#and of course tomorrow all the cooking so not getting a breather either

[bending-sickle]

two and a half hours ago i went to get a cup of tea to accompany Little Activity. i have not been allowed to return (nor participate in a conversation nor have dinner nor indeed have my tea) until now

[travellingarmy]

║Chongyun║Ghost

Requested from Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Word count: 2.6k

---

"Hey, Chongyun, do like doing whatever you're doing?" you ask, balancing the flat side of a pencil on your upper lip. He tears his eyes away from a book he was invested in, focusing his attention to you

"Exorcism, I mean."

"Of course," he plainly answers without hesitation, a bit confused as to why you suddenly brought it up. You look at him skeptically from the side of your eyes before placing the pencil down on the table. "Are you sure you aren't saying that because your family is consisted of exorcist?" you say, "I mean, if my line of family were full of exorcist, I might feel a bit burdened and pressured.. Feeling as if I have no other choice but to carry out the family name.."

He takes your thoughts into consideration, agreeing that it does sound reasonable. "I understand what you are saying, but believe me, being an exorcist is what I love doing," he reassures, and you, not wanting to push the topic further, let it go at that, enjoying another comfortable silence under the setting sun the shone through the windows of the living room.

Chongyun has been visiting you frequently for the past week that him being there wasn't a bother to you now. Well, it didn't bother you at all, it was just that your heart couldn't handle itself whenever he was around; you shyly admit that you have a small crush on the exorcist.

"Oh, right, I--" Just as you were speaking, the front door burst open, causing you and Chongyun to be startled and look over the sofa, seeing another bluenette stepping inside. "Xingqiu, you can't just barge into someone's house like that!" you shout, fuming with a slight anger. "And you'll break the door!"

Xingqiu stood there, looking a bit clueless as if he totally forgot why he came to your house. "Hey, Xingqiu, what are you doing here?" Chongyun ask, setting down the book to the space beside him and stood up, facing the other male. "Chongyun, so you're here again, huh?" Xingqiu asks, not even bothering to greet either the two of you. His eyes started to wander around the place, looking quite worried and something else that you couldn't quite place your fingers on.

"Not going to greet us politely, huh?" you commented with a bored expression. Chongyun stares at you then back to Xingqiu. "Hey, wanna take this outside?" he asks, snapping Xingqui out from his daze. "Oh, right, is.." Xingqiu trails, not wanting to say anything further, eyes hiding something deep within their colours that was covered with great anxiousness.

Chongyun nods silently. "Yeah, it's okay," he says and then turns to you. "Ill be right back, (Y/N)." You nodded quietly, a bit concerned for the bookworm as he looks your way, yet not say anything. He looked out of it and you planned to ask Chongyun once he comes back.

The two males went outside, closing the door behind as they leave. You strain your ears to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the door muffled out clear words, so you gave up, slouching into the seat.

It took no more than 10 minutes for them to chat outside before Xingqiu leaves the premises and Chongyun returning back inside. However, Xingqiu looked somewhat panicked with eyes filled of worry and the other element that you couldn't quite pinpoint. "What were you guys talking about? Xingqiu looked a bit off," you say, eyes following the bluenette back to his spot beside you.

"It's nothing.. Xingqiu has just been having nightmares, is all," he hesitantly says, eyes not looking your way as he utters so. You were quite surprised. Xingqiu? Having nightmares? That was truly new and quite something to tease him about-- but that was something you won't do, since it was something concerning if he looked the way he did.

"Oh, it's getting late," Chongyun comments, looking out the window behind you. "Should I cook you something to eat before I leave?" You shook your head, "The snacks from earlier kind of spoiled my appetite for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

He nods and bid you a good night before exiting your house.

You stayed in the living room for a while then cleaned up any mess and locked the front door before going to your room and changing into your sleepwear.

Letting out a tired sigh, you sunk under the warmth of your comforters, burying your face into one of the pillows. No matter how tired you may be, your thoughts did it's usual thing- wandering around aimlessly and thinking whatever it wants to, which brought you to Chongyun.

It was something you think about each night and it never fails to make your heart squeal. You had been picking up unusual behaviours from him throughout the week such as accompanying you everywhere-- be it to your kitchen or outside the streets of Liyue. It kind of made you more confident about confessing to him.

Someday, you'll confess, you thought to yourself and drifted off to sleep, dreaming a happy dream of the potential future if he does happen to reciprocate your feelings.

When the sun shone through your curtains, Chongyun was already at your door, waiting for you to open the door. "Good morning, did you already have breakfast?" Chongyun greets. "Not yet," you answered and move out of the way to let him in.

"I'll go make something for you right now," Chongyun says, giving you one look before heading to the kitchen where you watch him make breakfast for the both of you. It was unnatural at first, but with the amount of persistence, you allowed Chongyun to make breakfast for you each day.

"Thank you for the meal," you say and took your chopsticks, taking a bite before complimenting his skills.

It was a quiet morning, both of you enjoying breakfast. Then, "Say, (Y/N), is there something you want to do before you die?" Chongyun suddenly asks. You look away from your bowl and look at him curiously, though his gaze was on his bowl. "That's out of the blue.." you comment, chuckling a bit.

He places his chopsticks down and closed his eyes, sighing. "Well, is there?" He looks up at you, revealing his cat-like eyes. At that, you knew he wasn't going to let you change topics, not that you have anything else to talk about, and that it was something that most people suddenly brings up suddenly. "Hm.. I don't think so. I mean, I'm really happy with my life right now and being by yours and Xingqiu's side," you say, taking the topic with much thought.

"You're lying," he affirms, catching you with surprised eyes. "What do you mean?" you ask, quite confused at how strongly he believes his words. "There is not one person who doesn't have at least one thing that they want to have or want to do before they die," he expresses.

You weren't sure why he was taking the topic so seriously. He asked you this multiple times before and back then, he just hums in response. But since he pushed the topic on, you have no other choice but to think it thoroughly.

You thought about things that you used to want to do, but they were sooner or later fulfilled. Then, your reoccurring fantasy popped into your head as stealthily as it could: Chongyun reciprocating your feelings. You guessed that it was the only thing left to do in this world-- maybe going on adventures with him as a couple.

Knowing this, your face flushes red-- the same colour when Chongyun accidentally ate something spicy to make him hot. "Hm? (Y/N)?" Chongyun stares at you quizically. "Well, did you figure it out?"

"Oh, ah, uhm.. I-- It's nothing!" you stutter, averting your eyes from him and chuckling awkwardly. Did he possibly know and that's why he was asking? You didn't know. "Can you tell--" You caught him off. "Ah, why are you being so pushy today, hm? Do you want me to say something specific?" you ask. Seeing your sudden burst, Chongyun decided to leave it at that, returning the atmosphere to the comfortable silence to help you relax and forget about what he asked.

"Hey, Chongyun, you haven't been doing any exorcism at all these past few days-- what's up with that?" you brought up, now located in the living room where both of you spend most of the day away doing whatever pops inside your head. "Ah, I just have much free time, is all," he answers, sounding as if he predicted you'd question him about it sooner or later.

"Really? Well, I heard that there was a ghost that's been haunting an old lady's place and many other series of hauntings.." Upon hearing your own words, you gasped. "Wait, could Xingqui's nightmare be linked to this?" You turn your upper body to face the male.

"Oh, uh, I guess..?" Chongyun says and shrugs, not knowing what else to say. You crossed your arms, mentally patting yourself. It was silence after that, doing your own thing as Chongyun does his.

"Hey, you wanna go somewhere?" Chongyun asks, getting your attention. "Sure? Where do you want to go?" You look at him, eyes following up as he stands up. "You'll find out," is all he said and you had no other choice but to follow.

Out on the streets, you both bumped into Xingqui, who looked quite sleep deprived, looking down at the grown below him. "Hey, have you been crying?" was the first thing you say, seeing redness around his eyes. You went to put a hand on his arm, but he flinched when you did so.

He looks up. "Oh, hey.." he greets tiredly. "Xingqiu, are you okay?" Chongyun ask, visibly concerned for his best friend.

Xingqiu was quiet for a while, looking hesitant to speak. "Chongyun, when will you finally do it? I can't stand this any longer and knowing that you're always going there is driving me insane!" He harshly grabs Chongyun shoulders.

"Calm down, Xingqiu." You put a hand on his shoulders, feeling him stiffen for a quick second before letting go of Chongyun. Xingqiu did not act the way he used to be and it worried both you and Chongyun.

The hydro male took a breather, both of you allowing him to do so. Then, "When will you let go?" he whispers, his tone breaking.

Your heart tightened. You did not know what was happening with Xingqiu, but it hurt you seeing him looking like a mess. He wasn't his usual self.

You looked over to the icy male, eyes filled with worried. He looks at you, eyes also filled with the same emotion, yet hiding something else within it.

Sighing, Chongyun spoke, "Come with me, Xingqiu, and you too, (Y/N)." You nodded, and followed, looking over to Xingqiu every now and then whose head was down, hiding the emotions swirling in his eyes.

Soon, the three of you returned to your house. You were confused, but didn't say anything and letting Chongyun speak. "(Y/N), you like me, don't you?" Chongyun suddenly ask, back facing you as his front faces your house.

The air in you felt as if it was punched out. "How did you.." You couldn't finish it. How did he figure it out? Did Xingqiu tell him? You did tell Xingqiu your feelings for the exorcist, but to think he betrayed you? You turn to the traitor. "Xingqiu--" You were cut off. "It's useless, (Y/N).." Chongyun gave a heavy sigh.

"He can't hear you."

You were confused. What did he mean? "(Y/N), I am going to guess the one thing you want before you die.." Chongyun says. "You like me and want to confess your feelings, right? It'll feel much heavy if you don't." He didn't directly answer your question, but he was getting there.

"Yesterday, Xingqiu told me about it and I guess that is the one thing you want to do or else you can't rest."

"(Y/N), do you know why I kept visiting you?" Chongyun asks. You, however, couldn't give a reply, too confused to see where he was getting at. "I was trying to exorcise you."

"What do you mean by that, Chongyun? I don't understand," you say. First, Xingqiu can't hear you and second, he is trying to exercise you? It was confusing and it would be understandable.. For other restless spirits.

Chongyun turns his body to face you, however, his head was the same a Xingqiu's; head facing down. "(Y/N), you're dead."

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach upon hearing it. It sounded absolutely absurd and you didn't believe it.

Quickly, you turn to Xingqiu and grabbed him by his shoulders, tears threatening to fall. However, when you made contact with him, he flinches. "Hey, Xingqiu, don't play with me right now!" you raise your voice that would be loud to annoy him to break this little prank, but he just stares at you-- or rather, looking your way with a sadded expression but not really at you.

".. Hey, Chongyun, they're in front of me, aren't they?" Xingqiu ask, cracking a sad smile as tears start to trickle his face. Chongyun nods silently.

Knowing this, Xingqiu continues. "(Y/N), I can't hear you or see you.. But let me apologise.. I'm sorry.. It's my fault that you.. Died," he says. "If we hadn't gone to that cliff after it rained, I would still be able to talk with you."

It took a while to understand and recall what he was saying, but the locked memory- the last puzzle to understanding everything- returned to you. That day, you had slipped and fallen, and because at how sudden it was, you panicked and was unable to spread your glider, leading to your death.

Xingqiu has been recuperating from the horror and guilt, having nightmares of the scene he had witnessed that day.

Chongyun was the one to find your spirit bounded to your house and the streets of Liyue being an exorcist and all, so he took it upon himself to make sure you rest in peace. However, since you weren't aware you were dead, it made it difficult for him to make that happen. So, he hung around you, sneakily exercising you when you two hung out in your house.

Tears fall down on the side of your face, now having memory of it, and turned to Chongyun who looked at you with sadness.

Sadness. That was the one emotion you couldn't figure out.

"I.. I'm really sorry, (Y/N)," Chongyun spoke softly, looking at you. "I don't want you to go, but as an exorcist.. And to relieve Xingqui's nightmares.. I, I have no other choice."

"But before you go, I want you to know that I've always liked you.. I was.. Hoping to tell you how I felt, but I guess I can't now," voice breaking as he confesses.

"No.. I, I don't want to go!" you shout and clung onto his shoulders. "I'm not going, I'm not going!" More tears fell faster than it did before as you pleaded to stay.

He places his hands on your shoulders, tears of his own trickling down his face. "Please, wait for me in the next life," he says.

The reason why Chongyun excels than that of other exorcist was because of his energy, and that was something you knew. And so, a stubborn and tireless spirit such as yourself was nothing for him once he got you to awaken and face what was to be your eternal rest.

"Sweet dreams."

---

[unmanageable-day]

Come to me

previous chapter. 1 - 2 - 2.5

PART 3 - next

Summary. After what happened in a relationship in the past, you found  it difficult to trust someone with the gentleman image. 'Gentleman' seems like merely a concept and it was probably impossible  for someone to be a genuine one. Now that you're stuck with the number one gentleman at campus for a  group project, how would you cope with the one and only Joshua Hong?

Genre. College!au, non-idol!au / friends to lover

Pairing. Joshua x y/n x a little bit of S.Coups, and a sprinkle of Wonwoo

a/n: text au/social media au parts coming soon!

The biggest wish you had during work group in Joshua's house was to leave as early as possible. You ignored your stomach growling since it was already dinner time. But the house owner insisted you to stay since he already prepared meal for two. Never had you been in such a dilemma when you were hungry, the smell of his cooking was quite appetizing, and at the same time you just wanted to go home. And at this random time, Johnny always popped up, now in a form of phone call which you picked up without bothering to walk away from Joshua's sight.

"Girly, did you forget I invited you to the party at Nakamoto's?" "Oh, shit, I totally forgot." You checked the clock. "Sorry, John, I lost track of time." "What exactly are you doing? Studying?" "Uh.." You stole a glance at Joshua, hoping that Johnny’s voice on the phone was not that loud. "You definitely are." "Uh.. yeah.." A teenie tiny interruption from Joshua sneezing and a loud 'bless you' he said to himself were something you never knew you would be immediately clowned at by sincerely yours, John Suh. "Wait. Where are you? Did I just hear Josh—" "No, you didn't." "Yes, I absolutely did. You're studying with the Hong dude!" "I'm not!" "Yes, you are. Babe, he's at your place? Wait, no, you wouldn't do that. You're at his place?" ‘Why does this guy always get to guess anything right? Ugh why am I friends with him?’ you screamed internally. "You still in his house right now?" "That's because we're not finished yet." "Well, good luck and happy studying, I guess?" "Just hang up, Suh." "Yeah, sure. Better not make Hong dude feel neglected." "Johnny, I swear to God, stop." "Have fun. Take a breather because it's weekend. And don't forget to use protection." "I will murder you one day." "Love you too."

What a funny lie. You and Joshua had completed the presentation and ended it with a thank you page since 20 minutes ago. Now he basically just kept talking about finding more references when you thought it was not mandatory. You just had to convince him that what you both had done was more than enough.

"Is it Johnny?"

"Yeah."

Joshua nodded his head, somewhat understandingly. "There's nothing much left, I guess?"

"Yeah." Now going home early really sounded great, but how do you tell that politely to the house owner? But, isn't it normal to go home once you finish everything? Like, saying 'hey it's past 7 PM, you and I definitely deserve a good nap so I'll get going now, see you tomorrow' sounds pretty casual, right?

"Do you want to hang out for a while?" he asked even before you finished your thoughts.

You shrugged in confusion.

"Look, we've been hanging out but all we do is studying and getting this project done. So why not trying to do something else, like normal friends would? I mean, you know my friends, and you're pretty close with them. Isn't it weird that I'm the only one who is like a stranger?" He tried to read your face, which was still looking puzzled. "That's if you think of me as your friend. Because, I do.. and I want to get to know you more.." He sounded unsure as his voice faded away.

"Oh, yeah.. yeah, yeah, of course," you blabbered without thinking. You were so going to be the weird one if you blurted out that you saw him only as a project partner. The future of having awkward relationship between him and the other guys seemed crystal clear if you rejected him befriending you.

He smiled, feeling relieved. "Do you like watching movies?"

"Yeah, sure." At this point you had no idea how many yeahs you have said.

"Do you want to pick a movie?"

"Anything would be fine."

"Okay. I hope you're fine with horror movies."

You smiled, wondering if you looked panic when he said horror movies. You were so bad at horror movies. Mingyu was one of your victims as he became your personal punching bag whenever the jumpscares were about to pop out. Johnny also hated you for screaming hysterically on every jumpscare scene. Now, should you fake something and just run away to go home, or ask him nicely to pick another movie?

Joshua started setting up a folded mattress, some pillows and a blanket on the floor. His act just distracted you from your escaping plan. You stared at him, question marks were running around in your head, internally rambling 'what's with the mattress and why not sit on the couch?'.

"Oh, this is what I usually do when watching movies, either alone or with the guys," he said, as if he could read your mind. "Come sit here. I promise it's super comfy."

You were practically hypnotized by his sweet voice. All thoughts of running away or asking him to change the movie just magically disappeared as you slowly adjusted your position on the mattress. Joshua naturally shifted to sit closer next to you. To share popcorn, in his defense.

You had been telling yourself to be brave once the opening started. But somehow you just kept shrinking while hugging a pillow throughout the first 10 minutes. Joshua noticed how tense you looked now that your head was on the level of his shoulder, even lower, and the back of your head resting against the folded foot rest of the sofa. You were almost completely lying down with your knees bent to partially cover your sight towards the TV screen.

He chuckled quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I am perfectly fine," you quickly answered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm comfortable." You hugged the pillow tighter, slightly burying half of your face against it. And finally that moment that you'd been expecting came. Yes, the jumpscares. Followed with one of the biggest reaction Joshua had ever seen, after Seokmin and Mingyu, which made him laugh although he had to be your next punching bag. You practically shoved yourself towards him, quite with force he would say, and ended up hiding behind his shoulder. At this point it didn't matter anymore that Joshua Hong was not more than a project partner and you wouldn't even talk to him outside the project activities. You just desperately needed something to hold on. And to hit while screaming.

Joshua's masculine yet sweet scent sometimes distracted you. The way he laughed at you also started to get in your head. But you can't really focus on that because horror movies always got the best of you. Even you unconsciously wouldn't let go of his arm. Your sanity was split as you cursed yourself for being weak.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, still chuckling. To your surprise, his hand reached yours and gripped your fingers, still resting on his other arm. You immediately pulled away once you got your yourself together, realizing how physically close you were.

"Yeah. I may not look like it but I do like horror movies." Okay. You didn't know why you just talked gibberish. But then your act showed otherwise because you just almost jumped before finally going back to your hiding spot: behind his broad shoulder. He giggled again.

You could feel Joshua adjusting his sitting position with you on his backside. His head was slightly leaning towards yours, effectively making your heart flutter due to the sudden escalation of physical interaction. Eventually he tilted, making contact to your head for a few seconds before he turned to look at you.

"Should I just turn it off or change..." He half whispered while his eyes were searching yours. His eyes moved quickly from your eyes, to your lips, then back to your eyes again. You were sharp to catch his movement when he started leaning in and slowly decreasing the distance between your face.

Your loud ringtone just saved the day so you could release yourself from the awkward scene with him. Scooting a bit away from Joshua, you loudly picked up the phone. "Oh, Mingyu sunbaenim. With Soonyoung and Wonwoo? Okay, sure.."

Joshua silently kept his eyes fixated on you. He rubbed the back of his neck while waiting for you to finish the call.

"Is that Mingyu?" He began speaking to break the silence when you were occupied to your phone after hanging up.

"Yeah." You pretended to look at the time on the clock and be surprised. "It's getting late. I think I should go home."

"Y/n, I'm sorry about earlier.. I wasn't think-"

"What about earlier?" you quickly interrupted. Talking about what just happened during the movie was the last thing you wanted to do. You simply didn't want everything to be even more awkward than it already was.

Joshua opened his mouth, and quickly shut it. "Nothing. It was nothing.." He tried not to look flustered. "I'll take you home?"

"No, no need to. I can catch the bus."

"Okay then. Anyway, it's fun today. Do you think.. we can do this again.. next time?"

"Yeah, sure." You faked an excited tone. "I'll tell Soonyoung and the others, I think they can manage to arrange it."

Joshua almost choked himself, slightly gasping in disbelief. "That... would be great."

[maybankiara]

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera

summary: With Midsummers having come and gone, Kiara thinks the only consequences will be their friends teasing them for a little bit, and telling her parents they called it off slips her mind. Nobody expects the Carreras to decide they want to see JJ again, and when they do, it’s pretend all over again.

word count: 6k

almost pretend masterlist | tag list

read on ao3

previous chapter

‘So, did you guys mack on each other?’

  John B’s arm is slung over Sarah’s shoulder as they are both draped over one of the hammocks in Chateau’s backyard. He’s grinning at the trio in the hammock opposite of theirs, mostly at Kiara and JJ. 

  ‘Please,’ scoffs Kiara. ‘As if I’d ever.’

  ‘Ouch, Kie.’ Next to her, JJ puts a hand on his chest, pouting. ‘I think I heard my heart crack.’

  ‘Pope will fix it for you.’

  ‘Nu-uh, I’m nobody’s mechanic.’

  ‘Not even for me?’

  Pope makes a throwing-away motion with his hand, shaking his head at JJ. ‘Not even for you.’

  ‘Ouch! You guys are mean.’ JJ sighs. He pats Kiara and Pope’s thighs as he pushes himself off the hammock, accompanied with grunts from the two. ‘I’m getting beer. Anyone want some?’

  They all say they do, which makes him groan at himself for trying to be nice to them, but goes to get it for them anyway. It feels as if the atmosphere has shifted ever so slightly, with all three remaining people having their eyes trained on Kiara now. 

  ‘What?’

  ‘So you really didn’t kiss?’ asks Sarah.

  ‘No! We didn’t!’ Kiara sighs and lets herself be swallowed by the hammock, taking up the space JJ left empty. Her head is touching Pope’s lap and he’s looking at her as if he’s waiting for her to say something else. ‘Why are you guys being so insistent on that?’

  Pope cocks his head to the side, exchanging a quick glance with the other two before looking back at her. ‘I don’t know. We just thought something could’ve happened.’

  She feels her chest stiffen. ‘Did you guys make bets?’

  ‘No,’ says Pope, but he’s an awful liar. ‘No, we didn’t.’

  Kiara decides to let it slide.

  ‘You guys are making me feel uncomfortable. It was just one night and it’s over. We can talk about something else, like asking John B and Sarah if they had enough condoms for their little escapade while Big John was away for the weekend.’

  As if on cue, Kiara hears JJ’s footsteps coming from the Chateau, accompanied by a rant about having to carry this many cans all on his own. It’s enough to take the Pogues’ attention away from the topic they’d been discussing, and beer is enough to get them to actually talk about something else. 

  JJ comes to sit back down with Kiara and Pope. She doesn’t realise in time, so she doesn’t raise her head up from his spot, but he pulls her legs up and sits down, putting them over his lap instead. 

  It’s such a nonchalant, effortless movement that she thinks nobody notices. But JJ’s hands are on her legs and she feels them move as he talks, and it’s difficult to get the group’s previous conversation out of her head. 

  it’s just jj, she thinks, and the thought releases the heaviness from her chest. 

  (just john, she thinks, and it’s stupid enough to make her light again.)

  ★

Eventually, though, the conversation does get back to Midsummers. It’s Pope who starts it as they drive back to the Chateau, leftovers from the Wreck in the back of the van with him and JJ. 

  ‘So, what’s the deal with you two?’ he asks, mouth full of fries. ‘What do you do now that your entire family and Kooklandia think you’re dating?’

  Kiara munches on her burger, glancing at Pope. Next to him, JJ is staring at her with a question in his eyes – they haven’t talked about this. 

  She stuffs a fry into her mouth and shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.’

  Pope bumps JJ’s shoulder. ‘Hey, now you’ve got to keep pretending until you’re Mr. Carrera and it’s too late to stop.’

  ‘Hey, if the kooks like me as much as they did that night, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Ew.’ The boy next to him makes a grimace, scrunching up his nose. ‘Kook sympathiser.’

  ‘You’re just jealous.’

  ‘Well, yeah. We all are. Except for Kiara.’

  Kiara smiles, rolling her eyes at the half-assed joke, but the words take her back to half-assed smiles the kooks gave her and her family. It takes her back to JJ giving her hand a squeeze and keeping her calm throughout the night, so she looks at the road, instead. 

  John B’s concentrated on driving with a burger in one hand, and it’s easier to pretend it’s just the two of them. She knows JJ is perceptive enough to have a better understanding of her kook status than any of the other two – she doesn’t want to see whatever must’ve been on his face after Pope’s words. 

  Especially not pity. 

  The whole charade is mentioned only once more that night, when they’re having the last of beers, just John B, JJ, and herself. Pope left earlier to get a good night’s sleep as his dad expects him to work first thing in the morning, and Sarah is busy spending time with her family (they’re doing some therapy one of her dad’s friends suggested, because he found out about her brother’s addiction).

  ‘You know, JJ, you’re one hell of a fake boyfriend,’ Kiara says. She raises her can in the air, exchanging glances with both boys. ‘I wanna cheers to that.’

  ‘Hell yeah. That’s what I wanted to hear.’

  All three of them bump cans into one another, laughing as it takes them a lot more effort than it would if they were sober. 

  Next to Kiara, JJ spreads his arms over the couch behind him. ‘You know, it was a good night.’

  ‘What was he like?’ asks John B. He’s sitting across the two, leaning against the wooden wall. He shakes his head, taking a swig of his beer. ‘JJ in the middle of Kooklandia. I can’t picture that.’

  ‘Oh, he was loving it,’ Kiara answers. ‘He tricked at least a dozen of them into thinking that they’d do business with him, or whatever. You know, the usual.’

  John B laughs. 

  ‘Yeah. I was a real catch that night.’

  Kiara glances at JJ, because his voice seems a little distant, and not in a drunk kind of way. 

  He’s looking at the space between the three of them, eyes out of focus. There’s the hint of a smile dancing in one corner of his lips, but it looks like something that’s a reflex, nothing else. JJ looks almost entirely different in that moment – it reminds her of the JJ she spoke to at the beach during the party, when he needed a few minutes of quiet. 

  Her hand reaches for his and she gives it a little squeeze. If John B notices, he doesn’t mention it. For a moment, JJ does nothing, but then she feels him applying the same pressure. He raises his head and gives her a little nod, as if he’s saying i’m okay.

  Kiara sends him a smile, before turning to John B. ‘He had all the kook ladies willing to leave their ugly ass husbands for him. The James Dean of our times.’ 

  John B laughs and JJ comments how James Dean was actually bisexual and he isn’t, and soon enough, it begins to feel a little less out of place. Still, JJ doesn’t let go of her hand even as he waves around the air with the other one. 

  It’s the first time that Kiara notices something has changed since Midsummers. Spending the night with JJ in an environment neither of them felt comfortable in exposed some part of their personalities they haven’t shown to one another before, and not to the pogues, either. She looks at him, now, as he talks about why the movies James Dean starred in are valuable pieces of art, and thinks about how she doesn’t see him the same as before. 

  They have something that’s just theirs, realises Kiara. The experience of Midsummers and the things they found out about one another is something only the two of them share. 

  He doesn’t let go of her hand until he’s back to his old, JJ Maybank-self.

  ★

Kiara is at work when her dad tells her to invite John to dinner tomorrow. She’s got her hands full of plates and glasses and nearly just about costs her dad 200 bucks when she almost drops them. 

  ‘Careful, Kiara!’

  ‘Sorry,’ she says, turning in the spot. ‘Um, JJ? Are you sure?’

  A slight wrinkle appears between Mike’s eyebrows. He flips a steak he’s currently cooking, handling the pan and the spatula at the same time. ‘Yeah. That’s your boyfriend’s name, right? John?’

  ‘Um. We call him JJ.’

  ‘JJ, then.’

  Mike makes an offhand motion towards the waiting area of the restaurant. The dishes on Kiara’s tray shake as she walks where he directed to, towards a table with a family of four. She manages a smile, but the conversation is cut short when she finds herself incapable of holding one. The mother thanks her and she’s kind enough that Kiara’s newfound jitters don’t end up causing a scene. 

  On her way back, she stops at the bar, taking a breather. 

  fuck. 

  ‘You good, Kie?’ From behind the bar, her cousin Iona throws a dish towel over her shoulder, a toothpick in her mouth. ‘Looking a little pale.’

  Kiara nods. She glances at her dad, who’s busy taking an order on the phone, and feels herself shudder. ‘All good. Just got a little lightheaded.’

  ‘You’ve been on your feet too long,’ notes Iona. She grins and cocks her head to the side, towards the backdoor of the restaurant. ‘Go out and take five. I’ll deal with your pops.’

  ‘Iona, you’re a gem.’

  Outside the back of the Wreck, there’s a little wooden bench where Iona usually sits on during her breaks. There’s cigarette butts in the little ashtray on the side of the bench, and she wonder how stressed just does her cousin get. 

  (Of course, she’s got better things to wonder about, the ones that are actually causing her to feel like she’s walking on needles, but ignoring them feels better.)

  Iona’s been working at the Wreck for about seven years now. At the age of almost twenty-one, she’s the eldest of Kiara’s cousins on her dad’s side and she’s by far the one she’s closest to. They’re friends, kind of, even if they aren’t in the same social circles. Kiara knows Iona’s friend group does drugs harder than weed, and the girl being from the Cut, she’s gotten herself in a fair share of trouble already.

