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kinglazrus · 4 years ago

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Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

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Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

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#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #danny/dash #deepwounds

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quickspinner · 3 years ago

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Neighborly

I had a bad case of writers block and rabbit brain trying to work on my wips yesterday, so I went and dug through my prompt lists, sat down with the sprint timer, and scrawled out this little bit of nonsense. I'm not sure about the final result but it broke the block, and I figured I might as well share it, so I hope you enjoy!

AO3

Rating: T

Marinette's been crushing on her cute neighbor for weeks, but she's never gotten the courage to speak more than a few flustered words to him. Now it might be too late--he's at her door begging for the use of her shower to get ready for his big date.

Marinette stared at the man standing at her door.

“I’m sorry?” she said faintly, and the man smiled at her. That didn’t help the situation at all, as it made her knees wobbly.

“Weird ask, I know,” he said, ruffling a hand through his blue-tinted hair. “It’s just that I’m supposed to have a date tonight and my shower’s been out for two days. Maintenance has quit answering my calls and I’m getting desperate. I really like this girl and I don’t want to give the wrong impression.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, voice still weak, and then she plastered a plastic smile on her face. “O-of course you can! What are neighbors for, right? Um—”

“Luka,” he supplied, still smiling. Marinette already knew that, of course. She knew an embarrassing amount of information about this man, considering they had only spoken in passing. The first time, he’d caught her when her shoe had broken in the hallway, and she’d pitched straight into him somehow managing to stop her fall and haul her back upright against him with only one strong arm. He hadn’t even lost the groceries he’d been carrying in the other. He’d smiled at her and told her to be careful with that soft velvet voice and she’d looked up into blue eyes that seemed far too gentle for his handsome, angular face and—

Marinette suddenly realized it was her turn to talk and that she was taking too long. “Um M-Marinette, I’m. I’m Marinette,” she stammered.

“Nice to finally officially meet you Marinette,” Luka said easily, as if she wasn’t the most awkward person he’d ever spoken to, as if she hadn’t run away from him after a few awkward words every time they’d bumped into each other—literally or otherwise. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll pop back over and grab my things, and be back in a few minutes?”

“Oh, um. Y-yeah, yeah, of course,” she babbled, and he turned away, raising a hand slightly.

“Great, I’ll be back in a few then.”

Marinette shut the door numbly, and then walked over to her couch and buried her face in a pillow. She screamed, kicking her feet, and then tossed the pillow away, moaning as she dragged her hands down her face.

It wasn’t enough that the super hot musician with gorgeous shoulders and dreamy eyes was coming over to use her shower. He had to need her shower because he had a date . Marinette wanted to be his date! She’d been half-stalking him trying to work up the courage—well. Not really stalking him, just...observing. She just noticed things, that was all, like how he had a smile and a question for everybody, the way he fed the stray cats that lived behind the building, and always held open doors no matter who was behind him, and how hard his chest was beneath the baggy layers he wore, and—oh, that chest was going to be in her bathroom and—her bathroom!

Marinette’s eyes flew wide and she nearly tripped over her own feet, flinging herself off the couch, running to the bathroom to grab anything too girly or potentially embarrassing and shove it under the sink. Fortunately her bathroom wasn’t dirty (she wasn’t an animal after all), just cluttered, and she frantically grabbed the underthings she’d draped over the shower rod to dry and ran them to her room, shoving them frantically under her pillow before going back to make absolutely sure she hadn’t missed any or left anything embarrassing. She put a clean towel on the rack and threw the dirty one over her arm and triple-checked to make sure there was no hair in the shower drain. She heard the knock on the door and jerked up, banging her head on the faucet of the tub. She yelped, dizzy with the pain for a moment.

“Marinette?” Luka called, as she tried to extract herself from the bathtub with one hand clutched to her scalp. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her; that hurt.

“Are you all right?” Luka asked, and Marinette whirled around wide-eyed to find him standing in the bathroom doorway. “I heard you yell and I let myself in, I hope that’s okay. Did you hurt yourself? Are you bleeding?” He dropped the backpack slung over his shoulder onto the floor and came over to her, gently tugging her hand away from her head.

“I don’t think so,” Marinette gritted. “I was just...trying to clean up a bit, and…” She gestured at the faucet and Luka winced in sympathy.

“Ouch,” he muttered as he parted her hair with gentle fingers. He was so nice, Marinette mourned. Although...he did smell like he needed that shower. She held her breath and tried not to make a face. “It looks okay,” he said, stepping back away from her. “You didn’t have to clean for me.”

Marinette gave an embarrassed shrug. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked dryly, and blushed when Luka laughed.

“Probably,” he conceded with a grin. “Thanks. I really didn’t mean to put you to inconvenience.”

“It’s no big deal,” Marinette said, finally mustering a smile. “Besides, how could I leave you in the lurch? Big date and all. I don’t need any more bad karma on my dating life.”

Luka’s eyebrows rose, and Marinette flushed, cursing her stupid mouth that never shut up when it should. “So I’ll, um—” she gestured behind Luka to the door, “get out of here, so you can. You know.”

“Oh, sorry.” Luka moved out of her way, pressing himself against the sink, and Marinette squeezed past him and out of the door. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“This girl must be something special,” Marinette smiled as she backed into the small hallway. “For you to go to all this trouble instead of rescheduling.”

“She is,” Luka grinned. “She’s amazing. I think so, anyway. I don’t know her very well yet, but she’s awfully sweet and super cute.” The grin on his face turned a little goofy. “I’ve been smitten since I met her, honestly.”

“Oh,” Marinette kept her smile in place, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her stomach. “Oh, that’s really sweet. Um, well I don’t want to make you late, so I’ll just...music! I’ll go turn on some music.” That way she wouldn’t hear the incredibly cute soon-to-be-naked boy in her bathroom. “Um, take your time, let me know if you need anything.”

Luka’s grin widened a little. “Thanks Marinette.” He shut the door, and Marinette marched herself back to the living room to scream into another pillow.

After a few deep breaths and a lot of nervous fumbling, she got her music player running. Jagged Stone should be enough, right? Loud enough to cover—she heard the curtain rings slide across the rod. The shower started running and Luka’s deep sigh of relief. Poor guy , she thought, he must have been miserable . She put the music player on and sat for a moment, chewing her thumbnail nervously.

After a few minutes she sat up straighter, listening. Was that—over the sound of the running water and Jagged Stone wailing through her sound system, she heard another voice. Luka was...singing? He was singing along with the song that was playing. Marinette giggled, and moved to the other end of the couch, listening. He had a nice voice, she thought wistfully. She’d seen him with a guitar on his back in the halls. She wondered if some of the music she occasionally heard through his door in the hall was music he made, rather than the radio as she’d assumed.

She flopped on the arm of the couch and groaned. He was so cool, and she was such a disaster. She would have never been brave enough to ask to use a stranger’s shower, no matter how miserable and disgusting she was.

Poor guy , she thought again. He must have been really desperate.

She sat up, and picked up her phone, looking at it in her hands. Maybe she could...well, it might be stupid but it couldn’t hurt to just ask, right?

Marinette dialed the building maintenance number. “Hi Pierre,” she chirped brightly when the grumpy old technician picked up the phone. “It’s Marinette in 34 B? How are you doing?

“Miss Marinette!” The gruff tone softened. “I’m doing well, doing well. Tickets lined up like crazy, though. Everything seems to be breaking at once these days.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Marinette said, putting on a tone of great sympathy. “Maybe I shouldn’t bother you then—”

“Now, now, none of that. What can I do for you?”

“It’s not actually me,” Marinette said, “It’s my neighbor across the hall, Luka? His shower’s been out for a while now and he came over tonight to see if he could use mine—”

“What?” barked old Pierre, and Marinette grinned to herself. “That punk with the piercings? You shouldn’t be letting him traipse through your apartment Miss Marinette. Guys like that always try to take advantage.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that,” Marinette said innocently. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything like that. I was calling to see when his shower might be fixed, but if you’re so busy, maybe I should just give him my spare key so he can—”

“No, no,” Pierre said quickly. “I’ve got his ticket right here, see, he was next on the list. His shower will be fixed tomorrow, so don’t be making any foolish offers Miss Marinette. You’re too nice for your own good, you know.”

“Oh, it never hurts to be nice, Pierre,” Marinette giggled. “I’m planning on making some chocolate chip scones tomorrow to take to a friend, so if you do come to fix Luka’s shower, stop on by, I’ll save a few of them for you.”

“Well, I’ll stop by if I have time,” Pierre said gruffly. “Not that sweets are much to a man my age, but if you made them…”

“Great, I hope I’ll see you!” Marinette giggled. “Thanks so much Pierre, you’re an angel.” She hung up, grinning to herself.

“I can’t believe it. You’re magic.”

Marinette jumped half out of her skin and whirled around. Luka grinned at her sheepishly, but she hardly noticed, because while he was wearing pants—a different, more fitted pair than what he’d had on when he arrived—his torso was bare, and her fluffy pink towel hung around his shoulders, catching only most of the drips falling from his blue hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, and I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just wanted to ask if you had a hair dryer I can borrow. I forgot to grab mine.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Marinette said, jumping up. “I’ll just...I’ll get it, if that’s okay.” She blushed, thinking of all the things she had shoved in the cabinet before he came.

“Sure.” Luka moved back out of her way, and she shimmied past him into the bathroom. She blinked a moment at the amount of paraphernalia spread on her counter. She’d never thought guys used that much product, but she shook herself and bent over to dig in the cabinet, trying to block it with her body so Luka couldn’t see inside. It took some effort to find the hair dryer, which had been shoved against the back of the cabinet in her frenzied tidying, but by some miracle she extracted it without dumping all of the piled up junk onto the floor. Sighing in relief, she straightened and turned. “Got it!”

Luka was looking at the ceiling. His darkly tanned skin was flushed from the hot shower and the line of his neck made her swallow. “Luka?” she repeated, trying not to squeak.

His dropped his gaze back to her, and she froze under the intensity in that look for a moment. Then he blinked and smiled, softening, and Marinette felt she could move again. She offered him the hair dryer and he took it. “Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for getting Pierre’s ass in gear. He hates me, so I figured it’d be a week at least before I could get him to come out.”

“Oh, that.” Marinette shrugged, and grinned mischievously. “I have a lot of experience dealing with grouchy old men.” She winked, and to her mild surprise, the color in Luka’s cheeks deepened. He cleared his throat.

“Well, thanks for making the effort, I really appreciate it.”

“Why does he hate you?” Marinette frowned, as Luka’s words caught up to her.

Luka nodded vaguely in the direction of the back of the building. “We got into it over me feeding the strays. He was nattering on about disease and just breeding more and blah, blah, blah.” Luka rolled his eyes. “If he’d actually listen for five minutes...anyway, I have a friend, the blond that was with me that one time, you remember? He runs a trap-and-release program for feral cats, gets them vaccinated and fixed and all that and then lets them back out into their home territory. The cats behind our building are probably as safe as your average indoor cat, in terms of disease.”

“Oh,” Marinette gasped, awed. “That’s really cool.”

Luka grinned. “He’s pretty passionate about it. He did all the real work, trapping and transport and all that. I just make sure they have a good meal. May I?” He gestured towards the sink, and Marinette jumped.

“Oh, of course, please. I’m sorry, I’m going to make you late with all this chattering—” Marinette babbled as she and Luka did a slightly awkward dance to let him in and her out of the bathroom. He smelled much better now, she noticed giddily as they had to squeeze together. She only barely managed not to squeal when he took her arm lightly to guide her around him.

“By the way,” he called once she was out, and she glanced back to see him unscrewing the lid on one of the sink jars. “Do you have any suggestions for good places to eat close by?” He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. “I’m always looking to try new things.”

“U-um—” Finding it hard to think while staring at his bare back, Marinette turned away and tapped a finger to her lips in thought. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything,” Luka replied, running fingers coated in some kind of gel through his hair. “I like all kinds of things.”

“What does she like?”

“I don’t know yet,” Luka admitted.

Marinette considered. “Well, my favorite is this Italian place about two blocks down, but Italian is chancy on a first date. Messy, you know. She might not be comfortable.” Marinette raised her voice as Luka turned on the hair dryer. “There’s an Indian place that’s a little farther away, and there’s a really cute little patisserie right next to it, that could be romantic. Oh, and there’s a park right there, if you feel like a nighttime stroll.” She frowned. “You didn’t already figure this stuff out?”

“I’m not really a planner,” Luka laughed, his deep voice carrying easily even over the noise of the dryer. “I had some ideas, but sometimes the universe throws you an Indian place and a cute patisserie, with a moonlight stroll in the bargain.” He winked at Marinette. “It pays to keep an open mind.”

Marinette started to smile, and then remembered she was helping him plan a date with someone else, and turned away again. “Okay, well, you’ll have to let me know how it goes,” she said quickly as she went down the hallway. Her eyes were stinging and she took a deep breath as she blinked. Stupid , she scolded herself. She didn’t even know him, because just like always she’d never found the guts to actually talk to him, besides a hello and good night! and one very rushed um, cat food was on sale and I noticed it was the brand you buy so...here! SEEYOULATERBYE! He was her neighbor and she hadn’t even asked his name before today, only seen it on the mail that had been misdelivered to her box instead of his. All she had was little stolen scraps, because she hadn’t been brave enough to ask for more.

Ugh she was such a loser, it was no wonder Luka had never even—well, he had said a word to her, actually. Words like Are you all right? and Can I help you with that? and Wow, thanks, that’s so cool of you . Because he was sweet and nice as well as good looking, and if she’d had any guts at all maybe she could have—

“Marinette?”

She whirled, and Luka was standing there, his bag at his feet, closing the last two buttons of a black dress shirt. “Are you all right?” he asked as he began rolling the sleeves up to bare his forearms. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“What? No, of course not.” Marinette clamped her teeth down on her tongue before she could blurt something like I have shirtless men in my home all the time . Luka was looking at her with a slightly furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should have gone back to my place to finish up, I wasn’t—I mean I didn’t mean to impose or anything.”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then gave him a genuine smile. “You didn’t. Really, Luka, I wasn’t bothered. I just, um. I got emotional about something for a moment there, but it wasn’t your fault.”

Luka nodded. “Something about bad dating karma?” he guessed, voice so gentle it made her ache.

“More or less.” Marinette tried to smile.

“Well,” Luka sighed, finishing the second sleeve. “Honestly I haven’t been too lucky in that department myself. I was hoping tonight would change that, but...maybe...maybe it isn’t the best time after all.”

“What?” Marinette cried, staring at him. “Why? Luka, you seemed like you liked this girl so much, and you’re all dressed up.” She stepped to him and adjusted the set of his collar without thinking. “You look so good, it’ll be great. She won’t be able to resist you. Believe me, I know it’s scary to put yourself out there, but won’t you regret it if you don’t?” I do .

Luka caught her wrists gently. “Yeah, I really think I would.” He grinned. “Now I just need to ask her.”

Marinette blinked up at him. “You didn’t ask her?” she asked, bewildered. “Isn’t it going to be kind of short notice?” She frowned. “You said you had a date tonight.”

Luka dipped his head in a kinda-sorta motion. “I said I was supposed to have a date tonight,” he chuckled. “And I would have—or at least I hope so—if I’d asked you out two days ago when I planned. But then I got home from work and of course I was sweaty and gross and then my shower wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t talk to you while I was disgusting. Not when you’re always so pretty and neat and put together.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed.

“And then Pierre didn’t show and he didn’t show and he didn’t show,” Luka rolled his eyes. “And if I didn’t ask you out today, I’d owe my buddy that runs the cat rescue my favorite signed Jagged Stone album. He’s been bugging me about asking you out for like a month.” He grinned. “Ever since you brought me the cat food? He could see how much I liked you and he decided then and there we were meant to be, and somehow I let him talk me into this stupid—bet or dare or whatever, that if I didn’t man up by today...well. I would’ve asked you anyway one way or another.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she was sure her face must be on fire.

“So, now that I’m presentable,” Luka grinned slowly. “Will you go out to dinner with me tonight? I heard about this really good Indian place. Maybe afterwards we could grab dessert and take a walk in the park? I’d really like to get to know you better.”

Marinette gasped, and then her lips pursed into a pout. Luka laughed. “You’re mean,” she told him, kicking his shin lightly.

Luka’s shoulders hunched a little, and he looked guilty. “I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry for teasing.” He blushed. “I guess I was nerving myself up a bit, telling you how much I liked you without you knowing, but I didn’t think about how it would come across. I didn’t mean to upset you. No pressure, okay?” He slid his hands from her wrists to her hands and lowered them between them. “If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. Just, like you said. I’d regret it if I didn’t try.”

“But—” Marinette let go of his hands as her own flew to her hair. “I’m not dressed for a date!”

Luka chuckled. “You look gorgeous to me. But I can wait if you want to change.”

Marinette reddened. “I—w-well, I mean...I mean I guess we could—” Luka laid a finger on her lips.

“Breathe,” he told her, clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

That didn’t help her efforts to calm down, but she did manage to breathe, despite the very distracting slide of his finger as it left her lips. “Fine,” she said finally. “But you better be prepared because I’m going all out for our second date.”

Luka’s grin went wide and bright and more than a little silly. “I can’t wait.”

ETA: Okay, yes, I know this was a bit mean for Marinette. I did actually really waffle about it while I was writing it and I almost scrapped it a couple times, but the whole point of the timer is to keep me on task and stop the second guessing and overthinking that was sabotaging me, so I ran with it. I did ultimately decide to keep it because really, they haven't had a chance to really talk or anything here, and so Luka doesn't really know that Marinette's into him. He's aware there's some attraction between them, but he doesn't know how hard she's crushing. So really, he's just a bit insecure himself and psyching himself up a bit for The Moment. So I justify it to myself anyway. As soon as he's able to actually take in her mood he's aware he's messed up. If you can't forgive him, that's okay. Mari will get him back later.

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #neighborly #i'll never not know you #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #pro lukamari

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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

Text

I Don't Count

Word Count: 1,479 Warnings: Drinking. Mentions of a car accident (briefly). Soft caretaker baby Will Miller. It's just fluffy. Author's Note: Fully formed this out of my need for a hug and comfort and decided I wanted to write it for the only blonde haired, blue eyed man I'd ever let get in these guts.

MASTERLIST

The Millers still had a landline. Of course they did. Benny’s big brother was very staunch about his boundaries. If he wasn’t going out after work, his cellphone went off as soon as he walked across the threshold. If you needed to reach him for any reason after that, you could call the house phone.

“But it better be a goddamn emergency,” he’d always say.

She bit her thumbnail as it rang, leg bouncing to a nonsensical rhythm. A drumming only she could hear. Once, twice. It was her last ditch effort to reach her best friend, to hear his voice telling her everything is okay. Three times and,

“Hello?”

Not Benny.

She contemplates hanging up, her voice stuck somewhere in her chest. This was most certainly not an emergency no matter what the bottle she’d been nursing had to say about it. But she can’t. Can’t speak. Not to Will, not about this.

Can’t let the phone fall from her ears. Can’t even breathe.

“Shane,” he sounds concerned, “are you okay?”

“I uh—“ the breath releases, “I was looking for Benny.”

A small laugh on the other end, “it’s Tuesday, Sunshine, he’s at the gym.”

Sunshine, his nickname for her. It started out as Sunshane but he got pissed at the autocorrect of his own brain, stopped fighting it after a while.

A sharp sound rings through, a whistle to get her attention.

“You didn’t answer my question,” it’s warm, “are you okay?”

She sniffs, “yeah, Billy—“

Another laugh, both disbelieving and amused, “you can’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

“Just…” another swig, “have Benny call me when he gets home, okay?”

“Are you drinking?” Not amused.

“I’m an adult, Miller, I drink.” It’s harsh.

“Yeah,” another disbelieving laugh, this time at your boldness, “but you sound like shit. Why are you drinking?”

Because I’m forcing my feelings for you onto others and I have the gall to be shocked when it blows up in my face.

“Look,” she’s pacing the kitchen, “just have Benny give me a call when he gets home. I’m really sorry t—“

“Did that fucking boyfriend do something?”

There it is, the sob she’d been swallowing.

“Give me half an hour,” he whispers down the line, “I’ll have my cell if you need anything, okay?” —————

The bottle’s gone when there’s a knock at the door.

She jumps but settles back against the couch, believing it must be coming from somewhere deep within the wine soaked sponge of her brain.

But there it is again, “it’s me, Sunshine,” coming from the other side.

She stands too quickly, blood rushing to her head as her right foot struggles to come back to life. He knocks again, nothing if not persistent.

“Don’t make me bust down this door, you know I can do it.”

She fumbles with the chain lock with wildly inebriated fingers, scratching desperately with her nails to get it through that little fucking hole. It springs free and she’s working at the deadbolt, much simpler, before throwing the door wide to the man on the other side.

“Would you really have busted down my door, Miller?” She slurs out, ever the lightweight.

He shrugs, “yeah but… I would’ve built you a new one so…”

“What's that?” She notices the bags for the first time, swinging idly at his side.

“I figured you were about halfway through the bottle earlier when you called, based on how the swish of liquid sounded on the pho—“

She rolls her eyes, “it's fucking creepy how you do that.”

“—so I brought cheeseburgers.”

She launches unsteadily toward him, wrapping her arms around his midsection.

“May I come in?”

His scent fills her senses, fresh laundry and a hint of Tom Ford as she nods against his broad chest.

Letting go, she stumbles back into the tiny apartment, the couch taking over the entire wall of the living room, and plops back down with her feet tucked under her as she makes grabby hands for the bag in Will’s hand.

He catches her out of his peripheral while he refastens the lock on the door, “can you be patient?”

“Absolutely not,” she whines out, “I'm starving.”

He toes his shoes off at the door and pads to the front of the couch, in front of her, and kneels down. He reaches into the bag and hands her a burger, “I got you two singles because I know you feel self conscious when you try to eat a double. Even when you’re alone.”

“But I’m not alone,” she mumbles through a bite, wrapper torn in half as soon as it touched her hands.

“I don’t count, I’m just Will.”

She almost chokes at that, because he does count.

“I'm really not trying to deep throat a fucking Big Mac in front of my best friend’s older brother.”

“Oh,” he stands and kisses the top of her head, “Is that all I am?”

Absolutely not.

She watches him walk into the kitchen, the clinking of glass and the sound of the tap rushing back out to meet her.

Thoughts swim in her drunk mind, the events of the day—the phone call, the fight, the follow up text messages. Colin’s raised voice still ringing through her ears as he accused her, “I don’t know if it’s Will or Ben but you’re fucking one of them and I’m done!”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He’s soft, pulling the wrapper from her hands and pushing a glass of water in place of it.

“Um, ya know,” she swallows hard around the lump building in her throat again, “just what typically happens with men in my life.”

He looks defeated, apologetic. Colin’s not the first to accuse her of being with a Miller. It’s been a theme of the last three—Ryan, John, Adam—and this makes four. Four men that William Miller wishes he could add to his confirmed kills list.

That’s not what she wants to hear right now though, no matter how safe his words of protection always make her feel. Because it doesn’t matter.

“I'm sorry,” his heavy hand falls on the bare skin of her calf, sending a bolt of electricity through her body.

She was relieved.

Colin wasn’t right but he wasn’t far off from the truth she’s been hiding.

She’s in love with William Miller.

“Hey, Sunshine” his rough thumb across the smooth skin guides her back, “where are you?”

The alcohol has her still, a looseness in the hurt of her heart that makes up her mind before she fully realizes the words are already coming out of her mouth.

“He’s not wrong, Billy. None of them have really been wrong.”

He laughs, fingers stilled on her leg and she is aching for the movement to return as his stare seeps through her pores.

“You and Benny got something you need to tell me?”

Her breath is shaky.

She trails her fingers along his wrist before placing her palm on the back of his. Now or never.

