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tobesobri · 4 years ago

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When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

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𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume—with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he’d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

#sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors #im just glad to have written something tbh #but yeah let me know what you think! and i hope you all have a great halloween and that you're staying safe!#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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radiorenjun · 4 years ago

Text

drama love || qian kun

¤ pairing: qian kun x reader

¤ genre: comedy, slight angst, drama, college!au, drama club!au, president of the drama club!kun x star of the drama club! reader, enemies to lovers-ish, frenemies to lovers, friends to lovers, fashion major! reader, business major!kun, tsundere!kun.

¤ synopsis: You and Kun always have this weird relationship where you’re not necessarily enemies but not exactly friends. Most of the time, you would be seen scolding by Kun for skipping club meetings to hang out with the other seniors despite the fact that you were one of the main lead actresses of the club. And as time goes on, watch as you and your senior’s relationship blossom into something more than a simple friendship between two college students.

¤ warnings: tsundere kun! swearing, probably some innuendos but nothing too bad, kun is a year older than the reader, height discrimination against Ten and Kun (I’m sorry), kun a bit more chaotic here than in real life. Lots and lots of teasing and insults, slight mentions of burdening someone, arguments, genz humor, probably a plot hole or two, bullying kun supremacy

¤ wordcount : 23.5 k words

¤ playlist: double take by dhruv, free love by g, if i could write a bike by chevy, lovely night by ryan gosling and emma stone, kataomoi by aimer

¤ a/n: featuring a few of my moots!

“Oh,Y/n, good to see you here,” your underclassmen greeted with a polite bowl as you shot them a smile.

“Hey Chenle, Furou,” you waved, adjusting the beret on your head as you tugged on the saddle of your back to adjust it on your shoulder. “Y/n, meet Sungchan. He just transferred from the Business Department,” Chenle introduced, putting a hand on the taller boy beside him as Furou let out a soft chuckle. You smiled at the tall boy, looking up at what you assume to be a 180 cm giant standing in front of you. “Wow, you’re pretty tall. You know you could be one of the main leads of the drama club,” you raised your brow with a light laugh, shaking the younger boy’s hand.

“Jisung is almost taller than me,” Sungchan chuckled bashfully, looking down at his feet as he retracted his arm. “Oh hush, you’re still taller than our male lead. He’s literally 170 centimeters, I don’t even know how he’s able to get the part. Curse his pretty privileges,” you grumbled under your breath, remembering how your co-partner on the stage was constantly flirting with his girlfriend during practice instead of actually helping with painting the props like the rest of the club members.

“You also have pretty privileges too, though,” Furou raised her brow, a smile tugging at her lips as you huffed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, honey,” you joked, a sinister smile playing at your lips as you watched a deadpan expression flash over your underclassman’s features. “What are you three up to?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips. “We’re just going to go to a nearby cafe, they say they’re having a huge discount on their infamous cheesecake,” Chenle explained, pointing his thumb behind him as Furou nodded in agreement.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel, so I’m off studying and catching up with my major,” Sungchan informed with a nervous chuckle, a distressed expression making its way onto his face afterwards as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I see. Well, I hope you all have fun,” you chuckled, pulling the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening slightly at the time. “Oh dear God, would you look at the time,” you blurted out loud, a panicked smile forming at your lips.

Furou laughed at the sight of your terrified expression. “I suggest you should really get going, too,” Furou added, stretching her head to look behind you to spot a certain someone. “Yeah, if you don’t hurry, your escort will get here,” Chenle snickered, nudging his girlfriend’s sides as they both shared knowing looks. “Escort?” Sungchan furrowed his brows in confusion, watching you gulp heavily as the two continued to tease and snicker at you mischievously. “Y/n’s pretty notorious for skipping her drama club,” Chenle explained, his sinister grin never leaving his face.

“Therefore, everyday, the club president comes down to pick her up. The drama club escort is pretty scary,” Furou added with a small snort, making you let out a scoff as you crossed your arms against your chest with a roll of your eyes. “I skip club meetings because I love interacting with all my seniors and underclassmen, duh,” you said, lifting your brow as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Sure, whatever you say then, Y/n,” Furou and Chenle nodded with a roll of their eyes.

Now, you would probably imagine said club president would arrive in some sort of carriage. Probably the same pumpkin carriage Cinderella used back in her fairytale story. You would probably expect said escort would at least show up in a white or black suit, a button up shirt and beautiful slicked back hair. You would expect an escort to say ‘my lady’ and gently hold your hand as you step into the carriage and take you away as two horses pull the carriage away to your desired destination.

At least that’s what Sungchan thought.

Of course, it’s not a usual sight to see some random guy sprint down the halls shamelessly yelling your name at the top of his lungs with anger flaring his pupils, his fluffy blond hair thrown back against the wind as he ran as fast as his legs could take him as if he was running for the Olympics. He looked exactly like that running emoji except this guy had blonde hair and was wearing a baggy hoodie over his form, some black jeans and a pair of Nike shoes to accent his whole look.

“Y/N! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT BEING LATE TO THE CLUB MEETINGS?!”

“That’s my signal to leave, I’ll see you guys arou-” before you could sprint the other way or finish your sentence, you felt someone grab the back of your sweater tightly to keep you from going anywhere. “I have been looking for you for the past thirty five minutes! And now you’re going to fucking run away?” Kun gave you a bittersweet smile, his eyes screaming bloody murder as you paused in fear. You gulped, looking back with a nervous toothy smile, giving your senior a small thumbs up.

“Good afternoon, Kun, how may I help you?” you asked in the sweetest voice you could muster, sweat dripping down your forehead as you watched Kun’s stare grow even more murderous with your words. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” Kun said in a genuinely nice tone, turning to your underclassmen with an angelic smile before glaring daggers at you before tugging you back to the direction of the school theater room with all his might. You stumbled over your own feet, gripping the saddle of your bag as Kun continued to practically drag you against the floor to the theater room.

“W-Wait, Kun! I can walk myself,” you grunted, an awkwardly nervous laugh elicited from your lips as you used one hand to grip on your bag and used the other to keep your beret to your head as Kun continued to pull you by the back of your sweater. Kun sighed heavily, grabbing your arms and pulling you up to your feet before turning you around and wrapping his fingers against your shoulder blades and began to push you to the direction he came from. “I swear, one of these days I will fling you to the theater room,” Kun grumbled under his breath as you both walked through the crowded halls filled with eyes boring into the back of your skulls.

“Kinky,” you snickered, waving at the people you recognized as you and Kun speed walked to the theater room together. You felt him squeeze your shoulder as a type of indicator that you should keep your mouth shut before he actually flings you to the sun like a frisbee. “Shut up, you horny creature. I am not going to be provoked by your unholy perverted thoughts. This should be counted as harassment,” he hissed as you finally stopped once you opened the door to the theater room.

“Why do you even skip practice, you’re the main lead for pete's sake,” Kun groaned, releasing his grip from your shoulders to wrap his fingers against your wrist and head to the stage where the rest of the actors had gathered around.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Brooke snickered as Kun let you take a seat right beside her, huffing as you cupped your cheeks in your palms and propped your elbows up on your legs. “Yeah, yeah. Do kiss my ass more, would you, Brooke?” you giggled, shaking your head as Kun started talking about repainting the old props as the paints were chipping off because Angie and Renjun forgot to buy more primer for the last play you had over two weeks ago. “Y/n, please do try to not fuck anything up while we paint,” Kai joked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“It’s in my blood to fuck things up, Kai,” you shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin taking place on your lips. “Where were you off to, though? It took Kun half an hour to find you this time,” Haechan, Kai’s boyfriend, whispered from beside her in curiosity. “That’s like a new record, you had a great hiding place this time,” he gave you a supportive thumbs up, earning a smack from Kai afterwards for tolerating your irresponsible behavior. “The other side of the building,” you grinned, giving the boy an innocent peace sign.

“That’s our lead actress right there,” Brooke shook her head profusely, chuckling softly at you.

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

“Wait, Kun, since you’re in charge of the sets and props. Does that mean you aren’t in the plays?” Shotaro asked, dipping his brush in the can of pain before splattering dots on the surface of the wooden board by brushing his fingers against it to resemble stars. Shotaro was the newest member of the drama club, therefore Kun, being the president of the club, had the responsibility of guiding him a lot on what to do and what not to do. Which was a fairly simple job considering all he had to say was ‘never follow in Y/n or Ten or Kai or Angie’s footsteps and you’ll be just fine.’

Kun hummed, running a hand through his hair as he sat down in front of the younger boy with crossed legs. “I used to be in the plays but I think I like this a bit more,” Kun said with a charming smile, waving the large brush around as he helped Shotaro paint the skies. “I see,” Shotaro nodded in response, flinching when he felt your hand on his shoulder as you came barging in their conversation. “No, no, Shotaro, you got it all wrong,” you shook your head at him, earning a pout from Kun.

“Kun wanted to win the male lead and grow taller to fit the role of the prince of the stage, but alas,” you leaned over to sling your arm over your senior’s shoulders, earning a death glare from said man as he furrowed his brows and frowned at you. “Our Kun here suffered from malnutrition, therefore he stopped growing completely and now he isn’t tall enough to make it to the male lead,” you grinned, over-exaggerating your words just a tad bit as Kun raised the can of paint by the metallic handle. “I am this close to throwing this can of paint at you,” Kun deadpanned.

Shotaro hummed, raising his brow at the two of you. “Isn’t Ten shorter than Kun, though?” Shotaro asked, his eyes wandering to the boy in question who was currently chatting up his girlfriend as they painted over their own set of props. “Yes, thank you! Finally, someone who looks at things through my eyes!” Kun groaned, grabbing Shotaro’s hand and shaking it rather vigorously in his grip. “Shotaro, you are an angel,” he complimented, causing you to frown at this.

“Ah yes, all it takes to get on Kun’s side is to tell him that he’s taller than Mister Chittaphon. Of course,” you huffed, sitting back in between them as you placed your cheek against your fist, looking back down at the prop. “Again, this close to throwing you this can of paint,” Kun repeated with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll sue you, Kun,” you sent him a cheeky grin, patting your senior’s shoulder in mock pity as he rubbed his temples in frustration, causing you and Shotaro to giggle.

You weren’t quite sure if it was obvious, but you’ve always admired Kun. You didn’t know if your feelings were in the romance department or the mentor department, but you couldn’t help but admire your lovely senior. He was at the top of his major, studying hard everyday and managing his own things while keeping the club in good shape despite the fact that he has three hooligans (consisting of you, Ten, Kai and Angie but mostly you) to handle on a daily basis.

You knew he was an explendid cook, too. Considering he brought a whole buffet for the whole club that he cooked all by himself to celebrate the new anniversary of this club. Kun was talented and good looking, you couldn’t deny it even if you tried.(and thankfully, you don’t need to because no one ever asked about your thoughts on your handsome senior) He was caring, despite the fact that he was always yelling at your ear everyday, but nonetheless you knew he actually cared about you deep down.

Kun was the reason why you had joined the drama club in the first place. You weren’t much of a theater kid, but you were pretty good at acting back in highschool. Just as when you promised yourself not to get involved with the art of theater, you saw Kun acting as a prince in a play at a fair your college hosted back when you were in your first year of college and you couldn’t help but sign up immediately so you could get a closer look at his acting. And as time went on, your playful nature was the reason why he was always by your side.

You refused to think deeper about your feelings on the boy, but you knew they were crossing the line of friendship. Considering the true reason you always skipped classes was (partially to socialise and chat up your seniors and underclassmen to catch up with them) the fact that Kun would always be there to bring some entertainment into your day whenever you even attempt to skip the club meetings. Pushing aside the fact that you almost lost your life over it countless times, you didn’t mind facing the wrath of Kun everyday just to get a few laughs out.

Infuriating and teasing him was always a fun activity.

Quite ridiculous, you gotta agree.

Though, you gotta admit that sometimes his words hurt. You knew he was probably joking most of the time but you couldn’t help but feel saddened sometimes whenever he would grumble on and on about how you shouldn’t have joined the club if all you’re going to do is annoy him all the time. But you didn’t let his words linger in your mind for too long and chose to focus on annoying him either way.

“Damn, Kun. You should stop getting angry so much before your veins pop out, I don’t think any of us are mentally stable enough to call the ambulance for you,” Kai joked as she stood next to said man who was currently trying his best not to beat the living crap out of you right next to you. “Agreed. You’re old enough, Kun, you don’t need any more wrinkles than you already have, you know?” you teased, poking Kun with the wooden hand of his paint brush with a smug expression on your face.

“This is age discrimination,” Kun mumbled under his breath after a big sigh of exhaustion, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Okay, I discussed this with Ten early and I figured I should have informed you too so I’m telling you now about the new story we’re going with for the next play,” Kun ran a hair through his hair, adjusting the glasses on his face as you cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong with the story I suggested?” you furrowed your brows, offended at his sudden decision to change the story.

Kun narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing at you as if he was trying to decipher if you were joking or not. “Are you mental?” Kun asked, crossing his arms against his chest as his eyes went wide, a smile of disbelief on his lips. “How the hell did you think a made up story between the dragon and the donkey from Shrek was ever going to be a good plot for a theatrical play?” he exclaimed in disbelief, causing you to scoff as he waved his arms around in confusion. “You just don’t know what a real beautiful story is, Qian Kun,” you scoffed, crossing your arms against your chest.

Kun groaned, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose to keep himself from exploding right in front of you. “I get how you want to make people around you laugh, but I don’t want this club to be the laughing stock of campus, Y/n,” he groaned, hunching his back as he massaged the space in between his eyes to try to reason with you. However, seeing the older boy in distress was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, you couldn’t help but get on his nerves and push on his buttons even more than you should.

“People need some laughter, Kun. What are you planning, anyways? Some boring Romeo and Juliet type of shit? Twist it up a bit, if you don’t like the donkey and dragon trope I can give you a new one on the spot,” you waved him off before gasping loudly as an idea popped into your head like a lightbulb turning on. “What about Romeo but make it a furry Rapunzel? Romeo, Romeo! Let down your hair! Or tail, whichever works. Be original, Kun!” you nudge your friend with an encouraging wide smile.

Kun opened his mouth to speak as his brows furrowed in confusion before closing it after a small pause. “Dear god, you’re even worse than Yangyang when he asked if he could put crocs on Louis,” he hissed, sighing heavily when he made a note to himself to never come to you for plot ideas for the play. “You should be in the Writing major instead of the fashion major, it suits you,” he commented with a sarcastic thumbs up. “Nice try, Kun. Flattery is no way to get me to change,” you winked, earning a small chuckle from Kun himself.

“Anyways, I was talking over story inspirations with Brooke and Angie. They had some really good suggestions and we ended up choosing this movie called La La Land-” he frowned when he saw you slowly lay down against the wooden floor boards with a loud annoyed groan. “Dear God, Kun. Couldn’t you at least go with something original? My Furry Romeo concept was way better than this,” you swung an arm over your eyes as Shotaro let out a loud alarming yelp when he saw your arm almost knock over a can of blue paint over the props.

Kun rolled his eyes once again, taking a loud exhale as he met your eyes that practically screamed ‘please don’t yell at me, it was an accident. I cry easily’.

“As I was saying, it’s about a pianist and an actress falling in love while attempting to reconcile their aspirations for the future. It’s an enemies to lovers-ish type of story,” he ignored how you kept groaning and complaining in the middle of his words. “And I’m supposed to be playing this actress?” you asked, removing your arm from your eyes to lay it on your stomach as you turn your head to look at Kun with a raised brow. “No shit, you’re our lead actress,” Kun leaned over to smack his hand on your knee with a small chuckle.

“You know if you still want the lead role so badly, Kun. You can take my place in this play, just this once,” you grinned, raising your index finger at him and twirling it in front of his face in circular motions as you sat up. Kun frowned, rolling his eyes as he gently pushed your finger away from his face. “No thanks, princess,” he teased, standing up after ruffling your hair with his hand to go check on the other members on their painting progress so far. “Hey, watch the beret! It’s new, you know!” you hissed before pausing when words that slipped out of Kun’s mouth had finally sunk into your brain, feeling your heart skip a beat at his soft tone.

Kun has never used nicknames or pet names on you. It was always the regular ‘dumbass’, ‘y/n’, ‘l/n, ‘the bane of my existence’ or the occasional ‘the reason why I wished murder was legal’. But it was never ‘princess’. It felt weird being called that, a good kind of weird. You didn’t know if you liked it. The sound of the pet name rolling off of his tongue did something to you and you didn’t know whether to find it ominous or exhilarating.

“Did he just call you ‘princess’?” Brooke gaped, her jaw dropping to the floor as she ran over to your shocked state. Your eyes widened slightly at her sudden appearance, playing it off casually afterwards as you shrugged nonchalantly at her. “I think so? Why?” you asked, leaning back a bit to relax your posture as Brooke gave you a knowing smirk. “That literally has never happened before,” she grinned, sitting down beside you with a half beta-read script. “Really? Then you must’ve never watched his acting performances before,” you snickered, your mind having flashbacks to Kun’s face always flushing beet-red back when he was the male lead of the play.

You always teased him for not being able to say ‘my love’ without being a tomato on stage during practice before he stopped auditioning for roles half way through your first year of college. “God, I missed his acting days. Back then, I would be the one making fun of him off stage,” you sighed, chuckling sinisterly when you remembered how Kun had to hop off the stage unceremoniously in his prince costumes to chase you down the school halls whenever you made fun of a certain gesture he made when rehearsing his lines with the previous lead actress. (who had graduated early to pursue a career in music, if you recalled properly)

“Ah yes, Lunatic Prince Kun chasing down one of the well known clowns this school had ever seen. I still remembered laughing my ass off when Kun dropped his crown midway and had to hold it to his head as he ran down the halls to catch you,” Brooke snickered, shaking her head at the vivid memory, remembering how Kun had cursed out loud when he dropped the (quite expensive) fake crown onto the tiled floor of the halls. “Damn, someone should’ve taken a picture. I didn’t look bad that day considering I was wearing my latest designer shoes back then,” you pouted, putting your chin under your palm as you let out a huff of breath.

“You know,” Ten, Brooke’s boyfriend, spoke up behind the two of you as he came up to sling an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders with a smug expression. “You and Kun have been getting a lot closer than usual. He’s picking you up for practice everyday, right?” he asked, a smirk adorning his lips as he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. You snorted, waving your hand off. “The man almost ripped my sweater off because he was practically dragging me against the floor. We’re close, alright,” you nodded in agreement, patting the beret on your head afterwards.

“Sounds like Kun has some kind of crush on you to me, though,” Ten added, a mischievous smile spreading across his lips, attracting attention from another one of the club members, Angie. “Kun? We’re talking about Qian Kun, right?” she jumped into the conversation shamelessly, wrapping her arms around your neck to engulf you in a small back hug. You were taken aback by this sudden statement, gently pulling her arms away from you as you shook your head aggressively. “Where the fuck did that come from, Ten Lee?” you spluttered, a flustered expression making its way onto your face.

Angie laughed. “Are you shitting me, right now? Kun? The Qian Kun? Having a crush? On the Y/n L/n? I knew you were on crack but I didn’t know you were that high, Lee,” she snorted, doubling over laughing at the thought of Kun having a crush on you with Brooke joining in on the ridiculous conclusion her boyfriend has come to. “Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” she shook her head at you, wiping an invisible tear from her face as Angie leaned her arm on your shoulder.

You furrowed your brows as you leaned back with an offended expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you exclaimed, looking at your two friends who were bawling their eyes out laughing with a confused expression. “No offense, Y/n. But with the reputation you and Kun have the past two years and people occasionally shipping the two of you for your chaotic interactions, once they truly walk into this theater, thoughts on you being a couple would be thrown out of the window without any hesitation,” Brooke shook her head, giggling behind the back of her hand.

“Don’t get us wrong. I personally think you two would be cute together once you stop getting at each other’s throats. But right now? I think Kun is more interested in his own toenails than you,” Angie jokes, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “The other day, the man was about to throw a bag out of the window at you when he spotted you running away from the third floor,” she added, wheezing out afterwards as she and Brooke continued to giggle. “She isn’t wrong, perse,” Brooke shrugged.

You couldn’t help but shrug in defeat, a small laugh eliciting from your lips afterwards. “I guess you’re kind of right.”

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

You didn’t know what’s wrong with you lately but you couldn’t get Brooke and Angie’s words out of your head since last week’s practice for some odd reason. You would find yourself thinking them over as you were embroidering on one of your clothes for a school project that was due in a couple of days, your brows furrowing as you got lost in your own thoughts as you sat next to your classmate in the fashion department room.

What the hell did they even mean by ‘Kun was more interested in his own toenails than you’? Clearly he’s more interested in you than you would think considering he always picked you up everyday after your morning classes are over for the afternoon club meetings. They clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. Just because you’re always facing the wrath of Qian Kun doesn’t mean he despised you, right? He knows you just like to joke around and push on his buttons, you overheard him laughing it off and calling your silly antics ‘amusing’ once when you were passing by his side of the building.

You cursed incoherently when the needle you were using suddenly broke in half from how hard you were gripping it, grumbling as you realised you have to continue with a new one. You tied the string into a knot against the fabric, cutting the string off as you stood up to walk over to the trash can near the entrance door to throw away the broken needle. A sharp click of the door caught your attention, figuring that it was probably your professor, you turned around only to face none other than Qian Kun, the man of the hour.

“Kun?”

Kun looked up from his papers, his doe eyes gazing up at you before widening slightly. “Oh, Y/n, hey,” he gave you a kind smile, removing one of his hands from his papers to give you a small wave. “What are you doing here? Have you finally decided to accept my offer of throwing away all of your clothes in exchange for my masterpieces?” you couldn’t help but tease, raising your brow at him as you placed the back of your hand on your hips, inevitably causing the older boy to frown.

“One day I’m going to really fling you to the sun,” he deadpanned, eliciting a small giggle from you. “Sure thing, old man. For real, though, what are you doing here? Came to see your favorite underclassman?” you wiggled your brows, laying your fingers on your chest jokingly as Kun rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. “As a matter of fact, I did come here to see my favorite underclassman,” he nodded, a genuine smile settling upon his facial features as he waved the back of his papers in front of your face.

Taken aback, you waved him off with a hand, laughing lightly as you felt your heart increasing it’s pace. “Stop, I feel honored to be the infamous Qian Kun’s favorite underclassman. I always knew deep down you liked me-,” you avoided his eyes, chuckling nervously at his word before you were suddenly cut off by one of your classmates who called out Kun’s name behind you from the other side of the room. “There he is! My favorite underclassman,” Kun raised a hand to wave at the boy who called out his name with a smile.

You furrowed your brows, turning around to see the charming Jung Jaehyun jogging up to the two of you with a smile on his face. “Hey hyung,” Jaehyun greeted giving Kun the typical weird bro-hug the male college students in your school often did. “Hey, y/n,” Jaehyun greeted, giving you a polite smile and a small bow despite the fact that you were bugging him a couple minutes ago while he was finishing a new sketch while calling with his friend, Doyoung, who was in the culinary department.

“Hey Jaehyun,” you eyed the boy suspiciously. “Jaehyun’s your favorite underclassman? And all this time I thought you and I had something, ‘hyung’,” you mocked the same tone Jaehyun used, crossing your arms against your chest as you huffed, eliciting a few laughs from the two boys. “I’m sorry that you’re too delusional,” Kun grinned mischievously with a wave of his papers, patting your head with the small stack of papers in his hand before walking off with Jaehyun to the desk he was using.

You gave him the stink eye, earning the finger from Kun, himself. Scoffing as you walked back to your desk where your friend,Abhie, was making no effort to hide the fact that she was laughing at your little misunderstanding. “Stop laughing, it’s embarrassing enough as it is,” you huffed, sitting down on your chair with a sour expression as you reached over the desk to grab a new needle to use to finish the design on your old shirt. “Let me take in on how embarrassing that was first,” she laughed, watching as you try your best to cover your flustered expression.

“Kun and Jaehyun have been spending time with each other a lot more than usual, don’t you think?” you asked as you grabbed a new embroidery thread from the bundle in front of you, measuring the thread as you unwind the bundle. “They’re in different majors but they look quite busy, I don’t think Jaehyun’s even in the drama club. I’m pretty sure he has to deal with his own writing club so I’m sure he isn’t joining the drama club,” you analysed under your breath, your brows furrowing in concentration.

“Guess someone got sad that her senior didn’t see her as their number one underclassman,” Abhie raised her brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she placed her finished embroidery on the table you were both sharing. “What are you talking about? I may not be his favorite underclassmen, but I know I’m definitely his number one,” you lied, huffing dramatically to make your friend laugh even more. You knew very well that you’re definitely not Kun’s number one, but seeing your friend laugh was amusing. And you felt the urge to push on Kun’s buttons as payback for deceiving you. (sort of)

Abhie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Believe what you want,” she laughed, an amused smile taking over both of your faces as you stood back up and placed your needle back on the table beside your embroidery hoop. “Observe,” you snickered, turning around to walk towards said senior with a loud call of his name, ignoring how most of your classmates instantly gave you death glares from every corner of the room for disrupting the quiet atmosphere you all had developed over the past couple of hours.

“Kun! Qian Kun!” you exclaimed, jogging up to him as he continued his talk with Jaehyun.

“I sense an incoming dissatisfaction,” Kun deadpan, sighing heavily as he felt your presence grew closer with every step, causing Jaehyun to snicker at the older’s half annoyed and half embarrassed expression. “Who’s cuter? Me or Jaehyun?” you asked, putting an arm over his shoulder and tugging him towards you. “Jaehyun,” he stated almost immediately with a monotone, his gaze never tearing away from the papers in his hands.

You frowned, causing Jaehyun to laugh even more than he already has. “You didn’t even hesitate to think,” you frowned, retracting your hand to put your hands on your hips as you narrowed your eyes at your senior. “Didn’t need to,” Kun grinned sinisterly, shooting you a small glance before looking back down at his papers with a poker face. “Ouch, my heart hurts now,” you winced dramatically, laying a hand on your heart as you took a step back and swung the back of your free hand against your forehead.

“My heart’s been broken so many times-”

“Don’t you have your embroidery assignment to finish?” Jaehyun asked, an amused smile on his face as Kun gave you a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed and his mouth gaped open as he tried to find the words to speak. “Oh shit, right, nevermind,” you lowered your hand with wide eyes, closing your mouth shut at the reminder. “I’ll see the two of you later,” you waved, waddling back to your desk when you remembered that you had two days left to finish said assignment and you were barely halfway done.

“As you should!” Kun exclaimed.

“So?” Abhie raised her brow at you with a small hum. “I’m definitely his number one,” you popped up, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up and a wide smile. “I am not believing that,” she giggled, shaking her head as you scoffed and went back to finishing your design on your shirt. “Why do you and Kun fight 24/7, though? I swear, you two are infamous for arguing on a daily basis. You’re not even in the same year or major, it’s hilarious,” Abhie laughed in disbelief, running a hand through her long hair.

“Tough love,” you exclaimed with another enthusiastic thumbs up. “Unrequited tough love,” she added with a soft snort, causing you to laugh as well. “He’ll learn to love me soon enough, just you wait,” you waved her off, sticking your tongue out as you tried to slip the thread into the tiny hole in your needle.

“What if we do a musical for the next play?”

“Kun, stop flexing. We know you just want to sing.”

Kun frowned upon the sound of your voice, turning his head to glare at you as you laid down on the wooden floorboards of the stage. “I swear, if violence weren't against my morals, I would’ve kicked her to the moon. God give me strength, I don’t have enough cash for bail money,” Kun groaned, rubbing his hands against his face in distress as you and a few other club members laugh at his reaction. “I admire the amount of patience God has given you, Kun,” Gwen patted his back sympathetically.

“Gender equality at it’s finest,” you cheered, raising your hands up enthusiastically before they flopped down almost painfully against the floor of the stage. Kun rolled his eyes, walking over to the other side of the room to discuss the play with the other members of the club. “You really like Kun, huh?” Brooke raised her brow at you, wiggling them afterwards when you met her eyes with an enthusiastic nod. “Of course, I do! He’s my senior after all,” you sat up, stretching your arms over your head with a yawn.

“The smile on your face makes your words seem so passive aggressive,” Kai chuckled, shaking her head profusely. “Oh hush, it may seem like I’m pushing his buttons on purpose but I actually really admire Kun. He’s the reason why I got into this club in the first place,” you exclaimed with a genuine smile, turning your head to watch the older boy flip through the script with Ten and Renjun from the other side of the theater room. “Wait, what?” Kai’s eyes widened at your sudden statement.

“Yeah, I actually got into this club because of Kun! I remember it like it was yesterday, I was just walking around campus and I passed by the theater. He was practicing for a play and I was like ‘damn, mans got skills.’ And at one point he gave me a flyer to join this club and encouraged me to join, which is why I’m here now,” you explained, shrugging casually as you leaned back against your hands behind you with a soft smile. “And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you guys,” you added on.

“Cool, but I was asking about the part when you said you weren’t pushing his buttons on purpose,” Kai chuckled, earning a soft smack to the arm from you as Brooke let out a loud laugh in response. “Same, same. I can’t believe you’re not annoying him on purpose, I mean, I’m not complaining. It creates more romantic tension that I could use for my literature essays,” she shrugged, slinging her arm over your shoulder with an enthusiastic grin. “Of course I’m annoying him on purpose,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not that big of an airhead, you know,” you scoffed as you pushed Brooke’s arm off of your shoulders.

“You know, there’s a chance that Kun would replace Ten in the play this time?” Haechan asked, plopping himself down beside his girlfriend while chewing a mouthful of bread. “Excuse me?” your eyes widened, straightening your back up as you and the girls lean over to hear Haechan more clearly. “Ten got an opportunity to go to an Art Gallery in Busan, he’s not sure if he’s going though but if he does, he can’t be back in time for next month’s play,” Haechan informed, pulling out a cupcake from his bag and handing it to Kai.

Brooke’s eyes lit up at this. “Oh yeah, he told me about that! It’s a great opportunity for Ten, I doubt he’s going to deny the offer for some play,” Brooke chuckled, shaking her head at her own boyfriend. “So, you’re telling me that there’s a chance I’ll be doing the play with Kun?” you asked, eyes wide as a wide smile spread across your face. “Oh god, I’ve never actually acted in a play with Kun before. He stopped acting by the time I joined the club,” you exclaimed excitedly, your hands balled up into balls at the thought of acting side by side with your senior on stage.

“More opportunities for you to bully our Kun,” Kai giggled, nudging your sides with her elbow as you nodded eagerly. “That too!” you agreed with an enthusiastic nod, raising your hands up in the air at the thought of finally seeing Kun act on stage once again. “Honestly, I thought I’d see myself on Mars sooner than seeing myself and Kun on the stage together performing,” you scratched the back of your neck with a nervous chuckle as Kun began walking over with stacks of paper in his hands.

“Here’s your script for the next play, rehearsals are going to start tomorrow so y/n,” Kun gave you a knowing look, eyes boring holes into your head as you gave him an innocent smile and a peace sign as you take the paper away from his hand, your fingertips grazing his own. “Don’t be late,” he sighed heavily, smacking the stack of papers on the top of your head softly before distributing the actors their own scripts.

You purse your lips, rolling your eyes. “‘Don’t be late’,” you mocked his tone, shaking your head at the elder. “As if you don’t pick me up every morning class before I even have the chance to be late,” you mumbled under your breath, earning a smack upside the back of your head from your friends, letting out a yelp in response. “What was that for?” you rubbed the spot where your friend hit, turning your head around to see Furou with a cocky grin. “Come on, we actually have a pretty strict deadline this time,” Furou sat beside you, patting your back.

“They say the school is holding some sort of event next month and Kun’s taking this pretty seriously considering the money we earn from this play will be donated to charity,” Furou explained, kicking her feet as she looked around the theater. “So you’re going to be dragged around Kun a lot during rehearsals,” Furou chuckled, giving you a look of mock sympathy, causing you to groan loudly and lay back down on the wooden floor of the stage.

“Oh well, at least I get to see our lord and savior, Qian Kun, act on stage again,” you gave her a sarcastic thumbs up, smiling at her as you turned your head around to look at the boy in question who was furrowing his brows as he read over Kai’s script with an intense expression, a hand pushing back a part of his dyed hair that was covering part of his eyes, his parted lips mouthing the words printed on the paper.

Your friend chuckled at how intently you were staring at the older boy, shaking her head profusely. “Does this mean you’re going to stop being annoying momentarily?”

“Keep dreaming.”

“As you may have heard from our precious club members, I will be replacing Ten as your supposed love interest on stage,” Kun said, popping out of nowhere as he pulled the chair in front of you to sit right across the table. You furrowed your brows, “are you stalking me?” you frowned, looking up from your phone as you carefully sipped your beverage. You swore that this man was psychic, he can sense where you are whenever and wherever and it was almost not funny.

Kun rolled his eyes at you, crossing his arms against his chest as he let out a heavy sigh. “We have practice in two hours, I just happened to be in the library the same time as you do. Except I don’t come here for free coffee and free wifi,” he smacked his bag filled with a stack of books on accounting right on the table with a click of his tongue, taking you by surprise at the sudden sound. “I figured we could chat for a bit and walk to the theater room together since you’re oh-so-busy,” he grinned cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Excuse you, you’re not my babysitter. I can go to the theater room myself, thank you very much,” you huffed, frowning deeply at the unusual sight of his cheeky grin. You couldn’t help but admire how his eyes crinkled slightly as his lips stretched across his face, thus revealing his cute dimples that made you suppress the urge to poke them. Kun’s smile always had that weird effect on you and you didn’t know why. And you didn’t know if you liked it either.

Which was probably the main reasons why you liked pissing him off all the damn time.

“Sure, as if I don’t have to run like Sonic the Hedgehog all around campus to ensure that you’re not skipping,” Kun chuckled, shaking his head at you in amusement. “I’m just helping you, Kun. You always go on and on about losing weight even though you’re literally one of the fittest guys I’ve seen on campus. I’m helping you by making you exercise by disappearing every five seconds,” you went on dramatically, waving your hand around in circular motions as you spoke, sipping your drink with your free hand.

“You never fail to blow me away with your weird respon- did you just call me hot?” he raised his brows when he took a small pause at your words, causing you to stop sipping your cup. You paused, your eyes grew wide as they scattered to look everywhere but him, replaying your words in your head to figure out where he got that idea from. “I just called you fit, there’s a difference,” you slowly pulled your drink away from your mouth, trying to appear as casual as you could.

‘Keep calm, Y/n. Qian Kun can sense your fear.’ as you would often say.

“So you’re basically saying I look good?” Kun cocks his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips as he raised his brow at you, taking you aback at his sudden cockyness. You paused, gulping as you stared into his eyes for a brief moment, sipping your drink loudly as you desperately tried to think of a good comeback. “What did you say our next play was about?” you spluttered, coughing when your voice cracked, putting a hand on your throat out of habit as you looked down at your feet.

Kun chuckled, looking down at his own hands when you changed the topic. “Since we did La La Land for the last play, I figured we’d do something old timey. A classic. Brooke and Xingyi managed to come up with a few plots and we came up with this story of a princess having a secret affair with her musketeer bodyguard,” Kun explained, choosing to let your words slide momentarily as you revert back to your casual self. “Oh god, Brooke and Xingyi came up with the plot?” you groaned, putting a hand on your face as you rubbed your forehead.

“Don’t tell me. It’s going to end in despair, isn’t it? Dammit, they know full well I despise getting all emotional on stage, I swear, they’re doing this on purpose,” you grumbled under your breath, plopping your now empty cup on the table with a scowl on your lips as Kun let out an amused laugh. “Oh shut up, they’re taking this chance to see me cry too, you know,” he raised his brow at you, leaning back and relaxing against his chair. You paused, taking his words in before clicking your tongue.

“You’re going to cry on stage?” you blurted out, your eyes going wide at the thought of seeing your senior cry in front of hundreds of people. “Can I rent a camera crew to take HD pictures of you in tears in front of me? I think that would be one hell of a sexy cinematic piece to go with my photography portfolio,” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at the older boy with a teasing smile on your face.

Kun chuckled, tutting as he waved his finger at you rather sassily. “Look who’s being a stalker now?”

You leaned back, a frown settling upon your lips at his words as you huffed at him. “I’m doing this for humor purposes, it’s for the good of the world. And my own amusement, of course. Don’t you think a lovely picture of our dear president bawling his eyes out on stage would be a perfect decoration for our stage?” you asked, putting your hand up in the air as if you were caressing an invisible wall. Kun pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, a hand on his chin and his fingers covering his lips.

“I think I’ll have to reconsider changing the plot to whatever donkey dragon furry type of fanfiction you came up with in your head back when we were doing La La Land.”

“You know, I thought you were gay,” you mumbled, drawing circles on the smooth surface of the piano as you continued to listen to Kun practice on the piano the music department had been using to practice for their own music show for the event. Kun let out a soft chuckle, “is this about the Jaehyun question you asked a couple of weeks ago?” he asked with a staggering breath, flipping through his music sheets as you continued to hum in confirmation.

Nothing had changed after Ten left for his trip to Busan. Other than the fact that Kun has been rehearsing his lines with you 24/7 considering you were his partner on stage after all. Though, he wouldn’t be as aggressive and you don’t have to sacrifice your perfectly good sweaters getting ruined as these days his ‘aggressive dragging by the back of whatever top you were wearing on that day’ technique had morphed into ‘pulling you by the wrist like a rag doll’ with a script in his hand.

You could see from a mile away that Kun was more than excited to finally be on stage again. And you couldn’t help but let a smile stretch across your lips whenever you sat beside him when you were reciting your lines together, watching the passion glimmer in his eyes as his face contorted with emotions as words spewed out of his mouth like a song bird chirping on a tree branch on a bright morning.

