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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

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I’d do anything to have it (but you handed it for free)

Read it on ao3

It's all going well.

The charity auction has managed to get quite a lot of money. Only a few more hundred dollars, maybe, and they should have enough to keep the shelter running. Magnus is one of the last attractions - for some reason many people were interested in going on a date with him - so when he gets on stage, he's already grinning, feeling victorious.

And then he sees Camille, and he freezes.

OR: Alec and Magnus end up with an all-paid-for date. Oh no, am I right?

It’s all going pretty well, he thinks.

The charity auction has attracted quite some people, and most of the items they were selling had gotten pretty good bids. They didn’t have much (it was just a uni club event, after all, so most stuff had been donated) but they had managed to attract a lot of generous people who were willing to overpay for the cause. And the dates had managed to attract those who weren’t - a surprising number of people were interested in getting a chance to know some of the club members. The fact that Ragnor had agreed to let them eat for free in his restaurant (a small, but nice thing, good enough to be considered fancy for the university crowd) probably helped, too.

Magnus is one of the last attractions, so he’s not too nervous - they only need a few more hundred dollars, maybe, which they should be able to get by the time it’s over at this rate.

So all in all, it’s going well, and Magnus has a big smile on his face as he gets onstage.

And then he sees her, and he freezes.

She looks every bit like the last time they talked - long hair falling in slow, lazy waves, eyes piercing, and the ever-present sly, cold smile framed by red lipstick. He used to think red was the color of passion, but when it’s on her, all he can see is blood. It almost makes him dizzy, the quickness with which the déjà vu he feels washes over him.

By this point, all that seeing her elicited in him was a disappointed, tired sigh. He almost wished he would still feel something, like pain or hope or even just a spectre of the good things he one day felt for her. Even if they were lies. Even if they would hurt more when she inevitably… At least it would be a dragged-out hurt. Diluted. But this tiredness, this emptiness, it was worse. Seeing her felt like hollowing himself out. Like locking his whole essence in a box until he couldn’t feel a thing, not even the smell of the flowers in bloom, not even his own heartbeat.

“Camille,” he said.

“Magnus,” she answered, and he briefly wondered when her smile started looking so predatory. Maybe it always did. Maybe just having a smile directed at him at all was enough for him at the time.

It wasn’t anymore, though.

“I thought you were better than this,” he sighed, “it’s been who knows how many months-”

“Six months,” she said, checking her nails, looking bored. Then she smiled at him, almost flirtingly, “but who’s counting, am I right, dear?”

Six months since he’d last seen her. Over a year since the break-up. He really thought she had left him alone for good this time, but apparently she was just leaving him alone for bigger chunks of time before suddenly showing up in the coffee shop near his apartment. Magnus knew he shouldn’t be this surprised - he knows she knows where he lives. But it still sent a shiver down his spine, something that feels like being violated, like having a sanctuary broken into.

He sighed again, and at this point doing it felt almost like deja vu. “Right. Six months. I thought you’d have figured out that I meant it by now. It’s over, Camille.”

“Always loved the way you say my name,” she purred, “remember, dear? You’d call me saying, ‘Camille, Camille, I need you’.” Her imitation of his voice was ugly, high-pitched and pathetic. And felt more on-point than it should. “I would drop everything to see you then, remember? How I’d find you crying, sometimes even bloody, and you’d ask me to stay? Whatever happened to that?”

He swallowed. “I don’t need you anymore.”

“So what, you’re just gonna toss me like trash? Done using me, so you’ve moved on?” Her voice sounded too calm for such an accusation. He can still hear it in his mind. It sounds almost like a challenge. She said it like a defense attorney in a courtroom might, devoid of anything but boredom and vice.

Still, Magnus felt the pang of guilt tearing at his chest. And he takes it back, he doesn’t want to go back to feeling things when he sees her. It’s never good.

He got the small mercy of her not waiting for his reply, though. “So now you’re going around and finding someone else? That Lightwood boy?” her voice laced with disdain at his name, almost snicker, and Magnus froze. She smiled proudly at that. “What, you think I don’t know about your little crush? I know that’s why you left me, dear. That’s why I’m here, to see if you’re done with this little fantasy and can see what you really need. Me.”

“I didn’t leave you for anyone but myself,” he answered, somewhat firm.

Camille made a dismissive gesture with her hand like she didn’t even hear him. “He’s not interested in you, Magnus. I don’t want him to break your heart. I know how hard it is to pick up the pieces. You’re way too sensitive, dear.”

“Alec has nothing-”

“Surely you know that, don’t you? If I hadn’t known that you’d become all greedy and chase after him, I wouldn’t even have had a problem with your friendship. Does he even know about your little-” she gave him a quick once-over, “condition?”

She didn’t give him time to even process that. Of course, Alec knows he’s trans - they’ve met at uni’s LGBTQ club, just a little before Magnus started dating Camille. “Didn’t he just, like, finally come out outside of your little get-together? He’s gay, Magnus. You think that now that he’s finally free to,” she made a vague gesture with her hand, “I don’t know, suck some dick or something, he’s gonna settle for, what, some knockoff?”

Magnus felt choked. “You’ve never-”

“I’m different, Magnus. I can handle that. He won’t. I know he won’t, because I know how hard it is. Dating someone who’s- wrong in their body- it’s not for everyone. Besides, I’ve kissed some girls at parties before, when my boyfriends were into it. And I’m straight, so I’ve never had to fight for who I love. But he has, so why would he go through all that and end up settling for that?”

It was the sickening, almost disgusting emphasis on the ‘that’ that sends him snapping. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because this is not about Alec,” he said, firmly, “this is about me, and you. And it’s over, Camille. I’m not choosing him over you, I’m choosing me over you. Leave me alone.”

“Fine,” she almost growled, and he resisted the instinct to duck. “But when you call me crying because of him, don’t expect me to pick up.”

And that had been it. For- well, over a year now. Magnus is doing better. He has been doing therapy and unlearning all the shit she had put into his head after almost a year in a relationship. He is almost graduating, he is doing fulfilling work for charity, he is ready to become a biochemist and take over the world.

And yes, maybe he did still have a tiny crush on Alexander, even if he knows it isn’t reciprocated, but that is fine. Because the hardest lesson Camille had taught him is that relying on romantic love to be happy is a trap. He doesn’t need Alec to love him, because he could love himself, and live contently with the platonic love he got from his friends and his found family, and that was fine. He is free from her. His heart, his mind, his reflection, they are all free from her.

How cruel it is, then, that she showed up in a situation where he was absolutely helpless to do anything about it.

Well, that isn’t exactly true; he could tell the organisers of their history - it wasn’t just about him, after all, but the security of everyone involved, considering her, well, history with queer people. They would probably invalidate her bids and escort her out. Hell, if Catarina or Raphael saw her, they would probably do it before Magnus could even open his mouth.

But Magnus is already onstage. And seeing the way she smiles at him, he feels frozen on the spot, like his very instincts went into overdrive when confronted with her presence. And he can’t ruin this - the auction is to raise money for a local, self-run shelter for queer people who were kicked out of their homes. They need it to pay this month’s bills, and the uni LGBTQ Club had agreed to help.

And Magnus has attracted quite a few people - the stylish, funny, ridiculously unavailable (after the whole Camille ordeal, not to mention the Alexander Problem) biochemist who was already well-known in his field even before graduation. No surprise people wanted the chance to go on a date with him- or at least that’s what Ragnor had, somewhat grumpily (but secretly proud) told him. Magnus still thinks there must have been some mistake.

Besides, it’s not like she could hurt him, not from afar-

“A thousand dollars.”

He sees her lips move before he hears her speak, and after she speaks he hears nothing.

A thousand dollars.

That is- so ridiculously out of their range, even Magnus sees the cash dancing before his eyes before he sees his own demise.

He can’t ask them to withdraw that bid. It would help them keep the shelter running for a long while, not to mention be money to help in emergencies.

But that would mean-

How foolish he was, to think he would be free of her.

But how could Magnus face himself in the mirror, if he left those people in need after promising to help them? He was lucky- he had managed to leave his home in his own terms, and even if his father wasn’t, objectively, the best, he was never homeless. He couldn’t be so selfish.

Besides, what is one date with Camille? He would survive. He’d had plenty of them before. It would probably be bad, but Magnus can handle it. He’s doing better. He knows he won’t go back to her, not after all this time. Maybe a small anxiety relapse, but he will get over it quickly. It will be worth it. More than worth it. He knows he’s strong. He can do this.

But he couldn’t help the sense of despair and dread that hits him like a punch, and selfishly wish that he could just turn his back and leave, as he heard Maia say, “going once, going twice-”

“NO!” he heard a scream from backstage, and opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - just in time to see Alexander, still looking ridiculously hot in the black suit he wore for his auction, running into view. “No, twice that, I’ll- twice what she just said!” he screams, a little out of breath.

Maia raises her eyebrows. “Are you saying that you bid two thousand dollars?”

He knows Alec is rich - he’s a Lightwood, after all - but he can’t ask that much of him. He’s about to tell Alexander that it’s fine, but his response is so automatic Magnus doesn’t even manage to take in a breath. “Yes! Yes, two thousand dollars for Magnus.”

“Can he even do that?” Magnus hears Camille say, although weakly. She knows he can. This is a charity auction, not some over-the-top antique selling. They’re in a local movie theatre that allowed them to use some old, out-of-use room, for fuck’s sake. No one’s even supposed to put in that much money, which is exactly why Camille had done it, of course. She believed it would go unchallenged, and she was mostly right. She just forgot to take into account Alexander’s hero-ing tendencies. And his stubbornness, of course.

Magnus is almost bracing himself for some ridiculous bid battle, but he can already see Raphael and Catarina grabbing Camille’s arm. Raphael’s hissing something quietly at Camille that he can only assume is not nearly as scary as Catarina’s ice-cold stare.

“Sold to Mr. Lightwood for two thousand dollars,” Maia says, and that settles that.

It doesn’t end it, of course. For the rest of the night, Catarina and Raphael had been alternating with following Magnus wherever he went, in a move he was sure they thought was subtle. He didn’t say anything, though, because he was nothing but grateful for it, from the second he turned around after getting off-stage and Alexander had silently sat him down and offered him some water. And even more so after that, when a distinctly post-threatening Catarina and Raphael had showed up with determined looks on their faces. Raphael had left with Alec to take care of the rest of the event for Magnus, and Catarina had simply sat down besides Magnus, and wordlessly put his head on her shoulder.

Magnus didn’t cry, but he felt himself tremble slightly under the strong, yet careful strokes on his hair. Catarina knew exactly how he liked to be comforted, and her grounding touch allowed him to process what had just happened without losing himself, or feeling like he should hide from view.

It felt nice, to be safe.

Raphael had stuck with trying to cover for Magnus, which he was thankful for - Raphael knew Magnus would stress over it, so he just wordlessly covered for him to make sure Magnus would have time to recover. Whenever Raphael passed by him, he would wordlessly nod and tell him that everything was going smoothly. Magnus knew that was his way of trying to take care of him. He would sometimes bring Magnus water, too, and ask him how he was doing, and when Magnus answered “good,” he’d say “that’s all I want,” and tap his shoulder before taking his cup back with him.

Raphael thought he wasn’t good with expressing affection, but really, seeing how much he cared for Magnus was the easiest thing in the world.

Eventually, Raphael had tapped him on the shoulder, easing him back into reality, to tell him that they had managed to wrap everything up. Catarina took Magnus’ hand and led him back to where Raphael and Alec were waiting for him.

After a few more hugs and worried glances, it goes a little like this:

Magnus is reassuring the three of them, plus Maia and Isabelle, that he’s fine. He is; he didn’t have a panic attack, or a crying fit, or anything of the sort. He just felt tired. They’re all still insisting on staying with him, though, so he says that he doesn’t want to be with a lot of people right now. That makes them all nod understandably - even if Cat is still narrowing her eyes - but Alec insists on taking him to his loft. He doesn’t live in the dorms, so it’s a little further away, and they don’t want to leave him alone.

Magnus agrees, if anything because Alexander’s company doesn’t sound half bad right now. He just doesn’t want the- crowding.

So they all leave, and Magnus and Alec are left alone, and Magnus finally gets the chance to thank him, and insists that he’s going to pay Alexander back somehow - he knows Alec only did it for his sake, because he knows about his and Camille’s history, has been there to help Magnus through anxiety attacks more times than he cares to remember, and he’s thankful for that, and for his generosity in saving him from this date, he really is, but he can’t let him do this for him, no matter how many times Alexander insists that it was his idea and that this was not a loan and there’s no need to pay him back, and it feels almost comfortable again, to be exchanging jabs with Alexander as they walk down the block, and he’s thinking something about unstoppable force versus immovable object as the argument keeps going and he’s almost having fun somehow and they turn in a corner and Camille is there.

She’s all nonchalance, dress and high heels and scornful smirk. She’s leaning against the wall with her arms crossed casually before her chest, and jesus, had she been waiting for them?

He only tenses a fraction of a second before Alec does, and suddenly he steps between Magnus and her, position hostile like he’s shielding him. Magnus even affords to spend one (1) second thinking about how tall he is and how nice he looks, before he hears Camille chuckle.

“Oh, relax, Lightwood, I won’t steal your little boytoy. You bought him fair and square, after all,” she says.

“Leave,” Alec answers, and the way he completely ignores Camille’s jabs almost has Magnus swooning. It’s just so Alec, he thinks, to step all over the drama and the mind games like this. Alec is almost blunt in his honesty, and it’s one of the many things that makes Magnus feel so safe around him.

“You’re so boring,” Camille says, instantly taking Magnus out of his daydream. “I just wanted to congratulate little Magnus, here, for finally getting what he wanted. Or, the closest he will get, at least.” When Magnus tenses, she smiles sweetly at him, in a way that tells him this reaction is exactly what she wanted, “I’m talking about the auction money, of course.”

“Great. Now leave,” Alec repeats.

“I second that,” Magnus says, and feels even prouder of himself for speaking up when Alec spares a second to look back at him and flash him a proud, reassuring smile.

“Oh, whatever.” She rolls her eyes, “As you wish. Congratulations again, dear,” she says to Magnus, smiling pleasantly, before turning on her heels. Magnus doesn’t even dare believe that it’s over, doesn’t dare take a breath, not even when he sees Alec start to relax as he crosses his arms and mutters under his breath, cunt.

Camille turns so quickly Magnus almost wonders if she has some kind of superhearing. But she just smiles again, looks straight at Magnus - corners of her lips twitching and turning her smile into something else, something that looks like a snake lunging at an unsuspecting rat - and says, “funny you would say that.”

He feels his stomach sink. Not this. Not now. Please-

Alec just looks at her, confused for a second, and Magnus would bless his dumb little heart for not getting her jab if it didn’t give Camille an excuse to keep talking. Sighing like she’s explaining something to a toddler, she explains, “well, I’m not the only cunt here, am I, Magnus, dear?”

He can see Alec’s face morph into something he can’t quite describe, but knows means that Alec understands now. “I am going to punch you,” he says, unbearably calm, like he’s the eye of a hurricane. Then he takes one step towards her.

Magnus grabs him by the elbow, partially because he doesn’t want a fight and partially because he doesn’t want Alec to leave his side. When Alexander turns to look at him, Camille smiles victoriously, turns on her heels again, and leaves.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says, “Magnus, I’m really sorry.”

Magnus is quick to dismiss him, a simple wave of his hand all that accompanies his words. “It’s not your fault, Alexander. Besides, you were nothing if not a gentleman tonight. Thank you,” he says, and smiles.

From the first time Alec met Magnus, he had seen enough of his smiles to categorise them all. They were all beautiful, and they were all special in their own way. There was his content, blissed-out smile from when he took his first sip of orange juice in the morning - the one he had seen a few times when he slept over at his place. There was his brilliant, contagious smile when he figured out a solution to a problem Alec could barely understand - he’s studying medicine, but even then, it’s not like he knows about biochemistry beyond the basics, and Magnus’ interests are niche to say the least. There was his lazy, satisfied smile in the very rare moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down, something that looked so private and raw. There was his self-satisfied smile when he made a particularly bad pun, and his delighted smile when Alec couldn’t help but laugh at it. There was his challenging smile when their little games of Uno would get particularly nasty during a sleepover, and his hidden smile when he was teasing Alec and trying to look serious. There was his sleepy smile when he would swear he was not in any way about to fall asleep, right before he would inevitably fall asleep. There are so many of Magnus’ smiles, and he is proud to be able to catalogue and interpret them all.

This one is the only one he doesn’t like.

It’s his tight, everything-is-fine smile, the one that he uses to try and hide when he convinces himself his own problems are too much of a nuisance for others. The one that barely computes beyond the almost fearful, teary look in his eyes. Magnus has the most beautiful and expressive eyes Alec has ever seen, and that makes it impossible for Magnus to lie to Alec, with the way Alec always, always wants to look at them.

He knows better than to argue with him, though. Instead, he just pulls Magnus into a hug, and tries not to think something like “he smells like sandalwood”, because for fuck’s sake, Alec already knows that.

Magnus looks taken aback for a second, like he always does when Alec touches him. It almost makes him feel unsure, the way Magnus’ whole body freezes like a deer caught in headlights when Alec shows him affection, but it always goes like this: right when Alec is about to ask if he wants to be alone, Magnus melts in his arms like jelly, like he can barely stand on his feet. And Alec knows, then, that it’s not about him, or- any of that, it’s about Magnus still being surprised when people care for him, no matter how many years pass and how many people wholly dedicated to him he has.

It cracks the edges of Alec’s heart, but he holds it together through holding Magnus together, embrace tight and hands running soothingly over his back. He can feel Magnus tremble slightly, like he’s stuffed full of emotion and doesn’t know how to let it out.

“I should have punched her,” Alec says, almost musingly.

Magnus shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want that.”

Alec sighs, “you know she deserves it, right? You don’t need to protect her. You owe her nothing.”

Magnus shakes his head again, and Alec’s protest is already on his lips. They’ve had this discussion a million times; helping someone in a time of fragility only to use that against them later is not helping, it’s manipulating. But right when he’s about to say it, Magnus says, voice slightly muffled against his chest, “This is much better than any punching.”

Alec pointedly ignores the way his heart leaps. Hugging Magnus is always a double-edged sword. It feels too nice. “Can’t argue with that,” he says, voice soft like a blanket, and hopes Magnus doesn’t realize how much he means it.

Magnus pulls away right when he thinks it, and Alec freezes for a second, but then he realizes that goddamned smile is still there. Magnus clasps Alec’s arms once. “Thank you,” he says, like someone closing a business meeting.

Alec won’t have that. “You wanna talk about it?”

Magnus sighs. “I just… Hate it.” He feels silly for only being able to say that, but he feels emptied. Not of feelings, because they sure are there, swirling inside of him like seasickness; but of words, not only for Alec’s sake, but for his own.

It’s like he’s disconnected from himself, from his own perception. He has the feelings, but not the tools to really make them his. He feels stolen from himself, and that might be the worst part of the whole thing.

Magnus thanks the gods for the way Alec seems to understand that so easily, not getting frustrated at his stupid words, but rather gently nudging him into talking. He pulls Magnus gently to the couch, sitting him down. “I get that,” he says, calmly, kneeling down in front of him.

His eyes are intense and focused on him, and looking at them feels like watching a storm out of the window. Safe and almost disconnected, but not enough to be blind to its beauty.

“I guess I just… Thought I was free of her,” he says, biting his lip. “I haven’t seen her in over a year. And then she shows up all of a sudden...” He looks away. He knows there’s no judgement in Alexander’s eyes, from experience and rationality as well as emotion. But facing the intensity of his eyes feels a bit too much like facing the intensity inside of Magnus, and he needs to be eased into that. Alexander doesn’t comment or try to force him to look, just waits for him to continue, and he’s grateful for that, too. “And I know she only did it to hurt me, and…. Why? What did I do to her? I don’t get it.”

“You didn’t do anything, Magnus. It’s not your fault.”

“I know it isn’t! I do! I just don’t get it,” he cries, frustrated. “Why does she want to hurt me so much? Why does it work?”

He stops for a second, a little embarrassed by his outburst, a little in need of more air.

“It’s taken me so long to- to get over her. To become more than what she did to me. Don’t,” he says, raising his hand to stop Alec’s half-formed protest, “I know that it’s not like that, but it felt like it. It felt like she had changed me forever. Taken me forever.”

He tries not to let his eyes glass over, not to get too deep into the way she made him feel. He doesn’t want to be there again.

“I know I’m mine again.” He pauses. He feels frustrated that his speech only seems to come in these disconnected, short phrases. Usually he’s so good with words; they flow smoothly out of him, and he can easily play with them, make jokes, use them as he wants. Feeling like a child struggling to learn prose only makes his smallness more latent. “I’m not what I was before her, and I won’t be, but I’m something else, something that belongs to me. That exists in spite of her, not because of her.”

He stops, and Alexander smiles proudly. It only lasts for a second.

“But then she shows up,” Magnus continues, and sags so quickly it’s almost deflation. He’s half surprised he doesn’t fly away without direction like a balloon being emptied. “And suddenly I’m so small. I look at her, and I see a version of me that’s just so- weak.”

Alexander reaches out to wipe away his tears. He didn’t know he was crying, but now he can feel the weight on the bottom of his eyes, where they accumulate like they’ve reached a dam. He’s thankful that he only ever uses waterproof makeup.

But Magnus just continues talking, suddenly feeling like he can’t stop anymore. “It’s like regressing completely. I feel so powerless. I shouldn’t be this powerless. Why can’t I just- shake her off?”

“Magnus,” Alexander says, cupping his face gently, slowly. Giving him time to shy away from the touch. Instead, Magnus melts into it. It feels good, grounding, and he needs it. Alexander doesn’t move Magnus’ face in the slightest, but suddenly he’s looking into his eyes again, so Magnus must have. They still look like a storm, and still feel like a shelter. “You’re not weak for being upset. Hell, I’m upset, and I’m not the one who went through all that.” He pauses and breathes, like he’s calming himself down.

It feels almost too easy for Magnus to launch into worrying about him, so he takes a deep breath too. Alexander’s fine. Magnus doesn’t need to feel guilty. It’s okay.

“She designed the whole thing to upset you, to blindside you. How is it your shortcoming that it worked? And even then, you stood up for yourself,” Alexander reminds him. “You told her to go away. You say you feel powerless, but even then, you didn’t cower. You had the strength to stand up to her.”

“I barely did anything,” he protests.

“You did enough. She left. And you’re okay. You didn’t go back to her, or, or feel guilty somehow, you’re just upset that she’s such a monster. That only makes you human, if you ask me.”

Magnus laughs, despite himself. It feels watery and convoluted, like it’s tripping over itself, but it’s still laughter, and it’s genuine. “I suppose,” he says, and even if it’s quiet, his voice feels less small.

“You told her to go away. You stood your ground. You didn’t let her walk all over you. Even if you didn’t, that still wouldn’t make you weak. They’re called defense mechanisms because they work. But you should give yourself more credit for being able to face her, and not fall back. It only proves that she didn’t get what she wanted. You’re still yours. She lost.”

“I suppose,” he repeats, but it’s not mechanical. Tired, maybe, but not in that hollowed-out way he sometimes gets; it’s the kind of tiredness that proves he’s real. “But it still feels so- frustrating.”

“Well,” Alexander says, daring to flash him a small smile. It’s not pitying, exactly, more like tentative, “there’s only so much logic can do, after all. It’s still horrible that she went so far just to hurt you. It’s ok to be upset. We all are upset on your behalf.”

Magnus huffs out half of a laugh. “Thanks. I guess I just… Need to feel it out.”

“We can do that,” Alec quickly says. “What do you wanna do? Talk some more, or just cry, or-”

Magnus manages a full laugh this time. Alexander’s so goal-oriented sometimes, like he’s only expecting Magnus to give him his instructions and then everything will be okay. It’s endearing, how eager to help he is, even when there’s nothing anyone can really do. “No, it’s okay. Can I just- lie down on your lap for a while? And then we go from there.”

Alec smiles at him, and he’s suddenly struck with the realization that he just told Alec what he wanted, simple as that. He smiles back. Alec’s right. He’s not back to what he was.

“Okay,” Alec says, sitting down by his side on the couch and tapping on his thighs invitingly. Magnus laughs again, and lies down without further ado.

Magnus didn’t talk much, or really cry, in the end. A few tears rolled down, but it felt more like letting go than being washed over, natural. Alexander kept stroking his hair, just as silent, and just as comfortable.

Magnus loves it when Alec pets his hair, the way his fingers thread so carefully in his hair, soft and tentative. Just a brush of his fingertips at first, then, as they both seem to get eased into it, the palm of his hand as well. His movements are short and slow, but somehow intense and strong - which is so Alexander, he thinks. Short and to the point, and somehow manages to express all that it needs.

It also makes him feel grounded, focused on his touch like there’s nothing else. He lets the tension out one sigh at a time, and every time he looks up, Alec’s smiling at him, like he can see all that fills the air in their silence. It makes Magnus feel a little stupid, and like he really, really needs to kiss Alec’s cheek. But he’s very practiced in self control, and he’s not about to ruin what they have.

He does allow himself to lightly caress Alec’s stomach, though. It’s just a little reassuring touch. He’s only returning the affection Alec’s showing him. It’s fine.

He looks up, and Alec’s still smiling at him. He smiles back. It feels comfortable, and he relaxes. He didn’t disrupt the moment. Alexander’s fine with this - he usually is, but then again, Magnus is not sure whether or not Alec knows about his inconvenient feelings for him, and he doesn’t want to push it too far. The moment feels so perfect, the kind of thing that goes well with soft music and a slow, almost lazy fade-out in movies. He can already feel it registering as a memory, of comfort, of happiness, of Alexander’s little grin, so private and beautiful.

His phone buzzes.

He moves his hand from Alec’s belly to retrieve it from his pocket, and just like that, the moment’s gone.

It’s a text from Raphael. I know I already asked you this, but are you okay? it says. Magnus can’t bring himself to be annoyed, not with the almost boyish way he struggles to express his worry.

Yeah, he quickly types, I’m okay.

It’s not a lie.

Eventually, he feels good enough to get up, and at this point it’s a little too late for Alec to go back to the dorm. And, if Magnus is being honest, he doesn’t want him to.

‘I’m gonna get your mattress,” Magnus says, “then I’ll make something to eat. Thank you for staying,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

“I can make us something,” Alec says, and Magnus grimaces.

“I’d rather not eat something completely terrible after the day I’ve had,” he answers.

“Hey!” Alec answers in outrage, “It’s not always terrible. I can cook something simple, it’ll turn out fine,” he crosses his arms over his chest. Magnus would feel a little bad for making him so defensive if he didn’t still have vivid memories of the time Alec tried to make them gnocchi.

How was I supposed to know you can’t use whole wheat flour, he had said. By looking it up, Magnus answered. Who the fuck wanted to use whole wheat flour, anyway? They already were college students, hadn’t they suffered enough?

“Come on, you have spaghetti in here, don’t you? I’ll just make us some real quick while you set up the room. Put some tomato sauce, nothing elaborate. Cross my heart,” Alec insists. Magnus pretends to think it over for a moment just so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“Okay,” he says, “but I’ll be the one to season it. I’m not about to eat some bland salt-and-pepper only shit. I grow my own ingredients at home for a reason.”

“Fine,” Alec says as he opens the cupboard to get the pans, and Magnus doesn’t miss his smile.

The pasta turns out okay, even if it’s a little past al dente. Magnus’ a pretty okay cook, too - it’s pure biochemistry, after all, no matter how much everyone rolls their eyes or how much Raphael starts mumbling that cocinar es un acto de pasión when he says it. Besides, he likes trying out new combinations, mixing up the ingredients and the seasons to make new flavours and textures; he feels like a wizard making a potion. The difference between him and Alexander is that he doesn’t decide to experiment for the first time when he’s cooking for other people.

They eat in silence, and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, although admittedly he’s a little lost in his own thoughts. Alexander even manages to run to the sink and wash the dishes before Magnus remembers to do it himself, which shows that he’s really off his game tonight. Still, he’s tired, so he limits himself to tsking in Alec’s general direction and letting him finish up.

It’s worth it, too, for the way Alexander smiles at him as he cleans, towel draped over his shoulders. And if Magnus’ heart feels like it’s beating more softly than usual, almost carefully, then that’s for him to sort out. And if he smiles back and looks at him for a little too long, he can probably pass it off as tiredness. Alexander doesn’t seem to mind it, either, because he just looks back at him, until Magnus reluctantly looks away and heads to the bedroom to change into his pajamas.

It’s both good and bad that they’re comfortable enough for Magnus to stare at him without it being too weird. On one hand, he doesn’t want to ruin his friendship with Alec - on the other, he probably will if he keeps this going.

Alec kind of proves his point by showing up looking almost sheepish just a few minutes afterwards, so Magnus heads to the bathroom and locks the door to take his makeup and hair gel off while Alec changes. When he comes back, Alec’s already lying down on the mattress Magnus put on the floor - he does have another bed frame, but the only mattress big enough to fit Alexander’s offensively long legs doesn’t fit in it, so the floor it is.

He climbs into bed and turns off the lights.

The air is thick with stillness for a second, and Magnus almost thinks they’ve been encapsulated in time. It’s almost unbearable, but in a way that settles within him and makes him feel powerless to break it.

“So,” Alec says, “looks like we have a date.”

He’s always admired the way Alexander cuts through these barriers, the ones that feel so oppressive to Magnus, like he hadn’t even noticed they were there.

Maybe he really hadn’t. Maybe they only exist for Magnus.

“It appears that way, yes,” he answers, playing with his earlobe, and Alexander chuckles.

“So, you wanna go? I mean, we won’t be getting any chances to eat at such a fancy restaurant again anytime soon. Might as well enjoy it, right?”

Magnus turns on his side to look down at Alec. Their eyes meet so fast Magnus is taken aback for a second, realizing that Alec’s gaze hadn’t flickered when he turned. But when he looks back, Alec is looking at the ceiling, and he can feel the awkwardness settle in his bones. Flinching when he sees Alexander’s eyes like he can’t even handle that. No wonder Alec felt uncomfortable. “I mean, you will,” he says.

Alec turns to look at him, frowning. “What?”

“Your other date,” Magnus clarifies. He almost laughs at the way Alec’s frown only deepens. He’d throw a pillow at him, but he doesn’t want to move that much, “You were auctioned too, remember? Admittedly, I wasn’t paying attention, but even if he doesn’t meet your ever-growing standards, you’ll still get free food.”

Alexander has never been on a single date in all of the time Magnus has known him. Magnus had asked him, once, whether he had ever considered that he might be just asexual or aromantic, but Alec had looked so confused by the suggestion Magnus kind of felt like an idiot. Uh, no he had said, flabbergasted, I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just. Very sure that I feel, hm, attraction. For men. So.... And that had been that.

Alec just laughs. “Izzy won it, then promptly ditched me and decided to take Meliorn instead,” he huffs at their name, shaking his head.

“Oh, stop pretending you hate Meliorn, they’re nice,” Magnus chides.

“I’m not saying I hate them, I’m just saying she should choose her big brother once in a while. She has three partners! Three! I can’t compete with that. My family is falling apart,” he says dramatically.

Magnus rolls his eyes, “you love Clary and Maia.”

Alec huffs. “Maia, maybe. Clary? Not so sure.”

“Cut the crap, Alexander, I know you were the one who gave Clary Isabelle’s number.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny.”

Magnus laughs, and when he turns to look at Alec again, his smile is just as bright. “Fine, maybe I think Clary is good for her.” Magnus is about to nod, but then he adds, “too good! Now she’s gotten confident and is building a whole harem and doesn’t care about me anymore! Soon I’m going to graduate, and without seeing each other constantly at uni, she will forget who I am!”

“You have lunch together every Saturday,” Magnus points out. Alexander and Isabelle were attached by the hip. If the dorms weren’t gender-separated, they would probably still be living together, and Magnus was pretty sure they actually would once she graduated. They acted like those weird, stereotyped twins you see on TV sometimes.

“And yet, when she has the chance to take her big brother to a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, she immediately ditches him.”

“You wouldn’t want to go on a date with your sister,” Magnus points out.

“No, but I would want to fight over who can eat more breadsticks and pretend I’m surprised when it turns out it’s her.”

Magnus can’t help but laugh. “Well, I suppose we can do that, then,” he says, “I’ll even let you win, as thanks for saving me tonight.”