“I think it’s more like you and I have something to tell Benny.”

He pulls away, blue eyes piercing through her, “you're drunk, Shane.”

“Just enough to not give a shit anymore,” she whispers, lifting herself up to her knees and pressing closer to him, “I know how we look at each other, Will.”

“Benny will kill us.”

She giggles, “I’ve been to his fights, my money’s on you.”

His heart swells as his laughter jumps up to meet hers. This is the first time they’ve been alone together, properly alone, since he realized his love ran deeper than that of just a friend.

When he realized on the last mission that he just really missed the smell of her hair when she gives him a hug. Or the way she laughs the hardest out of everybody whenever he tells a dumb joke.

He came home and, to stop himself from being reckless, made sure that he was only ever around when Benny was. He didn’t want to fuck up Benny’s friendship, that was something his little brother could excel at on his own.

But now, with her full lips inches from his, he decides.

It’s a decision he made less than an hour ago when her name popped up on the caller ID—she’d only called the house phone one other time, a car accident, and that same worry seeped beneath his skin again.

Her fingers run through the soft hair on the side of his head, his lips heavy against hers as he pulls her in and pushes her down.

He breaks away, “Are you sure?”

A question that dies with a crash as she tugs him back to her and he melts against her warmth when—

Her phone vibrates.

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll…

Benny.

#charlie hunnam #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #william 'ironhead' miller #william miller #will miller #ofc #original female character #oc #original character #fanfic #fanfiction

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lovemeleo · 4 years ago

Note

hii! could you write some o'knutzy fluff?

hey anon, hope you’re doing well and hope you enjoy this little bit of o’knutzy fluff! o’knutzy of course belongs to @lumosinlove.

***

Moving to a completely new part of the country is extremely difficult. Not only are you miles and miles from where you called home for so long, but you’re away from your friends and family too. That was so difficult for Leo. Being in a different climate was extremely hard as well. Gryffindor was extremely different from New Orleans, where the lowest they got during winter was the 40s.

One of the biggest struggles Leo had was the lack of plants. This probably sounded weird, coming from a hockey player but ever since he was little, Leo loved growing things. He loved getting to put a little seed in the ground, watch it grow, and take care of it. It was even better when he got to use what he grew afterward. Leo loved growing different types of peppers, tomatoes, but he loved just growing regular plants as well. Whenever he wasn’t working, in school, or practicing, he could be found in the garden, fingers deep in the fresh dirt.

Sadly when he moved to Gryffindor and in with Finn, he had to give up his garden. They didn’t have a yard, and even if they did, it would be hard to have anything outside with the rapidly changing weather. His mom had been taking care of his garden back home, sending pictures but it wasn’t the same.

After showing his boys his garden when they visited his home, the two began formulating a secret plan. It was obvious their boyfriend missed his garden, missed the plants. It started with lots of research and planning. Finn and Logan spent so much time on gardening websites, asking experts questions, months of looking through plants that would be able to live in their area.

“We need to make sure they’re the plants that can live within Gryffindor,” Finn murmured, biting at his thumbnail as they scrolled through a local greenery’s website.

Logan’s hand came up, pulling the older boy’s hand from his mouth as he looked over the plants, “Stop biting, you’re gonna bleed. And we can do some pepper plants. Tomatoes. Maybe some garlic, that’d be cool.”

Nodding, Finn added the plants to their cart, “The planter we bought has two levels. So we could do one level with like food plants and one with just regular plants? We’ve got that Fiddle Leaf Fig or whatever, and a couple of others. I think that’ll be good.”

“With the food ones, I think we should just buy the seeds and leave spots open. Leo might want to plant them himself.” Logan said, adding some seed packets to their cart before they paid.

Leo had left to go home that morning for his mom’s birthday, planning to be back Sunday morning. It was now Friday afternoon and the two boys planned to have Leo’s garden ready when he got home.

Their order wasn’t ready until Saturday, so as soon as the greenery opened the next day, the boys went and picked it all up. After getting all the plants as well as the needed supplies to their apartment, Logan and Finn got to work. They had purchased an indoor garden that stacked with two shelves that were spread enough to let the bottom shelf still grow tall.

It took them almost all day to get it all set up. For the food shelf, they filled it with dirt but left the seed packets to the side. The other shelf was filled with different plants that had purified the air as well as some that just looked nice. The boys set up next to their balcony window so it could get sunlight.

Finn let out a sigh of relief as they looked over their finished product, “Well, fuck that was a lot. Don’t know how Leo used to do that every day, especially in the heat. Probably all tan… and sweaty.” His face took on a bit of a dreamy look before Logan swatted at him.

“Now is not the time for that, Harz. We still gotta clean up before gets home tomorrow.”

A whine was Finn’s only reply as they started to clean, getting the extra dirt off the floor and putting away the additional supplies in their storage closet.

After a quick shower, both boys stumbled to their bedroom, crawling into bed.

“It’s weird sleeping in here when one of us is missing,” Logan mumbled, his face already pressed into Leo’s pillow. Finn nodded into his back, his head resting against the soft skin of Logan’s shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“He’ll be back tomorrow. Then we can show him the surprise,” Finn said softly, pressing a kiss to his neck as he pulled Logan closer. “Sleep now.”

The boys were up early the next morning, getting the house was ready. They had to be at the airport to pick Leo up at 10 am and wanted to make sure everything was in order when he got home.

“I’m gonna throw the laundry in the dryer and then we can head to the airport,” Logan yelled to Finn who was picking up the kitchen. And by picking up, he was mostly tossing out empty to-go containers. Not much cooking got done when Leo was gone.

As soon as the last container was tossed, Finn was pulling on his jacket, “Alright, let’s go. Don’t want our sunshine out in the cold for too long.” Logan was following not long after, grabbing his keys and wallet before they were out the door.

Luckily for them, traffic wasn’t bad and they made it just in time; Leo walked out the airport doors as they pulled up.

“It’s unfair how fucking tan he is.” Finn huffed, a pout on his face but anyone could tell he loved how tan Leo got, especially when he went home.

A grin lit up Leo’s face as soon as he saw them, quickly walking to the car and climbing in the backseat, “Hello, mes amours. Missed you.” He said, quickly leaning forward to press a kiss to each of their cheeks as Logan headed home.

“We missed you more, mon soleil. How was your mom’s birthday?” Logan asked, unable to stop himself from glancing back at their boyfriend through the rearview mirror. Fuck, he really did look good.

Leo smiled, resting his head back on the headrest, “Good, very good. She sends her love to the both of you.”

“But more to me, right? I’m her favorite, non?” Logan said with a grin, glancing at the redhead next to him.

Finn shoved him, almost causing Logan to swerve, “That was before she met you. Now she knows what a shit you are.”

The car was filled with the sounds of their scuffle as Logan tried to fight Finn back while also keeping their car on the road. Leo couldn’t help the fond smile that spread on his face as he watched the two of them. Yeah, he had missed this.

When they got home, Logan and Finn turned to look at him as they got to their front door. Leo raised an eyebrow as he looked between the two of them, “What are y’all looking at it? Sorta creepy just staring at me like that…”

“We have a surprise for you,” Finn said, unable to stop the happy bounce as Logan opened the door. And there it was. His new little garden right in front of their big balcony window.

“W-what?” Leo said, eyes wide as he took in the new addition to their apartment.

Logan bit his lip nervously, “So we saw how much you loved your garden in New Orleans, and we wanted you to have one here…”

“So we decided to make your own little garden. The ones that are already planted are just like regular plants? Some of them purify the air, but others we just got cause we thought they looked pretty.” Finn continued, his anxious excitement causing him to ramble a bit. “We left the other shelf empty because we figured you might want to plant the food ones yourself, but we got a bunch of seeds!”

Leo walked forward, his fingers running gently over the edge of the garden shelves, “I can’t believe you guys did this for me...” He felt his vision blur a bit as he looked up at his boys, wiping at the tears that were forming as his face split into a massive grin. “You guys are too good to me.”

Quickly pulling the other two for a group hug, Finn held the two of them close, “Well, Nutter Butter, you deserve all of the good things.”

All of the planning, research, and digging in the dirt was all so worth it to see that blinding smile on Leo’s face. They’d do it million times, again and again, to keep it there.

#o’knutzy #leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o’hara #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #fluff #fic writing #fic writer #soft hockey boys #anon ask #anon prompt

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years ago

Text

Riptide

A love story told from two perspectives. One after it is has ended, and the other just as it begins.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Words: 3.8k

Rating: Mature. Major Character Death.

You can either read over on a03, or below the cut.

I would love to know what you think.

“I have loved with the breadth of the ocean, and lost with the grief of rainfall.” - Angie Weiland-Crosby ___________________

October 2025

His wake is in the house they shared together. People she both recognised and didn’t mill through their home, giving her and Jack their condolences as they passed by.

Emily’s grief felt oppressive, like she was drowning in it. Every breath she heaved in through her lungs burned in her chest. Hollowing out the place where his love used to live.

She had been through a lot in her life. Her childhood was snatched away from her at 15 in a small clinic in Rome. Ian Doyle had torn through her life twice, leaving disaster behind him both times. The ruins of her life his personal victory, even in his death.

But this, losing Aaron, was by far the worst thing she had experienced. Since the moment she was told he was dead she had struggled to comprehend it, only really believing it when she was taken to see his body. Emily felt numb. She knew she was pushing everyone away but she couldn’t help it. The solitude of her grief helped her just about cope enough to get up in the morning.

“Emily?”

She turns to see JJ standing at the door of Aaron’s home office, having clearly sought her out. Emily would place money on the fact the team was taking it in turns to check on her. Their own grief for Aaron outweighed by concern for her.

“I’m hiding from my mother.” Emily explains from where she is sitting on the couch. “She has no tact and I can’t cope with her today of all days.”

JJ sits next to her and places her hand on Emily’s. She runs a thumb over her knuckles. A gesture Emily thinks is supposed to be comforting, but she can barely feel it. The numbness she has felt the last couple of weeks ever present. Like she was watching life from behind glass, all of her senses muted and warped by grief.

“Em-”

“Don’t ask me if I’m ok. Or say anything kind.” She pulls her hand from under JJ’s and stands, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Trying desperately to hold herself together, but feeling like she could fall apart any minute. “I don’t think I can take it.”

JJ stands too but keeps a good distance from her friend, respecting the boundaries Emily had put firmly in place the morning after everything changed. “He wouldn’t want this for you, he’d be worried.”

Emily scoffs, but tears fall onto her cheeks anyway. She furiously wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I wish people would stop saying that.”

JJ’s face crumbles, barely restrained emotion on her own face. “He loved you Emily. You were going to-”

“JJ. I really don’t need you to explain my relationship to me.” Emily says harshly, bitter words falling past her lips to stop her from breaking down. She felt like she hadn’t stopped crying in days. “I have to go check on Jack.”

“Em-”

“He lost his father. The only parent he had left. He’s what’s important right now, everything else can wait.” She turns to leave, hand hovering over the door handle to lead her out of his office and she hesitates to turn back around to look at her friend. “I love Aaron, JJ.” The use of the present tense wasn’t lost on either of them. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And he’s gone. I’m never going to get him back and you need to let me deal with that in my way. Okay?”

She leaves the office before JJ can respond. She walks through the hallway of the house she and Aaron had bought together, a photo on the wall making her stop in her tracks. Penelope had taken it on a night out with the team not long after Emily and Aaron first got together. She had just been injured on a case, her shoulder still sore from where she’d been stabbed. Aaron was still fussing, not drinking so he could take her home whenever she was done. He had pulled her onto his lap, his broad chest protecting her shoulder from being jostled by anyone. Occasional whispers in her ear asking how she was slowly driving her crazy. Penelope snapped the photo as she turned her head to admonish him, a loving look on her face.

The squeal that came out of her friend after she took it still echoed around Emily’s head 4 years later. Penelope had passed her phone over, showing them the photo of them looking at each other like no one else existed.

She’s always loved that photo. She had sent it to her own phone immediately and had it printed. Now it made her heart clench in her chest, wishing she could see him again. Their home now felt like a museum of memories, their life together a snapshot in time that would never have been enough, even if they had grown old together. In the two weeks since he had died every part of her wanted to run, to get out and leave this all behind.

She stays despite everything in her screaming to leave. To get out of the house they shared, the city that reminded her of him at every turn. She wants to be somewhere he never had been, in the futile hope that she would one day be able to breathe without it being painful, without her lungs constricting like she was underwater.

She stays. She knows from experience that running away won’t fix anything, that she would just take memories of him anywhere she went. Carried on her skin like tattoos of his affection, etched permanently onto her. And in her worst moments, when having been loved by him felt more like a curse than the blessing it was when he was alive, she wishes she could hate him for it.

Jack is standing with Jessica in the living room. Emily is reminded of watching Aaron and Jack together at Haley’s funeral so many years ago. It was hard to believe that the little boy was now the young man in front of her, back in town from college and clearly wanting to be anywhere else.

He looks so much like Aaron that it steals her breath away.

“Jack.” She says gently as she approaches, a tight smile on her face. Both Jack and Jessica turn to look at her. “I’d ask how you are doing but that’s a stupid question.”

The 20 year old nods at her. “It’s weird. Knowing he’s gone forever.” Jack replies, clearing his throat. “It feels final now.”

Emily agrees, her fingers digging into the skin around her thumbnails. “Where are you staying tonight? You can stay here if you want. Your room is still set up.”

“I’m going to stay with Aunt Jessie.” He says tilting his head towards his aunt. “Thanks, though.” He adds as an afterthought. “Excuse me.” He walks off, having spotted Henry in the corner, and Emily sighs as he goes.

Her relationship with Jack had always been good, but since Aaron’s death it had been difficult. Tense in a way that tore through her. Their mutual love for Aaron was no longer the thing that was the foundation for Emily and Jack’s relationship.

It was that they both believed his death was her fault.

“Emily.” Jessica puts her hand on her arm and squeezes it. “He’ll come around. You know he doesn’t actually think-”

“Thanks, Jess.” She cuts the other woman off, not wanting to hear anything else. She walks off again, desperate for a moment alone.

JJ seeks her out again once most people have left. The team helps tidy up, removing all traces of the wake from her house before they leave. JJ has a plate of food in her hands that was clearly intended for Emily. She places it in front of her on the coffee table and sits next to her.

“I’m not hungry, JJ.”

“Em, please.” She says, worry laced through her voice. “You have to eat something. He wouldn’t-”

“JJ stop.” Emily shouts, finally at her wits end. “Aaron is dead. He’s dead. So it doesn’t really matter what he would want, does it?” She curses under her breath as tears spring to her eyes, and she wipes them furiously away from her cheeks as they fall. She’s aware of the rest of the team around them, stopping their individual tasks and desperately pretending they weren’t listening in.

“Emily-”

“Do you know what I keep thinking about?” She asks, interrupting any more platitudes JJ may have that she simply cannot bear to listen to, she watches as her friend shakes her head. “I keep thinking about when I died. There was nothing. It was dark, and empty. Just nothing.” Emily’s chin wobbles as she tries to keep the emotion in, failing as her next words choke out around a sob. “And I lay there at night, on his side of the bed, and hope it’s different for him.”

This time she doesn’t shy away from JJ’s touch, and allows herself to be pulled into a hug she cannot bring herself to return. ___________________________

Once everyone has gone she lays in bed, on his side, and stares at the ceiling. She is wearing one of his shirts and wonders when all of his clothes will stop smelling like him, when she will lose the last trace she has of him.

Emily closes her eyes, both wanting sleep to come and for it to evade her. Aaron was always in her dreams, mostly good ones. Memories of their lazy mornings in bed together played out during the night in her head. The sound of his laugh as he trailed his fingers down her spine to wake her slowly, his enjoyment at her inability to function first thing in the morning never ending.

The dreams were a blessing. A reminder that it had been real, that she’d had him. They were also a curse. She’d wake with the ghost of his touch on her skin, and for a blissful moment she’d forget he was dead. She’d half expect to see him standing at their bedroom door, coffee in hand with a smile on his face.

Then she would remember, and it was always too much to bear. ___________________________

It’s Dave that comes over. Letting himself into the house with the spare key Aaron had given him, claiming that he felt better knowing other people that they trusted had access to their home in case of an emergency. Emily knew it was a lingering fear he had from when Foyet had broken into his apartment, those memories still sharp in his mind until the day he had died.

A small knock on the bedroom door announces Dave’s arrival a mere second before he opens it. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t tear her gaze from the dress hanging on the door of the closet. She's sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the side of the bed. Her knees are against her chest, her arms wrapped around them like she was physically holding herself together.

“Did you draw the short straw today, Dave?” She sniffs, wipes her hand across her face to wipe off what felt like ever present tears. “You guys don’t need to check up on me. I’m fine.”

Dave sighs and sits next to her, groaning as he joins her on the floor, his body protesting the movement. “You’re not fine, bella.” He says simply. “And the others don’t know I’m here.”

She can sense his want to help her, sees his fingers twitch out of the corner of her eye as he seemingly tries to figure out if she wants to be touched or not. In the end he settles for leaning against the bed with her, a distance between them just small enough that she can feel his presence. Emily leans her chin on her knees, eyes still fixed on the white dress infront of her.

The dress that, if things had been different, if she hadn’t lost him, she should have worn today. She remembers teasing Aaron about it, telling him just enough about how it fastened up her back, how careful he’d have to be when he took it off to not break any of the delicate buttons.

She fiddles with her engagement ring before she opens her clenched fist to reveal two matching wedding bands in the palm of her hand. The rings they would never get to wear.

“It’s meant to be my wedding day, Dave.” She says, voice breaking around the words that didn’t need to be said. “And he’s not here, he never will be.” ___________________________

June 2021

When Aaron first moves back to Virginia it feels strange, like he was stepping back in time. The first thing he thought of was the team, of her. Once he no longer had to hide his identity he could have reached out. He almost had more than once, this thumb hovering over Emily’s name in his contacts, but he always stopped himself. Unsure what to say, thinking whatever they could have been had passed them by in a flurry of tragic circumstance and bad timing.

He’s back for two weeks when he sees her, and she’s somehow more beautiful than ever. He calls her the next day. ___________________________

Emily shouts at him. A lot. Years of pent up anger and worry spilling out over the phone when she answers, mixed with curse words and sighs in a way that was just so *her* it makes him laugh.

“And what is so fucking funny, Aaron?”

He clears his throat, tries to smother another laugh but doesn’t quite manage it. “Nothing, Emily. I just...I missed you.”

“Well.” She replies. “Whose fault is that.” There’s a pause, and it is just long enough that he thinks she’s going to hang up, leaving their interaction there. Aaron is about to speak and give her an excuse when he hears her sigh. “I missed you too.”

A spark of hope flares in his chest, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. “How about I take you to dinner? My treat. You can yell at me in person.”

Emily laughs at that, and he can picture how her eyes would crinkle with it. She was always so damn beautiful when she smiled. “That does sound appealing.”

“Tomorrow? If you don’t get caught with a case?”

She pauses, and he would bet his life savings if he could see her that she was biting her lip. “Tomorrow.” ___________________________

When she doesn’t get a case, and confirms that she will meet him at the restaurant he suggested, Aaron tries not to overthink it. He tries not to get carried away and think that this could be their chance, that the universe was finally aligning for them.

Emily tells him about her relationship with Andrew, how it had come to an end. Both of them were too set in their ways to truly make room for each other in their lives. He tells her about Jack, how he cannot believe his son is a teenager. The years had slipped by in a way that made him reflective, and she teases him out of his melancholy by telling him stories about the team. Aaron didn’t realise how much time had passed until the waitress came over and gently told them they needed to close the restaurant. Emily exchanges a sheepish look with him when they realise they are the last ones there.

She refuses his offer of walking her home, claiming it was pointless since she lived so far away and that she’d be fine in a cab. He gets a text from her when he gets home himself, an offer of another meal soon, insisting that she pays next time.

For their third date, because that was how he now exclusively thought of their dinners, if only in his head, he purposely choses somewhere near hers so he can walk her home. She narrows her eyes at him as he suggests it, having figured out his game but she allows him to play it anyway.

During the three block walk to her place she slips her hand into his. He turned to look at her but she was pointedly looking ahead, avoiding his gaze. That’s when Aaron realises she wants this as much as he does, and is just as worried about it as he is, what it could do to both of them. Neither of them would ever admit it, but they were both fragile when it came to love. Damage as clear as the scars they both bore on their bodies.

He stops them in the street, now half a block from her building, and stands in front of her, still holding onto her hand. He uses his spare hand to cup her cheek, to make her look at him. She licks her lips, her eyes now staring right into his.

He’d always thought her eyes were beautiful.

Aaron closes the gap between them and presses his lips to hers. She responds almost immediately, tearing her hand out of his so she can cup the back of his head and pull him closer.

It’s years of waiting, of hoping, coming together in a perfect moment. Her hands are in his hair, and his are on her back, pulling her closer as he tastes the dessert they shared on her tongue.

She pulls back, and rests her forehead against his, a laugh escaping her lips before she presses them against his again.

“We should have been doing this for years.” She murmurs against his lips, her hand stroking the back of his head . He mumbles his agreement before kissing her again, unable to help himself now the dam was broken. She suddenly pulls away, lips swollen as she looks at him, seemingly remembering that they were standing in the street still. “Come on, let's go.”

Aaron smiles at her as she tugs his hand, determined to lead him down the street. “Where are we going?”

“To mine.” She says simply, groaning when he comes to a stop, easily stopping her from walking any further. He places a hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him again.

“Em-”

“Don’t ask me if I'm sure.” She says, bringing a hand to his cheek and smiling at him, “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

That night they lay in her bed, in tangled sheets, fingers trailing over scars they’d both imagined for years. They are reverent with each other, acting as if they are both made of something precious. He laces his fingers through hers as he enters her for the first time, her broken gasp in his ear almost too much for him. When she breaks around him and he follows her over the edge he whispers words of praise into her skin, tells her how perfect she is to him, and he hears her repeating it back to him as her lips press to the scar closest to the top of his chest.

Aaron thinks she has never looked so beautiful as she did when she was curled up against him in her bed, hair in disarray and a sleepy smile on her face. When he tells her as much she scrunches her nose at him and tells him he’s ridiculous, a hand sliding up his chest as he pulls her in and kisses her again.

He stops himself from telling her he loves her that night as she falls asleep in his arms. The promise of their next date being breakfast the following morning dying on her lips as she is lulled into sleep. ___________________________

Emily gets hurt on a case a month later, and it’s bad enough that she ends up in hospital. Dave calls him, and Aaron isn’t even sure how he knew to do so until he says Emily asked for him.

The case was mercifully close by, Aaron jumping in his car to do the two hour drive as soon as he’s off the phone with Dave. A note left for Jack saying what had happened, and a call to Jessica to ask her to look after the teenager that night.

He makes it to the hospital in 80 minutes. A vaguely amused looking Dave meets him at the front desk and tells him that she is fine, that she lost a fair amount of blood to the unsub’s knife and that they were keeping her in for observation overnight.

Aaron doesn’t believe him until he sets eyes on her himself, the door to her room clicking closed behind him. He briefly thinks about the team standing outside her room, the confusion on their faces at him being there, at what he was sure was fear on his face.

“Em, sweetheart.” The nickname slips out before he realises what he is saying, the first time he’s said it, and it makes her eyes brighten at him.

“Hi Aaron.” She tries to smile at him, but the pain lacing through her arm and shoulder means it doesn’t go far. She swallows against her dry throat and she holds out her good hand to him which he eagerly takes, any concerns about the team disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. “It looks worse than it is.”

He raises an eyebrow at her before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Me too.” She smiles up at him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Em.” Aaron smiles when she fails to suppress a yawn. “You should get some sleep.”

