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jadeee · 1 year ago

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Golden Frame

After your date at the art museum, Nanami shows you how much you mean to him.

Word count: 2.6k

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Author's Note: We can call this a self-insert...

Music played softly in the background as Nanami drove towards your date destination. You looked beautiful, as always. He was enjoying your company, as always ... but something felt different. His eyes were still on the road but every now and then they glanced over to your bare legs in the passenger seat. It was the first time you wore a skirt. A soft crease formed between his brows while he crafted theories in his mind. When you were looking out the window, he glanced at your lips... no lipstick. He faced forward with knitted brows but the crease softened at the sound of your voice.

"Do you have a favorite art piece?"

"... actually, I'm not sure ..." he answered half shocked, "I haven't been to an art museum in a while so I look forward to going."

"Really?! This is one of my favorite places."

"That makes it all the more special."

He wanted to reach over and take your hand in his but he recalled how nervous you were the last time you two were together. Alone and on his couch. More importantly, how you seemed to shrink into yourself when his hands reached for your hips and how you kept repeating "I'm sorry, I can't,". He prided himself on being patient, when it mattered, and you mattered to him; so, he simply smiled at you instead.

Your eyes scanned the room and took in the large golden frames, various sculptures, and prints on the wall. Nanami happily followed you to the first thing that caught your eye. The two of you spent the next few minutes walking near each other, only to lean over then whisper about the artwork you were studying.

"How do you think they do it?"

"With patience and practice." he silently repeated the words to himself.

"I have an idea,"

The golden haired man faced you. Oddly enough, he looked like one of the men in the paintings in that moment. Strong and stern with a hidden softness that only the artist could capture.

"Why don't we split up and meet back here in thirty minutes? We can show each other our favorite piece."

"Okay," he nodded then watched you start to walk off.

You walked along a glass pane which held a large painting toward the center. He followed your every step on the opposite side and a smile blossomed on his face whenever you glanced back at him. When you reached the end and saw he wasn't there, your smile shrunk. However, our love drunken fool was standing in the center of the painting, watching the scene unfold. When he thought about it, he felt light like a Monet painting. As his eyes scanned the artwork on the walls, he couldn't help but see your face.

You were standing in front of a sculpture when he approached you from behind.

"Has it been thirty minutes already?"

"No," he slid his hands in his pockets "I just couldn't resist."

The soft laugh that came from you filled his heart. He read the title card of the sculpture, Psyche Revived By Cupid's Kiss.

"Are you familiar with their story?"

"I am. You kind of remind me of him."

The corner of his lip turned up, "How?"

"You hide yourself sometimes ... at least until you trust others."

He looked forward and tried not to smirk at your well thought analysis.

As you two stood side by side once again, you felt his fingertips brush against your hand. Without hesitation, you took them in yours.

Your heart beat faster as you crossed the threshold. He helped you out of your jacket then set aside your purse while you took off your shoes. The wheels turned and creaked in your mind as he offered you a drink. You responded with your choice of poison before making your way to the couch - where it always started and ended. Kento's shoulders dropped slightly when his eyes landed on you sitting on the couch. He studied your frame as he handed you your glass. Grateful for the liquid courage, you quietly thanked him and hoped it would ease your anxieties.

Too nervous to stay still, you rose to your feet and studied what little art Nanami did have on the wall.

"Do these mean anything?"

He stayed in his seat "No, not really. It's just for decoration."

"Hm ... If you did have art with meaning though, what would you have?" you faced him with a playful smirk.

He sipped his drink to hide the effect you were having on him. "Well," he stood then walked toward you "Psyche revived by Cupid's kiss."

"Oh, you're just saying that because we saw it earlier."

"No, I'm saying that because it means something to me."

When you felt his hands hold your face, you backed into the table behind you.

"What's that?" you held his gaze.

He pressed his lips against yours in a soft and tender kiss in response. His body felt warm as your hands finally held him for the first time that night. Within minutes, you ended up where you always do on nights like this: the couch, his couch, with him hovering over you and your fingers starting to comb through his hair when you say,

"I cant, I'm sorry." you cover your face.

His hands pressed into the couch cushion.

"What's wrong?" his hands gently pull yours away from your face, "You can talk to me."

Your eyes dart to the wall then back up at him "I'm just a bit ... embarrassed. I try to control myself around you but I can't."

A soft smile showed on his face "You don't have to."

"I know but ... I don't want to get my hopes up and it doesn't last." your eyes flicked up at him "Us, I mean. Not the sex." You chuckled nervously from the simple misunderstanding and covered your face again.

He smiled to himself as he pulled your hands down again.

"Hi."

You grinned, "Hi."

He cupped your cheek in his hand, "Why are you so nervous all of a sudden?"

Your heart skipped a beat when he continued to caress your skin as you tried to find the words.

"Because I don't know who I am around you. It's like I become this whole other person..."

His hazel eyes noticed the softness and slight fear in your eyes paired with the small sound of your voice. The softness coupled with the ounce of fear and the hope that he'd understand. When he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and felt you grip the sides of his shirt, he suppressed a moan.

"You're my girlfriend," and possibly my wife, he thought to himself "and there's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your side."

Your lips faltered when you tried to respond but he saw the tears form in your eyes and only saw fit to wipe them away.

"I'm your what?"

"You're my girlfriend," and Mrs. Kento - in - waiting, he planted a kiss on your forehead.

His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth which was stuck in a shocked grin, "What?"

"Nothing... it's... we haven't had that talk yet and I didn't know..." you ended the sentence with a chuckle.

"I should've made it more obvious," Nanami gave you another gentle kiss then got up from the couch. He grabbed your glasses and headed toward the kitchen "We can talk if that's what you wa--"

It took everything he had to not drop the glass cups when you tugged on his shirt and pulled him toward you in a kiss. The two of you held onto each other as he walked backwards to the nearest counter top and set the glasses down. You let out a loud laugh when he picked you up unexpectedly and carried you to his room.

His kisses started out sweet and innocent but with each second he spent holding you, gripping your skin, you felt his hunger. It'd been a while so you couldn't blame him. Plus you were wearing that skirt. Not to mention, the way you purposely left those top buttons undone on your blouse. He was hovering over you again, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck when he confessed "I lied earlier when I was talking about my favorite art piece. It wasn't that painting I pointed out. It's you."

Despite the compliment and the sincerity behind it, he saw the slight doubt in your eyes.

"You're gorgeous and no picture can ever fully capture that."

You smirked and laughed.

"You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that," you sat up slightly and he moved to give you some space.

"What is it then?"

You tilted your head as you mulled it over then nodded "Okay, maybe I don't believe it."

Although you tried to play it off, Nanami still had that aura of stern softness on his face.

"Would it help if I show you?"

A smirk showed then and you felt something you'd only felt on lonely nights; yet this time you weren't alone or lonely. Your nod gave Nanami the permission he needed and so desperately craved. Despite his seemingly insatiable appetite for you, he moved with a slow, passionate deliberateness. His tongue pushed into your mouth as his hands wrapped around your torso, with his legs straddling you so you didn't have anywhere to go. He wanted you all to himself. He wanted to cherish you. He wanted to treat you like art, a masterpiece. Careful, slow and steady, meticulous.

His mouth worked down your neck and made a short visit to your chest. Your breath picked up as his kisses continued downward, slowly peeling away the layers that were between you two. His eyes looked up at you when he slipped off your skirt. A small smirk rested on his face when he saw your brows go up and mouth part slightly in anticipation.

The soft kisses on your inner thigh elicited a moan from you. The sound alone was enough for him then but he wouldn't stop. Not because he wasn't satisfied but because he wasn't done worshipping you yet. Your noises filled the room as he licked, nipped, and sucked on you. When your hands gripped at his hair, he moaned and you felt the hum move throughout your body. He pushed his tongue deeper to get more of your taste.

"Na- Ken-," your thighs started to close in on him but he didn't budge. When you started to push him away, he felt conflicted. He decided to pull back slightly, "Do you want me to stop?"

"I-" you moaned at your ongoing orgasm and he gently rubbed at your bud.

"Fuck, Nanami." you whined softly as you pressed your head deeper into the pillows.

His fingers moved in a slow circular motion as he inched closer to your face "Do you want me stop?" he asked again softly then put his mouth on your nipple. The feeling of his tongue going over your flesh gave you goosebumps.

"N-no," you stammered with eyes shut.

"Are you sure?" his fingers moved a bit faster at your bud.

You started to pant and nodded helplessly. He smiled at the scene then kissed your cheek, "I won't go easy on you." His fingers slipped inside of you effortlessly as his mouth attached itself to your bud once more. You cried out and gripped his hair which made him grunt... which made you cum... which only made him push his tongue deeper into you.

You moaned then moved against his mouth. He wouldn't admit it but he was already thinking about wedding bands in his head then. When you came on his fingers, he pulled them out and replaced them with his tongue.

"I can't take it!" you clutched onto his sheets which you perfectly ruined as soon as you two started this little dance. He pulled back for a short moment only to say "Yes, you can," he kissed your bud "you're doing so good."

"Nanami," you whimpered as he continued to make out with your cunt. He wasn't satisfied until you started to climax and even then he wasn't done.

Moments later, he was pounding into you, gripping the headboard in one hand and holding yours in the other. At one point, you both heard a crack but didn't pay it any mind. He was kissing your face and neck until he started to reach his own climax; when he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder and grunted repeatedly. You were already on your umpteenth wave of ecstasy by then. All you could do was clutch onto him and that was enough.

This must be what it's like to feel at peace, Nanami held you in a warm embrace. The last few minutes consisted of you two being like this. Holding each other, drawing imaginary lines on skin, and smiling whenever you looked into the other person's eyes. The only difference was that his smile remained even when his eyes weren't locked on yours. He couldn't look away and he didn't want to, even if it did seem creepy.

You noticed the soft look on his face, "What?"

"I'm just admiring you, that's all."

He didn't expect you to say anything back but he was grateful for your small smile.

"I was going to wait but I think now is a good time."

You watched him with raised brows as he reached for something. He handed you a postcard which had your favorite piece of artwork on the cover. You took it in your hands then flipped it over and read his handwriting on the back:

Truly beautiful but I can think of something better.

When you looked at him, you saw the sparkle in his eyes.

"Thank you."

He held your face in his hands and kissed your forehead.

Normally, he'd be making coffee by now but he decided to indulge himself. Besides, how could he leave you in bed alone? He didn't want you to wake up and think the worst. You could talk a good game but you were the nervous type. He traced the curve of your brow lightly with his fingertip and chuckled when you crinkled your nose.

When you did wake up, he was there, ready to greet you with a soft smile. You were half awake and only heard the word 'breakfast' to which you just nodded. He chuckled to himself when you held onto his hand as he tried to get out of bed. A gentle blush spread across his cheeks as he sat down by your side again.

"Take all the time you need." he rested his lips against your forehead for a brief moment then caressed your cheek, which would become a daily habit. With your eyes still shut, you took his hand in yours and kissed it, tucking it under your chin as if it were for safe keeping. Nanami found himself moving closer to you so you could rest your head in his lap.

After a few minutes, he reluctantly left the room to cook breakfast and so you could get more rest if need be. Soon the smell of whatever he was making woke you from your dreams. You held your hands behind your back as you stepped into the kitchen. When he faced you, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks at the sight of you in his shirt and boxers.

"Do you have to work today?"

He leaned against the counter as he took in the view of his favorite artwork "I can be a few minutes late."

Later, when his colleague asked why he was late, Nanami simply responded "I had some important business to tend to."

Author's Note: Just when I thought I was done writing for Kento, I come up with this. He really does smthn to me 🤧anyway, thanks for reading! As always, reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated 💓

p.s.: i think the painting he would've picked as his favorite would've been something like a house on a hill. he yearns for tranquility {and domesticity} so a simple painting like that would tug at his heart strings.

#madebyjade #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento smut

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klausysworld · 1 year ago

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Hii, I love your work <3, it's so good

I was wondering if you could do a Klaus x reader when Klaus is reader's psychologist or therapist and he knows all her shit and falls in love with her (I'd even like to see some jealousy from Klaus because reader always chooses men who treat her horrible and he tries to be professional about it but in the end he can't, he kind of thinks he would treat her better (even in the sexual part))

Which would hurt more?

Klaus had been seeing his client Y/n L/Y/N for a few weeks now, once on a Sunday and again on a Thursday for an hour or so each time depending on his schedule and if he could push other clients back to hear her.

He knew he probably shouldn’t have a favourite patient but despite most of their conversations being on rather traumatic or emotional topics, he looked forward to seeing her and listening to everything happening in her day to day life as well as her past.

He enjoyed seeing her progress and helping her to understand her own feelings. Even if he mostly listened and offered advice that he knew she wouldn’t actually use.

So there he was already waiting on his chair with the door open for her to come in while he got the past session notes out. His lips turned up as he heard her voice ring from the hall

“I’m so sorry I’m late Dr Mikaelson, I got caught up” she explained, through heavy breathing as she rushed in and closed the door before going to her usual choice of seating opposite him.

“Not an issue y/n, and please call me Klaus” he smiled at her and she quickly mirrored it as she dropped her bag and brushed the hair out of her face. “So, how was your morning?” He questioned while clicking his pen

“Well- okay so last night I was out with this guy right? Whatever, stayed the night at his but then woke up and I was like shit. I’m on the other side of town, no car, lost my keys, the dick took my cash from my purse and disappeared before I woke up and I couldn’t find my phone anywhere so I had to find my own way here without any money. Ergo I ran cuz I woke late and I’m just behind on everything, you?” She rushed out in one long breath leaving him speechless for a moment before glancing to his empty page.

And then began a long session about her decisions, how she got to them, how she would do them differently and why she thinks she chooses then more often than she’d like.

See Y/n seemed to do this a lot. From what Klaus could tell, she frequently allowed random men to use her body only to feel awful about herself after. He assumed it to be her own version of self harm, abusing her body to try feel better for a moment.

Problem was she didn’t see it that way, and he knew she planned to keep doing it. And although he had many suggestions, he couldn’t exactly tell her what she can and can’t do.

But he could be there for her and try to help her find a better way to her future.

And over time, he managed to see some change in her behaviour. She got more self aware and was able to move past some of her childhood trauma.

The problem with her being self aware was that she knew what she was doing and it was only upsetting her more each time she had to tell him that she’d done it again.

And although he hasn’t ever hugged a patient in the past, he couldn’t help but comfort her as she cried for nearly the entire session. It was his main mistake.

Having her in his arms felt too good for her to be just a client. Being able to smell her hair as her face nuzzled his neck was delightful and in that moment he wished they were stood in his their own house, under entirely different circumstances and together.

Of course once she pulled away and sniffled her ‘thank you’ back to him, he snapped out of it and cleared his throat to try and push away his thoughts.

And from then it only got worse.

One hug became many over the weeks, until she was greeting him and leaving him with a cuddle each time.

And then the dreams kicked in, he knew he could treat her so much better than any other and he loathed every man who took advantage of her vulnerable state. He just wanted to have her as his, to hold and love her like she deserved.

Of course he tried to shove his thoughts away when he actually saw her but then she began wearing more intriguing outfits. Revealing and suggestive clothing that surely drove his mind mad.

His eyes would shut and his lips would part as her breasts pushed right up against him and she hummed with her lips by his ear. Klaus couldn’t help his mind wondering to the idea of having his face between said breasts, hands squeezing and fingers pinching. He couldn’t help glance down for a second as they pulled away to get a peek at her cleavage and when he looked back to her eyes he knew she knew and that made it harder.

Months went by and he found himself waking up with her name fresh on his lips, cock up and solid, sweat coating his body as he groaned aloud and pulled the blanket off his body only to sigh in defeat at the cum that already covered his abs.

She made it difficult to concentrate on anything she was saying now that such a rich red lipstick painted her lips each day, his note book became more and more blank each session and he seemed to find himself picturing her in all sorts of positions as she told him about another imbecile she slept with. God he just wanted to have her beneath him, head back as she screamed his name and forgot about every fool she had ever been with before.

And when she kept coming to him upset or hurt both physically and/or emotionally by another boy…he couldn’t stop himself from snapping and telling her she needed to stop abusing herself which caused a heavy silence to hang over them.

She had cleared her throat and pulled at her jacket to hide her breasts that she had originally wanted on display for him.

And that’s when he realised that he was another person who she though would use her and leave her. She wanted him to hurt her.

He stood up slowly and moved to sit beside her on the couch she were on, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, he rest his chin on top her head and sighed through his nose

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry y/n” he told her

“It’s fine, you’re right” she whispered but he could hear the crack in her voice and it hurt his heart.

He kissed her temple tenderly and helped her onto his lap which probably wasn’t his finest idea but he did so nevertheless. His hand gently rubbed up and down her arm as she bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to not cry again in front of him even though it was what he was there for.

“I never mean to upset you sweetheart” he murmured, tucking some of her hand behind her ear

“I’m sorry” she whispered and he frowned

“No lovely, never be sorry, it’s my job to listen to you. I was very out of line…” he thought for a moment before his brain gave him a brilliant idea “how about we do something to cheer you up? You like sweet things don’t you y/n, how about we go to the cafe just down the street?” He offered

“Is that allowed?” She asked quietly, of course she wanted to spend time with him and she had purple been trying to get his attention but now she was getting it, she worried that it would hurt his career. He was a highly recommended psychologist and she wouldn’t ever want to ruin his reputation.

He hesitated for a moment before sighing “probably not no…but I’ll go get you something and bring it back okay? You happy to wait here?” He leaned back to see her face as she turned to him.

“Are you sure? I’ll grab my purse so-“

“Nonsense love, It’s my version of an apology” he hushed her as he stood “just stay here, snoop if you must and I’ll be back shortly” he kissed her forehead before leaving.

It was an odd situation to be in, her psychologist holding and kissing her and buying her things to make her feel better.

She thought she’d seduce him, fuck him and then he’d have to let her go as a client and she’d be on her own again. But he didn’t take her against his desk and then throw her out, he kept looking out for her, taking care of her and being kind. It was bizarre and everything in her argued on whether she should run or stay.

She wasn’t sure which would hurt more. Staying, falling completely in love with someone she knew she wasn’t allowed or running away from the only good thing in her life at the moment.

She was never great at decisions and Klaus knew that.

Which is why he wasn’t overly surprised when he got back with the cakes in his hands only to find that she had left only a note as a sign she had once been there.

He placed the food down and sighed, he shouldn’t have left her alone. He didn’t know what he was thinking anymore. He just knew that she was important to him now and he needed to find her, sooner rather than later.

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ms-oswald · 11 months ago

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paper heart | sihtric

author's note: just a little something i had in my back pocket for a while - a kind of fluff(?) simple one-chaptered modern!sihtric fic. thank you to @itbmojojoejo for being my second pair of eyes 😘 Hope you will enjoy :) happy holidays! lots of love & stay safe 💕

The room was bland; the walls were painted white, a soft gloss apparent, and the fluorescent light shone with grip from the ceiling. The only window present was held with bars, offering a mundane view of the empty yard.

Where she sat, patiently waiting, she stared at the clock - round and intimidating, the numbers carved in rotation as the needles made passage with every dropped second.

She took in a deep breath, her presence at the back of the room forgotten while her eyes settled on the four bodies that sat on the other side, papers and pens resting on the table in front of them.

They were quiet, waiting.

Her gaze then shifted to the guard standing alert at the door, the entrance closed.

She had been waiting for this day for weeks, having first known about it when the letter came into the mail; the header had caught her off-guard, the content of the invitation surprising.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened where the guard held the knob, pulling it over towards him to let the newcomer in.

He walked in quietly, chained from his wrists to his waist down his ankles.

He looked around the room, no words yet escaping him; his gaze caught sight of the parole board sitting at the front of the room, the barred window, the ceiling light - the bulb almost blinding him - and then, his eyes settled on an unknown female figure.

She met his stare, her heart’s beat increasing bit by bit with every ticked second. She grew anxious, her fingers fidgeting on her lap against the fabric of scarf. She then ran them through her hair - freshly cut - as she fixed her new bangs and coiffed her locks to properly rest around her shoulders where the soft colored waves scratched against her blazer. Dearest Liliann wanted to look presentable for him, and so what better way than to pass by the hairdresser for a new do.

