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aequoranimae · 5 months ago

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20-21 june

I awoke early again, rising as silently as I could while my roommates still slept on. The American staying here, Faith, is not so cautious—she tends to move about more recklessly, letting her locker door slam shut as she flings Midwest-blonde hair over her shoulder. My exit style is more of a creep; I slipped down the hall into a mild, overcast day and made my way back down the street to the same bakery I visited the day before. I bought my pain au chocolat and skirted the edge of the inner city, crossing the canal, until I had passed through an office district and arrived in the botanic gardens. There was a pair of grey geese paddling about in the leafy pond, and a few common turtles floating with their faces poking above the water.

Brussels has a thriving economy of pretentious coffee shops, and after purchasing my ice latte (presented creatively in a can rather than a cup), I walked on through Brussels Park, whose broad avenues were lined with all kinds of neoclassical statues. I saw two small brown rats scurrying about in the children’s playground and a few more waterbirds staking their claim to the parkland while most of the neighbourhood was still at rest. Over the line of the trees I saw the blue and gold-gilded dome of the Palais de Justice and the walls of the Royal Palace—I had come back around to the same old and grand part of Brussels had visited the day before. So it was a familiar journey as I made once more for the Grand Place marked on the horizon by the city hall spire.

I was there on time to enter the Musée de la Ville de Bruxelles as it opened at ten o’clock. The collection includes the building that houses it, opposite the Hotel de Ville in the Grand Place. This black gothic creature stands out from the white and gold things that line the rest of the square—the Maison du Roi in its current form is little more than a century old, but the house that stood there before belonged to Charles V of Spain, and so it has its French name. But the Dutch language knows it as Broodhuis, because there was once a bread market in the square.

The museum is one of the most interesting collections I have been to because it is as much about the city of Brussels in the late 19th century as it is about the Brussels of antiquity. The first floor contains statues and altarpieces and pieces of façade from across the city which were replaced with replicas as city administrators of the 19th century sought to restore and preserve the old Brussels that had long been crumbling. Even the weather vane from the top of the town hall’s spire that shows the patron Saint Michael was eventually taken down and replaced with a copy, while his original form rests in the city museum. Climbing past the stained glass windows that showed the crests of noble families, I went through rooms of paintings that showed the city landscape and its people over the centuries—the same statues I had seen in the park an hour ago peered back at me from canvas, and I saw the square outside as it had been before, when tourists taking photos were traders selling dogs and racing pigeons.

There was also a large collection of Belgian china and a dark room hung with tapestries not unlike the ones I had seen across the road—these are rotated regularly to keep them safe from the light. The only permanent fixture was the huge cartoon on the wall, which is one of the few surviving examples of those works used as guides for the production of the tapestries themselves. It showed the martyrdom of Saint Paul in the style of Ruebens, pale and stuck with the pinholes that showed it must have been copied in thread at least once.

I had a midday train ticket, so I hurried up the street to Bruxelles Centrale, stopping along the way to buy a small book on the history of ancient Rome in case I was bored and needed to preserve my phone battery. My train was to Bruges and took about an hour, so I ate my supermarket sandwich and snacks on the way, watching the endless fields of horses and cows blur into green as we journeyed west. Bruges is unassuming from the view offered of it from the station square, but the moment one crosses the highway and enters the winding alleys it is clear why it has captured so much attention. Unlike Brussels its streets have not been invaded by the horrors of cheap post-war architecture, though they are no less a victim to the souvenir shops and chains of Belgian chocolate stores, so numerous on the main shopping street they became indecipherable from one another.

On my way into the heart of town I passed over my first canals with the flower box bridges—overlooking the water I saw a mother and father swan watching over their fluffy grey cygnets curled up on the bank for a nap. This peaceful scene was quickly eclipsed by the tourist throng as I turned onto one of the main streets and passed the largest church, taking a peek inside but deciding it was still too early in the day to pay to see ten more paintings of the crucifixion (I was feeling stronger by mid-afternoon). Instead I weaved on through the crowd to the main square, which was absolutely heaving with all kinds of family groups taking their photos and eating their waffles.

The highlight of the square is, of course, the bell tower, rising above the entire town skyline. Every fifteen minutes it would ring some melodic tune, like a wind chime. But I was more intrigued by its alleged 362 steps, and was surprised again to find that almost nobody from the crowd of hundreds was curious about the inside of the building they stood milling around—I bought a Bruges museum pass for the day and began the climb. The first spiral of the belfry’s steps is deceiving, broad and flat and made from modern, level stone. Once I had passed the first chamber (the room where the city administration stored their precious documents in ancient times to protect them from fire), the stairs narrowed to that classic worn-down configuration and it became necessary to clutch at the thick winding rope around the centre for balance.

I sped up as fast as I could even though I was sweating quite a bit, only pausing when someone was coming the other way and the width of the passage became problematic. There was a certain satisfaction to leaving behind all those shallow travellers and their commercial interests down below; also, I was raised in such a way that there is no question of if when it comes to towers, belfries and domes. One must at least pay their respects to whatever poor person had the job of climbing every day to ring the giant bells manually in times past. I emerged victorious at the top of the final staircase, which was more of a ladder than anything else, and saw the beautiful panoramic view of Bruges, well worth the climb. The town from above was a uniform sprawl of two-storey houses broken up only by the occasional church spire and patches of green, larger from above than the quaint streets implied below. While I was up there the bells chimed and everybody got a fright. The stairs seemed impossibly steeper on the way down. I was somewhat more cautious on the descent.

Having proved myself, I decided it was time to join in with everyone else, so I went to a highly recommended waffle shop and bought the plain Liège waffle, since I still have my principles. Most are drawn in by the array of sweet sauce and candy toppings offered (though to be fair, this shop was a little more restrained than the tacky places populating Brussels), but I understand the only correct way to eat the Liège waffle (which is different to the Brussels waffle), is in its classic form. It came hot from the press, oval-shaped with the layer of caramelised sugar that makes the Liège waffle—proud of this too, I took it back to the main square to show off. It was genuinely very good, better than the stuff in Brussels would be, I think, and after speed-running that belfry climb it was a needed restorative. I had a museum pass that I had to use on at least one more attraction to get my money’s worth.

Bruges hosts the works of great Flemish masters in the Groeningemuseum, tucked away down a path that winds through a small garden off the main canal. I came in just in time to eavesdrop a little on one of the gallery tour guides and his collection of elderly listeners—I was just about the only person younger than sixty-five in the whole building. The most significant work in the museum’s care is Jheronimus Bosch’s Last Judgement, which is absolutely wonderful, and may even beat the Brueghel I saw the day before. The three-panel picture depicts a very strange reckoning for the human race, in which the land is covered with the strangest little creatures, not so much monstrous as they are disconcerting. A devil tortures a man over a giant butterknife, another sits on the back of a kind of rabbit thing carrying his cage of humans enslaved, another—a harpy—perches with a person half sticking of her obscenely large maw as she chews them up. But the picture is so unusual and charming that it fails to disgust the modern eye. You have more of a feeling like you’d want to put one of these little things in your pocket and carry it about like a pet than a desire to run and repent. The museum seems to understand this; they sell very nice metal charms and pins of the most memorable creatures.

My phone was threatening to accept death by this point, so I put it away and went for a walk towards the Begijnhof, the old religious women’s refuge which still acts as a community today. Before its gated entrance was a canal bank with a whole colony of waterbirds – a great throng of swans and ducks, so numerous the ground was littered white with downy feathers. Most of them were sleeping with their necks all twisted up and their beaks tucked away, protected from human advances by a handy fence. I continued through these green spaces along the banks of the canals, skirting the outside of town until I dropped back onto the main street (the quiet, local end) and bought some frites from the very kind people behind the counter. This, obviously, was the other necessity staying in Belgium, now I had crossed waffles off the list. They were so good, though I do think the Belgians go a little overboard with their mayonnaise portions. I like mayonnaise but not that much.

I could have stayed even longer, but my phone was on its last legs, and I was beginning to feel the day’s toll. Luckily I’d picked up a map at the info centre earlier and had been using that for navigation for the past hour or two since the phone map became untenable, and Belgium is very good with its street signs. When I was walking back over that same small bridge I saw the swan family from earlier, taking to the waters now. I watched them go—two sleek and white, two downy and grey—until they disappeared under the bridge and were gone from view. Bone tired, I slumped on the soonest train back to Brussels in a corner by myself. My phone, at least, made it back alive, and I went to bed after some takeaway dinner with great anticipation.

I was up bright and early for yet another train, this time northbound from Bruxelles-Centrale for Antwerp, where I would be meeting two of my close friends Connie and Maddy for the day. They have been staying in Amsterdam and seem to hate it with a passion, so the day trip was in their interest even though they had a much longer train journey than me. As I came up the stairs of Antwerpen Centraal I saw them waiting for me at the top, framed by the station’s ornate walls and domes from the turn of the 19th century—the spiralling stone and brass and wrought iron over glass that barely survived the war. We hugged and headed outside to a city still waking; my friends, who aren’t so used to Europe’s quirks, said they thought all the locals looked shellshocked as though we were in Soviet Russia. Having only been to Paris and Amsterdam so far, they are yet to appreciate the no man’s land of industrial European city streets before ten o’clock in the morning.

Since nothing was open yet, we stopped for coffee outside Antwerp’s cathedral, sheltered from the dreary day. The inside of the cathedral housed a few grand paintings by Ruebens and some beautiful chapels—we wandered around inside for a while and I enjoyed the commentary of Connie, who as an art history student always has something to say. The cathedral had that overwhelming Catholic air with its countless variations of Mother and Child; the right chapel had frames depicting Jesus carrying the cross while the left chapel, dedicated to Mary, showed the stages of her life from the Annunciation to the Resurrection. Connie and I agreed it was interesting to see a depiction where Mary was shown to age with time and grief rather than remain eternally young and beautiful. The cathedral of Antwerp is an ancient one, built between the 14th and 16th centuries upon earlier foundations. Fire, Protestants and French revolutionaries all took their turn at trying to destroy its walls over the many years, but none succeeded.

My friend Connie has an intense love of couture fashion, and apparently the clothes of Belgian designer Ann Demeulemeester can only be seen in store in Antwerp. Connie was desperate to try on a dream pair of laced boots, so after a little more than an hour of deliberation between sizes, we left with the heels of her new shoes clicking on the rain-soaked pavement. Maddy and I were a bit beside ourselves with hunger at this point—we ate in a Vietnamese restaurant around the corner while it continued to pour outside. Fortunately the Royal Arts Museum of Antwerp was almost only just across the road, so I dashed to cover while Connie and Maddy performed more of a creep under the shelter of Connie’s umbrella. The water pooled in the recesses of the worn tiled pavement and for once my tired canvas sneakers were not the least suitable choice of footwear between us.

The building of the Royal Arts museum is an old one with a huge painted entrance hall, and it feels like entering another world when you ascend to the first floor and find the modern masters artfully curated in stark white rooms. Climbing the stairs between galleries we ascended into darkness, into deep navy rooms of statuettes and quiet shadowy paintings, only to be thrown back into to piercing brightness. The arrangement of the gallery felt only more poignant as we at last reached the level containing the old masters, encircling a hall where more Ruebens were on display. In one corner of the room one of these Ruebens was frameless, turned up on its side while the museum’s conservation workers toiled peaceably at restoring the work in front of the public, removing its centuries-old varnish. In the other rooms were many of the same sort of paintings I’d become familiar with—Biblical allegories, portraits of families in black with their frilled collars, landscapes with fine houses and grazing livestock. I was most fond of Misbehaving, a Henriette Ronner-Knip, and the famous Madonna by Jean Fouquet. After laying out on the plush benches of the gallery for a while, we stepped back into the streets of the city; it was no longer raining.

We went for Belgian waffles, I had mine with chocolate and strawberries (which is allowed in this case, because it was the Brussels waffle rather than the Liège one) and went to see the main square, enclosed as usual with the familiar old municipal buildings. At the end of the street down by the water we sat for a while in the information centre, housed in what remains of a medieval castle. Their Eurostar back to Amsterdam was in the evening, so we had just enough time to eat some pasta at a nice Italian restaurant just off the main square before beginning the walk back to the station. The first train to Brussels was on the platform opposite theirs, so we parted ways but kept in sight until my train arrived to block them from view. I will see them again in Florence, but for now our destinations are very different. In Brussels I packed my bag ahead of my departure and curled up in bed with some dessert—ahead of me was my two-day journey to Prague across the German countryside.

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sillylittlestoryblog · 3 years ago

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Riff x artist!reader

Notes: hey yo Friends, i m back. Took me Long enough. Here you have a ff that nobody asked for. Lol. This is just the First Part of a series. Hopefully i can finish it this time. Also pls don’t be angry Riff isnt really in this Part but he for sure will be in the second Part of this Story, so this is more like a prologue. Kinda. I take requests. And you cure my depression ( at least a tiny bit ) if you text me something nice. Hope you like it. Love, Mai 🍄

Warnings: none, capitalism?!, not perfect english

Summary: Reader likes to draw buildings and her ever changing neighbourhood. After she meets a certain Gang leader, she now really wants to draw the mysterious guy with the beautiful eyes.

The warm afternoon sun was shining on my skin as I walked through the streets of New York's West Side. A thick sheet of paper in one hand, my watercolor box in the other. I ran excitedly to the next street corner, trying to avoid the shadows of the buildings. It was the beginning of spring, so it was only really pleasant in the sun. In the shade, however, I felt like I was freezing to death in my thin dress. I had begged my overprotective brother not to have to wear the thick winter clothes. He had first been of the opinion that I would catch cold in this weather, but then had agreed after he saw the first rays of sunlight shining through the large window onto the fire escape. After that my face was radiateing like the sun, „it is almost a competition“he said, whereupon he could only say yes to me wearing my favorite dress.

It was Sunday and I had gotten up early to set up my drawing supplies in front of a nearby church in the neighborhood and then to be able to paint when everyone would go to mass. I had only started a few weeks ago with the painting of people. I had seen a young man in the subway. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. I had wished very much that I could have drawn him right at that moment. But as soon as he got off the train and jogged down the stairs of the station, I had forgotten his face.

With a building this would never have happened to me. Ever since I was little, I had memorized the windows, towers and facades of the buildings around me. They were burned into my brain. So it was easier for me to later bring the straight lines and dark colors perfectly on paper. Since I had seen the young man, there was a new need in me. I wanted to paint something that was not rigid and straight like the skyscrapers of the West side.

That's exactly why I had tried to draw the people going to church that morning. But somehow I didn't quite succeed. I was dissatisfied with my painting. Nothing looked the way I wanted it to. The happy faces of the young girls in their pretty Sunday dresses looked lifeless and gray. The old people leaning on each other to climb the stairs of the church together did not look lovingly and kind but rather as if they were arguing in front of the house of God.

My newest plan was to draw the small Irish pub on the next street corner. My brother went there often with his friends. He had told that even in the afternoon the small tables already were filled with empty beer bottles and some drunkard even spend sunday not leaving his seat.

I set my things down next to me while I studied the building opposite me carefully. I had no problem drawing the masonry in a few strokes. As I was about to start detailing the dark green front door with the blurry windows, I was disturbed by an unwelcome shouting. A group of young men had gotten into a fight with the owner of the pub. Something in me felt the need to draw the event in front of me. But before I could think about whether it would be morally compatible to draw a possibly escalating fight, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Y/N? What are you doing here. Come on, we shouldn't be around when the jets are doing something illegal," the voice said, matching the hand on my shoulder. It was Tommy, my brother John's best friend. If Tommy was here, my brother couldn't be far either. I didn't like it when the two of them came together. I always have the feeling that my brother wants to bring me and Tommy together. I'm surprised because John still doesn't accept that I've been a grown woman for a while now. He always sees me only as his little sister who definitely should not waste any thoughts on boys and relationships. But with Tommy he was different. Tommy was the only son of a rich merchant from Manhattan. He and John knew each other from college. John probably wanted me to marry him so that I would have a secure life. Definitely not the plan I had for myself. It's not that I didn't like Tommy, he was usually friendly and always had a compliment for me. But he was a coward. The only conversations I had with him were about the fear that someone might steal his expensive new watch or about how his favorite topic in the world was finance.

Not really what I was interested in. He probably thought he could impress me with his father's money. But what I would have been really happy about would have been a few words about my paintings or if he admired New York at sunrise as much as I did. But he had not answered either one and had returned his attention to the fortune on his wrist.

He also wore the watch today, it was cold on my shoulder. I was still thinking about what to answer when John also entered my field of vision.

"If it isn`t my baby sister. How many times have I told you not to go down this street. It's not for young ladies like you. And look at you. Your hands are full of charcoal and paint. What will people think? Come on, let's go, see you tomorrow Tommy" instantly he had pulled me up from my seat and ran with me in the opposite direction of the pub. I quickly grabbed my art supplies. "Walk faster Y/N , dad will be upset if he sees you like this so you better hurry so we get home on time.

I know my brother was only strict with me because he was afraid something could happen to me. Our father had taught him to be strict. After our mother passed away, there wasn't much warmth in our family. And John was always under observation. Father was almost never at home because of his job and sometimes I didn't see him for several days. John, on the other hand, was always there for me. When we were alone he was very caring and loving to me, but as soon as other people were around he showed his strength and severity. Too big was the fear that someone could confess to my father how soft and loving he had been.

When I arrived at our apartment, I immediately ran to the bathroom and began to wash the stains off my hands. The paint came off easily, but the charcoal stains on the back of my hands just wouldn't come off. Only now I noticed that there was also a small spot of blue paint on my light dress. I mentally cursed myself. Why hadn't I been more careful? For me, but also for John. I couldn't imagine what his punishment would be if father found out that I had been hanging around painting all day instead of sitting at the sewing machine or standing behind the stove. He had very old-fashioned views about the place of a woman. But still I could not be angry with him, he was my father after all and only thanks to him I could have the money to paint and the beautiful clothes I loved to wear.

But although me and John waited all evening long for our father to return, he did not come back to the apartment that night. And even though I had struggled all evening, I decided to paint again the next morning while lying between my silk sheets and slowly falling asleep.

#mike faist x reader #mike faist #riff x reader #riff fanfic #west side story fanfic #west side story #Mike faist fanfiction #faist #x Reader #fanfiction

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saturnsummer · 3 years ago

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the fairytale she never had (will you believe again?)

when sol is invited to a wedding, sol doesn’t think her best friend would follow her.

aka: solhwi attending a wedding

notes: it just struck me one day, and i really wanted them to see each other outside of the law school moments! while law school defines them, they are certainly people with social activities.

i adapted this from a similar prompt i saw from a fic many years ago for a separate fandom, and i always wanted to write something similar. this was honestly not met to be multi-part, but i write too much anyways. so multi-part it will be.

also, it might sound depressing in the initial part where sol is talking about the wedding invitation, but it gets explained later on.

as always, enjoy! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me!

ao3 link

words: 4135 words

I: 我愿变成童话里, 你爱的那个天使 (i am willing to be the angel of that fairytale you love)

--title inspired by fairytale (童话) by Michael Wong!--

Sol absolutely hates weddings.

She hated the big social crowds, the way drunk men in tuxedos staggered around with women in one arm and a drink in another. She found no purpose in dressing in lavish gowns, then eating dinner for the next two hours without even feeling full.

Sol couldn’t blame anyone but herself for this. She can’t help but remember her mother’s failed marriages. The way her biological father left them in the middle of the night, with all their hard earned savings. The way her stepfather, Byeol’s father, would come home drunk and violent towards her mother. It was a memory she couldn’t erase. More than a decade later, she still wakes up in a cold sweat, worrying for her mother and small Byeol’s life.

She long ago gave up on the concept of love back then. She wasn’t opposed to anyone dating or talking about it, and she certainly didn’t mind short flings. But marriage? Eternal love? The fairytale that everyone hopes to achieve? Sol threw those ideas out of the window.

So when Sol received a thick, cream-coloured card and envelope, embossed with rose gold foil and flowers, a pretty silver wax seal and her name written in careful strokes of a calligraphy brush, she was stumped.

Her friend, Im Jiyoon, was getting married. Jiyoon was a good friend of Sol’s, and they occasionally met up for quick meals. Jiyoon was an accountant and climbing the ranks in her company. They lost contact for a period when Sol was in juvie, but they reconnected when Sol was just starting law school. It was only polite that Jiyoon extended invitations to her high school classmate.

Sol had mixed feelings. The wedding was on a Friday night, which made things good since she didn’t have to wake up early, fitting her schedule properly. But she had nothing to wear. She could borrow a dress and shoes from Yeseul, but the last time she borrowed a shoe from Yeseul, she almost broke her ankle. And she had so much work to catch up on. Yet, not showing up felt rude of her.

Jiyoon was nice, don’t get her wrong. She was smart, resourceful and lovely to be with in high school. Sol wanted nothing more than for her high school friend to marry the love of her life. But she hasn't been to such social events in years, and being so focussed on school, the legal clinic and contributing to her family, she found it difficult to understand why she needed to go, besides doing it out of courtesy.

“What’s that?” A familiar voice pipes from behind, drawing her out of her thoughts. There’s the familiar shuffling of several pairs of feet as Sol turns her attention to the one who spoke. Behind her, was Han Joon Hwi with his bag just being set on the table. The rest of the group was just settling in for another study session.

“Ah, nothing important.” She monotonously says before sliding the card in her files. Joon Hwi’s hands catch the card before she can slide it fully and stop her from hiding it from him, or the rest of the group. The rest draw their attention to the expensive card and Sol only stays silent.

“A wedding? Your friend’s?” Yeseul asks as she picks the card up with perfectly manicured fingers. Turning and feeling the thick paper between her fingers, Yeseul knew it was no cheap manufactured paper. This was expensive, premium, and each card looked handmade from the brush calligraphy.

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going.” Sol says as Yeseul returns her the card and successfully stores it away in her bag.

“Why not? Don’t you want to be there?” Joon Hwi asks, cocking his head to the side in utter confusion.

“There isn’t much point, is there? I have school and the legal clinic and things to revise for. And besides, I don't have anything to attend in. I just rather send her a gift and treat her a meal.” Sol simply explains. Everyone bombards her with more questions, but she diverts their attention to her paper and the cases they are reviewing today.

Joon Hwi, however, couldn’t get Sol’s reasoning out of his head. He knew Sol well enough to know how much she values her friends, and that she would be willing to drop everything for a friend. Her loyalty was unmatched. It didn’t make sense that she would be held back by her vanity or school work that caused her to not attend such a joyous occasion.

When everyone is done reviewing the cases and the session ends, Sol is the only one who has her books and papers still scattered all over the table. She still has to review her notes and catch up on a few lectures before she can officially end her day. Joon Hwi was long done, but he stayed put, bringing out a past report he’s done and glancing through it, hopeful to catch any mistakes. The others have headed back or gone to the cafeteria for a meal.

“Han Joon Hwi, you don’t have to stay for me, you know?” Sol says, her eyes not once looking up as she stays concentrated highlighting her book with a fluorescent orange highlight. She sticks it in her hair when she’s done, raising her head to meet Joon Hwi’s eyes. Joon Hwi only smiles, letting his eyes crinkle.

“Why don’t you want to attend the wedding?” Joon Hwi asks, still smiling. Sol scoffs.

“I already said. I’m too busy-” Sol is cut off by Joon Hwi with his teasing.

“You sure? I think it’s about the groom, though.” Joon Hwi smiles brightly, earning an irritated series of clicks of her tongue from Sol, clearly successful in being teased.

“None of that sort! Who do you think I am, Han Joon Hwi?” Sol rebuts back, throwing her eraser across to him in annoyance.

Joon Hwi catches it with a laugh, but doesn’t lose eye contact with Sol. A few moments of silence follow, as she looks at the file with the card. Slowly, she draws the card from her file, holding it carefully between her fingers.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be there. I… it’s my first time going to such a social event in such a long time. And the last time I met Jiyoon was a year ago, back in our 1L.” She says softly, letting her fingers brush her calligraphed name.

“I just… rather not go, you know? Treat her to a nice meal somewhere, maybe a couple drinks. Besides, I’m sure she’s just doing it out of courtesy.” She lets out a light laugh.

Joon Hwi’s heart softens. He’s witnessed Sol in her different elements. The courtroom, where she’s a powerful woman in command, dressed professionally in a suit and hair in a perfect ponytail. The day-to-day her, where she’s comfortably dressed in jeans and her tanned coat, hair in a bun and post it notes on her jacket. She was always so bold, so confident and so full of fire. It never occurred to him that she would be uncomfortable in social events. She was always the life during dinners, with Bokgi. She laughed loudly, engaged in conversations and seemed so comfortable. He remembers how she would help out the old halmeonis with her neighbourhood on some days when he sent her home, or the times she bought ice creams for Byeol’s classmates. She seemed so extroverted, yet so closed off. Eying her, Joon Hwi reaches out and clasps his hand over hers in an attempt to comfort.

“I never went to school events, you know? Especially since juvie made me miss it. When I redid my high school year, I didn’t go too. There wasn’t much of a point, since I didn’t have a date or many friends to begin with. If it was Dan, she would have gone, being the popular girl she was back then.” Sol softly says, a small smile ghosting her face.

She remembers the day prom arrived for her school. She was expectant, hoping that the boy she liked would invite her. Or maybe the girls that she occasionally had lunch with will invite her to hang out. But all she got was a stone cold silence the weeks leading up to prom. When everyone buzzed on what they were wearing to prom night, she silently put on her headphones, drilling herself into her science assignments. Of course, she wouldn’t be invited.

She knew the rumours floating in school. How Dan was the perfect one, how she was the failed one. She knew everyone knew she went to juvie. She knows how the boys snicker at her when she walks past them, or how the girls gossip and whisper when she’s eating her lunch. Besides, it didn't help that she was poor. She can’t even afford a dress of her own, let alone go to the event.

Realising what she’s said, Sol quickly draws her hand away along with the card and slots it away in her file.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to blabber on. You must think it’s stupid, I think so too. Anyways, do you have the notes Professor Kim...” Sol quickly apologises and diverts her attention to her notes. But Joon Hwi was no longer listening. He was shattered by how the woman sitting in front of him has never been treated like how she should be treated. It was no secret to Joon Hwi that he cared for his friends, but cared a little more for Sol. He was the one that left post-it notes on her table and pretended he didn't. She was the only one that he would let steal a mouth or two from his ramyeon. He could read her moods just from her eyes. He wonders sometimes, if he sees her more than a friend.

He won’t hide that she’s beautiful. The way her eyes slant in an elegant fashion, her smooth, slightly tanned skin, and her winning smile that he always found his heart beating faster for. He loves the way she smiles at her extra pickles, the way her eyes light up when she sees Byeol, or the way she argues and practices. The tenacity and desire she has to improve inspires him to work as hard as her.

This is why when Sol spilled the beans, he couldn't help but feel all sorts of emotions. Anger, towards the people in her school, for not realising such a wonderful student. Anger towards her for degrading herself. Sadness, for her not being able to experience such events.

As Joon Hwi ended the session with her and returned to his room, he made a promise to Sol. He’s convinced it will work, and he begins planning in his head.

He will show her the fairytale.

-----

A week passed.

Sol had to give a reply in a few days and she has not figured out what to say. The wedding was in a month. She knew Jiyoon would be busy... Sol figures that she should just treat Jiyoon after her honeymoon, knowing how she would be away with her husband as newlyweds later on.

“Still thinking about the wedding?” Joon Hwi nods at her, her head in her hands. Sol, looking defeated, nods. So much for trying to hide. They were at their pantry area of their dorms, Sol stirring her ramyeon, as Joon Hwi slurps his. It was 3am, and they just finished studying. The next day was a weekend, so it didn’t really matter if they slept late, since they got the privilege of sleeping in.

“What do I tell Jiyoon? I don’t want to sound rude.” Sol mumbles, lazily stirring her soggy noodles.

“Go to the wedding.” Joon Hwi says suddenly, continuously slurping.

“What?!”

“Sol, how many weddings can you even go to in your life? Are you sure you want to miss this one? Besides, you said you haven’t been to social events. Don’t you want to experience it?” Joon Hwi says, adrenaline building in his voice.

Sol falls silent. She can’t deny that she wants to experience the feeling of being dolled up, the fun that everyone talks about, and the enjoyment that everyone goes through. And Joon Hwi is right; she wants to celebrate with Jiyoon. But her fear of social events and the past was holding her back.

Joon Hwi could tell the change in her eyes. He gives a sweet smile, knowing that he said enough to change her mind.

“Joon Hwi, but what if she doesn’t even-” Sol begins doubting herself as she shoots off her doubts and worries. Joon Hwi calms her down with logical reasons, calming her nerves in between his mouths of ramyeon.

“But... I’ll be alone there, right?” Sol asks, her voice so soft, Joon Hwi barely picks it up. Her ramyeon is still untouched, and the noodles have gotten soggy and cold. Sol is silent for a moment, as she realises how right she is, for once. It wasn’t like she could ask a date, she doesn’t even have one. And her friends from the study group were out of the question. They don’t even know Jiyoon. Joon Hwi quickly brings up his bowl to his face, hopefully covering it as he feels the heat rising to his face.

“I’ll be your plus-one.”

Sol’s eyes light up and her head rises. Did she hear that right? Han Joon Hwi, her plus-one?

“Oh, no! No, I didn’t mean it like that! Joon Hwi, no, I can’t-” Sol can’t find the right words to say. He can't? He shouldn’t? He doesn't need to? Sol can’t deduce her own reasonings for this argument. She knows her roommate likes him, and she definitely doesn’t want to be the target of her roommate’s stares if she catches wind of this. Besides, Joon Hwi doesn’t like her. She knows, and she doesn’t want him to get any wrong ideas. He’s her best friend, and confidante. She knows, deep down, his heart is someone else's.

“I want to.”

Sol freezes as Joon Hwi finishes drinking his soup. Placing the bowl down, he does as best as he can to lock eyes with Sol seriously, showing her he wasn’t teasing. No, this was out of his sincere heart. He knows how nervous she gets in a new environment, and him being next to her was bound to calm her nerves just a little more.

Sol could see the genuine care and want in his eyes. She knows this isn’t one of his jokes or teases. For a split second, she catches herself thinking if he meant something more. That going as a date, was more than just keeping her company, but for something to develop…

Her face is flushed red as she looks at her puffed noodles and lukewarm soup. She picks her chopsticks up but is stopped by Joon Hwi’s hand as he shifts the bowl toward him, away from her.

