#and it took literally over 10 years to feel safe in a vulnerable close friendship and you bought matching necklaces about it

[latenightdecaf]

Entry 7 - Summer of Vulnerability

part of let the pile of good things grow series - series masterlist

previous entry here

Yoongi x reader

Ft. nonidol!bts (glimpse of ex-boyfriend!namjoon)

Producer!yoongi, roommate!yoongi, soft!yoongi

slow burn romance, friendship, slice of life

series of drabbles/one shots

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: okay so here goes y/n remembering his ex!joon also will never get over of in the soop yoongi! can’t wait for the new season. Thank you guys for reading! 🙈

word count: 2,546

Went home from the grocery and some of their wines are on sale so you got carried away and bought 8 bottles and to your surprise, Yoongi’s cooking steak. “oh my God!” You exclaimed as soon as you saw him cooking in the kitchen with paperbag of wines in your arms. Yoongi looked at you with a confused face.

“Did you just read my mind or what??! There’s a sale on the corner deli and…” raising both of your hands as if surrendering, “okay don’t judge me yet but i got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? You looked like the world’s going to run out of wine tomorrow.”

He smiled on your disclaimer and shaking his head as he paid his attention back to his steak.

“No.” You sighed. “Nothing went my way today, not at all—but i dont want to think about it. I’m psyching myself out of it you see, or better yet i’m drowning myself on these babies.” As you drank your first glass empty. “My eternal companion, the love of my life…”

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

He turned to your direction, only to see you hugging the bottles of wine that you bought.

“Come on clear the tables, your babies are not going anywhere.” He declared as he puts down 3 steaks and some aglio olio with honestly way too much garlic because it’s Yoongi.

“I didn’t saw you made pasta also. I am so happy now.” You happily exclaimed as you took a bite of your new favorite steak. “But why the 3 steaks? You hungry?”

He sat in front of you, filling your glass with wine and his too.

“You need food before you chug them all up. I’m not gonna clean up your mess. So you better get it together today. I tell you.” He scolded you.

“Sure sure.” As you immediately devour the pasta he made.

One bottle of wine down. He let you listened to a ‘sketch’ he’s been working on lately. Carefully studying your already flushed face for any reaction. He does this sometimes, ask for your opinion even though you have zero idea about music and producing or anything related to that for that matter.

All he considers is whether you winced at the melody of it, or you nod and eventually smile as it goes. But this time you’re just staring blankly in your wine glass, circling it repeatedly as the sketch ended at exactly 2 mins and 19 secs. And when it ended you looked straight at him.

“This looks like it’s almost done right?” You commented. “Yeah.” As he gulps on his wine, emptying another glass.

“And you wrote the lyrics also?” He nodded.

You looked away and sighed. “It’s too beautiful—Sad and in pain, feels tormented also but beautiful.”

He blinked several times at your words. You’ve heard several of his sketches before and you’d just always say, ‘it sounds good, but Yoongi—i have no idea about music. Zero.’ But he’d let you hear it anyway for couple more times and he’d smile at your ignorant reactions.

This time however, doesn’t seem like a laughing matter. Something about your words got his heart beating faster and he has no idea if its just the amount of alcohol he has consumed by now or just you.

You clinked on his empty glass. And asked, “You want more?” He nodded. And you poured him another. “Remember the girl, I introduced to you before?” You stopped and think for a second and it dawned to you. “Hell yeah, I remember.”

“She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.” He declared.

“Well that I did not expected. The ex part. I can tell though she looks really special.”

“Well, we’re together for a while. But now we’re just co-workers for this debut song of a girl I told you about before. That’s why she was here also the last time, we were looking through old sketches that I have after the meeting. We actually finished that quite early. ”

He never really talked that much about himself. He’s good at talking about work, which for you is already more than enough. You know that despite your living situation, he’s not really obligated to get personal if he doesnt want to. And besides, you also don’t want to. Your end of the rope for sure is scared of any form of vulnerability anyway—so you’re not expecting or demanding that from anybody else.

“So you’re just co-workers now?”

“Yeah, I think so. I really don’t know what I feel.”

“Well, relationships are messy my friend.” Raising your glass of wine as if to cheers and chugging it in one go.

Not sure of what to say next but he looks like he’s in mood to talk but the topic looks too sensitive to even crack a joke so you continued drinking despite the eerie atmosphere.

“If you dont mind me asking, what happened?” Yes, despite your immense effort to hold yourself back. Like any other novel you read, you have this eager feeling to know how it ends. Your mind is literally shouting, ‘But I gots to know!!’

And so you asked. Half fearing for your life for being too nosy and half expecting that you might be up for a good story. Elbows resting on the table, with your chin at the palm of your hand looking eager to hear the story.

“We’ve been together for a while”

“Yeah, you said that already.. and that she’s a song writer. I figured.” Unconsciously saying your thoughts out loud.