Kun had called you over after your class to try on the costumes that just arrived and to check on any imperfections and minor details. You were always his go-to fashion kid whenever he needs help with anything that involves fabric and accessories. The moment you opened the door, you were immediately greeted with melodious piano music and a rather handsome senior behind said piano with his brows furrowed in concentration. It was a rare sight to see for you.

“You said I needed to try on some outfits and inspect the costumes?” you put a hand on your hip, walking around the stage as Kun closed the piano lid while he got up on his feet. “As always,” Kun rolled his eyes, grabbing the saddle of his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he walked over to you. “I told the others to place the costumes near the changing room, come on,” Kun placed a hand on your shoulder as you walked side by side to the changing room, his sudden touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You okay?” Kun asked all of a sudden, pausing in your steps.

You hummed, looking up at him in surprise, your eyes going wide. “You just shivered, is the ac too cold or something?” Kun asked, retracting his hand to slip it in his pocket as he looked around the theater room, extending his other hand to feel the cold atmosphere. “Yeah, I’m kind of chilly, I guess,” you mumbled with a slight nod, rubbing your arms to cover up your lie. You weren’t going to lie, you kind of liked the comforting way his hand felt on your skin.

“I’ll be fine, Kun. Let’s just go back to what we’re doing,” you scurried off to the changing rooms, spotting the opened box filled with plastic wrapped costumes and their props. Trying to shake the thought of holding Kun’s hand in yours out of your mind as you sat down on the wooden floor and began opening a few of the costumes to examine the details to look for odd spots or ripped fabric, hearing Kun’s footsteps catching up to you a few seconds later.

After a while of sitting side by side, focused on spotting any minor mistakes with the stitching and the quality of the costumes, it was finally time for you to test your own individual costumes. “So, which one do you think I should try first? The pretty princess gown or the Belle from Beauty and The Beast before she developed Stockholm syndrome?” you asked, nodding your head at the two dresses hanging by their clothing hangers in each of your hands. Kun laughed lightly at your small joke as you turned to the mirror, humming as you furrowed your brows.

“Try the peasant one first, the fabric looks pretty low quality compared to the dress,” Kun hummed, pointing at the brown dress in your left hand. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed the princess dress on the empty space on the chair beside Kun. “No shit, it is a peasant dress after all. Look at those improper cross stitches, they could’ve done a better ladder stitch on the waist,” you mumbled to yourself as you walked into the changing room and began to change into your new costume.

“This dress is kind of tight, though,” you commented as you tugged on the ribbon around your waist with one hand and unlocked the door with the other, seeing an unbothered Kun looking through his phone with his brows furrowed. “What do you think? See anything wrong with it?” you did a slow 360 twirl in front of him, tugging the edge of the dress down when you spotted a few wrinkles. “Could use some ironing,” Kun joked, putting a hand on his chin as he looked up at you admiring yourself at the mirror nearby.

“It’s a peasant dress, Kun. They purposely didn’t iron this to fit the aesthetic,” you turned around to your senior with your hands on your hips before outstretching your hand for Kun to give you your princess dress. “Princess dress, please! This is the one I’ve been looking forward to the most,” you grinned, causing Kun to chuckle as he grabbed the clothing hanger with the dress clinging onto it beside him and handing it to you. “Thank you, old man,” you snickered as you hopped in the dressing room again, dismissing the loud offended ‘hey!’ Kun had let out behind you.

Once you walked out of the dressing room, you were tugging on the gloves you were supposed to wear, adjusting the fake plastic tiara on your head. “Okay, Kun, round two. How do I look?” you asked, patting your sparkly dress to remove any dust sticking to the fabric. Kun looked up from the costume he was examining himself with unbothered eyes, which grew wide slightly at the sight before him.

To say you were astonishing to his eyes was nothing but an understatement. The way the dress defined the shape of your body, the way the crown had accented your face, the way the gloves covering your hands made you look so elegant and delicate. His heart raced as he watched you scratch your hair while examining yourself in the mirror to look for any rips in between the fabric and the designs. He had to keep himself from letting his jaw drop to the floor as his eyes scanned you from the cute little hello kitty socks you were wearing to the beautiful red crown placed on your head.

“Are you smiling at me, Qian Kun?”

He blinked, his eyes lowering down from your crown to your eyes, gulping silently as he realised you had caught him checking you out. He kissed his teeth nervously, leaning back against the chair as he looked down at his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head abruptly as he felt you take a few steps closer towards him with a smug expression on your face.

“You think I look good, don’t you?” you pointed an accusatory finger at the boy, who shook his head vigorously at you. “I was looking at the realistic tiara,” Kun coughed, clearing his throat as he stood up suddenly, taking you aback by how close the proximity between the two of you have become once he got to his feet. He resisted the urge to boop your nose as his hands went up to gently lift the tiara from your head, careful to not get any of your hair as he examined it in front of you with a sheepish smile.

‘God, what am I even doing?’ Kun thought to himself as he used his superb acting skills and squinted his eyes at the tiara in between his fingertips. Though, his attempt to cover up the fact that he was internally flustered was futile for your next words had thrown him into a state of shock for a few seconds. “You know you have a pretty smile,” you commented, your eyes boring into his casually as you watched Kun examine the tiara with a small smile.

His eyes grew wide at you, his body froze as his smile became crooked at the sound of your words escaping your lips. “Excuse me?” he said after a pregnant pause, your words echoing in the back of his skull over and over again like a broken record player, sending jolts of electricity into his own heart. “You have a very pretty prince smile,” you couldn’t help but reach up and poke the dimples protruding from his cheeks with your gloved finger, grinning mischievously when you saw how Kun’s nervous expression melted into one filled with embarrassment.

“Thanks,” he muttered, gulping as he plucked up the courage to carefully place your tiara on top of your head again, his fingers caressing your hair slightly. You felt your heart raced as he gently placed the tiara back where it was as if he was crowning you princess himself. “You should smile more,” you mumbled, feeling yourself grow sheepish as Kun’s hands carefully pulled away from you. “Yeah?” he hummed back, almost inaudibly as he looked down at your feet with a soft smile on his face.

“Can you smile more so you don’t exactly look like a body that just got pulled out of the river?”

Kun’s head shot up in alarm at your words, all of the bashful and giddy feeling bubbling up in his stomach evaporated instantly as he could feel his vein pop under his skin. Watching as your own flustered expression morphed into a smug one, adjusting your tiara with your gloved hand as you broke the intimate aura that had crawled its way between you two merely seconds ago.

“Just when I thought you were going to say something normal for once.”

“Oh, five minutes late! That’s the earliest you’ve ever been,” Lin exclaimed, putting the back of her hands on her hips as she watched Kun drag you across the floor into the theater room by the wrist as if he was dragging a body from the fiery pits of the underworld. “I wasn’t fast enough,” you groaned, standing up straight as your back was starting to hurt from your terrible posture. “You are not the Lightning McQueen you think you are, y/n,” Lin chuckled, shaking her head at you as Kun shut the door behind you and released his hold on your wrist.

“Exactly my thoughts,” Kun nodded in agreement, giving you an amused smile. “I like to believe I’m Sonic the Hedgehog or the Flash, but you do you,” you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest as you walked over to the other members of the club, who were all currently helping the others with their costume as you were all finally starting rehearsals considering the play was in less than two months.

“She’s coming in earlier than usual. Usually it would take you about fifteen minutes to half an hour to find her and another ten minutes to drag her here,” Lin commented, taking a step closer to Kun as she examined your figure socializing with the other club members, who were looking at you as if you had grown two heads. (no one could blame them for being shocked to see you on time, usually you would take centuries to get to the theater)

The boy beside her hummed as he shrugged. His hands dug through his bag for his phone and his script, oblivious to the smug expression Lin was giving beside him. “Mostly because we meet up before rehearsals start in the library to go over our lines,” Kun shrugged, pulling out the crumpled stapled papers from his bag pockets. “We might as well normalize seeing her arrive on time now,” he chuckled, flipping through the pages as he read through the sentences he highlighted a couple of weeks ago.

Lin raised her brow suspiciously, crossing her arms as Doyoung walked up to Kun with a confused expression. “Did something finally happen between you and y/n?” he asked, putting a hand on his chin as he stood in between Lin and Kun, squinting his eyes at you as he and the girl watched you revise your lines with your brows furrowed with the other members of the club. A tiara was placed on your head as you helped your fellow actors with their lines, your free hand making grand motions as you read your lines aloud.

Kun furrowed his brows at Doyoung’s statement. “What do you mean ‘finally’?” he asked with an incredulous expression, his head shooting up from his papers as he furrowed his brows at his friend. “I don’t know, there’s something suspicious with you and her arriving together. There’s something even more suspicious with the fact that you’re both arriving on time!” Doyoung exclaimed, crossing his arms against his chest, narrowing his eyes at his friend who gave him a confused expression.

“Apparently they’ve been having library dates everyday before rehearsals so they’re only a teensy bit late now,” Lin informed, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, causing Kun’s frown to deepen even more. “They’re not library dates, we’re just discussing and reading over our lines together,” Kun retorted, feeling his heart race in his chest at the thought of being on a date with you. He felt flustered at the mere thought of hanging out together as more than friends, but yet again, your little meetups felt more than just a casual hang out.

Though he was probably overthinking it again.

“Oh, so it’s definitely a date,” Doyoung confirmed.

“Agreed,” Lin nodded with a hum.

“It’s not, I’m just there to keep her from escaping campus before rehearsals start. I mean, we are having our big assignments coming up so I guess she doesn’t have that many people to talk to as a reason to ditch practice. “They’re just friendly meet-ups. How can it be a date if all she does is infuriate me and make my college life a living hell even more than Yangyang has. And that’s saying something considering I live in the same dorm,” Kun rambled on, his hands moving around and making dramatic gestures as words of complaint continued to spill out of his mouth like a leaking tap.

“Yet that doesn’t stop you from having a crush on her for the past two years, does it?” Doyoung smirked, raising his brow at his friend who had stopped talking upon hearing his question. Lin giggled, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as Kun’s expression became flustered. You could practically hear ‘kun.exe.hasstoppedworking’ from the boy’s thick skull as Kun froze in place, trying to come up with some random reason to deny his friend’s words.

Alas, Kun was not much of a liar.

“Yeah,” Kun chuckled, looking down as he flushed, a giggly smile spreading across his features as his gaze shot up from his shoes to you. Okay, maybe he wasn’t much of a big liar but he was too whipped to deny it.

The soft, innocent smile on your face as you made a few of the club members laugh with your witty jokes and silly antics, watching them cackle and hold their stomachs to contain their laughter. That was Kun’s favorite smile. “It doesn’t,” Kun sighed rather dreamily, relaxing his figure as he leaned his head to the side to get a better look of your smile.

Truth be told, it really was no secret. Literally everyone in the club knew about Kun’s obvious crush on you ever since he ‘retired’ from being the male lead. Ever since the day he met you when you were just in your first year, looking for new friends and new hobbies to do. Ever since the first day he saw you audition for the main role back when the drama club was doing ‘Romeo and Juliet’ for the annual event your campus always hosts.

Watching you act on stage as part of the audience made Kun feel as if he was looking up at a sky scattered with stars. The way your personality completely morphs into the character you were portraying and the way you conveyed whatever message your character was trying to send out to the audience had made you find your way into his heart throughout all these years. The way your beauty sparkled under the lights, the way your expressions captured his heart on stage. The way your voice sends butterflies into his stomach as if you were ordering them to fetch his heart like an ominous siren.

He didn’t mind being teased by you every single day if it meant that he was getting your attention, he didn’t mind dragging you to the theater room everyday if it meant he got to get close to you. He didn’t mind being the target of your jokes if it meant that you two could get a tiny bit of interaction during practice, despite the fact that you two get nothing done together if so. After all, those were the original reasons why his liking for you grew ever so stronger. It was almost laughable.

Hell, it was making him crazy.

“KUN! Y/N IS RUNNING AWAY AGAIN!”

“DAMMIT, Y/N.”

Quite literally.

“Oh, how I longed to be in your arms after all these years, Abdul!” you cried out, clutching the dress with both of your hands as Kun wiped the invisible sweat off of his brow, dropping the sword he was clutching to the wooden floor of the stage as a look of despair stretched across your face.

You only had less than three weeks left of rehearsal, therefore, everyone had to be focused. You had been practicing for the past two hours now without breaks, your throat was sore from delivering lines and dehydration. One of the air conditioners wasn’t working very well this morning and maintenance was coming the next morning, leaving you and the rest of the club members under scorching heat. It was the middle of June, after all. And the god forsaken dress you were wearing was no help whatsoever.

“Princess Putri, my love, my little songbird! Oh how all of these years of holding myself back, all these years of fighting and hoping to reunite with thou,” Kun recited, his face scrunched up as if he had really been fighting a dozen of thieves to protect the princess. The expression on your face did nothing to show how awed you are at the sight of Kun’s acting. It’s been so long since you’ve seen Kun shine on stage again and quite frankly, you missed it.

You were seeing Kun’s superb acting performance right in front of you. He wasn’t even taking this as seriously as he should in the actual performance. You couldn’t imagine how magnificent his aura would be once the lights shine down upon him on stage once the day arrives. And you couldn’t help but admit that you couldn’t wait.

Though as much as you would stand on the stage to admire your senior’s acting performance, you were on the brink of being one with the sun itself. You watched with a sorrowful expression as Kun walked over to you, his boots making soft noises with every step he took, his hand on his chest as he came closer to you. You smiled slowly, focusing on staying in character as Kun recited the words written on your scripts.

Reciting the words as he perfectly brought the message his character, Abdul, was conveying to your character, Princess Putri, to life. It was like music to your ears.

You and Kun were standing in front of each other now, proximities close as the room grew dim save for the two stage lights shining down upon the two of you. The theater was almost as silent as a mouse except for the soft piano music Chenle was playing below the stage. The atmosphere felt seren, it made you feel as if it was just the two of you on stage, stuck in your own little world.

Eyes gazing into each other, your hands placed gently against his chest. Your fingers fiddling with the tassels on his shoulders, his hands coming around you only to land on your hips as he pulled your body towards his own, his face oh-so-close to your own. “May I indulge in the feeling of finally having your lips pressed on mine, my love?” Kun whispered, his soft voice booming across the speaker, half lidded eyes gazing down your lips before glancing back up to your eyes.

With glossy eyes, you looked up at him, sniffling into the mic softly before slowly nodding. A sad smile stretched across both of your lips as Kun leaned his head towards your face and leaned it to the side, thus covering both of your faces with his hat, giving the audience the illusion of the characters actually kissing. Upon hearing the club members clap for you, a few whistles from all around the theater room as the lights finally turned back on, you pulled away, making sure to add distance in between the two of you as you coughed awkwardly.

You couldn’t even stop your heart from beating so loudly in your ears as you clasped your hands behind your back, squeezing your hand into tight fists to calm yourself down. You’d like to think that it was the heat affecting you but you knew very well that there was no point in lying to yourself considering Kun was also avoiding your eyes for a brief moment. For a short moment, you couldn’t get the thought of Kun’s face being so close to yours out of your head. You couldn’t get the feeling of your heart which was on the brink of bursting out of your chest.

This never happened whenever you were acting with Ten on stage before, or any of your partners. It was odd to say the least. But your thoughts were cut short when your co-director spoke up to break the tension in the whole theater room.

“As expected of the president and our star,” Doyoung clapped unceremoniously, looking down at the clipboard he was holding in his arms as he flipped through the pages. “Okay, so, the play is in less than three weeks. We just need to adjust a few things then we’re good to go,” he announced with a loud clap, putting the clipboard in between his arms. “You all did good, we’re going to cut rehearsals short today, you all deserve it!” he added with a wide smile, earning enthusiastic cheers from the people around you.

You let out an exasperated groan, rubbing your face with your hands as you internally thank the gods that you decided to use your waterproof make up set today. “Dear god, I am literally being roasted alive,” you groaned, wiping the sweat off of your brows as you pulled the tiara off of your head and placed it on the props where the rest of the other crowns were being placed. Kun walked to your side, pulling his hat off of his head, being careful as to not get the feather on it. “I could tell how much you were practically dying out there,” he chuckled as you both made your way backstage.

“Why are our costumes so damn hot, too? The fabric is literally acting as an aluminum foil for baking us alive, the maintenance better be here before we arrive tomorrow or else I’m going to fling myself to the sun,” you tugged the bow off of your collar, fanning yourself with your hand as Kun pulled his gloves off of his hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to help you fling yourself to the sun,” Kun joked, running his hand through his hair to mess it up a bit.

“That’s so romantic of you, Kun.” You placed your hands on your hips, grinning mischievously at him. “Nice try, you’re never going to get rid of me until you graduate,” you stuck your tongue out teasingly at him, walking over to your bag filled with your clothes and heading off to the changing room.

As soon as you left your stall, you were immediately pulled by your friends into a group huddle. “Dude, you were amazing out there. God I can’t wait until the big day comes,” Kai exclaimed, slinging her arm around yours as you watched Angie grab your costume out of your arms and placed it in your opened locker. “Agreed, the chemistry between you and Kun are just-,” Gwen gave a chef’s kiss with her fingers at the end of her sentence as she walked beside her.

You smiled, laughing lightly. “Thanks! Damn, I wish I was one of the audience. It’s been a while since I actually watched a play and not act in it,” you hummed, slinging your free arm around Ren’s shoulders. “Oh my god, I remembered seeing you in the audience two years ago. Look at you now, acting on stage with Qian Kun!” your friend exclaimed, putting her free arm in the air to emphasize her words.

“More like ‘being the reason why Kun is taking anger management classes’,” Angie snickered, earning a pout from you as you huffed at her. “As he should,” you joked, shaking your head profusely before they began to speak up again. “Are you sure you aren’t into Kun? That scene looked pretty intense and I’m 100% sure the theater hasn’t been this intense since that day you tripped over a can of paint and fell off the stage,” she added with a raise of her brow, her lips quirking up into a small grin.

You grimaced at the embarrassing memory of tripping over a few cans of pain, thus falling off of the stage and twisting your ankle. You remembered how Kun had to carry you with a disappointing shake of his head to the nurse’s office. However, thanks to your shamelessly bubbly personality, the tension in the atmosphere was cut like a knife when you patted Kun’s back with one arm and raised your uninjured leg up the air, pointing your free hand to the entrance as you yelled “onwards, donkey!”

“I remembered that! Did you really have to call Kun ‘slower than a snail who didn’t study their Math test because they overslept’? We could’ve lost another club member, you know? And what if Kun goes to jail for attempted murder? We’re all too broke to bail him out. Who am I going to ask Yangyang to sneak into their room for pictures of their elegant notes to?” Kai smacked your arm with her own, a joking frown on her lips as you let out an amused laugh. “Chill out, you’re never going to get rid of me,” you waved your hand off, rolling your eyes at your friends.

“Also, I don’t like Kun like that,” you deadpanned, sending a glare to your friend, who grinned even more. “Are you sure? The chemistry was hella spicy back on stage, and that kissing scene? Oh god, I was so close to pushing both of your heads together so you can actually kiss!” Gwen gushed, groaning as the other girls agreed with affirming nods and light laughter. “She’s not wrong,” Brooke added with a simple shrug, crossing her arms over her chest when she saw you looking at her to back you up.

You rolled your eyes. “That just means that Kun and I have superb acting skills, thank you very much!” you exclaimed with a bright smile, earning more smirks and grins from your friends as you all walked down the campus hall to head to the nearby cafe across the street. “Come on, you two looked like lovers who have actually been longing to be with each other for years!” Kai exclaimed, her tone becoming slightly whiny.

“Again, superb acting skills,” you stated with a silly grin.

“I swear, you’re so oblivious to your own feelings. Dude, no one looks at their co-star like that!” Gwen groaned, smacking you upside the head gently, causing you to let out a surprised yelp in response. “You’re making a big deal out of this, I swear to god,” you rolled your eyes at your friends, rubbing the back of your head. “As much as I hate to say it, they’re not wrong. You two were all googly-eyeing each other up there,” Ren chuckled, shaking her head at you.

You groaned once again, scratching the back of your head.

“For fucks sakes, I don’t like Kun!”

“Is that literature?”

You glanced up from your paper, not surprised to see your senior, Kun, sitting down on the empty chair across the table from yours. “Yeah, I was absent last week so I had to catch up on some assignments,” you nodded, tapping the highlighter against your lips as you gazed into your laptop screen filled with nothing but long paragraphs of letters and random words. “Though the professor refused to fill me in on anything and my friends who are in that same class are too busy right now to help,” you groaned, leaning your head on the highlighted literature book on your desk.

Kun chuckled, sipping his coffee before placing it on the table. “Mind if I take a look? I’ll see if I can be any help,” he asked, putting his forearms on the table as he gave you an amused smile. “Go ahead,” you waved your hand off, your voice muffled by the thick pages of your book as you let out an exasperated sigh. Kun smiled sweetly, leaning over to pull your laptop and turn it so that he could see the screen better.

“Oh, I did this one a couple weeks ago,” he hummed, scrolling down through the questions your professor had given, furrowing his brows as he read over your answers. “As a drama kid, you’re not much of a literature fan, huh?” Kun chuckled, raising his eyebrows at you as you leaned your head up, placing your chin on your book as you shrugged casually. “It’s just not my cup of tea,” you confessed truthfully, knowing full well that you have no idea what you’ve been writing for the past thirty minutes.

“When is this due, exactly?” he asked once again, scrolling down your google docs. “Saturday?” you sat up straight, groaning as you looked down at your book with a hopeless expression. Kun let out a small ‘ah’, looking down at your barely finished assignment, thinking so hard you could probably hear the gears in his head turn. “Tell you what, I think I still have my old notes. You can revise and find the answers there instead of working your ass off all night for this,” Kun suggested, giving you a tightlipped smile, sliding the laptop over to you.

Your eyes widened at his sudden statement. “Wait what? Kun, no, you’re going to need it too once the exams starts,” you frowned, shaking your head at him as you gripped the sides of your laptop to slide it over right in front of you. “It’s fine, Hendery borrowed it the other day, too. I don’t mind if you borrow it for a day or too as well,” he shook his head at you, his charming smile never leaving his face.

“Kun, no. Dude, it’s fine, really. It’s just forty numbers, I’m sure I’ll get it finished before the deadline,” you shook your head vigorously, a firm frown placed on your lips as you gazed up at your senior. “You know you want to,” Kun taunted, his teasing tone sending sparks into your chest as he leaned his cheek against his knuckles, a loopy smile spread across his face. Oh how the turns have tabled. You always found it immensely attractive whenever Kun became cocky.

His usual cranky, mature, responsible self was an admirable feature of his, you weren’t going to lie. But there was something attractive and endearing when Kun’s cocky side popped out, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that his loopy smile was the definition of ‘hot’. Of course, you weren’t going to admit it to his face. Not today, at least.

You stared into his eyes, watching as one of his eyebrows turned upwards as he waited for you to accept his offer, his loopy smile gradually turning into a smirk as the seconds went by. At this point, you were just having a pointless staring contest. “No,” you deadpanned, huffing as you shut your laptop and carefully placing it in your bag. “I refuse to accept your help, good sir,” you gave him a cheeky grin of your own.

“Are you sure?” Kun asked, his smirk never leaving his face as he leaned back in his chair to run a hand through his slightly disheveled blonde hair, pulling his glasses off of his face. “Why are you so persistent in helping me over something so small? It’s just an assignment, Kun,” you placed your hands on your hips as you squinted your eyes at him suspiciously, pondering if he wanted something from you to get him so persistent on letting him help you.

This was not the usual Kun you knew. Usually, Kun would smack you with whatever papers he had on hand whenever you even joke about asking him for help with your assignments. And now, he was suddenly offering to let him help you? It was enough to convince you that Kun was possibly replaced by an alien. Or even worse, brainwashed by those aliens Renjun had always ranted about. Oh god, you regretted ever doubting and snoozing off during his annoying explanations.

“Who are you and what have you done with Kun?” you asked, shakily holding up your pen at him as if you were ready to strike at him at any given moment. Kun furrowed his brows, smiling softly at you as he pulled his face away from his knuckles. “Why are you acting as if I’ve been possessed by a ghost or replaced by some sort of imposter, this isn’t among us,” Kun exclaimed incredulously, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing.

You pulled your bag closer towards you, tightening your grip on the pretty yellow gel pen in your hand. “How do I know if you’re actually Kun and not some kind of alien? Last time I checked, you nearly banished Yangyang from your dorm when he asked you for help on his homework,” you furrowed your brows at him, waving your pen in circular motions as Kun balled one of his hands up into a fist, pressing it into his mouth.

“Yangyang and Hendery had to perform a whole ass satanic ritual to get you to help them with their studies, it only makes sense for me to be suspicious if you’ve been abducted and brainwashed by those aliens Renjun always talks about,” you slowly got up from your seat, pursing your lips as you began to add on to whatever evidence you have in mind to prove that Kun was probably not himself at the moment. “I’ve watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and The Maze Runner: Scorch Trials before, I know how this alien shit works,” you hissed.

Kun’s body began to shake as he tried his best to conceal his laughter as his eyes scrunched up into cute little moon shapes, his dimples protruding from his cheeks, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to keep himself from doubling over laughing and disrupting the other students or teachers in the library. “And then? Go on, I’m listening,” Kun managed to gasp out as he took his glasses off to rub the space in between his eyes as he laughed silently.

You couldn’t help but grin, watching as Kun patiently waited for you to go on despite the fact that he was probably on the brink of laughing himself to death. You then pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your head away from the older boy, tapping your feet against the carpeted floor. “You’re really being suspicious, you know,” you grumbled under your breath as Kun let out another wheeze of laughter.

“Alright fine, how about this? You do something for me in return if I give you my notes,” Kun asked, a wide smile stretched across his face as he leaned over against the table, raising a brow at you as he placed his glasses back on. You lit up at this, turning your head at him in curiosity. “Yeah sure, name your price. As long as it’s not anything weird,” you nodded, earning another laugh from Kun at your sudden change of reaction.

“Alright in exchange for my literature notes, you let me treat you out a day before the big day of our spectacular performance. I heard there was a carnival near the park, we could just meet up there,” Kun raised his brow, letting out a small hum as he looked at you with a glint of hope in his eyes. Your eyes widened at his sudden proposal, uncrossing your arms from your chest you leaned your head to the side in confusion. “Like, just the two of us?” you asked rather hesitantly, feeling your heartbeat increase slightly.

Kun chuckled once again, nervously scratching the back of his head in an attempt to hide how flustered he felt at that moment as he stood up, grabbing his cup of coffee with him with one hand and snucking the other inside his pocket. “Why not?” he shrugged casually, a shy smile stretched across his face as he spoke, looking up at you with a soft expression on his face. Oh how fast your heart was racing at that exact moment.

You bit your lip, looking down at your shoes for a brief moment before gulping slightly. “Is Qian Kun asking me out on a date?” you teased, a cheeky grin forming on your lips despite the fact that your heart was practically ramming against your ribcage. Kun let out another chuckle, his soft smile sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering around and about in your tummy.

“You can think of it whatever you like.”

You smiled at his words, giggling lightly.

“Well, better be prepared to be penniless after the charity event ends then, Kun.”

Yeah, you definitely take back what you said about not liking Kun.

“Y/n! Truth or dare!”

“Excuse me?” you cocked your head to the side, dropping your bag at the side of the stage as you walked up to your group of club members who were all huddled up into a huge circle. “We’re playing truth or dare, join us, won’t you?” Ren asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit on the empty spot next to her and Shotaro. “Truth or dare? What are we? Elementary schoolers? I’m definitely in,” you chuckled, scooting over as you rubbed your hands together sinisterly.

Brooke laughed, shaking her head at you. “I love how we’re just here playing truth or dare while the fossils are over there doing business,” she snickered loudly, looking over the only three responsible members of the club. More infamously known as ‘The Fossils’ which consists of one of the oldest members of the club, aka, Gwen, Doyoung and Kun. Pushing aside the fact that Gwen is only in her second year of college.

“We can hear you!” Gwen exclaimed from a mile away, furrowing her brows as she flipped through the schedules of the events with the other two seniors. “We know!” Brooke yelled back, a cheeky grin spread across her face as you let out a light giggle. “Okay, so, who’s next?” Haechan asked, spinning the empty wine bottle in the middle of the group circle. “Wait where did you guys even find an empty wine bottle? Isn’t heavy alcohol not allowed on campu-”

“Shotaro, hush! It’s stopping!” you gently pushed the younger boy’s face away with a palm to the side of his face to hush him as you all watched in anticipation as the bottle slowly came to a stop, the empty tip pointing at Renjun, who groaned in annoyance as the others cheered for joy. “Oh fuck,” Renjun cursed, a frustrated smile stretched across his face as you rubbed your two hands together.

“Dare,” Renjun chuckled.

“I got a good one!” you exclaimed raising your hand, receiving mischievous grins from your friends as Renjun’s smile turned into an abrupt frown. “I dare you,” you looked around, spotting a small empty plastic doritos bag and placing it in the boy’s hands with a cheeky grin. “To throw this out of the window to aim it at the security guard,” you grinned, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you laughed sinisterly.

“What did the security ever do to you to make you dare someone else to litter from the third floor?” Haechan asked, laughing along as you all watched the colour fade away from Renjun’s face. “He scolded me for accidentally dropping my juice box to the ground,” you rolled your eyes, patting Renjun’s back and pushing him to get up on his feet. “I swear my juice box didn’t even touch the ground and the old man had to go ham on me,” you grumbled under your breath as Renjun got up to his feet with the plastic bag in his hand.

Renjun looked back at you, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re making me a victim of your revenge here,” he deadpan, furrowing his brows as you handed him the finger. “It’s a dare, Huang,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Either that or you put that maid dress costume we bought earlier on with cat ears for the next hour,” you placed your hands on your hips. “Renjun, put the maid dress on,” his girlfriend barked, pulling out her phone and opening the camera app, eliciting laughs around you as you all watched her serious expression in contrast to Renjun’s terrified one.

“I rather not embarrass myself publicly like this, thank you very much,” Renjun shook his head, glaring at everyone who was hoping for him to choose the maid dress instead of knocking on death’s door. “Well? Off to it, we don’t have all day,” you grinned, waving your hand at the boy as if to shoo him away from you. “I swear, I’m going to pull an uno reverse on you someday,” Renjun grumbled as he opened one of the windows of the theater room, peeking down to spot the unsuspecting security guard along with the other innocent bystanders.

You all cheered unceremoniously as you watched Renjun ball up the plastic bag and throw it down to the security guard before quickly shutting the window close so as to not get caught by said grumpy security guard. “Great, who’s next?” you exclaimed with an enthusiastic clap of your hand, ignoring the death glare Renjun was sending you from across the room as he walked back to the circle. “Oh god, I hope we get someone good,” Kai mumbled under her breath as she spun the bottle.

You all waited in anticipation, sucking on your bottom lip as the bottle slowly comes to a stop, the tip pointing right at you. ”Shit,” you exclaimed with a sarcastic smile, looking around your friend group who gave you all evil glares as if to say they were finally going to have revenge for all the stupid dares you made them do the past two years you’ve been here considering the bottle rarely goes to you.

“Truth or dare?” Brooke asked with a sinister smile, rubbing her hands together as they all scooted closer to look at you in anticipation. Watching as you gave your friends a tight lipped smile, gulping inaudibly as you nervously blurted out a small “truth?” almost questioningly.

“Do you have a crush?”

“Hah?”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “What are we? Middle schoolers?” you raised your brow, scratching the back of your head. “Just answer the stupid question, y/n,” Kai deadpanned, her sinister smile never leaving her face as you continued to stare at your friends with a confused expression. ‘Well this isn’t as bad as I thought,’ you thought to yourself with a small shrug. “Yes, I do,” you admitted shamelessly as if it was an everyday question, giving them an innocent smile.

“Who?” Shotaro asked, squinting his eyes at you. You raised your brow, crossing your arms firmly as you giggled. “One question per truth, suck it,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at your friends. Someone else spun the bottle quickly, causing it to stop right in front of you, causing your jaw to drop, eliciting a round of applause and laughter from your friends. “Okay, now spill, who?” Brooke repeated Shotaro’s question, tapping her nail against the wooden floor in anticipation.

“But I haven’t chosen whether I wanted truth or dare, yet,” you shot back, raising your brow as your friends shared knowing looks. “Still,” they replied shortly, tight-lipped smiles stretching across their faces as you frowned abruptly. “This isn’t fair, I can’t get asked twice!” you retorted, feeling your anxiety creep up as you saw Kun’s figure discussing the events with Gwen and Doyoung at the corner of your eye, hoping to god that he wasn’t listening to any of this.

Haechan shook his head, tutting at you softly. “The bottle landed on you fair and square, therefore you have to answer the damn question,” he grinned, laughing sinisterly as you purse your lips at how you’re literally cornered by your friends right now. “Fine, I’ll say who it is,” you grumbled, adjusting your sitting position on the floor. “He’s someone who hates me,” you stated, half jokingly, giggling as their reactions dimmed down only to realise that you have pulled an uno reverse card.

“What? That’s not fair, you have to say their name!” Angie exclaimed, pointing an exclamatory finger at you as you stuck your tongue out at your friends with a cheshire grin. “Suck it, you didn’t say I have to specifically say his name!” you giggled, giving them enthusiastic jazz hands. “Anyways, I’m not playing anymore to save whatever's left of my dignity,” you scooted backwards, giving them two peace signs, your wide grin never leaving your face.

“Wait, she said ‘he’. And she said that he hates her, which only leads to one suspect,” Kai explained, looking at the rest of your friends with brows furrowed with concentration. They all gasped in unison, looking at you with wide eyes before looking back at your precious club president (aka the poor unsuspecting victim slash bystander) with an equally shocked expression.

“KUN! DO YOU HATE Y/N?” Angie shouted at the top of her lungs, cupping her mouth to attract the three Fossil’s attention.

“What?” Kun shouted back, turning around with his brows furrowed, papers in his hands as he used the heel of his palm to push his glasses up to his head. Oh how you felt your heart dropping to your stomach. The fact that you had found out you had developed a small crush on your lovely senior merely less than three days ago wasn’t helping the fact that he looked immensely attractive in his attire.

With his glasses pushed up to the top of his head, causing the bangs in front of his forehead to mess around a bit. His platinum blonde hair was a little bit messy and disheveled, probably the result of his hands running through them too much in distress. Considering Kun had a morning class today he was wearing a baggy white t-shirt over his tall, built figure. The sleeves were short and wide enough to reveal his muscular forearms. His black ripped jeans giving him that edgy, sort of ulzzang boyfriend look that you would see on pinterest.

“DO. YOU. HATE. Y/N?” Angie repeated.

“Stop yelling, you’re going to make us all deaf!” Gwen shouted back.

“Do I hate Y/n?” Kun repeated, pointing a finger at himself before looking at you, his adorably confused expression sending butterflies in your stomach. When the hell did he have that big of an effect on you? You swallowed down your nerves and used your superb acting skills to shoot him a loopy wide smile, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up, earning a soft smile from your lovely senior.

He chuckled briefly, putting the back of his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I do!” He teased, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks as he grinned cockily at you, causing you to frown abruptly. “It’s scientifically proven by Qian Kun, our lord and saviour himself!” Kai exclaimed, raising her arms up in the air as if she had just received an invitation to the Grammy awards. “Y/n, you like Kun?!” Angie gasped dramatically, shaking Lin’s shoulders aggressively as if she had just found a priceless artifact.

You laughed, trying to conceal how flustered you felt knowing full well that Kun was joking considering what happened approximately three days ago at the library. You know damn well that he was definitely lying. “You all have a huge misunderstanding,” you exclaimed, standing up to your feet as you jogged on over to stand beside Kun, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling his head towards you as if you were putting him in a headlock.

“You can’t see it but he is in love with me!” you joked, giggling lightly as Kun began to start smacking the papers he was holding against your back gently as a sign to let him go. “Get your filthy hands off me,” he joked, his body shaking as he laughed. “You aren’t the draco malfoy you think you are, Kun,” you grinned, looking down at the guy whose neck was stuck in between your right elbow.

“This is harassment, I should sue,” Kun laughed as you released him from your grasp, smacking his papers gently on your head.

“See, guys? Kun is infatuated and lovesick.”

Oh how you didn’t know how true your words are.

Today wasn’t one of Kun’s greatest days.

He didn’t know why he was so upset that day but it was one of the rare times when he would wake up on the wrong side of the bed. The fact that the moment he got out of his room only to see Yangyang’s stuff all over the couch angered him even more, despite the fact that the younger was probably already off to class. Kun had an afternoon class that day as his professor had postponed the classes due to personal reasons, which left him to go to the theater room early to practice his lines before the other club members arrived.

He wasn’t in the mood to take anyone’s bull crap today and the fact that the event is coming up in a week wasn’t helping his terrible mood. All he wanted was to crawl back to bed and sleep until his emotions weren't bubbling up inside of him, waiting to burst. Though, thankfully for him and everyone else, the club members were able to tell that Kun wasn’t in a very happy mood at that moment.

So they were pretty cool with Kun using whatever patience he has left and replying with short one worded answers unless needed. Funnily enough, today is the last day of rehearsals so Doyoung decided that you should all just retouch the props and backgrounds with paint and mod podge to be sure that the paints don’t chip off if something happens during the big day. Though, unfortunately for you, you were too high on serotonin (in other words: caffeine) to acknowledge the scary aura Kun was radiating.

“Qian Kun!” you exclaimed, jumping on him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Lovely morning we’re having, don’t you think?” you grinned, cocking your head to the side to have a better look at Kun’s face, your mood wavering in the slightest bit when your eyes came in contact with his cold, exhausted ones. “Yeah, sure. Have you done your part of the props, yet? We have to make sure everything’s good by the end of the day,” Kun asked, gently pulling your arm away from his shoulder as he tried his best to keep his temper.

