#She can usually handle herself better than Tyler could even dream of

[dyde21]

Rescue

I know this isn’t the marchingband!AU fic you’re all waiting for, but I honestly got really inspired and wanted to indulge myself in a short story for my OC’s. It’s cute, and Ashe is usually the badass one in most of my story so letting Tyler play the hero for a bit is fun. Please check it out if you have a moment!

XxXxXxXxX

“Don’t be scared girl, I’m sure they’ll bring the reli-”

“I’m not scared.” Ashe interrupted, rolling her eyes. She shifted her arms, feeling the handcuffs adjust and strain.

She looked around the room. There were three people guarding her at the moment. The main guy who had snuck up on them, and two other guards who were on either side, bored but keeping watch. 

“Tough one, I see.” He muttered. “Whatever. If they’re smart they’ll make the deal without an issue and no one needs to get hurt.”

Ashe laughed despite herself. “We’re a little past that point. You guys already made three big mistakes.”

He stepped closer to her, his eyes narrowing as glared at her. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand the situation you’re in.” He offered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “The only reason you’re still alive is because you’re more useful to us alive.”

Ashe raised an eyebrow. “I understand things perfectly. I’m also alive because you know if you harmed or killed me, my sisters would burn this place to the ground, after burying you alive.” Her voice was even, her gaze piercing as she dared him to deny it. 

He just set his jaw, shrugging his shoulders. “Your death would be a pain the ass, I’ll admit. But they know we aren’t joking around. It’s just business. We’ll get the relic and you’ll be on your way.”

Ashe just sighed. “There’s no chance you’re getting the relic. I honestly doubt you’ll even walk away from this, since you made three mistakes after all.”

Her captor crossed his arms. “I did? Care to let me know what I did wrong?”

Flicking her head to the side to get her bangs out of her face, she smirked at him. “Sure.”

“One, you’ve managed to piss off my almost annoyingly calm boyfriend. He has a bit of a temper, and messing with me is honestly one of the stupidest things you can do around him.”

He scoffed at her. “LIke I’m afraid of your little boyfriend.”

Ashe laughed darkly. “Underestimating him isn’t a good idea.”

As if on cue, there was a faint rumbling in the distance, causing some stray dust to fall from the ceiling. Everyone in the room looked up at it. 

The guy in charge turned to one of the other guards. “Go check things out.” He barked out the order, as the guy ran off to check on things.

THis just caused Ashe to laugh. “The second mistake you made was telling them where you were. You saved them the trouble of having to find me, hoping for the exchange. You brought hell right to your doorstep.”

“Shut up!” He snapped, pulling out a walkie talkie, but he couldn’t get a response aside from the sound of yelling and fighting on the other end. 

Ashe could make out the familiar sound of ice shattering as she felt a flurry in her heart. She knew Tyler would come for her. She had gone through hell to save him once, and she had no doubt in her heart that he would do the same. 

The rumbles continued, getting closer and closer each time.

“You better hope he doesn’t reach us, or both of you are dead.” The man barked, drawing his sword.

Ashe just started humming to herself as she flexed her wrists again. 

“Frosty the snowman, was a very jolly soul…” She began to sing ominously as the crashes drew nearer and nearer. 

Glancing down, she could see her breath now as the temperature of the area continued to plummet rapidly. 

The other guard in the room trained his bow on the door and Ashe rolled her eyes. LIke that was going to stop him. 

“The third mistake you made was separating us. There is nothing in this world that can keep us apart.”

She finished.

“Shut up!” He roared as he stormed over to her, lifting her out of the chair and holding her in front of him, a knife at her throat. 

She tensed up slightly, but continued to watch the door. “Come on…” She muttered.

The rumbling stopped and for a few moments the entire building fell eerily silent. 

“Wha-”

A second later the door exploded open as a wall of icy mist exploded into the room, obscuring vision. 

Ashe flinched as she felt a familiar rush of cold air, the sound of ice rapidly expanding and another crash. 

When the mist faded, both sides of the room had been frozen, the man with the bow knocked against the wall out cold and his legs frozen in place.

Tyler was standing in the doorway, sword and shield drawn as he stared in the room. His look was downright murderous, until they met hers and she saw relief flood through them. 

He didn’t vocalize the words, but his mouth formed the words “I love you.”

“Let her go.”

He offered one warning to her captor. 

“Like hell I will.”

Tyler took a step forward. “The twins are here too, you’re lucky I got here first. If you want to make it out of here alive, drop her now.”

The man seemed to pause for a moment. 

Ashe just rolled her eyes. “At least I don’t need to wait for you guys to get here anymore.”

With two sharp movements of her arms, the hyper heated metal chain of the cuffs snapped in two as easily as her hands shot up, grabbing the knife and twisting his wrist with a sickening crack, making him drop it, before she dove to the side.

A second later another wave of ice crashed against her previous captor, sending him crashing against the back wall, before ice crept up him and froze him to the wall completely.

“Thanks for the hel-” She was cut off as she was suddenly pressed against Tyler’s chest as he wrapped her in a bear hug.

She just smiled, returning the hug.

“You’re safe.” His words were soft, and Ashe was pretty sure he wasn’t even talking to her. 

“I knew you’d come. I wasn’t worried.”

“I was.”

Looking up, she saw him looking down at her, his brow furrowed in that way she found both cute and worrying. Reaching up, she smoothed it out with her thumb. “We’re together.” She offered, before kissing him. 

He returned the kiss for a moment before he broke away, turning towards the man recovering against the wall, still frozen in place.

Ashe felt another rush of cold air as a long cold spear of ice formed in her boyfriend’s hand. He took a step towards the man. He was quiet, but the temperature in the mostly frozen room was still plummeting even lower. Tyler’s rage was the polar opposite of hers, it was cold and direct. Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around his wrist, willing her hand to warm up as steam began to escape from their grasp. 

Slowly the ice spear bean to melt around where he held it as she slid her hand lower, melting the middle of it causing it to shatter and fall to the ground as she intertwined her hands with his. “Hey, relax. He’s not worth it. He was rather polite as far as hostage takers went.” She said, gently tugging him away from the room. She wasn’t about to let Tyler do something he’d regret later. 

“Let’s just go, please.” She said.

He glanced at her, looked back at the man for a second, before sighing, his shoulders finally relaxing for the first time since she saw him. She knew it was over. 

“Okay.” He said after a moment. “Let’s go.” He said, squeezing her hand a little. “But…”

He turned, dropping her hand for a moment as another spear formed in it. She just watched with an eyebrow raised, knowing him well enough to know what he was probably thinking. 

With a rather impressive throw, the ice spear launched towards the man, stabbing the wall next to his head and slowly starting to freeze, just inches from his face. 

“Don’t ever bother us again.” He threatened.

A second later a flaming arrow impaled the wall on the other side of his head. “Next time, I won’t play nicely.” She warned.

Tyler looked over at her, smirking at her. “You’re hot when you’re all threatening.”

Laughing, Ashe let her bow dissipate again as she messed up his hair. “And you have horrible timing for flirting. Let’s go before Ali breaks the entire building.”

The man took a deep breath, his eyes closed as he realized he wasn’t actually about to die.

As they walked out of the building, Ashe glanced around. She saw various walls busted open, and a solid layer of ice practically covered everything.

“You kinda overdid it.” She said with a whistle of appreciation. Her boyfriend really was getting stronger.

He shrugged. “I was mad. Besides, you literally blew up a building so I don’t want to hear it from you.”

She blushed, realizing he wasn’t wrong. She had been a little… unstable during that period. Still, now they were together again. As they were meant to be. “Date night?”

“Date night.” Tyler affirmed as the twins ran up to give Ashe a hug.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! Sassy Ashe is super fun for me to write. Plus, like I said, Ashe is not usually a “damsel in distress”. Usually the opposite actually, so it was fun to experiment with the other side of things. To any of you who actually read it, thank you! I appreciate it so much and as always feel free to ask questions or give prompts for my OC’s. They mean everything to me. More PJO stuff soon!

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 12

Title: In the Quiet

Warnings: very brief mention of sexual abuse

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip​

He wakes to the press of her warm body against his and the smell of her hair. A mixture of coconut and honey; an inexpensive shampoo that she’s been using for more than a decade and he never tires of. It’s the scent of home; the reminder of the place where he’s the happiest and feels the most comfortable and secure. Where he can be himself without judgment; not looked down upon for his weaker moments or when the darker days of battling his own mind have him feeling scared and vulnerable. For years he’d tucked that side of himself away; using booze and pain meds as a way to mask the pain and escape the demons and the monsters of the past. He’d become emotionally absent; refusing to make connections with anyone out of the fear of becoming too close and getting too attached, only to lose them. And he’d convinced himself that he was unable to love or be loved; years of torment at the hands of his father and the horrible decision he’d made while his child was dying condemning him. It seems like a lifetime ago now; a whole other existence entirely. In the last twelve and half years he’s learned to love again; wholly and unconditionally and so profoundly it is physically painful at times. And he’s allowed himself to be loved in return; blessed with a woman that knows his deepest and darkest secrets and sees past all his faults. Who forgives his mistakes and always gives him another chance, even when he knows he’s not deserving of it. And seven children that he’s had a hand in creating; incredible little human beings that adore and trust him without hesitation.

It’s a life unlike anything he ever thought possible. When both the enormity of his horrible decision regarding his son and his profound grief had set in, he’d sought comfort in the bottle and the unpredictability of a dangerous and bloody career. Relegating himself to a solitary and miserable existence; refusing to allow anyone to get too close and using women for nothing more than sexual gratification. Convincing himself that he didn’t deserve anything beyond that; a warm body on a lonely night and that beaten and battered shack in the outback with its rusted tin roof. Knowing if he wasn’t lucky enough to catch that fatal bullet while on a job, he’d more than likely die there on the dusty floor; drinking himself to death or OD'ing on a mixture of painkillers and cheap whiskey. There were days he prayed for it; an end to the demons that had been tormenting him since the moment he’d gotten the call in Afghanistan that his only child had passed away.

Part of him had died the moment Austin had; all the experiences he’d hoped they’d share, all the dreams he had about what his son would achieve and who he’d become suddenly coming to an abrupt end. Logically, they’d ceased to exist months before. When the specialists had said that despite their best efforts with both chemotherapy and radiation, the cancer had returned and was just far too aggressive and advanced; palliative care and pain management the only remaining options. But while his wife had been devastated and immediately began planning for the inevitable, he’d clung to that faint hope that the medical professionals were wrong; some miracle would occur and Austin would beat the odds. Reality soon began to set in, and it was then that Tyler had discovered just how weak and vulnerable he really was; turning to alcohol to numb the pain, spendings hours and sometimes days away from home because he couldn’t bear seeing his son suffer and his wife run herself ragged and fall deeper and deeper in the pit of despair and grief.

He hadn’t been able to handle it; unable to ‘man up’ and be who and what both of them had so desperately needed. Despite the ongoing issues in their marriage and her long and sordid history of cheating -and the rumours that the kid wasn’t even his to begin with- she had deserved so much better. And he had longed to give her that; a shoulder to cry on and someone to help with the burdens of caring for a terminally ill child. But he’d chickened out. His own grief and fears getting the better of him; unable to handle the realization that he was a total failure. So he ran. Volunteering to head overseas instead of staying behind and stepping up. Leaving his wife to handle everything on her own and his son to wonder what he’d ever done to deserve being abandoned.

It doesn’t hurt as much as now. Not just the trauma of seeing your child suffer and waste away, but the guilt and the regret his poor decision had brought about. It’s taken years of therapy to get as far as he has; moments of profound anguish as every single one of the skeletons in his closet came tumbling out. It took reliving the initial pain to kick start the healing; periods of immense grief for the child he’d lost followed by periods of extreme self loathing and time spent in the deepest and darkest bits of despair and desperation. But it HAD helped; the guilt and regret lessening, the hatred for himself losing some of its power. It will always linger just under the surface; the sting of the decision he’d made, how he sees himself as a monster not just because of it, but because of the things he’s had to do while on the job. Killing had never been about satisfaction or enjoyment. It had always been a means to an end; his chances of survival hinging on whether he could be quicker to pull the trigger or if he could outwit, outsmart, and out strength his opponents. And the only times he had gotten some pleasure out of it -other than just recently in Laos and Cambodia- had been five years ago. When he’d brutally and bloodily taken the lives of two of Mahajan’s men in an elevator in Mumbai, and when he’d had no chance but to eliminate that threat that had drugged and attacked him first. It had been personal then; threats made against his wife and his children. And taking the lives of those who would have delighted in torturing and murdering his family HAD given him a sense of satisfaction.

The demons of the past don’t carry as much weight now. Their power significantly decreased. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments when self hate and disgust DON’T return. When his mood is dropping and he’s more prone to returning to the pain and the regret of the past. It doesn’t happen often; medication and therapy helping to keep those moments to a minimum. But they do make an appearance. Self loathing making a comeback; reminding him of all the things he’s said and done that DO make him a monster and telling him that he doesn’t deserve the life he has now. That he’s committed way too many heinous acts to ever be truly forgiven. Absolution would never come his way; he's too far gone for THAT. In the same way guys like him aren’t allowed to love and be loved in return. And that’s when the fear kicks in; the concern that his life is way too good to be true and everything that is beautiful and perfect in it will be taken away to teach him a lesson. His protectiveness stems from it. The fear and worry profound; driving him to hold on to what he has even tighter than usual. On those days it all becomes too much to bear; a tightness in his chest and an ache that reaches to his very soul.

Some of that returns now; the fear that tugs at his chest and gnaws at his stomach. It had started last night; decorating the tree with the kids and coming across the ornament that Millie had made for Austin years ago. It’s always bittersweet; remembering what he’d lost while reminding himself of everything he has now. Had things gone differently and Austin never gotten sick, life would have been dramatically altered. His marriage somehow managing to be salvaged despite her inability to stay faithful, or at the very least being able to co-parent peacefully and amicably. He would have stayed in the military; grief and regret and the feelings of failure never turning him towards alcohol and pain meds to numb the pain and effectively ending what could have been a great career in special forces. Had he stayed with SASR and kept on the straight and narrow, mercenary work would have never even been on his radar. And that’s when things become complicated and troublesome. Even if his marriage HAD still fallen apart, there would have been no chance of ever meeting Esme. It WAS the job that led him to her; years as a hired gun somehow culmination with him coming face to face with who would turn out to be the love of his life. He had always thought he’d loved Sarah; she’d been his high school sweetheart and his first of many things. And it wasn’t until he was thirty-five that his eyes had been opened to just how wrong he’d actually been. Simply by chance meeting someone that would -even twelve and a half years later- take his breath away. Who would see past his jagged edges and the amount of baggage weighing him down and take a chance on him; looking past the mess he’d made of his life and patiently tearing down all the walls he’d build up around his heart. Who still looks at him as if he’s the most incredible man on earth; loving him with everything she has and everything she is and possessing an extraordinary amount of blind faith and trust.

She IS love. Everything that is beautiful and perfect about it. Never given up on him or them. Had Austin NOT died, he never would have found her and would have never known real love in its purest and most unconditional of forms. And his kids wouldn’t exist; seven incredible little human beings that he’d had a hand in creating. And even if he could go back in time and change things, he wouldn’t. He would choose to bear the pain of Austin’s death and the punishment that came with the horrible choice that he made. In the same way he’d accept the Dhaka job a million times over; taking a million bullets to the neck if it meant he’d be rewarded with what he has now.

*****

She lies with her back to him and her head resting on his arm. It had long ago fallen asleep; pins and needles stretching all the way from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. They’d decided to bed down in the sunroom; pushing the love seat and the couch together to form a ‘nest’ and then fetching old comforters and pillows from the downstairs linen closet. Sometime in the early morning hours, she’d moved closer to him; briefly waking from her slumber long enough to move from her stomach to her side and then snuggling tightly into him. It’s a common occurrence if she has a bad dream. A desire for closeness; needing the feel of his much larger and bulkier frame against hers, quickly comforted by the warmth that radiates from it. His own eyes had never opened, body moving instinctively as he slid one arm between her head and the pillow while the other wrapped around her waist; drawing her even tighter against him, palm flat against her stomach and his face buried in her hair.

In the years he’d spent between his first marriage falling apart and meeting Esme, he’d gotten used to sleeping alone; enjoying the space and the freedom that came with having the entire bed to himself. In Dhaka, he’d been more than prepared to sleep on the floor until tempers flared; a heated argument erupting, fuelled by both sexual frustration AND tension, and his worry and fears surrounding what he was actually feeling towards her. It had taken some getting used to; having a body in bed with him throughout the night and waking up with them still there in the morning. But the adjustment had come quick, and by the third night he’d found himself actually enjoying the way she’d move closer to him; loving the feel of her skin against his and the brush of her hair and that soft, beautiful scent that lingered in it. Now he struggles to find rest without her. Used to the sound of her breathing and the weight of slender frame against his and the little noises she makes in her sleep; the soft sighs and the occasional murmur and giggles and the moments she starts to carry on very detailed conversations. All those little things that make her, her. And that he misses horribly when he’s away from home.

She rolls over to face him, eyes remaining closed as she issues a long, soft sigh and her hand comes to rest on his hip. The tips of her fingers dip below the waistband off his sweats; thumb repeatedly brushing against the slice of skin between the top of his pants and the hem of his t-shirt. For several minutes he watches as she sleeps. Eyes taking in every inch of her face; smiling and marvelling at the thought of how he’d not only somehow managed to both find her, but have her fall in love with him. She’s beautiful; the freckles splashed across and down the bridge of her nose, the long, dark eyelashes that skim the tops of her cheeks, the curve of her lips and the smooth line of her chin. It’s in those quiet moments where he only sees the damage done to her; the handful of small scars left behind from Mark’s fists and whatever ‘weapon’ he could get his hands on; electrical cords, wire hangers, heavy work boots and porcelain mugs and plates. There’s more. So much more. Disturbing ways that her ex husband had come up with to torture her both physically AND mentally.

There’d been other abuse as well; moments she’d been forced into sex itself or terrified into performing acts. And while it’s all equally vile and disturbing, THAT bothers him more than anything else. The fact that someone could violate and betray her in such a disgusting way. Someone that was supposed to love her; who’d taken vows to honor her and cherish her and care for her. And when she finally confessed the true extent of the abuse, the full story had sickened him; horrified and enraged at the thought of anyone touching her...the love of his life...in such a way. And it’s amazing. The fact that she’d not only managed to survive the abuse with her spirit and sanity intact, but that she’d been so willing and able to trust him. Giving everything of herself from that very first night in Dhaka; placing both her body and her heart in his hands and having all the faith in the world that he wouldn’t destroy them.

He places a palm over her ear; fingers splayed against her dark tresses and his thumb tracing the faint scar that cuts through the middle of her right eyebrow and travels up into her hairline. And when his hand moves to the back of her head and his lips find her brow, she gives another sigh; long and content, warm breath wafting against his skin. A soft smile curving her lips as her eyes flutter open and meet his.

“Sleeping beauty awakes,” he greets, and combs his hand through her hair, allowing the silky strands to slip slowly through his fingers. Lips pressing against her brow, followed by the bridge of her nose.

The smile broadens and those dark eyes sparkle. “Morning.”

“Morning. You good?”

“For the most part. You alright?”

“I’m perfect. It actually turned out to be a lot more comfortable than I thought it would be. You sleep okay?”

Esme shrugs. “I’ve had better.”

“You got up pretty early. Bad dream?”

She nods.

“You want to tell me about it or…?”

“Not really. It’s not something I want to relive.”

“Was it about me?”

“And Ovi. And me.”

“So a Dhaka dream?”

“Unfortunately. The first time there. And I haven’t had a dream about that in a long time. I was kind of hoping I’d never have one again, but....”

“Like Doctor Klein said, it’s never going to go away completely. It DID happen. We can’t pretend it never did.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to dream about it. It was bad enough living it. Do I really have to go through it all over again? While I’m asleep? It’s been twelve and a half years. Since it happened. And I haven’t had a dream about it in at least three. Now all a sudden it’s starting up again? What the hell is that about?”

“Me going away probably brought up some bad shit. And you’ve been stressed. That’ll do it.”

“I’m always stressed at Christmas. I always work myself up. Over stupid shit.”

“Doesn’t help that your mum sent that stuff from the kids and she’s been calling five times a day.”

“She knows what she’s doing, you know. This is a ploy. To fuck with me. She doesn’t bother for years and then all of a sudden decides to play the role of the perfect, doting grandmother? How long has she spent purposefully ignoring our kids? Treating them like second class citizens? Playing favourites? She pretty much stopped keeping track after Declan. I’m surprised she even remembered we had three more after him.”

“I’m kind of surprised she even remembered ANY of their names.”

“She’s not doing it for them. It’s not because she loves them and wants to spoil them. Her love is conditional. It always has been. And she knew getting in contact would bother me. That it would get under my skin and I’d dwell on it and I’d eventually cave and get in contact with her. Isn’t it enough that I sent a text message thanking her? Or that I’ll have the kids make thank you cards and send them to her? Do I REALLY have to talk to her?”

“Normally I’d say just ignore her and I’d remind you that you don’t owe her or anyone else in your family anything, but she’s only to keep calling. She’s only going to step it up and get worse. And seeing as we’d like to enjoy Christmas and have a nice peaceful holiday…”

“Maybe I should let my phone die and we’ll just use yours. Chances are she won’t message you.”

“The perks of being at the top of her most hated list, I guess. Why don’t you just block her?”

“Because then she WILL get a hold of you. And that won’t end well. You’re due for losing your shit on someone. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“Not like she wouldn’t deserve it.”

“I’ll just keep ignoring her. Maybe she’ll get the picture and just give up.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just talk to her and let her say what she has to say? Let her run her mouth and hang up on her. Then block her. Boom. Done.”

“I don’t want to hear her shit though. I’m already not in a good place. Mentally, speaking. Why let her make it worse? That’s just asking for trouble. And I really do not want to spend my Christmas doped up on Valium or drunk off my ass. Maybe you could message her. From my phone. Pretend you’re me. Telling her off.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll know it’s me. But I’ll take one fo the team. She already hates me and wishes I was dead. Can’t get any worse than THAT.”

“Who gives a fuck what she says. Isn’t that what you always say? Fuck what my family says? Let’s NOT talk about them.”

******

She wriggles closer to him; the fabric of her plaid shirt pressed against his chest and her cheek resting on his pillow. A hand sliding under his tee and over his ribs and around to his back; fingertips repeatedly grazing up and down his spine. And he lays a palm on the back of her head and presses his lip to her temple; allowing them to linger there for several seconds before resting the side of his nose against hers. Neither speak as time ticks on. Eyes closed and warm breath tickling skin. The tips of his fingers burrowed in her hair and gently massaging her scalp as hers continue their exploration of his back; travelling over the various and tracing the outline of the tattoo that sits between his shoulders. It’s when she reaches the scar left behind from Nathan’s attack that he pulls back to look at her, finding those dark, soulful eyes staring up at him.

“Does it hurt?”

Tyler shakes his head. “Not this morning.” Some days there’s discomfort there. More a tightness than an actual ache; damage done to the nerve sometimes causing loss of sensation into his hip and down the back of his leg. Other times it feels as if the wound is freshly acquired; a burning and throbbing that reminds him of the moment Nathan had stuck his fingers into the bullet hole to cause more pain and inflict greater damage.

“It’s been okay? For the most part?”

“More good days than bad days. Sometimes it feels like there’s something stuck in there; moving around and pressing against shit.”

“There’s no actual chance of that, right? That they left something in there? I mean, they showed me the bullet. They got it all out. Or at least it looked like it did. Do you think something could have been left behind? A small fragment? Do you think…?”

“I think you need to stop worrying. It’s been five years. Almost six.”

“Even after twelve years, I don’t think you fully comprehend that I CAN’T stop worrying. It’s who I am. I worry about the people I love. And I love you a bit more than everyone esle, so…”

“A bit more, huh?”

She grins and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Just a bit. You know what would be nice? If we could stay here all day. Right here. Cuddled up just like this.”

“It would be,” he agrees, and slides his forearm between her shoulder and the cushions; hand coming to rest on her upper arm, thumb repeatedly brushing against smooth skin. “But..”

“No,” Esme protests, and nuzzles her face into his neck; head under his chin and her nose pressed against his Adam’s Apple. “No ‘buts’. I don’t want to hear any ‘buts’.”

“As much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, we DO have kids. Who very shortly are going to discover we’re not upstairs and come looking for us.”

“Let them fend for themselves. We deserve a break. A mommy and daddy break.”

“Few more months, babe. And then two weeks. Just us.”

“In Santorini,” she reminds him.

“Wherever you want to go, that’s where we’ll go.”

“Still doesn’t mean I WANT to move anytime soon. I’d still rather lie here with you all day. Preferably with less clothes on.”

“I was hoping for totally naked, myself.”

“Me too. Just lie, totally naked, and make love. All day?”

“All day?”

She pulls back to look at him; a grin playing on her lips and her eyes sparkling playfully. “What? You don’t think you have it in you anymore?”

“I was more worried about you no longer being able to handle that kind of thing.”

“Oh don’t you worry about me. You know how resilient and tenacious I am. And how I’m fully committed when I’m really into something.’

“I’ve seen all of that first hand. I could handle it. I’d need water and food breaks, but I’d be game.”

Placing her elbow on the cushion below, she props the side of her head in her upturned palm, fingers of the other hand tracing the tattoo that decorates the left side of his neck. “Remember our little apartment? Outside of Sydney?”

“I do. I remember it very well.”

“When you finally got out of the rehab place and were finally able to live there full time? Instead of just weekends home? We had A LOT of those days in bed. Enjoying each other as much as we wanted. Rarely wearing clothes even when we DID leave the room.”

“The good old days, you mean?”

“We had some really good times in that little apartment. It was kind of weird though, don’t you think? Living together and having a baby while still in the process of really getting to know one another? It was strange. How we tackled things. Wasn’t exactly a normal way of going about it.”

“I figured we didn’t start out normal, so why bother going that way?”

“There was definitely nothing conventional about how we met. It’ll make a great story one day. For one of our kids to tell on our fiftieth anniversary.”

“Only thirty eight more years to go. Think you can handle it?”

“I think I’ll be okay. Do you think YOU can?”

“I’m pretty sure that if we could survive the past twelve years...especially the last five...that there's nothing we CAN'T get past.”

“Listen to you all sappy first thing in the morning,” she teases, and hooks a finger around the chain that dangles from his neck and pulls him into a kiss. “By the way, your daughter and I had a very interesting conversation yesterday. While you were out with the rest of the spawn.”

Sighing heavily, he presses a final kiss to her forehead and then rolls onto his back; hands pushing through his hair before clasping them together at the nape of his neck. “If it’s about periods or boys, I do NOT want to hear it.”

“I’ll go easy on you; I think I’ve tortured you enough for the time being. I still say you need to be prepared. Just in case…”

“And I’ll let you do what you need to do to get me prepared. I have faith in you. That you won’t throw me to the wolves.”

“I would never.” She rolls onto her stomach and props herself up on both elbows. “And this isn’t about Millie herself. Just something she’s concerned about.”

“And you promise it’s not about her period or boys?”

“I promise. It actually surprised me. And I thought with having a mercenary husband and after birthing four boys, that there was nothing that could possibly surprise me anymore.”

“Is she okay? Millie?”

“She’s fine. She’s Millie. There’s nothing wrong with her. Like I said, it isn’t really about her. It’s about something she’s worried about. And to be honest, I’m kind of worried about it too. A lot worried, actually.”

“You’re starting to worry ME now.”

“It’s about Alannah. And her home life.”

“About how badly it sucks?”

“Pretty much. I mean, you’ve seen it first hand. You’ve been in that home. You’ve talked to her parents. You know what they’re like.”

“If you mean emotionally absent and full of shit, yeah, I’ve seen it. Those people are fucked up, babe. I don’t know how you can have that much money and have nothing all at the same time. I don’t get it; how people can be that soulless and empty. And that's saying something when it comes from a guy that kills people for a living.”

“Normally this is where I give you a stern talking to about how that’s not all you do, but I’ll let it slide. For now. You’ve been in that home. A handful of times. You’ve talked to them. On the outside, everything looks great. They drive luxury cars, they wear designer clothes, her mother is practically dripping in expensive jewelry everytime I see her. I mean, they send her to a really expensive private school. They put on a pretty good show, you have to admit.”