A silent ‘hello’ passed across her lips as they curved into a soft smile, all in the hopes he would recognize her despite never officially having encountered each other face-to-face.

He was gently pushed to take a seat in front of her, making him face the board as they prepared. She couldn’t help herself but place her sight on him still, her hues tracing the broad shoulders covered by his jumper, up to the braids that covered his sides and top of his head as they pulled his curls back, resting right at the nape of his neck.

“Sihtric Kjartansson. Please rise.” Within his silence, the man in question rose back up to his feet, calm and collected.

The man at the center of the table was going through Sihtric’s file, recounting the crime he had committed and the consequential sentence he had eventually met.

The convict remained still, while trying to listen as the board’s words floated at him.

Only when he was made to sit back down did he snap out of his thoughts, her name was spoken through their lips.

“We’re calling on a character witness, Liliann-”

The woman of the hour; she jumped up from her seat at her name, interrupting the introduction. “Yes, h-hi your honor-s.” Standing up, she was clutching at her scarf the way her nerves were grabbing her with might. The older man eyed her for the second, almost having been startled at her sudden appearance.

His gaze went back to the file that stood in front of him as he went on. “We see here you have been corresponding through letters with prisoner Sihtric Kjartansson over the last four years.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sihtric couldn’t help but smile, the right side of his lips curving softly at her nervous stature while holding himself to not chuckle so loudly. He couldn’t turn around fully and see her but hearing her speak brought him a sense of ease she had been carrying through her pen since they met. Only today did he find out what her voice sounded like, and he cherished it already, the tonality of her sound calming him.

“Then speak.” The man asked, inquisitive and skeptical as his gaze bore through her. “Do you believe he is ready to rejoin society?”

She worked on her posture, hoping that the tension she felt in her knees would stop her body shaking slightly from her nerves. She swallowed whatever saliva she had in her mouth and looked back at the man straight in his eyes.

“I am confident he is ready. Sir.” She glanced quickly at her friend before eyeing back at the board.

“Sihtric is not a bad person. He has just been dealt with bad cards…” She tried formulating her next words, careful to keep her calm. “H-he had an upbringing that no child should have to ever go through. I-I mean his father was a notorious criminal, a m-monster. He was in self-defense mode, protecting his loved one, a-and his mother-” She breathed in as she quieted down, her emotions slowly getting the better of her.

“He was put in a horrible position that gave him no way out.” Another exhale, her knuckles whitened against her scarf. “Sihtric deserves a second chance. He shouldn’t have to pay any longer for circumstances that were beyond his control. I fully believe that, if his circumstances were different, better even, he’d be living a regular life and not barred by this justice system.”

A woman at the table intervened, curious at the visitor’s words. “You sound distasteful.”

“I am.” She had jumped with her answer, not having realized her response until a second later. Her eyes wide, she recuperated herself just as quickly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

She sighed once again, her eyes averting to Sihtric before looking back to the board.

“You left a criminal on the streets for years as he terrorized everyone who crossed his path. He murdered countless people - his own wife included - and yet was never arrested for his crimes? And then, Sihtric, who did us a bloody hell of a favor, by the way, gets taken away for acting in self-defense. I’m sorry, but this was beyond unfair what he went through. And I believe this man right here didn’t deserve such treatment.”

She dropped her head, gathering the last of her thoughts on the manner, her pulse racing against the clock. She lifted her eyes back up, watching them. “I haven’t known him for long, but I know him well enough that he’s not dangerous nor does he pose a threat to society. H-he is deserving of a second chance…”

Sihtric’s heart pounded between his ears, her words having carved themselves into his bones as shivers ran down his spine. He took a quiet breath, his head down and eyes closed, as he turned away to face the board again. He took them to heart, yet a twinge of uncertainty nestled itself comfortably in the darkest corner.

The board eyed her, slightly taken aback by her words. “Thank you for this…” The man in the middle cleared his throat, his eyes averted back to the file. “Insightful speech. You may sit down.”

She slightly stumbled as she took back her seat, her palms sweating from her sudden lack of control.

An eerie silence hung in the air; tension crawled up the walls to hover over the people in the room.

Liliann tried to slow down her breathing, her pulse increasing by the second. Though it felt like time standing still, the hands of the clock were moving at an unbearably slow pace.

But they turned and turned, Father Time forcing patience onto them.

‘Dearest Liliann, you deserve to know the truth of what I have done. But first, I need you to know – in the event you decided to cut ties with me – that it has been a pleasure knowing you and writing to you. I have been here for two years now and ever since we ‘met’, you have made my stay more bearable; your letters brighten the grim time I have here. Yet, how can I complain when I am the cause of my own undoing?’

She lost track of time as she waited outside, leaning against her car. The cold breeze added colors to her cheeks as she melted under her scarf, her arms crossed over her chest with her coat protecting her from the lightly grim weather.

The thoughts swirling inside her mind had left her to fall away from the moment; she was racing on a stand-alone track, directionless.

For the last four years, she had only ever written to Sihtric, had only encountered him through pictures. And now, just a few minutes away, she would finally be physically standing close to him.

She would be lying to herself saying that she wasn’t nervous. She had thought about that moment for so long, the multiple scenarios she had built in her head could fill a library.

Palpitations ran their course, a gentle smile coating her lips when her sight was finally granted with his presence.

He was making his way out as the gates opened and paved the way to his tethered freedom; the man was free, the board having passed their judgement, though he remained on parole.

The chilled air had hit him with a whirlwind, the clothes he wore not enough to protect him. He added a spring in his steps as he approached Liliann, growing anxious the closer he got. He had his right hand holding his thin layered jacket as closed as possible, while his left had been holding onto a couple of bags the prison had given him for his possessions; clear plastic to display his belongings.

He grew nervous, not truly knowing what to expect for their first physical encounter. It hugged him, the estrange feeling resting across his chest.

Reaching her at last, she stood up with her arms dropping as her hands found shelter in her coat pockets. “H-hi.” She stuttered her greeting, gently growing timid at the sight of him.

“Hi.” The small grin graced him, his voice reaching the air around her for the first time; her heart quickened its pace within that second, having stumbled on its walk when the tone of his words came to her.

A gentle awkwardness crept its way in between them; it was not unpleasant but had still brought them uncertainty.

She couldn’t look away from him, the gears in her mind churning loudly as she tried to find something to say. He stood still, the weather suddenly becoming a second thought as his gaze settled on her, taking in her appearance – from the way her dimple carved the right side of her cheek, the soft bangs tickling her eyelids where the rest of her hair covered her ears and were mounted on her scarfs and highlighting her hues, to the cupid bow atop her lips inviting him for a taste. He was holding his breath, staring at her as if to take her in, afraid that all this was unreal, a simple ruse.

Lost for words, they could only exchange a nervous chuckle until she pushed herself to finally speak up, trying to push passed the blush heating her cheeks.

She went with the only route she knew by heart. “This would’ve been much easier if I had written something down.” Her sense of humor was something he had only been able to read; hearing it for the first time, he laughed at her remark and the sound warmed her, enjoying the way it tickled her senses. “It’s finally nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

The exchange remained clumsy, their bodies shifting to either a handshake or a friendly embrace; Sihtric decided then to take the first step and leaned towards Liliann as he wrapped his arms around her.

She followed him, her hands resting on his back and had hoped he didn’t hear the pounding in her chest. “How are you feeling?” She spoke into the wind, hiding her nervousness.

He pulled away just enough not to be completely out of reach with his head tilting downwards to look at her. “Good- It’s strange, but a good kind of strange, I guess.”

She tried not to pay close attention to their proximity, shying away from the softness of his eyes until she noticed a faded scar on his right cheek. Her hues stuck to the mark, she had reached out for it, lightly tracing it with her fingertips. In return, he remained quiet, watching her as the gentleness of her caress left him shivering.

It was when she met his stare again that she realized what she was doing. She quickly pulled away, flustered. “S-sorry.”

He smiled, a small tug on the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.”

“It’s the medic in me.” She quickly wanted to give him an excuse, not wanting him to believe she was an intrusive person. “I have to have insight on all the cuts and bruises I come across.” She shared a nervous laugh, a small chuckle - a gesture he reciprocated. He touched his own cheek, nonchalantly. “It’s just something I got from one of the inmates. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at his words, worried, but had decided to let it go, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

She took a step back, ready to offer him a ride when she noticed the contents in one of the bags he had been holding; she recognized the pastel-colored envelopes and her heart soared. “You kept them…” She was in awe, touched that he held onto the letters she had been sending him over the years.

He scratched the back of his head, budding timidity hovering around him. “Of course, I did.” He gave her a smile as she took the bag in question. Examining what was inside, she then noticed a polaroid stuck between two envelopes; she recognized it as the one she had sent him - a simple one she had taken with her cat. Her brows creased at the sight, in slight shock.

“Wait, you kept this as well?” She lifted her head up to him as she spoke.

“I did. It was my proof you were real...” The softening smile graced his lips as he took a glance at the photograph, his eyes lingering as a subtle sharp twinge nudged him in the corner of his chest. “It’s a pretty good picture.” He softly mentioned under his breath; she blushed, trying to hide her embarrassment as she rubbed her nose from the cold. “Really? I was horrified after I sent that- It's like, the second I sent out the letter, I got my senses knocked back into me!” She caught a chortle in her throat, her hands to her cheeks in a mortified look. “I mean look at it! I made my cat wear a knitted suit! That I made! It’s horrifying!” He shared a chuckle with her at her response, amused at the exaggeration she was committing. She then caught her breath, the curves of her lips falling, her teeth biting the bottom instead. “To be honest, I thought I would’ve scared you off or something.”

“You didn’t... You can say, these kept me sane...” The smile he wore was heartwarming, entrancing. He meant his words, his declaration of their friendship wearing him like silk.

She was touched, not expecting such sincerity though kindness was something she knew him for.

She sucked in a breath, wanting to change the subject.

Her hands back in her pocket, she twirled quickly to look at her car before turning back to Sihtric. “Want to get out of here? If you’re a bit peckish, we can go somewhere to eat.”

He nodded at her suggestion, not denying the need to taste civilian food again. “I can have a bite to eat.”

She invited him to her car as he made his way towards the passenger side. He was about to reach the door when she spoke up again. “Oh! And don’t mind the noise the car makes. It goes away once it’s starts moving.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking perplexed.

She went on, having seen the expression covering his face. “It’s completely safe, I promise!”

He let out a snicker and shook his head as he went to open the door. He struggled, not being able to complete the task even by force. Liliann was about to get inside when she saw him. She ran to him, her nervous laughter singing in the back of her throat again.

At his side, she guided him. “You just have to give it a little push, a kick, and voila!” She succeeded, happy her trick still worked while also relieved the winter hadn’t done any more damage.

Sihtric stood bewildered, taken aback by the complex steps that were needed to simply enter the hatchback. “Have you thought about bringing it in to get it fixed?”

She smiled back at him, the grin wide across her lips. “But then my sweetest Volks will lose all its charm!”

He laughed at her words – her perky personality was a natural boost, a shot given to him straight for the serotonin. It had been just a few minutes, and he already did not want it to stop.

Once they settled inside and buckled their seats, Liliann plopped in her keys into the ignition, ready to go as she attempted to turn on her engine. It took her a few tries, leaving Sihtric to be worried about the state of her car.

She turned her head to him, reassuring him with all the conviction she could muster. “It would be weird if it didn’t do that at all.”

When finally lighting up, she let a sigh of relief slipping through her lips as she mumbled under her breath a quiet ‘thank god’.

He silently chuckled to himself, having heard her words, the smirk painted across his lips not able to be erased.

‘Dear Sihtric, I am glad to see you have not abandoned me after my last letter. I may sound dramatic writing this – sorry. It’s been an awful week at work. I lost two patients in the span of a few days. It’s been grim to say the least. I love my job. It has its moment, notably, witnessing such loss, but I also get to meet all kinds of people with such extraordinary stories – it's a blessing. I hope you are doing well and that you are reaching the end of your dreary cold. Be safe, Sihtric. I hope we’ll get to meet soon.’

They found their seats, secluding themselves from the early afternoon crowd; back in her neighborhood, she was treating Sihtric to lunch.

They sat in front of each other, her back leaning against the booth with only the table and menus separating them. As for the newly freed ex-convict, he was leaning forward where his arms rested on the surface with his head laid low.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She softly spoke, her sleeves pulled towards her fingers as they toyed with the menu.

He lifted his head to her words, a gentle smile covering his lips. “I’m just… overwhelmed a bit, I guess.”

She worried, her brows narrowing at his sentiment. “Are you happy at least? You’re a free man.” She said with a little tint of joy coming from the back of her throat.

A soft chuckle escaped him, naturally rolling off his tongue. “Yea, you could say that.” He then pushed himself against the backrest of his seat, arms dropping on his lap. “Thank you.” Relief had washed over him like a gentle breeze as his back leaned towards his seat, relaxed as his eyes settled on Liliann.

“For?” Her head slightly tilted, curious.

“For everything.” The laidback stature he grew into was now dissipating, the tension in his shoulders slowly gripping him once again. “You had no obligation with anything-” He was interrupted when a waiter came to their table to take their order.

Liliann jumped in, her eyes lingering on her friend for just one moment before she was giving her attention to the menu as she spoke up, taking the lead. She had crossed over the pages going from appetizers, plates and drinks to share between them.

Once the worker had took his notes and was out of ear shot, leaving them with only their glasses of water for the time being, Sihtric spoke up again; he was taken aback by her gesture and approached her again, pressing himself against the edge of the table. “It’s too much, you didn’t have to order all that.”

With a softening gaze, she leaned forward as well, matching his stance with a light tone of voice that dipped into care. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch is on me.”

“You don’t have too-” He gestured to her his refusal, his hand stretching across the surface of the table.

She mimicked him, having reached out where her hand rested atop his – a gesture done on instinct, her mind having no thought of the movement. “I want to.”

The sudden touch halted the twist of the tongue, the need for speech suspended. Sensing warmth budding in the palm of her right hand, she just as quickly pulled away, breaking the tension that seemed to have tied them together. Sihtric felt a soft wasp of cold air before he pulled away as well, trying to ignore the tingling sensation; it lingered, and he used his other hand, his thumb rubbing across his left. He swallowed the lump in his throat, the chaotic swarm of emotions leaving him conflicted. He felt weighed down by such heaviness, part of him thankful for her while the supposed rational part of him felt guilt nibbling at the edge. It left him perplexed, not knowing if his appreciation and affection stemmed from his circumstances – as she had become a beacon of hope – or if the feelings he held, wrapped like a vine across his ribcage, were genuine because of her.

Sitting face to face, finally being able to physically look at her and take her in, he couldn’t stop but wonder if what he felt was real, or if his emotions were attached to her as his white knight savior.

Either way, he wanted her in his life.

She was easy to talk to, and he found her sense of humor and her sarcasm endearing. Her comedic stance had given him a breath of fresh air into his lungs, as if his need for oxygen was now revolved around her, around every hint of a giggle in her throat, the caring smile across her lips, or the spark in her eyes that would shine whenever something light came to be.

He was smitten, and though he had known her for years – today was the day he felt his heart soar against his broken chest.

“Plus, I’m starving! I’d probably be leaving you with crumbs to eat anyways.” Her words, ringing into his ears so sweetly, made him titter.

She blushed at the sound.

“Alright, then.” He nodded, accepting her generosity with a small exhale. He then reached for his drink, his fingers twisting the glass on the table. From her hues, he looked down to the rim. “Thank you.” He lifted his head to her again, his shoulders letting go of the strain. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

She shared a giggle, a subtle sound that etched across her lips. “I look forward to it.”

And just in time, the waiter came back with their pints while the food was still yet to come.

Liliann took her glass, raising it to him. “To your freedom.” Sihtric mimicked her, taking his own drink and lifting it mid-air. “Partial freedom. I’m on parole, remember?”

She shrugged, a laidback motion of her shoulders. “It’s still a win.” They clinked their glasses, sharing their first sip as silence comfortably settled itself between them, a ball rolling up and down the table.

While he took his second sip, she worked on her next words – something he had noticed as her mouth twitched carefully. He waited, patient. She took a small gulp from her own glass, the bitter liquid trenching down her throat as she tilted her head to him again. “Have you thought about what you will do, now that you’re out?”

He sighed, thinking about his future. “Not really... To be honest, I didn’t think this day would ever come.”

Her heart squeezed at his answer, hurt he felt such way, that he had lost hope.

She did what she did best, petting such worries into a deep sleep. “You could take up knitting.” She gave him a light shrug again, a gesture that was meant to amuse him. “You can join my one-woman knitting club.”

He chuckled – he would never get tired for her knack for humor, he thought.

“I’ll think on it.” He offered a soft lopsided smile as he took another sip of his drink. She smiled in return, diverting her gaze quickly to the window on her right before turning her head back to him.

Once more, silence had spoken, letting Liliann thinking over her next words cautiously while her teeth nibbled at the skin inside her lips. She let out a breath, quietly as it slowly escaped her mouth, interrupting their moment with her low voice. “You’re welcome to stay with me, by the way.” As soon as they had come out, had she realized the meaning of her sentence and just as quickly jumped back in to clarify. “U-until you find something else, I-I mean.” She became nervous again, unable to read him. “Y-you can stay as long as you need.”

He looked at her, her kindness becoming like budding waves of the sea; he wasn’t drowning, he just remained still as the water caressed him, leaving droplets and raising his skin. He grew heavy again, guilt scratching at his inside. “You’ve done enough, already- Lili-”

She swallowed the dryness in her throat, pressing herself further against the backrest of her seat. She was close to pleading, her words breathed out with weight attached to them. “Sihtric, please.” He saw her shift, and had seemed to have closed herself a bit, her arms on her lap while her fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt. “I want to do this. I want to help.”

He sighed softly and gave her a subtle nod as he accepted her invitation – he saw she had slowly straightened her back with a slither of hope, he thought, had added some colors to her irises. “It’s temporary.” He couldn’t bring himself to say he had friends we could stay with, that he at least had people who would look out for him.

She shook her head, feeling more at ease. “Exactly.” A small smile made its way to the corner of her lips, unable to hide its content – it seemed it was contagious as Sihtric found himself doing the same, sharing a grin of his own.

Their food had arrived and had rolled their conversation onto smoother tracks. The atmosphere had settled around them, igniting banters and laughter that eased the residing tension on his shoulders, dissipating the heaviness into the void.

The afternoon swayed through as they caught up like old friends who hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. They rekindled past conversations and introduced new topics as the hours of the day danced around them, like a soundtrack rolling backstage.

The sound of her laughter was becoming a necessity, leaving him with a smile that hadn’t made its appearance in years; her written words had always been held close to his heart. Now that he knew what she sounded like, the way she held her humor, the way she spoke – the lines he had memorized in his head, he could finally hear her say them. His heart soared as her voice floated between his ears, soothing him.

They were on their third drink, gently rummaging through their plates, when the air had cooled down. Sihtric’s eyes had caught sight of a woman from across the pub, his heart suddenly coming to a halt.

Liliann noticed the change in demeanor and called for him. “Sihtric?” With no response, she followed his gaze and turned her head to see where he was looking. Her face dropped, understanding the violent fright in his eyes. She then turned back to him, finding him gulping his beer.

She let him swallow, leaning towards the table’s edge with concern. “You alright?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Y-yea. For a second, I thought it was-” He was looking pale, the color draining from his face in utter shock. An ache settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched him. “I know. I thought the same…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands remaining at the nape of his neck before they fell to his lap. “I’m sorry for how she behaved towards you.”

“It’s okay. There is nothing to feel sorry about. It wasn’t your fault.”

It was believing that Sihtric’s ex was just a few feet away, that left them feeling dread looming over them.

It was remembering the last time she had seen the other woman that Liliann felt a rush of goosebumps across her skin, making her slightly shudder; the ex had initiated an argument when she found out Liliann and Sihtric were keeping in touch. Annoyed, enraged, she had taken his stuff and dropped them at Liliann’s door with a simple “if you want him, you can have him” remark spat at the young woman.

“Still… She was my wife.”

Liliann huffed, the tone done in a tongue in cheek way. “Yea… Weird taste, dude.” She used her sarcasm to push away the grey cloud that encased them in their booth. It made him chuckle, making it another successful attempt at lightening the mood.