“No you won’t,” Alexander answers, sunnily, and every bit like he wouldn’t have it any other way, “but I will win anyway, of my own merit.”

Magnus grimaces, and does throw the pillow at him this time. It’s worth the moving for the way Alexander laughs, delighted, in that way that makes Magnus feel like he just earned a prize. Alec could be very closed off when he wanted to - Magnus could still remember the day he had first joined the Club, eyes bouncing around the room like he expected the cops to burst in at any minute - and Magnus treasures the fact that he could get Alexander to be silly and carefree like the joy that it is.

Once he calms down, he turns to look at Magnus again. His eyes are so hazel and so soft. “So, we’re gonna go?”

Magnus reminds himself that Alec is not asking him out. “Of course. Why waste the opportunity?” he says, very casually, like he isn’t about to go into Pining Overdrive, and Alexander smiles at him. “Now give me back my pillow,” he says.

“Don’t think so,” Alexander answers, but does return it when Magnus starts swatting in his direction.

It doesn’t take long for Magnus to fall asleep after that - it never does, really. He’s an early-sleeper, early-riser kind of guy, and tonight has been emotionally loaded to say the least.

Alec is not an early-sleeper, early-riser kind of guy. More like the “overthinking everything you’ve ever done at night” kind of guy.

Don’t get him wrong, he can be up early when he needs to, but he’s never quite gotten the whole “sleeping early” part down. And, even though the night was also emotionally loaded for him - with all the hard work setting up the auction, then the despair after seeing Camille, the anger, the heartbreak of seeing the way she still affected Magnus - this usually meant that he would be less likely to sleep, not more

He rolls over on the mattress for what feels like the hundredth time. Did Magnus find it weird that he was staring at him? He really didn’t mean to. He had just turned to ask Magnus something and then- forgot. Magnus’ eyes had looked so lively then, a true contrast with the tiredness clearly written all over his face - which Alec was glad he didn’t try to hide for once. They were just so brown, and shiny, and beautiful, and crinkled at the corners just so, and he felt drawn in. He always did.

But the last thing he wanted was to make Magnus uncomfortable, especially in a day like this. He knew Magnus wasn’t interested in him - Magnus hadn’t been interested in anyone after Camille, and he had mentioned to Alec more than once that he felt like he needed a break from relationships, particularly in the first few months post-breakup. And he had made his peace with that. Even if it didn’t stop the way he felt, because - well, what could? Magnus was amazing and fun, and felt like freedom and smelled like sandalwood, called him Alexander and every time they talked Alec felt happy.

That’s what it narrowed down to, really. Magnus made him happy.

So he wasn’t about to ask him for more, not when being with him already felt like taking flight, and he definitely wasn’t going to put Magnus in another difficult position if he could prevent it.

Now, if only he could do something about his own difficult position.

His arms feel too big and empty, and his pillow smells like sandalwood. Magnus’ soft silky sheets feel too light, and he wants a kind of weight on his chest that doesn’t feel at all like the one he currently has.

He wants to be able, to be allowed, to be wanted to draw Magnus closer, drape his arms around his waist and appreciate the fact that they’re the perfect height for his chin to rest over Magnus’ head. He wants to be lulled to sleep by his scent. He wants to kiss the back of his neck and hear Magnus giggle in his arms, soft and happy and glad to be there with him. He wants to stroke his hair and hear the way he sighs and see the way he melts. He wants Magnus to give him a kiss after teasing him for his snores. He wants to pepper kisses all over his face for no damn reason, and hug him, breathless, when he smiles. He wants to say “I love you”. It feels so ready, so right, on the tip of his tongue. I love you. Lighter than a feather, natural as air in the way it’s so unmistakably real. It’s the truth the world is built on, like water, like earth. So simple it can’t be anything but grand.

And it’s locked up inside of him.

He lies down and thinks it, but he can’t say it. It might be worse than the rejection itself - the way this feeling feels caged inside of him, thrashing and screaming and somehow still resigned to its trap.

He looks up and Magnus is facing him, face almost falling off the bed, looking peaceful and safe and calm. It’s too close for comfort.

Too far for comfort.

Alec rolls over again and tries to ignore the ghost of sandalwood in his nose.

When Magnus gets up for Fajr the next day, Alexander is still fast asleep, his little snores deep and slow enough to almost lull Magnus back to sleep. One of his hands is wrapped around his own belly and the other is outstretched in the direction of Magnus’ bed, falling from the mattress into the floor. Magnus almost snaps a picture and makes a meme of him instead of God in that one Michelangelo painting, but thinks better of it. He doesn’t want Alec to think he’s some creep watching him sleep, or something. Besides, he looks too adorable for Magnus to risk waking him up.

So he opts to get up, offer his prayers, and make them breakfast instead.

Alec wakes up to the sound of his own stomach grumbling, and a musical laughter that follows immediately after.

When he opens his eyes, Magnus is in front of him, holding a tray with breakfast. Alec’s usually pretty grumpy in the morning, but he can’t have a foul mood when Magnus is smiling at him like that. Especially if there’s food involved.

“Orange juice, strawberries, and toast. Burnt to a crisp, since, if I do recall correctly, that is how you like it,” Magnus says, sunnily.

He takes it back. He absolutely can be in a foul mood. He groans, “will you let it go? That was, like, a year ago.”

“Not until you admit that you fucked up the toast,” Magnus sing-songs, his tone not changing in the slightest.

“I wanted it burnt that day,” Alec counters, “I just never wanted it burnt any other day. It’s a specific mood that strikes me very rarely.”

“Well, in that case, best be prepared, don’t you agree?” Magnus answers, even as he slides the second toast that was on his own tray to Alec’s plate. That one is perfectly brown, just a hint of butter spread evenly, exactly how Alec likes it.

Alec doesn’t comment on it. This has been a part of their morning routine for a while now.

Well, not that he sleeps over at Magnus’ every day or something - it’s just that when he does, Magnus does that. Maybe part of the reason he doesn’t admit he burnt the toast without meaning to - Magnus’ toaster is very complicated, okay, it wasn’t his fault - is because he likes that little inside joke of theirs, the easy rhythm of their little routine. It’s simple and easy and expected, and Magnus always laughs when Alec makes his excuses.

Magnus sits besides him on the mattress, and they eat.

He breaks the burnt toast in little pieces and leaves it to a very happy Chairman Meow as they leave for class.

The fact that Magnus’ apartment is so close to campus means they can afford to have a slow morning, and is one of the few things Magnus has to be grateful to his father for. He has no idea what he would do if he had to live in the dorms - the idea of being in the girls’ dorms was humiliating, and of being in the boy’s dorms, terrifying. At this point, Magnus can pay rent for himself - he leads his own team in pharmaceutical research for quite a big company - which is good, because it means Asmodeus can’t use that to demand Magnus’ presence in his painfully boring board meetings. But still, if Asmodeus hadn’t helped with rent, he might have had to give up his scholarship, and would have never gotten to this point: walking calmly with Alexander through the halls of his building, with enough time to spare that Alec could walk him to class and go to his own in another building without a problem. Alexander was adorably slow in the morning, which meant he walked through the halls rather than marched through them, and listened to Magnus speak with a dumb little smile in his face that Magnus shouldn’t love as much as he did.

It was funny that he seemed to smile so much in the morning when he hated it so much. Maybe it was just that he wasn’t functioning enough to keep his sour facade.

The first thing they see when they get to Magnus’ classroom is Izzy - who, unlike Alec, is as energetic in the mornings as always. As a (future) forensic pathologist, she has a lot of classes with both Magnus and Alec, even if she’s a year behind them - she’s just that smart, plus she has a pretty convoluted schedule that Magnus will never understand how she manages to balance with the rest of her life.

“Big brother. Magnus,” she says, a delighted little emphasis when she gets to his name, almost like a tease, as she goes over and hugs Alexander. His smile turns even softer then. There’s definitely something about the mornings, Magnus thinks. “How are you?” she asks when it’s Magnus’ turn to be hugged, looking up at him with these worried, shiny eyes of hers.

“I’m fine, dear,” Magnus answers easily, “the crisis was averted, no need to dwell on it.”

Alec huffs, grimacing, “Her very existence is a crisis.”

Izzy elbows him lightly, and Alec looks at her like she just stabbed him. “You’re still allowed to be upset. The fact that she even tried that at all is sickening.”

“I suppose,” Magnus muses, “but it’s not surprising. She hates being left behind. I think she needs to prove to herself that she still has the upper hand.”

“By stalking her ex years after the breakup like a weirdo?” Alec asks.

Magnus is kind of pitying Izzy’s elbow, “by showing that she still has power over me. When just her mere presence paralyzes me, she knows she still holds the power, and that’s what she needs. To feel in control.”

“You still won, though,” Alec says, and both Magnus and Izzy look at him, surprised. “By being okay, by asking her to leave. You’re proving that your inner strength outdoes her destructive force. You,” he says, putting a single finger in Magnus’ chest for emphasis, “are winning, and that’s why she’s so desperately terrified.”

Magnus is speechless for a second. He can feel the air stuck between his lips, a soft puff of surprise. Then he smiles, looking up at him. “Thank you,” he says, and even though his voice is small, he feels whole.

Alec smiles back, and for a few seconds it’s just Magnus, the never-ending hazel, and the corners of Alec’s lips. Then Alec coughs and says, “right. I should probably get to my own class,” because other people are already starting to get into the classroom.

Magnus blinks, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Alexander’s morning slowness was getting to him.

“Right. Have a good one, Alexander.”

“Bye, big bro,” Izzy says, eyes glinting with mischief.

Alec waves at them, and leaves.

Heard you ditched your own brother for Meliorn, Magnus texts her instead of paying attention to class.

Well, I wouldn’t want to steal him from you, she shoots back almost immediately, which speaks volumes on just how boring Mrs. Herondale’s class is. Magnus and Izzy are not exactly model students, but you can’t keep the kind of grades they do if you don’t know, at the very least, how to keep a good slacking-paying attention balance. But they both already know all of what she’s saying, so there’s that.

Very funny, he answers playfully. He’s never really told Izzy about his crush on Alexander - that would be awkward - but she figured it out anyway, which isn’t exactly surprising.

He couldn’t complain, though. She never told Alec anything and kept her teasing strictly for when Alec wasn’t there. She is a good friend. Although I am curious to know why Meliorn. I’d think fancy dinner dates are more of Clary’s thing, he continues.

Yes, well, Clary and Maia have this cooking class they’re taking together every Saturday, and I’m not allowed, she says, and Magnus tries his best not to laugh. It is a smart move. so it’s only fair that I get to take my other partner instead. Kicked out of my own triad’s date night. Unbelievable.

I am weeping at the tragedy that is your love life, he answers, and hears her snort beside him.

I’m just saying that the least I deserve is to have my own date night with my beautiful, beautiful, beautiful partner. They just got a sidecut and let me tell you, she sends him a bunch of chef’s kiss, clapping, and 100 emojis. Magnus can’t argue with that. If he were into the whole open relationship thing, he’d definitely want to date Meliorn as well. and it’s gonna be fun! We’re both gonna try the foods with the most unpronounceable names and drink our own weight in wine. AND you and Alec can have your own dinner night. We made our reservations for Saturday night, so you make yours for another night and you can romance in peace. This one is followed by a single winking emoji, and Magnus grimaces.

Oh yes, Alexander and I plan on romancing very hard. We’ve made bets over who can eat the most breadsticks.

Izzy sends him the eye-rolling emoji. Then, right afterwards, I suppose it’s important to know how much your partner can fit in their mouth.

“Ew,” Magnus says out loud.

“You have a problem with intracellular digestion, Mr. Bane?” Mrs. Herondale asks him, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all, ma’am,” he answers easily. Not other than the fact that he’s known this since first year. Of high school.

“Good,” she answers, and goes back to writing on the board.

When he looks down again, there’s another message already waiting for him. Don’t go all prude on me, it says.

I’m not. I just think it’s disgusting that you made a joke about your own brother getting a blowjob.

I didn’t make a joke about my brother, I made a joke about your crush. Very different

This may have escaped your attention, but my crush and your brother are, in fact, the same person.

I have no idea what you’re talking about. My brother is called ‘Alec’. Your crush is named ‘Alexander’. Completely different people.

You’re very good at compartmentalising, he notes.

Thank you, she answers.

He turns to his notebook right in time for his phone to light up again.

Besides, Alec does deserve a good blowjob, too. Only the best for my big bro.

Ew, he writes.

Contrary to Magnus’ previous theories, Mrs. Herondale’s class does end eventually, and when he and Izzy head out, Alexander is already there waiting for them.

He always comes to wait for Izzy after this class, since the two of them have the next one together. Magnus doesn’t get why he needs to come all the way to the biochem institute when they are going to head back to the medicine building anyway, but he supposes it’s just part of their siblings thing.

Then again, he wouldn’t know. He’s an only child, and his father had hit him more times than he had hugged him.

Not that he hit him often. It’s just that there were even fewer hugs.

“Magnus,” Alec says, smiling.

“Alexander,” Magnus answers, not quite smiling back.

“Hey, big bro,” Izzy says from behind him, and Magnus barely hears his small Izzy in response, but does see the way he looks almost shocked when she links their arms together and smiles up at him, like she doesn't do it every time. Magnus giggles a little, and Alexander looks at him like he’s just been caught dancing alone in his room, which only makes him giggle more. He’s too adorable.

“What?” he asks, almost defensive and definitely a little flustered.

“It’s just, your face,” Magnus answers, “if she weren’t your sister, I’d think you were scared of her.”

“He should be,” Izzy supplies. Alec rolls his eyes.

“I am very scared of her. Anyone who wears actual heels to class is, at the very least, insane,” Alec shoots back.

“That’s one way to look at it,” Magnus says, “another way is, if she’s going to suffer for a degree, might as well suffer for beauty too. Two in one.” he points at his own makeup at that, and shoots Alexander an almost self-deprecating smile.

“I really don’t believe in that,” Alexander says, quietly.

“Me neither, but it’s the best attempt at rationality I can make.”

Alec hides his following laughter behind his hand, and Magnus flashes him a proud smile.

Izzy, on the other hand, looks indignant. “You’re really gonna make fun of me while in full makeup and hair gel?”

“These aren’t uncomfortable,” Magnus argues, “besides, I do it to express myself, not for beauty. And since I’m trans, you can’t argue this point without sounding insensitive, so I win,” and flashes her his most annoying, shit-eating smile. He hears Alec snort.

She looks unimpressed. “And the skin-tight pants?”

“Ah,” Magnus says, and Alec full-on laughs this time.

He’s saved from looking unwitty by the sight of Dr. Garroway walking down the corridor. “Well, never let it be said that the lack of bells left me at a disadvantage. Bye, you two!” he says, sprinting down the corridor to another classroom before they can reply.

“You’re gonna see each other at lunch, Alec, there’s no need to watch him leave until the very last second. I swear, when you two start dating you’re gonna be like these insufferable couples that keep eating each other’s faces between every damn period.”

He grimaces, and pointedly ignores Izzy’s when. “Don’t ever say that again,” he deadpans. He still has nightmares from Kurtis-and-Amanda and the time he almost had to touch them in order to get to class. It’s like these people think they’re on Titanic or something. Everyone gets it, you were apart for 50 minutes. Jesus Christ.

“I mean, you two are cute, so if anyone can pull this off without being disgusting, it’s you.”

“You see, I think the problem with the world is that every one of these couples had a friend to tell them that.”

Izzy laughs in that particular way she always does when Alec makes a joke that isn’t directed at her - delighted and with just a small hint of surprise. It’s gotten rarer as Alec’s jokes became more frequent, but it’s still a sound he very much enjoys.

“And speaking of you and Magnus, what about that date?” she says in her typical teasing and nosy tone, a sound he very much does not enjoy.

He conveys that through a grimace. “It’s not a date, we’re going as friends.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your advanced flirting techniques. Breadsticks, Alec? Really?”

“Well, he was the one who said he would do it. Were you grilling Magnus for information about this?”

“Very subtly, I promise,” she smiles at him, and he doesn’t believe her at all.

He huffs and begins to walk. They have a half-an-hour window between Izzy’s class and the next one, but he still pretends to be very focused on getting to the medicine building in time. Izzy is unbothered, and just keeps talking as she follows him.

“Seriously, Alec, why not take this chance? It’s gonna be nice,” she insists.

“There’s no chance to be taken,” he deadpans.

She rolls her eyes. He doesn’t see it physically, but he does spiritually. “Stop trying to close off to me, you know it won’t work. I’ve had years to get used to it and you are out of practice,” she points an accusing finger at him. He sighs, and stops walking.

“I mean it, Izzy. If I wanted an opportunity to tell him how I feel, then yes, this would be it. But I’m not, so we’re gonna eat breadsticks and keep on with our lives,” Alec says, crossing his arms.

Izzy looks like he just threatened to stab her, and somehow still less bothered than she should. “Come on, Alec. Don't you want him to at least know? Hiding doesn't do you any good, big bro," she says, in a way that would make him annoyed if she weren't staring at him with those big shiny eyes of hers. They always look like such a tragedy. Alec can't help but want to comfort her, even if this isn't about her about all.

"I'm not hiding. I'm telling you about it. I just don't want to tell him. He doesn't want a relationship and it's the least I could do to respect that."

"It's not disrespectful to feel, Alec," she says, holding him by the arm and all but forcing him to look at her tragedy eyes. "And even if he didn't like you back, don't you think he would like to know he's loved?"

"He knows he's loved," Alec argues. That much is true. Magnus might have his bad days and even trouble dealing with displays of love, but he knows he's loved, and he's been relearning that for a while now.

She sighs. “You know what I mean, Alec. What happened to your whole speech about how if you ever got the chance you’d romance him and how you didn’t get how Camille would not take her chance to treasure him like he deserved, and-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Alec is not blushing, “it’s different now that I know that’s not what he wants.”

“They’ve been broken up for over two years, Alec. Magnus hasn’t said anything about whether or not he still thinks he isn’t ready. You don’t know how he feels about it now.”

“I’d still rather not assume.”

“And yet you’re assuming.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. He stares at her. Her eyebrow keeps raised. He keeps staring.

“Look, just go to the date, enjoy the whole candlelit table and flowers thing, have fun, and see what happens. Give yourself a chance,” she says, giving up before he did for once. He knows it’s for his sake, but he’s still gonna pretend it’s a victory. “Worst case scenario, he still doesn’t want it, and even then, he’s not gonna break. And you are going to be respectful and move on knowing you said how you felt.”

“We’re gonna be late to class,” Alec says.

Izzy lets it go.

Alec and Magnus are having lunch the next day - one of the few days in the week they both have enough time to - when Alec puts his tray down in front of Magnus, sits down, and says:

“So, when do you wanna go? On the date, I mean.”

“And a good day to you,” Magnus answers.

Alec rolls his eyes, “We’ve talked this morning.”

“Did we? I seem to only remember you grumbling.”

Alec has the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

That makes Magnus pause, fork still halfway to his mouth. “Are you okay?” he asks. He knows Alec has a tendency to overwork himself, which Magnus really hates because it forces him to be a hypocrite and tell him not to. But it’s not even the end of the semester yet, and even if Alec is grumpy in the mornings, he usually manages to sleep okay at least.

“Yeah,” Alec answers nonchalantly after swallowing quite a big mouthful of pasta, and then proceeds to not elaborate.

Magnus raises his eyebrows at him, loudly.

“I promise I’m fine,” he says, corners of his mouth tugging up in a smile, the way they always do when the smile is showing despite himself. It always makes Magnus smile, too, and for a moment they stay like that, forks still hanging in the air, shy smiles whispering at each other.

“So, the date,” Alec finally says after a while, and Magnus snaps back to reality.

“Oh, yes, yes. Uh, I think I’m free the whole weekend? How about, huh, Friday night? Does that work? You don’t have any classes on Friday night, right?”

Alec scowls. “After the Mr. Aldertree - sorry, doctor Aldertree - fiasco? Don’t think so. I’ve learnt my lesson.”

Magnus laughs, “No offense, Alexander, but I honestly have no idea what you expected.”

“I expected a guy who’s done groundbreaking research in his field to have a modicum of common sense and teaching skills.”

“In this economy?”

“And also not have an ego bigger than the state of Alabama.”

“In this economy?”

Alec huffs, but Magnus can see the mirth in the corners of his eyes. “Fine, so maybe I’m an idiot. But I’m never an idiot in the same way twice.”

“Ah, an exercise in creativity, I see.”

Alec looks like he would be throwing something from his plate in Magnus’ direction, but there’s only pasta in it and throwing a single spaghetti in Magnus’ face wouldn’t have the desired effect. It’s a very specific look.

“Still, I’ve learnt my lesson. No more Friday night classes.”

“Okay, so.... Friday night?”

“Yeah,” Alec says with a small smile, “Friday night.”

FRIDAY night, huh? says a text that Magnus gets from Izzy that night.

At the risk of sounding cliché, can I pick you up at 7? says another one, from Alexander this time, not five minutes later. Magnus would have needed to remind himself this is not a date, if Alec hadn’t sent, the restaurant is closer to yours and it’s easier if we go together.

Magnus shudders at the thought of waiting for Alec alone in a fancy restaurant full of white snobs. Yeah, good thinking. He answers. Then, 7 sounds lovely.

Magnus rolls over on the bed, not knowing what else to say, and resolutely doesn’t think about how that sounded awkward and strained, and how a full night of having to remind himself Alec is not taking him on a date is going to be torture.

They don’t get to see each other the whole friday, which - is not unusual, actually. Magnus has 2 different lab classes on friday, so before the classes he’s always doing last minute studying, and after them he’s always chatting with Dr. Garroway. His love for lab classes is cute, really, and Alec loves the way his eyes light up when he talks about it. He just hates that he doesn’t even have the time to have lunch with him. And Alec has a pretty tight schedule, so he doesn’t have time to go and pay him a visit - which, look, is fine, it’s not like they’re attached by the hip.

But on that particular friday, it has him feeling nervous when he gets to Magnus’ loft, like it’s his wedding day and he hasn’t been allowed to see his future wife all day - which is ridiculous. He’s gay - and he doesn’t know what to expect.

Well, except he totally knows. Magnus is gonna look beautiful like he always does, probably in something silky-looking, his favorites. They always look expensive enough to fit just about anywhere - he’s probably gonna go for burgundy, his comfort color, which is great because it really suits him like no other-

tux… . e do..., he thinks when Magnus opens the door.

“Hello, Alexander,” Magnus says, all of his usual grace. The rings on his hands look smaller than usual, and his eyes are smoky and drawing all the attention when you look into his face.

tumx, Alec thinks, a little wonkly.

(It’s not really a tux, of course. Those are expensive and might be a tad much. But it’s a good suit that draws attention to his broad shoulders and his narrow hips, brings out the grace in his movements and makes his waist look perfect for Alec to slip his hands on, and that’s enough for him not to be able to tell the difference)

he has…… arm his brain supplies, right before he processes that Magnus is looking at him worriedly. His head is tilted to the side slightly, like a cat’s, and jesus christ, how is he so adorable?

“Alexander?” Magnus tries again, waving a little like he’s scared Alec suddenly lost his vision, “are you alright?”

“Fiiine,” Alec says, but he’s not sure whether he’s talking about himself or Magnus’, hm, ensemble.

Magnus looks at him like he doesn’t believe him, which is frankly offensive. He’s alright! More than alright. In fact, he might be dying!

Come on brain, think them thoughts, Alec tells himself, mentally slapping his own face. “I’m fine,” Alec says. “You just look very…” he makes a vague hand gesture, then realizes Magnus might actually be stupid enough to think he means it in a bad way, “you look stunning,” he finishes, and stubbornly looks directly into Magnus’ eyes as he says it. It’s worth it for the way Magnus flushes just a little bit, corners of his mouth twitching involuntarily as he looks himself down. He’s so beautiful, especially like this, when he’s pleased and unafraid to show it, happy and safe.

“Thank you, Mr. Lightwood. You look rather dashing yourself,” Magnus teases, doing that little head thing he does where he bobs it slightly a few times and perks up. It’s secretly one of Alec’s favorites, despite the fact that it usually means Magnus is teasing him.

“Can’t go wrong with a classic suit,” Alec answers, doing a little twirl.

Magnus laughs as he finally closes and locks the door behind him. “You’d be surprised,” he says, then extends his hand to Alec. “Shall we?”

Warm, Alec’s brain supplies one last time when Magnus jokingly interlaces their arms.

“No breadsticks?” is Alec’s first comment when he sees their table. Magnus resists the urge to elbow him.

“I’m afraid we don’t serve these here, sir,” the waitress answers, in the tone of a person who’s expecting another to throw a tantrum, and is but slightly inconvenienced by that. Magnus can’t help his small wince of sympathy, and Alexander looks appropriately sheepish.

“Oh, hm, no, that’s, that’s no problem,” he rushes to say, “I just kind of, hm, assumed, I guess. Sorry, hm,” he flails his hands around a little, and Magnus hides his smile. The waitress doesn’t, pleased and amused.

“That’s quite alright. You gentlemen make yourselves comfortable, and when you're ready to order, just call for Helen.” she smiles, leaving them to each oth- to their menus.

“This one is yours,” Alec says, handing his menu to Magnus.

Instead of taking it, he frowns. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the halal menu,” Alec explains, pointing at the small symbol on top. “I guess when Ragnor heard about the reservations he made sure to have it ready for you.”

Magnus feels the best kind of warm. The old man was a true softie. “That’s really thoughtful of him,” he says. He really didn’t have to. Magnus could have easily picked something that was allowed, and it’s not like Ragnor’s restaurant worked with a lot of haram foods anyway. But he appreciated the thought, deeply.

And if he feels like a hypocrite when he still orders a glass of wine, well.

It’s not that he doesn’t drink. He avoids it, and he avoids particularly strong stuff, and he never allows himself to get drunk or intoxicated, like the Quran says. But sometimes, well. Sometimes the urge to get just a little more comfortable is stronger than him.

Having Alexander smile up at him from the other side of a candlelit table like they’re sharing a secret is definitely one of these times.

Allah will just have to forgive him.

Alec raises his eyebrows when he sees him eyeing the drink menu. “We’re drinking today?” he asks, not unkindly. Magnus knows Alexander would never judge him for his faith.

“Well, as long as I don’t get drunk, it should be fine,” he answers easily, “besides, when will I get the chance to try something as fancy as this? We’re having this for free.” He knows his voice is way too smooth to not be a lie, but Alec only chuckles. “What?” he asks.

“Well, you probably could afford to come here if you really wanted to. You’re friends with the owner,” Alec points out, “and besides, I know you earn well.”

Magnus scoffs, “look who’s talking.” Mr. I’ll Waste Two Thousand Dollars To Stick It To Camille.

“You know I don’t want to depend on my parents,” Alec answers, truthfully. And yeah, Magnus knows that. But-

“I’m sorry that you spent so much money on me,” Magnus says, not knowing what else to do to express just how grateful he is that Alec did it, and at the same time, how guilty he feels about it.

“I’m not. You’re worth it,” Alec says, the softest punch Magnus’ gut has ever taken.

He almost chokes, but when he looks up, Alec is looking straight at him, with those intense, sincere eyes of his. It feels almost like a challenge, but somehow like they’re also on the same side. He opens his mouth.

“Are you gentlemen ready to order?” Helen asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Magnus jumps, and she smiles at him like she’s going to pretend she didn’t see it.

Alec lets out a little “yes, hm,” and gestures vaguely at Magnus. The waitress makes no comment on his special menu, or his beverage choice. Alec finishes his order with “and to drink, same as him, please,” and Magnus smiles slyly when Helen leaves.

“Oh, we’re drinking today, I see,” he says, a little pleased with himself. Alexander drinks even less than him, and he doesn’t think he can forget his face when he first tried vodka.

“Hey, why not? Gotta make it count,” Alec says, shrugging a little exaggeratedly. Then he looks at Magnus and adds, “besides, trying something new can be good, sometimes. New beginnings and all that.”

“Famous last words,” Magnus laughs.

Alec makes a face at him. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me to do?” he challenges.

“Me? Never,” Magnus shakes his head, mock-serious, “I like you just the way you are,” he finishes, not as mock-serious.

Alexander smiles brightly at him, and suddenly he can’t bring himself to regret saying it.

Ugh, he hasn’t even drunk anything yet, and he’s already running his mouth.

As if summoned by that thought, Helen appears by their side, bottle of wine in hand. She presents it to Magnus for inspection. “Huh,” he says.

“Oh, let me,” Alec grins. “My mom loves doing this,” he says when Magnus raises his eyebrows, and he knows from Alec’s wicked smile that he’s in for a treat. The waitress bites down a smile and puts a little bit of wine in his glass. Alec nods solemnly and raises the glass. “You need to check it against the light, to make sure that it, hm, lets you see the light,” Alec explains, “then you shake the glass a little, slightly, like this,” he says, his long fingers gripping at the base as he swishes the wine, “and then you smell it,” he takes a sniff. “Yup, wine,” he adds, and this time both Magnus and Helen do laugh. “Then you taste it and say a fancy adjective at the end,” he takes a little gulp. “Effervescent.”

Magnus almost doubles over. “That’s your fancy adjective? Effervescent?”

Alec looks way too pleased with himself, and perhaps the wine was a mistake, because Magnus is already feeling a little mellow. Alec gestures at both their cups, “it’s pretty good, thank you,” he says to Helen, and she smiles as she serves the both of them.

Magnus eyes his glass once she leaves, then finally raises it to Alexander. “Well,” he says, “to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” Alec says, a little strained, and their glasses clink together.

Alec is not very resistant to wine.

He should have known. Neither is his mom. He still has very vivid memories of that one time he had to carry her from an italian restaurant after she drank a single glass of wine, giddy and chuckling and unstable on her feet. Izzy was very scared.

(So was he, a little bit. Maryse had always been a straight line; double edged, stable and to the point. But he knows, now, that he likes her better when she isn’t.)

He’s not quite that drunk. He’s pretty sure he can walk. The food also helps - Maryse had left without eating anything that day. But his mind is foggy and his tongue is loose and he’s leaning just a bit too much forward. And the scariest part is that he likes it, a little bit.

Alec has always hated feeling like he’s losing control - he likes his mind clear and sharp and attentive. But there’s something about this that just feels right - him relaxed, not overthinking, looking at Magnus exactly as much as he wants to. It doesn’t even feel unfamiliar, really - being here with Magnus, lightly touching the roses placed on the table between them, fingers twitching to put them in Magnus’ hair. He knows roses aren’t his favorites - he’s a jasmine guy, which is absolutely fair and wonderful and beautiful and honestly Magnus is right. Alec knows the reason is that they remind him of his mom, but Magnus would have to be blind not to know how beautiful jasmines look next to him. They’re both gracious, delicate in a way that doesn’t hint at weakness. On the contrary, their vulnerability is as obvious as it is hidden, a beautiful treasure, a faint smell, a cacophony of secrets lying in the simplicity.

“Flowers suit you,” Alec says musingly, still twisting the flowers delicately between his fingers. He would never hurt them, after all.

Magnus chuckles, and Alec makes a face. It’s unfair that he looks so much more composed than Alec does - he’s the one who actively avoids drinking, for fuck’s sake. Then again, Magnus’ walls have always been thicker than Alec’s. Especially when they are together.

Well, that’s not exactly true - he knows Magnus allows himself to show sides to Alec that he doesn’t show to most, particularly after Camille. Alec knows that Magnus’ trust is a treasure, and a rare one at that, and he marvels at having it, even if just to look at and admire.

But there’s always something that seems to be holding back within Magnus, something like fear when they’re around each other. He hates the idea that he makes Magnus uncomfortable in any way, but he doesn’t know how to help it.

Especially if the reason is the one he thinks it is.

He hates the idea that the way he feels is what makes Magnus hesitate so much around him, but he can’t really hold it against him.

Magnus finally speaks, his voice carefully removing the thoughts from Alec’s mind like they’re a small animal. “Flowers remind me of home,” he says. Alec almost says me too, but there have never been flowers in his mother’s house, much less in his dorm. “My next door neighbor when I was a kid was Balinese. Every day I would wake up and feel the smell of her incense burning, the flowers she left for Vishnu at her doorstep. When my mom was sick, she helped take care of her, and me. The flowers protected my mom, helped her pass easily,” he muses, “that’s really all I could ask.”

