#and I am curious bc I don’t really want to bleach my hair anymore

[reverie-starlight]

has anyone used arctic fox hair dye before ?

[prfctparis]

Red Jell-O and A Trip to the Healers

AO3 Link

summary: in which mace windu spends part of night with two of the most stubborn kids in the jedi order. if he had any hair, they might make him go gray within the hour.

a/n: ok so basically, lately my mind has been super duper focused on my star wars au (which exists solely in my head right now) where anakin doesn’t turn to the dark side mostly bc he has a little sister (aka my oc zariza) and other factors, and instead of rambling about that for paragraphs on end i’ll just say: this is a drabble/one shot thing that takes place in that au, but years before the clone wars begins. if you’re curious, and if i did my math right, anakin is 14 here and zariza is 10. but yeah, hope u enjoy reading this!

Master Jedi Mace Windu stares at the young girl with a carefully blank expression. The youngling – an initiate, no older than ten, if he remembers correctly – stares back, almost as if she is daring him to say something, which… Doesn’t surprise him. Not in the slightest. This is Skywalker Number Two, after all, and even though she is much quieter than her older brother, she no doubt causes as much mayhem as he does.

He just wants a snack. He ran out of them in his own quarters. Looking at the young girl, something tells him he won’t be getting the snack.

Mace refrains from sighing.

This is not how he thought his night was going to go.

“Initiate Skywalker,” he begins, hoping it comes off as a greeting than a silent reprimand. “What a coincidence it is seeing you here.”

Her dark eyes narrow the slightest bit. The expression simultaneously looks like Anakin yet nothing like him at all.

Honestly, though he is loath to admit it, sometimes he forgets the two are brother and sister. After all, they hardly look anything alike – different fathers, he remembers Master Healer Che explain to him and the Council members when they were wondering if they were actually related. Anakin has blond hair that is bleached light from his years on Tatooine yet now is slowly darkening with age, and bright blue eyes and tanned, fair skin, whereas his sister has wild and wavy dark brown hair that almost looks black with eyes to match, and light brown skin. She also has abnormally sharp canines for a human – no doubt a hint at whatever type of alien race that is in her blood; they have yet been able to figure it out.

They both do that damn stubborn chin tilt thing, though.

It can be…aggravating, to say the least, when someone is trying to get them to do something and they don’t want to.

Mace gives into sighing when she doesn’t budge. “Zariza,” he tries again, “what are you doing? It is midnight.”

The stubborn chin tilt stays. Kriff. “I could ask you the same thing,” she says.

“You should be sleeping.”

“…So should you.”

“Skywalker.”

“Window.”

Mace’s brow twitches. Okay. Okay, he can deal with a ten year old. He successfully taught Depa, didn’t he?

(Then again, Depa hadn’t been a child who was hell bent on infuriating him on purpose; she had also been thirteen, and the only chaos she brought and still brings are the occasional pranks on him and the jokes about his bald head; luckily the padawan drama ended with the beginning of her Knighthood.)

If only Master Rheba Toome was available – or Kenobi. They both have somehow managed to become the designated Skywalker Wranglers, as Master Koon had once said after an incident when a slightly murderous droid with a flesh eating plant attached to it got loose in the Temple last year.

An idea comes to him suddenly. “You tell me why you are in the Temple’s kitchens so late, and I will say nothing to your crèche master. I might even let you leave with what you came for–,” he doesn’t miss the subtle yet sudden jolt of suspicious relief, “–but if you don’t, I will take you out of here myself and speak to Crèche Master Aryn the moment we get back to your clan.”

There’s a long, tense silence where Zariza debates with herself in her head. So long that Mace wonders if he will have to repeat himself. Then, “Ani’s sick.”

That…is not what Mace had been expecting. He raises a brow. “He is?”

She nods, and points to the fridge a few feet away. “And he likes the red jell-o.”

“Is he in the Halls?” Mace asks, growing slightly concerned because Obi-Wan got sent out to a solo mission just the day before and Padawan Skywalker hadn’t been allowed to go. He didn’t put up much of a fight, which shocked yet pleased everyone. Now, he knows possibly why he didn’t, and that makes the situation slightly worrying.

Zariza opens her mouth, pauses, closes it with pursed lips, and shakes her head no.

“And why isn’t he?”

She shrugs, a bit defensively. “I dunno. Probably thinks he’s fine. He went to his lessons all day – Aayla tried talking him into going to Healer Bant but it didn’t work.”

Mace frowns with furrowed brows, but quickly smooths his expression when gets a sense of guilt and shame and a vague impression of an apology, though he doesn’t know what for. He kneels down without a second thought, and hates (that’s not the Jedi way–) how her chin is tilted down, eyes casted to the side, as if expecting some harsh punishment for…what? Caring for her brother? Telling Mace that he’s sick? If he was any less of a Jedi, the ones who enslaved the Skywalkers would be six feet under.

He makes sure to release the anger into the Force before speaking again; he will need to meditate later. “I am not upset with you, little one. Not anymore, at least. I’m simply concerned about your brother’s health right now,” he assures her.

Zariza huffs, still looking away, but she’s no longer tucking her chin into her chest. “So am I,” she mumbles petulantly. “S’why I want the red jell-o. He likes it.”

“So you have said. Can you tell me how he was feeling last time you saw him? Or in your Force bond, right now?”

“Uh… Sick.” A beat; Mace refrains from spouting a heavily sarcastic remark to a ten year old. “Um. He threw up once he got back to his and Obi-Wan’s rooms. Said something ‘bout being really, really tired earlier. He’s sleeping now.”

Mace hums, and stands up. “All right. Well then, let’s go. I want to check on him, and if needed I will be taking him to the Halls of Healing.”

Zariza frowns as she finally looks at him, but then her eyes travel to the fridge. There’s a silent question there. She goes to ask it but stops herself, and nods. “Okay,” she says instead, almost a mumble, and turns to leave.

He watches her for a second, glances at the fridge that holds the red jell-o, and then moves to walk beside her. “If I was sure it would not upset his stomach, I would let you take some jell-o to him now. But… Maybe tomorrow, if he is feeling better, you can.”

As she tilts her head to look up at Mace in surprise, he makes sure to stare straight ahead. “…Really?”

Mace nods. Then, looks down at her and gives her the barest of smiles. “Really.”

Zariza’s eyes narrow once again. “You promise?”

“I promise– but only if he feels better,” he emphasizes when she starts to grin. “No other time than that.”

“What if he asks for some and he doesn’t feel better?”

Patience, he reminds himself as they walk through the sun halls of the Temple. “Then ask Master Healer Che, or one of the other Healers.”