“You wanna tell the story instead?” He teasingly reacted in a straight face.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud… I literally said that in my mind and my mouth just burst it open. They both can’t coordinate that well. I’m sorry. You may continue…sir. Please don’t cut my head off.” You love teasing him.

“You’re drunk.” He was pointing out the obvious by that time, after two bottles of wine.

“Yes she’s a songwriter. They said before thay she’s the words to my melody. Well… before.”

Something about those words just made your heart ache. Frowning in his words you continue to listen.

“We’re together for about 2 years? And then on and off after…. She cheated on me, slept with another producer from another company. I really thought that was the end but after that i still accepted her. I don’t know why.”

“Aigoo you dumbass solider of love. And then??” Continuously frowning in frustration led you to keep on drinking.

He has no plans of actually telling this story tonight, it just poured out. You’re just one of those people that actually listens. He has seen you before, how intensely you focus on a movie or in a book that it bothers you for day. You love hearing stories and your willingness felt like a safe space for his unspoken scars.

“She keeps coming back to me and I keep accepting her. That’s it.”

With a confused look on your face, “I don’t get it.”

“Like you said, relationships are messy.” He’s obviously trying to close the topic already but that’s not going to stop you—you never stop midway of the story. This is not how it ends.

“Messy is one thing, toxic is another. And since when are you a coward? You don’t strike me as one. Really.” ‘Yeah i was.’ Yoongi thought in his head. Words are just literally pouring out of your mouth by now, drowning yet another glass. Yoongi opening your forth bottle.

“Boy, I bought the wrong alcohol tonight, tequila would’ve been perfect.” You declared as he pours you a refill. He laughed at this comment, he kept wondering sometimes how easy it is for you to make him laugh.

“No but all kidding aside… Hard question coming in, Min Yoongi. Do you still love her?” Looking right at his eyes and him staring back at you as he answered. “No, we broke up a month before I moved in here.”

‘That’s quite a while, at least 9 or 10 months now…’ you thought to yourself

“Yeah but having been broken up doesn’t mean that love is gone. It’s not a switch you know.”

“I know. And I wish it was, she’s was a big part of my life I’m not denying that and maybe she always will be. But I’ve changed, she has changed—we’re no longer the same people that we were in the same relationship where I keep questioning my self worth. That’s done now, over. Love took a turn, and it doesn’t look the same anymore. We’re just co-workers now that’s all.”

You like the way he said it. Being no longer the same people that they were. You nodded in his statement not sure what to say next and also feeling a little dizzy.

“I gotta pee.” You suddenly declared and stood up, ran in small steps to the bathroom with Yoongi smiling at you and shaking his head.

And when you got back, he got you a warm water on your favorite mug.

Your thoughts are all over the place when you’re drunk, like you said—your mouth just spills it all out.

“You know what, this is all very brave of you. Being friends with your ex, I can’t imagine.”

“Why? Can’t you?” Staring blankly and holding onto your mug, eyes blinking fast in this question.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really done it before, I’ll let you know if I can.”

You’ve been staring hard on your mug contemplating on his question. He gently touched your hand that’s been holding your mug and said, “Just drink your water.” And pulled it away as soon as you looked like your soul has comeback to earth.

“Can’t I…?” You repeated the question again, and this time out loud.

Hands underneath your chin and resting your elbows on the table. Yoongi is just staring at you, hands in his cheeks—thumb underneath his chin, not even sure if you can even see him. “I hate your question.” You looked at his eyes this time and said that and he just smiled and when he did, you narrowed your eyes. “I hate your smile too.” And this time, he gave you an even bigger one, those gummy smile. And whenever he smiles at you like that you just can’t help but grin in return.

You chugged the water and showed him your empty mug.

He got up and put the rest of the unopened bottle of wine back to the fridge just to prevent you from opening yet another. With his back facing you, arranging the couple of bottles left unto your fridge.

“Yoongi-ah, I know and I love how we respect each other’s privacy and all but just in case things get too heavy. I’m always here, you know. I mean, I’m really glad about today.”

He looked back at you, hands underneath your chin again and eyelids looking all heavy.

“Same goes for you, I’m always here…” And he turned his back again, “fixing you some food and light bulbs.”

And that statement made you smile. “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

He went back to the table and grabbed your wine glass and emptying it for you.

“So you wanna talk about how nothing went right today?” You sighed with your eyes closed.

“Maybe next time, my friend.” You stood up from the dinning table, offered to clean the rest of the dishes but Yoongi insisted that he’d do it instead. So you just nodded and slowly creep back into your room.

“Thanks for today, Yoongi.” You thanked him before you go, peeking behind the wall near the counter and he just smiled at you, cleaning gloves on and started washing the dishes.

Minutes later, you shouted from inside of your room.