You frowned slightly, putting your hands on your hips. “Of course not, I just got here,” you informed, shaking your head at him firmly. “Well then, get to it. We don’t have much time today and I really want to go home,” Kun waved you off, his tone strict as he looked down at the clipboard in his right hand, using the left to rub his eyes.

His strict tone caught you off guard. He wasn’t usually this strict to you, he sounded like your 80 year old science professor after the man lost his glasses and refused to find them because there was 20 minutes of class left. Those aren’t really good memories to reminisce at that moment. But nonetheless, Kun wasn’t in a good mood and you didn’t know if you should keep cracking jokes or shut up.

“Kun’s being unusually not himself today,” you commented under your breath as you walked over to Renjun and Angie, who were repainting the tree barks for the play while you were carrying a can of paint for them. “He’s been like that since he came here, man’s probably having a shitty day, don’t bother him,” Renjun shrugged casually, dipping his paintbrush into the paint can you had set on the floor beside you along with the other cans of paints, earning an hum of agreement from his girlfriend.

“I agree. Kun rarely gets this pissed off and from what I’ve heard from past club members, an angry Kun isn’t a good thing,” Angie added with a nod, pointing her wet paintbrush at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “So try not to anger him, most of us are trying our best to just get shit done and go home, too,” she told you, her tone slow as if she was gently telling off a small, stubborn, bratty five year old who’s prone to mess things up with every step they take.

In this case, you were that five year old.

“What if he just needs some cheering up, though?” you asked, sitting down on one of the crates filled with props, careful as to not accidentally knock over the paint cans around you. “He might be in a terrible mood but maybe he needs some cheering up or something,” you mumbled, drawing patterns on the wooden crate with your finger as your eyes glanced from the wood to Kun’s distressed figure. Leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kun walk around with an emotionless expression on his face.

Renjun clicked his tongue, bending down to open another can of paint to add more details to the leaves. “Y/n, no. Please don’t, just help us with the props. Angie’s almost done with colouring each individual wooden bush, you should help and actually do something,” Renjun shook his head firmly, narrowing his eyes at you as you gave him a frown, looking down idly at the can of paints surrounding you as Angie carefully dipped her paintbrush in one of the paints, her tongue stuck out at the corner of her lips as her shaky hand carefully added more details to the wooden board.

Before you could open your mouth, you heard the senior in question call out your name with a heavy sigh following after it. “Y/n, get down from there before you break something. Help the others with the prop won’t you?” Kun sighed heavily, furrowing his brows as he placed the hand that was holding his clipboard to his hip and raised the other to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt his blood boil in annoyance. “Relax Kun, I’m simply observing,” you grinned, giving him an enthusiastic wave which only happens to make his frown deepen.

“Observing isn’t going to get anything done around here, why can’t you help out for once other than laze around?” Kun glared daggers into your skull, but alas, you didn’t appear to be as fazed as you were on the inside. “Who took a shit in your cornflakes today, Qian Kun?” you asked, crossing your arms across your shoulders as you grinned gingerly at him, earning a soft groan of annoyance from the older boy.

He took a deep breath as if to keep his composure and hold himself back from doing anything he’s going to regret. But alas, was murdering you on the spot really that big of a crime if all you’ve been doing the past hour was chat around and push his buttons by simply breathing?

“Y/n, I don’t have the patience to deal with your shenanigans today. Just get off the damn crate box and help out for once,” Kun was beginning to grow restless. He didn’t know why he was getting so worked up over your daily nonsensical antics, he didn’t know why seeing your pretty smile was making his patience run out like sand in a tiny hourglass. The way you responded with a quick “nope!” with an eager shake your head wasn’t helping him tame the flaming fury inside of him.

“Y/n, I swear to God. You’re so ludicrous and infuriating, I don’t even know why we haven’t kicked you out yet,” he hissed, his eyes darkening as he felt his mind grow numb, oblivious as to how your bright smile had faltered at the anger lacing in his voice. “Hey, you don’t need to be so mean!” you exclaimed, furrowing your brows as Kun’s eyes shot up to look at you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kun said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“I think I have the right to express my frustrations if all you’re going to do is mope around. It’s literally the last day of rehearsals, you should be taking things seriously,” he laughed in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.

You opened your mouth to say something before closing it when you realised you had run out of comebacks considering Kun was ‘kind of’ right in a way. But you believed that you should all have a good break before the actual performance considering you’ve been practicing so hard for the past few weeks. You all deserve a good rest and you were sure you were going to get it if it weren’t for the fact that Kun was currently in a shitty mood and none of you were brave enough to ask for one.

“Just get down from there and help Angie paint before my brain explodes into smithereens,” Kun sighed once again, furrowing his brows as he waved his hand off. You huffed, mumbling small curses under your breath as you blindly hopped off of the crate you were sitting on before your feet accidentally knocked over a few cans filled to the brim with paint, causing them to spill to the wooden floor. “Shit,” your eyes widened as you quickly bent down to pick the cans up, earning a few frustrated calls of your name from your club members.

“Shit, I’m so so sorry I wasn’t looking!” you stammered as you saw Renjun hopping off his stool to look at the mess you had accidentally made. “I’ll get the mop, we can still wipe it off before the paint fully dries,” Renjun exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in distress. “I’ll come with you,” his girlfriend patted his shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Y/n, what the hell?” Kun exclaimed, walking up to you as his eyes grew wide, fury glossing over his pupils as you fumbled with your bag to find the wet tissues as your friends ran off to the nearby janitor’s closet.

You pulled out a box of wet wipes as you knelt down, trying to wipe off as much as you could as you looked up at Kun in a panic. “I didn’t mean to knock it over, I swear! It was an accident, I didn’t-” you were cut off with a frustrated groan from Kun, watching as he rubbed his face with his palms as if he finally had enough of your nonsense. “Shut up, just shut up, y/n. Oh my god, see this wouldn’t have happened if you just fucking listened to me!” Kun scolded, the anger in his tone holding no mercy as everyone stood still in the room in awkward silence.

Your jaw dropped in surprise, needles slowly piercing your heart as you watched Kun’s face get even angrier as the seconds went by and at this point you ran out of tissues to wipe the paint off. “Kun, I said I was sorry. It’s not like I purposely kicked the paints, I was just getting off the crate like you told me to,” you shot back defensively, careful as to not grip the tissues in your hand as they were dripping everywhere on the floor.

Kun rolled his eyes, a deep frown on his face as his expression darkened at your words. “I told you to get off of the crates, not walk around like a drunk blind bat. Did you get hit in the head or something? I swear I still don’t understand why we haven’t kicked you out of the club. You’re lazy, reckless, clumsy, you never help around. All you do is cause trouble for everyone, you’re late all the time that you need me to babysit you 24/7,” Kun began ranting, oblivious to how every word was like a dagger shooting through your heart.

“It’s so annoying and sometimes I just wished I never asked you to join this damn club if all you’re going to do is pile up more work onto not just me but the other members of the club. We were suppose to finish early if it weren’t for your clumsy ass fucking up once again!”

It was pretty rare to see Kun curse. And when he did, it’s usually a sign that you have gone too far or you’ve pushed his limits. You’ve never seen Kun this angry at you before in your two years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him this livid even if you pushed his buttons way more than you should. But the way he looked at you was the one that hurt the most. The way he laughed sarcastically in disbelief as he continued to rant on and on how he’s so close to kicking you out of the club.

The way his expression was telling you to leave his sight for good. The way his dark eyes held nothing but hatred and anger.

It hurt you.

His cold angered stare did nothing but pierce your heart as you blinked back the tears that started to gather in your eyes. A lump began to gather in your throat, begging for you to let it out as your eyes burned. You looked down sadly to avoid Kun’s angered eyes, gripping the half dried tissues as the paint stained your hand and dripped down in between your fingers and back to the floor.

“Look, Kun, I’m sorry okay. Just let me clean it up I swear I-”

“Why did you even join this club if all you’re going to do is burden me and the other members?” Kun snapped.

“Kun, that’s enough,” Doyoung spoke up upon entering the theater room with a bucket filled with water in hand, putting the bucket down in front of you before placing a hand on Kun’s shoulder to stop him from saying anything else. “Y/n, calm down. It’s not a big deal, you didn’t even spill that much, you can just go home for today,” Doyoung gave you a comforting smile, reaching over to pat your head as you took in a deep exhale to keep your tears in as you felt eyes boring into the back of your skull.

“What? No, she needs to clean this up and face the consequences of her clumsiness,” Kun’s eyes went wide at his older friend, shaking his head as you bit your lip to keep yourself together. “It’s no big deal, Doyoung. Really, I’ll just clean it up myself,” you shook your head, leaning down to lift the bucket up towards you. “No, you two can go home early. Kun, you’re clearly in a terrible mood so I suggest you just go home and take some rest. Y/n, it’s okay, I’ll clean up. I haven’t been doing much these days anyway,” Doyoung shook his head profusely, grabbing the bucket from your hands.

“Doyoung, you can’t just-”

“Doyoung, it’s fine I can-”

“Just go home before I dump paint on the both of you,” Doyoung hissed, shaking his head at both of your stubbornness. ‘They really are perfect for each other,’ he thought to himself as Kun clicked his tongue in frustration, walking back stage to grab his stuff to cool off. You stood there in silence, you didn’t know what to say and honestly you were scared that if you were to take one more step, you would fuck something up again and make Kun get even more angrier at you.

Doyoung chuckled, shaking his head at you as he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he spoke up, attracting your attention. “Go home already. Don’t take Kun’s words to heart, you know very well he didn’t mean them. He’s just having a bad day, he’ll be back to his nice self tomorrow,” Doyoung gave you an encouraging smile, causing you to muster up whatever strength you had left in you to smile back at him. You gave him a small nod, despite the fact that you weren’t so convinced.

“Thanks, Doyoung.”

You were an idiot. It was no surprise to anyone.

After three days of no interaction with Kun whatsoever, you still decided to go to your little hangout? Date? Friend date? (You don’t even know anymore.) That you both had arranged two weeks ago at the library. You remembered the excitement you had suppressed all week at the thought of finally going out on a date with Kun but that was before the fight that happened at the theater club three days ago. Could you even call it a fight if you were the one who was apologizing and Kun was the one uncharacteristically yelling at you?

You didn’t know anymore.

You were also hoping to patch things up with Kun when this date finally came up considering you couldn’t find him anywhere on campus. Hell, you even had to ask Yangyang for Kun’s whereabouts which wasn’t much help considering all he told you was ‘he comes and goes like the wind’ but you were desperate to talk it out and apologize to your senior.

Was this the effect your crush on him had? Usually you would just wait it out until things get better between the two of you but you knew that this wasn’t a minor fight. You actually pissed Kun off to his limits and you knew you had to apologize if you wanted him to continue to like you. That is if he actually does like you and wasn’t flirting and messing with you in the library for laughs and payback for all the mischief you had caused during your two years of knowing each other.

However, to your dismay, you had been waiting at the park right across the carnival for three hours. And you were getting quite chilly (curse your past self for wanting to look good and had decided to wear you newest short sleeved shirt) and the wound in your heart was slowly opening up again the longer you waited. You’ve sent around five to seven texts by now and you were starting to wonder if he was just busy or if he was purposely ignoring you.

Y/n: Yuh Kunners 16:49

Y/n: are you coming anytime soon?? Remember we were gonna hang out today right????? 16:50

One missed call from y/n

Y/n: I’m waiting in the park like we planned. Are you on the way lol 17:10

Y/n: kun im getting cold lmfao get over here before i turn into a living ice cube 17:37

Two missed calls from y/n

Y/n: dude i spent an hour choosing my clothes pls come ive been waiting for hours 18:49

Y/n: kun???? Cmon i know u were mad but u cant just stand me up here lmfao :,} 19:00

Two missed calls from y/n

Y/n: i guess ur not coming, huh 19:45

You sighed heavily, feeling your eyes burn as you watch people coming in and out of the carnival, gripping tightly onto the saddle of your bag as you begin to walk to the exit of the park. You pressed the back of your hand to one of your eyes when you realised you couldn’t hold back a tear, blinking rapidly when you started to feel them begging to leak out of your eyes like a broken tap. But you knew you couldn’t just cry like a loser in public just because someone stood you up.

Your thoughts begin to wander as you make your way down the sidewalk and towards the bus station, feeling your heavy heart slowly sink down to the bottom of your stomach with every step you take. You could admit that you did go a little too far back at the theater room considering so many people had warned you to lay off the joking around for just one day so as to not make Kun’s temper go off the charts. You should’ve listened to them, you could admit that.

But you also knew that you didn’t deserve to be stood up like this.

And it sucked.

How could he just yell at you, storm off, proceeded to ignore you like the plague at school, then ghost your text and stand you up just like that without an apology or an explanation? Hell, he didn’t even read your texts.

“Y/n?”

You looked up from the ground with wide eyes, recognizing that melodious voice you’ve been longing to hear for the past three days. “Kun,” you mumbled almost inaudibly, your eyes widened slightly to see Qian Kun in his casual attire that could easily send your heart into a heart attack. “What are you doing here?” he asked, coughing awkwardly as he took in your whole look, feeling his breath being taken away by the mere sight of you being more dressed up than you usually are.

“Waiting for you,” you deadpanned as if it wasn’t obvious enough, feeling your tears dissipate when you finally made eye contact with the boy in front of you, whose eyes grew wide at your words. “Me?” Kun’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, confusion glossing over his facial expression as he pointed a finger to himself. “Remember we planned a carnival date two weeks ago? Or are you just still mad at me for what happened in the theater room?” you asked, giving him a sad smile.

Kun’s face turned pale at the reminder, your words hitting him like a brick when he realised he had stood you up for who knows how long considering the bus stop you two were standing on was quite the long walk from the carnival. “Oh fuck,” he blurted out when your words finally sink into him, an apologetic expression washing over him as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you that mad that you just had to stand me up?” you furrowed your brows, taking a step towards him.

“Y/n, I’m so so sorry,” he started but you cut him off to give him a piece of your mind. “Look I admit, what happened at the theater was my fault and I should’ve listened to you instead of pushing your buttons and causing trouble. But was it really that bad that you had to keep me waiting here for not two- but three hours? I know I was- I am immensely annoying and I’m truly sorry for that,” you took a deep breath to keep yourself from getting too emotional in front of him as Kun stared guiltily at you.

“That was completely on me but that doesn’t give you a valid excuse or reason to stand me up for three hours, Kun,” your gaze hardened as you stared teary eyed inot Kun’s sad ones. He gazed up at down at your hopeless figure, swallowing at what he’s about to do as he leaned towards you to grab your hands in his, giving them a tight squeeze as he lifted them up to his chest. Your eyes widened at the sudden contact, despite the fact that you’ve literally hugged him on stage before. But there was something in his actions that made it seem more intimate in a way.

“I don’t know what to do or say to make you feel better but all I can say is that I’m sorry, I'm so so sorry,” he started, running his thumbs over your knuckles.

“I swear, I know it isn’t an excuse but I’ve been so stressed the past couple of days with the play, the big assignments at the end of every semester and I recently got this internship deal and I just started today. I completely forgot about today, I’m so so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you, and about the theater-” he swallowed down the guilt bubbling up inside of him as the memory of your hurt expression resurfaced in his mind once again. (which sort of brought him to the point of avoiding you all around campus)

“I had my phone on mute during the internship and I must’ve missed your texts. I’m assuming you sent me some because I know for a fact your impatient ass would probably bombard my phone with calls and texts,” he joked, laughing lightly when he realised now isn’t the most appropriate time to joke around considering you two were in a very tight situation. He gave you a small smile, his eyes filled with a small glint of hope as he took a step and tugged your hands so that he could enclose whatever proximity you two had left in between you.

“I’m so sorry. I know you might not forgive me but I hope you can give me a chance to make it up to you. Right here, right now. The carnival isn’t closing until midnight after all,” he suggested with a small shrug, looking down at his wrist watch before gazing back up to your eyes with a soft expression. You bit your lip, gazing down at your hands being held delicately in his, his thumb caressing your knuckles softly as you gave it a small thought.

You gave him a genuine smile, your heart lightening as you came to find that you couldn’t refuse anything when Kun was giving you a look as if you were the only thing valuable to him in the world at that moment.

“Sure, Kunt.”

“Can we just have one day without you pushing my buttons?”

“I have the right to call you day considering you’ve been an absolute Kunt this week, get over it.”

“Okay, ladies. I have a confession to make,” you took a deep exhale as you walked over to the food table where your friends were sitting in before the actual performance. “You like Kun?” Brooke raised her brow, opening her mouth as Ten leaned over the table to give her a spoonful of the sweet dessert he was having. Your jaw dropped when you realised she beat you to your own confession but however you weren’t backing down from an opportunity to mess around with your friends.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Yep.”

“I really really like Kun,” you confessed all of a sudden, causing Kai to choke on her ice cream at the sudden news. “That’s so sudden,” she exclaimed with a hoarse cough, leaning over to steal Hyuck’s cup of coffee as she chugged it down while patting her chest. “Cat’s out of the bag, I like Qian Kun. But are you all really surprised?” you sighed, sitting down beside Lin as you sipped on your own drink with a nonchalant shrug.

“Excuse me?” a sudden voice spoke up.

You stopped sipping loudly at the familiar voice, turning your head around slowly to come in eye contact with none other than Qian Kun himself who was in the middle of eating his fruit salad. His brows furrowed in confusion as your eyes grew wide, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as your jaw dropped open, your thoughts messy as you try to find the words to speak. “You didn’t tell me Kun was here,” you hissed at your friends, choosing the option to act as if Kun wasn’t sitting right beside you this whole time.

“Dude you’re literally blind, he was here the whole time,” Kai deadpanned, giving you a look that completely expressed how she was fed up with your idiocy for the day. “Can I speak now?” Kun pipped up, a smirk stretched on his lips as he watched your flustered figure retaliate against your friend’s words for calling you blind despite the fact that you kind of are in a way. “Nope, nevermind!” you shook your head abruptly, standing up as you gripped your handbag and slung it over your shoulder.

“You didn’t hear me say shit! Obliviate!” you used the straw the cashier gave you as a wand, waving it in front of Kun before you ran for dear life to the one place where he can’t get in: also known as the women’s dressing room. “Oh no you’re not! You can’t just Harry Potter reference you’re way out of this confession,” you could hear the chair grinding against the tile floor, signalling that Kun had got up to follow after you as you both laughed loudly.

“Go away, Kun!”

You knew that confessing that you like Kun wasn’t that big of a deal considering you did almost cry in front of him when he stood you up a couple of days ago on your carnival date. And you were definitely more than sure that he had reciprocated your feelings considering how he was smiling nonstop (Plus the fact that the apples of his cheeks and ears were tinted pink) after you pressed a small peck on his cheek at the end of the date right as he dropped you off at the bus stop.

But it wouldn’t be fun if you continued to act as bashful as you did back at the carnival date, would it?

You and Kun let out small lighthearted giggles as you shut the door of your dressing room to his face, provoking him even more as you jokingly told him to ‘fuck off’ considering you two have about thirty minutes left until you have to get on stage. Yes, you were using this as a delightful excuse to do your make up and dress up fifteen minutes earlier than the rest of the cast considering it was quite a long play and you wanted to reread your script and calm your nerves before show time.

“Princess Putri, my love, my little songbird! Oh how all of these years of holding myself back, all these years of fighting and hoping to reunite with you once again and hold you in my arms,” Kun recited as you ran towards him, into his arms which were stretched open wide, waiting to wrap around you in a tight and loving embrace. With a single, meaty tear, you jumped into his arms. Letting him spin you around like the princess you were portraying as the piano music became loud and almost deafening, almost letting you believe that you were in your own world.

Going against the script, you wrapped your arms around Kun’s neck, leaning your head towards his to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly, eliciting a laugh from said boy as he placed you back on your two feet. “Oh how I’ve been longing to feel your lips against mine,” he leaned his forehead against yours, his words going against the script as he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Placing his free gloved hand on your chin, his thumb caressing your lips as the camera zoomed in on your expressions.

Your raw emotions being captured on the camera as you gaze back at Kun lovingly, a loopy smile stretched across your face as you scanned his features. His blonde hair poking out of the hat he was wearing, his front bangs messy and slightly wet with sweat with the sword fighting scene he had with Haechan earlier on stage moments prior. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing hitched as Kun slowly leaned his head towards yours, closer than he should be as the piano music in the background began to slow down.

His eyes gazed up and down from your eyes to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own as his dark pupils sparkled under the theater light, the audience as silent as mice as they waited in anticipation for the long awaited kiss scene. “May I?” he whispered almost breathily, his melodious soft voice sending shivers down your spine, the microphone attached to his cheek picking up on his almost inaudible words. His eyes gazed up at yours for your consent as your lips parted into a wide grin.

You leaned forward, nodding softly with a wide smile on your face. He let out a soft chuckle, lips inching closer to yours as your free hand tugged on the tips of his hat to tease the audience by blocking the kiss scene completely from them as his lips pressed against yours. His hand that was on your chin moved up to your cheek as he leaned his head to the side slightly for a better angle, hearing the audience break out into a loud applause as you gripped onto his hat tighter to cover up the fact that the two of you were practically making out in front of a hundred people.

Your eyes shut tight as you basked into the feeling of Kun’s soft, slightly chapped lips against yours, the cherry lipstick probably making a mark on his lips as you moved yours against his in sync as Kun’s hand that was on your cheek moved to turn off your mic and his own as he refused to pull away from you. He leaned his face so that he could deepen the kiss, not caring about the lipstick you were wearing that was currently smearing and staining his lips a rosey pink.

“Holy shit, are they actually making out?” Haechan whispered aloud backstage, leaning his head forward slightly so as to not accidentally get caught by the applauding audience as Lin and Doyoung pulled on the rope to close the curtains. “Did anyone get that on camera?” Kai hissed, looking at the other club members in hopes of finding someone with their camera phone up, smiling widely when she saw Ten and Brooke holding up their phones up with big grins on their faces.

“YOU MORONS, STOP RECORDING AND CLOSE THE CURTAINS!” Doyoung exclaimed from the other side of the stage.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that you two just made out in front of a couple hundred people?” Ten chuckled, replaying the video of you and Kun kissing in front of the whole campus and probably their parents, siblings and grandparents. “Plus the owner of the school and the theater majors,” Brooke added with a soft snicker as Ten pulled her close to him in a tight embrace as they and a few other club members gathered around to watch the video. “Priceless, who knew our favorite dynamic duo would end up making out in front of the whole campus?” Kai teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, leaning your head down on the table to avoid the knowing smirks of your club members. “I didn’t know you were all suppose to bully me today, I would’ve brought a pan to smack you all into tomorrow if I knew this was going to happen,” you added, mumbling small curses incoherently as your friends considered to snicker at your uncharacteristically flustered and bashful state.

You remembered immediately running off from the stage once your club members started applauding and whistling at you as soon as you pulled away from the deep kiss. You and Kun both had flustered expressions stretched across your faces when you saw the smudged lipstick stains on both of your lips, panting for air as you stared wide eyed at each other. You were also sure Kun had run off to his own dressing room to save himself from any more teasing. (especially from Ten)

As soon as you locked the door to your dressing room, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating rapidly against your chest. The butterflies in your stomach swarming as if there was an earthquake, a giddy feeling bubbling up in your chest. You swore it took everything inside of you to not scream your emotions out into the bag you brought today, but you survived after drinking lots of water to calm yourself down (despite the fact that you could feel a giddy smile stretch across your lips whenever your mind wanders back to the soft makeout session you and Kun had merely moments ago.

“Hey, can we talk?” Kun’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, causing your head to shoot up from your leaning position on the table. Eyes wide as you both stared in awe at each other, feeling your hearts race when Kun coughed awkwardly to break the awkward tension settling in between the two of you. “I-” you were soon cut off by Kai, who popped out of nowhere to push you up to your feet with a mischievous grin stretched across her face.

“Of course, go ahead. Take your time, after all you are done here, right?” Kai gripped your shoulders tightly when you opened your mouth to speak, realising that for once in your life you didn’t know what to say in situations like this. “Right! Now, off you go!” She exclaimed with a soft giggle, shoving your bag in your hands before pushing you towards Kun, ignoring the death glare you were sending her as you followed Kun out of the theater room.

Kun shoved his hand in his pockets, racking through his brain to think of something to say to break the awkward tension. “So,” he started, wincing at how awkward he sounded before proceeding with his words. “Are we going to talk about what happened back there or?” Kun raised his brow at you, finally turning his head to make eye contact. You bit your lip nervously, looking down at your feet before gulping and looking back up at him.

“Not until you- you uh-,” you coughed, pointing a finger at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little- a little lipstick there, bro,” you quietly pointed out, internally cringing at how awkward you two were despite the fact that you were fine with shamelessly running away from him after confessing your crush on him with laughs and giggles in between. Kun’s eyes widened at your statement, wiping the corner of his lips with the back of his hand as he mumbled small apologies under his breath.

Kun paused when you finally told him that the lipstick was finally wiped off. “Did you just call me ‘bro’?” he deadpanned, furrowing his brows in confusion. The atmosphere slowly returning to normal upon his obvious question as your eyes widened in a panic. “I don’t know! I panicked! We’ve never had a post make out conversation before. Or a conversation that doesn’t involve you glaring daggers into my head, I swear if looks could kill,” you shot back, waving your hands around as Kun let out a light chuckle.

“So, do you like Messi?” you asked after a pregnant pause, clasping your hands behind your back with a small smile. Kun raised his brow at you, chuckling softly at your words. “Is that supposed to be a Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo reference?” he asked, letting out a soft giggle when you nodded shamelessly in response, wide smiles stretching on both of your lips as you looked down at your slightly dirty shoes.

“Can we talk now?” he asked, leaning his body against the wall as you both stared at each other in silence. Except, this time the silence was no longer awkward. Hell, it was almost comforting.

“Of course, yeah. Sure,” you nodded, trying to keep your cool as Kun took a step towards you. “Well, for starters, I really enjoyed- I mean- fuck,” Kun started, scrunching his face when he realised he was stumbling over his words, rubbing his face in frustration. “What I meant to say was I really liked kissing you,” he looked down nervously, eliciting a small smile from you as you had never seen the calm and collected Qian Kun this flustered in front of you. And you couldn’t even believe the fact that you were the one who was the main reason why he was like this.

“I don’t know if you meant what you said when you said you liked me before the performance, but fuck it. I really really like you and I really do want to be more than friends or club members,” Kun chuckled, swallowing his nerves down as he fiddled with his fingers in front of you, his dimples protruding on his cheeks as he gave you a cute, toothy smile. You couldn’t help but push your own nerves back to tease him, raising your brow as you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Is Qian Kun simping for me, right now?” you teased.

Kun let out a light laugh, shaking his head at you profusely at the sight of your own light expression. “I guess I am,” he shrugged with a staggering laugh, joining you in your small fit of giggles. “Well in that case, I’m just here waiting for you to pop the question,” you placed the back of your hands on your hips, giving him an encouraging smile despite the fact that your heart was beating oh-so-loudly in your ears.

At this point his eyes had turned into small moon shapes from how wide he was smiling and his cheeks were starting to hurt. “Pop the question? What is this? A marriage proposal?” he teased, raising his brow at you suggestively. Now it was his turn to tease you.

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” you smacked his arm jokingly, giggling along with him bashfully.

He took another step towards you, leaning towards you to grab your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours tightly. Giving your hand a loving squeeze, he took a deep breath as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “May I be your boyfriend, then?” he asked, a soft, boyish smile on his face. The happy glint in his eyes never leaving him as he stared lovingly into yours, taking in your features slowly as you giggled lightly.

“Whipped Kun hitting different,” you commented, eliciting a laugh from your senior as he squeezed your hand in his gingerly once again.

“Just say yes so I can kiss you again,” he rolled his eyes at you, his soft smile never leaving his face.

You puckered your lips gingerly, answering him with your actions as you waited for him to press his lips against yours. “I’m waiting, Kun,” you said with puckered lips, giggling softly. Kun let out a light hearted laugh (which was sure to add ten years to your life span the more you listen to it) as he commented on how uncharacteristically adorable you were being at that exact moment, earning a loud complaint from you as you frowned at him. “I guess you don’t want me to say yes,” you sighed heavily, sniffing for dramatics as you raised your free hand to your eyes to let out a fake cry.

“You’re so dramatic, I’m so close to taking it back,” Kun muttered under his breath before reaching over to cup your cheek with his free hand to turn your face back to face his. Pressing his lips against yours in a soft, passionate kiss, he smiled when he heard you giggle against his lips while squeezing his hand that was intertwined against yours at your sides.

¤ tagging: @kunrengui @chiffonymark @lebrookestore @leetaeyonglover @oifelixcmerebrou @fruityutas @vera-liscious @c-sanshine @thats-a-jen-no-no @coco-riki @stayzenniesstuff @stayctday @yunntext @qianinterprises @dreamyyang @channoticedmeuwu @caratinylyfe

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #neoturtles #neoculturecafe #nct x reader #wayv x reader #nct x you #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #wayv kun x reader #kun x reader #qian kun x reader #wayv qian kun x reader #wayv fluff #kun fluff #nct kun x reader #nct qian kun x reader

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bookstantrash · 4 years ago

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A/N: I am sorry for taking so much to post this chapter. I was suffering from a severe writer’s block and uni is driving me crazy.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake and Hooked on You, part one and part two of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

Shout out to @arinbelle for having requested THE rain scene present in the 2005 version. I had to change a few things to fit it in this fic, but I hope you like it nonetheless!!

Smells like petrichor and paper

“This is not what I was expecting”

Cassian dropped the pressed daisy chain he was holding, looking up to see none other than his brother, Azriel.

“Mother’s tits, brother! You gave me a fright! What are you doing here?” Cassian inquired, finding it strange to see the Chief of the Royal Intelligence at Pemberley when he had promptly disposed of him not three days ago.

“Good to see you too brother” Azriel snorted, sitting in front of him “ I thought you had left all your work at the office”

Cassian glanced at the piles of paper on his table. He was currently in his study, a place he usually avoided when he was at Pemberley unless he had any remaining work from his office to do. No wonder Azriel was surprised to see him there.

“This is not work” he said, arranging the papers and putting them in the drawer, along with the daisy chain.

Cassian did not want Azriel inquiring after the delicate object. Not after his brother had seen how affected by Nesta he was. Azriel would probably tease him about having pressed the daisy chain and made a bookmark out of it, pity on his eyes.

“For what do I owe the pleasure of having your delightful presence here?” he inquired.

“Good to see you missed me” Azriel said “Me and Georgie thought it would be better to come and see if you were alive.”

“Georgiana is here?”

Cassian had not seen his younger sister in a while now. He missed his dear sister deeply.

“She said she would look at your horses and decide which she would take for herself after you were declared dead” his brother smirked “She will be quite sad to know you are alive”

He took back his words.

He did not miss the wild brat at all.

“Let’s wait for that devil at the parlor. I have some guests that are due to arrive any minute now”

“Guests?” Azriel asked in surprise as they left Cassian’s study “I came here expecting to find you wallowing in self-pity but instead you are expecting guests? Do enlighten me brother”

“Lady Nesta and her friends are coming” Cassian mumbled, passing by Lumière — his kind hearted but rebellious maître d' who likes to annoy Cogsworth — requesting him to warn Mrs.Potts to bring the refreshments earlier, given Azriel and Georgiana’s unexpected visit.

“What was that again?” Azriel stumbled over a chair, his head snapping so fast in Cassian’s direction that he swore he had heard a cracking sound.

“Lady Nesta Archeron and some friends of hers are coming today” Cassian answered, sitting down and hoping his sister’s inquiries would not be as bothersome as Azriel’s.

“You invited her all the way to Pemberley?”

“Cauldron no! I arrived at Pemberley and they were visiting the state” Cassian laughed in disbelief “She did not even know I was the owner. They came yesterday and we went fishing on the property.”

“And she is coming back again?” his brother raised an eyebrow in question.

“I am showing them the rest of the state, nothing more” Cassian was glad Azriel had not read the papers on his desk, least his brother see the bullet list he had written down, which consisted of places he planned to show Nesta and her friends, not to say the rest of his planning for the day.

He had to make Azriel believe he was completely over Nesta Archeron.

Nevermind that could not be the furthest from the truth.

Nevermind he was so enamoured with her he had pressed the daisy chain she had given him and turned it into a bookmark.

Cassian did not know if he would ever get anything from Nesta again.

So he was going to treasure what she was willing to give him now. Even if it was not enough.

Even if his heart yearned for more with each passing moment he spent in her presence.

“You wear your heart for all to see, brother” Azriel said, a knowing look on his face “I just worry you end up hurt because of it.”

“Good thing you will be here to put it back together, right?” Cassian gave him a sly grin, wanting to not worry his brother with his hopeless love life.

They were interrupted by the door opening and Mrs.Potts arriving with tea and pastries, Georgiana right behind the head maid.

“Oh, you are alive” his fifteen yeard old sister declared, a sad look on her face that made Cassian almost believe her, were it not for the small dimple on the corner of her mouth, which always appeared when she was trying not to smile.

Georgiana had always been a good actress, Rhysand having jokingly said on more than one occasion she should join the theater were she not to marry.

“That is how you greet your favourite brother?” Cassian said, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Currently, Azriel is my favourite brother” Georgiana announced, sitting on the couch beside him, her pale pink dress fanning around her “He bought me a strawberry cake yesterday”

“But I have some double dipped chocolate cookies right here” Cassian thanked Mrs.Potts, who gave Georgiana a plate with them, winking at his sister before leaving the room.

“Sorry Zizi, Cassian is my favourite now” she said, taking a huge bite of one cookie.

Cassian laughed at that, Azriel smiling at the nickname. Georgiana could not say his name when she was younger, sticking with Zizi until she was ten years old.

He could not help but feel a little sad to see his baby sister all grown up. Soon she would be entering society and start being courted. Not that either him or his brothers would give her hand for just anybody, and Georgie was free to choose to not marry at all. She had that privilege being the sister of a duke and the two of the highest ranking people at the Queen’s service. No one would dare and say a thing were Georgie to be a spinster or really join a theater company.

“My Lord,” Cogsworth interrupted his wandering thoughts, entering the parlor “Your guests have arrived.”

“And the ladies look very pretty” Lumière teased, earning an elbow on the ribs by Cogsworth.

Cassian for once did not laugh at their usual bickering, having sat straighter and looking at the door, holding his breath.

The ladies were indeed very pretty, courtesy of Emerie of course. Although today she had chosen to wear a dress, it was once again unique. With long see through sleeves, pearls and light turquoise flowers on the bodice of a dress in the same colour — a matching long scarf taking the attention off the gown’s deep neckline — and a big transparent hat with the same palette of colour on her head, Cassian could not blame Georgiana’s wide eyed look at Emerie, who was for sure nothing like any other lady his sister had ever seen.

Gwyn wore a gown with the same off shoulder design as last time, but with short sleeves and three quarters lace gloves. Her hair was once again free and held back only by a merigold ribbon, the same colour as her dress. Cassian wondered if she had a matching dress for each ribbon she wore, and how she could possibly have so many ribbons.

But as soon as Nesta came into view, Cassian forgot all about ribbons and the others present in the parlor. He could not understand how she looked more beautiful each time he saw her, and they had parted for less than a day. She wore a tawny gown with sleeves that reached her elbows and that had ruffles at their end, the rest of her arm bare.

Nesta Archeron wore no gloves.

That fact alone had Cassian’s heart beating harder.

“Brother, will you introduce us to your guests?” Georgiana said, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

“Of course, right away” clearing his throat and standing up, Cassian introduced the party of five, his sister clapping her hands and exclaiming in delight when she heard Gwyn’s name.

“Oh! I cannot believe I am meeting the prima donna of the year! It is an honour”

“Thank you” Gwyn blushed, still not used to all the attention.

“My brother Azriel is a big fan of your singing” Georgiana said with a sly smile, the only one who had noticed that her usually quiet brother had a ribbon of the same exact colour as the one in the singer’s hair tied around his black hat “He has been to nearly all of your shows if I reckon correctly.”

“I– You– I mean” Azriel stuttering was something so out of the ordinary that Cassian had to bite his knuckles to avoid laughing out loud.

“I am but a simple appreciator of the fine arts” Azriel said, avoiding Gwyn’s eyes.

“It pleases me to know someone so important has time to appreciate my music” the opera singer replied, her blush deeping.

“Please, have a seat” Cassian managed to say, still holding his laughter “My staff prepared some refreshments.”

They all obliged, Nesta sitting directly in front of him.

“I am tempted to steal your staff, sir” Emerie declared, her eyes shining when she spotted the strawberry tart.

“I will have to agree with Emerie this time” Balthazar said between bites of a ham sandwich “Your hospitality and service is the best I have seen”

Cassian’ staff had once again outdid themselves. He did not know how, but they had managed to assemble all of his guests favourite foods and drinks. Were they secretly part of his brother’s web of spies?

“I will pass the message to them. They will be very happy to hear that.” he said, going out of his way to pour Nesta a cup of peppermint tea.

“Thank you, your grace” she said, taking the cup from him, their fingers brushing.

Cassian thanked the Mother that Nesta did not wear gloves today. Little did he know it was all part of Emerie’s plan to get them together.

“So Lady Nesta is the reason you were mopping?” Georgiana asks him, hiding her smile behind her cup of tea.

“I beg your pardon” Cassian blurted out, glancing at the lady in question to make sure she had not heard the comment.

“You and Lady Nesta. Azriel and Miss Berdara” she threw a knowing glance at her other brother “Am I on the way to gaining two sisters?”

That last comment had both gentlemen spitting their drinks out.

“Careful brothers, the tea is quite hot” Georgiana said, gently blowing her own drink.