“Get yourself a fresh one. This is the first meal all day, isn’t it?” Joon Hwi calls her out, covering her noodles. Sol wants to argue for her soggy noodles, but she falls silent knowing how he revealed her secret. She hasn’t eaten all day after running reports and studying. Grumbling, she does as instructed and boils another bowl of ramyeon. When she’s back at the table with a fresh, hot, spicy and red bowl, she dives into it, wondering how she managed to survive the whole day.

Joon Hwi only gives a small smile looking at the girl slurping her noodles with delight and looking at her. Joon Hwi wasn’t lying. He did want to be her plus-one for the wedding. He knew that more than just being a comfort for Sol, he wanted to make this one day a day she could look back and smile at. That she could be pretty, relaxed and happy instead of stressing over her grades, exams and family.

“Fine.” Sol says as she continues slurping the spicy noodles. She blesses the spiciness of the noodles, such that she could blame her pink blush on it. Joon Hwi, clearing the cold noodles and getting water for both of them tilts his head in confusion.

“Come with me to the wedding, if you want to.” She mutters softly, almost shy to let him know. To hide her blush and hide her confusion, she lifts the still hot bowl to her face. She drinks the soup, but chokes on the spiciness. Joon Hwi lets out a light chuckle before passing her a bottle of cold water. Sol looks at him with narrowed eyes of annoyance, but graciously takes the water.

As he watches Sol eat her first bowl, then a second, as Joon Hwi munches on some crackers, he only smiles and laughs at whatever Sol was complaining about her reports and her frustrations at her cases that she picked. He lets out comforting words, but is rebutted back with Sol saying he will never get it because he’s smart unlike her.

As he went to bed that night, he only gave a giddy smile, burying his face in his sheets. He scored his point of taking Sol out on a date, and was already counting down. He officially succeeded in the first step of his plan.

The rest of it required a little bit of help. But he knew who to ask.

-----

“Yeseul! What is it that you need to wake me up on a weekend? I was up until 4am last night!” Sol grumbles as she places her phone on speaker, rubbing her eyes. It was 8am, way too early for Sol to process any emergencies. Well, if it was Yeseul, she would do it any time.

“Sorry, unnie. But it’s urgent. Could you meet me in 10 minutes at the lobby?” Yeseul’s bright voice echos. Sol notices her roomie’s bed made, pillows nicely fluffed and sheets tucked in neatly in pure perfection. She isn’t surprised, considering how she gets up early anyways.

“Fine.” Sol says and hangs up, getting a fresh change of clothes and heading to the bathroom to wash up. She throws on a hoodie, grabbing her only tanned ochre coat and grabs her bag, before jogging downstairs to the lobby. There, Yeseul is standing there, with a sling black bag and with one of the many nude heels she has, hair styled to perfection.

“Unnie!” Yeseul waves her hand over. Walking closer, Sol notices two other familiar friends behind as she scoffs.

“Joonhwi? Bokgi? What are you doing here?” She asks, her hand playing with the strap of her bag unconsciously. She was surprised to see Joonhwi, but even more Bokgi, who usually spends mornings sleeping in. Joonhwi only gives his usual cheeky smile and drags a drowsy Bokgi with him out towards to the main entrance of the school. Dumbfounded, Yeseul takes this moment to link her arm with Sol’s as she leads her out and catch Sol up to their agenda today.

“What?! You’re bringing me where?” Sol exclaims, her voice echoing throughout the lobby. Yeseul shushes her as she drags a shocked Sol out of school. Yeseul didn't need the whole school to know where Sol was going.

“Unnie, please? You need a dress for the wedding, and don’t think you are going to go in one of mine or your old ones! Besides, you promised to go shopping with me one day, right?” Yeseul defends herself as Sol sighs.

Yeseul wasn’t wrong. The wedding was just a week away and she had absolutely nothing to wear. She owned a couple pairs of flats, but they were so old, it would be embarrassing to attend with those. And her dresses were either too big or too small. She was so caught up with school after submitting her reply to Jiyoon, that she would have forgotten about the wedding if it wasn’t for the post-it on her bedside wall.

“But...but...” Sol couldn’t find any reasons to counter. She knew Yeseul was right. Besides, it’s a weekend. And they had no upcoming tests or projects, so there was no harm in doing something besides studying in the copy room. She nods, defeated, earning a smile from Yeseul.

“Wait, then why is Joonhwi and- Who’s car is that?!” Sol’s thoughts are cut off when she sees a familiar black sedan waiting by the entrance as Sol and Yeseul just exit. In the car, she manages to see a Joonhwi in the driver’s seat and Bokgi riding shotgun.

“Yah! Han Joon Hwi! Isn’t this my roomie’s car?” She shouts as she strides a couple of steps when Joonhwi rolls the window down.

“She loaned me the car for today. Don’t want you carrying so many things back from shopping today.” He replies curtly. Bokgi opens his passenger side door on the right.

“Bokgi-”

“Noona, sit in front. I’m too tired to watch Joonhwi-hyung drive.” Bokgi mutters before he climbs into the backseat with Yeseul. Sol wordlessly settles into the seat next to Joonhwi, who only looks at her with a smile. Sol catches his odd looks and pauses.

“What?”

“Ready for shopping?” He has his cheeky smile on again. Sol glares in annoyance before turning behind to Yeseul.

“Did you make him drive?” Yeseul shakes her head and spills out her defensive explanation.

“Oppa called me up yesterday! He just said he needed my help to accompany you shopping for a dress!”

“Then, why is Bokgi here? Trying on dresses too?”

“Noona! I’m listening!” Joonhwi only laughs and shakes his head.

“He’s just accompanying me.” Joonhwi says as he begins to drive off.

Well, Joonhwi wasn't lying. He waited till their quizzes and projects were over before executing this. He knew Sol was busy, and had waited for the busy season to pass before calling Yeseul. He explained that he knew Sol would not go shop for a dress, and he needs her help to accompany him and her. She willingly, too willingly, agreed.

Next, he asked Sol B if he could borrow her car, knowing how Sol was not going to go home with just one dress and one pair of shoes when Yeseul was involved. Sol B was skeptical, but just passed the keys over to him. Besides, she was going to be in school studying all day; she didn’t need the car. Bokgi joined in, as Joonhwi couldn’t spend hours on end waiting for the ladies to shop. On further thought, Bokgi just might help him out with something.

“I could go myself with Yeseul. You didn’t have to wake up for this.” Sol mutters just loud enough for him to hear, fiddling with her fingers. Joonhwi returns with a light scoff.

“As if you’ll do it.” Sol glares at him from the side and is ready to punch him, but retracts her hand, knowing she might literally kill everyone in the car. The ride from the school to the bustling heart of Seoul is a rough twenty minute ride. Bokgi takes this time to catch a wink and Sol does the same, but she can't seem to do it.

Something about Joonhwi bringing her out to buy a dress specially made her heart flutter a bit more than usual. She knew that Joonhwi cared for her. The ways that he left rolls of gimbaps and energy drinks as opposed to coffee on her table during her tough days. The moments when he would offer his jacket as a pillow wordlessly when she wanted to rest her head after hours of studying. The unspoken synchronisation between them was just a showing of how they understood each other inside and out.

Sol thought nothing of it. She knew him as long as she stepped into school when he saved her from Professor Yang. They spent almost everyday studying, having classes and eating together. After all, they are best friends, and don’t best friends do this? They look out for each other, right?

He is going to be my plus-one at Jiyoon’s wedding. He’s taking me to shop for a dress.

Sol wonders, truly for the car ride as she stares outside at the blue skies and empty streets of Seoul, if Han Joonhwi meant more than friends to her. If… she wanted more.

Deep down, she couldn’t deny hoping for more. She liked the way he looked at her, eyes crinkled and smiling in half moons, the sweet smile that she couldn’t help but return. She has never had many relationships, considering her experience in school and afterwards. She was just too busy; too focussed. Seeing how this man cared for her just made her feel so… special.

She has never felt that way.

#original by akinosakiya #jtbc law school #law school #jtbc drama #jtbc #joonsola #kang sol a #kang sol a x han joon hwi #solhwi #han joon hwi #netflix #kdrama #wedding #ryu hye young #kim beom #kim bum

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matryosika · 4 years ago

Text

shoot me, chapter III

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III

word count for this chapter — 3.7 k

warnings — suggestive, slight jisung x reader, mentions of alcohol, possessive and jealous changbin, choking and sexual tension.

note — i have been pretty ia lately because i'm full of school work to do. my semester is coming to an end, so i must turn in final projects and take my final tests too. i'm normally much active than i have been on this account, i promise to get back to you as soon as school ends for me. this chapter has just sexual tension but not smut smut and it's shorter than the rest but i needed to divide the chapter because it became way too long. smut promised for next one that i will be uploading this weekend (hopefully!)

taglist: @cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i don't think we should to that again

it was a mistake

you looked at your phone at a extreme state of confusion. he had left your place minutes ago and, after an amazing session of oral sex, a lovely dinner and a extremely bearable (maybe even good) late-night talk, the walk to his car was all it took for him to develop a guilt complex?

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i just needed to vent but honestly, getting with you can really damage my future and that's not something i'm willing to jeopardize for sex.

you read his messages over and over again. it was the "i just needed to vent" that got backlash from you... did he really just came to your place only to ease his sexual frustrations?

you were still siting in the living room, hugging your knees to your chest. you hadn't lose self control once but twice, and not to mention it was with a man whose only purpose all along was to use you to feel better about himself.

"you really touched bottom this time" you whispered to yourself, feeling the need to take a second shower in order to rinse away all the traces from his touches and kisses on your skin.

maybe it wasn't really the guilt that bothered you. maybe it was the fact that, tonight, was probably the best night you've ever had for a while. he took well care of you, after finishing he cleaned you up and carried you to your room so you could take a shower and change your clothes.

he patiently waited for you while sitting at the edge of your bed and, when you were done showering, some delicious food he ordered was already expecting both of you at the dinning room of the house. during dinner, you told him a little bit about your life in japan and shared some childhood memories with him.

things were good, maybe too good for your own liking, but it only took a couple of minutes for changbin to remind you who he truly was.

not only that, but you also wouldn't admit the fact that you had a great time with him.

you spent the rest of the week calmly, having to hang out with changbin more times than you actually wanted to. he would often act like a gentleman in front of his parents and arthur, trying to engage in coversations with you often, asking you about your major and your adolescence in japan. you thought that he was just doing that in an attempt to hide the awkwardness of the air every time you had to spend time with him at arthur's company, but that didn't completely eased the fact that you felt your blood boil every time you had to be near him.

"you are coming, right?" ryujin cried from the other side of the phone "you told me you wanted to come!"

fuck, chan's party was this weekend.

"uhhhh" you mumbled "ryujin i don't feel good"

"y/n!" she screamed "is it because of changbin? baby? i have known you since pre-school, are you really feeling bad over a man you met barely 2 weeks ago?"

ryujin was right. you hated men, you truly did. and you were too proud about the fact that you had never cried over one, let alone have your heart broken by any of them. and it wasn't changbin you were sad about but the fact that he used you, you let him and then tried to act like nothing ever happened between both of you, which was even more humilliating. it always seemed like you had everything controlled but this time he was the one who got the last word and that was something you just couldn't accept.

"besides" ryujin added without leaving time for you to talk "i don't even think he is coming, chan said that he invited more people outside his friend group because some of them were not going to make it tonight, maybe he is one of them"

"maybe" you said "but i'm not willing to take a risk on that, ryujin"

you couldn't see her, but you could clearly picture how she was pouting at that exact moment. "y/n, you will eventually go back to japan and we will not be able to hang out anymore. is that what you want? do you want to reject your best friend on a saturday night? plus! the last time i took you to itaewon you had a great time!"

"speak for yourself ryujin" you mutered

"PLEASE" she screamed, making you squirm in your place "i promise that i will be by your side the whole time, i won't get distracted by the gorgeous, precious, well-built, amazing...."

"alright" you interrupted her "i know you are lying but i want to believe you for once"

she did a little scream of victory on the other side of the line and proceeded to set an hour to pick you up, almost against your will.

"what's the special occasion?" you asked ryujin as she went through all your clothes that were now laying around your bedroom floor, trying to find the perfect outfit for chan's party because you were dressed too casual, apparently.

"today it's the birthday of one of his closest friends" she said, almost in a hurry "and we are now running late because of your choice of clothes"

"i didn't knew there was a dresscode" you said, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"oh no, there isn't" she responded, now lurking around your suitcase and bags "but you need to let know changbin what he is missing out"

you rolled your eyes and grunted, of course. ryujin was that type of friend who would hype you up while you wear a killer outfit just to piss off a man.

"FINALLY" she screamed, finding the black dress that you stole from changbin at coex "i knew you had something around"

with hesitant eyes you looked at her handing you the dress, not sure if this easy outfit, like changbin said, would fit the occasion. "go on, it's almost 9 p.m."

by the bar incident you learned that chan, changbin and the whole friend group were a bunch of privileged men, but you didn't quite understand how privileged they were until you found yourself outside chan's house. the architecture looked excentric but expensive, at the same time. it was located in a pretty nice neighbourhood and was specially afar from the rest of the houses as if the most important value around was privacy.

you looked at ryujin and she seemed nervous. understandable. she came from a decent household but this right here just looked like the mansion of a western celebrity.

"are you alright?" you asked her, closing the door of her car before walking towards the stairs that lead you to the front door.

"this is the first time i'll get to meet chan's friends" she responded, making a grimace as she retracted "well, the second time, but i can barely remember the night at the bar"

"right"

right before she could continue talking, the front door opened and chan greeted you both. "ladies"

you bowed down to chan and ryujin immediately jumped into his arms, receiving a kiss in her cheek by the man himself "could you not?" you joked, watching chan's face turning bright red by the unexpected and euphoric physical contact.

"i missed him!" ryujin defended herself, locking her arms behind his neck.

"come in, y/n" he said, opening the door wider so you and ryujin could come in.

"who's the birthday boy?" you asked, your eyes scanning the insides of the house looking for any sign of changbin.

"it's jeongin's birthday" he said, proudly smiling like the father of an 8-year-old son "he's right there, at the couch. maybe you recall him from the bar"

you saw his face and immediatly remembered him. "yeah, the guy who just couldn't stop laughing"

"that's the one" chan said, standing right besides ryujin "let's go, let me introduce you to them"

the next hour was spent peacefully and you were almost thankful that ryujin begged you to come. jeongin, the birthday boy, was already drunk by 10:00 p.m. and kept making bad jokes that cracked everyone up. ryujin left with chan to god-knows-where and you were stucked with jisung and hyunjin at the living room, drinking ocasionally and having a good time.

"i remember you from the bar" jisung mumbled, getting closer to your ear as the music was already too loud. "i wanted to chat with you, but you disappeared quickly"

his breath smelled like cherries and alcohol as he was too close to you, but you couldn't complain. it was almost intoxicating in the best way possible.

"yeah i was not having a good time"

he smiled proudly "i'm sure i could have made it better"

a sarcastic chuckled escaped your lips as he placed a hand on his chest "you don't believe me?"

"i don't believe any man for that matter" you replied almost in a flirty way, not that you wanted to tho but the alcohol was already making you feel a tad extroverted.

"but i'm not any man" jisung whispered on your ear, making you feel goosebumps over the entirety of your body. before you could even say something back, he grabbed you by the hand and took you outside of the living room and into the patio, where a lot of people were gathered drinking and dancing.

"oh, i'm not good at dancing" you tried to escape, jisung holding you by one of your hands.

"you don't have to be good at dancing to enjoy it" he pouted, still convincing you to join him at the improvised dance floor that people made right at the center of the courtyard "c'mon y/n"

you were not too fond of dancing, but the music that was playing and jisung's insistence made you accept the offer. with small jumps of excitement he drove you to the crowd of people and started to move around you like a fool, inspiring you confidence to losen up a bit.

"i'm not used to this" you admit, moving your body to the sound of "criminal" by taemin, one of your favorite songs ever.

"there's always a first time for everything" he mumbled, his face dangerously close to yours "here"

his hands traveled to your waist and he held you closer to his body, feeling his soft and warm sking against the naked parts of your. "just let your body move with the music, it's not hard"

jisung's presence was extremely intoxicated and captivating, but not enough to keep you from notice changbin entering to courtyard.

and he wasn't alone.

your whole body tensed and you could feel how jisung stepped back a little bit. "did i do something wrong?"

you parted your gaze from changbin as soon as he saw your body pressed against him, and you gave a faint smile to jisung.

"no, i just felt shy for a moment"

he gave you a wide smile and continue to hold you even closer, your hips moving involuntary against his pelvic area and his eyes firmly fixed into you. "god, you are so precious"

"am i?" you asked, tilting your head to the side while dancing.

you could feel changbin's gazed nailed into your body and that was making you do stupid things. you wanted to make him feel jealous, for some reason, but using a man you just met wasn't something that would fit in your principles.

"mhm" he hummed, the movements of both of you getting slower as the song progressed. jisung's lips brushed softly against yours pratically begging for a kiss, but you knew that it was way too early for that.

you turned around on your place, your back now pressed to his chest, as you continued to dance against his body. his hands were glued to your waist and ocasionally would visit your hips, moving at the same rythm as you did. a different song was playing right now, but you didn't even noticed as your mind was flooded with thoughts. who was changbin with? was she his girlfriend? was he still there watching you? were you dancing with jisung just to piss him off? and most importantly, why did you feel the need to make him jealous in the first place?

before the trail of thoughts continued on your head, jisung's hand traveled from the tip of your fingers to your left shoulder, his fine digits dancing around your naked clavicles. "did i tell you that this dress looks amazing on you?"

his voice, the trace of his fingers and his scent made you act completely dumb around him, it was almost painful to watch. with a swift movement, you were now facing him again and kept on moving slowly. "i don't think so"

"well" he said, leaning one more time to leave a faint kiss on your lips "you look amazing on that dress"

and without expecting an answer from you, he kissed you.

his lips tasted exactly the same as his scent. the mixture of cherries, strawberries and alcohol intoxicated your five senses, making you unable to think about what you were doing. the kiss was everything except rushed, as if he was taking his time to taste every single inch of your lips and tongue. his hands were resting on your waist and lower back and the song that was now playing just fit the whole mood the both of you created, right until...

"do you mind?" a man's voice asked while you felt a grip on your forearm.

"give me a break man" jisung said, interrupting the kiss. it was no other than changbin, standing right in the middle of you and jisung.

"she is drunk" changbin said, almost in a threatening tone.

"i am not" you responded, trying to get out of changbin's grip.

"we are in the middle of something here" jisung insisted, trying to get between you and the grip changbin had on your arm.

"i'm not in the mood for a chat, han" his voice turned ten times deeper and his body language reminded you of that night at itaewon "i'm taking her home because he drank too much"

"let go off of me"

but he did not let go of you and continued dragging you across the whole courtyard and into the living room. "aren't you supposed to be with your girlfriend?"

you started to curse him openly, but he wouldn't slow down his pace. he took you out of the house and into his car without even saying a word.

"you are acting as if you were my owner" you grunted, looking for your phone inside of your purse "you just love to order me around, don't you?"

"that didn't seem to upset you at the bar and your house" he scoffed, his voice going completely cold as ice.

"you bringing that topic now is just miserable" you laughed as he started the car "i was about to enjoy a good night of fucking, something i never got to do with you because you are a coward"

changbin's jaw tensed up and you could feel how the car started to go faster.

the adrenaline of changbin's jealousy, the alcohol, jisung's taste and the speed of the car were making you feel particularly bold tonight, something you knew you would regret the morning after.

"why do you tense up?" you asked, teasing him "i know you wanted to fuck me so bad but still decided to not jeopardize your future for a night of sex"

you were not completely sure, but it was kind of obvious that changbin wasn't driving to your house. you tried to catch a glimpse of the street names as if that was going to be helpful to a foreigner, but it was too dark outside.

"you are not going to talk now?" you asked him, taking off your high-heels as your whole body rested on the car seat. "you were so bold a few minutes ago, trying to act like a fucking man intimidating jisung at chan's house. two nights of oral sex and i have that much of a grip on you, changbin?"

he wouldn't respond, and that only made your blood boil even more.

"you are so fucking pathetic" you muttered, looking directly at him as his gaze was completely fixed on the road.

the car took a sudden turn and parked right in front of a complex of apartments. without hesitation, he got out and opened the door for you, carrying you into his shoulder inside the elevator of the lobby.

the scene was pretty much awkward as you faced yourself into the elevator mirror. your hair was completely messed up and your lipstick was a bit smudged but other than that, you looked completely sober. not only that, but he knew that you weren't drunk. he just made that excuse.

the doors of the elevators opened on the 12th floor and you were glad that no one was waiting for it outside, otherwise they would've seen your ass on changbin's shoulder.

"you know i'm not drunk, right?" you said, still resting on his shoulders while he took his keys from the pocket of his black pants

"just shut the fuck up for a moment" he said, carrying you and leaving you standing inside of his apartment as he turned all the lights inside on.

"i knew your behavior as a gentleman was a fucking act and you only did that in front of your parents and arthur"

"you are so annoying" changbin whispered as he walked towards the black leather couch in the middle of the living room of his apartment. you followed him and walked right behind him.

"i don't have anything to do here, changbin" you mumbled, his back turned against you. you wanted to tease him, you needed to. for an unknown reason, you felt the sudden urge to make him mad, to make him explode. you needed things to escalate quickly so he would give you another reason for you to hate him even more "i can't believe i should be fucking with jisung right now but instead i'm-"

before you could finish that sentence, you felt changbin's grip on both sides of your neck "go on, keep on talking"

the lack of oxygen, the sudden movement of changbin against your body and his gaze flooded with anger made your legs tremeble "keep on fucking talking"

you could barely swallow by how hard his right hand was grasping onto your neck "look at you" you whispered with broken words, smirking as your eyes unconciously closed because of the pleasure "are you jealous, changbin?"

"why don't you answer the question, y/n?" he asked, his hold on your neck becoming softer as his lips approached your right ear "how did you felt when you saw me with that girl earlier today?"

an ironic laugh left your lips, trying to shield yourself from the obvious thing. "i don't know what game you are playing, changbin, but i didn't felt shit"

"really?" he hummed, his raspy voice near your ear made you squeeze your thighs together unconciously, and even though his hand was merely just resting on your neck, the arousal you felt from his grip was still there. "i know you saw me with her, and i could tell how that made you dance for jisung more... enthusiastically"

"you are wrong" you replied, pushing him slightly away "and pathetic, getting jealous when you were the one who cutted things off since the beginning"

"he is an asshole" changbin said with a mocking and sarcastic tone, his fingers tracing the naked skin of your arms as he licked his lips "and i must protect you, like arthur said. isn't that right?"

"he is a good kisser" you answered "i bet he fucks better than you too, not that i would know though because i never got to fuck with you"

changbin's eyes drifted from your skin to your eyes in a matter of miliseconds and for the first time in the evening you regretted saying something. "you are just begging for me to fuck you, aren't you?"

"don't get confused" you spitted "i don't want to have anything to do with you"

his hand traveled slowly to the end of your dress, lifting it up and reaching for your, now soaking, panties. his digits traced your slit and you swallowed hard in anticipation for whatever humiliating thing he was about to say. "are you sure?"

he removed his fingers from your core and were now glistening thanks to the light coming from the window of his apartment. "look at me and tell me that you don't want me to fuck you"

"look at me and tell me that you didn't felt jealous when you saw me with jisung" yo fired back, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

"i did" he admitted "i can't even begin to explain how mad i felt at the sight of your precious body pressing against his. all i wanted to do at that exact moment was to fuck you right in front of everybody, including him"

his hands toured to your back, unzipping the dress you were wearing as he looked directly into your eyes trying to decode if you actually wanted this or not.

"i know what i said last week" changbin mumbled, his fingers helping you to drag the straps on your dress all the way to your wrists "but your existence is fucking me up"

your heart started to beat even faster, your breath accelerated "and it wasn't until i saw you with someone else where i realized that i needed to make you completely mine, even just once"

you soon found yourself in your underwear right in front of him, his eyes looking at you up and down several times making you feel intimidated. you had two options: loose your self-control for the third time and do something that you truly wanted to, or leave his apartment feeling proud.

but you already made that choice when you didn't fought back enough to stop him from driving you to his place.

"please ruin me" you whispered, your soul immersed in arousal, guilt and regret.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #skz angst #stray kids angst #changbin smut #changbin angst #changbin x reader #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz oneshots

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alderaani · 4 years ago

Text

prison break (echo x reader)

A valentines gift for @just-some-girl-92 as part of the event being run by @starwarsfandomfests! Thanks so much for putting another one of these together @lilhawkeye3, and I really hope you like this Dell! I think credit for white haired Echo goes to @/amiro-art? That was the first place I saw it anyway, and I’ve really liked the headcanon that it’s like that post-techno union ever since!

Based on this prompt: Character A moves in next to Character B. They have conjoined balconies and A's pet/child wanders into B's apartment.

Fives and Echo are both reunited and well in this because everyone gets to be happy on Valentine’s Day and I said so. We don’t need canon on this blog.

The other side of the wall explodes with noise.

It makes you pause, looking up from the knitting trailing over your knees to cock your head towards the opposite apartment. You think you hear the screech of furniture legs being pushed along the floor, then the frantic rumble of several male voices speaking over the top of each other, the clatter and clang of things as they are removed and replaced.

It’s odd. When Tith-Mar lived next door, you used to hear it every time he coughed, or swore at that awful old holodrama he used to watch every Taungsday. As much as you tried to stop yourself you couldn’t help but get invested, and that was almost worse. Out of pride you never put it on your own unit, but that just meant you ended up half pressed against the wall, eventually not even pretending you weren’t listening to Capula and Mont confess their love. It had given you something to talk about, anyway, when you went onto the balcony to water your plants and he went out there to smoke the fancy deathsticks he joked he’d live and die by.

In the year since the war ended and Tith-Mar was finally able to move back out to be with his daughter on Ryloth you’ve never quite gotten used to the quiet. There was a strange comfort in knowing that there was someone on the other side of the wall. Maybe it came from the three years of water shortages and occasional outages - or, notably, the rampage of the Zillo beast, which hadn’t come quite close enough to flatten you in your sleep, but had downed enough of the power grid that you’d been locked in your apartment for five rotations. You miss the soft Rylothi folk music he used to play in the mornings, and you miss seeing him sometimes, blowing smoke up into the brisk Coruscant mornings with his blue lek, faded now in old age, wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

You just miss the comforting assurance of having someone else there. If it wasn’t for the sound of the door going, and the occasional thump of something being moved, you’d hardly know that you had neighbours at all now. It’s almost funny to think back on the furore it caused when the Republic bought the apartment for GAR resettlement. It led to the only neighbourhood meeting the building has ever had, and you’ve been very glad for that fact after discovering that a solid faction of your fellow citizens are bigots. It’s something you knew, objectively, but witnessing it from the people you personally rub shoulders with was a harder pill to swallow than having to watch some of the anti-clone protests on the holonews. You’ve not tried to remember the more colourful misconceptions about clone troopers aired by prim soft-handed mid-levellers as they sat in a lobby you can remember the Coruscant Guard clearing rubble from with nothing but their hands. However, you do very vividly remember someone from two floors up asking you if you’d ‘really feel safe’ living next to ‘those walking warmongers’, being young and living on your own. You’d shut that down, of course, and the resulting vote had passed in favour.

You’d honestly half expected the troopers to reject the place after that, and you wouldn’t have blamed them either.

Everyone had known the day they moved in, had pretended not to watch as a GAR issue speeder loaded with two armoured figures and a meagre quantity of possessions had pulled up on the walkway and made their way cautiously inside. You’d thought about introducing yourself, knocking or something, but concluded in the end that they didn’t need anyone else ogling them. You’d figured that there would be plenty of time for that later...and now here you are, a whole year on, and that glimpse is just about the closest you’ve ever gotten to them. You think they still spend a lot of time off-planet, helping with the reconstruction missions the now-voluntary GAR conducts throughout the Mid and Outer Rims. You hadn’t even been sure that they were home at the moment, actually.

There’s no doubting it now, as the frantic thumps and raised voices continue. Through your balcony door, cracked open to catch some of the soft breeze the weather engineers have scheduled today, you can make out a little of what their voices are saying, one frantic and forceful, the other softer, but no less worried.

“ - kriffing hell, can’t believe we’ve lost...Rex will have our heads…”

“...can’t have gotten far...can’t even walk!”

“ - already checked the fresher, Echo!”

“It can’t hurt to check twice...knew we shouldn’t have…”

You bite your lip, turning round while debating whether you should offer your help. Then you freeze. The baby on the other side of your caf table freezes too, chubby hand poised to grab the cookie you’d been saving for later. They’re standing on legs that wobble a bit, and there’s a glint of steely determination in the dark eyes that fix on your face.

“Hello,” you say a little weakly, realising very abruptly what the troopers must have lost.

The kid appraises you for a moment longer, brow furrowed and intent. There’s a huge amount of judgement there for such a small face, those focused eyes taking you in for several very long seconds. Then they huff, and very deliberately turn their attention back to the cookie. You smother an incredulous laugh.

“Not impressed, huh?” You say, carefully setting your knitting aside and uncovering your legs. “Can’t say I blame you, I prefer cookies too.”

The baby doesn’t dignify this with any attention, instead making a soft crowing noise as their little fingers strike victory and retract with the cookie firmly in grasp. When they immediately move to cram it into their mouth you burst into action, leaning across the caf table to swipe it. Just those mere seconds of contact have made it slightly damp.

The baby’s face scrunches in outrage, and they let go of the table edge, sinking down onto their padded bottom with a sharp, high noise of annoyance. They don’t cry, but the frown is something spectacular.

“Sorry, kid.” You force yourself the rest of the way up, keeping a hold on the cookie with one hand. Can kids this young even eat solid foods yet? Do they have any allergies? You don’t have any siblings, so the last time you were around a baby was when you were one. For all this one’s bravado, they look awfully breakable. “I’ll hang on to this for now, yeah?”

You don’t think that they’re old enough to understand what you’re saying, but the huff the baby lets out feels extremely pointed. You stare down at them on your rug.

“Don’t suppose you could give me any pointers on how to hold you?”

It turns out babies are wriggly. You put the cookie down long enough to hoist the kid into your arms and attempt to manoeuvre their little arms and legs so that they’re not jabbing into your vital organs, but at the sight of the food being placed far away, the kid lets out a piercing noise, right into your ear, and attempts to kamikaze their way back to it. A body that two seconds ago was ramrod solid and deliberately unwieldy is suddenly boneless and impossible to hold onto. Your brain goes empty of everything but wrestling with several pounds of struggling infant.