“Hey i’ll be in the bathroom for a while. Hope you’re already done using it.”

Yoongi didnt answer. He’s already in his room.

You sat in the tub filled with water that is too hot for anyone else but not for you. Head all dizzy and pounding. It’s 2 am and nothing is more comforting than the silence of it all. Alcohol keeps you awake, more than coffee ever does. The dizziness, the feeling that is drilling in your head, makes it hard for you to sleep. Despite the fact that you always drink. You always drink on an empty stomach though, just so you’re sure you would pass out and not have a hard time sleeping.

But tonight you can’t say no—Yoongi made dinner and as much as you hate how you’re having a hard time now you don’t regret it. The question he said, still lingers. And you know your answer to this, you can’t.

Along with the headache, comes the memories you rarely remember—there are just some special days where somehow the guilt and regret still comes to you in waves, together with conversations you long to let go.

“You can’t be serious?” Joon said, voice cracking with hand on his hair in frustration. “But I am.” With a straight face you answered, “I can’t marry you, Joon. I don’t want to have kids and I know how much you want to have children.” Feeling the desperation in his face and actions, he held your hands close and hugged you. “I love you, I want to marry you. We don’t need to have kids immediately, that’s years away. We don’t have to even worry about that now.” It hurts you to seem him this way, yes both of you may be young—maybe you will change your mind but there’s no guarantee to it. You held onto his shoulder to see his face, tears kept rolling down his face and you keep wiping it off one by one. You’ve thought about this even just a year into the relationship, with all the dad jokes and tiny little shoes he kept in his room. He’s going to be a wonderful dad you thought—maybe not just to your kids because you don’t want one.

The most wonderful man in the world just asked you to marry him a few minutes ago, and now he’s crying on your shoulder in defeat. While you can’t even bring yourself to cry, everything about this just made you numb. You just know you’re doing the right thing. Keeping him by your side with a promise of a future you can’t guarantee is not what love is. You loved him—even much so that you could ever admit.

With the knock on the door, you went back to reality.

“Hey you in there?” His voice echoing at 2 in the morning.

“Yeah, I’ll be here still for a while. You need it?”

“No, it’s okay.” He quietly said, as you heard his footsteps getting farther away.

moodboard sr: x

[mellz117]

Mellz plays KH Re:CoM, Reverse/Rebirth (Riku’s Campaign) part 3

Check out parts [1] and [2] if you haven’t seen them yet. Part 1 also has a link to Sora’s campaign

Below the Read More is the endgame and my final thoughts

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Riku is met with Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, yet again, who still can't fathom why Riku's resisting his advances. Close your damn jacket!

Final battle! I lost twice? I think? Not many times but I think it was 2. But god damn not as many times as I lost to Repliku. That sucked. I don’t get mad about dying multiple times in a final boss, that’s kind of the point of final bosses...

Ansem has a great voice btw, like if there’s gonna be a voice for G-Dorf in Breath of the Wild 2, I want Richard Epcar or Dave Boat (Lexaeus) to voice him. I doubt it’ll happen but those are my picks!

This guy sure does talk a lot for someone who's supposed to be dying.

Ansem explodes in a thick fog of darkness that envelopes Riku and Mickey comes to the rescue. Technically Riku won so he’s allowed to relish in his victoy AS WELL AS be carried off my a floating mouse.

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 IDK where the basement is supposed to exist here because the door Riku reaches the ground floor through is the same door Sora goes through to LEAVE the ground floor. Is it like a hill? Gotta go upstairs to go downstairs?

Idk. I wanna see the full interior of the castle, I want blueprints.

“What now Riku? You going home?” Your Majesty. Mickey, my dude. You can’t just GO HOME after killing a man. Riku’s got some shit to go through, he can’t return to a normal life after this. There is so much more tha nthis!

I’m glad a MOUSE can understand darkness is a thing that just exists, can coexist with the light. Good on him for keeping an open mind! It took how long for anyone to realize light and dark are two sides of the same coin? Twilight Princess was all about this. ...Riku is the twilight princess.

Mickey wants to follow Riku down his path of light and dark and they’re friends now. When did they get the time to bond between KH1 and CoM?

How old is Mickey? He’s BFF’s with a teenager now, how old is he? I’m not saying child and adult friendships aren’t and shouldn’t be a thing, I may use Tumblr but I’m not THAT Tumblr. I’m just wondering what kind of grown-ass adult WANTS to be friends with a teenager lol. Mickey tells Riku, since they’re friends now Riku should call him my his name, rather than his title. So... No one else gets this talk? Donald? Goofy? No? OK.

I deadass expected Simple and Clean to start playing after a hard cut to black despite actually remembering the final confrontation with DiZ.