Cassian exchanged an exasperated glance with Azriel, imagining just how much more embarrassing situations his sister would put them through.

Thankfully, the rest of their tea time went uninterrupted. Cassian was really anxious to show them the rest of his home, apart from what was usually open to the public.

“Would you like to start the tour? It is a once in a lifetime chance to know all the secrets Pemberley has”

“Oh, do you have any secret passages? I always wondered if what they wrote in the books was true or just make believe” Gwyn said with an almost childlike gleam in her eyes.

“Only one way to know” Cassian answered, winking.

“Brother, may I show Mr. Oristian and Madame Emerie our stables?” Georgiana asked, and he could not help but wonder what she was planning “I take he will appreciate your fine breed horses, and I would like to request Madame Emerie to design me new riding clothes”

“I see no reason to object, as long as our guests agree with the decision” he replied.

“Glance at the General’s famous horses? Count me in” Balthazar said, having heard how special the General Commander’s horses were.

“What an amazing idea young lady! You’re very lucky I never go out without my sketch journal!” Emerie exclaimed in delight, having caught up on Georgiana’s plan “I shall make the most memorable clothes ever!”

“My brothers will be happy to pay any price for them, will you not dear brothers?” the young lady blinked innocently.

“Anything for you Georgie” Azriel said, already planning to send the bill to Rhsyand.

They promptly went their separate ways, Georgiana leading Balthazar and Emerie towards the stables, taking Emerie’s arms on hers like life long friends, conspiratory smiles in both their faces.

~•~

First stop, the library.

Cassian knew it was a common visiting spot, but it was shown briefly so the visitors would have time to do a tour of the whole state.

“Are the ladies prepared?” Cassian asked with suspense, his hand hovering on the doorknob.

Nesta and Gwyn nodded, and he opened the door with a flourish.

“I present you, Pemberley’s library”

The library in Pemberley had already been famous when Cassian acquired the state. Apparently, the previous owner had been so in love with his wife — which had a frail health and could not go out for too long — that he had built it for her as a gift. The lord sold the state after his wife passed away, the only request that the library was kept as it was. Cassian was secretly a romantic at heart, and had not only taken great care of the space since becoming its new owner, but also added his own books to the already big collection.

“It’s beautiful” Gwyn exclaimed, looking around, particularly intrigued by the painted ceiling, which portrayed scenes so beautiful they looked almost real to the touch.

Nesta was awfully quiet since he had opened the door, and he dared to steal a glance at her. But all thoughts that she had not liked the place went flying out of his head when he saw her expression.

For the first time, Nesta could not hide her emotions and expressions about what she was feeling. She had a hand over her heart, her breath knocked out her. When Mrs.Potts had shown them the place, it had been a rushed visit and she had not been able to really look at it.

But now she could not look away.

Nesta turned in circles, drinking it all in, from the floor to ceiling light brown shelves — stairs leaning on them to help reach the highest ones — to the statues, maps and other decorations around the room.

Looked at the couches and tables distributed to accommodate the readers.

She blinked, trying desperately not to make a fool out of herself and cry. There were so many books, the smell of paper filling her lungs.

Gwyn and Azriel moved along the place, the first one eager to explore it and Cassian took the opportunity to bashfully stare at Nesta.

She looked the happiest he had ever seen her, not even daring to blink least she lost some important detail of the library.

“This is beautiful” she finally managed, turning around to see Cassian looking at her with so much adoration and some feeling she could not quite place in his eyes.

“I am glad you like it” he smiled at her, Nesta’s heart missing a beat “You may come here and read as many as you like whenever you are nearby.”

“I do not want to impose” she said.

“Nonsense” Cassian waved a hand, dismissing her worries “The library is quite lonely since I am most of the time away”

“That would be wonderful. I cannot thank you enough”

“Having a stroll near the garden with me would be enough payment” he offered, knowing he was testing his luck.

Cassian tried to forget how their last stroll in the garden had been like. He would not act as stupid as last time and jeopardize it all.

“Nesta! There are music books here!” Gwyn appeared before Nesta could answer him, clutching a book to her chest “I have been searching for this one for so long!”

“Miss Berdara was indeed very happy when she spotted it '' Azriel informed with a small smile, recalling how the singer had squealed in excitement.

Gwyn blushed, looking away from the gentleman beside her.

“Why don’t we move on with our tour and rest a little at the music room?” Cassian suggested “I have just bought a pianoforte that must be begging to be used”

“Azriel can accompany you, he is a well versed pianist” he added slyly, having seen how his brother was unusually flushed when close to the opera singer.

“You play?” Gwyn asked in surprise.

“No. I mean, yes but-” the Chief of the Royal Intelligence cleared his throat, his ears warming “I do play a bit, but not on the professional level.”

“How wonderful!” Nesta exclaimed “Why don’t you show Gwyn the music room? I am feeling quite hot, so Lord Cassian and I will step outside for a bit.”

Cassian could not believe his ears. Had Nesta Archeron truly accepted his offer?

“It is decided then! Please, show me the way Mr. Pianist” Gwyn said, taking Azriel by the arm before he could remember how to talk, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

The library door closed behind them, leaving Nesta and Cassian alone since their dreadful encounter at Feyre’s ball.

“Shall we then?” he said after a while, breaking the silence.

“Is there another route to the garden?” Nesta asked, furrowing her browns in confusion when Cassian walked away from the big oak door Gwyn and Azriel had exited the library by.

He gave her a boyish smile, full of mischief.

“Ready to find out if what I said about secret passages is true?”

Stopping in front of a normal looking shelf, he felt the wood until a clicking sound was heard and the shelf revealed itself to be actually a door that opened to reveal a staircase spiraling down.

“Lead the way” Nesta answered, chin held high as she walked in his direction.

~•~

The rain came out of nowhere. One minute Cassian was watching Nesta play with his hunting dogs — who were in truth very sweet despite their rough and menacing appearance — like the fool in love that he was and the next they were drenched down to their bones.

“There’s a greenhouse not too far!” he tried to say above the pouring rain “Come with me!”

Clasping their hands, Cassian quickly led them to take cover there, as they were too far from the main state.

He let a sigh of relief when he saw the greenhouse, taking no time opening the door and ushering Nesta in.

They could see the rain falling heavily outside through the glass panels, different kinds of flowers and herbs all around them, making it seem as if they were in a magic forest.

“That was a surprise” Cassian said “It has been a while since it rained this hard”

He looked at Nesta, water dripping from his hair and he found her staring at their still clasped hands.

“I am sorry” he exclaimed, dropping her hand even though his mind shouted at him to never let her go.

“Here, take my coat” Cassian added, putting it around her shoulders “I would not want to be the reason of you falling sick”

“T-thank you” Nesta said, momentarily distracted by the fact that Cassian’s white shirt had become see-through due to the rain.

Against her better wishes, her thoughts wandered back to the day she had seen him shirtless and dripping wet by the lake, the same funny feeling low in her stomach reappearing as she followed a droplet of water fall from his shoulder length hair and run down his neck.

Nesta was so distracted she froze in shock when he raised his hand, brushing her wet hair away from where it was sticking to her face. His fingers lingered on her skin — Nesta once again wondering how he could still be so warm despite the cold rain — and she gasped, half from how weirdly attractive he looked and half from pain.

“You are hurt” Cassian quietly said, his fingers hovering above a small cut on her neck.

“It is just a scratch” she replied in the same voice tone, not wanting to break whatever was happening between them “A thorn must have scratched me when we passed by the bushes near the entrance”

They were improperly close, with Cassian looking down at her as he tilted her chin to let him better access the wound. The greenhouse was quiet, no sound but the rain falling outside filling the air.

“It is nothing” she assured him, her own hand coming up to close around his wrist “It does not even hurt that much.”

Nesta did not know how she was talking when even breathing seemed a too difficult task at the moment. She was hyper aware of where their skin was touching, of the heat she felt all over her body, goosebumps running down her arms when Cassian pressed his lips tenderly against her temple.

“You do not appear to have a fever” he murmured, his breath tickling her temple “But maybe it would be wiser to stay the night. I will send a carriage to get your things and your friends’ too. Alright?”

“Alright” Nesta breathless replied, the rain outside slowly turning into a mild drizzle.

Pemberley had just gained new residents.

How Cassian was going to survive living with Nesta for a short period of time was something that remained to be seen.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @alinaleksanders @lysandra-tiara9 @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam @castielspelvis @firebirdofscythia @illyrianundercover

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#nessian #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #pride and prejudice AU #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm fanfic

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ryqoshay · 3 years ago

Text

Putting on Hairs: Secrets Revealed

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.8k Rating: G, probably, mild T at worst AU: Theater, Werewolf, Monster, Cryptid

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Author’s Note: Welp, guess it’s not a one shot after all…

Summary: Nico isn’t the only one.

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What the heck?

That was all Maki could think as she sat on a small couch in the dressing room of the woman she was supposed to be starring alongside. Said woman, one Yazawa Nico, purported rising star in the theater world, was currently sitting in her lap. As a dog. A Pomeranian breed dog, to be exact. And Maki had been instructed by some purple haired woman, who apparently already knew her name and felt comfortable calling her Maki-chan, to pet the dog.

What. The. Heck.

Maki had completely forgotten the question she had intended to ask of her costar. Of course, it didn’t help that everywhere she looked she saw pink. Or flowers. Or other little trinkets Nico had likely received over the years. Or pictures of Nico. By the gods, there were dozens of pictures.

Nico had obviously been acting since childhood as Maki picked out various younger versions of the raven-haired do… woman. But so had Maki, and her parents hadn’t taken nearly as many pictures. Granted, they had been busy with their own work and it had not been uncommon for the only familiar faces for her in the audience to be members of the household staff, usually their estate manager. But still...

Smooth.

Maki was distracted from her thoughts when her fingers found what felt like smooth skin instead of soft fur. She looked down…

“Y-Yazawa-san…” She stammered, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.

Crimson eyes opened and Nico turned her head up to meet Maki’s gaze.

It took a moment for the situation to register, but when it did, Nico’s eyes widened.

“Kyaa!” Nico cried, shoving herself off Maki and the couch.

Nico landed on her back on the floor, twisted herself up to her hands and knees and scrambled around the clothing rack to hide. There, she grabbed the first garment her hand found and started to put it on. Thankfully, it happened to be a simple sundress that she was able to pull over her head and be presentable enough for her purposes.

“S-Sorry about…” Nico paused to clear her throat, hoping to alleviate her stutter. “Sorry about that, Nishikino-san.” She moved back out from behind the rack. “I suppose Nozomi would want me to thank you for… Hey, are you alright?” She moved toward the couch.

“I’m… fine…” Maki insisted.

“You sure? I know some folks have significant blushes, but geez your face literally matches your hair. It’s made it to your ears… your neck. What the… your arms and hands even?” Wait, what was that? Nico leaned closer. “Holy Amaterasu… you’re burning up!”

“I’m… fine…”

“No, you’re not. I can feel it from here. I don’t even need to put my hand on your forehead. Geez, I’ve taken my siblings to the hospital with lesser fevers. Just what the heck are you? And do I need to drag you off my couch before you ignite it?”

“…” Maki hunched her shoulders, seeming to withdraw into herself.

Nico sighed and put a hand on her hip. “Look, you’ve already seen that I’m a werewolf. And I didn’t need Nozomi to tell me you’re not human either; I can smell the difference.” She tapped her nose. “And right now, I’m getting something new. Is that sulfur? Brimstone? Are you a demon?”

“S-salamander…” Maki muttered, her face managing to become an even brighter shade of red.

“Salamander?” Nico mentally skimmed through what she knew. “You mean like Charmander?”

“Close enough, I guess…”

“Oh? Show me.”

“Wha?!” Maki balked, sitting up with enough force she managed to tip the couch back a bit.

Nico held back a chuckle. “Show me.”

“Wh-wh-why?!”

“Like I said, you already saw my werewolf form. It’s only fair I get to see your salamander form.”

“Uuuehhh….” Maki let out one of the most adorable sounds Nico had heard in a long while.

“Besides, if we going to be costars in this show, we shouldn’t have secrets between us. Right?”

“… Fine…”

Almost immediately, Maki’s skin gained a sheen that made it almost appear wet, like she had just stepped out of a warm shower. Then her eyes changed, gaining a fiery brilliance. And finally, the young woman began to shrink.

And shrink.

Nico couldn’t help reaching down and poking at a lump in Maki’s shirt she assumed to be her. Sure enough, the lump moved, and out of the collar skittered a tiny, red amphibian. However, when it looked up at Nico with those amethyst eyes, as bright as they were, there was no doubt she was looking at Maki.

Nico couldn’t help reaching out a hand. Slowly, tentatively, Maki stepped up onto her fingers. Nico then lifted the lizard up closer to her face.

“You’re cute like this, Maki-chan.” She couldn’t help using the familiar term, despite having not even known the other woman for ten minutes.

Immediately, intense heat radiated off the crimson creature. Not quite hot enough to burn Nico, but definitely reaching into uncomfortable levels. Still, the amusement factor alone was enough for Nico to bear the heat.

A knock sounded at the door.

Maki jumped off Nico’s hand and slipped back into her shirt.

“Nico-chan?” A voice called from the other side.

“Yeah, coming…” Nico responded, wondering if she should hide Maki’s clothes first, with her still in them. Well, they weren’t easily visible from the door, what with the arm of the couch blocking the pile, so maybe it was fine? “Ah, Minami-san.” She said, recognizing the woman on the other side as she opened the door.

“Oh, that sounds too formal.” Kotori said laughing lightly. “Just Kotori is fine. Anyway, I’m here to deliver these samples.” She handed over a neatly folded stack of textiles. “Please let me know which ones you like best so Yoshiko-chan and I can get to work on your outfits.”

“Alright.” Nico nodded.

“And I see you’re already trying out some of our finished works.” Kotori commented. “Although we may have to make some adjustments to the measurements Nozomi-chan gave us for you.” She reached out and tugged at one of the shoulder straps, indicating a looseness below.

Nico grimaced. Of course, Nozomi would change some of the numbers to mess with her. “So you guys already made all those?” She indicated the rack she had hid behind moments ago.

“Ye…” Kotori cutoff as she noticed something. “Except that one.” She pointed as if Nico could figure out what she meant just by that. “Honoka-chan insisted on buying that one online for us to use as reference. I told her not to, and it definitely wasn’t supposed to end up here for you to see.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, that is not representative of the quality standard Yoshiko-chan and I are capable of producing.”

Wait, did she mean that tacky werewolf… thing? Nico wondered. The thing I was just about to complain about? “So, it’s just a reference?” She asked aloud, suddenly thankful she wouldn’t actually have to wear it.

“Yes.” Kotori nodded. “I figured we didn’t need anything like that, because we could just use Nico-chan herself as our reference, because you’re, well… you know.” She motioned to the raven-haired woman.

“Right… You know, I’m surprised someone as talented as you is working at a startup theater like this.”

“Oh, it’s fine. After all, I’m returning a favor to Umi-chan.” Kotori said with a wide smile.

That’s right, Nico recalled, Sonoda Umi was one of the cofounders and co-owners of the theater, along with Kurosawa Dia.

“Although even without the favor,” Kotori continued, wistfully “I’d still be here, so I could work with Umi-chan on this wonderful project.”

Wait, that tone and expression. Were Kotori and Umi together? Now there was some celebrity news that seemed to have slipped through the cracks. Interesting.

“Anyway, back to work.” Kotori chirped merrily. “See you two later.” With that she practically skipped down the hall toward the costume department.

“You can change back now, she’s gone.” Nico said aloud, closing the door. “Though I think she knew you were here anyway. I’ll keep my back turned until you’re dressed.”

After a moment, Nico heard rustling of cloth behind her.

“Alright, you can turn around now, Yazawa-san.”

“Nico is fine.” Nico said, turning to find a still somewhat flustered redhead.

“Alright… Say, what is that.” Maki motioned to something at Nico’s feet.

“Mm?” Nico looked down to find a feather and stooped to pick it up. “Well, I guess that confirms the rumor…”

“Rumor?”

“About Minami Kotori being a crane.”

“She is?”

“Oh c’mon, I know you can sense others like I can.”

“Well, yeah” Maki admitted “but only at close range…”

“And you were pretty close when I thought you were being an entitled brat by how adamant you were about fabric types for your outfits.”

“I… wha… You saw that?”

“Yup. I was wondering what all the commotion was about, so I went to check.”

“I wasn’t raising a commotion.” Maki furrowed her brow. “And I was definitely not being entitled, just cautious.”

“Yeah, I know that now.” Nico made dismissive motions with her hands. “Your salamander heat thing. Certainly wouldn’t want to be melting polyester on yourself or whatever. That said, I believe Kotori’s more than capable of imbuing anything she makes with super special heat resistant properties for someone like Maki-chan.”

“Oh? How?”

“Didn’t you hear when I just said she was a crane?”

“Well, yeah, but that just means she’s a bird?”

“What the heck, Maki-chan?” Nico huffed. “Did your parents not teach you about your history? Our history? Monsters and cryptids and mythic beasts and such?”

“Not really…”

“So, you’ve never heard about the crane who returns favors.”

Maki shook her head.

Nico sighed. What kind of parents did this girl have? “She weaves her own feathers into her works, which imbues them with special properties. And if the rumors are true, she’s training her assistant to do the same with hers. Yoshiko? Yohane? Something like that, I haven’t met her yet.”

“Is she a crane as well?”

“Fallen angel. She’s pretty adamant about it too, and really doesn’t do too much to hide it.” Nico shrugged. “Probably for the best that the normies around here don’t believe such things very easily. They just think she’s weird, a chuunibyou or whatever. But folks like you and I…”

“Right…”

“Anyway, they’re making everything antistatic for me.”

Maki giggled. “For you weredog thing?”

“Weredog?” Nico growled, earning a flinch from the redhead. “I’m a werewolf! And don’t you forget it!”

“Oops, did I come in at a bad time?” Nozomi asked as she let herself in.

“No, you’re fine.” Nico grumbled, still glaring at Maki. “What do you want?”

“The managers want everyone to gather on stage for a meeting.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. C’mon, Nishikino.” Nico had to put conscious effort into not stomping toward the door. The last thing she needed now was to transform again.

“… Right…” Maki replied with no small amount of disappointment in her tone, before following the other two women into the hall.

----------

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #AU August #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Love Live #fanfic

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aphrodites-law · 5 years ago

Text

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (6/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

Pretending things hadn't changed might've been the dumbest thing Clarke had ever agreed to do. When Lexa dropped in the following days, sometimes in the morning and other times in the afternoon, Clarke knew there was no going back to whatever their normal had been.

This was the woman she'd shared a vision with - that didn't go away after one rushed conversation. But Lexa seemed to choose the busiest moments and Clarke couldn't exactly leave Gaia and Harper to manage the orders so she could pick Lexa Woods' brain.

It was the doodles she thought about the most. Lexa had mentioned seeing some framed, but Clarke didn't have anything like that at her place. She had sketches and portraits from college lying around in closets and pressed between the pages of the books on her coffee table, but that was it. The only piece she'd framed had been a charcoal landscape her dad had liked and specifically requested for his birthday. Clarke didn't frame any of her art, let alone doodles. Those were for her own piece of mind; a way to entertain herself when all the coffee machines were cleaned, all their customers were happy, and the phone was quiet.

So what could she have possibly scribbled that would be worth framing? And how far in the future could it be?

Clarke was pondering the very question while she went through stock in the back of the café. It was a small, cramped room with her desk in a corner, but it was tidy and, most importantly, it was quiet. Until people bust in announced, that was.

"Hey!"

Clarke clutched her heart. "Raven, oh my God! Why do you hate knocking so much?"

Raven laughed. "Because then I miss that look on your face."

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"It's 6:30pm and you didn't answer my text about the party."

"It is?" Clarke glanced at her watch. "Fuck." She focused back on Raven and vaguely remembered the email she'd gotten earlier this week. Octavia and Lincoln were having a housewarming party tonight and had invited her. Clarke knew she'd clicked on it but the café had gotten a call at the same time and she'd forgotten about it after. She didn't know Octavia or Lincoln beyond meeting them once, so she was fairly certain they'd invited her on Raven's request.

"I forgot. I'm not going," she decided.

"It was rhetorical, grandma!" Raven exclaimed. "Wells and I are stopping by his parents for a bite and then we're picking you up. It starts at nine."

Clarke shook her head. "I barely know these people."

Raven paused. "You know what? I'm not doing this again. You don't want to go, that's fine."

"Raven."

"No, I'm serious. I'm not responsible for your social life anymore. I quit."

Clarke crossed her arms. "For someone who works in a theater you're a really shitty actress."

Raven narrowed her eyes at her. Clarke held her gaze before huffing and throwing her hands up. "Fine. I'll go."

Raven smirked. "Pick you up at 8:45. Oh and I'm pretty sure Lexa will be there. Bye!"

"What? Raven!"

Clarke was in a grumpy mood that entire evening, pulling clothes out of her closet and putting them back in for a good thirty minutes before she settled on what to wear. She didn't get like this. She knew what worked on her body and what made her look like a potato sack barely stitched together. This wasn't a date or even an intimate get-together. It was going to be an apartment packed with new faces and most likely very little room to walk around, let alone take in what people were wearing beyond blotches of fabric and color. With that in mind, she stuck to a navy blue dress and a sweater, having spotted some angry clouds on her way home. She grabbed her coat when Raven called to tell her they were waiting in their car, and was out the door after taking a deep breath.

There was absolutely no reason to be nervous.

* * *

Octavia and Lincoln's apartment in the Green Strip was on the highest floor of their building, a spacious three bedroom with earthy tones and wooden furniture. There was something immediately welcoming about it when Clarke stepped inside behind Wells and Raven, smiling at Octavia when they were all greeted with a hug.

"You made it," Octavia beamed, soon ushering them into another room where they could put their coats.

They were directed to the living room, a wide open floor plan with the kitchen on one side. Tall windows opened to a balcony, still empty from what Clarke could see. The room was already buzzing with at least twenty people, some that Clarke recognized from the night at Barton, others not at all. She could see why Octavia and Lincoln would want to show off the place - it was perfect for entertaining.

"See Wells, this is a couple's place, not your den beneath the ground," Raven elbowed him playfully.

"You like my den. You moved into my den," Wells reminded her.

"Only because you're freakishly clean and it always smells like apple pie."

Octavia laughed. "Trust me, you have it good. It took Linc' and I forever to settle on a place together."

"Is it pure coincidence you're this far from the Polis Hotel?" Raven asked jokingly.

Lincoln rubbed the back of his head with a smile. "I appreciate my heritage, but some distance from it never hurts. Besides, this is close to Octavia's work and I can write anywhere."

Octavia gave his arm a gentle squeeze, their eyes locking while Raven fussed with the collar of Wells' shirt. Clarke was used to it by now - feeling like the third or fifth wheel, that was - but it didn't prevent her heart from sinking a little bit. The front door buzzer seemed like her saving grace from the display of domestic bliss.

"Please, feel free to grab a beer, wine, chips - we've got it all!" Octavia told them before darting away.

Raven grabbed Clarke's arm. "Let's leave the men to find common ground," she said, giving Wells a subtle wink before ushering Clarke toward the drinks set up in the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Clarke asked.

"Wells thinks Lincoln is going to be the next playwright superstar. He's crushing hard."

"He hasn't even seen his play yet."

Raven poured herself a glass of red. "Octavia sent us a copy of the script after I told her about his birthday gift. Wells practically peed himself when he opened the email."

"Cute."

"You know him, he only read the first ten pages to preserve the theatergoing experience."

They shared a knowing look and laughed. "Nerd," they both said affectionately.

Raven glanced over Clarke’s shoulder and then smiled widely. "Speaking of nerds, yours seems to be having a ball."

Clarke turned around in confusion. When two people moved, she caught a glimpse of Lexa in a plaid shirt sitting on a couch alone, head down while she typed something on her phone.

"Definitely not mine," Clarke muttered while grabbing a beer on the table.

"What do you think is her deal?" Raven asked.

"I don't know. It's none of my business."

Lexa had shown at the Polis Hotel she could be the center of attention if she wanted, so Clarke had given up on guessing.

Raven arched a brow. "You want it to be, don't you?"

"I'm not going to pine over someone who isn't sure if they want me or not."

Raven took her shoulders and turned her around to face the room. "Good thing there's other eligible people here. And we're talking crew; that's carpenters and painters and electricians - plenty of talented, rough hands to make your dreams come true."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "I should've never told you."

"You started a business from the ground up. I know you have it in you to charm the pants and skirts off of everyone here."

"Raven. I don't want..."

"What? What do you want, Clarke?"

Unsure how to even start answering, Clarke took a sip of her beer and shook her head. "Forget it. Let's just have a good time."

Raven squeezed her shoulder. "Let me make sure my boyfriend hasn't started sweating his ass off."

"You really make him sound so lovely."

Raven laughed. "Yep, and he's all mine!"

* * *

No one started a business without some talent in schmoozing. Raven was right about that. But it was one thing to be driven by passion and another to be driven by... well, Clarke wasn't entirely sure. She knew her dry spell wasn't sustainable, as evidenced by how tense she felt most of the time, but the end of her casual relationship with Niylah hadn't been for no reason either. Casual wasn't what she wanted anymore.

So tonight she'd learned some names and talked about her café, laughed at jokes and listened to stories, a lot of them about the visions, still the go-to topic that could last for hours. But inevitably Clarke knew she'd be asked about hers, which was why she discreetly excused herself from a group before it could come to that.

She was sipping on her second beer when the person whose gaze she'd carefully avoided all night approached her.

"Hello."

Clarke turned from her spot by the wall, her grip on her beer tightening. "This is a surprise. I thought you were hiding in some other room."

Lexa shrugged. "Stay too long in one spot and someone is bound to notice you. Theater people can be… enthusiastic after one too many drinks."

"Something tells me it's not just theater people you keep at arm's length."

Clarke saw something flash on Lexa's face, almost like hurt. It was true though - Clarke had never seen Lexa with a friend. She'd always come to the shop alone; sat alone; worked alone. She'd never been around with a colleague either on her lunch breaks, which told Clarke she possibly kept her life carefully split. Clearly she hung out with her cousin and his entourage, but didn't she have a Wells or Raven in her own life?

"Well, I'm here now. I was hoping we could get to know each other," Lexa said.

Clarke looked away with a curt laugh. "You don't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Feel obliged to talk to me because you go to my coffee shop. We don't need to make weird small talk because we're at the same party."

"That's a bit harsh."

Clarke's head snapped toward her. "Harsh?"

"'Weird small-talk' - is that what we do?" Lexa asked.

"I think you made it pretty clear there is no we."

"Lex!" Octavia called out, prompting her to turn around.

Octavia walked toward her with one of the houseguests, an older man with salt and pepper hair.

"This is Semet. We were just talking about his vision- I think you want to hear him out."

He smiled at her. "Octavia told me you were compiling stories?"

Clarke felt she was the odd one out and slipped away.

"Oh uh, yes, I am," Lexa told him, briefly looking over her shoulder before she extended her hand. "I'm Lexa."

Clarke didn't hear the rest, but as she saw the various groups of people talking, she felt out of place. Even Wells and Raven were deep in conversation with another couple, his hand casually resting on her waist.

The party was nice, and Lincoln and Octavia couldn't have been more welcoming. They clearly kept good company and, in any other situation, Clarke might've been more comfortable easing her way into another conversation. As it was, she realized just how unsociable she'd been in the past year and habits died hard.

Feeling unsettled, she sneaked out the open front door for a breather. Raven's words after Barton came back to her - the deliberate choices she'd made to stay home instead of going out. She'd kept her distances and now it was no surprise she felt so rusty. Nothing had really changed aside from the café's opening. The change in lifestyle had been a shock, but Wells had worked just as hard as her - if not more, especially on their bakes - and had still managed to find a balance in his life. She'd never really asked him about it, assuming it was simply in his DNA to be absolutely brilliant at everything.

But Clarke wasn't horrible at managing her time either. It wouldn't be that difficult to have a life outside of her business, she could admit that much. She just hadn't put in the work and now it showed.

Dipping her toe back in the dating pool felt daunting. She'd never tried dating apps and couldn't imagine putting her energy into that. Harper was on three different ones and from the chats she'd overheard with Gaia, it always seemed like an endless struggle of deciding what was appropriate and what wasn't.

Clutching her beer close, Clarke spotted a stairwell at her right and decided to try her luck. She made her way up and stepped out to the rooftop. There was an area with planter boxes and some chairs, which Clarke figured had to be communal. It was a pretty relaxing setup and she was sure summer saw a lot of tenants up here, but the promise of rain and the chilly wind tonight left it empty.

Unperturbed, Clarke walked to the area and stood by the tall parapet, resting her forearms on it. She took deep, calming breaths as she looked over the residential streets of Costial, the city she'd called home for ten years now. She could barely make out the mountain chain in the distance, but she knew it was there, majestic as ever surrounded by the sprawling forest. She briefly thought about the Mountain Men and how they'd survived for a century beneath the ground. What it must've felt like to see the same people every day, to never meet a stranger, or to never feel the sun on their faces.

"So maybe you don't like small-talk with anyone."

Clarke didn't need to turn around to know that voice by now. "I just needed some air for a few minutes."

Lexa leaned against the parapet next to her, though with a good three feet between them.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I was thinking about the Mountain Men actually. How abandoned they must've felt."

Lexa looked toward the horizon, where the mountains hid in the night. "They were forgotten, but I don't think they dwelled on it. You'd be surprised how many good stories I had to leave out to fit my report. Memories about times where their parents and their grandparents laughed, kissed each other, and danced together. People are resilient no matter the cards they're dealt. They made lives for themselves - different from ours, but who's to say they were any less fulfilling?"

Clarke turned to her, not knowing what to say for a moment. It didn’t escape her that Lexa seemed to genuinely want to engage with her.

"It must've been fascinating to listen to them."

"It was. Opening the channels of communication took time, but I went into journalism for these stories."

"Have they had visions?" Clarke asked, curious.

Lexa shook her head before taking a sip of her own beer. "I didn't ask. It wasn't appropriate at the time and looking back I know it would've made them uncomfortable. They're very… spiritual. Connected to the world in a way we could never be. I'm sure their insight would be fascinating, but some lines shouldn't be crossed."

Clarke lifted her bottle. "I'll drink to that."

Lexa smiled back, drinking another sip of her own.

"So did Semet say anything that throws a wrench in your theories?" Clarke wondered.

Lexa chuckled and looked over at the city again. "He gave me his number to talk further, but he did mention he wasn't in it. Only saw his brother."

Clarke's eyebrows rose. "His brother?"

"Hm-mm. That got my attention too. I don't think I've ever heard about someone not being in their own vision."

"Seems like we still have new things to learn."

Lexa considered her next words carefully. "Writing about people's visions has been… the most gratifying experience of my career. It's pushed me to think differently and it's changed the way I work."

Clarke could tell it wasn't easy for Lexa to talk about it. Not her work, but the way it made her feel. Maybe it was just a morsel, but she was opening up and it was more than Clarke had ever heard from her.

"I haven’t drawn any conclusions and I probably don't know any more than a blogger or someone's Twitter thread," Lexa continued with a small shrug. "But there's still a part of me that questions the degree of influence. I've heard too many stories about people being changed to their core to not be slightly wary."

Clarke frowned: "You don't think they're a positive thing?"

"I told you about the woman who left her husband because of a vision. Do you think he'd see her vision as a positive? I wouldn't say they're either/or, but the repercussions aren't negligible."

"Leaving him was her interpretation of it, though. We can't know for sure that's what the vision meant."

Lexa nodded. "You're right. It'll always be up to the person who has it."

Clarke cleared her throat. "You and I - we had the same one. I had the during, you had the after. Has that ever happened?"

Lexa tilted her head to the side. "Not that I've heard of, but it might not have been…" she trailed off, tongue-tied.

"What? The same time?"

"Hm."

Clarke laughed before taking another sip of her beer. "Alright then."

Lexa looked away with a growing smile. "You're the one who brought up interpretation."

"Uh-huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself."

It was flirting plain and simple and Clarke was very aware they both knew it. She'd missed it - that flutter in the pit of her stomach when flirting with someone. The first steps around each other; testing the waters; knowing the attraction had to be mutual by now. This was a game she could play.

"Twice," Clarke hummed. "That's very presumptuous of you."

"I'm just taking the facts at face value. There's no clear indication of a timeline and-"

"Do you know I'm not even sure it was you?" Clarke interrupted.

Lexa narrowed her eyes. "You said it was."

"I guessed. Messy brown hair, slim but fit - could be anyone."

Lexa pushed off from the parapet, stepping closer. "I don't believe you."

Clarke stood her ground, feeling a throb of desire. When Lexa was intense like this, she had no doubts it'd been her. But then there was that other side of her - distant, impenetrable - and the clear image in her mind shifted into a blur again.

"Why not? Does it upset you that it might be someone else?" Clarke asked, challenging.

"You wouldn't have told me if you weren’t certain."

"Maybe I wanted to get you off my back."

Lexa smiled slowly. "I think that's exactly where you want me."

Clarke's mouth dropped open. "Are you drunk?"

"Barely tipsy."

"Lexa. What are you doing?"

Lexa stopped short. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

Clarke was the one stepping closer this time. "No, I don't want an apology, I want an explanation. Clearly, you want… something from this. You talk to me; you flirt; you asked me out."

"I had a spa-"

"Come on. You don't even believe that."

Lexa swallowed. "Maybe I was wrong too. Maybe it wasn't you."

"It's one step forward, two steps back with you. I don't get it." Clarke set her bottle down. "Fine then, there is one way for me to be sure. We can settle this right here, right now."

Lexa's eyes flickered down to her lips before she caught herself. "There is?" She asked barely audibly.

"If you'll let me…"

Slowly, Clarke reached for her wrist. She felt Lexa tense and then relax, holding her eyes while Clarke undid the buttons of her sleeve. When they were loose, she pushed the sleeve up her arm. Clarke felt her heart beat faster the more skin she uncovered, gently pushing the fabric past Lexa's elbow. She tried not to think how soft and warm she felt beneath her fingertips, or if she was imagining the way Lexa's breathing stuttered a bit.

Lexa must've known what Clarke was trying to find out. Her eyes darkened when Clarke finally glanced at her arm. The bottom of a tattoo peeked out from beneath the bunched up sleeve, thick lines wrapping all around her bicep. Clarke's hand fell like she was burned, but a quick Lexa reached out to take it in hers.

"Lexa," Clarke gasped.

"Is that all you need to be sure?" Lexa asked quietly, face drawing closer.

Clarke found it hard to even think. "I-I could always find another way."

"Oh?"

Clarke's eyes closed when she felt Lexa's nose brush against hers, but the anticipation of a kiss remained just that.

"Then make sure of it," Lexa ordered tenderly in her ear as their fingers laced together. "Close your eyes tonight and make sure it was me."

Clarke felt her skin become heated, the pulsing between her legs desperate for attention. "What if it is? What if it's not?"

Lexa stepped back, her eyes hooded like she was drunk. "I guess we can put my theory to the test."

"Your theory?"

"Whether we're inevitable or not."

"Lexa-"

Lexa let go of her hand and walked toward the exit. "Have a good night, Clarke."

* * *

When Clarke got home after Wells and Raven dropped her off, the stillness of everything was in stark contrast to the apartment full of life and laughter she had been in for hours. She didn't mind the quiet though - loved it, even, especially after long days at the café. But maybe there could be... a little more life to the place.

By the time she got to bed, her body was buzzing. Clarke turned on her back and took a deep, steadying breath. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Lexa had touched her. What she had husked in her ear.

She hadn't… dared. Not even once. Getting herself off to the thought of Lexa had felt all sorts of wrong, especially knowing she'd have to face her at the café on a regular basis. But it was unbearable now. Clarke slid a hand beneath the hem of her sleep shorts and between her legs, moaning when she found herself wanting. It was no surprise - not after the rooftop. She closed her eyes and tried to focus, remembering her vision in fragments at first.

But her vision wasn't what she wanted. Her vision was just that - a fantasy. She wanted the reality of Lexa; the Lexa she'd felt against her tonight; the Lexa who'd made her dizzy with mere words.

So she imagined the rooftop instead: her, pressed against the parapet, and Lexa pressed against her. She imagined Lexa's hand going up her thigh, slowly pushing up the fabric of her dress. She could still smell her, could still feel her mouth by her neck. Lexa hooked her fingers in her underwear and slid it down, encouraged when she felt how wet Clarke was. Clarke had to imagine how Lexa would moan; if she would be vocal or not; how deep her fingers might reach. She touched herself slowly at first, head thrown back and mouth agape.

She didn't know if Lexa was a talker in bed, but it was easy to recall the shiver down her spine when she'd told her to think of her. This time her words were dirtier, spurring her on. Clarke's thighs widened as the ache inside her swelled and she added a second finger.

"Lexa," she gasped, bringing her other hand to her breast to squeeze it roughly.

Her thoughts scattered all over: Lexa gripping her hips to turn her around, leaning down so that Clarke felt her weight on her back. Lexa taking her from behind, filling her with two and then three fingers. Overwhelmed, Clarke turned on her stomach and groaned in desperation, knees pressing into her mattress while she brought herself over the brink. She moaned loudly into her pillow, her orgasm blindsiding her.

Clutching her sheets with one hand, Clarke's grip loosened slowly. She let out a small moan and felt her muscles loosen as her knees finally caved and she flopped onto her mattress. It had been far too long.

Turning on her back, Clarke kept her eyes closed as her breathing returned to normal. She wasn't too eager to open them to a lonely room, at least not for now. She moved her body to drag the sheets atop her and slipped her hands beneath her pillow, her stomach already in knots at the prospect of seeing Lexa tomorrow.

But there was no going back now. Clarke was sure Lexa knew it too. No matter what this was between them, if two nights were all they'd need to work out the tension between them, denying it was not in the cards. At least not the ones Clarke held.