“It’s what they want people to see. They want everyone to think everything is perfect. That they have a great life. Trust me, there’s nothing great about it. Not for the kid, anyway. And I grew up with someone with no soul or moral compass. That house? Worse vibes than the one I was raised in.”

“Which is saying a lot. You lived a shitty life. You’d recognize the warning signs. You were THAT kid.”

“So were you. You didn’t get your ass handed to you on a daily basis, but the mental stuff is just as bad. If not worse sometimes.”

“So we BOTH know how horrible it is. Growing up where we’re not wanted. And I know my mom always put on a big show for everyone. Acted like life was amazing and that she was the perfect mother. Behind closed doors? Mommy fucking dearest. Both of us deserved so much better growing up And so does Alannah.”

“I agree. She does. So where do we come into this? What’s Millie worried about?”

“It’s not just Millie that’s worried. I am too. I know how bad a crappy upbringing can fuck someone up. I’m a mess. And most of it leads right back to my mom. I’m the first to admit that I’m pretty fucked up. That I’ve got some long term issues I do battle with every day. Because of her. In the same way you have your own things; related to your dad.”

“Okay…”

“I don’t want that happening to her. I don’t want her turning into me. I don’t want her ending up with a guy like Mark because she has zero self worth and doesn’t think she deserves better. I don’t want her being forty years old and married to a second guy -an amazing guy, for the record- and completely unable to fully appreciate him because of some shit experience. I don’t want her turning out like this. I don’t want her spending her life hating herself and thinking she’s garbage because that’s all she was told she was. I don’t want some other guy ending up like you; loving someone so wholly and completely yet having to right another man’s wrong. That’s not fair. To you. Or to whatever guy she ends up with.”

“Babe, you…”

“Don’t try and deny it, okay. Don’t try and play it down. I know what I’m like. I know how bad I can get. You’ve spent the last twelve years having to prove you’re not him. And that isn’t fair. And I’m sorry. For ever making you feel like you’re not good enough or that you’re somehow like him. Because you’re not. You are so far from being anything like him. I’ve never meant to hurt you. And if I knew how to stop being this way…”

“Esme…” He lays a hand on the back of her neck and lifts his head to kiss her. “...stop. I love you. I get it. Why you are the way you are. In the same way you get why I’m the way I am. And you know what? We’re both fucked up. But somehow it works. WE work.”

“I just don’t want Alannah ending up like this. She’s still so young. There’s time to stop it. Before it happens.”

“How? You’re not her mother. What are you going to do? Go over there and over advice? Teach some parenting classes? Because that will go over REALLY well.”

“I’m hardly the person who should be teaching parenting classes. I’m not exactly perfect myself.”

“Your kids think you are. I think you are.”

“You think the sun shines out of my ass and that I poop glitter and fart rainbows. You’re hardly a good judge. But…” she leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. “...I love you for always wanting to stroke my ego. For always looking at me like butterflies fly out of my butt.”

“Your ass is nice, but it’s not THAT nice. And this stuff with Alannah. What can we do about it? She already spends more time here than at her own place. What more do you want?”

“Well she obviously likes being here. You’ve seen her at her own house. She doesn’t smile, she barely talks, hardly eats. Doesn’t even make eye contact with people. It’s like she’s nothing but a shell. And then she comes here and she’s completely different. She’s smiling and she’s laughing and she’s so loveable and sweet. And helpful. She’s a good kid. A good kid that deserves so much better.”

“You’re still not telling me what you think we can do about it. And we’re not moving here, so don’t even bring that up. We’ve talked about that. Numerous times. This isn’t the place for us. Not on a permanent basis:”

“I know. And to be honest, I wouldn’t want to live here full time. I love where we are. It’s private and it’s quiet and it’s beautiful. That’s home. No other place can even come close to that. It’s nice to visit here, but living? Definitely not a good idea. Especially for you. And Tanner. You guys need the quiet and the calm.”

“So what DO you want to do? You say you want to help the kid. How do we help her?”

“Millie brought something up. An idea. And it’s not totally horrible.”

“And that is…”

“She asked if we can bring Alannah back with us. To Australia.”

“As in permanently or…?”

“Temporarily. I think. For now. I don’t know; we didn’t really get that deep into it. She suggested it and I told her that I’d talk to you. So, here I am. Talking to you.”

“We can’t just take the kid. We can’t just toss her on a plane and take her home with us. There’s this thing called kidnapping, in case you didn’t realize.”

“And I told Millie that. That we can’t just take her with us. She DOES have a family. A shitty one, but a family nonetheless. We’d have to go through a lot of steps. Just like we did with Ovi. That was a lot of work. Getting everything in order so he could go with us to Colorado. I mean, we were in Mumbai for a month while the lawyers figured everything out.”

“It was a lot of red tape. And Australia’s a lot more strict than the States. About who they let in. And we’d have to get her signed up for school. She can’t just hang around the house. We both work and the kid has to learn. It’s not like we’d just be bringing her for an extended vacation.”

“But it CAN be done. I mean, I was allowed to stay in Australia.”

“Yeah, because we were getting married and we were having a baby. Two perfectly good reasons to let you stay. We bring some random kid home with us…”

“We’d have to call the lawyer. He’d be able to advise us. On how to handle everything. He’d probably be able to handle all the paperwork. And we’re not talking about adopting her. We became Ovi’s legal guardians. That’s a whole other ballgame. We’d just be taking her on an adventure. Let her experience something new. Give her a real family. People that love her and siblings to play with and drive her crazy.”

“And then what? We just send her back home a few months? Just ship her right back to the bullshit here? That makes NO sense.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I just thought for the time being, we could help her out. Give her time away from her shitty life. And if in the end she really loves it and wants to stay, then we think about guardianship.”

“You’re talking about taking on another kid. That’ll make eight.”

“Two days ago, you wanted me to get my tubes patched up so we could have an eighth,” Esme points out.

“Yeah, one of our own. A baby. That we make. Together. Not someone else’s kid.”

“But that isn’t going to happen. We agreed on this. After the twins. That seven was enough.”

“But you’re okay with taking on Alannah? Just not with having our own baby.”

“I can’t do it again. I just can’t. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But I am babied out. And this is a kid that needs our help. You're always the first person that WANTS to help everyone.”

“Usually when I’m helping people, I’m getting sent somewhere to kill someone. Not taking in their kids.”

“I will admit, it’s not a fool proof plan. Or much of a plan at all. And I do have my own concerns.”

He reaches out and pushes a hand through her hair; allowing the dark tresses to slip between his fingers and then looping strands over her ears. “Which are?”

“I worry about us. Me and you. Our plates are full. We have seven kids we’re raising. And we’re doing a damn good job, you have to admit. We make a really good team.”

“Yeah, we do. We always have. Right from day one.”

“But we’re also taking time to nurture us. Our relationship. That’s important. How many times has it been drilled into us? At therapy? That we need to step away sometimes and make the effort to connect and stay close and keep our bond the way it is. We’ve had to work on that. A lot. We’ve both had to step up to make sure we didn’t fall apart. To make sure we remember that we’re not just two people raising kids together. And I don’t want to lose that. Those moments with you.”

“I don’t want to lose that either. It’s a big deal to me. You know that. Keeping things together. Keeping US together.”

“And you’ve been amazing. At putting in the time and the effort. And it’s gone so well. We are so much stronger than we were five years ago. By A LOT. You know how cheesy it would always sound? When you’d hear people talking about loving someone more and more every day? I thought it was so stupid. That there was no way that was true. And in these last five years? I’ve realized how wrong I was. Because I DO love you more every day. And I’m scared something will come along and wreck that.”

“But? I know there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

“But I can’t help but worry that we’re letting Alannah down. That we’re just leaving her to suffer and grow up to be just as messed up as us. We have a chance to help her. And I don’t think my conscience will let me just walk away and leave her here. Not without at least trying to help.”

Tyler nods slowly as he considers her words; absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair around his index finger.

“You don’t think I’m selfish do you? That I want to help? Even thought I’m scared of fucking us up?”

“Actually, I think you’re selfless. Not selfish. If you’re willing to risk something to help this kid....”

“I don’t want to risk anything. That’s the problem. I want to help, but I don't want to jeopardize us. That’s the last thing I want. Because we have come so far and we are so much better now and we’re so much stronger. I do not want this to be a case of a hundred steps forward and a thousand steps back.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures her. “I won’t let that happen. We just keep doing things the way we are. We make each other a priority. Like we've been doing for five years now. Taking on Alannah is not going to change that. If she was a baby or a toddler we were bringing aboard, I’d say no way in hell. Because that would be a lot of work and yeah, things would fuck up. Between us.”

“So what can we do? To help her. You want to, right? Help her?”

“I do. But…”

“I KNEW that was coming.”

“...it’s not just as easy as taking her back with us. I wish it was. But it is NOT that simple. And you know that. From the experience with Ovi.”

“I do. I DO know that. And I told Millie as much. That we had to jump through a lot of hoops to be able to bring him with us to Colorado.”

“And I don’t mind putting in the work and calling the lawyer and putting this out there to him. But it’s only going to work if her parents are on board. And honestly, I don’t know how the fuck we’d go about that. Talking to them.”

“You talked to Mahajan. About Ovi. You went to the prison in Mumbai and spoke to him.”

“That was an entirely different situation. He knew he couldn’t provide a proper home for his kid. He knew he couldn’t keep him safe. He didn’t really have a choice, and he knew that. But I can’t just go walking into Alannah’s house and tell her parents I want to take her to Australia. I can’t just say ‘you’re shit parents, give me your kid’. They’ll tell me to fuck off and most likely call the cops.”

“I guess that wouldn’t be the perfect way to approach the subject. But we could. Talk to them. Rationally. And calmly.”

“And they could turn around and tell us both fuck off and then forbid their kid from coming over here. Which means we break Alannah’s heart AND our daughter’s.”

Sighing heavily, Esme places her forehead against his chest and groans dramatically. “Why does this have to be so hard?”

“We need to figure out how to approach this. Without stirring up the hornet’s nest. And we can’t just make a decision like this overnight. We need time to talk about this. REALLY talk about it. Because this is a huge deal. This isn’t just bringing the kid for a vacation.”

“But we will? Talk more about it?”

“Can we get past Christmas first? Because I would really like to get through this holiday with what’s left of my sanity somewhat intact.”

“Maybe after New Years Eve. Then we can sit down and really talk it out. Pros and cons. The whole nine yards. We don’t need to rush into this. There’s a lot of time before we head back home. And if we DO decide to take her and her parents agree, we’ll need to give the lawyer some time to work on getting past the red tape.”

“I’m not promising anything, Me. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I want to do this and I think we should. I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. But I WILL think about it. And talk about.”

“That’s all I want,” she says, and presses a kiss to his cheek and then the corner of his mouth before placing her head upon his chest.

“You know…” he runs a palm down the length of her hair, then rests it on the small of her back. “...I don’t know what kind of hoodoo voodoo black magic you got going on, but I seem to get talked into the most fucked up shit.”

Laughing, she places her chin on his chest and looks up at him. “It’s the eyes. They get you every time.”

“And the ass. And the things you let me do to it.”

“We are NOT having that particular conversation. That’s just a no from me. We can go there, but we don’t need to discuss it. And speaking of going places, today’s the day.”

“Your little shopping trip with Desi. You ARE going to spoil yourself, yeah? No buying anything for me or the kids. We don’t need shit. This is all about you. So go crazy. Buy a whole fucking store if you want. I do NOT care.”

“Any requests? Something you’d like me to buy? Something you’d like to see me in?”

“Not really. I prefer you out of clothes, not actually IN them. But maybe something sexy?”

“Sexy as in a dress to wear for a night on the town or…?”

“Sexy as in only for my eyes to see.”

She grins. “You mean bedroom sexy.”

“Exactly.”

“I thought you didn’t care about the packaging? I thought you only cared about what’s underneath?”

“I don’t usually care. But, I do have plans. For New Years Eve. After Ovi’s wedding.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “What kind of plans?”

“It’s a surprise. But I think something sexy would fit right in.”

“Is it mommy and daddy ONLY plans?”

“Yes. Just us. No kids anywhere near us. No interruptions.”

“You want to have wild and crazy sex all night. The kind of wild and crazy sex that we can’t have with kids in the noise. The noisy kind of wild and crazy sex.”

“That would be nice, yeah. I would love to have some wild and crazy noisy sexy with my wife.”

“In that case…” she slides further up the couch and pushes a hand through his hair, speaking between soft pecks that she places on his hips. “...I will buy something very, very, VERY sexy. Just for you.”

“You spoil me.”

“You deserve it. You’re a good man, Tyler Rake. You’re a keeper.”

“And speaking of spoiling…” Curling an arm around her waist, he unceremoniously dumps her onto the mounds of bunched up pillows and comforters and then sits back on his heels. A grin playing at the corners of his mouth as his palms travel along the backs of her calves; fingertips grazing against the skin of her inner thighs before applying gentle pressure in silent encouragement for her to open them. “...it’s my turn.”

[oh-obrien]

Brother’s Best Friend

Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,214

Warnings: Underage Drinking, uhhh making out

Author’s Note: Hey y’all I’m very excited to post this one. Sorry it took longer than expected because mono is currently kicking my ass!

Emerson finished brushing her hair out after she had showered, grateful to have washed off the layer of sweat that had built up on her body after her afternoon run. She set her brush down before turning sideways so she could see herself better in the mirror. She sighed and pulled the legs of her Nike Pros down a little bit more before flattening out the waistband so it sat right under her bellybutton. She huffed before pulling on a long sleeve ‘Texas Softball’ shit and tucking the extra into her shorts. 

Jake, Emerson’s older brother, had insisted that Dylan said it tonight would just be a casual get together, she should be fine. She looked over her outfit once more before pulling on her fuzzy socks and grabbing her phone before she flicked off the guest bathroom light. She picked her water bottle up off the dresser in the guest bathroom as she passed before making her way downstairs. She heard music coming from the speakers in the kitchen and knew that’s where she would find her brother and his best friend.

She rounded the corner into the large kitchen and saw Jake slipping something into the oven while Dylan dug in the fridge for something. She watched the muscles in his shoulders ripple as he reached up to the top shelf to grab a glass bottle of minced garlic. His hair still slightly damp from his own post-run shower. Oh fuck here we go, she thought to herself. “What can I help with?” Emerson asked leaning on the counter. 

Dylan turned around and Emerson had to force herself to not look down at his abs before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, obviously thinking. “Umm, Jake is finishing the mac and cheese bites, he needs to bake them and I just need to finish the mini garlic knots, if you wanted to help with that.” He set the glass bottle down on the counter before grabbing the melted butter out of the microwave. 

“Sounds good,” Emerson nodded, looking at the center counter that had already been filled with plates of finger foods. “You two didn’t want to just cater this?” She asked the two boys. 

Jake stood up after slipping the mac and cheese bites into the oven. “We don’t usually cater this kind of thing, whoever is hosting usually cooks. Everyone brings drinks over and we just kind of vibe.” He shrugged. 

“Sounds fun,” Emerson watched as Dylan mixed the garlic butter and handed her a brush that looked almost like a paint brush. 

“Just brush the garlic butter over them while I pull some stuff out of the oven and we should be just about done after that,” he stretched his back out. Emerson tried to focus on the mini dough balls in front of her so she wouldn’t have to look at Dylan. “Jake said you were fine being around the alcohol, but I just wanted to make sure you didn’t care?” He asked her.

Emerson mentally rolled her eyes before nodding. Sometimes she forgot she was still four years younger than Jake and most of his friends, and she also forgot that she wasn’t of legal drinking age yet. “Yeah it’s fine with me, as long as you don’t care if I snag a couple drinks,” she tried to sound casual about it. 

She didn’t want to be the ‘best friend's little sister’ anymore. She had turned eighteen, which was still four years younger than Jake and Dylan, but she wasn’t a little kid anymore. “Damn Jake,” Dylan looked to his roommate, “didn’t tell me she drank, and she’s not even twenty-one.” He fake gasped and covered his mouth with his hand, his mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“And I bet I can hold my alcohol better than you can O’Brien,” Emerson rolled her eyes while she picked up the tray of mini garlic knots. “Can one of you idiots open the oven for me?” Dylan nodded and grabbed the oven handle, slowly pulling it open and stepping back so Emerson could slide the pan in. 

After she slid the pan in she turned away from Dylan, who bent over to close the oven. She found him attractive, she wouldn’t be a creep who would stare at him and oogle him the six entire six weeks she would be staying with him and her brother in Los Angeles. Emerson had just graduated high school and had wanted to spend her summer before college, and her last summer when she wouldn’t be completely tied down by D1 athletics, somewhere other than her hometown.

Jake had offered for Emerson to fly out to California to stay with Dylan and himself for the six weeks before she needed to move into her dorm. Jake had moved to California four summers earlier to play college baseball at UCLA and upon graduating he signed with the Los Angeles Dodgers. With Dylan no longer living with his co-stars from Teen Wolf, and with Jake also needing to get more of a permanent place out in Los Angeles, the childhood friends decided that they could share a large Bachelor Pad in the city. 

Emerson had grown up with the boys and knew their energy had often been unhinged and hard to control, so when she pulled up to the boy’s home and walked in to see it nearly spotless, except for a few pairs of shoes strewn about the entrance way, she had been shocked to say the least. She had also forgotten the crush she had on Dylan years ago, and with never having had a relationship, she would be pining after him again, much to her misfortune. 

Dylan had greeted her in the living room with bed-head and a pair of gray sweats hung low on his hips. He had a five o’clock shadow and had clearly just woken up when he offered her a warm hug. He mumbled something about how much she had grown up since he’d last seen her before wandering into the kitchen to make his morning coffee. Emerson had also noticed how much more Dylan had grown up, he now had a six pack, accompanied by a dark happy trail and was now clearly able to actually grow facial hair, something he complained about not being able to do when he had been younger. 

Sighing, Emerson pushed herself up on to the kitchen counter and watched as her brother took inventory of what alcohol they had in the fridge and cabinets. “Tyler said he would bring other stuff right?” Jake asked closing the bottom drawer of the fridge after pulling out two beers. “You still drink hard lemonade right?” He turned to Emerson.

“Yeah T-Pose is bringing a bunch of shit. Holland is bringing wine I think,” Dylan fake gagged. “Also hard lemonade?” He asked Emerson. She shrugged as her brother handed her a can, opening the pop tab on top and taking a sip before speaking.

“I’m a craft beer snob, as all my high school friends called it,” she set her can next to her on the counter. “We have the summer house out on the east end, Long Island is basically the craft beer capital.” Emerson had gotten used to drinking all the expensive craft beers her junior and senior year when her parents would let her and her friends use the east end house. Now she wasn’t able to drink any of the big brand names because they tasted absolutely disgusting in her opinion.  

Dylan leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, defining the muscles in his arms more and his abs peeing out from underneath. “That summer house was always a blast man,” he looked over to Jake. “I miss that kind of shit.”

“I miss it too man, trust me,” Jake took a long sip of his drink. “We’re out here now though, it’s still pretty fun, it’s like high school again but this time we can buy the drinks ourselves.” Jake laughed, pulling the last of the food out of the oven and setting it on the counter.

“That part I can drink to,” Dylan tilted his beer towards Jake before taking a long sip of it. Emerson let herself watch as the golden liquid drained from the bottle and also noticed how  Dylan’s adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He pulled his phone out of the pockets of his sweats and set his bottle down, quickly replying to a message before slipping it into his pocket again. “I’m going to throw on real pants and a shirt, Tyler will be here in a few minutes so if there’s a knock it’s him.”

Emerson watched as Dylan walked out of the room, his feet dragging on the tiled floor while he rounded the corner to exit the kitchen and his footsteps being heard while he made his way up the stairs. “You’re back on this trend?” Jake asked when his little sister looked back over to him. 

“I guess so,” she lifted up her glasses to run a hand over her face. “Fucking sucks,” she mumbled. Of course Emerson had tried to date in high school, she had been one of the top ranked softball players in the state, there had been a period of time where guys were basically tripping over their own feet to have a chance with her. 

“That football player you went to prom with didn’t work out?” He asked his little sister, leaning on the counter opposite her. Emerson forgot she hadn’t really been able to update her older brother on her life much since she had seen him at his graduation nearly a month earlier. Sure, they texted and called each other from time to time, but Jake had been extremely busy now that he had officially signed into the major leagues. 

Emerson took a sip of her hard lemonade to distract herself before drumming on the can with her fingers. “No,” she shrugged, “he got back with his ex that night actually.” She watched as Jake’s gaze softened. Emerson had really liked Alex, she had a crush on him since sophomore year, and when he had asked her to prom at her senior night game, it had been a dream come true. However, the night of prom Alex decided to go to the prom house his ex had been invited too instead of the house on the shore Emerson and her other friends had rented. Looking back Emerson now felt more than happy she didn’t remember a majority of that night, as awful as that sounds.

“Well,” Jake let out a long breath, “can’t believe I’m about to say this. Dylan’s a good guy, he’s single too,” Jake laughed at himself, not believing that he just told his little sister he felt perfectly fine with her being interested in his best friend and roommate. “He’s been looking around but nothing’s worked out. I can’t say I’d be unhappy if you two happened.” Giving her brother a confused glance Emerson didn’t respond for a couple minutes. Trying to think of an answer that would be okay to give her older brother. 

She slid her glasses back on and pointed to Jake, “so you're telling me,” she pointed to herself, “that you would be perfectly okay with me getting with your childhood best friend and roommate? Sounds kind of convoluted if you want my opinion.” She paused when she heard a knock on the door. “But I’m not complaining!” She called after her brother.

“Not complaining about what?”Dylan asked, as he walked back into the kitchen. He had changed into a pair of dark jeans and a Mets t-shirt. Emerson quickly whipped her head around before trying to think of a witty response.

“About how bad you smell,” she shrugged before watching her brother walk into the kitchen, another guy around his and Dylan’s age trailing in behind him, both boys carrying a twelve pack of beer. “More shit beer? Jesus Jake, did you learn nothing living at home for the first eighteen years of your life?” She saw the other guy, Tyler, look at her with slight shock. “Sorry if that offended you, just want to offend my brother.”

Tyler set his case down on the counter, laughing. “She’s cool, she can stay,” he told Jake and Dylan. “I’m Tyler,” he held his hand out for Emerson to shake. 

“Emerson,” she shook his hand from her place on the counter. After their short introduction, Tyler walked over to the fridge to grab a cold beer and helped put the other two cases away to chill. Emerson watched the three boys move around each other while they pulled out plates, shot glasses and kitchen utensils from different drawers and cabinets, clearly having done it before. 

Dylan paused to steal a mozzarella stick off the plate on the counter, “did you know when the other hooligans are coming?” He asked around his mouthful of food. 

“Uhh, the girls said in the group chat they were coming together around six and I’m sure Hoechlin will be here a little earlier,” Tyler replied. “Sprayberry and Cody will probably be a little late, like they usually are. You fill her in?” Tyler nodded to Emerson.

Dylan looked at Emerson who just shrugged before he nodded, “she knew my castmates were coming over.” He leaned on to the counter next to where Emerson sat and picked up her lemonade, taking a sip before she could grab it from him. “That’s actually not bad. When Jake picked them up the other day I had been kind of confused at first.”

Emerson pulled her sleeve down to wipe at the lip of the can before she took another drink. “Confused as to why he was getting hard lemonade or confused as to why he was getting me hard lemonade?” She asked with a slight quirk in her lips. “Because it is my go to if I’m being honest.”

Dylan grabbed the can out of her hand and took another sip, letting the alcoholic lemonade sit in his mouth a little longer this time, “I could actually really get behind this.” He held it up to his lips again and Emerson hit his shoulder trying to get him to give it back. “You’re not legal, it’s mine now,” he held it closer. 

“Jake!” Emerson yelled her brother’s name, pulling him out of the conversation he had been in the middle of with Tyler. “Make him give it back!” Jake looked down to where Dylan had her drink in his hand and waved his little sister off. 

Tyler laughed watching Emerson glare between her brother and Dylan, “they always like this?” He asked eyeing the two who were arguing over the can still. “Because you know what I’m about to say right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Jake took a long sip of his beer. “They’ve always been like this with each other, and she’s into him which makes it even worse.” He watched as Emerson gave up and pushed herself off the counter, walking over to the counter island to grab a mac and cheese bite.

Tyler watched Dyaln’s eyes follow Emerson as she moved around the kitchen, refilling her water bottle instead of grabbing a drink. “I mean, I know him pretty well too man,” Tyler grabbed one of the mini garlic knots and dunked it into the bowl of marinara sauce. “He seems at least a little bit interested in her himself. Might just be the age thing he has to get over.”

Emerson had just finished filling up her water bottle when she heard another knock on the door, knowing more of Dylan and Tyler’s friends had arrived. “I got it!” Dylan set the empty hard lemonade can down on the counter while he went to answer the door. 

“Wanna help move some if this?” Jake asked Emerson who watched as he and Tyler picked up plates of food. She nodded and grabbed two plates of the finger foods and followed the two boys outside on to the covered patio. “We’ll usually chill out here,” he added. 

Trailing behind the pair as she walked back inside, she saw Dylan in the kitchen laughing with three other girls and felt her heart sink a little bit. His eyes crinkled at the corners while he spoke and the girls around him were also laughing as they set wine and desserts down on the counter. “Emmy!” Dylan called out to Emerson.

“I- fuck,” she sighed walking over ot him, “I hate that I let you call me that,” she glared at him before looking at the three girls. “Hi, I’m Emerson. He’s called me Emmy since I’ve been like twom don’t mind him,” she gave them a smile.

The redhead stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, “I’m Holland and this is Shelly and Arden. You’re Jake’s younger sister right?” She double checked. Emerson nodded as she hugged the other two. 

“And you’ve known Dylan for how long?” Arden asked. 

Emerson laughed in the back of her throat, “since before I was born. Him and my brother have been friends since they were three. Dylan actually came to the baby shower my mom had for me and him and my brother dropped the cake,” she smirked at Dylan who had started to turn red. 

“Wait, I didn’t know that one,” Tyler interrupted as he also greeted the three girls. “Is that true?” He asked Dylan who just nodded in reaction, letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in when he heard another knock on the door. 

He walked past Emerson and bumped into her shoulder when he passed, “brat,” he mumbled so only she could hear it. 

“Asshole,” she replied at the same volume and snorted when she saw Dylan flip her off behind his back while he walked to the entryway. She suddenly realized how many people were staring to fill up the kitchen and swallowed the spit that had been sitting in her mouth for far too long. “I’m going to go outside for a few minutes,” she told Jake who asked if she felt okay by just raising his eyebrows. “You know how I get,” she grabbed her water bottle before slipping out into the backyard. 

She felt lucky to be in the position she currently found herself in, but sometimes too many new people too fast got her overwhelmed. She’d always been that way though. She sat down on one of the patio chairs and watched the water in the pool ripple from the filter running, picking at her cuticles that were already torn up. A few minutes later the door opened and she felt someone sit on the chair next to her. 

“You still get like this sometimes?” Dylan asked her, moving his chair a little closer to her now that she knew it had been him who came outside. 

Emerson shrugged, “it happens, happened at all my college visits, happened at states, it’s normal.” She spoke the truth, her anxiety got to be a bit much sometimes and she knew when she needed to pull away for a few minutes. 

“Yeah it happens,” Dylan pulled her right hand away from where she had been picking at the cuticles on her left, “doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t check on you.” Emerson went to speak but he cut her off, “and yes Jake told me you went out for a minute but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Emerson bumped her shoulder into Dylan’s before she nodded, “all good now,” she stood up and nodded towards the house. “You have some more people to introduce me to.” Dylan smiled as he stood up, running  a hand through his messy hair.

“The rest just got here,” he followed Emerson into the house and she felt her brother and Tyler’s eyes on them. So much for telling Jake she still had a crush on Dylan, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. 

Another hard lemonade that Dylan had stolen half of later, Emerson found herself outside sitting in a circle next to the fire pit in between Dylan and Shelly, who she had quickly gravitated towards. Most of the food Dylan and Jake made had been eaten and only a few desserts were left on the large glass table, but what had been left out would probably be gone within a couple of hours anyway. 

She had listened as Dylan and his castmates shared stories about set and filming and her brother seemed to fit right into the group. When asked about herself and her relationship with Dylan and her brother, Emerson had a few funny stories of her own to share that had Jake and Dylan groaning and red cheeked. “So,” Tyler Posey sat up a little straighter after the conversation had started to fade. “Anyone up for a little game, straight face, thumper?”