He gets silence as a response and he glances down to make sure she hasn’t suddenly run off. It’s happened before with her crèche master and Master Rheba Toome and Knight Kenobi – one could say she has a knack for simply sneaking off at the most random times – and he would very much dislike if she snuck away from him in the dark hallways. But, she’s still at his side, clearly thinking about something. Hopefully about what Mace just said and not about putting another flesh eating plant on a half working droid of Anakin’s.

“…What if there aren’t any Healers around?”

“There will be.”

“But what if there aren’t?” she presses.

Mace sighs quietly, hopefully enough to where Zariza doesn’t notice. “Then wait for one.”

More silence. Another glance. She’s still there.

“…I guess I can do that,” she says.

That is, well, kind of concerning. But better than the girl outright disagreeing with him, that’s for sure.

The rest of the walk to Knight Kenobi’s and Padawan Skywalker’s room is done in silence. Mace acknowledges the nocturnal Jedi with a nod, and Zariza shyly waves at the ones who notice her. When they get there Zariza let’s herself in, unlocking the quarters with zero problem, and hurries inside. Mace follows at more relaxed pace. He notices as she takes one look at the living area’s couch, frowns, and makes her way to the little hallway. Mace looks as well, and notices the padawan’s abandoned holopads for a few of his lessons, as well as just a general mess of the area that one would expect from a 14 year old when left alone.

Zariza speaking tears Mace’s attention away from the mess.

“Why the kark are you lying on the bathroom floor? ”

“E chu ta, Zari! None of your business.”

Ah. Huttese cuss words. Nothing unusual, but still.

“Watch your language, young ones,” Mace reprimands lightly, and makes his way to the bathroom where Anakin, indeed, lying on the bathroom floor.

Anakin groans. “Ah, chuba, why’d you bring him?” He sounds pitiful, so much so that it comes out as a whine more than anything. He’s sweating, too, and sickly pale, with visible bags under his eyes from where Mace and Zariza stand at the bathroom entrance. By the smell, Mace and tell that he’s thrown up again. None of is visible, so he’s sincerely hoping Anakin made it to the toilet in time and flushed.

“Because you’re a sick koochoo,” Zariza says.

“Language,” Mace says almost absentmindedly.

She huffs and crosses her arms. “I only called him an idiot.”

“I’m not sick,” the teen denies. It’s a weak argument. Mace can only raise an eyebrow. “And I’m not an idiot, either!” Raising his voice defensively sends Anakin into a coughing fit that ends rather quickly. He groans and curls into a ball, all the while keeping his face on the tile flooring.

Zariza rolls her eyes. “And I’m Jabba.”

Mace sighs and enters the bathroom. He crouches down to Anakin, and places the back of his hand on the boy’s forehead. He jerks away just as quickly, though that doesn’t keep Anakin from making a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. Mace’s lips form a thin line. “I think it’s best if I take you to the Healers, Padawan Skywalker,” he says.

“Nooo, I’m not sick!”

Mace shakes his head. “You are – you have a fever, Skywalker, and it’s best we take you to the Halls of Healing since Knight Kenobi is off planet.”

He mumbles and groans something indiscernible.

Zariza walks over and nudges Anakin’s side with her foot. “Do you want some red jell-o?”

“Kriff no.”

Mace almost tells them to watch their language again, but decides that is a fight he will have with them another day. Preferably during daylight hours and not at midnight when they were all supposed to be healthy and sleeping. Preferably, it won’t be him having such conversations with them.

(Truthfully, he loves the children in the Order, the Skywalker siblings included – but right now in his exhausted, slightly hangry state, he can only spend so much time with them.)

She hums. “What about tomorrow?”

Anakin stills. “…Maybe.”

The initiate grins and looks at Mace, clearly pleased with the answer.

He nods and gives her a smile of acknowledgment, then refocuses on the task at hand. “Can you get up and walk? Or will I be carrying you?”

Anakin gives another response that might as well be in another language, and Mace closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in slowly a few times, centers himself, and opens his eyes again a few moments later.

“Okay. Carrying, it is.”

Anakin hardly protests – well, he tries, at least, but it can hardly be counted as anything – and Mace picks up him with not too much difficulty; one arm around the boy’s shoulders, the other under his knees. As Mace leaves the rooms, Zariza follows and turns off the lights along the way, and even locks the door once they are out into the hallway.

And then she starts talking. Continuously.

It’s a vast difference from earlier, and it catches Mace by surprise. Quickly, though, it dawns on him that she’s talking for her brother’s benefit. From droids to podraces to Master Yoda’s swamp stew to the names of new plants she has learned about, and so and so forth. Something about the rambling must help, because Anakin relaxes more as the walk to the Halls of Healing goes by. So much so that he gives up on holding his head up and rests it on Mace’s shoulder, almost passing out completely by the time they make it to the Halls, Zariza tapering off about a holoshow she heard one of the older initiates talk about the other day.

“Master Windu,” one of the Master Healers, a nocturnal species, greets with a bow. Dark, large eyes focus on the brother and sister once they stand straight. “Ah, and the Skywalkers,” they say, playfully flicking their tail in Zariza’s direction to get a giggle out of her.

“Hullo,” she says, smiling up at the Healer.

“Healer Rou,” Mace returns the greeting. “I’m afraid we have a sick padawan on our hands.”

“Hm, yes I see,” Healer Rou says, and moves closer to rest a hand on Anakin’s forehead just like Mace had done before. They remove it quickly, though not as fast Mace did. “He definitely has a fever. How long has he been feeling badly?”

The question is aimed to Mace, but he looks down at Zariza for the answer.

Her eyebrows raise at the realization. “What? Oh, uh… Last night, maybe?” She shrugs, shuffling awkwardly. “I dunno, really, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, little one,” Healer Rou assures her. They pat her head with a kind smile. “It is okay if you don’t know.”

Zariza nods, relaxing a little. “He, uh, he’s puked a couple of times.”

Healer Rou hums, and motions for them to follow them. They do. “It is most likely a stomach virus of sorts, nothing too serious and nothing we can’t handle. It has been going around this month, I’m afraid. Padawan Skywalker will be the fifth one to have gotten it. I am assuming the plan is to have him spend the time here while he gets better? Until Knight Kenobi returns, that is.”

Mace nods while they enter a medical room, and carefully sets Anakin on the bed after Zariza dashes forward to pull the covers back. “Yes, it is. And Initiate Skywalker wants to give him his favorite red jell-o tomorrow if able.”

Healer Rou smiles, amused. “Of course. Come by at lunch and if he can stomach it, whoever’s rotation it is should allow it. Now; I have got everything under control from here, Master Windu – I will be sure to keep you updated, and will send a message out to Knight Kenobi letting him now as well.”

“Thank you, Healer Rou,” Mace tells them.

“Yeah, thanks Healer Rou!” Zariza exclaims, and rushes to hug the Jedi.