Riku and Mickey don the black coats DiZ presented earlier then they leave Castle Oblivion behind. The duo meets up with him at a crossroads and immediately Riku’s on the defense. I love Riku, he’s tired, he’s annoyed, he knows the world isn’t black and white, light and darkness, and the literal path he chooses reflects that. He’s accepting the darkness and using it to fight for his friends. I’m so proud of him. I wonder where these paths actually lead.

THE SUN IS RISING I DIDN’T NOTICE THIS UNTIL EDITING THIS WHAT?KJVBLSDFKJVBDLJ

NOW Simple and Clean plays, albeit after a fade to black.

During the credits cinematics we see Riku and Mickey travelling through Hollow Bastion, the same location where the 1,000 Heartless battle in KH2 takes place if I recall correctly! That was cool to see. Riku is having a difficult time. Help him.

The next one we see Roxas again. He stops and looks at the Twilight Town gang when they pass him and Axel tries leading him away. I can only assume the following went down:

“I wanna try that”, Roxas says and gestures to the ice cream the aforementioned group was eating. So he and Axel buy some ice cream and go up the clock tower, Roxas seems to be enjoying himself but Axel doesn’t seem to like this treat at all. I think he just eats it now for Roxas’s sake, he pretends to like it to make him happy.

So I don’t know the timeline of this part of the game. Is Roxas not part of the organization yet at this point? Is Axel trying to recruit him? Is this after Roxas defects and is forgetting his time with them?

The third clip we see a very brief shot of Riku a few months later and he’s looking good. Doesn’t cut his hair.

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Final clip, after the credits shows Roxas and at this point he’s either friends with Hayner, Pence, and Olette or they’re inviting him for the first time to hang out with them.

“Beyond the path without you is a forgotten promise to keep. We may have walked side by side, but now we go on back to back. And though our paths may not cross, all paths are connected somewhere. When I arrive at where you are, we may not appear to be as we were...”

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So, final thoughts of the game overall. I enjoy longish games but when the length is just padded out with such shallow worlds I get bored really easily. I like to explore the map but I can’t do that in this game. Riku’s campaign is very short in comparison to Sora’s, for better or worse. For someone who just REALLY, REALLY wanted to move onto KH2, this was welcome lol. Sora’s half put me to sleep and I had a hard time trudging through it. Not that the story wasn’t engaging enough for me, I just didn’t want to play.

Didn’t care for the card based battle here. I preferred the combat more in Riku’s half because card management wasn’t really a thing which I ended up growing to appreciate for Riku once I got used to it. All I had to do was level up and get an extra card if I felt like it. The duel system was really fun and made boss battles go quickly, when I actually took the time to INITIATE them. Most of my frustration was just me NOT doing what the game aggressively suggested. At least I admit when it’s me and not accuse the game of poor gameplay like a certain grumpy gamer but that’s none of my business. I think this game may have felt better on the Gameboy Advance, I wouldn’t know.

I wanted to cry. I missed these kids so much. I love them so much. I’m a god damn crybaby now so a lot of moments just ended me and sometimes I needed a moment to sob while I hug my cat.

The (original) characters.

I can feel bad for Vexen to a point, he was a bastard but he just ultimately just wanted to do sciency stuff. A lot of questionable science but whatever. He creeps me the hell out. I know he hated Marluxia but was he really willing to spill Marly’s plans to Sora JUST TO SPITE HIM? Or was he actually trying to help Sora? That might explain some things later on down the road...

Lexaeus was always boring so no comment.

Zexion is a cutie pie, I don’t know why I think this I guess it carried over from 10 years ago. I have a soft spot for him. And I didn’t post a single picture of him so here’s one.

Axel, my favorite bastard. I will always love him. Chaotic neutral. He’s not much of an antagonist in this game, more of an obstacle, but he’s certainly working in favor of his own interests. I’ve been reading Inkheart and he reminds me of Dustfinger? Fire and all i guess.

Marluxia is also a bastard but as an antagonist I don’t dislike him. He mostly has his good looks to help him with that. I’m not sure why he wanted to overthrow the Organization but it got him dead so GG my dude. Not sure why Xehanort invited him and Larxene back.

Larxene.

Repliku. Brat, very much a brat. He immediately had beef with Sora because apparently it’s too unreasonable for Sora to “forget the quiet girl who moved away” when you were four and five years old. I could barely remember this game let alone any memories from when I was 4. I would have liked to see him interact with Riku during the time he thought he himself (Repliku) was the real one. Imagine the DRAMA. I do feel bad for him, his struggles with his identity and his jealousy towards Riku. I love how he is with Namine, so soft spoken and gentle. But we all know that’s based on false memories which is so sad. But like Sora said, the memories might be fake but the feelings are real.

Namine is a very good girl, a victim, a child who, when given the courage to, will stand up against her captor to protect her friends. She’s very sweet and smells like Kairi! (Riku, that’s weird) She’s brave as hell and I stan her. She just wanted a friend.