You end up on the floor, eventually, but at least both of you are in one piece. You’re breathing heavily. The kid’s face is thunderous. It’s very cute, but you can’t wait to give it back and appreciate that from a distance. Somehow, you manage to settle them onto your hip.

“What the f - heck was that for?” You ask, purely to make yourself feel better. Even if the kid could answer you, you get the feeling they simply wouldn’t. “Was it because I put the biscuit down?”

The kid makes a huffing noise. You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling. The baby’s dark, just-curling hair is soft against the skin of your upper arm, and their weight is warm and solid against your side.

“I’m not taking it away from you. I’m gonna let you have it, just need to make sure it’s safe for womp-rats first. And return you before those poor guys tear their place apart, okay?”

You re-collect the cookie and struggle back to your feet, looking towards the open balcony. Visions flash through your mind of the baby pulling that boneless trick out there, with nothing but spacelanes separating them from the ground 50 stories below, and...no. You’re not even vaguely risking that. The front door is definitely the better option, but somehow more daunting, as you stand before the neighbouring apartment with your heart in your throat.

The second you knock, the frantic voices inside cut off abruptly, and then you hear the mad scramble that ensues to reach the door. It wooshes open, and suddenly you’re face to face with your neighbours for the first time.

They’re less identical than you’d expected. Maybe that’s a stupid thought, but it’s the first one that stumbles, half formed and dazed, into the open void your brain has just become. The second, very unhelpful follow up, is that they’re also much prettier than you’d expected. Not that you’d necessarily expected anything, but - you’ve never seen one of the clones without their helmets before. The Corrie Guard, back during the war, had made a point of never taking them off as far as you’d ever seen. That was apparently a crying shame. One of them has thick, dark curly hair, a tidy goatee, and a tattoo on his forehead. The other’s hair is a sharp, startling white, interrupted by metal nodes of some sort. Some sort of post-war medical adaptation, you assume. He’s slightly leaner all over, his eyes a little larger in his face. But the way both of them sag against the door frame is exactly the same.

“Thank the fucking force,” The dark haired one breathes, clutching at his chest.

The other trooper elbows him sharply in the ribs. “Fives.”

“She’s ten months old, Echo. She’s not gonna repeat it.”

“She just escaped from our apartment after General Skywalker swore up and down she’s not mobile yet. It’s gonna be her first word just to spite us.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself and flush a little when all attention snaps back to you.

“That I can believe,” you force yourself to say. “Hi. I think I found something of yours.”

You hold out your armful of infant and - you presume Fives is his name - reaches out to take her, groaning in relief.

“Thank you,” he says, fervent, taking a moment to bury his face into the child’s hair. She puts a determined thumb into her mouth and stares at your hand, still clutching the cookie. The trooper turns her in his arms and holds her up at eye level. “You are a menace, Leia. I thought we were gonna have to call in a search.”

It’s nice to have a name for that little displeased face. Leia regards the trooper for a moment before sticking her hand into his face. His eyes are impossibly warm as he pretends to gobble her fingers, and it is, quite frankly, cute as fuck. He turns his attention back to you, but just as he opens his mouth, the sound of a comm going off somewhere behind them cuts through the moment.

“That’ll be the General,” The white-haired trooper laughs. “You better take her and show him, before he raises down half of Coruscant trying to get here.”

Fives nods, flashing another blinding grin at you, before he and Leia are gone. The trooper you’re left with blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face.

“Well,” he says, his mouth crooking into a wry smile. “That was exciting.”

He sticks his hand out, and when you take it, his palm is rough and his grip firm. You give him your name without thinking about it, staring into the kind, golden depths of his eyes. They crinkle at the corners when he grins.

“I’m Echo. And - I know Fives already said it, but seriously, thank you. Where the shab did you find her?”

“Trying to steal biscuits from my caf table,” you say, laughing openly when Echo drops his face back into his hand and groans with embarrassment. “I think she got in through the balcony door.”

“Force, we didn’t even think of that. What a first impression, you must think we’re idiots.”

You shake your head, enamoured by the faint colour you can see rising in his cheeks. He brings his metal hand up to his face and presses the cool prosthetic against his skin.

“Not at all. You should have seen the look she gave me when I found her, she knows she’s in charge.”

Echo smiles bashfully. “It’s the first time we’ve ever won the lot to babysit the twins, our Company would have crucified us if we’d lost her.”

“Then I’m very glad to have provided a rescue.”

There’s a short silence as you fidget with your sleeves, strange anticipation churning in your gut. There’s no reason to keep standing here now that the pleasantries are done with, the baby exchanged, but...some part of you resists it, almost looking for an excuse to stay. He and Fives are the first new friendly faces you’ve met in a long time, soothing a sting you didn’t know was there.

“I - um -,” Echo begins suddenly, shifting a little. The colour in his face deepens. “I really like your plants. I’ve always meant to say something. We keep trying to guess what they are.”

“Oh!” Your heart turns over in your chest and you wouldn’t be able to stop the smile bursting onto your face if you tried. Those damn things are so hard to keep alive through the unpredictable engineered weather. You don’t think you’re particularly house proud, but you do preen a little that he’s noticed. “Thank you, I, um, I water them every morning. I could...go through them with you one day? If you like?”

Echo’s head dips an assent. “I’d really like that.”

You linger a moment longer, a pleased thrill still lingering in your belly, but there’s no putting it off now. “I suppose I should let you go. But...please knock if you need anything.”

Echo smiles. “Hopefully not in pursuit of any more babies.”

You’re just about to turn away when you remember the cookie in your hand, slightly smushed now. “Oh! Can you give this to Leia? I wanted to make sure she could eat them, first, but I promised. Seemed only fair, since she went to all that trouble.”

Echo huffs, his expression softening, taking the cookie with careful hands. “I’ll make sure her highness gets it.”

Then you go back to your quiet apartment, somehow deflated when faced with the monotony of your knitting and your music. You hear a few more sounds from the other side of the wall, faint laughter, perhaps a child squealing, and find your curiosity has not been sated at all.

It’s a wonderful surprise, then, when two days later on a clear, sunlit morning, you slide open your balcony door to water the plants and find Echo waiting, his face tipped up to the brightening sky. There is a packet of cookies resting on the duracrete by his feet, and two steaming mugs of caf on the railing by his elbow.

It feels like something special...It feels like a beginning.

taglist // @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun @battletales @bad-batch-of-fics @iscream4clones @majorshiraharu @snippytano @missinashkin @808tsuika @eries45 @dom-i-nic //

#arc trooper echo #echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x you #arc trooper fives #fives #the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars fic #alderwrites

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tefilovesreading · 4 years ago

Text

Long overdue. Charlie Gillespie x OC

A/N: I’m really happy to finally share this one, it took me a while to finish it but I’m proud with the final result. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Summary: Charlie and Olivia used to be best friends, until he left their hometown to pursue his acting career without saying goodbye to his best friend, ruining their friendship. They meet again four years later.

Word count: +6k

Warning: some swearing, mention of a panic attack, angst????

Special thanks to my lovely @theamazingtomholland for helping me out and your sweet words! Also thanks to @thelawiswiththerose !!

MASTERLIST

When Olivia was just a kid, her grandfather used to joke about how she would grow up to become a historian because her memory was amazing,and she believed him. Until she realized that she had an excellent memory only when it came to things that matter to her or that made her the young woman she was now. She remembered meeting her current best friend on April 7th,four years ago. She knew her heart got broken for the first time on March 31st when she was only fifteen, it was a Monday, and she didn’t cry because she needed to get through her classes. Or how she lost a piece of herself when her grandpa died when she was just five years old on May 31st.

She unlocked her phone and felt her heart get a little bit heavier when she saw the date on the screen:

August 26.

Four years ago, when they both were eighteen, things were easier for sure, at least for Charlie. Olivia wasn’t doing bad either but seeing her childhood best friend kiss another girl in front of her wasn’t something she enjoyed. How could someone watch the person they’ve loved for years kiss someone else and not feel like they were getting their heart crushed little by little?

They spent the day with their friends, celebrating Charlie’s last birthday near the river before he moved to Toronto to pursue his acting career a week later. Olivia could still remember how happy he looked sitting next to the bonfire; his arms wrapped around his then- girlfriend laughing about something his friend had said. Sat just across from them, giving the couple and herself some space, she knew her heart was going to break again that night. And it did because he ditched her at the end of the night when he was supposed to make sure she got home safely just like he promised her parents he would.

She remembered how scared she felt walking back home in the dark by herself even when she knew their neighbourhood was safe and she wasn’t far from her house. But she was terrified of darkness and Charlie was the only one in their group of friends that knew it. Olivia cursed his name over and over again for putting her in that position, for leaving her alone, and thinking about the reason made her feel sick. Of course, she knew why he left without telling her but admitting it out loud wasn’t something she was willing to do.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she rubbed her eyes, making her put that memory away. It was her mother letting her know that their flight had just landed, and they were ready for their two weeks in the Caribbean.

“Seems like it’s gonna be just us, Peanut,” she whispered to the black dog curled up next to her on the couch. Scratching the dog’s belly, she turned her attention back to the TV where Meryl Streep was singing Money, Money, Money.

Her stomach growled, remembering that she barely had eaten something and it was already dinner time.

Noises outside her house caught her attention, they sounded a lot like laughs, instead of making her way to the kitchen, she went to the closest window and peeked outside just enough for her heart to drop.

He was there laughing without a care in the world, his hair falling back in messy waves that her fingers suddenly needed to touch.

Closing the curtains before her neighbors could see her, she wiped furiously the lonely tear that managed to escape from her eyes before it could leave a trail down her cheek.

What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Los Angeles, not here. She made sure not to be in town whenever she thought he could come back, spending numerous mother’s days somewhere else, or making sure she wasn’t home for his mother’s birthday. Christmas was easier because her entire family gathered up in her grandma’s house every single year. But he never came back to their hometown for his birthday, until this year.

The anger she felt after his birthday four years ago came back like an earthquake, making her body tremble with the feeling she kept bottled up for so long.

It wasn’t just the fact that Charlie left her on her own when he promised to take her back home. He didn’t apologize the day after for leaving her alone or the day after that one. Hell, he didn’t try to talk to her that entire week and when the week came to its end, he just left, not even saying goodbye to her.

Charlie moved out and never looked back. As if he completely forgot about the girl that was his best friend since they both were eight years old. The same girl that stood up for him whenever the mean guys at their school made fun of him for not getting the part after his first couple auditions. The same girl he spent so many summers playing with, countless winters playing in the snow with her until they felt like their fingers were beyond frozen.

That was what she was hurt and mad about. He forgot about her existence and all the memories they ever made together. And Olivia couldn’t do the same because even if she hated to admit it, she still loved him, maybe not like she used to, but she still had love to give to the boy standing outside the house she used to spend so much of her free time when she was younger.

And because the universe was against her, the dog ran towards the front door, barking at it and letting her know that she wanted to go out for a walk.

“We can’t go now, baby,” she shushed Peanut, but the small dog didn’t try to pay attention to her words and kept barking and spinning in excitement. She wanted to go out now and not even a treat would make her change her mind, “you are so stubborn, Pea.”

Peanut was a small dog, but her barks were resonating all over the house, breaking the silence and she knew it was about time someone came and ringed the doorbell to make sure everything was alright. A fast exit, that was what she needed, she could put her earbuds on and pretend she was going for a run, give them a small nod if they still were outside and get out of there as fast as she could.

She put her sneakers on, put on some music, opened the door, and tugged lightly on the dog leash to make her dog walk. Not looking at the people standing in the driveway was a difficult task, because she never stopped greeting the rest of the Gillespie family. How could she? It wasn’t their fault that her friendship with Charlie went to shit.

“Hey!” Meghan called her and turning her head slowly she nodded at them and pointed to her earbuds as if she were on the phone.

Charlie looked at her and realized she was avoiding his eyes, not even acknowledging his presence. Looking at the way her features had changed, turning her into a beautiful young woman, the childish features were long gone, which let him know how long it has been since the last time he saw her in person. Her long light brown hair was now up to her shoulders and a few shades lighter. Watching her walk away made his heart ache in a way he didn’t feel since he moved out.

“I didn’t know the Gibson still lived here.” The words came out loud enough for his sister to listen to what he said, and she punched him in the arm.

“She made sure to be out of town every time you came home, dumbass,” making a grimace he nodded, not wanting to talk about the subject, “I still don’t understand what happened between you guys, you were really good friends, and I was sure you liked her as more than a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing damn well Meghan wasn’t going to just drop it, “it’s none of your business.”

“My guess is you told her you liked her, and she rejected you,” Patrick said with a knowing look on his face. Charlie snorted and shook his head.

“Again,” he warned, “drop it, guys.” His brother held his hand up and went inside, leaving him alone with his younger sister.

“All I’m gonna say is you should try to not mess with her, Charlie,” Meghan held him by his arm, making sure he was paying attention to her word, “it was awful to see how sad and broken she was when you left and I know you said it’s none of my business, but I was her friend too and she pushed me away for whatever the fuck happened between you two.”

“I won’t, Meg,” he promised, guiding her inside so Olivia didn’t have to see him once she came back. But if he was being honest, he didn’t want to see the pain in her face she failed to hide when she saw him standing next to Meghan.

Sprinting back to her house, Olivia let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Charlie wasn’t outside anymore. She didn’t really know how to feel, sure she felt as angry as she did four years ago but seeing Charlie in person after so long brought a feeling she didn’t know how to describe. And of course, she wasn’t blind and knew that he looked even better than he did before he left, so that didn’t really help her situation.

Looking back to his house one last time, she caught him in the window, and he gave her a small smile she didn’t return. Instead, she unlocked the front door and slammed it shut. If Charlie thought that she would act as if nothing happened, he was wrong. Not even his smile could erase how betrayed she felt.

After a long early walk with Peanut the next day, she hoped she wouldn’t have to go out and run into Charlie again. The feeling that he was going to try and approach her the next time they ran into each other gave her goosebumps. Olivia knew that talking things out would make her feel a lot better, but she wasn’t ready to do it. He would want to know why she was so angry and hurt and that meant she would have to tell him she used to be in love with him and how betrayed she felt when he left without apologizing, leaving behind their friendship as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

With an iced tea in one hand and a book in the other, she made herself comfortable in the hammock her father hanged every summer. Peanut was trying to catch her tail and the only noise Olivia could hear were the birds above her.

She lost track of time and Peanut’s barks brought her back to reality. Crouched in her garden was Charlie, trying to get the black dog to stay put so he could pet her, but she was too excited to see someone and was running around him and barking.

“What are you doing here?” her voice came out hoarse, her body too tense with Charlie just a few feet away.

“I wanted to say hi,” he responded without looking at her and still trying to pet Peanut.

“Peanut come here,” Olivia commanded, and the little dog ran up to her owner, “you need to leave.”

“C’mon, Liv,” Charlie stood up and looked at her with puppy eyes, “I just wanna talk.”

“Olivia,” she corrected him and picked up her dog, “you need to leave now.”

“Why?” he demanded to know once he saw her walking towards the door. She turned around stunned by his audacity.

“You have no right to be here, Charlie,” he raised his eyebrows, taken back at her harsh answer, “you don’t get to call me Liv or come into my house so I’m telling you again. Leave. Now.”

“Just listen to me, please,” Olivia shook her head and went inside, slamming the door behind her.

She was able to take a couple of steps away from the door when she had to kneel, feeling like she was about to pass out, her heart pounding fast in her chest and her lungs barely being able to hold air inside them. Peanut licked her face trying to calm her down, but the tears kept falling down her cheeks.

“Liv, please.” Charlie’s voice sounded worried on the other side of the door. “Let me in.” A whimpering sound came out of her mouth and the next thing she heard was the door being open.

She wished Charlie’s embrace could comfort her and calm her down, but she kept crying into her hands. Her heart too fragile now that Charlie was everywhere, his smell, his touch, and his voice were too much for her.

Charlie picked her up and took her to her bedroom. A strong feeling of nostalgia took over him when he saw the room hadn’t changed much, probably because she also moved out and moved on with her life after he left.

“I’ll get you a glass of water and then I’m gonna leave, I promise.” A scoff was all he received.

“As if you knew how to keep one,” she muttered with bitterness when she heard him leave her room.

He placed a glass of water on her nightstand, “do you want me to call my sister to keep you company?” she shook her head and closed her eyes too tired to keep fighting against him.

“Are you feeling better?” Charlie asked again and wiped a tear from Olivia’s cheek with his thumb. With a small nod, she turned her back to him. “Liv, I really wanna talk.”

“Stop calling me Liv, please.” The mattress shifted when Charlie sat beside her, not wanting to leave yet.

“I’ve never called you Olivia.”

“Charlie.” Her voice sounded raspy and incredibly tired and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for making her feel like that. “I really need you to leave me alone and let me get my shit together. Please.”

“Right,” Charlie stood up quickly and looked around not really knowing what else to say, “I’m sorry, Olivia. I never meant to make you feel like I cornered you or something.”

She didn’t respond, and when she heard the front door closing, she covered her head with a pillow and let out a scream. She hated to feel so powerless, so confused and so hurt. It felt like he just decided to reopen a wound that took too long to close and now it was painfully bleeding again.

It was heartbreaking to see her sobbing on the floor and not being able to calm her, to tell her that he never meant to leave like that.

“Where were you?” his sister questioned when she saw him with guilt all over his face, “Charlie, I told you not to mess with Olivia. What did you do now?”

“I don’t know.” He did though. He knew what did just a few minutes ago and what he did four years ago.

“Is she alright?” the hazel-eyed boy nodded and then shrugged, rubbing his palms over his face, feeling the frustration take over his body.

“I needed to talk to her, but she shot me down the moment she saw me, and then I think she was about to have a panic attack or something. She was better when I left.”

Charlie didn’t remember seeing her like that when they still were friends, Olivia was so determined and optimistic, not as impulsive as he was but always open for a new adventure or a trip with him and his siblings. But then, he started to have feelings for his best friend and decided that it wasn’t worth it to ruin their friendship and buried those feelings by getting a girlfriend just to act as if he wasn’t in love with Olivia. He knew it was mutual but what was the point of dating if he was going to move to Toronto and she was going to stay in New Brunswick.

Leaving her after his birthday four years ago was one of the things he regretted the most. He knew damn well she was afraid of the dark and yet he broke his promise. Charlie tried to put some distance between them so it wouldn’t hurt as much once he moved out, but he ended up messing everything.

“She didn’t even let me call her Liv, Meg.” His sister sat next to him and hugged him.

“We stopped calling her like that after you left,” she explained feeling sorry for him, “I guess it reminded her of you too much since you were the one that gave her the nickname.”

At lunchtime, Charlie made his way to his ex-best friend’s house with a portion of his birthday cake and the Tuna Pasta Salad his mom cooked for lunch. It wasn’t like he was planning to have lunch with her, but if getting her lunch and dessert gave him another shot, he’d even consider getting her breakfast the next morning.

He opened the backdoor just like he just did when they were younger and went straight into the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t catch him sneaking into her house.

“Fuck it,” he whispered when he didn’t hear noise upstairs. With the food now in a tray, Charlie went upstairs.

Liv was in the same place she was before he left earlier. The Scottie lifted her head when he entered the room but didn’t bark at him and curled up again next to her sleeping owner. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put the tray down and let out his breath.

“Hey,” his voice broke the silence they were in and Olivia moved in her sleep but didn’t wake up, “I got you food, Liv,” He said again this time a little bit louder.

“What?” she questioned; her mind fuzzy with sleep to understand what was happening.

“My mom made lunch and if I’m not wrong, it was your favorite.” The answer was simple, but why would he even bother to get her lunch if she told him to leave her alone.

“What time is it?” she asked again sitting up in bed rubbing her left eye with her hand.

“Time for you to eat,” the boy pointed to the tray next to her and stood up, “I brought you cake, I thought you’d like it.”

“Thanks?” Charlie let out a soft laugh and left. “Charlie!” She called out and he came back with a hopeful look in his eyes. “I made it,” Olivia pointed at the cake and his cheek started to turn pink in embarrassment.

“You made my birthday cake.”

Olivia shrugged as if it was nothing. “Meg asked me to,” she grabbed the fork and continued, “you know it’s my job, right?”

“What do you mean?” Charlie sat again in the bed taking every chance to keep the conversation going.

“I have a bakery.” She had a fucking bakery, and he didn’t even know. How would he? He never made questions about her, but he thought his family would tell him such a big thing. “Thanks for the food.” And that was his sign for him to leave.

“Thanks for the birthday cake.”

Olivia had her own bakery and made him a birthday cake, it was her job but still, she knew it was for him and made it anyway. That had to mean something, right?

Charlie was right, it was her favorite meal. She could have graduated from one of the most prestigious cooking schools in Canada but not even her fancy cooking school could beat Jeannette’s salad. She remembered Jeannette telling her that the magic was in her secret ingredient when she was younger and after all this time, she still wasn’t able to figure out what it was.

Her phone vibrated with a new notification and she smiled when she saw a picture of her parents with cocktails in their hands. She hated the fact that she’d have to leave a couple of days before they came back, but she needed to go and pack the few things she still had left in her old apartment back in Vancouver and move all her stuff across the country and into her new apartment.

The doorbell woke up the puppy from her nap and ran towards the door, letting Olivia know someone was outside.

“You would never think those barks belong to such a tiny animal,” Meghan chuckled when she opened the door and Peanut started to jump around her.

“Oh, I know, I get startled sometimes and she’s only eight months old,” she let the girl in not before giving the house across the street a nervous look.

“Char and my brothers went out,” Olivia nodded and thanked her quietly for the information, “I was bored so I thought you’d want to hang out.”

“Oh, sure,” she smiled at Charlie’s sister and felt guilty for all those times she said no whenever Meghan invited her over to hang out like they used to do, “I wanted to go to the farm and pick some fresh berries. I don’t know if you wanna go with me.”

“I don’t know,” Meghan scrunched her nose, and the gesture reminded the older girl of Charlie. If she didn’t grow up with them, she could’ve thought they were twins, “I’ll go only if you make me muffins.”

“That’s unfair,” Olivia said playfully, “I’m gonna change and we can head out.”

“I’m gonna stay right here so I can play with this cute baby,” Meghan cooed the dog and sat on the floor to play with her.

Running back into her room, she changed into some overalls and a top. She wanted to be comfortable on the farm and be able to move around without worrying about her skirt getting caught in the branches.

“I swear you and my brother are the only people I know that love wearing overalls,” Olivia’s cheeks blushed at her words, remembering very well how often Charlie used to come over wearing overalls and no shirt underneath.

“They’re comfy,” she said looking at her outfit with slight embarrassment.

“You look great, Liv.” Her eyes darted back at Meghan and decided not to make a big deal about the nickname.

“Your car or mine?” she questioned, picking up the keys and her bag.

“Yours, I don’t feel like driving.”

When Charlie landed his first role, he would spend a lot of time out of town filming, and eventually, both girls became closer. She could never compare her friendship with Meghan with the one she once had with Charlie because they were inseparable, they spent so much time together she was sure she had her first period when they were playing over at his house and both freaked out because they didn’t know what to do. Later that day he came over to her house with a chocolate bar and a single flower.

“My mom said you’d probably want some chocolate, so I got you your favourite.” She remembered the eleven years old Charlie said with his cheeks burning red.

She sighed at the memory, realizing how even such an important milestone in her life somehow involved the boy that was messing with her head lately.

“So…,” Meghan started once they both were on the road, “Charlie almost threw a tantrum because none told him you had a bakery.”

Olivia chuckled just imagining Charlie pouting with his arms crossed over his chest, “he never asked you guys.”

“It’s not that he didn’t ask about you,” She bit the inside of her cheek getting a little bit uncomfortable with the conversation, “I guess we all decided not to tell him about your life like he didn’t really deserve updates about you.”

“I get it,” stopping the car at a red light, she smiled at the girl sitting next to her, “I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with questions about me because if he wanted to know something, he should’ve asked me himself.”

Not like she’d have answered his calls or texts because she didn’t know if she would have. She thought she might have answered if he had reached out for her, but he never did.

Hanging out with Meghan was like breathing fresh air, both girls laughing and messing around while they picked fresh blueberries, their fingers getting tinted with the fruit’s juice. Snapping the last picture with their blueberries, they went back home.

“Can I post this one?” Meghan asked, showing her the picture where a smiling Olivia was holding a single blueberry in front of the camera while Meghan stuck her tongue out.

“Sure, I like it. Send me the others so I can post one too,” she commented, looking at the picture quickly before turning her attention back to the road ahead.

Once they got back home, Meghan took place in one of the stools in the kitchen, while Olivia got everything she needed to bake. She was about to start the mixer when her friend got a text and cursed under her breath.

“Everything alright?” she wondered with a raised eyebrow, confused at her friend’s reaction.

“I have to teach a dance class and I completely forgot about it,” with an apology written all over her face, she stood up and gathered her stuff, “I’m sorry, Liv, but I need to go or I’m gonna have a bunch of angry moms complaining about my absence.”

“Yeah, sure. Go don’t worry,” Olivia assured her with a chuckle, “I’ll take these babies to your house once they’re ready.”

“You’re the best. Thank you!” Meghan stated before running back to her own house.

Deciding it was better to put on some music while she baked, she went to connect her phone to the Bluetooth speaker when the back door opened, and Charlie waved at her with a shy expression on his face.

“Meg said you could use some help with the muffins.”

“Uhm…” Olivia frowned her brows slightly, knowing this was Charlie trying to apologize and make things better, “just put on some music,” she handed him the speaker and started the mixer.

She wasn’t sure how she felt with him sitting on the stool his sister was on just a few minutes ago, but the burning anger she felt the first day she saw him was missing. But they were far from being friends again, she told herself.

“How was your hike?” The words left her mouth quietly as an attempt to make small conversation and feel a little less observed by him.

“It was great, we got a bunch of nice pictures,” and there it was, she smiled to herself when she heard the excitement in Charlie’s voice, “we had to come back earlier because Pat’s bike got a flat tire, but it was fun.”

“So, you guys went cycling,” she stated the obvious just to make him talk about his little trip. God, she missed the way Charlie used to tell her about his day and how excited he was about little things, the same excitement he had now as he told her about the perfect spot that he found to take pictures and how he promised to a couple that he would send the cute picture he took of them as soon as he could.

Charlie used to remind her of a puppy, filled with excitement and energy and she let out a chuckle when she realised he was just like he was when they were teenagers.

“Did I miss my own joke?” he questioned, tilting his head with amusement.

Olivia shrugged, without bothering to look at him, too busy with her task, and said, “you’re just like a puppy, Charlie.”

“You used to tell me that a lot back then,” he pondered biting his lower lip, the energy in the room shifting at the mention of the friendship they used to have.

“I know.”

She didn’t know what else to say because she didn’t know how she felt about their interaction. Or the fact that Charlie was sitting there, just a few feet away from her just like they used to be when they were younger. Him watching and telling her stories while she busied herself with a new recipe.

“I’m glad one of us actually became a chef,” Charlie spoke again, breaking the silence. The girl didn’t respond, she poured the mix into the muffin cups not letting his words disrupt her. Once the tray was in the oven, she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the nostalgia wash away and the resentment took its place.

“Some of us stick to what we said, Charles.” The bitterness in her voice made the boy close his eyes, knowing very well the course this conversation was about to take.

“How many times do I have to apologize, Olivia?” She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief.

“You haven't said sorry not even once, Charlie.” Sure he said sorry for getting into her backyard without permission and invading her space the past two days, but he never apologized for the shitty move he did four years ago.

“You don’t even let me talk!” He argued back.

“Oh, come on, Charlie!” Olivia rolled her eyes and pointed a finger at him, “don’t start with that bullshit because you had a whole week to apologize for leaving me on my own when you said you’d walk me home, but you chose to stay quiet and then leave the town without even saying goodbye.”

“Shit, Liv,” he whispered when he saw her eyes welling up with tears, “please don’t cry.”

“Do you even realize how bad I felt when you left without saying goodbye?” she questioned drying her cheeks with the back of her hand, “I saw you get in that car with all your belongings and I waited for you to come and say goodbye, to text me or call me but you just left and now you come here as if nothing happened.”

“Liv, I’m sorry,” he told her, standing up so he could get closer to the girl that was facing him with hurt in her eyes, fighting to hold back the tears from falling. “You need to believe when I tell you I’m fucking sorry for doing that.”

She jerked away from him when he tried to hold her. “Thanks for the apology,” Olivia inhaled deeply, the scent of Charlie’s cologne too intoxicating now that she was trying not to fall apart in front of him.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he mumbled, understanding she probably needed some space.

“I’ll take the muffins to your place once they’re done.”

Charlie stood there, right in front of the girl that once was his partner in crime, but now they were practically strangers to each other and that was all his fault. He wished he could hold Olivia in his arms and tell her over and over again how deeply sorry he was for being such a coward, for leaving her without an explanation. He just wanted to take away all the pain he already caused her and somehow still manage to hurt her again. With a heavy sigh, the boy turned around and headed back to his house.

She sat in one of the stools, trying to calm her heart down and process whatever just happened. Charlie apologized but the annoying feeling that she needed more than just an apology didn’t leave her chest. An explanation would be good, maybe that way she would be able to actually forgive him and understand why he did it because right now, she didn’t really see them being friends again. Not when she was still holding a grudge against him.

Standing outside Charlie’s front door, with a tray full of freshly baked muffins in her hands, Olivia decided to go through the side door. She was met with nothing but silence while she made her way into the kitchen and saw a figure sitting with a guitar near the river through the window. Unlike her house, Charlie’s backyard was next to the river and the woods, where she remembered playing hide and seek with Charlie and Meghan when they were little.

She left the tray on the kitchen counter and headed to where Charlie was sitting. It was weird walking around his house, after all, she avoided the Gillespie family as much as she could when Charlie left and kept their interaction to a minimum, and hadn’t been inside in a long time.

“Hey,” she said softly, taking place next to him, “I brought the muffins.”

“Thanks, Liv,” he gave her a small smile before he continued playing a soft melody on his guitar.

“I still don’t understand why you did it,” Olivia managed to say after a few minutes of sitting together in complete silence.

“I didn’t want to, it just happened and then I fucked up things even more by not saying goodbye,” he explained and looked at her, “I thought I could just sneak out with Quinn because your house wasn’t far, I mean we were right here that day, and I wasn’t really thinking.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me that week before you left.”

He placed the guitar by his side, turning around to give Olivia his full attention, she looked at him with a mix of sadness and shyness in her brown eyes.