  This brings her thoughts back to another person from there who can’t seem to stay out of trouble, and Kiara rubs her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling her shoulders slouch. 

  It’s been nearly two weeks since Midsummers and foolishly, she forgot about the whole “dating” situation. Even the pogues stopped harassing her and JJ about what happened, or what might’ve happened.

  She forgot. Her parents didn’t. Her parents still think she’s dating JJ because she forgot the part of her plan where she tells them they ended things, amicably, and now she’s too much of a pussy to do it. 

  fuck. 

  Kiara just wants to throw something, but the only thing on hand is the ashtray, so she just kicks the bench underneath her. 

  It hurts her heel. She curses again and grits her teeth, angrier by the second.

  JJ is going to kill her. She promised him it would be a one-time thing and even if he joked to the pogues that he wouldn’t mind doing it again, that doesn’t make it okay. 

  It’s been more than five minutes, Kiara is angry and her foot is starting to really hurt and her dad is going to call her back in any second now. Her mind is buzzing – she’s freaking out, a little bit, maybe. 

  Her phone’s in her pocket, so she takes it out and shoots JJ a text. It’s short and concise and it explains what’s going on a little better than the one before Midsummers did, but she’s still a jittery bundle of nerves. She even has the urge to bite her nails, or pick at the ends of her hair, which is a JJ thing to do, not Kiara. 

  The phone in her hand buzzes and she pulls down the notification, reading only the first text before opening the chat. Her heart already sets in her chest – the rests of the messages that keep buzzing in only make it calmer. 

  JJ [7:22pm] ur dads offering free food. of course im coming

  JJ [7:22pm] do you think kiara carreras bf would wear a tie to smth like that or just jeans 

  JJ [7:23pm] also does your dad send innocent boys to military 

  JJ [7:23pm] that ones for science

  Kiara sends another text, telling JJ to stop asking and get into character! and the fact that he doesn’t even seem upset about this not being a one-time thing, gives her enough rest to finish her shift. Even her dad mentions she’s all chipper when she tells him JJ has agreed to come over, and Iona tells her she knew it was about a boy. 

  It doesn’t matter. Kiara finishes the rest of her shift with a spring in her step – for whatever reason, she has a good feeling about this.

   

★

JJ shows up too soon. It’s just fifteen minutes, but dinner isn’t ready yet and the table isn’t set and the living room is a little bit of a hot mess, so Kiara just takes him to her room. Through the hum of the cooker hood, she hears her dad shout at them to keep the door open, and it relieves some of the tension that anchored itself within her chest. 

  If they’re wanting to close the door, it will be for a variety of things they shouldn’t be doing, but sex isn’t one of them. 

  JJ plops face-down onto her bed, making a whew! sound. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a Kildare County logo, probably stolen from his dad. Kiara told him to dress like he’d dress if he was genuinely going to have dinner with his girlfriend’s parents for the first time (and now she’s slightly regretting not actually choosing the outfit). 

  ‘You’re not going to impress anyone looking like that,’ she notes, getting into a cross-legged position next to him. 

  He pushes himself off the mattress, just enough to prop his torso on his elbows. ‘Are you saying I’m not parent-approved?’

  ‘I don’t know. You might not be.’

  ‘Shit. What if they make you break up with me?’

  Kiara covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head in feigned disbelief. ‘But you’re my true love!’

  ‘It’s okay.’ JJ’s hand is on her knee and his expression is soft, enough to make her almost believe in it. ‘Love always finds a way.’

  It’s almost good enough, Kiara tells herself, almost. Because there’s little wrinkles in his forehead and a gleam to his eyes and the curve of his lips is somehow different than she’s used to, a little less prominent but somehow more, and suddenly Kiara is thinking of a lot of things at once. 

  What she does is roll back in laughter, sticking her hands in her hair. She looks at JJ, and he’s smiling right back at her. 

  ‘You’re a terrific actor,’ she tells him. ‘I don’t think we’ll have any problems tonight.’

  ‘You, on the other hand…’

  ‘Oh, excuse me!’ She pushes him so he loses his balance and falls on his side, groaning. ‘I’ll have you know that I’m good at acting.’

  JJ scofs. He shakes his head and his hair loses some, if nearly all of its composure. ‘Sure, yeah, I remember how that play went in sixth grade.’

  ‘We don’t talk about that.’

  ‘We don’t?’

  Kiara shakes her head. 

  ‘Must’ve missed the memo, then. They didn’t give it to actually good actors.’

  JJ receives a playful slap on the back and just as she begins to tickle him, her mother calls their names from downstairs. They smoothen each other’s clothes, looking for any wrinkles and imperfections, and JJ’s thumb brushes off a smudge of chapstick he caused by tickling Kiara when she was putting it on.

  (‘What are you wearing lipstick for?’

  ‘It’s cherry chapstick, dumbass. So my lips aren’t crusty. Smell it.’)

  Neither of them is taken aback by the intimacy of the action, even if the edge of Kiara’s lips burns where he touched it. Her dad calls them again and Kiara’s fingers go through JJ’s blonde hair fixing it into a little bit less of a mess, but still messier than he came with. 

  He glances at himself in the mirror and frowns at Kiara through it. ‘Why did you mess it up?’

  Kiara smiles. ‘Can’t have you too perfect, I don’t want them to like you too much. Anyway, let’s go eat.’

   ★

Dinner at the Carreras’, especially when there’s people over to impress, is a big deal. Kiara’s dad is the owner of the Wreck, which is one of the two restaurants from the island that employ people from the island, as opposed to Figure Eight’s staff imported from some of the finest restaurants on the mainland. That means he gets down and dirty, and adores preparing meals, so whatever he’s going to serve is going to be nothing short of a five-star meal. 

  When they came down to the table, Mike and Anna had prepared a full feast. Roast chicken with onion and sage stuffing sat in the middle, a variety of salads and toppings and side dishes scattered around it. They didn’t know what JJ liked, and when Kiara said that he’ll eat just about anything he can get his hands on, even mouldy bread, Mike decided to show the boy what a dinner is.

  There are times when Kiara wonders if he’s heard stories about Luke Maybank – if he has an inkling of what’s happening behind closed doors in the Maybank family. 

  In any case, both Carreras were right. JJ ended up tasting a bit of everything, taking as much as he could and showering her dad with compliments. 

  They’re ready for dessert, JJ finally having admitted that he’s left just enough room for it, and Anna invites Kiara to come along to the kitchen. 

  ‘He’s a lovely boy,’ her mom notes. 

  ‘Mom!’ 

  Kiara leans back a little, just enough to see through the kitchen door. JJ has a smile on his face as he chats to her dad, and even though she can tell there’s a little bit of fearful respect hiding behind it, it’s better than she could’ve hoped for. 

  The thought brings out a smile to her face, too. ‘He is.’

  ‘You should’ve introduced him to us sooner.’ Her mom hands her a clean plate one after the other, and Kiara stacks them. ‘Your dad seems to like him.’

  Her eyebrows perk up at Anna’s words. ‘He does?’

  ‘Mhm. I haven’t seen him this interested in a boy in a long time, even the ones working for him.’  

  ‘But he’s interrogating him,’ Kiara counters. 

  ‘He’s making sure John is—sorry, JJ is the right person for you and won’t screw you over.’

  All Kiara gives in response is a sigh. She watches her mother cut the cake she made (her dad sucks at baking) and she can already tell JJ is going to love it. It’s got custard filling on the inside, between the biscuit layers, and chocolate sprinkles on top with a crunchy crust on the outside. 

  It’s yet another thought that makes her smile. 

  Anna places a piece on the plate Kiara is currently holding. It’s not supposed to take long, but she is as diligent as her husband when it comes to food, so it does. 

  Kiara can overhear the conversation taking place in the dining room, but not enough to be able to tell apart what they’re talking about. She can only hope it isn’t about her. 

  ‘You know,’ her mom begins, putting a piece on another plate. ‘It’s very obvious that he cares a lot for you.’

  ‘Obviously, he’s my best friend. And boyfriend,’ she adds, quickly. ‘Best friend and boyfriend.’

  ‘The winning combination.’ Anna gives her daughter one of her rare, earnest smiles. ‘I can see it in his eyes, you know. When he looks at you, it’s as if you’re the only thing he sees.’

  Kiara shifts the plates in her hands, maneuvering them around, really doing just about anything she can to hide her face from her mother. She knows she’s blushing—she feels the heat in her cheeks, on her neck, on her freaking palms—and she doesn’t want that to be seen. 

  ‘Don’t hide from me, I can tell what you’re doing. You’ve got the same look in your eyes, you know? It’s not something to be ashamed of.’

  it is when you’re not actually dating, Kiara thinks, but bites her tongue before the words slip out.

  She just nods, manages to come up with a smile and follows back into the dining room. Anna is the one who presents the cake and just like Kiara thought, JJ hardly contains himself before reaching for his piece (and then a few more). She likes seeing him enjoy himself; she likes seeing him happy, even if her dad terrifies him. 

  Kiara has some cake, too, and listens to JJ tell a story from his childhood. He leaves out a few major details that would classify the story as illegal, and both her parents laugh at it. 

  At some point, JJ notices something’s up with her. He doesn’t say anything, listening intently to Anna’s tales about being a lawyer since JJ expressed some interest in the profession, but his hand finds hers under the table. It’s a subtle touch, more of a question than a statement, and Kiara’s fingers intertwine with his. 

  Some time later, her parents get involved in a few exchanges between themselves only, and JJ glances at her with eyebrows raised in question. 

  She nods, with a smile, and feels her hand squeezed. 

    ★

JJ asks her if she wants to go for a walk once Kiara’s parents have retreated from the kitchen. Both he and Kiara have offered to help out with the cleaning, but Anna was adamant that they don’t, so there was quite literally nothing else to do. 

  Outside, the air is chilly. Kildare island smells of the sea, wherever you go, and Kiara often thinks she could never be away from the sea. It’s the one thing she associates with home – the distinct smell of salt mixed with oak trees and freshly mowed grass, occasional bonfire and barbecue. 

  That is what comes to mind when someone says home. She isn’t much of a person who ties herself to places or people as her anchors, but memories are where she finds herself dwelling. Memories and experiences. 

  This part of the island is quiet. Her and JJ’s steps on the gravel path are the only thing she can hear that isn’t animals, really. It’s calming and terrifying, to not hear children playing outside even so late at night, like she always hears when she’s on her way home from the Chateau. 

  ‘What’re you thinking about?’

  Kiara glances at JJ, shaking her head a little, smiling a little more. ‘Everything,’ she says. ‘This is going to sound stupid, but I think I’m starting to appreciate what I’ve got. Friends, family, work, all the memories I’ve made here… It’ll be difficult to let go of it someday.’

  JJ chuckles, dryly, but doesn’t say anything. His footsteps fall into the same rhythm as her and he edges just a little bit closer. ‘Do you often think about leaving?’

  His voice is curious, but it’s low and slow in a way that’s making her wonder if there’s more behind the question. He doesn’t look at her when he asks it – he’s looking forward instead, eyebrows a little furrowed and shoulders hunched. 

  ‘Sometimes,’ admits Kiara. ‘I think about college, and sometimes about what happens after. I always thought I’d go out there, travel the world, try to save as much of it as I can, but I don’t know anymore. There’s people who need help here, too. People I see every day.’ She pauses, glancing at him. ‘Recently, I’ve been thinking that maybe I’d come back here after college.’

  JJ nods without a word.

  She doesn’t think about him when she mentions the people who could use her help, and she wants to backtrack on that statement, but it feels like the deed is done. There’s only hoping he understands she doesn’t see him as someone needing fixing. 

  ‘You think you’d stay?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve got some time to decide.’ Kiara glances at him again and this time, he’s got an expression on his face that she can’t read. He’s thinking about something, she can tell, but beyond that he’s a mystery. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m leaving.’ His voice is sharp and deadpan, no thinking behind it. ‘As soon as I’ve got high school sorted, I’m out.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  JJ nods. ‘You’re going to be at college or travelling the world. Pope is going to be a big shot somewhere far away from here, where he can actually have a future. John B and Sarah are going to do whatever floats their boat, but considering their Romeo and Juliet status here, they won’t stick around, either. There’ll be nothing keeping me here.’

  no friends, no family, no future, Kiara understands. Her stomach churns at the realisation that unlike her, JJ didn’t spend a moment thinking about his answer. He’d had it prepared – he’d thought of it enough times to know it by heart. 

  They walk in silence, because what do you say when you realise your relationship with the person next to you has an expiration date and it’s approaching at a rapid speed?

  It was supposed to be a good evening. 

  Kiara wants to bump shoulders with him, brush his hand, give him any sign that would say i’m not gone yet, yet all she does is wrap her arms around herself. ‘You know we’re always going to be a team, right? The pogues are for life.’

  He chuckles, shaking his head. ‘Nah, that’s just a dream. We’re all going to move on, someday.’

  ‘Is that how you see us?’

  JJ looks at her and she has never, in her entire life, seen him so certain. ‘That’s the way it is.’

  They reach the end of the path and looking around saves Kiara from showing her reaction. She leads them toward the beach, through the trees with only the moon to shine their way, and hopes he won’t try to see her face in the darkness. 

  With her chest getting heavy and eyes teary, Kiara shoves those emotions in the back of her mind. 

  the pogues are forever, she thinks, even if i have to make you realise that.

  The tension between them isn’t like usual. It’s heavy with things they aren’t saying, loaded with emotions they’re both trying to hide; it’s a line there’s no uncrossing. 

  ‘Kie.’ JJ’s hand catches her arm and he waits until she turns to face him. ‘I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t care about you. I just—’ he stops himself and shakes his head, letting his hand fall to his side. ‘I don’t want to be disappointed. I need to keep myself in check. If I’m wrong, I’d – fuck, I’d give anything to be wrong about this.’

  She steps closer to him, wondering if her face is a book he can read word for word. Her hands longs to touch his, to give him the physical support she knows he needs, but she doesn’t let it. 

  Instead, she puts on what she hopes is a reassuring smile, and blinks the emotions away. ‘There’s nothing wrong with a little hope.’

  ‘I can’t afford hope,’ he states. 

  ‘JJ—’

  ‘It’s okay.’ He takes a step back and Kiara feels the space between them like a blow to her chest. ‘We’re just kids, Kie. We’re not meant to be forever, or some shit like that. Hell, there’s shit about me that you wouldn’t even like if you knew. Right in front of your eyes and I’m pretending—’

  ‘Tell me, then,’ Kiara cuts him off. ‘I bet I’ll know it already.’

  He closes the same distance he’d previously put between them and they’re almost chest to chest, almost close enough for her to feel his breath on her lips. 

  JJ has fire in his eyes, one that one he knows why it’s burning. ‘The kooks, I— I’m a hypocrite, Kie. I say I hate them when I really envy how fucking easy they have it. How one night with them when they think I’m one of them gives me more opportunities than I’ve had in the entire seventeen years of my life.’

  ‘That’s what this is about? Midsummers?’

  Something shuts in him and he steps away, further than before, walking towards the beach. Kiara catches up, falling in step with him. She doesn’t want him to run away from her and she isn’t going to let him. 

  ‘JJ, you can’t just do this.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’ He doesn’t stop walking, or slow down, and his strides are bigger than hers. 

  ‘Let me try.’

  He shakes his head; Kiara sees his fists curled as they swing at his sides, and reaches for one of them. The way his hand relaxes in his is instantaneous and instinctive, as if he were ice and she were fire. 

  JJ’s steps slow until they come to a halt. He leans his back against a tree without letting go of her hand; when he faces her, his eyes glimmer in the darkness. 

  ‘They kept mentioning my dad, and how good he’s always been with boats,’ he tells her. His voice begins rushed but calms to a steady pace, almost as if the words are hurting as they come out. ‘Then they started asking me questions about their boats, and I could guess what might be wrong with them and they thought it was amazing. They thought I had a gift.’ He pauses for a second; she hears him swallow. ‘In reality, I learnt boats because my dad would beat me if I didn’t recognise a boat he was fixing. I had to know all that shit because if I didn’t remember the horsepower, no one did, because he sure as hell couldn’t.’

  A shiver runs down her spine. JJ’s voice is distant but pained and she recognises it all too well. She doesn’t know what to say, so she gives his hand a squeeze and steps a little closer, enough to hold him if he needs her to. 

  He’s looking right through her. ‘I know boats because I had to. I always thought it was a curse, a burden, whatever. But they…’ JJ pauses, shakes his head, composes himself. ‘They saw someone who understands their boats like no one else. They gave me contacts of people who could use my expertise, offered me more jobs than I could take. And I saw my way out. I saw myself as one of them, eventually, with a nice three-piece, a fancy house, and someone else to take care of my shit.’

  Kiara’s eyes stare at his, waiting for them to come back into focus. He’s warm and trembling, and their hands are beginning to sweat, but she doesn’t let go. She watches him, his chest heaving, and waits for him to come back to her. 

  His thumb brushes her knuckles. JJ rests his head against the tree trunk, too, and closes his eyes for a few moments. 

  Now she understands why she recognised the way he’s been acting since they started the conversation – it’s the same distant, almost ethereal way he held himself that night during Midsummers, when he brought her out to the ocean. 

  Now there’s no waves to drown the silence. 

  ‘I hate it,’ he whispers. ‘I hate how much I liked their attention. I hate that I’ve been exchanging messages and emails and calls with some of them, arranging how I’d come take a look at their boats and yachts and whatever shit they’ve got parked in their private harbours.’

  ‘That’s not a bad thing,’ Kiara tells him, her voice hoarse. His eyes flutter then open, not seeing through her anymore. ‘I know you, JJ. I know why you’re saying this, and I get it. But you don’t have to hold onto those grudges anymore. People are shitty.’

  He laughs, dryly, but Kiara still considers it an improvement from what he was like only moments before. 

  She steps closer to him. ‘You understand boats in a way no one I know does, JJ. It might be because of your dad, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t use it. That it can’t bring you something good.’

  ‘It feels wrong.’

  ‘To want something better for yourself?’

  JJ nods, and Kiara’s heart shatters. ‘JJ, no. You’re not a hypocrite for realising the world doesn’t work the way you thought it does. There’s no good or bad people, right or wrong side of anything. That’s called growing up.’

  ‘Does being a grown up feel shitty?’

  It’s a light attempt at a joke, half-hearted and half-assed, and Kiara gives him a half-smile and a half-chuckle. ‘Yeah, based on everything I’ve heard.’

  ‘Ugh. Can’t wait.’

  Kiara tugs on his hand until he looks at her. She hesitates, for a moment, but then wraps her arms around him and pulls him close. There’s a moment in which she doesn’t know if she overstepped his boundaries, if this is something she shouldn’t have done, but then she feels his hands gentle on her back and she thinks it’s okay, i’ve got you.

  When they part, she ruffles his hair, just like she did before they went down to have dinner with her parents. She does that with a smile and to the question in his eyes, she says, ‘Can’t have you looking too sad.’

  JJ just sighs and pushes himself off the tree. ‘You’re so dramatic, Kie.’

  He gets back on the path and Kiara follows, navigating them through the woods. There’s a spring in his step that she didn’t even notice had been gone for a while, and she doesn’t comment on it. 

  ‘Says the one who just had a monologue that would put Hamlet to shame.’ 

  ‘Please,’ he says, ‘Shakespeare ain’t got nothing on me.’

  Kiara laughs and bumps his shoulder, causing both of them to almost lose balance at the touch. 

  JJ stabilises himself and looks at her. His eyes are wrinkled with mellowness to them, a faint smile tracing his lips. ‘Thanks,’ he says. 

  ‘Anytime. You’re my fake boyfriend, after all.’

  The words make him laugh just as they reach a clearing leading toward the open sea. The moon shines bright high up above them and he speeds up, almost running to water. 

  Kiara wonders if maybe she isn’t the only one who considers a place that makes people feel like this home. 

  JJ takes off his shoes and dips his toes into the water, watching her do the same. ‘You know, if pretending to be your boyfriend means I keep getting delicious food that’s also free, I’m down for doing it whenever. Seriously. This has been the highlight of my summer so far.’

  Stepping into the water until it’s above her ankles, Kiara frowns. 

  So far, this summer, they’ve had a road trip in John B’s van through the whole of North Carolina, thrown a few of the best keggers of their lives, nearly set the entire Chateau on fire amongst many other things. 

  So she just shakes her head in disbelief. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Mhm.’

  JJ’s hand touches the water and throws it in her direction, sprinkling her. She fakes a grunt and then he laughs with ease, with no heaviness in it, and she feels her own chest to be a little lighter, too. 

  Her hands are on his chest, pushing him backwards. ‘Well in that case, Mr. John, I’ve got a gig for you. My mom’s cousin is getting married at the end of August and I desperately need a chaperone.’

  He cocks his head to the side, a grin taking over his face. ‘Then you’ve got yourself one, Miss Kiara.’

  Then he reaches down with both hands and splashes her with water until she’s completely soaked and so is he and they’re laughing, and Kiara thinks that maybe there’s some hope for the pogues left in him, after all.

   ★

tagging. @jjmaybanky​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​ @drewstarkey​​ @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge​​ @outrbank​​ @juneyxx @drewstarkeyobx​​ @ilovejjmaybank​​​ @teamnick​​​ @jjmaybanksbaby​​​ @mahleeyuh​​​ @nicolewithasoul​​ @kiarawilliams127​​ @starlightstarkey​​ @anonymous0writer​​ @outerbongs​​ @warnettc​​ @jjandreidsgirl​​

[luvknow]

not so bad | lee minho

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | friends-to-lovers ; roommates ; college au ; swearing ; alcohol consumption

summary: falling for your best friend isn’t the most ideal situation, but it’s not as bad as you think

wc: 13.7k

For most people, living with your best friend sounded like the most ideal situation - the absolute best and only option. Most people couldn’t even begin to think about living with anyone else. Think about it; endless nights staying up watching some shitty Netflix live-action adaptation of an anime, eating Chinese take-out on lazy Sunday evenings, going grocery shopping together? The list of things to do together was infinite! Who else would anyone want to do all the boring domestic stuff with other than their best friend?

But you, on the other hand, would rather be homeless.

“Wo~ow,” Minho scoffed when you rejected his generous offer.

The two of you sat in his newly-furnished, but still a bit empty, living room to take a break from unpacking and arranging all of his junk. About a month before the new semester started, Minho’s rich-ass uncle so graciously offered him one of his several houses just a couple bus stops away from campus. As long as Minho kept the place clean and maybe got a roommate or two to help pay the mortgage, then he was free to stay until he graduated. Of course, you were the first person he asked because the above statements spent with you sounded like so much fun.

Too bad you’re cold and heartless and wanted him to die alone.

“Why don’t you want to move in?” his asked, cheeks filled with lo mein. “Didn’t you just say you hated living at your place?”

“I didn’t say I hate it… I just hate that she brings a different guy over every other day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds like normal roommate shit. It’s better than her being a slob, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but when it’s 2:00 am and I can hear EVERYTHING through the walls, I want to jump off the balcony.”

“Not everything.”

“I mean it, Minho. Everything.”

“Damn, invite me over next time.” You chuck a piece of your half-eaten fortune cookie and it hit him right on his bare forehead leaving a tiny scratch mark. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“Stop being weird!”

“If you hate hearing all that gross stuff all of the time, isn’t that all the more reason for you to come live with me?”

“No, because you’ll literally do the same thing!”

“Ok, you have way too much faith in me to think I’m going to bring someone home that often.”

“Hm, I do, don’t I…”

“C’mon, cheap rent, cool aesthetics, good company - what’s actually holding you back? Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

Minho held a single chopstick between his big bunny teeth and did that weird little smirk and wiggly brow combo that somehow caught the hearts too many girls back in your high school days. To this day, you were one of the lucky few who didn’t fall under his spell. The sriracha sauce stains on his cheek made him look EXTRA sexy.

“Why in the world would living with you mean I’d fall in love with you?” you asked, shoving a napkin to his cheek.

“Don’t girls like that corny domestic lifestyle shit? Coexisting in the same space, mutual seemingly-platonic hugs and cuddles, cooking together, and all that jazz?”

“You’re not even into all that jazzy stuff!”

“I like to cook!”

“And then what, I’m left with the dishes? I’ll be falling head over heels for you in no time.”

“That’s how mutualism works, silly! We each benefit from each other’s skills! Symbiosis, or whatever.”

A giggle left your lips from his expanded vocabulary. Who knew he knew so many words with more than two syllables?

“Those are some complicated words. I take it you like Biology 101?” you asked.

“I do! It’s super cool! Did you know in most species, the male is known to be the more colorful and prettier one and not the females? And the males compete with each other and the females are the ones choosing the prettiest, strongest male?”

“I did not know that.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s called sexual selection - it’s like peacocking.”

“Sounds like some shit you do with all your name brands and stuff.”

“Please, like other guys could even compare to my train of feathers.”

In the end, after days flowed into weeks of begging you to come live with him in what he called his playboy penthouse, he reluctantly accepted your rejection and was off to beg one of his other friends because there was no way in hell could he afford this place alone. Though ideally Minho wanted to be roommates, having you visit often was close enough. It’s just… asking you to move in with him was not about helping him with rent in the least. He truly, genuinely wanted to do dumb domestic chores, bicker all day, and have those deep, late-night talks with you whenever he could. Wouldn’t it be so fun if he annoyed you and followed you around every waking minute of the day?

Doing all of those things to half the extent would be just enough for now. His favorite activities with you were anything involving food. Even grocery shopping, normally one of his least favorite and most stressful chores by himself, was tolerable with you around because you knew just the right cuts of meat and what ingredients were needed for the perfect meal.

“Why did you pick so many vegetables? I’m not a rabbit…” the seemingly twelve year old next to you pouted. Like an angsty teenager, he used the cart as a means of support and followed closely behind with a pout on his lips as you dumped vegetable after vegetable into the cart.

“You kind of look like one, though.”

“Are you callin’ me cute?”

“I’m calling you a nuisance.”

“A cute nuisance, right?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying.”

But soon the semester would start and your day would no longer be spent with him, it’d be spent at the library either studying or tutoring the dumb freshmen. Before you ask, yes, he was jealous of all the other people who took up your time and yes, he’s very clingy. You could see where Soonie, Doongie, and Dori all got their bad habits from. Normally, with any other guy including some long-term boyfriend, you’d be tired and annoyed if they were anything like Minho. But only the real Minho could get away with texting you so often and wondering why you weren’t baking brownies with him at ten at night.

Things weren’t easy on your end, either. You barely had time for yourself and it was only the first round of midterms for the semester! All you ever did these days was wake up, eat, school, eat some more if and ONLY IF you had time, and finally sleep… sometimes. This routine included the weekends, too. You offered for Minho to join you in the library for a study sesh nearly every day, but he’d rather die than sit in germ-infested chairs that are never sanitized, so yeah, you don’t get to see him face-to-face very often anymore. Facetime and Skype would have to do for now.

But then all that lost time started to catch up with you. You’d often come home late, especially if you knew your roommate had someone over to do their thang, and before you could flop on your couch to take a breather, it was completely missing from the living room because your roommate packed up all of her shit and left! Without even telling you! How rude, right!? Until you found a note on the coffee table that said, ‘I moved out today! Sorry if this is such short notice… You haven’t been home the past couple of weeks for me to tell you in person and I didn’t want to break it to you in text…’

Ok, so you wouldn’t say you were totally not at fault for this considering she was considerate enough to want to tell you about moving out in person, but didn’t she think to at least text you like… a couple of days before she did it!? Your lease was supposed to renew tomorrow, but now there wasn’t enough time to find a last-minute roomie on the college forum-version of craigslist and you didn’t make enough money to pay for the rent solo, so now you were almost homeless.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Minho’s place at half-past midnight on the dot with your big stuffed bear in your arms and a cheeky, adoring smile on your guilty-written face. You must have woken him up because his fluffy hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were barely open, and… he was shirtless…

“I’m not interested in your Girl Scout Cookies,” he mumbled tiredly.

“I wish I was selling those, then maybe I wouldn’t be here…”

“What do you mean?”

“Guess who wants to be your roommate ~!” you sang cheerfully.

“No.”

“Wha-? Why not!?”

“I already have one.”

“Who!?”

“Changbin,” he said, shooting his thumb to the small lazy boy lounging on the couch. Wasn’t he rich as fuck also? What does he need to live here for?

“‘Sup,” Changbin greeted, unable to look away from the television.

“Don’t you have one more room in this place? I’ll even sleep in a closet if I have to,” you pouted tiredly. You were ready to ring in the water works if you had to because if Minho rejected you one more time, your tears were ready to flow.

“Whoa, you’re that desperate, huh? What happened?”

“Roommate moved out, I couldn’t find another one, cried and contemplated life for a little bit, and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that is pretty bad…”

“Yeah, so as you can see, I really need you right now.”

Minho knew you were never one to rely on people, no matter how close you two were. For as long as he could remember, you always did everything on your own. So for you to say that you needed him, you must have really meant it. Your words were soft and quiet, your gaze set on the porch you stood on, and of all things he hated, seeing you so upset and stressed like this was among his top five on the list. How could he turn you away when this was a time you needed him the most? He knew if he were in your position, you’d welcome him in without hesitation.