Sora... He’s so pure, so wholesome. He’ll do whatever it takes to save his friends. He had a little moment of weakness and cast Donald and Goofy aside but he got better pretty quickly. He was willing to give Repliku a chance despite their interactions being negative. He forgave Namine, knowing she had no choice but to do what she was forced to do. Sora. Just Sora. Love him.

Riku. I couldn’t stand him in the first game, he was just a punk-ass teenager (which makes me wonder why he and Sora were ever friends in the first place) with a super inflated ego who just, kinda does a 180 after you beat Ransem and is good? But my god. I just fell in love with this precious bean in Re:CoM. I remember the best of Riku from KH2 (let’s pretend KH3 doesn't exist for a second here because that is in my opinion the BEST Riku) and it was so welcoming and CoM really bridged the developmental gap between 1 and 2. It’s nice to see him struggle with this darkness and then learn to utilize it in a safe manner. We see a lot of vulnerability from him too, when he’s being constantly mocked by Ansem and the few embers of Org13 he meets here, his own doppelganger touting how much better he is, not having his one form of support physically be there on the majority of his journey. Riku’s super snarky throughout the game overall though and I love that. He’s the complete opposite of Sora at this time and he’s absolutely done with everyone’s bullshit.

Ansem is really persistent. He’s the guy who just can’t take a hint, I can’t imagine his dating life is very successful. I don’t like him but I don’t hate him either. He definitely makes more of an impact as a bad guy in this game, frequently showing up to harass Riku. Obligatory mentioning my mistake in saying that HE was guiding Riku in the beginning of the game when it was actually DiZ.

DiZ is formally introduced in this game and he’s cryptic as shit. I dig his design but what the hell made Ansem the Wise take this form? With all those bandages he looks like a burn victim (I haven’t played BbS if this is what happened Im sorry) but the call of fashion still rings in his ears. Why belts on his head though? That was this series aesthetic until KH3 pushed plaid. Anyway he is also a character I don't have any particular feelings towards

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I think I’m going to take a break from KH for a bit. I got the Spyro Reignited Trilogy the other day for XBOne, so I’ll be playing that. I’ve never played Spyro before, I hope I like it!

[sadprose-auroras]

‘Breathe’ – Roger TaylorXReader (HIGHLY UNRECOMMENDED)

A/N – just a few things:

Sorry about any inconsistencies with regard to writing style or characterisation, I haven’t written a fanfic in like 5 years, and a short story in about a year. Also dialogue has always been my weak point, so I sincerely apologise for the cringe. Please don’t take any of this to be representative of real people – it’s meant to be an AU. I obviously didn’t know young Roger Taylor personally.

Lastly, please don’t question why Roger is shitfaced and the reader is entirely sober… we don’t talk about that. Or the unusual turn it took toward the end. I was in a mood.

Please enjoy, and leave any feedback or requests (even if it’s to tell me that my writing is SHIT – I’ve literally never written in the second person)

xx

Your feelings for him were almost too cliché. Every time he hugged you by way of greeting, you yearned to bury your face in his neck. Every time he finished a set with his band, you wanted more than anything to be the one he picked up in celebration, spun around and kissed sweetly, feeling and knowing you were safe in his arms.

But that would never happen; because he occupied his time with a string of meaningless one-night stands, and parties where the stream of alcohol was constant. You wanted to be fine with just being his friend, but you were a ticking time bomb. Each time you saw him whispering something in yet another girl’s ear, arm resting lazily behind her and she giggled, your patience grew thinner and thinner. Every time you sat up with him on a rare night he wasn’t shagging a random girl whose name he presumably did not know, sipping coffee and intensely talking about everything and nothing, your inner voice screaming at him to love you back, to realise everything he could ever want was sitting right in front of him grew louder and louder.

You relied on a multitude of excuses as to why you could never, and would never, tell him how you really felt. You explained it away by convincing yourself it would be too complicated, with him constantly touring and you being tied down, at your stationary job. You didn’t want to wreck your already beautiful bond by complicating it with more-than-platonic feelings. You figured you could endure the shameful jealousy you felt watching him flirt with every girl in sight, and you tried to rationalise your concealment by convincing yourself that it was pointless; he only valued your friendship, and it would be humiliating to be rejected in such a vulnerable position.

You even, at one point, attempted to convince yourself that you weren’t truly in love with him, and you were just confused by your strong feelings of loving friendship, combined with his ridiculously ethereal good looks; his huge, sparkling, baby blue eyes, messy golden locks and cheeky smirk. That didn’t last very long.

The months seemingly dragged on, and it felt more and more as if your heart was being physically ripped out of your chest. One particularly painful night, Roger, being on a break, invited you over to his flat, to cook dinner together and watch films. However, after eating, he begged you to go out to a local pub instead.

“Come on, please,” he flashed you ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes that, embarrassingly, sent a shiver down your spine, “we’ll have so much fun.”

