#anyway crying bye I’m throwing myself off the roof

[i-just-really-like-renga]

Y’all I’m freaking out. Im rewatching sk8 again and just had a Revelation. I though it was kind of odd the first time I watched episode 8 and Langa asked his mom if it was ‘going to be sunny tomorrow’ but I never really gave it much thought until today when I watched it again and I remembered someone saying Reki’s name means sun and I-

He’s not asking his mom about the weather. He’s asking her if Reki is going to come back. I. Am going to be sick.

[ickle-ronniekins]

placing bets

request from anon: A fluffy, soft, and pining George please? Like, he was really young when he fell in love with her upon first meeting—he made a joke that caused her to laugh, and he just found it to be the most beautiful sound and was smitten ever since. 😭❤️

word count: 3.9k

A/N: i love a pining, head over heels, irrevocably in love george with a girl who knows it and is totally going to make him work... bye i’m crying

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added!

Your laugh seems to echo across the entire Quidditch pitch. Okay, not really, but it’s both loud and soft at the same time in George’s ears, and it floats in the air between you both, and he’s desperately clinging to the sound of it—just like he does whenever you laugh. Just like he did when you were both eight years old and met for the first time in the village outside of Ottery St. Catchpole all those years ago, after having shown you a magic trick when you giggled yourself into oblivion.

In love with you right then, he was.

“You’re not allowed to laugh at me,” he teases you now. His voice is calm and steady in his ears and he’s thankful that he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. He rebalances himself on his broomstick after nearly falling off and peers at you with a smirk.

“I’m sorry—but you can’t expect me to not laugh when you do something as silly as try and surf on your broomstick, George.”

His feet finally touch the ground, and much to his dismay he sees the rest of the team emerging from the changing rooms, undoubtedly gearing up for tryouts. He swallows over a lump in his throat when both Harry and Fred nod at him from the other end of the pitch. He knows he’s a fantastic bloody beater, but the fact that you’re going to be watching tryouts with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione are making him feel less confident than before. He stands up straighter to try and push these feelings away. It doesn’t work. You seem to notice.

“Hey,” you say after a moment and place a hand on his shoulder, “you’ll be great. Just try not to fall off of your broom this time, okay?”

A laugh escapes his lips and he says to you as you make your way toward the stands, “Well I bloody hope I don’t fall, since I’ll be spending the majority of this tryout doing my very best to impress you, anyway.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, but he sees a rosy pink color flood your cheeks. “Best focus on the bludgers, Georgie, don’t want any of them to whack you, yeah?”

He laughs again, takes a deep breath, and turns toward his teammates. Fred is looking at him with raised eyebrows and a laugh so sweet it could cure an illness. Once he realizes that you’re now out of earshot, Fred teasingly slings an arm around his twin’s shoulders, turns to Harry and asks, “He’s been in love for the longest bloody time—how much longer d’you reckon before he finally does something about it?”

“I dunno, mate,” Harry says and kicks George playfully in the shin, “he’s been pining for what—eight, nine years now? Give it another five or so, I reckon he’ll be able to maybe ask her out then.”

“I’ll be sure to send bludgers toward the both of you today, then,” George replies with a mischievous grin as the other two fall into raucous laughter. He peers up at the stands, easily finding you sitting with his siblings and Hermione, and when you finally look up and meet his gaze, you wiggle your eyebrows at him, and wink.

Like George seriously needs to be sent into overdrive before what is arguably the most important Quidditch tryout of his entire life. He does his hardest to nudge Fred very hard in the ribs when all he can hear are snickers and kissing noises in his ear.

— -

George peers up at the very dark, cloudy gray ceiling in the Great Hall. He absolutely hates it when it rains. He’s looking particularly grumpy as he listens to the thunder clap outside the tall windows. He’s sipping rather moodily on his pumpkin juice when you plop down next to him and say, “Brighten up, would you, Weasley? Why the long face?”

“It’s raining,” Fred replies before George can catch his breath and answer you himself, “Georgie hates it when it rains.”

“Why?” you ask suddenly, scooping a bit of vegetables onto your dinner plate, “We’ve known each other for so long, how have I never known this about you? I love it when it‘s raining! The sound of the pitter-patter on the roof, the way the grounds smell right before a rainstorm—it’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Don’t ramble on too much, Y/N,” Fred says, again. George can’t seem to get a word in edgewise. “George might just try and make it rain all the bloody time if you love it so much.”

You turn to George, who’s rib cage is being flooded with butterflies. He tries to ignore it. He grins cheekily at you when you raise your eyebrows and inquire, “Is that so? Trying to impress me more, are you?”

“Can’t help myself,” he replies with a wink.

“I’ll get you to enjoy the rain one day—for real. You can count on it. You’ve got to find the beauty in everyday life.”

He wants to tell you, when he peers into your sparkling eyes and feels the nerves grow stronger, that he already does find the beauty in everyday life. Instead, he asks, “Mmm, is that a promise?”

“Most definitely.”

“If you don’t mind,” Fred stands up from his place across from you and looks in the direction of Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny and winks at his twin, “I’m going to go and have a chat with that lot while George continues to embarrass himself with his rubbish flirting.”

George is upset when he realizes that Fred is far enough away from him that he’s unable to kick him quite hard underneath the table. But then, much to his surprise—and delight—you respond to Fred with, “His flirting isn’t rubbish.” Then, you turn to George with a slight little smirk and continue, “it’s quite cute, actually.”

George finds himself biting down on his lip to keep from smiling too much as he watches you twirl your spoon carefully in your fingers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I swear to Merlin,” Fred says under his breath, but both you and George are still able to hear him.

“Oi! Get over here, you three!” Ron calls from a few seats down. Hermione rolls her eyes when he continues, “We’re placing bets on how the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match is going to go next week—first of the year!”

Fred jumps in between Ginny and Ron and begins animatedly discussing the first match. To you, George shrugs his shoulders and says, “We’ve been summoned.”

“Too bad,” you say, picking up your bag to take your spot next to Hermione before continuing with a bit of flirty sarcasm in your voice, “that little smirk of yours was getting me all flustered.”

The banter between you both hardly gets George all worked up anymore. In fact, it’s pretty normal for the two of you, and has been for years. But sometimes, he finds himself thinking now, you’ll say something, or do something, or bat those beautiful long eyelashes at him and he feels nothing but nervousness take him over. This is one of those times. You notice the tension rising between you both, alongside the cherry red color now flooding his face. You squeeze his arm and say playfully, “C’mon now, Georgie—we’ve got bets to place.”

Another bout of nervousness creeps up on him when you pull him by his arm and you place yourself down next to Hermione. Harry, Ginny and Fred are all discussing the upcoming matches very animatedly, Ron is pulling at his hair due to confusion and stress, Hermione is immersed in her spell book, but when George looks down, all he can focus on is the very small amount of space on the bench between his hand and yours.

— -

The sun is flooding the Hogwarts grounds, and it’s quite warm for an autumn afternoon. George, Fred, Lee, Harry, Ron, and Neville are all sitting beneath a tree near the water’s edge, certainly not working on the assignments they’d planned on doing, but instead, engaging in what could only be described as tomfoolery and a complete and utter waste of time.

Fred is laying in the grass, one hand behind his head, the other twirling his wand in between his fingers. He’s saying something to the others, there’s a bit of mock laughter floating through the air, but all George can do is watch you up near the castle, immersed in a conversation with Ginny and Luna and a few other students, and he can’t help but smile as he watches you place your bag gently on the ground and proceed to engage in some type of hopscotch-like jumps.

When Lee throws his hands up at the fact that George is completely ignoring him, Ron shoves his older brother playfully and says to the others, “You’ll have to excuse him.”

“You see,” Fred continues, “little Georgie here is quite in love—”

“—and he can’t seem to focus on anything,” Harry finishes.

“Shove off,” George retorts before sticking out his foot to trip Ron, which sends his younger brother into the grass while another roar of raucous laughter echoes across the grounds.

“So Georgie,” Ron says, getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off of his robes, “today the day then, mate? Finally going to tell her how you feel?”

Fred chimes in with his eyes closed, “He doesn’t need to tell her how he feels, he makes it rather obvious, doesn’t he? I reckon she’s known for years.” In his heart of hearts, George knows this, too. He doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s mad for you. But he wonders, now, as he watches you laugh at something Ginny says, if you know deep down how he truly feels. Do you just see it as him being playful, overly friendly—flirting just for the sake of it? Or can you really tell that he actually does have feelings for you?

It’s as if his thoughts alone call out like a signal to you, because he’s taken by surprise when you peer up at him when he’s not fully prepared, and you wink. And there they are. Those butterflies again. He smirks mischievously at you.

“Settle down, you lot,” Fred says rather politically to the crowd of rambunctious boys. George finds himself finally coming back to the conversation after being a bit distracted yet again. Always letting his mind wander, he is. “All in favor of placing bets on when Georgie, here, finally makes a move? Yes, Lee—I am planning on winning this one, actually, nobody knows my twin better than me.”

“I’d like in on these bets,” George says suddenly, taking the entire group by surprise.

“You can’t place a bet on yourself,” Ron says through laughter.

Harry and Neville say together, “I think he should be allowed.” Harry continues, “Would make for quite the adventure, don’t you reckon?”

Fred peers at George, who’s standing now, with his hands in his pockets, glimpsing back and forth between you and his friends, waiting patiently for his twin to make a decision. A very slow decision, George comes to realize.

“Alright then, George,” Fred finally agrees, sticking out his hand for a very professional, firm handshake, “you’re in. What’ve you got for us?”

“Give me a week,” George says. A week? There’s no denying that George Weasley’s a confident bloke, but when it comes to confessing his feelings to the girl he’s been pining over for years, well—even hearing himself say it now sends a bit of a chill down his spine. “Seven days. If I don’t do anything by Sunday evening’s feast, you lot win. Alright?”

George looks around the group, each and every one of the boys has raised eyebrows. But they all nod in agreement, and the feeling of dread suddenly looms over George—he can handle it though, can’t he? Fred notices his skittishness and says with a bit of a smirk, “See you on the other side, mate.”

— -

It’s been four and a half days since George stupidly decided to get involved in Fred’s antics, and the boys have absolutely no problem reminding him that less than seventy-two hours remain for him to finally “make a bloody move already.” This isn’t helping George’s nerves—nor are the winks you’re sending him from across classrooms, as your entire friend group is creating mischief right under your nose.

“Hey, wait up!” Your voice bounces off of the walls in the corridors as you frantically hurry through the sea of students to catch up with George, who’s heading to Potions with Fred, rather reluctantly, of course. Fred begins trying to poke George in the ribs, winks, and vanishes before you can even notice he’s there, leaving you and George alone near the entrance to the dungeons.

“Hey you,” he says and immediately regrets how cheesy it sounds in his own ears. Quick to hide the fact that he’s very embarrassed, he continues, “what’s going on?”

“What’s going on with all of you?” you ask curiously. “Fred keeps telling me that we’re all in for a rather exciting weekend, but as far as I’m concerned, I have absolutely nothing planned except to sit outside and read. Yes, a very wild few days, I know—” you say when George stifles a bit of laughter, “—so, you want to tell me what you have planned? Some sort of major prank, or something?”

You’re essentially giving him an opening and George isn’t sure why he’s not just asking you out right now. It’s the perfect opportunity! Not yet, he thinks. There’s still around seventy-something hours, or so. Instead, he opts to go for something different. “Oh, erm, there’s some—Gryffindor bloke who’s been mad for this girl for years and hasn’t told her yet, so we’ve all placed bets on when he’ll finally do something about it—next few days, apparently..”

“Really?” you ask, intrigued. You wiggle your eyebrows at him and clutch your books tighter in your arms. “Who is it?”

“Can’t tell you that, Y/N,” George replies with a smirk, “That’d be breaking the rules, wouldn’t it?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fine, I’m not even going to try and argue. How much time has he got left?”

George swallows thickly, thinking of the ticking clock, and says, “Til Sunday evening.” The words sound foreign in his mouth. He can feel his face flush and much to his dismay, you certainly seem to notice.

“Two and a half days, huh?” you ask, clicking your tongue. You inch forward to him and continue in a lower voice, “that’s not a lot of time, is it?”

George swallows again. He has a love, hate relationship with the effect you have on him. “No, certainly isn’t.”

“Think he’ll do it in time?”

“Well, he’s got too, hasn’t he?”

You send a mischievous grin his way, and he’s surprised he isn’t falling to the ground right now. He’s being supported by none other than caffeine and his own nerves. His heart is nearly pounding out of his chest when you look up at him with those sparkling eyes. He can tell now, by the look you’re giving him, that you’ve easily unraveled this. You know. You’ve got too. You’ve completely read him like a book and at this point you’re just teasing him mercilessly. He bites back a smile. “Certainly hope he does—can’t keep the poor girl waiting, can he?” you say now, taking one step closer to him, now just inches from one another. You place your hand on his arm, squeeze tightly, and shoot a teasing, cheeky grin in his direction. Then, you pull back, shrug your shoulders, take a deep breath, and leave George breathless before continuing down the corridor, “Anyway—see you later? Stay out of trouble, Weasley.”

You wink before vanishing completely. When you’re completely out of sight, George actually tightens the grip on his bag and falls back into the wall and to the ground in some sort of emotional, flustered chaos. He’s grinning from ear to ear and is feeling incredibly elated but also beyond frustrated at himself. He should be kissing you by now, but instead, he’s biting his lip in pain due to a sharp blow to his shin.

“You’re an idiot,” Fred says now, and George realizes he’s been hiding around a corner this entire time. “Like putty in her hands, you are. Pathetic. She just gave you an in, mate! And you didn’t even take it!” Ron and Harry are on the other end of the corridor, laughing at this exchange they’ve just witnessed, when they make their way over to the doubled-over George.

“Relax,” George tells them once he regains his balance. “I’ve got to lay the foundation, haven’t I? ‘M taking my time. Still have two and a half days, like she said.” Foundation. You two have known each other for years already.

Fred slings both arms around Ron and Harry and glances cheekily at his twin brother, shaking his head in utter disappointment. “Maybe so, Georgie. But I reckon you’re still an idiot.”

— -

George slumps into the Great Hall rather begrudgingly, not at all looking forward to this feast. At the Gryffindor table are Fred, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Lee, Neville and many others who look up and begin to clap sarcastically at the sight of him. George narrows his eyes at them and sits down on one of the benches and places his head directly onto the table.

“Why so glum, Georgie?” Ginny and Hermione ask teasingly.

As predicted by the others, George unfortunately had let time run out. Many opportunities had been handed to him, of course, but had he seized any? No. He absolutely hadn’t. Fred sticks out a hand and nods to the others to follow suit. “Cough it up, mate. One sickle each.”

“Oi, let the poor bloke wallow a bit first,” Ron jokes. George is already feeling poorly. He’d been so stressed about this stupid bet that he forgot to hand in his Herbology assignment, he had an absolutely rubbish Quidditch practice yesterday, and, on top of it all, the gloomy, rainy weather outside is not helping to lift his spirits at all. He groans. In a voice muffled by his face leaning directly on the table, he says to nobody in particular, “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot who’s in love and I reckon I will be forever.” The others do their best to try and stifle some mock laughter, but George can’t help to let a small, pathetic laugh escape his lips, too.