You sighed tiredly, pushing your pride aside to ask a friend a favor. “So could you spare another roommate? Just until I can get back on my feet again?”

“Hm…” Minho fake-contemplated, rubbing his scruffy chin. “You know, normally I would never do this, but since you’re my friend, I GUESS I could let you stay here until you’re set.”

“If it’s too much trouble, or if you don’t want me here, I can go -”

“No! You’ll stay here with me for as long as you’d like.” A half-naked but jolly Minho smothered you in a bone-crushing hug. Even though touching so much surface area of his skin made you cringe, his hug made you feel more at home than your apartment could ever make you feel.

“Don’t ever assume I don’t want you here, dumbass. I’ll always welcome you with my open, naked, buff arms.”

“Ugh, this is so gross.” Regardless, you returned his hug with equal force. You never felt safer. “Thank you. I seriously owe you one.”

“Anything for my girl. Where’s all your stuff?”

“Yeah, that sounded more like a tomorrow problem, but I came here tonight because I was lonely.”

“Ha ha, you miss me ~”

“Just a little.”

“Since you’re already here, just stay the night. We can order food and start our big, happy, poly-domestic partnership right now.”

“For the love of God, please do not say that aloud in public…”

“No promises.”

Minho dragged you into the only other bedroom that wasn’t occupied and you’re pretty sure it was just as big as your living room. It was pretty much furnished with all of the basics, so you’re lucky that you won’t have to bring too many heavy things in the morning. As you were admiring the room, a finally fully-clothed Minho chucked his pajamas at you.

“You can wear these for tonight,” he said.

“Ew! Why did you give me your boxers!?”

“I thought my pants would be too long on you?”

“I’m not wearing wearing these.”

“So ungrateful… My sweatpants are in my room in the drawer. Go nuts.”

Minho left you alone to go order food for his two favorite pals while you were left to your own devices in the room where the magic happened, as he called it. For a dude, you knew he was on the cleaner side, but his bedroom was a lot tidier than you expected. There weren’t any clothes on the floor, all of his accessories were placed neatly by the mirror, and the only thing out of place was his blanket that was jumbled up in the corner of his bed. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you for disturbing his beauty sleep, but like you said at the door, you owed him one. Well, maybe more than one… like, a dozen ones…

While looking through the drawers for pants, you rolled your eyes at the site of all the name brands embroidered near the pockets. The logos were strictly swooshes and SUPREME. An opportunity to wear matching sweatpants and hoodie that were worth more than your textbooks didn’t come very often, so you chose the heather gray pair. Just as you slipped your head through the top, Minho came in to check on you.

“I ordered chicken, I hope that’s cool - whoa!” Minho burst into a fit of giggles at the site of his his already-oversized sweats looking extra oversized on you. You’ve worn his hoodies before and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way you look in them. You’re just so cute.

“You look like a jumbo toasty marshmallow.”

“I wouldn’t say jumbo… and marshmallows aren’t gray.”

“Same difference. Are you ready yet? Changbin’s gonna drink your beer if you don’t come out sooner.”

“That little -! He’s such a roach!!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom and hopped over the empty side of the couch, scaring the boy dressed in all black who was just trying to eat his chips and watch How to Get Away With Murder in peace. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Minho, but you two hung out within the same circle enough to be comfortable around each other so living with him shouldn’t be TOO terrible. Luckily, your drink looked like it hadn’t been touched.

“So are you like, living here living here?” Changbin asked with fake disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, so get used to it.”

“Just when I thought I’d get Minho all to myself…”

“What are you doing here, anyways? Aren’t you also like, super dumb rich? You could probably buy this whole building.”

“No, my parents are super dumb rich. I, on the other hand, barely have a dime to my name until I graduate law school.”

“Oh yeah, you changed your major right?”

“Yeah, and let’s just say my parents weren’t too happy about that… Thankfully, my favorite hyung here has so graciously let me into his home ~”

“Yeah yeah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing himself in the middle. “Anything’s better than being alone in this place, even if it means housing you two rats.”

“Hey, you said you’d always welcome me here, so that’s your fault for agreeing,” you argued.

“Love you, babe ~” Changbin sang.

Once the chicken arrived, your night of being welcomed to the penthouse had only begun. The rest of the evening was spent talking about literally anything your tipsy and dumb brains could conjure up. From crying about school, to praying to the stars, and telling Changbin stories about yours and Minho’s prepubescent days, you could already predict your days living here would make your heart full.

“I bet you’re single, huh, _____?” Changbin said suddenly after popping open his third beer.

A conversation about each other’s love lives was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially when alcohol was involved, but your mouth started talking before your brain could process.

With a pout on your lips, you retorted, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because what person would be ok with having their girlfriend living at another dude’s apartment and with me as the other roommate?”

“If you already knew the answer, why bother asking?”

“I just wanted to confirm in case you and I accidentally fall in love.”

“I’ll evict both of you before I let that happen under my roof.” Minho slurred.

“What is with you and Minho and the whole roommates falling in love trope? Is that a common thing? Have you two been watching dramas since you started living together?”

“So what if we have!?” Changbin yelled.

“They’re not realistic, you know.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“I feel sorry for the next person you end up dating.”

“Yeah, me too.” Changbin took a huge, final chug of his beer before crushing it in his hands. So macho… “All right, I guess it’s time I pass out. See you guys in the morning. Don’t get too crazy while I’m asleep.”

“Nighty night.”

You and Minho were left in the quiet living room snuggled up in your own blankets. You thought the silence was comfortable, as you’ve spent enough time with him that not a word said in between for long periods of time was just fine, but by the look on his face you could tell something was up. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he was just tired, but his eyes never left the random spot on the coffee table for a solid five minutes.

You threw a potato chip at his cheek.

“Hm?” he hummed, surprisingly unphased. His tired eyes turned to look at you questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, my Prince?” The origin of the beloved nickname was from the time you dared him to try out for the high school play as the leading role and to your excitement and his dismay, he was passed the audition. He’d never admit it to your face, but he kind of enjoyed the spotlight and popularity for a while, and he never lets you forget how much he loved that nickname.

You managed to crack a smile from him and your worries began to fade away. “I was just thinking about something.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What Changbin said - what if you end up really liking someone and they’re not ok with you living with two hot and sexy guys?”

“Well, he can either get over it or I’ll dump him.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Remember that pact we made our first year of high school? The one where we pinky promised each other that no matter what, we wouldn’t let anyone come in between us?”

“Of course I do, but we were like what, fourteen? That was so long ago!”

“So?”

“So what I mean is…”

The ruggedly handsome boy beside you sighed deeply like he was ready to tell you something important. He laid his heavy hands on your shoulder and pulled you close so that you had all of your attention on him and not the fact that there was only two inches between your faces and that he smelled like alcohol. Was his skin always this clear? What the hell was his skincare routine? The blush on your cheeks continued to glow brighter as his eyes bore deep into your own, like he was searching for an answer to a question that only you held the answer to. He must admit that your shy side made you look so cute. Each second that passed was more intimate than the last and you so wished that he’d tell you what the hell was up with him already because your inadvertent breath-holding from the close proximity was making you light-headed. This felt like one of those scenes in those corny dramas that Minho watches - was he about to… dare you say… kiss you…?

Then you figured Minho learned a thing or two in drama class because his serious persona flew out the window when he shook you roughly by the shoulders, but at least you could breathe freely again.

“You shouldn’t have to choose between me and someone you like ~!” he whined childishly. “If he doesn’t like you living here, and you really like him, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle!”

“Minho, you idiot, you’re the sole reason I’m not homeless and dying on the street, so what the hell do you want me to do IF that ever happens!? Move out!?”

“Ah, I didn’t think about it that way…”

“Lee Minho,” you emphasized to the pouty boy. “If - if - I meet someone I like, and they don’t like that I’m living with two guys, then fine, I can understand that and feelings like that can easily change over time. But if he can’t understand that you’re my best friend, that I cherish our friendship more than anything, and thinks there’s something else going on, then that’s when I’ll dump him. So there’s no need for you to worry that I have to choose between those two, ok?”

Minho sighed once more, breathing out all his worries about you being alone forever and stuck being a hermit in his apartment. “Ok, I believe you.”

“God, you’re so weird! Since when did my love life matter to you?”

“We’re nearing graduation, _____. We’re not getting any younger! And look, we’re both STILL single as a pringle…”

“When you and I are twenty-five and alone, unemployed and rotting away in this very room, then that’s when we’ll cry about it. But for now, we gotta worry about graduating.”

“I know. I just want you to be happy ~” With crocodile tears in his big, curious eyes, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. It reminded you of all the times you told him not to touch you because he was being too sappy or he was sweaty and proceeded to hug you tighter anyways. Those were the best hugs.

“Shut up, I am happy.”

“Good.”

“What about you, hm? What if a girl you like sees that I live here?”

“Easy - I’ll just say you’re the housekeeper.”

“… You’re going to make one dumb girl very happy one day.”

“You think so?” he asked sincerely. “You really think I could make someone happy one day?”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to tell Minho how much happiness and sunlight he brought into your life. From the minor inconveniences to the darkest days, Minho was always your only source of light. You were way too tired to even attempt to be cheesy with him and closed your eyes instead, relaxing into his tight hug and hoping sleep would find you sooner rather than later.

“I know so, Lee Know.”

You stayed in Minho’s arms while the hum of the television and rhythm of his heart lulled you to sleep. Your favorite boy was content with where he was - holding you in his arms and stroking your hair until you were asleep and you didn’t have to worry about school, moving out, and whether this was mutually platonic or anything but. He thinks that there’s no way that ordinary best friends could lay like this and not cause any sort of tension in between. Then again, you two were extraordinary at best, so maybe the standard rules didn’t apply. To an unknowing passerby, this scene might look like two people in love who couldn’t get enough of each other. If Changbin came to see this, he’d probably think the same thing.

In the end, Minho wouldn’t care what anyone thought if they saw. It didn’t matter because this just felt so… right.

He’ll question his tugging heartstrings some other time.

Minho ended up carrying your sleeping form to your room. After tucking you in and resisting the urge to crawl onto the open space beside you, he thinks to himself that he could get used to this.

There was no way you could get used to this.

For such a huge place, only one of the two bathrooms had a shower. Which seemed fine, right? Considering there were only three of you living there. But you totally forgot that you lived with two of the most high-maintenance men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Minho wasn’t as bad as Changbin because he didn’t spend an hour moisturizing his entire body and fixing his hair - he only took half an hour. But you know that weird thing guys do when they take a dump they take an extra half hour just to play phone games or scroll through social media? So think about it, two boys who are mildly-to-severely high maintenance took a total of almost three hours using the damn bathroom.

That wasn’t even the worst of it! Other than the night you told Minho you were moving in, you guys haven’t had any fast food since. The two of them were watching their weight and muscle progress together so their diet strictly cut out carbs and the good stuff which meant the fridge was filled with veggies and brown grains you couldn’t even pronounce.

And even then, that wasn’t the worst. The absolute worst was when Minho would text you or call you at nine on the dot every single night that you weren’t home at that time. First, he’d call, and half of the time you would answer, but when you didn’t, he’d spam your messages until you replied with a pin drop of your location.

Tonight was the last straw.

“Stop calling,” you scolded while walking home from the library.

“So Changbin and I are in the mood for pizza and we figured you wanted some. You must be tired of all the quinoa,” he explained, ignoring your scolding. “Where are you?”

What’s the best way to spook Minho but not to the point where he’d call the police and demand an amber alert?

“I can’t right now. I’m with a guy.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end and something that sounded like he dropped something on the floor. You can hear Changbin’s faint ‘bro, what the hell!’ in the background and Minho heard you stifle a giggle.

“What? A guy? Who?”

“No one you know. I’ll see you when I get home ~!”

“Wait -”

You hung up before Minho could get another word in and you instantly regretted it. Once Minho found out you were kidding, he was probably going to relieve you of your pizza privileges and force you to eat more quinoa as punishment. You would hate it initially, but if there was even a slight chance that this made your message to him to stop worrying and calling you all the time crystal clear, then you’d eat bowls upon bowls of it and get all the grains stuck between your teeth because that’s how worth it it’d be.

What the hell had gotten into him, anyways? He was never like this in high school. If anything, HE was the boy you’d sneak out with, doing dumb hooligan things with, and being too close for comfort with - he was the boy he was trying to protect you from. Not even your parents were this protective, but you had to give him credit for being so diligent.

You weren’t too far from home, so you left Minho’s texts all on read until you stepped through the door. Changbin wasn’t surprised in the least that you were joking, and Minho knew you couldn’t have possibly be truthful about that, either, but he stepped out the door and scanned the hallways just to make sure you weren’t actually with some creep. You took this moment to sneak a slice or three before Minho could hoard the whole pie.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” you teased, cheeks filled with cheese.

“I can’t believe you would joke about that.”

“I can,” Changbin muttered.

“What made you guys buy pizza?”

“A man can only eat salads and white chicken for so long. We deserve this.”

“We all deserve this. I wasn’t even on a diet in the first place, I was forced into it.”

“Yeah, but you look great at least, so you’re welcome.”

“Whatever.”

Sure, there were a lot of inconveniences when it came to living with two dudes who annoyingly functioned the same, but you would take on this form of entertainment over television any day. So yeah, Minho was annoying like ninety percent of the time… but he was just being a good friend and worrying about you.

It was nice to be cared for once in a while. Minho was the only one who would go out of his way just for you. Whether it was picking you up in the middle of the night from some party to walk you home or scolding you harshly about how you should wear scarves more so you wouldn’t get sick while making you a hot bowl of soup made with love, he never made you feel like you were an inconvenience. This curfew thing was a little over the top, though.

Changbin went to his room after whining about being a law student and how hard it was that he had to wear a suit everyday to his internship, leaving you and Minho alone at the kitchen table. The kitchen was were you spent most of your time together, whether it was using the table to eat, play dumb board games, or as one big desk to study on. Tons of late-night studying, gossiping, and snacking were spent at this table with Minho sitting across from you every time.

“It’s been about a month since you moved in, right?” he asked, plucking a pepperoni off of your slice. “How do you like it so far?”

There’s a short silence in the air before you answered. It was a little worrying, so he kicked you under the table to make you answer faster. How dare you not immediately answer with anything other than ‘I fucking love it’? “Besides only having five minutes to shower every morning, forced to go vegetarian, and having a 9:00 PM curfew? It’s better than being homeless, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” Another short pause, followed by Minho shyly avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot of fun having you around.”

“Really? I don’t scare any poor souls you try to bring home?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been trying.”

“Whoa, Minho the slut taking a hiatus!?” you teased, earning you a crumpled napkin to the face.

“Shut up.”

“Why the sudden disinterest?”

His shoulders did a tiny shrug as if letting you know that even he was unsure of why. He hoped you’d help him find the answer. “No one catches my eye these days, I guess.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah, ok…”

“Well, what about you, huh? Has your boy-crazy self found someone interesting?”

You take a big, defeated bite into the leftover crust, allowing you to exploit your anger through vigorous chewing. Your efforts have obviously gone to a waste. “You and Changbin always like to remind me that I’m single.”

“I simply asked if you found anyone hot.”

“You know what’s sad? I haven’t…”

“Ah, I see - Changbin and I made your standards too high now, huh?”

“Both of you are probably stashing the hot guys in the gym somewhere because you know I won’t find them.”

“Damn, you caught us.”

“You know what else is sad, though?” Minho had to suffer and watch you sip your cola with your sad, pouty lips. It wasn’t that he felt bad, or anything, you just looked so… self-pitying. He’s seen this look way too often during your first year of college when some other chick would swoop in a steal the guy you had your eyes on. “Even if I did like someone, I don’t think I would act on it.”

“Why the hell would you cockblock yourself like that?”

“I’ve never been on a legitimate date before!”

“You’re such a damsel. You’ve totally been on a date before.”

“Senior prom with Hyunjin doesn’t count.”

“You guys had dinner and some dancing, doesn’t that count?”

You ignored your idiot friend’s justification and would much rather feel sorry for yourself than to consider prom as a legitimate date. You’re what, nearly into your twenties now and have gone this long without a guy properly asking you out on a date, maybe a movie and eating dinner at a nice restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers next to you, and ending the night with a kiss? The thought of your inadvertent abstinence made you want to chug a bottle of something strong.

“Do we still have that bottle of wine lying around?” you muttered, searching every corner of the kitchen. “Aha! Found it.”

“Mm, pizza and old wine. How are you single again? You’re so classy.”

“Do you want a glass or not?”

“… Hand it over.”

So another night was spent drinking and drowning your sorrows away while Minho watched - what else was new? Before, he didn’t think much of these nights, considering they were spent with Changbin also who drank just as much as you did, but Minho hadn’t even finished his first glass yet when you were already pouring your third. You must have been really going through it.

“Ok, I think that’s enough,” Minho scolded, taking the glass away. Clumsily and lazily, you reached out to take it back, but your state of mind was too loopy for you to fight back further. God, your tolerance had gone down significantly as time passed. Was this indication that you were getting old?

“Is this how you’re going to act on your first date at dinner while having several glasses of wine?” the mean boy across teased. “Good luck with that.”

“That’s ok, I’m never going on a first date, anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because who would want to date me?”

“Hey.”

Your eyes are droopy and you feel like you could pass out from the drowsiness of the wine at any second, but Minho’s hand on top of yours snaps you awake. There were plenty of ways you and Minho shared skinship, like hugging, wrestling, high-fiving, and punching each other, but hand-holding was not one of them. It was… weird. You know when cats sometimes put their tiny paws on top of human hands? This was what it reminded you of and you had to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t say that stuff about yourself, only I can do that.”

“Well, there has to be a reason why I haven’t been on a date yet. It’s because I’m unlovable, right? Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was on a real date. Like what do we talk about? The weather? That’s what adults talk about, right?”

“Yeah, if you work a nine-to-five at an accounting firm. You really are kind of hopeless, aren’t you? That’s ok, you and I can practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, practice on me. Pretend you and I are on a date.” Minho left his seat across from you to steal Changbin’s seat that was to your right. The proximity of your bodies was so close that your knees knocked together, but your tipsy best friend was too distracted by your challenge to care. “A~and boom, we’re on a date.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Look, we got our glasses of wine on hand, some dinner, we could even watch a movie if you want. But first thing’s first, we gotta test out your communication skills. What kind of things would you ask or talk about on your date?”

“I guess… What do you major in -?”

“Pause, red flag number one: never talk about school. Next question.”

“U-Uh, what kind of music do you like…?”

“Better. Let’s pretend that I’m some snobby older rich dude and I say, ‘oh, today’s music doesn’t interest me. I prefer classical music such as Bach and Beethoven, you know?’”

“I would never go on a date with someone so pompous and old.”

“Ok, but let’s say you’re dating this guy for money.”

“Minho!”

“At the rate this fake date is going, this is what your future dates are going to look like, _____! I’m just helping you prepare!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… you’re so right. I’m gonna end up as a sugar baby and I’ll be too hyped up about the influx in my bank account that I’ll drop out of college and make this my career!”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that -”

“I can’t believe this is what all my hours in the library have amounted to! Screw good grades, if I can’t find love, then what’s the point! This is it - this is how my life is really going to be like -!”

What Minho said goes in one ear and out the other as both of your hands are tangled in the mess of your hair and your blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. You were making a huge deal out of this fake date but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make a huge deal out of nothing! If this was how you were on a fake date, Minho doesn’t want to know how you’d be on a real date.

The first thing you hear is his boyish laugh as he removed your hands from your head before you could tear out your hair. You look like you have a bird nest on both sides of your pouty face and even though Minho thought you were being ridiculous, you still looked cute regardless. His tiny but warm hands smoothen your messy strands before holding your face. It’s hard to look him in the eyes after your mini breakdown and he didn’t make it easier by the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Was he doing this on purpose because he liked to see you squirm? You didn’t think so when you finally looked up.

Minho didn’t have his signature sly smile where the corners of his lips curled like a cheshire cat. There was no teasing twinkle in his eyes that normally accompanied it, either. Both were softer, like he couldn’t understand why someone as charming, intelligent, and hilarious as you could constantly worry about finding someone who would love you back. How could someone not, when you had the stars in your eyes after spotting a dog across the street, when you could sing an entire concert setlist in the shower, or when you had the cute sad look on your face after you burned your third pancake? Even now, in your tipsy and sad state, your eyes still sparkled and begged to be loved - exactly like all the cute puppies you spotted on your walks with Minho. The thought of someone NOT falling head over heels for you sounded completely ridiculous.

Before his heart could drop to the pit of his stomach, Minho broke the intimacy by squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips puckered like a fish.

“Stop being so sad,” he said sternly.

“Just like that, the sadness is gone,” you sputtered sarcastically, careful not to spit in Minho’s eye.

“I mean it. You’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. No, you’ll find someone who loves you more.”

“How do you know…?”

“Because I’m Lee Know, remember?”

His cocky smirk returned and the corners of his lips curled adoringly. It was a smile you were more accustomed to and you’d never admit it aloud, but you liked this one much better. Soft Minho was kind of gross.

“You’re intelligent, selfless, sometimes funny, and life would be so exciting to be in love with you. I promise you’ll find someone.”

“… Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow, I put so much heart into my speech and that’s all you got out of it!? That I didn’t call you pretty!?”

“All of that doesn’t matter if I’m not cute.”

Minho squeezed your cheeks a bit harder. “Nevermind, you’re hopeless.”

“Ow ok, I’m kidding! Can you let go of my face now!? You know I bruise easily!”

He released his hold on your face and you tried to circulate the blood that pooled up. Minho usually wasn’t good with these types of talks, but something must have changed after high school. What kind of classes was he taking that he was being so poetic to the point that your heart felt like it was fluttering? Must be the bit of wine left in your bloodstream.

Even so, you were thankful. What would you do without your handsome Prince?

“I guess I’ll try to sleep the hopelessness away,” you sighed. Before heading off to your room, you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend’s neck from behind and pressed your rosy cheek to his own. Normally, he’d let out a grossed-out groan, but tonight he returned the gesture with his hands on top of yours. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His chest ached. “Mhm. Love you, too, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, my Prince. Don’t stay up too late.”

The sound of your door closing triggered an empty silence in the entire apartment. Not a single sound is heard other than Minho’s beating heart that felt like it was blasting in his ears. Now he’s alone sitting at the dining table, downing the last of his wine and all he could think about was your lack of presence and how it lingered casually all around him. He could still feel your cheeks in his hands, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and the way the warmth of your cheek heated up his own. That wasn’t enough - he wanted more of you, but that was for a later time even he couldn’t predict. After cleaning up the table and trying to leave those moments in the dining room, they ended up following him to his bed until he was too tired to stay awake thinking about them.

That night, you ended up dreaming about Prince Minho and what it was like to be by his side forever.

It didn’t seem so bad.

There’s this crazy phenomenon that happened to you too many times to count, but this time had to take the cake. There were times when you’d have dreams about not necessarily random people, but people you didn’t normally associate yourself with. Like an old coworker, or a past partner for that one single assignment, or even that one time the guy next to you asked you to borrow a pencil for an exam. They would appear in your dreams at random with no purpose other than to play as your boyfriend, but the morning you wake up, you had this sudden weird… attraction towards them.

Maybe attraction wasn’t exactly the right word, but the moment they stepped into the room, you could feel your face heat up and your palms sweat and it really made you question your type in men because why was your body reacting so sensitively to seeing someone who literally just asked you for a pencil? Maybe this was why you’ve been single for so long…

Now let it be reminded that you’re having these weird, little crushes on guys you practically considered strangers. But now, for the first time in your entire life - in all your years knowing that stupid, handsome idiot, you had your very first dream about Minho. If you acted like a fool in front of strangers, how did you act around your best friend? Let’s just say you didn’t know how to act… or rather, you did what you do best - make things like ten times more awkward than they should be.

What did you do when Minho woke up in the morning with his stupidly cute bedhead and flopped on the couch next to you muttering a soft and gentle ‘good morning ~’? You got up and ran to your room after returning the greeting with a squeaky voice. What did you do when he would wrap his arm around your shoulder in that sly, boyish way that literally meant nothing? You’d run to the bathroom, whether you were at home or out in public.

And what did you do when he would walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist? You literally ran. You went to your room, put on your workout gear, and you ran - ran as far as your legs could take you with your ears blasting music to drown out any thoughts about your best FRIEND.

With his heart sinking, Minho didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, have you seen _____ these past few days?” he asked Changbin sometime around dinner. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand and he made sure he gave himself enough time to ask Changbin for his opinion before you came home.

“Yeah…? I see her like everyday. She lives here, too, you know.”

“I know, but she seems a little distant lately, right?”

“Mm, not with me,” the buff boy shrugged casually. His once unquestioning expression quickly turned into something sly when he realized what kind of situation Minho was in. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“The last thing we did together for more than five minutes was eat pizza and drink wine and that was last week.”

“Did anything happen after drinking wine? We all know how you get when you drink…”

“Mm… she was moping about how she’s never going to go on a date, or something, and then I told her she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Why doesn’t she have to worry?”

It was then that Minho figured maybe this was the reason why you were avoiding him. Shyly, the older boy avoided the teasing gaze from his close friend. “N-No reason.”

“Is it because you told her how wonderful she is? Or how funny, and smart, and how all men were idiots for not falling head over heels for her ~?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you called her pretty, too.”

“Ok, she made me say that!”

“God, no wonder she’s avoiding you! You probably made her fall head over heels for you, or something!”

“… You really think so?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful at the idea.

Thankfully, Changbin didn’t seem to catch it. “If I heard that kind of corny stuff coming from you, I’d react the same way, to be honest.”

The sound of the door unlocking made both boys jump and quickly drop the subject, but not without Changbin shooting Minho a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance that reminded him of his dad whenever he got in trouble. For the first time that week, you didn’t sprint to your room right away. Rather, with a cheeky grin on your lips, you joined the two boys who eyed you suspiciously at the dining table.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Nice to finally see you for more than five minutes,” Minho pouted childishly.

“Aw, you miss me ~?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Why are you so smiley, missy?” the smaller, more suspicious boy squinted.

“I can’t be happy on this fine Thursday?”

“No.”

“Fine, you downer. I’m super stoked because guess who has a date tomorrow ~?”

A short silence fell at the table. The first ten seconds of silence was so the two idiots could process what you just said. The following ten seconds was just a series of different ugly facial expressions from thinking about the question too hard.

“Did Seungmin finally ask that one person out? He’s been talking about it for months, he won’t shut up,” Changbin asked.

“No, not him…”

“Woojin? He’s not really the dating type, though.”

“No, idiot, me! I have a date tomorrow!”

“With who?” Minho finally asked. Of course he knew you were the one with the date, but he didn’t want to believe it until you said it. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter after you told him who it was.

“This guy named Wooyoung in one of my classes. We worked on a project together sometime last year and I just found him in lecture the other day. Small campus, huh? We caught up this past week and he asked me out just now after walking me home. Ah, I can’t believe it!”

Your smile was bright and so big that Minho could hardly see your eyes. He couldn’t recall a time when you were this excited for something since you and him both got accepted to this school. He was happy to see you like this, despite the circumstances. With your eyes all sparkly and cheeks blushed pink, the bit of aching was worth it.

“Oh, I know Wooyoung!” Changbin had a goofy smile when he saw how disappointed you looked. “His dad and my dad are close friends and we got close by coincidence.”

“Aw man, you know him!? I wanted to date someone not within this weird circle of friends!”

“He’s not! He’s like a little bubble outside of the circle.”

“Whatever… he’s nice and rich, at least.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie. Minho, what do you think?”

“Hm?” You raised a curious brow at your spacey friend. Minho had been in his own little world after blocking out the details of how you ended up with a date tomorrow night. He put on a fake smile so you wouldn’t have to worry. “I don’t know Wooyoung, but I’m happy for you.”

“I’m kind of scared… what if I blow it like our fake date?”

“Good thing it was fake, right?” The handsome boy across from you ruffled your hair into a bird’s nest style - much like how it was last week. You were a mess, but you were his pretty little mess. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung may be rich, but his standards aren’t that high - ow! What the hell, dude!” he whined, rubbing his bruising shin.

“You two are so mediocre when it comes to these pep talks… but thank you. I’m so excited that my cheeks hurt because I can’t stop smiling!”

Minho watched you hide your heated face in your hands. He hoped you’d smile like this for a long time, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it.

If the boys were allowed a collective three hours in the bathroom nearly every damn morning, you were allowed three hours to yourself once this evening. You practically put on a spa for yourself in preparation for this. Every centimeter of your body was exfoliated and moisturized, every strand of hair fixed in its place, and every eyelash was coated with mascara. Not to mention that your outfit didn’t have a single wrinkle to be seen.

“Not gonna lie, you look pretty decent,” Changbin admitted while leaning on the doorframe. “Expecting some dessert tonight, if you know what I mean?”

“You think I’ll let it go that far on my very first date? Who do you think I am!”

“A touch-starved damsel.”

“… Shut up.” At 7:00 pm on the dot, you received a text from Wooyoung that he’s here. “Ah, gotta go!”