“Rog,” you sighed, “you know it’s not really my scene.” You attempted to avoid eye contact with the dreamingly attractive man sitting across from you, awkwardly staring at your plate as you pushed the leftovers around with your fork. You didn’t want to hold him back, which you often guiltily felt you did.

“Please, Y/N. I can’t very well go out and leave you here in my place now, can I? You simply have to come with me!”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but scoff playfully and roll your eyes at this.

“Okay, fine!” you groaned, “but I’m not going to enjoy it! Know that I’m doing this reluctantly, and only for you!” you rolled your eyes dramatically, as you began to gather the dishes.

Roger batted your hand away as you reached for his plate.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I got ‘em.” He grinned and leaned forward to grab your plate. You tried your very best to not stare at his exposed chest in this process; his dangerously low unbuttoned shirt, paired with stacked necklaces, was your absolute kryptonite.

You were kicking yourself for expecting anything different; of course, he just came here to hook up with someone. As you sipped on your drink, maybe a little too quickly, you couldn’t take your eyes off Roger, casually leaning on the bar, flirting heavily with a girl who was stroking his arm and laughing loudly at something he was saying.

Of course you were jealous of his (assumingly) sexual advances towards someone else, but the thing that hurt the most, was that he practically dragged you here, then abandoned you to flirt with a stranger. You were at least expecting to hang out with him as a friend, as you normally would. But for now, you felt stuck to your chair, as Roger (who had not even glanced your way in the last 10 minutes) ordered another drink, and pulled the girl onto the dancefloor.

“Y/N! Sweetie!” Roger slurred, stumbling towards you. You quickly darted up, wrapping your arms around him to stop him from tripping over his own feet. You tried to ignore his hot breath against your neck as he spoke.

“You’re the cutest,” he giggled. “You’ve got a really cute nose!” He gasped, as if he has just come to the realisation.

“Has anyone ever told you that?” he asked, adorably tapping you on the nose. Jesus christ. Could you be more in love with him?

“I can’t say they have,” you laughed, in an attempt to suppress your feelings, shamefully loving his drunken antics. He nuzzled his face into your neck, letting out a muffled, “hmm,” in response.

“Come on, Rog. Let’s get you home,” you said, walking both of you towards the exit.

“You take such good care of me,” Roger mumbled peacefully, then, to your amusement, burped loudly. You struggled to fill up a glass of water and grab some painkillers, as he hung all over you and got in your way. Bloody hell. Being this close to him was not making it easy, or any less confusing. Could he either just be with you, or not talk to you at all?

You led him into his bedroom, placing the water and tablets on his bedside table, then placing a bucket from the laundry at his bedside. As you grabbed some pyjamas for him from his drawer, (which, to your embarrassment, you knew exactly where they were and which ones he preferred to wear), he continued to praise you.

“Seriously, Y/N,” he sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re the only person who understands me.” This tugged at your heartstrings, and you bit your lip to stop the tears welling in your eyes, as you handed him the pyjamas.

He looked down at them in his hand, furrowing his eyebrows, then said, “Can you please help me put these on?”

You sighed, nodded and knelt in front of him on the floor, swallowing your intense fondness for everything about him. For how caring he truly was, despite his cheeky façade. For the way that he made your heart flutter just by looking at you. For how he always seemed to know what you were thinking or feeling before you even said it. For how he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when you were alone with him. For how he didn’t tolerate your occasional, and unfortunately inevitable shitty behaviour, but politely called you out on it, and accepted the same from you. And, particularly, for what he said next;

“I’m so sorry about tonight. I really am.”

“It’s fine, Rog,” you smiled at him, trying to hide your shaking hands as you quickly slipped his shirt off his shoulders and buttoned up the pyjama top.

“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, fortunately changing his pants by himself as you sat beside him on the bed, aching to rest your head on his shoulder.

“That was such an asshole thing to do. I dragged you there, then ditched you.” He spoke with such genuine sincerity and remorse, his eyes actually filling up with tears, that you were taken aback.

“Please forgive me,” he hiccupped. You couldn’t help but smile at his, and, spurred on by his drunkenness and high likelihood of forgetting tonight’s events in the morning, bravely touched his cheek lightly. He fluttered his eyes shut at the sensation, leaning into your hand.

“Of course I forgive you, you idiot.” At this, he grabbed your hand and touched your fingers gently to his lips, placing your hand down again, while whispering, “I love you, Y/N.” It happened so quickly, and so quietly, you felt lightheaded at your startlement.

“I love you too, Roger,” you smiled sadly, still assuming he meant in a platonic way.

“No,” he rapidly shook his head drunkenly, “I’m in love with you. You’re the most compassionate, strong, independent person I have ever known. I know we’ve been friends for so long that it seems like it would never work, but it can. It can!” he babbled.