“It’s alright, then,” Neville says in a low voice, “you don’t have to pay me. I know first hand just how scary it can be..” he glances in the direction of a shy looking Hufflepuff.

But then, when George looks up and rubs his eyes due to exhaustion, he notices a couple entering the entrance of the Great Hall. A Ravenclaw boy is draping his own robes over a tiny Slytherin girl who, by the looks of it, unfortunately has just been caught in that rainstorm outside. Together they huddle closer to one another, laughing at the sight of her drenched clothes and hair. George stands up, quickly throws a bunch of sickles onto the table in front of his friends and says to nobody in particular, “Reckon I can still win in the end!” He’s just got to get over himself.

“No,” Fred laughs through a mouthful of potatoes, looking down at the sickles on the table, “it’s quite obvious that you’ve definitely lost this one, mate.”

But George ignores this, and instead runs through the crowd of students and out of the Great Hall and straight out into the rain. The wind is rather blustery, he comes to realize. Two seconds outside and his clothes are already soaked through, but he’s not regretting his decision—not when he sees you splashing in a puddle a few feet away. He smiles genuinely at the sight of you.

“Hey!” you yell over the howling wind. Your voice continues to soften as he gets closer to you, “You told me you don’t like the rain! If you’ve been lying to me this entire time, then, I suppose you owe me a Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.”

You’re quite a sight to behold. Your white button down shirt is soaked through, tie askew, cardigan wet and dripping and shoes covered in mud. Your soaked hair is plastered to the sides of your face, and your cheeks are the natural rosy color they always are, but it seems to make your eyes sparkle even more so than usual. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You bite down on your lip as George walks over to you, his uniform completely drenched from the rain, and he brushes your hair out of your face and presses his lips to yours.

And first kisses are meant to be chaste, soft, innocent—but nothing George Weasley does is ever innocent. He smiles against you, biting on your bottom lip just a bit before melting into you again, his hands wrapped tightly around the back of your neck, his fingers getting entangled in your wet hair. It’s eager and hungry and desperate. He can feel your hands slip underneath his shirt, spread out over his ribs and abdomen and hip bones, and soft, small moans escape his lips in the surprise of the moment.

When the two of you finally pull apart, he peers closely at the droplets of water on your eyelashes, falling down your cheekbones every single time you blink, “It’s a date.”

You peer down at your watch, noting the time and peering inside the entrance to the castle in the direction of the Great Hall. With a sensual smirk, you ask him, “So—that bloke lose the bet then?”

“Yeah, he did,” George tells you now. The wind is picking up, the rain coming down sideways now. He swallows over a lump in his throat but lets out a small laugh, “but a few lost sickles isn’t a big deal—not compared to what he won, at least.”

You sling your arms around his neck and run your hands through his wet hair, teasing him slightly, “Well at least he finally did something about it.”

“Sorry it took me so long, darling.”

“No apologies needed,” you reply, leaving light kisses against his lips, “but you owe me, now.”

“Yeah, the Butterbeer in Hogsmeade.” he agrees, tightening his grip around your waist, eager to get his lips back on yours, “haven’t we established this?”

You throw your head back and let hearty laughter escape your lips. “You’re adorable. No, my love, you owe me for lost time. Best find a way to sneak up to the girls dormitory tonight—and don’t get caught.”

He laughs fully now, poking you in the ribs as nervousness and adrenaline course through his veins. He’s counting down the seconds until he can, undoubtedly, fly in through your open window tonight. You pull on his shirt to get him back into the castle; there’s no part of your bodies or clothing that are dry now. But he grabs your hands and pulls you back toward him, still standing directly in line of the rain and the wind, and he continues to move fat strands of wet hair out of your face. “What’re you doing, Georgie? Thought you didn’t like the rain?”

He wraps his hands around the back of your neck again and pulls you closer. Against your lips, he says through a cheeky grin, “I reckon I can get used to it now.”

reblogs & feedback are always greatly appreciated!

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 8 - The Revealer

Author’s Note: Here we go! An honesty akuma, which was one of things I thought of when this story could barely be considered a story. It's weird to be here, the timeline I've got planned for this story moved faster than I expected. The reference slide for the akuma can be found here!

Anyways, this is the beginning of... a lot. Buckle up buttercups, this is going to be fun!

Chapter Summary: Claude begins scheming. Ladybug and Chat Noir deal with an honesty akuma.

First | Previous | Next

Marinette’s phone dings on her desk as her friends classmates are standing to go. She crosses her room to pick it up, glancing at the screen, “Oh hey, Adrien got his phone back! He says that he wanted to let us all know that he got into Concours d'arts musicaux!” She starts tapping at the screen, probably sending a congratulatory reply, “Isn’t that great?!”

Allegra smacks her palm against her forehead, “ That’s what I forgot to tell you guys! I don’t know how I forgot. I got in too!”

“You did? That’s wonderful, Allegra!” Marinette gives the taller girl an excited hug. 

“Yay! I’m jealous you two will get to spend a bunch of time together though, don’t forget the rest of us when you guys become stars!” Claude joins in the hug, pouting slightly.

“As if you’d let me forget you.” 

“Never!”

“That’s great Al’, do you know when it is yet?” Allan gives her a hug too.

“No, but it won’t be for another few months.” 

“Congratulations, Allegra!” Felix stands off to the side giving her a smile that she probably can’t see. Claude grabs him by the shirt and pulls him into the hug.

“There is no escaping a group hug, my friend!”

Felix sighs, accepting his fate for a moment and joining their hug before pulling away and straightening himself out. The other four break apart too.

“I’m so happy for you!” Claude is shaking in excitement.

Allegra shakes her head, smiling, “Claude, it hasn’t even happened yet.”

“Still!”

Eventually they do manage to get downstairs. As they say their goodbyes, Claude holds up his hands, “Wait!”

“What is it Claude?” Felix and the rest turn back to him. Marinette pauses in closing the door, looking at him questioningly.

“I have forgotten my textbook in Marinette’s room!”

“Oh, you can come back up and get it then.” Marinette opens up the door to let him back in. He races in.

“Do ya’ w-” Allan starts to shout after him before Claude calls down.

“No need to wait for me! You may go on without me, my pals!”

Allan shrugs, “That answers that question then.” He waves, “Bye ‘Nette!” The three turn and walk back to their respective homes.

Marinette shuts the door and exhales heavily, allowing the smile to fall from her face for one of the first times that day. That is, of course, until she hears Claude bounding back downstairs. At that, she fixes the look back onto her face, turning to greet him.

“Find it okay?”

“Yep!” He holds it up triumphantly.

She opens the door for him, “That’s a relief.”

He smiles at her, “Thanks for having us over again, Mari. It’s fun.”

She shrugs it off, “It’s no big deal-”

“We really enjoy hanging out with you, ya’ know.”

If Marinette had allowed herself to imagine him saying anything of the sort before, she may have reacted differently. However, as it was, she considered such a statement completely unrealistic and her surprise showed. She’d honed her acting skills in recent weeks though, so she was able to recover quickly, “Aw, you guys are sweet. It was nice having you over, goodnight Claude.”

Claude smiled at her, giving her a quick hug - seemingly on impulse - as he skipped out the door, “Goodnight Marinette!”

She shut the door, and as she did, his smile faded. He didn’t want to worry her - thank his wonderful acting skills for allowing him to pull that off - but she sounded more than just surprised by his simple statement - which would have been concerning enough on its own. She seemed completely caught off-guard, shocked - astonished even - and though he thought he’d noticed some hopefulness, it had gotten crushed immediately. The pig-tailed girl had better acting skills than he would have given her credit for, making him think through some things he’d filed away in the back of his mind as ‘off’ about her before. By the time he arrived home, he’d come some rather concerning and alarming conclusions. Pulling out his phone, he started putting a plan together.

He wouldn’t allow this to continue.

 ---

Marinette had actually gotten a reasonable amount of sleep when she woke up the next day. She’d slept in a little, which was a nice and surprising rarity. Checking her phone, she sees Claude’s usual good morning text.

Directly above it is an akuma alert. Darn it.

A type five too, fun . It could take a while, so she decides to quickly scribble a note to her parents that she would be out today in case they came up to her room. Saturdays can be pretty busy, but type fives are pretty annoying, and she didn’t want them to worry. Better safe than sorry.

Turning to her desk, she found her Kwami, still resting,“Hey, Tikki, you up?”

“I am now. What is it, Marinette?” the little Goddess sat up, looking to her chosen.

“There’s an akuma - type 5.”

“Okay, let’s go de-evilize it!” She floated up to be at eye-level as Marinette spoke the words.

“Tikki, spots on!”

Feeling the magic wrap around her, Ladybug takes a moment to prepare herself to go against another akuma. It is her job, yes, but keeping up the act when she is in front of a few people is very different than all of Paris. Not to mention the added stress of magical monsters and probably Alya. 

She hasn’t spoken to her as Ladybug since before… that Thursday. As Marinette, not since she left.

She exhales deeply. Ladybug doesn’t have time for this, not with a type five on the loose. Shoving everything deep back down where it belongs, she hops out of the bedroom. Swinging in the direction of the akuma, she focuses on getting her mind back together. It is a little ways away, so she has time. 

Ladybug is definitely approaching the akuma now. She can see plenty of citizens out on the streets. They look pained, and a few are speaking rapidly, many are crying. Others look upset or surprised at the very least. One couple seems to be in the midst of an impromptu proposal… interesting timing?

“Ladybug! Over here!”

Ladybug lets out a genuine smile for a moment at her partner. He’s one of her favorite people, and- no focus. If you can’t even stay on task you don’t deserve your miraculous. Quit smiling you moron.

She lands beside Chat Noir, “Sorry I’m late. Last time I’ll let myself sleep in.”

“I get that feeling. You let yourself get a few extra moments of well-deserved beauty sleep and Hawkmoth slaps you across the face with a dose of evil butterfly magic.”

“Heh. You been here much longer than me? Anything on the akuma?” Joking with her friend partner was something she didn’t earn today. She’d already treated herself to a few extra moments of sleep anyways. Time to actually do your job you airhead.

“Yeah, it’s going to be risky for us. We should really try to avoid getting hit…” Chat takes a moment to survey the area, making sure the akuma isn’t going to sneak up on the duo. She gives him a quizzical look before he continues, “It’s an honesty based akuma. She’s got two abilities. She can hit her gavel, which lets out a wave - if you get hit, it’ll slow you down- all of this is from observation. Don’t worry, she hasn’t seen me yet. Anyways, what we got to really look out for is when she throws her gavel - or the other circle-thing. If someone gets hit by either of them, they spill their guts. Seriously, these people just, like, let it go. It looks like you can hold it off for a little, but it looks painful? I’m not sure. I think people’ll tell more if someone asks them a question.”

“Yeah, okay we definitely need to be careful. Our secret identities are on the line.” Stupid, he already knew that.  

Chat Noir nods, bowing, “Shall we?”

Ladybug scoffs, taking a few steps before leaping off the roof heading towards the akuma that has wandered a few blocks away. Her partner follows behind her dutifully.

Ladybug finally laid eyes on the victim. She has long hair and is dressed like Lady Justice but without the scales and sword. In place of the blindfold she has glasses. Her wrists are wrapped in thick, heavy chains, which trail behind her on the ground, ending in a ball, her ankles similarly have a weighty pair of ball and chains cuffed to them. Despite the burden, she moves quickly and purposefully, holding her arms aloft as she wanders the streets. In her hands she holds a gavel and a circular wooden sound block. Ladybug observes her for a moment longer, waiting to see her abilities in use. 

She doesn’t have to wait long, soon enough the akuma hit the gavel to the sound block several times, releasing blue crescent shaped waves that rush out towards the people closest to her. Some get out of the way in time - others not so much. They slow considerably, and one unlucky soul gets hit by two and could probably end up losing a race to a snail.

Ladybug decides she’d done enough surveillance. She quickly puts herself ahead of the akuma, but stays on the roof. She shoots out her yo-yo, and as much it would be nice to wrap-up this akuma quickly (Chat would have liked that pun), she knows better. Type fives are never quick, and never easy. So while she is aiming to have her yo-yo wrap around the woman, she mostly wants the akuma’s attention. Knowing their goals and views on their task often helps to defeat them,

The akuma notices the weapon immediately, hitting it back with her gavel. 

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! So you’ve finally decided to show up, huh? I am The Revealer, I was hurt by the truth being kept from me, so I’m going to make sure no important truths are kept from anyone! All secrets must be revealed, including yours!” She punctuates the statement by throwing each of the objects in her hands at the superpowered pair.

Ladybug steps out of the way, and Chat bats the one aimed at him away with his baton, “Thank you for the exposition, but I’m afraid some secrets are meant to stay that way. Purr -haps you could encourage good communication instead?”

“No! Lies will persist without my intervention.”

“I can agree with you there - no one like a liar.” Ladybug really sympathizes with this woman, she knows firsthand the pain lies can bring about, “But forcing people to tell the truth in this way could hurt more people than it will help.”

“If they lied,” the akuma bangs her gavel a few times, before throwing it and the block again - summoning new ones to replace them, “then they deserve any pain this brings about!”

The gavel hits a man walking with one of his friends. He immediately collapses - much to the concern of the friend. They drop to his side, and evidently hear many surprising and upsetting things. They pull out their phone, dialing a number before speaking rapidly both to the person on the other end and to the man when he snaps out of it. Grabbing their friend’s wrist, the pair hurry away.

Many similar scenes are playing out all over - Ladybug can hear the yelling of a woman who was cheated on and crying from various others. The akuma is blind to the hurt around her and continues throwing things. 

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” The Revealer has focused back on the heroes, “Paris demands to know the identity of the so-called heroes protecting them. How can we trust those that we know nothing about?!”

Dodging the projectiles, Ladybug calls back, “It is for our own safety that our identities are secret. We get the job done, that’s all you need to know.” She hooks her yo-yo above her, swinging to get behind the akuma.

“Even we don’t know each other’s identities.”  Chat chimes in as he ducks beneath the gavel aimed at his forehead. “ Purr -tty sure that how superhero-ing works.”

The gavel keeps flying and hits someone standing nearby, “Babe! You good?”

Ladybug freezes - only her momentum keeps her moving - she knows that voice, even if she hasn’t heard in weeks. Nino .

Nino. Which means… if he’s talking to someone here - at an akuma attack - someone he called ‘babe’ then that could only mean…

She recovers, turning her head to the voice, and seeing him, and on the ground near him is Alya. She’s clutching at her chest and speaking rapidly. The heroine hears ‘Ladyblog’, ‘not good enough’, and ‘jealous of my best friend’, but can’t make out much more. The last statement throws her for a loop. Jealous of her best friend? She hasn’t seen Marinette in weeks, what is there to be jea-

Oh. 

Lila. 

Nevermind, she gets it now.

Stupid girl. Why would anyone be jealous of you ? You’re just some fool playing superhero until they find someone better. You’re not anyone’s best friend because no one would want to spend time - Wait hadn’t Claude said-

A crescent wave goes right past her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. Turning to Nino and (the now-recovered) Alya she says, “Get out of here. It’s dangerous.”