Like you would on a Monday morning already late for class, you shoved all of your essentials in a bag and scurried for the door, but not before Minho came out of his room and caught you. After putting on your nice shoes, you finally looked up to stare back at your wide-eyed, jaw-dropped friend. The only other time he ever looked at you like that was prom night, and even though you were glammed up times ten that night, his face tonight was more intense. The sudden waves of confusion and erratic heartbeat skips reminded you of why you accepted to go on the date so quickly in the first place: to get rid of these weird feelings for your best friend that you couldn’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whined. “Too much? Or too little?”

Perfect. “No, no. You look fine.”

“Really?”

“I promise. You got everything you need?”

“Uh, wallet, keys, phone…”

“Condom?”

“Minho!!”

“Just kidding! Be sure to practice abstinence because I’m not letting some guy come into our apartment just so you can do THAT.”

“Don’t worry, he has his own place.” He knew you were joking… kind of… you were joking, right…? “I’m kidding.”

“You better be… Don’t forget, curfew’s at 9:00 pm.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at 2:00 am ~!”

You did a final wave goodbye before heading out the door to forget all about Minho while he was stuck being a boring homebody. He heard his other, more irritating roommate tisk annoyingly from across the room.

“Shoulda said something ~” Changbin sang.

“What is there to say?”

“Baby, don’t leave! Why go out with a boy when you can go out with a MAN like me?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t really sound like that, do I?”

“Only sometimes.”

So while you were off on your date, smiling at him like no one else in the world could matter more, Minho would glue his ass to the couch and wait for you to come home.

Your first date was both exactly and the complete opposite of how you expected it to be - quite awkward, but it gradually melted into something you would best describe as comfortable. It didn’t feel very date-like. It felt more like you were eating dinner with a very handsome friend. You could easily see why all of your friends were jealous that you were on this date. Wooyoung was so easy to talk to and just his stare alone, he could get anyone to fall in love with him just like that.

A moment like this, when he’s laughing at your corny joke or fixing a loose strand of hair, was when you truly wished cupid would shoot a thousand arrows into your heart at one time with Wooyoung’s name on the heart-shaped head. That itself would solve about 75 percent of your problems. But it was too late, for your heart already had a hundred thousand arrows lodged in with no way of taking them out, and every single one had Minho’s stupid name on them.

Your date ended earlier than expected which was a little after midnight when his friend San called him in some party-related emergency. Of course you understood, as you’ve experienced being that friend one too many times, and he bid you a farewell with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“I’d love that!” Though it probably wasn’t going to happen.

During the walk home, you took the time to reflect on everything that went wrong tonight. Fifteen minutes in, and you couldn’t figure out why your heart didn’t beat for Wooyoung. Passers-by gave you a strange look as you passed because of how your face twisted in confusion, but they went unnoticed because now you actually had to deal with your feelings for Minho straight on.

When did this all start exactly? Like when did the first arrow lodge itself in your right ventricle? Was it in middle school when he stopped those bullies? Was it during your last year in high school when he hugged you so tight, crying tears of joy when the team won the championship basketball game? Maybe it was during your first college party when he held your hair up while you puked into the toilet, but you knew there was no way this all happened because of one silly dream… Maybe your feelings were there all along.

The saying goes when it rains, it pours, right? Tonight, that phrase is both hypothetical and literal.

In a matter of seconds, the skies cried heavily with no thunder or lightning to be heard or seen. On this warm night alone, you were getting soaked to the bone with little-to-no-coverage. You didn’t pack an umbrella and for some reason, even the store awnings couldn’t give you shelter very well, so your only option was to take off your pretty much-ruined nice shoes and sprint home barefoot and that’s exactly what you did.

Minho liked the rain. It was calming, but only added to the lonely ambiance on this fine Friday evening. From inside, he watched the city glow different colors as the light reflected off of the rain droplets and this was when he thought the city looked the most beautiful. He could fall asleep at any moment just to the sound of the rain.

Minho’s apartment is so high up that it’s difficult to see the details in in peoples’ faces and clothes as they walked the streets, but it was easy to spot the little speck running towards his building a couple of blocks away. No one else for blocks on end could be seen other than the tiny speck running. He didn’t have to see your face to know that it was you running home because you didn’t have an umbrella. Not that he’s not happy to see you home, but why were you here so early? And alone, for that matter? Did that Wooyoung guy ditch you?

“Idiot,” Minho mumbled grumpily before grabbing his umbrella and making his way to you.

By the time he reached the lobby, he thought he’d see you inside by now, but that wasn’t the case and he was starting to get a little worried. He didn’t waste time running out the building and immediately he spotted you taking a breather under the big coffee shop awning. You’re completely soaked as if you took a dip in the ocean, strands of hair clinging to your rosy cheeks, and your shoes in your hand…? You’re barefoot, feet all cut up and a little bruised. Without looking at your face, a stranger could say that you were having a bad night, but even Minho knew that wasn’t exactly the case. You didn’t look disappointed or anything near that.

You must have enjoyed the date.

A huge shadow blocked the streetlight from your body and a pair of Minho’s beat up dance shoes are in your eyesight. Tiredly, but happily, you look up to a stern-faced crush who held an umbrella over his head.

“‘Sup,” you greeted casually.

“Let’s go, you’re gonna get sick,” he muttered.

Neither of you said a word until you reached your shared home, and Minho didn’t bother to give you a second glance until then, too. After carelessly tossing his umbrella near the pile of shoes, he found his spot on the couch again.

“You should shower.”

“Right…”

Still, he didn’t give you the time of day, and it hurts. From your cut-up feet to your pounding headache, everything just hurts, and your entire body was ready to crawl under your sheets and call it a night. But you obeyed, taking a long, hot shower to wash away all the wrongs that happened tonight.

When you were done, Minho had a first-aid kit ready in his hands. He didn’t seem as angry as earlier - now he just looked worried.

“Sit,” he commanded nicely.

Of course you obeyed like a misbehaved puppy walking to its cage. Nervously, you sat on the couch while Minho sat on the floor. Before you could ask what he was doing, he had already grabbed one foot to inspect for major cuts.

“You don’t need to do that - ah, hey!” The concerned boy wasn’t listening when he dabbed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant over a single super small cut on your foot… that was bleeding… a lot. “That stings, bro!”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now sit still.” He put a tiny bandaid over the clean cut and when he thought he was all finished, he held both of your ankles in his hand. “Why is one bigger than the other? Is it swollen?”

“I may have tripped once… or twice…”

An aggravated sigh left Minho’s pink lips before he grabs the bandage to wrap around your swollen ankle. After neatly wrapping around once, the rest of the wrapping was done by yanking the bandage until you felt the blood flow cut off at that point.

“Ow ow!! Chill, Minho, you’re hurting more than helping!”

After realizing what he’d been doing, Minho halted, muttering a soft ‘sorry’ before re-wrapping your ankle with more love and care.

“Why were you alone tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why wasn’t your date walking you home like he should? Doesn’t he know it’s common courtesy to do so?”

“Ah, well he had an emergency to attend to.”

“Still… He just left you to run home in the rain, and look what happened. Also, why the hell were your shoes off!?”

“I didn’t want to ruin them…”

The inside of his cheek was starting to numb from all the inherent chewing. At this point, Minho was tired, and you probably were, too. What was the point in arguing?

“Don’t date that guy,” he demanded.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be dating someone who leaves you in the middle of a date. Was it even a real emergency?”

“It was at the end of a date. But no, not a REAL real emergency…”

“Still, he left you, and look how you ended up.” Another sigh left his lips. “I don’t like him, _____.”

“I know.” When Minho finally looked up, he saw that you were smiling at him. You’re not angry or upset by the way he was acting, and he’s really surprised. What was going through your mind? “You don’t have to worry. I don’t think there’s going to be another date.”

Good. “How come?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that ‘I can’t wait to see you again’ type of feeling like I thought I would. I guess I wasn’t that into him.”

The shy boy below you cleared his throat hoping you wouldn’t see how relieved he was. “Oh, that’s good.”

“What happened to you wanting me to be happy with some guy?” you teased, lightly kicking his arm.

“I still do. Just not with him.”

“Mm. Maybe the next one will work out better.”

“Yeah… the next one.”

Minho finished wrapping up your ankle and went to stash the first aid kit in his room. You happily followed your confidant slash magical healer and he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hid his growing smile so you wouldn’t see.

“I had a weird dream last night,” you said after flopping on his king-sized mattress.

“Tell me about it.”

“You were in it as a Prince.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound so weird to me.”

“I was right beside you the whole time.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Minho hopped on right beside you and the two of you laid side-by-side as you told your fairytale. “Were you my Princess? My sidepiece mistress? The cook’s daughter I fell in love with? Oh, or were we betrothed to unite two kingdoms together?”

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“God is in the details, baby. What else happened?”

“That’s all I could remember. You were a Prince who smiled everyday and I was right there the whole time.”

“I probably smiled all the time ‘cuz you were next to me.”

To play it off as playful, the boy only a couple centimeters beside you nudged you several times. It was hard for him to keep up the facade when you said,

“I was probably next to you the whole time because of your smile.”

Now what was he to do? Subconsciously, Minho turned on his side to face you. With your cheeks and the tip of your nose a baby pink, you refused to look at him. Maybe you were getting sick.

“What, you like my smile, or something?”

“Have I ever told you it makes me feel safe?”

“Safe? Why?”

“It lets me know I have nothing to worry about - that I’m going to be just fine.”

The ceiling must have been very interesting. You have yet to look at him and though he wanted you to, he hopes you don’t, otherwise the magnetic pull between your lips might be too strong for him to resist. He wondered what you tasted like.

“I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

The world felt at peace again when he returned to his position on his back. As if the roof did not exist above, the two of you laid on his bed and pretended to count the stars. Minho’s hand blindly found its way to yours and the tiny bumps and touches of his fingertips made goosebumps travel up your arms. The handsome, confusing boy traced tiny stars in the back of your hand.

“Did you like your dream?” he finally asked.

“You mean did I like being stuck with you for eternity?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His shy giggle filled the empty spaces of his room, and yours soon followed.

“Neither would I.”

An eternity together wouldn’t be so bad.

The spot beside you on Minho’s bed felt empty. You must have knocked out the night before, too tired to crawl back to your cave of a room, and ended up sleeping next to him the whole night. Either last night’s date was exhausting or you didn’t want to leave Minho or his bed because you slept in so late that he had already got up for the day.

Changbin was eating cereal in front of the television when you finally left the room.

“Whoa, what the hell,” he smirked, not knowing that’s where you slept last night. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, idiot. We were talking and we fell asleep. Where is he, anyways?”

“Either at the gym or running errands or both.”

“Ah, ok…” If you knew Minho like you thought you did, then maybe he’s at the gym, but running errands? The hell kind of errands did he have? You were the one who ran all the house-related errands.

“You goin’ out tonight?”

“Can’t. Huge paper I have to work on.”

“C'mon, it’s Jeongin’s birthday! And Minho’s going ~”

Your cheeks burned from his teasing. “So? I’ll literally fail if I don’t get a good grade on this assignment.”

“Fine, you bookworm…”

So that’s what you did - you became a homebody for the day and hermitted in your room to work on that cursed paper. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was going out tonight with Minho. If you went, would you stick by his side the whole time? Would he drag you to the dance floor and hold you close? Would the alcohol take over and close the gap between your lips?

Let’s pretend the answer was yes to all of the above.

You didn’t see him for the entire day. Not for lunch, or dinner, or when he finally came home and hopped in the shower, or when he got ready in ten minutes, or even when he and Changbin left for the party. No texts or calls, either.

He was avoiding you at all costs.

Ugh, dammit, _____! Why did you sleep in his bed last night!? Ok, to be completely fair, he was sending you mixed signals that everything was fine, you know? He smiled after you told him how it made you feel safe, those little touches and whispers, literally agreeing to how life beside each other 'til you both grew old and wrinkly would be ideal… Why would you want to leave his side on the bed after all of that?

Boys were confusing, you knew that. Maybe you just misread the signs.

Minho felt like his heart was collapsing. Waking up beside you made this morning the best he’s ever had. You were so sleepy and so cute… All he wanted to do was press little kisses all on your forehead.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You just happened to fall asleep here with no real purpose. It’s not like he was going to wake you up and tell you to move? But did that make him selfish for wanting you to stay when you didn’t intend to? Maybe, so that’s why he had to slip out of the apartment before you woke up.

In the morning, he ran for a couple of hours. Then he went to lift weights. Then he ate and wasted time around town until it was time to get ready for Jeongin’s birthday. Nothing he did made it easier for him to forget about you and the night before. He’ll just use this opportunity of free booze to help him with that.

After successfully slipping in to get ready and out for a night of festivities, he thought that avoiding you for the whole day only made him miss you more.

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid tonight, are you?” Changbin asked.

“No promises.”

Well, no promises was right, because as soon as the two stepped into Chan’s place, Minho weaved his way through the crowd of strangers and went straight for the alcohol table. There, Chan was serving the jungle juice.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted them, but his grin dropped when he saw the distressed look on Minho’s face. “Yikes, rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Changbin answered for him while he chugged the sweet drink.

He held the solo cup out to his concerned friend. “More.”

“Uh-oh…” Chan didn’t disobey.

For a while, Minho was fine on his own while Changbin was off doing God knows what to some poor soul. He socialized here and there, greeted the totally incoherent birthday boy, and even flirted his way around for the sake of distraction. When something new didn’t seem to work, he’d down another shot, and by the time it was 2:00 am, Minho could barely stand on his own.

“Oh, son of a - are you kidding me!?” Changbin groaned after seeing his poor roommate passed out on Chan’s couch.

“Should I call an Uber…?” Jisung asked.

“Nah, I have a cheaper solution.”

At 2:03 am, while you were munching on some chips and crying to some Miyazaki movie, Changbin’s name lit up your phone.

“Yo.”

“How much do you love your roommates?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four and a half.”

“Can you cash in that four and a half and pick us up from Chan’s place ~?” the whiny boy begged. “Minho is being insufferable! He keeps drinking everything in site!”

That did not sound good… Minho got very, uh, unbearable when he wasn’t himself. You felt your headache come back and your blood pressure fly through the roof.

“But I don’t have a car.”

“The keys to the Audi are hanging by the door.”

“What the - he has a car!?”

“No, his uncle has a car. Just don’t tell him we’re using it. Hurry, before he gets outta hand - NO, DON’T LET HIM DRINK THAT -!!”

The line cut out and the dial tone rang in your ears for a solid five seconds before you could process what Changbin was asking of you. So you were supposed to grab the keys to an expensive Audi, drive to Chan’s house, pick up your incompetent roommates, and somehow end up back home alive? Well, all right…

The key to the car wasn’t actually a key… It was just a remote. The car was hidden in the corner of the underground garage and if you weren’t being careful, someone could honestly kidnap you at any moment and no trace of the kidnapping would be seen. The Audi was very beautiful, all white and shiny like it was brand new. The interior was pitch black with red stitching, tons of fancy buttons normal cars didn’t really have, and a button for the ignition. You prayed to whatever Lord was listening that it was Automatic because you had zero idea how to handle Manual.

The drive wasn’t that far, but it was far for a walk, so no wonder Changbin called you for assistance. After texting him that his personal, beautiful Uber driver had arrived, you were left with your erratic thoughts about how you were going to handle seeing Minho for the first time since last night. Would it be awkward? Maybe on your end because you were sober enough to remember everything, but maybe his drunken state would ease up the atmosphere.

Your love life sucked. Your crushes never worked out in the end, your first date ended up mediocre, and now you fell for your best friend. You were in denial for the most part, thinking that maybe this was just a coping mechanism for all your failures and that Minho was the only real man to ever care about you, so of course you fell for someone like him. But that wasn’t it, was it? Minho wasn’t made to be your security blanket when all else failed. Maybe all else failed because he was the one all along. Fate always had a weird way of playing with you.

A loud thump in the back seat shook you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, he’s very heavy and I got tired,” Changbin said as he sat in the front seat.

Looking back, you saw a passed out Minho curled up on the seats.

“Jeez, that kind of night, huh?” Did you do that to him…? Was this because of last night…?

“Yeah… you wouldn’t believe the shit he was saying -”

“_____, is that you?” he asked cutely.

“Hey there,” you giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“I miss you ~”

“Huh?”

“Bro, he would not shut up the entire night! _____ this, _____ that, I was honestly so happy that he passed out on the couch because for those ten minutes, I could hear my own thoughts again. Can you two figure out whatever sexual tension you guys are having -”

“Changbin!”

“What!? I’m tired of living with you two!”

“Move out then!”

“No way, I was there first!!”

“Stop yelling,” the poor, drunk boy whined, moving up so his face was in between yours and a pouty Changbin. Minho turned to you all giggly and smiley like a kid in a candy shop and poked your cheek. “I miss you ~”

Of course you did, too. “I miss you, too, dork.”

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home, I’m sleepy.” And he was out like a light once more.

“What the hell…”

“Chan’s jungle juice, man. It’s magical,” Changbin tisked.

It took two small adults to carry one Minho all the way from the parking lot, to the lobby, to the elevator, and then finally to the door. You’d think with all the working out Changbin did that he could handle the unconscious boy all on his own, but Minho was very muscley… A lot more than you remembered. From supporting his back and abs and having his arm around your shoulder, you could feel every crevice of his taut muscles that you should definitely not be thinking about at a time like this. He was fine to support himself by the time the door opened, and Changbin happily let go of him to go to the bathroom, something about ‘needing to piss really bad.’

Before you could fathom that you were left alone with a loosey goosey Minho, he had already grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t escape, but it wasn’t like you were going to, anyways. With his cheek resting on your forehead, you felt safe.

“I miss you ~” he repeated in his sing-songy voice.

“What are you doing?” you muffled into his chest.

“Showing and telling you how much I love you.”

“Wait, what -”

“In fact, let me show and tell the whole world!”

How Minho was able to run to the balcony and not trip and fall flat on his face was a mystery to you. The weird boy literally swung open the door and breathed in the fresh air before screaming into the night,

“I LOVE _____!”

Still inside, feet glued to where Minho first told you he sincerely loves you, you were shocked as the man you loved screamed at the top of his lungs to the city below.

“I LOVE YOU ~!” he screamed once more.

“Oh, my God.”

You sighed tiredly, though your growing smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Reluctantly, you made your way to the balcony to bring in the boy you loved before he lost his voice. After screaming a couple more times, he tuckered himself out and leaned over the edge of the railing.

“You’re going to fall!” you lectured, pulling him back up. That was a bit of a mistake on your end though, because now he used you as his means of support and coddled you tightly like you were his own personal teddy bear.

“I love you, _____,” he said perfectly like there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in his system.

“Minho, you’re drunk.”

He held you tighter. “Do you wanna hear a story? It’s called ‘The Day I Fell for You’.”

“Ok. Tell me all about it.”

“You were in art class and it was the pottery unit. You absolutely hated the mug you made, but I loved it. I told you to submit it for the art exhibit anyways. The following week at exhibition night, you won second place for the best pottery piece. When you went up to get your ribbon in front of all our other classmates and their parents, you only looked at me. You had the brightest smile on your face, and when I gave you a thumbs up, you glowed even brighter. I didn’t think that was even possible. Then when the awards were over, you ran up to me and hugged me so tight. Just like this. And my heart was beating so fast! Just like now, too. I never wanted to let you go, you know? And then when you let me keep your mug, it was all over from there.”

Ah, you remember that story perfectly, even if it was so long ago. Minho made you feel like you could fly without wings.

He hummed happily, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. “It’s my favorite mug. I drink coffee out of it every morning.”

“I know, I’m the one who washes it…”

“_____, what do I do ~?” He broke the hug and the heart-wrenching moment to hold your face and squish your cheeks so hard your lips would pout. “What do I do ~? I love you and I want to kiss you so badly!”

“Eh!?”

“Just one kiss,” he begged, puckering his lips playfully.

“Ah, no, you weirdo!” you giggled, but you weren’t even fighting back.

“Just one, I promise.”

Before you could fake-object, his lips barely touched yours for a split second. They were soft, sent goosebumps all over your skin, and made sparks fly.

He giggled softly before leaning in again. “Ok, one more.”

“You said just one!”

“I got a taste and now I want more. This is your fault.”

“You sound like an addict.”

“Only for you, baby.”

So he kissed you once more. And again. And again. And then again for the tenth time. The eleventh time he made the kiss last a little longer. The fifteenth time was a kiss on your nose. The sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth were for your cheeks twice. The twentieth and the last was on your forehead, making your heart flutter like a little hummingbird.

"You taste like punch and tequila,” you gagged.

“Do you like it ~?”

“No!”

“Do you like me ~?”

“Only sometimes. But I guess I love you all other times. Luckily, you probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

There’s a short silence afterwards, only the sounds of the wind blowing could be heard as Minho continued to hold you. “Loving me means you can’t get mad at me, right?”

“It means I’ll probably get mad at you more frequently. Why, what did you do…?”

“Nothing, I swear! I’m just… not as drunk as you think I am anymore…”

“Ah, so you’ll remember this in the morning…”

“Absolutely. If you rejected my screaming confession though, I would have still pretended to be drunk. Isn’t my plan so smart? I’m a genius, bro.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say genius,” you teased.

“Whatever, you admitted you love me, that’s all that matters.”

“I only said it 'cuz you said it first. If you didn’t, I would have kept it to myself.”

“But why ~?”

“You left me this morning. I thought telling you my dream was a huge mistake and I scared you away.”

Your loving boy pressed a twenty-first kiss to your forehead. “I was scared, but not because of that. I was scared you would leave everything at that and wouldn’t think of me as anything but a friend.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m an emotional man, ok.”

“I know ~” you sighed happily. The night air was crisp and cool, but Minho kept you warm, as he always did. He was always there whenever you need him. “I love you, you know that?”

Minho took a long and dramatic breath in, pressing his expanding chest to yours and you kind of regret tell him you love him because from the top of his lungs, he screamed,

“I LOVE YOU!!”

“Minho, shut up!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, _____!!”

The rest of the night until the following morning was spent with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around you. The only time he ever let you go was when you burned the pancakes and needed his help making more.

Minho, the dorky, annoying, loving, sweet, dumbass of a friend was now YOUR dorky, annoying, loving, sweet dumbass.

He wasn’t so bad.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Eighteen | Cheating ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Fubuki ] [ Verse: Into the Abyss ]

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Retirement, as he likes to call it, has been far too kind to him.

Sure, working for Konoha for a pittance of pay isn’t easy. In the literal sense, sure. He’s accomplished far more with far less. He’s Uchiha Obito, near-conqueror of the world. But it’s still tenuous, time-consuming, boring, and a blow to his pride. To go from a major warlord pulling the strings of multiple nations to a village errand boy is a difficult pill to swallow.

But he does it for two reasons. One is a genuine guilt for his actions, and a wish to make up as much as he can before he perishes. A want to better a world he had so much hand in harming.

And the second, well…

“Obito!”

He’s currently baking in the Autumn sun on an oddly warm day. With a want to remain as covered as he can to keep his zetsu half hidden, he hasn’t consented to even rolling up his sleeves despite the heat, and his labor. The leaves are falling in Konoha, and...well, he’s been tasked with helping to clean them up.

In the village’s largest park.

Which has more trees than he can count of no small size.

He’s already gone through the canteen of water he took with him, skin shining with sweat. Ugh, he’s so horribly out of shape...the months in prison and then house arrest with Kakashi have not been kind to him. Let alone all his time recovering from the bijū being ripped from him. Regaining his lost mass and strength is taking time he didn’t know he’d need.

All in all...he’s miserable.

But that one word - that name, those three syllables - pronounced by that tongue immediately lifts his spirits.

Brightening, he turns, rake still in hand, to see Ryū crossing to him. Unlike him, she has a day off today, free of the hospital until her next shift tomorrow. But instead, it seems she’s decided to check on him.

“Kakashi told me where to find you,” she offers as she approaches, a bag slung over her shoulder. “You poor thing, you must be so warm…!”

Obito finds himself a bit bashful at her fussing. “I’m all right.”

The look she gives him makes it clear: she knows he’s fibbing. “Well...either way, I brought you something. Come sit down.”

“But -?”

“If the ANBU watching you have a problem, they can take it up with me,” she sniffs. “You clearly need a break or you’re going to pass out. There’s a bench right here. Sit.” Grinning, she adds, “Doctor's orders, ne?”

That earns a breathy chuckle. “All right, all right…” He takes the tool with him, leaning it nearby and sitting with a sigh. From here, he can see all the piles he’s raked, yet to be moved to the community compost heap for the farms outside the village walls.

...he’s raked a lot of leaves today.

“Okay first...here…” She pulls a new canteen out, and Obito unabashedly snatches it, unscrewing the cap and chugging. “Slow down, you’ll give yourself a bellyache!”

His Adam’s apple bobs a few more times before surfacing for a breath. “Sorry...I really needed that.”

Her eyes give a gentle roll. “Well...that’s why I brought two. Make the other one last, okay?”

“I will.”

Next, she pulls out a bento box, and Obito flushes red as his stomach gurgles.

Giggling behind a palm, she hands it over. “Here. I knew you’d be hungry.”

“You’re a literal angel.”

It’s her turn to go pink. “Well...I wanted to make sure you were prepared for today. It’s so darn hot, and this isn’t exactly a quick task…”

“Kakashi says I just need to go until sundown. If there’s stuff left, others are going to be hired for it. I just need to get the bulk of it done.”

As usual, the notion makes her scowl. But given they’ve had this conversation before, she withholds her reaction. “...well, I’ll have dinner ready by then, too. Just be sure to keep hydrated, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That earns him a look: mildly chastising, a bit weary, but mostly affectionate.

He loves that look.

He loves everything about her.

“Just take care of yourself, ne? I worry about you enough.”

“I know, I know...I’ll be careful.” But she’s not always around to keep the ANBU at bay and let him take a breather. Being stared at by a bunch of top-tier shinobi without access to his chakra or Sharingan makes him...uncomfortable. So he doesn’t try anything.

She gives him a once-over, looking for anything else to say before her eyes catch sight of his hands. They’re raw and blistered. “Obito!”

“What?”

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?!”

“I...don’t have -?”

Scowling again, she takes his hands (firmly, but gently) and starts healing them despite his protests. “I’m going to get you some gloves. Don’t rake another leaf until I get back.”

“Ryū -”

“And if any ANBU tell you otherwise, you tell them to talk to me.”

“Ryū, you -”

“Kakashi is going to get an earful for sending you out here without proper equipment.”

“Ryū!” He wants to grab her shoulders to stifle her, but...she’s got a very proper hold of his hands. “It’s fine. It’s my responsibility.”

“It’s not fine! It’s bad enough you’re doing these tasks, let alone that they’re hurting you.”

He sighs. “You’re babying me.”

“I am not.”

“...yes you are. I’m a grown man. Some hard work and blisters aren’t going to kill me.”

As the last of the marks fade, she doesn’t release his hands. A silence blooms, and he nearly breaks it. But then she speaks.

“...I don’t like seeing you hurt,” is her quiet reply. “...not after seeing what they did to you in prison. It drags up all those memories, and I just…”

With a sigh, Obito softens. “...I can say the same. It always makes me think of what Root did to you. But really, Ryū...I’m fine.”

Her lowered gaze lifts to his face. There’s still a trace of the soft, uncensored look she had when they first met. But it’s edged with the hardness she’s gained since then. “...I’m still getting you the gloves. You can get back to work in the meantime, but...I’ll be right back.”

“All right.”

He eats his bento, Ryū accepting the empty dish once he’s finished, and the drained canteens. But before she leaves, she lifts up to her toes and gives his forehead a gentle press of her lips.

“I’ll be right back.”

Not needing to reply, Obito watches her go. She’s fussy, and overprotective, and maybe a little immature at times.

But gods, he could never love anyone else the way he loves her.

Aware of the eyes on him, he gets back to raking, a scant few minutes passing before Ryū returns with a fine pair of soft leather gloves. They look expensive...but when he voices as much, she brushes the concern aside.

“They’re well-made, so they’ll last. You’re surely going to need them again after today. Consider it an investment, ne?”

He just nods, already thinking of ways to repay her.

“...now, I’ll leave you to it. See you when you get home.”

As it has since he deemed it safe to move in with her, his heart does a little flutter at the phrase. Home. It’s so odd. He hasn’t had a true, proper home in nearly two decades. But now he has not only that, but someone to come home to.

After losing Rin, he never would have imagined that.

“See you.” Watching her go, he feels a surge of motivation. Get this done...go home...have dinner with his beautiful partner...and get to sleep by her side.

It’s what keeps him going.

The day wanes slowly, sun slowly sinking toward the horizon as he powers through. Pile after pile after pile of leaves build up, and for the last hour, he starts hauling them, wheelbarrowful by wheelbarrowful, to the dumping grounds.

“Gee, sure would be a lot faster if I could make a few clones and had a few more wheelbarrows,” he muses aloud as he dumps another load of leaves, just to annoy the ANBU. “Think of how much more efficient I could be! I could have raked the whole park by now!”

He knows they’re glowering at him, but messing with them in any small ways he can is part of the fun. Obito is well aware he can’t use chakra, as are they.

But oh, the things he could do if he could…

While he and Kakashi both know he’s not about to go ballistic in the middle of Konoha now, there’s little convincing anyone else. So, he’s forced to deal with it. The Rokudaime had hinted there was a possibility of, after a great deal of good behavior, being given slow access to more and more of his ability. But it would be a long time before then, if ever.