Emily frowns at him. “You only just got here.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He runs his hand over her forehead, pushing her hair out of the way. He can’t help but smile when her eyes flutter shut at the first touch of his skin to hers. He keeps the movement across her skin going, watching as her breathing evens out.

“I think I love you.” He whispers, sure she was fast asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by his thumb stroking over her forehead.

She laughs weakly and opens her eyes. “Oh, well I know I love you.”

Aaron leans down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you.” Another kiss. “Now get some sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She closes her eyes, the painkillers in her system making her tired. “I hope you’ll always be there.”

Aaron smiles at the admission, something she would never have said out loud in normal circumstances. He runs his thumb over her forehead again.

“I’ll always be here, I promise.”

(It’s the only promise he ever breaks.)

#hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #angst #major character death #fanfic #fanfiction #i am oddly proud of this #I made myself sad

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roman-writing · 4 years ago

Text

bring home a haunting (10/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 18,021

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

Author’s notes: you’ll notice that we’ve stopped updating weekly. This is due to the fact that we’ve run out of backlogged material and are now writing in real time. Thank you for your patience with the final few updates.

read it below or read it on AO3 here

X: 1978-1983

—

The summer air was a warm suggestion of a breeze. The curtains trembled slightly in its passing, just a feeble stir that could not quell even the muted birdsong of robins. A bedroom awash in late afternoon sunlight that softened the wooden furniture and the textured wallpaper until everything was steeped to the same pastel shade of the bedsheets.

Dani sat in the chair before her cramped writing desk. It was too small to do any real work, but it was the only thing she could fit into this room – her own space – without her mother complaining. Most days it was used for little more than picture frames, curios, and stacks of clean laundry waiting to be tucked away into drawers, neat and soldierly. Today she had cleared a space and placed on it a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and an envelope with no address.

The heat was such that the back of Dani’s thighs stuck to the wooden chair when she shifted in her seat. She folded her heel atop the chair so she could rest her chin against her knee and stare at the sheet of paper. She chewed at the edge of her thumbnail until the skin there was raised and red and ragged, until she tasted the tang of copper, until she had to tuck her thumb away behind a closed fist and press her knuckles to her mouth.

The summer days were long and mercifully empty. No assignments. School wouldn’t start again for another month. No mother. Karen was out at some work function and had elected to leave Dani behind for once. No obligations. Nowhere to be. Nothing but the slow whittling away of minutes, of hours, of walking down the warm familiar streets and feeling the cold notion wash over her that she had let another day slip away.

Taking her courage into her hands, Dani picked up the pen. She held it over the page, as if in the vain hope her thoughts could flow from the tip of the pen without her input. She sat up straight, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, began to write.

‘Dear Jamie –’

—

The sharp edges of the walkie talkie dug into her palm as she gripped it with white knuckles. Vestiges of a dream still hovered over her, just as the pale suggestion of diffused moonlight shone through her curtains. Her thumb hesitated over the press-to-talk button, still curled into the same tangle of limbs and sheets she had woken up in, her breath now back to normal from the shallow gasping that had felt like drowning. Usually, there was a comfort in knowing that Eddie was a creature of routine. In bed by eleven, but asleep by twelve after sneaking in another hour of reading. But looking at her bedside clock now, red numbers blinking the witching hour in the dark, deftly ignoring the photo frame just beside it, Dani wavered, knowing he’d be asleep by now.

Hearing the distant sounds of the television still going through the floor, the hum of the box fan — her mother asleep or awake, she couldn’t really care — Dani exhaled a slow trembling breath, and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie?” Dani murmured softly. She waited for a long moment, pressing her forehead against the plastic, but when he didn’t respond, she swallowed hard and repeated, “Eddie? Are you there?”

She grimaced at the poor word choice, but kept silent, waiting. In the long stretch of silence, she let her eyes slip closed, her throat feeling thick. She sighed and whispered again, “Eddie?” feeling as though she was calling through some distant veil.

There was still no response. Just as resignation was settling heavy in her chest, exhaustion pressing on her eyelids, static buzzed through the speakers. “Danielle?” came a heavy, sleep-ridden voice.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - go back to sleep. It’s fine.”

“Are you okay?” Eddie murmured, along with the sound of shuffling fabric. Dani remained silent, worrying her lower lip, guilt whorling in her stomach. When she didn’t respond, Eddie spoke again, sounding slightly more awake, but no less gruff. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I - um. I just - “

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

He was silent for a moment, and carefully asked, “Another nightmare?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice.

“Do you want to talk about it this time?”

Against her will, before she could even stop herself, Dani’s eyes darted to the photo frame. To Jamie’s broad smile, to her younger self clinging on to Jamie’s back as Jamie held her up in a piggyback. Her breath catching in her throat, Dani blinked and turned on her back to stare fixedly at the streaks of moonlight stretching along her ceiling like slim, ghostly fingers.

“No,” Dani murmured, pressing a palm to her eyes to banish the burning there, “I just - I wanted to hear your voice.”

Eddie hummed, as though half asleep already. “Won’t your mom hear?”

“She’s downstairs.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, the static dropping quiet briefly, but quickly returned along with the new sound of ruffling paper, “Want me to read aloud again?”

Biting back the embarrassment burning her cheeks, Dani murmured, “Please?”

Chuckling softly, Eddie said, “Are you up for some Lord of the Rings, or something else?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Lord of the Rings it is,” Eddie murmured, and then quietly began to recite from where they had left off last time.

Dani slipped her eyes shut again as she listened, resting the walkie talkie against her chest. For however much she tried, for how many times Eddie had asked for her thoughts on one plot point or another, Dani for the life of her could never remember a single passage the morning after. It was never about the story, nor was it simply just listening to Eddie’s sleep-roughened voice for all the comfort it gave her. If she could shut her eyes, and leave the walkie talkie on the pillow beside her head, she could almost imagine it. Eddie lying beside her, with her head on his shoulder, and for a second she could pretend he smelled of sandalwood instead of sharp soap, the fabric under cheek flannel instead of a woolen sweater, and —

It wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same. Not with guilt burning like acid in her stomach, not with her chest feeling so heavy and tight. Drawing in a low breath, Dani slowly peeled herself away from her too warm comforter and off her bed to pad quietly towards her open window, keeping the walkie talkie close to her chest. She slipped through her thin curtains that danced in a slight breeze and leaned her elbows on the windowsill, resting her chin on her arm as she looked out into the night of her backyard.

Beneath the low tones of Eddie’s voice, there was the sound of crickets and the whisper of a warm breeze. The neighborhood was dark but for the glow of distant streetlamps and the gleam of the moon and starlight. And just there in the far distance, a plane blinked red and white lights as it passed far overhead in the dark sky like a manmade shooting star. Maybe if it were a few months ago, maybe then she would have pressed her eyes shut and made a silly, small wish. Top marks on her next test. A new dress for her birthday. Her favorite meal for dinner. But her wishes seemed too big these days. Too large to fit in the palm of her hands. Words that felt more like prayer on her tongue.

Sighing softly, Dani’s gaze drifted slowly towards the tree with it’s thick trunk and long limbs that stretched towards her window, leaves ruffling softly. Eddie was still murmuring diligently, reciting some passage that happened to be some poem or song.

“He sought her ever, wandering far where leaves of years were thickly strewn. By light of moon and ray of star, in frosty heavens shivering. Her ma — “

“Eddie?” Dani interrupted softly.

Eddie fumbled over the words. “Yeah?”

“Do you still know how to climb trees?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Sure. Yeah. I mean - I haven’t tried since Tommy dared me years ago, so I guess?”

“Do you think,” Dani started slowly, “that you could climb the one in my backyard?”

“Probably.”

“Would you?”

“What - like - right now?”

“No, I - I - ” Dani stumbled, and swallowed thickly.

“Danielle,” Eddie sighed, and there was the sound of a book being shut, “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t really feel like risking breaking my neck right now, or your mom catching me. I don’t know which is worse, honestly.”

His voice was starting to trail off in a lethargic slur before letting out a long yawn, and Dani bit back again the guilt that gnawed viciously through her chest.

“Sorry, I - “ Dani said, standing upright, shoulders rigid, “I didn’t mean to keep you. Go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked in a sleepy murmur, “You were upset.”

“I’m fine,” Dani lied, “I’m fine now. I promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathed, “Night, Danielle.”

“Good night.”

There came then a long silence. Suffocatingly empty, as though all the air had been drawn from her room. She exhaled slowly, a trembling breath that rattled through her teeth. Leaving the walkie talkie on her nightstand, she crawled back into bed, curling up back into a ball with her knees to her chest and let her heavy eyes be drawn back to the photo. Clenching her teeth hard, she shut her eyes where the memories of that day pressed against her eyelids as though it were a film reel, lulling her back into a restless sleep.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Last night I dreamt you climbed up through my window sill. You held out your hand and said to come with you, as though you were Peter Pan and I was Wendy. I remember wanting to laugh, I think. I almost expected you to be wearing that outfit and that hat, but you were just you. Smiling at me. That’s all I remember really.

I don’t think you ever knew how much that meant to me. That time you climbed up my window for real. Just to be here for me when I needed you without ever having to tell you. I think that’s one of the things I’m going to miss the most, how I never had to ask or say anything. You somehow always just seemed to know. I don’t think anyone was ever as good at it as you were. Except for Carson, maybe.

Are you okay? Is Mikey? Are you eating enough? Is it getting any easier? I can’t stop thinking about it, how tired you looked when I last saw you. I keep thinking of all our time together and how we wasted so much of it at the end. I should have visited more, maybe. I should have tried harder to talk to you, to help, no matter how upset you got with me. I’m sorry.

I wonder where you are now, where they took you and Mikey. Are you still in Iowa? Sometimes I like to imagine you on a beach somewhere, or in the mountains like you always wanted to see. I like imagining myself there with you, too. Mostly, I like to imagine you back here again.

It’s getting harder, not having you here. Mom kept saying the most terrible things after you were gone that I won’t repeat here; it’ll just raise your blood pressure. Eddie tries to help, and I love him, but he’s always been scared of mom and I don’t think he knows how to deal with something like this. With losing so much all at once. The only thing he’s ever really lost was the baseball state championship. Judy does her best though, and so does Carson, but they don’t really talk about it. They miss you a lot. They don’t need to say it, but I can see it.

I don’t know if you’ll ever get these letters. Most of the time it feels like I’m just addressing the side of my bed where you used to sleep when you stayed over. But I hope you know this isn’t some attempt being nosey, or guilt tripping you into something. All this is, is everything I can’t say out loud, all the things I couldn’t. That I still care and always will. That I’m here. That I can wait, however long it needs to be.

Do you remember when we were thirteen at the cottage, bored out of our minds because the power cut out so we decided to go run and dance in the rain? I hope the next time you stand in the rain, you think of that and think of me, just as I do you.

- Dani

—

The t-shirt didn’t smell like her anymore. Too many months of too many laundry days, and all Dani was left with now was worn fabric that felt softer than ever and a print of Debbie Harry’s face giving her a sidelong glance with the words ‘Blondie’ in blue cursive type above her head. She ran her hand over the embossed design, and without thinking Dani shucked off her shirt to toss on her bed beside a pile of fresh laundry, and slipped the Blondie t-shirt over her head.

There was little to no relief in wearing it anymore. Not when it smelled sharp and clean of florals and downy, long missing the faint smell of earth, the practical detergent Nan favored, and just plain Jamie. It was simply a t-shirt now. An article of clothing that she once borrowed and slept in. Something that had been buried, forgotten, in her rucksack until it had been too late to return. No comfort in pretending she could fall back asleep within it, no comfort in hugging a too soft pillow and imagining it was someone else. Standing now in the middle of her room and running her hand over the soft fabric, Dani knew of course that it was fruitless to pretend, to wish. Even so she couldn’t help the thought running through her head every time: it didn’t smell like her anymore.

The upended laundry basket had been tossed to one side of her room. She moved slowly, folding and setting aside laundry to be put away later. There was a distant ache travelling up the back of her neck to her head, a constant presence now along with the ache in her jaw from restless nights of grinding her teeth. As she bent low to tuck away a pile of pants into a drawer, a twinge pulsed over neck and the crown of her head. She winced, reaching up to dig her fingers into the offending muscles and nerves, gradually moving upright. Her fingers grazed against the cool metal of her necklace and she froze.

Dani stood quietly with the ache and took stock, slipping her eyes shut and clenching her fist, listening carefully to the sounds of the house. The television laughed through the thin floors. There was the distant heartbeat of the washing machine all the way in the basement on its second load. And her mother, quiet within her own company. She took careful steps towards her door, left open just a crack from when she had swung the door shut with her foot, arms laden with a laundry basket. Music travelled up through the stairwell and through the hall, a theme song jingle for some sitcom. Drawing in a steadying breath, Dani pushed herself out of her room to brave downstairs.

She dodged the floorboards that creaked and groaned predictably on deft, quiet feet. Tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted from the living room as she passed, and even now, the thickness of it still choked the back of Dani’s throat. The kitchen was a reprieve, the windows wide open to let in the late summer breeze, the floor cool beneath her bare feet, and she went about filling up the kettle and setting it on the backburner of the stove to boil.

She absently stretched and prodded at her neck as she moved throughout the kitchen, pressing against pinched nerves while digging out a tin of cookies to set some aside on a saucer for a late morning snack. Swinging open the cupboard that held all their mugs and glasses, Dani robotically pulled down her favored blue mug with scattered stars and reached further back, her hand darting about looking for a single mug in particular that kept hidden an old yet treasured altoid tin. But as she blindly probed the back of the cupboard, fingers searching for dented and scratched metal within ceramic, her brows slowly knitted when she came up empty.

Pulling her hand back, her frown deepened as she stared deep into the dark cupboard, her eyes darting over every corner. Something heavy seemed to drop and pull violently in her stomach, a tight cinch forming in her chest. Biting at her lip, Dani rose on her toes, shoving around mugs and cups, picking up and setting them aside when it wasn’t what she was looking for. A mug with floral designs, and a tin packed with precious tea, priceless hidden treasures.

Her breath was coming in fast, shallow and panicked and trapped within her chest, embers flaring within her lungs. “Mom?” she called out, her voice trembling, “Mom, where’s -?“

The kettle whistled. Dani gasped, the sound shrill and startling. She whipped around, her arm knocking into something hard, and ceramic shattered on the floor. Dani jumped back, bumping hard into the counter behind her, the corner digging painfully in her lower back. Pressing a hand to her sternum, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani stood there wide eyed with pained shallow breaths, the kettle’s whistle shrill and loud, and at her feet, the scattered remains of her starry mug.

“Jesus Christ -!” her mother called out from the other room, “What have you done now?”

Dani was frozen, her heart a claxon in her chest, a sharp whistle ringing through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway and exhaled heavily.

“Goddamn it,” Karen said, a faint slur to her voice, carefully stepping around the disarray to pull the whistling kettle off the burner and twisting the knob with a click. “What is wrong with you? Look at this mess.”

Her mother continued on, blustering about in the kitchen, stepping around shards of ceramic, but Dani could barely hear her. The kettle was off the stove, but the ringing in her ears remained, shrill as a train whistle. Her breath shallow, her hands clenched into trembling fists at her side, she stared down the shattered remains of her mug, pieces of stars amongst a blue backdrop scattered along the floor like the big bang, hastily swept away by a frayed broom in her mothers hands. All at once, it felt as though the strained tension along her neck and scalp snapped and went taut, the necklace around her neck heavy like a noose.

Karen sighed. “Relax, Danielle,” she said, “It was just a mug.”

But it wasn’t just a mug. It was over a decade of memories. It was sharing tea with Jamie during sleepovers. It was her dad’s bright grin when she unwrapped it for her seventh birthday. Dani shook her head, a movement so small that Karen didn’t even notice, dumping the remains of her mug in the trash can.

“Mom?” Dani croaked, eyes unmoving from the floor, her eyes burning, “My tin - where’s my tin?”

Karen gave her a look of bewilderment, then rolled her eyes. “That old thing?” Karen stepped past her to replace the broom in the hallway closet. “It was an eyesore. I threw it and that old mug away. It had a crack in it.”

Nodding absently, feeling a sharp blow between her ribs, Dani bit her lips hard against the tremble of her chin, her throat growing thick. Her knees wobbled and she slowly sank to the floor, pulling her knees close to her chest with shaking hands. Sucking in a sharp, trembling breath that burned throughout her chest, Dani pressed her eyes shut and buried her face in her knees, digging her fingers into the skin of her shin, willing the floor to swallow her whole.

Footsteps returned to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt. There was a long, slow sigh. “Honestly, it was just a mug,” her mother said, exasperated, “We can get you another one.”

Dani shook her head, biting her lip hard until it hurt, until she tasted a coppery tang on her tongue. When Dani gave no further response, the kitchen drew silent and she could only imagine the frightened state of her as her mother made no other noise of moving away to leave Dani trembling on the floor.

“Danielle?” her mom murmured, soft footsteps drawing closer.

Curling further on herself, her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her knees, Dani turned her head away, trembling from the effort not to cry in front of her mother. There was the ruffling of clothes and movement, her mother’s form sinking down to sit beside her, the smell of smoke and her mother’s sweet morning facial cream permeating the air.

“Honey?”

Dani squeezed her eyes shut, an ache spreading across her chest, the word spoken so abnormally soft and unsure, and for one long moment, Dani could hardly process it, could hardly remember the last time her mother had spoken to her in such a way. A hand suddenly drifted over her hair, a startled, hesitant touch. Slowly, she went stiff, the room still and quiet as Dani waited for a pin to drop, for a rug to be pulled from under her, only hearing the distant breeze from the open windows, the restless tap of the sink. And then the hand stroked through the tresses of her hair, gentle in a way that made Dani’s heart ache. Swallowing thickly, she turned her head and met her mother’s eyes.

It was strange, to see the glazed glass of her mother’s blue eyes behind her glasses and not find any of the usual hardness, the aimless anger or frustration. Instead, there was faint bewilderment. Instead, there was apprehensive concern. Tears slipped down Dani’s cheeks, and haltingly, her mother’s hand reached up to swipe away one with her thumb. Dani’s eyes slipped closed at the touch, and all at once, she felt something concave within her.

“I’m sorry,” Dani whispered brokenly, feeling herself lean closer to her mom’s warmth, “Please, just -”

Her mom gradually wrapped her arms around her as though she didn’t really know what to do, but it was enough, and the ache within Dani’s chest burst open. A choked sob ripped through her, a dam of tears spilled over her cheeks, clutching her mom’s clothes as though that was the only thing tethering her together.

“All right,” her mom whispered.

Her mom held her tighter until Dani was curled into her lap, body shaking with violent sobs, feeling her mother’s hand run repeatedly over her hair. And it was all Dani could do but to hold on as she fractured into pieces on the kitchen floor.

—

The local grocery store had a new supplier; it was the talk of the town for a week. Her mother and her mother’s book club mused over the topic at length over cups of coffee and fragrant steam. They were talking about it when Dani braved the first floor of her house for a glass of water, and they were still talking about it when she returned downstairs to put on her shoes and go out to meet Eddie for a group project. Even Judy across the street had something to say, complaining about the sudden dearth of this or the wealth of that.

“I don’t see the big deal,” said Eddie without looking up from his notebook. “It’s just groceries.”

Secretly Dani agreed, but she did not say anything. They were seated at the dining table with their textbooks open to various pages. Dani had brought her bag of various colored pens and highlighters, its contents spilling across the wooden surface.

“In that case,” Judy replied, “you can come with me to the supermarket. Come on.”

He blinked up at his mother in befuddlement. “But we’re working on a school thing,” he said, gesturing to Dani sitting beside him.

“And you can work on it when you get back.” When Judy waved at him, the keys in her grasp jangled. “Let’s go. Danielle, honey, you can stay here, if you want.”

“No, I’ll come, too,” said Dani, pushing her seat back and standing.

Eddie huffed, but dutifully rose to his feet and followed his mother into the garage. The three of them piled into the sedan parked there, and Judy drove.

“Don’t see why we need to come at all,” Eddie said from the backseat.

“Maybe I need a few hands to help push a cart and carry bags,” Judy drawled, signalling before she turned down a street. “Or maybe I just want your delightful company, Edmund Kyle O’Mara.”

At the sound of his full name being used, Eddie sank a few inches in his seat and went quiet. Clearing her throat, Dani braved the silence that followed with a tentative attempt at conversation, which managed to get them all the way to the store without further incident. By the time they stepped out of the car and into the shop, Eddie had stopped his teenage sulking and was helpfully trotting off to grab a cart. He wheeled it after his mother, trailing dutifully in her wake.

The air inside the grocery store was slightly more cool than outside. It felt like a dampness on the skin. Dani shivered against it and tugged down the sleeves of the jumper she had stolen from Eddie’s closet earlier that afternoon. She cast a surreptitious eye about the place, half expecting her mother to appear from between one of the aisles and catch Dani wearing something so unflattering in public. No matter how hard Dani tried, she couldn’t shake herself of the feeling, and after a few minutes of idly perusing through the produce aisle behind Eddie and Judy, she removed the sweater and rolled it up beneath her arm instead despite the chill.

“Mom, can we get some of these?” Eddie asked, already holding up a bag of corn chips.

“Sure, honey,” Judy murmured, distracted by the list of items scrawled onto a piece of paper in her hand.

Dani peered over Judy’s shoulder at the list. “I can go get the washing powder.”

“Oh, would you? Thanks, sweetheart.”

Dropping the bundled up sweater into the cart, Dani wandered off in search of the right aisle. She turned down what she thought was the proper one, and blinked in surprise to find that nothing was in its right place anymore. For a brief moment, she thought she must have turned down the wrong aisle, and she craned her neck back to read the sign that hung from the ceiling. In the seventeen years she had lived in North Liberty, the shelves had never been rearranged. With a furrow of her brow, Dani retreated and went down the next aisle and the next again. Finally, she found what she was looking for, but no sooner had she reached the home cleaning supplies section than she froze.

Before her a wall of brightly colored cardboard boxes and plastic containers loomed. Rows upon rows. Arms wrapped around her midriff to ward off the prickle of cold, Dani’s gaze traced the lines of unfamiliar brand names in a wandering path, trying to find something, anything, that looked even remotely recognizable. But whatever brands the new supplier had stocked were so utterly unfamiliar, that Dani felt herself go stock-still.

It didn’t matter. She knew it didn’t matter. Any of these would do the trick. It was the uncertainty, the unknowing. Wanting something so mundane — just one thing, just this one thing — to be a mindless decision. And for a fleeting moment, she found herself wondering if this was what all the fuss was about, if this was what it meant. Homesickness. A longing for the return of normalcy. Just for this. Just for a moment.

“Did you find it?”

Whirling around, eyes wide, Dani found Eddie trundling the shopping cart down the aisle towards her. “What?” she asked.

He stopped, glanced at the wall of washing powders, and reached out to grab a box at random, hauling it into the cart along with the rest of the items.

“Why that one?” Dani asked, pointing.

Pausing to consider the question, Eddie shrugged. “Who cares? It’s just washing powder.” Then he turned the cart and smiled. “Come on. Mom’s this way.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I finally had to get rid of that scarf you gave me for Christmas. One of the ends unravelled. I borrowed Judy’s sewing machine and patched it back up, but it only delayed the inevitable.

On the plus side, I got to pick out a new one at a store in Davenport. The car ride with mom wasn’t great, but I think you’d like the scarf I picked in the end. I actually turned around, thinking mom was you standing behind me to show it to you. Don’t think I’ll make that mistake again any time soon.

Do you still have the scarf I gave you? Is it cold where you are? Hopefully not. It’s starting to get cold again here. I wish winter would go faster. The only good part about snow is that you liked it.