Alec instantly sobers up. “Well, I’m glad that you had her, at least. And the flowers,” he says, heartfelt. He hates the idea of Magnus being alone through that. He knows what his mom meant to him.

Magnus smiles at him. “Yeah, I can’t complain.” His hand reaches out to touch the same rose Alec’s fingers have been playing with, and for a split second, their fingers brush.

Alec doesn’t move for a second, caught up as he is in how much he enjoys it, but Magnus does. Alec suppresses a sigh and tries to backtrack. “I don’t mean it like that. I just meant- I’m glad you had that comfort.”

“I know,” Magnus says.

Magnus is not very resistant to wine.

He looks at his glass and pouts. Objectively, he knows he’s far from intoxicated - but Magnus is a giddy drunk, even when he’s just slightly tipsy. He feels a little jealous. Alec just looks a little more retracted, a little more musing. He’s almost afraid that Alec is bored, with the way his eyes seem to zero on Magnus like he’s deep in thought and barely aware of his surroundings. But he knows Alec is just - thinking. What about, he sure as hell doesn’t know.

But Magnus feels light and giddy and giggly and he envies Alec, just a little bit, for not feeling like he does right now - like he’s bubbling inside and needs to calm down and watch himself before he says something stupid. And Alexander is just right in front of him, talking nonsense about flowers, and looking beautiful in the intimate light, and at least Magnus can thank his giddiness for being a damn good mood breaker, because otherwise it would feel like they were having a moment.

As it is, though, he can just about remind himself that their relationship is strictly platonic.

“Shut up,” Alec says, pointing an accusing finger at him, but he can’t quite wipe the smile off his face, “you know I’m not big on drinking.”

“Well, so do you, and yet you decided to do it anyway,” Magnus points out, hiding his chuckle by taking another bite of his food.

“Excuse you, I was being supportive,” Alec counters.

He scoffs. “Supportive of what? My overboard-going tendencies?”

Alec rolls his eyes. “You only ever drink when you’re uncomfortable. And I didn’t want you to feel weird or bad about it, so I broke tradition with you.”

“Uh huh,” Magnus says, so he can ignore Alec’s overwhelmingly simple sweetness, “and I suppose Izzy really needed your support to drink a full cup of vodka in that party.”

“Oh my God, you promised to let it go-”

“I did no such thing.”

“You did. On that very same day.”

“Well, breaking a promise is only wrong the first time.”

“How is that true in any way?”

“I mean, it’s been a few years. You already know I won’t let it go.”

“It wasn’t even that bad!”

“No, but the face you pulled-”

Magnus laughs just at the thought of it, even more so when Alec makes a sour face at him.

“I had never tried it! I didn’t know it would taste so-”

“So what?”

Alec makes a face. “Alcohol-y”

“You didn’t expect alcohol to taste like alcohol?”

“I thought the point of making a drink was that it would taste like something edible! You know, so you can get drunk without having to go through whatever that was.”

Magnus laughs again, loud and carefree. “It’s plain vodka in a plastic cup, Alexander, not a cocktail.”

“It’s a damn lie, that’s what it is.”

“I don’t think it counts as a lie if no one ever pretended that vodka tastes good,” he counters.

“Izzy did! Izzy definitely did! Hell, Maia too-”

“And you trusted Maia?”

Alec looks defensive. “Well, Meliorn too-”

“And you trusted Meliorn?”

Alec stops and looks at him with wide eyes. “You are right,” he says, like the truth shakes him to his core, “I’m an idiot.”

Magnus laughs again, and some white guy in a nearby table shoots him a look for being loud, but at this point, he finds that he doesn’t care anymore.

A few glasses of water later, Alec and Magnus are walking back to Magnus’ place, the cool night air helping sober them both up.

"That was fun," Magnus says. His tone sounds like laughter, and Alec can't help the smile that blooms on his face. Not that he would have any reason to fight it. "I know we only went as friends, but… It's been so long since I've last been on a date. I'd missed it."

"Really?" Alec asks. He doesn't stop dead in his tracks, or trips over his own feet, falls on his face and smashes his teeth into his skull, dying instantly, but it's close. His pace lowers considerably.

"Yeah," Magnus answers, giving him a look that perfectly conveys that Alec is being weird. But Alec doesn't really care, because he knows that, and also he feels like he's close to a breakthrough. His whole body is buzzing with anticipation, like an idea is about to be born.

None of that must be showing in his body language, he thinks, because Magnus starts to cower, like he's afraid he's done something to scare Alec off. That’s what snaps him back into reality, and thankfully he’s faster than Magnus’ hiding tendencies.

"I thought you didn't want to date anyone. After Camille," he says. Not overeager, not demanding. Just curious, conversational, giving Magnus room to answer without feeling pressured.

He does hold his breath, though.

Magnus seems to muse for a second, which unknots something that sat heavily on Alec's belly - he doesn't want a pre-fabricated answer, so he's glad Magnus is actually thinking it over - and uses the ribbon to make a thousand others in his chest.

"I didn't," Magnus says. Then, after a small pause, "I couldn't. After everything, I felt like- I couldn't trust anyone. Couldn't trust myself," he emphasizes. It's something Alec kind of admires, how Magnus always thinks over his words, tries to express his feelings in the most accurate possible way. Sometimes Alec feels like words get the best of him. But Magnus handles them carefully, like they're precious, and dangerous. Like someone who wants to be understood. "To be with someone, when I knew I could- let them treat me like that. I know it's not my fault," he says quickly, raising a hand to interrupt the ghost of a protest from Alec, "but I knew I needed time. To heal. To fully understand what she did, and what what she did did to me. But… It's been a while now. I've found that I trust again, when that seemed impossible before. And that I know what I want. And that I can have a relationship, maybe precisely because I don't feel like I need one," he plays with his earlobe a little, the way Alec knows he does when he feels like he's spoken carelessly, "that's not quite right. What I'm trying to say is that I trust myself now, to be a part of a relationship, and not under it."

Alec nods, a little dumbly. He’s not really holding his breath anymore, but he feels like it is captive anyway. "Do you want to?" he asks, the words leaving his mouth like a gasp.

Magnus stops then, and his eyes only meet Alec's for a second before flickering down. "Yeah," he says, stillness embedded in his tone, "I want to."

Just like that.

They’re both quiet for a second, but Alec doesn’t feel still. He feels like something inside of him is taking flight and singing, like there’s a rush inside of him, like suddenly his body is flaring to life. The smile that blooms on his face then is slow, but not because it’s tentative, but rather because it is being savoured.

"It's a shame then, that I didn't take you out on a real one."

Magnus' eyes widen. "What?"

"Well," he smiles at Magnus, a little sheepish, but with an edge of something else tugging at its corners, "I had a good setup to ask you out, is all." He ruffles through his hair, a little nervous. "Not that I think you'd necessarily go with me, I mean. Just. Could have used the opportunity. If you wanted to."

"I didn't think you'd want to," Magnus admits. He's not more wide-eyed than before, but there's something about his surprise that just swims in the brown of his eyes, clear as day, and as alluring to Alec as always.

"I want to. Been wanting to for a long time," he says, in lieu of something like are you SERIOUS? because when he tells Magnus that Magnus is, well- everything, it's gonna be with prettier words, and after the simpler parts have already been established.

Magnus looks flabbergasted, but manages out a "me too," quiet and full of wonder, as he searches Alec's face. Not like he's looking for something, but like he's mapping it, committing it to memory.

Alec feels like something just burst between them, an explosion of colors, of smoke, of perfumes, like the essence of a carnival, wonder and happiness and life. And yet, they're so still. They bask in it, letting all the dancing happen in the way they look at each other.

Alec reaches to cup his face, and for a second it feels like he’s tainting something sacred. Then Magnus melts into it and smiles at him, and he feels like god with his creation at his fingertips.

He can’t do much but stare, and Magnus just stares at him right back. There’s a softness in Magnus’ eyes that Alec is sure is reflected in his, but there seems to be a distance that won’t allow them to meet. The air between them feels heavy, like a piece of rubber keeping two ends of electricity apart. It crackles at the edges, but feels powerless, stuck, unmoving.

“Let's have another one then,” Alec whispers, like he’s afraid the noise will shatter their touch and keep them apart forever. “A park. At night. Just the two of us, the moonlight, the flowers around. What do you think?"

"I'd like that," Magnus admits, in that tone of his that feels naked, that slips off all of Alec's defenses in its simplicity.

"Good," Alec says, making up his mind. "Let's go then. Right now."

Magnus barely has the time to blink before Alec grabs his hand and leads the way.

"You know, I really didn't expect the night to turn out this way," he says, almost musingly, legs kicking up slightly on the bench. It’s a beautiful night, even with the inevitable dull in the stars and moon from the city’s lights and pollution; there are no clouds, and the soft silver light that falls on their joined hands on the bench makes the whole thing look almost ethereal. Magnus usually likes the silence, but right now it feels like without words to keep them grounded they will be swept away. Which he really doesn’t want. He rather likes the way Alec’s looking at him, playing with his fingers absentmindedly and just radiating affection in that grand way of his. It feels almost weird to bask in it.

"Me neither," Alec answers, and it sounds like a confession.

There’s a moment of silence, peaceful and musing, and then Alexander startles from whatever daydream he seemed to be having. “Wait. This doesn’t have anything to do with what Camille said that day, does it?”

It takes Magnus a moment to understand what Alec means, and then he almost falls over the both of them in his haste to send that thought away. “What? No! I swear, this has nothing to do with Camille. I wouldn’t do this to you, and I’ve been pining for you far too long for it to be-” he is interrupted, half by Alec’s confused expression, half by the startled laugh that seems almost punched out of him.

“Sorry,” Alec says, seeming as surprised by his outburst as Magnus is, “It’s just- that’s not what I meant. I meant her comments about the whole trans thing,” he clarifies. Then groans, “oh God, she wasn’t talking about the money at all before that, was she? That bitch-”

“Of course you’d worry about my self esteem first,” Magnus mumbles.

“Oh yeah, because you did so different.”

He really shouldn’t feel so up for an argument when Alec raises his eyebrows at him, challenging and sarcastic, but he does. “Well, excuse me for not immediately guessing you were worried about my ex’s transphobic comments,” he says. Then he sighs, “but- not really, I suppose. I mean, I know you’re not like that. Although I can’t say it never crossed my mind on bad days, either. Mostly, I just didn’t think you liked, well, me.”

Alec looks at him like he’s just said that he thought dicks were placed under the armpits, so he feels the need to defend himself. “And you’ve never shown interest in anyone!”

“Yeah, anyone that wasn’t you.”

Magnus pauses. “Well,” his hand hovers between them, an aborted gesticulation whose meaning even he doesn’t know, “I didn’t know that.”

Alec huffs, “and here I was, thinking that I was making you uncomfortable. Even Izzy told me to take it down a notch!”

That one is knew, Magnus thinks. “That doesn’t sound like Isabelle.”

“Well, it was more like ‘stop wasting all your energy in pining and use it to ask him out instead’, but I wasn’t gonna do that, so, you know, that’s basically what she meant.”

Magnus doesn’t know whether to burst out laughing, make an offended face, or frown, so he’s sure his face is doing something really weird right now. If Alexander notices, he doesn’t comment on it, but his eyes seem too soft for someone who has.

“I can’t believe Izzy knew all this time,” he mumbles, instead of addressing all the other parts.

Alec looks offended, “hey! She’s my sister! I tell her this stuff. Well, not that she needed me to, but, you know.”

Magnus laughs. It’s funny how, despite the sense of unrealness and stillness that’s still settled between them, it seems so easy to be talking to Alec about their feelings. It feels like any other natural conversation between them, like one of these late night sleepover talks when he could barely process what he was actually saying. Warm and comfortable and safe. “That sounds like Isabelle. She knew about me, too,” he says, “I guess I should be thankful that she didn’t tell you.”

Alec’s whole being softens at that. “She’s a good friend,” he says, looking intently at their joined fingers.

“She is. But I’m still not sure if I’m all that thankful,” he’s only half-joking, but when his eyes flick from said fingers to Alec’s face, he finds that he can’t resent anything that brought them to this.

“Well, I am. I’m glad we got to do this in our own pace.”

Magnus can’t argue with that. “I suppose,” he says, looking away.

He feels Alec’s hands caressing his hair slightly, and can’t help but turn to look at him. He shouldn’t be surprised by the way Alec looks at him - Alexander’s never been anything if not honest, and he’s always known that all the tenderness in the world could easily fit into his eyes. But it still takes his breath away, the warmth that they radiate, the fact that right now it’s just for him.

He feels humbled, and so, so lucky. It fills him to the brim, and when he takes a breath, the air between them feels renewed, and incredibly light.

“Magnus,” Alexander says, and his hand comes to rest on Magnus’ cheek again, a reedition of a few moments ago, when he had filled Magnus with wonder just as full and just as easily. “I’m glad we’re here.”

“Me too,” he breathes out, easy as truth.

They kiss, and it feels like redemption.

“Oh, shut up,” Magnus says, bumping their shoulders together, and if it was supposed to be a form of retaliation, well, Alec’s smile should tell him he didn’t succeed. All it served was to remind him that they were holding hands, which Alec was absolutely ecstatic about. Even more contact sounds like the opposite of a problem to him.

He raises Magnus’ hand and kisses the back of it. Magnus freezes instantly, and he feels a little sheepish. “Too much?” he asks, Magnus’ hand still almost touching his lips. Still held in his.

“No such thing,” Magnus says, easily. It always gives him a little whiplash, how quickly Magnus recovers from these shocks, but he knows Magnus is being sincere. It’s right there, on his eyes. “I don’t think ‘too much’ is a term anyone would use for your side of this,” he flails his hand around slightly, “for lack of a better word, relationship.”

“Relationship sounds great,” Alec says.

Magnus smiles at him, small and private.

“You’re not too much,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

His smile disappears, but there’s something brighter in the corner of his eyes, and Alec can’t say he minds. He kisses the back of Magnus’ hand again. “I want you just like this, Magnus. I’ve had plenty of time to know that I love every part of you.” He knows he might be coming off too strong, but he knows Magnus is insecure about this, knows how many times Camille told him he’s too loud or too bright or too whiny or too - everything. Everything Magnus was, she wanted to erase, like it would make him better. He doesn’t want him to think he needs to stop being for Alec to like him. He likes it when Magnus is.

And if coming off too strong is the price to pay for him knowing that, it’s worth it.

But if the way Magnus is smiling at him right now is any indication, he thinks he’s coming off just perfect. It’s not a feeling he knows very well. Or, well, that’s a lie - he knows it very well with Magnus. But everyone else seems to think he expresses himself too bluntly, too simply, too harshly. One time he was even told he had “the emotional vocabulary of a child” - one of the weirdest insults he had ever heard.

But Magnus liked that. Magnus knew what he meant and didn’t add new meanings to things he never said and understood exactly what he meant. It was a breath of fresh air, to just say, and be understood.

It’s always so natural, with Magnus.

“Well,” Magnus says, “glad we cleared that up.”

Alec can’t help it. He laughs.

“Yes, well, I think we had enough misunderstandings already.”

“Like I said, shut up,” he huffs indignantly, “there’s no way I could have known-”

“Oh my God, Magnus, are you serious? I’ve never been able to conceal a feeling in my entire life-”

“That’s a lie and you damn well know it, Stoic Lightwood-”

“How is it a lie, everyone noticed-”

“Well, if that’s the metric we’re gonna go with everyone noticed my crush as well.”

“I have an excuse! Two excuses! You told me you didn’t want to date again-”

“That was two years ago!”

“Well, you didn’t take it back!”

“Well, I thought by this point surely I wouldn’t have to-”

“Humankind has spent millenia trying to develop accurate and understandable language, and every time you don’t use it, you spit in its face.”

Magnus laughs loudly - a bark that seems to be almost punching its way out of him, ungraceful and sudden, one of his favorite Magnus sounds - and, way more gracefully, spins so he’s in front of Alec and pulls him by their still linked hands. He takes a second to look at Alec, as if asking for permission, so Alec beats him to it.

And just like that, they kiss, a sloppy thing that loses its rhythm in the constant interruption of their giggles, their focus more on the bright newness of this kind of touch than on the actual kiss. The back of Magnus’ neck is hot and smooth under Alec’s hand, his buzzed hair prickling at his skin and making him feel like it’s caressing him back. Magnus melts into it, the way Alec knows he always does when his scalp is touched, but even with this knowledge he can’t help the wonder that overcomes him. Finally, he’s allowed to do this with no what ifs in the back of his head. It’s just them, being.

He opens his eyes slowly, savoring everything that comes into focus - the corners of Magnus’ lips, tugging up; the soft glow that Magnus’ skin gets at night, brown and beautiful; Magnus’ eyes, so honest and bright. The small market on the background, the one where Magnus always goes to buy his herbal tea and is friends with the entire staff.

“Magnus,” he says slowly, “aren’t we a few blocks past your loft?”

Magnus blinks. Once, twice. His eyes refocus slowly, like there’s something swirling behind them. Alec forgets what he was talking about.

“Ah,” Magnus says, “looks like we are.”

They look at each other.

“We should probably go back,” Alec says.

“We should,” Magnus agrees.

Neither of them move.

Alec’s hand is still on Magnus’ neck, he notices. It still feels warm, and if he brushes his thumbs against Magnus scalp, he can see his eyes fluttering for just a split second.

Magnus breaks first. “You can stay over,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s cold. And dark. And the campus is not very close. The walk back could be dangerous. You know,” he says.

Alec smiles. He’s heard that speech many times over the years. It was an almost inevitable conclusion to most of their hang outs.

It usually ended with Magnus saying, “and I have the big spare mattress for you.” Alec is glad it didn’t. He kisses Magnus once, just because he can.

“Sounds like a great plan,” he says.

They’re still giggling when they get to Magnus’ loft.

Alec is a teddy bear, Magnus finds out.

He was slightly scared that asking Alexander to sleep at his would make him think Magnus wanted sex, which - wouldn’t be a problem, per se, except it’s been way too long since he’s last done it and it still feels like it’s tainted with memories of- pain. And exposure, and humiliation.

And not the good kind, either.

So he’s not sure he doesn’t want that yet, not when this feels so new already, and he’s scared that he won’t be able to say no to Alec, or that if he does, that Alec will be disappointed, that Alec will think Magnus doesn’t trust him, that Alec will reject him. Instead, Alexander asks him shyly whether or not he should get the mattress; and the smile that blooms in his face when Magnus says “I thought maybe we could… Cuddle,” is not something Magnus will forget soon.

Magnus puts on his pajamas and Alexander does his whole T-shirt-and-boxers thing with the spare clothes he has at Magnus’ - not on purpose, there’s just always something he forgets to take home, and at this point it’s just practical to leave them there for next time - and when Magnus comes back from his night prayer, Alexander is already on his bed, arms spread wide.

Magnus scowls. “I don’t believe I said that the bed was gonna be all yours, Alexander,” he says.

“There’s plenty of room,” Alec counters.

“Oh, really? Where?”

Alec smiles like he just fell for a trap, but it’s not predatory. It feels less like looking into the abyss and more like reaching the top of the roller coaster. He might fall, but he knows he’s safe.

Alec launches on him, grabs him by the waist, and falls back on the bed with Magnus on top of him.

“Very comfortable,” Alec says.

Magnus blinks, but he’s nothing if not adaptable. “Can’t say I disagree,” because, well. Alec is strong and warm and his arms are wrapped around Magnus, and yeah, he’s definitely slept in worse positions.

He’s glad that Alexander is so comfortable too, because if it were up to him things would be a lot more awkward. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he still isn’t sure Alexander would. He suddenly realizes that he has no idea what Alexander is like in a relationship - whether or not he’s big on PDA, or clingy when they’re alone, or romantic, or reserved. And there’s still a part of him that doesn’t feel- allowed to ask.

But that’s the good thing about Alexander, isn’t it? He knows what he wants and doesn’t expect Magnus to know as well. He always tells him and always listens to him in return. Magnus feels a little lighter, less tense. Of course, he’s known for a while that relationships can- should feel like this, hell, he’s experienced it. But to feel it again is like a discovery, nevertheless. He eases into it, glad to know he’s comfortable, and smiles.

Alec is smiling right back at him. “Yeah?” he says.

“If I’m being honest,” Magnus replies, a little teasingly, “I don’t remember what we were talking about.”

Alexander laughs, grabs his face and kisses him. Kisses him in the lips, then cheeks, forehead, collarbone, teasing little butterfly kisses that have Magnus giggling and trying to stop from thrashing - he doesn’t want Alexander to stop, not really, but it’s a kneejerk reaction. Whether it’s to the ticklish sensation or the sudden affection is something he doesn’t want to think about.

And he doesn’t have to, because Alexander just keeps it up, holding him and kissing his face and smiling so wide it’s like his dream is coming true. Magnus smiles back when he stops for breath, allowing himself to bask in the moment.

Alexander runs his fingers through his hair. “I love you,” he says.

“Love you too,” Magnus sighs in response. It feels automatic and easy, like it’s a well-established ritual, like they’re saying it as they’re old and gray and holding hands as they watch the stillness right before the sunset. Like the words are a part of time itself.

They both realize what just happened at the same time.

“Uh,” Alexander says.

“Well,” Magnus says, licking his lips, “might have gone a bit fast with that one.”

“Is it fast if technically I’ve known for over a year?”

“That’s a great question,” Magnus pretends to muse, “what do you think, Alexander?”

Alec can’t help the grin that takes over his face at his full name. “I think it’s long overdue,” he says, instead of showering him with kisses all over again. “Been feeling really deprived, you know? Wild fantasies of telling you that I love you, sleepless nights having naughty thoughts about cuddling.”

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus answers, delighted, “cuddling?” in his best mock-scandalized voice.

“Even worse,” Alec confesses solemnly, “spooning.”

“Well, I’ve always had a reputation of being wild,” Magnus says, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, “but you turn off the lights.”

Alec groans, and Magnus doesn’t think he’s ever smiled so wide before.

The next morning, Alec wakes up to Magnus disentangling himself from Alec’s arms, and a musical laughter when he desperately tries to hold him against his chest for a little more. “I’m just getting up for Fajr,” he says, kissing Alec’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a second.”

He wakes up again not twenty minutes later, to Magnus getting back to the exact same position as before, well secured in Alec’s arms, legs tangled in his.

Izzy doesn’t ask a single question when Alec tells her he won’t make it to lunch that day.

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authorgreybrooke · 5 years

Text

Undisclosed Truth

The academy was a turning point. Sophie thought about it every day. The moment she chose her career over her own heart. The day she hurt Kate. Those pieces of paper were slid across the desk by an angry-looking instructor, and he told her that this was her last chance, that if she didn’t sign that she could leave, permanently. Everything she had ever worked for would vanish in an instant.

Kate would never understand, not completely. They both were women in a predominantly male-dominated field, they were both called inefficient, not good enough, not strong enough; men would stand in front of them, speak over them, or ignore them entirely. They worked twice as hard to be considered half as good. Kate, however, was a rich girl, who belonged to an important family, no matter what, Kate would be okay.

Sophie came from the middle class, everything she had achieved, she treasured, like gold in her chest that only she could feel the weight of, and she appreciated it every day. Where Kate was carefree and fearless, Sophie was determined – she had grown up with little and she would refuse to go back to nothing, not after everything.

It broke Kate’s heart, Sophie saw it on her face when she explained what she had done. Kate would be okay. Sophie felt the gold in her chest crack that day, just a little.

The day passed and Sophie counted them, training, studying, aching through moments. The people above her eventuality forgot about her tiny transgression, after a few horrid months of constantly reminding her and waiting for her to fail. Sophie became one of the best, an unstoppable force, a prized soldier. Then she met a nice, clean, sharp-jawed man that everyone approved of, and she married him when he proposed. The wedding was small and quick, she had never thought of getting married before and now it was something she had ticked off her perfect-soldier-list. A list she never created but that she had tucked away to make other people happy.

When she became a Crow she’d thought that she would feel fulfilled, finally and yet all that she felt after almost a decade was exhausted. She’d pushed through life to become another person’s vision of a good soldier, and when Kate returned to Gotham City, still fearless, still so very beautiful, that heavy gold in her chest began to crumble.

“Stop!”

The sky was littered with shiny stars, unusually for Gotham, which is often cloudy or foggy so high up. Someone hired by someone else had stolen something very important and then had chosen to run across the rooftops in an effort to escape the Crows. Sophie and a few other Crow’s chased after him, leaping over air vents and swinging from fire escapes.

The thief was young and panting heavily, he would give up before the Crows. He jumped over an alley, a gap between to buildings and landed awkwardly on his left foot. He cried out and stumbled the rest of the way across the roof. Sophie lept over and barrel-rolled, easily dispersing the impact. The Crows following her hesitated, flinched and then didn’t jump, stomping there feet and huffing indignantly as they watched Sophie outrun them.

Sophie smiled as she closed in on the poor lad, bringing her shoulders up and bending her knees a little more, readying herself for the takedown.

“Don’t come any closer! I’ll drop it! I will!”

Sophie staggered to a stop and looked between the thief and the drive that he held over the edge of the building. “Okay. Okay. Easy.”

“I’m just the tech guy! I didn’t want to do this!”

“Well, you did. You stole something pretty valuable.”

“Do you even know what’s on here?”

Sophie paused. “Well, no…”

“If you did you would get out of Gotham. This place is infested with evil.”

“Okay…” Sophie took a step forward, raising her hands to show passiveness.

“It’s not just good guys and bad guys anymore, its… Monsters. This city has monsters!”

“I hear you.”

“I wanted to leave. To go work for this big tech company across the country. But they said that I was too valuable. They won’t let me leave. I’m stuck.”

The thief was skinny, with messy brown hair and a wrinkled collar shirt. He wasn’t a villain, he wasn’t even a decent criminal by the look of him. He was sweaty and crying and babbling.

“What’s your name?”

“Josh. Joshua.”

“Okay.” Sophie lowered her arms. “Josh. That drive is not worth your life.”

The wind picked up, a breeze blew Josh’s tie across his chest, and he stumbled a bit with the wind, swaying closer to the street.

“Give it to me now and we can both walk away.”

Josh’s feet shuffled closer to the edge. “You don’t understand. How could you?”

“What don’t I understand, Josh?”

“I’m a coward.”

Sophie froze, something about his expression altered, became defeated, limp, accepting.

“I did so many bad things for them. I never wanted to be the bad guy.” He looked over his shoulder towards the Bat-signal the shone several buildings over, slightly faded against the starlight.

“It’s okay, Josh. Let’s just end this here.”

“Yeah. Its time for this to end.”

The drive slipped from his fingers and Sophie sighed, frustrated as the smashing sound echoed upwards a second later. Then Josh lifted his arms at his sides and Sophie realised a second too late…

“No, Josh! Wait–”

He let himself fall backwards, off the building, almost ten stories from the ground.

Sophie rushed to the edge and looked over just in time to see Josh being lowered safely to the ground by a figure with very distinct bright red hair. The tiny nerd fell on to his ass trying to scramble away from the Batwoman, seemingly more afraid of her than he was of the Crows just a few minutes prior.

Batwoman looked up from the street and Sophie pushed away from the edge, unable to focus on the hero at that moment, she had a very long report to write.

The adrenaline drained from her body as she slowly walked towards the fire escape on the other side of the building, her muscles felt heavy and head began to hurt, just at the base of her skull. Sophie tapped her radio and felt the tension in the radio waves as explained that the target and the thief were gone.

…

The other soldiers were smug. At least that’s what Sophie felt when she walked passed them, she felt like she had failed and they had expected it. She could work for years to be perfect and then one thing would make her feel like that young girl in the academy, judged, looked down upon, dismissed easily. The truth may be that the other soldiers liked her – even respected her but Sophie would never feel that way completely, not after all of the sacrifices it took for her to be the perfect soldier. Not after cutting pieces of herself away until there was nothing left except the reflections and expectations that she saw in everyone else.

The debriefing was quick and sharp, cutting at her a little more. The Crows were disappointed and unenergetic with the loss. The only person who won in that situation was the Batwoman, she had saved another citizen. Sophie kind of hated her for always being able to do the right thing. A majority of the time, however, Sophie admired the Batwoman, she idolised her even, like most people who lived in Gotham.

…

The Batwoman had become a beacon of hope, her picture was sprayed on walls, it covered the news, it dominated social media and she was all the citizen could talk about, save for Alice and her Wonderland crew. The people spoke with reference and awe with regards to the new hero, they worshipped the Bat-signal that flew across the sky; they prayed to it and wished upon it.

Sophie spoke to Batwoman, in the middle of the night, in her car, before she built up enough courage to walk through her front door. The Crow would look up at the sky and search for the Bat, and even if the light wasn’t shining completely through the gloomy clouds, Sophie would smile just knowing she was out there, somewhere.

Sophie would try to speak to her husband, Tyler, about all of the conflict in her head but he could never really understand, he had never lived anything close to the life that she had lived.

Every day was the same, work harder, be stronger, be better, don’t let them see you weak, don’t them see you bend or break, keep going, don’t stop, eat, sleep, repeat.

One night, the pressure behind her eyes had built up too much and Sophie was afraid that she would burst, that she would scream at her husband that she didn’t love him and that she couldn’t breathe. So, instead, she told him that she was going for a run and then found herself sitting on a park bench, angrily wiping away the wetness from her eyes.

When it got too cold, and her knees began to quiver every time the wind brushed them, Sophie stood and began to walk, and eventually, she found a familiar clinic, surprised that it was still open at two o'clock in the morning.

After calling out, knocking twice and receiving no response, Sophie carefully stepped inside and found the doctor sprawled out across one of her beds with a sliver of saliva on the side of her mouth.

“Mary? Mary. Mary!”

“What! What? I’m awake. Why am I awake? Soph? What the hell?” The doctor waved her arms about and awkwardly pulled herself into a seated position on the creaking bed.

“Sorry. I saw the lights on. I was in the area.”

“What time is it?” Mary pulled back the sleeve of her white coat and gasped at her watch. “Shit. I was supposed to lockup and go home three hours ago. My mother is going to skin me alive.”

Sophie grinned and leaned back against the wall. “She still doesn’t know about this place, huh?”

“No. Not exactly. She probably still thinks I’m some party slut.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No, but I love the look on her face when I fake stumbling in for breakfast on a Sunday morning.”

“You don’t mind that she has this image of you?”

“Nope. As long as I get to do what I really want, it doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

Sophie looked at her feet, it was just one of those days where she feels didn’t as brave as she was trying to be.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah… No. Not really.”

“You want vodka? We can talk about it.”

“You have vodka? So you really are just a party girl.”

“What? No. It’s for sterilizing things. When the supplies a low I use what I can get. Also, it was a gift from a very nice Russian thug I patched up last month.

The pair made tea instead. That sat in the backroom on the old couch sipped their drinks slowly, drawing out the moment. Sophie wasn’t sure where to begin. Mary was patient.

“Last week I had a night off. Tyler was at work. I went to this corner store over on Parks and Fifth…”

Mary nodded and sipped her tea some more.

“…I had never been there before but it had this picture of Batwoman on the side of the wall. I was dressed in a hoodie and yoga pants. I just wanted to buy some chips and beer. A nice evening home alone.”

“I know the place. I’ve seen that wall on the Gotham city Instagram feed.”

“I went to the back of the store where the alcohol was kept. I was looking for Tiger Beer.”

“Yuck. Hate that stuff.”

“The owner comes storming up towards me with a rifle in his hand.”

Mary blinked, she watched as Sophie turned her gazed away, remembering every detail.

“He yelled at me, called me things, said that I wasn’t going to steal from him, “not this store!” I wasn’t afraid, I could have disarmed him easily. It’s just… When I wear the uniform, people see me as someone important, I’m an authority. Without it, I’m just a black woman. Two things that a lot of people don’t like, let alone put together.“

“Soph…”

“In the academy, with Kate, I couldn’t control the colour of my skin or my gender but I could control my sexuality. Being a black woman in the military is hard enough, I couldn’t be gay too.”

Mary put her tea down, shocked. “I had no idea…”

“It’s okay. How could you?”

“It’s really not okay.”

“No. It’s just life.”

Mary and Sophie weren’t that close. Mary was protective of Kate because she felt that’s what a sister would be like towards your sister’s ex. Yet, in the fluorescent light of her clinic, which she worked at to help the forgotten, she couldn’t help but feel guilty, she’d forgotten something important, or maybe she didn’t know that it existed, or worse, maybe she knew that it existed but she chose to ignore it.