So, Obito goes on about his duties as patiently as he can, awaiting a day he might regain just a sliver of his freedom.

Turning in his tools once the day is done, the park manager signs off on his paperwork and bids him goodbye. Turning in said paperwork to Kakashi, Obito receives the details for tomorrow’s assignment: repainting an old farmer’s barn outside the village walls. Wonderful. He’ll be outside Konoha, so even more ANBU than usual.

But...that’s for tomorrow’s Obito to deal with. Today’s Obito has a warm meal and an evening to look forward to first.

Ryū, as it so happens, is a wonderful cook. And an excellent baker. Ever since his release from prison, she’s been combining that knowledge with medical dietary expertise to help him regain his lost weight and muscle mass from then, and the last battle of the war. Supercharged meals with just the right nutrients to nurse him back from his weakened state.

...but there have been...temptations.

Obito, you see, has a devilishly strong sweet tooth. And as it so happens, Ryū does as well. Every so often she’ll make sweet little goodies, and despite his strict diet, she’ll allow him a bit to tide him over until he’s back to full health.

But the urge to cheat that diet is strong. It’s nutritious and delicious, but...well, a man can’t deny his fickle urges.

Arriving at the proper house, already filled with good memories and bad, Obito steps in with a quick, “Tadaima”, removing his shoes with a sigh.

“Okaeri! Still in the kitchen - almost done!”

“Sure smells good,” he offers in reply, stepping up into the house and inhaling deeply. Hearty, savory smells fill the air...as well as something sweet.

Oh no.

Carrying a dish, Ryū enters the dining room and sets it down. “Want to help me?”

“Of course.” He too ferries things from room to room until they’re ready to sit and eat. Seafood, vegetables, rice, and even some other meats are piled high onto his plate.

“So, how were your gloves?” Ryū asks, taking a bite.

“Good. A little stiff at first, but they broke right in. You’re right, they seem sturdy.”

“They’ll last a long time so long as you take care of them!”

He nods, trying to eat without just shoveling it into his mouth. He can’t help it with her cooking, let alone that he’s so damn hungry!

Ryū, able to tell as much, just watches him with a hint of amusement, fighting (and losing) against a smile. “So...did the rest of the day go okay?”

“Yeah. Hauled everything to compost. Made a good dent. Manager seemed happy with it.”

“Good! And tomorrow?”

“Painting an old barn for some older guy outside the wall. Won’t be difficult.”

“It’s not supposed to be nearly as hot tomorrow, so that will help.” Ryū heaves a small sigh. “Konoha’s just so darn warm…”

“It is...but you think you’d be used to it by now.”

At that, she snorts. “I was born and bred in the mountains! I’m not meant for a hot climate, ne?”

The rest of the meal passes before they tidy up, working together to do up the dishes and get everything put away...and then Ryū reveals what’s been tickling his nose with that sweet smell.

A batch of chocolate cookies.

“I figured you deserved a treat after today, ne? One for now, and I’ll put one in your bento for tomorrow.”

Obito stares at them rather intensely. Just one…? But he worked so hard today! Well...one is better than none. He looks them over before picking what he determines to be the largest one, even if they’re likely all the same size. And to make it last, he takes tiny nibbles while Ryū takes one for herself.

From there, it’s time to wind down for the evening. Obito bathes, Ryū also taking a turn before they snuggle up on the couch. By now, Obito’s day is starting to catch up with him, an ache forming in his shoulders and low back.

Ryū, ever vigilant, notices his wincing posture and starts easing at the muscles with her hands.

Immediately, Obito gives a satisfied groan, head bowing at her attentions.

“Poor thing,” she sympathizes. “We’ll get you feeling better, then we better go to bed. You’ve had a long day.”

“Mhm…” He’s only half listening, too focused on the feeling of her hands on his back.

A few last tasks before bed - brushing teeth, braiding hair - before they head up to the bedroom and change for the night. As soon as Ryū joins him beneath the covers, Obito snuggles right back up to her. After his stint in Konoha’s prison, intimacy is...difficult. But he’s still more than happy to touch as much of her with him that he can.

And Ryū is just as content with it as he is. “Mm...goodnight, koi. Get some rest.”

“Will do,” is his muffled reply, already starting to doze. Bed is so comfy, Ryū is so comfy...he’s full of good food, and tomorrow’s job shouldn’t be too difficult, so long as the old man isn’t ornery.

But after Ryū falls asleep, breath slow and steady, Obito is still awake.

He has a craving.

Glancing to her to ensure she really is out for the night, he then carefully disentangles himself, slipping out from under the blankets and tiptoeing toward the door. Down the stairs, around the corner, and into the kitchen where a porcelain jar sits.

Within...are the cookies.

Just one more won’t hurt. Just one! Sure, he’s still recovering, but...surely this isn’t going to hurt anyone, least of all him! It’s a reward for all his hard work today. Lifting the lid, he takes in the blooming scent of chocolate. Immediately, his mouth waters. Okay...eat a cookie, brush his teeth (again), and then slip back into bed without Ryū noticing.

It’s genius.

Plucking a treat from the pile inside the jar, he gives it an appreciative sniff. Then a bite crunches into the cookie, a hum of satisfaction quiet in the silence of the kitchen.

...and then he hears something.

Freezing, Obito listens to a very subtle click-clack, click-clack. What is that…? Turning, he looks through the door of the kitchen, but...doesn’t see anything. What is -?

“Did Ryū-sama give you permission for seconds?”

Half-choking on the cookie still in his mouth as he gasps, Obito tries to stifle a cough. Only once he can breathe does he spin back around to spy...Fubuki. Ryū’s haughty owl summon. “Gods, you scared the crap out of me!”

The sooty-spotted white owl just blinks at him, clearly not amused. “Did she not warn you about overindulging in sweets?”

He pouts back at her. “It’s just one cookie -”

“And she puts hours of effort into your meals to ensure you are meeting your dietary requirements...let alone the cost of all this fresh food for your sake.”

...is she guilt tripping him right now?

Feathers ruffle. “Do not usurp her efforts again.”

Obito just squints at her, watching her go, talons click-clacking along the floor. Why does this bird hate him so much?!

But...now he does feel guilty. He could put it back, but...he already took a bite. Ryū will know! He could hide it somewhere, but then what?

Frustrated, he puts it in a little container for her to use for his bento. She’ll know, but...at least he’ll be honest about it. Swishing out his mouth, he returns to bed, somehow not waking her.

Come morning, it’s Ryū who rises first. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she moves downstairs to get ready for work, and to prepare what Obito will need. There’s a pause as she spots the munched cookie.

“You were right. He came in.”

Turning, Ryū lets her summon alight upon her shoulder with a snort. “Did he, now?”

“But it seems my lecture was effective. He quickly gave up.”

“Well...thank you for your diligence, Fubuki. Ready to go out?” As the owl nods, Ryū takes her to the front door, letting her alight into the first sun of morning. Then onto her own business she goes, including putting together Obito’s bento. She puts in the cookie...and then after a moment of thought, puts in another.

He’s right. One cookie won’t hurt anyone.

     A healthy does of fluff! I’m...not keen on romantic cheating as a subject for personal reasons, so...Meg suggested this instead. And I loved it xD Poor Obito...just let the man have his darn cookie! He’s earned it!      Anyway, it’s...very late and I’m very tired so that’ll do it for tonight! Thanks for reading~

[faveficarchive]

Together

By Blue Dragon

Pairing: Mel/Janice

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Mel and Janice are on another dig with friends, and come to terms with the shifting nature of their relationship.

Staring out at the sun setting low on the desert horizon, Doctor Janice Covington pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of her jacket. This was her favorite time of day. The locals hired on to be diggers had all gone home, except for those few trustworthy enough for sentry duty, that is. The rest of the staff was either taking a breather before dinner or preparing for tomorrow's labors.

Hopefully, they'll get better, Janice thought as she lit her cigar. The day's labors were nothing to write home about.

It was the time of day where Janice was free to stand outside her tent in the meager shade, relax with a cigar and survey her kingdom.

Not that its much of a kingdom, she told herself, letting the thick smoke play in the air as she exhaled. But it will suffice. At least for now. She thought about that for a moment or two. "No, this is all I want. All I can handle." She muttered aloud. Looking around to see if anyone was in hearing distance, Janice chuckled. "Wonder if Gabrielle talked to herself. Guess I'll never know."

Janice relaxed after ascertaining that no one would be privy to this little habit she shared with both her father and mother. Thinking aloud was apparently a genetic trait. At least in her family. At least that was what her father told her. How could she know?

Shaking her head to free her mind of what ifs surrounding her family, she settled on contemplating the more recent past. Three months recent in fact. She grimaced at the memory of Ares and his "cursed" tomb. It had taken this long for the team to regroup, move the dig about two miles to the south, and get settled in. Surprisingly, the cover story they devised had worked and the crew was able to continue with their work unsupervised for at least the last month. The first two months had the Greek officials out to the sites every other day to make sure no more accidents occurred.

The cover story was that Smythe had held Janice, Melinda and Jack hostage in the tomb while his bullies searched it. Unfortunately, they didn't find anything. Also unfortunately, when one of the thugs opened a previously sealed door to another cavern, Smythe himself went to investigate. Too bad that the cavern was filled with natural gas and Smythe was a smoker. Apparently his cigarette caused a massive explosion. Janice, Mel, and Jack were barely able to escape with their lives. It was only fair, they were in a different part of the tomb after all and couldn't see what was going on.

The Greek officials said nothing condemning towards them. It wasn't their fault. These things happen. It was a risk in Archeology. Everyone knew that. They did warn Janice to be more careful about trusting certain people and to make sure that the caverns were aired out properly in the future. She agreed with appropriate humility, and all was well. The head of Greece's Department of Archeology didn't like Smythe anyway. He was happy it was "all above board" as he called it.

Getting Jack to agree hurt. A lot. She ended up bribing him with two of the Joxer Scrolls as he called them. She wasn't too much worried. Knowing Jack, he'd have them translated, put in a box and they'd be the archeological find of the next century when his great grand kids finally clean out his attic. With her luck, they end up being the basis for a cheap movie or radio program. What was it Ares had said? Idiocy was a family trait? Nope, She thought, nothing to worry about there.

The locals that had helped set everything up for the explosion eagerly went along with the idea. In exchange for an extra two days off, one with pay, of course. Most of them were just happy to be rid of the curse that had haunted the dig site. None of them realized that Smythe was cause of the curse. Then again, they really didn't care.

Convincing the rest of the staff and the students working the dig was also not a problem. She simply told them what she told the Greek officials. The senior staff members were all on a holiday anyway, playing around in one of the nearby villages buying supplies, getting laid, relaxing, whatever. Janice really didn't care what they were doing at that time, just that they believed her story. They did. After all, being able to talk her way out of anything also ran in the family. She did, however, tell two of her most trusted friends on the staff, Julie Waitreford and Roger Grant, the truth. They didn't believe her. She hadn't expected them to really.

Melinda, on the other hand, had posed a problem until Janice had her recite the story aloud. Janice had laughed hearing Mel's version of events. She could still hear the Southerner's voice in her head:

"Well, Smythe and his bunch of bullies accosted us and dragged us into the tomb. We found the Scrolls after Smythe had disappeared, and then found half of this round killin' thing that had belonged to Xena. Smythe showed up with the other half and tried to kill me. Dr. Covington saved me and we went into this other part of the tomb where all the torches lit by themselves. Then I was possessed by Xena so she could fight Ares, the God of War. The next thing I know was Dr. Covington helpin' me to my feet and then blowin' up the tomb to keep Ares from escapin'."

It still made Janice smile. After hearing for herself just how incredible the story sounded, Melinda agreed that the lie was better. Although she still didn't agree with the concept of falsehoods.

The dinner bell rang at that moment, tearing Janice away from thoughts of the tall, dark and enigmatic Southerner. She took one last look at her little kingdom, extinguished her cigar, put it away to keep it safe for later and went to wash up for dinner.

***

Dinner in the common mess type tent was a self serve affair. It was set up in a buffet style line and the staff, whatever field workers stayed at the camp, and their families could help themselves to whatever the cooks had decided to make that day. The kitchen was only open for three meals, and only for an hour and a half for each meal. It was a strict policy that if you missed out, you were on your own. Long ago, on one of her father's digs, Janice had learned never to wait and try her luck. She didn't appreciate missing a meal.

Janice grabbed a tray and walked through the line mindlessly gathering food onto her plate. She, like certain ancestors before her, didn't care what it was, as long as it was edible. She had that one, of several, advantage over most of her colleagues. She had found very few types of food that disgusted her in her travels. Most of the time she barely even noticed what she was eating unless it was either very good, very bad, or squid. Squid and sushi fell into the very bad, do not touch, I-can't-believe-you- want-me-to-eat-that category. She made it a point to interview the cooks closely to ascertain their feelings of seafood. If they believed fish should be cooked and squid should be used only for bait, they were hired.

Dr. Paul Stafford, Julie, Melinda, and Roger were already sitting at the "Round Table" when she finished gathering enough food to satisfy her appetite. She walked over and sat her tray down as Melinda was engaging Stafford in a conversation on Southern cooking.

"Really, Dr. Stafford, you must try some of our cuisine. Why I'd give almost anything to taste some of old Melba's hush puppies, turnip greens, creamed corn, fried chicken, catfish, black eyed peas, corn bread and white gravy. You just haven't lived until you've had a plate full of good ole home cookin' Southern style." Melinda finished by looking at her plate as if by sheer will it would transform into the food she was just describing. The rest of the party seemed satisfied by the food in front of them, and showed no interest in turnip greens. Janice was actually wondering what on earth they could be.

"My dear Ms. Pappas, I've actually been to the South. Mississippi in fact. I had to go and stay in this town, they called it a city, but still...Biloxi, I believe. They wanted to find the original site of the founder's landing. I was only there for two days before going to New Orleans, but they had the best shrimp. Its right on the Gulf of Mexico, and some of the restaurants catch their seafood fresh daily before dinner. It was marvelous. I could live without the hush puppies, but everything else was great. Especially in New Orleans. Now, that's a town that knows cuisine." Paul smiled kindly in Melinda's direction before returning his attention to his tray.

As Julie began her dissertation on her favorite meal, Janice studied her companions as she ate. The five of them were the top rungs of the dig's hierarchy, and commanded a table the undergrads and grad students working the dig had nicknamed the "Round Table" in reference to the sharing that went on there. Janice was not a control freak. She asked questions of her teammates and expected questions to be asked of her. In her mind, it was a group effort. Her tiff with Melinda over the discovery of the Scrolls was due to her distrust of the Southerner, and her disgust with what she thought was a spoiled, rich, naive woman-child trying to live off of her father's accomplishments. Xena's appearance straightened that out, but Janice still was not comfortable around Mel, and had only talked with her when necessary. She had only recently begun to warm up to the Southerner. More than warm up to her, if she would admit that to herself, which she wouldn't.

Straight across from Janice sat Paul. Dr. Paul Stafford was with the university funding the dig. He had actually arrived the day after Melinda. His mission, which he had chosen to ignore, was to spy on Janice. He chose to ignore it for two reasons. They were old friends from their days as undergrads and he had kept in touch with her enough after school to know that she did not share her father's moral views on the value of antiquities. He was a nice enough guy, intelligent, funny, compactly built with blond hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. Paul and Janice had gotten into a lot of trouble with pranks their senior year when the dreaded senioritis hit them both with a vengeance.

To her left sat Julie "Curly" Waitreford. She was nicknamed Curly in adolescence because of the unruly blonde curls that she insisted on wearing long. Julie was the camp's secretary and generally Janice's right hand. Her father had been one of Harry Covington's most trusted staffers, and her mother was the camp nurse. After Janice's own mother deserted them, Mama Waitreford took charge of a young Janice and her baby sister Amanda. Add to the mix of Julie, Janice and Amanda, Julie's younger brother Robert, who was the same age as Janice, the four of them raised hell on the digs. It was kind of fitting that the four paired off. Janice and Julie still worked together continuing their parents' work and Amanda and Robert were married just before Harry was killed in a cave-in.

"So Janice, what do you think?" Roger asked interrupting her train of thought. Roger had also been one of her father's closest friends and staffers. Both Roger and Niles Waitreford were the only ones who stayed with him until the end.

"I'm sorry Roger, I was thinking about something else. What do you want me to agree to?" Janice asked turning to face him.

"Poker. Just poker. It must have been some heavy thinking if you didn't hear the plans for your favorite weekend activity." He teased.

"Well, I'd have to say that poker isn't my favorite weekend activity," The group chuckled at Janice's innuendo, all except for Melinda who blushed faintly as was befitting a proper Southern woman. Janice cleared her throat after seeing that. "Yeah, sure, I'll play. Same as always? Here about 8 o'clock?"

The rest of the group nodded. Julie excused herself after making a comment about pretending to take a bath in her tent. Paul left a moment or two later heading in the same direction Janice noted. Roger got up to refill his coffee mug, leaving Janice where she didn't want to be. Alone with Melinda Pappas.

"So, Dr. Covington, have y’all ever been to the South?" Melinda asked, obviously trying to make conversation.

"Yeah. I flew through Dallas on my way to Mexico once or twice. Does that count?"

"My dear Doctor," Mel laughed. "We in the deep South don't consider Texas as being all that Southern. Its more Western with the Mexican influence and all." She stated gently.

"Sorry, I guess my US geography isn't what it should be." Janice looked down at her cup and silently begged Roger to hurry back. She wasn't good at small talk, and the beautiful Southerner made her nervous in a way no one else ever had.

"That's ok. I'll forgive ya for it. Its really an easy mistake to make because only Southerners bisect themselves further than the rest of the county." Melinda on the other hand was a master at small talk. It was a Southern art form that had prompted Mark Twain to scorn their favorite topic, the weather, by saying something like "everyone complains about it but no one does anything about it." Melinda never could remember the exact quote, but it was a favorite one of her daddy's.

"So what are you two ladies discussing?" Roger asked as he sat down. Janice hid a sigh of relief and was about to excuse herself for more coffee when Roger placed the pot on the table. He filled Janice's glass and reached over to refill Mel's but the Southerner just shook her head, declining his offer.

"Geography." Janice replied to his question as she reached for the sugar and proceeded to empty at least three tea spoons of the white powder into her coffee.

Roger looked to Melinda for an explanation, but the tall Southern belle just shrugged.

"Well, if ya'll will excuse me, I think I'm gonna go back to my tent and rest awhile. Evenin' Dr. Grant. Dr. Covington." Melinda rose, gathered up her personal belongings, and exited to her left.

Roger watched her leave and then contemplated his companion in silence. Janice just drank her coffee. Finally the silence became unbearable for the older man.

"Janice, honey, why do you avoid Melinda?" He asked as he turned his chair to face hers.

"I don't avoid her Uncle Roger. I just don't know how to talk to her outside of the Scrolls." Roger smiled at the term of endearment. He had adopted Janice as soon as he hired on with her father a little less than twenty years ago. Janice was only five at the time. It had amused her father and scandalized her mother. They did make an interesting sight, a little strawberry blonde imp with a nice base tan as was only befitting the child of an archeologist, and a six foot five black man chasing one another through the camp. For awhile, Roger would have sworn that he was only hired as a babysitter. He didn't mind, and he taught Janice a lot about life. After Ms. Covington disappeared a year later, the confirmed bachelor took it upon himself to assist Harry and the Waitrefords with the two kids she left behind. He made his vow to continue looking after his stubborn adopted niece at Harry's grave side.

"Just talk. She won't bite you."

"I know, but I'm not good at making small talk, and...well...I don't know." Janice continued to stare into her mug as if it held the answers she was looking for. She refused to admit her fear of falling for her.

"Little one," Janice smiled at the endearment and lifted her eyes to meet his. "You know we raised you best as we could..." He started unsure of how to continue. Janice saved him the trouble by interrupting him.

"I have never once, and I mean NEVER, regretted the way I was raised or by whom." Janice made sure to keep eye contact with her uncle. "You helped raise Amanda too, and she turned out fine. Even if she did marry Robert."

"Now Janice..."

"I'm just kidding. Robert's a nice guy and will keep her happy and safe. I'm just glad its her and not me he wanted. I can't see myself doing the whole marriage with children thing." Janice chuckled at the image. So did Roger.

"No, although I can see you happy with someone, but you'll never know if you don't open up to others." Roger dropped his eyes to his cup. "I will tell you that if I was younger, I'd spend a lot more time with Ms. Pappas. She's quite smart and very lovely" Janice almost inhaled her coffee.

"What, I mean..." She sputtered frantically looking for a way to turn this away from where she thought it might be leading. "Are you trying to tell me that you have the hots for our translator?"

"I didn't say that. And no, I don't. I just thought that maybe she'd make a good friend. That was all I meant." He covered a grin by refilling his coffee mug. "Why? Did you think I meant something different?" He asked innocently. She had never told her father about her preference for women. He had never asked, and as far as she knew neither her father nor any of his contemporaries knew. She was wrong. Harry Covington had never asked because he hadn't had to, neither did Roger. They knew it, accepted it, and got over it. It was just one more thing that ran in the family. "She'd make a great partner."

"How did you know?" Janice asked looking at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. "I mean other than the clothes, which is mostly because of the heat and for comfort and stuff like local customs..." Janice realized she was babbling. A nervous habit that also ran in her family. "Did Dad know?"

"Yes your father knew. No, it did not disappoint him. No I do not think less of you." He answered the questions her eyes asked. "Little one, as for how we knew, we raised you. We just knew." He answered vaguely. Roger Grant was not a coward by any means, but he felt this conversation would be more appropriate at a later date. Janice seemed to agree and let the matter drop.

"I, ah, I think I'm going back to my tent and get ready for the poker game," She said standing up and pushing her chair back underneath the table. "Be ready to lose a lot tonight, old man. I feel a winning streak coming on." Janice grinned and left him alone at the table.

Roger sighed and finished off his coffee before he too left the table and headed back to his tent.

***

Melinda Pappas sat on the bed in her tent contemplating the changes her life had gone through in a year. God, has it only been a year? She asked herself, taking a sheet of paper and using it for a fan. I really need to start dressing in something more appropriate for the climate. Mother would never make it here. No wonder Daddy never took her along. The paper fan helped a little, but not much. Mel let her thoughts return to her recent past.

Not long after her daddy died the year before, a week and a half after the funeral as a matter of fact, her mother and grandmother began planning her wedding. It didn't matter to them that Jason was stationed on a ship somewhere in the south seas, as soon as he got leave to come home, they wanted to have the wedding. They also disregarded the fact that Melinda didn't want to get married to Jason. Matter of fact, she didn't want a husband at all. When she first told her mother and grandmother that, they chalked it up to nervousness. She was only 18 at the time, so they decided to wait. She quit dating and began studying whatever her father would let her. That was how she learned ancient Greek.

A year ago she turned twenty-seven, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. She had been "dating" Jason for four years and her mother and grandmother felt it time to take the relationship down the aisle. Her father had gone to bat for her every time the subject came up, so had her older brother who was already married with children of his own. After Mel Pappas died, his daughter lost her edge. The matrons ignored Thomas, and to a certain extent Melinda, and set about making plans for the wedding. A week before Mel had hopped a flight to Greece, Jason's ship was sunk off the coast of an undisclosed island. There had been no survivors. The telegram had come four days after the event. Mel had allowed herself two days of mourning for an old friend, then packed and headed out.

She had actually found the telegram Janice had sent asking for Melvin Pappas's assistance shortly after her father died. He had left all of his books and papers to her instead of her mother. Upon reading the telegram and the note he had left with it, she understood why. It wasn't until Jason's death that she was able to find the strength to defy her mother and grandmother by taking her father's advice to flee the household.

What was it the letter said? Mel asked herself. She had it with her, but didn't feel like looking for it at the moment. She knew it by heart and could hear her father's voice so clearly it was as if he were reading it to her. The only way, you'll ever really be happy, my dear child, is to get out of this house as soon as you can. Greece is a good place as any to start. I know the young lady - Mel smiled at that. Janice couldn't really be called a lady, but her daddy always tried to see the best in others - who is running the dig. I dare say the two of you will get along admirably. She will at least help you to answer some of the internal questions you have about yourself and about life.

Now, here she was in a rough camp somewhere in Macedonia. She couldn't pronounce the name of the local village. “How come I can read ancient Greek, but I can't speak the modern version well enough to ask where the restroom is?” She pondered that for a moment before turning her thoughts to Janice Covington and why her father had advised her to find the young archeologist.

That woman is impossible She thought. Although, she has been getting better. And then wondered why she so badly wanted to befriend a woman that didn't seem to need more friends than she already had. And she wondered why her father insisted that she find Janice. What questions about life? She asked herself. Giving that train of thought up as being too philosophical, Melinda turned her mind to solving the problem of getting through Janice's emotional and mental walls.

Melinda Pappas didn't stop to think about why she was staging expanding her relationship with Janice into a full blown friendship as a battle. She just went a head and prepared a strategy, rehearsed it, worked the kinks out of it, got dressed, and headed out for the poker game. She was determined to at least befriend a certain gruff doctor of Archeology. Though her thoughts concerning the dig's director were not all that friendly or sisterly. Melinda didn't understand that either, but she was willing to make the first step toward finding out what her father had meant.

Melinda did know that drawing battle plans ran in her family; however, she had no way of knowing that none of her ancestors ever needed to attempt what she was going to. She also had no way of knowing that roughly two thousand years earlier, a petite strawberry blonde had set in roughly the same area plotting almost the same thing. The exception was that the Bard wanted in, not the Warrior. Never the Warrior, until now.

Neither Janice nor Mel realized that the Universe, in all its vastness has a twisted sense of humor, and when coerced by the Fates, cajolled by Time, and pleaded with by certain spirits and a forgotten god or two now residing in what has become known as heaven, it releases its power with irony in full force. As punishment for crimes neither woman committed that happened before their country of origin was even thought to exist, both Mel and Janice were forced to take on roles defined by their ancestors. The twist that made the Universe quiver with glee, and the Fates to laugh coffee through their collective noses was that the current players were not cast to play the original roles as defined by the first actors on the stage of life. The Bard had become the Warrior, and the Warrior a gentile Southern belle. Even the originals, resting on their halos in the Fields laughed and placed bets on the outcome with their friends. Neither Janice nor Mel would have appreciated the joke.

***

Janice Covington jumped out of bed. She stood in the center of her tent for a moment or two to let her thoughts catch up to her reflexes. The foremost question on her mind was why she was getting up. The answer was slow to appear, but when it did, it galvanized her into action. She had a reputation to protect, and she was not going to sully that rep by missing a poker game.

She ransacked her trunk to find a different shirt, preferably a clean one. Upon finding one and changing quickly, she grabbed her pile of coins saved for just this occasion, threw on her hat and ran to the mess tent. Janice slowed a few feet away from the entrance to compose herself before joining her friends and colleagues inside.

Paul, Julie, Roger, and (surprise, surprise) Melinda Pappas were already seated around the Round Table when Janice joined them. She took the seat nearest Mel, which had been conveniently left open. Janice peered around suspecting a conspiracy, but her friends just smiled innocently at her. That gave her curiosity a mighty tug, but she decided to play along.

"Ok, hotshot," Paul said to get Janice's attention. "I'm feeling lucky tonight. Think I might make back that money I still owe you from college." He reached around behind his chair and produced a bucket filled with water. "But first, I have a surprise for everyone. Close your eyes." He commanded setting the bucket on the table.

"Paul if I get soaked, I'm gonna kill you." Julie warned. Janice and Roger echoed the sentiment. Only Mel was close enough to see what the bucket contained and was not impressed.

"No one is going to get wet. At least not yet, so close those eyes up real tight." They complied and Paul set before each of them one bottle of German beer. Needless to say, Janice, Roger and Julie were very impressed.

"Now, then, I could only get six, and it cost me...well, lets not worry about that. Lets just enjoy the beer, game and friendship." He stated sitting back down.

Roger produced a pack of playing cards as Janice, Paul and Julie opened their beers. Melinda just looked at hers.

Well, I guess if I wanna fit in, this is one way. When in Rome and all that She thought as she struggled to open the bottle before her. Paul took pity on her and opened it with a bottle opener that had been sitting on the table.

"Ok, the rules are as follows," Roger said while shuffling the deck. "Maximum bet is twenty-five cents US or the local equivalent, dealer changes after three hands, the dealer is also in charge of calling the game, and if you get caught cheating..." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Then you obviously need more practice and deserved to get caught." The rest of the group laughed as he began dealing out the cards. "Five card draw."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Janice said after a long pull on her bottle. "Those Germans may be twisted sons of bacchae, but they do make great beer."

"Gee, Janice, don't you know," Julie asked as she assembled the cards before her in some type of order, "that beer is what Germans do best?"

Those at the table laughed, save for Melinda who tried to turn her grimace into a smile. She detested beer, and generally tried to avoid it. I guess its an acquired taste She thought as she took a smaller sip. Although she did have to admit that this one was better than the beer her brother drank. She soon found herself with another type of problem. She had no earthly idea what to do with the cards in front of her. Bridge she could play, poker was not one of her skills.

The rest of the group anted up and Roger prompted Mel to do the same. Mel noticed that the others were discarding cards and wondered if she should. She held a two of clubs, five of hearts, ten of diamonds, ace of spades and jack of clubs in her hand, staring at them as if they were Arabic. Taking a gamble, she placed the numbered cards face down on the table as she had seen Janice do, and waited. Soon Roger handed her three new cards before turning his attention to Paul.