Alya is holding her phone, still recording, “Girl, I’m fine, I already got hit anyways and this isn’t live so nothing important can get out.” she looks to Ladybug, winking, “Unless you need some back-up?” She and Nino turn to her, smiling eagerly.

Ladybug stiffens slightly, though the pair don’t notice. Someone else does though, “She’s right. You two need to get out of here.” Chat blocks another gavel with his baton as he lands near them. Ladybug recovers, nodding in agreement before swinging back into the battle.

“Finally see sense? Have you decided to let Paris see your truths?”

“Sorry ma’am, but Chat and I have good reasons for the lies we tell.” Do you though? Not all your lies are about your Ladybug identity. Sometimes you just lie because you want to, sounds like someone else you know… 

“I doubt that! You don’t feel the weight of your lies on your chest! You need me to show you just how wrong you are! Without me, how are you going to know all that you’ve done wrong? How will you make things better?! For that you need the truth!”

Ladybug scoffs quietly, muttering under her breath, “Ha! Joke’s on you lady, I already know that I’ve messed up big time! There is no righting my wrongs - truth won’t help me.” She’s quiet, and distracted with blocking more attacks. She misses how her partner’s fake ears twitch before he shoots a confused and concerned glance her way.

The Revealer hits her gavel several times, spinning in a circle and sending the glowing crescents everywhere. Ladybug returns to the rooftops and Chat Noir isn’t far behind. Seeing the heroes are out of her range, the victim moves on to reach more areas.

“Uh, Ladybug, you good?” “What?” Ladybug hears concern in his voice and her stress sky-rockets, what did she do?

“I just, uh, thought I heard you say something…? I thought maybe I should check on you…” He cocks his head, green eyes looking at her patiently.

You know the rules. You’ve memorized the rules. The rules are there for good reason and you can’t even follow them correctly.

She’s memorized the rules, and she knows them by heart and could recite them top to bottom, left to right, and she knows the last one well. It’s one of the more important ones, with them now numbered it’s #11.

  Rule #11: Adrien, Claude, Allegra, Allan, and Felix have been nice enough to put up with you, don’t make them regret it.

 It’s since been edited to include her partner, because unlike those she originally mentioned, he doesn’t even have a choice. His obligation to Paris requires him to put up with her idiocy on a near daily basis.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid you brainless numbskull. You’ve broken one of the rules, he’s worried about you now. For absolutely no reason. Fix this - now.

“Oh no, I’m fine kitty.” She puts on her most convincing smile, and pumps her voice with false sweetness and happiness that she doesn’t feel, “I think I just needed some more rest, that’s all!”

He keeps looking at her,”Are you sure? If something’s wrong…?”

“No, nothing’s wrong! I just need to be sure to get proper rest today, that’s all!”

He smiles at her weakly, “Alright, if you say so…”

“Mhm! Now, lets go get that akuma!”

“Right!”

The duo swings toward the direction they last saw the akuma head in. Ladybug’s thoughts trail behind her as she goes.

Stupid stupid stupid stupidstupidstupidstupidfailure…

--- 

It was just past noon, and they’d been at this for well over three hours and had gone through several Lucky Charms. Nothing seemed to be working, and it was hard to concentrate on setting up a trap for her when she was set on hitting them over the head with a gavel, or playing a painful game of frisbee with the sounding blocks, not to mention all the close calls with being slowed by a neon crescent wave.

“Maybe we should take a lunch break…” Chat has his hand on his knees, breathing heavily. They’re both tired, and have lost the akuma again.

Ladybug is about to protest - they need to do their job - but looking at her partner, doubled over and clearly overworked, she realizes he certainly deserves a break. He’s worked hard today, not to mention that she’d worried him earlier.

“Yeah, maybe we should. You certainly deserve one - be sure to eat something. Maybe check in with some people so they don’t wonder where you’ve been all day.”

“Bug, you deserve one too. We both have been at this all day. Besides, you must be tired out from being so radiant all day long.” He winks at her.

She huffs, folding her arms and turning away so he doesn’t see her blush. She is blushing from the compliment thank-you-very-much. She certainly doesn’t have any sort of crush on her partner. That would be unprofessional. She has a crush on Adrien and only Adrien . Not Chat Noir too - nope, no way.

“Farewell, my lady, enjoy your break!” Chat waves goodbye as he leaps away.

“Same to you, mon minou!” Ladybug heads in another direction, swinging from roof to roof until she lands on a familiar balcony.

“Tikki, spots off!” The Kwami in question shoots out of her earrings. Tikki waves tiredly at her as she floats down to presumably rest somewhere inside. She certainly deserves it - Marinette spent most of today transformed, with only a few very short breaks.

The tired and overworked girl flops onto her bed as soon as she’s inside. She wants to sleep, but her body refuses to shut down. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t eaten at all today. She’s fairly certain there’s leftovers in the fridge if she wanted them, but stairs seem like so much effort after hours of rooftop parkour. Her leg muscles are done with movement for now.

Her phone dings. Checking the screen she realizes that her friends have been messaging quite a bit while she was out, and there’s several messages asking about her. That’s right, she never responded to the good morning text from Claude - they’re probably worried now, good going.

  Kid Mime: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Good morning my stars!!! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

  Felix: Good morning, Claude.

  Melodie: It’s too early to be up do you wake up early just to send a text?

Melodie: I know you’re not a morning person how do you do it?

  Kid Mime: i’ll never tell

Kid Mime: my secrets shall remain that way for all of eternity

Kid Mime: i’m taking them to the grave

  The Mom Friend: youd better not be heading there any time soon

  Kid Mime: i dont plan on it

Kid Mime: whats this??!! Kid Mime: Allan isnt the last one up!

Kid Mime: this is almost unheard of!

  The Mom Friend: im not?

  Kid Mime: nope, Maris been quiet so far

  The Mom Friend: huh

  Felix: Perhaps she is sleeping in. She likely needs the rest.

  The Mom Friend: that she does

  Kid Mime: also unheard of! Today is a day of surprises!

  Melodie: Marinette honey I hope we don’t wake you up.

  Felix: I am fairly certain that we won’t. She may just have her phone off, or maybe it isn’t near her bed.

  Kid Mime: maybe shes talking with adrien. I still wnat his number especialy now he has phone back

  Melodie: How did he lose it again?

  Kid Mime: i dunno

  Felix: If I recall correctly, he did not perform as well as expected on a photoshoot, so his father decided to remove distractions, I believe he was pulled out of school for some time as well.

  The Mom Friend: translation his dad sucks

  Kid Mime: translatin allan is totally going to kidnap adiren

  The Mom Friend: no I won’t

The Mom Friend: … not yet at least

  Melodie: I’m in

  Felix: You are all terrible influences on each other.

  Kid Mime: u loooooveeee us!!!! :))

  Felix: …

Felix: … 

Felix: I do.

  Kid Mime: YAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!

The Mom Friend: awww

  Melodie: You’re all adorable.

  Kid Mime: u no who els is adorable????

  The Mom Friend: marinette!

  Kid Mime: ding ding ding!

Kid Mime: where is are favorite fabulous fashionista??? Kid Mime: i miss herrrrrrrrr

Kid Mime: :(((((

Kid Mime D:

  Felix: You just saw her yesterday.

  Kid Mime: but i stil miss her

  Melodie: Oh got to go for a moment.

Melodie: I’ll be back eventually

  The Mom Friend: careful theres a akuma out

  Melodie: I will!

  The Mom Friend: you better

  Kid Mime: maybe she’s been kidnapped!!! Kid Mime: we must find her

  The Mom Friend: im sure shes good

The Mom Friend: jus getting wel deserved rest

  Head Searcher: the hunt is on!!!

Head Searcher: she wil be found!!!

  The Mom Friend: fe’ i can hear u sighing from across paris

  Felix: Indeed.

Felix: Claude, it is very unlikely she has been kidnapped.

Felix: I agree with Allan’s guess.

  Also Head Searcher: wat’s that Felix?

  Felix: Nevermind.

  Head Searcher: never fear! our cool, cute, and creative companion will be saved fromthe clutches of evil

  Also Head Searcher: nice job with the alliteration

Also Head Searcher: ur on a roll today

  Head Searcher: thx

  Felix: The worst part is that I am unsure whether  Allegra would be another voice of reason or if she would join in on your nonsense.

  Melodie: What?

Melodie: Oh, hmmmm…

  Head Searcher: do it do it do it!!!!

 Marinette smiles as she finishes reading the texts she missed. She hates to have worried them, but they seem to think she just slept in so they’re fine. Deciding that she shouldn’t leave them hanging any longer, she hops into the fray.

  Patisserie Princess: hi!

Patisserie Princess: im ok guys!

  Melodie: Hi!!

  Felix: As I said.

Felix: Good afternoon, Marinette:

  Kid Mime: YAYYYY!!!!

Kid Mime: (つ・▽・)つ⊂(・▽・⊂)

Kid Mime: (つ≧▽≦)つ⊂(・ヮ・⊂)

  The Mom Friend: u get some rest mari?

The Mom Friend: its past noon

  Patisserie Princess: nah, i didnt sleep in much

Patisserie Princess: just lost my phone

 Lies. They deserve better than that, they deserve someone who can be honest.

  Kid Mime: u should sleep some! U deserve it!

  Patisserie Princess: thx, but i’ve got to go again

  Kid Mime: noooooooooooooooo

  The Mom Friend: take care of urself

  Melodie: Yes, please do. Have fun with whatever you’re up to.

  Felix: Farewell, Marinette.

  Kid Mime: buh-bye!

  Patisserie Princess: ( ･ω･)ﾉ

 Marinette sighs, putting her phone down. Her smile fades eventually as she just stares at the ceiling for a while, thinking of nothing in particular.

After some time she exhales sharply and sits up. Sticking her head over the side of her bed she says, “Tikki, are you up? I think it’s about time we get back to that akuma!”

“Really? That was quick… alright Marinette, let’s go!”

“Tikki, spots on!”

 ---

 Adrien is halfway done with his lunch when his monitor dings. He’s been eating at his computer, keeping tabs on the akuma. Plagg is sitting on the desk, munching on some camembert.

Clicking on the link, he sees that above the footage added this morning, Alya has added a quick clip to the front of the Ladyblog, “What’s up Ladybloggers? Alya here! After what was presumably a break for the heroine, Ladybug is back!” The camera turns around, showing a red and black spotted girl leaping across the rooftops. Alya continues with the commentary as she follows, “One question that remains on most everyone’s mind is where is the back-up lately? I know I for one would love to see Rena Rouge or Carapace out in the thick of it! Anyways, due to the nature of this akuma, I will not be filming this live. Alya out!”

Adrien closes the tab, turning to Plagg, so had been watching with him, “Plagg, I’ve got to go! Ladybug is out there again, she needs me!”

“Sheesh kid, does your partner have any chill?” “This is serious Plagg!”

“So is your health! The two of you have been at this all day and have only been on break for an hour! You haven’t even finished your food!”

“But Plagg-”

“No. Adrien, you need to at least finish eating before you head back out there. And don’t just stuff your mouth, you’re going to be moving a lot. Can’t be much help if you make yourself sick.”

At Adrien’s doubtful look the cat continues, “Besides, you two have very different personalities. Cats are lazier, and rest more. Bugs are constantly buzzing around, you two are there to balance each-other out. Too much of either mindset would be bad.” he stuffs some camembert into his mouth, swallowing before he adds - almost as an afterthought, “Never leave a Bug and a Bee together on a project - they’ll work themselves to death.”

Adrien sighs, Plagg is right - he won’t be much use if he rushes out now. His Lady must just eat quickly, “Fine. But I’m only staying here another half-hour; 45 minutes tops!”

He resumes eating, albeit at a slightly faster pace.

“Fine by me, kitten.”

 --- 

Despite the break, it’s been another six hours and the akuma is still around. People are starting to get upset, I know, I know, I need to do my job better - be better, please stop yelling at me.

Chat seems to be similarly over tired, having coming awfully close to snapping at a few people. She really needs to step up her game.

They’ve finally tracked down the akuma again, and they drop in front of her, ready to finally end this. 

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, ready to admit defeat?”

“Nope.” Chat’s tone is clipped - he dropped the puns and bantering some hours ago.

“That’s a shame, it would make this so much easier!” More hits of the gavel before she tosses the items out of her hands again. It’s a formula they’re well-adjusted to by now and they dodge the projectiles tiredly. Ladybug swings behind The Revealer to be opposite Chat. When it looks like she’s distracted by the feline hero, Ladybug shoots her yo-yo out, aiming to restrain her arms to keep more projectiles from being thrown.

The spotted weapon has almost reached its mark when the akuma turns suddenly, holding her gavel out where the yo-yo is headed. The string makes contact and loops around several times.

The woman grins, letting it go.

If it had been earlier in the fight, or if Chat had been closer, or even if Ladybug had eaten or gotten more rest, maybe things would have been different, but as it was, when the yo-yo wrapped gavel came flying back at her, Ladybug’s reflexes are too slow to do much good. 

The wooden mallet makes contact and Ladybug is down.

---

Author’s Note: Should the attack have lasted this long? Probably not. Did I want to make them suffer through an all-day akuma attack? You bet! 

Foreshadowing? It was unintentional, but it's there.

A quick note on the music competition - I don't think I ever really explained it. Basically middle-school musicians tried out, and the winners get to practice regularly together to perform a concert in the spring. The concert will be hosted at a local school, but which one will it be? Hmm...

Once again,  the reference slide for The Revealer can be found here! I'm tempted to post early in honor of Halloween? Or a bonus chapter maybe? Mostly because it feels weird writing so far ahead of what I've posted. That said, I really have to keep myself on a more reasonable schedule when it comes to updating this. Eh, we'll see.

Thanks for reading, and constructive criticism is welcomed in the comments below!

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[twifeordeath]

Twife or Death: Lesbian Twilight Chapter 19

Updated as of 12-13-18 (previous) (all chapters)

All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer, and this project is non-profit and fan entertainment. Thank you to Shelley, Taya, and the project admin Alina G.

19. GOODBYES

Charlie was waiting up for me. All the house lights were on. My mind was blank as I tried to think of a way to make this seem normal. Just a normal trip- suddenly I had an idea. An inkling of an idea, but it was a start.

Edythe pulled up slowly, staying well back from my truck. All three of them were acutely alert, ramrod straight in their seats, listening to every sound of the wood, looking through every shadow, catching every scent, searching for something out of place. The engine cut off, and I sat, motionless, as they continued to listen.

"She's not here," Edythe said tensely. "Let's go." Eleanor reached over to help me get out of the harness.

I felt moisture filling up my eyes as I looked at Eleanor. I barely knew her, and yet, somehow, not knowing when I would see her again after tonight was anguish. I knew this was just a faint taste of the goodbyes I would have to survive in the next hour, and the thought made the tears begin to spill.

"Alice, Eleanor." Edythe's voice was soft but stern. They slinked soundlessly into the darkness, instantly disappearing. Edythe opened my door and took my hand, then put an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to her, like proximity would protect me. She walked me swiftly toward the house, eyes always roving through the night.

"Fifteen minutes," she said under her breath.

"I can do this." I sniffled. My tears had given me inspiration.

I stopped on the porch and took hold of her face in my hands. I looked fiercely into her eyes.

"I love you," I said in a low, intense voice. "I will always love you, no matter what happens now."