“When I left with Quinn we were going to her place and hook up, I’m sure you know that, but we didn’t ‘cause I called her Liv right before we did anything,” her cheeks blushed at his confession but unable to believe his words entirely, “that’s why we broke up soon after my birthday, and I was so fucking embarrassed about my feelings…”

“You were embarrassed because you liked me, way to go, Charlie,” she interrupted him slightly offended.

“I didn’t say that, let me finish,” He demanded getting frustrated with the conversation, “I was embarrassed because I called her your name because I was thinking of you in a moment I shouldn’t have,” he paused unsure of how Olivia was going to react at his next word, “that’s when I realised my feelings for you were a lot stronger than I thought and I got scared because I knew I was leaving.”

“Charlie,” she told him, confusion laced in her voice “did you even like Quinn?”

“No, not really. I kinda forced myself to be with her ‘cause I didn’t want to ruin our friendship” Charlie answered and then let out a sad laugh, “I guess it didn’t work out as good as I thought.”

“You know I liked you, right?” her voice was barely a whisper and her stomach fluttered when she saw him smile at her and nodded in response, “was I that obvious really?” When Charlie nodded again she covered her face with her hands in pure embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry, Liv,” he apologized again, and she rested her head on his shoulder, “if I could take all that back I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I guess I understand now,” Charlie could hear the soft smile even if he wasn’t seeing her face, “don’t get me wrong, it hurt like shit to see how you moved on as if I didn’t exist, but I get that you were scared and we both ended up messing up our friendship.”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to be friends again?” Olivia turned around, meeting his gaze and sighed.

“Maybe?” she answered, scrunching her nose unsure of it.

They stayed like that for a while, Charlie’s gaze moving from her eyes to her lips from time to time, debating if he should just go for it or not. It was her that took the initiative and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that, just like the apology, was long overdue.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, leaving the shyness behind and cupping her face between his hands pulling her closer as if that way they could make up all the time they spent apart.

They both pulled away when they heard his older brother hollering at them from the balcony and Olivia laughed when Charlie flipped him the middle finger. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

Of course, they still needed to talk a lot and find a way to work things out now that their feelings were out on display. But she had a good feeling about giving them a new shot, because, after all those years, they still managed to find their way back to each other.

#charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp cast imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson x reader #jatp imagine

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diegos-butt · 4 years ago

Text

Electricity Chapter 3

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (Curvy OFC)

Warnings: mention of murder and dark alleys 👀

Wordcount: 3.4k

A/N: I love every single one of you who read this. This might be my fav chapter so far.. let me know what ya think ✌🏼

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

•••

In the days after I met Walter Marshall at the bar, he was suddenly everywhere. On Monday, I had to make a quick stop at the pharmacy, and he did too. On Tuesday, Gia and I went to the nearest coffee shop to grab coffee for our department, and guess what? He was there too with his colleague Liam. It doesn’t end there; on Thursday I went to get some take-out from the Greek restaurant near my house. While I parked my car, he drove away. You’d think we would have spoken to each other one of these times, but we didn’t.

Every time something happened to prevent that. It was suddenly my turn at the pharmacy as we were about to talk. Once I was done, he had left. At the coffee shop it was the other way around. Me and Gia just got our order when he walked in with Liam. I was about to say hi when the barista called them to take their order. Since Gia and I only had 5 minutes of our break left, we had to go back. The last time I saw him, we were both in our cars, making it unable to have a conversation. He did wave though. But honestly, I wanted more. I wanted to have a decent conversation with him.

“You know, you can just go over to the police station and see if he’s there,” Carmen said. It was Friday and more and more people were slowing leaving the office. It had been a long week. There had been two murders, and the murderer had not been caught yet. “Just ask if they got a lead.”

We had been covering these murders for the entire week. Unfortunately, the murderer knew what he was doing because he barely left any evidence. The detectives still had no idea who he could be or what his motive was.

“We could use some more information for our articles,” Gia agreed with her. “I think you should go too.” She and Carmen exchanged a look that meant no good.

“You guys are not going to force me to go down there. If I go there, one of you is coming with me.”

Before they could answer the phone rang. Carmen picked up, nodded a few times and before she hung up, she said: “we will check it out.”

“What was that about?” I asked, but I already knew something was wrong.

“They found another body in an alley across town. Stacy wants us to go there to see if we can get some information,” she said while standing up and putting on her jacket.

“I’ll come with you.” I stood up and grabbed my jacket as well.

“Be careful and call me when you guys are back home! I’m going to finish writing this article and then head home.” Gia said.

“We will. I’ll drive Mel,” Carmen nodded and waved with her car keys.

We stepped out of the car and we saw the crime scene was marked with yellow tape that had ‘do not cross’ on it. The alley was dark and empty except for a few dumpsters. I haven’t been in this city for long, but the few times I drove through this neighbourhood, it didn’t really feel safe.

The thought of being murdered here made me shiver. The murderer dumped her body in a dumpster in the middle of the night and just left her there. I looked around and couldn’t see security cameras. This murderer definitely thought this through.

Carmen and I walked towards a few people that were gathering in front of the alley. The police had arrived long before us, and I recognized a detective from that night in a bar. As we got closer, I spotted another detective whom I recognized immediately. Walter crossed his arms and talked to the other detective.

“Look who is here Mel,” Carmen poked my side. “Talk to him, see if you can figure something out. Like his phone number.” She winked and walked away to talk to some bystanders.

Fuck you Carmen. I walked towards the tape, and at the same time Walter turned around and looked at me. I stared into his blue eyes and yet again I felt a shot of electricity going through my spine. Why does he have this effect on me? I wondered and realized I had stopped walking and were glued to the street. I shook my head and start walking again.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once I was near him.

“Doing my job?” I said surprised. “You are aware I am a crime journalist, right?”

He lifted his eyebrow and sighed. “You shouldn’t be here. We haven’t caught the murderer yet, so it is not safe here,” he stated and wanted to walk away but turned back to me. “Also, I’m well aware you are a journalist. Your friends made that very clear.”

He gave me a small smile and walked away. I was caught a little of guard and looked after him surprised.

“Hey, wait!” I yelled. “I need to ask you some questions!”

He obviously sighed and dropped his head, but stopped walking. I quickly walked towards him and grabbed my notebook and pen out of my bag.

“First of all, are there any leads on the murderer yet? Do you guys have a suspect?” I started asking. “Do you think he murdered those other girls earlier this week?”

“No, no and yes,” he answered.

“Anything else you would like to share than yes or no detective Marshall?” I raised my eyebrow and looked at him. To say he looked irritated, was an understatement.

“No further comment, this is all you’re getting,” he responded while avoiding eye contact.

“Seriously?” I looked at him with puppy eyes.

“Look, we are busy with our investigation. I can’t tell you anything right now. Besides, you shouldn’t even be here. Just go home and let us do our jobs. Okay miss?” he replied while looking at me again. He did look annoyed though. Oh boy, why does he look so good when he’s annoyed? That’s just not fair.

I simply nodded. “It’s miss Williams, Melody Williams by the way.” I fiddled with the notepad and pen in my hand.

“Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going to do my job Miss Williams,” he grinned. He did look less annoyed than a second ago.

As he walked away, I watched his perfectly sculpted ass and thighs. Damn, he is so fine. I looked around to see where Carmen was and spotted her next to some bystanders. She looked at me and signalled that she would be done soon. I looked around and noticed how empty the street was. Just a few sketchy looking apartment buildings, but no stores or anything.

“So, did you get anything from him?” Carmen said as she showed up next to me. “It’s creepy here or is it just me?”

“No, he didn’t give me anything useful and yes, it’s really creepy here. Something is not right,” I said and looked into the alley.

“Really? Not even his phone number? I am greatly disappointed in you.” Carmen looked at me in shock before she laughed. “No, seriously, did he say nothing?”

“He looked pretty annoyed honestly,” I said a little disappointed. “Did the bystanders see anything?”

“No one saw of heard anything suspicious,” Carmen answered.

“Well, the police does suspect the one who did this, also committed the other murders this week.”

“Hmm, but why here? He somehow must have lured that poor girl here. How? Someone must have heard something in that case. I don’t think she would have come willingly into this alley,” Carmen thought out loud. “Wait, someone did hear a car in the middle of the night. It came by, stopped, and drove off not long after.”

“That probably has something to do with this,” I replied. “It is the perfect place to dump something. Empty street, no stores, not many people outside.”

“Sure thing. Also, it creeps me out that there are so many empty buildings here. Overall, there are way too many empty buildings in this town.” She shivered and we noticed the few bystanders who were still there leave. “We should go too. I don’t want to be here for another minute.”

During the weekend I couldn’t stop thinking about the murders that happened that week. It creeped me out that the murderer was still out there. I went over all the details known to the public to see if I could find a connection. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, I couldn’t.

On Monday I discussed the murders with Gia and Carmen. They also had no other insights and we decided to let it go for the day. We were going to wait until the police would release a statement or more information.

The rest of the day went by quickly. Once I got home I felt restless. I didn’t want to sit around and wait. I wanted to help. It sounded stupid, how on earth could a simple journalist like me help the best detectives in town solve a case?

I finished doing the dishes and looked outside. It was 8pm and it was dark outside. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had made another victim. Fuck it, I’m just going down to the police station and see if Walter is there. Maybe I can help somehow.

Before I could change my mind and realize this was the most stupid thing to do, I stepped in my car and drove to the police station. After a 15-minute drive I parked my car in the parking lot in front of the police station. I hesitated to go out for a second. But what if I can help?

I stepped out and walked, no rushed, inside. It was surprisingly empty in the entrance. I noticed the elevators to my right and remembered Gia and Carmen told me that the detectives were on the sixth floor. Suddenly the elevator door opened, I smiled at the guy who came out and stepped inside. Quickly, I pressed the button with 6 on it and the doors closed. Surprisingly easy to get inside a police station but okay.

Once the elevator reached the sixth floor, and the doors opened I noticed how quiet it was. Uncertain I walked further into the hallway, until I heard someone sigh heavily. It sounded like a familiar sigh and I decided to see where it came from.

A light flickered above me. Shit, I still need to watch the last episode of stranger things. I heard someone sigh again, and I noticed it came from a door just a few feet away from me. I looked towards it and saw it was slightly ajar.

Closing the gap between me and the door, I looked inside. Walter sat at the desk, he leaned forward on his elbows, papers spread across underneath. The computer buzzed lightly.

It felt a little creepy, spying on him like this. I wanted to let him know I was there, but as I want to knock on the door, I bumped my elbow against the door.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Very smooth Mel, very smooth.

“What are you doing here?” He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at me. “And how did you get up here?”

“I wanted to know if there were new developments around the murders. And I got up here surprisingly easy I must say. I basically just walked inside and took the elevator.” I shrugged my shoulders and walked inside his office while taking off my jacket.

“Do you think I’d still be here if we had a breakthrough?” The look in his eyes softened as he yawned.

I looked around his office and my gaze fell on the computer. There were three different profiles from girls on display.

“Are those the girls who got murdered?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you are not supposed to see any of this,” he said with a stern look in his eyes.

“What are you going to do? Stop me? I’d like to see you try,” I said as I walked around the desk and stood next to him. A recognizable scent hung around him. He wore that same musky cologne as the day I met him at the supermarket. I almost closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Focus Mel, now is not the time to fangirl over this man.

As I stood next to him, I couldn’t help but notice how broad he was. He could easily pick me up and toss me around. Oh god, don’t picture that right now or you will not be able to speak ever again.

My gaze shifted from his chest to his face and I saw his blue eyes staring at me. I quickly looked at the screen and started reading the profiles. I stood there a little uncomfortable and looked around for a chair.

“Why don’t you have another chair here? I really have to stand?” I asked once I noticed he had no other chair in his office.

“No chair, no place to sit. Makes people leave faster.” He simply stated and shrugged his shoulders.

Next thing I knew I felt his hand on my hip, and he guided me down to sit on the armrest of his chair. It caught me off guard and I yelped a little.

“You wanted to sit right?” he said while his hand stayed on my hip. I felt the heat coming from it spread throughout my body. He was so close, and it became hard to focus on the screen. I felt his hot breath on my arm, giving me goosebumps. I regained my focus on the screen and noticed they all had last used a dating app.

“This is probably a dumb question, but have you checked the dating profiles of the girls? The last guy they met with has most likely something to do with this.”

“I am a little insulted by this question,” he said with a grin while putting his hand on his heart. His other hand remained on my hip, I felt his fingers dig into my soft skin. “We did obviously, but the last guy they chatted with used fake pictures and we can’t track him.”

“What about the conversations? Nothing suspicious there?” I asked and shimmied a little on the armrest, trying to get up as I started to feel awkward.

“Stay still, and no. The girls were found nowhere near where he wanted to meet them. And there is no connection between any of the places,” he said. “Wait, just read for yourself.”

Before I could comprehend what was happening, he turned around with chair and all to grab some papers from the cupboard behind him. Once he turned back, I was no longer on the armrest but sitting on his lap.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. My behind actually fitted perfect on his lap much to my surprise. “I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly and tried to squirm away.

“Stay,” he simply ordered, and acted like nothing happened.

“I don’t want to hurt-,” I spoke softly before he interrupted me.

“What are you talking about? I said stay.” His fingers dug a little deeper into my skin and I felt my cheeks burning. “Here are the messages between the girls and the guy there were going to meet. Maybe you see something we missed.”

I tried to focus, but feeling his strong chest pressed against my back made that pretty hard. I could smell his cologne even better now. One of his brown curls brushed against my shoulder and I had to fight the urge to not turn around to push it behind his ear.

I focussed on the papers in front of me. I read the messages, around us a comfortable silence. Only the sound of our breaths filled the room.

“You said they were found nowhere near where they were supposed to meet him?” I asked. He nodded in response. “Hang on, this girl was meeting him near my place. He said there’s a new restaurant that just opened, but I am pretty sure there’s nothing there. There are so many empty buildings in that street.”

“You sure? Someone googled it and saw it opened a few days ago,” he said.

“Absolutely. I drove through that street to get here, and there is no restaurant.”

He leaned forward, pressing his chest against me even more. I tensed for a moment. He felt warm, like he’d never get cold. I decided to just enjoy sitting like this with him, since it might never happen again.

He started typing the address into google with one hand. The other hand still remained on my hip. The website for the restaurant popped up and I immediately saw it was fake.

“Well, this is clearly fake,” I chuckled. “Look at the pictures, that is somewhere else. The sunlight does not match the sunlight we have here. Plus, that place is near a lake. Have you seen a lake in this city?”

He looks at me with his eyes wide open. “How can you- never mind. What about the other places?”

As he looked at me, I became aware of how close his face was. I quickly averted my gaze and googled the other places he was supposed to meet the girls. We instantly concluded that they also used a fake website.

“So, what’s next detective?” I asked and look at the clock. It was just past 9.30 pm. Probably too late to do anything right now.

He ran his fingers through his curls and sighed. “I, am going to discuss this with my colleagues tomorrow,” he said with the emphasis on I. “We are probably going to set up some dating accounts on that app. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure that out.”

“Well, if you need help with that you know where to find me,” I smiled. I suddenly felt really tired and realized I hadn’t been sleeping very well lately. I let out a yawn, and he copied me.

“You’re tired. You should go home,” he said after he finished yawning.

“I will go home if you do the same.” I stood up and felt his hand slide away from my hip. I missed the warmth that came from his body immediately.

“Alright, fine,” he groaned. He got up and grabbed his stuff. He walked around his desk and picked up my jacket and held it open for me. I walked towards him and let him help me put it on. His hands rested on my shoulders and I felt his hot breath in my neck. I felt a spark going down my spine and I nearly choke on air.

Focus, now is not the time to faint.

“I should, uh, I should get going,” I stammered. I grabbed my bag and walked out of the door. I looked back at him and I see his eyes quickly moving up. Was he looking at my butt?

He followed me out of his office and together we stepped into the elevator. It slides down smoothly as we stood next to each other in silence. Our hands brushed against each other briefly before the doors opened. We stepped out of the elevator and he waved goodnight to the security guard as we walked outside. That security guard wasn’t there when I got here. Probably the reason I got in so easily.

My car was the only one left in the parking lot. It stood lonely underneath a lamppost.

“Where did you park?” I asked.

“Other side of the building, employees only,” he said. “But I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” I started to protest.

“I’ll walk with you. End of discussion,” he stated sternly. We walked towards my car in silence until I realized I had to ask him a question.

“What’s your phone number?”

He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.

“What if I find another piece of information? I’d like to reach you if so,” I said and feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Right,” he smirked. “I would have given it to you either way.”

After we exchange phone numbers I looked into his eyes. He is just a few inches taller, yet it felt like he towered over me. I felt like I was drowning in the bright blue. But then I let out another yawn and the moment was over.

“You’re tired, go home,” he chuckled. I nodded and unlocked my car. He opened the door and I got in and started the car.

“See you around?” I asked.

“I’ll make sure of that,” he answered. I smiled and he closed my door. I drove away, and waved at him one more time. I can’t wait to see you again.

•••

> chapter four

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

Text

[CN] S2 Gavin - The Broadcast Countdown Project

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a company project which has not been released in EN!🍒

This post features S2 Gavin, but contains no spoilers regarding S2!

[ This was released on 13 May 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

Things happened so suddenly. Even till now, I’m in a confused trance.

The ratings of “Inquiries”, a news documentary program I produced in collaboration with Loveland TV, has been rising continuously. Whenever an episode is broadcasted, I’d make a trip to the TV station.

Just like always, I head out of the company and take a taxi, telling the driver the address of the TV station.

But now, I’m sitting in the meeting room of the TV station, and can only remember that I had stepped out of the door. Whatever happened after I boarded the car is a total blank.

The surveillance footage at the entrance of the TV station clearly records how I got off the taxi, how I had taken an envelope from a stranger, and how I walked into the building.

Security Guard: But you don’t remember this happening?

MC: ...I have no impression of this at all. When I came to my senses, I was at the 18th floor. It’s strange because I didn’t know why I went to the 18th floor in the first place.

The broadcasting studio is on the second floor, and I’d normally take the stairs.

Security Guard: That’s so strange. You lost your memory for five minutes for no apparent reason?

I think to myself: It isn’t that strange. I might have bumped into an Evolver who can alter someone’s consciousness or memories.

MC: What’s in the envelope?

Program Director: Yes yes, let’s open the envelope and take a look first!

There’s a USB flash drive and a slip of paper inside the envelope.

Out of curiosity, I stick the USB flash drive into my laptop. There’s a video clip in it.

Clicking the video clip, both the the security guard and program director exclaim loudly in shock -

Two people are tied to chairs, and their eyes have been pixelated. There’s a banner strung on the wall behind them: A debt of blood must be paid in blood.

The slip of paper states that Loveland TV has to broadcast this video clip during “Inquiries” this evening. Otherwise, it will face the consequences.

Program Director: What in the world is this - a kidnapping?

MC: ...yes, and the suspect is very likely an Evolver.

At this moment, I feel incredibly tense - I actually received something from a kidnapper but didn’t notice any details.

How frustrating - I lost the lead of a crucial moment!

MC: This isn’t something we can handle. We need to get the STF involved.

The program director looks at me, makes a prompt decision, and nods.

Less than half an hour later, Gavin brings his men over. After understanding the situation, he first gives me a sweeping glance, then suggests that he takes the video clip.

Gavin: Please give me the video clip. We’ll compare it against the database.

I quickly hand the USB flash drive to him, along with the envelope and slip of paper.

While the STF members are gathering evidence, I walk up to Gavin.

MC: Gavin... does the STF have any special methods of enabling someone to recall erased memories? Any method is fine.

Faced with my sudden determination, Gavin expresses an unexpected calmness and composure.

Gavin: No.

MC: But I’m the only person who saw the suspect... As long as I can recall some details, even a little, it’d be a huge breakthrough for the case.

Based on my understanding of such Evol, the probability of recollection isn’t high. But if it’s the STF...

Gavin pats the shoulder of his teammate, indicating that he should continue. Then, he turns around and walks towards the corridor.

Gavin: Come with me.

[ Chapter Two ]

Gavin brings me to an empty meeting room.

My mind is muddled, and I stare at him for a long time without saying anything. He isn’t anxious, and simply waits for me.

Getting impatient from the wait, I pace around the meeting room.

MC: But my memories are really important.

All that flashes across my mind are the two people whose hands and feet were bound in the video clip.

MC: If...

Gavin raises his volume, interrupting me.

Gavin: You don’t have to shoulder any burdens.

After a short silence, his expression turns slightly warmer.

Gavin: You're just an ordinary citizen who was roped into the case by force. You’ve already provided all the information related to the case. Leave the rest of the work to us. Your memories are very important, but STF has its own way of handling things.

He pauses, softening his tone, as though wanting to comfort me.

Gavin: Cases involving Evolvers are always more problematic than ordinary crimes. I run into such situations often, so you don’t need to worry...

He seems to deliberate considerably before continuing.

Gavin: At the very least, I’m confident in this case.

Seeing that I’ve lifted my head to look at him, he walks over to me.

Gavin: I’ve watched two episodes of your program. The subject is very new and original.

Gavin: The online reviews said that this world doesn’t always exist in black-or-white. There’s also a middle ground worth reflecting on.

Gavin: Generally speaking, this program is about making progress, which is why I’ve been thinking since earlier that the suspect specially chose to send you the letter.

Gavin: If it were me, I’d definitely ensure that such an important letter was handed to someone in the program team. That way, it’d be played easily.

Gavin: You came to the TV station at 4pm, long after usual reporting hours. You weren’t wearing a name tag, so it’d have been difficult to tell if you were a staff member from the TV station.

Gavin: ...so how would he have known that he found the right person?

Gavin: Also, he mentioned in the note that it was to be played during your show. This wouldn’t have been a coincidence.

Gavin: He was probably here for quite some time, waiting for you to appear.

MC: Waiting for me to appear?

Gavin nods, speaking softly.

Gavin: He might be a viewer of your program.

Startled, I give this some thought. It’s indeed a possibility.

“Inquiries” is a very complex documentary.

What it depicts are stories of “criminals” who “had no choice” but to commit crimes.

The so-called “inquiries” are questions targeted to the law, morality, and the public, on whether they are guilty.

If the suspect was deliberately waiting for me, he might have had something to say.

While I’m pondering over this, Gavin’s communication device sounds.

Gavin: They’re done with the investigation. There’s a discovery.

After saying this, he pushes the door open and steps out. I follow after him immediately, returning to the middle of the STF members.

Lu Yi: Captain Gavin, the pixelations can’t be reverted to their original state. We’ve done a comparison against the database, and have located 3287 people. This number is too large.

Gavin: Under immense psychological stress, these two people remained tightly pressed together... they could be husband and wife.

Lu Yi: In the category of married people, there are... 289 people.

Gavin stares at the video clip for a few seconds, enlarging one of their hands. Frowning, he turns to ask me a question.

Gavin: What kind of a ring is this?

MC: It isn’t a ring. it’s a thimble. People in the needlework business wear this.

Lu Yi: Okay, I’ll narrow the search to those in the needlework or clothing business.

I recall what Gavin said to me in the meeting room, and have an inexplicable gut feeling.

MC: You could also search for individuals who are either directly or indirectly related to someone who committed a crime, or involved in a criminal suit.

Gavin nods at the STF member.

Names continuously roll on the monitor, finally pausing at two names.

Gavin: Found them.

[ Chapter Three ]

The investigation continues. After identifying the two people, Lu Yi finds substantial information related to this husband and wife duo through their network.

Lu Yi: Their neighbours mentioned that they haven’t seen the husband and wife for several days, and thought they had gone on a vacation.

Gavin: When was the last time they were seen?

Lu Yi: Saturday, five days ago. The boss of the neighbourhood supermarket said that on Saturday evening, the husband and wife visited his shop and bought quite a number of items.

Gavin ponders on this, then continues to probe in a methodical manner.

Gavin: What case was their relative involved in?

Another team member who has been searching for information in front of the laptop walks over, handing the tablet laptop to Gavin.

Team member: Captain Gavin, here’s information on the case. It’s just an ordinary traffic incident, not an Evolver crime.

Slightly curious, I can’t help but lean over a little. Gavin doesn’t have any intention of concealing anything, and he leaves me an opening.

MC: A traffic light accident... I know this case. It caused a huge uproar back then, and news related to this kept appearing on TV.

Gavin: I have an impression of it too.

This was a case which faced endless controversy. A traffic light at an intersection had a malfunction. The yellow light didn’t flash, and turned red immediately.

A car which wanted to speed past the yellow light crashed into a pedestrian who had just stepped onto the road, resulting in the victim’s death.

Gavin: The person who caused this traffic incident was the son of this couple.

Team member: The controversy on how the sentence should be determined for this case dragged on for a very long time.

MC: I remember how the driver’s lawyer asked quite a number of journalists to report on this matter. They asserted that the main responsibility lay with the malfunctioning traffic light. They said that if the traffic light had turned yellow, the additional three seconds would have prevented the incident from occurring.

Gavin continues to browse through the case.

Gavin: The case concluded with the driver’s sentence reduced to one year, and the transport department was responsible for half of the monetary compensation.

MC: One year?

Even though I know that the judgement of every case is underpinned firmly by law, based on my subjective point of view...

When measuring a sentence of one year against a human life, it does seem pretty light.

MC: The person who kidnapped the husband and wife should be someone who bears grudges because of this incident. Back then, it’s precisely because of the media’s involvement that the sentence became lighter... Aside from taking revenge on the driver, he wants to use the broadcast to take revenge on the government of Loveland City.

With a slight lift of Gavin’s head, the STF member catches his drift, walking up to the tablet laptop and tapping it a few times.

Lu Yi: This is information pertaining to the victim from the traffic incident.

Gavin: Xu Wen. Female, 26 years old, unmarried, and a nurse. Her parents are retired teachers. After the incident, they moved to the countryside to live out their life in retirement.

Team mate: I just spoke to the countryside committee of the elderly couple. They rarely host relatives and friends. They haven’t met anyone recently, nor did they leave their house.

Gavin: Did the victim have a boyfriend?

Gavin’s inquiry tugs at my memories. I vaguely recall that when I read the reports from back then, one of the featured articles was about a ring which rolled onto the zebra crossing...

Afterwards, the news headlines showcased the image from this featured article, which drew more grief from people.

MC: She seemed to be wearing a ring when the incident happened. She might have been engaged or had a fiancé, just that it wasn’t registered?

Gavin returns the tablet laptop to his team member.

Gavin: Investigate her fiancé.

[ Chapter Four ]

Although the seconds and minute trickle past, there isn’t a shred of anxiety on Gavin’s face.

The director pulls me to a corner subtly, showing me a message that the higher ups from the TV station just sent him. On it, there’s a phone record approximating half an hour.

Program Director: The STF definitely can’t save them before the broadcast. We have to play the video clip... When lives are involved, we definitely can’t infuriate the kidnapper!

Seeing that he’s stammering from worry, I hurriedly pat him on the shoulder, comforting him with a softened voice.

MC: No matter how frantic we are, we can’t be of help. Leave it to the STF.

The director hastily stretches out his arm, showing me his watch.

Program Director: There’s only an hour left! The host is already in the make-up room, and I have to tell her about this later.

While speaking, he grabs at his hair, sighing as he glances at the STF members.

Program Director: I never faced such an incident when I was a reporter. Those people have to be rescued...

He mumbles, then continues to harp on the matter.

Program Director: I wonder what exactly the kidnapper wants.

The entire broadcasting studio is extremely quiet, a change from the typical lively atmosphere.

Thinking about how the broadcast is approaching soon, I start to get a little impatient.

I glance at Gavin from my peripheral vision a few times, wanting to read something from his calm expression...

Gavin clearly notices my overly frequent line of sight. He straightens up, then gives me a wave. I hurriedly walk over.

Gavin: There’s only an hour left to the broadcast. I’ll leave you with a professional negotiator. Get ready.

MC: What?

Gavin: My goal is to resolve this matter before the broadcast. But I still need a Plan B. The kidnapper will definitely watch the program. Also, he knows that you’re the producer of this program, which is why he handed the envelope to you. Your presence will make it easier to persuade him.

Gavin calls out to one of his team members, and the latter comes over.

Gavin: Xiao He, draft a script meant for communicating with the kidnapper, then give it to this producer.

The professional negotiator responds immediately, returning to his position and throwing himself into the work.

MC: ...but I might not be able to do it.

Gavin: You can definitely do it.

While speaking, his eyes remain fixed on the laptop which is currently searching for data. Not long after, he suddenly lifts his head and gives me a slight smile.

Gavin: Don’t underestimate yourself. Also, this is just my Plan B. There’s still an hour, and there’s sufficient time.

This is the first time I’m seeing him smile since he walked through the door. My instincts tell me that he doesn’t need a Plan B.

Gavin: We’ve found the fiancé of the victim from the traffic accident.

I stand in front of the laptop, staring at the photograph on the monitor.

It’s an ID photo. He has a crew cut and is wearing a white shirt along with a black suit. It seems to be a job ID photo for a bank.

I’m suddenly in a monetary trance, and hazy images flash across my mind. But that’s it, and there’s no concrete information.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

When Gavin sees my tightly knit brows, he places a hand on my back.

MC: ...it might be him. Even though I can’t recall anything, my memory remembers him.

[Note] CRYING BECAUSE THE ONLY TIME HE LOSES HIS COMPOSURE IS WHEN HE’S WORRIED ABOUT MC

[ Chapter Five ]

Simply locating the suspect isn't enough. We need to find where he’s keeping the husband and wife.

But Gavin remains confident. He pulls a chair over for me sit, indicating that there’s nothing I should be worried about.

Gavin: Check if there’s property under his name.

Team member: Two residences. One is used as a shop for commercial purposes.

Gavin: Take another look at the video clip.

The STF member does as instructed, and two monitors display the suspect’s information and the video clip in the USB flash drive respectively.

Gavin: Floor plans.

Without the need for further elaboration, three floor plans are displayed on the laptop, corresponding with the three properties belonging to the suspect.

Team member: Captain Gavin, the attributes of the video clip show that it was taken at 4pm on the 23rd.

Gavin: How was the weather on the 23rd?

Team member: A clear day. You even told me to run 3000 metres as punishment. I ran while braving the sun.

After saying this, the surrounding STF members can’t help but laugh. The atmosphere suddenly relaxes - they’re very close to reaching the breakthrough.

Gavin: A clear day, 4pm...

The STF team member adjusts the brightness level of the video clip, locating the direction of the light source.