Wanting then to continue and desperately change the subject, he dived into something else, bringing her along. “How is Aramis?”

She had taken a bite, a small piece of fried pickle, when he inquired about her pet. The suddenness of his question made her choke on her food. Trying to catch a breath, she coughed as she went for her glass, the straw settling between her lips as she downed her beverage to cool herself. All the while, though he was taken by surprise at her reaction, Sihtric couldn’t help but smile as she grinned nervously.

“I thought I would’ve annoyed you with how much I wrote about him.” She kept her fingers on her glass, the straw dancing around the pieces of ice cubes that resided at the bottom.

He frowned, curious. “Why would you think that?”

A slight scoff slipped from her, her eyes remaining glued to her plate. “People - that I have encountered at least - tend to be irritated by those who talk too much about their pet. Especially against cat ladies.”

Aramis was her everything; a simple British short hair she had adopted from an elderly couple who couldn’t take care of him anymore.

He held a soft beam, his sentiment genuine towards the little one. “I love the little guy! And I love that you took him in. Not a lot of people would do it, let alone mean it when they say they would do it.”

She blushed, flustered at receiving such a compliment, and hid behind her drink. “Y-yea… He’s a pretty good roommate to have around.”

“I have some competition it seems.”

She chuckled at his remark, meeting his eyes as she shook her head, amused. “I guess so.”

They carried on, traipsing seamlessly from topic to the next, a comfort settling between them.

Drawn to one another, unable to notice time pass, the pen’s ink slowly tightened them within its cursive script and pushed them closer as they discovered more about one another.

The letters they wrote had brought ease and hope, and he appreciated every single one of them. “They have definitely made my life bit fuller, if that makes sense…”

“It does.” She softly smiled at him, understanding as the sentiment was reciprocated.

Sihtric had then gotten up from his seat without a word, suddenly leaning towards Liliann from across the table. He reached for her, his hand resting on the left side of her face, hand to her jaw with his thumb caressing her cheek. He then approached her further until she felt his lips pressed onto hers, sharing a sweet kiss – the gesture taking her by surprise. He pulled away, though he remained close enough to her, calling for her.

The glass shattered, the daydreaming breaking into thousands of pieces as she was snapped back into reality.

He had noticed she had fallen into a slight daze, unresponsive until he spoke her name. Startled, blinking, she cleared her throat as she quickly slid out of her seat. “E-excuse me-”

She dashed for the bathroom, going straight for the sink. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She grabbed the counter, lifting her head to the mirror in front of her. “Get your shit together, Liliann!” Pointing at herself through the glass, arguing with herself, she took a moment while catching a breath. Once she felt normal again, she fixed herself up and walked back to her seat.

Sitting back down, Sihtric looked at her with a curious gaze. “Are you okay? You look… flushed.”

She still felt heat gripping her cheeks. She cleared her throat, pretending nothing had disturbed her. “I’m fine. I just ran a bit hot. T-the food was quite h-ot.”

He chuckled, not fully convinced. “Alright, if you say so…”

She chugged down half her water – the sight leaving a tickled smirk across Sihtric’s features. Placing her drink on the table with a sigh, she leaned back in her seat, pulling her sleeves to her palms as she picked – once again – at the hem of her shirt.

He saw the gears in her head turning, igniting curiosity on his end. She was so pensive, clearly thinking of what she wanted to ask him – the way it marked her features, a glint stretched across his lips, enjoying the way she was nibbling at her bottom lip in thought.

She let out a small breath – the one thing had been haunting her for a while. She had been too afraid to ask but the dire need to know, to understand, had been gnawing at her like an aftertaste. She gathered her courage and pushed through. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

She ripped it away like a band aid.

“Why didn’t you want me visiting you?”

He took a moment to answer, pondering as he fell backwards, resting in his seat. Meeting her stare, he melted under her gaze, his answer floating smoothly. “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion the letters created for you.” His words rang her ears. She waited for more – it took him a second to continue. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed of who you would be meeting, face to face.”

Her heart broke at his confession. It hurt to see him retrieve himself like this. “Sihtric, the letters never created any sort of illusions for me. They were the most honest I’ve ever been with anyone, and I felt that from you too. U-unless I’m wrong-”

“No, you’re not. I've been more honest and vulnerable with you than with anyone else. Even from my ex...” The pressure on his chest was chipping away ever so slowly. “I wanted to see you, to sit down and talk and finally meet the mystery woman who I've been writing too. Up until you sent me your picture, I thought I was being cat-fished.”

She laughed at his comment, inciting his own chuckle. “I am an improvement, I hope.”

“You have no idea.” He lingered – just for a moment, and then spoke to her. “And sorry, again. I thought it would be easier if we just kept to the letters… I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”

She offered him a smile, a grin that reached him. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m just glad we are here now… finally.” He reached for his plate, picking out a single frie. She quietly watched him, the curves of her lips remaining timidly upwards. “And Sihtric?” He met her gaze. “You’re not a disappointment.”

Her words struck him and for the first time in so damn long, he believed it.

He believed her; the way she was looking at him, the way her eyes held him with such high regard as if he was anything but a criminal, a murderer. Not even the woman he had spent most of his adult life with, not even she who he was engaged to, looked at him that way. It left him with a warmth that crept under the covers, right into his chest like a cat seeking comfort.

He tried to ignore the thoughts that hid in the shadows, in the back of his mind.

There was a lingering gaze; they held their eyes to each other without a word, without even realizing what they were doing. It had lasted for a few seconds – short enough for the waiter to come back, interrupting them. “Do you want anything else?”

Liliann turned to Sihtric. “Dessert?”

Sihtric nodded. “Sure, why not.”

She turned back to the worker while Sihtric’s sight remained on her, enamored.

The entire situation still felt surreal for him.

He took his last sip, eyes on her, until he eventually turned to the window, the glass back on the table.

“You alright?” He nodded at her inquiry, looking back at her. “I didn’t realize the holidays were approaching so quickly.”

“Tell me about it.” She joined in, looking to the streets with her arms resting by the sides of her body.

The afternoon had stretched into late evening, the dessert extending their stay even further.

Time passing was not an issue for either of them – they had nowhere else pressing to be.

For now, he was content, enjoying her presence at his side.

‘Dear Liliann, I’m sorry to hear about the troubles my ex is giving you. I’ve tried reaching out, but she has completely cut ties with me. Please do not mind her, I’ve angered her, though I guess being out of the picture, it’s easier for her to use this excuse to cheat on me. I know I’ve written this before but thank you for letting me know. I cannot blame her, to be honest. It hasn’t been easy – our last years together were a tumble down the stairs. Yet, I cannot help but still feel for her since she had been by my side as far as I can remember. But I guess everything must come to an end eventually...’

They stood quietly in the hallway while Liliann searched for her keys.

She was rummaging through her purse, the item lost within the void. All the while, Sihtric remained patient, his eyes watching her with amusement until he turned his head where his gaze settled on the closed door that stood across from them.

“Got it!” The jingle of the keys echoed around them as she lifted her head up, smiling at her retrieval.

She then caught him looking behind her; she turned around before looking back at him again. She softly spoke up, careful with her tone. “A new couple moved in a few days ago…” A part of her was glad his ex had moved out, having grown afraid of the woman.

Her words caught his attention as he reverted to her. She spoke again, happy to see the slight tremor in her voice went unnoticed. “H-have you spoken to her recently?”

“No.” She was unlocking her door when he continued, stuttering her steps in the process. “But I need to reach out to her. We need to talk.”

“O-oh. Yea, I guess…” A shaken sigh under her breath, Sihtric hadn’t seen the dread draping her shoulders, which she - once again - quietly thanked.

Opening her front door, she turned on her lights as she walked in and was welcomed by the loud cries of her cat.

Liliann bent down, picking up her furry friend in her arms while gently scratching at his fur.

She then turned around as Sihtric walked in and closed the door behind him. He remained speechless, taking in the sight as she moved away.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

He chuckled as he removed his jacket, his eyes wandering around the small apartment until he saw a few boxes lying by a wall.

“It’s not much, but it does the trick. It’s, hmm, it’s home…” He noted the slight saddening undertone that slipped through. He said nothing, not wanting to make it palpable and bring her down.

“It’s perfect.”

She met his hues and blushed, a shy smile gracing her lips.

He then approached her, worry coming back to him. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”

“Sihtric.” She placed a hand on his arm, the gesture meant to reassure him. “I promise, it’s alright.”

“I really owe you.”

She gave him a gentle squeeze before letting him go. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour.” With her pet now out of her arms, strutting around without a care in the world, Liliann guided Sihtric around from the living room to her kitchen, bathroom and lastly her bedroom.

“I figured you might want a proper bed after so long. I’ll just plop on the couch.”

Sihtric stood still, refusing to become the reason she would also be losing her bed – on top of gaining an unwanted roommate.

“You’re not kicking me out. I pass out in the living room all the time anyway. The bed is just for decoration at this point. Might as well be used.” She shrugged, nonchalantly, wanting to convince him all was well. “You need to a comfortable place to sleep, Sihtric. Take the bed, it’s fine. I promise.”

He stared at it, the covers and pillows neatly propped – the room was simple and held all the necessities. It wasn’t too extravagant, and yet still held some kind of comfort to its atmosphere.

She watched him, trying to understand the emotions that were written across his face.

The scene broke down when Aramis cried from the kitchen – he was getting hungry.

Liliann cleared her throat, scratching at the back of her head, catching the man’s attention. “Hmm, why don’t you take a shower- or a bath, whichever you prefer. I have towels ready for you on the counter already and your clothes are in this box over by the dresser. H-hopefully they still fit.” She started taking steps backwards, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll go see what’s up with the little fur ball in the meantime.”

She was walking away when Sihtric grabbed her wrist, forcing her to a halt.

He didn’t have to say anything – for once, she was able to see what he was going to say and stopped him. “You don’t have to thank me Sihtric. I’m glad you’re here. Truly. Enjoy your freedom, will ya?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “I will.”

She gave him a soft smile, placing her free hand on the one he held her with before walking away, her heart in her throat.

He watched her, his shoulders dropping, his heart pounding in his ears – conflicted.

The steam of the bathroom had escaped once the door opened. Sihtric quietly made his way back to the bedroom while Liliann was preparing the couch with sheets and pillows.

She had taken the time to change into her pj’s - a worn out t-shirt with man’s sweats - and had gotten some extra blankets for him.

She held a couple and walked into the slim hall to her bedroom when she found him looking through some of his boxes.

“You look refreshed.” She watched him as he got up to his feet to face her; he looked relaxed, all the heaviness of today washed away.

He ruffled his hair, his fingers passing smoothly through the strands, still damp from the water. “It was the best shower I’ve had in a very long time.”

She chuckled, happy to see him this way. “Glad to hear considering the water pressure isn’t all that great.”

“It was better than what I had, believe me.”

She walked to the bed, her arms busy with additional covers. “I brought you some extra blankets. Wasn’t sure if you ran hot or cold...”

Her voice trailed off into silence, only now having noticed their proximity. Her mouth hung slightly open, her fingers digging into the fabric of the sheets as it stood between them. She was struck with the way his bi-colored gaze bore into her, her breath held by the depth of his hues.

They were pulled back when noise came from the living room – Aramis was keeping himself busy.

Liliann cleared her throat and turned around, placing the blankets on the bed. Sihtric remained still, watching her move without saying anything. He was unable to break away, taken in by the leisurely demeanor she wore; he couldn’t help himself but study how the cotton hung across her figure – if he held her, if he tightened his hold onto the fabric of her clothes, they could hug her, and he would be able to trace every spec, every curve, that stood beneath him. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, her bangs brought up with a clip to her scalp – he felt the need to run his fingers through them, to feel their softness against his skin. And then to feel her skin warm under his touch as he hugged her close.

Liliann turned around to find him staring at her.

He looked taller, she thought.

All within their silence, he approached her prudently until his left hand rested on her cheek, the other placed on her waist. Her lungs were numb, unable to breathe, from the physical contact – she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like this.

Emotions were now in overdrive, having subdued all rationale into complete oblivion.

They locked eyes, incapable of breaking away as if she was paralyzed by the colors of his irises; she fell into their shades, letting them embrace her with undescribed sentiments carved into the thin lines as they ghosted over her.

Breathing in the tension, he leaned down, drawn by the desperate need to kiss her. The feeling almost palpable, his lips already tingled.

From her waist, his left hand traveled down to her hip, gently grasping her shirt as he pressed his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, his breath tickling her lips while her heart pounded with such strength, she could feel her ribcage crack, in dire need to be free from its confine.

A slight movement from her, her nose brushed against his – a feather touch. He tilted his head down to see her fingers hovering over his chest, as if to hold herself up. The cupid bow of her upper lip, the hint of her dimple on her right cheek – he wanted to feel it, to kiss it, to see it sculpting her skin when smiling.

The control was held with such great strength, he hated himself for it.

Yet, he couldn’t let go.

He couldn’t abandon his resolve to kiss her – he didn’t want to.

But he wasn’t capable either of pursuing his desire, as if he was held up by strings, as if a wall was separating them.

He held her firmly, his thumb tracing over the hidden dimple as he held her jaw. The warmth of his touch made her quiver, her knees almost giving out. He lifted her head up to him again, making her open her eyes which silently begged him for more.

The unspoken emotions that hovered across the dried ink of their letters, the ones that were captured and incased within the sealed envelopes, seeped through with every breath, the air growing thicker.

Her hands carefully climbed to reach him – her fingertips peeked at the hem of his shirt against his neck, making him shiver from her touch.

Just one more nudge and he could succumb to his want, to feel her lips pressed against his. They were so close yet felt so far away.

She caught the pendant he wore, her gaze averting to it as Sihtric watched her play with it. She captured the cord and gently tugged, pulling him down to her – she could feel his lips finally hover over hers, like a shadow, ready for a firmer touch.

She was lacking his sense of control while she gathered her courage, moving her lips softly over his.

His grip on her hip tightened, his hand digging into the fabric of her shirt as it rested against her skin. His left remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing over her jawline as they hid within the locks of her hair.

And when he finally met her, when she could finally fully feel his lips pressed against hers, ready to dive into this state of yearning – they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door, forcing them to pull away.

The heat exuded from their closeness vanished from the simple percussion of the door.

They stood still for a moment, simply staring at each other while their chests heaved; reality fell on them, like a glass ceiling falling from its root and straight onto them, shattering on impact.

He was knocked out.

He noticed the pink tint of her cheeks, the slightly parted lips, and the look in her eyes was yet to be understood though, he swore he saw an outline of disappointment painted within them.

The door knocked again, the noise resonating with them once more.

The moment gone, she walked away, leaving him to pull himself together. He took a seat on the bed, elbows to his knees as he held himself in thought, yelling at himself for what transpired.

He heard her footsteps get closer to him and finally looked up to see her standing at the bedroom’s entrance.

“Who was at the door?” He was a little bit agitated – the knocks reminding him of his childhood, of the roughness of his past.

“Just a delivery... I ordered some knitting stuff. I-I ran out.” She leaned against the threshold while he remained sitting at the edge of her bed.

An awkward silence settled in the room.

She still felt the ghost of his lips pressed on hers – she pinched her bottom lip while they remained quiet and looked at him as he stared down his lap onto the floor.

Her mouth moved, trying to break the stillness that infiltrated their bubble.

“Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat.”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll let you be then...”

She was about to turn away when he called for her. She just as swiftly pivoted back, hopeful.

He stumbled on his words, trying to find a way to speak without causing any strain. “About earlier- I didn’t mean to overstep-”

She interrupted him, knowing where he was going.

Her heart broke.

“You didn’t. O-overstep, I mean...”

She gave him half a smile, hoping to mask the ache in the pit of her stomach, wishing he would simply get the message and run to her.

He did.

And he was dying to jump on his feet and grab her, but he couldn’t push himself to do it.

He felt undeserving.

The guilt crippled him, thinking he had taken advantage of her even though he knew she wanted this as well.

He couldn’t risk losing her, of making things more complicated – even though they weren’t.

She gulped down, her head down as she pushed hair strands behind her ear before going for the hem of her shirt, her nervous habit apparent.

She then looked up to meet his eyes, solemn. “Goodnight, Sihtric.”

“Goodnight, Liliann.” She left him be as she made her way back to the living room, a bee line straight for the couch, while holding back her tears and wrapping her arms around herself.

She told herself she was being ridiculous for feeling this heartbroken over a kiss that never was.

She took her seat and laid down facing the backrest, covering herself tightly with her eyes shut close.

He sighed, falling against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, cursing under his breath for wanting to let his emotions take over.

He could still feel the tingle of her lips on his, his fingertips missing the warmth of her skin.

‘Dearest Sihtric, it’s that time of the year again. Christmas is right around the corner and I’m scrambling to figure things out. I might have to work over the holidays – I'm waiting to receive my schedule – and to be honest, I think it’s better than to be alone. Aramis will be without me, but he is used to it, and I don’t think he notices it anyways. I wonder what Christmas would be like if we ever get to celebrate it together – any traditions you want to share? There are a few I remember growing up... It’s been harder every year, but now that we’ve met, that I have you in my life, the holidays don’t feel so alone. I hope it’s the same for you. Maybe one day, if we ever meet – when you get out of there, we could celebrate together. Nothing lavish – I'm sure Aramis would love to meet you. What do you think?’

He had walked through the front door when he found Liliann in the middle of decorating for the holidays.

While Sihtric had been out all day, she took the opportunity to fetch - within her parents’ storage unit - the family Christmas tree alongside some of the decorations they had left behind. It was a challenge to climb the stairs of her building with the heavy items back and forth, let alone having made it fit within her hatchback.

Unintentionally hiding away, she had heard him and stopped what she was doing, popping her head from behind the tree. “You’re back!”

He jumped, startled at the suddenness of her voice echoing within her living room; she widened her eyes, apologetic of her outburst. “S-sorry. Did not mean to scare you.”

His hand pressed to his chest; he breathed out a smile to her. “That’s alright.” He started removing his jacket, his gaze finally taking note of the clutter surrounding his friend. “What’s all this?”

“I thought since the holidays were approaching, I might as well get a head start on the decorations, and stuff.” A practiced answer; she had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She moved from where she stood, her hands busy with a set of small colorful light strings, as she continued. “You know how Aramis likes toying with the ornaments.” She gave him a nervous chuckle, trying to mask the anxiety hammering inside her chest.

Sihtric had quickly taken notice of her pet at the mention of his name, the creature stretched out on his back and asleep on the couch. And instead of saying anything to discourage the apparent effort Liliann was putting for him, he smiled, even though he knew the truth; he was aware she hadn’t gotten into the holiday spirit as of late, with her family spread apart. He remembered the letter that told him of such predicament, the words spilling out her lonesome secret – her lack of need to decorate.

And so, he knew she was doing this for him – for Liliann, it was all in the hopes it would ease his transition, bring some cheer back into his life.

She went on, desperate to break the tension. “To be honest… I-I don’t even know why I bother.” Another anxious huff escaped her, her rambling habit taking over. “My parents are doing their own thing again this year and my sister will be with her in-laws now, a-and I’ll probably be given a shift or something at the hospital, so I won’t be here anyways…” Having brought herself down, she dropped the garland from her hands and wiped her palms on her sides. She looked away from him, ashamed.

She ran her fingers through her hair, dropping her arms as she faced the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make some tea.” She rushed away from him, leaving him to look around at the mess in the room. He appreciated the effort she was putting in for him, yet he felt heavy.

Last night’s moment, in the shadows of today’s events, he felt weight on his shoulders.

He eventually joined her at her table where he found her sitting with her mug on the table alongside her delivery box from yesterday opened in front of her.

He sighed, taking a seat.

They welcomed the silence like a third friend. Her gaze was glued to the steam floating from her cup, her teeth nibbling the skin inside her mouth – she had a question burning her tongue.

“Did you go see her?”

She had spoken so softly, it took him a moment to register her words; he nodded. “It’s official. The papers have been signed.”

She frowned as she met him. “The divorce papers?”

He nodded once again. “I thought she had sent them to you months ago.”

“She never did.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” Remorse settled in the pit of her stomach. She grabbed her mug, pulling it towards her. “She came to see me and shoved the envelope in my face, telling me to bring it to you. I-I told her it wasn’t my responsibility, and she should do it herself if she wanted the papers signed... I’m sorry, I should’ve just taken them.”