Healer Rou chuckles, hugging the young girl back. “Of course. Head on off to bed, now; we don’t need two sick Skywalkers,” they tease.

“Fine, I guess,” she sighs, far too dramatically for a ten year old that has both adults stifling their laughs.

But unfortunately, it actually takes ten more minutes to leave. Master Vokara Che appears, and speaks to Mace about how long Anakin might have to stay while Healer Rou pulls up Anakin’s medical file. Mace signs what he needs to, double checks with Vokara Che and Rou what he knows about any medicinal allergies he might have, and then leaves. Zariza sticks like glue to him the entire time.

Two steps out of the Halls of Healing, Mace stops in his tracks and picks her up after she yawns three times in less than two minutes.

“Th’nks fo’ helpin’, Window,” she mumbles into his shoulder with muffled, half asleep words.

Mace sighs, but smiles despite himself. He gently pats her back. “Of course, Zariza. Let’s get you back to your clan, hm?”

The answering soft snore he gets in return has him chuckling.

He hadn’t planned on his night to go this way, but he would be lying if he said he regrets it.

[okaybutlikeimagine]

PREVIEW: Will You Take Me as I Am?

i’m working on a fic for @biillys for something long overdue that i almost feel embarrassed talking about bc?? it was so long ago that the fundraiser has since been cancelled! have i apologized enough yet??? i don’t think i have!!

ANYWAY the title is “Will You Take Me as I Am?” and it was supposed to be super light and fun and happy and it will be but it’s also going to be angsty bc Quarantine is doing some Shit to me over here ~♥ BUT it will have things including, but not limited to:

- Billy, Steve, Max, and El bickering over music

- big long road trip to Cali

- stupid roadside attractions

- sunny summer days in San Diego

- Billy’s friends from back in the day (bc he had them and we need to talk about that!!!!)

- Max Max Max Max and Max bc Max is so good and we need to talk about her too

- Tony fucking Hawk

it’ll hopefully be done soon! this is just a super tiny snippet bc i feel awful for not having it finished yet and i need to post something or i’ll cry. so!! @biillys, i love you so much and hope you’re well and it’s COMING but until then, have this slightly sad but also heartfelt scene with our little Disaster Siblings! ♥

(title from California - Joni Mitchell bc DUH)

~ ♥ ~ ♥ ~ ♥ ~

Driving Max to school doesn’t set Billy on edge anymore.

“And it’s just so stupid because Cindy swears to everyone that she looks like Molly Ringwald. She doesn’t stop talking about it! Like anyone even cares.”

As irritating as it might be to hear about 9th grade gossip.

“And she still makes fun of my hair. Because it’s not the ‘right’ shade of red? What the hell?”

Billy smirks and listens vaguely and thinks about a few months ago. He remembers when the fall air bit him hard. When it felt invasive and aggressive and piercing rather than just present and embracing and knowing. The chill doesn’t hurt him anymore. The sound and smell of the farms doesn’t boil his blood anymore. The idea of Max having a life here doesn’t grind away at his memories anymore.

He’s laughing without hearing her. He vaguely hopes she doesn’t take too much offense by it, but the rest of him doesn’t really care. She’ll just hit him and grumble and he’ll give a vacant yet amused apology and they’ll continue on their car ride listening to Joan Jett.

Except she doesn’t hit him. His chuckles die down and the only sound through the car is Joan Jett wailing and Max tapping her fingers on her jeans.

It’s got Billy curious. He looks over quickly and sees her mouth moving- mumbling to herself.

“Telling yourself secrets or something?”

She glares, but it’s half-hearted. She chews on her lip and then she’s looking back down at her lap.

Billy’s just a little tempted to just let it all slide, but...

“Alright, what’s up?” He caves.

The quiet of the car makes Billy nervous. The air is whipping past them through the slightly rolled down windows, shoving itself into the absences of their conversation. Billy’s fingers start fidgeting with nerves and he’s on the verge of cutting in before she can get any words out, but then Max is speaking, hurriedly and with a furrowed brow as she says-

“How old are you again?”

Billy pauses.

“The hell kind of question is that?” He asks, looking over at her incredulously, confused at the question. She’s still trying to glare.

“Shut up! Just… you’re like… graduating soon… right?”

Billy raises an eyebrow at the road.

“No, Maxine.” Billy says with dripping sarcasm. “I love high school so much I was thinking of just staying there for the rest of my life.”

“Let me talk!”

“I am letting you talk! You’re just saying stupid shit!”

“Augh, you are so annoying!”

She’s crossing her arms now, and for some reason Billy can’t find it in himself to be amused by it. So instead he heaves a little sigh and bites his lip and waves for her to continue.

She sighs back.

“It’s just… my birthday is kinda close. And yours is like, right after that. And I was… just thinking. The other day...”

She trails off, hands fidgeting and head turned to the window. She doesn’t pick back up the conversation. Iggy Pop is howling through the radio, now.

“Thinking? Pretty dangerous thing to do when you’re-”

Max hits Billy with the hardest glare yet of the car ride. He concedes.

“Alright. What were you thinking about?”

The glare softens. Her eyes fill with worry… and nerves. Billy finds something vaguely reminiscent in them, even if it’s not exactly the same as in his memory. He knows he’s being a little shit but he hasn’t done anything to warrant fear... has he? He racks his brain while they sit in the silence she lets settle between them.

“I was just thinking about… well… remember that one birthday?” She’s had a few birthdays while they’ve shared a roof. A couple of them he’s purposefully decided to forget-most notably that first one. “When you took me to the boardwalk?”

That one he definitely remembers, with more color than most memories. She was turning 12- it was right before they found out they were moving. Things had been going so well. That birthday saw them walking down the boardwalk together to pick up some ice cream sundaes and talk about friends. Old ones and new ones. Gossip and interests. Max has mentioned that birthday a few times before- she says all the time it was the first time Billy treated her like a real person. Like a sister. He used to roll his eyes at her confession until he stopped. Because he realized maybe she was right. Maybe before that, “sister” wasn’t really in his vocabulary- not with a real definition and most definitely not with a face.

It was a nice day. They skated down the boardwalk and he taught her a couple of tricks on her board and he bought her something from the knick-knack store at the corner where the boardwalk met the street. She smiled at him genuinely for the first time ever. It seemed like they could be friends.

He chews the inside of his lip. He doesn’t like to think too far past that memory.

“Yeah, I remember.”

She’s fidgeting still. He wants to slap her hands to get her to stop because it’s making his leg twitch.

“Well I was just thinking about it. And… and… well…”

She’s picking at her cuticles. He winces whenever he sees her do that. He used to do that too. Used to bite at them when he was nervous, so much it’d make his fingers bleed. He’s stopped for a year or so now. She’s still doing it. He wonders sometimes if she picked it up from watching him and his shifty eyes. He can’t take watching her so nervous and he’s starting to feel on edge and-

“Spit it out, Max.” His voice is a little snappy, but he really doesn’t mean it. She sighs rather than glares.