Gavin stares at the floor plans and light source in the video clip, then points at the first floor plan.

Gavin: Where’s this house?

Team member: Pavilion Village on Ancient Street in the old city district. Captain Gavin, if we look at this video clip, the shop happens to have a partitioned-off area, and the window matches this...

He gestures on the floor plan with a pen. Based on Gavin’s expression, what he’s saying is correct.

I ponder on this seriously, tapping open the map in my phone.

MC: Gavin, this Pavilion Village...

Gavin: I remember. We were there once when we sent a lost elderly man home.

The STF team members, who were searching for maps, glance up at each other in tacit understanding, remaining silent.

MC: This neighbourhood is very close to Line 2.

[Note] “Line 2″ is an east-west line of the Shanghai Metro network

Gavin taps on the desk with the knuckle of his index finger.

Gavin: Extract the audio.

The STF member amplifies the audio in the video clip, and everyone listens patiently for a few seconds.

“Whoosh” - the anticipated sound appears.

Gavin: Eight seconds.

Team member: Each carriage of Line 2 spans 20 metres. There are a total of 6 carriages, so it measures 120 metres in total. The train travels at an approximate speed of 54km/h in this area.

No longer hesitant, Gavin pushes the keyboard away.

Gavin: Let’s go.

As they prepare the equipment, I quickly run over to Gavin. Without saying anything, he has already refused.

Gavin: You have to stay here. I can’t guarantee if the suspect moved the hostages to a different location after filming the clip. You’re Plan B, and have to be prepared at any moment.

His simple words persuade me completely. Time is tight and I have no time to hesitate. I instantly pull on him again.

MC: Could you bring a cameraman along?

MC: You know him - he’s the one who came along during past missions. He’s really experienced and won’t disturb you guys.

MC: ...what you said is correct, but this person sent the video clip to me, so there must be something he wanted to express.

MC: No matter what it is, it’d be good to have it recorded on camera.

Gavin is silent for a moment, then nods.

[ Chapter Six ]

The cameraman has followed the STF during past projects. When he arrives at the TV station, he already has a camera on his shoulder.

Not wanting the others in the broadcasting studio to feel anxious, I put on my earpieces in an isolated corner, listening to the live feed.

Gavin: Everyone, take note. The suspect this time might have an Evol related to hallucinations or memory distortion. At this point, we can’t verify if he can manipulate a person’s mind. Under the effects of such Evol, there’s a high possibility that you might point the weapons in your hands to your own team mates. So right now, remove your guns and ammunition. Don’t carry any equipment which may be dangerous in a situation where you lose your senses.

Hearing Gavin’s calm and resolute voice drifting through the earpieces, I stare at the script in my hands, no longer letting my imagination run wild. I focus on memorising it quietly.

Soon, it’s almost time for the broadcast to begin.

I glance at my phone - it’s 6.34pm. Through the earpieces, I can tell that Gavin has brought his team to Block 7 of the Pavilion Village.

With a clack, the gate is pushed open, and the sound is so jarring that one can almost see the red rust on the iron gate.

I hear the sound of incredibly soft footsteps heading up step after step. They pause at every six steps before ascending to the next floor.

I count in my heart: two, three, four... five. They’ve arrived.

Not long after, the sound of a door being forced open suddenly drifts into the earpieces. The clamour of footsteps and the wooden door being pushed open overlap.

I can’t help but unlock my phone, watching the images being recorded by the camera at this moment.

Gavin is taking the lead, stepping into a bedroom. Just as the camera is about to follow, he suddenly turns around, reaching out to cover the lens.

MC: ?

At the same time, Gavin gives me a call.

Gavin: The hostages have been rescued. The show can be broadcasted normally.

Overjoyed at this unexpected good news, I hurriedly wave at the director, conveying this news to them loudly.

Cheers erupt in the broadcasting studio. The host hurriedly walks to her position, taking the script with a smile, facing the camera and tidying her appearance.

Soon after, I hear Gavin’s voice through the phone again.

Gavin: The suspect is already dead - it’s fundamentally concluded that it was a suicide.

[ Chapter Seven ]

An Evolver in Gavin’s team can sense the number of life forms across a wall. Before entering the room, his Evol had detected two people.

This differed from the display on the thermal image.

That’s why Gavin called - to verify the suspect’s condition when he met me.

As the witness of this case, I received a notification from Gavin to make a statement in STF once the operation was over.

After going through the entire process, it’s already 10pm. I’m sitting on a bench the STF’s hall, waiting for Gavin.

Not long after, a tall figure blocks the incandescent light in front of me.

MC: Sorry.

Gavin: Who are you apologising to?

MC: I don’t know. I just feel that... I couldn’t even do anything.

He kneels down, his right knee on the ground. He looks directly at me.

Gavin: Don’t have such thoughts. His death is unrelated to anyone.

He reaches out, brushing aside my sweat-drenched fringe. He speaks softly.

Gavin: It will take some time to digest this conclusion. There’s a professional psychologist responsible for such matters in the STF. I’ll bring you over tomorrow. As for now -

Gavin doesn’t give me more time to feel remorseful. He grabs my hand, pulling me towards the entrance.

Gavin: Let’s go. They’re waiting for you.

MC: Waiting for me?

Gavin: To eat.

With a confused expression, I’m pulled to a restaurant near the entrance of STF. The door opens - everyone’s there. I’ve never seen everyone gathered together like this.

Eli: Finally here? I already said the Administration Department’s always dallying. Even signing documents takes so long. The dishes are getting cold.

Tang Chao: Sister MC has worked hard today. I heard about everything. Well... don’t take it to heart. We actually run into such matters on missions often...

I pause, turning to one of the team members I saw at the TV station today.

MC: I still want to know... what happened at the scene today?

The team member glances at Gavin. When he sees Gavin’s nod, he speaks hesitantly.

Team member: He left a note. It stated that he knew that it was just an accident, but it was a pit he couldn’t cross. It’s Wen Wen’s birthday today, and he wanted to accompany her. The character “喜” was pasted in the bedroom.

[Trivia] The word 喜 (“xI”) means “happy event”, and it’s often found on decor for traditional Chinese weddings

I recall what the cameraman said to me after he returned today -

The reason why Captain Gavin covered the camera lens was because he knew you were watching. But afterwards, he continued to let the camera roll, because you definitely wouldn’t be wiling to give up on this material.

While I’m spacing out, Gavin presses me down onto a chair.

Gavin: Don’t think about anything else. Eat first. I once had the same feelings as you do right now. But when a case is over, it’s over.

Sensing that Gavin is worried about me, I nod subconsciously.

MC: I know. But I’ll still include this case into the show... I’ll try presenting the truth in a more objective manner. From an outsider’s perspective, I’ll see what kind of story I can convey.

But all of this will be left for later. I hold up a cup, pouring myself a drink.

MC: Time to eat, time to eat. Let’s toast-

Gavin chuckles. He holds up his cup, bumping it against the rim of mine.

Gavin: Everyone, help yourselves to the food. It's my treat tonight.

- End -

“Inquries” continues to be broadcasted. The workload and resistance to producing this program are both substantial. However, the production team believes that when faced with interrogations from the audience and speculations from society, it is only when such things continue that the media can carry out justice.

More from Season 2: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #MmMmmm COMMANDER GAVIN #WIPES DROOL #THE SPEED AT WHICH HE MAKES DEDUCTIONS #SCREAMING

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

Text

Neighbours

Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, cursing, kissing, mentions of cheating, death of a parent, alcohol.

Category: Mix of angst and fluff

Word Count: 4k

Author's Note: Idea came from @m0rcia‘s garvez idea from the Hotchner fam au :)

-----

During High School

The boy next door.

Oh how you hated him, something about him just irritated you. Tall, dark and annoying is what he was, there was no other way to put it. It wasn’t always like that though, truthfully you and Derek had gotten along rather well as children.

Things started to change around the start of high school, you didn't hang out as much and you had both gotten your own friend groups. His focus was on football and yours was on school. The two of you used to spend hours upon hours outside throwing around that stupid football of his. You’d both go home covered in mud and grass stains but you didn’t have the same desire to be tackled into the mud as you did when you were younger.

Senior year was coming to an end, everyone had picked a path for their life and you were, well, stuck. You had no clue what you wanted to do or where to go from there. The whole neighbourhood was gushing about Derek, the school’s star football player and his plans to go to Northwestern with his football scholarship. Of course your parents also knew all about Derek and his scholarship, meaning that you got compared to him every single night until you figured out what you were doing with your life.

Graduation day was absolute hell. It was hot and you were uncomfortable in the heels your mother forced you to wear. You sat in the smouldering heat with all of your classmates, listening as your wretched principal spoke.

Clearly, you loved high school.

It came the time to throw the caps, because your school did things like that. You un-energetically threw your cap in the air, watching as it hit the floor. Something hit your back as you bent to pick up your cap. Turning around, you were met with none other than Derek Morgan himself.

“Sorry y/n”

“Watch where the fuck you throw shit”

“Okay mama, relax with the attitude” he squeezed your shoulder, “I’m sorry”

“Are you though?” you rolled your eyes and pushed his hand off your shoulder.

“I am s-”

“Save it” you shake your head as you walk the other way. He didn’t say anything to you again after that day.

The night before he left, his mom threw a little party for him. It started as a little party and ended with the whole graduating class in Fran’s backyard. You had gone over with your parents, but you didn’t speak to Derek. You said hello to Fran and his sisters, and a few friends you saw at the party. Your parents left early and you stuck around to hang out with some friends.

Around 3am, you decided it was time to head home. It was only Derek with a few of his guys and their girlfriends hanging around, your friends had just left. Fran was in the kitchen trying to clean up the house, you stepped in and knocked on the wall.

“Need some help Mrs. Morgan ?”

“Oh sweetie, call me Fran and I'm alright. Why don’t you head home ?”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. If it’s just the kitchen, I can finish up and you can go to bed ?”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked before setting the garbage bag down.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Get some rest” you smiled back.

She kissed your cheek before heading to her bedroom. You liked Fran, she was always nice to you and checked up on you, even if you and Derek stopped talking.

The backdoor clicked shut while you were washing the dishes. “Hey, I didn't realize you were still here” Derek spoke quietly, “where’s mom?” he asked you. “In bed, I told her I'd finish cleaning up” you told him, not turning around.

“Thanks, I can take over if you wanna get home” he mumbled with his mouth full. You glance over your shoulder to see Derek practically inhaling a slice of pizza.

“You still don't chew?” you asked him, shutting off the sink and wiping your hands off.

“What’s that supposed to mean ?” he said, his brows furrowed and his mouth full. You gave him a small smile and shook your head.

“You actually smile?” Derek asked you, a look of genuine amazement on his face.

“Shut up” you picked up a slice of pizza and hopped up onto the counter. Derek stood beside you, leaning against the counter. The only thing between you and him was the empty box of pizza. The two of you ate in silence, no tension, no anger, just there in the moment.

Derek looked over at you, “what happened to us?” he questioned you.

“What do you mean?” you hopped off the counter.

“You used to say we’d be in each other’s lives forever when we were younger” he watched as you moved about the kitchen.

“I’m still here Derek” you told him.

“But you’re not though” he uttered, looking at you.

“It’s just different now” you picked up the empty box and threw it out.

“How? I’m still me and you’re still you” He grabbed your hand.

You scoffed and shook your head, “expect you’re not just you anymore. You’re the popular football player that everyone loves and I'm just.. me”

He looked at you, he looked sad. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t do that. Don’t say it’s not true, because we both know it’s true.” Derek didn't say anything to you, he pulled you closer to him. You were now standing in front of him, he was still against the counter.

“Y/n, you’ll always be important to me, you know that right ? I know we drifted, a lot more than I’d like to admit but I still care about you, I still check on you” his hand cradled your face, you were looking up at him.

“Really ?” you asked him quietly, so quietly he almost didn't hear you. He nodded and leaned towards you. You leaned in too, his lips inches away from yours.

“Can I?” he whispered, you nodded. His lips were on yours, your arms were over his shoulder, one of your hands resting on the back on his neck. Derek’s hand was still on your cheek and the other one on your waist.

If it wasn't for his sister coming down and catching the two of you, it would have gone on a lot long. “Ahem” she cleared her throat, you and Derek pulled away from each other and turned towards her.

“Hey you two” she had a smug smile on her face.

“Hi.. uh I should get home” you said quietly before heading towards the door.

“Let me walk you home” Derek followed you to the door, you shook your head. “I’m fine. Goodnight you guys, tell Fran I say thank you for having us over” you slide open the backdoor and step out.

The early morning breeze was chill but yet warm. It was starting to change to autumn weather, you walked across the street, the wind blowing the leaves down the street. You sat on your front porch when you got home, your mom stepped out.

“Are you now getting home?” she walked past you to the car.

“Yeah, I stayed back to help Fran tidy up. Where are you going ?” you asked

“Work, there was an emergency” she told you as she got in the car, you knew she was lying to you. Sometimes she forgot you weren’t a kid anymore, you knew she was cheating on your dad. She wasn’t very good at hiding it, but you had the things on your mind, like your kiss with Derek.

He was leaving for college in less than 12 hours, it made no sense to start something with him. You sat on your porch for the rest of the day, heading in to use the bathroom and get something to eat.

You watched the sun rise, felt the temperature change, watched Derek pack his boxes into the car, saw his goodbye to his sisters and his mother. He looked across the street, he looked at you before getting in his car. He didn't smile, he didn't come say anything.

He just left.

15 years later

You found yourself, once again, on your front pouch watching Derek. Only this time, he was unpacking. Fran had passed away last week, it was a heart attack. No one could have known but that didn't make it hurt any less.

You had seen him at the funeral, you didn’t say anything to him but he saw you. He gave you a small smile and you gave him one back. You hadn't seen him since your kiss 15 years ago.

He stepped into the house and shut the door, you headed inside too. Your house was just as empty as his. Your parents had moved to the Bahamas in an attempt to save their marriage, leaving you with the house. You took the year after high school to work before finally settling on teaching as a career. You taught at your local high school with the same horrible staff and wretched principal that you hated all those years ago. You understood how the kids felt, it wasn't hard to connect with them.

Settling in on your couch with a bottle of wine and Netflix, the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” you called out, not wanting to get up but there was no answer. The doorbell rang again, “who’s there?” you shouted, thinking that whoever was at the door didn't hear you the first time, but again there was no answer. The bell rang a 3rd time, “fuck hold on! I'm coming” you groaned as you walked to the door. You pulled the door open,

“Are you deaf? you didn't hear me shouti-” Derek stood at your front door. “Oh, hi” you looked at him, he looked the same, only slightly older, more mature. “Hey, can I come in?” he asked, you nodded before stepping aside and letting him in.

You really had debated if you should let him in, but you couldn’t turn him away, especially not now, not after what he had just gone through.

He looked around as he followed you back to the living room. “House looks different” he took a seat on one end of the couch, “yeah, remodelled after they left” you sat at the other. Derek looked at you with a confused expression on his face, “left?” “they went to the Bahamas to try and save their marriage but I doubt that’ll work” you took a sip of your wine. You leaned the bottle in his direction, he took the bottle from you and took a sip.

“No glasses ?” he chuckled, leaning back into the cushions.

“Didn’t want to wash them afterwards” you turned the grinch back on. Derek laughed, you looked over at him, “what ?” “you still watch this shit?” “hey! the grinch is my favourite, don't start with me Morgan” he rolled his eyes and settled back into his spot.

15 minutes later, he rolled over onto his stomach and sprawled himself over your couch. “I'm hungry, what do you have to eat ?” he looked at you, “order a pizza” you mumbled, your eyes still on the tv.

Half an hour later, a weight lifts off the house and your front door opens. Derek returns to the couch with a box of pizza. You watched as he set the box down and opened it, he looked over at you.

“It’s rude to stare” he smiled and you shook your head “don't flatter yourself”

He picked up a piece and practically inhaled it. “Seriously dude, would it kill you to chew ?” you watched him as his face changed into confusion.

“Okay, I need to know what you mean by that! I've been hearing it my whole life” he pouted. You let out a loud laugh, “you never chew, you just inhale your food” you told him, his mouth making an O shape.

Once again, you could yourself in the company of Derek Morgan, in the middle of the night, eating pizza, in silence. Shifting positions on the couch, you turned to him, “I'm really sorry about Fran, she was a wonderful woman” you spoke quietly, unsure if you regretted what you just said. He nodded, “she was, wasn’t she?” he gave you a small smile.

“I saw your sisters when at the service, they didn’t come help you pack up ?”

“They’ve got their lives, work and their families. I told them I'd handle it”

“Hm, you’re not busy with work ? What happened to Mister Big Shot that went to Northwestern?” you joked, he chuckled.

“Well, Mister Big Shot that went to Northwestern” he mocked, “got a law degree and works for the FBI now” he admitted to you proudly.

“What the hell, are you serious ?” you were genuinely shocked, he nodded. If someone told you that Derek went on to be a football player, you’d believe them with no questions asked, but Derek, as a FBI agent, was something you never ever thought would happen.

“The same Derek that rolled around in mud his entire childhood and was in trouble all the time, works for the fricking FBI ?” you laughed, “yup, that would be the one and I wasn't always in trouble!”

The two you ended up sitting on the couch till about 3 am. “Can I ask you something ?” Derek turned to you, “of course” you looked over at him.

“What happened to us? I want the truth. We’ve both grown up, the least we can do is talk about it.”

“I don’t know, we just drifted.” you looked at the wall, you couldn’t bare to look at Derek right now. His hand rested on yours, “y/n, c’mon, the truth.”

“We just didn't fit into each other’s lives anymore. You went from Derek that would play dolls with me to Derek that was the popular football player. All the girls loved you, they practically swooned over you in the hallways, the guys were constantly talking about you and your games. I didn't want that attention. I just wanted you as you, not everything that came with it. The only way to let you go was to push you away I guess” you admitted to him, he sighed.

“See, if you had told me that-” you cut him off, “what ? you would have ignored all the girls ? stopped being the star of the football team ? don’t lie to yourself Derek. We both knew you loved it, it’s who you are. You would have never given that up, especially not for me.” you looked over at him, his eyes were on you. He looked at you like he had never seen you before, like you were this fascinating thing that deserved all of his attention.

“That moment we had in the kitchen that night, that meant nothing ?” he moved closer to you. “Of course it meant something but you didn’t even say goodbye. You just upped and left, Derek. All the times you came home to visit, you didn’t even say hello”

“y/n, I tried. I came every time I came home. That day, I didn’t say goodbye because I thought I had upset you with the kiss, but I came every time I came home, to see you and try and talk. Your mom always said you weren’t home and she’d tell you.”

“What? She never told me anything”

“Well there you go. I tried, I promise you I did.”

The two of you sat there, the tension was so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife. “Y/n” he called for you, you were too deep in your thoughts to hear him. “y/n” he called out again, his finger pulls your chin towards him.

“Hm?”

“You know I care about you, right ? I never stopped”

“Okay” you mumbled and got up.

“That’s it? We’re not going to talk about it ?” Derek stood up

You walked into the kitchen, ignoring Derek and his questions. You leaned forward on the counter, your hands gripping the edge to try and ground yourself.

Why hadn’t she told me he came ? He just wanted to talk, what’s her problem ?

“Y/n, come on. Can we talk?” Derek rested his hand on your shoulder, you shrugged your shoulder and pushed his hand off. “Get out” you mumbled, “what ?” his eyes burning into your back. “Get. Out.” you said a little louder, “Why ? I just want to ta-” you turned around, you grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him out of the kitchen and to the front door. “Out” you opened the door,

“I'm so confused, why?”

“Derek, shut up and get out!”

You pushed him out of the door, he stood there looking back at you with a look of shock and confusion on his face. You slammed the door shut before heading to the bedroom to find our phone, expect it wasn't there. It felt as if you tore apart the entire house looking for it. When you found it, you dialled the one person you knew could answer your questions.

“Hello ?” She answered

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that Derek came to see me ?! and not just once, BUT EVERY TIME!!” you yelled into the phone

“Honey, calm down” your mother said to you.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! you lied to me for 15 years, you watched me sulk for 2 whole years about Derek kissing me and just leaving when you knew he had come to talk to me!”

“He’s no good for you” she said as if that was a fact.

“What the hell does that mean? Not like you’d know what was good for me anyways. You don't care about anyone but yourself” you just hung up on her, you weren't in the mood to deal with her and her nonsense.

You paced back and forth through the whole house for a few hours. You had downed an entire bottle of wine while you paced, you knew what you needed to do.

Come on, it’s just Derek.

You headed out of the house and across the street.

God, what if he hates me now ?

You walked back towards your house.

Oh, he won't hate me.

You headed back to his house.

This is stupid.

You turned around to walk back to your house when you heard his voice.

“Are you gonna stand out here all night like a mad woman ?” he leaned against the door frame. You walked up to him, he stood there looking at you. “I’m sorry I kicked you out earlier.. I just needed a minute to process things” you admitted, Derek chuckled. “Considering that it's 4am, I'd say you had more than a minute to process. I’m making tea, want some?” he asked you, you nodded, “tea sounds good” you walked in.

The house hadn't changed, expect for the addition of a few new picture frames. There were some of his sisters and him from what looks like his college graduation, some of his sisters and their families and the one that stood out to you was of Derek, Fran and some little skinny white boy. You picked up the frame and turned to Derek.

“Come all this way and flirt with me but you have a boyfriend ?” you asked, holding back a laugh.

“Haha, very funny. That’s Spencer Reid, we work together”

“He works for the FBI ? He looked like a baby” you laughed and set down the frame.

“He’s grown a lot since then” Derek laughed and headed to the kitchen, you followed him. “God, it felt like just yesterday we were running around here with Fran cooking and yelling at us” you said, hopping up on the counter. “Yeah, we had some good times” Derek smiled as he handed you a mug of tea.

The two of you drank your tea quietly, you broke the silence.

“I talked to my mom” you looked over at Derek, he turned to face you.

“Oh yeah? What’d she say ?”

“Nothing important, just tried to lie to me yet again”

“About ?”

“Apparently you’re ‘no good for me’ whatever that means” you roll your eyes, Derek shifts closer to you and he changes the topic.

“You’re a teacher now ?”

“I am” you smiled, “ I don’t remember telling you that though, you work your FBI magic on me?” you chuckled, he smiled at you.

“Mom told me, actually” your head tilted to the side, he realized you were confused.

“I feel weird admitting this to you, but she used to tell me what you were up too. She said she came to your graduation too” he fidgeted with his fingers.

You smiled to yourself at the memory of Fran at your graduation. Your parents had already moved away and you didn't have anyone, you mentioned it to Fran as a by-the-way thing and she showed up.

“She did, but you’ve been keeping tabs on me or everyone you graduated with?”

“Just the ones I've made out with” he had a smirk on that annoying face of his

“Oh so half of the graduating class?” you held back a laugh. A loud “hey!” and a light smack to the arm was what that comment got you. Derek picked up the empty mugs and put them in the sink, on his way back to his spot beside you, you stretched your legs out, one was on each side of him.

“What’s the plan here Ms. L/N?”

“Not sure Mr. Morgan”

“Actually, it's Agent Morgan to you” he stated causing you to roll your eyes. His hands rested on your thighs, “just two friends, chilling in a kitchen. Maybe they might kiss” you mumbled looking at him, he looked back at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah they might”

“Exact- wait what ?”

His hand cradled your face, your lips inches apart. “Can I ?” “Stop talking and kiss me alrea-” His lips on yours ended your sentence. Your heart pounded in your chest, you could only focus on how Derek’s lips felt against yours. You had been dreaming for another moment like this since your last kiss with him, it felt as if time stopped and it was only the two of you while the world melted away.

Derek’s eyes had opened, taking the beautiful women in front of him. Taking in the moment just to make sure he wasn’t imagining what he had dreamt of the last 15 years and for the first time in those 15 years, he didn't feel angry or sad when he looked at you, he saw the one he had been waiting for.

It felt like forever before either of you pulled away for a breath. Your hands clung onto Derek’s shirt like he’d disappear if you let go, his hands found their way to the back of your neck, toying with the hair at the nape of your neck. The two of you, wrapped up in each other, smiling at one another like children.

“Not so bad huh ?”

“Not so bad Morgan”

----

Taglist: @aaronhotchnerr @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @ssa-holmes @katexrichardson @sluttytears

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stilemawillow · 4 years ago

Text

His Eyes and Her Mind [Levi | Reader | High school AU!]

You're slowly browsing through your old Psychology notebook before you pinpoint a sentence that draws your attention. Your reaction is immediate - your lips curl into a condescending smile as you stare at it, highly amused.

'Eyes are a door to one's soul.'

Yeah, as if. You cackle and your boyfriend throws you a strange look from his seat across the table outside the café you're currently at. Honestly, you've never believed this eye to soul connection and there is very little that can change your opinion on the matter.

1. Normal look Indifference

You walked down the hallway with your best friend Hanji when you saw him. Hanji flipped her brown hair over her shoulder, talking about your Biology lesson, but you could no longer hear her as distinctly. He was walking towards you with his small group of friends - Isabel and Farlan, the girl and boy on both his sides discussing something heatedly as he watched the debate silently.

You were approximately five feet away when he also looked up and saw you. You felt something turn inside you, but it was a daily occurrence around him so you ignored the sign as always and stared into his gunmetal orbs. Your face stayed impassive and so did his as your small groups passed each other down the hallway, but you had to admit you liked the attention he had been giving you recently.

Sure, you'd never really talked, but you'd exchanged plain courtesy and greetings at times when it was inevitably going to happen anyway. You never thought much of it - he was attractive and he was staring at you more than you'd ever seen him stare at anybody, but that was it. It didn't make your heart flutter, your knees wobble or your head spin. It shouldn't have as well.

You just couldn't get his dumb eyes out of your head.

2. Intense stare Frustration

What's his problem?! You were fucking sure if he kept staring at you like that you were going to get up and slap him at one point. Second term turned out to be your "lucky" one since you now shared three out of seven classes with Levi Ackerman, the one that had been paying you attention since the beginning of the junior school year.

Your brows momentarily furrowed.

Of course, since you'd had only two short-term boyfriends in your life so far and they'd never really paid much attention to you you enjoyed it more than you should've. It still didn't make your knees wobble or your mind fogged up with daydreams of the boy sweeping you off your feet, but you still hadn't even led a proper conversation.

You nervously licked your dry lips.

You were forced to officially meet last month during a project you had to do with three other people, but other than that stiff interaction you'd never even said anything to him and he seemed fine with that. Only recently, however, his attention seemed to have gone to the next level. For a week straight he'd been staring you down like he wanted to come up to you and ask you to willingly give him all your valuable personal belongings.

You got a hand through your hair in frustration.

Today was especially intense for some unknown to you reason, but it was pissing you off since you could feel it and it made you uncomfortable. Did he have some kind of problem with you - your attire, attitude, appearance as a whole? Maybe you pissed him off? Maybe you'd said something wrong? Maybe he was in a bad mood and decided to get it out on you?

A sigh left your lips.

You doubted the last one since Levi always seemed like he was in a bad mood, but you'd never seen him stare at somebody like this just because of that. You didn't know what his stare meant and that pissed you off more than the distracting persistence of his gunmetal hues. You were frustrated up to the point of blowing up any second now - his stare had made you avoid him as a whole less than ten minutes ago.

Your finger started tapping on your notebook impatiently.

The teacher at the front was talking about something you couldn't even pay attention to, Levi's tense orbs were digging holes into your face and the feeling of it was unsettling. So Hanji had been right when she said people could actually feel when they were being watched. You looked up, anything but interested in your work and stared right back into the gunmetal hues of the male across your desk, sharing his best friend's coursebook which had forced him to turn his back to the teacher and his face to you.

You saw his own eyebrow twitch momentarily but his gaze never left yours. You glared hard into his eyes, trying to provoke him, but it was in vain - he didn't react in any way. You tried to read what in the fucking hell had made him this annoyed with you in the first place - could there be any specific reason for his staring?

Your stomach turned again when you saw him get a hand through his silky locks as his eyes left yours. Great, now you were the one staring. Your eyes narrowed and you kept observing him, but he made no effort whatsoever to regain the lost eye contact, which just made you angrier.

Was he trying to make you look like a creep by staring at him? Well, you weren't going to have it.

With a huff, your attention went back to your own coursebook. You could feel his intense stare on your face less than a second after that. To say that you almost broke your pen in half wasn't an understatement.

3. Bashful avoidance Confusion

He just had to be like that, didn't he? Levi Ackerman, the all mighty, fearless sorta bad boy, sorta nerd. He just had to keep looking at you, giving your desperate being some kind of false hope and a shit ton of mixed signals. And what was worse - he didn't seem to regret it one bit. The worst however was yet to come and it was the unknown. Sometimes it scared you more than your biggest fears.

Fear of heights? Well, this building's last floor may be the fifth or fifty-fifth, wouldn't know with that fog.

Fear of the dark? That room might be lit up by the sun itself, but it could also be pitch black. Wouldn't want to understand which.

Fear of not knowing something? Levi Ackerman might as well tell you he loved or loathed you - you couldn't care less, but the tension of not knowing which of the two it was would break you before his words came out of his mouth.

Of course, the above was just a simple example of the situation at hand, which, in your personal opinion, was way worse. He was staring at you - fine. He made this strange thing happen to your internal organs with his presence - fine. He was charming, strangely kind, attractive, funny, intelligent and somehow generous, and he was paying attention to you of all people - fine. He confused you with his behaviour - not fine.

It had taken him two more days to calm down his intense stare, but he gradually did so and soon enough it was back to how it had always been - exchange of glances along the length of the hallway or up and down the stairs, sometimes even outside during lunch break. You rarely saw him out of school even though he lived in the same neighbourhood as you (which you knew since you regularly took the bus together) which was a relief of kinds. However, his recent behaviour seemed to confuse you more than anything.

First, he paid attention to you. Then, he tried to dig a hole into your face using only his eyes. Next, he stopped staring altogether and instead seemed like he was flirting with some other girl. Sure, she flirted first, but that wasn't much of an excuse. And all of a sudden, he was super friendly with the girl while eyeing you up constantly whenever you saw each other. It confused the fuck out of your mind and you hated not understanding certain things.

Not that you were the best when it came to emotions, socialising and such, but Levi had been remotely easy to read. Well, not now.

He walked into the school building with Farlan, sitting on the bench inside and facing your way (because you and Ymir were sitting on the bench across the room). You had a clear view of his eyes and how they trailed over your face, gently trying to push you to make eye contact with him. You didn't. Not yet anyway. It took you five seconds of a pointless exchange of stupid trivial phrases with Ymir to finally meet his gaze. You'd washed your hair earlier the same morning and combed it as much as you could before going out, so it was not a surprise that Levi noticed that - he always saw the little things.