“Never have I ever?” Cody suggested and it had been met with a few hums and nods in agreement. “See I have good ideas sometimes,” Cody laughed, setting his beer down in front of himself.  Emerson shifted uncomfortably once she knew they would be playing never have I ever. It’s the one drinking game she hated playing. If she knew it would  be played at a party in high school she would often excuse herself for the game to go get fresh air or another drink. 

Emerson stood up and Dylan gave her a confused look, setting his bottle of beer down. “I’m just going to grab my water bottle and some Motrin, still a little jet lagged.” She told him. “Everyone can start without me.” She addressed the whole group.

“You’re good?” Jake just wanted to make sure his sister felt okay, but he had been flirting with one of Dylan’s castmates all night and she didn’t want to stomp on any chances he had, unsure if it h.ad been an ongoing thing or not. Emerson nodded and waved him off while she wandered inside, flicking on the kitchen light while she tried to find her water bottle. 

She unscrewed the top and filled it with ice before opening the fridge and grabbing the pitcher of filtered water, pouring it into her bottle. She left it open on the counter while she went to find the motrin in her backpack, opening up the orange bag she found the bottle and dumped two pills into her hand. She hoped to push off the migrange she felt coming on until the morning so she could at least sleep.

Walking back down stairs, shaking the two pills in her hand, she noticed Dylan dumping leftover food into the garbage can and filling up a recycling bag with bottles and cans. “Need help?” She asked before slipping the pills into her mouth and taking a sip of her water before closing it. 

“I actually just came to see what was up with you, figured I could clean up while I waited,” he shrugged, putting a few plates in the sink. “You got out of there pretty quick.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter while Emerson slid up into the spot she had been sitting on earlier. “Your dad used to yell at you for that when you were younger.” Dylan pointed out.

Emerson reached up to run her fingers across the scar that sat on the bridge of her nose. “Then I fell off and cracked my face up,” she dropped her hand, “I think he just assumed I had learned my lesson after that.”

Dylan grimaced at the memory of her falling off the counter, he had been over for a superbowl party when that happened. “Clearly didn’t,” he laughed a little bit, “why’d you need to come inside though? Ran off a little fast just to grab a drink and motrin, and thought you said earlier you were amazing at drinking games.” 

“Okay, first off you know I get migraines,” she reminded him. “Second I like drinking games,” she emphasized the word game. “Never have I ever isn’t much of a drinking game, not really a fan.” She shrugged wishing she could curl up in a ball and disappear. She wasn’t about to spew her lack of experience in life out to Dylan, of all people. 

Dylan uncrossed his arms and braced them on the counter behind him, “okay but it’s still fun to learn about all the embarrassing and sometimes slightly illegal things your friends have done,” he knew he was currently pushing the issue. He knew how to push the issue to hear what he wanted to from Emerson, he’d been doing it for years now.

“You see, this is where it gets hard to follow Dylan,” she pointed at him motioning for him not to speak for a few minutes. “It’s not fun when you haven’t done anything normal let alone embarrassing or slightly illegal. So you just sit there twiddling your thumbs the entire time because you lack zero life experience except being related to an MLB player and you’re really good at softball,” she let out a long breath before looking down at the water bottle that sat between her legs. “So no it’s not fun,” she mumbled before looking up.

She watched as Dylan chewed on his bottom lip, probably deciding what to say while he watched her nervously fiddle with her water bottle. “Is it that you just haven’t found anyone to do that kind of thing with?” He asked her. Emerson let her legs uncross and swung them in front of herself, making a thumping noise each time they hit into the cabinet under her. 

“Umm,” she hesitated for a minute. What would he be expecting her to tell him? She currently had feelings for him? The one guy she had actually been interested in during high school got back with his ex the night he took Emerson to prom? “I mean, there had been one guy I was interested in, but he wound up getting back with his ex the night of prom.” She tried to shrug it off. 

“And there’s no one else you’re interested in?” Why did he keep pushing so hard? What would be the outcome if he eventually coaxed it out of her? 

Emerson took a moment to run through all the possible answers to the question in her head. She could just tell him, she was interested in someone, but then he would definitely continue to push the issue. “I mean, yeah there’s people I’d be interested in, but it’s unrealistic to pursue if I’m being honest.” She cleared her throat after and watched as Dylan pushed himself off the counter, moving closer to Emerson. He stopped when he stood in front of her, his knees almost brushing hers. 

Emerson looked up and noticed his five-o’clock shadow that she wanted to reach out and brush her fingers over. She wanted to know what it would feel like if she cupped his cheek in her and. What it would feel like if she kissed him. She also wanted to know what his lips would feel like on hers, if they would be soft or slightly chapped. She had kissed boys before, but none of the kisses she had turned out to be ‘good’. Dylan was older than her, more experienced, he would most likely know what to do, he’d easily be able to guide her. 

“Well,” his eyes flickered down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. His warm eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort or uneasiness, “I also know there’s people I’m interested in, but I wasn’t sure what the consequences would be if I pursued said feelings.” He moved even closer to Emerson, her legs moving so he could stand between them. 

Her breath hitched in her throat when she noticed that she could feel Dylan’s body heat radiating off of him, he felt very warm, and very close. “At- at least it’s not unrealistic,” she told him, never breaking eye contact. 

He lifted a hand to rest under her chin and his thumb ran across her bottom lip. Emerson sat stunned, she felt paralyzed, Dylan felt too close to her and he was touching her in what she classified as a very intimate way. “You tell me if this is unrealistic,” he lifted Emerson’s mouth even closer to his and she felt his breath fan across her lips, she could smell the alcohol on his breath but the sweetness of the lemonade element overpowered it. He was sober. She was sober. It was fine to kiss him. 

“I don’t think it is,” she quietly replied. 

Dylan swiped his tongue over his lips and they pulled into a slight smile. “Can I- can I kiss you?” He asked before swallowing thickly. Emerson responded by pushing up and slotting her lips against his, a long breath releasing from her nose as she finally felt slightly relaxed for the first time that night. Their lips seemed to move together much smoother than any kiss she had before, and it didn’t feel messy or rushed. 

After a few seconds Emerson pulled away to breath and Dylan rested his forehead against hers, a breathy laugh falling past his lips while they both smiled. “I cannot believe I just did that,” Emerson mumbled before laughing herself, her forehead falling to Dylan’s shoulder as they both tried to laugh any awkwardness out. 

“It wasn’t bad though right?” Dylan asked and Emerson could feel him smiling against her shoulder. “Because there’s no pressure but I’d really like to take you upstairs for a little while and try that again.”

Emerson’s eyes widened at Dylan’s words and she picked her head up, waiting for him to do the same before she spoke. “You’re serious?” She asked with slight unbelief in her voice, “because the answer is that felt fucking amazing and the answer is yes,” she had to be dreaming right now, she really had to be. Dylan pushed away from the counter and held a hand out for Emerson to take. “Thank you,” she gripped it as she slid off the counter and her feet planted on the tile floor of the kitchen. 

“My pleasure,” Dylan gave her a purposely terrible wink as he dragged her towards the staircase by her hand. Emerson followed him up the stairs, trying not to trip while they both laughed like little kids  who were trying not to get caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. Once reaching Dylan’s room he pulled Emerson inside and closed the door before pressing her against it, chest to chest, his hands on either side of her head. 

The pair caught their breath and just watched each other for a few moments, taking the situation in before Dylan dipped down and pressed his lips to Emerson’s. His hands came up to rest on his shoulders, one of his slipping down to grip her waist and pull her tighter against him. “Wait,” Emerson pulled away, “everyone’s gonna wonder where we went,” she breathed out.

“So,” Dylan pulled her away from the door and pushed her onto his bed, her letting out an ‘oof’ when her back hit the mattress. “Let them wonder,” he shrugged, crawling above her. Emerson reached up to wind her arms around his neck, her fingers running through the hair at the base of his neck. “Because I am very happy right here,” with that he leaned down to kiss Emerson again.

Emerson closed her eyes and tried to melt into the feeling of kissing Dylan. She felt as if she was on cloud nine, kissing the boy she had a crush on for well over half her life, and she didn’t want to let it slip away too fast. She took a breath through her nose when she felt Dylan’s teeth pull on her bottom lip and she pulled away from the kiss way too fast, his teeth catching on her lip as she jerked away. “I’m sorry!” She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. “I just didn’t - I wasn’t,” bhe she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say. 

“You haven’t gone that far before and you weren’t sure what to expect?” Dylan asked her as they both sat up, her legs swinging over the side of his bed. Emerson nodded and bit down on her bottom lip, not wanting to actually admit she had as little experience as she actually did. “And that is perfectly fine,” Dylan rested a hand on her thigh and started to rub circles into her skin. “I don’t see that as a problem,”

Emerson turned to face him, “and it’s fine and dandy you don’t see it as a problem, but I do! It’s embarrassing Dylan! I’m starting college and don’t even know how to properly kiss a boy when all my friends were having sex their sophmore or junior year!” She felt herself wanting to crawl under the bed more and more with every word she spoke but Dylan sat back against his head bored and pulled her with his so she straddled his lap. 

“I mean, we’re here now right?” He slipped his hands under her shirt and ran his thumbs along her hip bone sending goosebumps around her entire body. “And if you trust me enough to take the lead I can show you how this whole kissing thing works,” he pinched her side making her laugh and grab his hand, “it can be quite nice when you actually relax.” He gave her a sideways smirk.

“I-” Emerson paused, “okay, yeah. I trust you.” She nodded her head and relaxed in Dylan’s hold, waiting for him to make the first move.

He reached down to pull off her glasses and folded them closed, placing them on his nightstand. “Well first off, it’ll be a lot more comfortable without these in the way,” he smiled and leaned forward to peck her lips before he got a firmer grip on her hips and flipped her over so she again found herself underneath him.

He braced himself on his forearms above her, his stomach pressed against hers, “now just let your lips follow mine, ‘kay?” He leaned down to attach his lips to Emerson’s. 

She closed her eyes and found her left hand gripping the front of Dylan’s shirt, the right reaching around to settle in the soft hair at the back of his head. She felt his lips moving against her’s and tried to copy his movements unsure of what else to do. Dylan smiled against her lips when he picked up what she had been trying to do and decided to run his tongue against her bottom lip and gauge her reaction for where to go next. When Emerson didn’t pull away Dylan decided he could probably go a little further and allowed himself to pull away to take a breath.

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard about using tongue to kiss,” he laughed lightly when Emerson scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve heard about high school boys who don’t know how to do it right,” he told her. “I told you I’m showing you how real guys kiss, not high school scum.”

Emerson took a deep breath before she leaned forward to reconnect their lips, her teeth pulling lightly on Dylan’s bottom lip this time. “Then stop talking and show me.” She mumbled. Dylan felt a groan bubbling in the back of his throat and swallowed it, instead opting to lean forward and run his tongue over her bottom lip before he even attached their lips. 

Emerson’s mouth had opened slightly against his and took it as his opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, he felt her tense slightly but then she quickly relaxed. He wrapped his tongue around hers and pulled it slightly into his own mouth before pulling away, dragging her bottom lip between his teeth as he did. He kissed the corner of her slightly swollen lips, and rested his forehead against hers. He felt himself start to grow uncomfortable in his jeans but pushed the feeling away, this needed to be about him making Emerson comfortable, not about him getting off. 

“Damn,” Emerson laughed as she felt Dylan’s slightly heavier breathing fan across her lips. “You’re pretty good at this.” She let her hand that had been gripping the front of his shirt slip underneath it, running up and down his abs. 

Dylan shivered before offering her a smile back, “not too bad yourself,” he threw her another terrible wink. “Gets even better though,” he added, “could show you that too if you were still up for it.” Emerson nodded when she heard everyone outside still laughing and talking slighter louder than they needed too, their voices drifting through Dylan’s cracked window. 

“I mean, sounds pretty good to me,” she hummed, “I just feel bad, I’m not like doing anything for you.” She watched as Dylan’s gaze softened. 

He reached up to cup her jaw with his left hand, just his right hand holding him up now. “Trust me,” he leaned down to peck her lips, “this is more than enough for me.” Dylan moved his hand down so it gripped her chin and turned her head slightly to the right, exposing the left side of her neck to him. Emerson swallowed thickly when she felt his lips attach to the left corner of her lips, he started trailing kisses up to where her jaw met her neck and let his teeth scrape gently across the area, his tongue running across it after. 

He continued the trail of kisses down her neck again until his lips reached her pulse point. He felt Emerson stiffen in his arms and knew he found exactly what he has been looking for. He started sucking on the spot lightly and felt Emerson’s grip on his hair tightern slightly. After a few seconds he bit down lightly on the skin and he heard a small noise slip past her lips that sent her pulling away from him. 

“I’m so-” but he cut her off.

“That’s natural don’t be sorry and let me finish what I started, and don’t make yourself stay quiet. I find it quite hot when I know I’m making a girl feel good,” he mumbled and attached his lips to the same spot again, intending to leave a very nice hickey there. 

Emerson laid plaint in Dylan’s hold and tried to let herself fully enjoy the feeling of his lips against her neck. She hoped he wasn't lying when he said he liked hearing that he made girls feel good because she let a quiet moan slip past her lips when he bit down on the area again. He continued to suck a little harder on the area and soothed it with his tongue every few seconds. 

Dylan continued his actions until he knew there would be a bruise forming on the area and pulled away to admire his work. A dark bruise was in fact starting to form exactly where he wanted it to and he leaned down to run his tongue across it a final time before he kissed his way back up to Emerson’s lips. 

She felt more comfortable this time and decided maybe she could try and take more of a lead, not wanting to leave Dylan high and dry. She pulled on the hem of Dylan’s shirt while they kissed and he pulled away to pull the fabric over his head, dropping it on the floor next to his bed. Emerson let herself admire his body for a moment before she spoke, “can I try?” she asked quietly.

Dylan let himself let out a quiet groan at her question before nodding. He gripped her hips again and flipped them over so she straddled his lap, her ass resting right above his growing ‘problem’. Emerson leaned forward to kiss his lips before she ran her tongue under his bottom lip, slowly and slightly unsure. Dylan parted his lips and allowed her to move her tongue into his mouth, tangling with his for a moment before she pulled away.

“Just like this?” She asked as she grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side. Dylan gave a hum in approval and closed his eyes when he felt Emerson attach her lips to his neck. Her left hand splayed out over his abs while her right shakily held his chin still. 

She remembered one of her friends saying something about her boyfriend loving it when she pulled on his earlobe with her teeth while they were making out and decided it was worth a shot if it could possibly impress Dylan. She allowed her lips to trail up his neck until they were right under Dylan’s lips and felt him shiver when she planted a kiss there. Closing her eyes and hoping for thr best she pulled on his earloble lightly with her teeth and heard Dylan let out a breathy ‘fuck’. 

Happy with herself Emerson trailed her lips down his neck again until they met his adams apple. She bit down lightly on the skin before she began sucking on it, trying to mimic the actions he had done on her neck a few minutes earlier. She soothed her tongue over the skin after a little while and felt Dylan’s grip on her hips tighten as he let out a louder groan this time. “Damn you learn fast,” he mumbled as Emerson sucked on his skin again before pulling lightly on it with her teeth. She left a gentle kiss on the area before sitting up, admiring the dark mar forming on his skin. 

“Thanks,” she smiled leaning down to peck his lips. “I had a great teacher,” it was her turn to offer Dylan a wink. She laid her head down on his chest and his arms came to wrap around her, hugging her against him. “We should probably go downstairs and see what everyone’s doing,” she said after noticing it had fallen quiet outside now.

Dylan laughed and it shook her entire body, “yeah sporting matching hickeys and swollen lips,” he replied. “But I think you’re right.” He unwrapped his arms from Emerson and pulled her down into one final, lingering kiss before she sat up fully. She grabbed her glasses off the nightstand and slid them on straight.

“Here,” she bent down to hand him his shirt, “might want to put that back on,” she shrugged as she wandered out of his room and to the staircase. 

Dylan rushed to pull the shirt over his head as he followed Emerson down the stairs, “hope you know you’re staying in my room tonight!” He told her while she grabbed her water bottle.

“Yeah,” Emerson took a sip, “and you might want to put your shirt on right side out before you go outside,” she patted his chest while she walked past, pulling the sliding glass door open and stepping outside. Leaving Dylan in the middle of the kitchen, red faced while he turned his shirt right side out.

[storytellerssanctum]

Petals & Thorns - chapter 8/?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x oc

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k

SONG OF THE CHAPTER - see you again • tyler, the creator

Weeks passed, and although they had their share of sneaky visits and longing glances, nobody had a clue about the relationship Fred Weasley and Adalinda Malfoy were blossoming. This included her brother and her boyfriend. Fred had also found a way to hide it from his partner in crime, George. Though Addy held a guilt about her secret love with the forbidden boy, it dissipated greatly as Adrian's actions grew angrier and more harsh towards her. Now, when he walked in the room, she cowered. When his temper got too bad, he usually took it out on her. He was loose with his tongue, rough when he touched her, and no more loving than her father had been to her when she was young.

The snow was beginning to stick to the ground as they walked to Hogsmeade. November was drawing to a close, and Christmas and the Yule Ball were fast approaching. Adalinda was surrounded by her group of daunting boys. They followed her closely as she walked, noticing the distance between her and Adrian. None of them dared to bring it up. The whole school seemed to be on their way to the village. The group of six stuck close to the front, eager to have some excitement in their lives. Addy had changed into boots, retiring her statement shoes for the winter. She pulled her jacket closer to her body as she walked, trying to keep out the cold winter air.

As the heart of the small cluster of buildings came into view, they picked up their pace. Soon, the entrance of the village was littered with students. Adalinda made her way to The Three Broomsticks, smiling at the thought of her favourite place. The warm whoosh of air hit them strong in the face as they entered. It was a relief to be out of the harsh cold that nature had become. Each of the six retired into the seats of a booth after ordering a butterbeer. They made mindless chatter as they sipped on their glasses, enjoying their break from the castle. In a couple booths before them, Addy noticed Fred Weasley sitting with his brother and Lee Jordan. He gave her a barely noticeable smile when he caught her eyes.

Time passed, and the crowd around the Slytherin girl diminished. It was left with her and Adrian. They barely spoke to each other, only looking at each other when they accidentally caught eyes. The liquid in the girls cup was dwindling as the day went forward. "So," the boy before her started. She looked to him. "I wanted to know if you would like to go to the Yule Ball with me?" He asked, slowly. His gaze burned into her. She let her hands dance over the handle of the mug.

"Yeah, I'd love to." A small smile pressed her lips. He returned it. He leaned over and kissed her, but it didn't last long.

"I'm gonna go check out Honeydukes, did you want to come?" He asked. She stayed silent as her stare drifted behind him and back to the ginger. She didn't look for long, in fear of being caught.

"No, I think I'll stay here. Maybe have another butterbeer before I have to go back." She told him. He gave a slight nod, unsure if she was being truthful. "I have to go to Dervish and Bangs after, and then stop to pick up something for Draco for Christmas. Don't bother waiting around for me, I'll probably be a while." She said as he stood.

"Are you sure? I don't mind." She gave him a nod. "Addy?" He asked again, harder. He wanted a verbal answer.

"I'm sure, I'll see you back at the castle." Guilt had become her, knowing why she truly didn't want him to stay. He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, making cold run through her veins.

"Okay, see you later, then." He walked off and out of the pub. She waited a few minutes as she overheard the twins from afar.

"I have to go shopping for Christmas, I better get that done." Fred told his brother.

"Brilliant, I'll come." George said.

"You can't, you git. I have to get something for you, too." George eyed him wearily.

"Right, well, Lee and I will leave you too it, then." George spoke as him and his friend made an exit. When both of their booths sat empty, they finally met each other's faces. They gave a nod to each other, and Adalinda removed herself from her seat. She walked out the doors, checking to see if any of her friends were around to see her. When she believed she was in the clear, she headed around the corner of the building and eventually behind it. Minutes later, Fred followed her path. He was also cautious of someone seeing him.

When he caught her standing there, waiting, he pulled her into a hug. She let her head rest on his chest as she wrapped her arms around the boy before her. She felt less disgusted at her actions and more comforted. In the few weeks they had been seeing each other, Fred had shown her what it was like to be truly happy. He placed a kiss to her forehead as they parted, leaving a darker tinge of rose on her already red cheeks. "I've missed you." He said, looking down at her. He was over a head taller than the girl before him.

"Me, too." She sighed, snaking her hand up to his neck. She pulled him down to meet her mouth which he accepted with ease. They moved together in time, allowing themselves to enjoy the moment they were spending together. They didn't know when they'd get another. Their noses touched as they drew away. "I have to go to the ball with Adrian." She stated. A twang of jealousy erupted into Fred's chest, but he knew.

"I understand."

"You better find someone, too. It'll make this seem even less plausible." She wanted to kiss him again, but she knew the conversation was far more important. "And I can't have you staring at me all night. I'll be trying not to look at you, either."

"Angelina?" He asked, running a thumb over her cheek. He wanted to make sure she was okay with whoever he took.

"Yeah," she grinned. "But you'll be meeting me in the room of requirement after." She reminded.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." They shared another tender kiss, losing themselves in each other. Adalinda's fear shrunk the more days that passed. They were good at hiding their feelings. Despite infatuation in their eyes when they saw one another, nobody noticed it. Nobody was even suspicious of them. It may have been the complete illogical idea of a Malfoy dating a blood-traitor. "How'd you get him away from you?"

"I told him I was going to shop for Draco." She snorted. "As if he'd want to come along for that. Everybody hates Draco." He had to laugh.

"I did the same, Christmas is a good excuse." He smiled. Her eyes rested gently over his face.  "I wish we didn't have to make excuses."

"Me, too, Freddie." She placed a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe when school is finished we won't have to hide it." She cringed at the mention. That was a long time away.

"Yeah? You think this'll last that long?" He had a smirk toying on his face. She could only laugh. As she did so, she thought back. When she got on the Hogwarts Express in September, she never expected to see herself stealing kisses from a Weasley boy. A blood-traitor, of all people. She scowled at the internal thought, hating her automatic use of the word. Still, as much as she didn't care about the differences in purity, the names were imbedded in her brain.

"I haven't felt anything like this before. I hope it lasts that long." She replied, letting her hands fall into his soft, red hair. "I don't want to let this feeling go." She could almost feel her fathers wrath as she did so. She closed her eyes as he pulled her into another embrace. "It's so different feeling safe when someone touches me." She muttered. Fred paused, waiting for her to continue.

"What do you mean?" She stayed silent. "He doesn't hit you, does he?"

"No, he's never really hit me. He's just a little rough with me sometimes." She answered, regretting bringing the topic up.

"I'll hex him! I'll knock him into next week if he lays a hand on you." Fred promised, taking her small hands in his. She watched as he laced their fingers, feeling comfort at the action. It was much nicer than how Adrian held them. You could tell Fred held emotion in the actions.

"Oh yeah? That wouldn't look suspicious or anything." She let a giggle fall from her lips. Fred swooned at the sound, feeling his heart beating against his rib cage. "You hexing my boyfriend would go over well."

"It might teach him a lesson." His lips fell to her forehead and held her captive. She melted into his touch. As she did, she felt more humane and grounded than she ever felt before. Still, she was nervous at the thought of being caught. If they were, all hell would break loose. She would be punished and it would put Fred in danger; she was too smitten to even think about the consequences.

"You don't have to teach him a lesson, Fred. I can get my groupies to do that for me." She joked.

"You have quite a lot of them, you know. Should I be jealous?" He joked, swiping a piece of loose hair from her face. She shook her head after he tucked it neatly behind her ear. "Or maybe I should feel honoured that you picked me."

"That's more like it." She looked up into his eyes and bit down on her lip. The whole situation felt like a dream to her. She was so infatuated with him, and she couldn't get him out of her head. "Kiss me again." He obeyed, pulling her in once again. "I wish it could last forever."

"We have the rest of our lives." Even at his attempt at consolation, she didn't believe this was true. With the dark times soon to arrive, she didn't know how much time they'd have together. With The Dark Lord's impending resurrection, her father would do whatever it took to keep her in line. He sighed at the look of uncertainty in her face. "When will I get to see you again?" She took in his face. The rosiness of his cheeks and the dirty cinnamon colour of his eyes. Cupid had stuck her hard with him. It seemed like yesterday they didn't speak, and now they were hiding, sharing kisses and their deepest feelings.

"In potions class." She knew what he meant, but she couldn't give him a good answer. In truth, she didn't know how many more excuses she could come up with to get her away from her friends.

"That's not what I meant."

"I don't know, Fred. I'm trying my best."

"I know you are, it's just hard when I want to spend every day with you." The cheeky smile gave way.

"Awfully forward, aren't you?" She replied, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Only when it comes to you."

"I have to go soon," she said solemnly. "I don't want to, but I have to." He gave a nod.

"Go get your Christmas shopping done. I'll be the one staring at you from an aisle over." He teased, pulling her into one last quick peck. The four kisses they shared behind the tattered old building seemed like nothing. They were gone as soon as they began, making them both crave for more. When they weren't allowed to be together, it made the romantic part so much more appealing.

"I'll see you soon." She promised, grabbing his hand and giving it a final squeeze.

"Until then." He squeezed it back. She gave a sad smile as she turned and walked back around the corner of the building, gazing for staring eyes. When she found nobody was paying attention to her, she emerged back into the street, disappearing into Honeydukes to buy her brother a Christmas gift.

Tags: @play-morezeppelin

[empty-dream]

Just watched 13 Reasons Why S4

Ended up making a full blown commentary per episode because this is finally the last season and I’ve been enjoying this mess since S1. I even forgot that it was released until a friend brought it up to me. So in short,

Ep1

OKAY WHO DIES AGAIN HUH??

Clay, narrating: *I'm good at hiding shits so my parents don't notice at all." His parents: *concernedly looking at him pale and mushing food on the dining table*

The concequences of investigating murder cases and creating conspiracies instead of studying your ass off because it's a damn school really caught up huh.

Charlie holy shit I love you he's so chill and good.

It's been years I still can't believe Justin is really adopted by the Jensens. Funny that now the table is reversed, with Justin finally actually doing better and taking care of the increasingly-ill Clay.

SCOTT!! OH MY GOD! SCOTT REED!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIIITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAA!!!

Wow my headcanon is approved, he already graduated by S3. No reason he didn't hang out with the gang after all the shits in S2 if he was no longer around in the first place.

He's still so nice even in Clay's trippy nightmare. Is that what Clay remembers about him? Well not really surprising, considering Scott actually was worried about him in S2.

Good god finally Clay meets a therapist- Wait a minute that's the guy from CSI:NY?!?! Isn't Clay just gonna get clobbered instead.

Okay I knew they are really close and I do adore their relationship so much but HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY GO AT IT WITH ALEX AND ZACH???

Alex: *panicking over the kiss* Zach: Ayy don't worry let's just continue perhaps-suicidally hanging out on dangerous rooftops that you were almost fall to your death from. Alex: ????

Ep2

That narration of Clay ranting about college applications. I'll drink to that bruh.

Ya I too make my applications and other supposedly important matters at 3AM instead of any other more sensible time.

Oh my fucking god that is the creepiest smile I've ever see.

I feel like as Justin gets better and better with his life, Clay goes worse.

Justin is so excited about going to college! You deserve the future man. 

The old-time stoners and drunkards are rehabbed or dead. Enter Zach.

Winston: *eyes and ears up to your shit 24/7*

Nobody likes Tyler in S1 but now everybody likes him.

Okay. Cops doing shit jobs at protecting. This feels too real with this situation right now.

Clay's adventure to put the trash into the trash bin.

Omg they got the paint to the lab this is going real CSI.

Idk about u but at this point I don't exactly want to pay attention to Jessica/Justin problems anymore.

I know Zach and Clay don't get along and that's why I need their adventure together.

Clay drunk-puking on Justin. Well well well how the turntables.

The return of Monet!!

"I have 2.8. If I work hard, I'll get 2.9" Winston omg same.

Tht held gaze between Alex and Winston.. Is this slow burn fanfiction???????

Yes Mr. CSI it will definitely get worse.

I know writing about your feelings can make you feel better but probably not in your college essay form.

Ep3

I'm starting to think Clay is the one who dies in the end? Idk tho.

I guess the toll of busting ass trying to save everyone by yourself is catastrophically high, huh, Clay? Funny that he now goes from 100 in S3 to 0 in here and that's actually realistic.