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Bella," she said just as fiercely.

"Just follow the plan, okay? Keep Charlie safe for me."

"Get inside, Bella. We have to hurry." Her voice was urgent.

I nodded and turned to open the door, knowing Edythe would be gone before I even closed it again.

"Bella?" Charlie had been hovering in the living room, and now peered out into the hallway.

“Ch- Ma, I have a really big favor to ask.” I used my fear and sadness to give my voice gravity. She came up to me, cupping my face in her hands.

“You okay, Bells?”

“Yeah, it’s not me. It’s- Alice. One of her childhood friends- she died recently.” I took a deep steadying breath. Charlie looked like she was lost for words. “I promised I’d come with her to the funeral. Most of the family was already out of town and Edythe and Jasper have a massive final project they’re working on- well nobody else can go and I didn’t want her to have to go alone.”

“I- sure. But, where is it?”

“It’s in Phoenix.”

“Wow Bells, that’s far- are you sure-” She took one look at my face and stopped halfway through the question. “Alright, I’ll call the school and let them know you’ll be gone a few days. It won’t take longer than that, right?”

“Actually, I think some pipes broke in the school and it’s been flooded, so we probably won’t have school tomorrow or the day after at all, depending on the damage and how fast they can get it fixed. I think Wednesday was a teacher work day anyway. I don’t know, they’ll probably call or email.” I start walking up the stairs. I knew for certain they were broken by now because Jasper seemed to take it as a personal responsibility to sneak in and, as Edythe said she’d phrased it “royally fuck things up”.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Charlie realized probably, as soon as the question left her mouth, how it would sound to her teenage daughter. “I mean, I just worry. Keep me updated alright? You don’t have to call me every night but I’d really appreciate it.”

“I will be texting you to let you know we haven’t run into a moose anywhere or gotten pulled over for speeding. Just joking Ma!” I looked back and saw her smile when I didn’t just call her Charlie again. She was softening, I knew it.

“Alright, let me know if you need help packing or anything, I’ll go make you some sandwiches for the road. You’re not leaving tonight, are you? Not in this weather?”

“No Ma, I said I’d stay the night with her, keep her company. Don’t worry, she’s a much better and more responsible driver than I am.”

“Okay, go pack already, don’t want to keep her waiting.” I ran up the rest of the stairs and into my room.

I turned to my dresser, and Edythe was already there, silently yanking out armfuls of random clothes, which she proceeded to throw to me. I rolled my eyes at her before trying to at least fold them slightly before shoving them in my bag. If I rushed too much Charlie would get suspicious. I think Edythe realized this, and after taking a deep breath started handing me underwear, a few folded shirts and sweaters. The bag was pretty much full now.

I jerked, exasperated, on the zipper of my bag. Edythe suddenly stopped in mid motion leaning over to help me, then put up a finger like she’d had an idea and rushed out of the room. I swore I could almost feel the breeze of her passage as she ran back in, putting a toothbrush, toothpaste and hairbrush into a smaller bag and shoving it in one of the side pockets.

She went to brush my hands away and zip it up herself but paused, looking over at me. I smiled and nodded, with a quiet ‘thanks’. It may not have been a big deal to anyone else, but I got frustrated at how helpless I felt when people did stuff for me just because of my dyspraxia, or lifted things for me without asking. She handed me the bag and I slung it over my shoulder.

“Meet you in the car.” She whispered, climbing out the window. I would never be able to get used to things like that. I made sure the window was locked before glancing around my room, trying to think if I’d missed anything. It was only a few days anyway. I went down the stairs much slower than I had gone up. The extra weight made my coordination even worse. Hey, at least it was stairs and not a ladder. I hated ladders with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns. It was up there with bicycles in my list of things I would not even try to do again because it was pointless and just hurt.

“Alright, I’m heading out.” I peeked into the kitchen to see Charlie wrapping two sandwiches in plastic wrap.

“Perfect timing.” She stuck them into a bag and handed it over. “Be careful, alright? I know you’re just going on a minor road trip and not skydiving, but- I’m sorry. Come here, let me give you a hug.” I stuck the sandwiches into a pocket of my bag with a small smile and walked over to wrap my arms around her waist. 

“I love you.” It felt too much like a goodbye, and I think Charlie sensed something was off.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Hopefully she chalked it up to me coming face to face with the fragility of human life because of the funeral and not because of actual impending physical danger.

"I'll call you tomorrow." I said as I stepped back, trying to inject some cheerfulness into my voice. She patted my head and went to open the door for me.

“Give Alice my condolences. Or a hug would probably do better.” 

“Will do. Bye!” I walked past her and out the door, no longer able to control my facial expression. I made to to the car before I started crying. What if something happened? What if something happened to me and she blamed herself for letting me go? I opened the door and threw my bag into the backseat before buckling myself in and turning the car on, hitting the gas maybe a bit too hard.

Edythe reached for my hand.

"Pull over," she said as the house, and Charlie, disappeared behind us.

"I can drive," I said through the tears pouring down my cheeks.

“Sweetheart, please.”

“Alright.” I wiped a hand across my face before pulling onto the shoulder.

I was about to open the door before I felt her hands grip my waist.

“It’s starting to rain, I don’t want you to get wet. I can just do it like this, okay?” I had no idea what she was talking about but I was too tired and upset so I just nodded. She pulled me across her lap and suddenly she was in the driver's seat. I mechanically buckled my seatbelt as she pulled back onto the road.

Lights flared suddenly behind us. I stared out the back window, eyes wide with horror.

"It's just Alice," she reassured me. She took my hand again.

"The tracker?"

"The tracker followed us. She's running behind us now."

My body went cold.

"Can we outrun her?"

"No." But she sped up as she spoke. The truck's engine whined in protest.

My plan suddenly didn't feel so brilliant anymore.

“Eleanor is going to join us soon.”

I was staring back at Alice's headlights when the truck shuddered and a dark shadow sprung up outside the window.

I gasped in horror before what Edythe had said finally sunk in.

“What? That’s not- why couldn’t she just get into the car like a normal person she almost scared me to death.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to say she was about to jump on the goddamn roof.”

“Next time just say that, okay?” I felt a bit out of breath so I leaned my head against the dashboard.

“I’m sorry Bella.” She took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “It's going to be alright.”

"I’m afraid for you," I whispered.

"We'll be together again in a few days," she said, "Don't forget that this was your idea." I could tell she was trying to lighten the mood.

"It was the best idea — of course it was mine."

Her answering smile was bleak and disappeared immediately.

"Why did this happen?" I asked, my voice catching. "Why me?"

She stared blankly at the road ahead. "It's my fault — I was a fool to expose you like that. I’m sorry."

"That's not what I meant," I insisted. "I was there, big deal. It didn't bother the other two. Why did this Jamie decide she wants to kill me? There're people all over the place, why me?"

She hesitated, thinking before she answered.

"I got a good look at her mind tonight," she began in a low voice. "I'm not sure if there's anything I could have done to avoid this, once she saw you. But when I defended you… well, that made it a lot worse. She's not used to being thwarted, no matter how insignificant the object. She thinks of herself  as a hunter and nothing else. Her existence is consumed with tracking, and a challenge is all she asks of life. Suddenly we've presented her with a beautiful challenge — a large clan of strong fighters all bent on protecting the one vulnerable element. You wouldn't believe how euphoric she is now. It's her favorite game, and we've just made it her most exciting game ever." Her tone was full of disgust.

She paused a moment.

"I don't think I have any choice but to kill her now," she muttered. "Carine won't like it."

I could hear the tires cross the bridge, though I couldn't see the river in the dark. I knew we were getting close. I had to ask her now.

"How can you kill a vampire?"

She glanced at me with unreadable eyes and her voice was quiet. "The only way to be sure is to behead her and burn the body.”

"And the other two will fight with her?"

"The redhead, Victoria, will. I'm not sure about Laurent. They don't have a very strong bond — she's only with them for convenience. She was embarrassed by Jamie in the meadow…"

"But Jamie and Victoria — they'll try to kill you?" I asked, my voice raw.

"I’ll have Eleanor, and Carine. And the advantage of reading their minds, don’t worry about me. Your only concern is keeping yourself safe and — please— try not to be too reckless."

"Is she still following?"

"Yes. She won't attack the house, though. Not tonight."

She turned off onto the invisible drive, with Alice following behind.

“Eleanor will carry you inside, alright? Get you in there fast and safe while I keep watch for Alice.” I nodded as we drove up to the house. The lights inside were bright, but they did little to alleviate the blackness of the encroaching forest. Eleanor had my door open before the truck was stopped; I closed my eyes as she pulled me gently out of the seat, tucked me like a football into her vast chest, and ran me through the door.

We burst into the large white room, Edythe and Alice at our sides. All of them were there; they were already on their feet at the sound of our approach. Laurent stood in their midst. I could hear low growls rumble deep in Eleanor's throat as she set me down next to Edythe. I muttered a quick ‘thanks’ to her as I tried to steady my breathing. She patted my shoulder distractedly.

"She's tracking us," Edythe announced, glaring balefully at Laurent.

Laurent's face was unhappy. "I was afraid of that."

Alice slid over to Jasper's side and whispered in her ear; her lips quivered with the speed of her silent speech. They sped up the stairs together. Rosalie watched them, and then moved quickly to Eleanor's side. Her beautiful eyes were intense and — when they flickered to my face — angry.

"What will she do?" Carine asked Laurent in chilling tones.

"I'm sorry," she answered. "I was afraid, when your girl there defended her, that it would set her off."

"Can you stop her?"

Laurent shook her head. "Nothing stops Jamie when she gets started."

"We'll stop her," Eleanor promised. There was no doubt what she meant.

"You can't bring her down. I've never seen anything like her in my three hundred years. She's absolutely lethal. That's why I joined her coven."

Her coven, I thought, of course. The show of leadership in the clearing was merely that, a show.

Laurent was shaking her head. She glanced at me, perplexed, and back to Carine. "Are you sure it's worth it?"

Edythe's low growl filled the room; Laurent cringed.

Carine looked gravely at Laurent. "I'm afraid you're going to have to make a choice."

Laurent understood. She deliberated for a moment. Her eyes took in every face, and finally swept the bright room.

"I'm intrigued by the life you've created here. But I won't get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won't go up against Jamie. I think I will head north — to that clan in Denali." She hesitated. "Don't underestimate Jamie. She's got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. She's every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and she won't come at you head on… I'm sorry for what's been unleashed here. Truly sorry." She bowed her head, but I saw her flicker another puzzled look at me.

"Go in peace," was Carine's formal answer.

Laurent took another long look around the room and then hurried out the door.

The silence lasted less than a second.

"How close?" Carine looked to Edythe.

Esme was already moving; her hand touched an inconspicuous keypad on the wall, and with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass wall. I gaped.

"About three miles out past the river; she's circling around to meet up with Victoria."

"What's the plan?"

"We'll lead her off, and then Jasper and Alice will run her south."

"And then?"

Edythe's tone was deadly. "As soon as Bella is clear, we hunt her."

"I guess there's no other choice," Carine agreed, her face grim.

Edythe turned to Rosalie.

"Get her upstairs and trade clothes," Edythe said. Rosalie stared back at her with livid disbelief.

"Why should I?" she hissed. "What is she to me? Except a menace — a danger you've chosen to inflict on all of us."

I flinched back from the venom in her voice.

"Rose…" Eleanor murmured, putting one hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this.” She hissed at Eleanor. “You don’t owe her anything.”

“She matters to Edythe, so she matters to me.” Was Eleanor’s steady reply. Something, some doubt or other emotion flickered across Rosalie’s face but she shook her head and ran off.

But I was watching Edythe carefully, worried about her reaction.

She simply had looked away from Rosalie as if she hadn't spoken.

"Esme?" she asked calmly.

"Of course," Esme murmured. “May I?” She reached her arms out to me like she wanted to pick me up. I sighed and nodded, resigning myself to these vampires just wanting to lug me around since I was otherwise so slow.

Esme was at my side in half a heartbeat, swinging me up easily into her arms, and dashing up the stairs before I could gasp in shock.

"Why are we doing this?" I asked breathlessly as she set me down in a dark room somewhere off the second-story hall.

"Trying to confuse the smell. It won't work for long, but it might help get you out." I could hear her clothes falling to the floor.

"I don't think I'll fit…" I hesitated, but her gentle hands were tugging my shirt over my head. I quickly stripped my jeans off myself. She handed me something, it felt like a shirt. I struggled to get my arms through the right holes. As soon as I was done she handed me her slacks. I yanked them on, but I couldn't get my feet out; they were too long. She deftly rolled the hems a few times so I could stand. Somehow she was already in my clothes. She led me back to the stairs, where Alice stood, a small leather bag in one hand. They each grabbed one of my elbows and half-carried me as they flew down the stairs.

It appeared that everything had been settled downstairs in our absence. Edythe and Eleanor were ready to leave, Eleanor carrying a heavy-looking backpack over her shoulder. Carine was handing something small to Esme. She turned and handed Alice the same thing — it was a thin silver cell phone.

"Esme and Rosalie will be taking your truck if that’s okay, Bella," she told me as he passed. I nodded, glancing warily at Rosalie. She was examining her nails as if nobody else in the room existed.

"Alice, Jasper — take the Mercedes. You'll need the dark tint in the south."

They nodded as well.

"We're taking the Jeep."

I was surprised to see that Carine intended to go with Edythe. I realized suddenly, with a stab of fear, that they made up the hunting party.

"Alice," Carine asked, "will they take the bait?"

Everyone watched Alice as she closed her eyes and became incredibly still.

Finally her eyes opened. "She'll track you. Victoria will follow the truck. We should be able to leave after that." Her voice was certain.

"Let's go." Carine began to walk toward the kitchen.

Edythe was at my side at once, pulling me into her arms. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and closed my eyes in an effort not to cry. She pulled back a few moments later, looking me in the eyes, determined, before her expression softened and she stood up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to my lips.

“See you later.” She said as she took one last glance at me.

And they were gone.

We stood there, the others looking away from me as a tear streaked down my face, though Alice gave me a quick hug.

The silent moment dragged on, and then Esme's phone vibrated in her hand. It flashed to her ear.

"Now," she said. Rosalie stalked out the front door without another glance in my direction, but Esme touched my cheek as she passed.

"Be safe." Her whisper lingered behind them as they slipped out the door. I heard my truck start thunderously, and then fade away.

Jasper and Alice waited. Alice's phone seemed to be at her ear before it buzzed.

"Edythe says Victoria is on Esme's trail. I'll get the car." She vanished into the shadows the way Edythe had gone.

Jasper and I looked at each other. She stood across the length of the entryway from me… being careful.

"You're wrong, you know," she said quietly.

"What?" I thought this was the first time she’d spoken directly to me.

"I can feel what you're feeling now — and you are worth it."

"I'm not," I mumbled. "If anything happens to them, it will be for nothing."

"You're wrong," she repeated, smiling kindly at me.

I heard nothing, but then Alice stepped through the front door and came toward me with her arms held out.

"May I?" she asked. I sniffed and nodded, this time needing the comfort of someone's physical presence, needing the reassurance, even if it wasn’t Edythe.

She lifted me in her slender arms as easily as Eleanor had, shielding me protectively, and then we flew out the door, leaving the lights bright behind us.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Shared Sorrows.