“It’s not your fault. She shouldn’t have put that on you.” He held her gaze, and he could see anguish coloring her eyes. “It is done now either way, so all is well.”

She took a sip of her tea, bending her legs against her chest.

He wanted to move away from talking of his ex – the sour subject having left him with a bitter aftertaste.

And so, his eyes settled on the box in front of him. “Your package?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She resettled in her seat, placing her mug back on the table. “Hmm, y-yes. Just some new yarn and I got a second pair of needles, just in case y-you wanted to give it a try... as a hobby.” She slid them to him, timid. He chuckled and thanked her as he took them.

They were disturbed by the whining of her cat, the poor feline caught in the abandoned light strings.

Liliann leaned sideways to see what had happened.

“Damn it.” She muttered under her breath and quickly got up to help him while Sihtric remained seated, his eyes venturing back to the box and the needles in front of him.

His mind wandered back to what his ex had said about his friend, making him angry in return against the insults.

He had regretted the events of today and had wished he would’ve stayed put instead – at least spending it with Liliann.

He was brought out of thought when she came back with her cat in her arms. “I think he is lonely. My company doesn’t seem to suffice anymore.”

He smirked, a light huff running down his tongue. “Well of course, he needs a friend to get tangled in the lights with – right buddy?” He scratched under the cat’s chin, inciting a whine from the little one.

She smiled at his words, watching him entertain her pet with her heart in her throat. “I have been thinking about maybe getting a second one, to keep him company.”

“It would be a nice Christmas present for him.” He lifted his eyes to her, never letting go of the soft smile he wore. “For you too as well.”

She nodded, reciprocating the affection. “Yes, I guess so.”

Aramis then wiggled out of her arms, throwing another whine at her as he jumped to the floor, scurrying himself away.

A small laugh escaped Sihtric as he got up to his feet; Liliann remained still, watching him.

“I’m gonna go shower.”

“O-okay.” He was walking out, just about to disappear into the hallway when she jumped as well, calling for him. “Sihtric?” Standing up, her fingers went for her shirt, her habit nitpicking the fabric. “A-about the divorce… How are you holding up?”

He pondered before answering. “I’m okay. I’m relieved, I guess.”

“G-great! I-I mean that it’s all sorted now, a-and that it’s a good thing its over- that you got closure- that you got her out of your system.” She couldn’t seem to stop, her foot digging deeper into her mouth.

He raised his brow, confused. “That I got her out of my system?”

“We-well, yea. You s-slept with her right?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, already striding with her follow ups. “Y-you were gone all day-” He didn’t answer, the clumsy moment forcing her to jump, ready to face her train. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I just… She hurt you the first time around. I don’t want her to do it again if you’re thinking of getting back together with her… You deserve better.”

He sighed, understanding the sentiment behind her words. She worried for him, and he appreciated it. “We’re not getting back together.” No relief seemed to cross her. “I promise. She’s the last person I want in my life right now.” He was about to walk away when he stopped, owing the last piece of truth of his day to her. “But yea... You could say, I got her out of my system.”

She felt a percussion hitting her right in the chest. With a hitched breath, she swallowed the lump lodged in her throat – though it remained stuck. “G-good. That’s good- for the closure I mean.” She was hiding her jealousy and had hoped he wouldn’t notice. She gave him a reassuring smile as he walked away with the same facial expression. Once gone, she cursed at herself, under her breath, as she fell back on her seat, her thick socks almost making her slip in the process.

Her head turned to her poorly decorated tree and the mess surrounding it, cursing at herself again. “You’re such an idiot, Lil… ugh, this is stupid.” She exhaled heavily, saddened and annoyed at herself. She bit down her tongue, holding back her tears. She should be happy his ex was out of his life, but the small twig of envy embedded in her, burnt her the way a paper cuts through skin. She chugged down a sip of her tea and got up, having the sudden urgent need to put everything away - not wanting to finish her task of adding some merriment to her home.

There was no point to it anymore, she thought.

'Dearest Liliann, I have some good news – I have a parole hearing coming up. Well, it’s yet to be good news depending on the outcome. I don’t know what to expect from the board. Whatever their verdict, I hope you will remain by my side as I’m sure I will need you... Sorry if I sound dramatic. If the hearing fails and my sentence remains, will you still write to me?’

“Oh, s-sorry!” She was startled by her sight, and quickly backed herself against the frame of her door while trying to turn around, only to end up almost knocking herself out along the way. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She had walked into her bedroom to find Sihtric doing a morning workout by her bed, surprising her.

He stopped at her entrance and got up to his feet, meeting her with a relaxed beam across his face. “You didn’t.�� He was catching his breath, the smile on his lips remaining as he stood tall in front of her, shirtless.

She attempted to avert her gaze elsewhere, suddenly timid at his stance, desperate to spit out words for distraction. “T-training for something?” Her eyes kept gravitating towards him, a coy pull she couldn’t resist.

He chuckled, the sound coaxing a sightless tremor to her knees, as he picked up his shirt from the bed. “A habit I picked up.” She bit the inside of her lip, her teeth pressing harshly into the skin, as heat crept up to her cheeks and painted them pink. Flustered, she scrunched her face, eyes closed, as her hand stretched out to scratch the back of her head, tilting downwards. “I-I thought you were in the shower- I was going to pick up my s-scrubs for work...”

The sly smirk on his face was not letting him go as he noticed the redness in her cheeks and the stammer on her tongue. The shirt now covering him, he approached Liliann as he spoke up, trying to hide his amusement at her reaction. “It’s alright, I was heading out to the kitchen anyways.”

She nodded, her head lifted back up to him as she cleared her throat and pushed herself away when he stood in front of her, needing to walk through the door. She could barely set her eyes on him as he was watching her; the second of eye contact dried her throat, the blush on her cheeks deepening into her veins as butterflies settled in the pit of her stomach.

Once he was behind her, walking away, the breath she had held hostage escaped her. She smacked her cheeks, embarrassed by the way she had greeted him, and hoped to god he didn’t notice – though the haunted thoughts in the back of her head were telling her otherwise. She took a moment, gathering her senses while taking deep breaths to calm herself. She hated how rattled she had been; the scene replayed itself inside her mind, the results coming out differently than what she had just experienced.

Once dressed in her uniform, ready for the day, she made her way back into the living room to find him walking out of the kitchen just as she was heading out.

He stared, caught off guard at her appearance. She caught him, frowning in worry. “I-is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” He shook his head, his startling jump disintegrating. “No... I forgot you were a nurse.”

She mouthed a silent “Oh”, her instinct pushing her for the comical approach. “I don’t blame you. It is a forgettable detail.” She shrugged her shoulders, still jesting. “Even I forget sometimes.”

He chuckled at her comment; she grinned, content with herself she made him laugh.

She jumped back in, her demeanor, now calm. “I need to head out for work. Make yourself comfortable, alright?”

Sihtric grew uncomfortable, unsure of her proposal. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be? You’ve been here two days already.” She picked up her purse and put on her coat before reaching for her boots, all the while trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced. “Yes, but you were here, with me.”

Liliann sighed; concern etched across her face. “Sihtric, I promise you, treat this place like it’s your own. For as long as you need.”

His shoulders fell, the uncertainty in his posture bringing her closer to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the heaviness of her belief in him weighing him down. “You really trust me to leave me here by myself?”

She chuckled while patting him on the shoulder.

“I trust you with my life.”

Her words had slipped, like a body rapidly falling on ice, before she even realized what they had meant. She blushed out of embarrassment, her eyes wide as she stared at Sihtric. She then stumbled on her feet, rushing towards the door to make her way out without even giving him the chance to respond to her remark. “I’ll see you at the end of the day. If there is anything, call me!”

He reluctantly nodded, thanking her again with a softness to his tone before she disappeared on the other side of the door.

The sudden silence that came with her exit left him overwhelmed, the sudden emotion crashing violently like waves would, into the bottom of a cliff under a heavy storm. Guilt grabbed him, unsettling feelings shaking him, haunting him almost.

The thoughts rummaging inside his mind pushed him to believe that her generosity was only there on behalf of his manipulation towards her. It left a bitter taste on his tongue, his heart growing heavy the longer he pondered over it while his stare leapt around him.

Aramis came to him while lost in his head. The cat purred against his leg, brushing his fur against the fabric of his sweats. Sihtric picked him up before glancing around the room again, his eyes following the trail of boxes his ex had left until they led him to the Christmas tree, the ornamental statue feebly standing with pride.

He sighed, taking a moment for himself.

He revisited the last couple of days – from the moment he finally met her at his parole hearing, to the night they almost kissed, and to the night after that.

The boulder grew heavy on his shoulders, the longer he pictured her in his mind’s eyes. He cared for her – that, he couldn’t deny. Yet, he knew himself undeserving of her, the anguish gnawing at him from the inside out. He knew she was breaking her neck for him, and he couldn’t let it go on any longer.

Aramis brought him out of his thoughts as the pet jumped out of his arms, the little one running away to sit at the coffee table. Sihtric approached him as he fetched his old phone out of his pocket. Dialing one of the very few phone numbers he could remember, he stopped when he noticed a box hiding under the surface of the table.

He bent down and picked it up, a small smile gracing his lips as he recognized the envelopes he had been using for his letters. Liliann had kept every single one of them – like he had done – including the first one she had received by accident. Looking through the stack of papers, he also found his ex’s ring, the piece of jewelry having been given back to his friend for safe keeping.

Sihtric’s heart broke remembering how their friendship came to be, when Liliann had received mail that was intended for the apartment across the hall. It was when Sihtric’s ex had rejected the letter in question, not wanting anything more to do with him, not because he was in jail but because she had someone else on the other side of that door, that Liliann decided to respond back and let him know – out of the goodness of her heart.

They had kept in touch since then.

Which now, he had almost wished they shouldn’t have; he should not have answered - he should’ve just let it be.

He ran his fingers through his hair, his head leaned back to the ceiling as he fell on the couch. Aramis jumped on his lap, creating himself a comfortable seat.

The man, traipsing back into his mind let himself wonder; she was one of the good things that had happened in his life. She was caring and he could confess his liking of her, but the lump lodged behind his ribcage, the one that echoed across his limbs from bones to marrow – he was not able to continue his thought, a distant voice shaking him back to reality.

He startled the cat from his sudden movement as Sihtric sat up, looking down at his phone as he realized the number he composed had answered.

He brought it to his ear, taking a second as a breath silently escaped.

“Hey, Finan? It’s me.”

‘Dear Sihtric, my name is Liliann. This letter mistakenly arrived at my door when I believed it was meant for your roommate? Or partner? I thought I should let you know, out of courtesy, but she refused your letter, citing that she no longer wanted to be in contact with you. I’m sorry about this. Hope things will get better where you are.’

The jiggle of the keys into her lock had stirred the cat awake, the pet rushing into hiding under the Christmas tree.

The door opening, Liliann walked in, in complete exhaustion; another hardening day at work, relief washed through as she stepped into her quaint home.

Closing the door, she stood still for a moment as she caught her breath - the broken lift was going to be the death of her, she thought; the stairs had been her Everest, always climbing them yet barely able to conquer.

Only when her breathing settled did she finally take note of the silence surrounding her; her eyes averted to the empty spaces.

All of Sihtric’s boxes were gone.

Perhaps he emptied them, she thought. Maybe it is silent because he was simply throwing them away, she told herself.

Yet, she couldn’t help but call for him, her voice carrying the smallest of echoes. “Sihtric?”

The eerie quietness unsettled her. It was different than before. It was colder somehow, lonelier.

She took a few more steps inside, until she noticed an envelope resting on her coffee table, her name etched eloquently across its surface.

Her heart dropped, dread aggravating the discomfort in her stomach.

The bags she had been holding in both hands, the groceries she had picked up for the simple task of wanting to make a home cooked meal for him, clattered on the floor with the bottom thudding softly against her rug. She had thought it would have been nice to make dinner for two, for once; it was the simple want of recreating her childhood holiday traditions and sharing them with him. To spread some cheer in this damp place, to give him some spirit after the roughness of his last few years.

Hands trembling, she reluctantly picked up the envelope and slowly opened it before pulling out the sealed letter.

My dearest Liliann, this is my last letter…

She couldn’t go on, her eyes stuck to the first sentence, paralyzed. The words resonated within her brain, trying to fully comprehend their significance until they struck her right into the pit of her chest, a sudden sharpening pain striking her ribcage.

Unable to hold on any longer, the paper was let go as it flew downwards until it softly reached the carpet in a silent swoop.

It was as if her body had given out, her knees buckling under the weight of her heartbreak.

Devastation settling at her core, a staggered breath stroke her lungs as her throat choked, ready to erupt under a dawning new reality; it wasn’t the dim lights of the tree, which added a melancholic glow to her living room, that broke her down.

It wasn’t the emptiness of her apartment that tore her apart. Something was amiss, odd and suddenly unfamiliar, but it wasn’t the state of his place that left her to drown.

Hope having vanished, warmth having dissipated from her home, she was left bare and desolate.

It was crippling.

No longer strong enough to stand, she sat on her knees, holding in her tears as her mind was disjointing the last few days she shared with him. She wondered if she had done something wrong, something so upsetting it made him want to leave.

She didn’t dare read the rest of the letter, too frightened of what the content could hold.

But if she only kept going, would she have found his penmanship detailing his apology for leaving her, how he was grateful for her kindness and generosity but how, as well, it was best if he remained away from her. How she was better off living her life without him, how he was asking for her forgiveness at leaving so abruptly, and that he wishes her the best. At how he would forever be grateful for the hope she gifted him and how the letters had become the only source of happiness in his dingy world.

‘You’ve given me so much, Liliann, and I hope, despite the way I have left, you will accept this parting gift… Wishing you the best with your future.’

The purring of her cat caught her attention as he reached for her, pressing himself against her knee. She picked him up and started stroking his fur while settling him against her chest. Shattered, she exhaled a deep breath as she looked down at him, her voice carrying a tremor at the back of her throat. “I guess it’s just the two of us again…” Her fingers reached for his chin, scratching softly before her gaze wandered around until they fell back to her pet again.

“You’ll never leave me Aramis, right?”

The dejection laced into her words was met with a gentle purring. She frowned when she saw her cat did not move.

The softest of calls tickled her ears again and she lifted her head, following the unfamiliar sound.

A shaken breath escaped her lungs, and tears swiftly escaped their confine as they stroked her cheeks.

Liliann stared at the box by her tree while hugging Aramis closer to her.

Within the silence of her living room, the noise resonated once again.

She could see it, but believing it was still a challenge to grasp.

It had done it once more, her heart shattering into pieces as she silently cried.

Across the room, a rescue kitten peeked out of its box, calling for whoever would listen.

It was but a singular note that had set up the rest of her night.

“Meow.”

-----------------------

xoxo

#the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric x oc #sihtric fic #sihtric fanfic #tlk fanfic #arnas fedaravicius #mywriting #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom fanfic #Photo by Ranurte on Unsplash #tlk

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lonely-eli · 3 months ago

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Trippin' On Hallucinogenics - Chapter 8

Note: We're nearing the end of Year 1! There will be short hiatus after next chapter as I get everything set up for the rest of the fic! (and I mean SHORT hiatus)

Barty made it a habit of going to the Slytherin common room after dark, it wasn’t hard to sneak over there once he had learned the routes that all the teachers take. He only tripped once, falling across the floor gracefully, and making a loud thumping noise before scrambling up and running the rest of the way.

“You’re ridiculous,” Evan said when Barty told him the tale.

“You love me,” Barty replied.

Pranks had been happening all year, thanks to “the Marauders”, but Barty had never been the victim of one, he managed to accidentally avoid the one they pulled on the Ravenclaws by falling asleep in the Slytherins house instead of his own. The Ravenclaws all woke up to feathers for hair, Pandora laughed and wore it in stride, even waving and thanking Remus and Sirius.

“Pandora!” Lily Evans greeted, waving at her, “Hey!”

Barty and Lily’s relationship hadn’t grown since that first encounter, however, Lily’s relationship with Pandora had seemed to grow.

Mostly everyone was fond of Pandora, despite her being a Rosier, something Barty attributed to Pandora being Pandora. Sirius tried to avoid her because she hung out with Regulus.

Barty stood patiently to the side while Pandora talked to the muggle born, chatting animatedly about the different kinds of unicorns there were. Barty was unaware there were multiple kinds. Xenophilius stood behind Pandora, he had taken to following her around like a lost dog after Christmas. Barty glared at him and he quickly retreated to the Ravenclaw table.

Eventually, Pandora finished with Lily and waved to the Gryffindors before walking over to the Slytherin table. Barty groaned, his stomach agreeing with him, but followed her.

“Evan,” Pandora said to her brother, he glanced at her in acknowledgement, “We are getting a letter from father today.” “Fantastic,” Evan grumbled.

Barty cocked his head, this was the first time that he had seen or heard Pandora or Evan acknowledge that their parents existed beyond going home.

They hadn’t gotten any letters from their parents, Barty realized, his eyes widening slightly, and he hadn’t seen Pandora send a letter at all.

“Barty?” Pandora asked, clapping a hand in front of his face. He blinked out of his stupor.

“What?”

“I asked if you had gotten word from your mother recently, about us being able to hang out over the summer,” Pandora said.

Barty had gotten a letter from his mother… and father, it was a definite no. “You may not hang out with those bastard children” was the exact words of the letter, something his father had added no doubt. Barty told Pandora as much, and she pouted.

“Poop,” she said at the same time Evan finally looked over at the two of them.

“So sneak out.”

“What?” Barty asked, terrified at the thought of it.

“Sneak out, you’re always going on about how you want to fight against your father, so do it. We’ll meet you halfway.”

Barty pictured his father catching him and standing over him with his wand, he pictured falling to the ground, locked together, but this time his head hits something and he slowly bleeds out while his father stands over him, laughing.

“I—I can’t.”

“Your loss,” Evan said with a shrug.

My loss.

Regulus finally took notice of them, “Go sit down.”

Pandora and Barty obeyed, but not before Pandora gave Regulus a hug, Regulus hugged her back tightly.

***

“Regulus,” Sirius started. Barty and Evan got in front of their friend quickly.

“Leave him alone, muggle lover” Evan snapped. Sirius glared at Evan.

“I’m just trying to talk to my brother.”

“He doesn’t want to.”

They were trying to leave the Quidditch pitch after watching the Hufflepuff team practice when they were ambushed by Sirius, and an uncertain Remus. The taller boy was playing with his hair, with his other hand in his pocket, looking ready to jump them if they messed with Sirius.

Regulus was frozen behind Barty and Evan.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Barty repeated, “So leave us alone.”

“Regulus—”

Pandora wasn’t there because she had managed to escape and study alone in the library, but Barty had been dragged along.

“You’re just going to let them talk for you,” Sirius demanded, “Please, Reg, I just want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Regulus found his voice.

“There’s so much,” Sirius protested. He started to walk forward—

“Flipendo!” Barty shouted. Sirius was forced backwards. Remus caught him and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

“You little—” Sirius snarled.

“Expelliarmus!” Remus cast Barty's wand, slipped out of his hand and flew to him. Remus caught it and twirled it in his hand like it was a sword. Evan took out his own wand, but Remus was quicker, “Expelliarmus!”

Barty watched Remus’s wand movements, Evan watched his wand fly out of his hand. Evan stared at his empty hand before jumping on Sirius.

Sirius grunted and started punching Evan back, he hit Evan in the eye. Evan kicked him in the stomach. Remus leapt in to try and grab Evan and pulled him off of Sirius, but it seemed like he was fighting just as much as Evan and Sirius were.

“BARTY,” Evan snapped. Barty ran into the action and did his best. He’d never been in a fight. He punched Remus in the stomach, weakly.

Remus kicked him in the privates, Barty just managed to twist so that his foot connected with Barty’s stomach. Sirius grabbed hold of Barty, Evan tackled Sirius. The three of them went sprawling, with Remus helping Sirius up immediately.

“SIRIUS AND REMUS,” McGonagall's voice carried over the pitch. She was striding over to them, “I don’t know why I expect better of you at this point.”

Barty took a second confused, then realized how this must look to McGonagall. Two second-year Marauders standing over two first years who really hadn’t done that much. Barty put on his best face and slowly got to his feet, his stomach hurt from where Lupin had hit him. Evan had the beginnings of a black eye. They both looked around for Regulus, and he was still standing over them staring at McGonagall.