“Are you still gonna move out to California?” She asks, all the words slurred together like they’re one but it doesn’t matter, because Billy understands them all.

He loses his breath for a second. When he looks over, he sees her eyes are screwed shut, but then she opens them and there’s tears there. He hates seeing tears there. Something squeezes his heart at the thought that he’s responsible again... only this time he doesn’t even know what he’s done.

“Uhm-”

“Like after you graduate.”

“Uh-”

A tear falls down her cheek.

“Shit.”

She looks down at her lap. Billy looks back at the road and has to hit the breaks hard when he realizes he’s about to run a stop sign. He takes a deep breath.

“Maybe. I dunno.”

“Take me with you.”

It’s sudden. He’s staring at her and she’s staring at her hands, picking at her cuticles viciously. It’s the faint sound of someone honking behind them that gets Billy to start driving again.

“Not like… forever...” Max says in such a small voice Billy is speechless. “Just for… a little bit.”

They ride in silence for a bit. They’re almost at school. Billy almost wants to stop the car because Max is going to cry and she’s gonna be pissed about walking into school while crying.

There are too many thoughts swirling through Billy’s head, some of them colored like a carnival, before Max is speaking again.

“I just… I miss home.”

It punches Billy in the gut. His memories fade to the sand and the waves and teaching Max how to break through the surf. He’s swirling down into thoughts of ice cream and babysitting her and walking along the boardwalk and telling her to make sand castles while he ran away with his friends. Tanned skin and sun-bleached hair and darker freckles blooming on their faces.

“It was stupid.” Her voice cuts quickly through the fog of memories. “Forget I said anything.”

“What? No.” Billy can’t forget. He doesn’t know how to answer but… but she’s crying and he’s not going to pretend like that’s not something he should be worried about.

“No, it’s stupid. You’re gonna be going with Steve. I don’t even know how I’d get back… it’s fine-”

“Are you trying to live with your dad?” Billy asks because it’s the only thing that makes sense to ask right now. She shakes her head vehemently.

“No no… I wanna live with my mom. I wanna stay here. I just wanna… visit, I guess…”

He so often forgets she’s still such a kid. She’s four years away from where he is. She’s four years away from being able to be independent. From having the ability to leave. They moved and Billy felt like he had been put in a cage. The word “landlocked” was the cruelest, harshest, most disgusting word imaginable to him because to him the only synonym was “trapped”. He knew it meant staying for another two years. He didn’t think about how for her it meant six. For her it was either plant your roots or let them dry out and crack in the Indiana sun. He couldn’t see that as he screamed at her back then.

“I dunno, I just miss it.” She says, but it’s quiet as she wipes at her cheek with the back of her hand.

Billy pulls into the school and picks a spot in the back of the lot, even though the bell is gonna ring soon and it’ll probably take too long to walk onto campus. She’s still sniffling a bit and his heart is squeezing tight. His chest is constricting. He’s watching Max right now and thinking about how the Billy he was a few weeks ago and even beyond was making a whole plan to just fuck off to California with Steve. How he didn’t even give a thought to leaving Max behind with the knowledge that he’d be back in the San Diego sun. He’d be back where the world made sense and she’d be here still shoving her roots in the ground to find some comfort.

Now suddenly he can’t imagine ever doing that.

“Well uh…” He starts, but his voice is bubbled. He clears his throat and tries again. “I still gotta convince Steve… I was planning on taking him just for a trip over there. Just so he can check it out and see if he likes it.”

He hasn’t even extended an offer yet, but she turns to look at him and the only way to describe her face is glowing. She’s so hopeful. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is slightly tilted up into a smile, open a little in shock. He just shrugs it off, even though it lights up his chest.

“I guess we can squeeze you into his fancy little car.”

“Oh Billy thank you.”

She reaches across the center console to wrap him into as good a hug as she can. He rolls his eyes, but he pats her back as he does it.

“Yeah yeah… chill out.” He sounds tired to his ears, pulling away from Max and getting ready to leave the car when-

“We should take El, too.”

“What?”

Max crosses her arms, suddenly looking pretty bossy for a girl with tears still shining in her eyes. Billy can’t say he’s exactly surprised at seeing her capable of that.

“We should take El too.”

“You just invited yourself and now you’re inviting other people?”

Her brows furrow.

“She’s my best friend! And she’s like... your sister now, right?”

“Yeah yeah, but-”

“I’m going to be there all alone with just you and Steve! I’m gonna need someone to keep me company while you two try to suck face.”

“Okay I get it-”

“Plus she’s never seen the ocean! She’s never left Indiana… she’s barely left Hawkins! She needs something like this-!”

“Al-right! Alright, I get it. I’ll ask Hop, alright?”

Max seems to let up, taking a deep breath and sitting back in her seat from where she was getting dangerously close to the edge in her excitable anger.

They sit in the quiet for a second before Billy elbows her and mutters: “Trying to guilt trip me, huh?”

Max shrugs, but she’s chewing her lip and picking at her cuticles and she’s giving Billy a side eye and-

“I just wanna show her around…” Max shrugs again, like she can’t think to do anything else. “It was my home too, Billy.”

She’s still picking at her cuticles and her leg is bouncing and she… she’s so young. He’s not sure how he could forget so quickly. She left a home behind, too. And family and friends. She left a lot behind. He always forgets.

“Billy…” Max starts, voice trailing.

“Yeah?”

There’s a small beat of silence where Billy waits breathlessly.

“We’re going to California.”

It’s a statement- like there’s no doubt in her mind that it’s happening. It’s going to happen. He hears her certainty and feels it too. She’s starting with concentrated eyes down at her lap but she’s so sure it looks like it hurts.

She sniffles and his heart nearly cracks. He rubs her shoulder kind of harshly and rather than a glare she gives a sort of grateful smile. That is, before she pushes at Billy’s hand and wipes at her eye and gripes about how “we’re gonna be late.”

Billy snickers.

[arckook]

around and around - five

pairing: cho seungyoun x reader, kim wooseok x reader

au: idolverse

warnings: none

wordcount: 4.6k

description: you’ve had a one-sided crush on your close friend seungyoun for who knows how long, but things don’t stay so black and white when he introduces you to his new groupmate kim wooseok.

next

Jamiezzz

*sent image*

everyone look at our baby seungyoun at this photoshoot manz looks a fool

Beoneon

I think hyung looks good though?