Alex and Winston are really pining each other with Zach in the background lmao.

"You don't wanna go on the Valentine Dance with me? Even as friends?" Well sometimes there are moments when you just don't go back to being friends. It's an actual normal thing.

And besides the last time Alex goes with Jess for something she wanna do, he ends up murdering somebody. So.

"Hey Zach. Hey punch me. Hey you pussy now? Hey hey. Bitch." *poke* *poke* *poke*

No Zach he's trying to save all of your asses. You can't just say that.

Charlie is really just there trying to do his best in this shitshow and like Justin I wanna laugh but also am proud.

Everyone: *being paranoid and unto each other* Alex and Winston: *having the date of their life*

I wish everyone doesn't have this level of trust issues but then again we won't have a shitstorm drama like this.

When did this become "what is love?" philosophy class?

"You know love but you love so fiercely and sometimes it hurts."Wow Mr. CSI you hit the mark.

How many parties can the Liberty High hold in a year?

"You go with Charlie to get back to Justin, right?" Wow Diego you HIT the mark.

I still have problems with Ani as a character, but I do like her casual banters with Clay.

You know, with all these trust issues, I'm surprised nobody actually tries to peek on other's phone. Like, I know that's low. But, you know, faster solution. And better than having mass hallucinations.

Oh God the football team really is a bunch of jerks. Good fucking thing Scott is outta here.

Alex and Winston almost die like couples in a cheap slasher movie.

"Fuck Love." Clay Jensen, 2019 (according to the movie timeline)

Ep4

Why is Charlie talking? Why is he wearing the football jersey? Who on earth dies?? Is it Zach? Justin? Somebody else from the football team? But the content of your speech man...

Ah yeah. Clay did survive a great big deal of many ugly shits. Single-handedly thanks to adrenaline, mostly.

Jess got a point tho. Ani could have followed Clay to stop him, by herself or with the gang. What did she do? She spied on Winston and Alex, and then went back to the dance. So much for handling anything themselves.

Or maybe, the gang shouldn't have let Ani and Clay take care of it themselves.

Does anybody in this show ever figure out Clay has dead people hallucinations?

Domestic Jensen family is my everything.

Charlie really out there bribing Zach with his homemade cookies I-

Ah yeah, I kinda forgot that in reality Alex and Winston have a really difficult situation. With Bryce and Monty stuff.

"Looking back on your time at Liberty, do you have any regrets?" Really? Isn't that all they have?

"Who do you trust most in your life and why?" Everybody: *immediately side-eyeing each other*

Clay c'mon wtf Justin is really just worried sick and trying to help you. Aaand he's gone.

Jess you don't put your hands into something without checking it first...

Why would you only send 2 adults to supervise 30-50 kids on a camping wildlife trip? They wouldn't be able to do shit.

"I thought you were a football player!" "I AM a football player! And so are YOU!" Gold.

Dream!Monty and Dream!Clay really sit like that and I almost laugh were it not for the fact that I do that too. It's strange to see that for once, they talk normally, heart-to-heart, without the usual snickering, chiding, all that venom.

Oh shit they really make Monty and Clay mirror each other like that. They both protect people they love but have tendencies to snap, one way or another.

Zach, dude, I know you've been a real good friend. But Alex almost died. Twice. Because of your drunken ways. And you laughed. Didn't you spend an entire season trying hard to not let him die again? What's wrong with you?

When did this become a horror movie?

The Standalls :((

CHARLIE MY MAN WITH HIS COOKIES. And incidentally, a wild Zach appears.

"So are we gonna fall apart or trust each other now!" Justin my man.

Clay dude that would have been an amazing entrance were it not for the fact you looked insane.

I can't fucking believe they just go normally at campfire like that. Two people almost died. Several got beaten. What the fuck.

Does it come from the bottom of your heart or it doubles as a threat, Clay?

Alex you had us at the first half not gonna lie.

GR A NO LA CA MP C O OKIES? ??

Wait. So who has been fucking around with the football team? Who moved Clay?? Huh??

Ep5

GUYS THERE IS A THING CALLED GPS ON THE PHONE?? What are you? 3?

Justin finally breaking down after 5 episodes being the most decent and healthy person around. Well Charlie is too but he's new, so.

Finally an obligatory meeting at Monet.

CYRUS AND THE PUNK GANG!!! God I love you guys where have you been. And you guys are computer geeks?!?!?! Perfect.

My question exactly, Clay. Good replies tho, Cy.

I'm still thinking how for a nerd, Clay knows A LOT of people and knows who to ask what.

"How am I even friends with you?" Ya Alex that's my question too. How are you suddenly bff with Zach? I don't remember you two being close in S1?

Hm. If you aren't holding his family at stake, there is no way Tony would even think to rat out.

Mr. CSI starts going CSI on Clay.

I almost forgot Charlie's last name is St. George. The cast goes by Charlie mostly so.

Justin really shows up at the party with the angry mom pose and disappointed look at Clay. The turntable, people. Flynn's voice got raspy.

Oh no no Clay you don't go there. Please don't split my Jensen-Foley brothers like that. Meanwhile the punk gang be like just watching there.

C O O KI E S??? Goddamn Charlie do you bring cookies everywhere you go??

Charlie my boy you T_T I was kinda suprised that the cookie baking actually had a sad backstory.

Clay-Zach bonding that I fucking wish for oh yeah. I definitely didn't expect it with piano and drunk singing tho.

While Clay is having the time of his life, Tony is seeing life flashes in his eyes.

Yassss he winssss!!!!

Caleb's expression when the sherrif hugs him lmfao

Nice try Sherrif but Tony knows your tricks.

"What of any of this is okay?" Wow things you'd never hear Justin says in S1.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Alex are high on weed cookies as fuck. Their conversation is the most interesting thing I've seen beside the Scott cameo till now.

The look on Justin's face when Clay pushes him :((

MY DUDES HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT JEFF'S DEATH? WHAT HE WAS ACCUSED FOR?! You do not, under any circumstances, drive drunk.

Ep6

Clay be spitting truth.

They really be discussing Clay's chronic hero syndrome huh.

Okay. Operation Clay-Zach failed.

Weren't Zach all fuck it all yeah! kinda guy? Guess when you are the one who faces death it's not that fun anymore huh.

"One Clay Jensen is enough" Jess truth.

Do Alex and Charlie really study Spanish in front of Tony who is not helping at all? That would be embarrassing lmao.

Clay: Fuck off. Hallucination!Monty: *sits next to him*

Gotta hand it to Timothy Granaderos. He could go venomous to puppy eyed in 1 second. Amazing.

Man. School shootings are fucked up. There are many things I wonder about mankind and one of them is why is school shooting even possible?

Hallucination!Bryce: Hi I’m sorry I’m late. I hear this is time for Clay’s dead people hallucination party.

"Are you a hero or a martyr?" Wow they really throw the question.

And here is Clay sitting under the desk between his two most hated dead people hallucinations whispering moral dilemmas to him.

Meanwhile Winston and Zach got high.

Charlie helping Alex to breath.

The talk with Estella and Tyler.

"No offense, you are cool, but I don't wanna die with you." Zach chill lmao.

Are.. Are you sure outing that to Winston is a good call, Zach? For a guy who was super paranoid that his gang would narc him, he sure is loose mouthed himself.

I like how everyone from Tyler to Zach to Winston, admits that Alex is a really kind guy.

Wow Tony did you really expect anyone could do anything in that situation, in fucking Evergreen situation, for that matter?

Charlie is a great friend wow.

Cl-CLAY DON'T GO OUT that is EXACTLY what you are NOT supposed to do!!!

Goddamnit Clay. Holy shit Clay. 

Dylan Minnette really worked hard in this scene.

.......... WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOW ACTUALLY CHARLIE ALEX????? Tony be just walking in.

Ep7

Clay really got into a psych ward. Talk about darkest hour. And it’s only ep 6?

Wow Ty that's some brave lines.

Which hallucination-induced person is Clay talking to before Ani gets there?

Ok that therapy session made me tear up.

These kids are having college interviews at the worst time possible. They are all fucking breaking down one way or another.

And Charlie just, really never gives up on Alex huh.

What's most important to Clay is his friends. Real quick to answer that question huh.

God Justin lashing out at the Jensens. It's the first time he does it and it hurts.

Zach holy fuck. I appreciate you didn't out it but holy fuck you didn't have to do that are you trying to die

Clay-Tony combo is back baby I miss them so much. Although perhaps Tony you would mind a bit about Clay's health because clearly he was out of it.

This is so short. I too really don't like application essays and interviews and the inevitable revisit of the sadder parts of my life because of them.

Ep8

When did this become sci-fi apocalyptic story?

God I miss the time when Clay's dreams are just Inception-styled trippy shit with Scott randomly says hello and gets him water.

Okay. Everyone's got their own way to cope with existential and moral crisis huh.

You know what, I would like one movie out of this sci-fi dream.

I knew it Tyler was a bait to smoke out illegal gun dealers. Is that... An okay thing to do for a high schooler? Sounds fucked up, all things considered.

Yaaay Justin's got the college! I'm super happy!

Wow Estella good question.

Wow Tyler good statement. If they trust each other a bit more, everything would have been a bit better.

Ah shit. Justin relapses again.

Does Tony need to be pummelled first before he finally goes all off to finish his opponent or what?

Is this going Big Brother Is Watching

What the fuck. That locker fight scene is disgusting.

Jess and Clay might throw shades at each other but together they share one brain cell.

"I think it's a walkout, Sir" Tyler lmao

Wow Zach and Alex heart-to-heart.

Cyrus really steps on some pedestal to make his point.

Aaand Zach and Alex really go all out on "doing it right" huh.

They really have students vs cops riot at this time. Talk about timing.

It's nice to see the punk gang enjoying the fighting again.

Dude what happens if you don't have anything on your bag tho.

Aaaah the punk gang with Tyler again!!

"Why are you with me and not with Charlie?" Zach ouch that hurts.

Zach no no no Zach get out of there too Zach pls

Clay really becomes 2nd in command to Jess huh.

Charlie tries to save Clay but gets whacked on the head instead. 

Tony you came back!! Oh so that college scout was.. Oh.

Oh shit Clay. Oh. Shit. I should have realized that. Goddamn.

Ep9

"I like sleep." Charlie me too. 

God Alex and Charlie literally sleep together jaldjwaownaljewoalsj that some cute shit.

Wow Clay really takes Mr. CSI's advice to round up the gang and confesses. That's a step.

Charlie sometimes has a good idea, huh.

The Jensens meeting is probably the reason why the idea of parenthood scares me.

Also Clay and Justin really put the practice of "tell the parents the less-harsh-but-still-harsh truth, then ask them to get prom back" by the book. And it's awkward.

Aww Charlie coming out to his dad and the response he gets... When you put the rich fams like Dempseys, Walkers and Saint Georges together, the last one is really the only healthy one huh.

Way to go Jess!

Ah I forgot Alex has an older brother.

Aaaahhh Charlie has dinner with the Standalls! Their reaction is so sweet!

"Does he make you happy?" "Yeah. A lot." AHDKWJWOAKDUWLAOEL I mean after everything that has happened to Alex, man I am so happy he can say that with a fond smile.

WHAT THE FUCK HAHAHAHHA CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT LMFAO I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST AN TRIPPY ANIMATED IMAGINATION THING and Alex is so done with his extra shit.

Wow Ani you do karaoke good, asking Jess out even better.

OH MY GOD IT ESCALATED. Also Alex is right that one is creepy Charlie.

I thought by special doughnut Caleb means some diet-related stuff fit to Tony's menu for fighting. Why didn't I expect a literal Will You Go To Prom doughnuts?

CHARLIE PLEASE STOP AHAHAHAHA you dumb rich kid where did you get all those lamps and prop candles.

"Would you love me any less?" Aww Clay knows Justin loves him.

"You three all look adorable" Ya Jess, same.

Tony really out there doing the "I'm here because he's here" to Caleb.

Clay, Alex, and Charlie be like judging Zach hard.

Oh right that one kid from Cyrus's gang is gay and he brought his boyfriend!

Zach: You two sitting here like it's a funeral. Also Zach: *proceeds to continue sitting as well*

"We deserve to live." Finally something from Zach's mouth that I can agree for this season.

I love that Tony and Caleb are such good friends to Clay.

And now it's Winston turn for dead people hallucination.

..... The door to the other side again.. :'''((

CHARLIE AND ALEX WON THE PROM KINGS AAAAAAHHHHHH I mean with all those extra efforts, it'd be hard to not to. And there goes Alex finally giving in to dance.

I don't like Luke the football guy when he's the enemy but I like him when he's a friend. He's a hype man lmao.

Alex I'm so happy for you man. I'm glad you are finally happy. My heart was tight at the dance part .

Everyone: *dances* Clay: *sits there, monologuing philosophically*

I like that Clay and Ani finally being honest that they don't fit each other romantically. As romance goes there is not much romantic tension between them. And they have way too many flawed traits that when paired, would turn the relationship sour and possibly toxic in the end.

Justin do u like to show up and make everyone step aside for you or what.

I like that Clay was just watching from a distance. Then at last minute decided to join the crowd with his mother, whom he had a few trust issues with in all seasons.

Charlie: "Foundry's gay?!" Alex: "Mind's blown" Me: Same.

There has been nothing wrong going on in one episode, aside from the Zach one that's timely stopped by Charlie and Alex. I'm suspicious.

Ah. Yes. Of course.

Oh my god Justin's the one dead huh?

Ep10

Oh thank God he hasn't died. Yet.

Oh God Justin no. No no no.

Get your shit together Zach. Even Charlie tells you that.

No no no not like this not after everything oh god.

Somebody would you actually please run after Clay too.

Oh my god Clay.

Oh my god Alex you. Even when he admits it to Winston, he still covers for Jess. I- oh god.

It's been only 15 minutes and it hurts.

Charlie and Alex, the moms of the group.

You know, for a guy who says he doesn't love Justin, Alex gives a lot of shit about him. I guess you can still be around people you don't like?

I know the kiss is huge news Charlie but that's not the issue here lmao.

Zach: *hugs Clay* Clay: ????? Alex and Charlie: ?????? Zach: *pats Tyler's head* *leans on Clay*

The Padillas :''')

Clay Jensen. Class speaker. Wow.

Yeah Mr. CSI's voice is really calm, rather chilling, actually.

"You've looked at death too many times for a young person." Damn right Mr. Jensen.

Ah so that's the reason why Zach stole that letter. Makes sense, emotionally.

You know, I did say Idc anymore about Justin/Jessica problems but when it gets to this point, I can't not care.

So many people come to the hospital...

Clay and Justin's talk. I'm sorry I can't hold it in anymore. I'm fucking sobbing at this moment.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead just like his mom. But he died not in the same way. He died holding his bro's hand. He died surrounded by his family. He died with people who loved him around.

"After everything, this is how it ends." Fucck

DID HE HAVE TO DIE??? DID JUSTIN FOLEY-JENSEN HAVE TO DIE?? Did you really have to put yet another sucker punch in the last episode of the season?? Yeah I know real kids and people do die from AIDS but really? After a whole season of Clay screaming kids wants to live to the point he lost his mind???

I spent the entire funeral screen crying. I couldn't even scream again when Scott is present in the funeral. I know he'd be there but god I can't right now.

Mr. CSI sure knows super effective ways to make Clay react.

"If Justin's dead, the none of the rest of it matters. " Clay..

He opens up.

Oh yeah I forgot Charlie is a junior.

AAAA COURTNEY AND RYAN ARE HERE!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!

SCOTTTTT!!!!!! And CHLOE TOO!! It’s nice that they come together. But they aren’t like, together, right? I mean if he is her boyfriend she would say his name right away to Zach instead of a mere ‘would you like to meet him? He’s outside.’

These 4 are such good friends to attend their friends’ graduation ceremony.

The punk guys in toga are so... Refreshing to look. Such hype men.

"It's easy to hate. It's easy to fear. It's goddamn hard to love. But it's not optional. It's essential." Jessica Davis, everybody.

Jeff, Hannah and Justin really died in the span of 2 years. Add to that is Bryce and Monty, whose deaths left uncountable traumas on top of existing traumas. Yeah. It was hellish time.

Scott’s proud small smile when Clay gives his speech. Im love.

"Choose to live. Even on the worst day, life is a pretty spectacular thing." Clay Jensen, everybody.

Ma boi Zach really teared up at Clay's speech. 

Luke and one of the punk kids talking about some geek thing I am not familiar with I-

“No offense Luke. You’ve got great arm but you haven’t been known for your brain.” PETER That BURNS LMAO

Poor Winston just being alone. OH HELLO RYAN YOU ARE FAST.

Zach is gonna study music! Nice foreshadowing since he plays a lot of music this season.

Clay having a gratitude moment with his parents and Scott be like munching cupcakes in the background.

Oh god Hannah ...

Wow the old tape gang is here!! The nostalgia hurts.

They bury the tapes on the same hill again asdfwosaiofai.

Kinda salty Sheri and Scott aren’t here. But then again I guess back then Scott was just helping Clay and co when he could and mostly minding his own business. HOWEVER isn’t Sheri like in the tape and pretty prominent too :(( Like she was really cool with Clay (despite the whole guilt over Jeff), tried to make amends and really helped with the polaroid cases.

Also you can't just insert Scott in Clay's dream and then not have them interact in the end. The dream was such a perfect bait. Like we know at least they apparently get along well.

Everything in Jessica’s final conversation with her Bryce hallucination. Everything in it.

Ryan: “Gordon Lightfoot?” Ha Ryan you miss a whole lot of drama.

Fuck I'm tearing up again at Justin's essay. He deadass makes an entire essay about Clay and how he is his savior I- 

Oh my god they end it exactly like S1 with Tony and Clay riding away. They are really each other’s ride or die.

That’s it. It’s over. It’s been a long trainwreck. So the 2019 class graduates, so does Justin, they are doing uni right now and keeping in touch with everyone. Bye.

[badchoicesposts]

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 17

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar), Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season. Some of the dialogue was taken directly from Book 1 of The Royal Romance but was changed a bit to fit my fic.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @indiacater, @alexintheskyy, @jared2612

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Catch Up: Masterlist

Ali smiled from her spot in the doorway as she took in the sight of Marshall twins cuddled up to Liam on the couch. Lily was sitting in his lap, fast asleep and drooling onto his shirt, while Tyler was resting against his arm, slowly falling in and out of consciousness. They had both begged to stay up a little longer than usual because it was a weekend, and Ali had obliged because she knew that this would happen. It was only ten minutes past their usual bedtime, and they were both almost completely knocked out. 

Both of the twins had taken a quick liking to Liam after meeting him that first day in the library. It was now an odd occurrence for Ali to babysit by herself. 

“I think it’s time to get these two into bed,” Ali whispered, walking over to them and taking Tyler into her arms. 

The four-year old protested very little before leaning into her embrace and resting his head on her shoulder. Liam smiled and stood up with Lily in his arms before following Ali to the twins’ bedroom. She placed the toddler down under the covers and placed a pillow on his left side, the way she knew he liked, and watched as Liam did the same for Lily. 

Ali made sure the small star-shaped night light was plugged in before grabbing Liam’s hand and leading him back to the living room of the Marshalls’ apartment. 

Liam pulled her down onto his lap, and Ali smiled against his lips as he kissed her gently. He pulled away from the kiss and looked into her eyes, running his fingers lazily through her curls. Ali could feel the love in his gaze and it made butterflies erupt in her stomach. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Liam opened his mouth to speak but hesitated and remained quiet. He moved his hand from her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pressed tightly to his chest. 

“Do you ever think about… about having kids?” he asked. 

Ali was startled for a minute, not having expected him to as her that question. 

“Yeah, I do. I’ve always loved kids, and I’ve always imagined myself having them. Not now, of course. But, when I’m older, and I’m done with school,” she said, gently tracing her finger across the stubble on his jaw. 

Liam’s face lit up, and he smiled widely.

“That’s great!” he said happily. 

“What’s with the baby talk all of a sudden?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I like seeing you with them,” he said, inclining his head towards the twins’ door. “And I’ve always wanted a big family,” he said quietly. 

“How big?”

“Maybe six or seven,” Liam said, smiling sheepishly. 

Ali shot up out of his arms. 

“SIX OR SEVEN!” she shrieked, her eyes basically popping out of her head. 

Liam laughed and pulled her back down against him. 

“We can talk about the amount later,” he said, a hint of a smile still on his face. 

“I am not pushing seven babies out of me, Liam. I’ll give you three at most,” she said.