Sophie exhaled, like the weight of the last decade had lifted slightly from her shoulders.

She had said it, finally.

#batwoman #kate kane #dc cw universe #sophie moore #mary hamilton #gotham #lgbt #lgbt deserve better #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #lgbtq #wlw love #my writing #writers on tumblr

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scripts4dreamers · 5 years

Text

Long Road to Happy

AN: You’ve loved Bran Stark for as long as you could remember, but now everything has changed and you’re not sure you can hold on to this fantasy for much longer. Characters: Bran Stark, Meera Reed, Arya Stark.

Pairing(s): Bran Stark x reader Spoiler(s): plotlines for season eight. Warning(s): Mentions of death.

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

“Gods above!” You cursed as the cold air bit into the parts of your face and hands you hadn’t managed to cover.

You wrapped your thick cloak more tightly around yourself and stared out over the courtyard of Winterfell. Preparations for the Great War seemed to be going well but, deep down you knew that they wouldn’t be enough. Even if every man and woman in the north worked for ten years, they would never be enough, the dead were too numerous, to unfeeling, too unstoppable. In the back of your mind you heard their screams, the thundering of their feet against the cave floor and felt the sense of hopelessness crash over you again. You shivered and tucked your hands into the crook of your elbow, squeezing your body tight. You’d think that having spent so many years in the north, growing up in Winterfell and dragging Bran around beyond the wall would have made you accustomed to the cold but it seemed like, as far as your body was concerned, you’d always be a southerner.

“It’ll get a lot colder in the next few weeks,” Arya Stark commented, appearing beside you like a ghost.

You jumped, but gave Arya a tired smile and tightened your grip on your stomach, “Well, luckily for me, I’ll probably be dead by then, and I’ve been lead to believe that the cold doesn’t bother zombies.”

Arya didn’t exactly smile, but her eyes crinkled up at the sides and the edges of her mouth twitched up. She followed your gaze out across the courtyard to where the red leaves of the godswood were just barely visible and you felt, more than heard, her shift her weight uncomfortably.

“The last of the wagons are leaving tomorrow. I’ve asked them to save you a spot on one headed to Highgarden, but you have to decide soon.” she said gently. You swallowed hard but didn’t move to meet Arya’s gaze, keeping your eyes locked on the godswood. She sighed and continued, “It’s been weeks since Meera left, Y/N. If you’re still conflicted-”

“I’m not talking to him about it, Arya,” you interrupted, “I already know what he would say.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He sent Meera away without so much as a goodbye!” You reminded her, surprising yourself with the intensity of your frustration, “After three years, three years of feeding him and protecting him he just-” you broke off and shook your head, blinking back tears, “I don’t know if I could handle him treating me that way.”

“But you’re not Meera Reed,” Arya insisted, gripping your forearm and forcing you to turn to face her, “you’re Y/N Y/L/N, you grew up with us, we’ve known you since we were children.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” she corrected, “Y/N, Bran-he-” she paused, “nothing is certain right now. As you said, we could all be dead in the next few weeks. You can’t leave without telling Bran, not now. Give him a chance to prove you wrong, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“He’s not Bran anymore, Arya.” you said softly, your voice breaking.

“Yes he is,” she replied gently, “for you, he is.”

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

As you made your way through the courtyard, you tried to pretend that your heart wasn’t pounding in your chest. You felt as though everyone was staring at you, like they knew what you were about to do and thought you were an idiot for even trying. Part of you agreed with them of course. After all, you’d been the one who had to listen to Meera and help her find her way home.

“Meera I’m sure Bran didn’t-”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Y/N? He’s not Bran anymore! He’s the three eyed raven, and surprise surprise, the three eyed raven doesn’t give a shitt about you or me.” Meera fumed as she shoved her few possessions into a bag.

You pressed your lips together, unsure how to navigate the situation at hand.

“Maybe if I just go and talk to him about it-” you tried, your voice fading off as you realised that you had know idea what to do.

Meera rolled her eyes but replied, not unkindly, “You think he loves you, don’t you? Or maybe you hope he does?” You blushed bright red but didn’t contradict her, which Meera took as a sign of agreement, “Well, if he ever loved you back, I think those days are gone Y/N/N. I’m sorry, truly I am, but I can’t stay here.”

You blinked back into reality, the unpleasant memory leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Meera was your friend, you’d survived so much together and seeing her leave the way she did had broken your heart. You wanted to be angry on her behalf, you really did. You wanted to rage and scream and storm out of Winterfell and never look back. You wanted to make Bran feel the hurt he’d caused her. Or at least you wanted to want that. In reality, you just wanted Bran.

The smell of smoke from the forges burnt your nose as you inhaled and you were reminded again of how much everything had changed. Winterfell barely resembled the castle you’d grown up in, now everything was harsh and sharp, ready for battle, ready for death. In a morbid sort of way, it was just like you. You suddenly had a sharp pang of longing for your childhood, for the easy days when you and Bran would chase one another through the passageways, play knights and kings in the godswood and clamber up onto the ramparts. Everything had been so beautiful then and, up until now, you’d never truly understood how far behind you those days were, how irretrievable. Bran had known, you thought to yourself, he’d known for years.

The firelight danced off the darkened trees, casting terrifying long shadows that you tried to avoid seeing. Everything beyond the wall felt strange and alien, but some small part of you still thrummed with excitement. No one in your family had ever gone this far north and, no matter what else may happen, you were with Bran. For a rare moment, everything seemed peaceful. Hodor was warming his hands, Meera was out hunting and Jojen seemed to be feeling stronger. Only Bran seemed discontent. He’d been avoiding you for days now, ever since the run in you’d had with a pack of wolves. Summer had scared them off well enough, but not before you’d gotten a nasty scratch and made a fool of yourself by sobbing like a little girl over it. Part of you wondered if you’d simply lost his respect, another part thought that maybe you’d never had it in the first place. Suddenly, Bran looked directly at you and your heart fluttered in your chest as he met your eye, smiled sadly at you from across the fire and gestured for you to join him.

“Are you alright?” you asked, trying to hide your excitement and passing him a skin to drink from.

Bran was silent for a long moment, giving you time to trace his face with your eyes, drinking in every dip and curve like a person dying of thirst looking at the last river in the world. Something was wrong and you knew it, something was weighing heavily on Bran’s mind. He was beautiful; dark and handsome with a smile that made you feel like your stomach had turned to molten lava whenever it graced his face. But now his face was sad and drawn, as though he’d seen too much which, you supposed, was accurate enough.

“I miss home,” Bran finally said, his voice small, “I miss Winterfell.”

For a moment he sounded young again, like the boy who had fallen from a high tower, and your heart pinched with concern.

“I do too,” you admitted, “but we’ll see it again someday. Once we’ve found the three eyed raven and fulfilled your destiny, we can go home and start again. We’ll take back Winterfell and reclaim the North, and everything can go back to how it was.”

Bran looked at you, something welling in his eyes that hovered between pity and awe. It made your skin tingle, like lightning was about to strike or a storm was about to break.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” he asked, staring like you were a puzzle he enjoyed trying to crack, “You believe that everything is going to be alright in the end, that we can go back and start over?”

The weight of his gaze made you want to look away, but you didn’t. You held your head up and shrugged with one shoulder, answering, “I have to. Every morning that I wake up cold and hungry or afraid, I have to believe that the next morning will be better, that all this suffering isn’t for nothing.”

Bran nodded thoughtfully, his eyes becoming sad and pained as he turned back to the fire, “I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, having had this conversation countless times over the years, “Bran-”

“I put you in danger Y/N! I put your life at risk all so that -” he broke off quickly.

“All so that what, Bran?” you asked, feeling yourself hit the same wall he threw up every time this fight started, “You know I wouldn’t have been safe at Winterfell, and I begged to be allowed to come with you.” You reminded him. Bran pressed his lips together but didn’t answer. Your chest pinched and you forced down your frustration, leaning forward to hold his forearm and willed him to face you again, “You really think, after all the years I’ve known you, I would’ve just let you and Rickon disappear into the wilderness without me?” you asked, covering his hand with your own, “Or that Theon would’ve just let me go home after he found out that you’d gotten away? We’ve been over this so many times now Bran, all so what?”

“All so that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to you!” he blurted out, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second before flicking back to the ground, “I was being selfish, and now you’re stuck out here, hundreds of miles away from everything you’ve ever known, surrounded by danger with no one but a cripple who can’t even protect himself, let alone protect you.” Bran continued, words pouring from his mouth like an opened floodgate. You felt something bloom in the silence, a kind of tension that made you oddly breathless, He stared down at your hands and slowly swiped his thumb over your fingers, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a warmth from everywhere your skin touched, “I should be sorry,” he continued softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that’s all I’ve been doing these past few days, trying to be sorry. When I saw you surrounded by those wolves, I was. I would've given anything to send you far away and know that you were safe, but now,” he said, squeezing your hands in his and shaking his head incredulously, “now I’m just glad you’re with me.” You swallowed hard and opened your mouth, willing yourself to say something, anything, but nothing came out. This time, when Bran smiled, it was sweet and fond and, when he brought your hands up and brushed his lips against your fingers, he held your gaze, “See? I told you I was selfish.”

You shook your head and let out a shaky breath, the memory of Bran’s smile swimming before your eyes as you stepped into the godswood. You found him exactly where you thought you would, beneath the sprawling weirwood, staring into the distance. The sight of him still made something in your chest leap and ache, but you pushed it aside. At the end of the day, you were here for a reason. You didn’t announce yourself and he didn’t acknowledge you.

“The night king has made it past the wall,” Bran said, as though he was commenting on the weather, “his army will be here soon.”

“Yes, I heard,” you responded. The silence that followed felt, to you, like every single word, every gesture and touch that had ever passed between you and Bran, every lost chance, and it nearly brought you to tears. You sniffed and wiped your face, hardening your resolve and forcing your emotions down.

“I’ve been wanting to see you,” he said pleasantly, “it’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been packing,” you explained, “I’m going south. Tomorrow.”

That got his attention. In no time at all the faraway look vanished from Bran’s face and he met your gaze head on, with more presence than he’d had in weeks. Some small part of you was pleased by his hurt expression, pleased to see any reaction at all really, but it was drowned out by the breaking of your heart because now it was him, Bran Stark, the man you’d been in love with for nearly a decade. He was right there and gods had you missed him.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, shocked.

“First thing tomorrow,” you answered and then, vindictively, “I thought you would have known that already.”.

“No, you can’t leave, not now.” Bran replied, his voice coloured by something that felt a lot like hurt, “Y/N please-”

“Give me a reason not to,” you replied, horrified at the note of pleading in your voice, “I don’t want to-”, You swallowed hard, “give me one good reason and I swear I’ll stay.”

Bran stammered, his dark eyes wide with shock and pain, “I still need you.”

“To do what?” You laughed as you begun to lose your battle with your tears, “stand around like a good little servant while you sit in silence and stare at nothing? Take up space until you send me away like Meera?”

Bran frowned, “I could never send you away, Y/N, you know that.”

“Why not?” you asked desperately, years of emotion coming to a head, “Why could you never send me away? Why am I still here even though our quest is over? Why were you never sorry? Why me, Bran? Why should I stay here and die with you rather than go south and die with my family?”

“Because I love you,” he answered, equally passionately, “I love you Y/N and I know, I know you love me too.”

Whatever shock you may have felt was lost in the veritable tidal wave of conflicting emotions that were tearing you up. You wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream and rage and throw yourself into Bran’s arms. A million thoughts and none at all rushed through your mind but, eventually, all you said was,

“You knew. You’ve known this whole time and you never-” you broke off, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead as a hot tear rolled down your cheek.

Bran’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, as if to touch you, before realising his mistake and sitting back.

“Not for long,” he said quickly, “I only saw it a few months ago. I wanted to say something, I did but-”

“But it doesn’t matter,” you finished, “it never mattered, you said it yourself. You’re the three eyed raven now, you belong to the realm. Gods, I’m such an idiot”

“Y/N, I will always love you,” Bran promised, taking your hand in his, “if it was any other time, any other threat I would tell you to go, to find someone who deserves you, but I need you now. I can’t do this alone.”

You looked away, knowing that his earnest, open look would break you. Everything inside of you felt raw and tender, like an exposed nerve. You felt naked and vulnerable, like Bran could see into your very soul. He loves you, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. You should’ve been happy. You should’ve been jumping with joy, but instead Bran’s confession did nothing but make you feel even more alone.

You shook your head, “That’s not enough,” you said, sadly, “I wish it was. I want it to be a good enough reason, but it isn’t.” You looked back at Bran, hoping he could see the sincerity in your eyes, “Can you promise me, right now, that the night king will win?”

“No,” he responded, “we could beat him. I think we will.”

“Then this isn’t the end,” you said, kneeling in front of Bran’s wheelchair, “I love you, Brandon Stark, I really do, I have since we were children, but I can’t spend my life waiting for you to be able to love me back. I don’t know what being the three eyed raven means for you, what you’re capable of doing, of being, but I know that, if I stay here, I’m condemning myself to a life of hoping for a future that may never even be possible.”

Tears welled up in Bran’s eyes, pouring over his cheeks like liquid diamonds. He squeezed your hand tight, swiping his thumb across your fingers, just like he’d done that night next to the fire.

“Y/N I-”

“Shh,” you said, through your own tears, “I need to say this. I deserve to be happy. I deserve love, and peace and comfort and a man who wants to be with me-”

“I want to be with you,” Bran interrupted, “but I can’t give you a family, I could never be a true husband, I-”

“I don’t need children, Bran,” you continued, “what I need is a partnership. I need you to be as committed to me as you are to being the three eyed raven and you can’t do that, not now at least.” You explained. You paused, willing him to contradict you, but he didn’t. You sighed inwardly but pressed on, “I need to leave. I need to find out who I am without you but, if we survive, if somehow we defeat the night king and Cersei and whatever else comes up, and find a way to live in peace...if that happens and you still love me, if that happens and you can be the man I think you still are, come and find me. I’ll be in Highgarden with my family.”

“What if you’re in love with someone else?” Bran asked quietly.

For the first time you openly traced his face with your eyes, every dip and curve, committing each to memory, as though this was the last time you would ever see them and, slowly, you leant in and pressed your lips to Bran’s. The kiss was sweet and chaste, and filled you with something that felt like sunlight and tasted like spring and you thought, maybe, this could be enough.

“I won’t be,” You promised when you broke apart.

Bran looked at you with wonder, his dark eyes heavy with love and loss and pain, but also acceptance. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” he eventually said, “so that I can find you when this is over.”

“I promise.”

Bran nodded and cupped your face with his hand, “I love you Y/N Y/L/N, I always will.”

You smiled sadly and stood, letting his hand fall back into his lap, “I love you too. Good luck.”

“I’ll come back for you someday, Y/N. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

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

The days were shorter now, and snow had begun to fall in Highgarden, carpeting the grounds in white as you strolled through the garden. Your family had a new liege lord apparently, Ser Bron, and, according to your father, you had a new king too. You had been home for a few months now and, while the memories of Bran had stopped aching, he was never far from your mind. It had been horrible at first. You’d wept yourself to sleep for weeks, cursing yourself for leaving, cursing him for staying, cursing the gods for making both necessary. Now, though, things were better. The kingdom was finally at peace, the night king was gone and life had regained a tenuous feeling of normality. You were yourself again, without fear or pain for the first time in years and it felt…...right.

King Brandon, first of his name. You smiled to yourself, it was still so strange to think about. He would be a good king, moderate and calculated, with no desire for power and a real connection with the people of the seven (you mean six) kingdoms. Your heart still ached for him, but you knew you’d made the right decision in the end. If everything really was connected, then your leaving had to happen and, if you could go back, you would do it all again.

Somewhere nearby, a raven croaked, familiar and calming, and the sound of an opening door and footsteps caught your ear.

“Y/N, come inside!” Your father called.

You frowned but followed his instructions, shrugging off your thick cloak and brushing the snow from your hair as you made your way to the main hall.

“Father?” you questioned, “Father, what is it? Is something the matter? I heard the door open, is someone here?”

“Just an old friend,” a familiar voice answered from behind you.

Your heart stopped and, for a long moment, you were too afraid to turn around, in case there was nothing there and you’d simply imagined it all but, eventually you turned, and let out a sound that was halfway between a whimper and a sob. Without a second thought you threw yourself at Bran, collapsing onto your knees ad wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him close.

He laughed gently into your ear and hugged you back, burying his face in your hair, his lips just barely brushing the skin of your neck.

“You came,” you laugh-cried, “you really came.”

“Of course I did,” he responded fondly, “I promised you I would.”

You smiled as you pulled away from the hug, wiping the tears of happiness from your cheeks and standing.

“Where are my manners?” you said jokingly, dipping into a deep curtsey, “Your Grace.”

Bran snorted and smirked back at you, more relaxed and happy than you’d seen him in years.

“I’m still not used to that,” he admitted, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to that.”

“You will,” you assured him, “after all, you are the king.”

Bran looked up at you and, for the first time, he looked unsure.

“Could you love a king?” he asked and, at that moment, you realised what he was asking.

Could you love me like this? Could you love a man who’s married to the realm? Could you love a man who would make you queen, but never give you children? Who hurt you and neglected you out of fear? Who let you walk away? Could you love me? You heard him and you smiled.

“Yes,” you answered honestly, “Yes, I rather think I could.”

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chocoluckchipz · 6 years

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Forbidden Love That Wasn’t - 8

< Previous Read on A03, FF.net, WattPad

A few years ago

There were only a few achievements in his life that Gabriel Agreste was genuinely proud of. One was the time when, after a carefully executed scheme, Mme Bourgeois had finally discovered his genius and opened the door for Gabriel to become the fashion icon he was today. Another was his childhood sweetheart Emilie finally noticing him and after a few years of a whirlwind romance becoming Mme Agreste. Their marriage and the birth of their son were the pinnacles of Gabriel’s life. No other time he felt so happy and fulfilled- until one day it all shattered with a horrible accident. Without Emilie his life had lost all meaning and even Adrien, the highlight of their marriage, couldn’t keep Gabriel from sinking into desperation. As Hawkmoth he had been obsessed with one idea only – to bring his wife back. He didn’t care what it cost him - any sacrifice was worth another touch, one more embrace and a single kiss from his Emilie. So, he persisted, putting Adrien and all of Paris in danger. It was all worth it. There would always be something to fix the damage, and if there wouldn't be, it was still worth it. Even Nathalie had thought so- at least until one day when she unexpectedly betrayed him by handling in her resignation and walking out. Gabriel had said nothing but when she came back the next day to pick up her things he couldn’t keep it in.

“I apologize, M Agreste, but that won’t be happening,” Nathalie calmly replied on his demands to stop this nonsense and resume her work. “I meant it when I resigned yesterday. I’ve blindly stood by your side for years, but enough is enough.”

When he pressed for an explanation, Nathalie didn’t say a lot. By her words, his pursuit had become an obsession ruining his life, and that she was done helping him in what he would probably never achieve and, in fact, she wasn’t even sure anymore that Emilie herself would want such a high price to be paid for her life.

“It’s been years, Gabriel,” Nathalie concluded, her eyes pleading but with little hope. “Probably a decade and have you moved even an inch closer to your goal? They always win no matter what you do and they always will. They have many kwamis, a team and a Guardian; you are alone and alienating everyone even further by succumbing to this obsession of yours. Your life is slipping through your fingers and for what? Your son has left-”

“He moved out for school, Nathalie! Many kids do-”

“Adrien’s been dreaming of escaping this house for years, Gabriel,” Nathalie snapped back. “Can’t you see how lonely and miserable you’ve made him feel? Sometimes even I felt like he is an orphan with a living parent.”

“He has everything he needs-”

"Emotional abandonment is a thing, and it hurts more than a physical one.”

“That’s absurd!” Gabriel scoffed. “I didn’t abandon him. He can always make an appointment to see me.”

Nathalie sharply inhaled and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I even bother anymore,” she quietly added. “Like it or not, Gabriel, but you lost your son who is alive, trying to get back the wife who’s been dead for more than a decade. If you are fine with that, then I have even less to do here than I thought.”

Turning away, Nathalie walked off in silence.

“I didn’t lose him!” Gabriel yelled as the door behind her closed with a thud. “Adrien is still my son even if he lives in a different place.”

There was no one to answer him in his empty house, but despite that, he continued to yell all of the frustration out, until a now familiar sensation of pressure and burning coiled in his chest. Gabriel stilled and inhaled deeply, composing himself back to his usual self. A heartless traitor like Nathalie didn’t deserve another moment of his and she, certainly, didn't earn the right to make him lose his composure. She wanted to quit? Good! The door was open! Scoffing under his breath, sick to his stomach and slightly dizzy, Gabriel walked away. Yet as he lay down to rest that night, he could help but admit it to himself - his house was empty, his career - barely surviving, his world all of a sudden felt like an endless void.

The time had only proven Nathalie right. Adrien hadn’t called him. Gabriel had to ask his new assistant to call Adrien, but even when that happened, they had little to talk about. Adrien hadn’t visited unless ordered by Gabriel, but even when he did, he didn’t stay for long. Adrien had kept his life private, vanishing almost completely from Gabriel’s.

Just like Nathalie.

A few times, out of the habit, Gabriel he had caught himself looking for her, but she wasn’t there. He'd hired new assistants, but none of them were competent enough, not to say he couldn't even think of letting them help him with his supervillain activities. The lack of control had driven Gabriel crazy as he tried to survive and function as usual, but nothing worked. None of the four assistants he’d hired in the few months following Nathalie’s resignation stayed. The sales of his designs were slowly but steadily declining as critics debated on why the celebrated fashion icon had been losing his touch over the past few years. His health was rapidly receding as well, the uncomfortable tightening in his chest being a regular occurrence now. Gabriel persevered. He had always been a strong and confident man. He could bear through this too and come out on top. Better than ever even!

Or so he thought. Because on one sombre evening a few months later, standing alone in front of Emilie’s portrait, Gabriel let Nathalie’s departing words ring in his exhausted mind for the millionth time. All of a sudden, an unexplainable wave of anxiety hit him. Gabriel closed his eyes, trying to concentrate but the thoughts were already running wild. What if Nathalie was right? What if he was chasing a dream that wasn’t meant to be? Should he let it go? Should he abandon his wife like he did Adrien- Adrien. A tremble rushed through Gabriel’s every nerve. His only son felt more and more distant with every passing day but he so clearly still needed him. Gabriel had much to give him yet, much to teach his son. Despite everything he wanted to be there and see Adrien grow into a strong man he knew his son could be. If only getting Emilie back hadn’t consumed all of his time. No wonder even his career was suffering – Gabriel did his job half-hearted for too long now. Closing his eyes, Gabriel leaned on a wall and slowly slid down to the floor, dropping his head into his hands. He thought he could handle loneliness and misery just fine. He had to admit himself wrong as the first tears rolled down his face.

A few weeks later Gabriel Agreste broke down in front of the different portrait – the one from which his once-happy family of three was smiling upon him. He barely slept that night, fighting with the fiercest opponent he’d ever faced - himself. What had happened in those hours no one would ever know, but as the sun had risen, Gabriel got up from his bed and called Nathalie. Emilie Agreste was officially proclaimed deceased by the authorities that same week, and a funeral was held shortly after. Adrien attended the event and hugging his father at the end, whispered in his ear that moving on would be the right choice for both of them. Little by little their relationship started to improve, just as Gabriel’s career. Hawkmoth was never to be heard of from that time on. Akumas disappeared along with him.

The time of the main events

“Adrien Agreste is single. Yes, ladies, you heard me right – one of the most eligible bachelors out there is perfectly single and had never been in a romantic relationship with Mlle Tsurugi. Don’t get your hopes up, though, because while the pair confirmed exclusively to us today that they are and always have been just friends, they also admitted that the fake relationship we all fell for was a cover-up for a modern Forbidden Love Tale, featuring Adrien Agreste and a mystery girl. Yes, that’s right - he is single, but he is not on the dating market, ladies. The identity of the mystery girl is unknown for now but we did find out that she is a childhood friend and a co-worker, which brings us to the source of the problem - a “no dating internally” policy that Adrien’s father, the fashion tycoon Gabriel Agreste, has supposedly enforced in relation to his son. That, unfortunately, places the mystery girl on “Forbidden to Date” list and forces the couple into secrecy- at least from the public eye because one of Adrien’s close friends insist that the couple is close and the young Agreste has been smitten with the mystery girl for years. The questions are remaining:

- What happened to prompt the Agreste heir to fake a relationship with Mlle Tsurugi at this particular time? Could Gabriel Agreste have suspected something and our own modern days Romeo and Juliet needed a diversion to avoid discovery and possible consequences?

- But more important what will happen now when the secret is out? What will the fashion tycoon do? Will he ruin the young love or step up and live in the present, allowing his son to love whoever he wants? M Agreste's fears to protect his son and his fortune are understandable, but surely our society had developed enough legal safeguards to avoid any unwanted consequences if Adrien's choice will prove to be a mistake.

Forbidden Love Story of Adrien Agreste is acting out right in front of our eyes, Paris, and the next step is on Gabriel Agreste. Keep watching. With the latest news, Nadja Shamack. Alec, back to you.”

Nathalie turned the tablet screen off. “Do you want me to do something about it, M Agreste?”

“He is an idiot,” Gabriel scoffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. “Nathalie, my son is an idiot-”

“I beg to differ,” the woman protested. “Adrien might be oblivious in some matters and overly naïve but he is not an idiot and you know it.”

“Graduating at the top of his class and excelling in Business Management isn't going to land him a wife," Gabriel barked. "He might be smart, but he is an idiot when it comes to common sense and dealing with people.”

Nathalie quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And who would you blame for that?”

Gabriel let an irritating huff out, leaning down in his chair and turning away to face the window. After a few moments of silence, he noted. “Though, she is a clever girl, this Mlle Tsurugi. In the given situation this was probably the smartest move for her.”

“You don’t suppose that it could’ve been Adrien’s idea? Or the relationship could’ve really been a fake?”

Gabriel puffed. “Please, Nathalie. Adrien alone would never go public before confronting me first. And whatever relationship he had with Mlle Tsurugi was definitely not a fake, otherwise-”

The knock on the door interrupted him.

“Father?” Adrien peeked in. “May I come in?”

Gabriel straightened up and turned to Nathalie. “Could you give us a moment?”

“Of course,” Natalie nodded and left the room.

As soon as the door behind her closed, Gabriel locked his gaze on his son, “I do not appreciate my name being dragged through the yellow press, Adrien.”

“I didn’t say anything to harm your reputation, Father.”

“Oh, really?” Gabriel glared. “You as well as threatened me with your very public ‘Poor me. My father doesn't allow me to live my life the way I want'. That was utterly unnecessary, Adrien. If you wanted to break up with that girl and date someone else you should’ve just done so. Why did you feel the need to needless whine about it to the whole world and drag me in this mess?”

Adrien frowned. “If you are so fine with me breaking up with Kagami now, why did you practically forced me to start dating just a few weeks ago in the first place?”

"I required of you to have a date for Fashion Week. What you do after that is none of my business," Gabriel barked.

“Aha,” Adrien challenged. “If my dating life is none of your business then, I guess, you wouldn’t care if I start dating Marinette, right?”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng?”

“Yes. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Why would I protest?” Gabriel puffed, crossing his arms on his chest. “Certainly, took you long enough to finally see her.”

Adrien blinked. “What? But you said I can’t date internally- by the way, don’t you dare to fire her. I swear if you do-”

Gabriel sighed in exasperation. “You are so dramatic. Just like your mother.”

Adrien stopped talking, dumbfoundedly staring at his father.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fire her,” Gabriel assured, taking pity on, from the looks of it, the quite confused young man in front of him. “Why would I in my sane mind fire the most promising person in the company? I see you’ve exhausted yourself during the fashion week. You need to rest. I’ll tell Nathalie to clear your schedule for the week.”

Adrien cleared his throat. “Just to be clear - you are fine with me dating Marinette even though she is your employee?”

“I don’t see the point in repeating myself, Adrien,” Gabriel sighed, relaxing back into his chair. “But seeing your inability to realize things lately let me rephrase it in a way you will understand – I want this company to succeed and thrive even after I am no longer here and, no offence, but you didn’t inherit what it takes. That’s why someone as talented as Mlle Dupain-Cheng is highly desirable as your girlfriend for now and in the future as your wife and the mother of my grandchildren. I’m sure, with her talent any children of hers would be capable of bringing Gabriel to-”

Adrien almost squeaked. “Grandchildren? Father, what grandchildren are you talking about?”

“Mine of course,” Gabriel scoffed. “Your future children, Adrien. You do plan on having them one day, don’t you?”

Adrien pressed his lips together. “I believe that’s none of your business.”

“I see exhaustion influenced your manners.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “I guess I can let it slip this time as long as you don’t throw a tantrum and avoid having children just to spite me-”

“That’s not the point!” Adrien seethed through his teeth. “Why are you thinking of grandchildren now at all?”

“A good businessman always thinks ahead,” Gabriel retorted with a shrug.

“I- You- You know what? Just forget it!” Adrien groaned, then straightened up ready to leave. “I just wanted to tell you one more thing before I leave – I’m done blindly following your rules. This is my life and I’m going to live it my way.”

“Look at you all grown up and using the language. How very adult of you.” Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back into his chair. “Still your rudeness isn’t appreciated, Adrien. Grown up or not, I’m still your father.”

“My father who kept me locked up all my childhood and even after I escaped you still manage to control quite a lot of my life.”

“I did let you go to school, didn’t I?” Gabriel answered. “You frequently attended the events you wanted and hanged out with your friends, didn’t you? I did not place on you a single restriction that wasn’t for your safety or benefit, and I certainly am not controlling you now, Adrien.”

“You let me go to school because I kept escaping-”

“Wasn’t very smart of you!”

"I was able to go only to a few hangouts because you overloaded me with extracurricular activities-"

“And can you tell me they didn’t come in handy as you grew up?”

“You controlled my every step, Father but you were never there for me!”

“I was always available to you!”

“By appointment?” Adrien shook his head. “All I ever wanted, Father, was for us to be a real family and for me to have friends. Was that too much to ask for?”

“We were a family, Adrien,” Gabriel retorted. “We still are and you have your friends. What else do you want from me?”

“Father, I-” Adrien paused. Gabriel could see a million emotions zoom through Adrien’s face as he kept his eyes locked on him. Then his son breathed out as his shoulders slacked. He ran his hand through his hair and added. “Nothing. You’re right – we are a family. Maybe not a conventional one but we are something.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair before saying quietly. “I’m sorry I was rude, Father. The last couple of weeks were kind of hard on me.”

“Believe me, I know.” Gabriel could hardly keep himself from smirking as the corners of his lips trembled. “I saw that clearly in your lingerie photoshoot. Though, I suppose you should thank me for that.”

Adrien’s eyes widened and snapped to Gabriel. “Wait- Are you- all those photo shoots- and dinner- you ditched us both- and you sent her to work with me-” Narrowing his eyes on Gabriel, Adrien accused. “You did that on purpose? There was no education of any kind! You were playing matchmaking!”

“Oh! There was education,” Gabriel stated with a satisfied look on his face. “Only it was you who needed a lesson on your own feelings.”

He could see Adrien’s blood boil as he clenched his fists and almost yelled back. “What were you thinking? That- that wasn’t okay by any standards! Do you even realize how uncomfortable you made Marinette feel? She was mortified at that photo shoot.”

“It’s not like she didn’t benefit from that whole situation-”

“Ugh!!! That’s not the point!” Adrien barked. “Father, you can’t play games like these with people and especially not with Marinette! She didn’t deserve this! You have to apologize!”

Gabriel’s eyebrows flew up before he frowned. “Apologize? I don’t think you understand the whole situation, Adrien-”

“I don’t care about the whole situation, Father! You’ve humiliated her and made her uncomfortable in front of a lot of people. You have to apologize!”

“Adrien, I-”

“Do you think she’d want to stay here when she finds out why she had to strip down and let other people take pictures of her nearly naked in compromising positions?”

Gabriel sat straight. “She benefited from that. Of course, she’ll stay.”

“Wanna bet? Because I will encourage and support her in finding a decent employer who would treat her with respect.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I certainly am.” Adrien stood proudly. “You have to come clean to Marinette and apologize and then let her decide what she wants to do or I will do that for you.”