Gingerly, they placed bets. Each one trying to feel the others out without looking like that was what they hoped to accomplish. Melinda kept an eye on Janice and mimicked her movements, except she refused to raise the bet any. After all, she really didn't understand what she held, and didn't want to be out that much change.

Finally, it was time to show hands, as the betting had begun to wear itself out. Paul and Julie showed only a pair each, one of threes and the other of eights. Roger turned his cards over with disgust. He really didn't have anything good to show, while Janice sat hers down with a smile.

"Three of a kind. Sorry fellas. Looks like this one is mine." She placed three nines on the table and reached for the pile of change. Roger stopped her hand.

"Wait a minute there little one, there's still one more hand to check. Melinda?" All eyes turned to the Southerner. Mel just shrugged and laid her cards down on the table face up. Janice let out a sigh of relief after seeing the pair of aces, jack, five and four.

"Yep, this one is all mine." She wiped the pile from the center of the table and proceeded to mix it with her own. Janice grinned the whole time. Mel shrugged again and handed her cards to Roger so they could be reshuffled.

The next two hands saw Paul winning one and Melinda winning the other. Dealership was then transferred to Janice as Julie went to the kitchen to fetch more beer. This time it was Greek and voted inferior to the German beer by all present. However, it was wet and it was beer so the grumbling didn't last too long.

The group talked as they played and drank. Mostly it was rehashing memories of digs gone by or voicing their hopes for the current site, even the occasional political discussion was started. Although that one was usually finished shortly before it could really begin.

Roger made the next beer run after Janice relinquished control of the deck to Mel. Mel was at a loss as to what to do. She didn't think that the others would be interested in bridge, so she did the only thing she could think of (with a little help from two beers): she dealt them all in a game of go fish. Julie and Roger were ecstatic with the choice as it was a break from the norm, however, Paul and Janice considered themselves avid poker players and grumbled at the choice.

Three hands later, Paul took control over the deck. Janice cheered, mainly because she lost all three hands of go fish, and volunteered for the next beer run. While she was gone, Mel took the opportunity to talk. She had been quite for most of the evening, nervous in Janice's company.

"I'm sorry for that game before, but I've never really played poker before tonight," She looked down at her hands while apologizing. Julie reached across the table and laid her hand on Mel's arm in a gesture meant to convey reassurance.

"Don't worry Mel, it was fun. Don't let Janice fool you. She's just upset that she lost." Julie told her with Paul and Roger nodding in agreement.

"I guess you're right, but I just...oh, never mind...its foolish and this is supposed to be fun. I guess the beer is just getting to me." Mel wanted to talk to someone and thought that Julie would listen, but she didn't want to do so in front of the others. Especially when she didn't know when Janice would return.

"Melinda," Julie tightened her grip on the Southerner's arm and looked her in the eye. Mel saw compassion and understanding there. "I know. Its tough, but its worth it." Julie would have said more, but she looked up in time to see Janice balancing five bottles of beer in her arms. Melinda didn't.

"What's worth it?" She asked before being clued in to the Archeologist's presence behind her.

"Yeah, what are you talking about. What's worth what?" Janice asked setting the beer on the table and laughing as it was snatched from in front of her.

"You are, you scamp. You're worth a pot of gold and the heart ache you give someone who tries to find it." Julie said unscrewing the top of her beer. Her eyes twinkled as Janice did something she rarely did. She blushed. "Seriously, I was just assuring Mel that all the effort we put into unearthing a dig is more than worth it."

Janice relaxed and sat down. Melinda hid a sigh of relief. She was not, by any means, a dumb woman, after all, intelligence ran in her family as well. She more than picked up on the hints that Julie had dropped, the innuendo placed out in the open, and the support of a willing ally.

By the time the evening was over, Janice had made good on her boast. She had won most of the remaining hands of poker and ended up with a good portion of the overall pot. With one annoying exception: Melinda had won the last bottle of German beer two hands before when Paul bet it in lieu of money. The poor guy had a horrible run of bad luck, and was forced to watch the remaining two hands as a spectator. They had adamantly refused to let him cash in more money. No one played with anything but the change they had collected between games. That was why they only played once a month. It kept them from getting into real trouble by losing part or all of their pay.

The last game had come down to Julie and Janice. Melinda had lost all but the beer and retired for the evening after the second to last hand. Roger pulled out early on while he still had some change left, and watched the two women go against each other. Julie had two pair, kings and fours, but Janice had three of a kind. To her chagrin, they were sixes. Roger and Paul teased her unmercifully about receiving the "unholy" hand.

After a few minutes of conversation while cleaning up and finishing what was left of their beers, the group dispersed. Janice was actually the last one to leave and smiled when she realized that Paul and Julie had walked back to his tent. She knew that they would probably see the night end and the sunrise together. A small part of her envied them, but the logical self denying part of her reminded her that she had too much to do to get involved with anyone.

As she walked back to her tent, she contemplated the choices she had made in her life. Satisfied with the outcome she dressed for bed. It wasn't until she reached up to turn out the light that she noticed the single bottle of beer on her desk. Getting up and examining it, she realized that it was the same bottle that Melinda had won an hour earlier. Janice placed the bottle in her desk drawer for safe keeping and went to sleep with a small smile on her face.

***

Days off were always done on a Saturday, and were done on a rotating schedule that had one fourth of the staff off at one time. Holidays were the only exception. Janice had adopted that from her father. It made sure that someone was always on hand in case of an emergency, and it kept the staff happy. Sundays were the one day everyone had off thanks to local law. The diggers had the entire weekend free. It kept them happy.

As a result of the relaxed schedule on Saturdays, it was generally a day to do inventory, clean the recent finds, catch up on paper work and do something other than manual labor for a change. Everyone, whether it was their turn to have a free day or not looked forward to Saturdays. Janice was no exception.

She had the chance to participate in her favorite weekend activity for as long as she wanted. Sleep. She slept long and hard on the weekends, making up for the long days and short nights the week before. When she finally did put in an appearance in the mess tent for breakfast (the only thing that could awaken her from solid slumber was food) only Melinda was there.

"Morning. Where's everyone else?" Janice asked as she sat her tray on the table and took her seat across from Mel. She was usually the last one to arrive for breakfast, which was served at a later hour on weekends, and the lack of Roger made her a little nervous. She figured Julie and Paul were worn out and still sleeping.

The tall Southerner had just finished her breakfast when Janice sat down. She hadn't been able to sleep very well the night before. Her sleep was plagued with weird dreams that she kept trying to remember over breakfast. She failed.

"Melinda?" Janice attempted to get Mel's attention, as the Southerner had yet to acknowledge her presence.

"What?" Startled blue eyes looked up into bemused green as Mel came back to earth. "Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Covington. What did you say?"

"I just asked where everyone else is." Janice was both puzzled and intrigued by the evidence of Melinda's wavering attention. The Southerner was usually on top of things as a rule.

"Oh, Dr. Grant was here earlier, but he left to go direct some grad students in proper record keepin'. Apparently they weren't doin' that great a job, and I haven't seen Dr. Stafford or Julie. Do ya think somethin' bad happened to them?" Janice almost lost the mouthful of coffee she was trying to swallow at Mel's innocent question.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine. Probably just overslept." She assured the Southerner. I'm sure something happened between them, not to them, but I'm not sure if it was something bad or not Janice thought to herself.

While Janice ate her breakfast, Melinda sat at the table drinking her coffee and furtively inspecting her companion. Janice didn't look quite the ruffian she had first appeared to be. The clothes were pretty much the same, and she still smoked cigars, but after Smythe's unfortunate accident, Janice had quit wearing the gun. Mel reasoned that the overall appearance hadn't changed too much, but her perspective had.

When Janice had been packing up the truck to move the Scrolls to a safer site, she had promised Mel that they would see this out together. She had kept her promise, hiring Mel on as the official translator and giving the Southerner a reason to stay in Greece. The hard part for Mel was that her idea of together was obviously not the same as the good doctor's. Janice had meant being colleagues, Mel had hoped for friends at the very least. It was that hope that kept her in the camp despite the homesickness and heat. She felt drawn to the young Archeologist like no one else she had ever met before.

"Melinda? Earth to Mel. Miss Pappas are you in there?" Janice was standing above Mel looking down on her and waving her hand in front of her eyes. Mel looked up to see a faint sheen of pink tinge the doctor's face as she stepped back and allowed the Southerner some room. Gods, she really has no idea how attractive she is Mel thought. Her eyes followed Janice as the shorter woman reclaimed her seat.

"Melinda, are you all right?" Janice asked, feeling much better with some space between them. Standing by Mel's chair and looking down at her had allowed Janice the opportunity to see down the sundress that Mel was wearing. Janice brought her hand up to wipe away any drool that may have made an appearance at the sight. She should register those breast as lethal. Anyone would surrender just to see them up close.

Melinda looked down at her lap and then back up at Janice. "Yes, I'm fine. I've just had a lot on my mind. That's all." Yeah, like how to catch you and what to do with you once I've got you The Southerner felt herself flush at the thoughts that were running through her head.

Janice did something then that Mel would have never guessed her capable of. She asked if she could help with the problem.

Yeah, I just don't know how to tell you that. Mel thought. Aloud she said, "That's mighty nice of you to offer Dr. Covington, but this is somethin' I need to work on. Somethin' personal."

Janice, thinking that it was jealousy over Paul and Julie's relationship, let the matter drop. Which was good for all involved, because at that moment the two entered the tent.

"See, Melinda, I told you they just over slept," Janice changed the subject (sort of, at least she thought so) and pointed out the couple to Mel.

"That's good. I'm happy for them. You know, that nothin' bad happened to them." The tall, self possessed Southerner began to ramble. "I think I'm gonna go work on the translations a bit more. I'll drop the preliminary notes off by your tent this evening. Is that ok?" She asked standing to her feet. Janice just nodded at the uncharacteristic ramblings the older woman evidenced. Mel nodded back and blindly rushed out of the tent.

"What did you do to her?" Julie asked as she sat down her plate.

"Nothing. At least I don't think I did." Janice replied before standing up. "I think I'm going to go review the new plans and get started on some overdue paper work. Enjoy your breakfast." She smiled and nodded to both Julie and Paul who had just arrived at the table.

"Do I smell bad or something?" Paul asked sniffing his shirt.

"No, why?" Julie asked with a slight grin.

"Then why did they both leave when we came in? I know you don't smell bad."

"Thanks. I think our dear friend and our translator are just experiencing a small case of UST." Julie informed him.

"UST?" Paul looked blank at the term.

"Yep, Unresolved Sexual Tension. Don't worry, I'll have a chat with Janice about it this afternoon."

"As long as you don't resolve it for her." He warned her. "Unless I'm invited." He added waving his eyebrows up and down in an imitation of the movies.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm just going to talk to her." Julie assured him.

"Shucks"

Seconds later, the kitchen staff was complaining of water stains on their table clothes. Which is amusing because the tables weren't covered, but they were relatively new to the English language, so it could be excused.

Paul had forgotten to put up the bucket of water from last night. Because of his comment, Julie deemed a lukewarm water dowsing as fitting. Moments after that, she was running full speed through the encampment with a very wet Dr. Stafford hot on her heels.

***

"Janice, can you spare a minute?" Julie asked as she walked into the records tent. Other staffers and various students were engaged in either cleaning vases or catching up on their field reports. Janice was hunched over a list of the recent finds from the site. It wasn't a long list. This site hadn't been that productive.

"Damn it! I know there's something here." The Archeologist began pacing, heedless of the others present in the tent. Julie had long since grown used to this habit and just let Janice rant.

"There has to be something here. Maybe on the South ridge." She continued on in that vein for several minutes, all the while pacing back and forth in front of the table. Finally she stopped and noticed Julie standing patiently in the corner.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Paul decided it would be funny to drop me in the stream outside." Julie told her. She looked, to Janice and the rest of the tent's occupants, like a dirty, half drowned rat. Her blonde curls hung loosely around her face and down her back, and she was covered in clay. She looked pitiful. Those not too awe struck by the normally composed woman's appearance found it hard to contain their laughter.

"So, was it?" Janice asked trying to casually hide her mouth behind the report she had been reading.

"Was what, what?" Julie asked shaking her head. That did nothing to improve the situation.

"Was it funny?" Janice managed to get the question out before laughing. Julie looked down at herself and started laughing as well.

"Seriously, Jan, can I talk to you for a minute or two?" The blonde asked. "In private?" She added after Janice had nodded and indicated for her to go ahead with the conversation.

"Yea, I guess so. We can go to my tent if you want." Janice answered as she led the way outside the records tent.

The trip to Janice's tent was quite. Both women were absorbed in their own thoughts, and neither felt like making idle conversation. Janice thought she had a good idea of what Julie wanted to discuss, the relationship between the camp secretary and Dr. Stafford was beginning to heat up. The Archeologist assumed that they would be discussing Paul.

Julie was pondering how to broach the topic she had intended to advise Janice on. That of UST. It was obvious to Julie, Paul (well, maybe not Paul) and Roger that both Melinda and Janice were suffering from it. Though whether it was over each other remained to be seen. They could both just be incredibly horny. She also could have been misreading the signals, but she doubted it. Something deep inside her was telling her that this time, it was different.

They ended up seated in Janice's tent with one of them on the bed, and the other at the desk. They set in silence for a few moments while each one thought of and discarded possible ways to begin the conversation. Janice leaned back on her bed and took the initiative.

"So, Julie, what's going on?"

"Uh, well, I really don't know how to start this..." She trailed off and lit a cigarette to hid her awkwardness with the topic. Janice sighed and lit a cigar.

"Julie?" Janice tried to get her friend's attention after moments passed with no other sounds in the tent other than the exhaling of smoke.

"Sorry, Jan, I guess I wondered off there for a moment. We've known one another for how long now?" The blonde asked.

"Longer than I can remember." Janice answered getting annoyed with the beating around the bush. "Look, Curly, I think I know what this is about."

"You do?" Julie raised her eyebrows in question. She thought this would take the petite Archeologist by surprise. "What do you know?"

"Its kinda obvious. You and Paul have hit it off extremely well." Julie made as if to interrupt, but Janice kept on going. "I love you both dearly, and if you're worried I might be jealous or anything, don't be. I'm happy for you both. Honestly I am. Just don't try to make me wear a dress to the wedding." She chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of it, but Janice, about Mel..."

"Melinda Pappas may be jealous a little, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. She hasn't known Paul all that long. I'm sure she'll get over it." Janice got out of bed and motioned to the front of the tent. "Now, let's get back to work. Shall we?" She extended an arm to Julie.

"But Janice, what about you?"

"What about me?" The Archeologist was confused by the turn in conversation.

"I mean, you can't do all this alone." Julie took her hand and stared her friend in the eye. "Honey, I'm worried about you. Solitaire is not a good game to play all the time."

"Thanks for the concern, Curly, but really, I'm fine. Happy even." The shorter woman shrugged. "Besides, I'm not alone. I do have friends you know. You are even one of them." Julie smiled sadly. She knew Janice was right, but she still felt she had to try.

"I know, but Janice..."

"Its fine. I'm fine. Let's leave it at that ok? Now let's get out of here before Paul thinks I've seduced you." Janice smiled as she deftly avoided the topic and started toward the tent opening.

"Well, he does have good reason to think that. You are a charmer when you want to be, Janice Covington." Julie laughed and headed out behind her friend.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't even try it a second time. Although it did work once."

"Yeah, but Janice we were only children. You were what, 16 and I was 18?" They both smiled at the memory of their long ago tryst. It was after the death of Julie's mother. Their combined tears had led to one night of misery turned to fumbling passion. It had only happened that once, and neither one of them regretted the act, denied it, nor tried to continue it. Even though Julie sometimes wondered if it would be better now that Janice had more practice. The closest they had came to it was after Harry Covington's death. Julie could now say that Janice was one hell of a kisser, but that was all.

"I think so. You were right. We're much better as friends. Paul's a lucky guy, and you're a lucky girl." Janice picked up her pace a bit before adding one last comment. "He's pretty good too you know. For a guy." At that she took off running. Julie was right behind her.

Janice made it all the way to the stream before Julie tackled her. Soon both women looked like dirty, half drowned rats. Their screams of mock outrage and laughter could be heard echoing through out the dig site.

***

Melinda, like most of the others in the camp had heard the screams as Julie and Janice ended up in the stream. She had gone to investigate, but soon realized her assistance was not needed. So she watched the two old friends frolic a bit before returning to her tent.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was jealous. Not of Julie really. She was well aware that the two half drowned rats were nothing more than friends, but she envied that friendship. She had began to realize that she wanted that type of bond with Janice, and it depressed her that someone else had been there before her.

It wasn't until she tried to get back to work that she realized she was jealous of Janice and Julie's relationship for more than Janice. She never had that feeling of freedom both women seemed to take for granted. They laughed, drank beer, played poker, did whatever they felt like they wanted to. I bet they bed whoever they want whenever they want, the Southerner thought a little ruefully causing herself to blush. Her experience with sex was limited to maybe three nights of fumbling with Jason. She still didn't understand the attraction so many had for physical acts of passion.

Her mother and grandmother had kept her under strict control while she was growing up. She wasn't allowed to do anything that failed to meet their approval. Melinda Pappas had a lonely childhood as a result. Obviously, they didn't. She thought about the Archeologist and the Secretary. Bet they caused all sorts of trouble. Yes, Melinda was envious of their freedom both past and present. The same way she was envious of her brother, for the same reason.

Visions of Janice as a child soared through the Southerner's mind. Her imagination compared her's with Janice's in various situations. Placing them both in Melinda's memories, she saw Janice defy the Southern Matrons, and herself cower in front of them. The edges of the visions were blurred, as if someone else were showing her these things, or trying to stop her from seeing them. Abruptly they stopped.

You aren't under anyone's control now, you know.' A voice said into Melinda's mind. You have gained your freedom. Let go of the past and embrace the present. You'll never live until you do.'

Melinda jerked out of her bed wondering just when she had fallen asleep. My goodness, what did that dream mean? With each second the dream faded back from her awareness, but the voice stayed. That voice, it was so like Janice, only softer somehow. Gentle.

Melinda put her head in her hands and sat that way for a long few minutes. Finally she decided the heat was getting to her mental state, and resolved to dress more for the climate again. No matter what her upbringing had imprinted on her.

With that in mind, she collected the notes she had made on one of the Scrolls, and went to go find Dr. Janice Covington.

***

Janice had just changed out of her now filthy clothes and was reaching for a cleaner undershirt when someone cleared their throat in front of her tent.

Damn tents. No doors to knock on. She looked down at the pile of clothes at her feet and grimaced. Julie, it was fun, but now I've really got to do laundry. Maybe I can send a few of the grad students into the village Monday to have it done.

"Come in," Janice yelled to the silhouette outside her tent as she put on the white cotton t-shirt and grabbed for a more decent shirt to wear over it. Melinda walked in just as Janice had located one.

Oh, my. Melinda thought as she walked in on Janice. The Archeologist was wearing a pair of khaki pants that had yet to be buttoned, and a plain white men's undershirt, no sock, boots or anything else. Her strawberry blonde hair had been washed but not dried and was pushed back behind her ears. God, she looks great like that, and so young. The Southerner flushed.

Janice, who had forgotten that Mel wanted to talk to her after the translator had reviewed the Scrolls, just stood there for a moment pondering the look in Mel's eyes. Is that look what I think it is? She asked herself before regaining her senses. She turned around, tucked in the t-shirt into her pants, and fastened them. Nah, it can't be, can it?

"Well, Ms. Pappas, what can I do for you?" She asked turning back around to find Melinda staring at the floor.

"Well, I thought that maybe you wanted to read the notes I've made on the Scroll I've been working on." Melinda shyly looked up at Janice and handed her the notebook. Janice dropped her shirt on the bed and took the notebook from Mel's hands.

"Thanks, here have a seat," Janice cleared the papers off her desk chair and indicated that Mel should sit there. The Archeologist stared at the notes in her hand a minute before looking at Mel. "Sit down, really, I don't bite. At least not too hard." She smiled at Melinda until she realized the joke fell flat.

"Maybe I should just let you read over those. We can discuss them when you're finished." Mel had no idea why she was suddenly shy. Janice had on more clothes than those pictures she had found in her brother's room once a long time ago. She had to admit that the Archeologist looked better than those Frenchwomen in the photos, and she shaved too. That was a big plus. It was just that the tank style shirt accented the younger woman's curves, and Mel had to admit, that she look sexy disheveled. The Southerner blushed again.

"Sure, if that's what you want." Janice told her. She was slightly confused about the Southerner's reaction. Maybe there's something in the Scrolls. "Listen, I'll find you when I'm done looking these over. Does that sound ok?"

Melinda nodded and silently left the tent. It wasn't until Janice sat down on her bed to read that she realized how she had been dressed when the Southerner had entered the tent.

"Now, that was an odd reaction," She said to herself. "You'd think she'd never seen anyone half dressed before." The blonde Archeologist shook her head and started to read the understated yet neat handwriting of the dig's translator.

The story in the most recently translated Scroll turned out to be the story of the Warrior and Bard's first meeting with a god. Morpheus, the ancient god of dreams. It was obviously written sometime after the actual event had occurred. Although how much time had passed was not certain.

"This was probably written after Gabrielle decided to become a Bard," Janice muttered aloud.

The Scroll was written from an uninterested third party point of view, but the language used suggested that Gabrielle was the author. She rarely made mention of herself, but Janice felt a grudging respect grow for her ancestor. According to the Scroll, the Bard (who referred to herself as either Xena's young companion, which made Janice raise an eyebrow at the implied relationship, or as the would be bride of the Dreamworker) had managed to keep herself alive and her blood innocence intact long enough to be rescued. It sounded like it was quite a feat, and the young woman had accomplished it very well. Janice was impressed.

Janice rested the notebook on her knee and thought about the tale. She wondered if Gabrielle had really been that humble or if she had written that Scroll before she had been associated with Xena for a long period of time. It’s a shame we know so little about her. Janice thought. After all, Boswell, the man who recorded Ben Johnson's life had his own biography. Homer had his, sort of. At least, he can be proven to have existed outside of spirit saying so She wasn't sure if her colleagues at the university would accept Xena's word of her friend's existence as fact since Xena was roughly 2,000 years dead.

All in all, Janice thought it was a good story and a believable one for her colleagues. The god in question never appeared, and it read like a ancient cult acting out a ritual. The supernatural overtones of the dreamscape would be over looked as creative metaphor by those that either refused to believe or had not been trapped in a tomb with Ares. Ares had turned Janice into a believer of the so called supernatural real fast.

The young Archeologist had first begun searching for the Scrolls to prove her father right. That had been a little over two years ago. She had just gotten her doctorate and was on a dig in Mexico when word of her father's death had reached her. She had made a promise at his grave side in Cairo that she would continue his work and realize his dreams for him. It took her three months to find a replacement for herself at the Mexican dig, and to arrange for university funding to take over her father's dig in southern Macedonia, with herself as the director of course. She tried to keep everything above suspicion, for she was, like her long dead ancestor, an honest, honorable person with a very persuasive will. The university had agreed and Janice stepped into her new position.

It wasn't until they had stumbled onto Ares's tomb that Janice had begun to wonder about the identity of the Scrolls' author. It wasn't until Xena possessed Mel that Janice saw Gabrielle as something more than a tag along. She had seen it in the Warrior's eyes (Mel's eyes as...never mind) as she told the story of Gabrielle. Xena had obviously respected and cared for her friend. To Janice that translated as the Bard was worthy of admiration. From all she knew about Xena, the Warrior didn't suffer fools (except for Joxer) and had very little patience (even with Joxer).

The conversation with Xena had made Janice curious about Gabrielle. Two years after assuming her father's work, Dr. Janice Covington had turned the search for the Scrolls into her own. Oh, she'd admit that she was half in love with Xena, which was why Melinda made her so uncomfortable, but now the search was to know her family, to know her history, to learn about her so-far-removed-I'm-not-sure-you-can-call-her-that grandmother.

"Its about time," A low voice sounded in her ear. "You finally figured part of it out. Congratulations, I won the bet. The next part is easier if you'll let it be." The voice was soft and melodic with a slight accent to it that sounded Australian for some reason.

Janice jumped out of bed and looked around her empty tent. "Some dream," She mumbled as she picked up the notebook from its current resting place on the floor. She tried not to think about the dream, which involved the Warrior, Mel, the Bard and herself. She sat back down on the bed for a moment before making up her mind to go find the Southerner.

"Maybe Mel can shed more light on Gabrielle," Janice told herself. She was aware of the perfectionist side of the Southerner. Mel would translate a rough copy of a Scroll, refine it, proof it, set it aside and work on another before going back to the previous one for a final proofreading. It was a slow process, but Janice felt it was worth it. She hadn't found any errors that first time when she had checked the translation to the original. Not that she would, Mel was infinitely better as a translator than Janice was. So, the Archeologist reasoned that Mel would have rough translations for at least two or three different Scrolls.

With that in mind, Janice grabbed her hat, lit a cigar, and headed out to find Melinda. She made it five feet outside her tent before rushing back inside, pulling on the other shirt she had abandoned hours previous, and then resumed her quest.

The distant thunder sounded suspiciously like laughter. It was the Universe enjoying its game.

***

After leaving the Archeologist's tent, Melinda decided she needed to talk to someone about her confusing thoughts and feelings. She had to admit to herself that she was attracted to Janice, but had no idea what, if anything, she should do about it.

She remembered Julie's comments from the night before and thought that she would be a good person to talk to. Mel had always thought women were easier to discuss matters of the heart with, she had found only two exceptions: she had always felt as if she could tell her father anything, and never trusted her mother. That lesson had been learned the hard way.

With the thought of a willing ally in mind, the Southerner began her search for the camp secretary.

***

Julie had been sitting outside under a piece of canvas trading laughs with Paul when she looked up and noticed Melinda walk by. The tall Southerner looked so sad and distraught that Julie pointed her out to her companion then whistled for her attention. Melinda turned, noticed the couple and shyly walked over to join them.

"Well, well, Ms. Pappas, what's the long face for?" Paul asked as Melinda gingerly took a seat on the ground.

"I'm just tired, I guess." She told him. Julie was not convinced that the Southerner was just tired and searched her brain for a way to get Paul to leave without being obvious.

"Why don't we play some more poker this evening?" the blonde woman suggested. She knew Paul loved poker and would volunteer to set up the game.

"That sounds good, but what are we going to bet? I'm all out of change." They pondered that in silence for a minute before Paul had a brainstorm. "How Ôbout we use matches and stuff like that. I'm sure I can get Roger to help me locate some stuff." He stood up and dusted his pants off, excited about the suggestion.

"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe Melinda and I can go to my tent and see what we can find there. How Ôbout you tell Janice to meet us in an hour?" Julie stood up and extended an arm down to Melinda and helped the Southerner stand. They both dusted themselves off and straightened their clothes.

"That sounds like a plan. See ya there." With that, he jogged back to the camp and Melinda followed Julie to the secretary's tent.

They walked in an uneasy silence, but once in side the tent's entrance, Julie motioned for Melinda to sit on the bed, as she took a seat on her trunk.

"Wanna talk about it?" The blonde asked quietly.

"I'm not sure if I can. I'm just so confused about everything."

"You're attracted to Janice aren't you?" Julie was nothing if not blunt. Melinda nodded and stared at the floor. "Is this the first time you've been attracted to a woman?" She thought that was what caused the taller woman's discomfort. Finding a difference like that, especially in someone with Mel's upbringing, was often tough for someone to face within themselves.

"It's..." Melinda brushed a tear off her cheek. "The first time I've ever really been attracted to anyone." She told Julie in a subdued voice.

"So, you've never been with a woman, sexually?" At Melinda's shake of negativity, Julie continued. "Have you ever been with a man?" Melinda nodded again, still looking at the floor. "Were you attracted to him?" God, getting this woman to open up is tougher than getting Janice too. At least Jan will spill everything once prodded long enough. She thought to herself.

"I was sorta engaged to be married before his ship went down." Melinda took a deep breath before continuing. "My mother was going to make us get married. I had been datin' him for about four years, just to keep them quite. He was a friend, and I loved him, but I was never in love with him. Never attracted to him, never enjoyed it." She was crying openly now, so Julie got up and held her.

"When my daddy died, he told me to come here and meet Janice, but I never really knew why until now. I think I'm falling in love with her, and I don't know what to do about. I don't know what to do." Julie just held her until the tears had run themselves dry and Melinda was ready to listen to reason.

"Well, that's a tough one. Lucky for you, Janice is...," She stopped to find a way to put it delicately, "She does appreciate the female form. She's more than worth any effort. I think you need to decide what you want. If you want her, you'll have to catch her. She won't chase you."

"Why not?" The Southerner asked as she unwound herself from Julie's embrace. She had been worried that Janice would be upset or offended. Or worse, not interested in her. That would hurt.

"She respects you." Came the reassuring response. "Janice won't try anything with someone she respects, unless they give her a clear signal to go ahead."

"Did you...are you...have you..."

"Yes," Julie cut her off "Once, a long time ago. And almost again two years ago, but we're better as friends. Janice... we..." She sighed. "I wish that...sometimes I wish it could be different, but I'm just not that way. Paul's more my type."