“Shhh, we’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

Ali could tell that he was still smiling as he spoke.

~~~

Ali made eye contact with Drake across the apple orchard and quickly looked away. She had been avoiding him like the plague for the last forty-eight hours, determined not to discuss the results of her pregnancy test. If she told him, she would have to tell Liam, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. It’s not like she could go up to him and say that she was pregnant with everything going on. 

Ali walked over to where the other suitors were standing and was greeted by Lizzie and Hana. She made casual conversation with the two of them, and even though they could sense that something was wrong with her, they made no comment.

“Welcome to the annual Apple Blossom Festival!” Constantine spoke, standing near several wicker baskets filled with the famous Cordonian Rubies.

“As is tradition, myself and several ladies of the court will sample the apples of the first picking of the season,” Regina said from her spot next to him.

The apples were distributed to all of the suitors, and Ali quickly realized that she had never tried a Cordonian Ruby before. All she knew was that they had an intense flavor according to Bertrand. Regina gave them permission to try their apples, and several reporters moved in closer to catch their reactions. 

Ali took a bite of her apple and was forced to hold back a gag as a mix of bitter and sour tastes filled her mouth. She unwillingly swallowed the apple and placed a smile on her face for the cameras. 

“That was tasty,” she said, hoping that she sounded more natural than she felt saying it. “It definitely has character.” 

The reporters got a few last minute shots of the ladies and their apples before dispersing to get more pictures and to speak with other members of the court.

The air was filled with a sense of calmness as the Apple Blossom Festival began, and people made their way around the orchard, picking apples and laughing with those nearby. However, Ali felt more on edge than ever. She caught sight of Liam standing nearby, speaking to a member of the court she didn’t recognize, and she felt her stomach begin turning again.

“Are you and Liam fighting or something?” Maxwell asked, falling into step beside her. 

“What? No, why would you think that?” she asked.

“You seem strange,” he said. “And you look sad.”

“We’re not fighting. I’m just not really feeling like myself today,” she said. 

“Well, in that case,” Maxwell began, holding out his elbow for her. “Care for a stroll around the orchard? It might take your mind off of whatever’s bothering you.”

Ali smiled and took his arm. They walked along in silence for a moment, taking in the crowds of people around them and just enjoying the fresh air. Their walk was cut short, however, by Drake approaching them. 

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

Ali nodded, her hands beginning to sweat as she let go of Maxwell’s arm.

She knew there was no way she was getting out of this conversation now.

“I’ll be right back, Max,” she said. 

Ali followed Drake through the orchard and to a large white gazebo situated in a secluded part of the gardens of Applewood Manor. She caught sight of a noble lady discreetly elbowing her friend to bring her attention to the two of them walking together as they exited the orchard, but tried to calm the surge of anger she felt. She reminded herself that she had bigger things to worry about right now.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said simply, turning to face her.

“Yeah, I have,” Ali said quietly, looking down at her hands.

Lying to him now wouldn’t do her any good. She was going to have to tell him the truth eventually, and there was no point in putting it off any longer. 

“You can’t ask me to get you a pregnancy test and then pretend like it didn’t happen.”

Ali remained silent, and that was the only confirmation he needed.

“Damn, what are you going to do?” he asked.

Ali felt tears well up in her eyes again. She knew that Drake wasn’t trying to upset her, but she got more confused and scared every time she thought about her situation.

“I don’t know,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I’m scared, Drake.”

Drake sighed and moved closer to her. He looked hesitant for a moment, cautious of showing her any affection after their incident with the press, but then pulled her into a gentle hug. Ali rested her head on his shoulder and let a few more tears fall before pulling back.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” he said, in attempts to comfort her.

“I can’t have a baby! I’m still a baby!” she exclaimed hysterically.

“Eh, I think you’re more of an angsty teen than you are a baby,” he said with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood. 

She glared at him through swollen eyes and resisted the urge to knee him in the crotch. The smile on his face immediately disappeared at her murderous expression and he raised his arms in surrender. 

“Sorry,” he responded sheepishly. “Look, I know you’re scared, but everything’s going to be okay. You’re not alone in this.”

Ali nodded as tears continued to fall down her face. 

“You have to tell him,” he continued quietly. 

“I can’t. I don’t know how,” she said miserably.

“Ali-” Drake began trying to reason with her. 

“No! Liam just got done telling me that Constantine wants him to make me his mistress because he doesn’t think I can handle being queen. What do you think is going to happen when I tell him that we’re having a baby?”

“You can’t keep it from him,” Drake said insistently. 

“I know. I’m just not ready to tell him yet. I need some time to figure all of this out myself first.”

“Fine, but you have to do it soon. I may not be the only one who knows about this,” he said. 

Ali’s body immediately went into panic mode.

“What do you mean?” 

“Bastien’s been keeping close tabs on that gossip blog ever since they ran that article about the two of us. He got a tip off from an inside man that someone was trying to sell pictures of you to them again,” he said, in a low voice. 

Drake pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her a picture of her throwing up in the grass after the Regatta with Liam holding her hair back. 

“I was just seasick after the Regatta,” she said, feeling slightly more reassured. 

“No, you had morning sickness,” he said, swiping right onto his phone screen. 

Ali felt her stomach do a somersault as she looked at the new picture. Drake was standing in line at a drugstore, several pregnancy tests clutched tightly in his hands. The picture was taken from far away and was slightly grainy, but there was no denying what was happening in it. 

“Our guess is that they planned on running a story saying that you were pregnant with my baby and make it out to seem that we were both playing Liam,” he said.

“What do we do?” she asked, holding back tears for the third time in the last five minutes.

“For right now it’s taken care of. Bastien bought back the photos, so they can’t run the story. But, you need to tell Liam about the baby, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to figure out who’s been trying to spread rumors about you,” Drake said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder when he noticed how sick she looked.

“Do you think it was the same person both times?” she asked.

“Probably. Either way I think it’s safe to assume that whoever is doing this wants to hurt you, so that makes finding out who it is even more important.”

She took a few deep breaths to calm her increasing nerves when a thought occurred to her. Her head snapped up, and she looked back over to Drake, a wide smile on her face and happy for a distraction. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Drake asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. 

“I can’t believe I forgot. Today’s your birthday!”

Drake groaned and awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. 

“It’s okay. I think we have more important things to worry about.”

“Look, like I said. I can’t tell Liam today, and we’re not going to figure out who’s doing all of this in one afternoon. You might as well have a good time,” she said. 

“A good time? No, no good time is going to be had. Wait, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice sounding panicked as he watched her pull her phone out of her bra. 

“Group text,” she said, pulling up the message chain she had going with Maxwell and Lizzie.

She shot them a text asking them to round up Liam, Hana, Ben, and Charlie if he was available and to meet them under the gazebo. 

“What? No! Don’t do that,” he said, looking over her shoulder to see what she was typing. 

“Too late,” she responded with a triumphant smile. 

They waited a few moments in silence with Drake glaring daggers at her before they saw the others approaching. 

“What’s going on?” Maxwell asked. 

“It’s Drake’s birthday!” Ali responded happily.

“It’s Drake’s birthday?” Maxwell exclaimed, looking over at him excitedly. 

“You didn’t know?” Ali asked.

“Drake’s never told me,” Maxwell said, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Haven’t you guys known each other since you were kids?” she asked 

“That doesn’t mean he needs to know,” Drake said. 

“Isn’t your birthday something you tell your friends about?” she questioned, her eyebrows raised in amusement.

“We’re not friends,” Drake said, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Okay, but you’re kind of friends,” Ali teased.

“No, we aren’t,” Drake scowled. 

“Face it, Drake. You have friends,” she said, gesturing to the people surrounding them. 

“We need to celebrate!” Lizzie said, practically bouncing up and down in place.

“There’s an American Western-themed bar I’ve been wanting to try out,” Maxwell said. 

“Western-themed bar?” Hana asked.

“Yeah. Cowboy boots, mechanical bull riding, that kind of thing,” Maxwell answered. 

“I’m in,” Lizzie said, and everyone else nodded in agreement. 

“Onward!” Maxwell called, jumping down the steps of the gazebo. 

“I texted Charlie the details, he said he’ll meet us at the bar when his shift is over,” Lizzie explained, following after Maxwell.

Drake was grumbling under his breath as they made their way out of the gardens, but it was obvious that he wasn’t too upset.

After a short drive, they arrived at a bar that had been decorated to match every western stereotype Ali had ever heard. The walls were made out of wood panelling and were decorated with several bull skulls, the bartender was wearing a cowboy hat with a red and white plaid shirt, and there was a large pit in the middle of the room where people were attempting to ride a mechanical bull. 

“The party has arrived!” Maxwell said, “Yeehaw!”

He turned around and gave Lizzie a high five, before they ran off with Ben and Hana to find a table. 

“This is definitely going to be a night to remember,” Drake said, taking a look around the place. 

“Okay, first order of business is to get the birthday boy a drink. C’mon, Li,” Ali said, starting off towards the bar. 

“Please, don’t call me ‘the birthday boy’,” Drake called after her. 

Ali and Liam shared a devious smile.

“I make no promises,” she said over her shoulder.

After grabbing the drinks, Ali walked back to the table where Maxwell was trying to do what sounded like a bad southern accent, while Liam wandered off to find a bathroom. 

“How many times has he said ‘yeehaw’ since we left?” Ali asked, handing Drake his whiskey and taking a seat next to Ben.

“About seven,” Ben said.

The two of them choked back their laughter, while Maxwell continued his impression which was somehow becoming more Scottish the longer he carried on with it. Ali looked over to Drake from where he was seated across from her and smiled mischievously. 

“Hey, birthday boy, say it,” she said, taking a sip of her virgin cocktail. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he groaned. “And say what?”

“You know what,” she said, a smirk plastered on her face. 

Drake scowled and narrowed his eyes at her. 

“No.”

“You have to do it at least once while we’re here.”

“Yeah, Drake! Say it!” Maxwell piped up. 

Drake turned to glare at him, but the other man just shrugged his shoulders, the smile never leaving his face.

“Yeehaw,” Drake said in a monotone voice, rolling his eyes as the group erupted in cheers.

“I hate you people,” he groaned. 

“You love us. Don’t deny it,” Lizzie said, throwing her arm around his shoulders playfully. 

“Okay, my friend, the mechanical bull is all yours,” Liam said as he approached the table. 

“I thought you were in the bathroom,” Ali questioned. 

“I was, but I made a quick stop on my way back to the table. You’re up, Drake!”

“Me? No way!” Drake said, surprised.

“Oh, my god. You have to!” Lizzie said happily, bouncing up and down in her seat. 

“Drake! Drake! Drake!” Maxwell began chanting. 

“Why are we saying Drake’s name?” Charlie asked, walking up to their table.

“We’re trying to get him to ride the mechanical bull,” Hana explained, greeting him with a smile.

“Drake! Drake! Drake!” he began chanting as well, warranting an eye roll from the guest of honor.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll do it. Just quiet down,” he said, getting up and downing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. 

The group watched from the table as Drake slung his leg over the mechanical bull. Ali wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but she definitely didn’t expect to see Drake keep perfect balance. The bull began to buck faster, but Drake kept a firm hold onto it, swivelling his hips in perfect time with it, and her jaw dropped as Lizzie and Maxwell began to cheer loudly for him.

Drake was thrown off the bull a few seconds later, but he returned to the table smiling happily. 

“You don’t have to look so surprised, you know,” he said, causing Ali to realize that she hadn’t closed her mouth yet. 

“How do you know how to do that?” she asked, still taken aback. 

Drake just shrugged and turned away from her as the band began to play a new song. 

“This is where I get to show off all of my moves,” Maxwell said, already starting to dance in his seat. “C’mon, we should hit the dancefloor.”

He grabbed both Hana and Lizzie by the arm and pulled them out with him. 

Ben and Charlie broke off from the group to get another drink, leaving Liam, Drake, and Ali alone at the table. Liam took Ben’s vacated seat and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer into his side. She relaxed into his body, glad that she was able to be close to him in public for once. 

“Don’t you want to go dance?” she asked Drake, pointing over to where Maxwell was doing the sprinkler and Hana was awkwardly trying to imitate him. 

“Dancing isn't really my thing. Especially that kind of dancing,” he responded as Maxwell began doing the robot. 

“I think it’s about to become your thing,” Liam said, as Lizzie and Maxwell came back to the table and each grabbed one of Drake’s arms.

Ali and Liam watched as Lizzie tried to get Drake to dance for several minutes, before he finally gave in and started nodding his head to the music.

“Oh, my god!” Ali laughed, as a crowd began to form around Maxwell who was break dancing in the middle of the dance floor. 

Charlie was mirroring his movements in what looked to be a dance battle.

“I can’t believe Maxwell actually knows how to breakdance,” she said in shock.

“I can’t believe Charlie does either,” Liam responded.

Everyone finally returned to the table, Maxwell completely covered in sweat, as the last song of the night was coming to a close. 

“So, what did you think, Hana?” Ali asked, as they made their way back out into the cool air. 

“This was scary, but a fun kind of scary,” she said, smiling. 

Ali could hear Maxwell talking about going out another time as she fell back away from the group so that she could walk alongside Drake. 

“Liam said that you never really celebrate your birthday, so I’m sorry if this was weird for you.”

“Actually, tonight’s been… really fun,” Drake said, a small smile on his face. “Different that expected, but still fun.”

“I’m glad it was. Maybe you should have told everyone about your birthday sooner,” she said playfully. 

“Don’t push it.” 

“Happy birthday, Drake.”

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Happy Birthday Baz Pitch!

Can’t Find My Way Home--Fic and Art

I decided I wanted to do something special to celebrate Baz’s birthday. I’ve written a fic but this is the first time I’ve created/posted a fic and a pic. I’m not an artist. I’ve not really created anything artistic since junior high, MANY years ago.  But while I was writing this fic I had an overwhelming urge to attempt a sketch of Baz. The art posted here is my attempt. I can’t thank @vkelleyart enough for her feedback on the fic and her incredible words of encouragement and advice on the art--I’d never have been brave enough to post it, if it weren’t for her steadfast support. Also thanks to @basic-banshee for her beta work on the fic and her encouragement to post the art that accompanies it. And the way she Brit picks for me!

The art goes along with chapter two. Fireside conversation. 

Read the fic at AO3. 

Excerpt from Chapter One below.

Can’t Find My Way Home

Chapter One

Simon

I should’ve stayed in California with Agatha.

No, probably not a good idea.  Not with Penny and Micah leaving too.

I could’ve stayed with Penny, in Chicago. Would’ve been a bit awkward. This is the first Christmas she’s spending with Micah’s family and all. I didn’t want to barge in on that.

It’s looking like I might end up stranded in New York City, on my own, for Christmas.

They’ve delayed my flight to London twice already today.

Not like I won’t be by myself even if I do get home. I’ve not got anyone to spend the holiday with, not with Penny and Agatha here in America.

I could’ve stayed. I just didn’t want to do that to them.

Agatha’s made a life for herself here. She’s got her friends and her new boyfriend. Dr. and Mrs. Wellbelove flew in the day before yesterday to spend Christmas with her. It would have simply been too awkward for me to stay, what with them meeting Tyler for the first time.

Penny offered. To let me stay.

Micah did too. Told me this kind of storm usually shuts down the East Coast.

But it’s their first Christmas together. They don’t need to be dragging me along to Micah’s family home.

He’s got a big family, Micah does. Like Penny. Three or four sisters, I think. One brother? I can’t remember. And cousins. Penny says it’ll be a whole scene.

I’ll be fine on my own. I want to get home, to my flat.

The flight status just changed on the monitor again. Now it’s blank—not even a time estimate or ‘delayed’ anymore.

And then the announcement I’ve been dreading comes overhead. Flight’s cancelled.

Fuck.

It’s chaos at the counter now. I’m leaned up against this pillar, right close so I can see all the people queueing up. There are no seats left anywhere at this gate. Haven’t been for hours.

That’s how I ended up sitting on the floor.

Close enough to hear all the frustrated travelers arguing with the clerks.

Close enough to hear that voice.

The one I’d know anywhere.

Baz.

Baz

I fix my gaze on the ticket clerk in front of me. “There must be a flight going out tonight.”

“No, sir. Storm’s shut down all flights.”

“I need to get to London.”

“You and everyone else.”

This is unacceptable. I need to get home. “You don’t understand. I need to get on a plane to London. Tonight. I need to be there by Christmas. Whatever the price for a change fee.”

The clerk narrows his eyes at me. “Listen. I told you. No flights going out tonight. They’re shutting it down. Now what’s it going to be? Rebook or refund?”

“What?”

He waves my ticket at me. “Rebook you once flights are cleared or do you want a refund? I haven’t got all day.”

He damn well does have all day if there are no flights leaving this hellhole of an airport.

“I need to get to London as soon as possible.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Listen, mister. I’m telling you. No flights. Big storm. You want a rebooking voucher or a refund?”

“Are flights leaving Newark? Can you get me on a flight out from there?” I’m wracking my brain to think of options. This blasted storm is blanketing the entire northeast with snow.

I should have left earlier in the week. I knew I shouldn’t have left it to the last minute. I’d been so sure I’d make it home in plenty of time.

Then this storm had come up out of nowhere. My co-workers had been nonchalant about it, inured to the vagaries of weather in the tri-state area. I assumed the airports here were better equipped at handling snow. Better than Heathrow, at any rate.

Obviously not these amounts of snow.

“They’re all shut down. The whole East coast. There aren’t any flights going out of anywhere. Period. Now for the last time—refund or rebook. You’re holding up the line.”

I step away from the counter moments later, a slip of paper in hand and no prospect of reaching London anytime soon.

I aggressively punch in a search for train schedules on my mobile. Perhaps I can go south. There should be less snow south of here, shouldn’t there? I could book a flight out of somewhere down there.

But where? Philadelphia? Baltimore? Washington?

The weather map is grim. All those cities are under the same massive storm alert as we are. Trains don’t seem to be running either.

What the hell is going on with this country? I thought they were supposed to be intrepid and blasé about weather deviations like this. Obviously the television shows have vastly exaggerated the hardiness of the populace. And of their transportation systems.

Fuck it all. My mobile battery is now well into the red zone. I scan the gate area for a place to charge it while I plan my next step. I need battery power if I’m going to be doing searches all night.

There. I can see charging ports on that pillar beyond the counter.

I stride over to it, pulling my charging cord out of my bag. There’s a sudden movement to my left as I bend down to connect it. A pair of worn-down trainers come into view. “There’s another port over there,” I say, waving my hand at another free outlet. “I’m using this one.”

It’s only when I stand up that I come face to face with those familiar blue eyes. Bronze curls. Tawny, mole-dotted skin.

A face I would recognize anywhere.

The face I see in my dreams.

The face of the boy I’ve been hopelessly in love with since fifth year at Watford.

“Baz.”

I blink at him and my mind is a blank. So, of course, I say exactly the wrong thing.

What I said to him countless times during the eight years we were roommates.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Snow?”

Simon

I don’t even know why I stood up. Habit, I suppose. Even now, years later, I’m still on alert when I see Baz.

I’ve not seen him since the leavers ball, almost five years ago now. I knew he was in London. Penny ran into him about a year ago, at Foyles. Of course.

He’s not changed a bit. Still as pale as ever, tall and posh and impossibly fit. Can’t even be arsed to say a proper hello.

His hair’s longer. That’s different.

There was a moment, when our eyes first met just now, that something else flashed across his face. It’s not often you can surprise Baz Pitch. He’s always got that cool, indifferent expression.

Except then, for that split second. He looked . . . well, I don’t know how to describe it.

“You on this flight too, then?” Great snakes, what a stupid thing to ask. Of course he is. Why else would he be at this gate? I tense up, waiting for that sneer of his, the perfect arch of his raised eyebrow.

It doesn’t come.

Which surprises me.

“The one to London? Yes. Doesn’t look like anyone’s getting out of here tonight.” He bends down to check the connection on his mobile.

I shove my hands in my pockets and glance over at the queue. “They rebook you, then? I suppose I should get in the queue.”

Baz shakes his head. “They’ve no idea when flights will be cleared.” He stands up and waves a slip of paper at me. “I took the refund. I’ll find my own way out of this.”

“What’re you planning?”

He’s always plotting something.

“I’ve got the refund. Just need to find a way south, to an airport that’s not shut down by this fucking nightmare of a storm.”

I frown. I’ve been watching the weather on my mobile. This storm is huge. It’s covered the whole eastern part of the country. “Where’re you going to find an open airport? This thing’s massive.”

I know that expression. A muscle in Baz’s jaw twitches and I see his knuckles whiten as he grips his mobile.

“I’ll find a way.”

Honestly, if anyone could it would be Baz. He’s an absolute prat, a complete wanker of a human being, but he’s bloody brilliant. And determined. Even I have to admit that.

“Well, good to see you again, Baz. I’ll be off.” I tilt my head at the long queue. “May as well figure out what to do next.”

Baz

It’s probably been our most civil interaction in years. I’m at my wits end with my travel plans all bollocksed up but I can’t find it in myself to snap at Snow. Not when the sight of him makes my chest feel tight. When I can’t keep my eyes from hungrily taking in every detail of him.

He looks the same. Worn trainers, track bottoms, hoodie—just like always. His hair is longer, the curls disheveled and falling over his forehead in that familiar way. I want to reach out and push them from his face, sink my fingers into the mass of them. My eyes follow the trail of moles along his neck, dart up to the one on his cheek that I’ve longed to kiss for years now.

I want to keep him here, talking to me, letting me soak up the sight of him.

But he’s already moving away, waving his hand as he steps to the back of the queue.

“Snow.” His name wrenches out of me.

He stops, tilts his head and gives me a puzzled look. “Yeah?”

I clear my throat. “Are you rebooking or getting a refund?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

Classic Snow response. I roll my eyes and repeat myself. He shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll probably see if they can rebook me. I’ve got nowhere else to go.” He looks around. “Don’t fancy spending Christmas in an airport, mind you, but I suppose it could be worse.”

I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that I haven’t seen him in years and he’s still making my heart pound like it did when we lived together. I can’t let him walk away. I’m surely making an arse of myself but the words are out of my mouth before I can summon the strength to keep them in.

“Get the refund.”

“What?”

“Get the refund voucher. I’ll find an airport that will get us out of this fucking country and back home in time for Christmas, Snow.”

“You mean leave here? How? There’s a bloody great blizzard out there, Baz. Snowmageddon or whatever they’re calling it.”

“Go get the refund. I’ll figure things out while you’re in the queue.”

To my utter shock he shrugs, nods his head and makes his way to join the mass of people in front of the counter.

Simon

I don’t think his hair is all that’s different about him.

Baz has never directed that many words at me without an insult slipped in somewhere.

He’s probably just preoccupied. The travel inconvenience has him off his game.

My eyes keep going back to him as I wait in the queue. He’s leaning against the pillar, head down, furiously tapping at his mobile.

I like his hair this way. Falling down around his face in soft waves.

He always used to slick it back at school. It gave him such a severe, distant look. Went with his personality, I guess.

The only time he tied it up was when he was on the pitch.

Why am I thinking about Baz’s hair?

I shake myself and take a step forward in the queue. It’s slow and I’m bored. Everyone around me is complaining and arguing.

My eyes are drawn back to Baz. He’s still hunched over, scowling at whatever is on his screen. I let my eyes roam over him.

He’s still fit, the twat.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Baz in jeans before. They look expensive, tailored like they’re made for him. He looks really good.

Fuck.

I can feel my face grow hot, even before I turn away from him to scan the waiting area, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t Baz. I don’t know why I’m being like this. I know I haven’t seen him in a while but it’s just Baz. It’s not like he’s one of my friends. Far from it.

I’d been so excited, that first day at Watford. I’d never lived anywhere so posh, never been around people like that.

I don’t know why Watford gave out scholarships. I don’t know how I managed to qualify for one. All I know is one day Headmaster Mage showed up at the care home, signed some papers and whisked me off to a place that could have come out of one of my fantasies.

He’d explained it all on the train. That I’d live at Watford, that he’d be my temporary guardian while I was there since he’s the headmaster. He’d gone on about the clubs and classes and people I’d meet. It was like one of my dreams come to life but even better.

Until I met my roommate. Baz.

I’d introduced myself, stammering ‘cause I was so nervous, put my sweaty hand out towards his. And he’d just glared at me.

I didn’t know anything about him. Didn’t know his mum had been the previous headmaster. Didn’t know she’d been killed in a hit and run on her way to Watford a few years before. Didn’t know Baz was in the car with her when she died.

I didn’t know any of that.

I wanted to make a friend. That’s what all the roommates in stories were—friends.

He’d glared at me and moved off, leaving me standing there with my hand still held out.

It didn’t get much better after that. I couldn’t do anything right. Not in class, not in the room, not on the pitch.

Baz even said I breathed too loud.

It was open hostility the first few years but by the end we’d gotten into a bit of a pattern. We’d stopped getting into scraps after third year.

I didn’t want to get expelled—Watford was the only home I had. Being in the care homes for the summers was bad enough. I couldn’t imagine being back in them full time.

I’d stay out of his way as much as possible—sit far from him in class, in the dining hall. I’d shower in the morning, he’d do it at night. I’d try to study in the library with Penny and he’d stay in the room.

Things were almost civil by the time we graduated. Almost.

If you call sharing a space with someone and barely speaking to them civil.

I’d learned all about his mum by then. And I’d learned Headmaster Mage had been the one to take her place. Figured that first day was likely harder for him than for me. Being stuck with some charity case of the headmaster’s was the last thing he’d wanted to be saddled with.

I can understand that. I can understand how upsetting it was to go back to a place that meant so much to his mum.

I suppose it was easier to take it out on me than anyone else at first. I get that. But then I suppose we got into the habit of needling each other, sniping and snarking constantly. And it stuck. We didn’t know how to be anything else.

At least I didn’t know how.

I tried fifth year. Tried to bite back the comments, tried not to flare up when he would say things in that cool, posh voice of his.

I’ve a temper. Didn’t manage holding it in too well. Baz has a way of going for the low blow, every time. It’s maddening.

It didn’t help at all seventh year, when Agatha broke up with me. I knew she liked Baz. Liked him more than me. They were a better match—everyone could see it. Both from wealthy, old families, both gorgeous and elegant, just made for each other.

Except it never happened. He’d spent years trying to break us up and then, when we finally did, he just seemed to stop caring. I’ve never understood that. I thought for certain he’d sweep Agatha off her feet and that’d be it.

I think Agatha was expecting that as well.

I’m finally getting closer to the counter. Three people left in front of me. I take a peek in Baz’s direction again.

He’s looking right at me. With that funny expression on his face. I can’t place it, it’s nothing like his usual sneer.

My face gets hot again and I turn my head.

But I can’t get that image out of my mind.

He looked . . . he looked hungry? No, that’s not it.

Longing? Is that it?

I’m sure I’m reading it wrong. He’s probably just tired.  

That doesn’t explain why he’s looking at me that way though.

Baz

The trains are as fucked as the airlines. I’m desperate enough to look at bus schedules, even if the thought of traveling by bus makes me shudder.

It’s useless. Everything’s shut down. Planes, trains, busses. I’m fucked. There’s no way I’m getting home in time for Christmas. No way I’m going to be there for Mordelia’s birthday.

And thanks to American internships and their brutal holiday leave policies I’ve got to be back here in another week. I’ll be lucky if I get three full days at home and I’ll be missing the most important ones. Fuck it all.

I hate it here. I hate this internship. I want nothing more than to move back to London. I know it’s a reputable company. I know it will be a good addition to my resume.

They’re planning on opening a London office in May. That’s the whole reason I’ve put up with this misery in the first place. The hope that this internship will lead to a full-time job offer in London.

There’s no guarantee of that though.

Some days I want to give my notice, walk out of there and never go back.

I’ve thought about it. Thought about not coming back next week. But I’m not one to give up. Not one to shirk my duty.

I’m a Pitch. I’ll see it through.

I wonder why Snow is here. Probably visiting Bunce.

I ran into Bunce last spring, before she moved to Chicago. She and Snow were still sharing a flat then. It wasn’t hard to get her talking about him.

I know he’s taking this year off. I know he’s working in a care home. I know he’s planning on going to graduate school, in Social Work.

I hadn’t realized how desperate I was to know how he was doing. I had assured myself I was over him. That I could listen to Bunce and not feel any emotion other than vague interest.

Seeing him now proves just how wrong I was. I can barely take my eyes off him.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t know why I told him to take the refund. I don’t know why I’m letting myself hope.

Nothing’s going to be different. He’s not going to be friends with me.  

He’s not going to realize I’m in love with him. That I’ve been in love with him for years.

There’s no hope of him falling in love with me.

I’m not sure he even likes me, to be honest. I wouldn’t, if I were him. I’ve been beastly since the first day we met.

I square my shoulders. I’m certainly not going to let on how I feel about him. I’ve kept it to myself for years. I can keep it under wraps a bit longer.

It would be so much easier if I hadn’t just told him I’d find us a way home though.

I’ve booked us a rental car. Which is likely one of the stupidest ideas I’ve ever had. How we’re going to manage driving through this blizzard is beyond me but it’s the only option I’ve got left.

Miraculously I have managed to secure us a Range Rover. The rental rate was obscene, which is likely why it was still available.

But money is no object to me at the moment. I need to get home.

I’m an excellent driver. I’m familiar with the vehicle. It’s a more manageable size than some of these American behemoths and I know it should handle well in snow. At least the kind of snow we get back home.

I’ve no idea how it will handle in this blizzard. But it’s all I have so I am putting my faith and my energy into making this work.

It takes four hours to drive to Washington in good weather. Likely double in this muck. Planes are still flying out of there but I’m not sure how long that will last. They’ve got freezing rain at the moment but that could change rapidly into snow.

If Washington shuts down then my next option is Richmond.

I’m plotting this all out on my map. If we get to either of those places tonight we can fly out on tomorrow’s flight. That would get us to London by Christmas Eve. Not ideal but it will do.

Better than Christmas day, but I’ll even take a Christmas day arrival if I have to.

I save the flight data and maps on my mobile. I don’t want to book a flight yet, not sure if Washington or Richmond will be my best option.

Snow is still in the queue. I let my eyes rest on him, drinking in the sight of him. I’ve not let myself think about him. Not since I saw Bunce. It’s too hopeless to let myself dwell. It hurts to think about him. To know he’s been in London for all these years. To know that I can’t simply call him up and ask him round to the pub. Because I’ve been such a wanker to him for so long.

Because he’d never say yes.

Because I don’t even have his number.

He’s filled out a bit. He’d always be so thin when he’d come back at the start of term. Painfully thin. Wan and anxious. And then he’d settle in somehow, the light coming back into his eyes.

I’d watch him shovel Cook Pritchard’s food in at mealtimes. And then in a matter of weeks his color would be back to that golden glow, his face would lose its sharp angles, he’d be back to the Simon Snow I knew and loved.

He looks like that now. I suppose he must look like that all the time, since he’s out on his own and doesn’t have to go back in care every summer.

I don’t know why Mage did that. Sent him back to those homes at end of term. Surely he could have stayed at Watford.