Hyunggu🤪

Hansol can you read the mood. She’s trashing Seungyoun-hyung because he actually looks good

Beoneon

Oh ya I see it now

Jamiezzz

y/n y/n y/n where are you 

respond 

dont leave me alone here with these boring men

You sigh, reading over the recent messages in your friends’ group chat. Shaking your head slightly, you set your phone down in your lap, watching through the large mirror in front of you as your hairdresser lays the bleach onto your hair.

“I’m surprised you finally agreed to going blonde!” she says, looking excited to do something more interesting with your head. You tend to stick with a darker look, because it’s easier to take care of.

“I just want a change,” you tell her, smiling. 

And it’s true.

You almost feel like one of those girls who has gone through a crazy breakup, and does something drastic to her hair to try and cope emotionally. 

You’re just not going through a breakup, and also not doing it yourself so you don’t piss off your management.

You glance down at your phone again and see a few more texts.

Hyunggu🤪

Boring? BORING?

Jamiezzz

boring boys can you tell me if it’s just me who thinks seungyoun and y/n are acting weird

this is a necessary callout bc its making me feel uncomfy

Beoneon

Do you have to make them feel awkward…

Jamiezzz

so you DO agree

Beoneon

I never said that

Hyunggu🤪

I agree

They keep ignoring us in the gc 

Whichever one of you shows up here first is not a loser

Jamiezzz

boy are you 12? tf kind of tactic is that

Youn

There’s nothing wrong. Sorry I haven’t kept up much with you guys the past couple of weeks!

Hyunggu🤪

“tF kInD oF tAcTiC iS tHaT”

You read over Seungyoun’s message a few times, your eyes drawn to his name, to his contact image. It’s one of the only pictures of him that you’ve taken yourself- from one of the first times you’d even met him. He put on these dumb sunglasses and pushed his hair all the way back and flat against his head. It looked stupid, but at the time you thought it was funny and endearing enough to set at his photo.

There’s nothing wrong.

For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to believe that he actually feels that way.

You still feel sick to your stomach when you think back to his expression that night, when you told him you didn’t want him to take you home. Not that you didn’t want to be taken home… that it was him that was the problem.

He’s probably confused.

But you can’t explain it. You can’t. 

“I think a more silvery blonde will look good on you,” your hairdresser chirps, cutting into your thoughts. “Would you be open to that?”

“Oh, sure,” you answer, knowing your voice sounds a little half-hearted. “Can you cut some layers too? I’m curious what that would look like on me.”

“Totally!” she says, folding up a foil. “It’s going to look so good!”

A few hours later, when your new hair is completely bleached, toned, colored, cut, and blow-dried into a flowy and shiny curtain of silver-blonde, you post a picture of the new look on your instagram, feeling a little better from seeing yourself look so different.

“Y/N-ah!”

You turn to see your group members, who all came from the dorm to get you from the salon so you can all get lunch together. 

Eunmi oohs and ahhs at your hair, running her fingers through it. “It actually looks soft!”

“That’s what happens when you don’t bleach the shit out of it like me,” Jiseo says, pinching a piece of her own hair, currently a faded minty green color, and cringing at it.

“Yeah, you should cut it, Unnie. Your ends look bad.” Soohyun says to the oldest, who sticks out her tongue. 

“Now three of us are basically blondes,” Eunmi pats your head. “I’m the only brunette left.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N won’t last long,” Jiseo jokes as she takes your hand, slotting her fingers in the spaces between yours. “She’s just going through emotional turmoil.”

“I am so not,” you mutter as the four of you start walking through the building towards the parking garage. 

“Y/N-unnie isn’t going through emotional turmoil, she’s just trying to look good for her new man,” Soohyun says, snickering even before Eunmi and Jiseo snap towards you, eyes wide.

“What?” Jiseo exclaims, and all you can do is glare intensely at Soohyun.

“That is also not accurate,” you grit your teeth as you talk.

“It so is,” she sing-songs, swinging her bag in front of her as you all keep walking. “His name is Kim Wooseok. Don’t worry, he’s handsomer than Cho Seungyoun.”

“Don’t say that about Seungyoun,” you tell her with a frown, but she just shrugs.

“It’s not like I called him ugly.”

“Isn’t Kim Wooseok his groupmate?” Eunmi wonders aloud, seemingly over the fact that Soohyun referred to him as your man. 

“Yeah,” you answer simply.

“Is that who you’ve been meeting up with the past few weeks?” Jiseo asks, which nearly makes you jump out of your skin, stopping in your tracks with wide eyes. Your leader glances over at you, a knowing smile on her face. “Y/N, did you think I didn’t notice you sneaking out whenever we had time?”

“I…” you trail off, a little embarrassed. “Um… yeah… I thought that.”

“Ooo-hoo-hoo!” Eunmi grins, and shoves you gently. “So it is like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” she says suggestively, and you smack her arm.

“No, it’s-”

“Y/N-unnie sends him selfies,” Soohyun adds, making you groan and the other girls ooh and ahh even more.

“Yah, L/N Y/N!” Jiseo physically grabs and shakes you, her lips pulled into a wide smile. “I know as a leader I should scold you, but this is great news. You can finally get over Seungyoun.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you whine, throwing your head back in frustration. “We are just friends!”

“Oooookay,” Jiseo hums, as you all exit the building into the parking garage. “Anyway, check out this spot I got. Someone was leaving right as we came in.”

“Lucky,” you comment as the car comes into view, glad of the change of topic.

The four of you get into the car, you and Soohyun automatically going to the backseat as you have done since the very first time you all went somewhere together. 

You glance down at your phone as the girls start discussing where you should go to eat, and are surprised to see another notification from your groupchat.

Jamiezzz

*sent image*

so y/n can post on insta but not respond to her best friends i see how it is😔

Beoneon

Woahhhh Y/N your hair

Jamiezzz

you can compliment but she’s not gonna respond😭😤

You sigh, your front teeth latching onto your bottom lip. 

You feel bad, to put it plainly. 

It’s not like you’re intentionally trying to ignore all of your friends… you just feel uncomfortable talking when you know Seungyoun will read it.

You

thanks vernon :)

sorry weve had a lot of shoots and stuff recently i dont have much time to be on my phone

Hyunggu🤪

She’s alive

Jamiezzz

wait y/n are you sleeping and eating :(

you were sick

You

im ok

Jamiezzz

take care of urself and ur new awesome hair girlie

You

sure thing

“Y/N-unnie,” 

You turn your head to see Soohyun looking over at you, her brows furrowed. “You look stressed.”

“...No,” you smile, shaking your head. You reach over and take her hand, squeezing it. “I’m totally fine.”

“And then they made me wear this,” you find the picture you’d been looking for in your camera roll and turn your phone around, displaying the bizarre outfit you’d had to wear for a recent magazine spread. “Like, what is that? I’m embarrassed that documentation of this even exists.”

“It’s not that bad,” Wooseok hums, taking a bite of his cake. He does it delicately, and with a degree of elegance, like he does pretty much everything.