[part seven]

#f: a bit of clarity #clarke x lexa #clexa #clexa fic #w

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pixelatedrose · 5 years ago

Text

Soulbound part Four

First | Previous | Part 4 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 3,212

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Implied self harm (Skip the part starting with “Virgil drug himself over...” until the break) Uncensored swearing, divorced parents, controlling parents/parents not respecting kids’ privacy (Skip the entire last part), absent siblings, if there’s anything I missed please please tell me, and if there’s anything you would like me to tag, don’t hesitate to ask!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 4

Virgil ran home as fast as his legs would carry him. His mind raced as quickly as shoes hit the ground, faster still.

Why is he here? Why is he a teacher? Why did he come back? Why did he act like he cared? Why come back now? Why was he never here before? Why? Why why why?!

Virgil tripped and the gods of luck put on blindfolds as he was flung to the sidewalk. He knelt on the ground and thought it had started raining. He looked around and when he saw clear skies he realized he'd been crying.

Virgil looked at his shallowly bleeding scrapes on his palms and knees before picking himself up and walking home, storming inside the unusual yellow door, slamming it closed and stomping up to his mother, ignoring her girlfriend sitting nearby.

"Virgey, you're home! How was school-" his mother started.

"Did you know about this?!" He spat bitterly.

"What?! What do you mean, Honey? What happened? Oh my god, your hands!! Virgey, are you okay?!"

Virgil hid his hands further into his sleeves. "That doesn't matter right now!! I want to know why Thomas is my fucking theater teacher!!" Virgil seethed.

His mother blanched. "Oh no…" she turned to her girlfriend. "Rachel, maybe you should go?"

Virgil watched as his mother's girlfriend got up and gathered her things as she slowly left the house.

"Now, Virgey, I didn't think that you-"

"You didn't think at all, Mom!!" Virgil snapped. "Did you know?! Did you know and think not to tell me?! Did you think that it would be too hard for me?! Did you think I'd burst into tears like a little kid?! Didn't want to deal with me finding out so you just didn't tell me at all!!"

"No!! That's- that's not!! No!! I didn't mean for-" Virgil's mother was floundering for words to comfort her son.

"It doesn't even matter anymore, I don't care!!" Virgil yelled, he ran upstairs and into his room. He slammed the door shut and pulled out a crude hand-made door stop and wedged it under the door. Years ago the lock had broken. Years ago the lock had been removed.

Virgil couldn't stand anymore. He fell to the ground and held his stomach. He felt sick.

His mother had lied to him.

His brother- who had everything, who had the world, the one that had never made a show to ever reach out and contact Virgil, the one who would never want to contact him because he had it all- was his theater teacher in his new highschool.

He had no friends.

He had no family.

He had no one.

Virgil drug himself over to the edge of his bed and pulled out a small box with an assortment of blades, lighters, and a small square of sandpaper. He fished out the edge of a pencil sharpener and-

"Virgey please let me talk to you!!"

Virgil didn't answer.

"Please I need you to understand!!"

Virgil didn't need to understand anything else.

"Please, honey, open the door!!"

Virgil removed his hoodie. He couldn't stand the heat his room gave off. That's a good excuse.

"Please at least tell me you're safe this time!!" His mother pleaded with him.

But nothing could be done.

Nothing could stop the manic anxiety that took him over. Words played over and over in his head and he felt like he was going insane so he focused on the pain digging into his shoulder instead of his own numbingly intoxicating insanity.

Nothing would make this okay for Virgil.

~~•~~

Roman was walking home and mulling over what had happened that day.

Rose was a good friend of Roman's, but she was a little oblivious at times. She'd pulled him away from the pretty emo boy when Roman had seen him in theater.

Theater… Roman smiled. He would have never pegged the shorter boy as a theater kid. His head started spinning up daydreams of Roman and Virgil performing scenes together, painting props together, singing duets together for the musical…

Roman shook his head to clear it. It seemed like Virgil wasn't interested though. He probably has his own soulmate, you idiot! Roman thought bitterly.

He walked in through his family's door and tossed his currently half empty backpack on the ground before flopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

Remus always stayed after school to hang out with his weirdo friends, so he wouldn't be home for a while.

Roman tried thinking of other things.

So he thought back to lunch.

~~•~~

"Did you hear that Remy and Emile are a couple?" Patton excitedly told his friends as he sat down at the table.

"They've been together for almost three years, Patton dear." Logan corrected his boyfriend.

Patton smiled. "Oh I know! But they're still so cute together!!"

"Patton, they're Soulbound Soulmates, of course they're cute." Logan continued.

"You're missing the point!! They're a-dor-a-ble, Logan!! ADORABLE!!"

"I'm not seeing what it is I missed. Is this some sort of complex joke that I'm not 'Gucci' enough to get?"

"That is not in any way how you use that word, honey child."

"Ah well. I'm still learning."

Patton looked suddenly over to Roman who was thoughtfully chewing on a sandwich. "Hey there, buddy! You're pretty quiet, you feeling alright there, Ro?"

Roman snapped his attention away from daydreaming. "Huh?? Oh yeah! I'm gucci as always, padre!" He said strikingly.

"Ah so that's how you use it…" Logan muttered as he seemed to study Roman from behind his glasses.

"Are you sure? You looked a little lost in la-la land there!" Patton ignored his robotic boyfriend, save for an instinctual hair ruffle that made Logan's face light up.

Roman looked out the window like the mellow-dramatic princeling he was. "Oh its nothing really…" he sighed. "See, I just met this really cute guy in-"

"OH MY GOOD GRACIOUS SNAP CRACKLERS YOU MET A CUTE GUY!!!" Patton nearly flung himself across the table and grappled his friend in a hug.

Roman nearly fell out of his chair on impact and had to pry the overly excited puppy-dog of a man off him. "Gah!! Yeah! But!" Roman started.

Patton immediately pulled himself off Roman. "Wait there's a but?!"

"Yes…tragically I believe he is not…" Roman threw the back of his hand to his forehead and dramatically tilted his head. "Attracted to me!!"

Logan snorted and Patton gasped somberly.

"Oh no that's just plain awful Roman!!" Patton lamented.

Roman smiled all the same. "Awh, Pat! He's probably one of those soulmate obsessed…" Roman drifted off as he remembered Virgil's immediate and harsh reply to his question. "...People." He let himself finish the sentence anyway. For some odd reason he wanted to keep his suspicions to himself.

"Awh, well next time then!! Right Ro!"

Roman's mind drifted to the purple haired boy he'd met.

"Ro?"

There was something about talking to him that felt so very right in Roman's mind. It felt similar to how he felt around Patton and Logan. But yet different still…

"Roman??"

Why does he wish soulmarks didn't exist? Roman thought, recalling the striking blue of the purple haired boy's eyes.

"Roman!"

Roman drifted, thinking of everything and nothing about the boy he had met in his third period. Virgil Sanders… he thought his name felt good to think… "Virgil Sanders…" he breathed out. He thought it felt good to say…

"ROMAN-!!"

~~•~~

Roman shot up on the couch, and grabbed at his shoulder which felt as if he had sliced it open.

He cursed and gripped it tightly, running to the bathroom to see what could possibly be wrong. Roman threw off his red varsity jacket and pulled up his short sleeves to examine his left shoulder.

There was nothing there.

It wasn't even red.

The pain faded down to a dull ache and Roman sat back down on the couch bewildered.

What the fuck just happened??

~~•~~

Patton skipped alongside his boyfriend, their hands clasped tightly together.

Logan smiled softly to himself, hearing the short, golden haired boy hum to himself.

"Hey, Lo?" Patton questioned suddenly.

"Yes, Patton?"

"Do you think Roman's okay?"

"Why do you say that? I do not think he would injure himself on his walk home, nor do I believe he would have fallen ill in that time either."

"No no, silly!! I mean emotionally."

"Ah. My bad. I am not very good with...emotions."

"I know you struggle sometimes, but even you saw the way he was acting today, right? He was totally distracted and had his head ten billion trillion gazillion miles away!! I hope he's okay…"

"I see. Yes, Roman did seem very distracted today. Though I suppose that may be because he was a little wonderstruck with the boy he mentioned."

"What?! Really? I thought Roman said that kid didn't like him though?"

"Well perhaps, but you know how easily he can become so infatuated with pretty boys the moment they open their mouth to even breath. And this boy held a conversation with Roman, so that concludes that Roman must be 'Head over heels' for this boy."

"Psh, nah!! Maybe a little flirty, but Roman doesn't have it that bad!! But do you know who does?"

"And who would that be, Patton?"

"Me!"

"Oh."

"And you!!"

"Oh come now!! I care very deeply about you and-"

"Oh just kiss me already, you dork!"

Logan sighed and laughed, his face lighting up at his boyfriend. "Only as you wish, my dearest."

~~•~~

Thomas Sanders had a good life as a kid.

He got decent grades, he made good friends, he was a little confused why he never liked girls like every other boy in his grade did. And even more confused when he thought his friend Michael looked just so cute when he was singing.

Thomas Sanders had a good life as a kid.

Up until his parents split up when he was 13 years old.

His father won custody and took Thomas across states to go live in Georgia where he lived for the rest of his childhood years until he moved back to Florida with new friends.

He started playing around with an app called Vine, and whether it was luck or skill, made it big. He made a Youtube channel and made videos online. He wrote songs and sung disney songs and reacted to other people. And he loved his fans. He loved them with all his heart.

It was when he was 25 that he got a message from someone in his old childhood town telling him he had a brother.

He had a brother?

Thomas Sanders had a little brother!

And he was ten years old and his name was Virgil Sanders!

Thomas sat down and decided to write a letter to his little brother. He wanted to know him! He wanted to meet him! He wanted to be part of his life!

Dear, Virgil Sanders.

This is a letter I'm writing to you because I want you to know that you have a big older brother who loves you and just found out that you exist! My name is Thomas Sanders and I want to know more about you! I want to know you! Did you know that I always wanted a little brother? I guess it's not a wish anymore, huh? Write me back, little bro! Tell me about yourself! Tell me about life! Tell me about mom and how school is going!!

Sincerely and dearly from, Thomas Sanders, your older brother.

That was perfect! Thomas couldn't wait to hear back from his little brother!

He couldn't wait to find out whether he liked sour foods or minty ones!

He couldn't wait to talk about boys (or girls) with him!

Thomas never heard back from Virgil.

So he sent another letter, this time on what he discovered was Virgil's birthday.

He never heard back.

Thomas would send a letter to Virgil every year on his birthday, one for christmas, one for Halloween, one for the beginning of the school year and one for the end, and one every valentines day with a purple rose.

And he never once heard back.

Now Thomas was 30 years old and had decided to become a teacher.

A total of 36 letters, soon to be 37, sent to Virgil.

Even if Virgil didn't want to talk to Thomas, he still wanted to try.

And then.

He found out that Virgil Sanders was his own student.

And he found out that his brother hated him.

So here Thomas was.

Standing awkwardly with his hand raised to knock on the yellow door of his old childhood home.

And he let he fist fall to the wood.

Knock, knock, knock.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" A hurried voice called from inside.

The door opened.

"What is it, what do you-"

The voice cut off.

Thomas waved awkwardly.

"Hey, mom. How's it going?"

~~•~~

Virgil heard the door open and someone come inside. He quietly creaked his door open.

"-want to talk to him. Please?"

Virgil's breath hitched. It was Thomas.

"No...No...No I don't think that he'd be ready to see you right now, Tommy."

Virgil sat and listened to the conversation.

~~•~~

Thomas glanced over at the counters and the ashtray on the coffee table. Beer cans and cigarettes littered everything.

"I see you haven't changed much." He meant it as a question, but it fell flat and turned into an observation.

"And what's wrong with how I am?" His mother asked accusingly.

Thomas looked at his mother and shook his head. "Nevermind…" he looked down at a discarded and trashy school backpack. "I take it he didn't take kindly to the letters? Didn't want to see me? You know I told you I was applying for Eastwood. You could have told me not to you know."

"Well I mean I didn't want to reach out to you and have Virgey find out!" Thomas cringed at the childish nickname. It didn't sound like something Virgil would want to be called. "And I never gave him the letters." His mother finished.

Thomas froze as thoughts raced through his head. "What." He breathed out.

"You really think he'd be ready to confront his older brother? You really think he'd want to see you?"

"That wasn't your decision to make though!"

"Of course it was, I'm his mother!"

"That doesn't give you a right to withhold information from him like that!"

"Yes! It does! He can decide what information he wants when he turns 18! For now, I'm his mother, I decide what's best for him!"

Thomas ran a hand through his hair, distressed. "You know I wasn't trying to be entirely serious when I said you hadn't changed, but you really have not changed one bit, have you?!"

"There was nothing wrong with what I was doing before!"

"Oh yeah? Then how come I didn't even know I had a little brother till he was 10?!"

"Because he wasn't ready for that! And neither were you! I didn't want you to think I'd moved on from you!"

"I was 25, mom!! Twenty!! Five!! I was old enough to make my own decisions and Virgil was old enough that he could decide if he wanted an older brother and back then it wasn't too late for me to be a part of his life!!"

"He was 10 and he didn't know what was best for him!! And he still doesn't!! I'm his mother!"

"You keep saying that but do you even know what that means?! It means that you're always there for them!! It means that you let them make mistakes!! It means that you give them privacy and a choice!!"

"He can have Privacy when he's moved out! Till then what he has I know about! I'm his mother and I get to decide!"

"That's not how that works!!"

"It most certainly is!! He just doesn't know what's good for him! And you are definitely not good for him!!"

"Is that why you kept the letters from him?! Cause that's what was best for him?!"

"What?! No!! He just-"

"You were afraid then?! Why didn't even give me a chance?!"

"Because you are not good for him!! Right now or ever!! I know best I'm the adult here and I make the decisions and I decide that you will go and-"

"MOM JUST SHUT UP!!" Virgil shouted. No one had noticed when he had walked downstairs. His eyes were red and his jacket was wrinkled. "What letters?" He asked calmly.

No one answered.

"Mom, what letters are you hiding from me?!" He voice cracked and choked.

"Virgey, honey, it was for your own good-"

"TO HELL WITH THAT!!" Virgil shouted, tears spilling over down his face.

Thomas spoke now. "I wrote you letters." He said. When no one tried to stop him, he continued. "When I found out I had a brother, I immediately sat down and wrote a letter to you. I wanted to know more about you, I wanted to be part of your life." Thomas took a breath. "That was about five years ago. And i never heard back. I assumed you didn't want to know me. But I didn't stop writing letters. I found out when your birthday was and sent you a letter yearly, and I always sent one for christmas, Halloween, and Valentines day. I sent one at the beginning and one at the end of every school year too." He pulled a wrinkled envelope out of his pocket and held it in his hands. "This one was going to be for this year, but I got caught up in moving and beginning my teaching that I didn't get it in on time." Thomas took a step and held out the envelope to Virgil.

He took it and read the handwriting that looked so real. It wasn't perfect cursive or some fancy calligraphy, it was normal and real handwriting. It read:

To Virgil Sanders. From Thomas Sanders.

Virgil wiped at his face, smearing his makeup. He looked up at his mom.

"You hid this from me…?"

"Oh, honey it was all for your own good! You know how-"

"How what?!" Virgil spat venom. "You knew how much I wanted to know my brother!! You knew how I thought he had left with his dad and just didn't care enough about us to come and talk!!" More tears. "You knew and you didn't once tell me that I had a brother who was kind and cared about me!!!"

��Virgil was shaking. He ran upstairs and his mother would hear the door to her room slam shut as Virgil rummaged around until he found the box under her bed full of 36 letters that his brother had sent him.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

No one spoke for a long time.

"I think I'll see him tomorrow." He turned to the front door. "Goodbye, Deva." He said.

And the odd yellow door clicked shut.

And all that was left in the old eerie house was a wronged child looking for five lost years, a mother who had tried to drown the inevitable with broken locks and promises, and a silence that bit like the way a cat silently does with prey already caught.

Tag list:

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@ghostboi-bambi

@scrunchiescrunchie

@badluckkaren

@ambrechandra

#ts sides #Logicality #Prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts Patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts sides fic #soulmate au #highschool au #thomas sanders #Soulbound Au

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moonlit-melodies · 4 years ago

Text

A Day At The Fair (Original Story)

Written: June 23, 2020 / Posted: December 9, 2020

Warnings: None / Word Count: 2,515 words

Tia hadn’t been to the state fair in years. Not because her parents didn’t let her, but because she just wasn’t interested in going. It’s always seemed too loud, too noisy, too filled with children and germs. But the week before, her friends were begging her to join them for just one day.

Her mom smiled at her as she dropped her off on the side of the road, just outside of the fair. She could see her friends sitting and chatting next to the greenery hanging from the walls of the fair.

“Have fun, Fatia,” her mom said, kissing her forehead before she hopped out of the car. After waving goodbye to her mother, Tia walked over to where her friends sat, talking about their previous DnD campaign. Olivia looked up at her, smiled and waved.

“Tia!”

The others looked up and ran to hug Tia, as if they hadn’t just seen each other at school the day before.

“Do we all have money for tickets?” Valerie, the eldest of the group, asked, standing from where she was sitting. Lydia, Valerie’s nearly identical twin sister, had cash for the both of them. Tia tapped her purse, and Liv nodded.

Tia had first met Lydia and Valerie in fifth grade, when they and a few other kids were part of their school’s first all-girls Robotics team. Two years later, Olivia came to their school. The four of them bonded over their shared love of musicals, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter. Now, they’re a nerdy group of friends who sing Newsies during lunch or recess, and Les Miserables during field trips.

The four of them all walked to the entrance, chattering about their homework assignments and games. They passed through security, Tia opening her purse to the guard anxiously before he waved her past to join her friends.

She grabbed a map from the booth as they walked past, and opened it. She always adored staring at maps, from game treasure maps to museum maps. It seemed that fair maps were no different. She was the one in her household with the best sense of direction. “One of the good things I got from Dad,” she used to say.

“Where do we want to go first?” Tia asked. Lydia peered at the map over her shoulder.

“We should go to the game alley,” Liv suggested.

“We should go to the rides,” Lydia said, much louder, her finger jabbing at a spot on the map. “The Tornado is five tickets per ride, and I have enough for ten tickets for myself.”

They all agreed to ride The Tornado first. Tia led the group through the fair, marching through crowds of children waving balloon swords and college-aged people wielding corn dogs and cotton candy. The smell of fried fair food, combined with the bright colors of food stands and bright lights was almost disorienting, making her feel slightly nauseated.

They each purchased five tickets each from a ticket booth, so that they each had just enough for cookies from Sweet Martha’s Cookie Jar, and headed for The Tornado.

The ride took them soaring through the sky like birds. Tia couldn’t remember the last time she felt so much joy from a fair ride. That morning, she had been running through all of the bad things that could happen at the fair, but she has not yet experienced anything negative here. If anything, she felt like there was nowhere more fun than this place, this ride, with her friends.

After the ride finished, Tia dusted off her skirt and took out the map, still somewhat dizzy from the ride. The four friends decided to walk through the game alley, which was less than a minute away, despite the fact that they knew all of the games were rigged.

“Woah, look at that Enderman doll.” Tia pointed at the game stall that had dozens of Minecraft Endermen hanging from the ceiling. The sign stated that five wins on the game were required for the doll, and Tia frowned. How disappointing. It would take a miracle to win those rigged games. She knew that. Her eyes moved onto the next stall, and her eyes bugged out even wider. “And that stuffed cat!”

Tia hadn’t thought that coming to the fair would renew her love for stuffed animals. When she’d lived at her dad’s house, she’d collected at least two dozen stuffed animals, from hand-sized cats to a head-sized Totoro. After she’d left to live with her mom at age twelve, she’d left almost all of them there, and her collection was reduced to a single stuffed cheetah. Back then, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d never get to rebuild that collection. But now that she was here, she felt a strong need to hold a stuffed animal.

Valerie giggled at Tia’s oohs and aahs as they passed through the game alley. "You know those things are scams, right?"

"I do know! We talked about them in math class two weeks ago," Tia said, pouting, but she felt just the tiniest bit blushy as Valerie poked at her.

Tia was the youngest--and shortest--of the group, and was considered the baby of the group. In all honesty, she didn't mind being babied. She was usually the one in charge, what with being the captain of the Robotics team, so being babies by her friends gave her a break from being the oldest and in charge.

The group stopped to talk about what they wanted to do with the rest of their time at the fair. They discussed spending some time at the animal farms (Tia insisted on visiting the horses, despite being allergic to them), and later on getting cookies from Sweet Martha’s.

Tia could see a bit farther down the game alley that there was a booth decorated with hundreds of variously-sized stuffed dogs hanging by their tails, far enough that Tia could barely see the balloon dart board. A sign against the wall read in all capital letters, 'POP FIVE BALLOONS TO WIN! ONE WIN FOR A SMALL DOG! THREE FOR A MEDIUM DOG! FIVE FOR A LARGE DOG!' Tia felt as if the sign was yelling at her, taunting her, telling her that she won’t get a dog.

“Look at how big that dog is,” Tia murmured.

“What if two of us pretended they were dating and tried to trick the employee into giving us one?” Lov said, poking Tia’s shoulder.

Lydia laughed. “You could try the ‘Oh babe, I don’t have enough to do the game’ thing, and if that doesn’t work, bribe him with this twenty,” Lydia said, taking out a twenty from her wallet.

“We should try,” Liv said. “Even if it doesn’t work. It’d be fun. Who wants to be the girlfriends?” Liv asked. “Not me.”

“I think I can,” Tia suggested nervously, shifting her weight between her feet. “After all, I’m the one who wanted the dog in the first place.”

“Alright, makes sense. Lydia? Valerie? Who’s the other girlfriend?” Liv asked.

“I vote Val,” Lydia said, raising her hand. “She’s the better theater kid, anyway.”

“Why not? You’re a theater kid, too,” Olivia said with a frown.

“Yeah, but I’m tech. Lights and sound and set, not acting.”

“Alright. I could probably play a better lesbian, what with actually being a lesbian,” Valerie said, looping her arm through Tia’s, making her cheeks heat up just a bit.

“So how do we do this?” Tia asked, trying to imagine the scenario. “Do I ask Val to win me a stuffed dog, and then she tells me she doesn't have enough to win me the dog? And then we ask the employee to give us one, and if needed, we bribe him with the twenty?”

“Exactly.” Valerie said. As she straightened her shirt, she laughed. “We do make a cute couple, though, don’t we?” she asked, looking down at their outfits. Valerie was dressed in dark, torn jeans and a black shirt beneath a red flannel--despite the hot weather--paired with black lace-up boots, while Tia wore a flowy, pastel-pink skirt, a frilly white blouse, and her fluffy hair was held back with a soft pink headband. They looked a bit like every stereotypical goth-girl/soft-pastel-princess instagram or tumblr lesbian couple. You know the ones. One half of the couple looks like they never completely got out of their My Chemical Romance based emo phase, while the other dresses in the colors of cotton candy and looks about as intimidating as a marshmallow. That was Valerie and Tia.

"Alright," Liv said. "We probably shouldn't meet up back here after. We’re too close, and it'll be too suspicious if you go back the way you came."

"Let's meet back at The Tornado, then," Tia suggested. The rest of the group agreed.

“C’mon, honey,” Valerie said, her hand sliding down to clasp Tia’s, taking her by surprise. She usually didn’t mind holding hands with her friends, including Lydia and Liv, but for some reason, this made her feel like butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach.

Valerie led her closer to the booth, and Tia followed behind, recollecting her thoughts. As they neared the stall, Tia grew nervous. She clung to Valerie’s arm tighter, and she didn’t know if it was for the act, or if it was out of fear. Tia was known in the friend group for the worst poker face--which is why she chose to be an IB Visual Arts student instead of an IB Theater student like Lydia and Valerie--but hopefully Valerie, best poker face and theater gay, would make up for everything Tia lacked.

The employee, a thirty-five or forty-five year old man blowing up balloons for the dart board, didn’t look like he would fall for their act. He turned in their direction, and Tia turned to Valerie, putting on her best puppy dog eyes.

“Babe, can you pretty please win me that doggy?” Tia asked, pointing at one of the bigger dogs hanging from the roof of the game stall. She almost laughed at herself, wondering if she was overdoing it. She could see Liv and Lydia snickering out of the corner of her eye, just out of sight from the vendor.

“Sweetness, you know I would, but I suck at these fair games and I only have twenty dollars on me, and we want fair snacks later," Valerie said, squeezing Tia's hand and putting the other on her shoulder, speaking loudly enough for the vendor to hear but not so loud that it was obvious.

"But ba-abe," Tia whined, shaking her head so that her fluffy hair flew up. "It's so cute! Look at his little face. His nose is so cute!" She gestured to the giant stuffed dog again.

Valerie smiled, and Tia could tell she was trying to contain her laughter. What happened to Poker Faced Val? "I'll see what I can do, sweetheart," Val said, and Tia couldn't help but blush. Hopefully that had helped with their performance.

Valerie let go of Tia's hand and stepped closer to the booth. Tia observed, twirling her hips innocently and clutching her purse as Valerie addressed the vendor, who had been watching them fondly.

"Sir, do you suppose I'd be able to have that dog for my girlfriend?" Tia heard Valerie say, and she couldn't help but smile at that last word. The vendor smiled, but shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but you'd have to win this dart game five times," the vendor said. "You could win three times for a medium, and once for a small one."

Valerie sighed, and Tia leaned forward to listen more. "Sir, I don't have enough money or skill to win the dart game five times. I haven't been able to get my girlfriend anything yet at the fair, and I really really want this for her."

Tia tried hard not to laugh. Valerie was doing so very well. She smiled softly to disguise her amusement with adoration for her 'girlfriend' Valerie.

"Tia, baby."

She focused her attention back to the situation. Valerie was beckoning her to come over, and she skipped over quickly. Immediately, she slid her hand into Valerie's, and smiled up innocently at the booth's vendor.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," the vendor said, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Sir," Valerie continued. "I do have twenty dollars on me. I'll buy the dog from you." She took the twenty dollars out of her pocket.

"Please sir?" Tia asked. The vender sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, ladies, but I can't."

"How about for the medium-sized ones, sir?" Tia asked. The vendor shook his head again. "Small ones? Please?" Tia asked, staring into the eyes of one of the smaller dogs' eyes. It could fit in her hand.

"I'm sorry, ladies," he said.

"How much do you make, sir, as a vendor?" Valerie asked politely.

"I make eleven dollars per hour."

"You could have these twenty dollars, twice your hourly pay, in exchange for one tiny dog they won't even notice," Valerie said.

"I'm okay, thank you." His tone of voice had remained the same the whole time since they'd arrived. He was polite and calm, despite Valerie’s pushing.

"Sir, what is your name?" Valerie asked.

"Jared."

"Jared," Valerie said. "I have a proposal. I could give you this twenty dollar bill, and I could put in a good word for you, in exchange for a small dog."

"I can't do that, ladies," Jared the booth vendor said.

Tia sighed. This guy seemed awfully dedicated to his eleven-dollars-per-hour fair job, which was just over two dollars over minimum wage, and there seemed no point in trying more.

Valerie took a deep breath, and it seemed that, unlike Tia, she wasn't ready to give up just yet. "Sir, you, among many others, are underpaid in this capitalistic society." Jared chuckled. "These dogs are worth maybe--"

"Babe!" Tia said, tugging at Valerie's arm. "It's okay, I don't need the doggy." In addition to feeling as though nothing would break him, Tia was worried that maybe Jared had caught on, and she hated confrontation. She turned to the vendor. "Thank you for your time, sir."

She dragged Valerie away, bowing her head to appear sad and clinging onto her arm until they were definitely out of sight. The fake couple met up with Liv and Lydia by The Tornado, and they all started laughing.

"You two were quite a convincing couple," Liv remarked. "Shame he didn't give you a dog, though."

"Yeah. They were cute."

"You don’t have to hold hands anymore," Lydia pointed out.

Tia looked down and quickly removed her hand from Valerie’s. To be honest, she didn't even remember that she was holding her hand. She couldn't help but smile.

"Let's try again next year, yeah?" Valerie suggested, elbowing Tia gently. "Maybe then you'll have a better poker face. And we might be able to be a lot cuter."

“Alright, nerds, let’s go to Sweet Martha’s. I’m really craving some cookies,” Liv said. “Tia, lead the way!”

#op #mywriting #story

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lavendersblues · 5 years ago

Note

Buddie + 3? I'm living vicariously through you and several others with this ship ^^;

Valentine’s day at the firehouse always sucked, in Buck’s humble opinion. His last few had been miserable (the date with Abby was nice, the impromptu tracheotomy not so much). And now that Bobby was married, suddenly Buck was one of the last single people on their shift.

“Oh cheer up, Buck,” Hen teased as she caught sight of his moping face. “You’re not the only single person in the firehouse this year.”

She then sent a significant glance towards Eddie’s back and Buck didn’t know whether or not to be sad or comforted. He settled on sad, giving Hen the briefest acknowledgement, before returning to staring at the back of Eddie’s LAFD shirt bearing his name.

The thing was bothering Buck most, however, was that he knew Eddie wasn’t supposed to be single.

Eddie was supposed to be spending this Valentine’s day with Shannon. But that option had been taken from him in the most tragic way. Not only had Shannon asked for a divorce, but she’d been hit by a car. Eddie hadn’t even had a chance to make things right before Shannon was gone. It wasn’t fair.

Before Buck could spiral further into his own thoughts of tragedy, self-pity, and sadness -- both for himself and for his best friend slash unrequited love -- Eddie turned and offered Buck a beaming smile that sunk right into his heart.

“Hey Buck,” Eddie greeted, slapping Buck on the shoulder with a hand and giving it a gentle squeeze -- an act reminiscent of a day in the not too distant past where Eddie had broken through the final lock on Buck’s heart. “Have any plans for today?”

Buck shrugged. “Oh, you know, pizza and Star Trek. It’s really just another day when you’re single.”

“True that!” Chimney called from the balcony, and a there was a swell of chuckles that followed. When the echoes died out, as they finished bouncing around the spacious concrete structure, Eddie turned back to Buck with those hyperfocused eyes.

“There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.”

“So why don’t you come over and do pizza and Star Trek with me and Christopher? We can make it a boy’s night. I’ll even spring for beers.”

Buck’s heart lurched in his chest and then quickly shifted into fluttering almost painfully as a tiny bubble of hope rose up. He tried desperately to quash it and play off his agreement with nonchalance. “Oh, yeah, sure! That sounds great. I’ll bring the pies.”

Eddie gave that heartwarming half smile that sent Buck’s heart into a tizzy as he clapped Buck’s shoulder one last time. “Sounds great. See you at six?”

“Yeah,” Buck dry swallowed. “Six.”

As Eddie’s retreating back disappeared out of sight, Buck heard a faint clicking. He turned to his left and saw Chim and Hen with their arms crossed, Hen with her head bowed as she shook it back and forth, clicking her tongue.

“Boys,” she muttered with heavy exasperation.

Chimney nodded sagely at her side. “You said it.”

---

Buck pulled up to Eddie’s house at 6:03 PM after having showered and shaved (slightly), with piping hot pizza from Giovanni’s, the small local restaurant that was only ten minutes from Eddie’s place and was an immediate favorite of Christopher’s. There were two boxes -- one, a standard combination pizza for Eddie and Buck, and a smaller pepperoni and mushroom pizza for Christopher.

Knocking once for an air of politeness, Buck shouldered open the door with a practiced ease. “I’ve got pizza!” he called into the apartment. There was an immediate flurry of noise as Christopher came barreling down the hall as fast as his crutches would carry him before he collided hard with Buck’s midriff.

“Buck!” Christopher was chanting, hugging Buck tightly. “Buck! Buck! Buck!”

“Hey, buddy!” Buck slid the pizza boxes onto Eddie’s counters before reaching down to envelop his favorite kid in a tight, protective hug. One hand landed on the back of Christopher’s head the way it had when he’d pulled Christopher from the water all those months ago. All Buck wanted to do was wrap Christopher up in his arms and keep him safe forever, but experience had taught him that you couldn’t wrap up kids in bubble wrap.

“Buck! It’s boy’s night!” Christopher crowed happily before detaching himself from Buck and moving back into the living room. “Gonna watch Star Trek with us, Buck?”

“You know it!” Buck grinned, glancing up as Eddie entered from the hallway with a soft smile. Buck’s heart did a backflip. Eddie’s hair was damp, and so was the collar of his shirt -- he must have just gotten out of the shower. He looked so clean he was almost glowing (but Buck was almost positive that Eddie glowed even after a four-alarm fire with his hair sweat matted and his face smeared with soot).

“Thanks for coming Buck,” Eddie said softly as he went for the pizza, using the disposable plates Giovanni’s had provided. “Beer’s in the fridge. I’ll get the disk loaded up in the DVD player.”

Buck grabbed two beers and a bottle of IBC Root Beer for Christopher (Eddie’s way to help Christopher feel included when the adults had their ‘grown-up drinks’). He popped the tops and set them on the coasters spread across the coffee table. Christopher had plopped himself into a special ‘movie theater’ seat that Eddie had bought off eBay. It had a cup holder and it reclined like the fancy new seats that were sweeping the nation, but it was miniature and just the right size for an eager seven-year old to use as he ate his pizza from the coffee table.

“So, what episodes are we watching?” Buck asked curiously from the couch where he had unceremoniously thrown himself, leaving just enough space for Eddie who shoved his legs out of the way before sitting.

“Wait, you actually meant the TV show?” Eddie asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “What happened to the Buck who didn’t care about anything that was made before you were born?”

Buck felt his face heat as he grew flustered. “Well, I just knew it was Christopher’s favorite show that he shared with you so I started watching it. I’m not very far -- I fall asleep a lot when it’s on. But I think I’m in Season 2?”

Eddie looked gobsmacked. It took a second but he shook his head, seeming to regain his composure. “We’re actually watching the 2009 movie with Chris Pine. Lots of explosions and action sequences. We thought it was more your style.”

“And sky-diving!” Chris piped up from the floor. “They go sky-diving!”

Both Eddie and Buck laughed, and Eddie took that moment to hit play on the menu screen before he settled in with his pizza, nestled just close enough to Buck to be absolutely maddening. Buck watched the film with moderate interest -- he’d seen it when it had first hit the theaters with his friends back in Pennsylvania but he hadn’t been super interested in the sci-fi genre at the time.

But now he wanted to watch and appreciate the film for what it stood for as a representation of his growing closeness with Eddie and Christopher.

It was just damn hard with Eddie’s leg burning a brand into his knee through the entire two and a half hour film.

Buck was so screwed.

---

After the film ended, Buck hung around on the couch as Eddie got Christopher ready for bed. He laughed as Christopher kept trying to convince his dad to let them watch at least one episode of the original Star Trek series before bed, but Eddie wasn’t swayed.

“It might be Valentine’s and you might have had too much candy at school, but it’s still a school night and that means bedtime is at 8:30. We’re already late on getting you into pajamas and teeth brushing!”

“But dad! Buck hasn’t seen Tribbles!”

“Tribbles can wait until the next boy’s night, okay?” Buck called down the hall, craning his neck around the corner to see Christopher, half in his pajamas and partially in the doorway of the bathroom where he was standing toe to toe with Eddie. At Buck’s words, however, Christopher gave in, allowing Eddie to usher him back into the bathroom with a grateful smile sent back down the hall to Buck.

After that it took no time at all to get Christopher tucked into bed with one final, “Good night, Buck,” followed by a warm hug and the soft sounds of Eddie telling his son one last story before the door to Christopher’s bedroom shut with a muted click.

Eddie’s feet dragged down the hallway with soft heavy padding noises before the frazzled father himself rounded the corner and he collapsed onto the couch, his head nearly in Buck’s lap. Eddie stared at the ceiling for a long moment and Buck took that moment to stare at Eddie.

“Thanks for coming over tonight Buck,” Eddie sighed, his eyes drifting shut for a few long moments. “We both really needed this.”

“Yeah,” Buck replied, desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking with all of the emotion behind it. He failed. “Anytime.”

Buck paused, then continued -- “And it’s not like I had anyone that wanted to spend Valentine’s day with me anyway.”

From his position on the couch, Eddie stiffened, his eyes still remaining shut -- though now with some apparent effort. After a few moments of deliberation, Eddie sat up turning to face Buck with a heavy expression.

“I wanted to spend Valentine’s day with you, Buck. That’s why I invited you.”

It was like a punch to the solar plexus and Buck reeled backwards. “But -- but I thought you only offered because my whole plan for the day sounded pathetic.”

Eddie’s hand was on his shoulder again, warm and solid and strong.

“I was the one who asked you what you were doing today, Buck. I wanted to invite you over. I just thought your plans would be fun with the three of us.”

Buck’s heart tripped and he felt short of breath. “Wait, so -- so it’s Valentine’s day, and you wanted -- you wanted -- but it’s not like -- I mean you’re not -- you haven’t been flirting with me or anything!” he sputtered, stumbling over his words.

Where Buck was flustered and buzzing, Eddie was calm and steady.

“Buck, I’m flirting with you. I have been since the day I met you.”

“But you -- Christopher -- I don’t -- wait --,” Buck’s breaths were coming in hard and heavy and he suddenly found himself with nearly a lap full of Eddie Diaz as Eddie’s hands cupped his face and the other man drew himself closer.

“Buck, Buck,” Eddie stressed, pointing Buck’s face towards his own, “look at me Buck. Deep breaths. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Or to break your trust, but I --”

Whatever apologies or retractions Eddie had set to spill from his lips were silenced as Buck leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. Buck didn’t want the apologies or retractions or the ‘We can pretend this never happened’. He wanted this. He wanted nights watching cheesy sci-fi remake films and eating pizza and hugging Christopher good night. He wanted Eddie Diaz pressed next to him from shoulder to ankle, warm and real. He wanted all of this -- but he’d just been too afraid to say so.