Still, it’s not all bad. I finally said yes to a date with Eddie.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but be nice. It was actually kind of fun. We went to the diner and then for a walk. He gave me his gloves because I was cold and I’d left mine at home. Judy, of course, was thrilled. And mom was — well. You know how she is.

I miss you. Stay warm.

-Dani.’

—

Her mother had been snooping around in Dani’s bedroom again. Dani could tell. Dani could always tell. There was a delicate balance to every aspect of Dani’s things — the way she hung her clothes, the way she made her bed, the way she left her closet door open just so, the way she positioned a tiny slip of paper into the shut door, so that upon re-entry she could glance around and see exactly what had or had not changed.

“Just a bit of cleaning,” was Karen’s usual excuse.

Not that Dani ever confronted her about it. Not really. Simple queries like “Were you looking for something?” were not confrontation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” was the usual reply.

Or, “It’s my house, Danielle. I can go where I want.”

Or even, “No. Do I need to be looking for something?”

Though the latter was usually reserved for the days when her mother was feeling particularly distrustful. As if Dani had something to hide. As if Dani were holding a door desperately shut, while her mother rattled the handle on the other side.

Shutting the door behind her, Dani leaned her back against it and surveyed the room. Karen had been looking under her bed. The sheet had rumpled from where she precariously tucked it just that morning. Dani’s grip tightened around the plain wooden box in her hands as she took note of the minute changes, cataloguing where her mother had been snooping and inevitably come up empty-handed.

As if Dani would be so foolish as to hide something beneath her bed. Honestly.

For a moment she listened to the sounds outside her bedroom, but there was nothing concerning. Her mother was still downstairs watching television after a day’s work. How she even found the time to go snooping was a mystery in and of itself.

With a sigh, Dani stepped towards her closet door. Pushing it open, she dropped down to her knees and reached behind a conveniently located half chest of drawers. A press of her fingers in just the right place, and the false panel popped open. She set it aside, then reached in to pull out the crawlspace’s contents one at a time.

An old band t-shirt.

A book.

A Zippo lighter.

A necklace.

A stack of photographs bound by a rubber band.

A cassette tape.

Dani sat, cross-legged, on the floor of her closet, surrounded by a fanning array of items as though at the center of a summoning circle. The box she held in her lap. It was plain and wooden with a bronze latch. The plainer the better. Less likely to arouse suspicion, should it be exhumed.

She hesitated to touch the t-shirt, her fingertips grazing the edge of the fabric as though afraid it would disintegrate at the slightest provocation. Her hand moved to the photographs. She peeled back the rubber band and flipped through the glossy pages. At some point in time, she had labelled the backs of each one.

Here was Jamie in 1976 at an Oaks game with Eddie, eating a hotdog and looking bored while Eddie cheered in the background. Here was Jamie laughing and reaching out towards the camera so that she was blurred with motion. Here was Jamie just a little over a year ago passed out on the couch, while Mikey was fast asleep on her stomach. Here was Jamie. Here was Jamie. Here was –

Nausea coiled faintly in Dani’s stomach. Abruptly, she wrenched open the box’s lid and began to shove all the items inside. It took a bit of furtive rearranging for everything to fit, and then her trembling thumb was pressing the latch shut with a final and resounding click. Her breath was coming fast and sharp. Dani had to close her eyes and steady herself, the feeling of the box beneath her hands, squeezing it shut as though afraid its contents might batter against the lid, yowling to be set free.

Movements quick and furtive, Dani shoved the box behind the false panel in her closet. And sometimes at night, she swore she could hear it clawing against the wall.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Have you ever felt like you were walking towards something you should be running away from? Everything feels like it’s moving so fast. Homework keeps piling up. Mom won’t stop breathing down my neck about my grades and college. Eddie asked me on another date. I feel like I’ve had a headache everyday just this week alone, and nothing I’m doing to stop it has helped.

I know it’s impossible, I know I need to stop thinking about it, but I wish you were here. You were always good at slowing things down and helping me relax. Whether we were sneaking out at night to the movies, or just sitting quietly together in either of our rooms.

I don’t remember the last time I was ever that relaxed. All I can do is smile and pretend that everything is okay. And honestly, I’ll tell you a little secret: sometimes I believe it myself. Sometimes I find myself laughing at something and wondering where it came from. Like all the doors to the rooms within me were slammed shut, and the only one cracked open was this mask I don’t recognize. Has that ever happened to you?

I’m sorry, I should really stop dumping all this on you.

In happier news, I have a small job lined up this summer! I’ll be babysitting the Newman's five and eight year olds. They even have a small dog with curly brown hair just like yours. His name is Jax, and he’s very cute. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s something to keep my hands busy after school’s over. Didn’t Nan say something about that once? Something about moral fiber and idle hands? Anyways, it’s something, and certainly better than sitting around doing nothing.

I hope you’re well. I hope you’re happy. Miss you.

- Dani

—

The school entrance was nothing short of spectacularly adorned of ribbons, balloons, and a banner that read: Homecoming. Groups of students dressed in fancy attire loitered at the front while slowly streaming inside. In the passenger’s seat of one of the O’Mara’s cars, Dani hid her clenched fists in the folds of her pale pink dress and worried at her lower lip as she watched through the windshield. A hand reached out to lightly grasp her fist.

“Hey,” Eddie said, gently unclasping her clenched hand to hold over the console, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani rushed out, aiming a weak grin at Eddie, “Of course. Just - nervous I guess.”

He gave her a kind smile. “It’s okay. Me too, honestly,” he said, and chuckled lightly, pushing his glasses up his nose in a way he usually did when he was nervous. “Kind of feels like we’re sitting in a fishbowl already.”

Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle in lieu of responding, nerves straining beneath her skin.

“But hey,” Eddie continued, lightly shaking her hand and ducking his head to get a better look at her face in the lowlight of the car, “I’m really happy you decided to come with me.”

“Me too,” Dani murmured, not meeting his eyes.

And it wasn’t untrue for the most part. It only just took her the long, winding road to get there. Days and weeks of Eddie asking with hopeful eyes and a gentle tone, only to end with a disappointed nod of his head whenever she had told him no or given an indecisive answer. It was too early to decide. She wasn’t in the mood. She was too busy. But finally, he had worn her down with the promise of all the ice cream she could want, and a night away from home.

In the car now, his eyes shone brightly from the distant light of the school entrance, his grin gentle and fond. “I know - I know it’s been hard lately. With everything,” he started hesitantly, his thumb running over her knuckles, “But let’s try to have fun. I really want to give you a night where you didn’t have to think about anything. Not school, or your mom, or - “ he paused, and smiled weakly, his eyes ducking briefly, the jaw of his muscle jumping “ - or anything else. Just us, having fun.”

Drawing in a low breath, Dani nodded, braving a faint smile. “And remember,” Eddie said, “We can bail any time if we’re not having fun. Get some ice cream, find a party to crash.”

Dani chuckled and Eddie grinned broadly, boyishly sweet and handsome in his blue suit. “Okay,” Dani murmured, and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready.”

It was easy, letting Eddie jump out and round the car to open the door for her with his hand held out. Easy to slip her hand back into his and let him lead her into the school. Easy to let him murmur in her ear how pretty he thought she looked. She plastered on a soft smile in the hopes of coming across as shy at the compliment instead of how abnormally strange it felt hearing those words come from him after all this time. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard him compliment her before, but they were becoming more regular by the day along with those long, captivated smiles, and all Dani could do was tuck the uneasiness away and push it aside.

Instead, she let herself take in the school as they entered, to greet her friends and schoolmates with waves and bright smiles and hugs. To let her eyes scan over the gymnasium when they finally entered, decorated in a bare fairy tale theme. String lights strewn along the walls and above their heads, fake flowers and plants stuck to the walls and placed as centerpieces on circular tables. It was pretty but simple, for all the school budget had to spare, but no one seemed to care. With pop music blaring from the rented stereo system, there was already a plethora of students on the dancefloor and lingering beside a long table of drinks and snacks.

Eddie nudged Dani lightly and bent low for her to hear him say, “How much do you wanna bet that someone spiked the punch already?”

Dani laughed and shook her head. “I don’t need to bet,” she said, and nodded towards the table, “Look.”

Following her line of sight, they both looked to find none other than Sterling sneaking furtive glances around for any nearby teachers or chaperons before carefully pouring in a healthy amount of white liquor from a flask.

Eddie laughed and gave her a grin. “You want some?”

Immediately, Dani’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Um - maybe later?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure,” he said, and tugged gently at her hand, “Ready then?”

Taking another long scan around the room, Dani finally nodded and let Eddie pull her deeper into the crowded room.

There was something to be said with mixing spiked punch, loud music that hammered against your chest, and a crowd of teenagers in one room. The razor facades in school hallways and lunch cliques fading away to awkward but zealous dancing, tears and arguments in gymnasium corners and bathrooms, cheap blue lights that shone above and reflected off of tinsel and sequins. And even as she felt eyes on them throughout the night, even as Eddie smiled broad and proud as her friends complimented how cute they looked together, the facade Dani had painted on remained and she managed to tuck it all away, determined to have fun for the first time in months. Lingering on the outskirts of the dancefloor with Eddie, laughing at his commentary and sharing the occasional dance with him or a cluster of her friends when she felt brave enough.

She had even let herself share a dance with Roger. Eddie had let them go with a good natured roll of his eyes and broad grin. She hadn’t spoken to Roger much recently, not since long before the summer holidays when Nan’s anniversary had come around, but he was still as friendly as ever while they conversed and danced slowly at a respectable distance. But when his smile slowly faltered, a look of somber hesitance crossing his face, Dani felt her heart sink.

“Listen, um - “ Roger started, “I didn’t get the chance to tell you before. Didn’t know when was a good time really, but I just wanted to say sorry. Y’know, about Jamie - “

“It’s fine,” Dani interrupted quickly, just a little sharply. He blinked and slowly nodded, ducking his head, and Dani said again more softly, “It’s fine.”

Roger nodded again and offered her a faint smile, and that was that. They finished their dance and Roger let her quietly slip away with a thanks and apology. She aimed a weak smile at him and went in search of Eddie. When she found him, he was sipping deeply from a red cup by the table and brightened when he spotted her.

“Want one now?”

Fixing her eyes on the bowl of punch, Dani gritted her teeth through a thin smile and nodded. And just as she had expected, the taste was similar to a sweet, pungent acid that burned on the way down. Eddie laughed when she twisted her face, but gamely she took another long sip.

“Careful,” Eddie chuckled, “Don’t want to end up like Kyle, do you?” He jerked his head towards a form slumped over on a table.

“Oh,” Dani said, wincing, “I hope he’s okay.” But when Kyle was roughly jostled awake by a friend and staggered to his feet to be dragged away somewhere, she breathed out a laugh and shook her head.

“Seems fine to me,” Eddie said, and when a fun disco song transitioned to a slow ballad, a look of shy eagerness overtook him. He drew in a slow breath and nudged the back of her hand with his. “Hey - do you want to dance again?”

Dani hesitated. She had been expecting this question all night, but still was not prepared for the way her heart hammered abruptly against her ribs. Swallowing thickly at Eddie’s hopeful eyes, his glasses reflecting bright fairy lights as though they were stars, Dani slowly nodded with a faint smile.

Eddie blinked in surprise. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, feeling her stomach sour, but a broad smile bloomed on Eddie’s face, brightening his features, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart soften at the sight of it.

Without a word, he took her hand and guided her onto the dance floor, wedging them through couples with their arms around each other, slow dancing. Dani kept her head low, focused on the path they took rather than the room encompassing them, the unnerving sense of eyes watching them returning, settling over her like cold water.

All their dances so far had been set to upbeat music, spinning each other around and competing on who knew the most popular dance moves, instigated by Eddie in an effort to make her laugh. She had been grateful, but with every slow song that came and went, she could feel Eddie’s shoulders bunch beside her as he gave her careful sidelong glances when he thought she wasn’t looking.

But Dani was always looking, waiting and anticipating every look or touch of the hand, never having the heart to turn him away, and worse, not knowing why. And this was no different. This was Eddie putting his hands around her waist, this was Eddie giving her a nervous grin as she placed her hands on his shoulders, this was the slow sway they easily fell into, the sound of the ballad pressing on Dani’s eardrums.

There was a look of faint wonder on Eddie’s face as they danced, as though he had never expected them to end up here when the night began. There was an intensity to it that Dani wondered maybe if this was the part where she was supposed to feel the same way in return, that giddy, lovestruck feeling that all the other girls talked about regarding the boys they liked. As she let her eyes drift across his face, breathing in his fresh and sharp cologne, he was still the same Eddie. Still the same boy who spent most of his time with his nose stuck in a book or rehearsing for a Model UN debate, whose sweaters she stole and whose hugs felt warm and safe. There was a strange sense of both disappointment and relief within her, and in an effort to not think about why, she stepped closer to press against his chest to feel that same comforting warmth.

As she wrapped her arms fuller around him, she felt more than heard him chuckle, a hand moving to smooth up and down her back.

“Having fun?” he murmured. Dani nodded against the stiff fabric of his suit, humming affirmatively in response. “I’m glad,” he continued softly, “That was all I wanted.”

Without warning, her throat grew thick and she bit her tongue to quell the feeling, exhaling slowly when she managed to push it away. “Thank you,” Dani murmured, her eyes slipping closed, listening to the rapid thumps of his heart, “I think I really needed this.”

“Any time,” Eddie said, “God knows I needed it too. Have I told you yet how glad I am you agreed to come with me?”

Dani chuckled. “Once or twice,” she said, “But feel free to mention it again if you have to.”

But Eddie didn’t, remaining silent as they continued to sway. It only took her a moment to realize why, feeling his shoulders tense and his chest gradually expand as he drew in what seemed to be a fortifying deep breath. Her eyes flickered open, her breath caught in anticipation.

“Danielle?” Eddie started, carefully soft.

“Yeah?” she whispered, a pool of trepidation whirling in her stomach.

“Can I kiss you?”

For all the nerves she felt beneath her skin, for the way her heart crashed against her chest, there was a distinct lack of surprise ringing through her. Dani had been expecting this, she had heard of all the ways the other girls expected and hoped their own nights to go with their dates, she just hadn’t been expecting it so soon. This was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it, Dani thought as she slowly pulled back to meet Eddie’s eyes, wide with hopeful anxiety.

She could say no, she could gently let him down, tell him she wasn’t ready yet, that she may never be. And he’d understand, he’d nod and duck his head unable to hide his somber disappointment. She could keep telling him no until he finally gave up, until he was unable to look her in the eyes anymore, until he was asking for space and neglected to call her back or invite her over for dinner. Until he slipped away like sunlight between her trembling fingers, taking Judy and Carson and the rest of the family with him until all Dani was left with was a cold house that wanted to eat her whole, and her mother, both a ghost and puppeteer in equal measure.

Dani’s heart was racing, she realized. Panicked thoughts rushing through her mind at lightspeed, a future that felt like a long dark tunnel with no end in sight. She exhaled slowly and met Eddie’s gaze, waiting with increasingly nervous eyes. Offering him a weak smile, she reached up to push his glasses up his nose and cup his cheek, feeling a faint stubble beneath her palm, and finally, she nodded.

He blinked, a slow look of deep affection bloomed over him, his eyes drifting down to her mouth. “You sure?” he mumbled.

When she nodded wordlessly again, not trusting to speak, Eddie smiled wide and slowly bent down to capture her lips with his. It was soft and chaste, just as it had been all that time ago at a house party, and Dani found it to be almost pleasant for all the stirring emotion she didn’t feel. He made a soft, happy sound and his hands pressed her incriminantly closer before he finally pulled away, dazed and enamored.

“Wow,” he murmured under his breath.

This is the part, Dani told herself, where you kiss him again.

Confetti was suddenly drifting around them, sparkling gold and silver, and a thrilled clamor passed over the room. They both peered around and found confetti cannons on stage erupting with more glittering paper, and Eddie laughed.

“Perfect timing,” he said, his cheeks pink, his eyes bright and happy.

Dani chuckled in lieu of not knowing what to say, ducking her eyes and easing back into his chest, but then the song changed, transitioning into something softer. Familiar soft harmonies interspersed with sparse instruments. Recognition gradually fell upon her like a slow crashing wave, like the glittering confetti drifting over her. Dani sucked in a low breath and froze, her eyes going wide and her mouth slowly dropping open. The song reverberated around the room and pressed against her chest, squeezing tight like a band until it was hard to breath.

“Danielle?” Eddie said, feeling the sudden tension in her shoulders, bewildered and concerned, “You okay?”

“Um - “ Dani croaked, a tremble in her voice, easing out of his arms and unable to look him in the eyes, “I just - can you give me a moment? I need to go to the bathroom.”

She slowly backed away, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see him frowning. He called out her name again, but Dani didn’t deign to respond. Her jaw taut and her fists clenched, Dani pushed her way through the crowd at a brisk pace with quick shallow breaths, the song ringing in her ears like a train whistle. She pushed and pushed until she was surging out of the gym and into the hallway, the door clanging open. It was quieter in the hallway, the music muffled now through the doors, but it wasn’t enough.

There were other classmates loitering around in small groups in the hall, some glancing her way at the sudden noise of her appearance but didn’t linger long. Steeling herself, a desperate thrum beneath her skin that felt like she was being clawed inside out, Dani moved past them further down the hall, her feet heavy like lead, her head ducked with her eyes glued to the ground until she arrived finally to the girls bathroom at the end of the wing. She pushed open the door and let it creak closed behind her.

A pressure swelled within her in the quiet of the bathroom, bursting from her chest in sharp, quickening breaths now that she was alone. Embers bloomed from her lungs with every sharp inhale, her head spinning so that she stumbled forward to grip the damp countertop with white knuckles, the edge digging into her palms as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Fuck,” she whispered in between gasping breaths, her voice cracking from the strain, feeling as though she were drowning on molten lava, burning a path through her chest.

She pressed a palm to her sternum, sucking in lungfuls of air, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, and focused to slow her breath, to swallow down the panic swelling within her throat. An inhale, and an exhale, trembling but slow, again and again until she could finally hear past the rush of blood in her ears and feel the walls expand again from where they were pressing on her. And just as resigned herself that the burn in her lungs would remain until she retrieved her inhaler from the car, a door behind her slowly creaked open.

Dani sucked in a sharp breath, eyes snapping open as she jerked upright, frozen to the spot. Immediately, a heavy stone of dread and embarrassment sank in her stomach when through the mirror, Jackie emerged from a stall, dressed to the nines in a sparkling periwinkle dress with her hair perfectly coiffed and feathered. Their eyes briefly met, and Dani promptly ducked her head, hastily wiping at her burning cheeks, her shoulders hunching.

The clack of heels sounded behind her in the uneasy quiet, moving closer until Jackie was a few sinks down from her, eerily silent as she twisted open the faucet to wash her hands. Dani swallowed thickly, her jaw clenched and her breath caught in anticipation, her heart a claxon in her chest. Waiting for the usual taunting jeer, for a cruel laugh that never came. Instead, there was a silence between them that Dani was unused to, leaving her feeling as though she was teetering over the edge of a great capricious cliff, waiting for a hand to push her off.

Hesitantly, Dani’s eyes slowly drifted up towards their reflections. There was Dani, haggard and hollow-eyed with red stained cheeks. And there was Jackie, slowly meeting her gaze with an expression that was both faintly uncomfortable and tentative. Jackie promptly looked away. Rooted to the spot, Dani watched out of the corner of her eyes as Jackie turned off the faucet to dry her hands with paper towels, and without a word, without another glance back, swung open the bathroom door to make a swift exit. Blinking in the silence, utterly perplexed and exhausted, Dani’s eyes slipped shut and her shoulders slumped with a slow exhale.

She stood there for a few minutes longer, leaning heavily against the counter. Washing her hands with cold water, letting it run long over her fingers and wrists. Splashing cool droplets over her cheeks and neck to cool the burn. Stood there until some semblance of control smoothed over her, until reality shifted back from it’s prism of panic.

Exhaling slowly, she made to finally exit the bathroom, but when she swung open the door, she paused when she was greeted with Eddie leaning against the opposite wall with his hands deep in his pockets, his brow furrowed with worry. When he spotted her, his eyes lit up with concern and he stood upright.

“Hey,” he murmured, taking a step towards her, his eyes scanning over her, “Are you okay? You look -“

“It’s -” Dani started, stumbling over the words as she neared him, “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he said, “You got out of there so fast, and now you look exhausted. And then Jackie told me where you were, which was weird. Wait - did she say something to you? What happened?”

Dani was shaking his head before he even stopped speaking. “It’s - it was nothing. Just - “ the words lodged themselves in the back of her throat. “Can we - um,” Dani said in a whisper, staring resolutely at his tie and not his eyes, “Can we get some air?”

Eddie was already nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he said, “Whatever you want.”

He led her down the hall towards the front doors, and Dani followed wordlessly, easily falling into step with him, almost unseeing, her eyes glued to the floor. It was easy to let him guide her, almost a relief that she didn’t have to focus more beyond putting one foot in front of another, to breathe in the cool evening air when they finally stepped outside. They walked for a few minutes longer, and without even realizing it, Dani found herself being guided to sit down on the first row of bleachers of the school stadium.

Exhaling a slow breath that rattled in her chest, the embers there a dying glow, she wrapped her arms around herself and hunched within her shoulders. A warm suit jacket was strewn over her shoulders, and she shot Eddie an appreciative smile when he sank to sit beside her. He grinned softly and took her hand once again.

“How’s this?” he asked softly.

“Better,” Dani murmured, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Eddie said, and visibly hesitated. “You want to tell me what happened now?”

Dani clenched her teeth, letting her eyes scan over the darkened field, tracing over the red track, and felt a dim ache in her chest. Her eyes glazing over, her thumb drifted towards her mouth and she bit down hard into the skin and nail until there was the faint taste of copper in her mouth.

“Hey - Danielle. Hey -!” Eddie grabbed her hand and pulled it gently from her mouth to hold in a tight grasp, looking stricken.

“Sorry,” Dani croaked, and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, looking at a loss for words, eyes darting over the field for a moment before meeting her gaze. “No, I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, contrite, “I should have taken you to the car instead.”

Nodding faintly, Dani ducked her head. “Sorry I ruined tonight.”

Shaking his head, Eddie shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t,” he murmured, “Just means we can go get ice cream now.”

Breathing out a weak chuckle, Dani faintly said, “Yeah. Sounds nice, actually.”

Eddie pulled her closer, his hand rubbing a warm path over her shoulder and arm, audibly swallowed hard, and finally said, “I miss her, too.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I visited Nan today. I brought a bouquet of her favorite flowers and cleaned up her gravestone. I hope that’s all right, that I went to see her. I don’t visit as often as I used to, or talk to her as much anymore. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been rolling her eyes at how much I talk, but I think she secretly enjoys the company. I went to see my dad too. I don’t really remember the last time I visited him, just that mom got upset when she found out and didn’t talk to me for a few days. I haven’t been since until today. It was nice, I told him all about you. I think you two would have gotten along.

I went to see the house again too. Sometimes I just find myself there without realizing it, driving or walking past, and I’ve done so enough that it doesn’t feel as shocking anymore to see how it’s decayed. The broken and boarded windows, and the overgrown grass. Nan would catch a fit if she saw what happened to it. It’s not pretty inside either. Everything is gone. The wallpaper and paint are peeling and there’s debris everywhere that I could almost hear Nan yelling at us to clean up. The backyard is just as bad as you can imagine. Your bike is still there, but the tire swing is gone. All that’s left is the rope hanging from the tree, just waiting for an accident to happen.

When I was walking through the old bedrooms when I had the sudden thought: I could live here. Now, look, I know it sounds crazy but it wouldn’t be too hard. Just a bit of elbow grease and a little money for repairs and new furniture. I could live here all alone and no one would ever find me. I’d have my white curtains and blue shutters. A reading nook in the corner with an armchair like Nan’s. A garden of fresh fruits and vegetables in the back. Rooms that smelled of flowers and fresh laundry. My own little corner of the world like I once told you about. But I guess it was just a dream.