"Why not two years ago? What happened?" Melinda was curious despite herself.

"She passed out." A rueful chuckle accompanied that statement. "It was right after her daddy died, well, right after the memorial in Cairo. We went out and got completely drunk. I held her as she cried, and one thing started to lead to another. I did learn that she has become one hell of a kisser, even intoxicated." Melinda blushed and wiped the tear stains from her face.

"Um, don't you think maybe we should go join the others?" Julie asked standing up and heading out the tent.

"Julie," Melinda came up behind her and reached for her arm. "Thank you for that. I really needed someone to..." The camp secretary cut her off by giving her a hug. The startled Mel returned it.

"It was my pleasure," The blonde told her. "Now, go get cleaned up. I'll meet you in the main tent."

The two women parted ways. Neither one saw Janice Covington standing behind them.

***

Janice had fruitless searched the area around Mel's tent and the records tent before running into Paul. He had just returned from putting all the matches and rocks he had collected into little piles on the Round Table.

"Hey, there, boss. What do you say we play some poker tonight. We're gonna bet with something other than money." The blond man was enthusiastic about the planned game.

"Sure, Paul, that sounds great. Have you seen Mel anywhere?" Janice would not admit that she was concerned, but she was.

"Yeah, she went off with Julie. I think they wanted to be alone for a few minutes." Paul didn't see the curious look that crossed his friend's face. "Listen we're supposed to meet in about ten minutes. See ya there?"

"Yeah, sure. Say Paul, when was it you last saw those two?"

"Um, about an hour ago why?"

"I was just looking for Mel. Had a question about one of the Scrolls. That's all." She turned in the direction of her childhood friend's tent and called back over her shoulder that she would see him at the game.

The walk to Julie's tent was a short one, and when she got there, she saw Julie stride out of the tent looking slightly rumpled. Melinda followed her a moment later. It was obvious to Janice that Mel had been crying. As she watched the two women hug and listened to their conversation, she became confused.

That didn't really sound the way I took it? Did it? The Archeologist thought as she headed toward her tent. She thought best while she moved. Nah, Melinda probably cried out her homesickness on Julie's shoulder. That's all.

Janice was surprised by a sudden feeling of jealousy over that thought. And it had nothing to do with her childhood friend. That really surprised her. She ducked back inside her tent to think about it.

"Ok, I know I'm attracted to Mel, I mean really, who wouldn't be? But jealous over her crying on Julie's shoulder? Why? I mean, I like her..." Janice was pacing around her tent as she muttered her thoughts aloud. She didn't hear Roger enter. She didn't see him until she walked into him. "I know I like her...oomph."

"You need to pay a little more attention, little one. Are you alright?" The big man asked, rubbing his chest where Janice had collided with it.

"Yeah, I think so," She answered rubbing her nose. "What are you wearing under that? Armor?"

"Nah, chain mail. Its easier to conceal. You're about to miss the poker game. We're all waiting for you." He advised her.

"Go ahead and start. I'll be there in a minute. I hafta make sure you didn't kill my nose." She shooed him out.

"I'm sure its fine. See ya there," He chucked and turned to leave. "Oh, yeah, Janice? I'm glad you figured it out." He left before she could reply.

"Figured what out? That I like Mel, or that his chest is as hard as his head?" That got her started on another circuit. "I like her and I'm attracted to her. What am I going to do about it? Guess I could find out how she feels. Or I could just go for broke and let her know. What would Gabrielle do?" She wondered as she followed the trail from her tent to the poker game.

Little did she know, that the situation between her and Melinda was still causing the Universe to chuckle. Had she known, then she would have understood why the thunder she kept hearing never got any closer. Janice would also have benefited from asking what Xena would have done, ok, on second thought, no she would not have. The Bard had plotted the capture of the Warrior's heart. Janice was right to ask what her ancestor would have done.

In the Fields, the Bard got pinched for laughing at that. Everyone else got a glare. Warriors are a touchy lot. Even long dead ones.

***

When Janice entered the tent she noticed that everyone was in the same position they were in the night before. She again took a seat next to Melinda. This time, she was a little nervous. She had decided to approach the Southerner after the game to test the waters. She wanted to see where she stood before anything else.

The game was already in full swing, so she just sat back and waited for the hand to be played out. Sitting in front of her was a pile of rocks, a pile of matches, and a pile of chipped pottery. She pondered the pottery for a moment before she recognized it. It was what was left of the vases Smythe's men had broken when they attacked Mel three months ago. She had forgotten that an industrious undergrad had put all the broken pieces in a box. He wanted to see if he could put them back together. Janice had told him that he had a severe obsession with Humpty Dumpty.

"Um, Janice?" Mel felt she was taking a risk by calling the Archeologist by her first name. She was encouraged when Janice turned greenish blue eyes her way and didn't protest. "Can you tell me what I should do here?"

Janice looked around and saw no protest before she nodded and scooted her chair closer to Mel's.

"Let's see what you have." Janice leaned closer to peer at the cards and almost closed her eyes as her pupil's perfume hit her. It was a light fragrance, kinda like fresh roses and vanilla. For some reason, she had been expecting jasmine and leather with the faint sent of horse. It was disconcerting.

Turning her attention back to the task at hand, She noticed that Mel had the most elusive of all hands. A Royal flush in hearts. Not wanting her companions at the table to hear, she leaned even closer to whisper in Melinda's ear. Of course being that close to the translator was a secondary reason. Well, maybe it was the other way around.

"You should hold what you have there. Its an unbeatable hand. Keep a straight face and bet whatever they ask you to." She advised. It took a minute for Mel to understand what she had said. Janice's close proximity was a little distracting, as was the warm breath that tickled her ear.

"Have you ever had one of these?" She whispered back. Causing Janice to entertain several lewd thoughts about the translator. She just shook her head and backed off to a more respectable distance.

The others took their cards and looked at Mel in suspicion when she declined to draw any others. They understood why five minutes later when she won the pot and Janice patted her on the back. The Archeologist had a smile on her face, and Mel returned it when she looked up. For a minute, neither woman could speak. Roger broke the moment when he handed the cards to Janice and explained what each pile represented monetarily.

She looked around and saw understanding smiles on her friends' faces. Well, not Paul's he was a little oblivious about the whole thing.

"What do you say? Seven card stud?" She began dealing before they could answer.

The evening went along almost like the previous one. They drank coffee instead of beer, none of them were really big drinkers. They only indulged on occasion, and the monthly poker game was one of the few occasions they agreed warranted it. Paul still didn't win that much, but Melinda did. Between her and Roger, the others lost their rocks. Nobody complained, not even Janice. They just wanted another evening of fun and companionship. It was hard to find anything else to do in west of nowhere.

Once again, Melinda left before the last hand. The rest voted Roger the clean up man since he won, and since the only things to put up were the cards and substitution betting chips. They all put away their own coffee mugs. Most were taken back to the tents for the evening.

Janice went to Mel's tent after she had lit a cigar for courage. It gave her something to occupy her hands with. She used a cigar as a tool of distraction.

To her surprise, the Southerner was not in her tent. Janice, losing courage, went back to her own.

She had just gotten into bed and fallen asleep when she had a nightmare. According to her watch, only half an hour had passed since she left the poker game. She was filled with an undeniable urge to find Melinda. The urge was so strong that Janice only slipped on a pair of pants, her boots, and threw her jacket on over her t-shirt before she was outside her tent.

Some compulsion led her to the eastern part of the dig. It was an area as yet untouched by the diggers, and looked unpromising. Janice saw her quarry sitting on a little rise staring at the moon.

***

After leaving the poker game, Mel decided to walk around the camp a little. She needed to work things out in her head, and thought the peace and quiet of the dig site would help. She sat down on a little rise overlooking the eastern part of the dig and stared at the stars.

Wonder if they ever saw them like this? If they ever had time to just stop and stare at the stars? She wondered about the ancient Warrior and Bard. Nothing she had read about in the Scrolls so far had said much about their private lives. So far most of them had been about the first year of their acquaintance, and they really didn't even seem to be friends. Just companions without the company.

Kinda like me and Janice. I guess they grew closer over time. Bet we can too, we have so far. She assured herself, after all, things had been warming up between them over the past few days. Maybe when we find more Scrolls, we'll learn more about their lives outside Xena's heroic deeds. Melinda shared Janice's view that there were more Scrolls out there to be found. They just had to know where to look. She believed that the Warrior and the Bard had several years together, and that the Bard had written more than just the nineteen Scrolls they had found. Well, twenty one if you count the two that went with Jack. Three of those not counted in the nineteen were continuations of other Scrolls, and two more contained two stories each, those like the Marcus one were short and distant. That made for a total of 23 stories, twenty one of which they had, and ten of which she had fully translated. Who knew what she would find in the others.

Melinda was so deep in thought over the Scrolls, having cowarded out and not given much consideration to the reason she was on the ridge, that she didn't hear Janice approach.

"Nice night, mind if I join you?" She asked as she extinguished her cigar under her heel. It gave her something to do while she waited on Mel's answer.

"Sure, I mean no, um..please, have a seat." Seeing Dr. Janice Covington standing in the moonlight with only a t-shirt under her jacket and shyly staring at the ground, gave Melinda the answer she was looking for. Yes, she wanted the woman before her, she loved her, she was attracted to her, and she would fight for it.

"Thanks," Janice sat down beside the Southerner. She felt the change in the air flow around them and realized that the thunder she had been hearing all day was gone. The Universe was holding its breath.

"So, what are doing out here?" Melinda asked politely. Her heart was beating so hard that she would have sworn the Turkish forces could hear it.

"I came out to find you." It was said quietly, so quietly that Melinda almost didn't hear it, but then super hearing ran in her family.

"Did you have a question about the Scrolls?" She wanted a negative answer. She really wanted a negative answer.

"No, I just wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?" Now Janice was nervous.

"Yeah, that's fine. Great. Its nice. What do you want to talk about?" Babbling didn't run in Melinda's family, but she was certainly doing that.

"Are you, uh, happy here, Mel?" The Archeologist asked her. Please say yes, please.

"I guess so. I'm not unhappy" At least not now.

"But are you happy?" Janice stressed. Seeing Melinda's shrug she continued. "What would make you happy?"

"You." It was a whisper. Janice barely heard it, and could have ignored it if she wanted to. She really didn't want to.

"I was hoping you would say something like that." The Archeologist felt the wind stir around them as the Universe sighed. "I've begun to like you a great deal. I don't want you to go anywhere like back home. Unless you want to, I mean."

"No. I like it right here. I'm not going to leave you Janice." Melinda promised. "We go together." It was a test. She wanted to see if Janice meant the same thing she did by together.

"Together." Janice reaffirmed. The Archeologist paused for a moment and then leaned over and kissed a startled Mel. "Was that alright? You're not going to flip or anything are you?"

"I'm fine. I don't think could do a flip if I tried." Mel quipped. This time she leaned in, Janice met her half way. They took their time, Janice kept all contact light. She didn't want to frighten Mel by going too fast.

"We have all the time in the world, right?" She asked. Mel, being a little short of breath, nodded. "Then let's take it slow and easy. Together." She promised again.

"Together." Melinda echoed. "Julie was right."

"How so?" Janice was confused by the sudden change in conversation.

"You are one great kisser." Melinda had the distinct thrill of seeing Janice blush for a change.

Janice stood up and brought Mel along with her. "Why don't we go shopping on Monday. We can take off and go to one of the larger villages. And I can get my laundry done."

"That sounds good." Mel stood up to her full height, and then took advantage of it by leaning down and kissing Janice. "Maybe we should go back and go to bed." She blushed again at Janice's upraised eyebrow. It had taken centuries before anyone in her family could do it, and Janice, although she didn't know that, wasn't going to let the skill go to waste.

"I know, separate tents. Separate beds. Shared dreams." Janice took Mel's hand and led her back to the camp.

Together. They both thought.

In the Fields, certain spirits were giving one another high fives, while two were claiming their rewards from each other. The Universe sighed again. The Fates warned it against sighing. That's how comets collide. It replied that this time, two hearts did. Two souls were rejoined. Together.

end

[moonlit-manifesto]

Heartbreak Red’s Takeover

It’s April 1st, so you know what that means - it’s April Fools’ Day!

Because it’s Uduki Arata’s Hearbreak Red’s month, he’s taken over the Tsukiuta Twitter (@tsukiuta1) and Tsukino Productions website as you’ve probably already seen. I’ll translate some select Heartbreak Red tweets from the throughout the day and put them on this post under the cut. This post will be continually updated throughout the day, so check back at the end of the day to see all of them!

☆Today Begins April☆

Haru: “I would like to give formal thanks to the month of March. Until next year♪”

Arata: “Thanks for your hard work, Haru-san!  Don’t worry! I’ll definitely make April an exciting month just like you did!”

Haru: “Ahh, good. I can feel your enthusiasm from those sunglasses and that red scarf.”

Arata: “Yep!”

#Please treat us well, April

Arata: “Now then, it’s time to hand it over to a hero.”

☆It’s April 1st! Everyone Gather ‘Round! It’s a Heartbreak Red Fest☆

Red: “Hey, everyone! It was pretty hard to make updates everywhere with just one person! [referring to the site takeovers] I worked extremely suddenly! So guys, will you join me~ ?”

Red: “Your heart will beat...” [This is part of his catchphrase but doesn’t sound good translated literally lol. The full phrase is “ハートがキュンと来て... ドッコイショ!” (HAATO ga kyun to kite... dokkisho!)

[T/N: In this tweet, he’s supposed to be reading through some requests/mail sent in. As part of the April Fools’ Day campaign, people could actually tweet things to Heartbreak Red, and he’d reply to some of them.]

Red: “There’s ‘heartbreak’ stuff in here. Well, any subject is fine. ‘Go call on Aoi-kun~’ is in Requests (I’ll go catch him when he comes back to the dorms). ‘Anxiety from becoming an official adult in April’ warrants some more serious advice so I’ll throw away my carefree-ness for that one. The carefree-ness will make a return though.”

☆It’s noon! Let’s have some fun!☆

Red: Is everyone enjoying April Fools’ Day~? I admire, and also laugh at, the official staff’s common sense once it became time for their lunch break. Now’s my time to shine! I’m Heartbreak Red. So with this first greeting, let’s try and continue energetically!“

Red: "Your heart will beat…” [everyone’s supposed to respond with ‘ドッコイショ!’/'ba-dump!’]

[The tweets below are some of the requests/messages/etc. that were submitted along with Heartbreak Red’s replies. I’m mainly translating the funny ones since they’re more interesting ^^ ]

[REQUEST]: I want to see a drawing of Hajime-san by Heartbreak Red.

Red: Bam:

[ADVICE]: Red!!! My boyfriend is incapable!!! What should I do to make him more exciting??

Red: "How about me instead!!!”

[REQUEST]: Please call Chisa-chan over

Red: “CHISA-CHI---------------!!!”

Chisa: “I’ve arrived from your call, ta-daaaaa! ‘Your heart will beat - ba-dump-----!!!’ Bye now!!!!!”

Red: “That great energy she gives off is the best!!!!!”

[ADVICE]: My room is really disorganized. How can I make it pretty (´;ω;｀)?

Red: “Take a picture of it with your phone, and look at it and say ‘Wow... it’s better in my imagingation... possibly...’ is what I would recommend (speaking from experience).”

[OTHER]: Arata-kun, how are your nose and throat? [because it’s allergy season]

Red: I’m not Arata, but in regards to hay fever, I seem to be fine for the time being.”

[REQUEST]: Pick a fight with You-kun ◝(●˙꒳˙●)◜

Red: “Hey Cure Curry---!!!!” [reference to Precure, see Tsukiuta’s other prank this year where they turned some characters into magical girls]

You: “Who’re you calling ‘Cure Curry’!! I’ll force-feed you curry!! *angry*”

Red: “He’s a tsundere.”

[later on, he quote-RTed this with a correction]:

Red: “Sorry, sorry, it’s Pure Curry [not Cure Curry].”

You: “Either way, I’m neither of them.”

Red: “Well I’m not Arata either, you know?”

You: “Don’t group me with you *angry*”

[ADVICE]: I’m starting a new chapter in my life, but I’m always bad at self-introductions. Please tell me if there’s something I can do to have a good grasp of it!!

Red: “Try the standard ‘syllabary composition*!’ So for me, it would be ‘shi’: I’m a happy [shiawase] person... ‘tsu’: I have an indifferent [tsurenai] attitude... ‘re’: I cook things using the microwave [renji]... ‘n’: nnn~hmmm and I’m a genial person.”

*[T/N: take a sound/syllable in JP and come up with a word that starts with that sound to describe yourself (in English, it’d be like coming up with a word for each letter of the alphabet). Heartbreak Red kind of cheated on his last one - the ‘n’ sound lol]

[MESSAGE]: Heartbreak Red!! I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!

Red: “Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuu I love you tooooooooooooooooooooo!!!”

[REQUEST]: Please give me a supportive message to help me save money in order to move to a different residence 🙋

Red: “With this 10,000 yen, your next place will be 10m^2 in area.. *saying it like an incantation*”

[REQUEST]: Call Koi-kun over~

Red: “Ay, Pink.”

Koi: “So rude~~~~!!! Could you call for me in a nicer way!!!??? I’m on stand-by!!!

Koi: “I’m everyone’s hardworking cheerleader: Kisaragi Koi! Call me Koi-kuuuuun!”

Red: “Alright, thanks. Everyone, send him off with your loudest applause.”

[ADVICE]: I’m nervous and I don’t want to go to tomorrow’s company welcome ceremony and orientation. What should I do?

Red: “I understand, I totally understand. But you should go because there’s bound to be a lot of unexpected, surprising things anyways! During difficult times, just remember me because I’m cheering for you a whole lot. Keep fighting ☆

[REQUEST]: I love Kai-kun! I become a working adult tomorrow, so could he say a few words for me? ♡

Red: “Kai-sannn!”

Kai: “Congrats on becoming a full-fledged adult! I hope you find joy in your work and that it’s something worth pursuing. I think it’s bad to dwell on just the mistakes made in life, so make sure to take a breather without working too hard during the tough times!

[REQUEST]: Dear Heartbreak Red, I want you to call on Issei and Ichiru from QUELL! I want to hear the twins’ thoughts on “unrequited love!”

Red: “Pure Hokkaido guys~~!”

Ichiru: “That’s not us!!”

Red: “Yeah, yeah. This is random, but what do you think of unrequited love?”

Issei: “Erm... Love, umm... *shy* Ichiru, what do you think?”

Ichiru: “Ehhhhh!? Um, I-!!!?? I-I still don’t.... know about stuff like love that well...”

Issei: “Me neither... I think it would be nice to experience something like unrequited love, that’s the kind of love I want to try.”

Ichiru: “Same.”

Red: “A priceless answer. Thanks, guys.”

[T/N: all of the “love” talked about here, including the “love” in unrequited love is “koi,” not “ai”]

[REQUEST]: Heartbreak Red~!!!! Call Kakerun over~~!!!!!

Red: “Kakerun - I’ll give you ice cream if you come over here.”

Kakeru: “Good evening~!! How’s everyone doing~? I’m in good spirits since I got to eat ice cream. Tomorrow is a new you! I’ll take on Angra**, so let’s keep smiling!”

**written as アンラ, I’m assuming this refers to Angra Mainyu which is a boss from Final Fantasy X-2

[OTHER] I want to know what everyone’s favorite kanji is ( *´꒳`* )

Red: “Strawberry” (苺) [of course lol]

Kakeru: “Gold” (金) [also obvious]

Red: “Oh, this has a once-in-a-lifetime meaning!!!”

Kakeru: “Ah, it matches our image color meanings too!!!!”

Koi: “You guys do know the whole business is based on our images, right? Have you been paying attention at all?”

[REQUEST]: Heartbreak Red, as well as whoever’s near you: tell us the color of your underwear!

Red: “You guys like underwear, huh. Mine are the red of victory... Well that’s what I pretend the plain grey is.”

Kakeru: “Dang, what bad timing! Mine are gold! That was a lie! Uhh~ they’re black!”

Koi: “Such a question at a time like this........Mine are red.”

[T/N: Koi’s first sentence was actually the same as Kakeru’s but idk if I got the nuanced meaning correct in Kakeru’s part so I didn’t want to copy the same thing]

[REQUEST]: What kind of lie did Rui-kun tell today on April Fools’ Day?? Please tell us!!!

Red: “Rui-rui~”

Rui: “Were you referring to Minaduki Rui (水無月涙)? I’m actually Minaduki Rui (水無月類). There’s a lot of Minaduki’s around...”

Red: “That joke’s hard to understand based on sound alone, Rui-rui.”

[T/N: Rui just changed the kanji in his first name from 涙 to 類, but both have the same pronunciation so you can’t tell unless you see it written lmao]

[REQUEST]: Please summon Heartbreak Purple and Heartbreak Green!!

Red: “Please heed my request!!! Mainly Green!!”

Green: “I dragged Purple with me ♪”

Purple: “...”

Red: “With that really reluctant face, it must be the right time to do that mean prank I was talking about earlier.”

Purple: *clench*

Green: “If you have something to say, just say it. Come on, Purple!”

Red: “Yeah come on, Purple.”

Purple: “This all started from that one magazine’s survey results, and the fact that this ‘unrequited love army’ has continued to exist worries me.”

Red & Green: “Sounds fair.”

[REQUEST]: No matter what Heartbreak Purple is doing right now, call him over and say your catchphrase together!!

Red: “Yessir!”

Green: “Yessir!”

Purple: “I learned that hesitance gives way to shame, so I’ll say the catchphase.”

Red: “All right! Lol”

Green: “Ok! Lol”

Purple: “Your heart will bea.... You guys, quit laughing *angry*. Will beat.... Ba-dump.”

[REQUEST]: Please call on Yoru-kun! I start work at a new place tomorrow, and my anxiety is unbearable - please say some encouraging words!

Red: “There’s a lot of serious concerns about the anxiety of starting a new chapter in life on April 1st, aren’t there...! Yoruru~n!”

Yoru: “Y-yes! Don’t push yourself too hard, eat properly, rest properly... Keep fighting!”

[This one wasn’t particularly interesting, but I’m a big softie for the yellow softie, Yoru lol]

[REQUEST]: Make a quick one-liner jab at Sakuraba Ryota with all your strength!

Red: “Sakurabaaaan!!!” (he did some “bam” pose) [like something triumphant]

Ryota: “... (expecting something)”

Red: “That dead-cold glare of yours... I could get used to it.”

Ryota: “Please dont.”

[I’m also a big softie for the pink tsun, Ryota. Thanks @syphiria for correcting me on this translation and also noticing all my late-night typos!!]

[REQUEST]: Spread some love to everyone!

Red: “Thanks for all your messages, everyone---!!! It’s almost time for me to go, but it’ll be great if we could meat again next year! When you’re not feeling well, just remember: I’m here, so cheer up~”

Anddd that’s all! These are actually the majority of the tweets since I skipped the more serious ones. The life advice Red gave was mostly the same for those anyways. There were a lot of requests to interact with other characters, but I loved all the cameos haha.

[jpat82]

Bad Plan

A/n: this fic that I’m adding into rotation is one I started well over a year ago. The original first chapter was over 5k words long so I’m going to have to break it up. It’s also Karl Urban, cause I mean, hello he’s gorgeous as well.

Summary: Renee had a fail proof plan to get rid of her nervousness for sending in her writing manuscripts. Audition for a movie, surely she'll get rejected.

The plan backfired and now she has to act, joining a crew of seasoned actors from Star Trek. Her quick friendship leads her down the rabbit hole with Karl Urban.

CHAPTER 1:part 1

Some of the dumbest things in my life I have done because of the phase 'meh, why not'. This however was more based on trying to get used to being rejected. You see, I'm a writer, I write fiction and screen plays. I have yet to send one to get publish or sent to be read by a director, mainly for the fear of being told 'hey, this sucks, so do your self a favor and stop wasting your time writing.' My bright idea was 'hey, let's audition for some movie roles, you'll surely be turned down multiple times and get used to it'.

So when I got a call back for a second audition my anxiety sored  through the roof and I felt like relocating to Mexico. This is not how this was supposed to go, I'm not an actor. I was supposed to be laughed at and told to bugger off.

When I received the call after the second audition and was told I got the female co lead in this movie I about choked and died. I have massive anxiety problems when in new place, new situations, and around people I don't know. This was not the plan, and just like life has always done in the past it decided to slap me face and pull the rug out beneath my feet.

“So, Renee," my sister, Rosalyn inquired with a hint of amusement in her voice as I was breathing into a paper bag, "whatchya going to do now? Can't exactly back out."

“Says who?" I sneered into the bag, sitting on the couch.

“The fact you went through both auditions," she giggled, " how's your bright idea now?"

“Bite me, rainbow bright." I leaned back into the couch, pulling the paper away from my face. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to think clearly. There was a couple saving graces about this movie set. A.) it was local, it was being filmed in and around the Oregon city area and B.) I was a no-body. I could blend in a lot easier.

“What's the name of movie? Who's going to be in it?" She pounced on to the couch next to me, I turned my head ever so slightly and just stared her. This month her hair was pale blue with hot pink roots, her ghostly colored skin was pinkened from just get done working out.

“I don't know, to either of those questions."

“How do you not know? What's was the script you read?"

“I wasn't paying attention and I can't remember. I was trying to get through the ordeal."

“Your going to make a horrible actress if you can't remember any of that." She stated, pushing up off the couch. "What about your normal job? Since it takes a couple of months to film."

“I already talked to my manager, I'm taking a leave of absence. And thanks for the ego boost."

“Your welcome!"

*****

The next few weeks after that were spent getting my rear end handed to me by a personal trainer. Who by the way, was adamant about a very strict eating schedule, which I was severely punished for daily by drinking Starbucks. I also had a trainer for learning how to fight, all of it choreographed of course but still. Most nights I came home very late and couldn't remember how I made it my bed. Just to wake up to my phone going off by Satan calling me two hours before I was supposed to work out.

My sister being the loving and caring individual she was would poke my sore muscles. Drink some wine and have her Starbucks all while telling me I couldn't have some. Yes, I knew it was revenge for the countless times I did things to pester her but still.

The first evening on set was a cast and crew get together. I learned that I was joining in on an established movie sequence. So everyone knew each other, except for me. Wonderful. Just my luck, I showed up in my ratty jeans and a nice top. I was told it was a casual occasion, no need to dress up. My short cropped hair was sporting a recent sun burn, first time I have ever had one but then again I didn't start buzzing my head till a couple months ago.

I was wandering around trying to find where we were all supposed to meet up. I found no security guards to help me out, which I thought was odd. I turned down a corridor and bumped into a gentleman.

“Oh, I'm sorry." His accent was heavy, he seemed hesitant on whether to say sir of miss.

“No, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking. I'm really lost so i keep checking my phone and I'm rattling on, sorry."

“It's okay," he chuckled, my brain was trying to get my attention but I ignored it. "I'm lost myself. Where are you headed to?"

“Some hall, I'm supposed to meet up with a bunch of people I don't know. So it’s not like I can text anybody for help." I showed him the details on my phone.

“Looks like we are headed to same place, but I know everybody. And none of them are answering their phones anyway." He smiled, something about this guy. I recognized his smile, but not his voice. Which is odd for me, normally I recognized voiced first.

“Well, isn't that nice of them." I chuckled, he was a damn good looking man.

“I guess it would be better to be lost with someone then be lost alone." He stuck his elbow out inviting me to take it.

“Sounds like a wonderful plan, People look at ya weird when you talk to yourself." Open mouth insert foot. He let out a deep chuckle.

“That's for sure." We continued to wandered the abandoned building.

“Karl!" Someone yelled from behind us, he turned his head looking over shoulder. It was dark and couldn't make out the mans voice but I knew who it was right off the bat. He jogged over. "Where the hell have you been?"

“Lost." We followed Chris as he walked back the room where everyone was. It didn't take long to figure out who I was walking with or what movie this was now. "who's your new friend?"

“Actually I never got her name."

“My name is Renee Winter."

“Ah, your going to play the new ensing." Pine flashed his pearly whites. We walked into the large hall. Easily over a hundred people, slightly loud, and I felt like a panic attack was about to hit. I must of instinctively gripped Karl's arm a bit tighter. He looked over at me with a bit of concern on his face.

“Hey, your fine. Just breathe." He whispered into my ear. "Let's go get a drink and then I'll introduce to everyone."

He ordered two drinks, I was trying to gather myself back up. He handed me something, I took a sip, it was sweet and warm despite the ice.  He made eye contact with me, and smiled.

“So what's your anxiety from? The amount of people or because of who all is in the room?" He asked, I turned my head to survey the room. Karl gently brought his knuckle up and turned my head back to face him. "Breathe, and keep looking at me."

“There's a lot of people here, and it's the complete uncertainty of the situation." I breathed out, breaking eye contact and looked down at the ground.

“You'll be fine, we can go and let you meet people one on one. Take a break and step out into the hall, get a breather in." I just nodded, slowly looking back up at him. "I have a couple close friends and family members who have anxiety. So don't worry about judgement."

He slowly lead me around the room, I faked being fine. Joking around while getting to know the cast. It was an hour into the shindig before we stepped out in the hall. I sped to the opposite wall and started to gulp down air like fish.