Under normal circumstances, you'd lock gazes for the overall of ten seconds before either of your friends tore you away from the craved eye contact. This time it was different. Why? Because he looked away in less than a second.

Your brows raised in surprise and you listened to Ymir's story of her and Krista's date with half an ear, nodding occasionally when she would pause. The male's gesture confused you immensely - why did he look away? Was there something wrong with you? Did you not look as good? Of course, the mere fact that the action of his eyes averting from yours made you doubt yourself and grow self-conscious was stupid, but you couldn't help it - he never acted like that and you wanted to know why he did now.

This was where irritation came in. He confused you and you hated being confused, but it was inevitable - his further behaviour only made the issue deepen. The action repeated exactly four times before he and Farlan decided enough was enough and went up the stairs. He would look at you, hold your gaze for less than two seconds and look away as indifferently as possible. There were no changes in his facial expression and you could read nothing in his eyes. You were baffled at that - you were usually the one to look away.

You noticed the nervous tapping of his finger on his knee and the slight twitch of his thin eyebrow, but it wasn't something you considered significant at the time. You should have. Because it was.

4. Piercing glare Anger

"I told you for the last time - I'm not going out with you, Mark."

Everything was pissing you off - today had started badly and was currently holding a steady pace. You had a pop quiz on your most hated subject so you barely got any sleep. Your mother had broken the coffee machine and your father had refused to fix it so no caffeine for you. And now due to yesterday’s downpoar your muddy shoes made you slip every few seconds.

Also, the constant annoyance bugging at your mind because of Levi's closeness with Petra was wow, what a surprise - annoying. It was troubling you on an emotional level, which was bad because if it was a trivial problem having to do with anything else you'd be in perfect condition to ignore it. Finally, this guy - Mark, who had been hitting on you for the past month suddenly decided to make an appearance during lunch break, block your way to your precious caffeine and ask you out on a date after you'd already refused him approximately five times.

Not to mention, he wasn't from the innocent annoying type - he was from the persistent scary type, where shit could get serious if you got too aggressive yourself. And right now, all you wanted was to get some fucking coffee and go back to class.

"Why, (Y/N)? You don't have a boyfriend." Mark put his hand on the tree which you'd found solace next to up until this moment, turning it into a trap that had just clicked instead. You found his smug strangely irritating today, to the point you could punch him if he tried anything funny.

"I just don't see you in that way, I don't want to waste my time." You retorted, teeth gritting in annoyance before the male decided to stop playing around. There weren't many people around you since the only coffee machine in a mile's radius was pretty far away and most students preferred to spend their time in the little shops around the school building and the cafeteria instead.

"So you're saying I'm a waste of time?" Mark leaned closer to you and his eyebrows furrowed, his pretty face finally showing its true colours. He had dirty blond curly hair and plain brown eyes, he was rather muscular and tall - all things he felt immensely proud of. Despite his face and body, however, he wasn't overly popular - he played sports and loved to hook up with every girl a bit above average, which really brought him down into the eyes of the female population in your school, resulting in some major disapproval coming from the student body.

"I'm saying it will waste our time as a whole, it's useless." You said, trying to ignore the way you wanted to punch him straight in the jaw. Maybe it wouldn't even work, but trying would surely satisfy your inner aggressive side - you just had to imagine you were hitting that stupid girl that was flirting with Levi.

"Not if I say it's not." Mark argued, making you turn your face to the side because of how close he was getting to you.

"Are you threatening me?" You inquired slowly with narrowed eyes. He just laughed at you before smirking down at your face.

"Do you want me to threaten you or will you agree to go out with me willingly?"

"Does that mean if I don't say 'yes' you'll force me?"

"Yes." He looked like the Big Bad Wolf about to have breakfast when he put his other hand on the tree behind you, pinning you between his arms. "When I want something I get it." His expression may have been seductive, but to you it was disgusting - how could such a male survive so long in society when he was this stupid and forceful?

"Didn't know you were a rapist besides being a womanizer." You pointed out, only to have the daylights slapped out of you a second later.

"Shut up!" He should have been thankful there weren't people around, otherwise, somebody would have come and stopped him by now. You guessed you wouldn't be able to have your coffee soon. The slap made your cheek sting and your eyes narrowed in fury. Sure, you couldn't do anything to fight him off except kick him in the nuts, which wouldn't do as much as you'd want it to, but you could sure as hell glare at him all you wanted.

"You're pathetic, you can't even take a rejection." You faced Mark, angry yet scared of what he might do to you now. You weren't going to let him have his way just because he was stronger, though. His face twisted in fury and he grasped your wrist, bruising the skin with his calloused fingers. He was about to hit you again with his other hand before it happened.

"Let go." Another male growled behind Mark's back. "Right. Now."

"Since when are you interested in protecting people? Or is it just this bitch?" Mark snarled at the other male, which you soon came to understand was actually Levi. Your eyes were wide as you stared at his frown. You doubted you'd ever seen him that angry.

"Are you sure you can question me right now?" The raven-haired boy asked with furrowed brows and a glare so hard you thought it would burn you if he directed it towards your eyes. Mark flinched and you felt his grip on your wrist loosen up a bit.

"What do you think you can do to me, Ackerman?" The blond asked cockily even though you could see his jaw clench in helplessness. You realised who would win if they got in a fight and honestly - if somebody asked you to name one thing that would probably make you piss yourself from fear it was going to be Levi's glare in the current moment. It burned with the intensity of a raging fire for unknown to you reasons - it couldn't be because of you, right? He was probably here to get himself coffee and decided to play 'save the damsel in distress' on the way to the machine.

"Do you wanna see?" Levi closed in on you and Mark and you felt your wrist fall from his hold as he stepped back. Levi cracked his knuckles and the blond gulped. You didn't really think Levi's words were what scared him off.

"I'm just tired because I had a match during PE. Next time this won't happen." He ran faster than anything you'd seen after that, leaving you and Levi all alone.

"Because there won't be a next time." The raven mumbled to himself dangerously low. His glare moved from the ground to you and you felt your blood boil. You glared back at him and pushed yourself off the tree with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl.

"What a fucking dumbass! I could handle him, you know, I didn't need your help!" You exclaimed in the raven's face. Surprisingly that was probably the first proper conversation you were having with him after your stiff official meeting.

"Do you really think so? Because I think you would've been raped in less than ten minutes." He pointed out in the most indifferent voice ever, making you try to dig a hole into his skull with your eyes. His glare was making you angrier yourself. When he stepped closer to you and gently wrapped his fingers around your bruised wrist your expression twisted in disgust and you yanked your hand away from his hold, ignoring how his glare had actually scared you moments ago.

You stepped away from him and went away, but not before snarling: "Don't fucking touch me."

5. Shocked gleam Fright

"Hanji, stop talking about this, it's stupid." You were walking down the stairs with your brown-haired friend once again - a week or so had passed after the whole 'Mark incident' and surprisingly enough he never even approached you after that, it was like he was afraid to. You didn't pay much attention to it, going back to your routine of stealing glances at Levi Ackerman from time to time when he wasn't looking and hoping his gaze was tracing your face just as much as yours did his.

Unfortunately, you kept catching Petra Ral flirting with him and there was nothing you could do about it but blame yourself for not having the self-esteem to talk to him like she did. Right now, the discussed topic was close to your problems.

"I'm just saying if you mustered up some courage and started talking to him regularly his interest would pick up and hers would fade. The boy's basically staring at you every chance he gets, (Y/N)." Hanji argued as you pushed your way down the stairs through the other students going up. You knew Levi and Farlan were somewhere behind you since you had the same class together now, you just hoped neither of them would pick up on your conversation with the brown-haired girl.

"Hanji, I said stop. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Period." You stated harshly, looking at the girl next to you and clutching your backpack tighter. You briefly heard 'look at this' before someone bumped into you from behind and you lost your footing on the steps. Your body, your backpack and your combat boots tumbled down the stairs with nothing to catch on.

For a small second, you managed to use some student's shoulder to try and stabilise yourself, but it didn't work - it just turned your body so that you would fall on your back once the fateful moment came. You had a clear view of Hanji's parted lips and horrified expression. Right next to her, however, you saw something you may have just as well imagined with everything moving so fast.

Levi's hand was pushing through the students to get down faster and his eyes screamed something you couldn't really read. They gleamed in a way you never thought you'd see, like he'd seen his favourite cat get run over by a car on the street. Or something of the sort. You felt something grasp your hand, but had no time to see what exactly. The impact was here.

You didn't have time to analyse his wide eyes because your world went black less than a second after you were exposed to the complex sight.

Two hours later, you woke up in the infirmary with a giant headache and a panicked Hanji coming to visit you once classes were over. During your stay, you asked the nurse what had happened, but the only thing she said confused you even more: "If I understood correctly, the boy's arm almost broke when he used it to soften your fall. Well, you didn't get out completely uninjured since your back is bruised, but maybe you were actually lucky."

The next day Levi didn't come to school.

6. Deep gaze Care

Calm, (Y/N), keep calm. It's all fine. You repeated over and over again in your head. Not like you had a chance to begin with, it's not a big deal.

Your breaths were coming out ragged and you felt like you weren't trembling because the ground in front of the side entrance of the school building was cold. A month, that was how long Levi had talked to you for. After the incident on the stairs at school and Levi's short absence after that, he started nodding to you when you'd see each other in the halls and you'd throw him a small smile, acknowledging his greeting. That went on for about two weeks before he came to you one day and asked to work with you since Farlan was absent and they always used the same coursebook. You'd said 'yes' without thinking much. Needless to say, you didn't really use the coursebook much that day yourself, you were too busy stealing glances at the male's face from up close and he was too nervous to actually read the exercises you were supposed to be doing.

After that it became a routine for him to approach you at least once a day - he'd give you a plain greeting, ask you about the classes you shared or if you wanted to get coffee together during lunch break (you felt he'd become overprotective after Mark even though there was no reason to be overprotective over you and no danger as a whole). There was always an excuse. Once he even sat next to you on the bus when there were no more free seats. You were happy, your mind was filled with butterflies and your stomach welled up with pleasant thoughts when he was around - or was it supposed to be the other way around?

It didn't matter since for a month you were the happiest girl on Earth.

And then Petra Ral came along. Needless to say, things started becoming shaky and you were drifting away - you didn't want to mess up her flirting with him. He seemed like he didn't notice or he was purely being an asshole and doing it on purpose. Not that it really mattered, you caught them making out less than four hours ago during lunch break. The worst was that he made eye contact right before breaking apart.

Not with her, with you. You would've felt sorry for her because her partner was clearly not paying attention to the activity she was putting so much effort (and tongue) into, but you hated her guts out of pure spite so you couldn't even care about emotions connected to empathy.

It's not his fault, he didn't give me any false hope - I created it myself.

That was your calming chant - he didn't do it just to break your heart, he did it because he wanted to be kind or use your coursebook when Farlan was gone. It wasn't to hurt you intentionally. It sounded stupid now that you thought about it - hoping for anything out of Levi Ackerman. He barely knew you and you barely knew him. Usually, you'd counter yourself with the argument you hadn't even led a proper conversation, but the worst here was that that was invalid now - you'd led many conversations throughout the past month and you'd enjoyed every single one of them no matter how stupid or trivial. For God's sake, you even enjoyed discussing different types of coffee and tea with him.

You weren't crying - you were having something like a minor panic attack, where you just trembled like a leaf and couldn't stop thinking about throwing your useless being in front of some passing bus. Truth be told, you hated these moments - if somebody had seen you during them that was Hanji and Hanji only. You'd never even let your parents understand about it even though the signs must've been there. The twitching, the trembling, the sweating, the ragged breathing. It was there. All of it was out there and if Levi ever saw it he'd truly give up on whatever you had even if it was as insignificant as your existence in the current moment.

You tried to laugh, but it came out messed up - like a person choking. You sat there for five more minutes - in the cold with the wind brushing your hair before you burrowed your face in your knees and closed your eyes. You could feel the tears, but they didn't want to come out. It was useless - crying about a boy that didn't even care about you.

Then somebody gently bumped your leg with their arm. Your head shot up and your hand instinctively reached for the pepper spray in your pocket, the one your father had given you as a Christmas present many months ago. Your eyes widened when you saw who was in front of you.

"Levi," you said, "why are you here?"

His face was expressionless as he gestured towards the cup in his hand. Your eyebrows furrowed and your hand went out of your pocket to grasp the carton cup he was clearly handing you. You smelled the beverage inside, relishing in the pleasant aroma of coffee. It made a smile spring out on your lips. Before you could register what was happening Levi had sat down next to you - closer than a guy with a girlfriend was supposed to sit next to another girl when they were all alone. The action made you flinch, but you didn't move away - it was a rare thing you got to sit this close to him.

You could smell his cologne - it was a fresh, strong smell that made you want to rub your face all over his chest. The male ran a hand through his ebony locks and you marvelled at the sight of his hair's softness. His body was oozing heat, beckoning you to go closer, as close as possible, and lay your head on his chest as his warm arms wrapped around you. You didn't.

"So, about today..." He started, sounding strangely stiff. You sipped from your coffee, warming your cold fingers with the cup and listening. Your stomach took one of those unpleasant turns, but you didn't let it show on your face.

"What exactly about today?"

"I don't even know if I should be discussing this with you, for all I know Farlan's sixth sense may be way too off the shitty map and you don't actually---" His confidence was gone once his panicked gaze met your curious orbs. He seemed confused, disgruntled and so many others. You were perplexed at his behaviour - was he usually this twitchy when it came down to your normal conversations? No, he wasn't, you figured a few seconds later.

"Well," you started after seeing he wouldn't continue, "I don't really know about Farlan's sixth sense, but I---"

"The kiss." He'd cut you off so abruptly you felt like he'd knocked the air out of your lungs with those two short syllables. "The kiss with Petra, it wasn't anything important. It was just a kiss." He continued, getting a hand through his hair again and scratching the back of his undercut with discomfort. "I know we both seem to acknowledge something without me saying it - something about us." You could guess where he was going with that. He meant the constant staring, all the glances and whatnot before you'd started talking. Or at least you thought he meant that. "Petra means nothing, she was just--- she was flirting with me I just didn't stop her because I wasn't sure if you... felt anything."

"... okay."

"Is it?" He asked once his eyes met yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers felt like ice even though they'd warmed up considerably. "Is it okay? Are you?"

"Everything's fine." Your forced smile turned out way more genuine than expected. His gaze was firm and his eyebrows were furrowed - he was trying to detect a lie somewhere along your sentence. He sighed when that didn't happen and for a few seconds, you were both silent. You were trying to process the situation.

Levi. Feelings. She was just flirting. Am I feeling anything?

Your heartbeat was erratic enough to answer in your stead. Then you looked up from the cup in your hands and met his gaze. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing thing you'd seen in your life. His eyes, so grey and so soft, pulled you in, it was like you couldn't look away from them. They were special, he was special and he made you feel special. Why was it that he looked at you with such affection? Were you reciprocating the gaze? You didn't know, but you felt like you could stay like that for hours.

And that was when it happened. Before you even had time to escape his warm hypnotising gaze.

He leaned in and kissed you.

7. Careless eyeroll Reluctance

"You have to go." Hanji insisted, having already annoyed you as much as possible with her various arguments on the topic of your stubbornness.

"And you have to rethink the rights you have over my actions as a self-conscious human being." You replied boredly before placing a hand in front of your mouth in fake shock. "Oh, that's right - they don't exist in the first place." You gasped fakely, making her roll her eyes at your behaviour - forced nonchalance. She knew you wanted to accept the invitation but were too afraid everything would be ruined before you even had the chance to meet up.

"Would you please stop mocking me with those complex phrases, (Y/N)? You won't die if you go to a movie with him." The brunette insisted once more before you turned the corner and you frowned at her.

"Sure, not physically, but I'll be dying the whole time mentally - of embarrassment." You sassed, making the brown-haired girl huff in determination as she walked you to your next class. Your schedules differed the second term, so you could only see her during breaks and inbetween other classes. Right now you seriously didn't want to see her, though. She'd been pestering you about Levi's invitation for the past week.

"So it's decided, you will go." She stated, making you gape at her as you both stopped in front of the door for your next class.

"I never sa---"

"The tense, (Y/N), the tense is the key." Hanji cut you off with a cocky smirk and a mischievous gleam in her brown hues. Of course, she'd just forced you to accept. You had no choice - you knew the raven would probably remind you of it as well and you'd have to finally give him a proper answer.

"Shut up, Hanji." You glared at your best friend before she pushed you into the room.

"Now go." She ushered from the doorway while pointing in Levi's direction and you threw her a dirty look before stomping away. Less than three steps later he turned around and looked into your eyes, making you almost trip over your own feet.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly as the male took out his notebook and eyed you up from head to toe. His gaze made you nervous and your knees were about to start wobbling when he spoke up.

"So about my earlier request, which you've been avoiding to answer for about a week?" Levi pushed gently although in a you-don't-have-a-choice-but-to-answer way, making you avert your eyes to the other side of the room in hopes of seeming calmer than you were. You knew it wouldn't work that well, but you hoped to have at least looked nonchalant.

"... I accept." Was your brief answer as your eyes glanced at Levi's visage secretly and directed themselves to the floor right after.

"I guess I should be grateful?" He rolled his eyes at you, reluctance dripping from the sentence. You knew his face would be a bit softer even though you weren't looking at it. You were good at guessing by his voice (not that it always worked), so right now you acknowledged he was just trying to tease you.

"If I don't see Petra Ral giving you a blowjob afterwards it's going to be fine." You said mockingly with narrowed eyes, which just called for some fake concern on his side. Of course, he and Petra had not become official, but anything was possible. You held resentment for that girl more than you did for yourself - that was something deserving of a medal.

"That was uncalled for." Levi tried to protect her boredly as your eyes finally met his.

"Yes, you're right, but that does not change my mind on the matter." Your tone was firm as you walked towards your own desk, close enough to his so you could connect them and look at the same coursebook. He followed behind silently.

"Fine." He mumbled while watching you put your backpack on the desk. You started digging through the numerous notebooks and course books for the ones you needed currently, which probably reminded him of your little tradition to share a coursebook. "The coursebook?" He inquired, asking if you've brought it which was stupid because you'd never forget it (no matter if you were going to admit it or not, you'd always put it first in your backpack because it gave you a reason to be close to him).

"It's here." You announced once having laid it down on the desk next to your notebook and he got to work with pushing your desks closer.

"Thank you by the way." He mumbled once class had started and your teacher had entered the room. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked into his bright grey eyes.

"What for?" You asked quietly as he eyed up the exercise your teacher had just written on the board. He didn't look up again for the next three seconds. All you were given after that was a brief glance filled with something you couldn't understand before Levi's eyes were pinned back to the coursebook.

"... maybe I should leave you to figure it out yourself."

8. Grinning glimmer Happiness

The weather was calm, it was around noon and strong wind had been making the trees' branches bend mere minutes ago. Snow covered the ground all around, there had been a storm during the night and judging by the white inches stacked on top of the ground it hadn't been all that light. Now the sun was shining in the blue sky deprived of clouds and the air was cold and so still you could bet time itself wouldn't move until some wind blew by.

You fidgeted uncomfortably and stood in front of the wooden door of the small single-storey house, contemplating whether you should knock or run away now that you still had time to do it. Fate didn't really leave you a choice since just as you were about to turn round the door opened and made your eyes widen in alarm. You looked up and faced the person who had opened it with an insecure expression.

"... hey." You greeted after a small pause while Levi still processed your presence at his doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" His eyebrows furrowed and you drew your hands from behind your back, handing him the little box you were holding. The chilly air made your face go red anyway, so you hoped he wouldn't notice the change in its colour due to other causes as you talked.

"I was passing close by and I thought I could come and say 'hi'. So, hi, I guess." You smiled awkwardly, making him raise a thin eyebrow as he took the grey box from your hands. "And I bought this for you, but since we're in the middle of winter break I didn't really have a pretext to see you, so I might've created it... or something." You switched your weight between your left and right foot during your explanation while Levi stared at you wondrously.

"... for Christmas?" He questioned after a slight pause and you noticed he might've been cold judging by the way he only had on a plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"No, it's for your birthday. Happy birthday by the way." You smiled a bit, eyeing him up from head to toe again and starting to regret having come at all. You guessed it would've been better if you'd waited until the end of winter break to give it to him. "Um, I guess I have to go." You stepped backwards before he smirked slightly and a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes.

"And insult the tradition?" He inquired slyly as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion.

"What tradition?" You witnessed the flicker of his eyes to the doorframe above your heads and what you saw there made your breath hitch, something the raven was able to pinpoint quickly due to the chilly weather making every breath you took exit in the form of a white puff of smoke. Your eyes were still pinned to the object at the top of the doorframe. A mistletoe. "... oh. I'm not really sur---"

Before you had time to finish refusing the very generous yet embarrassing offer, Levi had stepped closer and cupped your cheek with his warm hand. His lips pressed to yours in a rather long, tender kiss and you felt yourself basically melting outside his doorstep. It was as if sparks flew about in your mind - just like the first time he'd kissed you. When his lips parted from yours and you opened your eyes, you saw his orbs glimmering so brightly it was as if he'd grinned your way.

"Thank you for the present, (Y/N)." He whispered, hot breath hitting your lips, and when he stepped back again you could swear he was mentally laughing at your frozen stance. You almost stumbled on your way away from the door.

"S-See you at school!" You waved, turning around and basically running away as fast as possible from the embarrassment, your boots crushing the soft snow under them down the path to your own home. You were a coward, but a happy feeling was bubbling in your chest, and God, for that look in his eyes you'd bear a lot more humiliation and possible snowstorms.

9. Foggy narrowness Arousal

Indecent. That was what you were being right now.

"You shouldn't have gotten detention because of me." Levi scoffed, grey orbs eyeing the empty room you were currently in after today's accident during lunch break when he'd gone to fetch coffee for both of you and you'd waited for him by the entrance even after most students had gone back inside the building because of the bad weather.

"And you shouldn't have been an asshole to a teacher to begin with." You scolded him back, your eyes, in turn, being pinned to his face and the desperate way he was holding himself back from looking at you as well because he was supposedly mad. You were leaning on the desk he'd seated himself at, seeing as the teacher in charge of detention was still nowhere to be seen.

"He was feeling you up." Levi said as if it would justify the whole situation and indeed, it did. You didn't know what you two were - certainly not an official couple anyway, but you were closer than before and now offered each other physical affection more often without as much embarrassment being present (although it still happened when you were all alone).

Your face went cold and that was exactly when he decided to direct his gaze your way - it was cold and sharp and you knew he'd seen right through you, almost immediately so. You'd been scared. Disgusted. Your fingers started fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and you averted your gaze to the floor at your feet.

"... doesn't matter, you almost punched him." You said accusingly and Levi rolled his eyes at your stupid excuse.

"I would've if we'd been outside of school territory." He declared and something in that sentence of somewhat sweet protectiveness (although expressed through aggression) made you extremely uncomfortable. You still hadn't told him anything about your feelings and he about his, you'd only gone out on numerous dates and spent an enormous amount of time looking at each other more openly - you rarely spoke of each other's feelings and you felt discomfort just thinking of the moment that would be needed for you to sustain this thing you had going on. You didn't know if Levi thought the same. You groaned in slight exasperation and turned your head toward the door of the room.

"Ugh. Where's the teacher in charge of detention anyway? We've been here for ten minutes now." You complained, wanting to talk of something else since it was obvious the raven had won this little argument of yours. Levi took the chance to stand up and lean close to you and when you turned back round his eyes were way closer than anticipated.

They pulled you in but weren't as sharp as every other day. When he leaned closer and kissed you, you got a hunch why it was that way. During the kiss, his hand placed itself on your thigh and his whole body hovered over yours like predator hovered over pray prior to the finishing blow.

"... the teacher can come in any second now, Levi." You warned firmly yet in a small voice once the raven had started kissing down your neck. You felt giddy because it was nice and wow - since when was that so pleasant? Your previous boyfriends had also done this, but with Levi, it wasn't quite the same - maybe it was him or maybe it was the circumstances and the chance of you getting caught by a teacher, but you felt extremely good, almost to the point you'd let it go further despite the way you were in a classroom.

"I'm aware." The raven droned from the crook of your neck where he'd been sucking on a second ago and you let out a sharp breath when his hand snuck under your shirt. His head lifted so he could face you again and his eyes were on your lips.

"Then stop." You kept playing the role of common sense even though this situation wasn't entirely all that dangerous. Levi's smoky hues were pinned to your own and you noticed they were more narrow than usual, like he didn't even want to waste energy on keeping them open but he just had to. For a second you thought the whole look on his face was something you didn't come across every day or even when you were alone. When he kissed you again it dawned on you why.

His lips pressed against yours felt soft and pleasant, his breath was made of tea and mint and it turned your mind hazy. You felt like half the blood in your body went to your face when his tongue invaded your mouth and his hands found your breasts over your bra. You felt the softness of his hair but were so out of it you were unable to open your eyes. Or do anything but kiss him. You couldn't recall feeling the same way during your make-out sessions with your previous boyfriends - this was a whole new sensation, a combination of thrill and something that made your face flush as your chest swelled with pleasant warmth.

"They won't do anything to us for this." He declared as if he made the rules and you had to blink a few times to come to your senses - your arms were thrown around his neck, your fingers were in his hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist - how long had this kiss been? He was looking down at you in the sexiest way possible and honestly, how could you possibly refuse that face?

"They can do a lot to us for what's about to follow." You worded warningly, knowing where things would go if you didn't resist even though a small part of you told you he'd never dare do it in school when it would be your first time together. You didn't listen to it, keeping in mind your all-time favourite motto that all men were pigs and they'd take advantage of any and every situation that provided it.

Levi didn't. He kept kissing you, left you breathless, gifted you a few hickeys to go home with and gave you a lot more of that sultry look that almost made your knees give out, but never provided you with legitimate proof of your motto's rightfulness and it was about at that moment when you were walking home afterwards when you realised---

If you hadn't been at school you would've certainly had sex and what was worse - you wouldn't have had anything against it had it been with him.

10. Calculating ice Thoughtfulness

"I don't approve of this relationship." You heard Levi take a breath from across the form of your father and his crossed arms.

"Dad, Levi isn't---" You tried to argue but were quickly shut up. It was seven in the morning. Thankfully, also a Saturday.

"Oh, he is! He invited you to that party and when you were so wasted you couldn't walk he could only think of how to park you in his bed! The next morning you call us with a hangover and this punk walks you here because apparently you've been together for almost about a year now but he still doesn't know where you live!" You frowned, not possessing enough bravery to speak against your father. Fortunately, you had your mother for that.

"James, calm down." She placed a hand on his shoulder as he grumbled in his armchair. You and Levi were seated on the couch, still in your pyjamas.

"I don't want to, Melissa! I don't like this boy and I don't want him around my daughter!" Even though it was a hiss directed at your mother, all occupants of the room including the aforementioned 'boy' managed to hear it. You looked over at Levi next to you, pondering whether you should grasp his hand or think up an excuse to let him leave before this became a full-on argument.

"Our daughter." Your mother's voice was firm and her eyes didn't dare leave your father's face to console you but you were too indulged in the look on Levi's face to notice it. Or in other words, the lack of a particular look on his face.

"If she's yours as much as she's mine then why aren't you worried about her as well?" Your father argued, making your frown deepen. The raven next to you had his elbows propped on his knees and his eyes staring at the carpet under his feet. His expression was devoid of any emotion - his face was perfectly relaxed with the exception of his furrowed eyebrows. His eyes were filled with thoughts you couldn't decipher, the usual grey now felt like frozen silver.

"I'm sure he means well, if they've been in a relationship for a year and this is the first mistake he's made, he can't possibly be bad influence." Your mother's voice was hushed but you heard it - Levi did, too. You placed a hand over the one he'd put on his knee. You could feel his finger tapping the fabric of his jeans as if he tried to tune everything else out and concentrate - he did that during tests at school.

"... I'm sorry, Levi." You whispered, bringing your face slightly closer to his. He didn't look at you. The ice in his eyes kept still, pinned to the floor. "Don't listen to him, I know just as much as you do we're both at fault." The regret was heard in your voice but the raven decided not to address it. He pursed his lips, then parted them.

"Maybe your father's right." His gaze was still on the floor. Still icy.

"He's not!" You raised your voice, briefly noting how your parents had stopped their own discussion and were now listening to yours. Your fingers slowly retracted from Levi's hand as he looked at you, face not changing in the least. You felt the gelidity in his eyes freeze the blood in your veins.

"Should we end this?" He questioned in a small voice - small but firm. Your reaction was immediate. Your expression hardened and you glared daggers his way, eyebrow twitching. You pursed your lips, forming a proper reply although a very big 'no' would work just as well.

"When it hasn't even started officially? I refuse." You spat, way more coldly than anticipated. Levi's eyes didn't soften, he was still considering this as a possibility. Your parents, however, were shocked. You grasped Levi's hand again, glare softening to a firm gaze instead. You attempted to make him change his mind - ten seconds were needed for you to succeed.

And afterwards, you swore, you didn't want to have to do it again.

11. Bright shine Love

"Your boyfriend's got quite the style." Hanji showed up during the break, linking her arm with yours and leading you down the hallway to your next class together. You raised an eyebrow at her statement, not so much as the person who was addressed in it - she'd started calling Levi 'your boyfriend' although he still hadn't confirmed your couple status. "Everybody's discussing it. The girls mostly." She whispered devilishly in your ear, smirking rather big.

Your brows knitted together in oblivion as you walked to your next class. It was a class you also had with Levi. You'd see what Hanji had meant in just a minute. Before that, you had to get into the classroom, though, and at the current moment, it proved a near-impossible task with all the girls in front of it.

Some had their arms linked like you and Hanji, others were pretending to walk around, third leaned on the walls and some just didn't put effort into being subtle - they were the ones standing at the very door and looking inside. Your face turned sour like you'd bitten into a lemon and you glanced at Hanji. Was this what she had meant? All the girls were discussing something, giggling inbetween phrases and shooting frantic glances at the door.

"Students coming through, I've a VIP package to deliver to the hot guy inside, you know!" Hanji called out loudly, making you choke on your own spit in embarrassment. Then, as the girls actually let you pass and stared at you in confusion, you made sure to metaphorically stab her with your glare a few times. She only chuckled, and then you were inside the classroom.