“Professor—”

“I don’t want to hear it, twenty points from Gryffindor each and two days detention for all of you,” McGonagall sighed and pinched her temples then muttered, “Making me take points from my own house— All of you come with me to Pomfrey.”

“We’re fine, Professor,” Barty said, gesturing to himself and Evan. Really, he didn’t want to go to Pomfrey.

“I will not have students walking around bruised!” McGonagall said with a glance at Lupin, who shrugged.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Now, Mr. Black,” McGonagall said, addressing Regulus, “I suggest that you head off to dinner.”

“Yes, Professor,” Regulus said, head down.

Barty, Evan, Sirius, and Remus all walked to Pomfrey like little ducklings behind McGonagall.

“Oh dear,” Pomfrey said, when she saw the dirty boys. They all had reached a stage of embarrassment through the awkward silence in the halls, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“Barty Crouch,” Barty said.

“Well nice to meet you, I’m Madame Pomfrey. These three already know me.”

She smiled at Lupin, who smiled back, but looked very tired.

“What has Evan come in for?” Barty asked, he couldn’t imagine the reason why his friend could have needed to come to the nurse.

“Failed Potions experiment,” Evan said with a shrug, “It blew back in my face.”

Pomfrey sat them all down and started healing them one by one, bringing Lupin’s face back to the scarred, but not bruised, mess it was before. Evan got his eye back, and Barty’s stomach felt less like it was crushed into itself.

“There, good as new,” she said with a flourish of her wand.

“Thank you, Madame,” Barty said, going back to the manners his mother taught him.

“I don’t want to see any of you back in here for a fight,” Madame ordered. They all nodded, “Now you’re free to go to dinner, but Remus may I talk to you for a second?”

Lupin paled, Black looked at him nervously and murmured something to him.

“Yes,” Lupin eventually said, “Don’t wait up for me.”

“I’ll save you some food,” Black said, bumping Lupin’s shoulder with his own. Lupin smiled.

Barty grabbed Evan away and took them over to the Great Hall.

“What happened?” Pandora asked when Barty sat down.

“Got into a fight,” Barty said with a shrug, he glanced over at Evan who was whispering something to Regulus.

“With who?” Emmeline asked, speaking up from her usual spot beside Pandora.

“No one important,” Barty said dismissively.

“Are we ready for finals?” Pandora asked.

Barty groaned and leaned back on the bench.

“Kill me now.”

#rosekiller #regulus black #pandora rosier #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #sirius black #remus lupin #madame pomfrey #evan x barty #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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chweverni · 1 year ago

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Mate (pt.3) - what are we?

pairing; joshua hong x reader

synopsis; joshua asked you to keep a promise like no other. lately he's been too mushy and kind to you, or are you just too into this? he really left you wondering, what are we?

word count; ~1.4k words (new milestone!!)

author's note; i wanna thank @minhui896 for their huge support in this series aaa >.< im new to writing on tumblr so your comments and reblogs really make my day!! read part 2 here!

it's exam week right now. during this period, you normally shut off any kind of distractions and tend to study alone at most times, so you've been using that as an excuse to ignore the obvious bump in the road, joshua hong.

you two met up regularly after his birthday either at cafes, museums, the art room, math club, while going home (even though he lived on the opposite side of the city), arcades, you name it. and gradually, you realized that, your just a crush isn't just a crush anymore.

but we won't blame it on you though. joshua's been sending you really mixed signals lately. he would leave your favorite drink in your desk, along with cute notes which read, 'keep up this energy all day y/n! you got this :)' or 'is it just me cuz you look really bothered today? what's up?', which made your tooth rot pretty bad. because, how can someone keep up with being this adorable?

you suddenly decided it's best not to indulge in him for too long, because if you don't do well in the finals, your scholarship may be withdrawn, which you could not afford to lose.

your finals soon ended in a breeze, and the results came in pretty early. since it was just the homeroom period, you decided it's best to utilize this time to go check on the rankings. just this once. you thought to yourself as you shut your eyes hard while standing in front of the leaderboard. you felt the presence of someone else behind you and soon, some large hands covered your eyes.

"someone's checking up on their progress, i see?"

joshua. you sighed a sigh of relief. "don't ever jump up on me ever again! i will end you," you said, feeling his hands, in an attempt to nudge it away from your eyes. "care to explain why you've been m.i.a like for three weeks, y/n? do you have any idea on how worried i was? i thought you took yeon-du's attitude to heart!", joshua hurriedly said, and once again, you could see the pout on his face, even with your eyes shut. you turned around and removed his hands off of your face.

"why do you care for me so much?", you asked, and fuck, your heart felt like it was sinking. you hated how down bad you probably looked to joshua right now, but what's been done has been done. you stared at him with marble eyes. "because i do, y/n.", joshua replied, cupping your face with his hands, inching ever so close to you. you backed away, but the stupid wall hit your back. no where to go now.

"what are we?", you asked, grabbing one of his wrists with your hand, lifting it off your cheek. a tear made it's way down it right after. joshua looked at you intently. he halted for a moment, and then said, "that's not how you ask someone out, you dummy."

before you could even open your mouth to say something, he grabbed your shoulders and turned your body around to face the leaderboard. "oh look! miss y/f/n y/n placed first in the class! congrats love," joshua spoke, the last nickname being a smooth whisper to your ear.

what the fuck? you turned around just to see him walking away. you quickly paced to him and jabbed your hand in front of his body to stop him. "what did you just do?!", you asked, your blood finding its way all up to your cheeks. joshua flashed you a smile, handing you a torn piece of paper as he said, "you still owe me a wish, y/n. and you have a lot to make up for the three weeks of absence, remember? meet me here at 5 today!"

the paper had the address of a local restaurant, and well, how can one resist good food with a good friend?

you waited patiently at the table, tapping your nails on it to cure your boredom. what could possibly go wrong today? you thought to yourself. what if this is all just a stupid high school dare that joshua's been forced to do? what if, that was just his evil twin who tricked you into thinking that joshua, might, have the hots for you? while you busied yourself with those thoughts, joshua sat in front of you, smiling at your zoned out state.

"hi! i would like to talk to y/n; is she back from the underworld yet?", joshua spoke, as he slid a pink box towards you through the table. you flinched and grabbed the box to open it. it had a bracelet, with cute bunny charms in the middle. cute. you thought. "hello joshua! you didn't need to do this though, but did you make it yourself?", you asked him, your stomach releasing a thousand butterflies at the thought of wearing something your crush made for you.

joshua nodded. "i picked up this new interest recently, and i wanted to make one for you after i saw the bunny charms! reminded me of you.", he smiled. you couldn't hold your obvious smile back too, so you faced the ground, a bright red blush adorning your face. joshua chuckled. "what would you like to eat? we can take a walk near the beach afterwards! that'd be so fun!", joshua asked. you picked up the menu and voiced your orders to him.

while eating, some of the sauce stuck to the corner of your lips. you were telling joshua about why you weren't online for three whole weeks but you were interrupted by him wiping the sauce off of your face with a tissue. you nearly choked at the gesture, which left you coughing like crazy. joshua handed you a glass of water, as he softly rubbed your back.

you both decided to pay together, and headed outside towards the beach nearby. as you walked, your eyes landed on a small stall, selling cream buns. you absolutely loved cream buns. being unable you dragged joshua by hand towards the stall, asking for two right away. "my mom used to get me these as a kid; i still love them now! ah! i missed the smell so bad!", you squealed with excitement.

now it was joshua's turn to feel all mushy with love while he saw you absolutely devouring the food. you looked like a kid who was denied all her sugar rights by her mom. how can someone be this adorable? he questioned.

taking a walk in the beach had never felt this romantic. joshua agreed to take a few pictures of you on the beach, and you did the same. you both played with the seashells you collected and heck, you wondered if this was a date.

the sun was setting, and you were sat on the sand, your head laid on joshua's shoulder. "is this a date?", you asked, out of the blue, as you turned your head to look at him. "did you even confess to me, y/n?", joshua asked playfully. "forgive me for thinking you were gonna ask me out today.", you huffed crossing your arms and distancing your body away from him. he wrapped his arms around you and scooted you closer to him. "let's try this one more time, yeah?", he said.

"y/f/n y/n, will you go out with me, pretty please?", he asked, booping your nose with his index finger, his eyes forming crescent moons as he smiled.

"yes.", you replied short, inching your face closer to him, making your foreheads touch.

in no time, his lips crashed into yours, and your body felt like levitating. it finally happened. your crush likes you back, your scholarship was in fact, not withdrawn, and, thanks to your sweet boyfriend, both of you were made the new representatives of the math club. talk about relationship goals.

back to the kiss. it felt magical because he grabbed your hands and squeezed it tight in the midst of the kiss. and that made you lose your mind. you broke the kiss and hugged him tight. "thanks for today, my now-boyfriend, joshua hong!", you said with a smile.

back home, you decided to check up on your instagram. joshua had posted a few photos. as you swiped through the photos, you felt a sense of pride, cause you took them, obviously. but the collection also had your photos with him at the restaurant, which you thought was adorable. and the best part, the caption read,

proper date next time? @(your u/n)

let's just say your dopamine levels were really high all night.

ASSHSHS you've reached the end!! i hope you liked this final part. pls send me support as always <3

all creds to @chweverni only on tumblr!

#seventeen #joshua seventeen #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #joshua x reader #joshua hong #caratsland #joshua fluff

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imabillyami · 8 months ago

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Hii I I'm back 😂

Okay so I would not have guessed English was not your first language 👀😳 you are doing amazingly well!

21 parts!! *fainting* I'm sooo happy to hear that haha Please please in your words - get over yourself and post that stupid (not stupid) chapter 4 😂 - I say this in the most loving and polite way possible 😁🥰 butttt obviously what I really mean is don't stress about it too much and post only when you're happy and comfortable with it (we'll be patiently waiting 😊). I'm glad to hear you're excited for the rest of it though!! 😁

On another note... My curiosity got the better of me 😆 Gentle Cottagecore Emoji Asks 🌱🥛🍯🐄🌳🐓🐇🌲🥞⛰️ answer as many as you like

(as always no pressure to respond) 😊

🐨

Hi Aussie anon friend 🥰

Took me a while to get to your message (April is this crazy busy month for me every single year, but in a mostly positive way), but here we are.

Yeah, the writing thing is delicate and very fickle. But I've been writing for 15+ years at this point and it rarely stresses me out anymore. I just gotta do things in my own time and remind myself from time to time to trust the process. We'll get there, always do in the end. Patience is key.

Thanks for sending those emoji asks, I'll be answering them under the cut 💕

Hugs to you 💜🌻

🌱 Seedling: What is a scent you find relaxing?

Sandalwood & the scent of the air when you walk through the woods after heavy rain

🥛 Milk: What is a food you find comforting when you are sad?

I dealt with some stuff in the past, so I’m not an "eat my feelings away" person anymore these days, and I’m really trying to prevent finding comfort in food or spending money when I feel sad, so I don’t have a specific food. In fact, I really struggle with eating when I’m sad these days, a complete 180 from when I was younger.

🍯 Honey: What is one thing you like about yourself?

Personality wise - my kindness. A lot of people think I’m faking that or playing it up, but I’m genuinely not. I just don’t see the point in making anyone’s life harder or miserable when I can spend my time putting smiles on people’s faces and leave them with good memories instead. Physically - probably my eyes. I like the dark color of them and the way people tell me I have kind eyes. So that.

🐄 Cow: What is one other tumblr blog you really appreciate?

Picking one is impossible, really, cause we’re all here for different reasons and good at different thing and I’m just glad we get to share this space together and love the thing we love.

I’d like to shout out some of my dear friends though. Tay @taydaq for her incredible art and being an all around lovely person who’s always there for others.

Mahi @mahi-wayy / @bangazaii for being a complete sweetheart and our lovely fic writing sessions and idea spitballing sessions / rarepair shenanigans in our dms.

Shanie @shanie-the-komania-toyaddict for always being there when shit gets rough and calling me out on my bullshit, but never judging (& also writing the most beautiful kayfabe compliant steenerico fic + side stories).

Carla @samijey for providing me/us with the most beautiful gifs and the most gorgeous writing (and giving me a chance when it was easier not to).

And last but not least my dear friend E. @bremmommye who’s been my friend and comfort person in & out of the internet for many years by now and who I miss dearly cause we rarely ever get to see each other in "real life" (that's what living on opposite ends of the same country and being busy does).

I love all my moots and my followers and all the people I follow who don’t follow me back, but these people are the ones that have carved out that extra bit of space in my heart for themselves and made themselves a forever home in some shape or form. Sorry, didn’t mean to get that mushy, but I really love talking about my friends.

🌳 Tree: What is one thing in your future you are looking forward towards?

Honestly, it goes hand in hand with the answer above, I think. Being able to watch the people I adore, family, friends, acquaintances, strangers I have yet to meet, grow and evolve and live authentic lives that they’re feeling happy and fulfilled with. That’s what makes me happy - seeing the people around me happy.

🐓 Chicken: What is a comfort movie/show for you?

Sooo many. But one constant is The Princess Bride. Another one is The Breakfast Club. Grey’s Anatomy (very early seasons), Skam, Legally Blonde and more recently Heartstopper. I could go on and on, there’s a whole lot of them.

🐇 Bunny: What’s a song that you really like?

If you could see my music library - it’s WILD. And I love every single song. I listen to music basically every single minute I’m awake and able to. So picking one song - good god. I’ll give you my 5 most recent played ones.

Thoughts of a child - The Lathums

Dublin in Ecstasy - Inhaler

Dreams - The Snuts

I bet you look good on the Dancefloor - Arctic Monkey

Poundshop Kardashians - Sam Fender

🌲 Pine: Do you prefer the cold, or the heat?

The heat. Don’t love the heat, but I can stand it a lot better than being cold.

🥞 Pancake: What is your favorite breakfast food?

Not a big breakfast person, don’t have a sweet tooth either (not anymore I should say), so probably something savory. I had this yummy grilled veggie & hummus on rye bread breakfast sandwich when I was traveling the other day, that one came to mind. On a normal day, I’ll just have a cup of tea (no sugar, no milk alternative), a handful of almonds, and a banana or an apple to hold me over till lunch. But yeah, if I’m going for actual breakfast, I prefer savory over sweet.

⛰️ Mountains: Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest?

Grew up living near the forest and spending a lot of time playing in the woods as a kid, lived in a couple a large cities over the years, now living close to the mountains, but still in general vicinity of the city (albeit a smaller one), I’m really enjoying being able to go for a hike in the mountains if I need to catch a break. Reconnecting with nature and the quiet from time to time is real nice.

#lovely anon #anon #asks #m answers #replies #ask game #ask games #tw ed #🐨

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butyoumakemesohot · 2 years ago

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finally... my secret santa fic! thank you endlessly to kb @softsnzstuff for putting this together, and thank you to @annieherondale (hey girl hey - i was your secret santa!) for being so patient! i hope you enjoy this!!!

pairing: platonic st/eve + ro/bin, pre-s3 word count: 1k summary: when steve shows up to work displaying all the usual symptoms of his "allergies," robin can't help but feel a little annoyed (i mean they work in a restaurant for fuck's sake)

After about a month into the world's worst summer job, Robin inadvertently develops a list in her mind - an inventory of facts and analyses about none other than Steve Harrington:

He hates his parents.

He loves his friends, all of whom inexplicably consist of children no older than fourteen.

He’s really good at stacking scoops of ice cream. His record is seven on a single cone.

He has horrible allergies.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find the last one kind of hilarious. Part of her has been searching for ways to chip away at his ego since high school, and while they’re technically friends now, teasing him about it is still pretty fun.

It’s noon on a rainy Tuesday in June, and Starcourt is practically desolate. Naturally, Steve rolls in a few minutes late for his shift, his dampened shoes squeaking against the tile Robin just spent half an hour cleaning. But she digresses.

“Hey there, Harrington,” she greets, not bothering to look up from the book she’s been assigned for summer reading.

“snff! Hey, Robid.”

He breezes past her so he can clock in, emerging from the back a few moments later. Robin dog ears her book, hoisting herself up onto the counter before Steve can claim it.

“Should be pretty slow today,” she notes, eyes skirting across the empty food court.

“Yeah - snrf! - the roads were pretty mbuch embpty. It’s like a fucki’d hurricade out there.”

Robin clocks another congested sniffle, her eyes narrowing as she takes in Steve’s appearance. His nose is a bright pink, his wet hair slicked back beneath his uniform hat, which is uncharacteristically askew on top of his head. He’s panting, too, out of breath from what was surely a miserable dash across the parking lot.

“What, King Steve can’t afford an umbrella?” she quips, her eyes trailing over the rest of his drenched uniform.

“Ha,” Steve deadpans, sluggishly wiping his nose against the heel of his hand. “I could’ve sword I - SNF! - had ode id mby ca'hhhr but I guess ode of the kids took it.”

“My money’s on Mike.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, mbe too… hah-! hhaHH’ESSCHH!” He whips into his cupped hands just in time, grimacing slightly at the sight of his palms. “Ugh, excuse mbe.”

He wipes pathetically at his nose again, shivering beneath the mall’s air conditioning and his cold, wet uniform. Robin can’t help but feel a bit bad for him.

“You know…” she begins slowly, a teasing lilt to her voice, “rain is known to exacerbate allergy symptoms.”

Steve rolls his eyes, reaching for a few napkins from the dispenser next to the cash register. He wipes the mess off his hands before giving a thick, gurgling blow into the thin paper, still sniffling in the aftermath.

“I dod’t have allergies,” he has the absolute gall to say.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just - snnf! - ‘cause I got caught id the ra'hhid - huhhh… ha’hhTCHHH! ISSSHHhiew!” Steve groans dramatically, roughly pinching away the wetness clinging to his nostrils before grabbing another handful of napkins.

Robin goes back to reading her book, sounding rather amused. “Bless you. Also, I’m pretty sure you're breaking like, seven different health code violations right now.”

“Whatever,” he brushes off. “It’s dot like - snF! - adyode’s here, ahhhdyways. snffsnrrf… heh-! hHH’ESSCHHH!”

Another violent sneeze before he’s burying the lower half of his face in the fresh bundle of napkins, blowing his nose with an unrestrained honk that Robin is almost positive the people who work at the Orange Julius on the other side of the food court can hear.

“Jesus, Harrington, could you at least try to be a little less… vocal?” she asks, cringing.

“I kndow, I kndow - snnnrf! - I soud really gross right dow.” He tosses the soiled napkins in the trash before pulling out a few more in anticipation, glancing at her apologetically. “I would’ve stayed hombe but I really deed the modey.”

“We all need money, dingus. It isn’t worth killing yourself over.”

“‘Dingus’?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “That’s a dew ode… ehh’SSCHHHIEW! God, fuck, sorry. snrrk!” Steve searches for a clean spot on the napkins to fruitlessly wipe his nose, another shiver visibly running down his spine.

Robin sighs. “Have you ever considered taking an allergy pill?”

“It’s dot allergies,” he insists, sounding a bit more perturbed this time.

As much as Robin hates to admit it, Steve may be right this time; judging by the thick stuffiness in his voice, accompanied by the deep flush in his cheeks, it may not be allergies. It may be something more.

Before she can bring it up, however, a couple that Robin vaguely recognizes from school comes in to order some ice cream. She nudges Steve in the direction of the cash register so that she can handle preparing the food, moving quickly when Steve’s incessant sniffling starts to sound more and more unpleasant. She presents the cones with a plastered-on smile, managing to slide in front of Steve right when his breath starts to hitch, blocking him from the view of the customers.

“Thanks for visiting -”

“hahh’AAESSCHH!”

“- Scoops Ahoy! Please have a -”

“ESSCHHHEW! snnxf! hh’IRRSHHH’uhh!”

“- voyagetastic day!”

One more horrendously loud sneeze from Steve makes the couple hightail it out of there, nearly forgetting to accept their ice cream in the process. Robin smirks a little as she watches them go.

“Now we really aren’t gonna have any customers,” she muses. Steve, meanwhile, seems to still be fighting for his his life.

“huh’KGGSCHH!” He sniffles thickly, his nose still buried in the now soaked bundle of napkins. “God, does it ever fuckihhh’g stop? hhhhh - hih-! ihh’SSCHHH’uh!”