Buck pulled away from Eddie’s soft and incredibly willing lips with a soft smack, feeling Eddie’s exhale brush gently against his skin. Eddie’s thumbs brushed over his cheekbones softly and sent a thrill up Buck’s spine.

“I’ve been flirting with you too,” Buck said softly, through a smile that he thought might actually break his face.

Eddie grinned then, that same bright indulgent smile that seemed to be reserved only for Buck. He pecked Buck on the lips quickly before pulling away, their smiles making it difficult to do much more.

“You’re incredible, you know that right?”

Buck couldn’t help the smirk that creeped onto his face. “So I’ve been told.”

“Shut up.”

Eddie shouldered Buck hard, sending Buck rocking back away towards the other end of the couch -- laughing all the way. But it was worth it, seeing Eddie’s pink tinged cheeks as he rolled his eyes, taking one final swig from his beer.

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley was in love with his best friend, and it turned out that when your best friend loved you back? Valentines Day didn’t suck as bad after all.

#buddie #buddie is real #911 fox #911 on fox #my writing #OMG I LOVED THIS ONE A LOT #it's definitely going on ao3 #sorry it got out of hand???#rai-knightshade

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thebulletproofbangtanboys · 5 years ago

Text

Caramel Macchiato (Taekook x Idol!Reader)

Summary: {Request} Can I request an angst Jungkook, Yoongi, or Taehyung scenario? As you performed with your group on stage, your boyfriend and other idols are watching in the audience, when all of the sudden you got shot, and the whole building begins to turn into the purest form of panic, terror, and fear, and you nearly die

Word Count: 7k

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: gun violence, shooting, blood, some strong language (like, two words), fighting between members, hospitals

It was the last concert of your group’s tour, and you all had decided to have it in your hometown of Seoul. You were the lead vocals for your group, HeavyStarter. HeavyStarter was a five-member, all-girl K-Pop group, the first under BigHit Entertainment.

BigHit was actually the place where you met your boyfriends. Yes. Boyfriends. Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. It surprised you, too, when you found out that the boys were in a relationship, but you were easily accepting of it seeing as how your childhood best friend turned out to be gay. You actual became really close friends with the boys and eventually fell in love with them. However, you knew that they could not possibly love you in that way. They were…well…gay. They astonished you by coming up to you one day after your group’s dance practice and asking you if you wanted to join their relationship. You, of course, accept their wonderous offer. That was two years ago.

Now, here you were, finally back in the same city as them after four months. You just couldn’t wait until you were done with this concert, so you could go home and snuggle with your boys. You missed them greatly, and you were sure that they missed you just as much. The past few weeks, the boys had been blowing up your phone asking you when you were coming home and how much they missed you and wanted you in their arms. With each message, your longing for home just grew and grew, and now you were finally here.

You were backstage getting your makeup done and hair styled when you looked at your phone for the billionth time that night. The boys had texted you earlier saying that they were going to come see you before your concert, but it was twenty minutes before curtain, and they still hadn’t arrived yet. You sighed before placing your phone on the vanity counter.

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough, (Y/N),” Hana, one of your idol members said, giving you a side glance as she couldn’t turn her head from the hair stylist.

“I hope so. I was really looking forward to seeing them before we went on stage,” you said.

“Maybe they just got caught up in dance practice or something. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” you said solemnly.

Only your other members and the members of the boys’ group knew about the relationship. It definitely couldn’t be known to the public. Fans would be in outrage and the ranking and likeness of both groups would be in turmoil. Hell, no one even knew the boys were together except for the groups. Despite hearing about many fans who shipped the two together and would fawn over the idea of them actually being together, the boys had just decided to play it safe with it all.

Ten minutes had passed, and the boys still weren’t there. The lot of you were putting on your shoes, and disappointment sat heavily in your stomach. Brushing it off was a lot harder than you thought it would have been. You should be happy, relieved, anxious. It was your last concert of the tour after all. There was, however, a little glimmer of hope, imagining that they were just waiting for you in the crowd, ready to cheer you on. That was all you could think about as you walked down the long hallway to the side stage.

The five of you stopped right on the side and waited for the lights to go down so your group could go onto stage and get into position. This was when Hana walked up to you and gave your hand a squeeze. “They’ll be out there. They would have to be stupid to miss this.”

She was always the emotional supporter of the group. If anyone ever had any sort of worry or was sad, she was there to lift them up. Here she was, helping you out for the second time tonight. She was truly the only person who kept the entire group from falling into emotional shambles.

You smiled at her in thanks, and you saw the lights go out on the stage, signifying for the five of you to head on stage. As the lead vocals and main dancer, you put yourself in the middle. Once you all were in your stances, the lights came up, and the crowd went absolutely wild.

However, between the STARTER bombs and the spotlights, you really couldn’t see into the crowd, so you truly didn’t know if the boys were in the crowd or not. You finally decided to push them out of your head and focus on the night of dancing and singing before you.

It was about an hour later, and the concert was almost over. It was just a few more songs and your single, which was up next. You had just changed into your outfit for your solo: a white tee with the HeavyStarter’s logo across the front, a three-quarter-sleeve denim jacket, a black skirt that ended right above your knees, and a pair of black Converse high-tops. You were back on the stage within minutes, dancing and singing to your first solo that you had just released a month before the start of the tour.

Flits and flirts and struts and twists and turns. Your body could take every little bit of it, and you absolutely loved how your muscles burned from the exertion the dances gave. However, the feeling was short lived. Above the sounds of the music playing in your ear piece and the chant of the fans, you heard a loud bang. Milliseconds later, you felt a sharp pain and then a pressure in your left abdomen. You looked down at where you felt the pain, and all you could see was red.

Screams. They reverberated off the walls, but you could barely hear them.

Your hearing was going faster than you thought. It must be the shock.

You couldn’t see much of anything, either. Oh, wait. That’s the ceiling. I must have fallen from the impact.

Besides the initial pain, you couldn’t feel much. Your heart felt like it was pounding, and there was some ringing in your ears. In your peripheral vision, you could see your band members running up to you. They towered over you, and they spoke. What are they saying?

Your vision was becoming more and more blurry with each passing moment. You now felt heavy, and you just wanted to go to sleep. But I can’t go to sleep, can I? Whenever this happens to someone on a K-Drama, they always tell them to stay awake, to not fall asleep. But it’s so hard to stay awake. I just want to sleep. Please? Can I just sleep?

Light pressure was placed over where you had seen the red earlier. You tried focusing on the figure, but you couldn’t quite make it out. It almost looked like…Taehyung? So, you did come. But where is Jungkook? You tried turning your head, but it felt like it was full of cement. You tried lifting your left hand. You couldn’t feel yourself do it, but you apparently did. It was covered in red. Blood. Am I going to die?

No. I can’t die.

The boys. They need me, just like I need them.

I’m not ready to go, not just yet.

But it’s so hard to stay.

To stay awake.

I’m so tired.

I’m sorry.

Everyone.

Then, everything seemed to fade away to absolutely nothing.

Taehyung and Jungkook were on the way to your concert, the rest of BTS in tow. They were running late, and your boyfriends were clearly not happy about it.

“Look, we promised to meet (Y/N) before her concert, but now we aren’t going to be able to. She probably thinks we forgot about her all because SOMEONE HAD to get their coffee at an extremely busy Starbucks. But oooooooohhh. No, it was going to alright because we had PLENTY of time,” Taehyung mocked angrily, glaring at Jimin. “And now we’re stuck in traffic!” Taehyung huffed and hit his back up against the soft leather car seat, crossing his arms in frustration.

“Look!” Jimin almost shouted back. “I said I was sorry! What more do you want from me?”

“How about not make us late!”

“I sa-“

“Stop it before I turn this car around and none of us go to the concert!” Jin shouted from the driver’s seat, acting as the mother goose of the group yet again.

Both Taehyung and Jimin slinked into their seats, pouting. Taehyung looked over at Jungkook who just took his hand and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. Jimin just slurped his iced caramel macchiato, receiving a glare from Taehyung.

“Why don’t we just text her, tell her we are running late and apologize,” Jungkook suggested.

Taehyung nodded and lifted himself up a little to grab his phone out from his back pocket. He clicked the “on/off” button, and the screen stayed black. Taehyung tried it again, and the screen still wouldn’t turn on. He then began to violently click the button as if it were going to turn it on.

“It’s dead,” Taehyung sighed before dropping it in his lap. “What about your phone?”

Jungkook patted his back pocket and then looked around the floor of the van for it.

“Crap. I left it in my bag back at the studio,” Jungkook groaned.

Taehyung groaned back in response and looked outside. “At least we are almost at the stadium.”

Sure enough, after a few more blocks and fifteen minutes of trying to find a parking spot, they were finally on their way into the building. All seven of them had their masks pulled up to help disguise themselves. The night was about you and your group, not them. They walked in, and they instantly had their tickets scanned, accessing their entry. There was not, however, any form of bag check or a metal detector which seemed odd to the boys, but once they saw the security guards spread throughout the area, they shrugged everything else off. They walked a little further down where they were met with a hallway with silver placards sticking out against double doors, almost like a movie theater.

Yoongi looked at the tickets in his hands and then looked at the placards lining the halls. “Just a little way down,” he said before taking the lead. The rest followed him to section J where their seats were located. They went through the double doors and walked down to where their seats were, which was just a few rows back from the front. It was close enough to see you, but far enough away to where they wouldn’t be caught on camera.

It wasn’t long after they took their seats when the lights went out, and a strong whisper fell over the crowd before it went completely silent. A few moments later, the lights came on, and you and your members stood on stage with you right smack in the middle. The crowd went absolutely wild at the sight of the five of you. Taehyung and Jungkook both felt their breathing hitch in their throats. You were so gorgeous to them. You looked gorgeous to them on any given day, but right now, you were at a whole new level, which neither of them could have ever thought possible.

However, it was when you had come back onto stage for your solo that the boys were on the edge of their seats. The other five boys smiled lightly at how infatuated the maknaes were by you. They could tell that they truly loved you, and they knew that you were one lucky girl. Well, lucky until a loud, metallic bang sounded off the walls, and you suddenly fell to the ground.

The crowd of fans screamed loudly as they saw their beloved idol fall into a heap on the stage. Pure terror filled the fans’ bodies, and their instincts told them to run. So, naturally, that’s what they did. The stadium was now in absolute panic as waves of people started trying to leave the stadium. People were shoved and pushed to the ground, many hit the sides of the chairs as they were shuffled around. No one knew exactly where the gunshot came from, they just knew that it had occurred in that room and as a result, needed to get out of said room.

While everyone was running out the doors, all of the members of BTS were running towards the stage, Jungkook and Taehyung being the fastest. Security guards tried stopping them, but there was no use. The pushed through and jumped onto the stage. Once they got onto the stage, all seven just stood there in shock for a moment. This was when the rest of your group came rushing out, along with backstage security guards.

A red stain on the left side of your once pristine white shirt was growing, and blood was pooling around you slowly but surely. Namjoon remembered reading somewhere about how when a person was shot, their body started directing more blood to the center of the body, trying to protect its most vital organs. However, in this case, it was just doing more damage. You were going to bleed out if something wasn’t done soon.

Apparently, Taehyung had read his mind and instantly took off his jacket, rushing over to you. He placed his jacket over your open wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Blood was quickly seeping through the fabric, staining his favorite jacket forever. It was an expensive Gucci jacket, but that could never compare to how much you were worth to Jungkook and Taehyung, to the rest of BTS, your group, your fans.

Jungkook started crying violently a few feet away, scared for your life. You were one of the loves of his life, and he couldn’t live without you. Now, here you were at your final concert of the tour, laying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. His heart physically hurt looking at you. He could feel his throat constricting, depriving him of his well needed oxygen. He bit his knuckle, trying to keep his sobs from being heard, but once Hoseok wrapped his arms around the youngest member, Jungkook could no longer hold them back.

Jin was off to the side, on the phone with first responders, and Namjoon was by Taehyung’s side, trying to tell him all that he could remember from past readings and checking you for your breathing. Medics now came onto the stage. They quickly thanked Namjoon and Taehyung for their help and took over taking care of you until better equipped professionals arrived. The rest of the HeavyStarters stayed back, watching the medics work on you and looking on at Taehyung and Namjoon with pity as they were covered in blood. Your blood.

“She’s still conscious!” one of the medics said loudly. Sure enough, you had moved your arm up sluggishly before dropping it back down to the ground. Jungkook choked out a sob, hearing the medic’s voice.

“That’s a good sign, right?” Jimin asked, finally making himself known amongst the crowd.

“Well, it means that if she has a concussion, we can keep an eye on her and there is a lesser chance of her slipping into a coma,” the other medic explained.

The first medic nudged the second one, and the second one moved his attention back to you.

“I don’t want to alarm them, but we’re losing her. She just lost consciousness. So much for that little ray of hope there,” the first medic whispered to the second.

The second medic instantly went to place to fingers on your carotid artery. “Pulse is thready.”

“Alright, we need to get control of the bleeding. She’s lost a lot of blood already, and I’m not sure how far out the ambulance is or even what the situation is out there. We could be on lockdown; the shooter could still be out there. We don’t know, so we need to do everything we can to keep this girl safe.”

Taehyung’s heroic adrenalin was now wearing off, and he was feeling his true emotions come through. Sadness. Anxiety. Anger. And the way both of the medics were talking in low voices got to him the most.

“Just tell us what’s wrong with her!” he yelled, trying to take off towards them, but Jin and Yoongi held him back, and a security guard stanced himself to take down Taehyung if the situation arose.

The medics looked at each other, and medic #1 looked over his shoulder at Taehyung. “She’s still breathing, but her pulse is weak. She’s lost a lot of blood.” He then turned to the security guard. “We aregoing to be able to get an ambulance here, right?”

The guard nodded. “I’ve already sent word out to the rest of us that one is on the way. There will always be a few guards near the ambulance and with the paramedics just in case. The rest are still out locating the shooter.”

The medics seemed to let out air they didn’t realize they were holding. They were trained for very basic medical procedures: applying band-aids, giving stitches, and splinting broken bones. They were not prepared, however for dealing with a shot idol who was bleeding out right in front of them with two idol groups, security guards, and more incoming music-related people watching them like hawks.

Thankfully, moments later, the real trained professionals came running in with a stretcher and several security guards. One of the paramedics quickly checked your vitals and gave the others a nod. They then carefully moved you onto the stretcher before rushing you out the building and into the rig. Taehyung and Jungkook tried getting in the back with you and the paramedics.

“No one allowed in,” one of the paramedics said sternly before taking the rig doors and closing them harshly. Within seconds, the ambulance was off, on its way to the hospital, leaving everyone else behind.

Taehyung felt his rage vibrate through his body once more, but now it was directed towards the security guards that stood a few yards away, watching carefully. Taehyung stomped over to one of the security guards and instantly tried to take a swing at the large, burly man. The security guard saw it coming and took a step back, missing Taehyung’s fist by mere inches. Once Taehyung’s fist was no longer an issue, the security guard tackled Taehyung to the ground. Taehyung tried to fight, but when he realized that it was useless, he stopped fighting.

“Why didn’t you stop them?! Why didn’t you stop (Y/N) from getting shot?!” he screamed in anguish. His heart felt heavy, and his lungs felt like they were filled with water. He couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of the guard on top of him. Rather, it was from the weight of emotion that sat in him.

Once the guard realized that Taehyung was no longer of a danger to him, he got off of him. Taehyung just stayed on the ground, tears streaming out down his face which was contorted into a look of pain. He pounded his fist onto the ground once before rolling over, holding his now hurt hand in his other hand. Jungkook walked over to Taehyung, fresh tears now tracing the older tears stains on his cheeks. Jungkook knelt down and took Taehyung in his arms, holding him closely. Taehyung leaned into Jungkook and cried violently.

“Tae, she’s not dead yet, okay? She won’t die. She’s strong. Stronger than we know, okay? And we have to be strong for her. She needs us, and we can’t be there for her if we’re going around and breaking our hands and attacking security guards, can we?” Jungkook asked, lightly stroking Taehyung’s neon blue hair.

Taehyung shook his head no, still hiding his face in Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook lightly placed a finger under Taehyung’s chin, bringing his face up. “Everything is going to be okay,” Jungkook whispered with a slight choke. He leaned down and gave Taehyung a soft kiss on the lips.

“You seven,” Hana said, her voice slightly shaking. Everyone looked up at her. “Get on the tour bus. It’s the only thing that can kind of fit all of us, and I really think we all need each other right now. We all need to be there for her when she wakes up.”

Everyone started making their way to the tour bus that across the lot. Jungkook looked at Taehyung, and Taehyung nodded, signifying that he would be okay. Jungkook helped Taehyung up, and the two of them made their way to the bus, clinging on to each other for comfort and support.

The bus ride seemed like it was taking hours, days, weeks, months, years, forever. In reality, it was only a fifteen-minute ride. Everyone was on the edge of their seats with worry. The HeavyStarters worried because you were their best friend, a sister to them. You were also the leader of the group, and they needed their leader. The Bangtan boys were worried not only for your life, but if it were to end, how it would affect their two maknaes and how in return it would affect their own group. They were all a really close-knit family, the two groups, and you were the stitch that held them together.

When they finally got to the hospital, and the bus was parked, Jungkook and Taehyung were the first ones off of the bus. They practically ran to the doors of the emergency room. When the automatic doors didn’t open quite as quickly as they had liked, Jungkook took matters into his own hands and pried the doors open. They rushed up to the front desk in unison, almost pushing a man on crutches out of the way.

“Excuse me,” Jungkook said. “We need to find out where someone is.”

The lady at the front desk sat there with her eyes slightly widened and mouth agape in shock. After a few seconds, the situation finally processed in her brain, and she slightly shook her head. “Uh, yes. Who are you looking for?” she asked.

“(L/N) (Y/N),” Taehyung said, tapping his fingers on the counter and shifting his feet anxiously.

The woman gave a quick nod before stooping down in front of the computer, typing your name in.

“Ah. It looks like she is currently in surgery. I’ll have someone notify the surgeons that you are here. What is your relation to her?”

“We’re her sisters,” Hana said with the rest of the HeavyStarters with her.

Taehyung and Jungkook looked behind themselves and gave her weak smiles, thankful that they didn’t have to tell a stranger their relationship situation.

The lady behind the counter gave another simple nod before saying, “Once we have any new information, you’ll be updated. For the time being, have a seat in the waiting room over there. There are snack and drink machines right down the hall. In the meantime, sir, we can take a look at your hand and see if we can’t do something about it.”

“Thank you,” Hana said before walking up to Jungkook and placing a hand on his shoulder while Taehyung was led to an examination room.

After that, the wait was hours long. A grand total of five agonizing hours with no update on your wellbeing at all. A TV in the waiting room was on the news, broadcasting what had just happened at your concert. The moment one of the nurses heard the television, they quickly changed the channel, knowing that your “family” was sitting there in the waiting room. Taehyung, now wearing a jacket of his that you had taken from him and brought on the tour with you, and Jungkook sat closely together, linking their hands through the front pockets of their hoodies. Jungkook’s head rested on Taehyung’s shoulder. All eleven of them had finally calmed down into a mellow, numb state. That feeling quickly ended, though, when your name was called out, and every one of them stood up.

A surgeon clad in dark blue scrubs walked up to the large group. He looked worn out, like he had seen a million lifetimes worth of trauma and death.

“How is she?” Hana asked, speaking what was on everyone else’s mind.

The doctor let out a breath before relaying the injuries to the group. “I’m Dr. Han. Well,” he started, ��When she came in, she had lost about four pints of blood. Any more blood loss, and I’m not sure there would have been anything we could have done. However, we were able to get some blood into her, which helped quite a bit. The bullet made its way fully through her. Thankfully, it missed her spinal column, but only by mere centimeters. We did have to resect some of her small intestine due to the wound and some fragmented pieces of the bullet.” What the doctor had not told them was that they had to resuscitate her several times due to the initial blood loss. He noticed the anxious looks on all eleven faces. “She is recovering in the ICU right now. Hopefully, if she is doing well in her recovery process, we can move her upstairs in about a few days.”

“Can we see her?” Jungkook asked meekly.

The doctor nodded. “Just follow me.”

The group followed closely behind Dr. Han. Anxiety flowed through all of their veins like sugar after a bake sale. The clicks and squeaks of the group’s various kinds of shoes echoed off of the whitewashed walls. The hallway seemed longer than it really was. It seemed like everything tonight was in slow motion. It was as if time in itself was made of molasses.

When they finally came up to your room, they all stopped outside of the glass. On the other side, you were laying in your bed, peacefully like a porcelain doll it seemed, despite all the many tubes and IVs that connected you to various monitors. The air in everyone’s lungs seemed to leave as they saw you in such a state. Less than six hours ago, you were on stage dancing, smiling, having the time of your life. Now, your life was still hanging in the balance, teetering on the thin line between life and death.

“When will she wake up?” Jin asked Dr. Han.

“It’s honestly hard to say. Most people after sustaining a traumatic injury such a bullet wound generally wake up anywhere from a few hours to a few days. However, in her case…” His voice began to trail off.

“She may never wake up,” Jungkook finished, gripping his hands slightly, his voice cracking a little.

“Jungkook,” Jimin started.

“No!” Jungkook shouted, losing his cool for the first time that night. “If we hadn’t stopped to get your stupid coffee, we would have been able to see her before the concert! We would have been able to wish her good luck! We would have been able to hear her say ‘I love you’ one last time, but no! You had to have your goddamn cup of coffee!” Tears were streaming down his face once more, and his fists were balled up tightly. His fingernails were digging painfully into the palms of his hands.

Taehyung placed his good hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as if to calm him. Jungkook just shoved it off and turned around slightly to face his boyfriend. “Stop, Tae. No. You said it yourself earlier! If Jimin hadn’t begged to stop at fucking Starbucks for some unnecessary drink, we would have been able to see her!”

Taehyung’s face dropped as he realized the truth in Jungkook’s words. Jungkook was right in a way, but at the same time… “I know, Kook, but how was he supposed to know? He couldn’t have known that she was going to get shot! Besides, how is arguing going to help (Y/N)?! It’s not! So, you can either come visit (Y/N) with me or you can go somewhere else and go cool down.”

Jungkook looked at Taehyung in light shock. Never had Taehyung ever talked to him in that way before, and he never thought he would here him use that tone of voice with him. Jungkook sighed and gave Jimin a dark glare before walking past everyone to go into your room. Taehyung watched as Jungkook stormed into the room and plopped down into a chair harshly. After Taehyung saw Jungkook grab onto your hand sorrowfully, he turned back to the rest of the group.

“I hate to ask this, guys, but I was wondering if Jungkook and I could spend some time with (Y/N) alone?” he asked. Everyone looked at each other and gave him a nod. “Thanks. And, Jimin?”

“Hm?”

“It isn’t your fault. We were just a little anxious and upset, Jungkook especially. Please, don’t take this personally. We really are sorry. It just may take Jungkook a little while to see that.”

“Yeah,” Jimin said, giving a half-genuine smile. Deep down inside, Jimin really did feel like this was his fault, but he wasn’t going to let that show. He walked off with the rest of the group, leaving Taehyung and Jungkook alone with you, as the doctor had already left to go check on some other patients.

Taehyung walked into the hospital room. To him, it smelled like death. The air had that dark thickness to it that could be associated with death. It was as if the Grim Reaper himself was standing in the room, ready to bring his scythe down upon you and take you to the Underworld. Taehyung shrugged off the feeling and grabbed a chair out of the corner of the room and moved it over next to where Jungkook was sitting. He placed his hand over Jungkook’s which was holding your hand.

The two of them sat in silence until Taehyung broke it.

“It makes me cry every day,” Taehyung began to softly sing.

“It makes me think of you,” Jungkook joined in perfectly with Taehyung.

“Because it sounds like our story,” the both continued. “No matter how hard I try to cover my ears, it spins around me.”

The two of them sang the song that made you fall in love with them. Taehyung remembered the day like it was yesterday. You had come over to the dorms to hang out with them, and the lot of you got bored, so he and Jungkook started singing “A Daily Song” by Hwang Chi Yeul together. When they saw how much you liked them singing that particular song, they started singing it for you every time you got sick or were just having a really bad day, even if you were on tour.

Several weeks had passed, and you still had not woken up. Doctors now held less hope than they did before as far as your waking went. Even the HeavyStarters started coming less and less and started practicing songs and choreos without you even having a place in them. BTS backed off, too, only coming every so often to comfort Jungkook and Taehyung since they had never really gotten overly close to you to begin with.

However, Jungkook and Taehyung never stopped losing hope. They still sat by your side each and every day for hours on end, telling you how their day went or what Namjoon had destroyed lately. And every day, they would sing you “A Daily Song.” They never gave up hope, not even in the slightest despite all of the doctors’ words.

All of this had become the new norm. So, here they were singing your song again. They never got tired of it, not when there was even the slightest chance that you could hear them. Once they ended the song, both Jungkook and Taehyung each took one of your hands in their own.

“(Y/N),” Taehyung started out. “If there is any way you can hear us, please know that we love you. Jungkook and I are here for you. We are here for you through all of this. We will never, ever stop loving you, (Y/N). When we asked you to join our relationship, we did it not because we thought it would be fun to have you around more often, I mean, we did, but that’s beside the point. We asked you because we loved you…Love you.”

Taehyung placed his head on the bed, right next to your side, the tip of your fingers brushing the end of his nose. He closed his eyes and felt a tear slip out of his eye and onto the bed. He lightly brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Tae,” he heard from Jungkook a few moments later.

Taehyung sat up, looking at Jungkook with confused eyes. Jungkook looked over at you, and Taehyung’s eyes followed.

Everything was so dark, like you were in a swimming pool filled with black water. Everything was also so heavy as if cement blocks had been chained to your ankles and wrists. You were being dragged down to the deepest depths of the pool. The further down you went, the harder it became to breathe, until you finally became still. You could breathe again, but your vision was still impaired. Then, you began hearing things. Voices. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but they were certainly there. The voices would come and go. Sometimes, they would talk, and sometimes, they sounded like a song. Yet, like every time before, you couldn’t understand a single word. That was what the pool of death felt like. All senses construed, failing. You were in a constant state of in-between sleep. Aware of outside resources, but not fully understanding. Eternity went by, and this was how it was every single moment.

That was until at one point in time, you saw a little speck of something off in the distance. You didn’t know what it was, and you weren’t sure you wanted to. You had remembered the cliché stories of people going to the light as they died and ascended into Heaven. But, you weren’t ready to die. You had made yourself clear. You were going to live, no matter what happened. You were going to make it out of this. However, every time you looked at the fleck in the in the distance, it seemed to have gotten just a little bit closer. And every time the fleck got closer, the pool got just a little bit brighter, the blocks a little bit lighter, and the voices a little bit clearer.

When the fleck was still in the distance, but now the size of a basketball, you could tell who the voices belonged to: your boyfriends. Every so often, you could hear the other BTS members and even your group and then some unfamiliar voices. You still couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you were no longer scared of this little fleck. You wanted to go towards it, to go through it, and see what was on the other side.

You never really made any effort to get through to the other side, though. You still had your doubts. What if it was your own personalized Heaven with all the people you loved and held closely to your heart? Then, you had the nagging thought in the back of your head: if this is my own Heaven, then why are there voices I don’t recognize? This just made you curious, and now you just had to find out what was on the other side.

You first tried moving your arms, but it was like moving through gelatin. It was difficult but possible. It was a slow process, and it tired you out easily. Your persistence and determination kept you going, though. If there was any chance that Taehyung and Jungkook were on the other side, you were going to get there. You pushed and pushed and pushed until your finally reached the fleck. It was no longer a tiny little fleck in the distance, though. It was now like a doorway with light streaming through the open door. You expected it to blind you, but it didn’t. It was a nice, warm glow that radiated kindness and love.

The voices on the other side were clear now. What was being said by these voices brought tears to your eyes. It was more singing than it was talking. You instantly recognized the song: “A Daily Song.” It was your little trio’s song. You stood there, not making any more advances into the light. You stayed there, listening to the beautiful song being sung by two beautiful men. The song eventually ended and talking replaced the melody. It was Taehyung.

“(Y/N), there is any way you can hear us, please know that we love you. Jungkook and I are here for you. We are here for you through all of this. We will never, ever stop loving you, (Y/N). When we asked you to join our relationship, we did it not because we thought it would be fun to have you around more often, I mean, we did, but that’s beside the point. We asked you because we loved you…Love you,” he said.

Making your way through the light just became that much more important. You stepped through the bright doorway. Suddenly, everything was clear again. Your hearing was perfect. You could feel someone holding both of your hands, the softness of the blankets on your bed even though they were far too thin to keep someone comfortably warm, and the way your hair tickled the side of your face.

You gave the hand on your right a light squeeze and tried opening your eyelids. One thing that had not changed from the pool to now was the weight of everything. Your eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. You mustered up all your strength and finally got them open. It took a moment, but your eyes adjusted to the new fluorescent light. You now could see clearly.

“Tae,” you heard from your right.

That was when you started choking on the respirator tube that had been put down your throat to control your breathing while you were unconscious and healing.

“Nurse! Doctor! Somebody!” Taehyung shouted, looking at you helplessly.

Seconds later, a nurse ran into the room, maneuvering in front of Taehyung. She placed a hand on your shoulder. “I know, (Y/N). We’ll get this out of you. Just stay calm for me, okay?” You tried evening your breathing, but with the respirator tube still in your throat, staying calm was an exceedingly demanding thing to do. To your benefit, moments later, the tube was out of your throat. You coughed a few times before gasping for breath.

Once you were finally able to get your breathing under control, you looked to your left and right, seeing your boyfriends on either side of you. You knew you could always count on them to be by your side, quite literally in this case.

“You came back,” Jungkook whispered, placing your hand up to his cheek.

“Of course,” you said hoarsely. “It was the music that my beautiful boys sang that brought me back.”

36 notes · View notes

demigodsanswer · 5 years ago

Text

Post-its and Pregnancy Tests

Here it is. The au of my own headcanons. Everybody lives, adult, post-college AU where Chris, Clarisse, Beckendorf, Silena, Lee, Castor, and Pollux share one four bedroom, two bathroom apartment and have for eight years.

Read on AO3

~*~*~*~*~

Silena had an eye for detail. It’s what made her such an excellent wedding and party planner.

And that eye for detail had led her to one very important observation: her best friend was pregnant and didn’t know it yet.

Admittedly, Clarisse didn’t look pregnant. She jogged next to Silena, clearly at a slower pace than her usual to help Silena keep up, without seeming winded or tired. She didn’t even look like she had gained any weight. But Silena was sure of her conclusions, and it was time to do what she did best.

Make Clarisse la Rue face facts.

They were a block from their apartment building when Silena asked them to pause of a second, coming to a rest outside of the drug store. Silena leaned over and rested her hands on her knees, letting her head hang. She watched her breath fog up in the chill November air.

“Come on, princess, we’re almost home. You can run one more block,” Clarisse said. She had been gracious in agreeing to help Silena get in shape for her July wedding, foregoing her usual evening runs with Chris to run with Silena when she got home from teaching.

“I know I can,” she protested (although her heavy breathing threatened to betray her). “I want to stop in here,” she gestured to the drug store, “and get some more bridal magazines.”

Clarisse shrugged, “Alright, I’ll be out here.”

“You don’t want to come inside and warm up?”

Clarisse shook her head. “I’d rather freeze than watch you leaf through fifty magazines.” Silena nodded and walked inside.

She grabbed a few new bridal magazines (for work and personal use), and then a pregnancy test. (The cashier didn’t say anything about her purchase, but she still felt compelled to clarify that she was a wedding planner and also not pregnant.)

When she walked out, Clarisse was leaning against the wall. “Ready to go?” Silena asked. Clarisse turned to start running home. “Actually,” Silena stopped her, “I was hoping we could just walk. I want to talk to you about something.”

Clarisse looked at her accusatorially; Silena knew she thought she was just trying to get out of the last bit of running. But Clarisse complied, and they started back to their apartment.

“So what’s up?” Clarisse asked.

“You know how our periods are synchronized?” Silena asked. Eight years ago, when they were just starting to be friends, Clarisse probably would just rolled her eyes and walked away without answering the question. Now, at twenty-four years old and with eight years of Silena experience she didn’t even blink at the question.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, I noticed that three weeks ago I got my period,”

“Good for you,”

Silena ignored the slight condescension and continued. “Well, I got my period, and you didn’t. And it’s been three weeks and you still haven’t gotten yours.”

“Silena -” Clarisse tried to interupt, but she continued. She pulled the pregnancy test out of her bag as they got closer to their building.

“Look, I know that you’re stubborn and don’t want a baby and all of that,”

“Silena -”

“But just take the test. I don’t want you to be one of those women on I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant.”

Clarisse took a deep breath as she unlocked the front door. “Fine, I will.”

When they got to their apartment, Silena shouted, “Anyone home?”

They all worked different hours, adding to the chaos of the four-bedroom apartment they had all shared since Silena and Clarisse’s freshman year.

Castor was the camera man for the nightly news, so he was usually out at four in the afternoon and back after midnight. Chris and Charlie worked normal business hours. Pollux was always out with some acting job or another; Lee helped his mom manage their movie theater in the Village, keeping him out late too. Silena and Clarisse were usually the only ones home this time of day, with Silena working from home unless she had an event or a meeting, and Clarisse got home from teaching teenagers the joys of American history at about 3:30.

After six years, though, they were all starting to pack up the apartment. They were all moving to the same building - they could never be that far from each other. The building was one of four “New Athens” buildings in the city. A demigod-safe building compete with free rent for Titan and Giant war vets. They couldn’t pass that up.

Plus, Silena and Charlie were getting married in nine months, and neither wanted to be a newly wed couple with five roommates.

Well, if Silena was right (which she was sure she was), soon to be six roommates.

Clarisse took the pregnancy test box from Silena when no one responded and walked into the bathroom.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Silena said through the door.

“I’m sure I can handle this on my own,”

“I’m just trying to be supportive,”

“Lena, this whole thing would be so much easier if you stopped talking to me,”

“There’s no reason to be nervous,”

“I’m not nervous! I just don’t like talking to people while I pee. Just please, walk away from the door,”

Silena sat on the couch and waited.

Clarisse walked out a moment later, and put the pregnancy test on the coffee table. “Alright, three minutes,” she set a timer on her phone and sat on the couch.

“Are you nervous?” Silena asked.

Clarisse shook her head, “No, I’m pretty sure I know what it’s gonna say.”

Silena took Clarisse’s hand. “Look it’s okay to be nervous,”

Clarisse looked her in the eye, “I’m not nervous,”

Silena huffed and dropped her hands. “Well, maybe you should be. Because you might be pregnant. That doesn’t make you nervous?”

Clarisse shrugged, “I already told you, I know what the test is going to say.”

“Yeah, well,” Silena sat back, “you’re extreme confidence can’t undo a pregnancy,”

“Silena -” Clarisse’s voice was soft and apologetic. But Silena cut her off again.

“No, no excuses. No ‘I know what it’s going to say.’ You’re three weeks late, there’s no denying that fact.”

“I’m not denying it! I’m trying to tell you -”

The time went off. Silena tilted her head towards the test. “Do you want to look at it?”

“You and look at it. I already told you, I know what it says,” Clarisse said.

Silena picked up the test. Two dark blue lines. No denying it now. She felt vindicated.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Yes,”

Silena turned the test to face Clarisse, “Because it says you’re pregnant.”

Clarisse smiled, waiting for Silena to catch on, “I know.”

“You ...?” Silena threw the test at Clarisse, but she dodged it, and it clattered to the floor. “You bitch!” Silena yelled while smiling. “You already knew and you didn’t tell me?!” Silena leaned in and hugged her tight.

“I was trying to tell you, but you weren’t letting me get a word in!”

Silena pulled away, “How long have you known?”

“We’ve known for like a week,” Clarisse told her.

“We? You told Chris before you told me?”

Clarisse looked confused, “He’s the father!”

“And I’m your best friend!”

“Not the same.”

Silena barely agreed that she was less important than Chris in this situation. "But still, if you’ve known for a week, and didn’t you tell me?”

“We haven’t really told anyone,” Clarisse said, “not even our parents. We’re waiting until I’m twelve weeks to make sure that everything is okay. There’s still a lot that could go wrong right now. So that means you can’t tell anyone.”

Silena rolled her eyes and smiled. “You know I always keep your secrets. But can I tell Chris that I know?”

Clarisse nodded, “We expected you to figure it out before we told you.”

“And you don’t think the guys will notices?”

Clarisse shook her head. “Men are clueless.”

“Wait,” Silena sat up straight. “When is it due?”

“Mid-June, so I won’t be pregnant for your wedding. I already checked.”

Silena relaxed back into the couch. “This is crazy. I mean, you don’t even have any pregnancy symptoms or anything.”

“Oh,” Clarisse corrected, “you were not in the Goode High School faculty bathroom this morning. Total blood bath.”

Silena shuddered, “Gross,” she said before perking back up. “If it’s a girl, can you name her after me?”

Clarisse rolled her eyes, “If it’s a girl we’re naming her after Chris’s mom.”

“What about middle name?”

Clarisse thought about it for a moment, “Maybe.”

“But I’m the godmother right?”

Clarisse smiled, “Of course,”

Silena squeezed and hugged Clarisse again. “Oh I am going to plan you the best baby shower of all time!”

Chris got home around six and walked into a familiar sight. Clarisse was at the table grading papers, Silena was flipping through one of her new bridal magazine.

“Hey Silena. Your wedding or someone else?” He asked pointing the magazine.

“Always both, Christopher, always both,” she said without looking up.