You huff, turning your phone off and setting it down on the table. “Well, thanks, I guess. I’m still in shock though.”

“By the way, Y/N,” Wooseok starts as you dig your fork into your own dessert, lifting a sizable chunk of the cheesecake to your mouth. “Why do you keep asking for me to meet up with you?”

You frown as soon as the words leave his mouth, setting the fork with your cake back down on the plate. “What?”

He shrugs, but it almost looks tense. Wooseok avoids meeting your eyes as he talks, instead trailing his fork around on the plate in front of him. “We agreed on me not spying on Seungyoun for you anymore. That was the whole reason we met up and ate together, but you’ve still been contacting me.”

You lean back in your chair, regarding him with furrowed brows and teeth latching onto your lower lip. “I don’t… are you saying it’s bothersome to meet up with me?”

Wooseok’s eyes flash up. “I didn’t say that. I’m just-”

“Well it feels like you’re saying that.” you cut him off, grip on your fork tightening as you look down at the table. “You could have just turned me down if you don’t like seeing me.”

“You’re not a bother, Y/N,” Wooseok says, and since you can practically hear the apology in his voice, you glance up to meet his gaze. It’s one of the few times you’ve seen him truly frown. “I shouldn’t have said it that way. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t really know what you’re trying to say,” you mutter, looking away again. “I didn’t just cut you off after the ‘no more Seungyoun updates’ thing because I like you and I want to be friends with you. Sorry if you didn’t feel that way.”

“Y/N-ah,” Wooseok says, clearly trying to get your attention, but you ignore him, because you feel a little hurt. “Y/N-ah. That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay, then what did you mean?” you ask, knowing bitterness is seeping into your tone. 

“I just thought that… you might be trying to make up for asking me that favor in the first place.” at this, you look up, confused. Wooseok fidgets a little, which is uncharacteristic for him. “I could tell that you were feeling uncomfortable about it that day that I came to get you from Jimin-ssi’s place. I thought you might be feeling guilty, so I was going to tell you that you didn’t have to be.”

“...Oh.” you say. 

It’s quiet for a second, because as a somewhat emotional person, you need a moment to recover from what you thought was about to become a total betrayal of your friendship with Wooseok, and you think he might feel a little awkward.

After you’ve had a minute to contemplate what he just told you, you sit up and take that bite of cheesecake you’d been preparing before, looking at Wooseok with all (probably not all, realistically… but most) of the distress wiped from your face. “You’re kind of right. I did feel guilty about it due to certain circumstances, but that’s not why I keep in touch with you. I just like you. And it’s fun having a friend that isn’t friends with the rest of my friends.”

One corner of Wooseok’s lips turns up, in that almost smirky way that he often does. Subconsciously, you think. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“...Can you apologize one more time though? Because that kind of upset me for a second.”

At this, he chuckles quietly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

About twenty minutes later, after Wooseok has documented the outing with a picture of you and the food (he says he likes doing that because he can’t post pictures of most of his idol friends on social media) you leave the dessert cafe and head out onto the streets of Seoul together. You’re in a quieter area with a lot of parks, but since it’s nighttime, there’s not many people around aside from the occasional group of teenagers or drunk couple.

Eunmi is currently covering for you by having told your manager that the two of you went out for dinner together even though she’s actually just at her brother’s house, so you’ll have to meet up with her soon and go home. But for now, you’re enjoying walking around in the cold air with Wooseok.

He’s been quiet for a few minutes, though, and you’re considering questioning it when he finally speaks up.

“I know you said that day that you didn’t want to talk about it,” Wooseok starts, looking straight ahead as you two walk through a park. “But I can’t lie that I’m not curious. What made you not want to hear about Seungyoun anymore?”

You glance over at Wooseok, biting hard on your lower lip. You’re not sure if you really want to say.

He looks to the side to meet your gaze, and holds it. “He’s seemed uncomfortable too, the past couple of weeks. He was in his room when I got back after taking you home that night, and Seungwoo-hyung said he went straight there when he came back to the dorm. Did something happen between you two?”

You tug on your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your gloves, and look away from Wooseok, coming to a stop. “Not really. I mean, a little bit, but it wasn’t like…” 

You sigh, feeling without being able to see the judgemental look Wooseok is definitely giving you right now. “Basically, Seungyoun-oppa brought a girl with him to this get-together thing. I didn’t even know he was coming so it was kinda a shock, but she seemed nice and Jimin-unnie even said they were friends so I went with it. But this girl got me alone with her at one point and asked…” you sigh again, clasping your hands together. “She wanted me to pretty much do what you were doing for me. See what Seungyoun was saying about her, get him to like her and make her look good to him. I guess that… it just made me regret having asked that of you. Maybe it’s also because I was kind of drunk, but I almost threw up, too.”

“...Oh. I see.” Wooseok says plainly. You glance up to see his expression, expecting the judgemental look, but he just looks… concerned? “You never asked me to make you look good to Seungyoun, though. You just asked me to tell you what he says about you. Those are different.”

You shrug. “I guess. It felt the same, though. That’s why I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to anymore right away. And I really wanted to leave. There was no way I was going to be able to hang out with this girl after she told me that she’s in love with him.”

“In love with him?” Wooseok scoffs. “What’s her name? That seems dramatic to me.”

You crack a smile. “Her name was Sahee.”

Wooseok gives an unimpressed look. “Well he’s never even mentioned her, so I doubt that she’s that important to him.”

You shrug again.

After a moment, Wooseok continues. “So nothing happened at all between you and Seungyoun?”

You rub your arm, sending a grim smile his way. “Geez, you really want to know, don’t you?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets. “It’s just that I can tell something is weird between you two, and I don’t even see you at the same time.”

“Well, it wasn’t much,” you say, accepting your fate and just deciding to tell him. “Sahee must have told him I was feeling sick, so he came to check on me, and wanted to take me home. I told him I’d take a taxi… that was after I texted you. He was insisting at least on taking me downstairs but I didn’t really want to see him in that moment, plus it’s not like I was actually planning on a taxi, so…” you shake your head, sighing once again. “I don’t know. I guess I kind of hurt his feelings in the process.”

“If you were rude to him you should think about apologizing,” Wooseok says bluntly.

Wow. Absolutely no mercy.

“Yeah, I mean… I figured…” you mumble, crossing your arms. “I don’t really know if it was rude though. It was more like… uncalled for.”

“That means rude in most people’s vocabulary,” Wooseok says with a sigh, then starts walking again, which means you have to as well to keep up. “Anyway, he keeps being mopey so even if you don’t apologize, text him or something.”

“Can’t you tell him to text me first?” you mutter, not intending for Wooseok to hear, but you guess that he does by the glare you see him shoot you from your peripherals.