I suppose I just wanted to see it for myself. It’s been a while now since you left, and for so long I hoped to see you again, but seeing the house like that, discarded and forgotten like a carcass in the woods, I think I understand now. There is no going back. Even when I wake up every night and I want to call you to tell you everything and that I can’t sleep, I remember.

Sometimes I feel like I miss you more than I remember you, and I don’t know what to do with that, or where to put it all. So, I suppose I have to leave it here. At the cottage and in this letter.

Speaking of letters, I got my college acceptance letters today. It’s not what you had hoped for me probably, not the freedom we had both once imagined, but I like to think you might be proud of me at least. It’s a step towards something, towards teaching like I’ve always wanted, and that has to count for something, right?

I hope you know I’m proud of you too, wherever you are and whatever you might be doing.

- Dani

—

The party was far too reminiscent of one she had attended years ago. She had not attended many since, preferring to mingle outside of student housing and on the steps of the library. Not unless corralled by etiquette – de rigeur to a fault.

Dani hunched her shoulders and squeezed herself tighter into the corner as someone passed by without so much as a glance in her direction. “Sorry,” she mumbled and clutched her red plastic cup to her chest.

From this vantage point, Dani could see the entirety of the living room, the open back door leading to the lawn, the pillars framing the entrance to the kitchen. A strange house full of strange people. People draped across the couches, people perched upon the armrests of chairs, people grouped up in packs, people talking loudly over the music, people circulating drinks and no food, people stripping off their shirts and lowering themselves into the outdoor jacuzzi beneath a night-darkened sky.

Taking a sip of her drink – hard alcohol mixed with whatever canned pop was stashed in the fridge – Dani scanned the crowd for any sign of the girl who had invited her in the first place. The girl who sat beside her in class. The girl who invited Dani and who only ever referred to Eddie as ‘the boyfriend.’ The girl with dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes, who took every opportunity to lean in close and whisper jokes in Dani’s ear during lectures, who had grasped Dani’s hand warmly upon first meeting and introduced herself as Lila.

It took Dani a moment to find her. There were so many people bunched about. At one point she thought she saw Eddie outside, conversing with a group of students from the engineering department. His glasses gleamed as he laughed. Knowing he was near enough to reach in a moment was enough. Idly Dani glanced towards the far corner, nearest the unlit fireplace, and froze.

Lila stood in the corner in full view of the rest of the house, very clearly kissing another girl from their year group. Nobody seemed to care or even notice. Nobody except Dani, who stared at the slant of their mouths together, at the grasp of Lila’s hand at the other girl’s waist, at the ease and obvious delight with which they kissed — sloppy yet smiling.

Dani heard more than felt the plastic cup in her hand crumple slightly, and the contents of her cup were abruptly squeezed out, overflowing onto her wrist and the front of her blouse. Swearing under her breath, Dani set the plastic cup down on a side table already cluttered with absent drinks and cans of cheap beer. She shook out her hand and looked down at her blouse. It wasn’t stained, but a splotch of the pale material was now nearly transparent, showing the outline of Dani’s bra beneath.

With a sigh, she squeezed her way past a few people, apologising as she went, until she made it to an uncrowded hallway. There, she peered into an open door, discovered that the room was indeed the bathroom, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

She was standing before the sink and reaching for a wash towel when she saw him. A dark and faceless figure in the mirror, looming over her reflection’s shoulder like a shade. Eyes wide, Dani whirled around with a gasp, brandishing the hand towel as though it were a weapon.

The towel knocked the apparition sideways. It was, she realised, made of cardboard. A life sized cut out figure of Michael Myers. A prank, perhaps. A vestigial decoration from a recent Halloween party, more likely.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered to herself.

Heart still pounding in her chest, Dani shook her head and turned back around. She dabbed at her blouse to very little effect, before resigning herself to the fact that she could do nothing but wait for it to dry.

Voices outside the door. Then the tramp of footsteps receding down the hallway. There was a knock, and Dani called out, “Just a minute!”

Checking her reflection one last time in the mirror — and casting a glare at the cardboard cut out for good measure — Dani opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The empty hallway. She shut the bathroom door behind her with a click, frowning down the hall towards the main room and the party.

“Having fun?”

Dani jerked around to find Lila leaning against the wall and smiling. “Oh! Hi! Yeah, I – uh –” Dani made a small gesture towards the hallway at large. “I like your house.”

“Thanks. I rent it with, like, six other people.”

“That’s a lot.”

Lila shrugged. “Still better than the dormitories. More privacy.”

“With six other people?”

“Maybe less privacy,” Lila amended with a grin. “More freedom, though.”

“Sounds nice,” Dani agreed. “Which room is yours?”

It was meant to be an innocent question, but the moment it slipped out Dani winced. Lila’s grin broadened and her eyes flicked down to the see-through mark on Dani’s shirt.

“I just meant –” Dani stammered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s – It’s a big house. Easy to get lost in."

Lila nodded. “It is.” Then she pointed down the hallway, further away from the living room. “Mine’s that one on the right. I would invite you in, but it’s a mess right now.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Dani, then went bright red. Perhaps one of those boys in the kitchen had poured more rum into her cup than she’d originally thought.

Biting back a snort of laughter, Lila shook her head. “You really do make this too easy.”

Dani grimaced. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I thought you were straight? Didn’t you come here with the boyfriend?”

Dani’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Finally she managed to swallow past the pressure at her throat, and said, “I did. I mean – I am. He’s – around. Somewhere. I think.”

Lila nodded sagely. “Mmm. Yes. Very convincing.”

“That’s –” Dani clamped her teeth shut and cast a furtive look down each end of the hallway, but nobody was coming towards them. Nobody seemed to be eavesdropping. “Did you need something?”

Lila’s eyebrows rose. She cocked her head, still smiling faintly. “Yeah,” she said, taking a step closer. “Actually, I do.”

“Oh?” Dani could feel herself tense, her hands clenching into fists at her side. The air was too warm, cloying, and Lila’s eyes were keen as darts.

Lila reached out and for a brief breathless moment Dani thought she was going to touch her – grasp her gently by the arm, cup her cheek, take her chin between clever fingers and guide Dani by the jaw – only for Lila to turn the doorknob just behind Dani.

“I need to pee,” said Lila. “And you’re standing right in front of the bathroom.”

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped Dani then. She leaned back against the shut door, lifting a hand to cover her face, laughing into her palm. Lila grinned at her as Dani slipped out of the way with a series of breathless apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lila told her, giving Dani a wave even as she shut the bathroom door. “See you in class!”

“Yeah,” Dani waved back and ducked her head, relieved to be heading back down the hall in search of Eddie.

It wasn’t that Lila wasn’t nice. Because she was. And it wasn’t that people at the party weren’t nice. Because they were. A few tried to engage her in conversation while she crossed the main room to get to the back door. She was just tired, Dani told herself. She wanted to go home.

It had nothing to do with the thrill skittering beneath her ribs. Nothing at all to do with the fact that Dani had no idea what she would have done if Lila had made some sort of advance. Balked? Probably not. Accepted? Surely not.

Surely not.

That wasn’t her. Dani wasn’t that person.

“Hey,” Eddie greeted her with a smile when she found him still engaged in conversation with a group out back. “How’s it going?”

Dani wrapped a hand around his arm. “Fine. Can we go? Sorry. I know it’s early.”

“That’s all right,” one of the other guys said — she didn’t know any of their names. He winked at Eddie and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up next week, yeah?”

Eddie’s answering chuckle sounded slightly nervous and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Sure,” then he said to Dani, “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

—

Sex with Eddie wasn't his idea. Only that it was something Dani thought they ought to do. Because it was a step forward, and any step forward was better than looking back.

She wanted to want it. She wanted to think of him and not the way Lila smiled at her in class. The way the cute and curvy barista always brushed their fingers together when she handed over Dani's cup of coffee. The way the older librarian always wore her soft blouse with a button undone so that Dani's eyes could trace her collarbone. The way a female classmate squeezed by her in a tightly crowded hallway with a brief press of her hand to the small of Dani's back.

Most of all she didn't want to be left alone with her thoughts about the dream. About going to her dorm after the party, kissing Eddie good night, only to fall asleep and wake up clutching a spare pillow, knees clenched together. Still haunted by a dream where a faceless figure explored her body with a soft mouth, a roving tongue and sharp teeth. And how she had tried to relieve the slick heat between her legs with her own hands, only to give up after ten minutes of frustration, unable to conjure up a face, unable to feel any sense of connection to herself enough to finish alone. Physicality seemed to jolt her back to herself, away from the jumbled fantasy that existed in the dark and nowhere else, making her feel less real, less tangible.

Sex with Eddie was easier than she had expected. And exactly as awkward as she had expected.

It took a grand total of fifteen minutes. Afterwards, Eddie rolled onto his side and tucked his head into the crook of Dani’s shoulder with a sigh, an arm still flung across her waist. They had a few more hours until her roommate returned to the dorm. She remained there, carding a hand through his dark hair and staring up at the ceiling, while Eddie sketched little patterns with his fingertips against her skin.

Sex with Eddie was uninspired. It was lackluster. And it was — Dani thought wonderingly to herself, thinking of all the girls she’d heard discussing the deed with giggling delight — ultimately disappointing.

She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder, and she blinked down at him.

“That was nice,” he mumbled.

Dani hummed a wordless reply rather than say something in return.

—

'Dear Jamie,

You’d be proud of me. I went to a party. All on my own, no less. Well, not alone. Eddie came, too. But I was the one who secured the invitation, and I think that counts for something.

I had the strangest dream afterwards, though. I don’t think alcohol agrees with me much. Must be a family trait.

I wish you’d been there. At the party, I mean. The whole time I was there, all I could think about was how well you’d get along with everyone. How much more fun it would be with you. I miss you.

All my love,

- Dani

—

It was his face afterwards that had stuck with her. Contorting between bafflement and hurt, fidgeting on his knee after Dani had pulled the rug from right beneath him.

“What do you mean: no?” Eddie had said slowly, as though he was still parsing out the words in his head.

“We’re - Eddie, we’re still so young, and - can you stand up, please? The snow is melting into your pants,” Dani said, pulling at her fingers, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction.

“I just - “ Eddie started, glancing wordlessly around the quiet park where they stood before finally rising to his feet. Without meeting her eyes, he finally murmured, his breath a white mist, “I thought this was what you wanted, too.”

Words lodged themselves in Dani’s throat, confessions building like bile. Things she had never truly taken into consideration before, but couldn’t possibly say. Not on Christmas morning on an impromptu walk in the park at Eddie’s eager insistence, intent on blindsiding her with an unplanned proposal. He had never looked so serious before, lacking the teasing glint he had worn in his eyes the dozens of times he’d asked before in the past years. Utterly earnest with the way he dropped to his knee with the admission he had no ring, but knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

But then she had said it: ‘No.’ The word seeming to come out of nowhere, banging on her ribs to be let out until she was speaking it before she could stop herself. And then there it was, his face. Blinking up at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, her fingers twitching to grasp his hand, quietly urging him to look at her, “I’m just - I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s too soon.”

A muscle jumping in his jaw, Eddie nodded and gradually met her gaze. “But one day?” he asked quietly, hope glinting in his eyes.

It sounded like a promise. One she’d have no say in the matter, or opportunity to change her mind. A contract of infinite fine lines. Dani exhaled, the morning air cold and sharp against her cheeks and nose, shifting on her feet in the snow.

Already tired and the day had barely begun, Dani finally relented. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, smiling weakly, “One day. Just - not now, okay?”

The morning sun cast sharply against the snow, leaving long angled shadows from the trees and their figures, the light glinting off of Eddie’s glasses when ducked his head briefly and nodded.

“Okay,” he murmured, offering her a brave smile that was more frail and still disappointed than anything. But then, the teasing glimmer was back, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. “It was the ring, wasn’t it? Because I didn’t have one and you want a nice big shiny ring?”

Dani blinked at him and then rolled her eyes hard, thwacking him lightly on the arm. He laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a loose hug. Dani let him, slipping her arms around his waist and squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed into his chest, the part of her relieved to hear him laugh again suffocating under the guilt clutching at her heart in a fist.

“Come on,” Dani said, lightly clearing her throat and pulling away to lead him back towards the house, “Before everyone starts to wonder if we ran away.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, slipping his hand into hers.

Dani huffed, and said, “Sure, until my mom calls the police for your head on a spike.”

Eddie blanched, as pale as snow. “Never mind.”

Snickering, Dani shook her head and led him back home. There had been an easiness to him on the way back, his cheeks pink from the cold, chuckling when his glasses immediately fogged when they stepped inside the house. But that had been then, and the hours slipped by with presents shared and lunch had, the easiness giving way to the return of quiet disappointment and dejection the longer they were subjected to the company of Tommy’s newest girlfriend and David’s fiancée. Eddie’s eyes dimming by the hour with forced smiles and hushed conversations in corners with Judy or Mike.

She inadvertently came across one by accident. Wandering into the kitchen in search of something to snack on to channel the nerves bubbling beneath her skin after escaping small talk and awkward smiles with Tommy’s girlfriend. Eddie with his head ducked and Judy murmuring softly to him. She froze when they spotted her, her shoulders tensing as they both gave her similar warm smiles that betrayed nothing of the conversation they were having.

“Sorry - um,” Dani said, eyes darting between them, “Did I interrupt something?”

“Of course not, honey,” Judy said, waving her off and returning to her task of putting together a platter of cookies, “Are you hungry again? Do you want me to heat up some leftovers for you?”

The question almost flew over Dani’s head, instead carefully watching Eddie quietly clear his throat before delving into the fridge for a drink. “No,” Dani said after a moment too long and plastered on a small smile at Judy, “I’m fine.”

Fine was one way of putting it, a dim sense of dread washing over her as Eddie merely offered her a kiss on the head and a crooked grin that didn’t reach his eyes when he slipped by, leaving the pair alone in the kitchen without a word. Her fists clenched, she watched his tall frame disappear around the corner.

There was a sigh behind her. “You kids grew up too fast if you ask me.”

Dani choked out a laugh. “Just a little bit,” she replied, biting her lip and folding her arms across her chest.

The kitchen remained silent for a moment, until Judy said, “Sweetheart, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

There was a faint eagerness to Judy’s tone that Dani had no idea what to do with. Shaking her head faintly, she turned to be met with Judy’s kind but concerned expression. “I’m fine,” Dani repeated, “I promise.”

Judy seemed unconvinced, stepping closer to press her palm on Dani’s cheek, meeting her eyes with a level of intensity that Dani wasn’t used to. Not from Judy. “You would tell me,” Judy started slowly, “if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Words banged again within her chest, beating against her ribs. I don’t know how to love him, it said, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m -

“Of course,” Dani lied, guilt twisting tight around her neck as she gave Judy a reassuring smile.

With a sigh, Judy gently shook her head. “Then I want you to stop worrying,” she said firmly but gently, slipping into a smile that bordered on teasing, “You’ll both come around. I just know it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two souls made for each other as much as you two. Well, besides Mike and I, of course.”

Judy laughed softly and Dani couldn’t help but mimic her, invisible strings stretching her mouth into a broad smile. And when Judy finally left her alone to her own devices in the kitchen with the platter of cookies in hand, Dani’s shoulders sagged and her smile slipped away in place of weariness. It took a moment for her to decide, already pulling down a wine glass from the cupboard before she made up her mind. Digging out a wine bottle from the fridge to fill her glass with a burgundy red that settled heavy on her tongue and smoothed the building panic within her until it was reduced back to a simmer.

It kept her company for the evening, a sip taken for every sidelong glance from Eddie, every encouraging smile from Judy, every stern look her mother sent her way. But when night began to settle and her flushed cheeks began to buzz, Dani quietly slinked away from the festivities to grab her jacket and boots to slip outside the backdoor, exhaling in relief when she stepped out onto the porch.

Leaning against the railing, her breath was a white cloud as she took in the scene. The air was brisk but still and quiet, the sky an indigo blue with faint stars twinkling above her, and for the first time since waking up this morning, a sense of peace swept over her in the quiet of the dark. But Dani didn’t have it for long. She had only been outside for just a few moments when the backdoor opened. Tensing, she turned around with excuses already on her tongue, but sighed when Carson shut the door behind him with a small grin and joined her at the railing.

Without a word, Dani returned to staring listlessly into the dark sky and backyard, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” Carson murmured softly, as though unwilling to disturb the quiet, “Mom sent me to look for you.”

Dani snorted humorlessly. “Worried I was going to run off into the night?”

“Nah,” Carson said, and then paused, narrowing his eyes, “Is that something I should be worried about?”

Breathing out a thin laugh, Dani nudged him in the ribs. He jerked away, chuckling with a pleased grin before digging out a rumbled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one with practised ease, embers glowing bright in the dark, and wordlessly held it towards her. After a beat, Dani took it without looking over at him and took a long drag, welcoming the burn in her lungs.

“These aren’t good for you, you know,” she murmured flatly, expelling the smoke through pursed lips.

She felt Carson shrug. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it,” he said, lighting up a cigarette of his own.

Dani rolled her eyes in mild exasperation but didn’t respond, electing to smoke quietly until Carson broke the silence.

“Look, don’t worry about Eddie, okay?“

She sighed. “Carson.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, turning to face her, “I know he’s acting like a dick right now, but - well you know how he is. His favorite movie is The Graduate.” He twisted his face in distaste as though that explained everything.

Dani gave him a long look. “Is this why your mom sent you to find me?”

He shook his head. “Just to keep you company,” he murmured.

It was irritating how quick her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears that she had to look away to hide them. She took a long drag to settle herself. “Thanks,” she said quietly, smoke billowing from her nose.

Carson was silent, the air thick with an unspoken question until finally he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because believe it or not,” he said, “You’re not that hard to read.”

Her breath caught in her chest, staring fixedly at the untouched stretch of snow in the yard, feeling inexplicably like an exposed nerve. Swallowing thickly, she slowly met his eyes, almost expecting to see every single lie, every single confession waiting to stumble between her clenched teeth reflected back at her as though he knew all along. Just waiting for her to slip up and make a mistake and bleed herself dry. She didn’t know which was worse, the justified anger she had been expecting, or the gentle concern she found in his brown eyes instead.

When she took too long to respond, staring in a faint stupor, his frown deepened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dani beat him to it. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she stumbled out quickly, just a little sharply, and then softened when Carson blinked in surprise, the fight going out of her just as fast. “I just - I don’t like hurting him like that.”

Carson grinned softly. “I know,” he said, “But he’s gonna be fine. I promise. Before you know it, he’s going to be bugging you again about it. He’s relentless, remember?”

Dani nodded, almost unseeing as she took another long drag, weariness becoming a comfortable fixture in her bones. When she didn’t respond again, Carson put out his cigarette on the snow covered railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a sigh. “Maybe you should run away after all,” he said.

A soft laugh escaped her, a small choked sound. She leaned against him when he chuckled and rubbed her shoulder, recalling a jar of loose change and crumbled bills left forgotten in some corner of her old bedroom with a fond, wistful smile.

—

‘Dear Jamie,

I don’t know why I keep trying to write these. Why I keep thinking about them. There’s nowhere for them to go, no address to send to. I write one, put it in an envelope, and then a few days later I throw it away. There’s no point in keeping them. Just as there’s no point in putting them in the post box.

I’ve stopped turning around and expecting you to be there when I have something to say. I guess that’s why I’ve been writing less of these lately. If you were going to come back, or call, or write to me, then you would’ve done so by now.

I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing that everyone else is moving on, while I’m here. I’m still here. Sometimes I think I always will be.

I like to imagine you going to all those places we talked about. I like to imagine your life is better now. I like to imagine you keep a piece of me with you.

- Dani

—

The car had seen better days, this Dani knew. No one had to tell her that. No one had to tell her that every door creaked with the screech of metal at every movement. That the gas meter was wrong more often than not, displaying it half full when in fact it was wheezing it's last breath. The passenger's side was slightly dented and scraped, the undercarriage tinted red with rust. But it was hers, and hers alone.

She’d only had it for a week now, bought just a few days after returning home from college for the summer with the full intention of making the most of it. The steering wheel was solid in her hands, the stereo tinny and staticky, the leather worn and crackling. A contained pocket universe of her own. It had the faint smell of dust and cigarettes, and she had spent the following day cleaning the interior before hanging an air freshener on the rearview window, all too happy to restore it to her liking for the simple fact that no one could tell her otherwise.

It felt like a taste of freedom, driving it for the first time. The sun was a warm companion as it slanted through the windows onto her skin, the wind from the open window whipping at her hair as she spent her evenings driving through neighbourhoods, watching streets and buildings pass by with aching familiarity and a sweet fondness.

Nothing could break her spell of gratified happiness. Not even Karen who scoffed and muttered under her breath with scorn and distaste when she laid eyes on it, displeased that Dani spent all her hard earned money on a car that could pass for a junker. Even when Eddie tilted his head in bewilderment, failing to hide his grimace when she had proudly showed it off couldn't diminish the lightness in her chest. Ignoring his mutterings that he could have come along to the dealer to assist in favor of soaking in Judy’s proud appraisals for taking another leap forward into adulthood, and Mike’s patient smile and offer to look over the car for basic maintenance.

But it wasn’t any of their reactions she had been truly looking forward to. Patiently waiting a full week until finally Carson arrived home from his freshman year at college with slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes to idle the car in the driveway and press on the car horn until he stumbled outside in his new leather jacket.

When he spotted the car and just who was inside, his eyes brightened and he sped towards her. “Holy shit, you did it!” Dani laughed and stepped out just in time for him to wrap her in a tight hug. “God, I missed you.”

“We saw each other two weeks ago,” Dani said, smiling into his chest.

“Yeah, but this is different,” Carson said, leaning heavily into her and groaned, “School’s finally over.” Dani stumbled under the weight of his taller frame and they both laughed, teetering off balance briefly until finally he pulled back. “Okay, I wanna look at it.”

Dani bit back a broad grin as he watched him round the car with the expression of a solemn appraiser. Pulling open doors to peer inside with hums of consideration and sweeping a finger over the scratched paint. He rubbed said finger with his thumb as though brushing off crumbs and finally aimed an impressed expression towards her.

“Well?” Dani said, folding her arms in amusement.

“It’s a load of junk,” Carson said, and Dani snorted, “But I love it.”

Dani rolled her eyes and Carson laughed, slinging an arm around her neck “I can’t believe you did it, I’m so proud of you,” he said, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks,” she murmured with a small smile as she looked over the car.

“But you do realize though that you’re driving me everywhere from now on, right?”

With a derisive snort, Dani shoved him off, grinning when he laughed again. “In that case, you’re buying gas.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest, “No free rides? Not even for your favorite O’Mara?”

“Nope,” Dani said, her mouth curling with an impish grin, “Though I do have the perfect place in mind for the first drive.”

He brightened with curiosity. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Dani hummed, and without any fanfare, she pulled a folded envelope from the back pocket of her jeans and held it out towards him with a murmur, “Happy belated birthday.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “That was months ago.”

She shrugged shyly. “Wanted to do something special since we missed doing something last time,” she said, “And then I saw this, and well - I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

The look he gave her was warm, fondness blooming from his eyes. Without a word, he took the envelope and peeked inside. He gasped, his eyes going wide. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“These are - no fucking way. These are tickets to - ?“

“They are. The show’s in two days.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit, Dani!” He laughed brightly and pulled her into a back breaking hug, lifting her off her feet, murmuring thank yous on repeat in her hair.