He finally manages to blow his nose again, which seems to aid in quelling the itch in his sinuses, but does little to actually clear any of his congestion. He tosses the napkins in the trash when he’s done, taking in a few deep, steadying breaths through his mouth.

“Uh…” Robin says. “You good?”

“For dow, yeah. snnfg!” He pinches the bridge of his nose, which has now deepened to a nearly comical shade of red.

“Steve, I think you have -”

“Allergies?”

“Actually, no,” She smirks again, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was gonna say you might have a cold.”

“... Oh.” Steve sniffles thickly, dragging his index finger beneath his nose. “Yeah, that would mbake sedse, too’hh… hhh’ISSCHHhiew!”

Robin laughs; Steve’s eyes brighten proudly at that, even if it’s at his expense. As she ushers him back to the break room, managing to find a dry uniform for him to change into, she mentally replaces item number four in her list with the following: Steve Harrington either has allergies or a shit immune system. Either way, that makes him a huge dork.

#i haven't written in so long ahhhh #this is literally nothing special but i still hope you like it :-)#sneeze fic #sneezefic #snzfic #snzblr #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington

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polarisbibliotheque · 1 year ago

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Survivor's Blood (Leon x Reader) - Chapter 5

Survivor's Blood

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (you are here!)

Summary: After Raccoon City, Leon became the only Government agent with that kind of expertise. With relentless training, he was now a Special Agent - again, on his first day in the job. He just didn’t expect to live Raccoon City all over again… Maybe Leon was fated to always have the worst first-days-at-work ever.

Age Restriction: 18+. It’s horror, so expect a lot of graphic violence and blood dripping from this. I mean, VERY GRAPHICAL VIOLENCE. Nothing we haven’t seen on RE, but still. Yee been warned

TRIGGER WARNING: Bloody hospital. Really. Bloody, horror movie hospital :|

Author’s notes: Took some time, but hey, we're here!! Funfact: I have this extention on my browser that changes some words of what I'm reading to a target language I'm wanting to learn, and now Magical Donuts appear in my browser as Magical Beignets. I absolutely adored it and I might re-read everything just to laugh at the random French words being thrown here.

I hope you like how it's turning out!! A lot more to come!! And thank you so much for reading and being around ^^

Chapter 5

Hospital Arklay Hill, April 29th, 2001 – 22h03

The way to the hospital was a lot quieter than any of you could have anticipated. The rule was to save ammo and move without drawing attention, always trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Even though you were in Leon’s schedule, you still considered yourselves late.

You followed with Leon leading the way, as agreed. He dreaded the possibility of you getting caught by surprise if you were ahead of him – even if you said you knew your way around guns, Leon had a certain trauma of losing people in situations like the one you found yourselves in.

“Y/n. Can you talk to Valerie?” As soon as you found shelter behind an ambulance tumbled in the street, he finally talked to you. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I can.” You started fumbling with the radio, its only purpose to communicate with the hospital survivors. You spoke with no answer for a while until you heard a hiss in response, fixing the frequency so you could hear it better. “Valerie? Can you hear me well?”

“Hi, y/n? Yes! Yes, I can!” The woman was clearly smiling, being washed by the happiness of knowing you didn’t abandon them. “How are you? Did you meet Leon?”

“Yeah, he’s here with me.”

“Hey, we’re almost there, Valerie.” Leon sat by your side, close enough so you touched shoulders. You kept the radio near your faces, making you both lean into it a little so you didn’t have to speak too loud.

“We need to know where you are in the hospital.” You added, glancing quickly at Leon. “And if you can go to a place where the extraction will be easier.”

“I don’t know if we can… I don’t even know where an easier place would be in here.” Valerie sighed, speaking in a lower voice tone while the other survivors argued about something else. “Almost all the patients got affected by this… I don’t know… Epidemics? I don’t even know how to call it.” She shook her head, sitting in the corner of the room so she could guarantee a little peace. “We managed to lock ourselves in one of the exam rooms; it’s not that hard to get here… After the reception, you need to turn right and then left in a long corridor. In this corridor, there’ll be a lot of doors: the third one to the right, you’ll get into a restricted area, the corridor to the exam rooms. We are in the…” And Valerie took a few seconds, mentally counting. “Fifth? Sixth door to the left? Sorry, I can’t remember for sure… But when you get here, we’ll hear you.”

“Hmmm, just a sec…” You had a good memory and Leon was trained to keep a good amount of information, especially in moments like those. But he had no idea of the hospital’s architecture and with that, you could help. “Leon, you wouldn’t happen to have a pen in one of those many magic pockets, would you…?”

Leon furrowed his brows, giving you a funny look as if asking what the hell you were thinking at the same time he scolded your comment about him taking so many things to the field. After Raccoon City, he became stupidly proficient in inventory management in the field and he had a good idea what was useful or not. A map and a pen proved to be crucial when he got stuck in the police department and roaming around the underground laboratory, trying to find everything he needed to leave those places.

So yes, even though he didn’t want to admit, he had a pen that he took off one of his many pockets almost against his will. That only made you smile.

“Thank you, Mary Poppins. You wouldn’t happen to have a piece of paper too, right…?”

Leon rolled his eyes as he took the map he folded enough to fit one of the pockets. Of every nickname he could have had in his lifetime, ‘Mary Poppins’ would be the last he would’ve imagined to be graced with.

“Ok, here we go…” You held the pen cap between your teeth while laying the map on your thighs. Leon could only hold the radio and accept his fate. “Can you repeat it, Valerie? Please?”

As the woman spoke, you drew a little map of the hospital on the back of the city’s map, trying to remember the sizes of the rooms so Leon would have a better idea of the place you were going in – as well as help you remember all the details without having to call Valerie all the time.

“It isn’t that far away from the hospital entrance.” You showed the place in the improvised map. You pointed the path with the pen. “If we clear the way from the entrance to the exam room, we won’t have to go in deeper and, with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave with no further problems.”

“Hmmm…” Leon analyzed the drawing. You were right, but… “There are other rooms along the way, right?” You just nodded in response. “There’s no way for us to know how many zombies are inside each room and if they are open or not. We can clean the way there, but it’s always possible for something to appear along the way.”

“That’s why one of us should lead the way and the other should be on the back, as we’re doing right now.”

“Ok. I’ll go ahead when we get there and, when we’re leaving, I’ll be on the back and you’ll lead.” Leon checked how many bullets he had left on his handgun – up until that moment, he didn’t see a use for the shotgun but that was about to change. He could feel it. “I think it’s worse if something we don’t know follow us from the inside of the hospital than another zombie crossing our already cleared path.”

“Fair enough.” You agreed more so you wouldn’t argue than anything else: you had lots of arguments to state you were more than capable of dealing with whatever creature that appeared from the insides of the hospital, but you could delay that argument.

“I need to warn you…” Again, Valerie lowered her voice. She was quiet for a while, considering if she would continue the warning. “I’m not sure what I saw. But I think… I think I saw… Something… Different from the people who were infected. Horrible. It looked like it was out of a horror movie…

“What was it, Valerie?” Up until that moment, Leon had reasons to believe what happened in that city was the result of a virus outbreak, but other creatures? Raccoon City was used as a laboratory, but New Setosa? Was it a field test? Whose? Umbrella’s? A lot of questions crossed his head at the same time; and none had an answer. “Can you describe it to me?”

“No. I can’t.” The woman’s answer was adamant. “I closed my eyes and remained quiet. But it looked like… An animal. That thing couldn’t be human. It wasn’t human.

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know either. I just saw one and when I realized it was far, I ran the fastest I could and didn’t leave this room anymore.” She remained in silence while you both waited patiently. “Out of everything that’s out there, that’s what I’m afraid the most.”

“We’ll find a way. If we find one of these things along the way, we’ll manage.” You had certainty in your voice, making Leon discreetly look at you. It was incredible how you remained brave, even if apparently – even when you had all the reasons to be scared.

As the conversation came to an end, you went back to your walk towards the hospital – now you could see the big, white building with green windows in the distance; the luminous sign with the letters spelling “Hospital Arklay Hill” was clearly stained with blood and some of them had a hard time shining, twinkling among the darkness of that night.

“Do you know what she was talking about, Leon?” Your question was quiet, following him as fast as you could without attracting a horde of zombies.

“I’m not sure…” He glanced quickly over his shoulders. “I saw a lot of things that couldn’t be considered human in Raccoon, that’s why I asked her to describe it to me. It’d be easier if we went in knowing what we’ll find, but the virus affects people in different ways: some become undead, others mutate into things that could easily come out of a horror movie.”

That made you think in silence – it wasn’t just Leon who had his doubts about what was going on in New Setosa. Initially, everyone thought it was a sudden epidemics of a virus attacking the nervous system: some people were quarantined in the hospital, until it started to spread – you had never seen a disease that spread so quickly. You also had never seen a pandemics, but that’s how you imagined an epicenter to be: non-stop contagion, loss of control and deaths. So many deaths.

You were scared. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were. Your feet didn’t really want to follow your will to move forward – but, if you didn’t go with Leon, he would have to go in alone.

And if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want to be alone – as well as if you were one of those people in the hospital, you would want someone to save you. You couldn’t turn back now.

“Are you ok?” Leon checked while taking the map from one of his pockets to make sure you were in the right path and what the objective was. Leon remembered quite well, but he wanted to have a better idea – and maybe, seeing the hospital in the distance, he could understand the proportions of the rooms better. “You’re too quiet all of a sudden.”

“We barely know each other and there you are, already saying I talk too much.” You raised one eyebrow as he just took a deep breath to tell you how wrong you were. “Relax. I know. I just needed to release some tension. We need to go to the second hall and turn in the first corridor.”

“The second hall is through that door, right?” He pointed to a passage closed by a milky glass door, blocking your view of the next room. You nodded in agreement. “Let’s go then. Time to hope we won’t find the thing that worries Valerie.”

With a gesture from his hands, you prepared your gun and, now walking by his side, you quickly followed to the door you hoped would still work. As soon as you approached, the doors glided open enough for just one of you to squeeze through, jamming midway open with a strength that made it tremble. You exchanged looks and Leon crossed to the other side before you, immediately checking the right side of the room as you followed him and checked the left side.

It smelled like death. The hall was big enough to harbor a considerable amount of undead, but you found only three. One of them didn’t seem to understand how to move around the reception desk and let itself free from wherever it was stuck, another was stationary, staring at you both. And the third was banging mercilessly at the vending machine, as if it had swallowed its coin and it didn’t spew out whatever it had bought. The rest, was the classic: dead people torn apart on the floor and chairs, the walls stained in blood.

“We’re running through them?” Your question was valid: you had noticed Leon had a tendency to save each and whatever resource you found or had along the way, so you thought it was better to check before doing anything.

“Hmmm…” Leon thought for a while. Going through was a good option, but it would be a problem if you found anything worse in the corridor. If that was the case, you would be stuck, with problems in the front and in the back. “We don’t know what’s in the corridor, we might get sandwiched between this problem and something worse.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Even if your answer was serious, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing internally at his choice of words. After all, it wasn’t everyday you heard ‘sandwiched’ in such a serious conversation. “Let’s go then.”

With those words, you pointed your gun to the stationary zombie as Leon followed to the reception. With two certain shots, you both wiped out those zombies, drawing the attention of the third one, who slowly turned around and finally reached out to you, dragging itself as you met Leon in the middle of the room once more. With coordinated shots, the vending machine zombie was exterminated.

“If I knew you’d shoot as well, I’d have saved the bullet.” Leon gave you a small smile, making you mirror his expression. “You shoot better than a lot of people I met.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You answered in a quick laugh, walking by his side towards the long corridor you now needed to cross.

Leon would have asked what you meant with those words, but as soon as you reached the big white doors that blocked the corridor, you fell silent. You were lucky the survivors at least tried to leave and ended up close to the entrance: the place was huge and if they were in the most distant wings, you would have serious problems.

With your backs to the door, each of you on each side, you waited until he nodded in a sign for you to enter. You both pushed the heavy door quickly, pointing the guns as soon as you entered the corridor, ready to shoot the first thing that appeared in front of your eyes.

But there was nothing.

The corridor stretched into a pitch black darkness with broken light bulbs that twinkled in whatever rhythm, humming with the energy that crossed the useless filaments. A couple of bodies were thrown on the floor – at least as far as your eyes could see – chewed by something… Different. The walls had blood stains in shapes of hands, on the floor, feet that tried to flee in despair. Beds, syringes, gloves, hospital paraphernalia… It was all tossed along the way, as if the place was hit by a hurricane – and now, it laid in a heavy silence in the foul air.

In Leon’s experience, that kind of situation was worse than the chaos: when there were screams of despair, you usually knew what was attacking and where the survivors were. When there was only silence, all you could do was to pay attention to whatever noises and hope you wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Stay alert.” Leon murmured as low as he could, leading the way. Your steps were calmer and a lot more careful now that you didn’t know what you could find. With his eyes now getting used to the lack of light, Leon found the door Valerie told you about – a little farther than he had expected.

Your steps were quiet behind Leon: even if you knew how to shoot and you wanted to be there, you couldn’t deny he was the best person to lead the way – after all, he was trained to that kind of situation.

You carefully dodged the pools of blood on the floor. You didn’t want to run the risk of slipping and falling over all that mess – you were already sufficiently dirty and all you wanted was a good shower to feel as good as new. As you crossed a good part of the corridor, you approached the first passage to the right that connected that corridor to another hospital wing – through another equally dark corridor.

You would’ve had normally walked by it if you hadn’t heard a strange noise coming from that corridor.

It was like an animal’s hiss. You allowed Leon to keep walking as you turned around to make sure there was nothing else needing rescue.

And it was the first time you saw that.

A creature that looked like it had no skin, with long claws, roaming the corridor with its four paws on the floor; sharp teeth framing a long, menacing tongue. You froze in place, terror filling your eyes. It was the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life and you didn’t know what to do. Had that thing seen you? Should you shoot?

Before you could make any kind of noise, though, one of Leon’s hands quickly covered your mouth, pulling you towards him. You didn’t resist: with eyes wide open, you turned to him and found Leon with one of his fingers on his own lips so you would remain silent. You nodded frantically and, as he let you go, Leon held one of your hands and started walking as silently as he could so you could reach the door Valerie told you about.

It wasn’t that far away, but it seemed enough for a marathon. You heard that thing sniffing around, paws heavily hitting the floor, chasing you: slowly, calculated, searching for something it knew it was escaping. The claws scratched the hospital floor, the animal hiss louder and louder. You held Leon’s hand with a little more strength.

If you had to choose how to die, it would be by zombie. Never by something like that thing that chased you.

You risked a look above your shoulders, finding that thing finally reaching the spot in the corridor where you were before. There was so little left for you to reach the door. Leon pulled you closer, walking a few last steps to get to the next passage.

You almost said something when you saw that thing jerking its ugly head towards you. Stopping in front of the door, Leon finally looked at it: they were about to be noticed. You were so close. It knew.

Leon looked at you and tried, as best as possible, to tell you through hand signs to run as soon as he opened the door. You nodded in affirmation and, as soon as Leon pushed one of the metal bars to open it, the thing raised its head like a dog, screeching like chalk on a board, viciously running towards you.

“Go!” Leon did his best so you entered the corridor before him, quickly following. To your terror, the thing that chased you was too fast.

Leon wouldn’t be able to get in: having crossed the door, you saw the claws of that thing already prepared to tear his back open – and that would be a huge problem.

As he tried to escape, you didn’t think twice: aiming your gun, you almost emptied it in that thing’s head. You didn’t know how many bullets you needed, nor how many of them were there, and you didn’t even care if you needed to go on in complete silence – you wouldn’t allow that thing to kill Leon in such a stupid manner.

The creature fell heavily on the floor while Leon stumbled into the corridor you found yourself in. That thing’s tongue stretched until almost hitting your feet, as if even in death it wanted to tear you apart.

“What the fuck is this?!” That was the only thing you managed to ask, still staring at that thing with widened eyes, your hands trembling on your gun. You didn’t even have to state the adrenaline shock had been strong.

“Dunno. The guys at the station called it Licker.” Leon took a few deep breaths, a little discombobulated by how you had emptied your gun on the Licker instead of running in despair or screaming for help – saving his life in the process. “The good news, they are as blind as a bat. The bad news, those things smell and hear very well, so we need to be very careful and not make any noises when we see one of them.”

“Hmmm… I remember that name, Claire mentioned it a few times…” You also took a deep breath, giving that thing a last look. “I didn’t think it would be that ugly. And scary.”

“Oh, c’mon. They could win a beauty pageant.” Albeit the seriousness, you could hear a hint of a laugh in the back of his voice as you got back on track.

At least you were lucky enough for that place to be empty.

“I’ve never seen such a funny person in an apocalypse.” You aimed your gun above Leon’s shoulders in case something appeared in front of him. You didn’t hear any menacing noises, but that was only worse, considering the situation.

“Well, not my first apocalypse.” He shrugged, thinking about his own words. Who would’ve known one day he would find himself saying something like that. He imagined where he would be in four or five years, how he would handle that kind of situation. He hoped he would be an agent who feared nothing and could deal with things objectively, and even with a certain level of humor. “Which door? Fourth or fifth?”

“Actually, fifth or sixth. She didn’t really know.” You corrected him, pointing to the nearest door. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah. You go ahead.” He pointed the door with his head, giving you cover.

“Valerie?” You lightly knocked on the door to avoid too many noises, even if you had just done a whole rock show with all those shots in the Licker’s head a while ago. You didn’t notice, but a hiss echoed from the end of the corridor, making Leon aim his gun and his flashlight into the darkness, finding anything in return. “It’s us! Y/n and Leon!”

You heard a commotion inside the room and it confirmed you were at the right door. While the click of it opening and the handle moved to greet you, the hiss repeated itself, louder – but, as soon as the door opened, the sound of claws hitting the floor added to the soundtrack.

You, Leon and Valerie looked in the direction of the origin of the sounds – with the claws taking a vicious speed – making you hold Leon by his bulletproof vest and run inside the room as fast as you could, not allowing him nor Valerie to think of something else. The nurse, though, was quick enough to lock the door as soon as you stumbled inside, making the creature lose your track – without ever leaving the corridor.

“You’re here! Alive!” Valerie immediately locked her arms around your neck, holding you as if there was no tomorrow. You widened your eyes, glancing at Leon. He just giggled: it wasn’t everyday he saw someone so uncomfortable with hugs as you seemed to be at that moment. “Thank you so much…!”

“Thank you for what, Valerie?” A grumpy man interrupted the moment, stuffing his clammy hands in the dirty lab coat pocket. “They can very well end up locked up in here with us! They haven’t done anything to save us yet!”

“But we will, sir.” Leon tried to be diplomatic, noticing not so friendly looks shot at the man from you and Valerie. Someone had to be the voice of reason in there, or the very survivors would end up killing each other. “The goal is to leave here right now so we’ll get to the school at 22h20.”

“And then we’re gonna do what? Open the books and start studyin’?” The man wiped some of the sweat that dripped from his greasy hair, his little eyes filled with anger amidst that stuffy room. “Or you’re gonna find a magic way to get us out of this damned city?”

If Leon was younger, he would’ve answered with calm and patience.

But he wasn’t that rookie cop from Raccoon City anymore. He didn’t need to have that much patience. Not after all he had been through.

“As Special Agent from the Government working under direct orders from the President, I have a special task team with the best soldiers from the army, ready for an extraction operation of the survivors in New Setosa.” Leon was probably being too harsh, but, honestly, someone would have to put that guy in his place, be it by being gentle or by brute force. And, right now, Leon wasn’t that inclined to being gentle. “I think it’s enough magic to deal with this situation.”

And that talk was over.

“Under direct orders from the President…?” You had your arms crossed, slowly approaching Leon while he organized what was left of the ammo and loaded the shotgun. He raised his eyes to you, finding you with a small smile coloring your lips. That made Leon mirror your reaction, a little embarrassed by the way he spoke before.

But that guy really pissed him off.

After his answer, the survivors gathered to listen to the instructions on how they would cross the city to the school – having that little intermission to prepare ammo, items they wanted to take with them, care for any wounds and get ready for the journey to safety. And, while Leon got ready in his own lone corner of the room, you approached to talk to him.

