‘I love you,’ he murmured in between kisses.

Pulling back he let their foreheads rest together but didn’t place her back on the floor, her weight in his arms was a comforting sensation and he wanted to live in the feeling a moment longer.

‘You can put me down you know,’ Hailey said quietly, ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Not willing to risk it,’ he said and squeezed her tightly.

‘Jay, you’re at risk for concussion and pretty sure the doctor said no strenuous activities,’ she sassed.

‘Firstly, he said no such thing, don’t worry,’ and he winked at her, eliciting another round of girlish giggles from her. ‘And secondly, Hailey you weigh almost nothing, there is nothing strenuous about this.’ He gave her a peck on the cheek but loosened his hold on her slightly so she slid down his front until her feet touched solid ground again.

For a brief moment they just got lost in each other’s eyes, smiles fixed firmly on their faces, arms still looped around each other, not even the slimmest of gaps present between their two bodies.

‘What happens now?’ Hailey asked softly, breaking the silence.

‘We get Will to unlock this door and we go home I guess,’ he said with a small shrug, reaching out to push a wayward lock of hair back behind her ear, letting his fingers brush gently against her skin.

‘And then we stay married?’ She asked.

‘If that’s what you want,’ Jay said honestly. ‘I want you as my wife Hailey, but if you don’t want that then we submit the papers. If you want to divorce but then date, I’ll do what you want. If you want me to move out and start from scratch like a regular relationship, we can do that too. Whatever you want.’

Hailey seemed to consider her options for a moment and Jay held his breath. ‘I don’t want any of that,’ she said, her blue eyes twinkling. ‘I want to be your wife Jay. I don’t want you to move out, though you can move out of the spare room if you want. I want this. I want you.’

That was all Jay needed to hear to crash his lips back into hers and let all his senses get filled with her. Her taste on his tongue, her soft moans filling his ears, his hand had snuck its way under her shirt and was now flat against the smooth skin of her back and he could smell her floral shampoo. It was an all out attack on his senses and he loved it. She was everywhere and he couldn’t get enough.

Hailey seemed to be equally enjoying it if the way her fingers were digging into his hair was anything to go on. And both were too wrapped up in each other to hear the door behind them click open until Will’s voice entered the room and broke the spell.

‘Glad to see you two have come to your senses,’ he chuckled and Jay pulled back from Hailey slightly to give his brother a death stare for interrupting them. He kept his arms tightly locked around her though, a subconscious action to keep her close to him. ‘But you need to get a different room, preferably not at the hospital as we need this for patients.’ He chuckled again, shaking his head slightly but Jay could see the grin still plastered on his face as he left them alone again but this time with the door wide open.

‘Come on then,’ Jay said, unwrapping his arms but linking the fingers of his right hand with her left. ‘Let’s go home.’ And as he walked out of that room hand in hand with his wife, he realised the word home had never held such meaning as it did in that moment. Home was no longer just a place, four walls and a roof. Home was a person. Home was a feeling, a feeling of safety, of love, of wantedness. Home was Hailey, and he intended to show her for the rest of his life, exactly what that meant to him.

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