This is part 4 of Feel Like Talking, How are you all like this fic? Good? Bad? Let me know.

Leah runs into an old friend, when she asks a question Leah can’t answer Negan comes to her aid.

Negan x OC Leah

Warnings: Maybe a word or two talk of losing a child.

Part 1  Part 3

While walking hope my phone rings which I pick up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” My sister says after I say hello.

“Umm hi? What’s got you in a good mood?”

“I have a date tonight. You gonna come over and help me get ready.”

“You say that like we don’t live together.” I say sitting down on a bench overlooking the water.

“You know what I mean. I need my sisters help!”

“I’m on my way home now.”

“Where are you?”

“In town. I thought I’d walk.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing what makes you think something happened?” I ask picking at the string on my pants.

“Because you only walk home if the car is broken or you need to think. So something happened.”

Sighing I bite my lip debating if I should tell her. Deciding it won’t hurt anything I take a deep breath.

“I saw Negan today.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“For like a second. I ended up walking away before I started balling all over him.”

“Oh my gosh Leah, why were you crying?” She asks her voice softing.

“I saw him playing with this little boy. I know it’s a dumb reason but it happening so close to the date I lost him it just hit a nerve.” I say shrugging.

“Aww I’m sorry sister.”

“Don’t be I’m fine. Today has been weird.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Well after work I went to visit dad and you will never guess the song he played.”

“What was it?”

“Guess. I’ll give you a hint. Negan.”

“No! He did not play strawberry wine.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. Someone requested it and I don’t even think Dad knew what was like our song or whatever but it happened.”

“Are you okay? I mean you didn’t..”

“Have a panic attack? No, it actually made me feel better. It brought back good memories.”

“Like sexy memories?”

“Oh my gosh no. More like first kiss memories.”

“Oh yeah that one.” She says like she was there.

Chuckling I shake my head.

“Oh my gosh Leah is that you?” Asks a shrill voice making me look up.

“I got to go.”

“What why?”

“Stacy Dill is walking up to me.”

“Eww good luck.”

“Thanks love ya bye.” I say hanging up the phone.

“Oh my gosh it is you!” She says when she gets closer.

“It’s me.” I say standing up to accept her hug.

“I can’t believe I ran into you.”

“Yeah, weird. I thought you left town after school.”

“Oh I did.” She says waving at me.

“I got married and Bill wants a second kid so we decided to settle down. We are here for the holidays but I’m gonna talk him into staying.”

“Oh… Cute.” I say not really sure what to say.”

“I know right. I’m so lucky. Anyway what about you? You still live here?”

“Yeah, I run the flower shop.”

“Oh…” She says her smile fading slightly.

“What about that guy you were with. He was one of our teachers right?” She asks fishing for gossip one reason we could never be friends.

She asked questions she already knew the answers to.

“What about him?”

“Are you guys still together? I mean school a year earlier. I heard you had a baby, is that true if so that’s so scandals.”

I didn’t have time to answer her, her not stopping to let me.

“You know I have son right? Little Dillon. We named him after my maiden name. Cute right. He just turned three he is so cute.” She says making my heart start to beat faster.

I put my tongue in the roof of my mouth trying not to let my emotions get stirred up.

“Oh my gosh look at me. I’m being so rude. Tell me about yourself. What did you have I never heard.”

“I had a son.” I say feeling my eyes start to water.

“Which we need to be picking up soon.” Says a voice from behind me.

When I feel an arm wrap around me and the smell of wood shavings and musk fill my nose I feel myself relax.

“Oh Negan I didn't know you were in town. I heard you left.” She says looking at him. Her eyes raking him up and down.

“I did. I found out this was the best place to be.” He says his hand wrapping around my hip.

“Oh you didn’t take Leah with you?”

“No mistake on my part.”

I bite my lip and look down not wanting to think about the day he left.

“So you had a son?”

“Yeah he is about to turn four. He is damn handful too.” He says making my heart ache.

“But you know how they are. He thinks he’s big. He tried to drive the other day. Don’t get me started on him getting into the workshop. We are still finding wood shavings

Closing my eyes I try not to think about what he is saying knowing I will start crying about memories I never got to have.

“I can’t wait to see little Dill like that.” She says laughing her hand touching Negan’s arm.

Feeling the heat of jealousy in my chest it reminding me that I still cared about Negan.

“You said that we needed to go?” I ask him wanting out of this situation.

“Yeah, your mom called he misses you.”

Feeling my eyes burn I nod.

“Then we should go.” I say

Meeting my eyes with him he nods at me his hand moving to take mine.

“It was nice to see you again but we should be going.” He says nodding at her and starting to walk down the sidewalk.

Once we are out of ear and eye shot I pull away from him.

“What was that about?” I ask looking at him.

“You looked like you could use some help.”

“By lying?”

“We didn’t lie.” He says walking up the steps in the alleyway.

“Negan our son-.”

“I know.” He growls out stopping at the top.

Sighing he looks at me.

“I know.” He says his jaw twitching.

“I can’t. I can’t act like nothing's wrong or whatever you do to keep going. I...  Forget it.” He says unlocking the door and going inside.

It’s not until I follow him do I realize where I am. Negan’s apartment. It the exact one he had five years ago.

“How do you still have this place?”

“I never sold it.” He says throwing his keys on the counter.

It was an open floor plan. The kitchen, living room, and dining room was one big room only being separated by large wooden columns. Two walls, the kitchen and dining room was brick.  The rest was gorgeous wood. It stained by Negan and his father. The bathroom came off the living room. It still a deep red from what I could see.

Negan’s room being my favorite. The roof was partly glass, him somehow painting it to make it not so harsh it making the room glow different colors in the mornings.

“Nothing's changed.” I say looking around all the fortune in the same place.

Half of it something Negan or his dad built the other half I have no idea. It was a contrast between light and dark threw out the place. It made you feel like you could do no wrong. Accepted.

“Why change it? I left. No one was here to care.” he says pulling his jacket off and throwing it on the couch.

“If your gonna stay for a while close the door.”

Blushing I close the door behind me not wanting to go home anymore.

“Gosh I haven’t been in this place in…”

“Four years give or take.”

Biting my lip I run my hand down the pool table memories flooding back.

“This is so weird.” I say closing my eyes and bowing my head.

“Your telling me. Last time you touched that thing I was drunk and trying to get you into bed.”

“I remember.” I say laughing looking at him.

He was standing in the kitchen holding a beer his other hand tucked in his front pocket. He looked comfortable. He looked like home.

“You stopped at the last moment because you thought it would ruin our relationship.”

“So much for that idea.” he says smiling.

“It was fun. I loved it honestly.” I say walking over to him.

“I know you told me the next day.”

“You were worried you took advantage of me. I wanted you to know you did the gentlemen thing.”

“Yeah but letting my student sleep in my bed wasn’t the smartest thing.”

“I was eighteen then. I knew what I was getting into.” I say taking the beer from him and taking a drink.

Partly to calm my nerves the other part because it felt normal. As if we were together again.

“You may have but I sure didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I fell in love with a student not even that someone I cared about the first day I met her.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me.” I say moving to sit on the couch.

“I’m just being honest.” He says joining me.

“We were good together huh?”

He nods letting the silence fall around us.

“I’m sorry about before.” I say chewing on my lip.

“I shouldn’t have gotten mad about what you said. I just…”

“I know.” He says nodding.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I miss him.”

I nod knowing Negan got to hold him. The doctors taking the body away before I came to.

“I just like to think about what the little guy would be doing if, well ya know.”

“The nights I can’t sleep it helps.”

I nod hearing his throat tighten. I look at him, him staring out the window his hand over his mouth.

“I think about you.” I say him turning to look at me, his cheeks wet it making my eyes water.

“On the really bad nights I think about you.” I say my voice cracking.

I let out a gasp when he pulls me into his arms holding me close. Grabbing onto his shirt I hold it tightly as he rocks me slightly.

We stay there him holding me as we sit on his couch in silence. It wasn’t needed. We both knew how the other felt. What the other needed. We needed each other. Feeling my eyes get heavy I try to find my sleep but when I feel the blanket from the back of the couch lay over me I give up. My dreams swallowing me.

[rainyrowan]

New Year’s Day

Summary: With Cory and Topanga celebrating the New Years with Feeny, and Auggie spending the night at Ava's, a lonely Riley Matthews invites her boyfriend, Lucas Friar, over for the night to celebrate with her!

- ONE SHOT - 

December 31st. 6:00pm. 2017.

Riley Matthews, now a sophomore, spends her first ever New Years celebration by herself. Her parents, Cory and Topanga were invited to spend the event in Philly with their teacher of 16 years, Mr. George Feeny. It was a tough decision to make for the couple, but Riley thought that they really deserve this trip and eventually convinced them that she was responsible enough to take care of their home, without throwing some sort of wild party behind their backs. She’s not that kind of person anyways. “Behaving is fun,” she had once said.

Auggie, on the other hand, is spending the night with his so called “wife and in-laws.” It bummed Riley out that she would be alone, but Auggie was genuinely excited and was definitely looking forward to it.

She almost calls up her friends, but then remembers that they’re off somewhere celebrating with their families, even Maya, who happens to be spending her first New Years celebration with a complete household.

She thinks for a moment, grabs her phone anyways and rings her boyfriend.

“Riley? What’s up?”

“Lucas, hi! You guys in Texas yet?”

Lucas and his family planned on flying down to Texas to visit his old Pappy Joe, so that they could celebrate together.

He lets out a sigh into his phone. “No. An emergency came up at work, so Mom had to leave and have that taken care of. Dad left this morning to God knows where. He said he’d be back by 12, but he’s still hasn’t come home… So basically all our plans for New Years Eve have been blown off.”

Irritation takes over Riley. She despises Lucas’s father. She doesn’t hate him. She just ends up being disappointed in him over and over again. He leaves, and we all know it’s never to work. He comes back home around 4 in the morning practically everyday. He’s constantly fighting with his wife, who is basically the only one keeping their household going, in terms of finance and whatnot. Riley knows that if Lucas could get a job, he’d apply in a heartbeat. His mother refuses it, though. She always told him to focus on his studies.

“I’m so sorry to hear that…” Riley whispers.

“Me too.”

“Say, why don’t you celebrate with me? I mean, my parents are out on a weekend couples trip and Auggie is with Ava… You can come in and spend the night if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks, Riley.”

“No need to thank me, I’m just killing two birds with one stone!”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Can’t wait.”

And with that, they both ended the call.

Riley always loved having her boyfriend around, so she is certain that this’ll probably be one of the best New Year celebrations she’ll ever have.

---

It took Lucas a little longer than expected to arrive, judging by the fact that his building isn’t so far away from the Matthews’. But when Lucas shows up at the other side of the bay window, Riley smiles at him just as she would if he’d come earlier or on time or ever, really.

She lets him in, giving room for him to crawl inside.

“Hey, you.” He says with a grin.

“Hi, yourself!” She wraps her arms around his neck, giving him a soft kiss. When she pulls away, she looks down at Lucas’s duffle bag. “You stayin’ the night?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“When has it not been?” she giggles. Lucas stares at her. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he mutters. “I’m just glad that I’m spending tonight with you.”

“Aw, Lucas!” She gives him a quick kiss.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

“Pizza guy. He’s spending tonight with us as well!” Riley jokes as Lucas laughs sarcastically.

Riley leaves the room to fetch their pizza, with Lucas trailing behind her. Once the pizza guy leaves, they both plop down on the couch.

“Finally… I’m starving!” she exclaims, opening the box. As they’re eating their food, they discuss their plans for the evening.

“We should go up to the roof to watch the fireworks.” Lucas suggests.

“Ooh, great idea! But until then?”

“Well,” he scoots closer to her. “We enjoy each other’s company.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue for us.” Riley smiles.

“Never has been.”

From then on, Riley and Lucas did everything they could possibly do to kill time. They played board games, watched cat videos (under Riley’s request, of course), and they talked. A lot. They were always into those deep, meaningful conversations. They were great at those. Later on, Lucas proposes watching a scary film.

“No.”

“C’mon, Riley.”

“Lucas, I'm not planning on having any nightmares tonight!”

“Hey, we spent about a good two hours watching cat videos.”

“Ugh, fine.” Then a smirk appears on her face and her tone changes as she starts to speak. “I get scared at scary movies. You’ll protect me though, won’t you Lucas?” She does a little pose and blinks ferociously. Lucas laughs at her Missy Bradford impersonation.

“No thanks, Missy. It’s Riley who I’m protecting tonight.”

“Aww.” She says losing Missy’s voice. She rests her head on his shoulder, both reclining into the couch. “In that case, what are we watching?”

Took them awhile to find a movie, but they finally agreed on The Conjuring. Before the movie starts, Riley goes into her room to fetch a blanket. Then, she snuggles next to Lucas.

Halfway into the film, Riley’s beyond frightened to the point where she begged for a break from it.

“Lucas! Turn it off, turn it off!” She cries, hiding underneath the blanket.

He immediately does so. “Are you okay?!”

She uncovers herself and sighs. “How do you endure these? Especially when seeing them with Zay or Maya!”

He chuckles. “Well, to be honest, I do get quite frightened. But then, I remind myself that it’s not real. And now I’m reminding you… It’s not real, Riley.”

“I guess so. But I am still scarred, and that’s all thanks to you.” She jokes. “Hey, wait. What time is it?”

Lucas pulls out his phone. “10:58. We should get dressed.”

“Oh, we’re getting dressed?” Riley asks in confusion.

“Well, we’re not starting the new year looking like this, are we now?” Riley looks down at herself. She’s in her red John Q. Adams shirt, that still surprisingly fits, and sweats. Lucas has on a lousy sweater and a pair of plain old jeans, but he still manages to look dashing as ever.

“I guess not.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go get changed in the bathroom.”

“Umm, okay?” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

Huh… Okay then. She thinks to herself.

---

Riley’s thankful that Lucas has them both get ready an hour before. It takes awhile for her to pamper herself. First, she throws on a sparkly red dress. She then curls her hair. Afterwards, she puts on makeup. And finally, she slips into her boots.

She’s just about ready to grab her coat and head out of her bedroom until she gets a FaceTime call request from Topanga.

“Hi, honey! Wow, you look gorgeous! Do you have plans? We never talked about you going out…”

“I’m actually going to see the fireworks up on the roof with Lucas.”

And in a blink of an eye, a paranoid Cory Matthews pops up in the screen.

“WHAT?”

“Riley, isn’t he supposed to be in Texas right now?” Her mom questions.

She sighs. “Something came up. They had to cancel.”

From Riley’s expression, her parents get the idea. Cory loses his paranoia.

“We understand.” He says calmly. He eventually goes back into protective father mode in a split second. “But if you two are doing things that you aren’t supposed to be doing…”

“Cory!”

“I’m just saying, honey…”

“Ugh, ignore your father.” Topanga says looking into the camera.

Riley smiles into the screen, thinking about how she’s definitely not bringing up the fact that her boyfriend is staying the night.

“Just have a good time, okay? We really wish you could be spending tonight with us!”

“Me too, momma. Well, I should get going.”

“Okay. Bye!”

“See you soon!” she says before ending the call. She checked the time. 11:45. She really should get going.