“Yeah… That’s what happens when you survive a disaster like Raccoon.” He sighed slightly. “I ended up as a Special Agent just because of that, I’m the only one with this expertise.”

“I doubt all Special Agents have direct orders from the President of the United States.” You leaned on the bed Leon used to keep the guns and ammo as he counted and organized them. “C’mon, Leon. You didn’t get here ‘just’ because your star twinkled in Raccoon. To have this kind of job, you need to not only be a good agent, but an intelligent one as well.”

“Oh, well…” Leon shrugged, feeling his cheeks slightly burning and trying to do his best for you not to notice it. At least he was lucky: the lights from the room were broken. “You’re gonna have to ask that to the President.”

You narrowed your eyes, smiling right after. You didn’t know if it was just something he was saying to escape that conversation and dodge a compliment or if he was trying to tease you.

And, when you noticed the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips, you knew it was a bit of both.

“So cocky.” You muttered back, making him raise his eyebrows and stare you in shock – but clearly holding back a laugh. “After that, I’ll only leave you with the shotgun ‘cause you’re the one dealing with that monstrosity outside, Mr. super-government-agent friends with the President.”

“Ok, I’m not complainin’.” And he loaded said gun, already leaving it ready with the strap across his shoulders. “Here. More ammo for your gun. After you shot that Licker like a cowboy, you’re gonna need it.”

“And I would’ve shot it more if I could.” You answered while reloading your handgun. Two magazines were probably more than Leon could give you at the moment – but you had already learned he had a big heart. “I’ll lead the way? As we agreed before?”

“I’m the one with the shotgun, ain’t I?” He raised one eyebrow, making you flash a little smile at the answer. “At that pace, you’ll end up workin’ for the President as well.”

“Yeah, right…” You shook your head, deflecting the compliment. Even so, you winked back at him. “If you’re my partner, I’ll think about it.”

“I can make that happen, alright?” Leon pointed at you, making you giggle. “You ready? It’s time to go.”

“Yeah. I think you should ask them that.”

Indeed, the survivors didn’t look too excited – but as Leon knew quite well, you didn’t need excitement to save your own life: you just had to run and never look back.

To be continued...

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oliverreedmasterass · 2 years ago

Text

Sam Kiszka Sees God While Eating Spicy Wings | A Hot Ones Parody

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions of incontinence, just overall nastiness, milk

Synopsis: Sam Kiszka goes on Hot Ones and experiences an exceptionally devastating fall from grace

Notes: thank you @jmkho for reminding me how awful it is to rub your eyes after touching something spicy!!

_______________________________________

“Hey, what’s going on everybody!” Sean Evans smiled wide at the camera. “From First We Feast, I’m Sean Evans and you’re watching Hot Ones. It’s the show with hot questions and even hotter wings.”

Across the table, Sam was sitting with his hands folded in his lap, patiently waiting for his introduction.

“Today I’m joined by Sam Kiszka of the rock group, Greta Van Fleet, who is releasing their third studio album, Starcatcher, on July 21st.” Sean turned from the camera to acknowledge Sam. “It’s great to meet you, Sam.”

“Likewise, Sean,” Sam called back. With a grunt, he leaned over the table to extend a hand to Sean to shake. Sean seemed thrown off by the gesture, but scooted forward in his stool to grab Sam’s hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m starving, I could really go for some wings right now,” Sam joked.

“How do you handle hot things?” Sean leaned back in his chair and studied Sam, as if sizing him up. From the look on his face, it seemed like Sean was skeptical that Sam’s thin stature would be able to handle the scorching heat of the hot sauces that were coming his way.

“I’m all for it,” Sam waved Sean off. “I’m into this kind of shit, permanently damaging my taste buds and destroying my stomach for days on end. This is what I do to feel alive.”

“I feel like you’re being sarcastic.”

“A little bit,” Sam chuckled. “But I do like a bit of spice to my meals. I’m the guy in my family who needs to put a little Tabasco on everything.”

“Some of these are gonna be a step up from Tabasco,” Sean warned him. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just about,” Sam replied. He gently pushed the full glass of milk in front of him onto Sean’s side of the table and then hoisted a 24 pack of Corona Lite in front of him. Sean watched with interest as Sam tore into the cardboard casing and retrieved a bottle, pulling off the top with his teeth. “Want one?” Sam asked.

“Sure?” Sean guessed. Sam started to open a second bottle with his teeth, but someone from the crew quickly forced a bottle opener into his hand before he could.

“Oh, thanks?” Sam asked, looking around to see who had given him the instrument. He didn’t understand the point of bottle openers when teeth literally exist but, because he was on film, he popped off the cap like a normal person and slid the drink to Sean.

“Do you find that beer takes the edge off of the spiciness?” Sean asked. Sam shrugged back at him.

“I just wanted an excuse to crack into that 24 pack,” Sam replied after shoving a lime into his drink and taking a thoughtful gulp. “So, what’s the first level?”

1. The Classic - Chili Maple (Hot Ones Hot Sauce) - 1,600 Scoville Heat Units

“We’ve got The Classic Chili Maple sauce coming in at 16,000 Scoville Heat Units,” Sean shared. Sam stared down at the vegan wing in front of him and gave it a testing poke.

“Say,” Sam had to ask, “has anyone ever tapped out after one wing? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely gonna make it to ten, I just want to know what I’m up against here.”

“We’ve had a few guests definitely not finish the interview,” Sean replied with a grin. “DJ Khaled and Ricky Gervais had a pretty rough time. Not as bad as Bobby Lee though.”

A few of the crew members groaned behind the cameras, which made Sam perk up.

“What happened to Bobby?” he leaned forward to conspire with Sean.

“Let’s just say his body rejected the wings pretty harshly,” Sean slowly thought out his words. “From the back end.”

“Fuck,” Sam choked out and then took another sip from his bottle. “Well god, I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen to me.”

“For the sake of me and the crew, I hope so too,” Sean said. Then, he held up his wing and Sam followed suit.

“Cheers,” Sam said with a cheeky smile, raising his wing up to Sean. They both took a hearty bite and immediately Sam groaned outwards. “This is the shit,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s so sweet and tangy.”

Sean watched as Sam proceeded to devour the rest of the wing, to the point where the sauce formed a ring around his mouth and covered all of his fingers.

“Do you want a napkin?” Sean let out a laugh. Sam waved away a crew member that was trying to hand him a paper napkin.

“Nah ah,” he said, food still in his mouth. “I’m saving all of this for later.”

“Okay, Sam,” Sean tried to regain Sam’s attention, “I do have some questions.”

“Fire away,” Sam motioned for him to go with one hand while he licked the other.

“So, legend has it, your older twin brothers, Jake and Josh, would drag you down to the basement when you were in grade school to play with them. At what point did you realize that music was something you wanted to do, and not just something your brothers were forcing you to do?”

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna ask me about Frankenmuth,” Sam breathed out a sigh of relief. “Every single interview, I swear, we have to talk about living in a small Bavarian town in Michigan with the world’s largest Christmas store.”

“I’ll take that question off my list,” Sean joked, pretending to scribble something out on a paper next to him. “No, I promise you’ll get some questions you haven’t heard before.”

“Hot wings and new questions, now we’re talking!”

Sam continued to lick at his fingers, but then shot back upright when he remembered that he hadn’t answered the question.

“Oh, uh, being the youngest sibling has its trials and tribulations. I feel like I was fortunate that Jake and Josh paved the way for me, in a sense, setting expectations and showing me the right and wrong things to do. I’ve always admired them.” Sam stopped and whispered to Sean, “Actually, cut that out, I don’t want them knowing that, it’ll feed into their already massive egos.”

“Cut that part out,” Sean turned to call at the producer.

“My parents raised my siblings and I in a musical house: my dad plays blues with some local guys, my grandpa is in the Polka Hall of Fame, so I feel like I have these musical genes coursing through my veins. Jake was the first one to really take music seriously and, of course, anything he does, Josh will follow suit since the two are practically inseparable. Sure, when I was younger there were other things that I wanted to do than practice for eight hours straight in the basement, but it is something I pretty quickly grew to love. I enjoy building things, and creating music is a fascinating experiment, trying to connect with people sonically. I think from a young age I recognized the value of human connection and wanted to keep pursuing that.”

“So, going back to the musical genes, it’s almost like you were meant to do this,” Sean clarified with Sam.

“God, that makes me sound conceited, doesn’t it?” Sam scrunched up his face at the thought.

“Not necessarily,” Sean tried to assure him. “It just means that you’re on the track that feels right to you, which is something I’d hope everyone can accomplish.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” Sam nodded. He thoughtfully licked the remaining sauce off his fingers.

“You look ready for another wing,” Sean observed.

“Hell fucking yeah I am,” Sam said.

2. Banjee Ranch - Shaquanda’s - 6,200 Scoville Heat Units

“This one looks good,” Sam commented while he took in the mustard-colored sauce. “I can see the herbs in there, I already know the flavor is going to explode in my mouth.”

Sam dug in and, once more, looked like he was experiencing heaven. Sean cut in before Sam started moaning again.

“Last year you were featured on a song with Stealing Oceans and Scott Avett called ‘Stars on the Ceiling.’ On this track you bust out a pretty impressive guitar solo, which I heard you came up with on the spot. How did your brother, Jake, feel about that?”

“He didn’t believe me when I first showed him the song and told him I was the guitar,” Sam chuckled. “He called me a shithead.”

“Was he a little threatened?” Sean guessed.

“He knows he’s better than me, he’s got nothing to worry about,” Sam shook his head. “He did have a few pointers for me afterwards about different tones and effects I could have used to make the track sound more complex, but I’m really happy with how it turned out. At the end of the day it’s just a fun, jazzy, funky love song, which I think the world could use more of.”

“How do you feel about dipping your toes in other genres?” Sean asked after enjoying another bite of his own wing. “Jazz and funk stray pretty far from Greta Van Fleet’s sound.”

“I’m all for it,” Sam couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I mean, even within Greta Van

Fleet, sure, we’re a rock band at our core, but if you compare our sound from our first EP to now, there’s a massive difference. Yes, we aren’t producing a hip hop album or country or something like that, but we really enjoy experimenting with sound and blending genres to create something innovative and attention-grabbing.”

Sam seemed content with his reply since, when met with a second of silence, he finished off the rest of his wing and, to Sean’s dismay, let out a long, deep groan. As if that wasn’t out of pocket enough, Sam wiped the last part of his wing around his mouth, gathering the sauce from the first round to enjoy. By the time he was done, his face resembled that of a toddler after an especially messy meal.

“This is a walk in the park,” Sam told Sean. “I’m having an absolute blast.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Sean extended a compliment where it was due. “You’ve still got a ways to go though, don’t get too cocky.”

“You sound like my bandmate, Danny,” Sam chuckled.

3. Cadejo - Donis - 15,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Are you ready for a step up on the heat scale?” Sean asked as a crew member placed a new wing in front of Sam. Sam grabbed the hot sauce bottle from the line in front of him and inspected it.

“Habanero? Now we’re talking.”

Sean gaped while Sam dumped a hearty pile of the sauce on his plate and then, with his sticky fingers, rolled his wing in it so it covered the entire surface, not missing a single spot.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sean tried to talk Sam down, but his competitiveness had entirely taken over.

“I think I do, Sean,” Sam looked up at the host with a surprising amount of intensity. Sean had to take a split second to ponder if he had made a massive mistake letting Sam on his show, but he cleared his throat and returned to his list of questions while Sam practically inhaled his sauce-drenched wing, entirely unaffected by the heat.

“So, Justin Bieber,” Sean started.

“Oh boy,” Sam let out a loud laugh. “Justin Fucking Bieber. Has he ever been on this show?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I was gonna ask how well he did.”

“We’ll get him on here and you can come back and have a wing-off.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’ll be there,” Sam stared Sean down. “We have a lot of unfinished business.”

“Speaking of which,” Sean cut in, “you claim that he stole your birkenstocks at Coachella back in 2018.”

“He did,” Sam looked directly into the camera to confirm.

“It’s been five years and I’m assuming he hasn’t given them back to you?”

“Not even a sorry note,” Sam frowned.

“What would it take for Justin Bieber to earn your forgiveness?”

Sam leaned back and let out a deep exhale, looking lost in thought. The camera slowly zoomed in on his face, tracking his eyes that seemed to be searching every part of the ceiling.

“This is a hard question,” Sam admitted. “My mom always encouraged forgiveness. She said that resentment was more of a punishment for the person feeling that emotion than the one it was directed towards. The problem is, I really liked those birks. I mean, they were my first pair: we’d been through a lot. So, I guess the rational answer is I would forgive him if he gave them back to me and they were in the same condition as when he took them. I’m sure he has some nice cars too, though. If he let me take one of those I would probably forgive him.”

“Are you a big car guy?” Sean asked.

“I am,” Sam nodded. “I mean, I have one car that I drive around, I don’t need to be that guy that owns 17 cars and only drives one or two of them a handful of times a year. But I think if Justin offered me a lamborghini or a ferrari, I would probably take it.”

“You and me both,” Sean laughed.

“I’d drive it to the grocery store, just doing mundane errands, going 25 mph like a law-abiding citizen. It would drive all the car enthusiasts out there insane.”

“I respect safe driving,” Sean nodded.

“Safe driving is cool driving,” Sam agreed.

“Do you like any Justin Bieber songs?” Sean slipped in another question.

Sam looked on the brink of snorting, but stopped himself short so he wouldn’t offend anyone.

“His music is, uh, not quite for me,” Sam tried to be as civil as possible without expressing his intense disdain for pop music. “I respect what he does and I will admit that he’s a talented musician, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to listen to any of his albums.”

“Fair enough,” Sean shrugged.

“I feel like I’m in the hot seat,” Sam joked. “I’ll go home and find that people on Twitter canceled me for having bad taste or something.”

“I think you’ll be okay,” Sean reassured him.

4. Los Calientes - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - 36,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Another Hot Ones sauce!” Sam exclaimed when he saw the next bottle. “You guys do a great job with branding, this is such a niche market.”

“We were lucky the idea blew up,” Sean smiled. “You’ll find that this one has a lot of flavor packed in with a punchy blend of sweet, tart, and spicy. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Sam grinned. He poured the sauce onto his wing and then shook a drop out onto his tongue. “Oh hell yeah,” he said, not breaking a single sweat.

“We have a segment on this show called ‘Explain That Gram,’” Sean shared with Sam. Sam’s face contorted into a look of worry. “We look at your Instagram and you explain some of the photos that need a little extra context. First off, you look really concerned, why?”

“I don’t remember what I have posted on there,” Sam admitted.

“Nothing too incriminating, don’t worry,” Sean told Sam as he grabbed a laptop from one of the crew members and pulled up the first image. “Your Instagram is highly stylized, it looks like you put a lot of thought into it: where did the 3 thematic posts idea come from?”

“I started doing that a few years back,” Sam tried to remember, “I’m pretty sure my now ex-girlfriend introduced me to the idea that you need to maximize the formatting of Instagram to make a page that deviates from the norm while looking pleasing to the eye. I’m not a huge social media fan, but there is something really satisfying about using that three column setup to create a string of posts that, as you scroll through them, almost look like they’re happening in chapters. It just feels more put together, I guess.”

“It was nice to look through, I agree with you there,” Sean said. “I’ll need to take some notes.”

“Hey, there you go, Sean,” Sam beamed.

“Let’s look at this photo first,” Sean said, turning the laptop in Sam’s direction.

Sam leaned forward and squinted at the photo of his homemade pickles.

“Mmm,” Sam licked his lips. “That was a good batch.”

“Pandemic hobby? Sean raised an eyebrow.

“You got it,” Sam nodded. “Being stuck inside for that amount of time was like an out of body experience. After a week, I don’t know if this happened to you too, but I started to feel like I was in The Yellow Wallpaper or something. So I tried to dodge that feeling with homemade pickles. There was an article in a magazine I get monthly and I figured, eh what the hell? It didn’t take that many ingredients, I like pickles, the science behind food fascinates me, it all felt right.”

“Do I see some chilis and garlic in there?” Sean asked as he studied the photo closer.

“I put a bunch of shit in there,” Sam laughed. “I love experimenting with things. You know, it’s really stunning how many flavors a cucumber can absorb when it’s in brine. It’s like the sponge of the food world.”

“I’ve never heard someone speak so fondly about pickles,” Sean mused.

“I appreciate the little things in life,” Sam said. He took another sip of his beer, finishing it off, and nearly choked on the lime that had popped back out of the bottle and into his mouth. Sean lurched up like he was ready to give Sam the heimlich, but Sam spit the remains of the lime out onto the table before he could. Sam coughed. “Whooo lord, that was a close one.”

“Are you good to keep going?” Sean looked concerned.

“Absolutely,” Sam brightened up. “You got another Instagram photo?”

Sean still seemed a bit worried, but he opened the next photo.

“Oh man,” Sam snorted, “I should have seen that one coming.”

“There’s a lot to explain here,” Sean agreed.

Sam looked closer at the old photo of him with “Fuck” written on his forehead while he stood in front of an impressive fire.

“I really don’t know if there is even any context to go with this.”

“I appreciate that you tagged the Frankenmuth Fire Department as the location.”

“Oh yeah, we definitely weren’t burning shit at the fire department,” Sam declared, but then widened his eyes and turned away from the camera.

“I’ve got one last post that I want to highlight and then we can move onto the next sauce. There’s a short video of you and your bandmate, Daniel Wagner, out in what looks like the desert, wrestling with a snake?”

“Okay, this is actually a funny story,” Sam clapped his hands together. “Basically we were doing the whole tour bus thing on one of our earlier North America tours and we were trying to hit as many national parks as we could. Daniel went into this gift shop at the Grand Canyon and secretly bought this fake snake because, you know, he thought it would be hilarious to prank my brothers and I. While we were at Monument Park, which is on the border of Arizona and Utah and absolutely stunning, Danny pulled this big old rubber snake out of nowhere and started to fight with it.”

“You booked it in that video.”

It was a really realistic looking snake,” Sam exclaimed. “I like to keep my distance from things that slither.” Sam started to mess around with his wing but snapped his head back up to look at Sean. “There’s a reason why there’s no audio in that video,” Sam added. “I was swearing like a sailor. There were a bunch of kids nearby too, I don’t know how we didn’t get thrown out of the park.”

“You’re just living the rocker lifestyle,” Sean kidded, which earned a hearty laugh from Sam. “Thanks for your insights, I’m sure quite a few peoples’ burning questions have been resolved after that segment, ‘Explain the Gram.’”

“Happy to help,” Sam continued to laugh.

5. Ghost Pepper Hot Sauce - Brooklyn Delhi - 39,000 Scoville Heat Units

“We’re in the spicier terrain now,” Sean shared.

“Ah yes,” Sam bounced in his seat. “This is the place I like to call home.”

“Coming in at 39,000 Scoville heat units, this one relies on the punch delivered from India’s famed ghost pepper, bhut jolokia, which provides a long-lasting heat.”

“I love it,” Sam rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. “It’s been a while since I had a ghost pepper. I used to pop those puppies all the time just to feel something.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest quite like you on this show,” Sean admitted.

“I love expanding my palate,” Sam shared. “And knowing my boundaries when it comes to spicy food. Right now I’m pretty sure that boundary doesn’t exist.”

“Considering you’ve been chugging Coronas like they’re water and I haven’t seen a single tear form in your eyes, you might be right.”

“I’m just built different. I also used to eat fire ants as a kid, that might be helping me out too.”

“Did you really?” Sean looked beyond disturbed.

“No,” Sam laughed at how gullible the host was. “Fire ants are native to the southern states, they haven’t made the great migration quite that far up north yet.”

“You could have had me fully convinced,” Sean shared.

“I’m not gonna crack at all while eating this,” Sam promised as he pointed down to his wing. Sean held off on biting into his wing so he could concentrate on Sam’s facial expression as he pulled a large chunk of fake meat off and chewed it around. His face remained as stoic as a marble statue.

“No emotion at all.”

The camera pulled closer to Sam to show that his face was blank, not a single expression creeping out. He gulped the food down and let out a large burp.

“The seal of approval!” he pumped his fist.

“Now, Sam,” Sean said after finishing his wing, “You’ve said before that one of your favorite hobbies is finding vintage clothing.”