Gabriel sharply inhaled, closed his eyes and remained in that position for a few moments, thinking. On the one hand, he was glad that his son finally got some backbone after all. On the other, that backbone was directed toward him right now. Thoughts raced through his mind as he calculated his options.

"I see you want me to handle this," Adrien said, and Gabriel flinched. He would not be putting at risk his company’s future. He already went too far, invested too much in Marinette to risk her quitting now.

“I’ll do it,” he hissed. “I’ll talk to her.”

“And apologize?”

“I will.”

“And I want all the proofs and photos from those photo shoots. You won’t be publishing a single one.”

Gabriel silently reached in one of his drawers and pulled out a file full of photos, proofs and two SD cards. “It was never meant to be published.”

Adrien picked up the file and looked inside. His face flushed as he closed the file promptly. "Good. Then if there is nothing more for us to discuss, I’ll be going.”

Adrien barely stepped away when Gabriel spoke. “If we are being honest for once, let me make this clear - I’m placing big hopes in that girl. If everything goes as it has been so far, Mlle Dupain Cheng will most likely take over the head designer position after me.”

Adrien stilled as Gabriel continued. “You are my son and I want you and our company to prosper even after I’m gone. You are highly competent in Business Management, but you can't design, Adrien, can you?"

Adrien shook his head. “I never pretended I can or even want to do that.”

“That’s why I take my time and educate Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel continued. “Her talent is extraordinary and with a little education, she’s more than capable of doing the job. You’ll be putting your degree to use and handling the business side of ‘Gabriel’, but it would be Marinette whom I will trust with designing.”

“I’m fine with that,” Adrien nodded.

“I knew you would be and at first I did not want you to complicate things with romance since those can easily go awry pretty quickly. But seeing you two pine one after another, or rather Mlle Dupain-Cheng pinning after you as you keep friendzoning her in your obliviousness while clearly having feelings for her for years just got on my nerves.”

“So, you decided to open my eyes and get us together?”

“Business staying in the family is quite appealing, wouldn’t you say? Plus, as I said already, your offsprings would have a good chance of being capable of carrying on my legacy. Talent runs on a genetic level, Adrien. She certainly has it, and I'm sure there are my genius somewhere in your genes-”

“Please, don’t start this again,” Adrien mumbled, lightly massaging his temples. “We just started dated a few hours ago and you already talking grandchildren. Just- Just stop. Don’t talk about this at all. This is my relationship - I don’t want you in it. I don’t want you anywhere near it.”

“Alright.” Gabriel nodded. “For now, at least. But I will warn you, Adrien - I didn't spend all of this time teaching her only for you to this mess up. So, know this - if I see you screwing things up, I will interfere.”

Adrien shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as Gabriel continued, “All I’m saying is - if sometime in the future your ways do part, you’d better do it in such a way that you two can still work together, because like it or not but she is the one I chose to lead ‘Gabriel’ one day.”

Adrien sighed. “We are civil people. I’m sure we would be able to work things out if anything happened, which I doubt would, but still.”

“This is real life, Adrien, not one of your animes," Gabriel said somberly. "It can get messy and unpredictable. Your every move, every decision is a bargain and a risk, and you’d better be prepared for the consequences of your choices.”

“Then I guess I should indeed be thanking you for taking a risk on me and letting me date your prized employee, instead of keeping it safe with that ‘no dating internally’ rule,” Adrien retorted with a hint of irony. “Thank you for the trust.”

“Technically speaking,” Gabriel responded with a nonchalant look on his face, picking up on of his pens to fiddle with. “Mlle Dupain-Cheng isn't my employee, so the ‘no dating internally’ rule doesn’t apply to her, and therefore, she has never been forbidden for you to date.”

“What?” Adrien's eyes flew wide. “How is she not your employee?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.” She is my protégé, Adrien. There is a difference. She is my student, not my employee.”

“But you pay her?”

“Of course, I do. I need Mlle Dupain-Cheng alive if I want to teach her.”

“Father, that’s not how it works. If you are paying her for work, she is your employee.”

"This is my company, Adrien, and I decide what works here and how. I'm teaching Mlle Dupain-Cheng, and her ‘work' is the same work that students do in school – assignments and tests if you may – yet those students aren’t considered to be employed by their school, now are they?”

“Alright, you think what you want to, but didn’t you just say you didn’t want me to complicate things with romance? How is that not forbidden?”

“I did want to avoid you potentially messing the situation up with romance,” Gabriel nodded. “But my wishes don’t change the fact that Mlle Dupain-Cheng isn’t considered to be my employee and that ‘dating internally’ rule has never really applied to her.”

Adrien opened his mouth to comment, but an intercom buzzer interrupted him. Gabriel pressed the button.

“Yes?”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng is here,” Nathalie reported. “Should I let her in?”

Gabriel glanced at Adrien. “Yes, send her in.” Releasing the button, he added. “Our conversation will have to be continued at another time, Adrien.”

“Don’t forget to apologize, Father,” Adrien reminded as he headed to the door.

“How can I? You keep reminding me.”

“I’ll wait for Marinette outside so you’d better keep your word. Then—” Adrien smirked, “—I’m sure this won’t be a problem since you seem to be quite desperate for her to remain your student.”

“How perceptive of you,” Gabriel snapped. “I see you’re learning fast these days.”

“Only because I have the best teachers,” Adrien slightly bowed to his father with a smile on his lips. His tone, though, remained serious. “If you truly want Marinette here, Father, then respect is the least you can give her.”

As the door behind Adrien cracked opened, he turned away to greet his new girlfriend, missing on his father's groan.

“Why couldn’t you inherit my temperament?” Gabriel mumbled under his breath and stood up to greet his next visitor as well. It took a few more moments for Adrien to lean down, whisper something into Marinette’s ear and gently kiss her cheek before he left the room, throwing Gabriel one more glare.

“Good morning, M Agreste,” Marinette greeted. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes.” Gabriel motioned her to a chair. “Please, take a seat.”

As soon as Marinette settled down, Gabriel took one of the folders and placed it before her. “I won’t keep you for long since you’ve been promised a day off today, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

“That’s alright,” Marinette quietly replied, her smile so nervous even Gabriel noticed.

“In any case, we shall make this quick since I have only a few things to discuss,” Gabriel continued, “Let’s start with the easy one. He pushed the folder closer to her. “These are the photos of the most interesting pieces from Fashion Week. I’d like you to analyze them and write me a report on emerging trends and anything you would find worth of noticing. You have a week for that.”

Marinette nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

“I’m sure you will. Now,” Gabriel cleared his throat, “Adrien had informed me that you two have started dating.”

Marinette seemed to tense as she answered quietly, “Yes, we did.”

“Good.” Gabriel nodded. “As long as this development won’t influence your work ethic.”

“No, M Agreste. It won’t,” Marinette assured him, looking a little surprised and dumbfounded. “I promise I’ll continue to do my best.”

“I have complete faith in you, Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel responded, before clearing his throat and pulling a white envelope from one of the other folders. Placing it before Marinette, he continued. “And the last question. Please, accept this as my apology, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette frowned. “Apology?”

“Yes.” Gabriel pushed the envelope closer to her. “In the last few weeks, I might have been pushing a line a little with a few rather unorthodox activities I’ve been forcing you to do.”

“You mean that photoshoot?” Marinette quirked an eyebrow.

“That photoshoot as well,” Gabriel nodded. “In case you’re wondering - none of those photos will be published anywhere. I’ve already given everything I had, including the digital media, to Adrien. You two deal with it however you want.”

A few silent moments had passed as Marinette thought about something before proceeding carefully. “May I ask you why you did it, M Agreste? Why did you feel the need to make me take those photos?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose for a moment before turning away, he answered quietly but firmly. “Let’s just say I do not appreciate when such levels of obliviousness as my son had showcased are tainting my family name.”

“In other words, this whole thing was executed only to seduce Adrien with a half-naked me?”

“I merely showed him the woman he'd already been in love with from a different angle so he could finally get out of that irritating denial of his and realize his feelings. Nothing wrong with giving him a little push, or would you rather wait for a few more years before he would’ve got it himself?”

Marinette froze. “Nothing wrong with that? M Agreste, I signed up for a designing job, not for being photographed half-naked or act as a tool in your schemes, but that isn’t the main point the point here! Do you even realize how uncomfortable you made your son feel?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes. “That was quite evident.”

“And you are okay with that?” Marinette scoffed. When nothing but a low hum escaped Gabriel, she fumed, standing up. “I can’t believe this. That’s not okay, M Agreste. You can’t play with people like that, and especially with people’s feelings. But if it doesn’t bother you, as it seems not to, then, I think, it’s time for me to re-evaluate if Gabriel is the place I want to work at.”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel responded immediately. “Let’s not rush into anything right now. My family’s matter shouldn’t reflect on our business relationship.”

“Of course, they shouldn’t,” Marinette snapped. “Too bad your family’s matters concern Adrien and even if he wouldn’t be dating, he is as close to my heart as my own family, which means that anything concerning him will reflect on what I decide to do in the future.”

“Adrien and I have already spoken about the matter and cleared things up, so there is no need-”

“Did you apologize, M Agreste?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Did you apologize, M Agreste,” Marinette repeated. “For making your son feeling mortified and exposed in front of who knows how many people?

“I believe issues as such are none of your concern, Mlle Dupain Cheng,” Gabriel sneered. “I may admire your talent and have big hopes for you, but I will not tolerate this kind of attitude towards myself.”

“And I don’t think I want to work for someone with your kind of attitude.” Marinette straightened up as she declared, “I quit.”

"You can't-" Gabriel protested standing up, but Marinette didn't listen.

“And since I don’t work for you anymore, I might just tell you what I think about all of this and you personally, M Agreste. I admire you. As a designer and a businessman, you are exceptional and brilliant. That’s why I am here catering to your every whim – I want to learn from you, and, possibly, someday achieve even a tenth of what you’ve done. But as a father, M Agreste, excuse me, but you are a failure. Yes, you’ve given Adrien a house to live in and the best education possible but do you have the slightest idea how lonely and miserable he was all this time? Did you see how eager he was to escape the gilded prison you’ve put him into? You’ve abandoned him and took away the only thing he ever truly wanted – yourself and your love-”

“That’s not true!” Gabriel growled. “I love my son!”

“Then prove it!” Marinette retorted. “You made him miserable once again so apologize for your actions. It’s never too late to start because I know he loves you very much, M Agreste. He will accept you and love you back, but you have to make the first step.”

The pair glared at each other in silence for a few moments before Marinette sadly smirked, murmured “Right” under her breath and headed for the door. The moment she reached for the handle, though, Gabriel called out. “Alright. You win. I’ll do that.”

Gabriel’s jaw hurt from how hard he was pressing his teeth together, his knuckles as white as snow as Gabriel clenched his fists. Giving in to Marinette's demands were beyond embarrassing, but he achieved too much to give it up now. That was the first scheme of Gabriel’s in a long time that had succeeded and he would do anything to see this victory through to the end, especially when the future of his son and his company were at stakes. In this particular situation, failure was not an option.

“You win,” Gabriel repeated as Marinette turned around. “I will apologize to Adrien.” He picked up the envelope that Marinette left behind and added, “Let’s do this – you accept my apology and take a week off. Then we meet again and discuss how we can continue to work together.”

“Alright,” Marinette consented but nodding towards the envelope added, “I don’t need whatever is in there. Your apologies to Adrien would be enough."

“A good businessman first considers the offer and then refuses,” Gabriel proclaimed, offering her the envelope once again. “Let this be one of my lessons, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. How can you say that my offer won’t be beneficial to you both of you if you haven’t seen what’s inside?”

“I don’t want to gain at Adrien’s expense.”

"And you won't be. This is a part of my apology to you. Adrien is a different story and will be apologized to in an appropriate manner as well. But since you 'were also put out of your element, I'd like for you to be compensated for that."

“I don’t need any money beyond what I earn, M Agreste.”

“This isn’t money. Take a look and then decide.”

After a few moments, Marinette resigned, walked over and took the envelope. She frowned, pulling a few sheets of paper out and reading. “Two vacation packages to the Maldives?”

“I thought that after everything that happened you would like to get away for a while, especially after that stunt with publicity that Adrien pulled today. Media already started to hunt you down, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, so getting away to rest and prepare for what’s coming might be a sensible choice right now.”

“Why did you include two tickets?”

“I thought you’d like to bring someone with you to keep you company but, of course, if you'd prefer to go by yourself, you can do so."

Gabriel could see the hesitation on her face as Marinette was considering his offer for a few moments before she answered.

“That is very generous of you,” she said. “And, to be honest, it does make sense to get away right now, but the only way I’m accepting this is if you apologize to Adrien first.”

“I will,” Gabriel assured her.

“Why not to do this now then?” Marinette asked. “Seeing that the plane leaves tomorrow morning, it's better to be dealt with as soon as possible. Adrien’s waiting for me outside, so give me a few seconds."

Gabriel’s internally groaned as Marinette headed to the door. He didn’t wish to deal with it now. He’d been humiliated enough for one day. As Marinette opened the doors and stepped outside, Gabriel tensed, goosebumps running across his body. He pressed his lips together. He couldn’t avoid doing it either because that meant losing his star designer, someone he already had made a mistake to invest in too much and envision as the only suitable candidate for taking after him. He didn’t have time to find and train another talent. It was just too much to lose at this point. Gabriel almost growled out loud when a gentle, soothing touch against his chest from the inside of his jacket stopped him. Closing his eyes, the man inhaled. He could do this. He was strong and capable of winning anything that came his way. Maybe, he even should do it – from the looks of those photos, Adrien did live through a very personal embarrassment in front of his whole team. Not that he hadn’t deserved that for his extreme obliviousness, but maybe Gabriel should’ve been more considered. Adrien did carry his last name after all and everything that happened to him would reflect on Gabriel, and he knew that. Otherwise, Gabriel would’ve never confiscated every possible picture and file related to those photoshoots.

His shoulders slumped as Adrien walked in and looked at him. Gabriel averted his gaze.

“I’ll wait outside,” Marinette smiled at them and slipped behind the door.

“Did you apologize to Marinette?” Adrien asked coming closer.

“I did.”

“Good. Why did you want to see me again?”

“I-” Gabriel cleared his throat. “I believe I owe you an apology as well.”

Adrien’s eyebrows crawled up. “An apology? For me?”

"Yes,” Gabriel sighed. “For that photoshoot and everything else basically. Accept my deepest regrets.”

For a short while, Adrien dumbfoundedly stared at his father. Then a light smile sneaked on his lips. “You were obviously forced to do that but—” unexpectedly, he appeared right by Gabriel’s side and put his arm on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I appreciate the effort, Father. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gabriel muttered under his breath, feeling paralyzed. It has been too long since he had been experienced physical contact his son. Physical expressions of affection between them, in general, were rare – it was Emilie's domain – but even those had evaporated as Adrien grew older. It felt odd and uncomfortable, but Gabriel loved it nevertheless. He did love Adrien, even if he was bad at expressing that. Otherwise, he would've never even considered of giving up on Emilie and moving on those few years back. He did it for Adrien. Hawkmoth gave in so his son could have a father in his life again. “I gave Marinette a vacation package in addition to my verbal apology,” he added as Adrien pulled his arm back. “She needs to rest and rejuvenate.”

“Good idea,” Adrien hummed. “She needs to get away right now for sure.”

“I told her so as well,” Gabriel replied. “You can have a week off to hide from the paparazzi as well who I presume are already on your tail searching for your mystery lover.”

“Sounds good,” Adrien nodded.

“And upon your return, I think, it’s time you finally started to use that Business degree of yours.”

“Oh,” Adrien blinked in surprise. “Are you sure you are my father?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien,” Gabriel scoffed. “Of course, I am.”

Adrien chuckled. "Well, I'm sorry for being suspicious, but my father insisted I'll be modelling until I'm in my thirties at least.”

Gabriel frowned. Adrien laughed. “Am I getting too old and ugly to be Gabriel’s face?”

“Don’t be a fool either,” Gabriel retorted. “You are at your prime right now as far as I can judge. However, by industry standards, you'll be less and less in demand as you reach your thirties. And since I’ve always intended for you to deal with the business side, you might as well start to get into it now.”

“Sound good to me.” A corner of Adrien’s lips tugged in a smile. Glancing at the door, he stretched his hand to Gabriel. “If there is nothing else to discuss right now, I’ll be heading off. Marinette is waiting for me.”

“Alright,” Gabriel replied. “Don’t forget you have a week off.”

“You’ve had enough for me for a while, huh?” Adrien teased.

“I’m sure we both need some time off from each other, not to mention I have a media mess to deal with right now thanks to you.”

“A fine lesson for us both to learn to communicate better so these situations can be avoided in the future,” Adrien concluded. “I’ll see you in a week, Father.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, a purple blur zipped from Gabriel's jacket with a satisfied smile on his face.

“You did very well, Master.”

"I was humiliated and forced to apologize, Nooroo,” Gabriel swore. “Do you know how many times in my life I’ve apologized? I wouldn’t need ten fingers to count those and two of them happened just now. How is that doing very well?”

“You remained calm and overcame your biggest enemy, Master-”

“My biggest enemy isn’t me! I’m in perfect sync with myself.”

“You were on the verge of ruining your first successful scheme in years, Master. If you’d refused to apologize all your work would’ve been ruined-”

“Do you think I’m a fool, Nooroo? Why else do you think I agreed to their shameless demands and apologized?"

“And that was a wise choice, Master,” Nooroo bowed. “With those apologies you’ve secured your victory and made sure your son and Mlle Dupain-Cheng got together just as you wanted. Not to say that you certainly improved your relationship with Adrien. Isn’t it what you’ve been working towards for years now?”

“We are very proud of you, Sir,” Nathalie added, suddenly appearing by Nooroo’s side. “You over-exceeded all expectations and won despite everything. This calls for a celebration.”

"I don't know about that," Gabriel frowned. "They just started dating, and I need them married and having a baby or two. I'm not getting any younger, and I'd love to know that this company will have a secure line of talented heirs.”

“Adrien and Marinette are very protective of their relationship right now,” Nooroo said, his eyes closed as he concentrated on something. “They both are eager to prove to each other their feelings are genuine and not a result of your schemes. Oh!” Nooroo paused, smirked and added. “They are going on the trip you gave Marinette together, Master, so I’d say you have nothing to worry about.”

“Ah, so they took the trip?” Nathalie asked.

“They did.” Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes. “I had to improvise and come up with a different reason to give it to them on a fly, but they took it."

“Good,” Nathalie nodded, opening up her tablet. “Are we sticking to the plans then or should I hold on all the ‘accidents’ that you’ve planned for the next month?”

“No," Gabriel grumbled. “Why would you do that? I said I need grandchildren.”

“With all due respect, M Agreste,” Nathalie sighed. “But I think it’s time for you to step back and let Adrien take over.”

“I’ll have to agree,” Nooroo added. “It’s best to leave them alone now. They are cautious of everything and if you push any further, Master, you might cause an unpredictable and highly undesirable reaction. You’ve achieved the realization, confession and dating parts. Let’s leave the rest to them.”

“He is an idiot, Nooroo. He’ll ruin it.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Nathalie objected. “Adrien tends to be very sweet and protective of those he loves. He was ready to do anything for Marinette when she was ‘just a friend’; he’d go out of his way making her happy now that they are dating.”

“Exactly,” Nooroo nodded. “Remember what I've told you, Master - they’re made for each other, so you have nothing to worry.”

“Don’t judge me if I find it hard to believe whatever ancient magic you use to determine who and what were made for each other, Nooroo,” Gabriel noted skeptically. “This is a real world with real issues and the slightest mistake can send all my hard work to waste.”

“My ancient magic, Master, has never failed me before,” Nooroo responded. “But if it makes you feel better, I can always warn you if something were to go awry.”

Gabriel turned away and thought for a few moments. "Fine." He finally seethed. "I'll leave the rest up to Adrien, but he has a year-”

“Gabriel,” Nathalie interrupted, her eyebrow quirked. “Please, be realistic. If you want a marriage and a baby a year isn’t enough. Make it five.”

“He’ll be thirty then. His fertility will-”

“Will be fine.” Nathalie interrupted. “Thirty is the perfect age to start a family.”

“Two,” Gabriel, pressing his lips together. “Two years.”

“Four,” Nathalie countered with a calm facade.

“Alright, three,” Gabriel gave in.

“Sounds good.” Nathalie nodded. Returning her attention to her tablet, she added, “Now that that’s sorted out, shall we return to your schedule?”

“Of course,” Gabriel sighed, settling back into his chair. He had to admit - there was a shift in their relationship with Nathalie after he'd begged and she'd agreed to come back. She had more control over everything - her schedule, her responsibilities, her attire choices and even over him. If he was honest, Gabriel Agreste had Nathalie to thank for his company getting back to the heights of the fashion industry. With her impeccable administration and persuasion skills, Nathalie practically forced Gabriel to work his best and rebuild his company from the ashes. It was Nathalie who dragged him to the doctor for a check-up the minute she noticed his chest discomfort. In doing so, she saved his life. A quick surgery cleared Gabriel’s arteries, but it was giving up on Hawkmoth-ing that lifted a considerable strain and helped Gabriel to recover. Little by little but he was getting there - his company was once again successful and relationship with Adrien, while far from ideal, nevertheless now existed and was improving. All of that happened because of Nathalie.

Maybe he should take her out for a celebration after all?

In the corner of his eyes Gabriel noticed Nooroo react to his thought with a subtle smile, so he brushed it away. He would never allow the day when that arrogant kwami would be proven right in thinking that Nathalie was not just his assistant to come. Any dinners and celebration will have to wait because Nathalie was his assistant, possibly a friend but he was not in love with her!

A few years later

Adrien hadn’t waited for long. Gabriel wasn’t sure if his son had even left Marinette’s side for more than an hour after their Maldives holiday getaway in the first place, but only a few weeks later the couple had officially moved in together. Just a few months after that Adrien proposed and Marinette accepted. Even to this day, Gabriel couldn’t hold back a smile, remembering how aggressively his son defended his decision for a quick proposal and Marinette’s equally baffling instant agreement.

“I don’t care what reasons you might have against this, I admit, a little-rushed decision, Father,” Adrien argued right after announcing the news. “But we've danced around each other for way too long, and neither of us wants to wait or be apart anymore. So like it or not but we are getting married in May.”

Gabriel only quirked his eyebrow. “Have you forgotten my plans concerning Mlle Dupain-Cheng, Adrien? Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Adrien did. His son and his fiancée delivered the invitation in person, and in late spring of that year, Gabriel attended the wedding that was proclaimed by the media to be the most romantic wedding of the century, despite being extremely private and small in size. The hour the newlyweds left for their honeymoon, Gabriel had started to rub his hands together, assured that the much-desired and hugely talented heir to his empire wouldn't take long to arrive now.

Days turned into weeks, those turned into months and a few years later Gabriel was a hair’s breadth away from stepping back into the game. Had it not been for Nathalie and Nooroo he might have started to carry out one of his many schemes for an obtaining a grandchild; however, upon the slightest suggestion, those two immediately dismissed him as incapable of actually going through with any of his plans.

“Let’s be honest, Gabriel.” Nathalie quirked an eyebrow, struggling to keep a skeptical smile off her lips. “It’s one thing for you to help your son realize his own feelings. It’s completely different to manipulate him into having a baby. That would be cruel to say the least and knowing you for years, seeing you change recently, I’m quite certain you aren’t that vicious anymore.”

“Plus,” Nooroo chimed in, proudly puffing his chest out. “I didn’t want to tell you before I was absolutely certain, but a few weeks ago, there was a rush of extremely happy emotions in both Marinette and Adrien. Since then, they keep giving me sweet, happy vibes every day like nothing I’ve experienced from them before.”

“That could be anything,” Gabriel grunted. “Those two are always happy about something.”

“Aha,” Nooroo smirked. “But why then does Marinette feel exhausted most of the day and has been vomiting almost every morning or when she smells something called Camembert? If I may assume, I’d say that the baby already exists and they are just holding off on making an announcement.”

“That’s a viable possibility,” Nathalie added, “I did notice Adrien’s online shopping stray to the baby websites, but since he didn’t buy anything concrete yet, I didn’t pay special attention to that. Especially not since their friends had just had a baby - it could've been a gift for Zoië Lahiffe.”

“Fine,” Gabriel barked and turned away. “They have until Christmas to tell me. If they don’t, I’ll confront them.”

The baby announcement came a few days later on Christmas Day, and in the middle of July of the next year, Gabriel found himself beyond anxious in a waiting room of the best hospital in Paris, awaiting the birth of his magnificent, taking-the-fashion-world-by-storm heir.

“Gabriel?” Nathalie entered the room. “Where is M Dupain?”

The man shrugged. “He insisted we need breakfast after the sleepless night and went to find some food.”

“Has he been gone for long?”

“Five minutes or so. Why?”

Nathalie smiled. “The nurse said that the baby was just born, but they need about half an hour before we can go in. Hopefully, he’ll return by then.”

“A boy or a girl?” Gabriel rushed to ask, forgetting everything else, because those children of his had stupidly decided to keep the gender a surprise.

“She didn’t say. Half an hour, Gabriel. You’ve waited for years; you can wait for another thirty minutes.”

“Fine,” he grunted and sat in a nearby chair - all that room pacing was giving his legs cramps, not to mention spending most of the night in here left him feel exhausted to the point of slight dizziness, especially because he had to listen to Tom’s constant rambling. He understood the man was nervous but how would recounting his life story, business plans, and everything in between to Gabriel was supposed to help him calm down he couldn't comprehend. His stomach growled; Gabriel wrapped his arms around it, groaning internally. He’d always thought his in-laws to be overbearingly caring but maybe today Marinette’s father had the right idea about breakfast and some food at this point wouldn’t hurt? Hopefully, Tom would make it back in time for Gabriel to swallow whatever he’d found before meeting his new grandchild. He couldn't afford to present himself any less than perfect to his perfect heir. However, about twenty minutes later when Sabine, who had attended the delivery along with Adrien, came by, Tom was yet to return.

“Him and his insatiable obsession to feed everyone.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Did he at least say where he’d go?”

“No,” Gabriel replied. “But he did forget his cell phone on that table.”

“Men.” Sabine facepalmed. “Alright. You two can go meet the baby and I’ll go find my husband.”

“Are they ready for us?” Gabriel as good as jumped up from his chair. Sabine nodded and the man sped past her, Nathalie hot on his tracks. He quickly walked down the hall to the delivery room but paused right before the door, inhaling. Opening it was harder than he thought it should’ve been. On the other side, he saw a scene he could never forget. His beloved daughter-in-law, radiant as always, was resting in a bed with a smile on her face as she observed his son, who was slowly walking around, rocking a little bundle in his arms, whispering something to it. The moment Gabriel walked in, all eyes locked on him.

Adrien smiled and turned back to the bundle. “Your grandfather came to meet you, Emma.”

“Emma…” Gabriel echoed. His magnificently talented, destined for greatness heir was Emma.

“Emma,” Adrien repeated, walking closer and showing him a tiny baby swaddled in a blanket. Gabriel held his breath spotting a mop of blond hair sticking from under the tiny cap as his granddaughter moved her little lips and tried to crack open one of the eyes that hadn’t obtained their clarity yet but were clearly green.

“Emma Agreste.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Nathalie said with a rare smile on her face. “Congratulations, Adrien, Marinette.”

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled back at her.

“Your mother went to find your father, Marinette. He’s away, buying some food at the moment.”

Marinette giggled. “So like Papa - he always tries to feed everyone.”

Adrien chuckled with a knowing smile when Nathalie’s phone vibrated.

“Excuse me,” the woman apologized, glancing at the screen. “Somehow the media has heard of the baby’s impending birth already and wouldn't stop inquiries. I’ve been dealing with this for a while now. I’ll take it to the hallway.”

“Can you not tell them yet?” Adrien asked before Nathalie could leave. “We want to have this time to ourselves.”

“Of course.” Nathalie nodded. “Congratulations again.”

Gabriel cleared his throat as soon as his assistant exited the room. “Congratulations. I assume everything went well?”

“Everything went amazingly,” Adrien cooed to Emma. “And we are a healthy and happy little girl, aren’t we?” He paused and looked at Gabriel. “Would you like to hold her, Father?”

Gabriel blinked and puffed. “No. Of course, no. Babies are not my domain and have never been. It’s your bundle of joy - you enjoy it.”

Nevertheless, about a few minutes later the newly appointed grandfather was barely breathing as he stood in a middle of the room with a tiny human in his hands who yawned and scrunched her nose every few seconds. She clenched and released her little fingers and opened her eyes at random. Gabriel ceased any movements as she tried to make a noise and failed. That was what he'd strived for - an heir with fashion genes to take over his company and the industry. A calculated goal he’d finally obtained… Then why didn’t feel so important anymore if this little person had any fashion sense in her whatsoever?

“Marinette-”

“Shhh,” Adrien turned to Nathalie who just re-entered the room. “They are bonding.”

“No one is bonding,” Gabriel cleared his throat, summoning his manly, strict façade back onto his face. Fortunately, Nathalie's phone vibrated again, and, quickly informing Marinette that her parents had just called and would soon be here, she excused herself out of the room once more, sparing him the embarrassment. “Take this- take her away so I can move again.”

“You know you can move with her in your hands, Father? You won’t break her,” Adrien chuckled but seeing that Emma started to fuss, obliged and took his newborn daughter back into his arms. “She’s probably hungry,” he reasoned and bringing her over to Marinette let her take over.

“Then I guess I’d better depart,” Gabriel fixed his jacket. “Congratulations again, Adrien, Marinette. I wish you a speedy recovery and hope to see you soon back in the office.”

Adrien frowned. “We discussed this, Father. Marinette will come back when she is ready.”

"No one talks about a full day workload," Gabriel retorted. "She can come in for a few hours a week or work from home.”

“Father-”

“Working from home sounds like an interesting idea.” Marinette interfered. “I’m sure we can work something out once Emma is older since I doubt I’ll be able to refrain from designing for long myself, but for now I want to focus on my family.”

“We’ll let you know when Mari wants to go back, Father,” Adrien stood by his wife. Gabriel groaned inside. They had been like this ever since he admitted to scheming - overly protective of their relationship and cautious around him. It was getting better since he, as promised, had refrained from any further intrusions into their lives, but still every so often when he tried to suggest something the walls went up. Though, Gabriel had to give them due - if his advice were sound, they would usually accept it, if only on their terms.

“Alright,” he sighed. “That sounds reasonable enough. I assume our dinner today is cancelled?”

“Yes.” Adrien nodded, looking at Marinette as they seemed to communicate without words. “I think we’ll skip this one and maybe one more, depending on how my girls feel.” He paused for a moment, a mischievous smirk sneaking onto his lips. "Since you have a free evening today, Father, why don’t you take Nathalie out to celebrate Emma’s birth?”

“What? Why would I do that?” Gabriel stilled, staring back at Adrien.

“Why not?” his son’s smirked deepened as Gabriel felt Nooroo stir in his pocket, undoubtedly laughing. "You know, like a business meeting, only you talk about everything but business. Today, for example, you can discuss Emma and all the dominating the fashion scene plans you have for her.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and straightened. “Nathalie is my assistant, Adrien. You seem to forget that.”

“Marinette is my co-worker,” Adrien replied. “We’re married and we just had a baby.”

“That’s preposterous, Adrien. Why would you think that-”

“Oh, come on, Father,” Adrien urged. “Nathalie is like family - she’s waited for this as much as we all did, so I’m sure she’d love to celebrate Emma's birth. She deserved to celebrate. Give her an evening off, take her out, let her rest. She’s working way too hard for you every day. This could be your chance to repay her.”

The baby let out an irritated cry, rubbing her face against Marinette’s chest.

“I’d better go,” Gabriel rushed to say. “Your daughter looks hungry and she seems to have inherited your temper. I'll talk to you later. Get well soon, Marinette. Goodbye.”

Shiftily, Gabriel escaped out of the door before anyone can bid him farewell and immediately bumped into Tom.

“A boy or a girl?” Tom blurted out instantly.

“Wait! Don’t tell him,” Sabine intercepted. “Let him find out for himself. You’re almost there, Tom. Have patience.”

Gabriel stepped aside and held the door open. Sabine didn't wait long to get in and soon the pair of men heard her happy gushing about baby Emma.