Riley grabs her coat and rushes out into the living room. “Lucas?!” He isn’t there.

“Huh.” Given the fact that she was just watching one of the most frightening films of her life, she’s scared that a crazy demonic monster would pop up from behind her.

Riley finally notices a single rose and a notecard lying on top of their coffee table. She grabs them both and reads the card.

“Follow the rose petals.” She offers a glance at the trail of rose petals behind the table, leading out into the hallway.

Riley being Riley, she did what she’s told. She followed the path of rose petals, which lead her up a couple flights of stairs, and eventually to the rooftop.

She gasps out of exhaustion when she reaches the top, but her eyes widen as she takes a good look at what’s in front of her. The rooftop had been decorated with what seems to be an endless supply of fairy lights, along with a bunch of New Years-themed decor. And in the middle of all that, waits a charming young boy who holds a little bouquet of roses. The boy who Riley fell in love with ever since she fell onto his lap on the subway.

“Riley…”

“Lucas,” Because you can make a Riley Matthews cry very easily, her eyes become all glossy. “Y-You did this?”

“All of it, yeah.” He chuckles.

This is probably why he was late. Riley thought to herself.

She walks up to him and gives him a big hug. “Thank you.” She whispers into his chest.

“Of course.” He pulls away. “Hey, why are you crying?”

“Well, how can I not be? This is all so magnificent!” Her tone softens. “I’m lucky.”

He grins, giving the bouquet to Riley. “That makes both of us.”

Lucas then walks over to grab a vintage boombox from the side. He places it on the bench and pops in a tape. Riley’s favorite piano piece then starts playing.

“Gymnopedie… How did you know?”

“You told me a while back, actually. We were taking a walk through the city, late at night. And we saw that man, he looked homeless-”

“And he was playing it on his old wooden piano.” Riley says in realization.

“Yes. And you see, there was this dance too…” He extends his hand out.

---

The old man was French. “S'il vous plaît danser ensemble comme je joue.” He said with a friendly smile.

Riley didn’t understand what he said. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not quite sure what you sai-”

“Riley, he wants us to dance while he plays.” But Lucas did.

“Oh.” She smiled.

And they did. They danced the night away, and this lead to being one of the most memorable moments in their relationship. It wasn’t big, but it was magical.

--- Riley sets the roses down and takes Lucas by the hand. He grabs her by her waist, pulling her closer, as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I’ve probably said this far too many times, but thank you. Thank you for everything. You really made this year a real good one for me.” Riley expresses.

Lucas stays silent for a bit. “My favorite thing in the world is when I talk to you,”

“So I’ve been told.”

“It’s not just that, though. You’ve always been there for me.” He pauses. “You’ve stood by me through my darkest moments, especially when my family’s having issues… Riley, you just make me the happiest. I’m beyond grateful for you and I’m not really sure that I can repay for all that you’ve done for me.” Riley smiles. Lucas has told her this so many times and in so many different ways.

Seconds after their song ended, the crowd below them starts screaming. The pair walked over to the ledge to take a look.

“It’s time to count down!”

“10, 9, 8…”

“Hey, Riley.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a couple seconds till 2018, and I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“7, 6, 5…”

“I’m always with you.” Riley offers him a smile. “You and me. Next year?”

“4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!!!” The crowd goes wild as Auld Lang Syne somehow starts playing.

“Bring it.” Lucas finally responds.

[mintyoongiskookie]

Did You Say... He? | 04

Member: Kim Taehyung

Genre: Fluff, humor, implied smut, Roommate!Tae

Word Count: 1,862

A/N: I soaked off my acrylics because I couldn’t stand not being able to write for you guys. But now I’m all good, and I’m writing this one a bit longer to make up for how shitty the last one was. AND Y’ALL SHOULD SEND IN MORE REQUESTS BECAUSE I WANNA WRITE SOMETHING THAT YOU GUYS WANT T~T please…

      “… And we need more milk, and your candy, and some- Tae, where’d you go?!” Looking around, your friend had already wandered off to the other parts of the store. “Goddamn it Taehyung…” Jimin had left to get a few things he needed, so you were stuck with the duty of finding the lost puppy alone. Pushing your cart with a heavy sigh, you started walking down all the isles. Where would this boy be… A sudden jump on your back had you swinging around, bringing a knee to the accuser’s crotch. A low groan came from the man, your eyes locking on the mop of brown hair. “Shit, Tae?! Fuck, get up, get your ass up!!!” Trying to tug him up by the collar of his shirt, a breathy moan came from his lips. hOLY FUCK, WHY IS HE MOANING??? WHY??? NO??? THAT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN??? “Tae, get up!”

      “Fuck, sweetheart… God, shit, ugh, you have a good leg…” A blush was bright on your cheeks, helping him up and sheepishly smiling to the people around you. His hand slithered its way around your waist, kissing your temple. “Oh my god… Okay, I’ll remind myself to never give you backhugs. Goddamn.” His low laugh floated in the air, taking hold of the cart and walking along with you. “Now, we’re gonna go get some candy, and then we’ll get everything else. Are you okay?” Looking back up to him at his words, you realized you were zoning out because of a few factors. You kneed him in the dick. You heard him moan, and shit, it was fucking hot. Then he got up, kissed your temple, held your waist, and walked around with you like a couple. That’s totally normal, right?

      “Huh? Oh, yeah, um, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You tried to give him a smile, but a quick peck to your lips had your eyes widening to saucers. “Wha-” Taehyung’s grin grew, an adorable giggle falling from his lips. His hand ruffled your hair, as he pushed the cart further. 

      Once you heard your name, you snapped out of your daydream and looked back up at Tae, who had his eyebrow quirked into a perfect arch. “Did you even hear me? Are you okay?” Fuck, I IMAGINED THAT?! GOD FUCKIN-

      “Yeah, yeah, um, I’m good. C’mon, let’s go.” Tugging on his sleeve, you trudged your way through all on the isles. Fucking imagination, ruining my dreams… “Get all the stuff you want, I’ll leave it up to you.” A boxy smile adorned his face, as he walks along you and throws some stuff into the cart. Upon seeing how gloomy you were suddenly looking, his grin faded to that of a frown. He couldn’t stand to see you like this. And he couldn’t stand the fact that you didn’t know. So, coming up behind you again, he hoisted you up onto his shoulders, laughing at the way you grasped his head. “Tae! What are you doing?! You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

      You were sure this wasn’t your imagination, and you tried to scramble your way off of his shoulders. But, his huge hands had a tight grip on your thighs, keeping you there. Falling backwards, you sighed as you dangled off him, your hair sweeping the floor. “Tae, if you drop me, you’re paying for my medical bills.”

      Another laugh bubbled from his throat, and he pulled you back up to a sitting position. “You looked sad, I hate seeing you like that. It makes me sad. But anyways, I think we have everything we need. I’ll pay.” he pushed the cart up to the registers, laughing and thanking people when they commented on how you two were the, “cutest couple they’ve ever seen”. The only thing you could do in response to that was to bury your head into the crook of his neck, getting “awww”ed even more. You weren’t against the idea of dating him, at all. I mean, really, who would be? After helping him carry everything out to the car, you put the car into shift.

      But, not before Jimin jumped onto the hood of the car and scared the living shit out of you.

      You jumped up as fast as humanly possible, banging your head threateningly hard against the roof of the car, your head slamming back down. Your movements stilled as darkness started to engulf your sight, black dots growing bigger and bigger. 

      Until it was all black.

      Quiet, gentle callings of your names woke you up, which then turned into hoarse, desperate please for you to wake up.

      “wHOA, whoa whoa whoa, what’s up? Tae? What’s wrong? Oh god, Tae, don’t cry, please don’t cry, it’s okay, I’m okay. Don’t worry.” You took his head in his hands, clutching it to your chest was pounding, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Everything was spinning, the bright lights blinding, but you focused on the few tears slipping from his eyes and rolling down his flushed cheeks.

      The door busted open, a teary eyed Jimin coming. “Oh god. (Y/N). I-I’m so sorry, I was just gon-”

      Your laugh stopped him mid sentence, looking up at him. “Jimin, miss me with that bullshit. It’s okay, and I swear, if you try to apologize, you will trade places with me. Now, come on, I’m not staying in a death house thing any longer.” Jumping up, you ripped off the IV drip and headed to change in the bathroom.

      Also not knowing that the two boys got a clear view of your ass in the hospital gown.

      After signing out with two unusually quiet boys, you headed back out to the car. “Why are you two so silent all of a sudden?” Turing to look at them, you noticed how they both immediately looked back down to their feet. 

      Jimin was the first to speak up, scuffing his feet on the floor in a shy way. “Well… We-”

      “We saw your ass.”

      “TAEHYUNG!”

      “WELL AT LEAST I TOLD HER!!!” You were doubled over laughing, gripping the edge of the car. 

      “C-c’mon, let’s just get Jimin back to his apartment.” You weren’t allowed to drive, so you laid down on the blanket bed Tae had made for you, and watched the glaring fest the two at the front had. Once Tae had pulled into Jimin’s lot, he murmured a quiet “bye”, before speeding back to the dorms. You laughed as you saw how white his knuckles had turned from his grip, resting a hand on his shoulder so that they’d go back to normal.

      “Tae, calm downnnn. It’s okay baby boy.” You laughed and thought nothing of the little name you had called him, not noticing the bright blush on his cheeks. “Let’s go, we’re back.” You opened up the car door and slammed it shut, opening his as well and tugging him out. “So I was thinking we just binge watch whatever the hell you want tonight, and I’ll get popcorn duty. Sound good?” A simple nod was all you got from him, so you smiled and unlocked the door. As soon as you shut it, your body slammed back onto it, being met with the lust filled eyes of Taehyung. “T-Tae, what are you-”

      “I don’t think you’ll be calling be ‘baby boy’ for a long ass time after tonight.”

      And that definitely wasn’t a part of your imagination.

      The morning sun had shown through the windows, lines of light flooding into the small room. A quiet moan left Taehyung’s mouth, his back arching with cracks echoing through the air. “Babe?” His voice was husky, even lower than normally. “Are you awake yet?”

      A groan escaped your lips as you rolled over into his chest, as you quietly sighed. “What time is it…?”

      “Oh fuck. U-um, it’s… One?” This caused your eyes to shoot open, looking straight at him.

      “IT’S ONE?! OH MY GOD, WE’RE LATE!!!” You threw the covers off of you, standing up from your makeshift couch. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck… Where are all my shirts?” Rummaging around, Taehyung propped himself up on his elbows, a smirk tugging at his lips.

      “I don’t know about you, but I’m staying here. You can join me if you want~” You stopped in your steps, looking back up at him before ripping your shorts and shirt back off. His low laugh danced around you, the sound brightening up the room even more. Plopping back down next to him, you handed him the remote, tracing light circles on his chest. 

      You two stayed lounging around all day, slow and loving kisses being shared, tickle fights turning into make out sessions. The day was calm and quiet, something that you wished you could have every day. But, maybe in the future, add a few mini Taes running around, and your life would be complete. You were never into the idea of finding the right person and having kids - you were a more, “I’m gonna find a place, own some giant dogs and a million cats” type of gal. Now, running off to some warm, beach side house in California with Tae sounds like the perfect dream, having a couple of kids to grow up with the waves. It was your dream.

      You had both stayed up throughout the day, keeping each other company and snacking on bowls of ramen. You two had been reading a book to each other, going back and forth, before a loud bang at the door stopped you both.

      “Who is it…?”

      “Jimin!”

      FUCK.

      You jumped up, throwing on one of Tae’s shirts. You cracked the door open, looking up at him. “What’s up?”

      “I was wondering if you two…” His sentence ran off as he peeked through the crack at your body, lightly covered by Tae’s shirt that only went just below your pantie line. “Are you wearing his shirt…?” You felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, looking up to see Tae glaring at Jimin. Once again.

      “Yes, she is. And no, we’re fine staying here tonight. Now, anything else? No? Okay, bye Jimin.” He shut the door with a sigh, and looked down at you. “Baby… What’s wrong?”

      You found out that he had already known about the incident that happened between you and his friend previously, so you knew he didn’t mean that. “I mean… I don’t even know. I just don’t want you two being torn apart because of me, that’s all.” His lips pressed against yours as he grinned, his eyes fluttering back open to look at you once he broke away. 

      “We’ve always had this frenemies thing going on, I’d have a crush, he’d take her from me. So don’t worry, you don’t know how happy I am right now.” You both laughed, his hands sliding down to the bottom of the shirt draped over your torso.

      You both may or may not have ended up skipping the next day too.

[coffeesforfuckers]

The Middle Of Nowhere Is For Broken Hearts And Shattered Souls // Ferard

Pairing: Ferard Summary: Gerard loved Frank with all his heart and he still does to this day. His drinking gets in the way of his happiness, their happiness and he loses the one thing he never could bear to live without.  Years later Gerard calls him from their place in the middle of nowhere, never expecting to hear the voice of his lost love, ever again. Word Count: 7,757

“Hey… Hi… Um… Hi…” I stammer into the phone, “L-Listen, I… I know that… You don’t want me to… You don’t… I’m probably the last person you want to hear from.” I inhale deeply as I look up into the sky, watching the galaxy swirl around me, “I’m out in the middle of… Um… Well, nowhere… I’m thinking about… Everything and well… My mind it kind of... Landed on you…” I chuckle through the tears.

My eyes trace the sky, it reminds me of his eyes. Oh, how I miss those eyes, that smile. Him.

“I just… I really miss you… I know this… Um, this is all, well… This is all my fault… I know it’s been a really… Really long time since, I, uh… Even spoke to you.” I swallow, falling silent for awhile, “I swear I’m not drunk…  I’m in the middle of nowhere and don’t have any way of, uh, getting any… I’m sorry… I just… I wanted to talk to you.” I breathe out shakily, “Are you… Alright? Is… Is your life going well?”

I sniff and rub at my eyes, “I remember laying here, on the roof of this car… That… That was the night I… I told you I was in love with… With you… That was the night you kissed me…” I choke, “Looking up at the sky reminds me of you, holding your hands, cuddling under the… The freezing cold, starry sky…” I start crying harder and stop speaking.

After a very, very long pause I start up again, “I’m sorry… I just… I miss you. It’s so cold without you here…” I start coughing, “I hate myself so much… I hate that I made this happen, that I made you run away… Isn’t it funny how you only realize just how much you love somebody once they’re gone…” I laugh ironically as I swallow and let out a heavy, sharp breath, wheezing with each breath I manage to take between hysterical sobs.

I shift on the hood of the car, my face and neck and chest are soaked from the tears and I’m shaking so hard I can barely hold onto my phone.

I sniffle, “You were my sleeping beauty… Too bad I couldn’t be your true love’s kiss… I don’t even know how to feel human anymore, like… I don’t care who I fuck, who I hold at night… Being alone… I… That means I… I have to feel… I just… no…” I cry, “You're the only person that makes me think before I speak... The only person to make me delete a message in fear of hurting you because you're the only person that I ever cared to… To keep… And you’re gone… Fuck! Just… Fuck, fuck!” I slam my hands on the hood of the car as waterfalls of bitter, angry and sadness filled tears fall freely over me. I burst into a coughing fit, letting out several strangled, pleading words that sounded like noise through the pain.