‘Rog,” you breathed, “don’t do this right now. Please. Let’s talk about this tomorrow. Just go to sleep, okay?”

His eyes drifted shut as you pulled the blanket up around him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he mumbled sleepily, snuggling down into the bed and gripping the sheets.

You brushed his hair out of his face, leaning down to kiss his temple as he quickly began to fall asleep. Your heart ached at the sight; his mouth was partly open, breathing softly, his hair formed a halo around his head on the pillow, and his annoyingly long eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones.

“Goodnight, Roger.” It absolutely broke your heart to stand up and leave the room. It took all you could to not turn back around to look at him, just once more. To just have one more moment of weakness.

“Stay with me,” you heard a distant voice behind you. You ignored it, shut the door, and went downstairs to sleep on the couch.

After waking up earlier than you would have liked, you attempted to wash your grogginess off with a long, hot shower. This, unfortunately, only provided the perfect opportunity to overthink. As you massaged shampoo into your scalp, your mind, annoyingly, wandered. Did Roger mean everything he said last night? Or was he simply blabbering drunken nonsense? It, after all, seemed too good to be true. Why would he have feelings for you? You could be a bore, you were ridiculously stubborn, and you would only hold him back from living a fulfilling life. But then again, why would he be such close friends with you, if he didn’t like who you were as a person? Did he know how you felt about him (you probably didn’t do a very good job at hiding it), and was just making fun of you? You quickly scolded yourself for even going there as you dried yourself off and got dressed; he would never be that cruel.

As you rounded the corner into the kitchen downstairs, the welcoming scent of coffee enveloped you, and you couldn’t hide your smile.

“Morning sunshine,” you smiled at Roger, who, despite his rough appearance and probable headache, was still making the both of you coffee (with milk and no sugar, just as you liked it). You gratefully wrapped your fingers around the mug as he handed it to you.

“Morning,” he said, then, ever so casually, leaned forward to peck your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat. Had things changed? Did he actually love you, as you did him?

Your hopes were quickly crushed when he said, “What the hell happened last night? I don’t remember a thing.” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. You attempted to suppress the physical flinch that overcame you when he spoke.

“Well, except that I begged you to come out with me. I’m so sorry about that,” he sighed. This was all too familiar. Your heart sank. Nothing had changed.

“It’s fine, Rog, really,” you said, feeling absolutely defeated and frustrated.

Suddenly, you were more than just hurt. You were angry. All the feelings you had suppressed for so long culminated in white hot rage toward Roger. How dare he give you a sliver of hope, when he must have been aware of your feelings for him (hell, you must have been obvious).  To your shame, you began to yell at him in a frenzy, your head spinning. You ignored the hurt and confusion in his large eyes; those that easily expressed all his emotions and thoughts in just a glance.

“No, you know what? I’ll fucking tell you what happened. You did the cruellest thing you could have possibly done. You finally returned my feelings, finally made me think you could actually have feelings for me as well, despite only just having spent the whole night dancing with another girl while I sat alone! Then you forget that you told me you loved me? What kind of person does that!? I fucking hate you, Roger,” you exhaled, an involuntary sob escaping your lips. Before you knew it, you were sliding down until you were leaning against the kitchen bench, hugging your knees and crying uncontrollably. You couldn’t suppress the burning in your cheeks; you were humiliated. You could never take it back. He finally knew how you felt about him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Roger, who sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he said soothingly. You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to push him off you, your face still buried in your hands, but he stayed put. You just knew that if he touched you like this, you would come undone yet again.

“Hey, Y/N, please look at me,” he begged, moving your chin with his fingers to face him. You let out a shaky breath in hopes of calming yourself down.

“Please don’t push me away.”

His face conveyed such raw vulnerability that your chest physically ached at the sight. All you wanted was to run your hands through his hair to comfort him. For now, you settled for smiling at him encouragingly.

“I remember,” he whispered.

“What?”

He cleared his throat, speaking louder.

“I remember, Y/N. Of course I remember. I’m so sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have pretended not to remember. I was just scared. When I’m sober, I can control myself around you. I can hide my feelings. But when I’m drunk, I have no control. I say what I really feel. The only reason I was so insistent on going out, was so I didn’t have to be alone with you in my apartment. I thought I could escape how I feel about you. I didn’t trust myself to not say anything. I had to distract myself with someone else. But, it didn’t work. It never does. My feelings just grow stronger,” he gulped, licking his lips nervously.

“How,” you spoke slowly, “how do you feel?” you asked. You needed to hear him say it.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been for years.”

“I love you too, Roger. So damn much.” A single tear of relief ran down your face, and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

You glanced down at his plump lips, bit yours, and slowly leaned in. Your stomach flipped so much, you felt as if you were going to explode. Finally, your lips met. You felt dizzyingly euphoric as you kissed each other; agonizingly slowly, with passion and tenderness. His tongue ran along your bottom lip as his hands gripped your sides, and you involuntarily groaned into the kiss. You, finally, reached up to run your hands through his hair, tugging slightly.