Mage was there. The caretaker was there. There were always some staff on hand to keep the place up during the summer. Some of the professors lived just off the grounds.

I’m sure the Wellbeloves would have taken him in.

Simon spoke about it once. Seventh year. I don’t think he intended to reveal as much as he did. He’d always spent Christmas with Wellbelove’s family and I asked him why he didn’t go home with her in the summers too. They’d broken up by then so it was a bit cruel of me to ask. Which means I probably did it intentionally.

Christ, I am such a pillock sometimes. Most of the time.

He’d said then that Mage made him go to the homes in the summers. Said it would keep him closer to his roots, his origins. Make him a stronger man.

If I hadn’t already hated Mage I think that would have made me do it. I can’t imagine forcing Simon into that situation when he didn’t need to be in it. It was cruel.

But it was the next part that gutted me.

“I’m old enough to sign myself out now.” He’d said it so softly I’d barely caught it.

“What?”

“I can sign myself out. If you’re over sixteen you can leave. Be on your own.”

“So why don’t you? Certainly it’s better being anywhere but there?”

He’d looked down at the floor and shrugged. Snow can carry on entire conversations using shrugs. It’s maddening.

“Nowhere else to go. It’s better than being on the street. Three meals a day and showers.”

“But surely . . .” and then I’d stopped. Because I wasn’t sure of anything all of a sudden. He had no family. He had no income. I could have let a small flat for the summer, paid for my expenses on my own. He didn’t have that luxury.

“Surely you could stay with someone—Bunce, Wellbelove?”

He had shaken his head. “Too many people at Penny’s. There’s barely enough room for all of them. And Micah’s visiting this summer.”

He hadn’t mentioned Wellbelove. I suppose that would have been awkward, spending the summer with your ex-girlfriend. I don’t know why I had brought it up.

“You could . . .” I’d managed to stop myself in time. I couldn’t believe I’d almost asked him to come home with me for the summer.

No, I couldn’t do that.  Couldn’t have invited Mage’s charity case home with me. What would my father have thought?

Snow wouldn’t have come anyway. He’d have assumed it was some elaborate plot to humiliate him or make him wretched. He’s always thought the worst of me. With good reason, of course, but it still twinges.

[supremeuppityone]

A Comedy of Farriers

This was written for KC Week Day 7 - Emotions. We’ll mostly explore confusion and, of course, embarrassment in this story as Klaus meets a bubbly blonde at his family’s stable and is irritated to see that she appears to be dating his brother (when she could be dating him instead). Misunderstandings abound as Klaus clumsily attempts to be the noble brother...

 “Horse sense is the thing a horse has which keeps it from betting on people.”

― W.C. Fields

             A thousand hot knives pierced his skin and painful flames radiated from his bicep as Klaus let out an impressive string of curses that echoed throughout the stable. He glared at the Andalusian, who tossed back its thick black mane as though daring him to come closer after delivering such a powerful (and incredibly painful) bite to his bicep.

           An annoyed huff startled him, and he whirled around to see a stunning blonde glare at him before scolding, Seriously? What the hell did you think would happen when you approached his blind zone? Marcellus is very sensitive.”

           Despite his annoyance at the blonde, he couldn’t help but appreciate the way her dusty jeans and faded black tank top hugged her curves. “I can assure you, I’m quite familiar with Marcellus’ mood swings.” Cocking his head to the side, he smirked down at her as he asked, “You don’t know who I am, do you, love?”

           “You’re one of the over-privileged, overindulged Mikaelsons. Since I hear Elijah is a fussy chronic suit-wearer and Finn would cut out his own tongue before stooping to speak to the help, I’m assuming you’re Klaus — internationally renowned artist whose mood swings are even more legendary than Marcellus’,” she told him with another unimpressed eye roll.

           What remarkable fire. Intrigued, he started to hold out his hand to properly introduce himself when an involuntary spasm of pain from his arm reminded him of his injury courtesy of his temperamental horse.

           Concern flickered in her blue eyes despite her obvious irritation with him, and she quickly maneuvered him out of the stall and sat him on one of the wooden benches just outside. Her touch was surprisingly tender and he found himself leaning into it while breathing in the smells of saddle soap and a hint of peaches that made him wonder what she would taste like. “I’m Caroline. I’m the farrier for Mystic Stables,” she introduced herself with a brief nod, pushing up his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the horse bite.

           Klaus dumbly stared at her as she examined the rapidly bruising flesh, oddly compelled to count the adorable cluster of freckles dancing across her nose. “Klaus...I’m uh, Klaus Mikaelson,” he clumsily offered, noting her amused expression as he hurriedly added, “But you already knew that I guess.” Inwardly groaning at how ridiculous he sounded, he tried to regroup and think of something witty to say, but was too distracted by the warmth of her touch as her fingers grazed the wound.

           “Even though horses are grass eaters, their jaws are very strong and they have surprisingly sharp teeth. If startled, they’ll act out aggressively, even if they recognize you. Of course, you haven’t been to visit Marcellus since he was moved to Mystic Stables a year ago, so I’d argue his reaction is perfectly understandable,” Caroline told him in a voice full of reproach. Standing up, she rummaged through a cabinet above their heads, her tank top riding up to give him a teasing flash of her bellybutton.

           Clearing his throat, he turned his head slightly, not wanting to come off as a creep. “Can I assume that is how you handle stable visitors with poor manners then, sweetheart?”

           Grinning down at him, Caroline grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and began lightly dabbing at the edges of his bite where the horse’s teeth had sunk in slightly. “Actually, I have a few different methods of dealing with bad behavior at the stables.”

           “Like threatening completely innocent, slightly tipsy blokes with a shotgun,” drawled a newcomer, and Klaus grit his teeth as he recognized the voice of his mischievous little brother, Kol.

           Klaus watched with a sinking feeling as Kol draped his arm companionably around Caroline’s shoulders, and Caroline bumped him affectionately with her hip as she told Klaus, “It was my second day here and I was working late when a completely shitfaced Kol and his equally drunk buddy had climbed over our gates and were clumsily trying to put saddles on Tyler and Mason.” She shrugged, smearing a bit of ointment on Klaus’ bruised flesh as she added in fake innocence, “I thought they were trying to steal our clients’ best Quarter Horses, so naturally I pulled a shotgun on them and threatened to shoot off their balls.”

           “Fairly certain Josh pissed himself when this fiery little minx started shrieking at us about deep cracks causing pressure on laminate and how it could lead to Tyler being lame,” Kol joined in with a cheeky smile, “Honestly, we would’ve picked a different horse to race against Mason had we known Tyler was injured, little bird.”  

           While Caroline returned the medical supplies to the overhead cabinet, Klaus studied the way his brother watched her with a fond smile that was worlds away from his typical smugness. Damn it — Kol genuinely liked her. “It’s sensitive laminae, Kol. And yes, had you and Josh tried to do your stupid drunken race, Tyler might’ve ended up permanently lame. And you and Josh would’ve ended up permanently ball-less,” she told him with a sinister gleam in her blue eyes.

           “That’s why I’m your apprentice farrier, little bird. That and I bring you lunch every day,” Kol replied, shaking the sack his was holding.  

           Caroline squealed adorably, snatching it and inhaling deeply. “Your brother is the best, Klaus. He’s always looking out for me,” she told him, ruffling his brother’s brown locks affectionately. “I’m going to go take my break now and Kol, please get started measuring Mason for those special racing shoes we discussed.” She nodded at Klaus and told him, “It was nice to finally meet you, Klaus, but watch out for blind zones next time, okay?”

           As the brothers watched her walk away, Klaus couldn’t help but feel as though part of his future happiness was walking away too. Stop being such a prat. Kol is clearly happy with her. “Hell of a story, mate. Caroline seems like a special girl.”

           Quirking an eyebrow, Kol replied, “She is, Nik. She was so bloody protective of the horses, not realizing at the time that our family owned over half of the ones stabled here, and I knew I needed to figure out how to get her to be that protective of me.”

           “And that’s why you’re mucking about this place as her assistant, rather than gallivanting across Europe like usual,” Klaus asked curiously. He briefly recalled a completely gobsmacked Rebekah telling him that Kol had moved in with someone, but it hadn’t occurred to him that his spoiled, selfish little brother had finally decided to settle down.

           Buckling a leather tool belt across his waist, Kol answered somewhat defensively, “Caroline is a good person who didn’t see me as the constant screw-up our family thinks I am. All us Mikaelsons have more money than we could ever spend, but so what? She saw through who I’ve been pretending to be all my life. I like the person I am now because of her and I’d hate to think what kind of mess I’d be if Caroline wasn’t in my life.” Brown eyes narrowed, he pointed a finger at Klaus, warning him, “And I saw how you were trying to chat her up. Nik, don’t cock this up.”

           Klaus reassured his brother, “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate.”

           Having never played the role of the noble brother, Klaus found himself a bit lost over the next two weeks. He told himself that he started frequenting Mystic Stables because he missed Marcellus after being overseas at various gallery openings for the past year. However, it wasn’t his temperamental Andalusian’s company he kept seeking out. He’d take Marcellus out for a quick gallop through the main trail dotted with apple trees, but he found himself constantly craning his neck for a glimpse of golden curls tucked underneath a ragged baseball cap.

           He watched with an admiring eye the gentle manner she had with all of the horses, clearly willing to take the time to get to know their individual personalities and earning their trust. She’d once confessed to Klaus that she’d had few close friends growing up, always feeling more of a kinship with horses, and wanted to repay the kindness those gentle giants had shown her by giving them the best life she could. Selfless, gentle soul. She was a hard worker and incredibly loyal to the creatures, and Klaus found himself feeling almost as jealous of the horses as he was of his brother.  

           And then there was the singing. The first time he’d heard it while walking Marcellus for his post-ride cooldown, he’d assumed one of the grooms had left a radio on. However, the second time it occurred, he realized it was Caroline softly crooning to a skittish Dutch Draft. The gigantic creature was stomping the ground, but Caroline was fearless. Her melodic voice seemed to soothe the beast until it docilely allowed her to lift each of its massive hooves as she trimmed and filed away, blissfully unaware of her enthralled audience.  

           When she wasn’t unwittingly serenading Klaus, Caroline could be found working in one of the smaller pens to take advantage of the sunshine and gentle breezes. The precious few times he’d seen her astride a horse had left him breathless and blushing like a schoolboy. She’d been magnificent, like a fierce warrior queen charging into battle. She’d caught him staring one time too many and had teased him with, “What’s the matter, Klaus? Did you forget how to ride?”

           “I’d be open to a riding lesson, sweetheart,” Klaus purred, inwardly berating himself for his dodgy innuendo. Stop trying to flirt with your brother’s girl.  

           Caroline threw back her head, laughing as she told him, “You Mikaelson boys are shameless flirts. Kol warned me about you, you know. Sexy broody artist-type who Kol swears collects hearts the way I collect boots.”

           The fondness in her voice as she spoke of Kol sent him crashing back to reality, and he felt the teasing smirk leave his face as he told her abruptly, “Yes, well, Kol has been known to exaggerate from time to time.” Uncomfortable with the way her own sunny smile dropped at his sudden coldness, he mumbled something about being late for a previous engagement and rode Marcellus back to his stall. A few days later, he found a flyer for children’s riding lessons and Caroline’s cheerful, curly-cue writing at the bottom that read, “Hey grumpy, I signed you up for the beginner’s class.” He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped as he looked at the smiley face she’d drawn with its tongue sticking out.

           After that, he was on his best behavior — friendly, but not overly so in case he forgot himself and started shamelessly flirting again. It helped that Kol seemed to be popping up more than usual lately, teasing his brother good-naturedly and always leaving the stables when his shift ended with a careless wave in Caroline’s direction, telling her, “See you at home, little bird.” Granted, he felt his heart sink just a bit more each time he heard Kol say that, but he couldn’t fault his brother for wanting to constantly announce that he was the lucky bastard Caroline came home to. If it were him, he’d probably have hired a skywriter.

           Of course, he could’ve sworn that Kol seemed to take particular delight in pointedly dropping little tidbits about his relationship, going on and on about something they called Margarita Monday Madness, wiggling his eyebrows comically whenever Caroline’s back was turned.

           Or, the time Caroline asked Kol to move a few of the hay bales and he did a mini-striptease as he stripped off his shirt in front of her as she rolled her eyes and giggled. Klaus recognized the challenge in his troublemaking brother’s expression, and pulled off his own shirt, unable to stop himself from casually peeking to see if Caroline was watching. From the pink staining her cheeks, he thought she was, until he realized Kol had added to his little show by slowly pouring his water bottle over his chest. Bloody wanker. 

           Klaus accidentally had left his sketchpad behind, telling himself he wanted to document Marcellus grazing along the picturesque ruins of an old farmhouse. Bloody liar. Caroline featured quite prominently in his sketches these days. Giggles coming from the office drew his attention, and he decided to see what mischief Caroline was getting up to. He rounded the corner and stopped short at what he saw through the open doorway.

           One of the stable hands, a dodgy bloke named Enzo, was leaning in dangerously close to Caroline, his dark eyes shifting from side to side as though checking to see if they were alone. Klaus hung back in the shadows, fists clenched as he watched Enzo whisper something that was no doubt scandalous in her ear.

           Whatever he said made Caroline squeal in delight, clapping her hands excitedly as she enveloped him in a hug, pressing her curves against him as Enzo squeezed her tightly, his eyes closed blissfully. Bloody hell. That blonde tart was cheating on his brother. How could he have been so wrong about her? How in the hell was he going to tell Kol? Or, should he stay out of it? Fists clenched in anger, he stormed off, intent to drink until he no longer had the disgusting image of Caroline and Enzo seared into his brain.

            Daylight streamed through Klaus’ bedroom window, temporarily blinding him as he rolled over and let out a string of curses as his head began to pound from his hangover. Caroline. Enzo. It all came rushing back to him and he rubbed the side of his face with a heavy sigh. He had to tell Kol. Just picturing how heartbroken Kol would be made his own heart ache, but he couldn’t allow his brother to be played for a fool. Ignoring the pounding in his skull brought on by far too much bourbon and self-doubt, he threw on some clothes that didn’t appear too rumpled and drove over to the flat Kol shared with Caroline.

           High on equal parts righteous indignation and adrenaline, he didn’t bother knocking before using the key Kol gave him for emergencies to barge in. He found them passed out on their couch, the TV playing softly in the background. He glared down at Caroline, hating how her soft golden waves perfectly framed her beautiful face. Deceitful trollop.

           As though sensing Klaus’ presence, Caroline stirred, yawning loudly as she opened one eye to regard him blearily. Nudging a snoring Kol with her foot, she grumbled, “Why is your hot, grumpy brother glaring at me so early on a Saturday morning?”

           Klaus hated the way his heart fluttered hopefully when he heard that Caroline thought him attractive, but he quickly tamped down that feeling. He was furious — how dare she be such a callous creature and toy with his baby brother like this?! Jabbing an accusing finger in her direction, he ground out, “Tell him what you’ve been doing, Caroline! And don’t try to deny it, I saw you yesterday!”

           Shifting to rest on his elbows, Kol mockingly gasped at Caroline, “I knew it! You did eat the last slice of chocolate raspberry torte!” High-fiving Klaus, he added, “Good show exposing that dirty lying vixen, Nik.”

           With an exasperated sigh, Klaus told him, “No, Kol. I saw Caroline with Enzo yesterday.” As his little brother’s eyes widened, Klaus ran his fingers through his messy curls, his tone apologetic as he told him, “I don’t know how long it’s been going on. I’m so sorry, brother.”

           He threw another glare at Caroline, who had the gall to look offended. “What the hell, Klaus? So, you’re my grumpy stalker now?”

           “That’s a bit rich, you feigning righteous indignation, sweetheart,” Klaus seethed. At her angry scoff, he shouted, “You’re cheating on my brother with Enzo!”

           Klaus watched in confusion as Kol and Caroline glanced at each other, seeming to carry on a silent conversation with a quirk of their eyebrows. When they both burst into hysterical giggles, Klaus realized he’d clearly made a mistake.

           Still breathing hard from laughing, Caroline said, “Kol and I are roommates and friends. Where the hell did you get the idea that he and I were dating?!”

           Kol wore a chagrined expression as he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Yeah...so I might’ve figured out you thought Caroline and I were a couple and I had thought about setting you straight, but you so clearly fancied her that I thought it would be a bit of a laugh to see how long I could keep up the pretense.”

           Caroline began brutally smacking Kol in the face with one of the fluffy pillows from the couch, muttering mostly incoherent phrases like “let me go on and on” and “you knew this whole time” heavily laced with curses while Klaus just yelled, “Arsehole!”

           Jumping off of the couch to escape Caroline’s pillow assault, Kol’s brown eyes glittered with mischief as he said, “Nik, I swear I was going to tell you soon...for your birthday.”

           Klaus growled, “My birthday is next summer, you wanker!”

           “I think we’re all forgetting the most important bit we learned here — Enzo.” Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he asked her anxiously, “Did you talk me up? Is it time to get out my naughty spurs? Come on, help a bloke out, little bird!”

           Thoughts racing, Klaus tried to make sense of everything he’d just learned while fighting off the remnants of his hangover. “So you’re not dating Caroline. And you’re gay?”

           Rolling her eyes, Caroline answered for his brother, “Kol’s not a fan of limiting his dating pool.” Glancing at Kol, she told him, “And yes, I was an awesome roommate and lied my ass off about you and didn’t even tell your crush how you secretly think Mariah should’ve gotten an Oscar for Glitter.”

           Horrified, Kol hurriedly said, “That’s not what I said! The movie was just not as bad as everyone says it is...And also, Margarita Monday Madness secret confessions are supposed to stay secret!”

           Klaus couldn’t help the indulgent smile that crept across his face as he watched his brother and Caroline bicker back and forth good naturedly. He saw it now, the connection they share was clearly one of a close, loving friendship, and he couldn’t believe how blind he’d been. Before he could begin to form an apology for his ridiculous assumptions, Caroline commanded Kol, “And you can return the favor by joining Enzo at his favorite breakfast spot over on Augustine Street so I can show your brother my naughty spurs.”

           Klaus could feel his neck flush from Caroline’s blatant interest, but still managed to throw a flirtatious smirk her way which caused her to blush prettily under the heat of his gaze. Kol interrupted their moment when he poked him in the chest on his way out of their flat, warning him, “Nik, don’t cock this up.”

           Klaus smiled as he reassured his brother, “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate.”

[rabidwrestlingfan]

WrestlingNoob Ask Box Story: Pete Dunne

The tears spilled over without warning, ruining the makeup she worked so hard on. "So this is it?" Her voice wavered as she spoke. The Birmingham native nodded with a roll of his eyes. He seemed so unbothered by the fact that she was breaking in front of him. "I.. I gave everything up for you. I lost friends because of you. Why?" She asked after seconds of silence. "I never asked ya too, sweetheart. You should have known what you were getting into." Pete said like it was the simplest thing ever.

"I expected this a month or two in! Not a year! Do you even care?!" Her voice had risen considerably. He shrugged nonchalantly before speaking. "Just 'cause you're a good lay doesn't mean I plan on forever, love. Guys like me don't fall in love forever." She was shocked at the words. She had always figured he'd say the L word when he was comfortable, not that it meant he didn't care about her. The more she thought about it the more she realised how long this had been coming.

Even Trent had given her a hushed warning that she didn't know what she was getting into in the very beginning. Before she betrayed her two best friends just to show him she meant what she said. "It was a trick all along." She finally realised. She had been a puppet for him to use until he got tired of it. "You played the part so well. The honorable pet that was always good for a distraction... in and out of the ring." He answered. The air rushed from her lungs. This couldn't be real.

"Even after everyone warned you about the big bad wolf you didn't realise? More dense then I thought." His words only added to the pain she already felt. How had she let it go this far? How had she even let this happen? "It never struck you as weird that I never once called you my girl? You've always been a piece of the puzzle. Even that first night at that hotel." The night he had 'saved' her from some flirty drunks. Her eyes closed unwillingly, wishing she was anywhere but where she was.

She could hear him moving about the apartment, but she didn't dare open her eyes. He had never cared. "How could you even do this?" The thought alone was making her sick, yet he was obviously just fine. "It's quite simple. Don't get attached and everything works to plan. You thought you were so special. You thought you were the girl who was gonna change me instead of just another girl. You did this to yourself." He answered with a chuckle. It sounded so evil paired with the words he had spoken.

Finally she opened her eyes to look into his. She had never seen his eyes look so cold towards her. "But... you TOLD me I was different. You told me you never had the same girl over two times. You never let a girl keep stuff here." She said quickly, hands flailing about. She still wanted to believe this was a nightmare that he'd wake her up from any minute. "Do you believe everything you hear, love? Or am I just that good of a liar?" He asked with a sinister sneer.

A small cry ripped from her throat, making him chuckle. "What's wrong? Can't handle the truth of this situation? Is that why you're still grasping at straws? God, you're pathetic. I figured you'd run as soon as I told you. Didn't expect the water works. Is it supposed to convince me to stay?" He was pacing in front of her now. He looked like a caged animal. Pete would never physically hurt her, would he? "I wish I never loved you, Pete Dunne." She said as level as she could manage.

He stopped in his tracks and let out a laugh. It made her skin crawl. "Ouch love, that really hurts." He said sarcastically. She took a deep breath before she nodded. This was it. "I hope every single time you get shitfaced you see me in your dreams. I hope you always here my voice. I hope I find someone who makes me happy and you see what you gave up. I hope I make you hurt like I do right now until you die." She noticed her old duffel bag by the door and grabbed it, literally running away.

1. The woman ran into someone with a sobbed sorry before continuing her escape. The Wolverhampton native sighed heavily before heading up to his friend's flat. Trent stood in the doorway simply watching Pete's pacing form. The younger man suddenly turned around with a sneer. "What'd you do?" Trent finally asked. It was clear that he had chased her off. "Told her it was all a game and that I used her to further my career." Pete answered lowly.

2. "Christ, Peter! You finally find a girl that cares about you and you pull this? I know you lov-" A plastic cup came flying towards him before he could finish. "Shut up! This way she gets her friends back and doesn't ruin herself. Girls like her don't belong with guys like me. No matter how much we... care about them." Trent knew any further arguments would likely lead to a physical fight. Pete had loved her whether he admitted it or not, and everyone but her knew it. And now she was gone.

It was two weeks later that he seen her backstage at a Progress show. She looked like hell. Her eyes were dead, hair looked flat, and she looked pale. "He did it to himself." He heard Tyler hiss to Trent. He wanted to lash out at the younger man but couldn't rip his eyes off of her. She was wearing more makeup than she normally did. He couldn't help but wonder why. Had she been eating right? Was she sleeping? Had the nightmares picked up again? Millions of questions whirled through his mind.

He could see a part of her crack when their eyes met. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. "Tell me I did the right thing letting her go." He said quickly and quietly to his companions. He was everything she shouldn't want. Everything the love of her life shouldn't be. "You're a sodding idiot, Dunne." Tyler said honestly. She had clicked with him easily. "Told you how I felt that night." Trent said with a sigh. Of course neither of them could see what he did. "I did the right thing."

It was that statement that sent Tyler off. "Really?! You sulking around biting everyone's head off for two weeks is the right thing? Look. At. Her." He growled quietly, forcefully turning Pete's head to look towards her. "Does THAT look like the right thing? You threw her away like she was nothing! You are so emotionally stunted that you couldn't even tell the poor girl you loved her. You did this. Either live with it or go TRY to fix it." Pete pushed him back with a snarl. "Get off me, Bate."

Trent stepped between the two before things could get too bad. "If you want her, then go tell her." Pete said with a roll of his eyes. Tyler laughed humorlessly at the thought. "You are out of your mind. I never have wanted her, and I never will. She's like my sister and I'm the one who wakes up to her crying! I didn't say anything because I hoped you'd open your eyes, but of course that's too much to ask! She's been staying with me so she doesn't have to be alone. She's fucking miserable."

Pete froze upon hearing the words. She'd been staying with Tyler since then? And he let her? "Why?" Was all he asked. "Why what? You know what, nevermind that question. There's a ninety percent chance the answer is that I'm a decent human being. You broke her, Pete. She didn't want to be alone and I was worried. I knew the nightmares would come back and that she probably wouldn't take care of herself. I get to sleep on my couch in twenty minute intervals between nightmares. Because of you."

Pete knew he was breathing incredibly hard despite seeming no more pissed off than usual. On the inside he was screaming. He was mad, heartbroken, and shocked all at once. Tyler was obviously rubbing salt in the wounds and it both hurt and angered him. On the other hand he knew the Dudley man was right. She wouldn't have taken care of herself if she were alone. "Pete?" Trent asked, still between the two. The man looked like his brain had short circuited and it left him perfectly still.

"Peppermint tea, two sugars, and just a little bit of milk. She'll be out like a light. Play with her hair for a few minutes after she passes out. Put a pillow against her back and you won't have to lay with her." Was all Pete said. The two quickly realised it was ways to help her with nightmares. He still hadn't moved from the spot, eyes glued to the floor. "Don't do this. Don't make you both miserable because you don't know what to do. She loves you. You love her. Make it right." Tyler stated.

"Can't. You didn't hear the things I said. She's better off far away. This'll pass soon, and she'll be with someone who loves her right. Just not me." He mumbled. Tyler literally groaned in frustration. "You're such an idiot. Such a fucking idiot!" He exclaimed. Even Trent groaned in frustration. "If you care about her like you say, you'll drop this." Pete said simply. He was doing this for her. He had never deserved her. Never deserved everything she'd done for him. "Let me let her go. Please."

"And what about caring about you? You aren't faring much better. I can tell you've been sleeping worse than normal. You're four times more unbearable. How are you the only one that doesn't see what's happening?" It was Trent that spoke this time. Pete looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What's happening is you guys trying to fix something that's shattered. It's impossible to fix what I did to her. Besides, this way there's a chance for her to redeem herself from being associated with me

"If you're talking about the girls, then they've already talked that one out. Three hours of sobbing, hugging, and ice cream before I made a run for it a few days ago. They want her happy. They know you made her happy." Tyler said with a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was like it physically pained him. "Name one other woman that you've ever learned about like you did her. You literally just gave Tyler tips to help her with her nightmares." Trent added like an ashamed father.

Pete's eyes went over to where she had been standing earlier. "Bug off. Both of you." He said simply before walking off. Tyler had went to follow him before Trent stopped him. "Let him go and hope he reaches a realization of how things are." He said lowly. Pete's eyes stayed on the ground as he walked towards the exit. They were wrong. They had to be. There was no reality where his relationship with her ever worked out. He took a deep breath of fresh air before the door opened behind him.

Pete's eyes snapped over figuring that they had followed him out. "I told you not to-" Then he seen her. She had frozen in the doorway upon hearing his voice. "Sorry. Didn't know you were here." She said before storming past him to her car. He wanted to run after her. Wanted to scream how much he fucked up. Wanted to do anything but stand there like an idiot, which is what he was doing. He watched her ripping through the car. She was obviously looking for something. She was always losing things.

Their eyes met briefly when she looked over before she quickly looked away. His chest constricted once more. She looked so sad. He'd never meant to hurt her like this. He just wanted her with someone who made her happy. Not someone who didn't know how to care for her. She wanted things that he just couldn't give her. "I'm sorry." Pete breathed. She'd never hear him but at least he said it. She'd never know just how sorry he really was. She closed her car door with a resigned sigh.

"Do you have any extra tape? Mine is nowhere to be found, and you guys are the only ones here already." She asked after a few moments of obvious hesitation. Pete watched her for a few seconds, weighing his options. In reality he knew exactly where her tape was. It was on his coffee table. Exactly where she left it when she was in a rush to change so they could go out after a show three weeks ago. Finally he nodded silently before leading her back into the building.

He heard her mutter a quiet thanks before following him. He considered locking her in a closet somewhere that no one would find her until the end of the show. He didn't want her competing tonight. From what Tyler had said she really shouldn't be. She'd be tired, and possibly weakened from not eating right. A prime choice for an injury to attack. Suddenly he shook his head minutely. It wasn't his place to worry about her anymore. If she thought she could handle a match then he couldn't stop her.

"Who are you up against?" Pete asked before he could stop himself. She hesitated before answering. "Jinny." He stopped, turning to look at her quickly. "You're not fighting Jinny tonight. Absolutely not." He told her seriously. She couldn't help but laugh at him. "Excuse me? In what world do you have any say whatsoever in what I do? YOU gave up that right two weeks ago. I need a paycheck therefore I'm in a match. It's simple." He shook his head, fist clenching. "How much do you need?" He asked.

She was so shocked that she couldn't even speak for a few seconds. "Excuse me?" She finally asked. "How much money do you need to not fight tonight?" He reiterated. Without a moment of hesitation she had slapped him. "Fuck you, Pete Dunne!" She yelled before storming past him. He went after her moments later. "You really think you can do this? She'll have no qualms about taking you out." He called after her, still following her. "Not. Your. Problem." She told him angrily.

He gripped her arm tightly, tugging her back. "Has Jim even seen you in person since this match was made? Because I know he won't stand for this. I'm surprised Tyler and Trent even let you come here. The nightmares are bad, and you physically look terrible. Jinny'll kill you if you go out there." He told her, voice betraying him by cracking at the end. Her eyes were watering when he looked at her. "You did this to yourself, Pete. Don't pretend to care now. Please." She whispered quietly.

"You're the one who told me I was just a pawn. You ruined us. You used me. I would have walked through broken glass to make you happy. And... it scares me how useless I feel. It scares me that I feel this numb without you. I don't even feel human." She told him, tears spilling over finally. He brushed them away without even realising it. "I'm sorry. Even if you think I'm lying." For unknown reasons he leaned sown and kissed her, all the emotions brewing inside him came out.

She kissed him back for moments before pushing him away. She slapped him once more with a growl. "You DO NOT get to do that. A kiss isn't going to change anything. You probably aren't sorry, either. The truth is that I don't know what to believe when it comes to the shit you do. I have everyone in my ear telling me that you didn't lie until you broke up with me and that you love me. Everyone except you. And even if that's true then I'm even more scared. You made it sound so natural and easy."

He didn't even flinch when she slapped him. He knew he deserved it. "Don't have the match tonight and you won't ever have to talk to me again. I can't deal with you getting hurt because I'm being a twat. I just offered to pay you not to go out there so don't think I'm lying. One day you'll thank me for what I did, even if you don't see it now. Right now you're hurt emotionally and that's no condition to wrestle in. Go find one of them and call it off. If not for you then for Tyler and Trent."

She scoffed as she looked at the ceiling. "See, this is another problem with you! You never want to seem like you're actually caring about someone. You're so worried someone will notice what an amazing person you are that you act like you feel absolutely nothing. It's bullshit! I've seen the real Pete Dunne. The Pete that actually likes to cuddle, that makes sure everyone he cares about are taken care of, even the Pete that sings in the car." He played with the cuff of his jacket as she spoke.