Levi was... quick to notice. He popped out amongst the rest inside, not so much because of the fact he looked good but because his no-white clothes policy had obviously taken over him completely as he'd been choosing today's attire this morning. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt, tucked into a pair of impeccably ironed black dress pants. The dress coat and shining shoes were touches that people noticed when looking further into it. And the glare he had on surely prevented most from doing it.

Hanji let go of your arm and pushed you in his direction, he was sitting at his desk, already having adjoined it with yours, and attempting to ignore the people around him. You walked forward, self-conscious because of the all-black dress you were wearing and how it would quickly draw attention. Had it been a coincidence for you to match colours?

"Good morning." You greeted once having taken a seat next to him. "You're the talk of school today as it seems." You tried making your voice nonchalant. The few gazes on your forms, dressed so similarly and sitting next to each other, was plain frustrating.

"And you're my VIP package." Levi stated boredly from the desk next to yours, looking up and into your eyes. He saw them widen as pink tinted your cheeks. You thought he wouldn't have been able to hear. "Hanji tends to be a bit louder than needed." He informed when you dared not address the topic yourself.

"I know. So, what's the occasion for your attire? Are you attempting another gothic phase?" You joked with a small smirk, eyeing his clothes from up close and admiring the way he managed to look good in all black. It made him seem a bit more grown-up, contrasting his porcelain skin yet matching the colour of his ebony locks. His eyes were a nice addition. If you didn't know him, you'd think he was a college graduate, not a senior in high school.

"The funeral's right after classes end right? I thought I'd come since you'll be representing your family all alone. You were telling Hanji on the phone you didn't know anyone there, so now you'll know me." His voice, indifferent yet soft, made your stomach take a warm turn before a giant grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. You covered it with your hand as Levi met your gaze and added: "You'll have to introduce me as your boyfriend, though."

Oh God. This was it. You knew Levi. You knew his expressions and his voice and his eyes. And they told you what you'd been waiting for - a confirmation.

"Sure, it won't be hard." You showed him your grin with a small shrug just as the teacher entered the room, having shooed away all the girls in the hallway. You quickly pulled out your notebook and the coursebook you shared with Levi for the second school year in a row, placing them in the middle of your desk. You opened your notebook and stared at the empty lines with a smile.

Hello, this is my boyfriend, Levi. You giggled as quietly as possible and Levi shot you a questioning look.

"Just practising." His features didn't soften but his eyes shone abnormally in your direction - they were tender and so bright it could've been blinding, but you found it mesmerizing. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt Levi's hand on top of your own. You bit back a smile. It wasn't a success.

God, how I love this boy. The realisation that followed wasn't even something that you minded. It just made you smile harder. Because somewhere along the bored lines and the bright gaze you could see he loved you just as much.

"So, what in the fucking hell are you reading?" Your boyfriend's question brings you back to reality and you blink at him for a few seconds before having collected your thoughts. You look back down at the notebook. The sentence is highlighted in neon yellow and it's giving you a weird feeling.

"Just... Psychology." You answer simply, contemplating the end and the beginning. From indifference to love. From glances to being together. From strangers to lovers. And now...?

"And it's funny because?" He questions and in return you snort condescendingly.

"Well, because it's so stupidly inaccurate tha---" You look up and the word dies at the back of your throat. He's looking at you with confusion, but under that, there's a silver layer of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. You gulp and laugh in spite of yourself, he raises an eyebrow. "You know what? I don't even know anymore."

"Are you okay?" He gets a hand through his ebony locks and you watch, as always mesmerized by the little gestures he performs.

"Perfectly fine." You give him a small smile as he looks at you expectantly. He knows you want to say something, that something's prodding at your thoughts. Spill the beans, his gaze tells. And you do. "Have I told you I love you?" You blurt out, borderline nervously. You feel weird but it's not because of him, it's because of the realisation that has dawned on you.

"Just yesterday actually." He informs casually and picks up his cup of tea. Only a tea-lover like him drinks it during the summer. Or a psychopath - it is yet to be decided. You eye him for a few seconds but pause right before responding.

"... good." You say with a soft smile. He meets your gaze and he's still clueless but somehow he's seen something that makes him utter a simple 'stupid' under his breath as he rolls his eyes. You say nothing in return to the subtle insult.

"So, are you going to next week's exam or sleeping?"

"The latter sounds tempting." You respond, making him snort.

"Of course it does."

"You?" You question back and his gaze meets yours, you feel the air of superiority around him and already know what he'll say.

"Yeah, and if I pass I have to wait for the winter exams." He explains boredly, twirling your pen in his hold as you close up your old Psychology notebook.

"Cool. I have to take it and two others. Then I can get some rest." You sigh longingly and he glares.

"And work done."

"Oh, don't bring it up." You roll your eyes and your shoulders sag in despair. Your boyfriend is not one to obey orders, he's usually the one to give them. His imperative gaze settles on your pleading one and he opens his mouth.

"You were the one who told me to start working on a fucking book. Better work on your own stupid paintings." He commands, making you groan in exasperation. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't be halfway done with his brick of a suspense novel, but if it wasn't for him you wouldn't be past your first painting. And you wouldn't have found a buyer for it. But now you have to do more paintings and you just can't figure out your muse. You've little to no motivation and the exams are stressing you out while your boyfriend sips on his tea and has the audacity to tell you to get your ass moving.

"Fine." You groan with finality, admitting your loss. "Sometimes I really hate your perfectionist ass, Levi."

"And sometimes I really hate your slothful ass, but opposites attract. That's what Hanji says right?" His grey hues glisten mockingly and you smirk.

"Often when you're mentioned, yes." You confirm, smug look melting into an affectionate expression as Levi grasps your hand and interlocks your fingers. "It's a little hot for that." You inform and when he starts to let go, you grab onto his fingers tightly and smile. "I never said you should let go." The pointed phrase meets only a huff as your boyfriend sips from his tea.

You meet his gaze and try to remember a time when you haven't been mesmerised by his eyes. There isn't such a moment. You become aware of the look he's giving you, your smile grows and your eyes soften. Three years later and he hasn't changed a bit. You catch yourself returning the affectionate gaze as a conclusion settles into your mind.

There is very little that can make you change your opinion on the matter of this stupid eye to soul connection.

Very little but it's there - efficient and determined.

And his name is Levi.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #reader insert #levi ackerman fanfiction #so basically levi has very expressive eyes and i love doing romantic studies on them #also highschool aus are my secret kink #they're just too fun to write lol #fluff?#a little bit of steam #i also love portraying the gradation of relationships soooooo #i hope you like it because it's 10k words lol #also sorry for any mistakes #i am a crackhead and i HATE editing

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starsstruck · 4 years ago

Text

cloudbusting; part four.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. horoscope readings, mandarin oranges, and star-gazing strolls.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 13k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: thank you for being patient with me for this chapter, i hope everything turned out okay ! a big huge thank you to the amazing tina @sunflowers-styles for helping me out and being the best beta ily ❤️❤️ as always let me know what you think and please share if you can ! i love to hear everyone's thoughts and comments <3 happy reading !

Sat comfortably on Mae’s couch, you were taking a big bite of the hummus covered carrot that you had just grabbed.

“I have some frozen perogies!”

Mae’s voice floated from the kitchen, both of your laziness to make a proper dinner was about to be satisfied with hummus and snacks before Mae started digging through her fridge.

“That sounds perfect!” You called back, reaching over her coffee table for another carrot. You could hear her shuffling through the kitchen, reappearing by the couch with a box of herb flavoured crackers in hand.

“I’ll put them on later,” she hummed, seating herself next to you while turning down the volume of the Fiona Apple that was playing through the speaker. “Don’t feel like cooking just yet.”

“How was the weekend away?”

Mae had just come back from a two-night stay with her partner’s parents, at their place out in Rochester. “It was good – honestly it was pretty nice to completely get away from everything, even if it was for a bit, and even if it was with Robin’s parents.”

“That sounds lovely,” you nodded, unable to help yourself as you kept reaching for more crackers. “It’s good you got to relax for a bit.”

“Work has been far too stressful lately,” Mae nodded. “Aren’t you getting some time off soon as well?”

You rolled your eyes, waiting until you finished chewing your carrot until you spoke. “I guess. It’s not really going to be relaxing for me though.”

She shot you a sympathetic smile. “It’ll be okay – if things get too bad tell me, and I’ll come over with some kind of emergency.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you laughed, not wanting to think about the reason you were going to be taking some time off work.

“Don’t think about that just yet,” Mae told you, a smile lining her lips. “How’s work going otherwise? Oh! Anything new with the painter boy?”

You bit your lips together, watching the bowl of homemade hummus as if it was the most interesting thing you’d ever seen. You knew Mae could read you well, and you knew that as soon as you averted your gaze that she’d be onto something.

“Something did happen?” She repeated the question, voice rising in excitement as you tried to hold back your little smirk.

“He ate me out on the floor of his apartment.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Mae sprang up, back straightening out as she turned to fully face you. “Last I heard you weren’t even sure if he was even going to make a move on you.”

“Well…” you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. “He did.”

It had been three days since you last saw Harry. You had your usual two days off, coming back to work just this Saturday morning.

After the little distraction from your painting session, you had pulled your dress back over your knees. And with starry eyes and warm cheeks, you sat up with legs pressed to his and your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

He had tugged you closer to him until you were practically sitting on his lap, muttering near nonsense against your mouth. “You’re unreal, you know that?” and “Sound so good saying my name like that, could listen to you for hours.”

Just the mere thought brought butterflies to your stomach; which was something you thought only happened to protagonists in romance novels.

You could still feel his warm breath against your skin and the sweet nothings he had kissed onto your lips.

“Was he good?”

Mae really didn’t need to ask; she could tell by the look on your face. You nodded, confirming her suspicion with a smile bit between your teeth. “Really good.”

“I love that,” she chuckled lightly. “Anything else happen? And wait, when exactly did this happen?”

“Few days ago – I went over to his to do some painting with him. I actually ran into him last weekend when I was out which was when he first kissed me.”

“What? You never told me that.” She mocked a pout, not actually upset with you.

“I haven’t seen you!” You laughed, always favouring to tell her things in person rather than on the phone or through text.

“I suppose…” she laughed. “Have you seen him since?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean it was only three days ago.”

“Do you have plans to see him again?”

Again, you shook your head. “No – I don’t know. I realized I don’t even have his number or anything, I usually just see him at my work.”

“You could always DM him,” Mae nodded, reminding you of the time you both had spent scrolling through his Instagram.

“That’s true,” you bit at your bottom lip. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wants or anything.”

You fell quiet for a second, still gnawing at your lip. When you thought about it, you really only ever did see him at your work and other than his art practice and what kind of coffee he liked to drink, you didn’t know that much about him.

“Did anything else happen?”

“No,” you again shook your head. “He said that we didn’t have to do anything more if I didn’t want to – honestly I would’ve returned the favour but things just didn’t really go that way.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

The wheels in your head were spinning. “Maybe he just wants something physical, I don’t know…”

Mae rolled her eyes. “Don’t jump the gun. By the sound of everything I kind of doubt that, he didn’t even get off.”

“I mean, is that weird? Maybe he does that – like in Sex and the City.”

Mae let out a loud laugh. “Life is not like Sex and the City, stop comparing yourself to that shitty show. Also, what does it have to do with anything?”

“That’s a plot,” you nodded, hating yourself for remembering all the awful plot points from the 90s TV show. “Charlotte dates this guy who’s like, notorious for going down on women and wants nothing else from a relationship.”

Mae raises an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” shaking your head, a small furrow in your brow as you actually couldn’t remember how the episode had ended. “It wasn’t bad – but it wasn’t good. That’s all he did – he wasn’t a good guy or something, I don’t remember. He only was in the one episode.”

Mae laughed. “Babe you’ve got to stop watching that show.”

“It’s entertaining,” you shrugged, fully knowing Mae also loved to indulge in the guilty pleasure with you.

“What does this have to do with Harry – your Harry?” Mae made the distinction, as if you would have only thought about Harry Goldenblatt, Charlotte’s second husband of the show.

“I don’t remember,” you muttered, bottom lip still between your teeth as you couldn’t for the life of you remember why it was bad that Charlotte dated a guy that only wanted to eat her out.

Snapping yourself out from the mess in your mind, you shook your head. “Anyway, sorry. Things are good, I’m just overthinking.”

Mae was quiet for a second. “Do you like him?”

You paused, already knowing your answer but being slightly afraid of it. “I think I do.”

It was two days later when you saw Harry again. With your usual Monday opening shift, the slow morning had you leaning against the counter flipping through the daily newspaper as you found yourself with not much else to do.

Playing with the paper straw that was in your third coffee of the day, you blindly brought it up to your mouth just as you heard someone walk through the door.

An older man with a red baseball cap shuffled through the propped open door, giving you a two-finger wave as he walked over to the counter.

“Morning,” he chirped, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter as you went to grab his morning muffin. “Nice day out, isn’t it?”

One pet peeve you had about your job, was the weather talk that every patron seemed to insist on having. They all loved to chat about the bright sun outside while you were stuck working inside. “Beautiful day.”

Grabbing the bill from the counter, your eyes flitted back to the front door as you were counting out the customer’s change. A familiar silhouette of someone else walking through the door had caught your attention, eyes widening a bit when you realized it was Harry who had just come in.

He had his usual canvas bag over his shoulder, light wash blue jeans and a white shirt with some kind of graphic you couldn’t see on it.

Feeling your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, you turned your attention back to the regular (who’s name you couldn’t remember, Bill or something) with the red cap and handed him his change.

Shooting Harry one more look, forcing the corners of your lips not to open in a wide smile while you moved to prepare a small americano.

As you watched the espresso pour into the mug, you willed your body not to flush at even being in the same room as Harry. You felt like you were thirteen, with a silly crush on a boy you’d only ever spoken to once. Except that this was much more real than a small crush.

You had never really felt this way with anyone before.

“Small americano,” you spoke not too loudly in the near empty café, your voice easily carrying over the sound of Françoise Hardy’s Voilà.

The red capped regular grabbed his coffee, pouring a generous amount of cream in it with a small thank you before he headed to his table near a window, ready for his breakfast with his book.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Harry having placed his things at his usual table and was tapping away on his phone. Cleaning out the portafilter, you wiped off the counter before deciding to head back to your coffee and newspaper.

It was not even a minute later that you felt a presence loom from the other side of the counter.

“Morning,” Harry’s voice was a quiet rasp, clearing his throat as you shot him a glance.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Hi,” you hummed, willing yourself to stop your flush at the memory of the last time you saw him. Hand reaching out for your no longer iced coffee, straw between your lips as you looked up at him again. “What’s your sign?”

Harry’s brow furrowed, a twitch of a smile at his mouth. “What?”

You motioned to the open newspaper in front of you on the counter. “Your sun sign – I’m reading horoscopes.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m an Aquarius. Are you reading all of them?”

You nodded with your own little laugh. “I like to compare them, plus I’m a bit bored. So,” your eyes skimmed over the newsprint. “An Aquarius hm?”

“Is that bad?”

You only hummed, finding it on the page and pausing before reading his daily horoscope to him. “Under today’s amorous skies, sometimes less is more. Resist the urge to come on too strong to a new romantic prospect. A star-gazing stroll through nature could be the perfect way to add a dash or romance to your evening. And who knows? Your nighttime adventure could even bring artistic inspo.”

A few seconds of silence washed over the two of you. Harry had his bottom lip between his teeth, unable to help the nervous twist in his stomach. The horoscope was just a bit too accurate, especially with who was reading it to him.

“That’s – that’s something.” He said after a moment. The bright sun made the little pink blush on his cheeks obvious. He cleared his throat, looking to change the subject. “What’s yours say?”

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice, a bit of a filler horoscope if you ask me.” You sighed, searching for your sign on the page even though you’d just read it not long ago. “Today is all about adventure. Today’s thrill-seeking skies get your engines revving. Expand your horizons, whether you embark on a cross country road trip or rent a cabin in the woods. It’s all about a change in scenery and spiritual balance.”

“Sounds like you need to seek some thrill.” Harry laughed, the words you had read to him about his own horoscope still stuck in his head.

“I guess I do,” you bit back a smile, closing the paper. “Did you only come in for readings today? Or maybe a coffee too?”

“So many reasons I came in today,” he shot you a smile, almost a nervous one.

“Well then,” you hummed, pushing yourself away from the counter to go start preparing a coffee for him. “Let me grab you a drink.”

He followed you, from the other side of the counter, to the espresso machine. After tamping the grounds and waiting for the shot, you placed a hand on your shoulder as you circled your opposite arm, feeling the ever growing knot under your skin.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smiled lightly. “It’s just my shoulder – I call it barista shoulder. Not everyone gets it, I think it depends on the way you tamp the espresso.”

You saw the confusion on his face.

“Tamping – it’s when you use this,” you reached over to grab the heavy tool used to press down grounds. “I honestly don’t know what it’s called - I think it’s just called a tamper? Anyway, you press down the grounds to form this kind of espresso puck.”

You mimicked the motion, twisting your body. “You need to use a bit of force so I got into the habit of using my entire side to push it down. Some people press just in the wrist or their arm. My old boss had the same issue as me – after years of the repetitive motion it kind of fucks with your whole side; your arm, shoulder, ribs, everything.”

“Your ribs?”

You quickly stopped the shot that was still pouring, having nearly forgotten about it.

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly with a sheepish smile. “I went to see a physio for it, I have two ribs that are a bit dislocated.”

“What?! You have dislocated ribs?!” Harry looked a bit scared.

“Partially,” you corrected, as if it made a big difference.

“Does it hurt?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nodded. “I try and stretch it out often, I even got acupuncture for it once. It’s more of a dull pain.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, a small shake to his head. “Dangerous work you do here.”

You only laughed, scooping out some ice from the machine and placing a few cubs into the glass cup, some espresso splashing onto your hand.

Placing the cup on the counter, you nudged it across in his direction. “For you.”

“Thank you,” his fingers reached for it, before sliding it a few inches before stopping.

“Oh!” He disappeared for a moment, quickly walking to his table before reappearing in front of you, all in the few seconds the espresso had been pouring for. “Brought these for you.”

He had two mandarin oranges in his hand, holding them out in your direction before placing them on the counter between the two of you.

You were so endeared you wanted to throw them at his head.

“I remembered how you said you usually forget to eat in the morning – actually I don’t even know if you like oranges. You don’t have to – well anyway they’re there for you if you want them.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, warming at the small action. You did in fact enjoy oranges; you loved the smell of them as well. “I love mandarin oranges”

“Me too,” Harry grinned, done with his rambling. “Love the colour too – actually I like the colour tangerine even better,” he smirked lightly, apparently not done with his rambling. “But I only had mandarin oranges.”

“Any citrus fruit really is divine,” you giggled, grabbing one in each hand.

Harry saw you disappear behind the espresso machine for a brief second, only the top of your head visible between the mugs, before you turned back towards him while wiping your hands on your jeans.

He held the small glass between his fingers, mouth dropping open to speak but nothing came out when both your attentions turned to see a family waiting for you to take their order.

You only shot him a little smile, grabbing the pen from your back pocket and moved to take their order.

Harry went to go take his seat, pulling out his usual workbook that was slowly but surely filling up with page after page of colourful sketches.

He thought over the words you had read out to him about his horoscope. He never was one to take that in a serious manner, quite frankly not knowing a lot about astrology at all. But he took it as a sign since you specifically were the one reading it out to him.

Finding himself sketching small drawings of stars and the reflection of the sky on the water, unable to help but momentarily flick his eyes up to the front counter every so often, where you would often be found standing.

He watched the way you asked a man about the book he was reading, the way the customer was so excited to share it with you. You had that effect on a lot of patrons, he noticed. You made them feel comfortable and welcomed in the little café.

With his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered even when you weren’t directly interacting with him.

Continuing with your separate tasks in the café for the next hour or so, as Harry didn’t want to bug you when a small line up never seemed to go away.

Walking up to the front after that line up finally did subside, empty glass in hand that he placed in the dirty dish bin, before he peered around the café as he couldn’t see you.

He finally did find you in the back room, one leg bent and knee resting on the stool. In one hand you had your phone held in front of you, attention drawn towards it. In your other hand you were holding a few orange slices, mindlessly chewing on them.

After watching you for a second longer, he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb any peace you had settled into.

You blinked while you turned your head, a slice of mandarin orange just placed into your mouth as you put your phone down on the table in front of you.

“Oh, hey sorry,” you placed your foot on the ground, orange on the table as you walked over to the doorframe. He could smell the orange on you as you neared him. “Just taking advantage of the lull.”

“No of course, didn’t mean to bug you –”

“– just wanted to ask,” he paused, leaning his hip against the wall next to him. He was only slightly intruding in on the space that was technically just for the workers, watching as you rested you back against the doorframe behind you with a few mandarin orange slices still in hand. “Are you doing anything Wednesday night?”

It was your turn to pause, eyes leaving his for a second as you chewed on your orange slice. “I close – otherwise I don’t think so, why?”

“There’s an opening show, my friend has a whole series in it. It’s at the same gallery that we work at sometimes, it’s just a tiny show but – well I’d love it if you came with me.”

Your eyes fell to his again. He could see a smile starting to grow on your mouth, corner of your lip between teeth. “What time is it at?”

“Starts at eight, but it goes until eleven. You don’t need to be there right at eight.”

You nodded, and although he felt like you were dragging this out a bit on purpose, he couldn’t help but feel a small pit of nerves grow in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” you hummed, voice quiet as your eyes darted over to the front counter to check for customers. “I’m usually done around quarter past seven – I can probably head over for eight-thirty? Give or take, depending on where it is.”

He knew he was smiling so wide that his cheeks were dimpling. “So, you can come?”

“I’d love to,” you returned his smile.

“Amazing,” the butterflies in his stomach flew away. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you the address.”

He watched you pat your back pocket, not finding the red pen that was usually placed there. Taking a second to check the back room, reappearing with a little scrap of paper and a pen.

He scribbled down the information you need, watching you fold up the little piece of paper and place it in your back pocket along with the pen.

“I have to head over a bit earlier, moral support and all, but I can meet you there?” Harry asked.

“Sounds good,” you hummed, excitement growing at the idea of spending more time with Harry outside of the café.

“I have to head out soon,” he spoke, “but I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, lips together as he bid you a little goodbye. Just as you were debating about if you should hug him, or say anything else, a group came in waiting to be served. As always, you were interrupted by other patrons. “See you Wednesday!”

The following two days flew by. That Wednesday evening, you were giddy as you closed, rushing through all your duties.

Closing with Saya took no time at all, and soon you were walking with a fast pace in your step to head back home. You knew you actually had plenty of time to get ready, but you were taking your sweet time and wanted the process to be relaxing rather than stressful.

You didn’t really know what one wore to a gallery opening. It was a small show; that was all Harry had really said. It’d probably be casual, so you didn’t want to overdress, but you also didn’t want to look too out of place.

After washing your face, you were throwing clothes around your room as you searched for what to change into. It was then you realized that Harry had only really seen you in clothes you wore to work. It wasn’t that you dressed poorly at work, in fact you liked to think you had quite a nice, casual style, but you still felt like dressing up just a bit.

You finally settled on a dark navy dress that had orange seams embroidered up the sides and around the hem. It was the kind of dress that would look good on anyone, that fit and clung to every dip and slope of your body.

Grabbing a nearly sheer black blouse to throw over your shoulders, slipping on your trusty white sneakers, hoping that you were walking on the line between casual and formal.

With a little beaded bag over your shoulder with everything you’d need for the night, you checked the time once more before heading out the door.

It didn’t take you as long as you thought it would to make it out the door, and finally you were double checking the address on your phone before being met with the red sign over the gallery and the glass double doors.

Smiling at the man dressed in a bright red blazer who stamped your hand, you walked through the open doored entrance. You immediately felt a tad out of place, seeing everyone chatting and talking and drinking and laughing – all together.

You let your eyes skim over the space, taking in the gallery. It was fairly large, considering Harry had described it as “just a tiny show”. The room was big and open, and there seemed to be another room that opened up around a curved wall.

Gaze jumping from person to person, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit out of place. Tentatively walking through the gallery, deciding to simply make your way around and hope to find Harry along the way.

It was when you were looking at a big dark painting, one that had different strokes of grays and browns across a large canvas, that a familiar voice spoke quietly to your left.

“Happy to see you made it.”

Turning around to see Harry, not realizing how close he had come up behind you. You had to take a little step back, the corner of your lips perking up as you saw his mouth already in a wide smile. He was wearing wide black trousers with a fitted simple black shirt, and orange converse sneakers.

“Sorry I’m late,” you spoke softly as he stood close to you. “Had a bit of an outfit crisis.”

Not moving his feet, he leaned his body closer to yours until the sleeve of his shirt brushed your arm. His shoulder bumping yours, he slid a hand around your waist so that it rested on the small of your back.

With a light pressure against your dress, he drew you in closer so your side was pressed against his. Feeling a puff of air as he exhaled hit the side of your neck, his head lightly dipped down until his lips neared your ear.

“You look stunning,” he murmured. You shivered under his touch, even in his warm embrace. Eyes darting around you, feeling a bit lost just in the moment the both of you had shared. You felt a quick kiss pressed to your temple, before his face retreated from yours.

You could feel heat spread across your chest along with a little flutter in your stomach that somehow made you even warmer. Momentarily not knowing what to say, you faced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

His hand lingered over the fabric of your dress for a moment longer, before it fell to his side along with a little step away from you. Although with your shoulder still against his, you remained close to him as you both turned back to the painting that you had been observing.

“What do you think about this one?” Harry’s voice was low in your ear.

You opened your mouth, not really knowing how to tell him that you didn’t like it one bit. “It’s very… beige.”

“I agree,” he hummed. A touch of his fingertips on your arm pulled your eyes away from the art, arm jumping just the slightest at the contact. With a loose grip of his fingers around your wrist, he was soon tugging you by the arm across the floor of the gallery. “I’ll show you the good stuff,” he said, keeping his voice low.

He pulled you around the curved corner, into the second part of the gallery. You immediately noticed the lights on this side were a bit dimmer, a warmer glow to them rather than a harsher white light.

“All these in here are done by my friend, Yanis.” He hummed, stopping in front of one of the large paintings on the wall with a light drop of your arm from his hand.

“I helped out with a few, but really it's all him.”

“You helped out with some?” You turned to catch a glance at Harry.

He nodded. “Here and there – nothing that big. He just needed a hand.”

“That’s sweet,” you hummed. You liked that, them helping each other out with their paintings. It was just all so uplifting and supportive.

Just as Harry’s mouth opened to speak, his name was called by a deep and unfamiliar voice to you. You both turned, seeing a shorter man with black curly hair in a bun approach the both of you.

“We were just talking about you,” the man spoke towards Harry, his eyes pausing on you for a moment before he turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Your name left Harry’s lips – introducing you to his friend.

“I’m Yanis. So, you’re the famous barista Harry’s been telling me about?”

You smiled at his words, eyes flicking to where Harry stood next to you and watched the pink tint the tip of his ears. “Famous?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Only famous one here is you, Yanis. The show looks like a big hit.”

You didn’t miss how quickly he changed the subject, but you turned back to Yanis. “It really does look incredible. I haven’t seen everything yet but I already like what I see.”

You mentally cringed, still feeling like a bit of an idiot whenever you tired to compliment art. You really needed to learn the right things to say.

Just as you were about to try and say something else, two more people joined Harry’s friend on either side of him.

“There you are!” A tall dark-haired woman spoke towards Harry. She was wearing a red shirt that matched her long skirt, with platform shoes and an array of necklaces. “I was worried you had left.”

“Just showing my friend around,” Harry spoke your name smoothly. You didn’t dwell on the way he had called you his friend, but it also didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh,” she turned her attention to you, while Yanis and the other man seemed to begin a new conversation. “Sorry, I’m Rory.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled in her direction. You saw her give your appearance a quick once over, and you especially saw the way her full attention turned back to Harry.

“Everything looks so great,” she spoke towards him.

“It’s all this guy.” Harry let his hand fall onto his friend's shoulder, giving it a little pat. “We were just starting to look around actually, so I’ll catch up with you lot in a bit.”

In a quick move, Harry’s hand was brushing against your lower back, and he was guiding you towards the wall on the opposite end. You felt his fingers bunch lightly in the thin fabric of your blouse, side pressing lightly against yours.

“Sorry –” he muttered, leaning a bit closer to you as the both of you stopped in front of a painting across from where you had been previously standing. There was a sea of red and pink mountains, along with a bright blue skin and big yellow sun. “Knew we could get stuck there for a while – wanted you to see everything first.”

You only hummed in response, a small nod in your head as you kept your eyes forward. Although you did find yourself so drawn to the art on the wall, you couldn’t help but let your mind spin and spin around until the words were falling from your mouth.

“Rory,” you murmured, bottom lip between your teeth, “she has a thing for you, no?”

You could hear Harry pause from next to you, “I – yeah. Well, no – we used to date.”

Only nodding, you kept your eyes forward although you knew Harry was burning holes into the side of your face.

“We still kind of run in the same circle – it ended a long time ago I didn’t –”

He stopped rambling when you turned to face him. “It’s okay,” you forced a little laugh to your voice. “I was just wondering.”

Harry fell quiet again, as you turned back to the paintings on the wall in front of you. “I’m really happy you came with me,” he whispered, lips nearing your ear after a moment. “I’m really happy you’re here.”

You turned your head around, glancing at him over your shoulder. He didn’t move away from you, hand on your back giving your hip a little squeeze before slipping away from your body. He hit your hand with his, letting his hand fall to his side.

The words he spoke were swimming through your head, having you bite your lips together to fight off a wide smile. Just the way he was looking at you made your knees weak.

“Okay,” you whispered, lips clamped together as you turned back around.

You spent the next few hours walking around, looking at everything, chatting with Harry’s friends. You had gotten along well with Yanis, he had talked at length about the series that was being exhibited and you were honestly in awe of everyone’s talent and creativity.

It was about half past ten and you were just heading back from a quick trip to the restroom, when your name being spoken had you looking around to see who it was.

Rory was slightly towering over you as she neared you, speaking your name again to grab your attention. “Haven’t gotten the chance to chat with you, how are you liking the show?”

Trying your best to hide the shock from your face, you sent her a smile as she stopped next to you. “I really like it – haven’t been to too many shows if I’m being honest, but this is for sure one of the best I’ve been too.”

“Yeah, Yanis really did amazing with everything – Harry too.”

You only nodded, not too sure what to respond in the moment. She kept speaking. “How long have the two of you been seeing each other?”