“No wonder they picked you. If it weren't for the death grip, I wouldn't have suspected that you any anxiety." He jested.

“Sorry, bout that." Turning, pressing my back against the cool wall. I stared at ceiling, wondering how big of an ass I was making myself out to be.

“So, tell me about yourself, Renee." He asked leaning up against the wall with me.

“Like what?"

“What other acting gigs have you done?"

“None, literally the first time auditioned."

“Seriously? Lucky break, most get turned down hundreds of times."

“I know, I was banking on that."

“Huh?" I could see the perplexed look out of the corner of my eye.

“I'm not an actor, I'm a writer. I was doing this to get used to rejection before I sent my stuff to get published. But seeing how I'm cursed, I ended up getting the part." I chuckled to myself.

“Wow, how's that going for ya?" He chuckled with me.

“You know, my sister asked me the same thing."

“Sounds like a smart lady, come on. Time to go back in there." I took a deep breath and walked back in.

“Sorry, I'm terribly late, I got lost in the building." I heard a very unmistakable British accent. Well, my sister is going to flip when I tell her this.

“No big deal, Tom. So did we." Karl replied, giving the man a hug.

“Glad to hear I wasn't the one." Tom chuckled back.

“Tom, this is Renee. She's also new to the Star Trek world." Tom took my hand a gently shook it.

“Pleasure to meet you." He smiled, yeah, my sister was going to murder me in my sleep.

“Nice to meet you too." The rest of the night was just greeting and making small chat. The end of the night Karl walked me back to my car. "Seriously though, thank you. I don't think I would of made it. I would of stood awkwardly in the corner the whole time, looking at my phone every two minutes."

“No big deal. So what hotel do they have you staying at?" We finally reached my car, I grin back at him.

“The beauty of this, I get to go home every night. I live local."

“Lucky duck." He laughed, "kinda jealous."

“Yeah, but I don't get room service. I mean I could try yelling at my sister to make me food but she's a chef and hates coming home to cook. So she would probably poison my food."

“Yeah, don't do that." I opened my car and sat in the seat. "See you tomorrow?"

“Yeah, I'm supposed to be at the make up trailer at 5am. So I'll probably be up earlier, knowing satan." He gave me a weird look. "The personal trainer they gave me."

“Ah." He laughed. I started my car and waved before I left.

*****

“So, tell me." I had just barely cracked the door open.

“Not even going to let me walk in." She was waiting on the couch like black panther.

“Nope, what movie? Who's it in? And no spoilers."

“The new Star Trek, the usual suspects. And I can't tell you all the crew with out giving you any spoilers." I smirked.

“Hang on, what do you mean you can't tell me all the crew without giving me spoilers?!"

“Because someone is in it that normally isn't. And you said no spoilers." I smirk walking into my room.

“Renee Abigail Winter! I'm not done talking to you!" She yelled following me.

“Rosalyn Amy Winter, you told me not to tell you." I flopped onto my bed, repressing my urge to laugh.

“Come on, Renee. Tell me." She pleaded, I shook my head.

“Oh, look at the time, it's midnight and I have to be at work at 5am. I really do need to get some rest now." I feigned a yawn, I was tired but this was far more entertaining.

“Please?!" She was hopeless, if I didn't tell I would get no sleep. If I did tell, well, I probably get no sleep.

“How about how this, I'll text you tomorrow when I get a chance. Because I really do have to get some sleep."

“Fine." Her voice was full of rejection as she slid off the bed. "You better remember."

@kitkatkl

[c4t1l1n4]

My Own Versions of You

We all have our own versions of the Sanders Sides, and I’d like to think that mine are as happy as the next persons. I mean, sure, they’d vary from person to person, the way they look, the way that they act and what we call them, but overall we’re not too different. Maybe it’s just the way we utilize them that’s different. Maybe someone who’s considered to be smart just uses their Logan more than others and a more creative person relies more on Roman to help them out, but I’d like to think that my Patton won’t be depressed like I was. No, I’d like to think that there’s more than just the four sides up in my brain.

They’d wake up early on school days like I do, though sometimes Patton would wake up earlier to make food, or sometimes Virgil wouldn’t have really slept any that night, but he’d make sure I did. And as they walk down the stairs into the common room, they’d see all the demon’s hovering outside through the windows and they’d sigh, preparing themselves for the day that lie ahead. Patton would cook breakfast regardless of the number of demons and they’d all sit down at the table in the kitchen of the mind palace as I sat down to eat breakfast of my own. Logan would keep time management under control so I wouldn’t be late to school and Patton would start out the day with a few reassuring thoughts to boost my mood. Logan would sit down with Virgil, who at this point had started to worry about all the in coming deadlines, and they’d sort out which ones to worry about first. Roman would distract me from worrying too much by prompting me to talk to my friends and go through social media while I waited for class to start.

Once Virgil was settling down, Patton would sit with him while Logan went to go deal with Roman, who was tempting me to check my phone instead of playing attention in class. They’d fight for a bit, but Logan usually won, paying close attention and making sure all the notes I took during science were accurate. Sometimes, when I’d have a question, Virgil would prompt me to keep quiet and Roman would encourage me to just blurt it out, but after a moment of bickering, they’d compromise and I’d just raise my hand. Sometime during the course of my first class Roman would have to excuse himself, because all this science has getting to him, and by this point, a few demons have slipped into the common room. Roman would fight them off, while Patton would reassure Virgil that it was all going to be ok. That the demons weren’t his fault, depression was an entirely different beast that appeared one day, and that they’d find a way to get rid of it eventually. But for now, Patton would smiled down at Virgil and hold him tight to his chest and reassure both me and him, that everything truly was going to be alright.

By the time the bell rung and I had to make my way to second period, Roman had killed a few demons and Logan had offered his help, using his knowledge to kill a few more. The four of them would convince me to rise to my feet, and to grab all my things, so I could trudge down the hall to my second period. Roman would be more of a help in this class, because he somehow knows Spanish, but Logan convinces him not to feed me all the answers. So Roman lays off, and lets me learn some, but the two make sure to check on Virgil and Patton at some point, to make sure they’re ok and that no more demons have made their way in. Patton will destroy the stray one that makes it’s way in through the crack in the window with his positive energy and every once and awhile, Virgil can drown out a demon or two. So I’ll make it through Spanish class and then Patton will give me the motivation to move because the next thing is lunch and that means we’re halfway there.

I’ll go find a classroom to sit in for lunch because the lunchroom is too noisy for Logan and too crowded for Virgil, and Roman will distract me by talking to my friends while the other three go assess how many more demons have escaped into the common room. They’ll fight them off, though sometimes Virgil will go and find Roman, opting to sit with him instead, using their playful teasing to distract himself from the ‘what ifs’ that he’s listing in his head. The others will come back after a while, Patton going to the kitchen to make food for the four of them, and Virgil occasionally offering to help. Logan will remind Roman that I too have to eat, and he’ll explain to me logically that I need food to survive and starving yourself won’t benefit anyone. If that doesn’t work, Patton will yell something from the kitchen that makes my stomach growl and Roman will prompt me to take a friend along, because they’ll walk with me. Some days, I’ll listen, and they’ll sit down to eat as I do but on others, I’m just too tired to move so I’ll end up eating whatever junk food my friend has left over from their lunch. On those days, Logan will sigh frustrated, and Virgil will mutter something about it not being healthy, but Patton reminds them that it’s better than the days when I don’t eat anything at all. Those are the days where they can’t convince me to get up and no one has any extra food, so they just give up as the end of lunch nears, feeling guilty as they sit down to eat whatever Patton has made. Virgil doesn’t eat on those days either, and he know that there’s nothing he really can do to help me out because he feels the same way, so instead he just chooses to tough it out with me. Sometimes, Patton will convince him to at least eat something, even if it is just a bite or two, but most of the time, Virgil will just sit at the table there with them, refusing to eat at all.

Everyone is tired at this point, and depending on how much I ate or how alone I was during lunch, more demons would have made their way into the common room. Virgil sits in with Logan as I make my way up four flights of stairs to my history class, Patton convincing me that I can do it. I’m almost there. Almost at the top. Roman tells me that I’m with my friends, so just talk and the distance will practically disappear. They eventually wander off to the common room to destroy any more beasts that depression has sent my way, Virgil enjoying the history class and Logan making sure I stay on task. I’ll do my work most of the time, but sometimes I’ll be out of it and Virgil reminds Logan that it’s not due until tomorrow, so it is ok to take a break. We can do it later. Sometimes the notes will seem to drag on forever, and Logan will make sure I get every single one, but even he gets fed up after a while because this class never seems to end.

Finally the bell will ring and Roman will come trudging back in, Patton close behind. Roman will plop down into a chair and Patton will sit on the floor next to him. They’ll convince me that it’s a short walk, I have friends in my next class and at least I’m walking down stairs this time. Besides, the next class is the last class of the day before I can finally go home. Logan will be glad to let Roman take control for my creative writing class, and he can always edit the grammar later. Him and Virgil will take a breather while Roman and Patton work, though they’ll make sure to fight off anything that tries to peek it’s nasty head inside my brain. Sometimes, Roman will begin to feel particularly confident about what’s been written, so he’ll volunteer to read one of the warm-up writing to the class, Virgil not realizing until it’s too late. Virgil will rush into the room and demand to know what exactly Roman thought he was doing, until Roman explained himself and Virgil began to panic. Logan would come and get him, coaxing him back to the couch while getting him to calm down and actually breath. Logan would find a scrap piece of paper and they’d make a list of everything that could go wrong, Logan making sure to get each and everyone of Virgil’s worries, before gently going through, explaining why that’s not realistic. This would ground Virgil, and he’d thank Logan afterwards, tearing up the list as if to prove he wasn’t worried anymore. Meanwhile, Roman would remind himself that wasn’t a good idea, and he’d make sure to avoid doing it again. Then him and Patton would go to town, supplying ideas and smiling happily as all the pieces of the novel that was being written fell into place.

Soon the last bell of the day would ring, signaling that school was over and Roman would reluctantly stop brainstorming, though he’d write down the ideas he had so he could have them for tomorrow. Logan and Virgil would join the other two in the room and they’d all sit together as I walked home. Virgil would lean on Patton and Logan would make sure that I kept one foot in front of the other as he worked with Virgil to keep me alert. So what if Roman continued to brainstorm a little more as I walked, Logan could handle ten minutes of fantasy. He knew it would take a while for Roman to come down from his creative high anyway. And as I made it to the front door of my house, Virgil could finally relax, for we were back in the familiar environment that was our home. I’d trudge to my room, plopping down and pulling out my computer, getting ready to do my homework. Logan would fuss at Roman who insisted I go through social media first, and Patton would remind the logical side that we’d be working all day, so a half hour break wouldn’t kill anyone. Roman would whine as I began to scroll through Tumblr, but Virgil would smirk and perk up a bit, so it didn’t bother Roman as much as he made it seem. Sometimes I’d spend more than just half an hour on Tumblr, and Logan would prompt me to actually be productive so I could get everything done before dinner. And I would, the four of them making sure I ate something for a snack, especially if it was one of those days that I had decided to skip out on lunch.

I’d finish all my homework and I’d dump my backpack off into the corner, getting called to eat shortly after. Patton would groggily stand to his feet, Roman often helping him, for everyone had done their fair share of demon fighting for the day, and they’d all help Patton get ready for dinner. They’d all eat when I ate, for I regularly eat dinner and the kitchen table would be full of stories from what had happened throughout the day. After dinner was finished, I’d make my way back to my bedroom and curl up on my bed with YouTube, catching up on all the videos that had been posted for the day. Everyone would make their way to the common room while I was distracted and get rid of the demons that had gathered there while they were at their weakest, feeling relief wash over them because there weren’t that many left. Then they’d all just kinda plop down on the couch together, finally getting a chance to stop and rest, for they had been working hard all day. They’d all just talk though Virgil wouldn’t contribute much, because he’d be too busy staring at the constant downpour of rain that fell outside the windows, a constant reminder that everything might not be as happy as it seems. Patton would share how he was feeling, how I was feeling, and everyone made sure that he’d be alright. That I’d be alright.

Patton would be the first one to head off to bed, for he usually got up the earliest in the mornings and Roman would follow shortly after, leaving Logan and Virgil on the couch. They’d stay up for a while more, before Logan would get up, saying something about needing 7 - 8 hours of sleep, before leaving Virgil by himself. And when I ran out of videos to watch, the two of us would just kind of sit there, sad and reflecting. Virgil would feel bad, because he knew as I sat there and stared at the wall with music coursing through my ears, that he couldn’t do much to defend me from any demons that came in.They’d haunt him just as much as they bothered me, but neither of us move to get help. Eventually, he’d seen the clock, and point out that it was getting late, so I’d force myself onto my feet and got ready for bed. He’d just smile to himself as I laid down and drifted off to sleep, because on nights where the rain pattered on the window softly and I slept without a hitch, he reminded himself that maybe, just maybe one day… everything would be alright.

And on those Saturdays where I just lay in my bed after sleeping in for a few hours, Patton would be the only one awake with me and he’d send positive thoughts to fill my mind. And he’d sit, and smile and reassure himself that it’s gonna be alright.

And on the days when I get back a test with a good grade, Roman would smile as he felt a warm, bubbly feeling in his chest for that meant my low self esteem was rising, even just a little bit. So he’d shuffle over to Logan and they’d share a knowing glance, and Roman would lay his head on Logan’s shoulder and Logan would wrap an arm around his shoulders and they’d look proudly over what they’ve accomplished together. And after it had been silent for a while, Logan would quietly point out that one day it would be alright.

And on those nights when they were all huddled on the couch together, and they could hear my laughter from the videos I was watching, they would all smile to each other and promise that one day, one day it would be alright.

-----------

Quick little idea that I had for a story about the Sanders Sides

@thatsthat24

[fangirlofmany98]

Harry Styles Imagine

Imagine you are a songwriter and are good friends with Harry and he invites you to write with him.

You flick through all the channels on your TV for what seems like the longest time. You sigh, nothing catching your interest. On your days off your forced yourself to relax as they happened rarely but you were absolutely bored out of your mind. “I love my work way too much” you whisper to yourself, finally settling on the cooking channel. A few minutes later you felt your phone buzz beside you, you pick it up and check it to find one of your good friends Harry text you.

Hazza: Hey love, just wondering if you’re free at all today? x

Reading the text he sent you, you smiled. He had picked the best day to ask you. You text back quickly.

Y/N: Yeah I am, why what’s up?

Hazza: I booked out a studio for 4 hours to do some writing and was wondering if you’d like to join? x

Y/N: I would love to Haz! What time do you want me to be there?

Hazza: Great! In about an hour? x

Y/N: See you then :)

Hazza: See you soon love. x

You got up from the couch and switched off the TV and happily skipped to your room. What Harry didn’t know is that for a little while now, your feelings for Harry had grown. You weren’t quite sure what these feelings were at the start, but once you knew what they were, they were hard to ignore. But nevertheless, you still pushed them to the side. You would never tell him. What if he didn’t feel the same way and it jeopardised your friendship? Another thought was that if you guys did get together but then broke up, things would never be able to go back to the way they used to be. These sad thoughts and worries were enough to scare you from telling Harry the truth. Losing Harry is a thought you could not bear, you wanted him in your life, even if it meant just as friends.

After what seemed like forever you picked a plain white t-shirt, black jeans, black jacket and your favourite black pair of boots Harry bought for you at Christmas last year. You went back into the living room and grabbed your phone and then your car/house keys off the kitchen bench. After making sure the house was locked you got into your Black Mercedes C-Class Sedan and headed off to the studio. The half an hour car ride seemed to drag on and on, but your mind constantly kept going back to Harry. “I need to stop this madness. I can’t pursue this, I just can’t. God why are you such an idiot Y/N, falling for someone you can’t have” you angrily said to yourself.

When you reached the studio gate you rolled your window down once you were beside a man in a black suit. “Hey Tom.” You smiled at him. “Oh hey Y/N, go on in.” He smiled back at you and then talked into his microphone letting them know to open the gate. Once the gate was open you gave him a small wave which he returned and you drove on in. Whilst looking for a park, your heartbeat picked up as you saw Harry’s car. “I know he’s here, what are you doing Y/N” you scolded yourself. You parked your car right next to his and turned off the ignition. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath and then got out, locking your car behind you before making your way inside. Sienna, the receptionist looked up at you as you walked in and gave you a small smile. “They’re on the second floor, studio 2B.” You gave her a nod, thanking her and made your way into the elevator and up unto the second floor. 2B was to your right, pretty much as soon you walked out the elevator. You grabbed the doorknob and opened the door to be greeted by Jeffrey Azoff, Jeff Bhasker, Mitch and of course Harry. You closed the door behind and then greeted everyone individually. You make your way to the black leather couch and sat yourself on Harry’s left as Mitch was on his right and you guys got to work.

—- About 27 minutes later —-

“Harry mate, what’s up? You seem kind of down all of a sudden.” You hear Jeffrey say and you look up from your phone to Harry. His eyes, slightly sad as he was looking up at Jeffrey. “Yeah I’m, uh fine. I just need a breather if that’s okay.” Jeffrey nodded and Harry got up leaving his notebook behind. But about 15 minutes had passed and Harry still hadn’t returned. You were getting a little worried about him, so you put your phone in your pocket and stood up, “I’m going to go check on him, be back soon.” you said to everyone and everyone either gave you a nod or hummed in response. You knew exactly where he’d be as that’s where you always go if you need a minute to yourself also. You went down the elevator to the first floor and made your way out the back door. The cold air hit you first, making you shiver slightly as you walked out. The sky was overcast today, nothing new for London, because it pretty much was everyday. You looked to your right to see Harry sitting on a park bench with his head down in his hands and his elbows resting on his thighs. You walk over to him and sit down next to him, sitting slightly sideways to look at him. He didn’t budge at all. He stayed in the same exact position. “Penny for your thoughts?” you said after 30 seconds of silence. He sighed and got up from his position and looked at you and then in front of him. Although he looked at you ever so briefly, it was enough to catch a glimpse of those emerald eyes which were slightly glossy.

“I’ve just been feeling a bit down recently so I thought coming to the studio and writing would be therapeutic but I was mistaken. I came out here to gather my thoughts and they’ve become a bit…overwhelming I guess. ” he said, still staring ahead. “What’s got you down in the dumps?” You asked. “Just a lot of things, been thinking about about Robin and how much I miss him. I’ve also been thinking about my future and who I want to spend it with.” your heart fluttered slightly at that. “I feel like I’m getting towards the age where I wanna start thinking about marriage and about having kids but…” he shrugged. “Well is there anyone you fancy?” You asked him. “There is this one girl. She is sweet, funny and caring. She always puts her needs before others because that’s how compassionate she is. She always knows how to cheer you up when you’re down because she hates it when others are sad. I find myself falling for her more and more every single day. Even if I don’t see her, if I get one text from her or see an instagram post of hers, a tweet, anything. Even just thinking about her, you know. I-I find myself so consumed in my own thoughts of her and I find it so heavenly. But what if she doesn’t feel the same, I don’t want to lose our friendship.” He sighs sadly.

You smile sadly. That’s exactly how you feel about him. “You should really tell her how you feel. She sounds like such a lucky girl. I’d give anything to have someone think about me like that…I’ll tell you what, how about you organise to meet up with her the next time you both are free. That is definitely something that should be said in person.” Harry looked at you, smiling slightly and nodding. “You’re absolutely right, I’ll call her right now.” He stood up and took his phone out. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Come back in when you’re done.” You got up and walked back inside.

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket as soon as got inside. You fetched it out of your pocket to see the name “Hazza” appear on your phone screen. You laughed and decided to walk back out to him. He’d obviously heard your footsteps and turned around grinning at you. Harry hung up the phone and put it away. You continued to walk over to him, grinning at him also. “I feel the same way.” Was all you said before you felt him grab you gently and put his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate and lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away. He held you close against his chest for a minute, giving the both of time to recover from that kiss. You both then pulled away and looked at each other adoringly. “Are you free tomorrow at about 11:30?” You nodded, “I sure am.”

“Well we best be going back inside. We have just under 3 hours left in the studio. Come on.” He gestured towards the building. You followed him back inside and back into the studio you guys were in previously. You and Harry were grinning from ear to ear and giggling like little kids when you guys walked in. Jeffrey, Mitch and Jeff all looked at you guys and smirked, suspecting what had happened back outside. Both you and Harry blushed and sat back down on the couch. “I can’t believe that actually happened”, you thought and looked up at Harry. He met your gaze and then his hand reached out for the side of your face, then he proceeded to bring your head to his lips and kissed your forehead. And that was how it all started…

[adrift-in-writing]

A Mother’s Legacy, Chapter 2

Set two years after the first chapter, a lot of time and a lot of events have considerably passed within Vriska’s life.

The plot takes place in modern day London, England and follows Mindfang trying to explain to her granddaughter - Selina Serket - the complexity of Vriska’s illness after Selina is unaware why her mother isn’t home some days.

Short and bittersweet with following a format I’m trying to get into.

It was in the evening, and the weather in London wasn’t particularly cold, nor was it hot. A cool breeze would occasionally pass by, and the clouds had obscured the sun due to set in an hour or two. Little Selina, merely two years old - a sweep in Alternian time - had been playing outside with little Spidermom. She had the white spider cupped in her hands playing peek-a-boo while Spidermom hissed gleefully.

Out in the distance near the house, Mindfang watched over the small child. Her laughter and youth brought her joy, but it was getting late. Vriska would not be home until a little later in the night; her monthly check-up for her illness was today of all days. After a few minutes, Mindfang chuckled and yelled out. “Selina! Get back in here, dear! Sun’s getting low...”

Selina turned around, eyes widening. “Mam!” She squeaked. Delicately, the young child held Spidermom in her hands to avoid squishing her to bits. Selina ran forward, almost tripping over herself in joy of seeing what she assumed was her own mother. “You’re home, mam!” She held up the little Spidermom for Mindfang to hold onto. She obliged, and chuckled as she let the spider rest on her shoulder.

After a few moments, Selina began tugging at Mindfang’s little pajama pants. She wanted a hug, and Mindfang chuckled. “Oh, darling Selina. You’ve still not seen the difference, have you? I’m your grandmother.” She picked her up and lifted her up. Almost a few seconds later, the young child booped Mindfang on the nose and giggled.

“But you two look so similar!” Selina had said. Not surprisingly, Mindfang closed the door and nodded. Without making them stand side-by-side, she and her own daughter would look near identical if not for the glasses and taller set of forked and hooked horns.

Mindfang nuzzled the child in her belly and Selina giggled further. Spidermom had gone elsewhere, moving down the cerulean blood’s arm to go hunt down an insect over in the distance.  “Your ‘mam’ is not home yet, lass. For now, enjoy grandma’s presence.”

The young child whined. “Aww! But she promised!” She pouted, but Mindfang shushed her and pressed her lips together.

“I know, sweetie. I know. But, my daughter is sick, and she needs to visit the doctor to get better.” Mindfang then stopped and lowered Selina down to her lap, ruffling the small child’s hair.

“But why is my mam sick?” Selina had asked rather quietly.

The smile on Mindfang disappeared. It was going to be hard to describe schizophrenia to a small child, let alone for her to even comprehend it. She pursed her lips and tried to formulate words. “Well...she...got into bad trouble long ago.”

“Is she okay?” The young child was curious at this point. It was vague, and rather confusing to her. Who could ever hurt her mother? This, too, was also a question that bugged Mindfang for some time. She simply nodded and hummed. Selina was still curious for more, and she had proceeded to ask her grandma more about it.

The question made her freeze in place just for a bit, before she relaxed and tried to make up a story. “Something terrible happened.One fine morning, all of her friends disappeared. She was alone, and very sad. She could still hear them sometimes, but they were never really there.” A deep sigh escaped Midnfang’s lips and she pondered. How can I make this kid-friendly but also not too serious? An idea popped up almost immediately.

“An evil and cruel being came to her doorstep one day and said it’s going to stay with her.” The taller Serket said. She was trying to beat around the bush and be delicate, biting her lower lip. “That...creature is still here. Sometimes it comes to her and makes her sad again.”

She took a small breather and remained silent for a bit. Selina was still innocently looking onwards, waiting on her grandma to finish. “It’s been living with her for 12 years now. Every time she gets better, it comes back even more cruel.”

Selina frowned and whimpered just a little. “No fair! I hope mam beats that evil monster!” The young child curled her fists up and growled, but it did make Mindfang laugh just a bit. “She has been beating it, Selina. Ever since you were hatched, she’s been beating it back a lot. You help her so much...you’ve no idea.” She smiled, and leaned in to give a peck on Selina’s cheek. “Such a good girl, supporting your mother in times of need.”

The little girl smiled a toothy grin, as if she had just heard the best news of her life. “Good! I hope it goes away. Nobody should ever hurt my mam!” She bounced up and down on Mindfang’s lap before the taller Serket proceeded to boop the young child’s nose for earlier.

“Your mother will be fine. She’ll be well, just you watch!” She tried to motivate her granddaughter, and for now it seemed to work. Selina cheered and then gave her grandma a small hug. Mindfang chuckled and stroked the nape of her granddaughter’s hair. “Precious little one.”

The sound of a door opened up, and Mindfang was the first to hear of it. “Speaking of...she’s home.” She grinned, revealing her own fangs. Selina’s eyes widened and she quickly jumped off of her grandma, yelling out ‘mam’ while running towards the door. The taller cerulean-blood followed suit, grabbing her Pyralspite cane and stood herself up. It had been about time her daughter returned home.

In stepped Vriska, a little tired but glad she was home. Her eyes were a little orange - signs indicating she was crying a little while earlier - but nonetheless she wasn’t now. She began untying her red shoes and put them in the drawer. The sound of her daughter calling out brightened her up, and before she knew it, the little ‘pitter-patter’ of Selina’s footsteps caused her to smile. “Well hey, if it ain’t lil’ Scuttlebutt! C’mere, you!” Vriska laughed and picked up Selina off of the ground. She smooched her cheek and brushed her hair, nuzzling the child’s nose. Her daughter’s delighted squees of joy made her forget about what happened earlier today.

Out in the living room, Mindfang slowly approached whilst holding her cane, twirling it around in her fingers. She knew her daughter had been crying. She could see it in her eyes, and without even saying a word, Vriska let Selina down. “Go upstairs, kiddo. I’ll meet you in a bit, and then we can watch Miraculous Ladybug like I promised!”

Selina nodded and then went up the stairs on her own. Vriska took off the other shoe and then her own mom poked her with the cane. “So, ‘mam’, are you ever going to adjust how she says mom?”

The Serket chuckled and shrugged. “Maybe. I could teach her this weekend. Gotta admit it’s cute, though.” Vriska walked to her jacket closet and hung up her jacket, leaving her with a tank-top with the Scorpio symbol on the front. “You’re probably wondering why my eyes are bloodshot, aren’t you.”

Mindfang nodded. “You know me all too well, lass. Did you see...her?”

Just a simple nod from Vriska. She sighed and shook her head. “She was there. First time in a year. She’s still legally able to see me during medical visits.” Vriska pulled out a list of documents and handed it to her mother to see.  “My illness is...slightly better, according to the doctor. Doesn’t mean jack shit when I have to see her again, though.”

The taller Serket sighed and rubbed her temple. This was not good, especially after what had happened the last time. “And what happened?”

“What do you think happened, mom? We argued. There’s nothing any different every single time we see each other now.”

“I know, but...what for this time?”

Vriska went silent. She stared at the wall in front of her and tried to remember what they were at each other’s throats for. It made no sense in her head right now. Whether it be her illness, or sheer tiredness of having to see her despicable face again, she didn’t know. She didn’t care. She brushed the hair with her palm and shrugged again.

“Her reckless attitude. Her incessant dealings with her new girlfriend. Trying to chide me; make me jealous that I’m not with her. Not like she gives a damn, she doesn’t even seem to remember we had a child together.” She muttered bitterly the last sentence. It made no sense to her, but the past is the past, and it should stay that way. She rubbed her mouth and shook her head again. None of that should matter today. 

“You know, it’s funny. We move to England while she still lives in the States, and she still bothers to try to berate me for what happened.” Vriska couldn’t understand it either, but again. None of that should matter to her right now.

That was all Mindfang needed to know for now. It wouldn’t make a lick of a difference if they’d continue this conversation on a sour note. She clicked her tongue and slacked her posture momentarily. “I suppose we’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I’m sure your daughter’s waiting.”

“And what about you, Aranea?” Vriska lifted up her chin and started heading upstairs, with Mindfang in tow. “What’re you gonna do for tonight? ‘cause I’m cooking later.”

Mindfang smiled. Her daughter hadn’t called her Aranea in a long while, so it was nice to hear her say her proper name. “I’ll join you later tonight. I need to take a look at these notes. Wouldn’t want Selina worrying, right?” She chuckled and stuck out her tongue at her daughter in a teasing manner. 

“No, of course not.”  Vriska laughed and went to her own room to get changed.  Her daughter had been sitting on the bed playing with a Marinette plushie whilst cackling. She thought herself as the next villain Ladybug would face, and it made the cerulean-blood chuckle.

Just for tonight, she wished it to go away. Just for tonight, let her be with her loving daughter. With a flick of a switch and a few keystrokes on her husktop connected to the T.V, the next episode of Miraculous Ladybug started and Vriska placed little Selina between her crossed legs.