Her eyes went back to him when she seen the action. She was making him nervous? "Just... forget the tape." She told him before walking off. She didn't know why, but the absence of him chasing her hurt. Maybe he really didn't care. "He's right about the match, you know. It's a bad idea to go out there like this." That was a voice that she would know anywhere. "Do you always eavesdrop on our conversations, or is this subject that special? Not a very gentlemanly thing to do anyways, Trent."

The older man couldn't help but chuckle. "On the contrary, I'm doing it for the most gentlemanly reason. I care about you. I care that he hurt you, and I care that he can't see the bigger picture. You're both like family to me. You should know by now that nobody hurts my family. Even if the only thing hurting them is each other. I'd beat the hell out of Pete if I thought it'd help. Which also means that I can't let Jinny hurt you. That puts me in a rough spot. I mean, what am I supposed to do?"

"Remember that I'm sensible and can make my own decisions?" She asked before crossing her arms. Now all three members of British Strong Style had asked her to drop her match. Even if she didn't feel a hundred percent, what would everyone think? She'd look like a crybaby who couldn't step up to the plate. "I know you're normally sensible with your decisions. I also know that you aren't like you are normally right now. You just want to prove a point. You want to prove that you don't need him."

Anger instantly flooded through her. How could he assume that? "Are you fucking serious right now, Trent?! You really think that I'm doing this because of anything having to do with Pete? Really?" She asked. If it was anyone else she would have hit them. "I'm not going to fight with you, sweetheart. I just don't want you doing anything silly, and girls do silly things to show boys they're better. I know it probably feels like everyone's attacking you right now, but it's because we care."

"Of all people, you're the one I thought would understand." She told him lowly. Her anger was turning into hurt. "Just because I understand doesn't mean that I agree. At the very least, and for a piece of mind, let Tyler or I be ringside. I won't do anything to jeopardize the match, but if something happens I want to be there." She could see the worry shining in his eyes. Was it really that bad? "Why don't any of you believe in me? Shit happens all the time, and the nightmares are nothing new."

He cupped her face with a sad smile. "I'll ALWAYS believe in you. I have all the faith in the world that you can do it. That being said I'm also the one who went to the gym with you earlier. You're reaction times are... bad. You also seem focused on all the wrong things. Your whole career is ahead of you, and I'd hate to see it end now. That being said you should drop the match or make things right with Pete. I know both sound less pleasant than getting a thousand paper cuts. Pick your poison."

She heavily sighed before nodding. "So I have maybe two hours to either drop a match that I need or miraculously fix things with a guy that broke me in an hour. Cool. Great." She said sarcastically. Trent chuckled softly. "You always love challenges. Think of it like that. The whole reason you're here is because of tape, right? Let's go get you that tape while you decide what you're going to do." He told her, leading her away. Little did she know that the grand plan was officially in motion.

Pete was still by the back entrance when Tyler found him. "Have you seen your soulmate anywhere? She texted me that she needed tape." He said before holding up his tape. "You must of missed her somewhere. She ran off a few minutes ago..." Pete answered roughly. He completely left out the part where he offered her money and then kissed her. "Shit. Alright. You gonna creep here or come to the locker room? You look like a serial killer waiting for his next victim. It's really offsetting."

Pete shrugged before walking past him towards the locker room. His head was everywhere. He found it funny that he had lectured her for not focusing when he wasn't much better. The younger man couldn't help but smile. Trent was shutting the door when they rounded the corner. Pete didn't think anything about the nod that was exchanged between his friends until he was being shoved through said door. "Fix it!" Trent exclaimed before jamming the doorknob. Pete's eyes met hers immediately afterwards.

She was up in a flash. "This isn't funny! Let me out right now." She seethed, banging on the door. She heard a laugh that was obviously Tyler. "I'm afraid I can't do that. He loves you even though you're kinda crazy, and you love him even if he's a twat most of the time. As a good friend of you both it's my job to make you make up. Sadly you're both imbeciles and it had to come to this." The younger man said. His smile could be heard. "Looks like I'm dying in a locker room." She mumbled angrily.

Pete rolled his eyes as he listened to his friend. Why couldn't anyone mind their own business? He motioned for her to move before harshly kicking the door. "I'll tear this whole place apart. I'll set your fucking gear on fire. Open the door. Now." He kicked the door once more to prove a point. He wouldn't cause any real damage to the venue, but he would cause damage to the personal belongings in the room. They were causing her more pain than necessary. He had done this to protect her.

"You see, I've already thought about that. Which is why I had Tyler take anything of value to us out before we trapped you two. Grabbed a few decoy bags just in case this happened." Trent's voice filtered through the door. "I'll give up the match right now.. just let me out." She said softly. He instantly wished he wouldn't have looked at her. The heartbreak was evident in her eyes. It was different earlier, she was in a wide open space that she could easily run from him in. Now she was trapped.

Pete shook his head stubbornly. "You're gonna be in that match, you're gonna beat Jinny to a pulp, and you're gonna show any doubters why you deserve to be here." He said confidently. Her eyes widened upon hearing his words. What had changed his mind? "I love ya. I know I didn't say it when I should have, but I'm saying it now. In fact that's why I said all that shit that night. I've never wanted anything but for you to be happy. Ever. I can't give you a future you want, and it kills me."

Her breath caught in her throat. She never expected for Pete to actually open up. "What?" Was all she could say. He took the few steps to her and laid his forehead against hers. "I never deserved for you to look at me twice. You're like the light to my dark. I was so scared when I realised I loved you. It's always been random girls that meant nothing. Then there you were soaking wet from the rain looking like an angel. I heard you talking about marriage with your mom, and I knew I had to go."

Almost instinctively he briefly pressed his lips to hers to stop her from talking. If these were truly their last moments he wanted to enjoy them. "You deserve someone who can give you that fairytale you've always wanted. I am definitely not that someone. Watching you crumble in front of me was the hardest thing I've ever done. It made me sick. Seeing you today made my chest hurt. You look so... robotic. You're not glowing and smiley like ya normally are. All because I let it go on this long."

"Pete..." She started only to choke back a sob. He closed his eyes before he continued. "I was selfish. I actually got you and I didn't want to let you go no matter how much it'd hurt in the long run. Then I started asking you to do things that would make it easy for you hate me, like turning on the girls. Except you did them all and stayed. I watched you sleep for the longest time that morning because I knew it was the last time I'd see you so utterly peaceful. You gotta move on, love. Please."

He flinched when he felt her hand run across his cheek. "Show the world that you're more than the British Strong Style poster girl. Show them who you were before I poisoned you. Find someone who worships the ground you walk on and makes you laugh. Letting you go was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I had to do it. Never thought a woman would affect me like this. My heart went with you when you ran away that night." His words had gotten increasingly quieter until they were whispers.

"How are you going to tell me all of this and expect me to just walk away? You're being selfish, Peter." She told him as steadily as she could. This was the last thing she had ever expected. "I'm always selfish, love. Being with you was selfish. Feeling this way is selfish. Wanting you to be happy is the most selfless thing I've done. You won't be happy with me in the long run." He pressed his lips to hers once more. He couldn't help it. Before it could go too far he stepped back. "Be happy."

She violently scrubbed the back of her hand under her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears. "What if I was happy with you? I've felt like a shell for two weeks. Yet all I could think about when I seen you earlier was if you were sleeping right. You look tired. Nevermind the mental hell I'm in, I just cared that you were alright. I begged Tyler to tell me why I wasn't good enough for you that night because that's all I wanted. To be good enough and wanted by Pete Dunne. Why can't we be happy?"

He took a deep breath before shaking his head. Breaking her heart the second time was going to be just as painful as the first. "You're too good for Pete Dunne. I'll drag you down and suffocate your career. I'll start petty fights because me not deserving you will always be in the back of my head. I couldn't even tell you I loved you until today. You're gonna be just fine without me, no matter where you are. And when you find someone who makes you truly happy you'll forger all about me, love."

"Why don't you love me like I love you? Why are you stopping yourself? I literally hit my best friends with a bat just so you knew I'd do anything for you. You let me keep eating meat even though you're so against it. Tell me what I can do to make you see that I mean this. Love me like you obviously want to. I don't care what anyone else says about us as long as I'm happy. I was happy with you. So if you want me happy then let me be the happiest I've ever been again." She sobbed to him.

His breath caught when he heard her words. What was stopping him? He knew she wouldn't just up and leave him. He knew she was honest with her words. "Old habits die hard." He finally settled on telling her. He was afraid he'd get too petty and do something incredibly stupid that would make her hate him. "What's going on in that head of yours?" She asked him as softly as she could manage. Her voice was hoarse from all the crying she'd been doing since they'd been locked in. "You can tell me."

He simply shrugged, eyes avoiding hers. "Pete..." She stopped talking as quickly as she started. In the year that they had been dating she had only seen him like this a handful of times. All of them involving the future. "You're scared." She realised with a frown. "Everyone has flaws, babe. Whatever you're scared of I can help you with, if you let me. I won't judge you. I won't up and leave. It's alright." She told him as she neared him. He couldn't look at her even when she grabbed his hand,

"You helped me cope with horrendous nightmares I've had since I was a teenager. You reminded me to eat when I really didn't want to. Whatever you're scared of... I'm willing to help. You deserve to be loved without fear. Even if I'm not the one you love." She whispered. He chuckled darkly at the words. If only she knew. "It's nothing you should worry yourself with. It's fine." Suddenly he was gone and by the door. "There. Thing's are worked out. Let her go get ready." He loudly stated.

She didn't know what she expected, but silence definitely wasn't it. "Did they leave us in here?" She asked after he knocked without answer. "To be fair they probably thought this would go differently." He mused with a sigh. Her head rested against the wall with a huff. "One of us could be dead and they'd be none the wiser. Great friends we have there." She joked. He chuckled before grabbing his phone. Even from the distance she could tell what was on his lock screen. "You never changed it."

The picture was a fairly recent one that Trent had caught after a long weekend. The two were on the couch fast asleep, Pete's arms wrapped tightly around her to prevent her from rolling off. She could see him stiffen up before sticking his phone back in his pocket. "Pete, I didn't m-" She was interrupted with a look before he spoke. "I wanted to remember what I lost and why I did it." He told her quickly. She held up her phone before he could look away. "I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

He remembered the play argument they had about how cheesy matching pictures were. But she was so excited about the thought that he knew he couldn't say no. "It's my favorite picture of us." She said quietly. He knew it was. She told him constantly. "I'm sorry." Pete said once more without thinking about it. "Yet you won't even try to make this work out." She replied without thinking. His eyes shot to hers quickly. "Because it's been doomed from the start. I'm saving you so much heartbreak."

She stomped her foot like a dramatic teenager. "Who are you to decide that for me? In a year our biggest fight was about the possibility of me being hurt during your matches. That doesn't scream doom and misery to me. In fact it seems really healthy." All at once she realised what his fear was. She was blind for so long. She started talking before he could. "Except your afraid that you'll do something drastic to prove a point. You always have hated being wrong, but I don't see it happening."

"There was a girl at the bar a few weeks ago. Drop dead gorgeous all the way around. If not for Trent I would have got with her." He stopped to take a deep breath. "Not the thought of you finding out, or feeling guilty knowing you were at your place waiting for me to call. Trent physically stopped me from approaching her because he wouldn't let me be that much of an asshole. Do you know why I was there?" She shook her head, eyes on the floor. "Because we were fighting about Travis Banks."

"The night you thought he was hitting on me." She recalled sadly. She had in fact been at her apartment staring endlessly at her phone and eating ice cream. "A part of me wanted him to tell you, because I wanted you to feel how I felt. Like you could lose me. When I told him that he slapped me and took me home. You need someone who doesn't want to sleep with people to hurt you." He told her weakily. Her eyes filled with tears once more. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"But it was only once! You were mad, and drunk, and-" She was cut off by him holding up a hand. "And I can easily do it again. Is that really what you should have to worry about every night I go out? If I'm sleeping with the first pretty girl I see? Because, even to me, that sounds wrong. I didn't want to break your heart." His eyes never left the ground as he spoke. "You can change, Pete. I know that you can. That was obviously the first time you've done that since Trent DIDN'T tell me."

"Love, stop. Stop trying to make excuses for my stupid ass, and start finding someone better. Some things just aren't meant to happen or be fixed. Maybe this is one of them." The tears fell as she slid down the wall slowly. "I don't want to lose you, Pete. We all have flaws and we all fuck up. Please. Just give me a chance to make you happy. Please." She begged brokenly. He crawled over to her and pulled her into his arms against his better judgement. "Don't cry because of me. I'm not worth it."

The feeling of his arms wrapped around her was something that she had missed. "Then stop pushing me away! You deserve happiness just as much as anyone else. I want to be the reason you see relationships are worth it. I want to wake up to your face pressed against the back of my neck every day again. I just want to be yours." Her chest was heaving at this point. He had to stop tears from coming to his own eyes. How had he let this happen? How had he hurt her so bad? "I know, gorgeous. I know."

"Then why won't you let me be happy?" She asked weakly. Pete cleared his throat before he chanced a look at her. He could see half of her tear covered face. Just like that night, he felt his heart break. "I don't want to break you beyond repair. I'm no good." He whispered into her hair. He'd never admit to feeling like he did in that moment. So utterly useless and heartbroken. "You won't. I promise that you won't." She cried into his chest. He tightened his grip on her, not trusting his voice,

She tried unsuccessfully to stop the tears. "Pete Dunne, I love you. I love you like I never have anyone else. Tyler hasn't been able to so much as step outside without me asking if he seen you. I didn't care what was happening to me as long as you were alright. I want you to be alright." He pressed a few kisses to her head before shaking his own. "I'm not, beautiful. Especially after seeing you like this. I love you. I love you. I love you. That's why I made you go. I had to. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry that I made you feel like you had to let me go." She sat up to place her forehead against his, staring into his eyes. He looked so broken. "We can do this. We don't have to hurt. We'll work on your problems and mine. Please, Pete. We'll be stronger than ever. I promise that we can do this." She cupped his face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks softly. She could see the tears in his eyes. "I love you." She breathed. "I love you more than you know." He answered, surging forward to kiss her.

Once air became a necessity they broke apart. "You think you can forgive me?" Pete asked softly. She kissed his cheeks with a smile. "Unbreak my heart, Pete Dunne. Scare all of my demons away and I'll do my best to make yours leave. I'll low blow any guy who even looks at me wrong. I'm yours and I always have been." She told him honestly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He pecked her lips with a hint of a smile. "I promise to do my best to treat you right." Suddenly the door flew open.

A smirk appeared on Pete's lips before she heard a clatter. "Jesus, you two!" Tyler exclaimed. She looked behind her with a questioning gaze. Tyler seemed to be standing against the open door in the hallway. "You realise you share this locker room, right? And we told you we'd open the door eventually?" The younger man asked hurriedly. Suddenly she realised what it had looked like to him. Her face went red before she scrambled off of Pete's lap. "Tyler, you'd know if that's what we were doing.""

A slap echoed when she hit Pete's chest. "Peter! Behave!" She hissed. "You would've heard her d-" Suddenly his mouth was covered by her hand. "He was actually being sweet and gentlemanly. I was crying so he was holding me." She told Tyler honestly. "I feel like I shouldn't ask." Trent said before stepping into the room, Tyler behind him. "So the crazies are back together, yeah? Because when we left it sounded rocky." The hopeful look on Tyler's face made her smile. "You can have your bed back."

Tyler was basically jumping for joy, and she swore that she heard Trent mutter a hallelujah. Pete grabbed her hand with a smirk. "Pete Dunne has his good luck charm back." She joked with a laugh. "I never knew I lost Trent and Tyler." The Birmingham native answered. She slapped his chest once more. "You're such an asshole!" She dramatically stood up. "But you love me." He told her before standing up as well. "So are you still having your match? Or are you gonna drop it anyways?" Trent asked.

She bit her lip nervously. In all honesty she didn't even think she was a hundred percent, but a possible win against Jinny could turn some heads. Before she could even think it all through Pete spoke. "She's taking the match, and we're all gonna be out there to support her." Her eyes widened at his words. "You are?" She asked quietly. He kissed her temple. "We won't interfere unless you ask. Even if you lose. Think of it as us just getting a front row seat to you kicking Jinny's teeth in."

She smiled before looking at the three men. "I'll be honest, I know I'm not at a hundred. In fact if i'm lucky I'm at seventy, but that's not the point. I know that I can do amazing things with my favorite guys out there. Just don't interfere no matter what. I want everyone to know that being Pete Dunne's girl doesn't mean I can't win fair." They all nodded in understanding. "You can do this, sweetheart. We believe in you," Trent said confidently. Pete scoffed. "You could beat her one handed."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks for the words of encouragement!" She laughed. A look at her phone made her gasp. "Oh shit! I gotta get ready!" She yelled. Before she could run away, Pete's arms were around her. "Tape." He whispered in her ear. Tyler took the tape out of his pocket with a laugh. "Got ya covered." She grabbed it with a smile. "Thanks, Tyler. Now I gotta go change" She said with a laugh. "Can I watch?" Pete asked with a smirk. She slapped his chest roughly. "Peter!"

[baelorfinn]

we were in screaming color

Pairing: Finn Balor x Becky Lynch

Description: In which soulmates are a thing and you see color when you’re near them bc i was bored at work lol

N/A: Guys i don’t even know. 

She sees a flicker of color as soon as she enters the gym and spots the blue mats, or she thinks its called blue, and for a split second she thinks maybe she's in love with wrestling. Fifteen year old her doesn't really understand how it works, you can't be in love with something, it has to be someone. She meets him a few seconds later and suddenly her world is so bright she has to hold on to her brother's arm. He's introducing himself as Finn and flashing them a crooked smile. Becky grins back happily, almost jumping out of her own skin. She can hardly wait until her brother is done introducing himself to stick her hand out and introduce herself. She swears the colors are more vibrant for a split second before she has to take her hand back. As her first day of wrestling school comes to an end she's positive she's one of the unlucky people that love someone that doesn't love them. While she's a bundle of nerves and smiles, he keeps his cool the whole time, no trace of having just met his soulmate. Becky tells herself it's okay, she's there to wrestle not fall in love. 

She thinks maybe she is his soulmate whenever she catches him wincing at a bad bump she takes, but then again he's just that kind of person. They've known each other for months now, and he's never once made her believe that she was his one. It's not until almost one year of knowing him that she realizes that maybe he's just good at hiding his feelings. Maybe she's been to caught up in her own feelings that she'd never noticed the small things. Him watching her with pride on his face when she mastered a move, or how he always made sure he was near by when she might need him while still keeping his distance. But really it's a phone call she hears that makes her blood rush to her face and nerves to flutter in her belly. She only catches the "She's seventeen" that she knows he's talking about her, even though technically she’s not seventeen and he just thinks that. Making her footsteps louder so he has time to wrap up his conversation, she walks towards him, bright and a little too early for conditioning. 

The color doesn't ever really fade completely, but it does fade in vibrancy. It's like having him in the back of her mind when she's not around him, and being surrounded by him when she is. He's so so angry the first time she sees in shades of grey again. He's standing in front of her, hands on his hips and a look in his eyes that tell her she's in trouble for lying to him for so long. And even though he's standing in front of her, physically okay, she has a brief moment of panic. She's heard of stories of people seeing in grey again and she doesn't want that kind of heartbreak. She doesn't think she can handle it. It's only when she sees the flash of guilt in his eyes that she realizes he has so much control over his emotions that he can shut her out. Finn knows that she knows when he takes a step closer to her and she flinches away from him. Her eyes filled with tears and her hands shake in sadness or anger, she doesn't know. "Bex-" he pleaded with her. "I'm sorry." And suddenly her world is filled with color once again, his arms wrapped tightly around her shaking form. Becky presses her face against his neck, her tears staining his shirt. "Don' ever do that again, Balor." she hiccups. 

She cries for a whole hour when he tells her he's leaving, and he holds her for just as long. Wrestling is both of their dream and she can't fault him for leaving to pursue better things. She doesn't ask him to stay, or to wait for her. And neither does he. But their unspoken words speak louder than any words they could say and so does the kiss he places on his forehead when he leaves. 

She's seen in grey for the last few years that she doesn't know if she even remembers what color looks like. It all comes flooding back when she's in the ring and suddenly she sees exactly how bright Bayley's attire is, how beautiful Sasha's hair is and how pretty her best friend looks in blue. Becky had heard the rumors around the locker room. Whispers of someone that sounded just like her soulmate. She'd refused to acknowledge them, not wanting to get her hopes up. Despite swearing they would stay in touch when he had left, they hadn't actually tried all that hard. Their careers were both taking off at the same time, and then Becky was retiring. Now they were both in the company, and it feels a little something like fate.

She doesn't have to see him or even hear him to know he's in the building. Everything is more vibrant than ever, and hes surrounding her. She's drowning in color and she almost cries at the sudden happiness. Bayley is looking at her in confusion, but Sasha and Charlotte are looking at her with knowing smiles. They think she's the last one to meet their soulmate but that's because she never bothered to tell them she's known her soulmate since she was fifteen and pretending to be older. 

She's jittery throughout the rest of the day, and the girls tease her whenever someone walks through the door, always disappointed when it's not the new guy they'd all heard about. At the end of the day Becky lingers at the center for a little longer than she usually does, a permanent smile on her face as she finally spots him. "Fancy seein' ya here." She begins to walk towards him. He's smiling back at her and she drops her bag to throw her arms around him. He watches her easily and they both take a moment to revel in the bright colors they can see within one another. "Missed ya a lot nerd." She tries to say the words flippantly but her eyes are swimming with tears and she's smiling wide. He's returning her smile and pulling away from her to get a good look at her. Twenty seven year old her is a lot less shy than eighteen year old her and so she gives him a little twirl, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He blushes and she laughs at the look on her face before looping her arms back around him. 

There isn't a day since he's joined NXT that she doesn't spend time with him. He's fallen into the role of coach and best friend easily enough. Spending time with her after their actual training to go over her move set and making fun of her need to be perfect even though he has no room to talk. It's like everything is the same as it was before and Becky doesn't know how to approach the subject of them. So she doesn't. Instead she puts a smile on her face and pretends she's okay with being just friends. The girls continuously try to broach the subject but she deflects with puns and jokes on the subject. Talking about it makes it more real than it already is. Like maybe she is doomed to have a soulmate that doesn't love her like that. 

Sometimes when they're out painting the town red with their group of friends, she catches herself staring longingly at him. Sometimes she catches him but those times are few and far between. It's like her mind is playing tricks on her. This time she definitely knows his eyes are following her as she dances against one of the locals, red hair tumbling down her back and a drink in her hand. She knows it's wrong to use the man to catch Finn's attention but she doesn't have it in her to care too much about it. It's not until the guy she's dancing with goes to get a drink that Finn makes his appearance, possessive hands gripping her hips and pulling her against him. Her heart is beating so hard against his chest that she swear he can heart it and the lights of club almost hurt her eyes with how bright they are. "I thought you didn't dance." She teases, without turning around to face him. "I don't." He replies, turning her to face him. Looping her arms around his shoulders, she sways against him. "C'on Balor I'm trying to get laid here." She wonders how much she can push him before he breaks. "I don't cock block you do I?" Becky thinks that must do it, as his arms tighten around her. And suddenly he's all around her, colors flashing almost with a red tint. She thinks maybe she pushed him to hard when he ducks his head down, lips on her hair and a whisper on his lips. "You're mine Bex." His words don't hold any kind of teasing and her heart all but explodes. "Yours." She agrees as though she's been anything but for the last twelve years. "You're mine too." He places a kiss against her neck and she has her answer. 

They don't talk about it. But there's little moments between them. Little moments that let her know that he's hers and she's his and when it's their time they'll be together for real. Sometimes he'll hold her hand or brush a kiss against her forehead. She lives for moments like those and she knows he does too. 

Becky's always thought she would have to make the first move. He's too Finn, too honorable to try anything. She's fresh off her loss to Sasha and maybe he's still feeling the adrenaline from beating Tyler when he kisses her. She doesn't reciprocate right away and it takes him pulling away from her to fully understand what he had done. He has a blush on his cheeks and he's stuttering out an apology for overstepping when she starts smiling. "Can you shut up now? I'd like to be kissed sometime this year." He's still looking at her with a blush on his cheeks that she's the one that steps closer to him and plants one on his slightly parted lips. For a moment she's worried it was all a fluke but then he's wrapping an arm around her waist and tangling the other in her newly dyed orange curls.

She's convinced fate hates her when she gets called up to the main roster and he doesn't. Finn spends a whole day assuring her that things wouldn't change between them. Not when they've only just gotten together. And for the most part things are exactly the same. Expect for the days everything is gray and she forgets what blue looks like. She's gotten better at controlling her emotions that sometimes she catches glimpses of color. Nothing is quite like when she's in Florida or NXT is on the road with them. 

They've gotten past the presence that they're not completely in love with each other that it's kind of a little ridiculous that they still have separate homes in Orlando. Becky moves in on an exceptionally sunny day and she makes him watch her set things up while he nurses a hurt ankle. "Hey." She looks up from where she placing her clothes in one of the drawers to find him grinning at her. Arching an eyebrow at him she waits for whatever he was going to say. "I love you." Is certainly not what she expected but she beams at him. Practically jumping over to where he was sitting, playing with his newest lego set, and sitting carefully on his lap. "I love ya too."

[type2diabetestreatments-blog]

MannKind Sponsors New Diabetes Reality TV Show, 'Reversed'

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/mannkind-sponsors-new-diabetes-reality-tv-show-reversed/

MannKind Sponsors New Diabetes Reality TV Show, 'Reversed'

In what appears to be the first-of-its-kind, a new reality TV show focused specifically on diabetes will be airing this summer on the Discovery Life Channel.

Created by celebrity chef Charles Mattocks, a type 2 himself since 2009 who happens to be a nephew of the late great reggae music legend Bob Marley, this new "docu-series" features five PWDs (people with diabetes) with both type 1 and type 2 aiming to change the way they think about their health.

What makes this even more unique and intriguing for our D-Community is that it's also a first in bringing on a diabetes industry player as the sole sponsor. Yep, California-based MannKind Corp. that makes inhaled insulin Afrezza, is the sponsor of this reality show, which will include featuring the company's late founder Al Mann on the TV show's website. We'll get into those details in a moment, but first let's have a look at this upcoming show itself.

The kicker is the show's name, Reversed.

(insert PWD sighs and eye rolls here)

OK... We totally get it what a controversial concept that is in our Diabetes Community -- invoking all kinds of baggage related to "reversing" and "curing" diabetes, the T1-T2 distinction conflict, and all the medical science debates over what we know and don't know about diabetes overall. But before you tune this out based on the name alone, we urge you to take a step back and keep an open mind.

As D-peep and show creator Mattocks says himself:

"This show is about people with diabetes who will change their lives -- emotionally, physically, and spiritually. It's not so much about reversing diabetes, as it is about changing one's lifestyle and attitude, changing who we are as people, and bringing out the best in all of us."

Meeting Charles Mattocks

First off, it's important to know about the man behind this show. Here's a quick intro:

Aside from his family connection to Marley, Mattocks is known as 'The Poor Chef' for his love for cooking affordable, healthy meals. Through the years, he's been featured in films (like the 90s movie Summer of Ben Tyler with James Woods where he played the title character) and on TV ranging from CNN to the Dr. Oz Show and The Today Show. After his T2 diagnosis in 2011, Mattocks began touring the world to meet and interview people with diabetes globally, taking on a range of D-advocacy roles from becoming an International Diabetes Federation Blue Circle Champion, to helping write an ADA cookbook, to producing The Diabetic You documentary film, and even developing a gluten-free chocolate snack dubbed the "Charles Bar."

He's certainly done quite a lot, and while his brand of advocacy may not be everyone's style, you can't argue that he's really made some waves in the diabetes world over the past six years, leading into to this new show.

Really, Diabetes Reality TV?

Yup, Mattocks describes it as a docu-series reality show that is "part of his journey." Take a look at this video promo just released in late April.

To be clearn, this is not the first time a reality TV show has dabbled in life with diabetes -- from the MTV TruLife episode back in 2012 that featured three T1 PWDs, to a T1 teen mom, and the American Idol competition in 2015 featuring Adam Lasher, a T1 nephew of Carlos Santana. Apparently, even rap legend Dr. Dre (who lives with T2D himself) has been talking about creating his own D-related reality show, given his complication-ridden T2 that's led to him losing his vision.

But Reversed does appear to be the first national reality show 100% dedicated to diabetes and its management.

What you'll be watching is five PWDs in a house surrounded by beaches and palm trees at the Milbrooks Resort island retreat in exotic Montego Bay, Jamaica.

The idea for Reversed started taking shape three or four years ago, with some early teasers and promos aired back in 2014 with a completely different set of PWDs featured. As his own D-advocacy and personal diabetes story evolved, Mattocks continued looking for partners, and late last year got what he needed to bring this dream of his to life.

He's now teamed up with MannKind Corp. as the sole sponsor, began production early this year and just wrap up this past month, to start final editing before the show airs in July. The introductory season will feature 10 episodes.

We're urged not to think of this as a competition-style reality show, like Survivor or American Idol where someone's voted off at the end of each episode. Mattocks remains a bit coy on exactly how it will play out to avoid spoilers, but he says pretty much everyone will finish the way they're supposed to -- by achieving some health milestones, or just learning more about about how they can best care for themselves.

Mattocks says he thinks of it like recipe-sharing -- you see a dish that looks good and add that to your repertoire, and maybe by sharing it more widely you can inspire others to adopt some of the ingredients into their own lives -- whether it's better BG testing, healthier eating or exercise habits, or just changing how we think about life.