I hated this so much, it’d been years and yet he never leaves my mind, why can’t I just fucking hold him for one more night? Just one more second with him. Just to fucking see him… To hear his voice...

“I’m so sorry… I just… I’m gonna go… I know you don’t want to hear from me after all this time… Or at all for that matter...” I croak, “I love you so much, Frank Iero...  I’m so sorry for everything… See you in another life.”

I hang up, I feel so empty.

I can remember so vividly the touch of his warm hands, almost as if I were holding them right now. They were always  so soft and they were a bit pudgy which made them so comfortable. He was so smooth and sweet, everything about him was just so good.

I close my eyes and see his staring back, deep into mine. He had a beautiful form of heterochromia, central, but it was better than imaginable. He had three different colors in his eyes, they were a gorgeous reddened, orange-like brown around the iris that branched out and turned into this olive green color that glowed with vibrance and finally, around the outside was a dark mix of green and brown that made the other pieces of his eyes pop and stand out against his toned skin.

His hair was always so silky, it felt so good, I could just feel it around my fingers as I laid here alone. I would twirl it around them while we laid together and watched movies at night, when he’d hold me…

When I would have a breakdown like I was now, he would wrap his arms around my middle, holding me tight as his arms squeeze around the arch in my back and he holds the back of my neck. He would play with the small wisps of hair there while I twisted his hair around my hands.

I hiccup as I suppress my tears. You know that feeling when you’re just sobbing so hard and your heart and chest hurt and you can’t breath or even make any sound except for small involuntary squeaks and whimpers accompanied by that shaky, obnoxiously loud breathing? Mine was so much worse than something that could be described and even imagined.

The memories of him flood back like tidal waves. His pretty laughter and that gorgeous smile of his. The school girl giggle of his that made me feel so bubbly and happy. When he kissed me the first time and when I confessed my love to him. I remember our nights together, when we had sex and when we just stayed home, I remember those dates with him while he smiles at me with those heart-eyes of his, when he held my hand. I can vividly remember him saying he loved me, walking hand in hand with me, everything he did was just so perfect.

The bad times come back with the good times. The time I smashed a glass and accidentally sent Frank to the ER.  The time he gave me a black eye for being a fucking asshole while drunk. The time he broke my hand when we got in a fight. The times I told him to leave and never come back and the one time he really did...

I end up staring at the sky alone for a long time and end up falling asleep on the roof of my car by myself.

|||

“I don't want to see you ever again, Frank! Don't fucking call me, don't fucking talk to me, just leave!” I shout, slurring and almost falling. I throw my glass at his feet and it shatters, cutting into his legs but he doesn’t even flinch.

It gets hazy and I can’t see properly, his voice is muffled.

“No you can’t idiot! You can’t just fucking do whenever you want!” He snaps, “You’re a fucking idiot, Gerard! This is why I don’t love you and I never have!”

“Get out!” I yell, “Get the fuck out and never fucking come back!”  I growl, barely able to hold my own head up.

My head starts to pound and the room is spinning, I can’t hear except a loud ringing, Frank’s yelling and I’m yelling too, I don’t know why, or what for.

|||

“I'm sorry, Frank! I didn't mean-... it…” I sigh as I find myself staring down a dirt path in the early hours of the morning on the roof of my car.

I still get nightmares and it's been years since I've heard his voice or seen his face. I still so vividly remember every detail of him.

I check my phone to see what time it was. Only about seven in the morning. I also have a missed call and a voicemail.

I decide to take a listen.

“Hey, been awhile… That was one long message you left. Is everything okay? You seemed pretty distraught. I'm assuming that you were just drunk, as always. The only reason I even called back this time was because I could hear the pain in your voice. Anyway, yeah… Sorry if this just makes you feel worse… Bye.” I sit in awe, the voice, the tone, the accent, it's all the same. He's the same.

I call back, “Hi… It’s been a long time…” I mumble as I reach the voicemail, “I never thought I’d… I’d hear your voice uh… uh, again… Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m getting emotional again… You just do that to me… I-... Well, I… Just, I miss you so much… All the memories come back to me and I just… I want to redo them all and I’m sorry…” I murmur, licking my lips and calming myself down a bit, “Thanks for the memories, even though they aren’t that great now that they’re over. I should’ve tried a little harder… A lot, sorry… A whole fucking lot. I only saw how much after you were gone…”

I cough, trying to stop the tears, “I just want to relive it all again just… Just one more time.” I cry, “I just, I remember every bit of you so vividly and I… Fuck, I’m so sorry… I’ll go. Thank you so much for letting me hear you one more time… I miss you… Bye…” I hang up.

I just sit there, I can’t tell you why I even stay here. Why don’t I just go home? Why am I even still thinking of Frank even after all this time?

He left three years ago from next month.

July 21st.

I miss him more than words can express, more than feelings can convey and more than memories can comfort. I need one more day to tell him I love him, he just needs to know…

It feels like such a waste, I loved him forever and was with him for longer than anybody only to ruin it because I was fucked up. Because I am fucked up.

I close my eyes and let the memories play…

|||

“What’s that one called?” I point up at a the stars.

“Gee… That’s the big dipper…?” He laughs, “For a brilliant man, you really are pretty dumb aren’t you?” He bumps his arm off of mine jokingly and I stifle a yawn.

“That one?” I point out another.

“That one’s you.” He replies, “Cancer.” He giggles at his own joke.

“Ha ha… Very funny.” I roll my eyes and elbow him in the side. He rubs at the sore spot on his ribs but still laughs.

My head tips to face him, he’s still staring at the sky while I lay there with a racing heart.

“Tired?” He asks and I nod.

“A little.” I coo as the cool night air washes over me and makes me shiver. Frank notices and slides closer to me, wrapping an arm beneath my head and playing with my ridiculously long hair.

“Use me as your bed.” He hums, “I’m not tired, just sleep on me… I’ll keep you warm too.”  He looks at me now and I’m glowing red. I could be used as a light to guide us home.

“O-... Okay… I-... Thanks.” I blush.

“Goodnight, Gee.” He smiles into my hair as my heart beats out of my chest.

“Goodnight, Franky, I love you.” I tell him without even thinking and I instantly jump as the words pass my lips, “That’s not-... I- I… Frank…”

“It’s okay.” He giggles and tilts my head up with his finger. He places a kiss to the side of my mouth, “Love you too, Gee… Now get some sleep.”

|||

“You’re cheating on me!” I yell, for once I’m actually sober, “I can’t believe you!” Furious tears flow down my face.

“I'm not! Why don't you ever listen!?” He shouts back.

“Yes you are! I don't listen because you keep lying to me!  Why can't you tell me the truth!?”

“I am telling the truth! She's a family friend, Gerard!”  He's seething with rage, fists balled at his sides.

“Yeah right! Fuck you Frank! If you don't love me then just fucking tell me!” I fire the glass that is on the table next to me at him and he fumbles with it, trying to catch it before it hit the ground only for it to shatter and jab into his hand. He drops to the floor as blood pours everywhere. My anger dissipates and I drop to my knees next to him.

“Don’t.” He snarls at me.

“I’m so sorry, baby… I love you so much, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I cry as I try to hold him.

“Don’t touch me right now, it hurts so much.” He struggles to breathe properly.

“Let me see it.” He pulls away his other hand from on top of the injured one to reveal just a pool of blood, “Shit, I’m calling an ambulance.” I mutter and pull out my phone, “I’m so sorry.”

|||

My hands are shoved in my pockets on the way home. I fumble around with the box in my fingers. I can’t believe that I chickened out again…

Why do I get so nervous? It’s not like he would say no… We’ve been together for almost eight years. I reach over and lace my fingers with Frank’s and he starts to smile. He was so pretty.

When we finally get home Frank goes to take a shower while I sit downstairs and get wasted, per usual…

Once he’s done he comes back downstairs, he’s singing.

“Gee!” He chimes, “Let’s watch a movie! You make the popcorn and I’ll go find the movies!” He coos and stops dead in his tracks as his smile drops, “Fucking seriously? Tonight was so good and you had to go get fucking drunk? Really Gerard?”

“Fuck off, we can still watch movies.” I slur.

“Not while I’m holding your hair back when you vomit all that shit up again!” He growls at me.

“Shut up, Frank. Jesus, fuck you.” I roll my eyes.

“No! You have a problem!” He insists.

“I do not.” I stand and snap in reply.

“Yes you do, are you blind!” He shouts at me, “You’re ruining us!  You’re never here! It’s always your drunk ass and me holding your hair back! You need to get help!” He yells at me.

“Stop! I can do what I want! If you don’t like it then leave!” I shout.

“I’ve been thinking about it! I can’t live like this Gerard. You hurt me, physically and emotionally, you ruin everything because you’re a fucking drunk!”

“I don't want to see you ever again, Frank! Don't fucking call me, don't fucking talk to me, just leave!” I yell, voice slurred and  stumbling around. I throw my glass at his feet and it shatters, cutting into his legs but he doesn’t even flinch, he usually doesn’t anymore from all the times I’ve done it.

“Gerard you need to stop! Knock this shit off!” Frank shoves me back away from him and I fall on my ass, “You need to fucking quit!”

“No! Fuck you! I can do whatever the fuck I want, Frank! You can’t boss me around!” I growl in anger.

“No you can’t idiot! You can’t just fucking do whenever you want!” He snaps, “You’re a fucking idiot, Gerard! This is why I don’t love you and I never have!”

“Get out!” I yell, “Get the fuck out and never fucking come back!”  I growl, barely able to hold my own head up.

“Fine! I will! I found someone that can love me for real! And guess what?! She's not a fucking drug addicted alcoholic like you!” Frank screams back, “Fuck you, Gerard! Good luck finding anybody that can love you like I tried to!”

The words leave no pain, they don't hurt.

That was until I woke up alone.

“Frank?!” I call out, “Baby?” I stumble to my feet from the floor and step into the kitchen. There's a note on the table.

Dear Gerard,

Have fun living your life in a drunken blur. Don't count on me giving a rat's ass. I'm finally listening to your angry slurred words and leaving and not coming back. I promise not to call and not to visit. I'd appreciate if you'd do the same. I found someone better.

With what used to be love,

Frank.

I cry, so hard I can't breath, so loud that it echoes for years throughout my hollow mind.

I drink myself dry, drink until my heart just about stops.

|||

I sit up and open my eyes after that one, my phone is ringing and I quickly answer it.

“Hello?” I chime into the phone.

“Gee, hi.” Just the way my name is said make my whole body tense.

“Frank…” I hum, unable to say anything of any other words to say.

“So, you’ve been calling…” He mumbles.

“Yeah… I… I really miss you…” I murmur, “How-... Um, how have you been?”

“I’m alright… What about you? You don’t sound very alright…” Frank says, his voice is low, as if he’d just awoken.

“I’m okay… I just… I’ve been thinking too much.” I sigh.

“You’re not okay, I can hear it in your voice, even after all these years you still can’t hide the fact that you suck at hiding that.” He’s rolling his eyes, I can tell, “I-... Do… Do you want me to come over and we can talk about it?”

“Uh-... What?” My heart is pounding.

“I can come see you if-... If you wanna talk?” He says.

“I’m in the middle of nowhere.” I reply.

“Good thing I know where that is.” And the phone call ends.

|||

A car pulls up behind mine close to two hours later. I don't even pay attention to it as I stare up at the cloudless sky. The sun would be setting soon enough and I'd end up staying here again. People will probably get worried by tomorrow but it didn't matter to me.

“Gerard Way…” I hear the heart palpitation inducing voice of my past lover.

I sit up just as he steps up to the front of my car. He really did change a lot but still looked exactly the same. Long hair and a beard, somehow more handsome than ever.

“Frank Iero…” I hum.

“Still exactly the same as I remember.” He speaks.

“I could say the same to you.” I reply.

“So…” He jumps up onto the hood of my old car, “You're sober?”

“Yep… Almost two years clean now.” I half-smile at him.

“Wow. Almost three since… That night…” Frank frowns a bit and I reach for his and out of instinct.

“I was planning on proposing that night you know…?” I look up at him and he give me a heartbroken and shocked look.

“Oh my god… Gerard… I…” He shakes his head, his long black locks sliding over his face like calm waves.

“I started drinking because I felt like a loser for never being able to work up the courage to…” I fall back to lay on the windshield.

“No… Gerard, don't go on… Please don't …” He mumbles, “I made the biggest mistake of my life that night and I'll never forgive myself for it.”

“It's my fault.” I feel his hand on mine as he lays back next to me.

“We were both stupid…” He huffs, “I-... When you called last night I just couldn't answer… I couldn't bring myself to… But something about your voicemail made me have to call back…”

“I feel stupid for calling.” I breathe.

“Don’t… I-... Well, to be honest with you… I… I’m glad you did.” Frank admits, “Hearing your voice… It made me remember that there's somebody still out there that cares more than anything.”

“I always have cared more than anything… You’re the one that never loved what we had, Frank.” I feel an angry flame bubble up inside me suddenly.

“I was stupid… I never should’ve said that. I loved you so much but was so pissed that I wanted what happened to sting while I got to be happy… but I never got to be happy. Not without you.” A sigh passes though his lips, “I know it’s stupid to finally say it now, now that it’s too late that is.”

“It’s never too late.” I murmur to the sky which is turning the same colors as that first night here with Frank, burning a pink and blue against the lightest of blues.

Frank runs his fingers through his long hair and it drapes down over the glass. He squeezes my fingers a bit and they tingle from his soft touch. He coughs, it sound kind of forced, almost to break the calmness between us. There was no tension. I mean, awkward, probably a bit but it wasn’t like that time he came to get his things.

We didn’t even have to say words to each other, I didn’t care about the time that’s passed. I just wanted to feel this one more time and I’ve got it, I’ve got everything I could ever want right now.

“Gerard…”

“Frank?” I answer.

“Why would you let me back? It’s so dumb of you.” He turns to look at me.

“Why would you come back? That’s even dumber.” I glance at him and catch a glimpse of that smile of his, that one that I could never resist.

“Well… Because, I’ve always regretted everything I did and said and I really… I still love you.”

“And as do I, Frank. How could I stop?” I sigh, “I’ve loved you since before I even fucking knew you.” I continue staring at the sky, knowing full well that I couldn’t take looking at Frank. He’s not mine and I can’t have him so I can’t get attached again, I can’t be dependant on looking at his beauty for so long.

I let out a breath that’s shakier than my hands, “Frank, what about that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“The girl you left me for.” I say and he tenses.

“I-... Well, she, um… She left… She was pregnant with somebody else's baby… And I also, didn’t love her.”

“Oh…” I nod, watching as the light starts to fade and it gets very dim. I now have the courage to look at Frank, who just so happens to already be watching me.

“We should like… Hang out, like we used to… Before the dating and drinking and everything.” Frank says awkwardly as he stares into my eyes.

“Uh… Yeah, that sounds nice…” I reply just as poorly.

“But right now, I just want to stay under the stars with you.”

And he does.

All night, we sleep next to each other. And for the first time in years, I actually can sleep.

|||

Frank and I text here and there over the next few weeks, making plans that never pan out. He’s busy with his music and I’m busy with my comics. But today is different.

I send a text.

F, please come over, need help with moving stuff out of boxes. Thanks.

He replies fast, I’m actually surprised, he was never that quick even when we were dating.