“No.”

You groan. “Okay, maybe tomorrow. No promises though.”

“You’re such a kid,” Wooseok says, but when you look over, he’s smiling. “Want a ride home?”

“You don’t have to,” you say, but he shakes his head. 

“Just accept. I’m avoiding going back to the dorm for as long as possible because Eunsang and Dohyon decided they wanted to host a ‘video game night’, and I don’t want my ears to bleed from the inevitable noise.”

You laugh loudly, already being able to imagine how much that would get on a lowkey person like Wooseok’s nerves. “Alright then. I’ll accept the ride home.”

You have a preliminary recording session the next day for your group’s next album, which is set to come out in March. Jiseo wanted you all to come in just to check out the current tracklist the company has agreed on and maybe start recording some vocals to see if it feels right.

You’ve been at it since the morning, and now that it’s lunchtime, you’re sitting in the room connected to the studio with the girls, who are all on their phones like you. You finished eating a while ago, and now you’re just staring at the messages you have with Seungyoun. You’ve never deleted his tab on your phone, so if you scroll up far enough, you’d be able to read the first ever text you sent him. Which was, if you remember correctly: “Hi Seungyoun-sunbaenim! It was nice to meet you :)”. That was the day after you were first introduced.

You sigh, setting your phone down and dropping your forehead to the table.

“What’s up with her?” Jiseo says with her mouth full. 

“Maybe you were right about emotional turmoil,” Eunmi muses. 

You lift your head up. “Do you have to gossip about me when I’m right here?”

“Duh.” Soohyun says, so you reach over and smack her arm (gently, you may add), which she whines dramatically at. 

“What? Did something happen with Kim Wooseok yesterday night?” Eunmi asks, and you groan.

“No, unnie. Can you stop trying to act like he’s my boyfriend?”

“No, I cannot,” she responds, sticking out her tongue.

“Leave her to her emotional issues,” Jiseo says, once again through her chewing. “Eunmi-yah, Soohyun-ah, let’s go back in since you’re done eating. Y/N-ah, just come when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, unnie,” you tell her honestly as she leads the other girls out of the room, Soohyun scrunching up her nose at you before she closes the door.

You grab your phone again and look at the screen.

It’s been a while since you last texted Seungyoun. Not since November. It hits you that it’s been months since you had a real conversation with him, and you feel bad all over again.

Hey :) I just wanted to say sorry if I was acting weird at Jimin-unnie’s house that one time. I felt really sick and I think the alcohol was getting to me.

You type out the message, but your thumb hovers hesitantly over the send button. You end up pressing and holding on delete until the whole thing is gone.

Oppa, sorry for being rude that night. I wasn’t feeling well. 

You read that one over a few times, and delete it too. 

Seungyoun-oppa, I can’t remember well, but I think I was kind of rude to you that day at Jimin-unnie’s house. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it

You bite your lip, and then in a sudden moment of “who gives a fuck”, just hit send.

And then immediately groan at what you’ve done. 

“Dumbass,” you mutter to yourself. “You remember everything.”

With a shake of your head, you get up and start gathering the takeout your group members had left on the table, probably thinking they’d just clean it up after. You throw everything that’s empty away, and then close up the containers of what isn’t done, stacking it in the middle of the table.

And then your phone starts ringing.

You nearly knock over the stack of styrofoam boxes it surprises you so much. You hurriedly walk back to where you were sitting, and pick up your phone, going cold when you see who’s calling.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your screen enveloped by that dumb picture of Seungyoun in the glasses. At least he’s just calling and it’s not Facetime.

You hit answer, unable to actually miss his call on purpose, and bring the phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Y/N-ah?” Seungyoun’s voice sounds out immediately, and the tension in your body skyrockets as you sit back down in your chair. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, I have a few minutes,” you answer, glancing through the window in the door to the recording studio, where you can barely see Jiseo and Soohyun with headphones on, Eunmi most likely recording some background vocals.

“Oh, good,” he breathes. “You… you got home okay that night?”

“Yeah, um, there were tons of taxis around,” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“Good,” Seungyoun repeats. “Were you really sick? Or did it pass the next day?”

“I think it was just the alcohol,” you try to reassure him. “I hadn’t drank for at least a month before that.”

“You don’t always drink like that, right?” he asks, then sighs, almost sounding a little strained. “It kind of worries me.”

“Why would you worry about that kind of stuff?” you ask, frowning. “You know I don’t get drunk easily.”

“Yeah, but look at what happened,” Seungyoun retorts. “You looked like you were about to pass out but you didn’t even want me to take you home. Someone in their right mind doesn’t act like that if they’re not totally wasted.”

You nearly let the words slip out: “There was more to it than that”.

But you snap your mouth shut before they do.

“I just feel like…” Seungyoun sighs again, sharper this time. “You never let me be worried about you. You brush it off every single time. It’s frustrating, Y/N.”

You’re at a loss for words.

Just... what?

“That’s not-” you start, then let out your own sharp sigh. “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing, though. You already have so many things going on, and I don’t want to be a burden, so-”

“When did I ever say that you’re a burden?” Seungyoun exclaims, interrupting. “You just assumed that! It’s like you want to be friends, but you don’t want me to actually care about you or be there for you!”

“That is not true,” you snap, your grip on your phone tightening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Seungyoun.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” he responds, note of frustration evident in his voice. “You haven’t been the same the past few months. You just haven’t.”

“Whatever,” you say, knowing it’s bratty. “You think you know everything but you can’t even see how oblivious you are.”

You know you’re edging on dangerous territory here, but the way he’s talking to you is making a frustration at him swell up that you’ve never felt before.

“Oblivious?” Seungyoun scoffs, a sharp laugh following. “Come on, Y/N.”

“What, you think it’s funny?” you question, hearing the hostility in your voice. “Did you stop to wonder what your friend Sahee was saying to me on the balcony? Did you even notice we were out there together before she went to tell you I was sick?”

“What are you even talking about?” he asks. “This isn’t the point right now-”

“It’s exactly the point, you don’t think you’re oblivious, but you were friends with her for years and never noticed that she’s in love with you!” you snap, your voice rising in volume over the sentence. 

Seungyoun is silent after that, and the sense of regret starts to seep in instantly as you realize what you’ve done.

“...What did you say?” he asks, his voice quiet this time. “Sahee told you that she’s in love with me?”

You don’t answer, but he must take it as a yes.

Seungyoun is quiet still, but you can picture him, wherever he is, throwing his head back, pushing his hair through his fingers in agitation.

“Fuck,” he finally mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice small as your throat starts to close up. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No fucking kidding, Y/N,” Seungyoun says sharply. You can hear his grit teeth through the closed sound of his words.