The show will feature a host of experts: cooking and diet professionals, a diabetes educator who lives with type 1 herself, and a yoga instructor and other health professionals to handle the more "offiical" medical issues covered.

What About the Term "Reversed"?

“When you look at the definition of ‘reversed’ in the dictionary, it’s about slowing down the physical progress of something. That’s what this is," Mattocks says. "When we talk about where (the show participants) were when I first met them to where they are now, they have reversed the direction they were going – not necessarily diabetes, but they've turned around how they think about themselves. To see them do a 360-degree reversal of where they were, that inspires me.”

Hmmm. So it's a philosophical reversal they're after?

“Yes, we’re seeing a reversal in mindset, that’s what it's about. We get caught up on that word, and it’s really holding us back and hindering us from where we could be. Because it’s not about reversing diabetes at all,” he says.

Certainly an interesting train of thought...

In a recent podcast, Mattocks talked with three of the PWDs who participated in thes show -- two type 2s, and a T1 who just started on Afrezza after being on the show. Interestingly, during the 15-minute podcast, the trio talked about how they didn't expect the show to be as life-changing as it was, helping them acheive better D-management and health habits. One of the T2s named Jerome said it's "exactly what he needed" to change his mindset and since the show's production wrapped up, he has not only lost weight and felt better, but with help from his doctor he's managed to dramatically cut down his insulin intake and other medications.

They all agreed the show wasn't keyed in on or overbearing on messages of weight loss, low-carb or plant-based eating, but rather about finding what works best for each of them in making healthier choices. The T1, a woman named Felice, spoke on the podcast about her 43 years with T1D and how she was "heading into the deep hole of D-burnout" before going on Reversed, and since then she's been able to change her attitude and perspective. She started Afrezza in mid-April, which she says has translated to only one basal injection per day instead of seven multiple daily injections, fewer hypos and much more stable BGs.

These personal PWD accounts were certainly very convincing that the show has merit.

Beyond this introductory season, Charles is pondering future options -- a live-recorded version, celebrity cast, and even going beyond diabetes into other health conditions.

"We think we have something special here, and we do think we're going to be changing lives," he said.

Sponsored by Afrezza / MannKind Corp.

As noted, MannKind is currently the show's sole sponsor, so they get fully play, including a display ad on the show's website with an image of the late Alfred Mann, who created the company and passed away in early 2016.

MannKind's Chief Operational Officer Mike Castagna tells us that as sponsors, they have no involvement in the show's development or content. While one participant will be using and demonstrating Afrezza on the air, that wasn't a requirement and was not even intentional product placement.

Castagna says they've created a storyboard for a commercial -- something that show coordinators say will be 1-minute long, rather than 30 seconds as the FDA usually mandates for pharma ads. (We mentioned this in our recent coverage of MannKind's wish to become "the Uber of diabetes.")

Whether this helps MannKind's business with Afrezza is anyone's guess. But you can't fault the company for thinking outside the box here.

Castagna recognizes that the word "reversed" is controversial, particularly when you have celebrities such as Halle Berry and Drew Carrie who've used that word to essentially claim erasing their disease. He says it's clear that diabetes can't be erased, and it's about educating the PWD masses on management basics.

"How many shows focus on diabetes? I can't think of any," Castagna says. "We have shows focusing on plastic surgery, emergency rooms, on pain, but there's nothing out there like this to raise awareness. That's why it's important that somebody does something, and why MannKind is sponsoring this. We can debate the word 'reversed,' but I don't think that's the right debate to be having -- even though I wouldn't argue it shouldn't be used. But the debate should be why we aren't we raising awareness about achieving better health outcomes? That's what I hope comes out of the show."

Hopes, Fears and Reality (TV) Checks

It's an interesting concept and we're certainly going to check it out this summer. Will the show really be educational? Or will it just serve to fuel misconceptions? We're a bit nervous about exercise and eating themes that can turn into blame for PWDs about why we don't all just "reverse" our diabetes with simple lifestyle choices.

For his part, Mattocks isn't worried. He's convinced it will be all positive reinforcement.

I think to be able to open that door and explain all of this is a benefit for the public that just doesn’t understand diabetes. That discussion is what we want. Charles Mattocks, T2 celebrity chef and creator of "Reversed"

Meanwhile, our team is rooting for Afrezza to do well on the market; Amy and I both currently use it, so we're making no bones about the fact that we think it's a good drug that can help many PWDs.

If all goes well, this show could be a win-win for everyone. We shall see...

It deserves a chance, if nothing else. So keep an eye on your TV listings this summer, D-Friends.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 83

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​

The call comes shortly before four in the morning; the shrill ring and the incessant vibration of the phone against the nightstand startling him awake. Tyler groans at the intrusion; annoyed by the abrupt end to what had been an uncharacteristically peaceful sleep. Insomnia had settled in their first night in Dhaka; rattled by the ongoing threats against his family and the turn to the very place  where he’d nearly lost his life. Seven years feels like seventy some days; given reprieve when the memories don’t creep up for weeks, sometimes even months on end. Yet there’s times where it feels as if it were seven days ago; vivid recollections of the taste of his own sweat and blood, the smell of gunpowder and spilt gasoline, the cries of the wounded and dying. It’s been years since he’s had what he considers a decent sleep; five to seven hours without being disturbed by pain or bad dreams or being woken by a crying baby or little ones climbing into bed alongside him.

 While it only been three hours since he and Esme had returned upstairs the short period of rest that had preceded their love making had been the deepest and most restful sleep in recent memory.   The day’s roller coaster of emotions finally caught up to him; initially channelled into languid and gentle -and ultimately desperate- sex. The realization that it may very well be the last time they would physically enjoy each other fuelling the need; hands and mouths working together to fully worship and pleasure one another before giving in to the act itself. Moving slowly inside of her at first; long, soft kisses being exchanged as her hands roamed his shoulders and back and travelled down his arms.  Those huge, dark eyes and her legs wrapping around his waist and heels digging into the small of his back signalling that she needed more from him. WANTED more. And he’d obliged; repeatedly driving into her with near brutal force. Thrusts that pushed her further up the bed and had her crying out in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort; teeth sinking into his shoulder and nails breaking the skin as they raked down his back and over his ribs. Enjoying the way his name sounded coming from her mouth; whether it be the whispers and whimpers or the begging and pleaded and eventually the cry of her released.  It’s always been her favorite thing to hear, even outside of sex. The way it sounds when she’s giggling while he teases her or when it’s sleepy and slightly disoriented after he’s woken her up after falling asleep on the couch.

He can remember what it had felt like when she’d said it for the first time; in that cramped and dirty hotel room in the city centre. Since their initial first meeting at that old shack in the outback, she’d been calling him by his last name; a habit picked up in both the military and her time on the job. First names are usually abode; too personal considering the unpredictable circumstances and the very short time you’re actually in someone’s life. But in that moment...in the heat of an intense argument between two severely obstinate people...with his hand around her neck and those dark eyes -stoic and unnerved- staring up at him, everything changed.

“Admit it,” she’d snarled. “For the right price, you’d leave me AND the kid behind. Admit it, Tyler.”

It was the first time she’d said it; his first name. And it had caused something inside of him to snap; that stubbornness and assertiveness and those eyes his complete undoing. It had been years since a woman had made him feel that level of want and need, and despite the rational side of his brain screaming at him to walk away, he’d given in. His hand still on her throat as he kissed her with a complete loss of control he’d never exhibited with anyone else. Spurred on when she’d so eagerly responded; unable to stop things from progressing even further. Taking her right there up against the wall, pounding into her with punishing thrusts that were fuelled by years of anger, guilt, and regret.  And that little body had taken everything he’d unleashed on it; hands tightly gripping his hair and her legs wound around his waist. Encouraged by the way she begged and pleaded for ‘more and ‘harder’ and the way his first name suddenly couldn’t stop tumbling from her lips.

After that, she never called by his last name ever again. And he’d have to stop himself from smiling every time she said his first. It sounded THAT good.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he reaches over his wife’s still, sleeping form and snags the phone before it can go to voicemail. There’s that brief moment of panic of late night calls while on a job; someone getting a hold of him to say that something to one -or all- of the kids. The tightness that forms in your chest and the way your heart hammers wildly. But the relief is instantaneous at the sight of Yaz’ name on the screen. Although it brings a whole host of other emotions with it.

“Yeah?” His greeting is simple. Voice laced with the lingering remnants of sleep.

“Be ready to go in three hours.”

“That was fast.”

“Guy I sent to try and get eyes in Asif’s place had other ideas; decided to go a different route. Grabbed one of the street thugs and beat the shit out of him and threatened to blow his knee caps and his dick off if he didn’t tell him where Neysa and Aarev are.”

“And he rolled over on his buddies?”

“Guess he really wanted to keep the family jewels. You were right; it IS a storage facility. One that hasn’t been in business for a while. About ten minutes outside of the city centre, going west. Sent my guy there to check it out; three separate buildings. They’re being held somewhere in the centre one. Sorry I couldn’t narrow it down any further.”

“I’ll work with whatever you give me. How many hostiles  on site?”

“My guy counted six. I was able to get some surveillance set up; I’ve only seen ten at the most. Not too bad, right? If you can take out a whole apartment of assholes…”

“I’m not the man I was back then.”

“It was only seven years ago. Not seventy.”

“Tell that to my body.”

“You gonna be alright?” Yaz asks. “Think your old bones can handle this?”

“It’s not my bones I’m worried about.”

“If you can’t mentally do this. I’m not going to hold it against you. If you think whatever is left of your sanity won’t hold up...”

“I’ll be fine. In and out, yeah? Sounds like a pretty straight forward extraction. Not too many hostiles to deal with, a pretty open space, we’re away from the market area. What could possibly go wrong?”

“You know better than to ask something like that.  It was a good call on Esme’s part; going north. Not a single damn roadblock that way. They’re expecting trouble to come over the Buriganga.  That’s why they’ve shut the bridges down. I’ll drop you guys off just north of Dhaka; there’ll be two SUVs waiting.”

“How far back into town?”

“Twenty minutes. I'll be waiting at the extraction point. By the time anyone realizes what went down at the storage place AND get there, you’ll already be on your way back. We’re going to cause a big old thing on the Sultana Kamal Bridge.”

Tyler grins. “Big old thing, huh? I’d expect nothing less from you, Yaz.”

“Got a couple guys coming to pick the three of you up. Seven. You good to go?”

“I will be.”

“I’d expect nothing less from YOU. See you soon.”

“Yep,” he confirms, and then disconnects the call and returns the phone to the nightstand and rolls  over onto his back. He groans  at the discomfort in his shoulder and across the small of his back, then rakes his hands through his hair and runs them down his weary face.

He doesn’t move for several minutes; a forearm draped over his eyes. Finding himself oddly calm; long ago relegating himself to both the seriousness of the mission and his chances of getting out of it alive. The latter has improved with news of location and the number of hostels; with Koen and Rata and Anil’s two men, there will be more than enough bodies to handle everyone on site. A large indoor space will be much easier to navigate, and provides more places to grab cover if needed. He much prefers working in that kind of environment; having more room to move and not feeling as he’s being confined and suffocated. While everyone assumes the apartment seven years ago had been easy, it had in fact been one of the harder take down’s he’s ever done. There’d been a lot of people in that little space, and he’d had to work quick and with whatever items were at his disposal once he was unarmed.

Tyler moves back onto his side; sliding closer to his wife’s sleeping form and wrapping an arm around her, hand settling on the small -but very visible- baby bump. The fear is there; that this is the last moment of this kind he’ll get to spend with her. That worry that he’ll never again experience that soft, supple skin pressed against his own or breathe in that familiar scent. That he won’t get to see her grow bigger with child. HIS child. The way her body changes and she becomes even more beautiful and desirable; the extra weight and curves and the way her face fills out and seems to glow. She’s never seen herself the way he does, especially while pregnant. And she could never understand how incredible she actually is; selflessly giving her body in order to nurture and protect a life that he had a hand in creation.  He never thought it was possible to love someone more with each passing day. That devotion that grows impossibly stronger when she watches her as a mother.

Esme stirs. Giving a long, content sigh and then pressing herself back against him; hand slipping down to briefly rest on top of his. Her fingers grazing along his own and then over his wrist and across his forearm. Her touch is soft and deeply intimate, and the quietness and the innocence surrounding it profoundly affects him; tears pricking his eyes and his throat and chest tightening with emotion. When her hand once more settles on top of his, he pushes his fingers through hers and holds as tightly as she can stand. It’s desperate; all of his fear and his worry communicated through something so simple.  And for several minutes neither move nor speak his eyes closed and the top of his nose pressed against the back of her neck.

“How long?” she asks.

“Three hours.”

“That was fast.”

“It was,” he sighs. “Way too fast.”

He’d thought he had more time. That it would take Yaz at least half a day to mobilize his teams;  to get eyes into Asif’s place and scouts sent north. And he’d planned on spending every remaining waking moment with her; doing whatever it took to make sure she knew exactly how much he loves and worships hers. Words have never come easy to him; often lost on what to say past those three simple -yet profound- words. The last thing he wanted -of the worst case scenario came into play- was her being left with doubts surrounding how he felt about her. Actions are easier for him; those small, thoughtfully little gestures that always bring a smile to her face. And he’d thought he’d get that chance; an opportunity to show her just how -and what- he feels. Three hours will feel like three minutes. With a deadline like that, he’s suddenly at a loss; not knowing  if there’s any words or actions that could ever truly communicate how much he DOES  love her.   How thankful he is for the second chance he’d been given seven years ago. And how he always thought they’d have more time together than that.

“How much do you have to do to get ready?” she asks.

“Everything’s ready to go. There’s nothing I need to do.”

“So we can just lie here like this? For a little while?”

“For the next three hours if you want.”  He raises his head from his pillow and presses a kiss to her temple, then her ear and her cheek and finally the corner of her mouth.

Releasing the hold on his hand, she rolls over onto her side to face him and slides even closer to him, settling her cheek on his pillow. The tips of their noses touching and their mouths mere inches apart, eyes locked. He tries not to notice the tears that sparkles in hers; the way she chews on her bottom lip as she struggles to control her own tsunami of emotions. He manages a small smile and presses his lips to her forehead, allowing them to linger for several seconds before pulling back to look at her. Eyes slowly scanning her face as calloused fingertips trace the burrows in her brow and move across the tops of her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose; travelling along the outer edges of her hair and across her lips.

“Don’t go,” Esme whispers. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to.”

“Let someone else do it. You don’t have to do this. It doesn’t have to be you.”

“It does. You know it does.”

“I thought I was prepared for this; that I was ready to see you walk away. But I’m not. I’m nowhere near ready. Please don’t go, Tyler.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises, and kisses the bridge of her nose before gathering her into his arms; pulling her flush against him with one hand on the small of her back and the other at the nape of her neck. “It’s alright,” he whispers, and places a series of feathery pecks across her shoulder. “I’m right here. I got you.”

The tears come now; loud, heartbreaking and gut wrenching sobs that shake her entire body and he feels to his very soul. All of those emotions pouring out of her; feeling the hot, bitter drops against his skin and the way her hands desperately clutch at his upper arms and the back of his neck. Even when things had been their darkest and their hardest, she’d never control to that extent. There’s nothing left to say; no possible words that could bring her comfort. Instead he lets her cry. His eyes closed and his lips pressed against the side of her neck;  a palm sliding up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her. There’s little more he can do; no promises he can make or words that will lessen the severity of what lies ahead. No snide or humorous comment that will bring a smile to her face. It’s way beyond anything either of them have ever experienced; a fear and uncertainty that no other job has ever brought with it.

Eventually the sobbing subsides; transitioning into light whimpers and then a silence that’s occasionally interrupted by soft sniffles.

“You alright now?”  Tyler asks when she pulls away. The hand that was in her hair now moving to her face; fingers clearing the remaining tears off her cheeks and the sides of her nose. He hates seeing her cry no matter what the circumstance. Especially when he’s the reason behind it.

“Not really,” Esme admits. “But I will be. When this is over and you’re back here. Safe and sound.”

“Hopefully it won’t be an all day thing. Sooner I’m out of there, the better. Last thing I want is to get trapped in the city. Didn’t go so well the first time.”

“This time you’re not doing it all alone. Or least you’ll have people watching your back. I could only do so much, and Ovi was just a kid. You pretty much had to carry the entire thing.”

“I think you totally underestimate how much you actually did.”

“I know I slowed you down. A lot. I know that you’d just listened to Nik…”

He pecks her lips. “We’re not going to talk about that. That’s the last thing I want to talk about.”

What DO you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. You have any more dreams?”

She nods. “A good one this time. A very good time.”

“About what?”

“About when we got married. How nice you cleaned up; suit, tie, the beard all trimmed.”

“I was going to cut my hair too. But I figured you’d be pissed off enough to turn around and walk out.”

“I so would have left you at the altar if you’d done that,” she teases. “That was the one thing I asked you not to do; cut your hair.”

“I will never understand your obsession with it.”

“It’s just how I know you. It’s how it looked when we met. I guess it’s just what I’m used to. I’m sure one day I won’t mind if you do something different. But I swear to God, if you ever ask me shave it off again….”

“I know it broke your heart the first time. I won’t do that to you again. Maybe I’ll keep the hair and shave the beard off.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warns, and presses a kiss to his lips. “Do you remember the morning after? The hotel in Byron Bay?”

“I vividly remember that morning. And the night before.”

“I don’t mean THAT. Although, THAT was pretty incredible. I remember thinking afterwards that it felt different. In a good way. An amazing way. Because now it just wasn’t my boyfriend or my fiance or whatever making love to me. It was my husband.  I don’t know; thinking about it that way made it seem different. Is that weird?”

“No. It’s not weird.  I remember watching you sleep and thinking ‘that’s my wife’.”

“You did?”

“Seemed surreal; my fake wife now being my real one. Especially after I said I’d never get married again.”

“After Mark, I told myself I’d only go for girls for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, it’s easy to see why he ruined all men for you.”

“I guess it just took a certain man to change my mind.”

“Yeah, one who could put up with all your shit.”

“I didn’t come with THAT much shit. You came with enough baggage for both of us. And I still didn’t run away. Maybe I’m the glutton for punishment.”

“Maybe,” he grins, and kisses her.

“But do you remember that morning? We had breakfast out on the balcony. And it was so nice out; it wasn’t too hot and the sky looked amazing and the way the sun shone on the water…” she sighs. “...it was like I woke up that morning and everything seemed even more beautiful than before.”

“I remember you had your hair down; the sun was making all the red in it sparkle. And you had that on this pink shirt that was off the shoulder and tied at the middle of your back. You were already showing pretty good with Millie; I remember thinking there was no way you could possibly get any more beautiful. And I remember wondering what the hell I’d ever done to deserve my life; a new wife, a baby girl on the way. You were really talkative and giggly that morning.”

“I was a newlywed. It was my honeymoon. And you’re the bringer of multiple orgasms.  We should go back there; stay at the same hotel. A little getaway.”

“We can do whatever you want, baby.”

“What I’m going to say next is probably going to sound sappy. Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“It’s really sappy. Like really, really, REALLY sappy.”

“Try me.”

“I remember watching you and seeing the ring on your fingers and thinking how good it looked on you. And I was the one who put it there. I remember thinking ‘I have a husband now’ and it felt really good to think it. And it felt even better that it was you I was thinking it about. Is that weird? That I thought that?”

“No, baby. It’s not weird. It’s not weird at all.”

“And I know you don’t think it sometimes, but you’ve been an amazing husband,” her voice quivers with emotion and tears once more sparkle in her eyes. “I know things haven’t always been easy; that I haven’t been the easiest person to be with. That I’m tough to love sometimes. But you’ve been the one person I can count on; who makes me feel safe and protected. And I guess I just needed you to hear that. That there hasn’t been a time I didn’t love you.  Even when things were shit, I loved you. Even when we didn’t know if we were going to make it or not.”

“But we did. We DID make it.”

“Seven years is not enough. And I’m scared that if you leave…”

“Everything’s going to be okay. In and out, right?”

“Nothing’s ever that simple.”

“Maybe this time it will be.”  He brushes her hair off her forehead. “Maybe this will be the one time things don’t go to shit.”

“Maybe. But I wanted you to hear all that. About how amazing you’ve been. About how much I love you. I didn’t want you to walk out here not knowing all that.”

“I’ve always known. I’ve never doubted it. Have you? Ever doubted it?”

“How you feel about me?”

Tyler nods.

“No. You’ve always made sure that I know. Even if you don’t say it, you’ve always found a way to show it. And I see the way you look at me sometimes; you think I don’t notice, but I do. And I can’t describe it; what it looks like. How your eyes and your face look.  I just know how it makes me feel when I see it. It makes me feel beautiful and incredible and...I don’t know…loved.”

“I’ve always loved you. I always will. I need you to know that. Just in case. I need to know that you know.”

“I know. I’ve always known, Tyler. I knew on the bridge. I knew before you did. It was in your eyes. It’s always in your eyes.”

“I have a confession to make. About seven years ago.”

“Uh-oh. I don’t know if I like the sounds of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. It’s just…it’s about the first time. In the hotel room. When I grabbed you.”

“When you tried to choke me out, you mean?” she lightly teases.

“I wasn’t angry. I mean, I was. I was pissed off that you didn’t listen to me. But I wasn’t THAT pissed off. That’s not why I did it.”

She combs her fingers through his hair. “Okay…”

“I was trying to scare you.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared. Because I liked the way you smiled at me. I liked the way you’d always find a way to touch me. I liked the sound of your voice and the way you laughed And I hated that I DID like all of that. I didn’t want to like it. I didn’t want to like YOU.  So I tried to scare you away. Because I didn’t want to feel anything else for you.  Because everyone I’ve ever loved? I’ve lost. And I didn’t want that happening. Not again. That’s why I did it. I wanted to scare you away.”

“Were you surprised? When it didn’t work?”

“I think it made me even angrier. Because you wouldn’t let me get away with it. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to protect you. From me.”

“There was nothing to protect me from, Tyler. You’re not the monster you think you are. You never have been. And I saw you; the real you. The one you hide from else. There was nothing you could have done to scare me away.”

“And to think you call me stubborn.”

“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. But you're also the sweetest. And the most adorable.”

He frowns. “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry. You are. You have a huge heart in that big body of yours. And you may have been able to hide it from everyone else you’ve ever known, but you’ve never been able to hide it from me. And I love that about you; you’ve never felt a reason to hide it.  You’ve always trusted me; right from the first night in Dhaka. When you told me about Austin. You let me see all sides of you. Even the ones that aren’t so pretty.”

“Don’t call me pretty.  Or adorable. Or cute.”

“I don’t care what you say. You’re the most adorable mercenary ever.”

“How DARE you insult me like that.”

“I love you,” she says, and pushes his bangs off his forehead. “I only hope one day you’ll know how much,”

“I already know. And I love you. So much. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You. Us.  My kids. My life. Everything.”

She manages a shaky smile, then breaks down once more. Both arms circling his neck as she buries her face in his shoulder. “Can you just hold me? That’s all I want. Just hold me, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, then drops a kiss on the top of her hand and wraps both arms around her. As tight as he possibly can.

*****

Three hours later she finds herself standing on the front porch, watching as the last of the needed gear is loaded  into the trunks of the ‘getaway’ vehicles. Despite the stifling heat and oppressive humidity, she can’t stop shivering; the fear and anxiety so powerful it creates a damp, cold sensation that stretches from head to toe and seems to burrow into her bones.   It’s nearly a hundred degrees outside and she can’t seem to get warm. Not even with the fleece lined hoodie she keeps tightly wrapped around her.

Every time he leaves for a job it’s difficult; the uncertainty of the situation, the possibility of things going wrong, the potential for serious injury or even death. Normally she’s more optimistic; refusing to let doom and gloom settle in despite how dangerous a mission sounds. But this is beyond anything she’s ever experienced before; aside from seven years ago. How fitting that it’s the same place that carries such a heavy weight; the vivid and brutal memories of the past making it nearly impossible to envision a different outcome in the present.

“How are you holding up?” Koen inquires, as he joins her on the porch. A tactical vest slung over one shoulder, backpack perched on the other.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“You know me; I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Usually that means a red head with daddy issues,” she teases.

“You’re way too quick for me, you know that? I see how you keep him on his toes. Although I don’t think he stands a chance against you.”

“He’s been a good sport. He hangs in there for some reason. He’s been sticking around for seven years. I’m just hoping he’ll stick around for at least seven more.”

“I don’t think he’s going anywhere. I think he’s a little too crazy about you.”

“Yeah,” she smiles, and pulls the sides of the hoodie even tighter around her. “I’m pretty crazy about him too. Which is why this is so damn hard. I thought I was ready; that I’d be okay when the time came. But I’m not okay. I’m far from okay.”

“Just hang in there a little while longer, kiddo. You’ve come a long way already; be a shame to break down right before the finish line. Your man’s got this; he knows what he’s doing. Smart as hell. Even if he does do dumb shit sometimes. Has a knack of getting me into trouble, that’s for sure.”

“He appreciates it. Koen; everything you’ve done, everything you continue to do. You backed him right away; when he showed up at your place and told you about the business. And you didn't think twice about helping him when all this started. You just agreed to it. Knowing how bad it could get.”

“Well, as much as I shit talk him, I really do love that drongo. I’ve got a soft spot for him. And you and the littles. How could I not? You’re the one who made him who he is now.”

“I know you’re totally overestimating my role in his life.”

“You’re the one who gave him a second chance. Saw past the mess he was.  Made him a husband and a daddy again. You’re the one that’s stuck by him through all the bullshit; the booze, the meds, the job. And I know damn well he’s not the easiest person to love.”

“Well he’s made it pretty easy for me. Even at his worst, he’s better than most.”  

She watches Tyler as he finishes the last of the preparations before heading out. Standing at the open tailgate of one of the SUVs, quiet and focused despite Rata attempting to carry on a loud and animated -and most likely nervous- conversation. His eyes are darker and the furrows in his brow are present; lips set in a thin, grim line as he works at filling the pockets on the vest he already sports.  This is the old Tyler; the one that’s all business with adrenaline coursing through his veins and his instincts and senses running on overdrive.

“You know, I used to like seeing this side of him,” she says. “I used to love it, actually. Seeing the mercenary side of him. Intense, focused. I liked knowing what he was capable of. Now…” she sighs. “...well I don’t like it so much now. How sad is that? What kind of wife would even think that, let alone say it? How horrible am I?”

“One that loves her husband and hates what’s happening to him. You’re not horrible. Let’s cut the shit and stop pretending that this time isn’t different; that the stakes aren’t a lot higher. Has he ever walked into something where someone  was intentionally looking to kill him?”

“Not that I know of. Not since I’ve known him.”

“Hard to like anything about a situation like this. Considering what he’s about to walk into?”

“I can’t even believe it got this far. That Mahajan went so far off the deep end that we’re actually at this point? How did this even happen? It’s been seven years! Saju is dead, why would he still want revenge on his family? And to threaten mine? We took Ovi in; we gave him a life. A real life. A real family. We love him like he’s our own. And this is how Mahajan repays us? Threatening my children, putting a bounty on my husband’s head? How the hell did it ever get to this?”

“Some people are fucked,” Koen reasons, and she gives a small, dry laugh. “I wish I had a better explanation. But it’ll all be over soon. We’ll take care of shit here, Anil will handle things with Mahajan. He’s ready to go?”

“As far as I know. He’s got a couple guards he was able to pay off. They’re going to lead him right into the showers when Mahajan is in there. It should be over pretty quick. If you ask me, he deserves something slow and painful. But beggars can’t be choosers, can they.”

“Sooner it’s over, the better.”

“Should have been over a long time ago. If we’d been told about this when it all started, Tyler would have ended it then. But Ovi dropped the ball and then Allison and her games and I just…” she sighs and tucks wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “...a lot of people fucked up. And now my husband has to go and fix it. What else is new? Just watch out for him, okay? Have his back? Please.”

“You know I will. I’ve followed him this far. Might as well go balls to the wall.”

She struggles to hold back a flood of tears. “Would it be too much to ask that you bring him back in one piece?”

“You got it kiddo.” He draws her into a tight hug and presses a kiss to her temple. “Hang in there, okay? We’re almost there.”

“You be safe,” Esme says, and affectionately pats his cheek when he holds her at arm's length. “It’s kind of nice having grandpa Koen around.”

“I never said you call me that.”

“I don’t remember asking your permission.”

“Smart ass,” he smirks, then playfully tousles her hair before stepping away. Giving Tyler a nod and a small smile; patting him on the shoulder as he takes his place on the porch.

“I can’t look at you,”  she says, as her hands busy themselves tightening the Velcro secured straps on his vest. “If I look at you, I’ll cry. And the last thing you need is me crying right now. I can do that when you leave.”

He places his hands on the side of her face, then presses a kiss to her hair.  Neither of them speak; their eyes closed, his chin resting on the top of her head, her hands tightly gripping his forearms.

“Be safe,” she pleads.

“Always.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I wish that was enough; to get you through this”

“It’s enough,” Tyler assures her. “It’s always enough.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, and she finally raises her head to look at him. “I won’t ask. I know you don’t want me to.”

“You ask, and I’ll do it. I’ll stay. And that’ll just bring even more problems.”

“I know.  I know why it has to be you. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“It’s going to be alright.”  He cradles her face in his palms and kisses her. Longer and more intense than usual. “I gotta go,” he moves a hand to the back of her neck and places a kiss to her forehead. “See you when I see you.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He pecks the tip of her nose, then runs a hand over the top of her head and down her hair before stepping off the porch.

“Hey!” she calls to him, and he stops and turns towards her.

“Remember the first time around, when we said we were going to travel when we got out of Dhaka?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You totally bailed on me. I think you owe me a trip, Tyler Rake,”

A grin plays in the corners of his mouth. “I definitely do,” he says, and then turns and heads for the waiting car.