He walked over to Clarisse and kissed her hello. Silena watched them chat about their day for a few minutes, before Chris went to their bedroom to change.

Silena followed him; if Clarisse noticed, she didn’t show it, staying fixated on her students’ papers.

Silena walked in as Chris was pulling down his dress pants, which he quickly pulled back up. “Silena!”

“Oh it’s fine!” She said, walking in and sitting on his bed. He re-buttoned his pants, though, putting off getting changed until she left.

“What’s up?”

Silena smiled, “You’re having a baby,” She said in a sing-song voice.

Chris smiled but protested, “No, Clarisse is having a baby. I only contributed for like ten seconds.”

“Nope, nope,” Silena said, “you’re going to be a father, and, therefore, you are having a baby.”

Chris dug through his dresser drawer to find a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt. “Well, I’m not the one who almost peed their pants on the subway last week,” He said.

Silena gasped and laughed, “She did not!”

Chris shut his eyes tight, regretting what he had said. “You probably shouldn’t tell her I told you that. She’ll kill me,”

“Oh she sure will.”

“Can you leave now so I can’t dressed?”

Before Silena could leave, Clarisse walked in.

“So she’s knows,” Chris said.

“She figured it out,” Clarisse said.

“You peed your pants on the subway?” Silena asked.

Clarisse glared at Chris, who glared at Silena. “Almost,” Clarisse protested, “almost is the operative word in that sentence. I used the alley like a grown up.”

Clarisse laid down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Silena laid down next to her, curling up into Clarisse’s side.

These platonic “cuddle puddles,” as Silena called them, immigrated into their apartment from the Aphrodite cabin, and had become a staple of their group friendship over the last few years.

Clarisse wrapped an arm around Silena and pulled her in close. Chris got on the other side of Clarisse, laying on his side, and propping his head up in one hand.

“So you can pee in an alley but not when I’m talking to you?” Silena asked.

Clarisse laughed. “That was a pee-mergency. You making me take a redundant pregnancy test was not.”

“What?” Chris asked.

Silena explained the events of the day, but she faltered as she got to the end. She noticed that Chris’s hand had rested on Clarisse’s abdomen and was rubbing small circles where he imagined the baby to be. Clarisse clearly wasn’t listening to Silena at all and was instead looking up and watching Chris’s face as he reacted to the story.

Silena suddenly felt very overwhelmed with positive emotion for the couple. She had been so excited for her friend and for her own prospects as a godmother and baby-shower-planner that she failed to notice just how happy her friends were. Chris and Clarisse (who just last Forth of July had both nearly gotten alcohol poisoning in a competition to see who could take more tequila shots, for god’s sake) seemed completely happy, content, and calm. They seemed ready for it, somehow, like a couple in their thirties who had been trying for half a decade. They hadn’t just accepted the reality that they were going to be parents. They were excited about it.

“Silena,” Chris said, “are you -”

Silena cut him off with a sudden sob. Clarise turned to look at her. the couple pulled her into a hug as she blubbered out: “I’m just so happy for you two!”

“We’re really happy too,” Clarisse said. Chris smiled, leaned down, and kissed her, only breaking it when that tender moment made Silena cry harder. Silena’s melodramatic happy crying only made the couple laugh.

The puddle of bodies on Chris and Clarisse’s bed, both laughing and crying, was the strange sight Beckendorf came home to. “Everything okay in here?”

“Charlie!” Silena said, still crying. She reached out her arms to him, encouraging him to join them all on the bed.

“Why are you crying?” He asked her, sitting on the bed up by their heads.

Silena wiped her eyes. “Oh, you know me, I’m always crying.” Silena had promised to keep their secret, and damnit she was going to.

Clarisse just smiled. “That’s not true,” she said. Clarisse leaned over Silena’s body to get to the night stand drawer. She opened it and pulled out a sonogram photo from the week before. There was hardly anything in the picture except for wavy black lines, but there was a little peanut shaped thing the doctors told them was their baby.

She held the picture up for Beckendorf to see. His eyes went wide, “No way!” Chris and Clarisse nodded. “Congrats you guys!”

Silena took the sonogram from him. “You didn’t show me this!” Silena said. “You know what, when I get pregnant, I’m not going to tell you for two weeks.” Silena told her.

Clarisse just laughed, “We both know that’s not true.”

Silena wanted to protest, but Clarisse was right.

“So who else knows?” Beckendorf asked.

“Just you two,” Clarisse said, “we wanted to wait to tell people until we were twelve weeks. Our parents don’t even know.”

“But can we really have four out of seven of us know and not tell the other three?” Chris asked.

Clarisse took the sonogram from SIlena. “Let’s just hang this on the fridge next to their wedding invitation and see how long it takes for them to figure it out.”

“Oh absolutly not,” Silena said, “they’ll think I’m pregnant. Here,” Silena took the sonogram back and stood up. She grabbed a post-it note and a pen, and wrote Baby CR coming this June! With an arrow pointing at the little peanut. “Now you can hang it up.” Silena handed it to Clarisse.

“CR?” Clarisse asked.

“You guys have the same initials. And ‘la Rue-Rodriguez’ is too long for a post-it note.”

“Do you wanna hang it up?” Chris asked.

“Can you do it?” Clarisse asked.

“You can’t do it?” Chris asked.

Clarisse shook her head, “No, you see, I am pregnant so ...”

“So you can’t get up and hang things on the fridge?” he teased.

She smiled and patted his cheek. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Chris looked at Silena and Beckendorf. “This is going to be a long seven months for me, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” Clarisse protested, “I almost threw up in front of a room full of teenagers today. What did you do?”

“Helped keep a person charged with a first time drug offense from serving an over-inflated prison sentence.” Chris told her.

“That’s a really nice story, could you tell it to me while you’re making me something to eat?” Chris just laughed at her as he started to stand, but Silena took the sonogram and post-it from Clarisse and got off the bed first.

“How about this,” she offered, “I’ll hang it up, we’ll leave you two alone and order a pizza?”

Clarisse rolled over to look at Silena. “Is it too late for me to have your baby?”

Silena leaned down and kissed Clarisse’s cheek. “Unfortunately,” she said. She started out the door and Charlie followed her.

Silena hung the sonogram up the fridge, right next to her own wedding invitation and smiled.

“You know,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, “Chris and I can never tell if you and Clarisse are joking about you two leaving us for each other.”

Silena turned around and smiled. “It’s a joke for right now,” she said, “but should you and Chris ever prove to be unsatisfactory -”

Charlie grabbed her by the waist and sat her on the counter, situating himself in the V of her legs. “Well then,” he leaned in and kissed her, letting his hands trailed up her thighs, “I’d better keep you satisfied.”

Silena smiled against his mouth before asking. “When do you want to try and have a baby.”

Charlie pulled away and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “Whenever you want.”

“You’re not just saying that so I don’t run away with Clarisse?”

“No, I promise,” he smiled and kissed her again.

“Well,” she said in between kisses, “we have two-hundred and seventy-one days until the wedding. So,” she kissed him again, “how about we start trying in,” and again, “two-hundred and seventy-two days?”

Charlie smiled and kissed her again, “Sounds like a plan,”

~*~*~*

Notes

My goodness this was longer than I planned for it to be. It’s almost 3,000 words. Also I did that math, and their baby would be born in June of 2017. So the fanbaby is already two!

If you’ve ready my other ChrisXClarisse baby headcanons, which take place in the normal time line, some of this is familiar. Although I did bump their ages up a year. in the original headcanons, they are both still in their respective graduate schools. Here, I moved them up a year. I just felt like if all their friends were alive, their twenties would be a little more fun and less melancholy, so they would be less likely to keep a baby they conceived while still in school, even if they are soon-to-be graduates.

I also just really enjoyed exploring how Clarisse and Chris might be different (read: happier) had their friends never died. And what a relationship between Clarisse and Silena looks like nearly a decade later. (also sorry if it reads as queer-baity to anyone - the physical affection is based off of some of my own long-term female friendships. I am a queer woman so I am aware of how platonic physical female affection can sometimes read as fetishizing or queer baiting. But I didn’t want to leave it out, because I do believe that’s how their relationship to each other would develop had they been able to be friends for more than a year.)

#clarisse la rue #silena beauregard #chris rodriguez #charles beckendorf #charlena #chrisse #platonic ruegaurd

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antiquecompass · 5 years ago

Text

Untamed Spring Fest Day 7: Pastel

Wherein there is hair dye and easter egg hunts. Of a sort.

Mo Xuanyu had given his hair a rest over the winter. It’s something he did every few years, knowing that no matter how much product and head massages and professional shampoos and serums he used, dyeing his hair as often as he did wasn’t good for it, especially turning his naturally dark brown hair to his favored pastel colors. He still had some color of course. Hair chalk, little strands of hair tinsel, and even the old Kool-Aid method when he was bored, but by the time April rolled around it had been nearly six months since he’d dyed his hair. And to celebrate the coming of Spring, he decided to go full on mermaid hair.

At least, that was his intention when he’d left the house this morning for his appointment with Sunny.

“Can I try something new?” Sunny asked when he got there. “It’s called ‘oil slick.’ We’ll still give you the colors of the rainbow, but with less bleaching.” She ran her hands through his hair. “It’s just so healthy right now.”

“Your hard work,” he praised her.

“Yours too,” she said.

“Pictures?” he asked.

She handed him a tablet and he quickly thumbed through the references there. It was gorgeous and stunning and while not his normal pastels, still beautiful. He wanted it. Even if the coming of spring usually meant pastel for him, he could just paint his nails various easter egg colors. This was something different and exciting. He wanted to try it.

“Do it,” he said.

Sunny grinned at him, as bright as her name. “This is why you’re my favorite client.”

He was one of her first, back when they were both going through beauty school together. Her trying to raise a kid on her own and get her certifications; him trying to juggle beauty school and art school at the same time. They’d bonded over too much work and too much stress. He’d often volunteered to let her experiment with his hair and she’d always let him experiment on her with various make-up looks. It was a friendship that had grown from those early class days to years later; Sunny a renown hair stylist and Xuanyu an established part of the art scene, both in the theater and for his make-up looks. Make-up outside of his theater work was still more a hobby than anything else, but considering the company he kept these days, he’d ended up with a following on all his social media.

“Our lives are strange,” he said as Sunny nodded. “As soon as I get this done, you know you’re going to get people flocking here.”

“As long as I don’t fuck it up,” Sunny said.

“You won’t fuck it,” Xuanyu said. “And even if you do, we’ll make it work.”

**********

Sunny had not fucked it up. His appointment took far longer in the end, and even when she tried to refuse, he made sure to tip her double because they were friends, but this was still

business

and she’d done such an amazing job. She deserved to be more than compensated for taking up two entire blocks of her time. He couldn’t stop checking his hair as he waited for his ride to arrive.

Even if it had been two--nearly three--years since that summer, the one where everything changed, the Nies and most of Springfield Security had adopted Xuanyu as their own and were just slightly paranoid about his safety. With their impending wedding next-next winter, it had been decided by family council or, really, an entire group of stubborn assholes, that Xuanyu needed a driver. There were battles Mo Xuanyu would always fight; hills he would always die on; going against the over-protective instincts of the entire Nie family and most of its employees? Not even worth trying. Sometimes it was easier to give in.

The car that eventually pulled up was one of the standard Springfield Security fleet vehicles. When he opened the passenger side door, he was pleasantly surprised to see Zonghui behind the wheel.

“I thought you were still working a job,” he said as he settled in.

“Just finished this morning,” Zonghui said. He waited for Xunayu to buckle his seatbelt and then pulled out into traffic. “And I’m on another one now, or at least a family mission.”

Xuanyu glanced in the back and saw one of his overnight bags resting on the seat.

“Am I being kidnapped again?” he asked.

“Whisked away at the very least,” Zonghui said. “One last vacation for you two before the start of, what does he call it, hell season?”

Weddings. So many weddings. Golden Canary Events wasn’t even a wedding planning business and yet, because of his reputation alone, Huaisang had become one of the most sought after wedding planners in New England. For his own sanity, he only accepted seven weddings a year and most of those hit in either May or June.

One last weekend of peace and calm and nothing but the two of them? Yes, please.

“And this out of the way destination just so happens to be on your way to….”

Zonghui shook his head and groaned. “Not you too.”

“I’m just saying, considering the direction we’re going, I’m assuming it’s Huaisang’s favorite cabin, which just so happens to be in the same direction as the secluded mountain house Carson calls home, and, if I remember what my brother muttered over breakfast this morning correctly, Carson is currently on sick leave.”

Zonghui sighed. “He’s all alone out there.”

“No one to hear the screams, I suppose,” Xuanyu teased him.

“We’re just---we haven’t--I’m just concerned,” Zonghui said.

“Of course,” Xuanyu agreed. “Well, Jade Palace in the next town over has marvelous egg drop soup. If you’d want to get it, just to check on him, because you’re concerned and all.”

“Thank you,” Zonghui said. “You little brat.”

“Well, honestly, we’ve been in this car for nearly ten minutes already and you haven’t said a thing about my hair.”

It was nice to hear Zonghui laugh, his words muffled and broken as he tried to keep his eyes on the road and give Xuanyu the most saccharine sweet compliments through the wheezing breaks in his laughter.

*********

The cabin looked empty when he arrived. Xuanyu shrugged it off, figuring something had kept Huaisang in Boston. Xuanyu crouched down and shook the little turtle that served as their hide-a-key, palming the key and walking inside, quickly shutting off the alarm as he entered. He jumped back in shock as something crunched under his boot. He lifted it up and found a plastic easter egg there, a slip of paper falling out of it and its candy contents spilling out over the floor. He quickly gathered up the fallen Hershey Kisses and Hugs, before reading the slip of paper.

Huaisang’s beautiful calligraphy took up the entirety of the slip.

Come and see

Xuanyu dropped his bag on the couch and looked up in awe. The outdoors had been brought inside, the walls and ceilings decorated with greenery and flowers--fabric of course, but so lifelike. By the couch was a large, empty, pastel-colored easter basket and at the other end was another egg.

“I love that man,” Xuanyu told the room as he started his own little easter egg hunt.

Sixty-six eggs and another basket later (one egg for each month they’d known each other), Xuanyu finally found himself in the backyard. The deck was covered in hangings, lanterns, and twinkling fairy lights. And his fiancé sat there waiting for him, a large, ornate jeweled egg in his hand.

“How did you have time to plan all this?” Xuanyu said.

“There are entire binders devoted to our courtship,” Huaisang said. “You said you never got to participate in the Jin easter egg hunts.”

“This one is far more to my tastes,” Xuanyu said as he walked over to Huaisang. He left the full baskets of plastic eggs on the table and slid into Huaisang’s lap. “You’ve got me, you know. I don’t need the wooing.”

“I like the wooing,” Huaisang said. “You like it too, my golden pheasant, and you deserve it.”

Xuanyu laughed as he caressed Huaisang’s cheek. “I’m a golden pheasant today?”

Huaisang carefully put the jeweled egg to the side. He then rested his hands on Xuanyu’s hips. “With that hair of yours, perhaps I should call you my lilac-breasted roller?”

“No,” Xuanyu said.

“My nicobar pigeon?”

“Why do you know all of these?”

“My green-headed tanager?”

“Please, stop,” Xuanyu pleaded as he laughed.

“My blue bird of paradise?”

That sounded vaguely familiar, from one of the many nature documentaries they’d watched together.

“That’s the one the dances, isn’t it?” Xuanyu asked.

“Many of them dance,” Huaisang said.

“Right, but that’s the one goes all--” Xuanyu puffed up his cheeks and waved his arms about.

Huaisang cupped the back of his neck. “Not even a little bit, but I appreciate your mating dance.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Xuanyu said.

Huaisang laughed softly as he ran a hand through Xuanyu’s hair, holding the strands up to the light. “It’s holo, bitch,” he joked.

“It’s iridescent, get it right,” Xuanyu corrected.

“It suits you,” Huaisang said. “Dare I say, I even prefer it to the pastels? The pastels are gorgeous but this almost reminds me of when we met. Your hair was indigo then.”

“I could barely speak a word to you,” Xuanyu said as he recalled that day.

“You spoke all the right ones,” Huaisang said. “Had me hooked from the start.”

Xuanyu had been worried, once, years ago, that it was just because he was pretty. That wasn’t an arrogant statement, he’d been told often enough in his life, since he was very young, just how pretty he was and it had always brought him attention--both good and bad. He hadn’t known much about Huaisang back then, but he knew of Nie Huaisang and how he liked to collect pretty things. He’d been worried that he was just another thing to add to that collection, but then Huaisang had started their slow and steady courtship. Made Xuanyu feel like an Austen heroine. Made Xuanyu feel appreciated in so many ways, all the big and little things.

And then he did things like this, when their time away was supposed to be for Huaisang to relax.

“You could’ve just ordered a pizza and left the lights on,” Xuanyu said.

“But this is so much more my style,” Huaisang insisted. He nuzzled Xuanyu’s chin. “And trust me, many of those easter eggs contain things that will bring us both some joy and relaxation.”

“And rest,” Xuanyu said.

Huaisang smirked. “Rest wasn’t my top priority.”

Xuanyu gaped at him. “There are sixty-five unread slips of paper in there.”

“Then we better order dinner and get started.”

#long post #verse: lahl #sangyu #fic: i will become what i deserve #fandom: the untamed #untamed spring fest #my ridic writing

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years ago

Photo

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Two - Beatrice and Bertrand make a Grave Error

The Baudelaire children usually didn’t go out on their own. It wasn’t that their parents didn’t trust them, but there had been several instances where they had to drop everything and immediately leave town, and Beatrice and Bertrand were absolutely terrified that one day their children would be too far away for them to pick up, and they’d end up separated, and then somehow the world would explode. But sometimes, if the kids were reasonably cautious, they could take a day to themselves.

Violet was sitting at the edge of the beach, tying back her hair. “Klaus, at what angle are the prevailing currents?”

Klaus pulled a book from the basket, reading aloud from the chart inside. Beside them, Sunny gnawed on a rock, gave it a glare, and then tossed it aside, reaching for one that wasn’t sandstone.

“Of course, we’ll need the right projectile.” Klaus said.

“That’s where Sunny comes in.” Violet said. “How you doing, sweetie?”

Sunny smiled and held up the stone, now perfectly flat. “Asill!” she called, meaning something akin to, “Ready!”

Violet pushed back the picnic basket, and stood, waving the rock in her hand.

“Excuse me, Violet,” Klaus said, “Why are you using your left hand?”

“I’m curious to see if I can throw as far with my left as I can with my right.”

“I thought this was to gather data, though.”

“My invention may need to differentiate between dominant and non-dominant hands.”

“I guess that’s true. Mark the rock.”

“Shit, I almost forgot.” Violet said. She knelt down, opening up the basket, and pulling out some chalk from underneath the canned food. “Here it is.” She drew a large X, and then stood up again and skipped. The three siblings watched as the rock tossed itself across the water and then, after Klaus called out nine skips, Violet handed him her ribbon and dove in.

Sunny cheered as the siblings were splashed. She loved getting wet and messy, though she knew it was a bad thing, as they only had a few clothes at a time. “Luto!” she cheered, meaning, “Get mud on us next!”

“Sunny, no.” Klaus sighed, pulling a dry shirt from the basket to wipe his glasses.

“Ye!” Sunny said, which meant something like, “Sunny, yes!”

Klaus replaced his glasses and looked back to the water, to see Violet emerging several feet away, her hair pressed against her face. She held up the rock, and called, “How far?”

“What?”

“How far?”

“What?”

Violet sighed and swam closer, eventually making her way back onto the sand, now dripping wet. “I said, ‘how far?’” She repeated, handing Klaus the rock.

“Oh.” Klaus considered, absent-mindedly pocketing the stone, and then told her his best guess.

“We’ll need exacts, of course,” Violet said, squeezing her hair, and then shaking like a dog. “We’ll need some kind of measuring device.” She took her ribbon from Klaus, tying her hair back again. “I need a measuring device. Portable and waterproof. Sunny-”

“Gack!” Sunny shouted, pointing ahead. “Look at that mysterious figure emerging from the fog!”

The children looked up; the beach was, indeed, quite foggy, and up ahead, was some sort of figure moving towards them.

Violet immediately tensed up, and grabbed the basket, slamming it shut and flipping the lock. Klaus lifted Sunny, who leaned into his shoulder and squinted her small eyes.

“It only seems scary because of all the mist.” Klaus said.

Violet looked very carefully, and then instantly relaxed. She dropped the basket to the ground, and ran forwards.

“Mother! Father!”

Klaus’s face brightened, and he also ran with his big sister, lifting Sunny higher as she cheered. Out of the mist, Beatrice ran forwards, enveloping her daughter in a tight hug.

“Do we- Father!” Klaus squealed as Bertrand also hugged him, then decided to go the extra mile and spin him and Sunny around. Sunny laughed and threw up her arms as if they were on a ride, while Klaus just said, “Dad! Come on!”

“I assume this isn’t urgent, then?” Violet laughed, as Beatrice let her go and looked her over.

“No. Why are you all wet?”

“I jumped in the water to get a rock.”

“Well, okay. So long as your clothes dry-”

“These will be fine, they’re the right material.”

“Is it time to go already?” Klaus asked. “We only just stopped looking at fish and tide pools and just started skipping rocks.”

“Sorry, Klaus.” Bertrand said, putting him and Sunny down and straightening Sunny’s bonnet. “But the post office is closed for the weekend, which means we can get into the attic if we hurry before the custodians lock the doors.”

“Will Lemon Man send us a telegram?” Violet asked, in a sing-song voice; she’d come up with the half-rhyme when she was eight, to entertain Klaus.

“We hope so. His last message said he should be speaking soon.” Beatrice said, her face lighting up a little.

“And,” Bertrand smiled slightly, “When we get there, we have a surprise for you children.”

“Cake?” Sunny asked, excited.

“No, afraid not.” Bertrand laughed, and he took Klaus’s hand. “Come on, let’s hurry it up before we have to climb through the window.”

Beatrice creaked open the backdoor to the post office, peered inside, and then waved and went in. Violet followed cautiously, holding onto Sunny with one arm and Klaus’s hand with the other. Bertrand took up the rear, glancing behind them every now and again just to make sure they hadn’t been followed.

Violet remembered a few years ago- she’d had to have been ten or eleven- when they had been followed. Beatrice had quietly asked her if she recognized the man in the black hat behind them at the bookstore, and Violet realized he’d been a few tables away at the café, and Klaus muttered that he’d been at the same grocery store. Beatrice and Bertrand had taken them down several aisles of the shop they were in, zig-zagging best they could, before going out into the road, running wildly down several streets until they found a crowd, pushing through it, and then picking a well-populated spot to sleep- a homeless shelter, where thankfully nobody asked questions, and a nice lady taught Violet and Klaus how to play clapping games. But even then, Violet remembered a dread in the pit of her stomach, one that didn’t go away until they were three towns away, and the black-hat man made no further appearance, and Klaus had already forgotten the incident and almost ran away to chase a cat.

She hated that dread, and now she had two siblings to help her parents look after, one of whom had no sense of fear. But at least they weren’t completely helpless; Sunny was quite the biter, and though Klaus was a slower learner than her, he could hold his own in a fight at least long enough for backup to arrive. They could run, they could hide. And they were all on the lookout for followers, anyone they recognized too many times- or sometimes even specific people. Every now and again, Mother or Father would see something in the newspaper, and turn it around and point to someone and warn them that person was an enemy- either from VFD or against, it didn’t matter. They were an enemy to their parents, and therefore the children.

Beatrice directed them away from a room with some noise inside- probably a janitor, making sure everything was clean and locked up- and herded them towards a staircase. There, she signalled them several numbers with her hands- two, fifteen, twenty-seven. The stairs that creaked. Violet went up first, swiftly skipping the steps, while Klaus took a bit longer, watching to make sure Violet skipped the step before doing so himself. Even Sunny fell silent, which was very nice; it had taken them quite some time to convince her that, yes, she had to stop humming or crying or giggling when they needed to be quiet.

Beatrice finally pushed open the door to the attic, and peered in, lighting a candle that lay beside the door. The small room flickered with the dim light, and Violet’s eyes flickered, too, as she saw the old telegrams stored around them.

“These still work.” Beatrice nodded as Violet put Sunny down, reaching again for her ribbon. “Take one apart if you want, but leave at least one working, in case Lemony contacts us.”

“Loco?” Sunny asked, which meant something like, “He knows where we are?”

“He has a… general idea.” Bertrand explained, as Klaus put the basket by the wall and he closed the door. “We never tell anyone exactly where we are, Sunny.”

“But more importantly,” Beatrice knelt by the ground, and her children quickly sat around her, forming a circle with a space left for their father, “Our surprise. Are you ready?”

“Mother, of course we are.” Klaus tried to hide his smile.

“Enough with the theater kid reveal, just tell us.” Violet said.

Beatrice made a pouting face. “What? Too dramatic for you?”

“We’re not babies, Mom.”

“Dis,” Sunny said, which meant, “That’s offensive.”

“Shut up, Sunny, you wanna see, too.”

Bertrand sat inbetween his two youngest children, looking more excited than they were, and said, “Bea, dear, show them what we got.”

Beatrice smiled so, so brightly, and then she reached into her jacket pocket, and whipped out a deck of cards.

The Baudelaires immediately lost their minds.

“Holy shit!” Klaus shouted, forgetting that they should still be quiet and also that he probably shouldn’t swear in front of his parents.

“Oh my God!” Violet started bouncing up and down, a dazzling glee spread across her face. “Oh my God! You got some? We can have some? For a while?”

“Pok!” Sunny screamed, which meant something like, “You’ll teach me to play, right? You said you would!”

Beatrice also bounced slightly, dropping the pack onto the floor in front of Sunny, who immediately grabbed it and bit into the plastic wrap to open it. “Yes! There was some in the convenience store, and since it’s finally warm enough we could ditch one pack of matches, so we have room for these now!”

“I’ll deal!” Klaus took the cards from Sunny, while she continued to bite into the plastic. “What are we playing first?”

“Pesca!” Sunny said. “Go fish!”

“Or,” Beatrice took a card from Klaus, “I could show you some tricks!”

“Yes! Yes!” Violet cheered. She quickly turned to Sunny and said, “Mother’s card tricks are the best. She can make them disappear!”

Sunny gave her a look of disbelief. “Jan,” she said, which meant, “Yeah, right.”

“Well, Sunny,” Beatrice said, showing her the ace of hearts, “If you think so…” Then, with a swish of her hand, the card was gone.

Violet and Klaus clapped, while Bertrand laughed. Sunny, however, widened her eyes in shock, and then she let out a wail.

Beatrice’s face fell. “Oh, no, Sunny, look, I can bring it back!” She waved her hand, and the ace of hearts was in her hand again.

Sunny stopped crying, a look of amazement on her face. “Wow!” she clapped.

“Now,” Bertrand said, “I was thinking about Patience. Klaus, do you want to show Sunny how to play?”

Klaus nodded, spreading out the cards. “See, Sunny, here the symbols don’t matter, but the numbers and colors. You know what numbers to look for, right?”

“Dec!” Sunny said, which meant, “One through Ten!”

“Good. Then after Ten comes the Jack, the Queen, and the King. Now, can you remember them in descending order?”

“Toidi.” “Yes, Klaus, I’m not an idiot.”

Klaus spread out the cards, and they all spread out, calling out cards they thought they could play. This continued for quite some time, to the point where Beatrice had to light a second candle so they could keep playing, and Sunny had to make sure nobody saw her yawn and would make her go to bed.

“Who taught you how to play cards?” Violet asked, after a while.

“My foster mother.” Bertrand said. “Beatrice learned from…”

He trailed off, but Beatrice finished. “From my chaperone.”

They fell silent. Then, Klaus said, “Well, I bet they didn’t think that part of the game would be trying to keep an infant from eating the- Sunny, stop it!”

Sunny put down the queen of spades, huffing. That was enough to brighten the mood again, and Beatrice let out a loud laugh, almost doubling over. “S-Sunny, please- please, they’re not food.”

“Doo,” Sunny said, which meant, “Everything’s food if you eat it.”

“Sunny.” Bertrand laughed.

“God, you’re going to be a disaster when you get older.” Violet giggled, placing a card down.

“Xis,” Sunny huffed, which meant something like, “No, I’m going to be the Queen, so bow to me, peasants.”

“Now, Sunny,” Bertrand chided, “That’s no way to talk to your loyal subjects.”

“Loyal my ass,” Violet snorted. “We’re throwing her down the garbage chute first chance we get. Too much dead weight.”

“Bapa!” “I’ll show you who’s dead weight!”

Sunny launched herself at Violet, barely shaking her balance. Violet, though, flopped on the ground, crying, “Oh no! The Queen has gone mad with power!”

“The Queen is attacking the Royal Scientist!” Klaus shouted, before picking Sunny up and waving her in the air. “Off with her head!”

“Viva la Revolución!” Violet cheered from the floor.

“Now, now,” Beatrice laughed, “Does the Empress have to step in?”

“No, the Empress can go make out with the Emperor.” Klaus said, as he tossed Sunny into the air and caught her again.

“Well, if you insist-” Bertrand said.

“Dad, no! Not in front of the baby!”

“I’m baby!” Sunny cheered, as Klaus tossed her again.

But before they could say any more, they heard a telegram machine start up.

Beatrice immediately leapt to her feet, rushing to the machine that was printing out a small paper for them. Bertrand froze, eyes wide.

“Lemon Man has sent us a telegram!” Klaus said.

Violet didn’t join in his laughter, though, instead inspecting her parents’ faces. Whenever she was present for the receiving of a telegram, her parents always had the same look, a mixture that took her several experiences to decipher. First, in their jumble of instant emotions, was an excitement- whether positive or negative depended on how much of a jam they were in, though her parents made sure that they were never in too much danger to begin with. Second was relief, because it meant Snicket knew where they were and could send them news, though it was always in code. Third was a fear, fear that this would be horrible news, or someone else’s message, telling them that Snicket had been captured and someone was coming for them. Last, and hardest to figure out- in fact, Violet only placed it now, as Beatrice returned with the paper, showing it to Bertrand, who took out a pen to help decode- was a longing. She wondered what the longing was for- for the life they’d left behind, or just for their friend. They’d always seemed very fond of Lemony, whenever they discussed him; they must have been incredibly close.

“He hasn’t used this code in a while.” Beatrice snorted. “Finally remembered it existed.”

“Yeah, he’s gotta stop using Sebald. Too wordy.” Bertrand said.

“First of all, that’s just how Lemony is.” Beatrice said. “Second, bold words coming from ‘attempting a botanical hybrid through the tuberous canopy, which should bring safety to fruition despite its dangers to our associates in utero.’”

“Hell, Bea, you still have that memorized?”

“I’m an actress, dear, memorization is my job.”

“Get a room!” Klaus said, rolling his eyes and bouncing Sunny on his lap, where she had started to eat her bonnet.

“You need any help with that, Mother?” Violet asked, peering over at her parents circling letters and scribbling them at the paper’s edge.

“Thank you, Vi, but I think we’ve got it.” Beatrice said. She got to the last sentence, and said, “Alright, let’s see what our silence knot has for us today.”

Her and Bertrand’s eyes widened, however, as they read the message, and Violet could see a flash of fear. Shit. That wasn’t good news.

“Mother? What does it say?” Klaus asked, his face falling. Slowly, Violet started to pick up the playing cards.

Beatrice scanned the note, as if hoping that it would say something different. Then, quietly, she read.

HURRY. YOU ARE IN DANGER. I CAN KEEP YOU SAFE BUT YOU MUST RETURN TO THE CITY. MAY BE ABLE TO CLEAR YOUR NAMES. BRING ALL ASSOCIATES. O IS NEARBY. -YSK

Violet knew “YSK” was Lemony’s way of signing off- Your Silence Knot, some kind of inside joke they shared- and she knew that O was one of the people they were running from- what was his name again? Omar? But it didn’t matter what she knew; the message chilled her.

“The city?” Klaus’s voice grew quiet. “You said that’s where we were running from.”

“We shouldn’t be there.” Violet said.

Beatrice shut her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Bertrand was the first one to respond. “Children, we trust Lemony more than anyone else on this planet- except you, of course. If he says…” he trailed off. “God, this is risky.”

“He wouldn’t ask us to do it if it wasn’t important.” Beatrice whimpered- the children had never known their mother to whimper.

“Are we sure it’s him?”

“Nobody else would sign off with YSK, or know our location.”

“How can Olaf be nearby?” Olaf, that was it!

“Which one is Olaf again?” Klaus asked.

Bertrand drew in a sharp breath. Beatrice shook slightly, and said, “He’s… he’s the one we wronged.”

Violet and Klaus went pale, while Sunny just looked up in confusion. “Whazzit?” she asked, but nobody responded.

“Are you… gonna tell us what happened?” Klaus prodded, and Violet elbowed him.

“We… we can discuss that when we’re safe.” Beatrice said. “We’ll have to move quickly. If we catch a train tonight, we should be there by morning.”

“Do you have money?”

“I have enough. We can put Sunny in the basket if someone wears an extra jacket, so we don’t have to pay for her ticket.”

“Sure.” Sunny nodded, excited to do some sneaking.

“Should we really bring the children?” Beatrice asked, glancing towards them.

“Lemony said to bring all associates. Who else could he mean? He must have some kind of plan, right?”

“Maybe he wants us to invite the designated safe people.”

“It would take a while for all your safehouse peeps to show up.” Violet mentioned. Their parents had them all memorize the addresses of places to go if they got separated, but she doubted Lemony would know which houses they were- or, indeed, if the people living there knew they were a safehouse.

Beatrice glanced back down at the telegram, running her hand over the message. Then, quietly, she said, “Do you think he could really clear our names?”

Bertrand met her gaze, and they were clearly asking the same question- do we want him to?

“So,” Violet interrupted, knowing her parents were thinking terrible things and not wanting that to continue for much longer, “Does this mean we get to meet our mysterious Lemony man?”

Beatrice and Bertrand each took a deep breath, and then Bertrand said, “Yes.”

Klaus smiled brightly, and he picked up Sunny. “What are we waiting for, then?”

Beatrice grabbed her husband’s hand, and as the children ran to get all their bags and make sure they had everything, she whispered, “We’re seeing him again.”

“We’re seeing him again.” Bertrand repeated, his voice just as full of hope as hers.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #asoue au #runaway baudelaires au #asoue fanfiction #mine #my fanfic #the bad beginning #all those things they couldn't say

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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

Text

A story by heroes and vilains

Virgil Anker: a chance at change

Changes can be thrust upon you, or made by choice. Virgil has to make a few though decisions this year.