The question took you a bit by surprise, but at the same time didn’t shock you all that much. “Oh, we’re not –”

You cut yourself off, and she took the moment to speak again. “Sorry I don’t mean to put you on the spot, we’re all just a bit nosy about Harry’s life sometimes.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes narrowed slightly on her. “It’s no problem,” you shot her a small smile.

“Do you make art as well?” She changed the subject.

“No,” you caught Harry’s eye from across the floor of the gallery, “God no, I can barely take a decent picture. What about you?”

“Oh, sorry I just kind of assumed! But yes, I have my own practice. Mostly installation, plus some two-dimensional work as well as some performances here and there.”

Again, you wished you fully understood everything that was being discussed. “That’s so cool,” was all you said.

“Thank you,” she smiled down at you. “What do you do for work?”

“I uhm –” feeling somehow small for the words you were about to speak and a small pit of anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. “I work in a café.”

“She manages a café,” Harry’s voice surprised you slightly as it was suddenly heard from next to you. You turned, seeing him take a few more steps towards you and stopped when he was right next to you, facing Rory.

He was surprised to see the two of you speaking in the first place, a maybe the slightest bit worried when he saw the way you were slightly recoiling away from her.

“Oh nice!” She seemed a bit surprised from Harry’s arrival as well. “Sorry,” she paused, her eyes flitting over to somewhere behind you. “I just saw a friend I wanted to chat with before she leaves – it was nice meeting you!”

And then she was off.

You were quiet for a second, as you felt Harry’s hand brush over your middle. You barely registered the movement, bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a bit lost in your head – just the slightest offput from the conversation you had just had.

“Are you enjoying yourself?"

Harry’s voice pulled your attention away from your thoughts, shooting him a quick glance as his words registered. You nodded, a smile pulling at your lips as you saw his eyes never leave yours. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You fully turned to face him, standing in front of him. He saw your gaze flick between his, curious look in your eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he paused. Unable to help his eyes from falling down to your mouth, he watched the way the lightly shining lips were curved in a smile. “I just remembered something I read in a horoscope. And I was thinking … fancy a star-gazing stroll?”

It was your turn to pause, fully turning on your feet until you were standing directly in front of him. He could tell that you were trying to keep the smile from growing on your lips, but the gleam in your eyes immediately gave you away.

“I think I read something about that somewhere too,” was all you said, speaking quietly enough for just the two of you. The teasing tone of your voice, paired with the way your eyes seemed to glow more with every passing second sent a warmth straight through Harry’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?”

You let out what could only be called a giggle. “Yeah, it is.”

Harry didn’t try to hide his giddiness a single bit and sent a short nod towards you before he was again leading you through the gallery. With a quick stop by Yanis to give him a hug and congratulate him, and a wave on your part before he was pulling you out of the gallery.

He was a few steps in front of you, holding the glass door open as you stepped out next to him. This time, he didn’t try and hide the way his eyes fell to eye your outfit, eyelids dropping slightly with a smirk on his lips.

“Christ,” he muttered, joining you by your side. He watched the way you obviously noticed his stare, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “You really do look stunning.”

“You already said that,” you hummed.

“Needed to be said again,” he couldn’t help but brush his fingertips over the raised orange embroidery that went up your side. “Also, I don’t know if you noticed sunshine, but we match.”

Sunshine.

You glanced down his outfit from the corner of your eye. The dark hues of both outfits along with a splash of orange looked like you guys had almost planned it. “I did notice, actually.”

“I think that’s quite sexy of us.”

You laughed, following Harry along the sidewalk.

The air outside had cooled down a bit, still warm enough that you were perfectly content in what you were wearing but not so hot that your skin felt sticky.

Harry led the way through the emptying streets, walking so close that it seemed every other step his hand hit yours. He really felt like he had been flirting with the idea of grabbing your hand for what, maybe a week now? He just wanted to grab you, hold you close.

Hell, he had been a lot closer to you than that before.

Walking through a darkened alleyway to take a quick short cut, you shuffled even closer to him. You kept your eyes focused on your surroundings out of habit, even if you were trusting where Harry was bringing you.

It was then that when his hand hit yours, it didn’t move away like it usually did and instead his pinky finger caught your own and soon he was lacing every last one of his fingertips with yours until your palms kissed.

Harry kept his gaze forward, but from the corner of his eye he saw you shoot your newly intertwined hands a quick look. While revelling in the way that your palm felt in his, and in the way that every finger laced with his seemed to cause a tiny jolt to go straight through his body, he nearly missed the way you pulled yourself even closer into him.

By the time the water was invading your sight, after about fifteen minutes or so of walking in peaceful silence, Harry noticed the way you were walking so close to him your head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

He basked in the way you seemed to draw into him as much as he did you, and the way that you urged to be close to him and feel yourself against him just as much. The thought itself sent a new wave of butterflies straight through his stomach, clouding his mind as his pace slowed near the water.

Clearing his throat, he turned to catch a glance at you. “I remember you telling me how you like to walk along the river, but you didn’t get to do it that often.”

Smiling softly at the memory of the conversation the two of you shared after running into each other at the grocery store; you thought of that as the first time you really felt captivated by Harry.

“Is this kind of what you meant?” He asked.

You glanced around, seeing a wooden boardwalk start not too far off. “Not quite.”

Turning around and tugging him by the hand, following the expanse of the water until your shoes were walking over wooden boards that hovered above the river.

Your pace slowed even more, your hand fell from his grip as you glanced around and took in the sights around you. It was a relatively calm night out, no harsh winds upsetting the murky waters. The lights ended by the street, only a soft hue for the two of you as the boats docked out on the water were barely in sight.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out near you – then realizing that you had no idea what time it was, something that wasn’t often the case and something that you enjoyed a great deal.

The moon was high and bright in the sky, with the few stars that could be seen dusting the sky. It was for sure a star-gazing stroll, just as Harry promised.

“Looks like a painting,” you spoke from next to him, gaze out over the moving surface of the water.

Nearing the railing, the two of you took slow steps along the wooden boards. Harry laughed softly from next to you, the sound carrying in the empty space.

“Have you always been into painting?” You asked, eyes trained on the wood in front of you.

Harry hummed next to you. “I think so, yeah. I guess you could say I was drawn to the arts since I was young, I remember my mum bought me a little painting kit when I was like seven or eight.”

You nodded as he continued to speak. “Started a bit more seriously through school, like getting into techniques and stuff. But I never thought I would ever try and make a career out of it or anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Harry paused, hand pushing through his hair. “I actually studied marketing for a bit, thought I would go into business or something like that.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped past your lips, surprised by the news. “I’m sorry but I can’t picture you as a business student.”

“Yeah,” his cheeks dimpled. “Neither can I. Left after nearly two years. Then I started taking a few painting courses at a local art store and I’ve been doing just that ever since.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “And your family they were – I mean you made everything work out for you?”

He nodded again. “Obviously I kept a job for a while, I was actually working at that little art shop for a few years too. My family was okay with it – my mum especially was always supportive. I remember when I told her I wanted to leave school to work on art she said she couldn’t imagine me doing anything else.”

“I love that,” you hummed, biting your lips together. A small part of you wished that you had that kind of unconditional support. But you kept your lips together and pushed the thoughts from your head, not wanting to bring down the mood.

“I send her some of my paintings; take them off the frame and roll them up for her. Her and my sister flew out and came to my first show over here – even though I only had two works in it.”

Mentally giving yourself a pat on the back for having correctly assumed Harry couldn’t have been an only child with the way he acted. You really did love when your hunch about someone was proven right.

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled at him. “You must miss them.”

“I do, yeah.” He hummed, catching your eyes with his for a second. “But I am glad to have moved out here. I felt like it could be temporary – I would love to live in London someday but I’m really happy to be here.”

Only nodding, you felt yourself getting lost in your own thoughts for a brief second before Harry pulled you back out of them. “What about you, you miss home much?”

Shrugging, you didn’t know what to say. “I mean a bit, in the way that anyone gets nostalgic. But,” you took a breath.

“I know this sounds terrible but honestly I don’t. It’s… exhausting to be home. I moved further away for school for a reason.”

You didn’t know what else to say, hoping that Harry would jump in with something else. You shot him a quick look, seeing his eyes intent on yours as he listened and waited for you too keep speaking.

“That’s not terrible,” he spoke quietly, after a few more seconds in silence.

You hummed, not sure what to say. Walking in silence for a few more moments and taking another breath before you chose to speak again. “My parents live hours away from each other now anyway, so I feel like there’s not really a home to go back to, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice was soft.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m happy to have moved away – happy to be here too.”

Harry remained quiet, giving you the chance to go on if you wanted to. Although right now you really didn’t want to – you were having such a good evening and you didn’t want to bring any of that down by discussing your family.

Quietly walking side by side, with only the moon and the stars surrounding the both of you, Harry cleared his throat once more.

“So, what was it again that you like about this place?”

“Just the mood of it,” you shot him a glance. “Something about walking along the wood – I just really like it. And I like the smell too, I know it’s probably diesel and chemicals but it’s just oddly nostalgic for me for no real reason.”

“I see that,” Harry smiled. “So other than walking out here, what other small things make you happy?”

You were confused for a second, Harry further explaining himself after you didn’t answer.

“Just like, anything that could seem insignificant that you enjoy for whatever reason at all.”

“Oh,” you hummed, a small smile tugged at your lips at the question. You didn’t know why it made your heart soar that he was asking you about this – but it just did.

“This is really dumb,” you said after a moment. “But at work, I really like it when an older customer – they’re usually regulars – when they come in with their book and they get a coffee and a little cake or a treat and just sit there for hours.”

Pausing, not sure how to explain how you felt because right now it just sounded like any other interaction with a patron. “It's a happy-sad feeling – I don’t really know why. I love that coming into my café and having a chat with me is part of their routine, but there’s also something that just makes me feel the tiniest bit sad…”

Harry remained silent, letting you explain yourself. “It’s like, sometimes you watch a movie that has a happy ending, but you can’t help but feel the slightest bit melancholic, you know?”

Your eyes darted over to him, seeing him nod. “I know the feeling, yeah.”

Harry had never really thought about that before, never paying too close attention to the other patrons when he frequented your café. “You pay close attention to a lot of regulars, huh? I thought I was special.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as your shoulder bumped his.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” you teased, feeling his pace slow down, deciding to stop where you were. You leant up against the railing that kept you from the water.

“What about you?” You turned to him. “I know you said you didn’t want to share much about the paintings you're working on currently, but what’s something small that you like to pay attention to for your art?”

“I don’t want to bore you with every detail…” he started out, feeling like he had been speaking about his practice the entire time.

You shook your head. “I want to hear about your art – I like it.”

Harry slipped his lips between his teeth, head dipping down for a second as he felt his cheeks blush. “Well,” he started. “My current work is still very much in progress – not really ready for anyone to see or hear about it just yet.”

“But right now – or for the past year or so I’ve been really paying attention to moments between people.”

“Just … small touches or moments of intimacy, you know? Like seeing someone rest their head on someone else’s shoulder, seeing two people hug in a big crowd. Just small moments like that where you know that they’re in their own world.”

You were quiet, even after he was done speaking. Leaning your forearms against the wooden railing, feet kicking at nothing on the ground. You saw exactly what he explained – about the little touches of public, yet private, intimacy.

“I know what you mean,” you finally said, voice quiet as it carried over the space between the two of you. Harry has his back against the railing as he keeps his eyes on you.

After he realized you weren’t going to say anything else, he kept speaking. “It’s nice, you know? Seeing people wrapped up in their … love and adoration for each other like that.”

You hummed, his words swimming through your head. “Guess I never really thought about that –” cutting yourself off, before continuing even quieter, “– guess I haven’t really experienced it like that.”

Another wave of silence washed over you, before Harry turned in his place so that he could face you directly.

The reflection of the moon rippled in the water. “Have you ever been in love?”

His words caught you slightly off guard.

You had been in relationships, sure. You’d had partners tell you that they loved you, and maybe once or twice you returned the sentiment. But you didn’t really know what it meant.

“I –” you paused. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

You could just make out Harry’s expression. The lighting was sparse, but every little dip and curve on his features were clear as day, and his eyes held that little smile they often did.

“I know,” the words were too small puffs of air past your lips.

You held your breath in, before continuing. “I’ve always thought that I’d know, but I feel like I’ve never been in it in the way that you described. Not fully. I – I don’t know.”

The way he looked at you made your heart beat just a bit faster in your chest, so loud you were sure he must be able to hear it.

“It’s okay to not know,” he spoke so softly. You didn’t even realize you were leaning in closer to him until your knee bumped his.

“Have you?” You cleared your throat, the noise breaking through the otherwise quiet surrounding. “Have you ever been in love?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid of his answer.

“I think so, or,” Harry paused, a small furrow in his brow as his eyes were still intent on yours. “I thought so.”

This time, your heart stopped.

“Thought so?” Voice sounding a bit hoarse, you again found yourself afraid of his answer.

There was a small shrug in his shoulders. You couldn’t help but briefly think about Rory, about whether he was ever in love with her, but you shook the thought from your head.

“I guess… I guess I’ve been heartbroken before. I’ve loved, for sure. But I don’t know if I was really in love. If that makes sense.”

Maybe he really was just as confused as you were.

“I guess you don’t know until you’re really in it.” He had his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I guess you don’t,” you repeated.

What Harry wanted to tell you, was that he had never felt the way he did when he was with you.

He also didn’t know how to tell you – he really felt like he didn’t know anything at that moment either.

He was drawn to you from the first moment he had spoken to you, and found himself unable to ever get enough every time he saw you. It had been over a month and a half since he’d first walked into your café, since he’d first met you, and he couldn’t believe the way you made him swoon.

But he didn’t truly realize that, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.

So instead, he reached forward so that his palm could rest under your jaw and stepped a tad closer to you. He saw you visibly leaning in to his touch, your eyelashes hitting the top of your cheeks for a brief moment with a slow blink.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he whispered, voice low as his knuckles brushed over your jaw.

You nearly sighed at his touch, butterflies in your stomach erupting once again when he spoke so softly. He always seemed to be able to grab such a strong hold on you – both physically and metaphorically – but all while treating you with the gentlest of touches. “Of course.”

“I really,” he paused with his own sigh. Hand on your jaw sliding over your skin, grabbing a light hold at the back of your neck. “I really like spending time with you like this.”

Only able to nod, almost having to look away from his intense gaze. There was nothing else to look at though, nothing else you wanted to look at.

“Me too.” The words were barely there, just a pass of air from the back of your throat.

You felt his other hand smooth over your spine, fingertips finding your waist as he seemed to be blindly tracing the raised orange embroidery on your dress. Further leaning into his touch, you knew your eyes were darting all around his face as you were unable to focus on just one thing.

His own eyes fell down once more to the curve of your lips, and you felt them fall parted with your tongue wetting them on instinct.

“Can I kiss you?”

Nearly wanting to giggle at the question, as he had done much more than kiss you in the past week, and since the question seemed to be just a little late, but a laugh was the last thing on your mind right then.

All you could do was nod in his grasp, your eyes never leaving his – not for one single second. After a heavy swallow and a raspy little “yes” leaving your mouth, you let your hands fall to his shoulders to embrace him closer.

He pulled you closer in a quick motion, hand on your back holding you tight. Your chest fell against his, head remaining upright with his thumb still under your jaw.

Lips pressing against yours lightly at first, like whispers of a kiss against your mouth. He pecked two, three, four kisses on your lips like that before you edged your jaw forward and let him fully capture your mouth.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears when he fully pressed his lips against yours, with just enough pressure and desire to make your head spin. A little gasp escaped the back of your throat when he grabbed hold of your bottom lip between his, a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Lips parted together, never able to get enough of the way he felt against you. Harry’s tongue heatedly pushed past your lips mouth gladly opening for him. He grazed into your mouth, arm around you pulling you closer to him. Hot breath mixing together, he pushed your back against the railing behind you just a bit more so that his hips could press with yours.

His hand on your back had migrated, dancing over the curve of your bum before sliding around and giving your hip a sharp squeeze. It never rested in one place, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your body against his.

You returned his fervour, one hand smoothing over his neck until your fingertips were being pushed through his hair. Fist closing as you tugged gently on his hair, eliciting a little groan from Harry before he was licking into you once more.

Minutes passed, you had no idea how long the two of you spent like that under the stars and the moon.

He pulled away, barely, for a breath with heavy eyelids trained on you. His forehead was a millimetre away, loose curls brushing over your skin and tip of his lips brushing yours when he spoke.

“I,” he sighed, voice sounding so close to you as your eyelids just barely opened. “I – you’re unreal.”

His voice rasped slightly, as if he had just been woken up. The way he murmured quietly against you had your head spinning, thinking about how he would sound moaning your name.

Just as he was moving in to capture your lips with his one more time, a quiet buzzing was heard from somewhere. It took you a moment to register that it was your phone that was sitting in your purse.

“I think that’s yours,” Harry chuckled quietly, air hitting your lips as he spoke.

“Oh, fuck I’m sorry,” you pulled your arms away from him, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your bag. Pulling your phone out, you saw your brother's name flash across the screen.

You knew you should answer it, but you didn’t want to and he had already interrupted you. Declining the call with a text, telling him you couldn’t talk right now, you placed your phone back into your bag.

“Sorry about that,” you hummed, gazing back up at Harry.

“It’s not a problem,” he grinned down at you, a hand still wrapped around your waist. “It is getting late though, let me get you home, yeah?”

Waking up to a ringing phone wasn’t ideal. Especially early on your day off.

At first you thought it was your alarm, and you tried to snooze it. And then when it started ringing again, you slowly blinked yourself out of sleep to squint at the phone screen.

Realizing it was a call, realizing it was a call from your boss at seven in the morning, you sprang up.

“Hello?”

She spoke your name, seemingly relieved to hear you answering the phone. “I’m so sorry to be calling you, I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s okay,” your voice was groggy. “What’s up?”

“No one’s at the shop right now – no one’s opened.”

You jumped out of bed this time, double checking the clock on your phone to see it five minutes past seven. “What?!”

“I happened to check the cameras this morning, and no one is there. Do you think you could head over there to open?”

You let out a sigh, hearing the desperation in her voice. She was away at the moment, otherwise you knew she would do it herself. It was also lucky that she could check the security cameras from her phone, something you knew she did very rarely.

“It would just be for a bit; I can get a hold of someone else to finish off the rest of the shift.”

“Yeah I can go over,” you were already looking for your pants. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you so much,” she rushed through the phone. “Noah was supposed to open today I think, right? I’ve been trying to get a hold of him but not luck so far.”

After getting off the phone with your boss, you quickly pulled on jeans and a bra, a baggy shirt over the rest of your body before jumping to the washroom.

There had been moments where you had to get ready in a rush before, of course you had, it happened to everyone to sleep past their alarm. But the magic of the opening shift is that even if you were late to the beginning of the shift, it was always possible to get there before the café actually opened.

Today you didn’t have that pleasure, you would likely be arriving after half past seven at the earliest.

Mentally cursing Noah, you tried to the best with your hair you possibly could and roughly rubbed in some moisturizer into your skin before you were running out the door.

After a not so elegant speed walk down the street, you were unlocking the café doors and unfortunately leaving the door propped open for anyone to walk in.

And to your displeasure, people did walk in. You had a grumbling regular who was mad he couldn’t come in bright and early, you had a big family grabbing an early breakfast, you just had too many people asking you for things all while trying to open the café.

It was only after an hour that things settled a bit, that you were able to catch a breather and actually grab yourself a glass of water.

You were sat on the little stool in the back room, keeping your eye on the front counter in case anyone showed up. Updating Grace, your boss and owner of the café, on how everything was fine on your end and that you still hadn’t heard a peep from Noah who was the one supposed to open today.

It was just as you sent him one more text, that your name was heard from a familiar voice. You saw Harry poking his head through the doorway, both of your expressions mirroring the others in your surprise.

“Hey,” you sighed, running a hand over your hair, knowing you looked a bit a mess. Standing from the stool, you walked the short distance to the doorway as you leant up against it with your glass in hand.

“I thought you were off today?” He grinned dimples showing on his cheeks. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, I just – didn’t expect it is all.”

“I am,” you couldn’t help the hint of bitterness in your tone. “No one came in to open this morning – I got called in.”

You saw his eyebrows fall to a small furrow. “Oh fuck. How does that happen, no one opening?”

Only shrugging your shoulders, you took another sip of your water. You couldn’t help but gently shut your eyes, feeling your exhaust slowly overcome you.

“I don’t know. Can’t get a hold of the person who was supposed to open. I mean I’m assuming that they’re just still sleeping or something.”

“That’s shitty, and on your day off too.”

“It’s okay,” you shot him a small smile. “At least I don’t have to work the full shift today, just opening and I should be off soon, someone else is coming in to finish the shift. Did you want to get a coffee?”

“Uhm – if you were taking a little break its okay, I don’t need to –”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Stop that, I’ll get you a coffee.”

“Just to go for today,” he spoke, as you were tamping the espresso grounds. Nodding as you grabbed a paper to go cup, placing it under the portafilter and pressing the button to begin the slow and steady pour of espresso.

“What do you have going on today?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the passing seconds of the espresso pour.

“I’m actually headed over to Yanis’ place – a few of us are working on a collaboration piece together.”

“That’s so cool,” you smiled, sliding the to-go cup over to him as he grabbed a lid from where they were on the counter.

“What about you?” He returned your grin. “Get some sleep after this impromptu morning shift and before another week of work?”

“Oh, I’m actually going to be off for the next week or so,” you spoke absentmindedly. “My brother is coming to stay with me.”

“That’ll be good,” Harry mused from across you, having never heard you speak about your brother.

You only sighed, his words not really registering. “I guess.”

Not wanting to think too much about the week you were going to have to spend with your brother, you cleaned out the portafilter and tried to change the subject. “What are you working on with everyone?”

Harry was quiet for a second, eyes intent on you before he cleared his throat and answered. “It's all Yanis’ idea – he wanted a big collaboration but really, he’s the brains behind everything. We’re just starting today so honestly I’m not really sure what will come of it.”

“That sounds like it’s gonna be good,” you grinned.

“I hope so –” he paused, checking his phone, “sorry I have to head out. But I hope your day gets better and I’ll see you soon!”

You waved as he left, only a few more minutes into you were able to leave the café.

You physically felt your shoulders drop when you saw Aleena walk through the door. She had been scheduled to work today already, just coming in a bit earlier to give you a big helping hand.

“Thank you so much,” was the first thing you said when you saw her. “You are the absolute best. I promise I’ll buy you a drink, or dinner.”

She laughed. “No need for that, really. Should be Noah buying both of us dinner.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head. “He really should be.”

She clocked in, and you waited a second before speaking again. “Is it okay if I head out now? I can stay and help if you need me to but –”

She cut you off. “Go, go. I know you have to go get your brother later today, and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now.”

You could kiss her. “Really, thank you so much.”

You were rushing out of the café after grabbing your bag. You wanted to shower as soon as you got home, hopefully having the time for a little nap before you had to go over to the airport to greet your brother.

Just as you were turning the corner away from the café, a familiar outfit across the street caught your attention. You recognized Harry, nearly amused to see him still so close to the café. Your pace slowed down slightly, you were considering catching his attention or maybe just yelling his name across the street as you didn’t really have time to stop and chat once again.

Although any idea you had fell out of your head when you saw two more people with him, getting a better view of them as you walked along your side of the street. You recognized one of those people to be Yanis, and after a small squint you realized who the other person was.

You kept walking, eyes flitting over to the group across the street a few more times before you turned another corner and away from them. You knew you had no reason to be upset, or not upset, annoyed that Harry was spending time with his ex.

He had mentioned that they both still ran in the same circles, but you didn’t imagine that meant hanging out just on the daily. Or maybe not the daily, in fact you had no idea how often they spent time together. He had never mentioned her to you before, and you tried not to feel overly annoyed because you knew you had no real right to.

This just wasn’t coming out to be a very good day for you.

Trying to push everything about Harry and Rory out of your mind, you rushed the rest of the way home as you were slightly dreading the fact that in a few hours you were going to have to head over and greet your brother at the airport.

The first day with your brother was okay.

You were never that close growing up, for no particular reason. It wasn’t until you grew older that you realized you wished you had a better relationship with him, that you wished you could be like those siblings on TV.

He tormented you, in the way that older brothers usually did, but there was never a good side to your relationship with him. It got to a point where you began to realize that you nearly resented people for how close they were with their siblings.

Ever since your parent’s divorce, the two of you somehow grew closer and further apart. Closer in the sense that now it truly was the two of you against them, but further apart because your lives were in such different places.

He always knew what he wanted to do in life, and he was currently doing well for himself. He had gotten married already, and was living in a nice apartment that was also close to both your parents, much closer than you were.

He was going to be spending three days with you, his idea. You knew it would be bad to say no, knowing deep down that you needed to maintain a relationship with him. You loved him – he was your brother but you didn’t necessarily want to spend three days with him.

You always came out of any interaction – even a phone call with him – exhausted and anxious about the state your life was in.

Since you were going to be taking some time off anyway, you decided to give yourself an extra two days off just so you can have some time for yourself and didn’t need to jump right back into work.

“How’s Sophie?” You asked your brother about his wife, as you unpacked some groceries you got after meeting him at the airport. They had gotten married nearly two years ago.

“We’re good, she’s good,” he seemed to pause, sitting in your recently deep cleaned kitchen.

“Yeah?” You probed further, noticing his sudden hesitation.

“She’s actually – she’s pregnant.”

You nearly dropped the knife you had just grabbed. “What?”

He nodded. “She’s due next March. We’re really excited.”

“Oh my God –” you muttered, still in the headspace where when you heard when you heard the word ‘pregnant’ it was usually followed by anxiety not joy, even if some of your friends from college had kids of their own as well.

“Congratulations,” you snapped out of it. “That’s – that’s great! Congratulations, I’m sure she’s really happy.”

“Yeah, she is. We both are.”

“That’s great,” you repeated, turning back around and busying yourself with starting to prepare dinner.

He was quiet for a second. “How about you, are you seeing anyone?”

You very rarely shared details of your personal life with your brother, unless specifically asked. And even then, it was all very vague.

“Uhm,” you didn’t know why you were pausing; you knew your answer. The question was simple, the answer was just as simple – but for some reason the reality seemed much more complicated.

But you really didn’t want to talk about that now, especially not with your brother. “No, not really.”

You only heard him hum from behind you, before he spoke again. “Oh. You know I was talking with mom – you know she was younger than you when she had me.”

Christ.

“I know,” you only muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of getting upset over his words.

“All I’m saying,” he could likely sense your annoyance. “Is that I know you’re having fun out here in the city and whatever, but you’re nearly thirty.”

You spun around, unable to hide your anger. “I’m not nearly thirty. I’m in my mid-twenties – and even if I was, so what? There’s no timeline I need to be following.”

“I’m just saying” he put up his hands in defense, as if you had been attacking him unprovoked.

You had to tell yourself to not continue down this path, he wouldn’t budge in what he was saying. “How’s work going?” He said instead.

Again, something else you didn’t feel too keen on discussing with him. “Fine.”

“If you wanted to get your foot into something else, I can probably help you with something at my company.”

Your jaw clenched. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Seriously – even in the New York office I could help you out. You’d probably need to intern first –”

“I said it was fine,” you cut him off, feeling worn. “Thank you, but I’m okay with what I’m doing.”

Again, he only put his hands up as if he was doing nothing wrong. You willed yourself to not feel too angry over it, knowing that you were already mentally tired and if you kept speaking with him about this you might start crying – something he’d only use against you.

After a few much needed topic changes, dinner was ready and you were playing a show the both of you used to enjoy when you were in secondary school. You didn’t go to bed very late, making his bed on the couch before you headed off to sleep as well.

Only two more days, you told yourself. It would be fine – it was your brother and everything was going to be fine.

Settling yourself into bed, phone in hand as you tentatively typed in Harry’s username into Instagram. You found it quickly, seeing him having no new posts since the time you and Mae had looked over his page. Although, there was a little circle around his icon showing that he had a story.

Curiosity getting the best of you, knowing full well your own username would show up if he were to check who was looking at his story, you tapped on the icon.

Holding your thumb down on the single picture eyeing over the three accounts that were tagged in the story.

You paused when you read over a username that contained the name ‘Rory’.

So he had been spending the day with her.

You tapped on her username, watching the app take you to her account. It was a public page, with a pretty hefty following. You scrolled through rows of images, tapping on a few here and there to further inspect the posts. Most were about her art, some pictures of herself and her friends here and there but nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something woman.

Holy shit. You were about two years deep on her account, seeing pictures from a show she had in Berlin. You couldn’t help feel the slightest bit impressed.

Going over to her tagged photos, you scrolled a bit seeing mostly photos with friends and a few of what you figured were her art works.

The one that caught your eye, though, was a painting that seemed familiar to you for some reason.

Going over to the image, you realized why there was an air of familiarity to it. The picture was from Harry’s Instagram, a painting he had done of her back in early 2018.

His style had seemingly slightly evolved since then, but it was still very much him. The painting was of the side of her face, the setting around her not very defined so all the focus was on her profile. She was looking away, the side of her face painted in hues of gold and yellow that blended into her dark hair.

Green and yellow surrounded her, like she was outside during a sunset – it was a beautiful painting of her. The caption read “inspiration”.

You shrank back into bed.

The post was about two and a half years ago, it was in the past and you shouldn’t be overthinking it. But you felt small in comparison.

She had clearly been his muse, of some kind and the fact that he was still spending time with her just was sitting right with you.

You knew, a huge part of you knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You tried to think back to all the stomach fluttering and weak-kneed kisses he had given you, the way that every touch of his skin on yours felt so right.

You thought back to the other night, the nearly romantic conversation you had shared before he kissed any anxiety or fear out of you.

But still, a smaller but louder part of you was telling you that it didn’t mean as much as you originally thought it did.

The day seemed to be one thing after another, and just as you were about to shut off your phone and try not to cry because you knew it’d make you feel silly, your phone buzzed with a text.

Again, this day was just one thing after another. It was Grace, your boss, asking you to cover Noah’s shift tomorrow. He had taken the weekend off last minute, and his 9-3 tomorrow couldn’t be covered by anyone else.

Typing back an annoyed ‘yes’, this time you couldn’t help but feel truly upset. You were exhausted from work, honestly. You knew you would still have some time off, and Grace was so kind to you, but you were just. Tired.

#i would love to hear your thoughts and feedback ! <3 im honestly nervous abt this chap oops #thank you for reading ! <3333 #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic

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