“So a girl?” Tom asked, still standing in place, holding a few takeout packages and a tray with coffee cups.

“A girl.” Gabriel nodded. “Emma Agreste.”

“How- how does she look?” Tom swallowed.

“She’s-” Gabriel stilled for a second, thinking as to how better depict the tiny creature he’d just encountered, but the correct words escaped, his usually extensive vocabulary failing him at the moment, and he doubted that “Perfect” would be enough. “Why don't you go in and see her for yourself, Tom?” he gave up after a few moments.

“Yes. Right.” The man stirred and inhaled, nervously chuckling. “A bit nervous, you know. First grandchild and all.”

“Yes, I do know,” Gabriel mumbled. “You’ve told me that a few hundreds of times today already.”

“This is for you and Nathalie.” Tom offered him one of the packages and two coffee cups.

“Thank you.” Gabriel took the offering and continued to stand in his place since the other man didn't move as well.

“Tom, get in here.” Sabine peeked out of the door and nudged her husband inside.

“I’d better go,” Tom chuckled again. “See you around?”

“Yes.” Gabriel nodded and directed his sight to the hallway as soon as the pair disappeared into the room. Immediately, he spotted Nathalie a bit further down the hall speaking on her cell phone. His mind rushed back to Adrien’s suggestion. What an absurd idea he’d proposed! Why would he, Gabriel Agreste, take Nathalie out on a date? She was his assistant! Just his assistant and nothing more! Gabriel grunted and walked down the hall. Could it be that Nooro got to Adrien and now they were both conspiring against him? No. Absurd. Nooroo was always by his side.

Just like Nathalie.

Nathalie was by his side for so many years Gabriel had lost count now. She'd been there when he had just started ‘Gabriel.' She’d been there for him when he was trying to revive Emilie. She’d been there for Adrien when he wasn’t. She had left only to shake him to his senses. She might have saved his life and his family by that. In one thing Adrien was right - Nathalie was like family now. So maybe a dinner won’t hurt? Not a date, just a dinner between- let’s say old friends who happened to work together? He did just become a grandfather. He deserved to celebrate as well because that fussy tiny thing was sure to take the fashion industry by storm, bringing him honour and making the Agreste name even more well-known.

“We should celebrate, Nathalie,” Gabriel stated, settling in his car. “A healthy grandchild is a cause for celebration, no?”

“Of course, Gabriel. Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care. You choose, Nathalie.”

“Alright. How does Le Meurice sound?”

“Acceptable.”

“Good. Your table is already booked for six.”

Gabriel looked at Nathalie. “You already booked it?”

“Nooroo dropped by a little earlier and said it’d be a good idea in case you’d like to celebrate.”

“Nooroo did?” Gabriel echoed, wondering how did he not notice his kwami slipping away. “What else did Nooroo tell you?”

“He suggested wearing the red dress you gave me for my birthday two years ago and the necklace from the year prior."

Gabriel hummed. Those two would go well together. It seemed that Nooroo had picked up good taste, after all, spending all those years in Gabriel’s presence. Or maybe it was the better-quality fabric he was lately snacking on that made him smarter? In any case-

“Good choice,” Gabriel nodded, petting the breast pocket of his jacket.

Little kwami inside chuckled, pleased. It took him quite a while, but slowly he was finally achieving every kwami’s goal - to lead their wielders to the best versions of them they could be. His Master hadn’t been perfect the day they met, and Nooroo doubted he’d ever be. But little by little this formerly obsessed-with-the-past, power-hungry madman was transforming into an acceptable if not a decent version of a father and a good, reasonable employer. It was Nooroo’s side project, but quite possibly, if the way the things were going, Gabriel would soon be a more or less adequate partner in a romantic relationship as well. The little kwami smiled to himself, nibbling on his Master’s silk handkerchief. The Guardian would be pleased, his brethren will be excited for him and he- seeing one of the most complicated humans he’d ever worked with to finally be happy again would be enough for Nooroo.

Thank you so much, guys, for reading Forbidden Love That Wasn't. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. A huge thank you to my friends @kryallaorchid and @edendaphne for putting up with my nonsense and tears and helping me make this story amazing.

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#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #adrienette #gabriel agreste #nathalie sanscoer #Nooroo #fltw #finalle #This was a wild ride #thank you everyone who read

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catalinda04 · 5 years

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Carried Away Chapter 47: Darkness and Light

Masterlist

Lucy was packing her bag to go home after spending the weekend with her family for Easter, when her mother knocked lightly and entered the room.

“Hey, mom.” Lucy said, not looking up from arranging her suitcase.

“Luce, we need to talk.” She said, sitting on the bed, and patting the spot next to her, indicating Lucy should sit too. “We’re worried about you. We don’t like seeing you like this. You’ve been short with everyone this weekend, and we tried to be understanding, but the kids don’t understand why auntie isn’t playing with them.”

“I’m fine mom.” Lucy defended. Her mother gave her a raised eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. “I am. I just...I just feel so stupid. At first I was hurt by Henry’s words, but now I just feel stupid. I actually thought a guy like that would love someone like me. I was living in a fantasy land.”

“Honey, I have no doubt that Henry loved you. The way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, the way he looked after you. You’d make an off-hand comment about something, and he’d make it a reality. But sometimes love isn’t enough. What’s that line from that movie you watched over and over in high school; the Cinderella one?”

“A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?” Lucy recited, and gave a small smile.

“Exactly. So please don’t think that Henry didn’t love you. But relationships don’t always work out, no matter how much we’d like them to.”

“Thanks mom. I’m sorry I’ve worried you guys.”

“Honey, that’s what family is for.” Marie smiled, embracing her daughter tightly.

Over the next weeks, Lucy employed a “fake it til you make it” attitude. She projected a happier demeanor, and in turn started to feel better, by infinitesimal degrees, but better nonetheless. She wasn’t sleeping well, when she slept she dreamt of Henry, but she slowly began to re-enter her life as an active participant.

Luckily for Lucy, April was a hectic month. Prom planning was in full swing, and the kids were driving her nuts with details. They kept her so busy that she could fall into an exhausted sleep so deep that she didn’t dream. By the time prom week actually rolled around, Lucy was thinking she might actually survive the school year intact.

While Lucy was finding her way to the light, Henry was sinking deeper into the dark. After finding Lucy’s letter, he started to withdraw from everyone. Before finding the letter he had himself convinced he was doing what was best for Lucy. She could forget about him, and eventually find someone else to fall in love with and marry. But now he wanted nothing more than to lock himself away where he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Unfortunately, his life would not allow him to become the hermit he so desired to be. He was a successful actor with a movie to be released soon. Dany had, after discovering his schedule suddenly wide open, scheduled him to several entertainment magazine interviews, radio interviews, and entertainment blog interviews. Normally Henry actually enjoyed doing press for his films, it gave him a chance to show his personality, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy to be charming.

After the third in what was to be a string of interviews, Dany came to the hotel suite he was living in.

“Henry, what’s wrong?” She asked, brushing past him into the room.

“Hello to you too Dany.” Henry said to the air.

“Henry, I’ve gotten complaints from the editors of both the interviews you’ve given that you’re not answering questions, you’re uninterested, and I caught that radio interview this morning. I’ve never known you to mumble, but I could barely make out a word you said. So I ask you, what is wrong with you? Is this some sort of delayed reaction from your break-up with the teacher? You were fine a month ago.”

“I’m just not feeling the interview circuit right now.” Henry replied, looking out the window.

“Well, you better start feeling it. Someone from the studio caught your radio interview today, and they’re not pleased. You need to put more effort into being your regular charming self, or the studio is going to take action.” She threatened.

Henry did eventually start to “play nice” at the interviews, but refused to “play the game” as Dany called it. He didn’t go out and “be seen,” he had no desire to go to the clubs and parties and make small talk with people he barely knew.

He kept Lucy’s letter in his wallet. He read it every night before laying down to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. Images of Lucy crying kept him awake. He turned to whiskey and beer to dull the pain of knowing what he’d thrown away.

Dany Garcia stared at the glass doors in front of her. If she wasn’t positive that this would help, she wouldn’t have flown and driven herself across the country to this middle of nowhere town. Now here she was, staring at a small school with students streaming out the front door. The littlest ones wearing backpacks bigger than themselves. The oldest carrying maybe a book and a jacket. It was late April and 55 degrees, she was freezing, and these kids weren’t even wearing coats. “Minnesota is such an odd place,” she thought to herself.

She was happy to see she’d timed it right to arrive at the end of the school day. It would give her time to talk to Lucy without many interruptions. She entered the building, checked in at the office, and was directed to Ms. Claussen’s room.

She followed the directions and found the room easily. The door was open. Dany looked in and saw Lucy sitting at her desk. She was surprised at the changes she noticed. This was not the same happy, smiley woman she’d met in January. This woman had dark circles under her eyes, and a frown on her face. Even her hair seemed duller than before. Dany knocked on the door, as she walked in.

“Un minuto.” Lucy said without looking up, continuing to type at speed on her keyboard. When she finished, she looked up expectantly “What’cha need…” she trailed off seeing Dany standing in the room. “What are you doing here?” She asked coldly.

“I’m here on behalf of my client.” Dany said, slowly walking toward Lucy’s desk.

“What? Does he want the earrings back that he gave me, or the necklace? He can have them, it’s costing me a fortune to insure the damn things. It’ll take me a day or so, I don’t have my safe deposit box key with me.” Lucy said, her anger starting to build.

“No. I’m not here to get back any presents.” Dany said confused. “I came to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine. Tell your client,” she practically spat the word, “that if he wants to know how I’m doing, my phone number hasn’t changed.” Dany was confused by Lucy’s tone. She seemed angry simply hearing about Henry. Something wasn’t adding up.

“He doesn't know that I’m here. I came because he’s hurting. He’s been in a very bad place since you two split. He’s been fulfilling all of his contractual obligations, but people are noticing that he’s phoning in his appearances. I think you’re the solution to his current ennui. I came to see if you would be willing to take our boy back. He hasn’t been the same since the split. He’s in Los Angeles right now, Can I book you a ticket for this weekend?”

“Are you shitting me?” Lucy asked incredulously, standing to look the woman in the eye. “Now, Ms. Garcia. I understand that your loyalty is to your client, but honestly, what kind of woman not only suggests that another woman get back together with a man who broke her heart, but suggests that I chase after him to beg him to take me back. I may not be some millionaire Hollywood starlet, but I do at least have my pride.”

Dany’s head spun. It was all starting to come together now. “He broke your heart? Are you telling me that he broke off the relationship?”

“Yes. He told me one day out of the blue that our ‘lives were too different, that this couldn’t work’ then he picked-up his bags and left. I haven't heard from him since.”

“That’s very enlightening. So the break-up was not your idea.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve said?” Lucy asked caustically, losing what little patience she had remaining.

“But you still love him. Would you consider taking him back?”

Dany watched as the woman in front of her deflated, losing all of the fire that, just a second ago, had been directed at her. Lucy leaned forward, bracing her hands on her desk, her head dropping.

“Dany, yes I loved him. But as I said, he broke my heart. I’m not sure I’m willing to put myself through that pain again. The whispers are just starting to die down, I’m sure they’ll pick back up when the next round of interviews and TV appearances start. My life hasn’t changed, and it isn’t going to. I’m a highschool teacher. I live in Minnesota, and I’m very close to my family. What I had with Henry was great, but I don’t know if my heart could survive if he decided that we weren’t compatible again. Now, I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but I don’t think I have anything else to say to you.”

“Well, thank you for even speaking to me. Good luck with everything Lucy.” Dany turned to leave. She had just reached the door when Lucy asked quietly.

“How is he?”

“He’s miserable.” Dany said plainly.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” Lucy smiled tremulously.

Dany’s head swam with the new information she’d acquired. It would seem Henry had not been honest with her. On her way out of the building, a flyer caught her eye. She took one, forming an idea she hoped would work.

Dany stayed in Minnesota that night, before flying back to Los Angeles the following morning. When she arrived, her first stop was Henry’s hotel room. She knocked, and received no reply. She knocked again, and still got no response. She decided she’d try one more time, before getting management to let her in. Just as she was about to turn from the door, it swung open. Henry stood glaring at her through bloodshot eyes from under a three day growth of stubble. “What?” Was all he said.

“Good morning to you too.” She said cheerfully, pushing past him into the room. It was dark, and stank of stale beer and staler man. He followed her into the room and shrank back as she opened the curtains to the bright California sun. He sat on one of the couches holding his head.

“Why don’t you tell me why the hell you’re here, so I can go back to bed.”

“Henry, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon. You don’t need to go back to sleep.” She crossed the room to him and raising her hand, smacked him in the back of the head.

“What the bloody hell was that for?”

“You’ve been lying to me. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you’ve been moping around this hotel room for 2 weeks, only coming out to grumble your way through an interview. The studio is breathing down my neck to get you to shape-up. I needed to do something. I’ve spent the last 24 hours flying and driving, hoping maybe your teacher could cure this funk you’ve fallen into.”

“You saw Lucy? How is she?” Henry interrupted her.

“Yes, I saw her She told me to tell you she’s fine. Though she’s obviously not. I don’t think she’s sleeping much. But I was less interested in her appearance, than what she told me. She told me that you broke up with her. Now how can this be? If you were the one to break off this relationship, why the hell are you so miserable?”

“I love her. Loved her.” He corrected himself. “I’m not allowed to mourn the loss of a love.”

“Of course you are, but you told me that she was the one who instigated the break. If you still love her, why the hell did you break-up?”

Henry wasn’t in the right mindset to argue, so he told her the truth. “Dany, you should have seen her in the classroom. She’s a natural. She was in her element. The kids love her, and she genuinely cares about them. And with her family. They’re so close, and she loves them so much. She told me her niece and nephew are her world. How could I take her away from all of that, because if we got married, I’d expect that she’d move to London with me, it’s where I’m based. So I gave her some line about our lives not being compatible, which is really the truth, and I left her.” Dany watched his face fall even more as he recounted the whole situation. She smacked his head again.

“Henry, Henry, Henry. You stupid man. Did you ask her what she wanted? No of course you didn’t. You just unilaterally decided that this was the way it had to be, and that was that. Tell me, have they done away with all of the schools in England? Do phones no longer do video chat? Do phone lines not reach across the ocean? Have you fallen into some sort of financial distress that I’m unaware of that would make flying from London to Minnesota impossible?” Dany berated him, making his entire decision seem insane.

“I just want her to be happy.”

“Well, she’s not. And neither are you. You need to talk to her. Tell her what you just told me. If you both decide then that you’re not meant to be, then so be it, but give the girl a chance. She’s a strong modern woman. You could do a lot worse.”

Henry leaned back on the couch, his hands running over his face. “Dany, don’t you think I know that? She’s amazing and I let her go.” He picked up Lucy’s letter from the bedside table and handed in to Dany. “I found this in my suitcase when I was home for Easter” Henry stood to look out over downtown Los Angeles, his eyes staring unseeing into the distance while his agent read the words Lucy had written.

“What conversation is she talking about?” Dany asked.

“I asked her to marry me.” He said quietly.

“Say again. You what?!” Dany asked, sure she’d heard him wrong.

He turned from the window to address her. “Christmas Eve, I asked her to marry me. She said no. Her reasoning was sound, she thought we didn’t know each other well enough, but it still hurt me. The longer I stayed with her in Minnesota, the deeper I felt myself falling. I started to actually think about what being married would mean. And what if I asked her again, and she turned me down again. I don’t know if my heart could handle that.” he explained, his voice strained with emotion as he sank onto the sofa.

“Henry, that’s what love is. You’re giving someone else the power to hurt you, and then trusting them enough not to. Do you still love her?”

“Of course I do.”

“More importantly, do you want to be with her?” Dany asked, sitting down next to Henry.

Henry met Dany’s eyes, “more than anything.”

“Then you’re going to have to do something. She still loves you.”

“What time is it? I’ll call her.” He said, hope entering his eyes. Dany smacked his head again.

“Would you stop hitting me?!” He exclaimed, rubbing his head.

“When you’re done being stupid, I will. But you’re being stupid again. This isn’t a conversation you have over the phone. You have to have this one face to face. And honestly, with the way you’ve acted, you’re probably going to need to do some groveling in order to get her to even talk to you.”

“My schedule is booked for the next week at least.”

“I have an idea about that.” She said producing the flyer she took from the school. Henry’s face split into a grin which Dany hadn’t seen in far too long.

Four days after her unexpected visit from Henry’s agent, Lucy was up to her ears in hairspray, tulle, and glitter. The culmination of her students’ entire year of planning had arrived, prom.

“Emma, thank you so much for being my date for the night. We need all the chaperones we can get.” Lucy said, straightening a young man’s bowtie.

“Of course, you know I love the kids, and it’s fun to see them outside of school. How are you holding up?”

“I’m exhausted. We decorated all day here yesterday, then last night at the hotel. But after tonight it’s all over.”

“No, I meant how are you doing?”

“I know you did, I’m fine.”

“It’s been almost 8 weeks, honey. I’m worried about you.”

“I was actually doing fine, if you remember, then that woman had to show up. But worry about me tomorrow. Tonight, we need to keep this herd of animals off the booze and off each other.”

The students all gathered at the school to participate in Grand March; a chance for the community to see the students in all of their finery. Just before the event was set to begin, Lucy changed into her Starry Night dress, slipped the opal earrings Henry had given her into her ears, and fastened the necklace around her neck. She couldn’t help but recall the last time she’d worn these jewels, and how happy she’d been. She had debated whether or not to wear Henry’s gifts, but Emma had insisted she wear them. How many opportunities would she have to wear something so extravagant, and while the jewelry was a bit over the top for prom, it made her look sparkly on the outside, even if she didn’t quite feel sparkly on the inside.

Lucy took her place behind the podium on the stage in the gym, the spotlight all but blinding her. She cued the student sound tech backstage to start the music that had been chosen to announce the couples. The students walked to the center of the stage, meeting in the middle, then descending the stairs to the gym floor together. They paraded in front of the crowd stopping frequently for photos.

After the Grand March concluded and pictures had been taken, the students boarded busses for the 20 minute ride to the local hotel whose ballroom was serving as venue for the dinner and dancing portion of the evening. Lucy ensured that all the students had exited the busses before mounting the stairs to the second floor ballroom. She found all of the attendees standing on the stairs.

“Why are we just standing here? Let’s get this party started.” Lucy cheered with false excitement in her voice.

“Ummm…Ms. C? There’s someone here that wants to talk to you.” One of the students called from the front.

What now, was all Lucy could think. Was the hotel mad they’d taped decorations to the walls? What could possibly need her attention right now?

She worked her way through the throng of kids to the top of the stairs, and froze. There stood Henry, in a suit, holding a bouquet of tulips. Lucy was speechless for a moment before she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ryan gave it a quick squeeze. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and collected herself. She turned to the students standing expectantly behind her.

“Ok, so you all, go into the Ballroom. Mr. Williams, would you please take care of...whatever needs to be taken care of. I’ll be in when I can.”

“You do what you need to do, we’ve got this.” He gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before leading the kids into the ballroom. Henry waved at a few of the kids that acknowledged him, while her drama students gave him an exaggerated cold shoulder. Lucy noticed more than one phone pointed in Henry’s direction, this was going to be all over Instagram in under 3 minutes. Emma came to stand beside her.

“What do you think he wants?” Lucy asked, panic starting to build in her voice.

“I don’t know. But he’s got your favorite flowers, that’s always a good sign. Hear him out though. Men are stupid, and sometimes it takes them a while to realize they've been stupid.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on your side, and you’ve been miserable for 2 months. You owe it to yourself to hear what he has to say. Then if you’re not satisfied, you can kick him to the curb, and at least get some closure on this relationship.”

Once the lobby area had cleared, Emma entered the ballroom shooting icicles at Henry the entire way, and Lucy finally approached him. She crossed her arms over her chest to keep her hands from shaking.

“What are you doing here?” Lucy asked expressionless.

“I came to see you. You look amazing. You’re wearing my earrings.” He said, reaching out to touch her. She evaded his hand, he pulled it back as though he had been burned.

“What do you want, Henry? I’m working.”

“Is there someplace we can talk?” He looked around.

“I don’t particularly want to talk to you right now, or ever really.” She said turning to walk to the ballroom.

“Please, hear me out. Will you just listen to me?” He asked grabbing her arm.

She looked down at his hand, then back to his face with a look that could freeze boiling tea. He let go. “If I let you talk, will you leave? Leave me to work.”

“Yes, if that’s what you want, I will go, but please will you listen to me?”

“Fine.” She stalked in the direction of the hospitality room the school had reserved to store decorations and prizes. She opened the door and entered, not waiting to see if he was following.

She stood in the middle of the room, and looked at him expectantly. “Well.” She said in the teacher voice she’d used the first day they met. Despite his nerves, Henry couldn’t stop the small smile from crossing his face. The ice that entered her eyes froze his smile before it could grow.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” Lucy asked incredulously. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Would you let me talk? Lucy. I love you. I know what I said, that our lives weren’t compatible. And really they’re not, but I was only thinking of myself. I started thinking about a real future with you, then I saw how you were with your students, and your family, and...I just couldn’t live with taking you away from all of that. I love you too much, and want you to be happy.”

“So you broke-up with me? How exactly was that supposed to make me happy?” Her words were angry, but she could feel her heart starting to melt infinitesimally.

“In the short term, it wouldn’t. But I thought you would find someone whose life is more like yours. Who you could be with and stay with your family, and your students.”

“Henry, yes, I love my family, and I love teaching, but none of that would change if I didn’t live here. There’s video chats, and phone calls, and airplanes.” Whose side was she on? Lucy asked herself. She was supposed to be angry, not explaining how they could be together.

“Dany, said all of that and more. She called me stupid, and she hit me.” He gave a short laugh at the memory.

“Well, you deserve it.” Lucy replied, a small smile cracking the icy mask of her face. That small crack gave Henry’s spirit the lift he needed.

“Lucy. I love you. Please can you give me another chance? I can promise to love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything else.”

“Are you going to talk to me? Or are you going to make decisions that affect both of us?”

“We’ll talk. I’ll never leave you out of any decision making process that would affect both of us,” he promised. “But you’d take me back?” He asked, hope shining across his face.

In response she opened her arms, leaned into him, and sighed. He wrapped his arms around her in a lovingly crushing embrace that Lucy felt gluing the pieces of her broken heart back together. She pulled away slightly to look up at his face. He brought his hands up to cup her face and brought his lips down to hers. God he had missed her. Her lips were warm and welcoming, it was like coming home. He felt he could stand there forever, just drinking her in. When he pulled away, to rest his forehead against hers, they were both breathing heavily. He lowered his head to kiss her again, when she put her finger to his lips.

“Don’t think this means all is forgiven. You’re on probation.”

“Of course.” He agreed, trying to kiss her again and she evaded.

“You need to answer a question for me.” She demanded very seriously.

“Anything.” He replied getting worried.

“Did you sleep with that actress you were dating?”

Henry’s relief was so complete he released the breath he’d been holding on a laugh.

“That wasn’t real. That was set-up by our respective publicists. We spent maybe three days together, nothing more than holding hands for the paparazzi. She needed some good press, and we thought it would do me some good to be in the papers as well.”

“I was so hurt when I saw those pictures. I was trying to avoid any sort of entertainment news, but it’s everywhere. I felt like I didn’t really mean anything to you, that you could jump into a new relationship so quickly.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you. If it makes you feel better, I was hurting on the inside just as much. I’ve missed you terribly.” This time when he leaned down for a kiss, she met him halfway, running her hands up his chest to loop around his neck and bring him closer. He lowered his hands to her hips, tugging her closer to fit against him. Henry broke free from the kiss, only to begin raining kisses along Lucy’s jaw and neck. Her head lolled back on a moan.

There was a brief knock on the door, before it swung open. Emma entered. Lucy and Henry jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Lucy blushed adorably. “I take it this means you’re taking him back?” Emma asked sardonically looking from one to the other then back again. “I should be upset that my date is making out with somebody else, but I think I’ll get over it. Are you going to come chaperone this event, miss class adviser?”

“Oh god! What are the kids going to think?” Lucy asked covering her face with her hands.

“Well, I’ll tell you, you’re definitely the talk of dinner. It’s almost time for our table to be served, if you want to eat.”

“We really should get out there.” Lucy said starting for the door, when Emma stopped her.

“You’re going to want to put yourself back together. You’ve been in here for almost 20 minutes. You can’t go out there looking rumpled. Take a minute. I’ll be outside.” And she exited.

Lucy turned to Henry and laughed. She walked over to him, swiping her thumb across his lips, and coming up with a sample of her lipstick. “You straighten yourself, and think cold thoughts. I’ll put myself to rights in the bathroom.” Lucy gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged, and her hair had come half down from it’s pins. She righted it, and her face before exiting.

“Come on, honey, let’s get going.” She said extending her hand to him.

“You want me to stay?” Henry asked.

“Oh honey, of course you’re staying. First of all because I want you here, but second this is part of dating a teacher; attending events like this. Consider this part of your probation. And by the way, you’re going to dance with me. And if any of my girls ask, you’ll dance with them too. You’ll take as many selfies as the kids want. This is their night. Prepare to be a chaperone.” She laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the ballroom.

Chapter 46 Chapter 48

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill fan fic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Carried Away

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nehawriter16 · 6 years

Text

2018, THE YEAR THAT BROKE ME

I’m currently sitting on the floor of my bedroom. It’s been a day of avoiding real work and responsibilities, but then again, escapism is kind of the theme of this year, so it’s only accurate that I’m here writing this.

Everybody is asleep, except me. And the men I like who live overseas, but they’ve been ignoring me, so I have no desire to ring them up despite the general despair and loneliness I feel. But let’s not begin our round up with boys, because although they rank high on my list of important life lessons/disappointments this year, I don’t want also want to give them the satisfaction of first place.

In the last 365 days, a lot about my life changed. I’m going to try to sum it up as best as I can.

1) In the beginning of December, I quit an internship that anybody else would have killed for. The work and constant travelling and being yelled at by crude seniors broke the delicate petal that I am. I’d landed that job at 19, and I loved that I was thrown into the adult world so early because it taught me a lot, but two years of showing up every day to do something I don’t love killed something inside of my brain. And so, I decided to take a month off and then move to a smaller firm, not realising that my job at EY would help to keep my sanity by keeping me occupied.

The first few weeks were bliss. After twelve hour work days, I suddenly had a lot of free time and I indulged in attending fun trainings and catching up with old friends. For a short second, life was filled with hope, up until my birthday in mid Jan.

2) Since I now had the luxury of lesser work hours, I decided to pursue one of my biggest dreams – writing a book. I already had the story in mind, and I thought that despite the emotional turmoil that revisiting some of the memories would bring, the bigger picture would be worth it. It’s almost the end of December now, and I’m still sure it is.

But the truth is – my relationship with A blossomed in 2016, and died a premature death in mid 2017. And I’ve been dragging it through the ground for longer than I should be. Sometimes I wonder if I’m solely responsible for squeezing it for the story. Or maybe it was the kind of love you can’t forget. Well, I can’t. I’m sure he has.

But one of the hardest things about writing this has been taking myself back to when we were falling for each other. I’ve been reading emails about hopes and dreams and forever after it has already ended. And how do you write about happiness when you know there isn’t going to be any? All this is important for the narrative, yes, but it fucks with my mental health so badly. 2016 me was naive and trusting. 2018 me is bitter, and not too thrilled about revisiting those moments mostly because of how much they hurt just to think about, forget turning them into an interesting cliff hanger filled story.

I have almost finished writing it though, and that’s what’s the more important thing. I don’t know what kind of nightmares publishing and finding an agent and royalties is going to bring, but at least I will have created something tangible and coherent instead of this faraway thing that I’ve dreamt of since I was 13.

3) I tanked my CA Final – and this was the biggest disappointment, no surprises there. More than the gallons of self loathing it brought on me, it was about the burden I created for my parents. Yesterday my mother, in a burst of anger, said, “If you don’t pass in May, you can’t live under our roof anymore.” She doesn’t know this, and she probably never will, but I cried myself to sleep because that thought terrifies me.

I feel like I am already just swimming through a rubble of guilt. Most people my age have already gotten well paying jobs and have been living out of home for years now. They are financing themselves and starting businesses and I don’t even read the newspaper on a daily basis. I lack the self control I used to have in school, or maybe my mother’s constant nagging and being up my ass was the only way I stayed successful when I was younger.

Of course, this career choice was a MASSIVE bad decision, and I’ve always felt out of place in it. I will never be the best, but I really do need to pass and finish. If I can’t pass it again, I will literally sink into unconquerable depression that no amount of therapy and medicines will be able to pull me out of.

I’m supposed to start studying from the 1st, and I hope that it doesn’t drive me FUCKING INSANE like the last time it did, because this time, the pressure is higher and time, lesser.

I still have some grit left in me though. The last two months of this year have been difficult, but creatively fulfilling, and I am okay with having to go back to analytical subjects again. I feel sane enough to drop into the mental battlefield that is the CA Final syllabus.

4) I’m 23 in a fortnight, and at least 5 of my friends got engaged this year. I was the oldest in school in my batch so they’re all younger than me. This whole finding a boy thing is stressing me the fuck out, because as per my calculations, it would take a year of courting for me to so much as like somebody seriously. After that, it would take two years for me to try every possible method to drive him away, and torture him with all my hamartias, and THEN if he doesn’t leave, and when he proposes, I’ll be like, “Okay fine. Maybe we can be engaged.” This whole process takes 3 years. I want to be married at 26, so I only have those many. The problem is that in this time period, it will not only be difficult to find an emotionally available boy with a pretty face – WAIT, for him to find me, because women don’t do the chasing – who is also sexy and charming and reads poetry and has a sensible head on his shoulders. No, in this time period I will also be taking solely career-oriented decisions as one must, and love will always take the backseat. I want to move abroad in 2020 and he may live somewhere else, and it’s clear from my several failed attempts that I can’t do long distance. Also to be noted that you cannot try this experiment with different men simultaneously. It’s sort of a one lab rat at a time type of test.

So what, then? Fuck feelings, and only be serious with hook ups? I think I’ve filled my 2018 with at least a two dozen of those hot but dumb types (tall, abs, rolling in money, half a brain, bonus if they’re good kissers, but you can never date them seriously) and to be honest I’m getting tired of them. First of all, they’re all pussies about the poetry, it literally frightens them which I find kind of hilarious, but it’s also annoying. Sure, we can roll a joint and make out on my terrace, and they’ll just pull up when I find myself getting even the least bit lonely, but the ones I really like – the fuckboys who I see have real turning into boyfriend potential – they live abroad. It’s so cliché, I might vomit, but they literally live in London and New York. London Boy is only here for a month and then he’s gone. New York one may stay back, but he always wants to meet after midnight and there’s no fucking way my parents are allowing that.

And let’s face it, I’m a relationship girl. Sure, I’ve picked up some skills with hooking up and if we’re being honest I don’t really have to make an effort, just pick a half-interesting loser from the hundred DM’s sitting in my Instagram, and it’s done. He does the work and buys the drinks. I put out. I ghost. It’s practically a system.

But I’m bored now. I need somebody entertaining. But no matter what, one of the most important lessons I’ve learnt this year is to never settle for less than what I deserve. (At least for my heart. My body gets it when she likes it, and thats enough.) So I say no to…well, everybody. True love has literally been evading me, and may for a while, I think until this CA shit is done, because it’s more important anyway.

Until then, I literally have a broadcast list called, “FWB.”

4) Do I even need to write about fake friends? Girls are so fucking FAKE NICE, it irritates me. And I have a great group of these girls in my life, who want nothing more than to use you as a stool to get to where they want. I have very few real friends and I’m so grateful for them (okay, her) because everybody else is just about the temporary bullshit. I am always afraid of judgement with them, and everything I say comes with a “what will they think of me?” filter. I don’t think real friendships should be like that at all. No, in a true friendship, you should be able to take both – your make up and fake bitch mask off and sit around in sweats, drinking and complaining about everything that’s wrong with your life.

Is this really how adults act? Will I always have to worry about the ulterior motives of everybody new I meet? And even scarier, if I spend enough time around them, will I also turn into a self centered asshole with no backbone? Will I forget who I am and start adapting to the social settings into which I’ve been thrust?