The next two days were spent in anticipation and secrecy, having told no one but Mike their plans for the day. When the day finally arrived, they piled into Dani’s car and rushed down the street with breathless giggles in an effort to not get caught by anyone from either household. Carson, happy and eager for the concert, using her dashboard as a makeshift drum with the drumsticks he brought along, and Dani, relieved to finally have an excuse to drive somewhere that wasn’t drifting aimlessly through streets.

The road long and narrow ahead of them, Dani guided them out of town towards Des Moines, North Liberty slowly disappearing in the rearview mirror like a mirage. Driving away felt like leaving reality behind, if only for a while. It was the possibility of choice, itself an illusion. A pretty fantasy she could pantomime like an actor on stage. With nothing but flat fields of corn and grass on the horizon, the great blue sky yawning open above her, she teased at the notion of letting her car take her beyond Des Moines, beyond into the unknown. That she might never leave the road until her tires wore down to the rim or she reached the end of the world.

“How did you even afford all this?” Carson asked over the rumbling of car wheels on tarmac and music hissing from the stereo. “The car and the tickets. It must have cost a fortune.”

“Not really,” Dani said, keeping her eyes on the road, “Saved up a lot from working at that bookstore near campus and years of allowances. And believe it or not - “ she aimed a sly grin at him “ - the car came pretty cheap.”

Carson snorted and rolled his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

What she failed to mention was the handful of bills and change from a certain travel fund jar that had helped her along the way. The money having been tucked away for years in the dark corners of her room, lingering over her like a shadowed veil. It had added up to nothing more than fifty-six dollars, a small dent in what the car and tickets cost that it might as well have been water vapor for all it contributed. But it was long overdue. There was no leaving North Liberty, no traveling the world like she had once dreamed, but having a car of her own, a whole world of her own — it was as close she was ever going to get.

The concert, in the end, was bright and loud and the most fun Dani has had in years. Rough guitars and heavy drums that felt like thunder in her chest, it wasn’t the kind of music Dani would ever actively search out, but she couldn’t deny how easy it was to get caught up into it. The stage lights casting along the surging and dancing crowd. Carson beside her, cheering and singing along to every word with the crowd until he was hoarse. And Dani with her shoulders the lightest it’s been in years, an unknown spectre amongst a crowd of hundreds, with no expectations and constraints tangled around her neck.

On the drive home, loose-limbed and the humid night air thick and heavy as molasses, she kept the windows down to let in the breeze that cooled their skin and ruffled their hair. Carson slouched low in his seat, almost boneless as he fiddled with the radio with a happy grin and lethargic eyes.

“So,” Dani started, “did you have fun?”

“Do you even need to ask,” he croaked, his voice rough. Dani snorted, sparing him a fond smile as he finally settled on a station and leaned back against the headrest, soaking in the breeze. “Although, you’re on thin ice though for refusing to buy me a drink. And on my birthday, too.” He aimed a disappointed look at her and shook his head with a tisk.

She gave him a reproachful look. “You’re underage,” she said, “And your birthday is in February.”

Dani laughed as he grumbled beside her. But when he fell silent again, the hiss of the stereo and a distant rumble of thunder, the smell of rain in the air, he turned to her with an earnestly soft expression.

“Did I say thank you, yet?”

“About no less than a hundred times, I think,” Dani said with a quiet huff of laughter.

“I mean it this time,” he said, “Thank you for this. Really. I missed you guys.”

“We missed you too,” Dani murmured.

Instead of saying anything more, there was a look of hesitancy on his face, his eyes drifting down for a moment. “You know who else I miss?” Carson’s mouth curled into a plaintive grin, and without waiting for an answer, he murmured, “Jamie.”

Dani blinked in surprise, her eyes fixed on the red eyes of tail lights ahead in the darkened road, lightning flashing in darkened clouds in the distance as her knuckles went white against the steering wheel. Hearing that name again felt like the unexpected sound of shattering glass, like the first drops of rain against her skin. One she hasn’t heard spoken in a long time, forbidden and forgotten as though it were a curse. It had been years since Carson’s spoken of her, not since the following weeks after Jamie left. Quiet in his mourning like the rest of the family. Solemn whispers in corners and sidelong glances of concern and disquiet, gradually ebbing away until the jagged edges were smoothed with time until the memories were a faceless thing with no name. Swallowing thickly, she glanced briefly at him, at the fond wistfulness across his features as he stared through the windshield.

“Yeah?” she said in a gentle encouragement to continue.

Carson nodded and murmured, “Wish she was here. She would have loved the show.”

A dim ache spread across Dani’s chest, a fond smile pulling at her mouth. “Yeah,” Dani breathed, “She would’ve.”

Lightning flashed again, sparks of blue hanging low in the sky in the far distance, thunder following shortly in a slow roll. And all too easily, all too abruptly, Dani could hear Jamie’s voice in her head. ‘Looks like a big one, Poppins.’ Could picture her crooked grin and mischievous eyes, eager for another wild storm chase with Dani right at her heels. But they were in Dani’s car this time, and just the thought alone — of Jamie being here next to her, egging her on for another chase, teasing her for being the driver for once — left her feeling strained and bone weary with longing affection.

She found her foot gradually pushing down on the accelerator, urging her car faster down the highway in an effort to vanish the memories and to leave the storm behind them, thunder and lightning growing distant in the rear view mirror.

—

It was the end of the semester, and Dani had offered Eddie a ride back to North Liberty. A carpool to save them gas. It felt strange having him in the passenger seat. Normally he would insist on driving. Other cars Dani did not drive. Someone else would step towards the driver’s side, and she would shrink away towards the passenger seat. But nobody drove Dani’s car except her. Always.

Outside the sky had begun to darken, and the fields were a vast, flat silhouette beneath a deepening grey sky. Dani flicked on the headlights to illuminate the road. Beside her Eddie seemed content being in control of the radio station, fiddling with the dials until he arrived at some jazz or folk station that he preferred. The conversation was calm and easy. The two of them drifted from topic to topic, unafraid of the silences in between. Unlike his brothers, Eddie could sit in the silence of his own thoughts with another person for hours.

It was, Dani thought, one of the things she liked about him best. Being alone, together.

“Have you heard anything from the twins lately?” Dani asked.

Eddie tapped along to a soft jazzy beat in the background, his fingers gently keeping time against his knee. “Not much,” he said. “David’s still at that accounting job, and Tommy’s wedding is all scheduled for April.”

“Where’s that happening?”

“Cedar Rapids, I think.” Eddie turned his head towards her. “Will you come as my plus one?”

Smiling, Dani kept her eyes on the road. “Of course. What? Did you think I wasn’t going to go? Judy would drag me up there herself.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“I’m going to need to buy a new dress, though.”

“Why? Your mom isn’t coming, is she?”

“Well, I don’t know. Tommy’s in charge of the wedding invitations.”

“And you think he’s going to send one to your mom?” Eddie asked, incredulous.

Dani shifted her grip upon the steering wheel. “You try telling her she can’t come.”

He made a face. “No, thanks.”

“Coward,” she said, shooting him a grin.

“And proud of it. Your mom is a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

Silence again. The white noise of the tires across worn out asphalt beneath the faint strains of twelve-bar blues. Dani concentrated on the straight of road, while Eddie contemplated the stars dotting the horizon through the window.

They did not speak again until Dani pulled up to their childhood street and killed the engine in front of her mom’s house. By that time, night had washed over the earth. A few houses on the street burned through their windows with interior lights, bleeding warmth and attracting moths.

“Thanks for the ride,” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the car.

Dani smiled over at him. “Yeah. No problem.”

“You should come over for lunch tomorrow. Mom would love to see you.”

“I’ll be there at eleven,” Dani said.

“Great.”

Through the dim light, she could see him smile. He leaned over the center console and kissed her. His mouth was warm and soft, and he cradled her jaw in his palm. When she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she felt something. Could almost convince herself. The kiss was chaste yet lingering, and when he pulled away he stroked his thumb over the bluff of her cheek.

“Wish mom would let you stay over,” he murmured.

“Like old times?” Dani joked.

“Yeah.”

He leaned forward again. A brief kiss. And then he was gone. Opening the door and hauling himself out, striding across the street. Dani watched him all the way, as he fumbled with his keys at the front door, until finally he had entered his house and vanished from sight.

Her hand was still squeezing the steering wheel in a death grip. With a slow exhale, Dani let go and stepped out onto the street. Unlike the O’Mara house, her mom’s house was dark. When she unlocked the front door and pushed it open, she was greeted with darkness. The smell of cigarettes was familiar and overpowering. Not even a college campus full of hormonal twenty-somethings could compete.

For a moment she lingered, hand at the doorknob, teetering on the liminal space between outside and inside, between sacred and profane. The house itself was a yawning open space. A muzzle. Something with teeth that needed to be chained off from loss of limb. Snatching her hand away, Dani stepped forward and shut herself inside.

Creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. After so many years, this house managed to surprise her still. New groans, new sensitive spots on the floor to catalogue and avoid. Her eyes flicked towards the ceiling, but she heard nothing from above. Her mother must be dead asleep or otherwise out and about for the evening. Dani did not know. Nor did she particularly want to know.

Slowly, carefully, she crept upstairs. Flicking on the light in her room felt like an intrusion in and of itself. As though she had set something alight, touched a torch to the pyre and a roar of kindling. Shutting the door behind her, Dani changed into pajamas as quickly as she could and slipped beneath the sheets of her bed, book in hand. At first she did not open it, ears pricked, listening for clues, but the house was — as ever — usually silent.

She had only just cracked the book open to the marked page when her bedside table crackled with a faint voice. Frowning, Dani reached over, opened the top drawer, and found an old walkie talkie there. The radio was scuffed from use, wire mesh scraped and worn and half buried beneath miscellany. She picked it up and leaned back against the pillows, holding her breath for whoever was on the other end to make a noise again.

It was an irrational thought. A memory. A daydream. A secret. A wish. She clutched the radio to her chest in breathless anticipation, expecting —

“Danielle?”

The speaker crackled with disuse, louder than she had been expecting. Dani almost dropped it into her lap, had to fumble to keep it in one hand. Swallowing thickly, she lifted it and pressed down on the button.

“Eddie? Is that you?”

“Hey,” he said. “You’re still awake.”

“Yeah.”

“Your mom around?”

“No. But I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Silence. It went on for so long that Dani pressed the button down again and prompted, “Eddie?”

“I’m here,” he said.

Her shoulders relaxed. She could almost imagine him sprawled out on the bed beside her, his large frame cramped in such a small space. She wished he were here, now. She wished he were warm and solid beneath her hand. She wished she could touch him. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished -

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. It wasn’t even the second. It was however the first time Dani hesitated. Swallowing thickly, Dani found herself gazing at her bedside table again, at the photo of Jamie and herself propped there, at that broad blazing smile.

Dani squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand was squeezing the life from the walkie talkie, and she had to force her fingers to unclench. She pressed her thumb against the button and murmured, “Good night, Eddie.”

—

‘Dear Jamie,

Come home.’

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton/jamie #bring home a haunting #bhah #damie #roman writes

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years ago

Text

Camping Surprises–Zac Efron

Wattpad Request by ru_ruva

Work lately has been crazy. I've been working as an assistant for a top editor at a fashion magazine in Beverly Hills for three years. My boss has promised me that once I've worked for her for five years, I'll be promoted to an editing job. Plus, it kind of helps that I'm dating the famous actor, Zac Efron.

Zac and I had been dating for two years under the radar before our secret got out. He had wanted at least one part of his life to be for just him and me. My boss and his fans only found out about us after our anniversary dinner was interrupted by the paparazzi.

When my boss found out, she completely changed her attitude towards me. The next year, she started listening to me in meetings, agreeing with my suggestions, and treating me like a human being. She acted like this new found attitude towards me wasn't because I was on magazine covers with Zac, but she and I both knew she was lying.

Since Zac and I went public with our relationship, we haven't had much time to ourselves. It's been a year since our secret got out and things have only begun to pick up. We can't go out without getting recognized which means we can't even have a meal without being bombarded by fans, reporters, or paparazzi. Sometimes all three.

I walked into our apartment, my shoulders, back, and feet killing me. I tossed my keys into the bowl on the table by the door, dropped my bag onto the floor, kicked off my shoes, and hung up my jacket. I ran my fingers through my hair as I walking into the other room. I plopped onto the couch, the long day weighing me down.

I hadn't noticed I had fallen asleep on the couch until I felt someone tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I let out a sleepy moan as my eyes fluttered open. I smiled when I saw Zac sitting on the ground in front of me, his face inches from mine.

"Morning," he whispered. I hummed as he continued to run his fingers through my hair. "What time did you get home?"

"A little after 7," I mumbled.

"Seven?" He repeated. "That's later than normal."

"Well," I sighed, "next month's issue is due to the printer by Thursday instead of Friday because of the holiday. Which means this is going to be a late week."

"I'm sorry," he said under his breath. "I hate how hard she works you."

I just shrugged and closed my eyes as I focused on the feeling of Zac playing with my hair.

"What about you?" I mumbled sleepily. "You're home later than usual."

"Yeah," he sighed.

The sound of exhaustion in his voice made me open my eyes. My heart sank when I saw the bags under his eyes. I sat up and pulled him so he was next to me. I smiled as he immediately laid his head on my thigh.

I started playing with his hair, feeling his breathing slow. I grabbed the remote and turned on a random show. We sat like that, not saying anything, and just enjoyed each other's company.

"Do you ever wish our lives were normal?" He asked, breaking the silence. I looked down to see his eyes still closed.

"Actually, no."

He turned his head up towards me and opened his eyes. "Really?" He asked. "You never wish we were different?"

"No," I smiled down at him as I moved some hair out of his face. "Because if we were normal, we wouldn't be who we are. We might not have met and I hate even the idea of that."

Zac reached up and cupped my cheek, pulling me down to him. I smiled as I pressed my lips to his and immediately started moving them in sync. He broke the kiss and sighed.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I'm sorry that things are crazy. I wish I could tell you they were going to slow down, but we both know that isn't going to happen."

* * * * *

A couple of days later, I came home to Zac already on the couch. He looked up from his computer when he saw me come in.

"You're home early," I teased as I hung up my keys. He put his laptop on the ottoman and stood up. He walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and led me back to the couch.

"Zac," I said under my breath. "What's going on, babe?"

He didn't say anything as he let go of my hand and grabbed his laptop. I nervously played with my fingers as he pulled something up.

"Babe?" I said, my breath getting caught in my throat. "You're scaring me."

Zac put his laptop on my lap and pointed to the screen. I hesitated before looking at it.

"Beverly Hills Glamp Ground?" I read. "You want to go camping?"

"We need a break," he said, looking down as he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers.

"A break?" I stuttered.

"From this world, baby," he sighed, looking back up at me. "I come home every day, exhausted. And I know you do too. I feel like we haven't had any time to ourselves, any time to be alone. So, I want to do something. Something fun. Something just us two."

"And you're idea is camping?" I teased.

"We'd be completely alone out there," he explained. "No bosses, no cell service, no cameras. Just you and me."

"That does sound amazing," I sighed. He grabbed his computer and put it back on the coffee table before reaching over and grabbing my hands, turning me towards him.

"Then let's do it," he said eagerly. "It's a long weekend so neither of us work Monday. You sent in next month's issue today, so your boss won't need you over the weekend. She might not even need you tomorrow. My director is spending the weekend with his family and is even taking tomorrow off."

"I haven't used any of my sick days this year," I mumbled.

"Wait," he said slowly. "Are you saying. . ."

"I can call and get tomorrow off. Then with Monday being a holiday. . ."

I giggled when Zac excitedly leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled as I grabbed his face and kissed him back. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"Let's go pack."

* * * * *

As we pulled up to the camping ground, I noticed another car waiting for us in front of our assigned tent. I looked over at Zac as his brother got out of the other car.

"Dylan's here too?" I asked, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yeah," Zac said as he got our suitcases out of the back. "He needed a break too and wanted to come."

He looked over at me, his eyes soft. He walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'm sorry, baby," he sighed. "But he's in his own tent and promised to do his own thing."

"It's okay," I smiled as I rubbed his chest. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his.

"You two lovebirds ready?"

Zac broke the kiss and glared at his brother. I laughed as I grabbed his chin and turned him back to me. "Easy," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "He promised. . ."

"As long as his tent is far away from ours, I don't mind."

The three of us spent the next hour setting up our camping ground. I went to gather firewood as Zac and Dylan got dinner ready. When I got back they were whispering to each other. They jumped when they heard me.

"You guys okay?" I chuckled.

"Yep," Zac said, jumping up and walking over to me. He grabbed the wood from me and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Dylan and I were cooking dinner when I noticed it was just us two. I looked around, trying to find Zac.

"Where's Zac?"

"He went for a walk," Dylan said, sounding kind of weird.

"It's getting kind of late," I said, not hiding my nerves. "Should we go look for him?"

Dylan checked his watch and bit his bottom lip; something he only did when he was overthinking.

"Let's give him a few more minutes," he decided. "Then we'll go look for him."

I stared at him as he turned back to the fire, trying to hide the look on his face. A few minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up, wiping my hands on my jeans.

"That's it," I sighed. "I'm going to go look for him. It's getting dark and I don't think he has his flashlight."

"Wait," he said quickly as he grabbed my hand and stopped me. He cleared his throat, instantly letting go of me.

"Zac's a big boy, Y/N. He knows not to go too far from the campsite and to come back before it gets dark."

"But. . ." I stuttered.

"Y/N," he whispered, "Zac and I went camping all the time as kids. He's fine."

I tried to finish getting dinner ready, but I found myself constantly looking towards the path. A few minutes later, I started nervously chewing on my thumbnail.

"Actually," Dylan said, clearing his throat as he checked his watch. "Let's go look for him."

I let out a sigh of relief as Dylan handed me my jacket and grabbed the flashlights. We had only gone maybe half a mile before we could see some lights through the trees. I started to go around the campsite, but Dylan stopped me.

"What are you. . ." I stuttered as he looked over his shoulder at me with a smirk on his face.

I sighed before following him. My breath got stuck in my throat when we got to the clearing. Zac was standing there, in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by lights and flowers. My eyes filled with tears when I noticed the pictures of us scattered around.

I turned to look at Dylan, but he had slipped back through the trees. When I turned back towards Zac, he was right in front of me. He grabbed my hand and led me to the middle of the meadow.

"How did you. . . When did you. . . Why did you. . ."

Zac laughed as I stuttered. "I needed to bring all of this, but I didn't want you to see it. So Dylan brought it in his car and agreed to distract you while I set it up."

"I just. . . Why?" I finally got out, tears beginning to fall. Zac smiled as he reached forward and caught a tear with his thumb.

"This is why," he whispered.

I covered my mouth as he knelt down on one knee. He had tears in his eyes as he pulled a small black box out of his pocket.

"Y/N," he started, his voice gentle. "I love you so much, darling. And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone other than you. I know our jobs keep us busy and they can kind of be frustrating at times, but it's all worth it as long as I get to come home to you. I love waking up to you typing on your computer and coming home to you asleep on the couch. I love that you are always willing to run lines with me, go to premieres and parties with me, drive me to the airport at 2 in the morning. I love that you are on my team. I love you."

Zac took a shaky breath as he opened the box. My eyes widened, tears streaming down my face as I saw the ring he got for me.

"Will you marry me?"

It took me a second to find my voice, but once I did, I giggled out my answer.

"Yes," I said through my tears. "Of course I'll marry you."

Zac smiled as he slipped the ring on my finger and stood up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he instantly wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close to his chest. I felt him laugh as he tightened his arms around me.

"I love you," I whispered, not breaking our embrace. "And I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else either."

Zac laughed as he pulled me back into his chest and pressed his lips to mine. We quickly got caught lost in the kiss as we held each other. We broke apart when we heard someone clapping and laughing. We turned around to see Dylan jogging towards us.

I laughed as he pulled me away from Zac, lifted me up, and spun me.

"Dylan," Zac sighed. "Will you please put my fiancé down?"

"Sorry," Dylan chuckled as he put me down. He walked over to his brother and gave him a hug.

"Congratulations," Dylan whispered. He pulled out of the hug and looked over at me. "You got quite the girl."

"Thanks," Zac laughed. "I got lucky."

I walked over and Zac instantly wrapped his arms around me. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.

"I'll umm. . . I'll let you two. . . Celebrate," Dylan laughed awkwardly. He was about to walk away but stopped. "I'll send you the pictures I took but you probably won't be able to post them until. . ."

Dylan stopped talking when we broke the kiss and Zac glared at him. "Right. Sorry. Congratulations, you two."

We laughed as he turned on his heel and jogged back to the campsite. I looked back at Zac, biting my bottom lip.

"How long have you planned this?" I asked under my breath.

"Well," he sighed, tightening his arms around my waist. "I've been wanting to propose for the last year but things got so crazy. I realized that this weekend would be the first and only quiet weekend we had together for the next little while. And I couldn't wait any longer. I had to be engaged to you."

I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smirk as he kissed me back. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against his.

"Is Dylan staying the rest of the weekend?" I asked under my breath.

"No," Zac said simply. "He's heading back tonight. Why?"

He saw the knowing look on my face and laughed. I smirked as he tightened his arms around my waist. I sighed before standing on my toes. I didn't press my lips to his yet, teasing him instead.

"Let's head back to camp and celebrate."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader

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allsassnoclass · 3 years ago

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okay so re: smutless long fics, I’ve tried to compile a list of fics as close to 50k words as possible since that’s the wordcount the anon cited and tbh my friends there really are not that many that I personally have read but I did my best. All fics under the cut are over 30k and have either been verified good by me or my trusted friends

delete this transmission by @anxietycalling: 67k mashton sci-fi. I reread this one recently and it’s just as amazing the second time around I very highly recommend it

“Yeah,” he says, catching sight of his reflection in the dimly reflective surface and running fingers through his hair to fluff it up. And instead of getting on the mag-train home like he wants to, he catches the northbound train to the greenlawn with Calum. “You know, I think I might not go through with it,” he tells his best friend, meaning his activation. They sit together across from the back doors of the car and watch the adverts for an upcoming showing of ‘Titanic’ at the interactive theater. While Calum sits beside him silently he gnaws on a thumbnail and wonders whether it’s too late to get his money back.

“You can’t go back on it now,” Calum tells him.

And it’s true: His payment has already been processed, the credits removed from his profile. The invoice showed up in his e-net overnight and he’d added it to his encrypted folder. “It’s just - weird,” he says, weighing each of the words on his tongue before he speaks. “To be in charge of another person like that. I don’t want that responsibility.”

I’m a Falling Star by @pixiegrl: 55k lashton fantasy, very cute and sweet

A philosopher once asked, “Are we human because we gaze at the stars or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Pointless really. “Do the stars gaze back?” Now that’s a question.

Or: Ashton’s a shop boy setting out on a adventure to find a star to help grant a wish. Luke’s a star crashed to Earth looking for some help to get back home. They’re both in for more adventure than they bargained for.

I Wanna Sleep Next to You... by milecgv: 54k malum college au. I read it over a year ago but I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it then

"Cuddle buddies, how can I help you?"

Pausing, Calum thought, he could just hang up. Get over the moment of weakness and face the rest of the night alone. He could do it. But the idea of spending one more second alone, brought a fresh pang of hurt to his heart and really, he couldn't bear it. Before his thought process could spiral out of control, the calm voice repeated itself.

"Um, yeah. I-, I need someone to-" He cut himself off because really, how was he going to phrase this?

Chuckling softly, the man on the other line interjected. "Sir, do you need someone to cuddle you?"