“Yup,” Sam nodded, “I love that shit.”

“Your outfits for your Dreams in Gold tour, which just wrapped up recently, were some of the most detailed pieces I’ve ever seen. How do you and your team come up with the vision for your stage outfits, and what is the intersection going on there between clothing and your music?”

“Greta Van Fleet is a band that loves symbols,” Sam replied. “Take one look at our album, The Battle At Garden’s Gate, and I think you’ll get it.”

While he talked, Sam made a show of pulling his shoes off under the table with his feet and wiggling out of his socks. Sean made a face at the stench that was coming from beneath the rounded table but then tried to maintain a poker face while he listened to Sam’s response.

“For this tour, we all agreed that every aspect of our show needed to contribute to a larger message. My brothers and I are all avid fans of film and, after watching enough movies, you start to realize how each costume is built with purpose. Pair that philosophy with my love for clothes and how they serve as a means of personal expression, and I became the largest supporter of teaming with a talented costume designer to prepare our outfits for the tour. Before our Strange Horizons tour we were wearing shit from thrift stores. I mean, it was fun to hunt around the day of a show for something to wear on stage that night, but nothing looked coherent. With our Dreams In Gold tour, we really took the first big step to define who we are as a band, and what we’re trying to achieve with our music. Jake and I have a lot of swords on our pieces, made by the ever exceptional Amber Doyle. We threw a lot of ideas at her, and she did a great job compressing them all into coherent designs.”

“That sleeve you’ve got on your left arm is something else.”

“Thanks, yeah, I started using that sleeve design during our Strange Horizons tour. I was really interested in the designs of webbing and wings and just the overall movement that they can bring to a stationary piece. Amber really liked the design when we came to her, and she promised she would keep that look consistent for my new pieces.”

“Does the wing ever get in the way of your playing?”

“Amber’s a genius,” Sam grinned, “She managed to design it in a way where I hardly noticed it was there. That is, unless I wanted to show it off.”

“Are you and your bandmates back at the drawing board now, planning your new designs for your upcoming tour, Starcatcher?”

“I can’t reveal too much,” Sam wagged a finger at Sean. “That was a good try. But I can share that we’re branching out in a new direction. These costumes have become an integral part of our show, and they aren’t going away any time soon. The challenging part is finding that sweet spot where we can wear things that look visually stunning and nuanced while maintaining some level of comfort so we can perform to our best ability. We’re testing the limits now, and I’m excited to see what the reception is to our new pieces. It should be good.”

“I wish I could have snuck an answer out of you on that last one,” Sean slapped his hand down on the table in joking frustration.

“You won’t have to wait too long for an answer,” Sam tried to comfort him. “Our tour starts in July, so you only need to wait a few more months. I am really looking forward to seeing how fans will dress at our shows for this tour,” Sam thoughtfully added. “They take this fashion thing as seriously as I do - you should see some of the outfits, these fans look like they should be up on stage with us. They’ll make replicas of our stage outfits with their own hands. It’s something else.”

“You’ve got an artistic vision that people can get behind,” Sean commended Sam.

“It’s an exciting thing,” Sam nodded back with a twinkle in his eye.

6. Mushroom Mayhem - Torchbearer Sauces - 68,000 Scoville Heat Units

“You’re vegan, right?” Sean asked Sam.

“Yes sir,” Sam nodded.

“I think you’ll appreciate this next sauce. It’s got a blend of mushrooms to provide a hint of umami, which contributes to an overall meaty flavor. But this sauce is about as vegan as they come.”

Sam licked his lips.

“Yummy yummy in my tummy.” He stopped for a second and reflected on what had just come out of his mouth. “Sorry,” his face turned scarlet, “that was weird.”

“It was like you regressed for a second there,” Sean commented. “We’re past the halfway mark now, this is where things start to get a bit intense.”

“Finally,” Sam remarked. He took a hefty bite and then chased it down with his second bottle of Corona. “Okay,” he said after clearing his throat, “that one did have a bit of a punch.”

“The cracks are starting to show,” Sean teased him, which Sam responded to by rapidly shaking his head.

“Nah ah,” Sam protested. “I took that one like a champ.”

To prove himself to Sean, Sam took the bottle and, once more, shook some of the sauce onto his tongue. Sean watched him with his mouth slightly ajar as Sam swallowed it down and patted his stomach.

“Delicious.”

“You can take that home,” Sean motioned towards the bottle. “We let all of our guests take whichever hot sauces they like best, but man, at this point I think you need to just take all of the bottles.”

“Oh good, I’m glad I don’t have to sneak these out under your nose,” Sam nodded. Sean pretended like he didn’t hear that comment and returned back to his questions.

“You and your band released a series of short Masterclass parodies back in 2021. I have to know, what inspired the character, Cal A Bungah?”

“I’m so glad I can finally address this,” Sam sounded genuine. “Cal A Bungah was the character that started it all: I had all the guys over and we were in the kitchen, making some appetizers and I just pulled this cocky chef character out of my ass like it was nothing. There’s an inside joke among my friends and family that I can’t cook for shit which, I don’t know about that, but I decided to roll with it. So was talking this big game about being a celebrity chef and knowing everything and how meat eaters like Gordon Ramsey are going to rot in hell, and Josh was like, ‘dude, we should make a video about this.’”

“How much of that video was improv?” Sean asked.

“All of it,” Sam grinned. “They put me in that goofy chef outfit, said ‘rolling’ and I just went to town.”

“I have a few rapid fire questions for Cal, if he’d be willing to answer,” Sean looked Sam down. Sam beamed at the idea and let out a loud laugh when one of the crew members passed him a chef hat. Sam pulled it on over his long, brown locks, and gave Sean a dorky smile.

“How do I look?”

“Professional,” Sean replied. “Now, Cal, do your skills extend any farther than cutting veggies and making a margarita?”

“I can’t believe you would ask someone with this much skill and prowess such a demeaning question,” Sam balked. “Pass.”

Sean let out a short laugh and returned to his list.

“What’s the problem with squash?”

“There’s no problem with squash,” Sam said as he folded his hands in front of him. “That reaction I had on film was a raw response to something larger than life. When I saw that squash, you know, actually held it in my hands, I felt like I was holding a part of God. I think you’d be rendered speechless too if you went through the same thing.”

“Fair enough. What makes the perfect margarita?”

“I’ll show you,” Sam answered. Sean called out in shock as Sam leaned under the table and grabbed a lime, some tequila, triple sec orange liqueur, ice, salt, and a cocktail shaker.

“You were keeping all of that under there?” Sean sounded stunned as he looked under the table to see if Sam was hiding any other secrets.

“Dave Grohl got to bring drinks on here, why can’t I?”

Sam twisted the lid off of the tequila and dumped a generous amount into the shaker before taking a swig of the booze straight from the bottle.

“Just have to make sure it’s not poisoned,” Sam explained himself. “The key to a perfect margarita is measuring with your heart. I don’t know what one fluid ounce looks like and, at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. So you just kinda eyeball it and, when it looks like enough, you stop.”

“A true master of your craft,” Sean had to quip.

“Add a splash of triple sec,” Sam continued, and then squeeze some lime juice in there for good measure. Then you shake the shit out of it.”

Sam stood from his seat after securing the lid over the cocktail shaker and made a show of moving around the set, shaking the drink like he was a part of the rhythm section for a fast-tempo song. When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a highball glass from seemingly nowhere and placed it over Sean’s head, in front of him. Sean gazed up in awe as Sam let the stream of margarita flow from the shaker down into his glass.

“Rub some lime and salt around the rim and then give it a sip,” Sam coached Sean. “And you better tell me that you just had the best goddamn margarita of your life.”

Sean followed Sam’s commands and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a cautious sip. He smacked his lips a few times, let out a small choke, and failed to hide a grimace.

“It’s great, right?” Sam asked over his shoulder while he fixed himself his own drink.

“It’s, something?” Sean failed to find the right words. Sam didn’t seem to notice how much pain he was putting Sean through since he happily took a gulp from his own cup and then settled back in his seat. “This is fun, I’m having fun,” Sam decided. Sean squirmed around in his seat.

7. Dreams of Calypso - Angry Goat Pepper Co - 101,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Oh, this sauce is gonna go well with my drink,” Sam called out in glee as he observed the next bottle. “Tropical fruit and a fucking hot pepper? Now we’re talking!”

“Is your stomach made of metal or something?” Sean asked after quickly passing his barely touched margarita off to a crew member to dump down the sink.

“It’s all about your state of mind,” Sam explained. “If you tell yourself you’re going to feel pain, you’re going to feel pain. But if you tell yourself that you’ve had worse, you’re going to be fine. The brain is a powerful organ, it can make or break you.”

“Let’s see that philosophy in action,” Sean encouraged Sam as he motioned down to the wing. Sam grabbed it with a look of determination and tore into it.

“Not so bad,” Sam announced as he chewed. “You can hardly even notice the kick.”

“Right,” Sean stared at Sam in awe. “So, you’ve rubbed a lot of elbows with some pretty big names in the music industry since you first started off, namely Elton John and Metallica. Are there any groups or musicians that you would want to either collaborate or tour with?”

Sam started to think, but quickly got distracted by the flow of mucus that was starting to pool out of his nostrils. He tried to be covert about it, since he desperately didn’t want Sean to think he couldn’t handle spicy foods, so he quickly rubbed his nose. All that did was spread the snot across his face.

“Well,” Sam grunted out, trying to act cool, “If John Denver was still alive, I’d have to say him.”

To Sam’s dismay, even more snot was coming out of his nose, to the point where it was dripping down onto his shirt. Sam attempted to ignore it; maybe it was something the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up.

Across the table, Sean gaped at the boogers flooding out of Sam’s nostrils like a waterfall. While Sam blabbed on and on about all of the jazz and blues musicians that he admired and wanted to tour with, all Sean could do was study his nose in wonder, guessing when the flow would finally stop.

It was a relief that one of the crew members couldn’t take it anymore, since she passed a napkin off to Sam and, under her breath, begged him to wipe his schnoz. In grim defeat Sam let out a loud honk as he snorted into the tissue, and then wiped at his face, clearing the mucus away.

“The short answer is John Denver, George Gershwin, or Howlin Wolf if they were still alive. Taj Mahal would be exciting though too.”

“I think you need another wing,” Sean was ready to test Sam’s limits. Although Sam’s confidence was visibly wavering, he nodded his head.

“Bring it.”

8. Evolution Hot Sauce - Da Bomb - 135,000 Scoville Heat Units

“Still doing good?” Sean checked in with Sam. He liked to give his guests the opportunity to tap out before they shit themselves.

“I’m fantastic,” Sam replied with certainty, his cockiness returning.

“This one usually slows people down.”

“We’ll see about that,” Sam nodded down at the wing. In comparison to his previous large bites, Sam took a more inquisitive chew and was quick to gulp it down. Suddenly Sam’s eyebrows raised and his cheeks started to flush. He let out a short gasp and popped the top few buttons of his shirt. Sean watched him in glee, relieved that his strange guest was finally starting to be torn down by the scorching heat.

“This is a walk in the park,” Sam gasped out, his eyes welling with tears. He downed the rest of his margarita, blew his nose into his hands, and then downed the remainder of his second bottle of Corona. As Sam heaved out gasps of air, Sean cheerfully returned to his questions.

“You caused quite a stir amongst your fans with your impromptu visit to New York. What inspired the trip, and what touristy places are you planning on taking your bandmates when you’re back in September to play at Madison Square Garden?”

“What spices did they use in this thing?” Sam heaved between gags, “stuff out of Satan’s asshole?”

“Scorpion peppers,” Sean explained. “They’re pretty hot.”

“No kidding,” Sam coughed. Even though he was fighting for his life, his hands trembling at the overwhelming nature of the spice, he considered Sean’s question. “I wanted to go to New York,” he answered between coughs. After grabbing another bottle of Corona and chugging it, Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and continued. “Plane tickets were cheap, our management thought it might be a funny gimmick for me to announce our world tour in an unconventional way that was sure to get people talking. Um, Danny wants to go to the Central Park Zoo, I think Jake would enjoy the Hard Rock Cafe. Josh probably wants to go to Rockefeller Plaza.”

“All great spots,” Sean agreed.

“Shit, I feel so alive,” Sam groaned outwards.

“Are you okay?” Sean raised an eyebrow.

“This is great, I have health insurance, it’s all good,” Sam rambled, starting to sound incoherent. He brought the Corona back to his lips and tilted it back, accidentally splashing half the bottle down the front of his button up shirt. “Aw man,” Sam pouted down at his mess. Within seconds, a new napkin was in his hands, which he used to dab at his wet spots. “I haven’t stepped in any human shit yet on the subways,” Sam shared while he continued to clean himself, even though Sean hadn’t asked.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen human shit on the subway?” Sean replied.

“You’re not looking hard enough,” Sam answered back.

“Are you feeling ready to move on to the next wing?” Sean changed the topic.

“I’m feeling like I could get another wing in my mouth, Sean,” Sam said.

9. Taco Vibes Only - Butterfly Bakery of Vermont - 638,000 Scoville Heat Units

“We’re two away from the end,” Sean congratulated Sam.

“Nearly to the finish line,” Sam nodded before flushing out his nose into a tissue again. “I promise you, the nose blowing is a new one,” Sam continued. “This has literally never happened to me before, so I’m really curious what the hell you’re feeding me.”

“Hot Wings,” Sean stated flatly. Sam squinted back at Sean, not buying what he was saying. It wasn’t often that Sam got knocked off his high horse.

“This sauce uses a simplistic recipe so the peppers can really shine through,” Sean recited. “It features just lime juice-”

“Like the margaritas,” Sam cut in.

“Right,” Sean nodded. “And cumin and coriander to enhance the natural tangy and earthy notes.”

“If I can taste anything other than fucking hot on this wing, I’m gonna impress myself,” Sam said.

“It’s mostly so the viewers know what you’re dealing with,” Sean explained.

“Well,” Sam looked across to Sean, and then into the camera. “Here goes nothing.” Sam did the sign of the cross for good luck and then bit into the wing.

“Ho,” he almost immediately rasped, staring off into nothingness. “Hooooooooo hoooooooooo.”

Sean chuckled as Sam started to breathe like he was giving birth. The tears were back in his eyes, and they were pouring down his cheeks so they splotched on the table cloth and Sam’s pants. “Agh,” Sam was making incoherent noises, and then he suddenly stopped fidgeting and sat upright, staring directly above Sean.

“Oh shit,” Sam murmured, and then clawed at his tongue for a brief second.

“What?” Sean asked, whirling around on his stool to try and catch a glimpse of what Sam was staring at, his mouth wide open. “What is it?”

“God,” Sam whispered. “I see God. And he looks like a hot wing.”

Sean stared at Sam.

“Hello God,” Sam whispered.

“I don’t think he’s okay,” Sean turned to the producer. “Maybe we should stop here.”

“What’s that, God?” Sam asked louder. “Eat another wing? Sure thing, boss.”

“Maybe don’t do that,” Sean tried to put a hand up to Sam, but it was already too late. Looking like he was lost in another dimension, Sam grabbed the bottle of hot sauce and dumped it into his bottle of Corona and started to slurp it down.

“Oh Jesus,” Sean frowned.

“My mouth feels disconnected from my body,” Sam hummed. He dropped the beer bottle back onto the table and then threw himself back so he nearly toppled over on his stool. By some miracle he was able to push himself back upright, and then grabbed another napkin to wipe his sauced up hands. He looked back up at the space above Sean’s head and gasped. “There’s two gods now,” Sam breathed out. “It’s so beautiful.”

Sean was paralyzed in place, gawking at Sam, who had tears rolling down his cheeks again.

“So beautiful,” Sam exhaled. He grabbed the napkin from the table and lifted it up to wipe his eyes.

“Oh wait, no,” Sean tried to stop him, but it was too late.

Sam was now the one frozen, his eyes wide with fear and shock as he realized his mistake.

“SHIT!” he snapped out of it, hollering in pain as he threw his hands up to cover his eyes that now had hot sauce in them. “MOTHER FUCKER!”

The producer nodded for Sean to continue going and, as disturbed as he looked, he cleared his throat and talked over Sam’s calls of immense pain.

“In your song, ‘My Way Soon,’ your brother sings, ‘I’ve seen many places, there are so many places.’ For a 24 year old, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot: from the sketchiest dive bars to playing in front of thousands in packed stadiums, which places do you feel were the most monumental in your musical and personal journeys?”

Sam hadn’t heard a single word that came out of Sean’s mouth because he was too busy dumping his glass of milk onto his eyes while begging for forgiveness from the hot wing gods.

“Give me peace, oh mighty lord!” Sam cried tears of milk.

“He’s not finishing this,” Sean decided with a sense of finality. He thought that Bobby Lee had gone through the worst experience on his show, but the kid from Michigan had experienced the most devastating fall from grace he had ever seen.

Sam’s eyes were bright red, his clothes were beyond destroyed from all the milk, booze, and sauce he had spilled on himself, and his hair was plastered to his face from the sweat. He looked as though he had been to the farthest edge of hell and had to crawl back. Steam practically seemed to be pouring off him as he shakily stood from the stool and then plopped down on the ground so he could lean forward into a fetal position, his head up in his knees.

“I fucking hate hot wings,” Sam groaned from the floor.

10. The Last Dab: Apollo - Hot Ones Hot Sauce - So fucking hot the Scoville Heat Units don’t exist

“Let me sub in,” Danny said, running from behind the camera to the table, extending a hand for Sean to shake in confusion. “I’m Daniel Wagner, drummer for Greta Van Fleet,” Danny introduced himself to the camera. “My buddy, Sam, was so close to making it. He told me beforehand that if he couldn’t do it, I would have to finish it out for him.”

“That’s a first on this show,” Sean seemed to be growing on the idea.

Danny squatted down to Sam’s side and patted his arm.

“I’ll close this out for you, Sam,” he promised his best friend. Sam opened his

bloodshot eyes for a second to look up at Danny and then squeezed them shut again and let out another deep, low moan. “He’ll be okay,” Danny assured the crew. “He’s been through much worse. He could probably use some eye drops though.”

Danny gave Sam one more pat for a little extra reassurance, and then dragged him by the feet to the edge of the soundstage so he was out of the way.

“Glaugh,” was all Sam could say.

Danny returned back to Sam’s toppled stool and set it back on its legs so he could perch on it.

“Last wing, right?” he checked in with Sean.

“You got it,” Sean nodded. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna handle it like Sam did on that last round. That was hard to watch.”

“Trust me, I’m the sane one in the group,” Danny assured him. “Do you have a question that I can answer while I eat?”

“Well, uh,” Sean was thrown off-guard. “It’s really more of a question for Sam.”

“Try me,” Danny said as he added a dollop of hot sauce to his wing.

“Your, or, Sam’s dog, Rosie, seems like a really important part of his life, appearing in a lot of the band’s instagram photos and tiktoks. If you knew she could understand you, what would you tell her?”

“That is a better question for Sam,” Danny agreed, his mouth already full of the wing. “This is delicious, by the way.”

Sean gaped at Danny. The highest level wing hardly had an impact on him. He looked as if he had just bitten down on some celery.

“I would tell Rosie,” Sam gargled from the side of the stage, “that her dad is a big old wuss for tapping out early on Hot Ones!”

“You got close, Sam,” Danny turned around to tell his friend. “You got really damn close. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“I’m a failure,” Sam sniffed.

“The wings did kick your ass, bud,” Danny agreed.

“We usually give guests the last part of the show to plug anything they might be working on right now,” Sean interjected. “There’s a camera there, there, and there that you can look into.”

“Oh, sweet,” Danny perked up and set his finished wing gently down on its plate. “Okay, well, our single, ‘Meeting the Master’ is out now on all streaming sites, our album Starcatcher will be released on July 21st, mark your calendars, and we’re going on tour at the end of July. We’ve got a lot of exciting stuff for you down the road, I can’t wait to put it out into the world. Wanna add anything, Sam?”

“Can I have some more milk?” Sam whimpered off to the side.

“Of course, Sam,” Danny promised him. “Anything to add about any upcoming projects?”

“Upcoming projects?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Sam.”

“I’m gonna pump my stomach,” Sam shared.

#great van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #starcatcher #hot ones #sean evans #sam got so close #but god was that a rough ending for him

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