Because I hope not. Despite everything that’s happened this year, and despite almost losing my mind to mental health (yes! A thing I am still not ready to talk about! But someday will be!) I actually like my brain and what its capable of, once it starts trying. I like the stuff I come up with, the way my thoughts come out as sentences. I am actually a fan of the voice in my head, who – let’s face it – has been a real ass friend to me also. Even though she kind of went crazy with the depression, but I think the recovery has begun.

2018 was a fucking shithole, and god, I fell deep. I know 2019 is going to be even harder but I hope it is filled with more genuine happiness because it’s been a long time since I felt “happiness” as a permanent, internal feeling. It’s just been more of a fleeting and momentary thing for a few hours before the sadness envelopes me and takes lead.

So I hope that when I speak to you in – and over – the next 365 day period that’s about to begin, I am able to share some more hope and joy with you. I hope the motherfucker I’m going to marry stops sitting around on his ass and finds me, because I’m ready for my heart to be won over again. I have mourned enough, and fucked half the high spirits crowd. But most of all… I hope this book I’ve written does well. Not just because it’s a brilliant piece of shit, and a beautiful fucking story (if I may say so myself) but mostly because I really like clothes and I could use the money.

Also it would be great to stop feeling so mediocre all the time, so yeah. That would be nice. Will keep you updated Tumblr!

Love,

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prophetandprincess · 6 years

Text

X X X X X X X

My life is a literal dumpster fire, but I didn’t forget about you guys

"Explain to me why you like living in New York again?" Jake asked as Alex made her way out of the subway station on her way to the Malone's home.

"Good morning to you as well," Alex laughed as she headed through the streets of Queens. "What exactly is making you question my life choices this time? Also, you live in Miami, you have no room to talk."

"Miami is drug dealers and gangs, not superheroes and aliens and shit, totally different," Jake huffed. "Apparently some animal or something ripped up this scientist's apartment. Luckily they were at the work or something or it would have seriously hurt or killed them. Then there is that Spider-dude or whatever crawling all over the city. None of that touches on the fact that you work for the fucking Hulk."

"Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning, Jake?" Alex couldn't help but laugh. This was a conversation that she had with every member of her family over every form of communication device. It just didn't bother her anymore.

"Lexie, I'm worried about you. More than usual. Promise me you won't take any unnecessary risks, okay? You know how much Mom and Dad worry," Jake said.

"Mom's last email made that very clear in how she completely ignored asking about anything going on with my internship or the city. I'll be careful." Alex knew that she was lying as she said the words.

While she hadn't given her answer to Professor Warren, she knew that she was going to say yes. That meant she would be willingly walking into somewhere with the word institute in the name and those places were rarely pleasant. She doubted that they just let the inhabitants of such a place just walk about, but it was an unnecessary risk. However, it was nothing that Jake needed to know about.

"Jake, I've got to let you go. I'm fulfilling an obligation to a very demanding eight year old this afternoon." Alex said as she turned onto the Malone's street, pushing hair out of her face when the wind kicked up. "Talk to you later?"

"You have my number. We also have to plan when I'm coming up to visit you," Jake said before they made their goodbyes and hung up.

Sandy was sitting on the front steps of her house kicking her shoes against the wooden step. Alex knew the Malone house better than the back of her hand, which floorboards creaked, and just where you had to hit the fridge so the ice came out of the door. The Malone residence felt like home, much like the farmhouse that Alex grew up in, though it was a good deal smaller and updated in the last decade.

"You're exactly seven minutes late," Sandy scolded when she saw Alex, turning her wrist so that Alex could see her Minnie Mouse watch.

"There were a lot of people on the subway this morning Your Highness, I do apologize." Alex tried not to smile at the eight year old girl scolding her for a few minutes of tardiness as she gave her a huge hug. Especially since this was the same child that attempted to convince Alex that going to bed an hour later really didn't matter because time wasn't real. "I see that you've gotten better at telling time."

"You know how she is when she puts her mind to something," Diana Malone appeared at the front door, slinging her purse onto her shoulder. "You're looking a bit thin, dear. Have you been eating? Sleeping?"

"I'm perfectly healthy," Alex fibbed as she mounted the stairs so that she could hug Mrs. Malone. "Heading to the restaurant?"

"Tom was keeping an eye on things this morning, giving me a morning to sleep and see you. However, his arm's broken, it's Saturday, we have a few new girls that are a little wobbly on the floor, I still have to do inventory to place the order on Monday and-"

"And a million other things that a responsible business owner needs to take care of to keep a restaurant running smoothly." Alex cut Mrs. Malone off before she could finish the list and send both of their anxieties through the roof. "I promise that I'll take good care of Sandy and have her back by dinner."

"I never worry about Sandy when she's with you." Mrs. Malone locked up the house and all three of them made their way onto the sidewalk. "Why don't you just drop her off at the restaurant when you're done and I'll feed you both? At least I'll know you'll get one good meal this week."

"You promised me ice cream, remember?" Sandy piped up, putting her small and slightly sticky hand into Alex's. She didn't really want to know what was on the little girl's hand.

"Of course I remember. I'm sure you're going to want popcorn, cotton candy, and any other junk food you happen to see." Alex playfully smacked the bill of Sandy's pink baseball hat before looking back up to Mrs. Malone. "We'll come by the restaurant when we're done."

"I can drive you guys to the zoo? It's no trouble." Mrs. Malone beeped her car open and tossed her purse inside.

"I want to take the subway," Sandy cut in before Alex could say anything.

"You're literally the only New Yorker I know who wants to take the subway," Alex laughed. "Well, the girl of the day has spoken, we're going to take the subway."

"You have my number if anything comes up." Mrs. Malone discreetly slipped a twenty dollar bill into Alex's hand before scooping her daughter up into a hug. Before Alex could give the money back, Mrs. Malone was in the car and driving away. Alex and Sandy waved goodbye before they headed to the nearest subway station. By the time that they exited at the Fifth Avenue and Fifty-Ninth street station, Sandy had explained every detail about her school and her friends. Every, single, detail.

A group of boys almost ran over Sandy on their way to Central Park Zoo and Alex had to physically move the little girl out of the way. It took all of Alex's self-control not to swear colorfully, or chase after them to teach them some manners. She wanted to set a good example for Sandy and didn't want to explain to Mrs. Malone how Alex had gotten into a fist fight outside the zoo. It really wouldn't have been a fair fight anyway.

Sandy, in true New York fashion, completely forgot about the incident the moment it was over. Instead, she focused on explaining about how she was now picked first at recess to play kickball. Soon, Alex's head was filled up with all the names of her fellow classmates that Sandy kept mentioning and she forgot the teenagers as well.

"Fancy meeting you here." Alex spun around at the male voice, pulling Sandy behind her in one fluid movement. Of everything she expected to see, coming almost nose to nose with a smiling Peter Parker was not on the list of possibilities. Well, almost nose to nose, Peter was a couple inches taller than she was.

"Parker," Alex said through gritted teeth. "That's a good way to get a knee to the groin or a taser to the chest. Are you stalking me?"

"Hey," Peter help up his hands to show that he meant no harm, looking serious. "I swear on whatever you want me to swear on that I was just walking in the park and saw you, scouts honor."

There was something about Peter that made it hard for Alex not to give him a small smile or take him as a serious threat. He was in a t-shirt from what she guessed was his high school, ripped jeans, and beat up converses. For a twenty something white male, he looked rather nonthreatening. Still, it was one thing for someone to approach her when she was alone, especially a college acquaintance, but she had Sandy with her. Appearances could be deceiving and she would rip Peter limb from limb with her bare hands if he so much looked at Sandy wrong. Also, she was pretty sure that there was a university policy that if her partner died during the semester, she got an A.

"Are you A.J's friend?" Sandy asked, peeking around Alex's leg, being uncharacteristically quiet up to this point. This was the girl who had asked James, a man who looked like he could snap someone's neck, if he was dating Alex and then got offended when he said no. To say Sandy was fearless and unable to keep her mouth shut were both gross understatements.

"I'm trying to be Alex's friend, but she had relegated me to the lab partner zone." Peter laugh as he squatted down so that they were on the same level and offered his hand. "Peter Parker, pleasure to meet you."

"Sandy Malone," the small voice was very serious as she took the hand and gave it a firm shake, "and I don't know what rele…relegating? I don't know what that word means."

"Relegate means that I have decided that we can only have a specific type of relationship," Alex attempted to explain in a way that Sandy would understand while glaring at Peter. "And girls don't like whiny boys, Parker."

"Are you saying you'd find me attractive if I didn't whine?" Peter smiled up at her, ignoring the glare, before turning his attention back to Sandy. "Are you enjoying being out in the park now that it's a bit cooler?"

"We're going to the zoo because Alex was gone all summer and didn't play with me," Sandy explained before she also looked up to Alex. "Can Peter come with us? It would be more fun because he can put me up on his shoulders to see the snow leopards and bears."

"I'm sure Parker has something better to do than cater to your every whim, your highness." Alex gave the little girl a playful push while giving Peter a 'don't you dare' look. "Honestly, the world doesn't revolve around you, Squirt. People have things to do."

"You know Sandy, I've been thinking recently that I wanted to see the snow leopards again. I haven't been to the zoo since I was about your age." Peter got to his feet and gave Alex a wide smile. "That is, if Alex doesn't mind me coming along."

"She doesn't mind," Sandy said before Alex could form a coherent statement that was PG rated. "Do you Alex?"

Alex looked from Sandy to Peter, both all brown eyes and bright smiles and thought a lot of unflattering thoughts about Peter Parker. There was something about Peter just showing up places that was bothering Alex, but she couldn't figure out if it was a very intense crush or something more dangerous. Still, Alex was only human and two pairs of puppy dog eyes were too much for her to deal with.

"Since Peter doesn't seem to have anything else to do, I can't stop him from coming to the zoo with us." Alex regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth, but there was no taking them back now.

"You have to buy your own ice cream though," Sandy stated before turning on her heels and starting toward the front gate. The little girl being more than a few steps away from Alex made her nervous, so she only spared Peter a glare before following after Sandy.

"For letting me join your group, I'll buy everyone ice cream." Peter slipped his hands into his pockets, winking at Alex before strolling along behind Sandy. There was an overwhelming urge to smack that smile off his face, but Alex restrained herself as she caught up with Sandy, taking her hand.

Sandy chattered away to Peter as they walked about everything she had already told Alex on the way to the zoo. Alex toyed with the idea of calling Sam to have him come meet her, but then she thought that might be overreacting just a bit. Peter wasn't giving off that bad of a vibe and Sam would tease her relentlessly about crashing what he would perceive as a date.

Alex perked up a bit when Sandy started asking Peter questions about himself. In the time it took them to buy their tickets, and it took quite a while since half of New York decided to go to the zoo as well, Alex learned a lot about Peter. He was an only child, raised by his aunt and uncle after his parents passed, until his uncle died trying to stop a robbery a couple years previously. Alex felt guilty that she never even thought to ask Peter about himself and that she had been so harsh on him. She just hadn't thought that anything so serious had happened when he had a happy go lucky attitude.

"Let's start at the far end of the zoo, the kiddy zoo, and then make our way back," Sandy screamed over the din of the crowd.

"So we go right past the ice cream vendor, I see what you're doing," Alex laughed as she took Sandy's hand so she stayed close. Hopefully, no one else had the same idea and the crowd would thin out a bit. Usually Alex thrived in large crowds, it's why she left her little Midwest town, but when she was with Sandy everything suddenly became a danger.

"Aren't you a little old for the kiddy zoo?" Peter walked on the other side of Sandy, almost as if he sensed Alex's anxiety. He didn't put a hand on Sandy or take her hand, but he walked just a little bit behind her so that no one harm could come from her on that side.

"You are never too old for cute animals, Peter," Sandy sniffed, obviously offended.

Alex couldn't help but smile. Sandy was only eight, but she was aware of who she was and what she liked. Not only that, she had no problem telling the rest of the world to go to hell if they stated that she shouldn't like it. If Sandy could carry that through the trails of being a teenager, she was going to be a force to be reckoned with. Hell, she was a force to be reckoned with now. Sandy's indignation also stopped her from noticing that they walked right past the obnoxiously long line for the ice cream vendor.

"Woah, woah, woah, I'm not saying that you're wrong." Peter held up his hands, palms face out. "I'm a huge fan of anything cute and cuddly. Baby ducks and cows, the best. I just know that a lot of people your age don't usually like to admit that they do because of their image. By all means, let's go pet some animals."

"Did you know Alex grew up on a farm? She owns horses and cows and sheep! She promised that when I am a bit older and she's done with college, she is going to take me to see them all. She's going to let me ride one of the horses, too!" Sandy was basically bouncing on her toes at the thought while they waited to cross 65th street.

"You're a country girl?" Peter raised an eyebrow at that, eyes going to Alex's earrings and tattoos. "Would not have guessed that."

"I'm full of surprises." Alex gave him a small smile before they crossed the street.

Peter gave her a crooked smile, but turned his attention back down to Sandy, who had started chattering away about how she used to go horseback riding. Peter seemed to enjoy himself as much as Sandy, walking through the children's zoo and reading the plaques. Alex found herself starting to relax a bit. Peter was weird, but he seemed to be pretty harmless.

In the main zoo was still crowded, but Peter had gotten Sandy up to the front of the glass to watch the penguins swim. There was one penguin that was moving pebbles from one mound to the other, which Sandy found extremely entertaining. Alex scanned the crowd out of habit when her eyes weren't on the purple t-shirt and brown ponytail sticking out of the baseball hat.

Suddenly, there was this pit of cold in her stomach and Alex's fingers started to rub her wrist. She gave Sandy one more look, seeing Peter next to her, and then turned to see if anyone was giving her this horrible feeling. For a moment she caught sight of a black haired male that seemed familiar, tickling the edge of her memory, but then it disappeared. None of the other patrons stood out to her. However, Alex wanted to anywhere else, but she didn't want to ruin Sandy's fun without good reason.

"Everything alright?" Alex jumped when Peter spoke softly in her ear. She spun around, seeing that he was standing right behind her, holding Sandy's hand.

"Yeah, yeah…I just…" Alex was sure that something was wrong, but she had no proof beside a horrible sense of danger in her stomach. Maybe her paranoia was just getting worse, which was super inconvenient when you lived somewhere as populous as New York City.

"You just?" Peter prompted, his eyes scanning the crowd along with Alex. He moved forward so that they were shoulder to shoulder, which made Alex feel a little better since she wasn't alone. It shocked her a bit, it had been a while since she had felt as if someone had her back instead of someone that she would need to protect.

"I just think that it's time to go get some ice cream." Alex gave Peter a smile.

The mention of ice cream got Sandy's attention and she was more than happy to leave the penguins in search of the nearest ice cream cart. The line wasn't much shorter, but Peter offered to wait in line while the girls sat down on a bench in the shade.

"So you and Peter are partners in college? What does that mean?" Sandy asked as they watched the people walking by them.

"In some of the science classes that you take in college, you have a lab that helps you understand what the teacher told you in class. It's like in Bill Nye the Science Guy where he teaches you how certain science things work, but we have to figure it out ourselves," Alex attempted to explain in a way that Sandy would understand and failing.

"Bill who?" Sandy asked, head tilted to the side. Alex clenched her chest and it was only slightly for dramatic effect. Honestly, she had never felt older. Is this what Steve felt like when someone didn't get one of his references? What the hell were they teaching in school that Sandy didn't know who Bill Nye was? Someone should get a strongly worded letter about this gap in education.

"We are going to watch videos of him on YouTube later, if it isn't on Netflix, but do you understand what I mean? That me and Peter work together to understand what we are learning during class by doing it ourselves," Alex explained.

"Yeah, that makes sense, like when Mrs. Farris made the volcano to show us chemical reactions." Sandy nodded, but there still seemed to be something that was bothering her. "Does that mean that James isn't your boyfriend anymore?"

Before Alex figured out how to answer that very complicated question, Sandy jumped up to grab her ice cream cone from Peter. He had been attempting to carry all three and one had been in danger of sliding off it's cone. Alex followed at a slower pace, mostly because she didn't want to continue that conversation, and let Sandy talk with Peter while they continued through the zoo.

"So," Sandy said from atop Peter's shoulders so she could watch the grizzly bears play in the water over the people pressed against the fence, "do you like Alex? Is that why you picked her as your partner and wanted to come to the zoo with us?"

Alex envisioned herself jumping into the bear pen, being mauled quickly sounded very appealing. However, she wouldn't want to the poor bear to be harmed because an eight year old asked if she was dating her lab partner. That was a bit dramatic. At least Peter was blushing a bit too, focusing on his shoelaces as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"I mean, you aren't as good looking as James, who was her last boyfriend." Sandy continued, ignoring both Alex and Peter's discomfort. "But you're also very different. He was very quiet and you talk a lot. You're funnier too. James also didn't buy my ice cream, but he did get Alex breakfast that one time. James also had a really nice smile."

"James sounds dreamy," Peter said as he looked over at Alex with a crooked smile before he helped Sandy down off his shoulders. "From what you're telling me, I don't think I can complete with this James character. Honestly, I'm just trying to be Alex's friend. She's way out of my league."

Sandy nodded and then took Peter's hand and started to walk over to the snow leopards. Peter gave Alex a wink as he followed after Sandy. Alex decided to finish her ice cream before she stuck her foot in her mouth. While it was a little flattering that Sandy thought any man remotely close in age to Alex was interested in dating her, it did make things embarrassing. Especially since it was hard to get a read on if Peter was interested in her romantically, as a friend, or if he was a stalker.

"Out of your league?" Alex asked quietly while Sandy pressed against the glass to watch the large cat prowl around the enclosure.

"I was worried if I said anything else she would kick me in the shins. I didn't realize they made bodyguards so small," Peter laughed as they watched Sandy. "It also seemed the best answer to save both of us a good bit of embarrassment. I was being completely serious when I said the ex-boyfriend sounded dreamy, however."

"Is there a question there?" Alex really hoped there wasn't.

"I mean, he sounds practically perfect in every way. What happened? Was he married? Not that I'm judging you or anything, I'm just curious." Peter dropped his voice as if anyone at the zoo would care about her dating habits.

"You know what they said about curiosity and the cat, don't you?" Alex gave him a look, but then sighed and shook her head. "He wasn't married, but it was…complicated. He was older and it just ended up not working out. Also, I'll try not to be offended that you think I'd have an affair with a married man."

"I wasn't trying to offend you, it's just obvious that you're still into him and everything, so I was trying to think of why you wouldn't still be together." Peter and Alex moved with Sandy as she moved to the red panda exhibit. "It's just that people have a way of making things more complicated that they are. It might not be too late to talk things out with Mr. Dreamy."

"Are you my relationship counselor now?" Alex snapped before grabbing Sandy before she walked in front of a stroller. "Frankly, it's none of your business so drop it."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help here." Peter put his hands in his pockets as he turned his attention back to the red pandas. "As someone who royally screwed up the one good relationship he had, you shouldn't let something important slip away from you."

"Mom says that A.J. represses her emotions because she is scared of being vulnerable," Sandy piped in as she took Alex's hand. "Can I have cotton candy? You did promise cotton candy."

"From the mouth of babes," Peter muttered, but whistled innocently when Alex glared at him.

"I promised you ice cream, but I mentioned that I knew you were going to bother me for cotton candy because you have no shame. There is a difference." Alex smacked the bill of her baseball cap. "But I guess it's alright to rot your teeth out, they are still the baby ones after all. It will also keep you from any other opinions about my personal life."

"Wonderful parenting skills," Peter commented, giving Alex a thumbs up when she glared again. "I mean it on par with telling her to play in traffic, but you're getting there."

"Hey, I'm not her mother. I'm just supposed to make sure that she doesn't die and gets to bed on time when I watch her," Alex laughed as she let Sandy start to pull her in the direction of the cotton candy. "If that means that I have to hop her on sugar and carbs to keep her in almost one piece, so be it. I'm not above that."

"Good to know that you aren't scared to bend the rules when the occasion calls for it," Peter laughed. "You know, I always did peg you as a true neutral type of girl, but chaotic good might fit too."

"English, please, Parker. I understood every other word of that." Alex resisted the urge to rub her temples. Peter was jumping from topic to topic and most of them were ones that she had no desire to talk about. Sandy was not helping matters in the slightest. How did she get herself into this situation again?

"He's talking about Dungeons and Dragons, your characters have alignments, which lets people know about how they make decisions," Sandy explained with a weariness that startled a laugh out of both Peter and Alex. "Also, you're so wrong. She's chaotic neutral."

"I bow to your superior knowledge of Harper's personality, you have known her longer than I have." Peter literally bowed to the little girl. "How do you know about D&D?"

"My dad plays and he taught me all about it, he even is helping me make my own character, even though there is no one for me to play with." Sandy shrugged as she looked up at Peter. "I should have known you played. You look like you do."

"I'll try not to be offended. D&D is starting to become popular again," Peter laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as Alex spotted a stall that sold cotton candy.

"Well, maybe you should look less like a nerd," Sandy said simply.

Alex hid her huge smile behind her hand and a fake cough. From the mouth of babes indeed. However, while she loved Sandy to death, especially the lack of filter the young girl had, this was a teaching moment. As much as she joked with Peter, she did want Sandy to be a better person than Alex.

"Sandy," Alex knelt down, "what have I told you about commenting on people's appearance?"

"If they can't change that within five minutes, then I should keep it to myself," Sandy sighed as she took her baseball cap off and itched her scalp. "But if he took the glasses off, dressed in less layers, and clothes that actually fit him, he wouldn't look like such a geek. He can do that in five minutes."

"And with that, we're going to get you sugar to stop you from talking," Alex got up and grabbed a bag of pink and blue sugar fluff as well as a bottle of water. The price was obnoxious, but anything to get Sandy to stop speaking for just a couple minutes. Alex mixed some of the pink and blue together and handed the bag down to the eight year old as if she was offering tribute to a god.

"So…you ready for the quiz on Monday?" Peter asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

"I still need to study," Alex sighed, so thankful to move onto a topic that wasn't her relationship with a super soldier. "I'm worried I bombed the one that we took in lab."

"Well if you bombed it, we're both screwed 'cause I copied all your answers," Peter smiled as he plucked from pink cotton candy from the bag in Alex's hand. "So I hear that you work at Stark Industries."

"What about it?" Alex licked some cotton candy residue off her fingers, eyes narrowing. "And who told you that I was working at Stark Tower?"

"I mean, when someone still in undergraduate and working with Tony Stark and Dr. Banner, people start to talk around campus," Peter shrugged, nudging Sandy with his hand to get her out of the way of a large group of teenagers who were having too much fun to pay attention to where they were going. "Are you going to start coming to class in spandex and a mask that only covers your cheek bones?"

"Only in your dreams Parker," Alex took another bit of cotton candy.

Just when she was starting to get comfortable with having Peter around, he started giving off weird vibes again. Alex was pretty sure she hadn't told anyone other than Monica and her advisor to get the credits for working at Stark Industries about the position. Monica may talk a lot, but she was very good at keeping secrets, especially Alex's. So that begged the question, how did Peter know that Alex worked for Stark Industries?

"God, being at the Tower must be amazing," Peter continued with a bounce in his step. "I mean, all that cutting edge technology? I would kill just to have like fifteen minutes with the things he has in that lab. Hell, the computer programs along would probably blow my mind."

"Actually they make me want to tear my hair out, but to each their own, I guess." Alex muttered, wondering again about getting that background check on Peter. "I don't do much there, really. Clean Petri dishes and test tubes, fetch coffee, stuff like that, but I'm getting paid so I can't complain."

"You're telling me they're having the girl who co-authored a paper with the head of the microbiology department about the use of bacteria to fight cancer, fetch coffee? That's really a waste of your talents." Peter plucked some more cotton candy out of the bag as he gave Alex a look.

"What were you doing reading a paper about the use of bacteria to fight cancer?" Alex didn't want to sound so defensive, but she didn't remember really working on that paper. It sounded very interesting, she wondered what she did on it. It would probably a topic that would help her while working in the medical division of Stark Industries.

"I make it a point to know whether I'm going to have to do all the work in group projects," Peter laughed.

"Peter, look!" Sandy grabbed his hand and led him into the tropic zoo building.

Alex followed after them, still trying to figure if Peter was a love sick puppy or tipping over into the dangerous stalker territory. While she didn't have that icy cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had become accustomed to with people who set off her warning bells, there was something not right about that boy. That fact that she didn't know what was really starting to bother her.

Peter kept up a running dialogue with Sandy about facts that he knew about bats. Apparently, he was very interested in echo location, and was trying to explain it to Sandy in a way that she would understand. The eight-year-old was enthralled and Alex even learned a thing or two. "How did you learn so much about bats?" Alex asked when Sandy walked over to watch a demonstration about tropical snakes. While Alex was not scared of snakes, any girl that grew up in the creeks and fields of the Midwest couldn't start crying at the sight of a snake. That being said, she did not want to get up close and intimate with them if she could help it. That was doubly true for spiders, so Alex said near the edges of the group to keep an eye on Sandy and away from the creatures on display.

"I read a lot of Batman comics," Peter whispered with a shrug.

"You're joking," Alex turned to look at him. Comic books have never been Alex's thing, but she was pretty sure that Bruce Wayne didn't use echolocation as one of his skills. Even if he did, she doubted the comics would explain more than the episode of The Magic School Bus that Alex learned the basics from in elementary school. Then again, Playboy had good articles sometimes.

"Yeah, I am." Peter gave her a wink. "I was working on something at Oscorp for a while and it was about animal genetics. I got into looking into research for a bunch of animals, spiders, mostly, but also some bats and rats."

"You worked for Oscorp?" Alex looked at Peter, a bit surprised. He was a couple years younger than her at least, so how did he get a job at one of the top biomedical companies in the world so young? Maybe they had a high school internship program? He did say he was New York, born and raised.

"What? No, no, I umm…I knew someone who worked there," Peter's face fell and he kicked a pebble away from him.

Alex waited for Peter to ramble on about whoever he was referring to, telling her their entire life story in the most convoluted way possible, but he stayed quiet. When she looked over at him, his head was still down and there was this expression that made her heart sink. Whoever it was, they had been romantically involved and it hadn't ended well, it was written all over his face. It was the same expression she saw in the mirror sometimes when she wasn't careful and thought about James as she got ready for bed.

"Alex, I can put a boa constrictor around my neck!" Sandy screamed from the front of the group, bouncing on her toes. "Come and take a picture to take to send to my mom!"

So this was karma for Alex taking so much joy from Sandy calling Peter a nerd earlier. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, telling herself that it was going to be fine. In fact, it could be worse, Sandy could have wanted to hold a tarantula. While Alex had strong protective instincts, it would have been too much for her to watch a spider crawl all over Sandy. She would have to bow out of that and had Peter keep an eye on the situation.

"Come on, it will be fun," Peter gave Alex a nudge toward the front of the crowd. "Unless you're scared?"

Alex glared as they made their way through the mass of people who had been watching. While she would like to say she was mature and above petty taunts, it was almost as if he was Double Dog Daring her, and she'd now rather die than show any fear. Still, the snake was so heavy that the handler had to support the creature on one end and, after a look from Peter, Alex went and held the other end. Her smile was pretty strained as Peter took the pictures, and she let go of it as soon as humanly possible, but Sandy seemed taken with the large reptile.

"Do you think mom will let me get a pet snake?" Sandy asked as they used hand sanitizer on their way out of the tropical building.

"I'm going to go with no on that one, Squirt," Alex laughed as she slung her arm over the little girl's shoulders. Mrs. Malone was not a fan of animals in general, unless they were dead and being served in her restaurant. While she would pet a dog in passing, Mrs. Malone had no desire to own one. A snake was probably so out of the realm of possibility that you couldn't even see it in this galaxy.

"Besides, do you really want to be the one that had to feed it all those cute little mice for dinner? You said you liked cute things earlier." Peter added when Sandy didn't really seem to listen to Alex's gentle no.

Sandy wrinkled up her nose and gave a little head shake at the thought, which made Alex sigh in relief. Mrs. Malone would not take it well if Sandy came home demanding a snake after their trip today. The picture alone was going to set the restaurant owners maternal instincts into overdrive.

"What do you say kid? You ready to get out of here?" Alex asked, figuring that Mrs. Malone was probably going to want to see her child wasn't eaten by the large yellow snake. It was also already three in the afternoon. Where had the day gone?

"Yeah, my feet are starting to hurt and I'm hungry," Sandy admitted as she slipped her hand back into Alex's. "Peter, do you want to come and have dinner with us?"

"That's a tempting offer, but I'm going to have to take a rain check," Peter said before Alex could give him a 'don't you dare look'. "I live with my aunt and she cooks enough to feed an army, even though it's the two of us. If I don't want to be eating meatloaf for the rest of the week, I should probably head home. Thank you for letting me walk with you guys around the zoo."

"Thank you for picking me up so I could see the animals and buying me ice cream," Sandy said as she reached a hand out to Peter, very serious.

"It was my absolute pleasure. Maybe, if Alex let's us, we'll do it again sometime," Peter was just as serious as he took Sandy's hand and shook it. "It's not like she's going to be able to get away from me anyway."

"We'll see," Alex said before Sandy could beg her to make some sort of social commitment. While nothing had happened at the zoo, Alex still had a hard time believing that Peter just happened to be in the right place at the right time to invite himself along for today's activities. Much like when he just happened to be jogging at the same time she was, it just didn't feel completely right. There was something off about Peter.

"I'm telling you, my aunt is going to invite you over for dinner at some point this semester. She loves to see that I do, in fact, have friends." Peter said as he started walking backwards, hands in his pockets.

"A personable guy like you? It's hard to believe that you don't have loads of friends," Alex laughed as they started in the opposite direction toward the subway.

"Apparently, some people find me annoying," Peter gave her a wide smile. "Imagine that."

"You don't say?" Alex laughed and shook her head.

"See you Monday!" Peter called with a wave before disappearing into the faceless mass that is New York City. He was strange, and possibly stalking her out of some misplaced chivalry, but he was also entertaining. Kind of like a large puppy that wasn't quiet housebroken yet and still thought it was a lap dog.

"Alright, let's go and get you some grub." Alex gave Sandy a hip check, though it was more of a hip to shoulder nudge.

"Peter is strange," Sandy said as they headed down into the subway station. "But I like him."

"Yeah, yeah he is strange." Alex agreed, but she felt herself smiling a little. "But I kind of like him too. Just don't tell anyone, especially him, that I said that."

#Marvel #fanfic #My writing #A Spider Sat Down Beside Her #Update 8 #the amazing spider-man #peter parker

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blkpnkwriting · 7 years

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something to nothing

Lisa x Reader

Rated: M

Warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, and general angst

Word count: 2,700

You were never lovers, but you were almost something. Now, it’s like you’re strangers.

NOTE: i don’t have the original request for this prompt, but i do know it was from the lovely #hayleykanonyme who suggested i write something about the song “strangers” by halsey and lauren jauregui. if you haven’t heard the song, i strongly suggest listening while reading this !!

she doesn’t kiss me on the mouth anymore

You still remember that first time. That first kiss. Not your first ever kiss, but it certainly felt like that. When Lisa captured you in that surprise, a quick and altogether too fleeting kiss, it was like it erased every single instance of kissing someone else before her. You knew that you wanted to do it again. If picking flowers from the side of the road meant that she was so happy --- grinning from ear to ear, clutching those stupid daisies like she had never seen them before --- that she could kiss you like that, then you would rip up every single flower you saw. You’d give her bouquets of them, and watch her bounce in place, showering petals around her feet like the princess she is.

The short report of knocks on the door shot your heart into your throat. It could only be one person this late at night, and it went without warning. It made you all the more excited. In the futile seconds before you reached the door, you attempted to spruce yourself up. Not look like you had been alone and watching dramas for hours on end without leaving the couch once, even when you spilled sweet and sour sauce on your shorts. Before you turned the doorknob, you decided it was best that you just get rid of them now anyway. You shuffled the shorts down your legs and kicked them behind a couple pairs of shoes, then opened.

You didn’t need to see her to know it was Lisa. You could smell her hair as her mouth latched your neck. You could feel her fingers grabbing at the back of your shirt, seeking purchase, wanting the clothing gone and to feel your skin under her nails. And it wasn’t the first time she used your body to shut a door and to trap you there so she could do as she pleased.