You breathe in a heavy breath, trying not to start crying even though you can feel the tears welling up. “I’m sorry. Oppa, just pretend I didn’t say that-”

“L/N F/N,” he says, and you stop immediately. “Just don’t.”

You sniffle, holding the phone away from you so he can’t hear you as the tears start rolling down your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” you hear Seungyoun repeat. “Fuck, I can’t believe this… all that time and she never told me?”

You hold back a sob, almost choking on it.

It almost sounds like he’s talking about you.

This is why he can never find out.

This is why you’ll never be able to tell him.

You let out just the first broken part of the kind of shuddering breath you take when you’re crying, and Seungyoun’s mumbling stops.

“Shit, Y/N-ah? Are you crying?”

You can’t find the voice to answer him, just trying hard not to openly cry.

“Y/N-ah,” he repeats. You hear Wooseok’s voice in your head from yesterday. Y/N-ah. That’s not what I meant.

“Y/N-ah, please don’t cry. Fuck, fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you manage to get out, your voice tight and thin. 

“No, it’s okay,” Seungyoun says quickly. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m just shocked, listen, it’s okay, okay? Y/N-ah, don’t cry. I swear I’m not mad.”

“I’ll hang up now,” you say, taking another shuddering breath. “Please don’t tell Sahee I told you.”

“Don’t hang up,” Seungyoun scrambles to tell you. “L/N F/N, please don’t hang up right now-”

You pull the phone away from your face and tap the red button, and set it facedown on the table. It starts ringing again right away.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Jiseo’s voice sounds out from the doorway to the recording studio. You look up, and she gasps. “Yah, Y/N! Why are you crying?”

“Unnie,” you whimper, wiping at your eyes. “My heart really hurts right now.”

“Hey!” Jiseo shouts into the other room. “Everyone get in here!”

She walks over to your, pulling another chair up and quickly wrapping her arms around you, the ringing of your phone becoming background noise. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

It doesn’t feel okay to you.

You are still in love with Cho Seungyoun.

And he will never know.

[insomniacimagines]

👋🏾 hey✨🌙Just wanted to tell you how amazing your blog is 😊🌙✨Could you write an imagine about Worick or Nicolas visiting a psychiatrist (Reader) and like falling in love with her/him? Thanks 🙏🏾😊💖

You’re too sweet, quit making me blush! 

I actually turned to my cousin to help me with this one since she’s a psychiatrist…

well I knew it was illegal but I wanted to get the specs, y’know?

So~ Even though I love you for requesting I’m going to make this angsty + I chose Worick bc I have another imagine to write with Nic in it

I’ve talked enough:

Worick falling in love with his fem psychiatrist:

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to listen to Dr. Theo… After all, Worick wasn’t one to open up about his past to anyone. The only person who had any notion of his pained childhood is Nicolas. At the same time he was getting more flashbacks and nightmares that took him back to his more youthful days. His hands would get clammy and he’d break out in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with harsh breaths. It was to the point he couldn’t even participate in his “other job”, even Alex had commented that he seemed lethargic… And that’s what brought him to this place.

He went into the room where his psychiatrist was seated and he swore his heart instantly melted at the sight of her. She was damn beautiful so just as he’d do to any women he fancied, he lifted her delicate hand to kiss it.

“Hello sweet thing~ The name’s Worick Arcangelo”, his smirk was wide as his eyes scanned her.

“O-Oh…”, she was at loss for words at his inappropriate introduction but what could one expect? Ergastulum was full of men like Worick Arcangelo… Just looking for another woman to take advantage of, no doubt. “I’m (F/n) (L/n), pleased to meet you Worick. Dr. Theo has told me about you before… I’m glad you decided to come see me.”

(F/n) cracked a friendly smile which made Worick feel a bit more hopeful that maybe his problems would be put to rest.

“Told you how sexy I am, I hope~”

“No, sir… But please have a seat…”

He did as he was told and that’s when the session started.

His stomach seemed to be doing a 360… He’s never done this before. 

What the hell was he supposed to do or say?

“So what brings you here today, Worick?” 

It flipped, he swore he felt his gut flip. 

Swallowing harshly he let out a hushed response.

“Guess I’ve been having trouble sleeping…” An almost panicked laugh escaped his lips.

And from there it happened… He started going back every week. (F/n) was helping him and he was becoming attached. Maybe more attached than he should be getting…

After a few months of visiting and opening up to her, Worick knew he was falling in love. He’d never been in love with someone with such good intentions but after all… (F/n) (L/n) was just his psychiatrist.

“Do you have a lover, (F/n)?” He couldn’t help but ask during one of their sessions.

“Worick, this is about you… Not me, but if you’re really curious. No, I don’t”

Bingo.

“How come?”

“Guess I don’t have the time… I’m really dedicated to my job…”

Which was something Worick found overly charming. She was sweet, kind, dedicated… And her lips seemed, oh, so soft. He wished he could grab her to him and kiss her with all he had.

That could never happen… 

A year passed and he could finally sleep soundly again. Even though it wasn’t required for him to come every week anymore he insisted on coming.

It was until the final ticking time bomb of a confession that was being pressured in his tortured heart went off.

“F/n?”

“Yes Worick?” Her soft eyes met his.

She had his heart in her hands. Hell, he’s even quit his “other job” as a result of the guilt that drowned him whenever he thought of how pure his sweet (F/n) was.

“I love you… I have for quite sometime. No one has helped me like you have and I’m forever indebted to you. I want you to be mine…” His voice was peppered with a sincerity he almost never speaks with. It felt so foreign but so right in this moment and all the sincerest moments he’s had with his dear (F/n)

But right now, (F/n) felt her throat run dry. Never in her years of working in this field did she imagine this happening.

A client in love with his psychiatrist?

Sure, it happened sometimes but she never expected this fate to land on her shoulders.

“Worick.. You know I don’t feel the same way… You’re my client… It’s my job to help you…”

“I know.” 

Oh, his tormented heart sank. It hit rock bottom and bled profusely. Happiness was just so far from him. He just wanted her love…

The room fell into a desolate silence that made Worick’s heart beat so obnoxiously.

With that he got up and left. He wasn’t welcome in her heart and there was nothing he could do. 

He never went back and (F/n) couldn’t lie to herself and say that over the next few months she didn’t miss him

His random cringey flirtatious remarks?

She wanted them back.

The way he’d play with his hair when he got nervous about talking about something so dark of his past?

She wanted to see that again.

She wanted that honey smooth voice that dabbled outside of his usual playful ways and became bleached with honesty only when he was with her.

But in the end…

Worick Arcangelo was never looking her way ever again.

Hi… My heart is hurting now…

I bombarded my cousin with questions during this while crying and choking on my chicken tenders

Thanks Laggo for helping me!

I love a gigolo

I hope you enjoyed it! Request again soon!

~Lunar