Shit, it was now or never. "Yeah. I-uh, I do." His voice came out so small, and he really hoped the man on the other side wouldn't pick up on how desperate he was.

~~~

Calum gets the opportunity to live out his dreams in New York City but it proves too much for him, and on a lonely night he ends up calling the professional cuddle service he swore he'd never call.

those are the only three completed fics over 50k that I personally can vouch for, but here are a few more longer ones I’ve read and I’ll link some over 50k that have gotten good reviews from my friends after those.

Destination: Perth by onlythevoid: 34k lashton

The stranger swung into the seat next to him and sighed contentedly. Luke stole a glance from under his hat. It was a boy with light-brown messy hair, reminiscent of surfers Luke saw on the beach in Brisbane - he had a t-shirt on and black jeans, and fade-tint round-frame sunglasses propped on his straight nose.

The stranger caught Luke’s eyes.

“Hey?” The stranger asked. Shouldn’t have looked at him, Luke thought. Too late.

The stranger had set his sunglasses on his head and was peering below Luke’s cap. “Dude. You look terrible. Are you okay?”

Oh, so the stranger was one of those guys. Too friendly and ever-inquisitive. Yes, Luke looked like shit; he’d been crying for an hour at a time, every few hours, and all he’d had to eat in the past two days was some wet broccoli at the hospital and a bag of chips he’d bought that morning in Brisbane, and there were bruises all up and down his right arm from a car crash he wished he’d died in.

Luke didn’t say any of that. He prayed his voice would be steady and said, “Yes. Thanks.”

The messy-haired boy did not seem convinced. After a pause, he offered, “My name’s Ashton, by the way.”

hello, hello by @clumsyclifford: 30k lashton

For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

Now for the fics that I haven’t read but can confidently say are good through a rigorous peer review system (aka I have friends who read them/I have read and enjoyed other works by these people)

home is wherever you are tonight by @lifewasradical: 72k lashton. this one is on my tbr, I have only heard good things, and I’ve read other things by Amanda and trust her as a writer

Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny costal island that needs some work. He didn't plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

world war series by prettyluke: 58k lashton historical au. Megs really likes this one and I trust her judgement

Even after months of seeing bodies ripped apart by bullets and bombs, Ashton still isn't prepared to be ripped apart by the fragile German soldier who has seen far more than any child should.

and

Luke shows up in Britain after 25 years right in time for World War Two to start, and Ashton has been waiting for someone to yank him from his melancholy since Christmas of 1914.

i’ll keep on fighting (just to make you believe) by @squishmichael: 33k muke I have heard good things about this one, have read other works by Taylor and trust them as a writer, and also I did skim this one when it first came out and it’s good I just need to sit down and fully read while paying attention

“Hi, Mike,” Luke says softly.

Michael might have cried from hearing his voice so clearly, not through a phone line, but instead his smile just gets bigger and bigger until his cheeks hurt.

“Hey, Luke,” he replies before throwing himself at Luke, arms looping around his neck and holding tight.

“Easy there, tiger,” Luke says with a chuckle, but he hugs Michael back.

It feels so different, all the shapes and sizes wrong, yet Michael has never felt so at home, melting right into the hug. Luke still fits so perfectly against him despite everything. Because it’s them, and they’re meant to be, and Michael never wants to let go.

In which Luke is finally coming home to Australia for the summer after two years, and everything should be perfect. Michael quickly realizes nothing is.

Under the High Low Lights I See You There by @pixiegrl: 33k lashton 90s bar au. I have heard a lot of good things and I have read and enjoyed Emily’s writing

Luke moves onto cleaning the glasses, sneaking glances over at him, admiring the open blue flannel he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his chest in the white tank top he’s wearing and the pull of it over his muscles, the acid wash denim pants straining over his thighs. He’s attractive and Luke knows he shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t be so obvious in his stares, but he can’t help it. The man was made to be admired.

Or: It’s the summer of 1996 in New York City when Luke meets Ashton at his bar. Things aren’t always as they seem.

He Did Ballet by @kaleidoscopeminds: 34k cake. people love this one and meg is a great writer

Like the way he danced, everything in Luke's life was perfectly placed, an allegro exercise all on beat, an enchainment with no mistakes. The last thing he needed was a distraction, something to pull his attention away and make him stumble, like losing your spot during a series of fouettés. He glances back towards the bar and sees Calum still looking in his direction. Luke catches his eye again by mistake for just a second too long and Calum smiles slowly and winks at him. Luke shivers slightly and already feels slightly unbalanced. Calum is definitely not a good idea.

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

The Sun Is Burning Down Los Angeles by @burstingsunrise: 40k cake. have heard good things and Molly is a good writer

Calum probably signed a form saying he wouldn’t fall in love with the lead singer of the band. And he really doesn’t want to. What a cliché. It’s just…people get famous for a reason. This guy got famous for all the reasons.

***

Calum moves to LA to work for 5SOS.

#fic rec #there really are not that many (good quality) smutless works over 50k #like less than I thought lol #and i think that the over 50k is key here #because i've seen other fic recs with like. 20k fics on them but that's not a TRUE longfic yknow #like none of my fics should be considered a longfic I don't think. unmute will eventually but that's not finished #anyway feel free to add any smutless fics over 50k that y'all know of that i missed!

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

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Thorn part 2

summary: You really should check who’s watching or not.

a/n: My quest to cram as many kinks into a fic continues. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 for helping me finish this and proof reading. Also, yes, I am trying to convert as many people as humanly possibel into Slade simps

warnings: voyeurism, exhibitionism, bondage, blindfolds, degredation-ish, spreader bar, threesome, (what do you call stuffing panties into someone’s mouth), oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, spanking and probably somethings I forgot.

villain’s masterlist

main masterlist

part 1

Something’s been bothering you for the last few days- an itching in the back of your mind that made the nerves in your hands prickle even as you leafed through the notes piled high on your desk. You flex your fingers, reading over a transcript of a witness’ statement. There was something wrong.

“Give us a good show.”

Heat trails up your neck at the memory of his skin against yours but it also agitated something in you. It was probably nothing but the way he said it bothered you. There was something you were missing. A joke. A hint. A pun. Something. Maybe you just hung around Nicky too much. Maybe, but that didn’t still your mind. It was Slade.

You haul March’s fluffy body on to your lap. She rumbles but makes no move to get up even as you thread your hands through her thick fur. In some lazy retaliation, she pads her little front paws against your papers but you don’t find yourself minding since you’re already too distracted. You gaze into her dark fur, a sea of black pooling and shifting on your lap like a dark mass of shadows. Your mind buzzes with too many details. That night was cluttered with too many… sensations. You cup your hand over your face feeling the heat rising on your cheeks. March’s ears perk up and the inky mass in your lap twists to face you. Her golden eyes leering at you questioningly.

Your stomach plunges. You remember Slade's eye, how carefully it inspected the corners of the room, how it would wander to them while you were… The prickling in your mind told you something was wrong. You set your notes down to the side and begin to move March but she yawns contentedly on your lap so you let her be. You drag your laptop closer to you, arching your back carefully so as not to move March. The scratching in the back of your mind definitely has something to do with the Thorn. Who knows maybe it was something relevant to the case this whole time? The dread rising in your stomach says otherwise.

Then there it was. Of course, it was in the fucking fine print.

High ranking clientele have 1 week to accept or decline the option to keep their private room videos private.

You swore viciously, putting your face in your hands. Your blood rushes to your ears. Of course, they would have cameras! You groan curling in on yourself. March bristles and shifts trying to pry your body open but you can’t make yourself budge not when you just want to implode. March, having given up on your sorry ass, squeezes her way out of your hold and hisses at you as if to tell you off.

“Yes, March. I know. I know. Oh my god- Shit, I know.”

Her judging gaze did not waver even as she flicked her tail at your papers. You look at her pleadingly but she does not relent and even turns away from you. God, even your cat thinks you’re an absolute dumbass. Did Sita know? Did Nina? Did Anthony? Sita, probably not. She wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that. Ok, she would but not this badly. Nina, yeah probably. Anthony, definitely. But those two probably thought you were ok with it. This was such an amateur move.

You bite your lip and drum your fingers against the keyboard staring at the clock on the corner of your screen. Your eyes flick to your eyes to your notes and the grumpy cat making a nest out of your papers. There wasn’t much you could do with the case right now, not until Sasha made good on her end of the bargain. That would likely not be for a few hours and …

You didn’t exactly trust Slade to keep this between the two of you. Besides, shit like this? Shit like this had a bad habit of leaking to other sites and whatever weight you pulled in the force would vanish in an instant. You ruffle your hair in frustration. Of all the mistakes you could make, why him?

“Such a good cockslut.”

You bury your face in your arms as the heat creeps up to your ears. Out of habit, you put some pressure on the back of your neck but instead of quieting your mind, it slung your mind back to when Slade’s hand wrapped around your neck. You could still feel his calloused fingers grazing your sensitive skin, his breath fanning against your shoulder. How the hell were you supposed to fight him when the mere thought of him made you so flustered?! You were a goddamn professional! You want to scream or to be swallowed by the floor or both. Both sounds better.

You sigh, exasperation bleeding through the sound. You don’t regret it. Not really. You just wished this wouldn’t end up being career suicide. Sadly, you weren’t lucky. March’s tail flicked angrily at the thought. You say a nasally apology. She, appropriately enough, does not accept your apology.

You look at your phone. 1 AM. The thorn should be busy right now, meaning the guards should have their hands full. You could definitely- Fuck it. You need to delete that thing.

You spring out of your bed, launching yourself out the door not bothering to change out of your pajamas aside from throwing on a jacket and a pair of tennis shoes. It would be a quick in and out job if you did it correctly.

“See ya, March! Don’t wait up!” you call out from the door, waving your jingling keys. The sound makes March stir but she doesn’t look at you. You snort but the fondness in your features wins over the anxiety and the annoyance.

“March?” Anthony’s voice rises above the echo of sensual music coming from the main room. You freeze, the movements of your limbs stuttering along with your heartbeat. “Uh hey,” you answer, voice infinitely more stilted than you were envisioning.

In the low light, you can see Anthony tilting his head, a wrinkle of concern marring his perfect brow. “I thought you were supposed to be off for a day or two since-” his statement falters when his eyes flicker to the hickeys dotting your skin. You fight down the urge to zip up your hoodie. “-since Mr. Wilson likes to play rough.” Anthony continues both from not really being able to stop the words and the need to get more information out of you.

You smile easily. For once, you’re thankful for the low lighting of the club. The corners of your lips twitch unconvincingly. “I- Mr. Wilson called me about an hour ago and told me to meet him here- same room- He said something about an offer and considering the tip he gave me… I found it hard to turn down.” You lie, shrugging your shoulders casually and giving him a look roughly translating to ‘eh what can ya do’. You will your muscles not to wince or fidget. Maybe your lie would be convincing enough.

Finally, after a long pause, Anthony gives you a knowing look and says “Well, don’t let him work you too hard.” You give Anthony a wry smile unsure what to say. “I won’t. Promise.”

You wait for Anthony to disappear before letting your shoulders roll into a slump. You wonder if he’s ever…

You shake your head. That wasn’t your business but that doesn’t stop your mind from wandering.

The security guard in charge of the monitors was almost insultingly easy to take out. Given, he had his hand crammed down his pants and he wasn’t exactly paying attention to the surroundings. Then again, could you really blame him when part of his job is just watching porn?

You drag his unconscious body to the closet, jamming the door with the guard’s chair. You would think this place could afford a rolly chair. Nope. You suppose they had to cut corners somewhere. They probably should have cut it at the cameras but then again you weren’t the one running the joint.

Just as with the guard, getting into the system was fairly easy. The universe may be telling you something. It likely was but you ignored it in favor of the screen lighting up with dozens of thumbnails of naked men and women. You fight down the spike of embarrassment that rises in your chest. The idea that one of these guards watched you as you… It was mortifying but something in your stomach stirred. It was a mix of humiliation and something unexpectedly warm. You shake your head doing your best to ignore the feeling bubbling in your stomach.

Underneath each thumbnail was what you assumed to be the client’s initials and what looked to be the dates of each video. Well, they’re horny but organized which really helps you. You type in ‘S.W.’ just to shorten your agony.

The screen flickers again and when it lights up with another set of thumbnails, your mouth dries and the blood rushes to your face and to your groin. You bite out a curse for letting your eyes wander to the images. The first one your eyes land on has his back facing the camera in all his naked glory. You scan the image, eyes tracing over the scars littered all over his body and the rippling back muscles you could only see through his shirt. You groan in frustration. You can feel yourself growing wetter. Because of course, you didn’t account for your body’s reaction to him factoring into the speed of your work. You slip up and play one of the videos, the vulgar sounds permeating the room and reverberating in your bones. You scramble to pause the video. A part of you is hesitant to. The better, more logical part of you wins out. It was either propriety or jealousy that won out. Either way, you weren’t eager to investigate, not when the aching between your legs made itself so pronounced. You swear but it came out more whiny and breathless. You tighten your grip on the desk and the mouse. You had to find this thing before you turn into a runny mess on the floor.

“If you wanted a copy, Kitten, you could have just asked,” a gravelly voice drawls into your ear. You attempt to twist, your body brushing up against something solid. Strong arms and a toned body cages you against the desk. The man certainly knows how to use his large build to his advantage. You twist and wriggle, a mix of irritation and panic traveling up your spine. Behind you, Slade groans as your ass brushes against his growing bulge. You freeze. Heat creeps up your face and a swelling pool of warmth in your groin makes itself known. The close proximity makes your hackles draw up with all the force of the ‘fuck you’ you felt but you reign it in along with the shiver suffusing through your frame.

You take a steadying breath. “How the hell did you know I was here?” you snarl, voice caustic. Unaffected and more amused than anything, Slade leans in closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck. You shiver. Your nose is overpowered by the mix of musk and gin permeating off of him. The scent was delightfully potent making you squirm in discomfort.

Slade kisses up your neck, taking his time answering. His teeth catch at your skin once or twice making you gasp. This feels so good. The thrum under your skin worsens. Your mind was starting to become fuzzy with anticipation. This man was definitely trying to kill you.

“Anthony told me,” Slade says in between kisses, and the anger that statement should have drawn out of you was nowhere to be seen. “He told me that you were waiting for me in my usual room. Imagine my surprise when you were nowhere to be seen.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Let’s see what you’ve been looking at, Sweetheart,” Slade murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing against your jaw as he maneuvers the mouse away from you. A large hand settles on your hip, calloused fingers toying with the top of your shorts as his thumb traces circles against your bare skin. You whine and lean into his touch not even minding the obvious distraction.

You feel him smile against your skin as he reads through the dates on screen. You know he could just zip through these dates, his meta powers enhancing the rate at which his mind processes things. You know he’s only slowing down to make sure you see the sheer volume of videos he has. Your mind tries desperately to shrink away, to carve out some sort of irritation or maybe even disgust but all you could feel was a rampant tinge of jealousy and you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it.

The obscene sound of your desperate moans fills the room, making you flush with embarrassment. On the screen, you watch as your fingers dip in and out of your core. The slick sounds blaring from the speaker make you drip and clench together but you do not look away. Your eyes are fixed on your trembling limbs and your gasping, kiss-bitten lips. You can feel it even now, the way your body greedily soaked up the sinful atmosphere. Your body aches from the memory.

You yelp when Slade’s fingers slip past the waistband of your shorts. You buck against his touch, letting his calloused fingers brush up against the bare lips of your pussy. “You making a habit out of not wearing underwear around me?” Slade teases bringing you out of your haze only through the need to defend your last bit of dignity but whatever sharp or witty comeback you have dies on your lips when he curls his fingers inside you. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

So much for your dignity.

Your hips rock against his hand, doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers and brushing against his bulge. Sure, you were horny as all hell but that didn’t mean you weren’t still the pettiest little shit in existence. You close your eyes and look away from the screen trying to concentrate on the feeling of his hands inside you. But you can’t deny how the sounds from the video made this way hotter than it already was. Gripping your neck with his hand, Slade forces you to look back at the screen.

You open your eyes and see yourself bouncing desperately on Slade’s engorged cock. You groan, pussy clenching on his thick digits.

“Such a good cockslut, look at how well that tight cunt of yours is taking me in.”

Shame ravages your entire body as you hear yourself pant and whine at the statement. You recoil looking away wanting nothing more than to dissolve into seafoam at the moment. You don’t get to revel in your shame when the hand on your neck shifts and is pushing you down and closer to the screen. “Didn’t I tell you to keep watching, Kitten?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, mouth pressed against the meat of your arm. You try to concentrate on the video- the needy little noises you try to bite back, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the wet squelching noises as his cock drills into you. You really do.

You hear the click of the mouse. Your eyes watch as another video loads. On the screen, Slade rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, showing off his powerful forearms. There is a woman on the bed blindfolded, obediently keeping her arms in place as Slade binds her limbs to the bedposts with silk ribbons. Her parted legs show off the slick between her thighs flowing down to the sheets. Wordlessly, Slade drags a riding crop against her sensitive hole. You groan almost loud enough to snuff out her cries for him. A prickle of jealousy tugging at you makes you go rigid under his touch.

“Jealous, kitten?” he whispers, hand sliding into your shirt, large hand grasping the soft round flesh of your breast. You shuffle trying to kick him but stop when you feel him roll your nipples between his fingers. In the reflection on the screen, you can see him leering at your face twisting in reluctant pleasure. You can feel it against your ear. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of ideas for a good little slut like you.” You hear another click.

In the next video, the first thing that registers is a high keen, a mangled version of Slade’s name, accompanied by a low buzz. In the corner of the screen, Slade’s toying with a remote, flicking the slider up and down with no real thought behind it. The woman whines, a frustrated sound, and you can understand the frustration as you grind your barely clothed pussy against the swell of Slade’s cock.

“Sir, please- Ah!”

“Please, what, sweetheart?” he coos, turning the vibrator inside her back down to the lowest setting.

“Plea-” her plea is cut off by Slade flicking it back up to the highest setting then back down. You make a strangled noise of frustration at both the Slade behind you and the one on screen.

“Sir, please. Your cock. I need it. Please fill me up.” Tears are streaming down her face. Slade uncrosses his legs and stands up, smiling like he’s just been served something particularly delectable. “Such a good slut,” he purrs, turning the power back up to the highest setting.

The camera angle changes. You watch as Slade’s engorged cock sinks into her fold, vibrator still buzzing inside her. “You think you can take something like that? Can your tight little cunt of yours take that much?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer, rolling your ass against him. He grunts and you grin into your arm. “This tight little cunt can take your large cock,” mouth shaping itself, showing off your pretty lips, “and whatever else you can give me” you say, voice breathy but even. You inject all the cocksure you can into the words trying to sound more challenging rather than pleading. Slade chuckles into your flesh. “We’ll see, kitten.”

Slade clicks on another video. The camera trails over the swell of a woman’s ass down to her sopping core. Her face is pressed against the leather cushions of her couch while her limbs are locked to a spreader bar leaving her open and helpless to Slade’s ministrations. Slade, in all his naked glory, pumps his leaking cock lining it up against her greedy hole. She’s shaking and whimpering, trying to push her ass flush against him but his bruising grip keeps her in place. She cries out and your walls clench on nothing when Slade plunges his cock roughly into her folds. You whimper and buck against him, mimicking the way her ass bounces against his hips. The movement draws out a sharp ‘fuck’ from Slade’s clenched teeth. His thumbs press into the dimples of your back as he pins your hips to the table.

“Do you want me to fuck you like I fucked her?” he asks, threading his hand through your hair and yanking you up to his chest. You gasp, the pain making your blood sing. “Do you want that, kitten?” You nod. “Take off your shirt.” Slade pulls himself back, still pinning your hips against the table with his. You shimmy out of your shirt and jacket eyes glued to the screen. You want him. You can feel how much he wants you too from the possessive way he cages you into the way his fingers curl inside you. They’re crooked just the right way to let you fuck yourself at just the right angle but it’s not enough. They fill you but it’s not the burning stretch you crave. You watch as he fucks into her relentlessly, jealousy boiling over in your veins as her eyes roll into the back of her head, completely and utterly lost in the pleasure. “Maybe we’ll try one of those on you next time,” he whispers, pulling down your shorts and letting them fall to your ankles. Once again, your body bends over, presenting your bare ass to him. This time willingly as if to ask him to just fuck you however he wants.

"Tell me what you want," Slade licks a stripe up your spine, tasting sweat and desperation on your flesh and stopping at the back of your neck. You can feel him nip at your flesh. "What do you want me to do?"

All of that, you thought greedily. I want you to fuck me, use me, make me cum over and over. I don’t care how you use me.

"Would you rather I tell you what I want to do to you, kitten?" The hand shoved between legs is rubbing shallow circles on your clit. The motion easily cuts off whatever coherent reply was resting on your lips. You bow your sweat-drenched back into his chest. The hairs on his chest prickle your back. “I’ll tell you exactly how I intend to use a pretty little slut like you.” He grabs your neck, giving it a light but firm squeeze, his thumb brushing against your pulse. “I’m going to have you gagging around my cock as fuck your throat raw,” he growls. It sounds like a threat but it sends shivers up your spine. “Don’t worry, kitten, I won’t come down your throat. You know me better than that. I’d rather give you a string of pearls to decorate your wonderful breasts,” he says squeezing one roughly in his large hand. Your tongue lolls out thinking of just how much you want this. Slade brings down his palm against your ass; the same broad palm kneads your flesh feeling the familiar heat emanate from the red blooming on your skin. “Then I’ll fuck that tight little ass of yours.” You gasp as he enters your pussy in one swift thrust. The rhythm of his thrusts mimics the one on the screen, slowing down when he feels your insides strangling his cock. He whispers every filthy promise you don’t even dare dream of.

“Do you want to cum?”

“Yeees,” you sigh into your arms. “Please.”

“Ask nicely.” You’re going to kill him.

“Please, Slade. I-”

“Oh errr-” You freeze. You turn your head to look over your shoulder. You make a horrified bleat when you see one of the security guards standing meekly at the door. He doesn’t bother to hide how blatantly he’s watching as Slade continues to fuck into you drawing little sighs and gasps out of you. Your walls flutter around Slade, sweet and tight drawing a growl out of him. Slade looks over his shoulder as if he’d just noticed your audience. “Patrick, do you think you could give us a few minutes?” Slade grunts slowing his movements. Patrick seemingly surfaces from his slack-jawed haze. “Yes, of course, Mr. Wilson! Right away.” He scampers off shutting the door in a violent haste.

“You know him?” you gasp, twisting your body to scowl at him. His pace slows even more as he pretends to thin his answer over. “He’s caught me a few times,” he says offhandedly. You have no idea why this surprises you. “You’re not the first slut I’ve fucked over this desk.” You shiver as Slade pushes you back down onto the table, keeping you still with a hand around your throat. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he teases, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’d want me to fuck that tight little cunt while he watches.” The hot breath fanning against your skin draws a shiver from you.

“What do you think, kitten?” he asks, nipping at your ear. “Don’t worry he won’t mind. No one would mind watching that cute little ass of yours.” You whine in a half-hearted protest. It’s loud and you think you’ll get caught again. Slade seems to think so too as he instructs you to open your mouth. Your skin feels too hot and your mind is hazy so you obey fully expecting to press his fingers into your mouth. Instead, he stuffs a lacy piece of cloth into your mouth. You make the mistake of flicking your eyes back to the screen to investigate. In your mouth was your lacy underwear from the other night and on the screen was...