But you did notice how she didn’t bother to kiss you. Not even try. You didn’t want it hurt, and yet it did. You liked kissing Lisa, catching that lush lip between your teeth and hearing her sigh against your mouth because she liked it like that. But she didn’t kiss you. Not when she finished the love mark on your collarbone, or when she ripped your shirt over your head, or when she picked you up around her waist and threw you down on the couch. No. Instead, she thought she could distract you. Distract you by kissing every inch of your body that wasn’t your lips as she travelled down your body, seizing your thigh and slinging your leg over her shoulder. It almost worked.

Lisa worked her best. Her tongue laved through your folds and you groaned, feeling her brush past where you wanted her most. It didn’t take long for her to tease you to the point you couldn’t take it. You could feel your wetness on her mouth when she kissed the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You were shaking, and she was holding you down. Her hot breath grazed your lower abdomen, its absence raising goosebumps, and then she was sucking your clit into her mouth and your back was arching because there were two fingers knuckle deep and stroking a spot inside you like she was trying to pluck free the last seams before you came undone ---

It was the last time you two fucked. You could say “fuck” instead of “make love” because to you, there was nothing intimate about it. Lisa didn’t kiss you before she left.

she doesn’t look me in the eyes anymore

Before that first time she kissed you, and that first time she came to you and wanted more than to kiss you, you were friends. You had been friends for a long time. You had both had your shares of partners through the years, watching them come and go from each other’s lives. It never occurred to you that you might have feelings for Lisa. In all honesty, you wanted her to find someone who would make her the happiest and fulfill all the wonderful things she deserves. It was only when it became a possibility that it could be you that you realized you wanted that. To be the one to hold her hand, to wake up beside her, to take her on dates and spoil her, and to be the one she loved back.

It had been a couple weeks since that night. It hurt a lot that she hasn’t come back, that she hasn’t tried to kiss you since then, that it didn’t seem to bother her as much as it bothered you. In fact, it was like she was pretending it never happened. Somehow, you had gone back to just being her friend and never asked you how you felt about it.

Good thing you had a decent poker face. At the very least, she had asked you out for a coffee and didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with you. Even if it was nearly surface level. Lisa picked at the sleeve on her cup, a habit she always had to mess with everything she got her hands on. Ironic, isn’t it? You bit your tongue as you watched her slender fingers peel apart the sleeve, and then she picked it up for a sip, glancing out the window of the café.

“I met someone,” she said.

What you heard was something else entirely.

I’m over you.

“Oh? What’re they like?” you asked, relieved to hear no emotion you didn’t want in your voice.

“He’s nice.” Lisa bowed her head, a small smile on her face. She continued picking at her drink. “He’s a teacher --- well, he’s an artist, but you can’t really make money off that if you aren’t popular, so he teaches grade school. He’s really talented, though. He’s shown me some of his paintings and ---”

A dull ringing had begun in your ears then, which was nice, because you didn’t want to hear what she had to say. You watched her face light up as she spoke, heedless of your inattention. She didn’t stop, and you didn’t want to understand how she had so much to say about this man in such a short amount of time. Maybe that was where she was going all this time she wasn’t with you. Maybe that was who she was kissing instead of you.

Lisa never looked at you while she spoke, like she was scared to look you in the eye. Not even when you interrupted with an excuse that you were unwell and had to leave.

You did see the smile falter on her face when you stood and walked away, but she didn’t stop you.

she doesn’t call me on the phone anymore

Of course, you had friends other than each other. It was just that you preferred each other’s company over most others. Still, it never bothered you when she posted a picture of herself with someone you didn’t recognize, out on the town. Or that she had commitments with people that couldn’t include you. That was life. You had always been okay with that. If something interesting came up, or she had no prior plans, you were always the first she would call. You liked being the one she wanted to tell everything to first. You felt important.

You don’t use social media much. You were the kind of person that liked to live in the moment, with a measure of spontaneity that couldn’t be easily captured and then posted. It felt more authentic that way. And if people wanted to know what you were doing or how things were going, they could message you or call you rather than like a status.

And then there were the cases that going on social media upset you. It was rare, and happened more often in high school than now. News was the only real source of distress that you found. You never expected it to be from something that had never gotten under your skin before.

It had been a couple days since you last heard from Lisa. On a whim, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to snoop around on her Facebook, maybe recount some old memories there. You were looking at your TV when you opened her page. When you looked down, your chest had suddenly become too small to breathe properly.

3 days ago. Lisa had gotten a promotion at her place of work 3 days ago. A promotion that she had been wanting and struggling to get for far too long, something you had heard about more than a handful of times and even comforted her on. She had gotten the promotion and hadn’t told you. You were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” her cheery voice came through the receiver.

“I didn’t know you were promoted, that’s awesome!” you cut to the chase. Your voice was the slightest bit shaky and you hoped she didn’t notice.

“Yeah, it just happened!” she responded. Carefree. “The team took me out for celebratory drinks, I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Odd that she would say it just happened when you had the proof that it had happened a couple days ago. You couldn’t let it go, not with the way your friendship was already diminishing. There was no stopping it.

“Well, your coworker posted a picture about it a couple days ago,” you started, trying to keep from sounding haughty and confrontational. On your end of the phone, your hands were shaking. There were knots in your stomach. For some reason, tears sprung to your eyes.

There was a stutter from Lisa, and you knew you had caught her in a lie.

“I just meant that it was recent. I guess I forgot to tell you since it was all new and exciting, I didn’t know what I was doing. I promise, I won’t forget next time, it was an innocent mistake. I’ll call you first! But I have to run now, new job calls.”

You hung up before she could say goodbye. You didn’t want to hear it. It was becoming too real and for her to say goodbye would feel too much like the end of everything you had together, including your friendship.

Maybe that kiss, all the times you shared together, all those loving moments were what ruined it all. Did you cross a line somewhere? Did you scare her? Did she scare herself? You couldn’t bear to think about it anymore, and hoped to drown your brain in a bottle of vodka.

she doesn’t let me have control anymore

One of the highlights of your friendship together was the annual beach trip. It was a couple hours drive away, something you couldn’t do all the time with the lives that you lead, but once a year, Lisa and you reserved a weekend to rent a small beach house and get away from the city and stress. It was something you always looked forward to. Swimming in the early morning, sunbathing during the day, bonfires and drinks on the beach at night. It was perfect and just the right treat after all that had gone on during the rest of the year. And it was the best with Lisa who knew just how to make every little thing fun, be it creating seashell necklaces, building sand chairs to sit in by the fire, or just talking at the stars with. It was Lisa who really made the trip worthwhile.

You already knew the answer. You knew it as the weekend came closer and the communication dwindled. You knew it wasn’t happening but that didn’t stop the tremors in your hands, the tears that somehow escaped your notice, or the motion of bringing yet another drink to your lips to burn the sick you felt in your stomach.

It was getting really late, not that you cared if you bothered Lisa by calling her at this hour. It was getting really late just sitting at a bar and staring at your phone as if you expected her to be the one to call. She would have by now if the trip was something that was feasible. But she hadn’t spoken about it once, and she wasn’t calling about it now. You were going to have to be the one to ask about it, but you already knew the answer you would get.

Your thumb punched the call icon and you closed your eyes to prepare yourself. The phone pressed against your ear, your resolve crumbling as you waited. You were going to hang up before it was too late when Lisa finally answered.

“You’re calling about the beach trip, aren’t you?” There was nothing in her voice. Absolutely nothing.

“Too busy?” you guessed, biting your lip afterward to stifle the sob.

A sigh. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t do it. You should definitely go! I’m just too ---”

“Too busy, got it.” And you hung up. You hung up because you feared if you had to listen to her for another second, you were going to lose your mind. Even with your eyes shut, the tears still came, and you covered your face with your hands like it would make a difference.

Your heart had been broken by Lisa for a while now, but it was taped together by the hope that she would somehow make up for everything that had been happening since she stopped kissing you. Now, the tape was peeling off and the pieces of your heart were falling jaggedly into your lungs in the forms of weak sobs.

Lisa wasn’t calling back, and you vowed right there and then that you wouldn’t be calling her again. As far as you could see, you wouldn’t be in contact with her again. You had waited too long for her, but now it was your turn to leave. To leave the wreckage of what could have been great.

“Hey,” a soft voice cooed from in front of you.

You dropped your hands to see the bartender standing in front of you. A pretty girl with soft chocolate hair cascading around her face, a face that was etched with the most concern you had seen from someone you didn’t know. Her head was tilted gently as she regarded you. Really, you should have been embarrassed to be showing your face like this, tear-stricken and probably a mess. A mess from the hands of someone who played with you like a coffee cup and picked you apart to only then discard you without a second thought. Like a stranger passing you by.

“That bad?” she asked, quietly reaching forward to take away the empty glass to clean.

You could only nod. At least the sobs had stopped. You glanced around to suddenly notice that you were the last person in the bar. It was darkened considerably, closed for the night. And for some dumb reason, you were still inside.

A clinking behind the bar garnered your attention and you turned to see the bartender removing a bottle of --- surprise, surprise --- vodka from the bar’s shelves. Your ol’ friend. A pity drink was in store for a pitiful person like you.

“C’mon,” the girl commanded, taking her coat from underneath the counter and gesturing with her head. “You’re coming back to my place and we’re gonna get hella drunk. And before you can decline, I’ll have you know I’m stubborn and willing to drag you out of this bar.”

That was a surprise you hadn’t been expecting... but it was welcomed. A genuine smile came to you then, and the bartender returned it with one of her own. A wonderful, charming smile.

“What’s your name?” you had to ask as you stood and followed her towards the back.

The girl flicked off the last of the bar’s lights and opened the door out back, holding it open for you. A street light fell across her face in a soft glow.

“I’m Jennie. What’s yours?”

#blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfiction #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #SURPRISE #I FUCKING DID SOMETHING #honestly it's probably trash #but i wrote this all in one sitting so #enjoy ??????#scenarios

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theintuitivewildflower · 6 years

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Thirty Tenacious Ways to Tackle Personal Growth AND Become More Aligned With Your Purpose

The Adventures of a Wildflower: Soul Food Series

I recently developed this list of Thirty Tenacious Ways to Tackle Personal Growth AND Become More Aligned With Your Purpose ; it is lengthy because I designed it for you to save and come back and forth to; as you reach different goals. Your goals will be unique to you, of course, but this will get you started. This article is going to get right down to the gritty details of personal growth as well as how it can be beneficial. I’m sharing details about how-to shift from survival mode to thriving mode; ways to empower yourself to shift from the victim mentality over to VICTOR! My thirty self-development tips to help you align with your purpose are the “nuts and bolts” of self- development, in my opinion. They are the key areas that require mastering if one wants to seek and fulfill a calling and to able to love others in a healthy way.

Within each of these self-development steps are smaller steps of personal growth. However, when we let life happen to us or we get too comfortable going with the flow, we aren’t creating any momentum for ourselves in any direction so we don’t go anywhere; nothing ever changes.Instead of aspiring to discover who we were created to be; we can get very complacent and too comfortable in a routine that, gets us by, even provides, but doesn’t fulfill us.Everybody’s got their own unique journey here but ALL of us experience peaks and valleys along the way; highs and lows. This is designed to help you through them as you go along.

NOTE-The list is numbered and scattered throughout the article and I’m leaving it this way as a reminder for you not to get discouraged when things are hectic; when you just barely get to squeeze in time for your personal development. You can still get where you are going; do not worry about the destination so much and be present for your journey. So let’s go..........Number one.....

1. It does not matter where you start; what matters only is THAT YOU START. What matters today is that you have decided to get on your way; to heal, to know yourself and love yourself more, to seek your purpose, use your voice and live intentionally! CONGRATULATIONS, THIS IS YOUR NEW BEGINNING!!

I believe that much of the reason we have so much dysfunction in society today is due to the fact that we have, as a society, conformed to the idea that we are supposed to be “normal” and to go with the flow of what society is doing now.

Imagine a world in which everyone is the same for a moment……I’ll wait.

What did that look like to you? Wouldn’t the world would be so bland if we were all just alike? I love to liken people and diversity to wildflower patches. I prefer the world to be green and alive with pops of color everywhere. I like meeting different kinds of human beings and learning from them things I would not have known otherwise. I like hearing what makes people tick and I live for helping people seek their soul purpose. I’ve come to the despise the use of the word normal to describe people as if that is the highest level to achieve in all mankind. What’s so great and wonderful about normal and who decides that they are normal and someone else isn’t? What would happen if we all actually made time to pursue our passions and then supported each other in that; do you think humans around the world might feel a bit more connected?

2. ACCEPTANCE OF SELF AND OTHERS.

LATELY I HAVE BEEN FEELING LIKE WE NEED A NEW NORMAL AND I HAVE A SUGGESTION WHERE TO START! CHECK IT OUT!

BE YOURSELF. ACCEPT EACH OTHER’S DIFFERENCES! ENCOURAGE OTHER’S TO BE AUTHENTIC WITH YOU BY ACCEPTING THEM FOR WHO THEY ARE AND BY BEING AUTHENTICALLY YOU!

It sounds simple but we don’t do that at all. Instead we often live our lives directed by someone else and wonder why we aren’t fulfilled. It’s because at times we are playing the star in someone else’s story; trying to please others, not rock the boat too much and we are on a path someone else steered us down because they ignored the opportunity to take it when it was presented to them. I wonder how many people live life just trying not to get noticed, so afraid to have a light shine on them for fear that other people might see who they truly are.

3. SEEK YOUR PURPOSE, TAKE INVENTORY OF YOUR GIFTS, CALLINGS AND PASSIONS. I ask in conversations occasionally about what people think there purpose on earth is; I get some of the most beautiful and passionate responses. A person radiates joy and their eyes will light up when they are speaking of and thinking in alignment with their callings. Yet, society does not encourage us to be authentically ourselves. Society encourages us to be like everyone else

4. Heal what is still hurting you! Forgive yourself and make peace with anything you are having feeling of guilt or shame about; if you are beating yourself up over things in the past, the time has come to release that and move forward.

5. Self-loathing must be replaced with self-love.

6. As you reflect you can also express GRATITUDE for lessons learned and make plans to apply the lessons in your future life. Keeping a journal is a great way to be intentional about gratitude, your healing process and personal growth.

7. TOUCH BASE WITH YOUR INNER CHILD

Most of us grow up being told we can be whatever we want to be, right? If we believe it, we can achieve it. Do you remember being young and having that feeling of hope, the daydreams, the vision of who you were to become? Those quotes are true; it’s about mind over matter and actually believing the words. We see these types of themes on bulletin boards in classrooms, online and we certainly say these things to our kids at some point and most parents try to encourage their kids to perfect their gifts and talents when they see them exhibiting a talent in something. YES, WE TRULY WANT THEM TO BE AUTHENTIC. HOWEVER, IF MOM OR DAD ISN’T COMFORTABLE IN THEIR OWN SKIN OR THEY DIM THEIR LIGHT BECAUSE SOCIETY MIGHT VIEW THEM AS DIFFERENT…….

ARE WE NOT THEN CONTRADICTING OURSELVES??

IT SEEMS LIKE IT MIGHT GO SOMETHING LIKE THIS THESE DAYS……..

“…be yourself, but don’t do it in a weird way..”

“be yourself, but don’t tell anybody about it…”

8. CONSIDER WHAT LEGACY YOU REALLY WANT TO LEAVE BEHIND

Somehow, the majority of us, have become afraid to show who we really are for fear of being different; afraid of standing out or being judged. It’s not the best feeling to know that you would rather be doing something else but you won’t because your afraid; growing older and wishing you had more time or that you had started chasing your dreams sooner or at all. Do you want that to be your legacy? Do we want that to be the theme of our family and the legacy we leave to our future generations and grandchildren? TRY to be yourself but don’t let anyone know you’re doing it. It sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? That is because it is ridiculous!! I realize now, after embracing my authentic self that I was being judged even when I was doing the whole “fit in” bit; this is when we put our mask on, dim our light and hide the fact that we have a voice or opinion.

9. Figure out when you stopped daydreaming; you might find that this is when you started following someone else’s path. If you know what you are called to do but you aren’t doing anything about it; ask yourself what is preventing you from that?

10. Get in your feelings!! WHEN THEY COME, FEEL THEM, AND THEN LET THEM FLOW.....

WHAT YOU RESIST, PERSISTS. -C.G. JUNG

In our society, most boys are raised to be tough, not cry, hold in emotion so as not to let anyone see that they have any? In our society in many families, boys are conditioned to be insensitive. Years later, communication issues arise. Little girls are usually sensitive but not ever taught to express emotion into words, in a calm or rational way. These young girls grow up into women who are emotionally immature and unable to communicate in a healthy way in relationships. Add technology and the mobile phone, does anyone talk anymore??

Individually, we may yearn to be understood but we often fail to consider that people can only perceive us from their level of perception and what we present to the world; then we wonder why people don’t understand us. This is just another reason to be authentic, be true to yourself. Feelings are just that, emotions that you feel; emotions cause a stirring of the soul. We humans do all sorts of things to avoid them too, don’t we? We can numb them, we can hide them, we can lie about them, we can deny them but they are still there and you still will feel them again.

11. Mindful is what you must be about your feelings. Pay attention to when you have reactions to certain things. Are you reacting to the current situation or something else you haven’t addressed. Are you taking something out on someone else? This is about learning yourself lovely! Knowing what makes you tick and why? There will be times that you have to face that fact that you are what you are reacting to and maybe you’ve been getting in your own way. Do not beat yourself up about this! Why do we do that? Instead, express gratitude for your growth. For your new practice of mindfulness and further healing!

12. Be your authentic self

IF WE AREN’T KEEPING IT REAL WITH OURSELVES THEN WE ARE NOT PRESENTING OUR AUTHENTIC SELF TO ANYONE ELSE! WE HAVE TO LOSE THE MINDSET THAT WE ARE THE ONLY ODD DUCK. WE ARE ACTUALLY ALL THE ODD DUCK, PRETENDING TO BE A “NORMAL” DUCK. THERE IS NO NORMAL DUCK!!

WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYONE NOT FIND THAT COOL AS HELL?

13. KNOW THYSELF- There are many personality tests online, I recommend the free Meyers-Briggs personality test. We humans, have the most ability, power, gifts, talent and skill to make the most and best of ourselves and where we live while we’re here.

Most just don’t……Why? Not everyone is doing it or it isn’t considered normal? However, it happens all the time; society follows patterns, beliefs and ideas we’ve been conditioned to. In turn, we have created more dysfunction in society and sometimes it goes deep into homes and family life. I write about things like this because I have experienced first hand the dis-ease of living a life not being authentic; I was not being my true self. I write about this because it is now being shown through research that dis-ease in the mind is often directly related to disease in the body; everything is connected.

14. EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED

One of the things I like to think and write about in my blog is the relationship between science and spirituality. I like to be able to see that everything is connected because I believe everything truly is connected, made up of the same matter yet uniquely created and with individual characteristics and traits.

When I see proof of this connection between science and spirituality in real life it seems to rekindle the flame in me to be myself and to be authentic and comfortable in my own skin. I get excited about it because it proves or confirms to me that there is something bigger than me, than us. With all that is amazing and unique in the universe that we express gratitude for and study; we do not do that, in society with people. We still see people as either/or, black or white and we don’t pay any attention to the shades in between.

15.BE FIERCE AND FEARLESS

If you look deeper into society and who has created change, made progress, improved society and advocated for humanity; it is authentic people and none of them were just like any other one but they were and are FIERCE AND FEARLESS about their calling!

Not afraid to speak their own truth, unafraid of judgment by society and you can find them perfectly content while standing out from the crowd; the fierce and fearless. They are the change-makers, the pace-setters and the people that influence others to make progress and create change too. Why then, as a society, are we not paying more attention to the acceptance. encouragement and empowerment of others? Why do we not encourage our children to discover and learn themselves, find their gifts and talents and then seek and fulfill a purpose? Why have we accepted or conformed to the idea that we are here only to contribute to society by working and paying bills?

16. Align with your purpose. What we long for is usually related to a calling and our unique gifts are usually perfectly aligned and help us fulfill our calling, our purpose.

You see people in society that are not aligned with their purpose daily! I know you do, they are everywhere. Let me give you an example or two. Have you every dealt with a customer service rep , who after speaking with , you hang up the phone and wonder why in the world they are working in customer service when they are clearly not meant to be doing it. We’ve all been there, the person in the wrong business or career. It wasn’t aligned with our calling; it didn’t feel good to do it. Of course, most of us don’t think that way do we? It’s considered to normal to work at a job we hate, to pay for things we can’t afford, to impress people we often, don’t even really like. Normal can kick rocks in my opinion! #byefelicia When people get aligned with their purpose and who they are at their core, JOY is present! In my opinion, JOY beats NORMAL all day every day!

17. LIVING INTENTIONALLY

I believe, the number one way begin fulfilling your purpose once you determine what your calling is, is to begin living intentionally. Everything we have done and all the things that have happened; started somewhere with someone as an intention; a clear concise thought about something happening.

We have all been “stuck in a rut.” If you have experienced an awakening you may know it by the term “dark night of the soul”; those times when you feel most alone and distraught, in a valley. However, when we stop climbing out of the valleys, we don’t move forward; we can get real comfortable in that place if we aren’t living with intention about where we are going.

It requires a real conscious effort to practice living intentionally but if you can grasp this one basic concept and create a habit of it, you can change your life! You will honestly amaze yourself with what you can do, how much you can actually accomplish in a day when it is set up with intention.

18. Follow your intuition. Intuition, or our “gut feelings” try to steer us in the right direction, WHEN WE LISTEN. That’s our soul talking, our inner voice, our actual connection to source energy; it’s God.

When we listen to our intuition it allows us the chance to set intentions for the outcome we want to occur; it allows for the creation of momentum of thought. God, or source, is saying “ come now, get aligned with your calling, it’s this way.” You now have created a ripple effect of momentum in the right direction. You are also now working WITH UNIVERSE ( OR SOURCE ENERGY) NOT AGAINST IT.

Intention creates momentum…

Momentum creates Progress…

Progress creates Results…

Results bring CHANGE!

Everything is connected, your thoughts will create a ripple either way. Intention can create the kind of ripple effect you WANT. As always lovelies, you must look within; consult with your soul and listen to it…..This is where your calling awaits and THIS, IS WHAT FULFILLMENT FEELS LIKE! CLAIM IT and KEEP CREATING INTENTION.

Q: How do you know you are aligned with your purpose?

A:You’ll know because you WILL have struggles working to fulfill your purpose; IF YOU ARE ALIGNED THEN YOU WILL STILL FEEL JOY WHILE YOU STRUGGLE! -Jack Canfield Author: Chicken Soup for the Soul

19. YOUR LONGING IS YOUR CALLING!! It’s often that thing we hide away because “NO ONE DOES THAT.“ We have got to get away from that mindset that our purpose and gifts are going to look identical to everyone else’s!! Instead, we need to embrace those skills and continue seeking our purpose no matter who thinks it is normal or who thinks it is crazy! It doesn’t matter what they think because they have their own calling to pursue, your calling is going to be NORMAL for you; it’s just going to fit, click and align with your authentic self.

I knew I wasn’t aligned with my soul purpose 6 years in, with a great corporate management position, a great benefits package to match plus a lot of perks.The job was perfect after my divorce. It did pay the bills, allowed me to get on my feet again and I was actually really good at it. However, the stress level and hours required were high and many. So much so that the dis-ease I felt started to manifest in physical symptoms; headaches, hair loss and anxiety, for starters. However, I felt like I was in a revolving door I couldn’t step out of most days; other days it was a hamster wheel I feared I would never escape.This was considered “normal” apparently; I looked and asked around and everyone I knew was in the same boat. I thought “this is it…this is what we do here? We live to work and pay bills and still struggle?? We make people we may not ever know money?? Then, if the stress and anxiety is to much; we just go pop a pill to numb ourselves from the dis-ease?? Everyone I knew answered these questions with a similar tone…..” it sucks but that’s life…“

That didn’t sit well with me and my mind was constantly pulled to thoughts about there being more to life, more to me and more for me to do.These thoughts, I now know, were powerful intentions of change for me. Little did I know that soon they would snowball into major life and career changes for me.

20. Awaken to Your Purpose

I’ve read that people often experience a spiritual awakening during trials, tribulations or following a loss or trauma. I had experienced a suicide in the family and a divorce; I had been working 2 jobs to pay the bills and going to school at night. Following that, I found myself in a toxic relationship and living with the feeling that I had sold my soul for some health insurance and a 401k. This truly had me feeling like a failure and a sell out.

There was always this longing in me; this voice telling me to keep seeking my purpose. The faith my mother raised me in helped me to continue hoping that there was going to be beauty in my struggle some where; I did my best to count it all joy. I was 39 at this time; when God and universe began to shake me awake and prompted me to get my life back; to get back to myself and heal what was causing me to suffer.

21. Be and see the beauty in your struggle. Your purpose is most likely going to be born from your pain!

First, all my negative self-talk and bitterness had to end. I started being conscious about my thoughts and instead of professing that I was isolated and trapped and began claiming that I would soon be away from the toxicity and free! Next, I knew the toxic relationship had to end once and for all. I blocked and deleted numbers, social media accounts and went NO CONTACT! This turned out to be the best decision I have ever made; going no contact showed me the difference between life in a toxic relationship and a life in which I could live, breathe and not be isolated! I was so happy with the latter, my choice! I wasn’t even fully healed from the divorce prior to that relationship and so my healing process took a long while. In fact, it still continues. It takes a conscious effort almost daily not to slip back into victim mentality.

22. Ditch the victim mentality

What helped me to empower myself to ditch the victim mentality and aspire to become a victor over my pain was that inner knowing within me that there was a purpose for all of it. I knew I was never meant to merely survive but to rather thrive; and that is what I set out to do. I started by loving myself first and committing to that for at least one year; no relationship! I knew I couldn’t love anyone properly if I didn’t first love myself and I HAD to get back to that person; the me that had confidence, self-love and belief, empathy for others; I had to find that girl that had the big heart again. I had to get back to myself!

If you are stuck in victim mentality you most likely have already started making excuses for yourself regarding what I have written thus far; you started listing reasons and explaining to yourself the many reasons why you can’t do this. You might even be telling yourself that you can’t be a warrior! Well, I am here to call your bluff because if I can then you can for sure!!! In addition, I am here to encourage you so come on, let’s take a look at what the victim mindset looks like compared to the victor or the warrior mindset. Then, you can truly decide which is best for YOU!

23. Celebrate your personal growth successes!

If you are purpose-driven, it is crucial that you pay attention to your unique gifts and talents and celebrate your personal growth successes. For me, it was worth it to face myself, my past, what caused my suffering and even to reopen some old wounds so they could properly heal. It was worth it to not have pain from my past buried below the surface; always lurking there to mess up my next relationship or friendship. It was worth it to get back to myself and to feel connected again with what I’ve always known was my calling; to help others, to empower others and to encourage others to find and fulfill their purpose!!

24. Weave your calling into your life. Make room for your personal mission and purpose! Incorporate your purpose into your daily method of operation!

Here are a few questions to ask yourself as you begin your own personal journey to your purpose and calling! It might help you narrow down how you can provide this as a service in love! Can you imagine actually getting to do what you love, every day? I believe if we get intentional about being aligned with our purpose; the money, the resources, the team and the way will get aligned with us as well. Here are some questions you can ask to help discover what your soul purpose might be.

What is it that you find yourself longing for?

What do you feel like you are really gifted or talented in?

What do you find yourself daydreaming about?

When you were bored as a child what did you occupy your time with??

Amazon’s website also has some stellar books and audios to choose from to assist you in your self-development, personal growth process and awakening to purpose. Here is a link to a few of my favorite selections for personal growth tips. https://amzn.to/2pINWXy

Recently, I had a night in which I felt led to open my Bible to Proverbs. There were many verses related to this topic that jumped out at me but this one; Proverbs 10:11 really resonated with my heart so I’m declaring it my number 25 here.

25. “HOPE DEFERRED MAKES THE HEART SICK, BUT A LONGING FULFILLED IS A TREE OF LIFE.” -Proverbs 10:11

That dis-ease that had started in my mind was hope deferred and it was making my heart sad and bitter; my purpose being “put off” or ignored was allowing the dis-ease and discomfort that started in thought to start manifesting as physical signs of dis-ease; in the body. I no longer have these symptoms of stress, hair. loss or anxiety. It will be a year ago this April 11th that I resigned from the corporate career and decided to do what I had to do to pay bills while I pursued my purpose! I didn’t need a prescription, I didn’t need a better corporate position with better benefits or more perks, I didn’t need more money! What I needed was what I did; ditch the toxic relationship, ditch the fake friends, ditch the victim mentality and move in the direction of what I was made for.

26. Be Tenacious about your Purpose

tenacity- noun

the quality of being able to grip something

THE QUALITY OF BEING VERY DETERMINED

persistence, perseverance, tirelessness, resolution, STRENGTH OF PURPOSE

What I needed was to get aligned with my calling and become tenacious about fulfilling my purpose! I have never been happier or more fulfilled; I”m still struggling in a few areas of my life from learning the hard way about helping the wrong people; the take take taker’s, I call them. However, I feel fulfilled. I feel inner peace. I want this for you too lovelies! How can I help you get aligned with your calling today?

27. VIBRATE HIGHER - LEARN TO CREATE A SHIFT IN ENERGY

I talk a lot about good vibes and vibrating higher; I talk about protecting your energy and how to get a shift in focus and energy when you have a down or off day or when someone has attempted to “kill your vibe.” Once you begin to do this personal growth work, investing in yourself and being intentional about becoming the victor not a victim; you will find yourself becoming fierce and tenacious about YOU; who you are, what you want and need, where you are going and you will become very choosy about who you invest your time in!! Often times, after making these practices habit, you’ll find that you enjoy your own company better that many others simply because you have evolved! Congratulations, you leveled up; more aligned with your authentic self and your purpose!! Celebrate that and then, wake up tomorrow and DO IT AGAIN. Amazon has a great selection of books to help with this. If you missed my recommended book list last week you can find it via this affiliate link at amazon’s website. https://amzn.to/2pINWXy

As always, I can’t go one post without mentioning the ONE thing that never fails me when I need a shift in energy or when I find myself thinking with a victim mindset again; it happens…..you don’t need to dwell on it but you do need to change it as quick as possible! Music, for me, is the best way to get an energy shift quick! I have taken the time to make a suggestion of tracks that create good vibes, the lyrics are positive and the beats are gonna get you feeling up when you are down, If you think you could benefit from that too check out this link I made to take you to my special playlists at amazon!! https://amzn.to/2pINWXy

28. DON’T COMPARE YOUR JOURNEY WITH ANYONE ELSE!

It is way to easy and ��much more common these days, to become complacent with life. Our regular routines SEEM to work because we function and survive in them. In comparison to everyone else, we consider ourselves normal because we function, in and with, the rest of society; we work, we sleep, we eat, we pay bills. We shouldn’t be comparing our lives to other people or measuring success by comparing careers, social status or assets acquired. When we compare ourselves to other people, we will never measure up. The reason for this is that, ONLY OUR CALLING IS GOING TO FEEL NORMAL TO US!

29. KEEP ON KEEPIN’ ON!

If we never seek and find what it is, that longing, the feeling that something is missing, will remain. Sometimes we have to do some healing and self-development within ourselves before we can take on what our calling is going to require of us; the important thing to remember is this; once you decide to jump off the hamster wheel and seek your soul purpose; don’t stop. There are going to be days that the hamster wheel looks like a vacation compared to personal growth but you just have to keep on moving forward in your own growth; one healing, empowering step at a time. As you begin, you might not know where to start and that is okay, I got you!

30. LIVE, LOVE, LEARN, LAUGH, REPEAT!

Everything is connected, your thoughts will create a ripple either way. Intention can create the kind of ripple effect you WANT.

As always lovelies, you must look within; consult with your soul and listen to it…..This is where your calling awaits and

THIS, IS WHAT FULFILLMENT FEELS LIKE! CLAIM IT and KEEP CREATING INTENTION.

ONE LOVE,

KARYN DEE #THEINTUITUVEWILDFLOWER

www/pinterest.com/theintuitivewildflower

Q: How do you know you are aligned with your purpose?

A:You’ll know because you WILL have struggles working to fulfill your purpose; IF YOU ARE ALIGNED THEN YOU WILL STILL FEEL JOY WHILE YOU STRUGGLE!

-Jack Canfield Author of Chicken Soup for the Soul

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