As you pulled away, feeling dizzy at the lack of oxygen, you let out a shaky exhale as you smiled brightly at each other.

“I,” you started, “have been wanting to do that for such a long time.”

“Me too,” his face lit up, the corners of his eyes crinkling and eyes shining as he smiled. Your heart lurched.

“Really?” you asked, screwing up your nose. “I honestly don’t believe it. What about all the girls you date – or rather, shag?” you corrected yourself.

He shook his head, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face.

“I was just running from how I felt about you. But,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear and lingering his hand at the side of your face, “I feel more intimate with you when you simply look at me, then I did with all of those girls combined.”

-

“I just got so used to keeping it a secret, I couldn’t even imagine a world where it was actually out in the open, ya know?” you said, intertwining your fingers with his. He hummed in agreement, circling his thumb on your hand mindlessly.

You were both sitting on the couch, you on his lap with your legs outstretched, his arms wrapped around you and your head resting back on his chest.

“That’s exactly how I felt,” he laughed into your hair, “exactly. I got so used to filling my days with partying and sleeping around to suppress my feelings, that I almost got to the point of convincing myself that I didn’t really love you. The key word here is almost,” he emphasised. You rolled your eyes at this. It sounded all too familiar.

“Yet,” he continued, “every time I saw you, I would just fall more in love with you, and just be back to square one.”

You couldn’t help but ask him, “but why me? You’ve been with so many girls. I’m not exactly the conventional body type.”

It was true. You certainly had your struggles with your body image.

“Plus, why couldn’t you have easily fallen in love with any one of those women? They aren’t just sex objects, you know. Anyone who has the good judgement to enjoy your music must be a pretty cool person.”

He took a second to answer you, and when he sat up so the two of you were cross-legged facing each other, your heart sank. Had you taken it too far? Had you offended him?

“I don’t treat women like that, do I?” he said, a look of concern taking over his features.

“I didn’t mean to disrespect anyone, I tried to consider their feelings. It was always consensual.” He continued. You sighed.

“I don’t doubt that you were anything but your sweet, caring self. I know you’d never intentionally objectify someone. All I meant was, having sex with lots of women isn’t justified by saying you were distracting yourself. You’re still technically reducing them to their sexuality. That’s just a really unhealthy mindset to have. There’s nothing wrong with having lots of sex, but women aren’t distractions; they’re people with feelings.”

Suddenly his whole demeanour softened, and an affectionate smile took over his face. He grabbed both of your hands again and kissed your knuckles.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, trying to lighten your tone so he knew you didn’t mean any ill will.

“I just,” he paused to kiss your other hand, “love you. And that’s why. You’re so intelligent, you’re always looking out for the good of everyone besides yourself. And you are right. I never would have thought that something so small could actually be damaging like that.”

Holy shit. Could you be more fond of him!? You were speechless. And yet, something was holding you back.

“So,” you gulped, “you never answered. Why me?”

“Y/N, my love. Please stop doing that. You’re beautiful. It’s not just about your body. I mean, of course your body is beautiful, but it’s in the little things. The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating, the way we’ve been together for roughly three hours and you’ve been resting your head on my chest or shoulder for about two hours and fifty-five minutes of that time. The way you always try not to offend anyone with your words. The way you make my whole body feel like it’s buzzing with electricity. And the way you take my breath away, and make me feel like I can finally catch my breath, all at once.”

“Rog,” you moved closer to him, looking him directly in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty.

“You know I love you too, right?”

“I mean, I’ve definitely been the sappier one so far in our relationship,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him.

“I’m serious! I want you to feel the same way I do. I want you to know how much I admire your passion for music. How flustered I feel when you merely hug me. How much I adore the way you treat your friends with so much kindness. How I am in awe of your generous and open heart. How I literally melt when you wear those damn shirts that you barely button up.”

He cocked his eyebrow up, smiling at you.

“I just really wanted you to know that I absolutely adore you too,” you finish, lightly dancing your fingertips across his lips.

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing your fingers.

“Okay,’ you said, sitting up straight, “I’ll cut you deal. You try and stop reducing women to only one thing before you even know them, and I’ll stop being an insecure, closed-off little bitch, and actually be open to the idea that someone might actually have feelings for me, and, for once, make myself vulnerable. What do you say?” you babbled.

At this, Roger smiled softly, shook his head and said, “There is just no one like you, is there?”

“So do we have a deal?” you asked, cheeks flaming red, as they always did around him. This time though, you didn’t have to hide it.

“Of course, Y/N.”

As you both leaned into each other to steal a short, sweet kiss, you finally felt content. And, for the first time in a long time, it felt as if you could finally exhale.