There he sits with the ease of a hedonistic king while one woman sucks on his cock, tears pricking the edges of her eyes, and the other riding his fingers chasing her own high as he devours her mouth. The satisfaction of your jealousy heats Slade’s veins. “Sometimes double is better, don’t you agree, kitten.” You make a dissenting whine cresting over your lips. “Don’t worry we’ll let you try it at some point.”

“Men would pay good money to watch you like that-” Slade tilts your chin, squeezing your chin and forcing you to look at the screen as Slade fucks the woman's throat raw. “or like this-” Slade’s cock plunges into you, deep and filling and hitting all the right spots. Your nails drag against the desk feeling your insides clench around him. He leans into your ear, voice a husky whisper. “They’d pay even better money to have their cocks where mine is-” thrust “-right-” thrust ”-now.” You whimper around the cloth in your mouth. You tighten around him at the thought of other people vying for your attention and Slade claiming you as his while they looked on with jealousy. Slade barks out a laugh, gripping hard above the arches of your hips to bounce you back on his cock. You’re so close. You’re going to cum. You cum with a shrill cry. Slade fucks you relentlessly through your orgasm, grunting loudly against your ear.

He takes his cock out of you. You feel something warm spill all over your ass. It’s sticky and hot and you don’t need to look to know what it was.

He takes your panties out of your mouth. Your breath, greedily sucking in air but it turns into a gasp when you feel the lacy cloth rubbing against your oversensitive skin.“Gotta keep this place clean, kitten- This is a high-class establishment after all.” You don’t protest as he tosses your cum covered panties into your pile of clothes. You simply press your body against the cool surface of the table and let out a tired little sigh.

“Feel free to delete the videos if you want. I already have my own copy,” he says casually waving a USB stick as he walks towards the door. “As I said before, just tell me if you want a copy. I’ll happily give you a copy… for a favor.”

“Fuck you.”

“Anytime, kitten.”

You hear the door close. You’re going to have to work to get your clothes back on. Your limbs feel like noodles but first, you click on your video and delete them. You saw several people on the members' list you want nowhere near you or your videos. Your skin heats again at the thought of those people bidding just to- You push it out of your mind and hit the delete button.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Bonus:

Slade brings his phone up to his ear after typing in a familiar set of digits. “How did you like it?”

“Wilson, you’ve got her trained well,” Roman’s gravelly voice, says roughly strained from arousal as he replays some highlights.

“Indeed, I do.”

“How much?”

Slade hums, taking his time to answer. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“You would be surprised.”

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

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list: @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage , @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#slade wilson smut #slade wilson imagine #slade wilson x reader #deathstroke x reader #deathstroke #slade wilson

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 15 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: What happens when a rider from Alexandria arrives with news from home? How does the reader react and what does Daryl think of it all. Then, when Alpha arrives at the gates, how will the group react when they discover that their enemy is much larger than they thought.

Word Count: 4827

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Start A War” by Klergy and Valerie Broussard

Note: Enter Alpha. I promise there will be a reunion in the next part, but whether it will be a nice one...i don’t know. Set during episode 9x11 ″Bounty”.

----------

The next time the doors opened at Hilltop, you expected to see Alden and Luke, but instead, you saw Scott entering on a horse with a concerned look on his face.

You were sitting with Daryl on a table a bit separate from the other residents of Hilltop, trying to brainstorm about what you were going to do with Lydia.

"What's he doin' here?" Daryl asked, nodding his head towards Scott who was dismounting his horse.

"I don't know..." you said, just as confused. Tara was the one to meet him, gripping his hand tight. After sharing a quick hug, she pointed over at you and Daryl. Scott’s eyes found yours and he gave you a tight-lipped smile. You didn’t like the look of that. Scott squeezed her shoulder before heading your way. Something told you that he wasn't there for a friendly catch up with distant friends. As he approached, he almost looked worried, you really didn't like that.

"Hey," he said and Daryl reached out to grip his hand in a friendly gesture. The two men smiled at each other, but then Scott looked at you and a coldness settled over you.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "Is Michonne okay?" The last thing any of you needed was to be ambushed on the road by Lydia's mother and the rest of her so-called family.

"Michonne is fine," Scott assured you. "I was on my way here when I ran into them. They caught me up to speed on what happened. I'm on my way to Oceanside to inform Cyndie, and Michonne is going to send a rider to Kingdom. I'm so sorry about Jesus." You nodded, appreciating his condolences, but you knew there was more.

"Why were you on your way here? What happened at home?" you asked and Scott then began to wring his hands, something he always did when he was nervous. “Scott, tell me.”

"He got out," Scott said, “Negan, Negan got out of his cell.” And with those words, your world was pulled out from beneath you.

"What?" you asked, not quite registering what he was saying.

"The door to his cell was left unlocked and he escaped," he explained and you immediately went to defend yourself, but Scott was ahead of you. "We know it wasn't you, (Y/N). Gabriel was the last one to see him." Scott said, but Daryl was visibly confused. You, however, couldn't keep a single thought in your head before it went away and was replaced by another.

A feeling of almost betrayal washed over you and you nearly felt sick. You shoved it down before you could start tearing up, but it was almost too much.

Negan had walked out on you.

"Where's that son of a bitch now?" Daryl asked, bringing you back into your body.

"That's the weird thing," Scott said. “He came back." Your eyes shot back to his in shock.

"Excuse me?" you asked. Scott was chuckling under his breath.

"Yeah, confused the hell out of us, too. Just walked back in with Judith and said nothing as she took him back to the cell."

"What game is he playin'?" Daryl asked, but you couldn't, wouldn't, hear the answer. You got up from the table slowly.

"(Y/N)," Scott said, reaching for you. He was one of the people who had really seen the way you were with Negan and so he knew what this news would mean to you. "He's back now,” Scott assured you, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Does that matter?” you shot back. “He still left in the first place, didn’t he?

“I know, but something tells me he wasn’t planning to stay gone long.”

“So, what? He just decided to go for a stroll? Does anyone even know where the hell he went or even how he got over the damn wall? The armory was locked too so he couldn’t have gotten weapons. Unless he was in my house which means I will be killing him as I have told him many times not to touch my damn knives. Then again, he’s very resourceful and smart, but he hasn’t had to kill Walkers in a while. I mean, not since the night when the tree came down. I don’t understand why he would even—”

“(Y/N)!” Scott said as he grabbed you by your shoulders and you jolted in his grip. “Calm down,” he said softly. Scott was looking down at you with understanding in his eyes and it was making you even angrier. You knew that you were rambling, it was something you did when you got overwhelmed.

Negan always said that when you did it, it was as if you were on fast forward.

"I need to not be here," you choked out as your heart felt like it was pressing against your ribs. You ignored their calls as you walked away. You didn’t have a destination in mind, but you needed to be alone.

You found yourself at the stables and jogged up the steps and into the loft. Hay was piled up in the corner as you collapsed against it, bringing your knees up to your chest. You didn’t fight the tears this time. They dripped down your cheeks and onto the damp floor.

You knew he was back. Negan was back home and probably waiting for you, but he had still left. What hurt the most wasn’t the fact that he decided to finally break out, but because you thought that what the two of you had was enough. You knew that he hated being in that cell, but you were going to try to do something about that. There also wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about leaving that door open in hopes that he would be free too, but you also knew that there were too many factors. Michonne would never let him be free and if Maggie had ever found out, Negan would be hunted.

“Foolish,” you whispered to yourself, scrubbing at your face. After everything you had lost, you thought at least that Negan was your new constant, but now? Now there was that level of uncertainty that just broke your heart.

“(Y/N)?” Daryl asked as he came up the stairs. You hastily wiped your face as he appeared around the corner.

“Go away,” you said, not looking at him.

“Not happenin’,” he said as he took a seat across from you. “Will ya look at me?” he asked and you were still for just a moment before finally turning your eyes back to his. He noticed the expression on your face immediately. “What’s goin’ on? And tell me the truth, no more of this ‘later’ shit.”

“I can’t do this right now,” you said and you were starting to hate the phrase.

“Well, yer gonna,” Daryl shot back. “Since when do ya lie to me?”

“Since when do you care?” you returned with just as much venom,

“Hey,” he said shortly.

“You’ve been gone, Daryl,” you said. “You don’t just get to jump back into my life like this and start demanding things. That’s not how this works.” He narrowed his eyes at you before relaxing into the hay at his back.

“You’re right,” he said. “I have been gone. I left ya, but I can still read ya like a damn book. So, why has this news about Negan got you all upset? Did he do somethin’ to ya? Did he hurt ya?”

“What? No!” you said, trying to diffuse his temper. “Nothin’ like that.”

“Then tell me,” he pleaded. You were trying to force the words out and you knew you had to tell him something. Jesus had been understanding, but this was Daryl and while he could always read you, sometimes he was impossible.

“We’ve grown closer,” you finally admitted. “Michonne and Gabriel asked me to speak with him. To make sure that he was still all there in his mind. Whether they had some kind of ulterior motive, I don’t know, but that’s how it started.”

“That’s how what started?” Daryl asked and you could hear some anger in his voice, but he was trying to remain calm for your sake.

“Do I really have to explain it?” you challenged.

“Maybe it’ll seem less insane if ya do,” Daryl said and you sighed.

“I care about him, alright? I fucking care about Negan and he cares about me. I have feelings for the man. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Daryl was frozen as he stared at you. You cautiously looked at the blades in his belt, taking note that he hadn’t grabbed them yet. That seemed to be a good sign.

“How did this happen?” Daryl simply said. Surprised that he didn’t immediately lash out, you began to tell him that had happened over the past couple of months. You poured your heart out to him and it felt...freeing. Daryl was quiet as you spoke, even moving over to your side so you could lean against him as you explained.

He didn’t interrupt and he didn’t leave.

He was patient as you told him about everything that had grown between you and Negan. When you mentioned the night when Negan saved Judith, Daryl began to chew on his thumbnail which you knew he only did when he was either nervous or thinking.

“He promised me that he would be waiting for when I got back,” you finished, your head on his shoulder.

“He is,” Daryl pointed out softly.

“Only after he realized he wouldn’t last more than a day outside our walls,” you scoffed.

“How do ya know that?” Daryl asked. “Ya don’t know why he went back, do ya?” You froze and then sat up in confusion. Daryl was looking at you with a stoic expression. “What?”

“Are you defending him?” you asked, surprised. Daryl sighed.

“Nah, I hate the guy. You and Judith may be the only ones who don’t,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I want ya to be hurt over somethin’ stupid the asshole did, (Y/N). There’s a lot we ain’t know about him. Sometimes I thought he was gonna off himself just for the fun of it. If you’ve been able to get inside that thick skull and ya found somethin’ worth carin’ about, that’s yer business.” You gaped at him.

“Who are you and what have you done with Daryl Dixon?”

“Shut up,” Daryl scoffed.

“I mean it, what the hell? I have been terrified to come and see you because I thought you’d shoot me for even lookin’ at him for more than three seconds.”

“I’d never shoot ya,” Daryl said.

“You’d shoot him,” you pointed out.

“Probably,” he admitted, “but I haven’t seen the son of a bitch since his ass got thrown in there. Yer a grown-ass adult, ya don’t need some kind of blessin’ from any of us. Ya wanna be with him, be with him, but it better be for the right reason. Not just cause ya wanna fix him.”

You were honestly in shock at his words. Perhaps both you and Negan had been too quick to jump the gun on what people would think.

Then again, maybe Daryl was just trying not to set you off again.

“Jesus said something similar to me earlier about nobody really knowing Negan beside what he let us see,” you said quietly.

“Jesus knew?” Daryl asked.

“I told him when we were looking for Eugene. I guess you and Jesus do know me better than I thought,” you said and then pause. “Knew,” you corrected.

“He wouldn’t want ya to be sitting here like this,” Daryl said and then his hand drifted to your side where Paul’s sword rested. “M’glad Aaron gave you that.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Cause, Jesus knew the kind of person ya are. He recognized the warrior behind everything,” Daryl said. “He was a crazy son of a bitch, but when it came to readin’ people’s character, he was never wrong.”

“Thanks, D,” you said, grabbing his hand and gripping it tightly.

“Look, I ain’t gonna pretend to understand what yer doin’ with Negan,” he explained, “but I just hope ya don’t forget who he was even if he’s different now.” You nodded, taking his words to heart. You would never forget the monster behind the man. Just as you would never forget who Daryl or Michonne were when you met them. Hell, even your own past haunted you.

“I haven’t forgotten and I won’t, but I am not going to condemn him forever. If we did that, half the people in our lives wouldn’t be here,” you said.

“Ya talkin’ about Carol?” he asked with amusement in his eyes.

“You said it, not me,” you said with a jab to his shoulder. “No matter what we’ve done in the past and shit, I know we’ve done a lot, I just don’t want to use that as a death sentence. I think we’re better than that. We have to be.” Daryl looked thoughtful for a moment before sighing.

“Fine, I’ll go along with it for now,” he said, “but if he hurts ya and I mean, really hurts ya, I’ll kill him.”

“I’ll let you know if it ever comes to that,” you said and he smiled softly at you. You then reached over and kissed the top of his head while messing his hair. “Thank you.”

“Just stop keepin’ things from me. We’ve been through too much shit together for that to happen.”

“I know and no more secrets. I promise,” you said.

“Good.”

“Now, what are we gonna do about Lydia?” you asked, trying to divert the conversation.

“I don’t know. I don’t like that she and Henry seem to be bonding. I don’t trust her,” Daryl admitted.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to,” you said. Nothing about Lydia screamed trusting. However, after sleeping on it, you began to think that perhaps she was just what you had initially thought: a kid. While you still wanted to smack her at times, you were finally realizing that you have been too quick to judge.

“Come talk to her with me?” he asked and you took the hand he offered as he hauled you up to your feet.

----------

When you went to speak to the girl, hearing about the horror that was her mother was not what you expected.

After Daryl had yelled at him about him telling Lydia about the Kingdom, Henry had convinced him to listen to Lydia and what she had been telling him before you and Daryl had barged in. Daryl had offered her medicine and after asking about Alden and Luke, he began asking her questions.

You sat quietly next to him as they spoke. Lydia talked about what their life was like at the beginning of the end. The way she spoke about her mother sent chills down your spine. You knew about screwed up parents, as did Daryl, but this was a whole new level of crazy.

Although, hearing her talk about her father was when you finally saw the kid behind the killer. Though, you still weren’t sure that Lydia was even a killer after all. Even so, you could tell by just the way Lydia recounted the events of her father’s death that he had been the abusive one first. Although, that didn’t make up for the fact that her mother was beating her now.

You noticed the bruises before Daryl did and when you nodded towards them, that was when he went into protector mode. You knew that he still didn’t like her, but you knew that Daryl stood by the same code you and Negan did.

You don’t hurt kids.

“This place isn't real,” Lydia said as Daryl tried to convince her that Hilltop was safe. “The world changed, and you're all acting like it's gonna change back. My mom walks 'cause that's what the dead do. It's their world, and we have to live in it. And what my mom does, she does for a reason.” You shook your head at how much of an apologist Lydia had become for her abusive mother.

“Your mom beats you because she loves you? That's bullshit,” you said, not believing it for a second.

“No, it isn't. When you stay soft, people die,” Lydia argued.

“There’s a difference,” you said.

“Is there? Is that what you see when you look at yourself? I can see it in your eyes,” Lydia said. “You’re a killer. You may not know it, but one day you will be. You told me that you knew how monsters think,” Lydia leaned in towards the bars, “ever wonder why that is?”

You stood from your seat, ignoring Daryl’s look as you stormed out of the cell. You didn’t need to hear that bullshit. You knew you were harder, colder these days, but you were not a monster. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself.

Daryl soon followed you out of the cellar. “What was that all about?” he asked.

“Apparently Lydia pays more attention to what I say than I first thought.”

“Ya threatened her, didn’t ya?” he asked and you rolled your eyes.

“And you didn’t?” you countered.

“We both know that our versions of threats are very different. I use blades, you use....psychological warfare,” he said with a look.

“It works, doesn’t it?” you challenged and now it was his turn to roll his eyes. You were about to suck it up and go back into the cellar when Tara yelled for Daryl.

You and Daryl both looked at her in alarm as she waved you up to the watchpoint where she was standing with Magna. The two of you ran towards her, hauling yourselves up the rungs of the ladder.

When you got to the top, you finally saw what had gotten Tara so worried. Standing at the gates were members of Lydia’s family and in the lead was a woman who you immediately knew was Lydia’s mother.

“She calls herself ‘Alpha’,” Magna whispered to you as Daryl stared down the woman, your hand was resting on your sword.

“I show you my face because we mean you no harm. I just want my daughter. I know you have her,” Alpha said to Tara who didn’t take her eyes off of her enemy.

“You should turn around,” Tara warned. “Leave now and no one gets hurt.”

“Wrong answer!” bellowed Alpha as more masks came out of the trees and approached. Kelly, who was next to you was shaking.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Connie is in the field,” she whispered. Your eyes instantly searched for her sister and fear settled in your stomach.

“They don't see her. Least not yet,” you assured Kelly as you gripped her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

“That girl told me what her mom does to her. We ain't sending her back to that,” Daryl added as Enid arrived on the platform, and in her hands was Daryl’s crossbow. She gave it to him and he instantly loaded it.

“Yeah, but what if she has Alden and Luke? Pissing her off can get them killed,” Enid added as she moved to your side. “They killed Jesus, Tara.”

“I know,” Tara whispered and then turned to speak to Alpha again. “Did you kill our friends? We found their horses.”

“No,” Alpha said. “Which one of you leads these people?”

“The hell does that matter?” challenged Daryl.

“Then I'll just address all of you. Your people crossed into our land. There will be no conflict. Your people killed our people. There will be no conflict. I'm done talkin'. Bring me my daughter, or there will be conflict,” she threatened and you decided then that if it came down to it, you would gladly kill this woman.

“No one touches the girl,” Daryl said. “The last thing I am doin’ is sending her back to that. No matter who she is.”

“I agree,” Enid said. Daryl then turned to you and held out his bow. You raised a brow as you took it.

“What do you want me to do with this?” you asked.

“I’m gonna go talk to her, but I need eyes up top. You’re a sniper, (Y/N),” he reminded you, “be a sniper.” You gripped the crossbow tighter as he began to climb down the ladder. Enid gave you an encouraging smile, but you were feeling nervous already.

You moved on autopilot, going to kneel down next to Kelly and open the small window Diane had cut out for her bow. It was the perfect size to stay somewhat hidden and defended. You were decent with the crossbow, but you desperately wished for a rifle.

“You can do this,” Enid said as she stood behind you with the binoculars, keeping an eye on the surroundings as you trained the sight on Alpha. You didn’t know if you could make a kill shot from that distance, but you could surely injure her if you needed to. That offered you some comfort.

As you crouched, your mind drifted back home to Negan. You needed him right now as much as you were pissed at him. He could always keep you calm and you hadn’t had to slip into the sniper role since the end of the war with his people. Having a long-distance weapon in your hands felt too foreign. You took a deep breath and tried to focus.

You watched as Daryl approached the gate and you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but you knew Daryl was not going to back down. He had faced down enemies before and won. Although, you knew that these masked enemies were more terrifying than anything you had faced.

“They’re just people,” Yumiko said who had come up behind Magna.

“Psychotic people,” Magna added. Suddenly, the sharp cries of a baby echoed across the field.

“What the hell?” Enid asked, her eyes glued to the mask that was holding the struggling infant. Daryl must have said something then because two more of Alpha’s people came forward as they dragged two more. When they pulled the masks from their captives, Enid gasped.

It was Alden and Luke.

Your finger twitched on the trigger of the crossbow. These people had already taken one of your people and now they held two more at knifepoint without hesitation. You were seeing red and just for a second, you nearly squeezed and took her out. You wanted her to burn and you wanted her to suffer, but a voice in your head made you pause.

Negan had once told you, “I think we both know that you are the lesser of two evils in this situation.” You held onto that as your hand relaxed. Nobody knew what exactly these people were capable of let alone what their true numbers were.

“Steady,” you said to yourself as you breathed evenly. You nearly yelled, however, when the mask with the child, placed it on the ground and walked away as Walkers approached. “No,” you said, staring at the baby with horrified eyes.

The Dead were beginning to stumble towards the baby and you trained the bow on them, ready to take your shot when suddenly, Connie burst from the field. Kelly jumped as her sister fought her way towards the baby. It was then that you realized Daryl was gone. You could hear him below giving out orders, but you didn’t move. You weren’t going to give Alpha a single chance to make a move without you knowing.

Although, your focus was cut short when you heard a quick whistle behind you. Turning, you saw Daryl who was looking up at you with a pissed expression. He then shook his head and you knew what had happened. Lydia was gone.

“Shit,” you swore.

“What is it?” Enid asked.

“The kid is gone.” Enid was quiet for a moment before she shook her head.

“I think I know where they went,” she said as she headed for the ladder. “Don’t take your eyes off of her.” You nodded as she disappeared off the platform. This was either going to go very well or end in a fight and you didn’t know which one you’d rather prefer.

---------

You didn’t know how long it was that you stayed glaring at Lydia’s mother.

There had been so many enemies and battles in the past, but there was something about these masks that felt different. They were ruthless like the cannibals at Terminus but calculated like the Saviors. Alpha reminded you of a wild animal a lot like the Wolves, but with a bigger bite. She also demanded respect like the Governor and you had never wished for Rick more.

Grimes wouldn’t have let her get this far. Not after losing Jesus, not after what happened to Rosita and Eugene. Even with Negan’s new outlook on life, you also knew that he wouldn’t have allowed it either and if it wasn’t for Lydia, Daryl would have taken the shot too. There were too many factors and you didn’t know which one to focus on.

You were beginning to get very nervous. If Lydia wasn’t found soon, you were going to have to watch Alden die and Luke as well who you had begun to like for the short time you had known him. Then there was Connie. You didn’t know where she was or if the baby was safe. You were in your nest alone while your family hunted down a couple of teenagers because you knew that Henry had gone with her. He was incredibly loyal, just like his dad.

Though, you had a feeling that Ezekiel would have a few choice words for his son when it came to who he hung out with. “This was so much easier when he just had a crush on Enid,” you grumbled as noticed more Walkers approaching. Diane who was on the other side of the watch glanced at you with worry, but you signaled for her to be calm.

Walkers were easy as long as you knew that there were in fact Dead. Hilltop had dealt with worse hordes before. Alpha was the problem right now and you weren’t going to give her an inch.

When the gates of Hilltop opened again, you were almost shocked to see that Lydia was walking out with Daryl. Neither of them looked as if they were happy about what was happening, but still, Lydia walked to her mother as Masks shoved Alden and Luke forward.

You could practically see Daryl fuming as Alpha smacked her child and then hauled her away along with the rest of her people. Daryl didn’t move until they were out of sight. As soon as Alpha blended in with the trees, you finally relaxed. Your body was cramped as you lay back on the platform, the crossbow falling to your side.

You could hear the cheerful reunions going on below you and eventually, you pulled yourself up and climbed down to join them. You then spotted Connie who was hugging Kelly and you relaxed a bit more. You found Daryl immediately. You handed him his bow which he slung over his shoulder.

“Thanks for havin’ my back,” he said.

“I get why we had to do it,” you said. “But it doesn't make it okay.”

“I never said it did,” Daryl said and you could tell he was thinking about Lydia.

“I gotta go home, D,” you said and he nodded, expecting this.

“I know,” he said. “I need you there, too. Check on the kids and let Michonne know what’s goin’ on.”

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?” you asked, but you already knew. It was Daryl and he was always going to do the right thing.

“I have to,” he said. With a sigh, you pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tight.

“Get her back and keep yourself alive,” you said and then took a step back. “Also know that if it came down to it, I’ll keep her safe.”

“A day ago you were ready to feed her to Walkers,” he pointed out.

“I’ve learned a lot about anger lately,” you said. “Being blinded by rage never helps.” You gripped his shoulder and turned to go grab your things.

“(Y/N),” Daryl called.

“Yeah?”

“I hope ya know what yer doin’ with him,” Daryl said.

“I’m not sure of anything, but I’m working on it. We can’t lose everyone, Daryl. Go get her and try not to die. I’m not willing to lose another brother.” Daryl nodded, taking your words to heart.

“I’ll see ya soon,” he said. You didn’t answer him as you walked away. War was coming and you knew that to win it, you would need Negan. You just hoped that others would feel the same because if they didn’t, more people were going to die.

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