Virgil’s first day of his sophomore year started as a complete disaster. Over the summer his father had started on a ‘project’ he didn’t want to talk about at home. Which was weird. His dad loved talking about work. It was one of the few things that consistently got him excited. Last night he’d worked late, like really late, and Virgil hadn’t been able to bring himself to even go to his room. Instead he sat on the stairs, staring at the front door until his dad came through. After reading that headline that placed the horrible possibility of his father’s secret in his head he’d stopped searching. He’d bolted out of the library and into the park where he curled up under a tree, hid himself with his powers and proceeded to panic for what he later found out was a good hour. He’d always been a worrier and this discovery gave him so much to worry about. What if his father was Brain Storm? What if he was still a bad guy? What if he wasn’t but someone from his past was blackmailing him? What if he’d lose him when people found out? What if this project was something dangerous and something bad had happened? When his dad came home Virgil did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He jumped into his father’s arms and hugged him tight. The panic he’d been keeping at bay all night rushing over him all at once. It took his dad a while to calm him down. Then he’d put him to bed with the promise of a serious talk after school. Then, of course, Virgil had overslept. His dad always left very early and usually Virgil was very punctual. But today he got up way too late and had to rush out the door. He barely took the time to shower, not even waiting for the water to get warm or to dry his hair properly. For breakfast he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth after which he rushed to the bus stop praying he’d still magically make it to the last buss that would get him to school on time. He had no such luck. When he finally arrived at school he rushed to get his late slip and thanked the heavens that the secretary seemed to feel enough pity for his sorry state to spare him a lecture and just gave him his schedule and told him the quickest way to his first class. “I hope you like where you are sitting…” The teacher’s voice faded out as he finally arrived in class. She looked at him, clearly not happy with his late arrival. “Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker,” she greeted with a clipped voice. Virgil did his best to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at him. Maybe he should try and figure out if he could use his cloak in reverse and make himself blind to the presence of other people. He pulled his hood off as he muttered an apology and tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. The teacher pointed to the back of the class. “Take your seat and spare me your excuses. I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year,” she then continued addressing the class. “So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil felt dread fill his stomach. Great a lab partner. And he got stuck with whoever was left sitting alone. He followed the teacher’s gesture and soon spotted the only empty seat in the second to last row in the back. He felt all tension leave his body as he saw that on the spot next to it sat none other than Roman Castile. Maybe today wouldn’t suck as much as he thought it would. The theater kid gave him a playful smirk and a wave. Virgil smiled back and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Man, talk about a lucky break.” “I agree,” Roman grinned. Before Virgil could say anything else, like ‘hi, how was your summer?’, the teacher started class and she was clearly not someone Virgil wanted to get upset at him. Soon they were given their first experiment. He and Roman were laughing, cracking jokes and throwing out nicknames and mild jabs the entire time and still finished early. Virgil couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach. Roman was cute when he was having a good time. He was so gay for this guy. Trying to look like he was perfectly comfortable with his lack of sleep, breakfast and zero minutes spent with so much as a brush, he leaned back in his chair and looked at Roman curiously. “So how did you end up sitting alone in the back, princey?” There was no way Roman voluntarily hid so far out of sight from everyone else and so far from his usual friend seated in the front row. Roman looked a little awkward at the nickname. “Princey?” he repeated. Virgil rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh come on, you are clearly destined to be prom king senior year. And every king is a prince first,” he teased. Surely he knew that he was the most popular guy of their year? “Fair enough,” Roman allowed with a brief gesture of surrender. “I was last to arrive,” he explained with a shrug. “Simple as that. I didn’t sleep well last night and didn’t get up until my mother kicked me out of bed. She was busy with an order or she would’ve noticed sooner and dad was at the office, so he couldn’t drag me to the breakfast table either.” He made a gesture that seemed to say ‘what can you do?’ “You?” he asked. Virgil couldn’t help but make a face as he thought about the horrible morning he’d had. “Until an hour ago I was convinced the universe just hated me today, let’s leave it at that.” Roman chuckled, but not in a mean way. Then he got this look that Virgil knew meant he was about to be dramatic. “Ah, fate does work in mysterious ways my friend. It must have willed us to team up for this treacherous quest.” ‘How is he this much of a dork? And why do I like that about him?’ Virgil wondered as he laughed at his lab partner’s antics. He just couldn’t help it. Roman just had that effect on him. “Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” he told his classmate. A playful light flickered in Roman’s eyes at that. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” he shot back. Virgil forced himself not to show how flustered he felt at being compared to a kitten. Did that mean Roman thought he was cute? And knight? That was a good thing right? Still, he had some kind of reputation he had to uphold. So he gave Roman a playful shove. “You take that back! I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Roman didn’t look like he was going to take it back. He looked like he took his protest as a challenge. But then Virgil saw a wad of paper hit his neighbor in the head and Roman’s mood immediately turned sour. Virgil was not far behind. There was only one person he could think of who would provoke the coolest kid in their year like that. Couldn’t Jan let him enjoy himself without him for five minutes? “What gives Bullard?” Roman hissed as they turned around. Virgil hated to see the look on his oldest friend’s face, the sneer, the jealousy. Because it was definitely jealousy that had Janus so worked up about Roman. “You take Smellington next time,” the boy next to Janus flinched in his seat and shot Virgil a pleading look. He recognized him. Virgil had stood up for him to upper classmen several times in the past. “Virgil is sitting with me.” That made Virgil mad like never before. He couldn’t just make decisions about his life like that! “Excuse me?” Roman seethed. “His name is Carlton.” “And you don’t get to say where I sit J,” Virgil added barely keeping his voice down. “I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” And once again Virgil found himself grateful for something that at first seemed like a bad thing. The teacher might have half a mind to give Virgil detention the second he gave her an excuse, but she also won’t let Janus have his way. Janus was a smooth talker and it got him out of trouble all the time. How Virgil didn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain it wouldn’t work this time around. “We always sit together!” Janus protests, there is a little bit of hurt hidden behind his indignation, but Virgil won’t let it get to him. Not this time. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Really why can’t he have one hour to spend with someone else? “Am I interrupting?” Virgil heard a cold voice from behind him causing him, and the other three students to freeze in shock and turn to face the teacher. She was directing her eyes at Janus. Virgil was right, his friend’s usual tricks would not work this time. “Mr. Bullard, I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now,” she informed him in a dangerous tone. Two tardy students was clearly already more than she wanted to put up with on the first day of class. Virgil looked back at his friend and watched as Janus gave her his trademark ‘persuasive look’ his voice becoming honey like. Virgil had watched this get him extensions on projects, a better grade on those he had turned in… It was weird, and Virgil almost thought it might be a gift, but Janus would tell him, if no one else. Not to mention it didn’t always work. A gift should be more consistently successful shouldn’t it? “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” The statement was firm and final and Virgil tried not to show how relieved he felt. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence. You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now. And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castille and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” Virgil was a bit surprised to hear all this. It seemed like the teacher had forced Janus to let Carlton sit next to him before Virgil or Roman arrived. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with her statement, but he wasn’t going to argue with the result. Virgil shot Carlton a reassuring smile, he’d make sure Janus would behave himself. There was no need for any fallout to affect him.

The teacher left and both he and Roman turned back around in their seats. “Sorry about that.” Virgil had no clue what possessed Roman to say that, but he was not having it. “I should be apologizing. He’s my friend and he was bothering you.” Possibly not for the first time. Why had Roman never mentioned it? “Yeah, but I did something to piss him off… Don’t know what, but he hates me. And if you were my best friend and some dude I hated was being all charming with you, I wouldn’t like it either.�� Virgil laughed in relief. He was glad Roman seemed to understand what had Janus so worked up. And while he’d love to protest the ‘he hates me’ bit, he couldn’t. So he focused on getting back to teasing each other and enjoying themselves. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” His jab had the desired effect. All conflict and worry left Roman’s face and he returned to his dramatic self. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Virgil laughed and allowed himself to enjoy the way being called his knight made his heart flutter. “Thanks… I needed that. J isn’t so bad, but he can be…” Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say. “Yeah, not your fault,” Roman assured him before perking up. “Hey, why don’t you two come sit with us over lunch? Maybe if he feels included, he’ll calm down?” he suggested. Virgil’s eyes widened. That would actually be kind of amazing! Half of Janus’ thing was that he thought they were on the ‘outcast’ side of school hierarchy. If they both got into the ‘cool’ group then he could relax and go back to being the Janus Virgil would gladly do anything for. “You sure?” he asked hopefully. “Of course. My friends all think you are cool and they’ll think Janus is cool too, once he gives them a chance.” Virgil really wanted to accept, but a voice in the back of his head pointed out that this was too good to be true. What if Janus was right and he was unknowingly walking them both in a trap where Janus would end up feeling hurt and betrayed and never want to talk to Virgil again, leaving him with a choice between being all alone or following Roman around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of high school? Another, more rational voice pointed out that Roman had never exhibited any behavior that suggested he’d do that. That voice sounded a lot like his dad, and his dad usually made more sense than the bad voice. Still, why would Roman offer to put up with Janus? “You don’t like him. How do you know they will?” “I don’t like how he talks to me,” Roman admitted. Well, that was only fair. Virgil wasn’t very fond of the way Janus talked to people in general the past year either. “But he’s your friend, so how bad can he be?” His endorsement was that valuable? And had Roman mentioned that his other cool friends thought Virgil was cool too? When did that happen? Maybe, maybe sophomore year could be a new start. “Okay, I’ll suggest it.”

He should’ve known better. “Absolutely not!” Janus had huffed. “Jan, it’s just lunch. If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” Janus rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Roman wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.” “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve! Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this? He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts? Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil pointed out. Janus hesitated and then he leaned in, too close for Virgil’s comfort, and he spoke in that tone. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Virgil tried not to flinch. Did Janus know? No, he couldn’t know. Still, Virgil had to remember that he could hear everything he and Roman said to each other. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” And Virgil believed him. So he followed Janus to an empty table in the cafeteria. He saw Roman perk up, smile and wave when he spotted them. And he wanted so badly to just turn to him and go sit with Roman, Janus could either join or eat alone if that made him happy. But he didn’t. He smiled apologetically and shrugged, indicating he tried. The way Roman’s face fell in disappointment made his heart break just a little. He was mad at himself for being so weak. The rest of the day he sulked, not talking to Janus at all, not that his friend seemed to care. He apparently was of the opinion that Virgil would come around soon enough. Virgil wasn’t so sure. The sadness and anger he felt about the whole thing didn’t seem to go away like it usually did.

And then there was the talk with his father. “Home!” he called out as he tossed his keys over the hook at the door. “Kitchen!” his dad called back sounding tense. Virgil took a deep breath and joined his father at the kitchen table, gratefully accepting the cup of tea. “Virgil, I want you to know that you are not in trouble. I am not mad or upset with you in any way. Alright?” Clearly he wasn’t as good at hiding his nerves as he’d hoped. He nodded. “Last night… Was that the first time you went through something like that?” Virgil looked down. He knew he had to be honest with his dad right now… But it wasn’t an easy thing to admit. “No… Sometimes I just think too much and I worry and then I freak out and… It always passes, but it’s…” He feels tears spring up in his eyes. He feels so stupid. Who freaks out over some stupid thoughts? Not his dad. He’s rational and calm and in control. “Frightening I’m sure.” Virgil looked up in surprise at his father’s understanding tone. “Virgil,” he began as he pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards him. “I have a list for you, I’d like you to read over it and indicate next to each item how often you experience them on a monthly basis. It’s important to me that you are honest. I have a suspicion of what may be causing this, but I get that talking about it might be hard for you. Therefor I provided you with this as a way to boil it down to simple facts. Can you do this for me?” Virgil nodded and accepted the paper and pen. He started reading and writing. He tried not to think too much about how bad it was that there were so many things he experienced at least once a week if not several times a day. When he finished, he almost didn’t want to return it to his dad. Would he be disappointed? “It’s alright Virgil. I know I’m not always, good, at expressing my emotions, but I do love you. More than I expected to when I first agreed to take care of you. Nothing could prepare me for how much I love you and how proud I am to call you my son. Whatever you wrote down, won’t change that.” Virgil took in a deep breath and shoved the paper forward. There it was gone. Silence lingered for a moment as his father read the paper and nodded to himself. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this on your own Virgil. Can I ask for how long?” Virgil frowned and thought about that. “Um… start of last school year? I didn’t notice it was bad until shortly after Christmas though. I was in the park and started freaking out. After that I was more aware of it I guess,” he explained. His father simply nodded. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?” he asked worriedly. Because the first time I freaked out it was because I thought you might be a former super villain and I didn’t know how to even begin explaining that. “I… I wanted to… but then I started freaking out about freaking you out and…” he forced himself to take a slow breath and a sip of his tea. “I just figured I could deal.” Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Virgil, I think you might suffer from heightened levels of anxiety. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you. I would like for you to talk to someone about it though. If only to help you figure out a way to handle these attacks and the thoughts that come with this better so it doesn’t have to interfere too much with your life. Does that sound agreeable?” “A shrink?” Virgil asked nervously. His dad nodded. “I know there is a stigma against it… But my psychiatrist has helped me a great deal with your mother’s death. I hope he, or one of his colleagues can help you with your anxiety.” This came as a surprise. “You… you went to therapy?” He always seemed to be so in control of his life though. “Still do from time to time,” his dad nods simply. Virgil thinks about it for a moment. Well, it couldn’t hurt to see what whoever this doctor was had to say right? If he has his dad’s approval… “Okay… just… can this stay between you and me?” he pleaded. He wasn’t sure how Janus would respond to him having anxiety. Knowing him he’d probably become even more protective and he didn’t need that in his life. His dad nodded in understanding. “If that makes you more comfortable.” “Thanks,” Virgil smiled. Then he finished his tea and excused himself to make homework. His dad got him a first appointment for the start of October.

Things didn’t change much for him in that time honestly. Roman grabbed every opportunity to talk to Virgil and tried to coax him into conversation. And he would love to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy the hour they shared as well as the stolen moments where they ‘ran into each other’ or where they defended the same kid. But, he just couldn’t do it. The doctor was a unique individual. Virgil wasn’t sure how well they’d get along at first. “Now, Virgil, I can call you Virgil right?” Picani asked kindly. He was nice, but also… extra. Even Roman might think he was a bit too intense. “Sure,” he mumbled in response, toeing of his shoes and curling up in a ball on the couch. He didn’t miss the fact that Picani took note of that. “Well, I’ve heard why your father thinks you should be here, but what I’d like to know, Virgil, is why you want to be here. Are you just looking for some medication, some breathing techniques or are there some things you actually want to talk about?” Virgil looked at the doctor long and hard to see what his angle was. He couldn’t find one. And it was a good question. What was he doing here if there was so much he couldn’t share? He shrugged. “Not sure… I know my dad wants to help. But…” Picani made a dismissive gesture. “Your father isn’t my patient right now. You should only come here if it’s something you want. Your dad will just have to learn from Jazz Fenton’s example,” Picani smirked. Virgil chuckled. “Well, he’s a lot like her, he just might.” “Oh?” Picani’s eyes lit up. Virgil didn’t know this but it wasn’t often that his patients saw the show he was referencing and indulged in the analogy. “You know, not as serious as he likes to believe he is. Well-meaning and levelheaded most of the time… supportive of his loved ones… but he could maybe be a bit more accepting and patient I guess.” “I was indeed getting at the patient part. Jazz did a great job waiting for her brother to be ready to ask her for help and offered him aid from the sidelines. Protecting him from their parents’ antics in the process.” “But she still thought she knew better than him and while she accepted his powers she didn’t get him until they actually sat down and talked,” Virgil countered. Picani cocked his head curiously. “I mean… I’m bi, and my dad is very accepting of that. And he tries to encourage me when I do art, even if he doesn’t really get it. But… I feel like he expects me to tell him everything, but he’s hiding so much… this is between you and me right?” He was pretty sure that was a rule, but he preferred to check. “Until you give me the ok, your secrets are locked up in here,” the doctor tapped his head and then his notebook, “Safer than in a secret vault.” Virgil smirked. “Figured you’d be a potterhead too. Huffelpuf I assume?”Picani nodded proudly. “But we’re getting of track. You were saying?” Virgil sighed once more. “Right. You probably know that I’m adopted?” he verified. “That was in your paperwork, but I wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted,” the doctor acknowledged calmly. “Well… I’ve come to terms with that, really, I’m not ashamed or anything. But I know nothing about my birth parents. I ask about them, and Lo… dad,” he hates it, but sometimes his father’s surname slips into his mind, especially when he thinks about his birthparents. Never in front of him, but still, he finds himself thinking it more and more often. And he feel really bad about it. “You can address him however you’re comfortable Virgil. I won’t say a word.” Virgil nodded. “Logan won’t tell me anything. I don’t have any pictures or their names and I know he knew them. I want to understand that it’s hard for him for whatever reason. But I want to know where I come from.” Picani nodded calmly. “And this secrecy… could that be what brings out some of the anxiety you’ve been experiencing?” Virgil nodded. “It’s not the only thing though,” he admitted and before he knew it, he told Picani all about how things had changed between him and Janus and the feelings he was developing for Roman who was completely out of his league. Picani was understanding and careful about how he addressed the Janus situation. He did encourage him to accept Roman’s attempts to reach out to him.

Virgil agreed to make another appointment with the doctor and he really wanted to make an effort with Roman. But he was much too scared of being rejected when Roman inevitably found out he had a crush on him. Picani wasn’t frustrated with him when he admitted he’d chickened out, much to Virgil’s relief. Instead they talked about how the coping tools he’d recommended were working out and then they talked about the fun things he’d experienced that year. “Hold on, you described yourself and Janus as outcasts. But you just said that Roman, the main character of your year, as you described it, thinks you,” he pointed at Virgil with his pen, “are cool. I normally advice against this, but maybe you should pay more attention to the rumor mill in school Virgil, and see if Janus’ view of you two might be different from that of everyone else.”

It was an interesting thought. And Virgil did just that. Over the next week he eavesdropped on conversations where he heard his name drop. And what he heard, boosted his confidence to say the least. People called him brave, and attractive, smart and mysterious. They were hyping each other up to ask him out. Some were questioning why he was wasting his time with someone as ‘sketchy’ as Janus. “Doesn’t he know what that guy is like?” “Wouldn’t surprise me. That snake seems like the type to strangle a kitten with one hand while offering Anker some chocolate with the other.” He didn’t really like that bit. But the rest was pretty good.

Then there was his meeting with Patton Bonnaire. He’d left his third appointment with Dr Picani and decided to catch a ride home with his dad, considering he would be done soon. He was working on his mysterious ‘project’ over the weekend. The university wasn’t far from Picani’s office. Virgil told the receptionist who he was and sat down to mess around a bit on his phone while he waited. “Hello?” Virgil looked up to find a man his father’s age looking at him with a curious smile. He was dressed funny. Light blue cardigan and a grey sweater tied around his neck. Like some sitcom version of a suburban gay dad character. He looked very nice though. Wide bespectacled blue eyes and freckles all over his cheeks. “Um… hi,” Virgil greeted as he got up and offered his hand. “Virgil Anker, I’m waiting for my dad,” he explained. Seeing a random teen at the university on a Saturday afternoon would be rather surprising. “Oh my goodness! You are Logie’s son!” Logie? Virgil felt a smile fight to break free. This was going to be good. “Um… Logan Anker is my dad yeah… he told you about me?” he asked politely. “Oh, you’re the only way anyone can get him to talk about anything other than work. I know all about you, but I still don’t know what kind of cookies to bake for his birthday,” the man pouted. No, that’s not fair! Virgil didn’t know how to deal with disappointed faces like that! Well, considering his dad had told this man all about him already, it was probably fine to tell him this little thing about Logan. “Anything with Crofters Jam and you are his hero,” Virgil divulged, with a mildly devilish smirk, imagining the look on his father’s face when he suddenly received treats with his favorite guilty pleasure. How the man pulled it off, Virgil didn’t know, but he could swear the man’s eyes sparkled. He grabbed his hand in both of his and started jumping up and down excitedly. “Oh kiddo! Thank you so much! My name’s Patton! I teach moral philosophy. I love your cool jacket, and you did your make-up so well!” Then he lifted his sweater sleeve to reveal a heart shaped emblem on the cuff. The heart wore glasses and brandished the pan colors. Patton winked indicating he picked up on Virgil’s color scheme. Virgil smiled. “Thanks, I made it myself,” he informed him. “Wow! Such a talented kid! No wonder your dad is so proud of you!” Patton gasped in awe. Virgil blushed. “I’m alright,” he said dismissively, not very used to that type of praise from an adult. Patton reminded him a little of Roman. “Now, don’t say it like that. The design is good and you’ve sown it so well! Did you teach yourself?” Virgil nodded. “Well that’s amazing. I’m not surprised though. Whit a dad as clever as Logie.” Virgil is so going to tease his dad with that nickname. And maybe set these two up. At least if he isn’t the mysterious ‘project’. Was this dad’s way to hide that he’s trying to date? Patton was clearly interested. Ew… why does he even have to think about this? Scratch that. He knows why, he’s the only wingman his dad has. Technically there is uncle Thomas, his dad’s old college friend, but last time he’d tried to set Logan up, they’d ended up not talking for a month for some reason. As far as Virgil knew he hadn’t dated anyone since he adopted Virgil. The man needed to get out of his office. “For how long have you known my dad?” he asked curiously. “Oh we both started here around the same time. He won’t admit it, but I think I’ve… Crofted my way into his heart.” Virgil, not used to dad jokes, couldn’t help a chuckle. “Oh, you are so precious! Can I keep you?” Patton pleaded, only half joking if Virgil read him right. “Ask my dad out and maybe I’ll end up calling you papton.” That was terrible but Patton seemed to love it anyway. Then the rest of the sentence seemed to register and he blushed. “Um, wait no. I mean…” he sighed and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m that obvious?” “Only a neon sign with ‘date me Dr. Anker’ would be more obvious. And in my dad’s case, you might need that. He’s a bit dense when it comes to matters of the heart. I don’t think he’d notice if you had his all pitter Patton.” This gets him another bout of laughter. “You shouldn’t sell your old man short though kiddo,” Patton manages a few moments later. “He was a tad stiff in the beginning. But recently he’s quite lit, I believe the word is?” Virgil froze when he saw Patton dig through his messenger bag and retrieve copies of familiar cards. “He let you copy his flashcards?” he asked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I walked in one day to borrow a marker and heard him say ‘cobi’? He was tossing something in the trash and the class applauded. So I asked his secret and he showed me his cards. I asked if I could borrow them and…” Patton couldn’t finish his story because Virgil had lost the battle with his composure. He was laughing. Tears streaming down his face and clutching his stomach, barely keeping upright. “He actually said… god, I didn’t expect…” he wheezed.

“Virgil!” At the sound of his dad’s distressed voice he looked up and struggled to signal that it was alright. “Virgil if you can hear me squeeze my hand.” Oh no, dad thinks I’m having an attack. “Fine, fine,” he managed as he squeezed the hand that held his. “Just, can’t… Oh my god, hilarious,” he wheezed. “Virgil, are you having an attack?” He shook his head impatiently and tried the breathing exercise Picani recommended. It worked, surprisingly. Pretty soon he whipped at his eyes though he would have to wash his face in the restroom unless he wanted to look like a horror movie monster. He looked up at the two men in front of him. Patton was absolutely smitten. Seeing his dad in protective parent mode clearly didn’t turn him away. Quite the opposite. “You are using the vocab cards,” he explained. “Of course they were a gift from you, why wouldn’t I use them at any opportunity?” Patton clasped his hands in front of his mouth to stifle a squeal. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you were complaining about not understanding some of the things your students were saying. I didn’t expect you to actually start yeeting your trash.” And then his dad readjusted his glasses, looked him dead in the eye and said: “Yeet is for distance. For trash I need accuracy, therefore the term used is ‘cobi’.” Virgil lost it again. His dad just… Gods he can’t wait to tell Roman… Wait, since when was Roman the first person he thought about to tell stuff like this. They weren’t even really talking right now. But telling Janus felt… when was the last time he and J had a proper conversation? Before summer? Yeah some time before art week. These thoughts brought down his mood enough to get him to stop laughing. Picani might not be entirely wrong to suggest that the friendship was in serious danger of becoming toxic. Though he didn’t use the label, Virgil could read between the lines. “Anyway, great meeting you Patton. It’s good to know dad has someone so nice looking out for him.” Then he turned to his dad. “You should invite him over for dinner some time. He’s a lot of fun.” Patton’s face became beet red, but more importantly his dad was getting flushed as well. “Well, you two talk about that, I’m going to wash my face,” he stated as he marched away, feeling rather good about himself. He always felt better about everything after a visit to doctor Picani. In the morning doubts and worries would return in full force. But right now, he was feeling good. When he returned he saw his dad standing alone, staring off in the distance. “Dad?”

“Dr. Bonnaire asked me on a date,” Logan breathed. “I think you can call him by his first name if that’s the case,” Virgil grinned. “I… I suppose…” His dad was in shock… wow. “You did say yes right?” Virgil clarified. “I… yes, I don’t know what came over me… I’ve never…” “Wait… you’ve never been on a date?” God the man who had the talk with him had never been on a date. “Not like this!” Logan exclaimed with a wild gesture, surprising Virgil. If he raised his voice this has to really be bothering him. “Last time, I was an arrogant college student who felt like he had to answer to no one but himself. Now, I am a single father, going out with a coworker. This is an adult outing. I can’t just…” Virgil smiled sympathetically and patted his father on the shoulder. “You really like this guy huh?” Logan sighed and nodded with a blush. “He’s so patient and friendly and… I just never thought he could ever…” “Now stop it right there. Me turning out like a somewhat stable person, proofs you are awesome. And you just showed him all the reasons why he should date you while taking care of me. You’re welcome by the way. Patton is cool. He’s already met your kid and passed the test. The scariest bit is over.” Suddenly his dad turned towards him and grabbed his shoulders. “You’re really fine with me going out with him? With me possibly entering a romantic relationship?” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the change, but I want you to be happy. And if Patton is your pick… I wouldn’t have suggested he come over for dinner if I didn’t like him.” Virgil rolled his eyes, but the gesture lost some edge when his father hugged him. “I am fortunate to have you as a son.” Virgil shoved him away, blushing awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever Logie,” he huffed getting a flustered stammering as a reward. “Let’s go home,” he suggested with a smirk before heading to the parking lot. The date was planned for the next weekend, after Halloween. And for Virgil it was a Halloween to remember.

He really wanted to go all out, Halloween was his favorite day of the year. But he didn’t want to ruin his costume or get Janus on his case. So, for school, he went with the bare minimum vampire costume, leaving his more elaborate creation for the trick or treaters to enjoy. He was texting his dad, who was still nervous about his date, and waiting for class to start when his day went from okay to awesome. “Greetings peasants!” the booming voice sounded warm and teasing and drew all eyes to the dark prince who’d just entered. Roman stalked trough he class, ‘scaring’ everyone with grand gestures with his arms and even drawing a fake sword threateningly. Making promises of never ending suffering upon the land. Virgil texted his dad that he’d talk to him later and to focus on his classes for now. Eventually Roman pulled back his chair and climbed on it, planting one of his feet firmly on their desk and raising his sword to the sky. “I! Prince Roman of the damned marshes declare war on all that is good and pure!” he bellowed. Virgil leaned back and enjoyed his front row seat. “And you,” he held out a hand to Virgil as if offering to pull him to stand at his side. “my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” he announced dramatically. Virgil felt a rush of adrenaline. Roman had effectively pulled him into his improvisation and Virgil didn’t feel like backing out of this challenge. Even if it involved having all eyes on him. “Is that a fact?” he chuckled amused, but otherwise uninterested. He had to be in character after all. And he didn’t look like a vampire bent on world domination. “Of course!” Roman’s delight at his participation settled warmly in his stomach. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” Virgil did his best ‘whiny teen’ voice for his reply. “But ruling sounds like a lot of work.” To his surprise this got him a round of laughter, the good kind. People found him funny. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” Roman offered, not missing a beat. Now they were talking. But just then class started. Roman sat down next to him and shot him a hesitant smile when their eyes met while they got their books ready. Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman must’ve been wondering what he did wrong to go from ‘almost friends’ to ‘barely get two words that are not about class’. He returned the smile warmly, making sure that he knew that he was back. Janus criticized the whole endeavor of course, but Virgil didn’t really care anymore. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk. And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That shut Janus up. Perhaps he finally realized that he was acting the way he’d always said Roman would if Virgil gave him the time of day.

Virgil sat alone during Spanish, Janus had an exemption for his language elective because he was already proven fluent in both offered languages. Virgil had no clue what Jan did with the free hour, and he didn’t really care. “Hey, Virgil?” Virgil looked up and saw that some guy from Roman’s usual group had paused at his desk. He was dressed like a crazy professor. “Hi?” he greeted, not sure what had brought this on. The other boy grinned and offered his hand. “I’m André. I’m friends with…” suddenly he chuckled to himself and changed his posture and voice to fit his character more. “I mean I am a humble servant to Prince Roman. I have heard you have allied yourself with him for the day?” he inquired. Virgil chuckled. “Depending on how it goes the alliance might last past midnight,” he allowed. Then, as if on cue, the doubt started to creep in. “You have a problem with that?” he asked slightly challenging. “No my liege, never!” André assured him. “We have all been eager to meet you. A friend of the prince, after all, is already family to us.” It was exaggerated, but the sentiment was clear. He wasn’t seen as a threat, in fact he was already considered part of the group even if he never hung out with them. Before Virgil could really say anything the class started. André joined him on their way to the cafeteria and asked about how he did his hair and where he got his hoodie. He was halfway asking for a commissioned jacket when they entered the cafeteria and Virgil was pulled towards a table in the middle by an excited Roman. “At last there you are. It’s time to introduce these cryptids to their new rulers!” Virgil looked up at Roman who gave him a questioning look. He could decline, return to his little bubble of anonymity and pretend this never happened. But… Maybe, hiding away all his life wasn’t how he wanted to live it? So, why not? No hiding today. Or not unless he really had to. “With pleasure Princey,” he grinned, feeling satisfaction in being the cause of Roman’s delight once more. He did that. It was worth whatever Jan threw at him later.

They spent about ten minutes on improv and Roman managed to make Virgil forget about the audience completely. And when he, regretfully, left Roman to sit with Janus he could hear the whispers. But no one was laughing at him. There were so many looks of awe and admiration, it couldn’t not give him a little ego boost. “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” Janus seethed. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged, grinning as he imagined his dad saying it. “No one says that anymore,” Janus reprimanded. “It’s what I was thinking,” Virgil shrugged. Already planning his next act of defiance. He felt kind of bad taking advantage of his dad’s first date nerves and his worry for him, but if this was his teen rebel phase then there were worse things he could be doing while his dad was out of the house. “Are you sure…” “Yes! Just have a nice time. Text when you arrive at the restaurant and when you leave. I don’t have school tomorrow so don’t hurry home,” Virgil assured his dad. “Pat, steal his phone if he checks it even once during dinner,” he then instructed his dad’s date. “I will,” Patton winked. “Good, you crazy kids have fun and don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do,” he grinned teasingly. “Virgil!” his father chastised. “Love you too!” he shouted as he shut the door in his father’s face. Then he rushed upstairs and took out the vampire cape he’d worn for the trick or treaters this year. He then put on a black long sleeved shirt, black jeans and black converses and a cheap black zoro mask. He wasn’t planning on being seen tonight but if he was, he’d rather not be recognizable… and maybe the cape was more for dramatic flair. Roman’s antics had been kind of fun and he wanted to try it out for himself. No one was going to see it anyway. And if he liked it he might make himself a proper costume for future outings. He walked through some sketchy streets until he found what looked like a gang waiting for a victim. They didn’t see him thanks to his cloak and he hid himself in the shadows not too far from them. He took a deep breath and willed them to forget about their surroundings and instead focus on each other. It was easy when people were either not the sharpest mind or not really paying attention. He’d only gotten past his dad that one time because he’d moved in absolute silence. And that trick had taken a lot of energy. His peers in the hallways were easy because most weren’t even watching where they were going let alone trying to see where he was. This was a large group, but they were kind of preoccupied with their conversation and not very smart. So it was easy making them ignore the hand full of lost people that passed them by in a hurry that night. A buzzing in his pocket caught his attention. He checked who it was. Janus. That could wait. He wondered what other ways he could use his cloak for the greater good. Another buzz in his pocket. He checked. His dad. “Paying now, home in ten minutes.” That was his cue to go home. He’d only seen three would be victims, but those were three people who got home safe to their families and might not have otherwise. That was something. He knew that to him, one person coming home or not was everything. So feeling satisfied with his first attempt at true heroism he moved through the streets and hurried home. He just managed to hide his mask and hang away his cloak before he heard the front door. He threw on his headphones and put on some music while he sat himself on his bed. Hoping he’d look like he’d been distracting himself with music. Maybe it would be better if he wore more casual street clothes next time. There was a knock on the door and he pulled off his headphones. “Come in!” he called. His dad poked his head inside and let out a sigh of relief when he found him on the bed, not having a panic attack. “You should be asleep,” he pointed out gently. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you good night. How was it?” The soft look on his father’s face said it all. “I will brief you in the morning. Now you should get adequate rest. Sleep deprivation is detrimental to both your physical health and creativity.” Virgil thought it was kind of funny how his dad had started to use his artistic ambitions as motivation to take care of himself lately. “Okay, night dad,” he muttered in surrender as he got up to get ready for bed. “Night Virgil… I love you.” Virgil smiled. Dad was never one for saying the words. But ever since the start of this year he seemed to be making an effort to change that. It was nice. Virgil had always known, but hearing it meant more than he’d expected it would. “Love you too dad,” he told him, once more feeling a little guilty about sneaking out, and for planning on doing more of these dangerous things. But he was sick and tired of playing it safe all the time. He had the ability to protect others. He should use it for more than just some bullies. Science class was a lot more fun now that he and Roman were talking. It wasn’t very personal. They just exchanged witty banter and complained about school stuff. If he confided in Roman, Janus would hear and he didn’t want to upset him even more. Turns out Janus would absolutely bully others. Or well… Pick fights with classmates over little inconveniences. Luckily Roman wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else seemed to be. He even kept it somewhat civil, just staring him down until Janus backed off. Virgil wasn’t as patient. He didn’t like fighting in public like this, but he was just so done with this BS. Every confrontation made him wonder if this friendship was still good for either of them. But just because he was considering doing it didn’t mean he was ready to hear others outright say it. The rumors were one thing. People theorized on why Virgil was still friends with Janus now that he clearly showed his ‘true colors’ to him. All involved Janus being some sort of villainous mastermind and Virgil the tragic hero trying to save everyone at the cost of his own freedom, safety, or whatever. They were ridiculous, but he could deal. What hit him hard was when Roman voiced his concerns. Janus had been goading a senior into a fight, which was beyond weird. Janus knew that he couldn’t take him on. He always stayed far away from the arbitrary lines high school hierarchy drew between different years. Virgil wasn’t alone in breaking up the fight. Roman was talking the senior down while Virgil got Janus to follow him to their next class. The principle heard about the almost fight though and Janus was called out of class halfway through. Roman approached Virgil when they crossed paths on their way to their next classes. Still no Janus in sight. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. Virgil nodded as he collected his things from his locker, unsure what to say to Roman on this unfamiliar topic. This felt much more vulnerable than their usual chats. “Listen… I’m probably way out of line, but I don’t think I can handle seeing him use you like this any longer…” he started and Virgil, while he knew that Roman was absolutely right and that he probably should take the help he was offering, switched to survival mode. He didn’t want Roman of all people to see what a mess he really was. So he snapped. “You are right. You are way out of line. You don’t have the full picture and you have as much right to tell me what to do with who as Janus. So back off!” he growled before storming off. He regretted every word before he was even around the corner. That night he worked for hours on an apology. The next day he slipped Roman the note. It basically said that he appreciated the worry, but that he had it handled. Along with an apology for being a rude idiot. Roman tucked the note away and gave him a thumbs up to show it was okay. His dad’s date with Patton went well. Not a day went by where Virgil didn’t hear at least one thing about Patton, good or bad. Apparently his father could get a little frustrated with Patton’s humor and his excitement could be overwhelming at times. But even with all that the man made his dad happy with his warm and understanding nature. They’d only had one fight Virgil knew of, and that was resolved quickly. It was good to see his father be excited . It also made Virgil feel bad to realize he’d been so unhappy all this time because of… “Your father’s choices and issues are his to handle Virgil. It’s not fair of you to put the responsibility of his happiness on you.” Virgil looked up and sat back upright in the couch, folding his legs underneath him and studying his nails. He’d gotten a new galaxy polish the day before. He briefly wondered if Roman would notice. He always seemed to see it when Virgil changed something about himself. He forced himself to return his attention to the conversation at hand. Picani probably had a point. Still… “He’s known Patton for years, and I’m pretty sure they’ve both been interested in each other for a long time… if not for me…” “If not for you he might not have taken the job at the university in the first place. It’s like in The Prince of Egypt. When Mozes found himself in the nomad’s camp he felt unworthy of their kindness. But the priest told him that it wasn’t a single man’s place to judge the worth of his life. You’d have to take a step back and oversee all the people you’ve met and the effects you’ve had on their lives and how that ripples throughout the world around them.” “Wow, a movie. Out of cartoon references?” Virgil teased, choosing to table the doctor’s point to think about later. “I like to broaden my repertoire from time to time,” Picani admitted. “So… Have you told your prince yet?” he queries letting go of the subject in favor of another tough discussion. “I… We are barely friends. I don’t want to push him away like that.” He expected Picani to draw a comparison to Kim Possible or something. But the doctor could surprise him sometimes. “Could it be that your father had similar reasons not to pursue a romantic connection until now? Out of fear of upsetting a status quo he felt comfortable with?” Virgil frowned as he considered that. Maybe, maybe he had a point. His dad was one for schedules and predictability. A new addition to their family dynamic would shake that up. So, maybe his dad had needed a shove in the right direction. Should he… No Roman is straight. Nothing good is going to come from this. “You mentioned that he said he hadn’t expected to care so much for you. Sometimes you don’t know what you want or need until it falls into your lap. Your father didn’t know he wanted a son until he had one. And similarly he might not have known he needed a partner until you shoved him and Dr. Bonnaire together.” That…Well he had a point there, maybe. He also made Virgil feel so relaxed at times that he wanted to open up about his gift, even if just a little. Just mention that sometimes weird things happened. But he wasn’t sure if being gifted was one of those ‘if you might put yourself or others in danger’ exceptions to doctor patient confidentiality. Being a hero in the shadow’s had downsides though. He wasn’t authorized to make arrests. He didn’t have any kind of professional protection or equipment, and the police didn’t know who he is and to let him do his thing. Virgil had decided how he wanted to change the city though. He would listen in on conversations, record them without risk of being caught. And if those recordings ended up with the police and that lead to actual arrests... well that was almost as good then wasn’t it? He had plans for more daring escapades later. When he got better at healing and hiding. Baby steps. But that rule couldn’t apply to everything. After almost two years of dancing around Janus’ jealousy and his own wishes to make some other friends, the straw that broke the camel’s back came in a startling realization that brought everything crashing down. “Sociology would be a good choice.” Virgil hummed absentmindedly as he chewed on his sandwich and looked over the offered elective classes. The past two years he hadn’t been sure what to take and joined Janus in whatever he picked. But after a full year of hearing Roman encouraging his art, he’d spent a few Friday afternoons in the studio. He’d been surprised at how accommodating and understanding the other artists were. They saw him work with his headphones on and left him alone. No one looked at his art if he didn’t want them to and they didn’t care if he looked at theirs when they displayed it. They even asked him his opinions on their pieces. And rumors about his ‘talent’ had joined the whispers in the hallway he listened in on every now and then. “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus. “Why?” The question surprised Virgil. “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art,” he explained a little annoyed. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” Janus pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” he allowed before going off in a rant: “though something with sports will be better. College’s eat that stuff up…” Janus kept talking but Virgil didn’t really listen anymore. He just realized something. Jan never stopped talking about decisions he made as if they were for the both of them. Even now he talked as if Virgil would even consider joining the football or debate team with him. Virgil who hated public speaking and would have a panic attack at the thought of football practice alone and all the injuries that could happen. “But… I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him,” Virgil pointed out. He really hoped that Jan had just not realized he was talking as if Virgil would follow him wherever he went. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings.” Virgil thought back to every time Roman had praised him and said he had potential. Wasn’t that how friends were supposed to act? His dad, who had the job of keeping his feet on the ground was more supportive of his interest in art than Janus was being. “It makes me happy,” he muttered feeling hurt and rejected in a weird way. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And the tone made it clear that Janus wasn’t going to talk about the subject any more. That was fine with Virgil. He too, had made a decision. The next appointment he sat himself on the edge of the couch and looked at Picani with an intense determination. “I’m ready.”

A hard won victory.

Masterpost

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #hero au #Long chapter #sorry #tw #food mention #mention of panix attacks #janus makes bad choices

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