K. Be there in twenty.

I’m so grateful for him right now. I had just moved into a new place and had boxes piled everywhere and trying to move everything out myself would be close to impossible.

I decide to work on getting some stuff unpacked while I wait for Frank. I remember he said something about a new song of his coming out today so I pull it up on spotify and play it over the speakers, which happen to be some of the only things I’d unpacked in the past couple weeks.

I listen and am in awe of how much better he’d gotten at music. He was subpar before, good nonetheless, but not great. Now he was amazing, he was always so talented…

I get lost in his music when there's a tap on my door. I shut the speakers off and make my way to let Frank in. He’s dressed in his usual t-shirt and too tight skinny jeans.

Beautiful as always.

“Hey, what do you need help with?” He gives me a sweet little wave and a smile that reaches his eyes.

“I just need to start taking shit out of these boxes and find the rest of my comic stuff. I didn’t label any of the boxes so this will be fun.” I chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

“Just as dumb as I remember.” He jokes, brushing against me as he steps inside, looking around at everything, “Nice TV dude! It’s so big!” Frank gushes.

“Thanks, I got it for my gaming addiction.” I smile as he runs his eyes over everything, taking it all in.

“Your place is really nice.” He comments as he sits on the couch and kicks his sneakers off.

“Thank you.” I grin.

“Where do we start?” Frank asks me and I point at the piled up boxes.

“Anywhere that’ll get this shit done.” I say and Frank starts to laugh and I feel my heart explode within me at the sound.

“Okay.” He stands and grabs a box, “Better get started.”

Frank

“I need to get food this week. I’ve been living off of shit raman and take-out for two weeks.” Gerard groans as he pulls a statue out of a box.

“You could do that now if you really wanted. I could go get the stuff you need for you if you wanted?” I offer and he shakes his head, his long hair that was very poorly dyed red swung into his face.

“It’s okay.” He smiles at me and my heart skips a beat. I missed him so much.

It had been three years since I’d seen him and yet nothing has changed.

Well, except for the drinking and dating I mean.

“Speaking of food, are you hungry, b-... Frank?” He stumbles over his words.

“Yeah, a bit. I haven’t eaten all day.” I shrug and rub at the back of my neck.

“It’s almost four, Frank! You have to eat! I’ll order chinese.” Gerard scolds, “Same thing as usual… Well, I-... I mean, as you used to get.” He says. I can understand the sudden confusion. I’m freaked out over it all too.

“Yeah, how do you even still remember that?” I ask even though I still remembered his.

“Because you remember all the little things when someone means so much.” He replies as if it’s something that normal people say to other people all the time.

He gets up and goes into the other room and orders, I can hear him speaking and his words are muffled but it brings me back. He always left the room while ordering food, mostly because of his anorexia problem long ago, it was a habit that had formed I assume.

Once he comes back I’m already going through another box. It’s filled with all of his comic stuff so I set it aside, “What’s in that?” He points at it.

“Uh, your comic stuff.” I say.

“Thanks!” He beams, “I’m gonna go out and get our food.” He points at the door.

“Here, take like, fifteen is it usually for mine?” I hand him a twenty but he pushes it back to me.

“You’re helping me unpack, I’m getting you food.” He insists, “Do you wanna come or you can just chill here while I’m gone?”

“I can stay here.” I smile up at him and he gives me one back.

“Alright, I should be back in around an hour.”

“Have fun!” I wave as he makes his way to the door, laughing that beautiful laugh that was all his own. I’ve never heard anything like it.

As soon as he gets outside I continue snooping through his stuff. I  can’t help but look through the only labeled box in the pile. It says ‘Important + Top Secret stuff’  with ‘fuck off’ scribbled smaller next to it.

I pry it open, gently, and it’s completely filled with comics, old ones and some choppy ideas. I couldn’t stop myself from flipping through them, all of them. There aren’t a whole lot of them but what’s there is so good. The art is fantastic and the writing is phenomenal.

I find a scrapbook on there as well, after pulling it out I find more stacks of comics underneath. I would check them out later, first I wanted to look in this book that was overflowing with pictures and some note pages with ideas on them.

I open to the first page and it has ‘The only memories I care to save’ scrawled messily over the page. I chuckle, same old Gerard. As I open it, the first picture I see is of him and I. And so are the second, third and fourth. There are so many of me, of him and I… There are some of him and Mikey and of some random other stuff of course, some My Chemical Romance pictures, which is predictable. But most of them are the memories of us. I study each one and let them memories come back to me.

The lake, the middle of nowhere nights, the adventures and the trips. Everything was in here. This book was like the most wonderful time machines I’d ever witnessed, the one that could bring me back to the good times, the good old days.

I smile at each of them.

The picture that stands out to me is of that last night. Gerard is holding my hand across the table, both of us leaned in for a kiss. Some random fan offered to take it for us. In the picture, it’s angled just right and you can see the ring in Gerard’s fingers, he’s holding onto it. That was when he was probably going to do it but got too scared.

The thought makes me sad and I close the book, placing it to the side and starting to look through the comics again. They make me feel better until I reach the bottom of the box. There's a satin covered, gold trimmed, ring box in the corner. I pick it up and open it. I run my fingers under my eyes as I notice a drop of water hit the velvet inside, soaking into the cloth. I’m crying.

It was such a beautiful ring. It was engraved, saying ‘You’re really mine’.  I touch my hand to my mouth as I read it. It hurts to see. Just by looking at it I can tell it cost everything he had and just by those words inside I can tell I meant so much more to him than he did to me.

It hurts so much to realize how much I crushed him.

I put everything away and wait for Gerard to get back so I can force a smile over my brokenhearted soul.

|||

Him coming back doesn’t do much but upset me more. He’s sitting there with a huge smile on his face. How bad did I hurt him that he was this happy just to have me in the same room as him?

“Frank?” He catched my attention and I look up from the thing I’ve been staring at in my hands for the past fifteen minutes, “You okay? You’ve been pretty bummed since I got back.”

“I’m fine, yeah.” I nod, lying through my teeth.

“No your not.” He gets up from where he’s sitting on the floor and comes to sit next to me, pushing the box I was sorting through to the side, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I-... Well… Please don’t get mad okay?” I frown.

“What happened?” He’s more concerned than anything.

“I stumbled upon your important box and I found that picture album… And the ring…” I sigh, “And now I feel like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet.”

Gerard sighs and rests his head on my shoulder, “You can have it.”

“I- What?” I squint at him.

“You can have it.” He repeats, “You can have the ring. It means a lot to me but it’s technically yours and it would probably be better off with you anyway.” Gerard shakes his head, his hair tickling my skin.

“I couldn’t take it from you.” I mumble, “Save it for when you find someone special.”

“You’re the only special someone I’ve ever had or ever will have, Frank.” He pushes.

“Just keep it incase.” I insist.

“I’ll keep it for the day that I actually grow some and propose to you.” He smiles at the thought, “Even though that just leaves it with me forever…” He speaks so soft that I assume it was meant more for him so I just pretend not to hear it.

Gerard

“To thank you for coming over everyday for the past week and a half, I'm bringing you out for coffee.” I smile at him and he shakes his head.

“You really don't have to, Gee. I liked helping and spending time with you again.” He speaks.

“And I like spending spending time with you too so please just come so I can have an excuse to spend one more day with you.” I blush.

“Oh.” Frank gets flustered by my words and looks down at his hands in his lap, “Okay, I would like that.” He admits.

“Then hurry up and let's go.” I joke and he stands, sliding his sneakers back on. Even after all this time he still never tied his shoes. I used to do it for him before shows so he wouldn't die.

He bumps into my shoulder as he walks past, “Hurry up.” He mocks with a big smile on his face. I get even redder and turn away with a grin on my face, “Let’s go, Gee!” Frank calls as he steps out the front door. I snap back to reality and grab my keys, hurrying out after my former lover and locking the door on the way.

|||

“I want some!” Frank whines like a child, pointing at the donut I had.

“Why didn’t you get one then!?” I laugh at his whining and he rolls his eyes. He did this all the time, he was pretty much the annoying girlfriend type that would insist they didn’t want anything and then eat most of what you got.

“Because, fuck you that’s why.” He grabs the donut and breaks off a piece, placing it in his mouth.

“This is why we can’t have nice things.” I titter as I take a bite of it myself, biting my lip, hard enough to draw blood, “Fuck!” I groan as I place my hand to my mouth.

“What happened?” Frank cocks his head to the side.

“Bit my lip.” I hum back in pain.

“Let me see.” He says to me and I listen, pulling my hand away. He leans a bit closer to me, observing the cut.

“Kiss it better.” I joke with him out of habit. He leans in and presses his extremely soft mouth to mine for only a moment.

“That help?” He asks. It did, honestly it did. It made my mouth tingle and my hands shake, adrenaline running through me.

“Yeah.” I manage to sound casual, “Thanks.” My voice breaks slightly.

“No problem.” He blushes with a huge smile.

I hand him the rest of my donut and he thanks me softly. We continue with small conversation for a while, filling each other in on the past few years, whatever was missed over the time without each other, which seemed to not be much.

It felt like a sick dream.

But the best dream I’ve had in a long time.

|||

“Gee, fake propose to me. It’ll get us free food.”

That’s the sentence that landed us in this situation. I’m sitting in a fancy as fuck resturant, Frank in front of me in a just as fancy suit with his hair tucked back behind his ears. He looked somehow better than the night I was going to propose for real.

“This was your idea, why can’t you propose, Frank.” I mumble to him.

“Shut up and give me your hand. Can you at least try to make this look real?” He rolls his eyes. We’d done this quite a few times. Mostly when we were just starting out as a band and could barely afford a meal. Usually it was Frank proposing or someone else proposing to us. I’d fake proposed to Mikey hundreds of times, thankfully we didn’t look too similar to raise suspicion.

I grab his hands, mine are clammy and gross but Frank didn’t seem to mind. He never did.

Our meals arrived and I was too nervous to eat. I was reliving the worst night of my life. If I just stayed away from alcohol maybe it wouldn’t end so poorly. That’s what I hoped for at least.

Frank eats without a problem, without hesitation. I poke at my meal until I just can’t anymore. Frank noticed my lack of appetite and pointed at my dinner plate with his fork, “Eat.” He says with food in his mouth.

“I’m not that hungry.” I shake my head.

“Gerard, eat. You used to do this when you were starving yourself. I know you well enough by now. Eat.” He pushes.

“I’m fine now, Frank. I’m really not hungry. I had food just before you came up with this spur of the moment idea.” I insist. I would eat later, I just couldn’t stomach food right now.

“I want to see you eat before I go home.” He nods and I smile at him.

“Okay. I’m just not hungry right now.” I repeat.

“That’s fine.” Frank coos.

He eats, we talk and act like we're in love.

Well, he acts, I do.

He finishes his food and I know that now I have to propose. Fake or not, I’m just as nervous as every other time I was going to do it, “Frank.” I say and he looks up at me, his beautiful eyes glowing in the dim lighting.

“Yes, Baby.” He purrs and I feel myself grow warm, my cheeks heating up.

“Um…” I start to fumble with the ring. It was the one I was going to use that last night, “So, I-... Well, I um… I really love you… You know that right?” He nods, looking at me with a huge grin plastered to his face. A real one, as if this were all real, “And, well… You’re my-... My everything, Frank. I love you with all my heart and soul and I never will stop loving you… Even after everything we’ve been through… I just… I can’t stop loving you. You are my favorite everything, the perfect melody to the most beautiful song. Your eyes make the stars seem dull and the world look grey as they stole all the colors and light from it all. Your laugh is a lyric so perfect it makes every other lyric look bad and that smile of yours… That’s something else… You steal my breath with a single glance as I fall in love over and over again with you. You never leave my mind and I just… I love you more than words could ever describe, more than any emotion or feeling could ever convey.” I pause and look up at Frank from where I had been staring down at my hands, he’s in tears. He was always good at acting, at playing pretend, “So, Will… Um… Will you marry me?” I hold out the ring to him and his jaw drops, the tears falling harder from his eyes as he nods.

“Yeah, of course I will…” His voice is hoarse and distraught. I go to place the ring on his finger, “I can’t take that.” He mumbles to me as I lean in to kiss him for dramatic effect.

“Please, just for the act.” I pleaded and he relents, letting me place the ring on his hand. He kisses me with a forceful push, so much emotion rushing through his mouth to me.

People are cheering around us and somebody who works here brings out a cake. I sit back in my seat with my fingers pressed to my lips. The rush that his mouth caused was special and so much more powerful than anything. People came and congratulated us. I couldn’t speak, afraid to lose this feeling.

We leave and Frank is still smudging tears around his face as he climbs into the car. I get in and start it, “Frank, are you okay?” I reach over and touch his knee. After almost a year of reconnecting with him it still felt so weird to touch him.

“Yeah… Fine.” He gives me a dim smile, “All that stuff you said just got to me.” He mumbles, rubbing vigorously at his eyes to stop the tears. He suddenly jerks his hands away from his face and pulls the perfectly sized ring from his hand, “I don’t want to forget about this.” He sniffles.

“No. Frank, please just keep it. I have nothing to do with it. I can’t wear it myself, it makes me too upset. Please just keep it.” I beg, “I had it made for you, Frank. Not for me.” I sigh.

“You had this… Made… For-... For me?” His voice trembles as more tears fall. I nod.

“Yeah, you’re special, one of a kind, so I had to get you something that was just as special as you.” I admit and shrug as though it doesn’t hurt.

“I-... Thank you, Gerard… So much.” He speaks and turns to look out the window, still crying as he now plays with the ring on his hand.

I wanted to just say that what I told him today was exactly what I planned to say that night that it ended.

But I didn’t

He’d gone through enough tonight as it was.

Maybe someday I’d tell him.

|||

The middle of nowhere, where it all started, where it nearly ended (for me at least) and where I lay again. This time Frank’s here, this time I’m not downing pills, this time I’m not drunk, this time I’m not trying to find a way to stop the suffering.

This time I’m just laying under the stars with the person that holds my hand, the person that holds my heart and my soul, the person I love.

His thumb runs over the back of my hand, a single rough patch on his smooth skin from his guitar strings wearing away at his hands after all these years. We’re watching the stars and he’s showing me the constellations like he used to. It was too dark for me to see his pretty eyes or that charming smile, but I could feel his hand tense when he’d laugh or giggle, the way he would relax when I’d speak.

I can feel the ring I’d given him months ago still firmly on his finger. Our hands were warm, not uncomfortable and sweaty, warm but comfortable, warm. The breeze ran over us and Frank shivered a bit. I hand him my jacket and he wraps it around himself, it’s massive on him even though I’m not that big myself. Frank was so small, not even five feet. I loved that, wrapping my arms around him and resting my chin on his head. I’d have to tilt my head up slightly to do it but either way, it was my favorite.

“Hey, Gee.” He squeezes my hand.

“Yeah, Frankie?” I breathe in contentment.

“I-... Well, never mind.” He mumbles and tries to pull his hand back from mine. I wrap an arm around him in a sudden burst of courage and pull him against me, “What are you doing?” He seems flustered as he attempts to get out of my grasp.

“You looked cold.” I coo and he calms down, “Now, what is it you wanted to say.” He shakes his head against me, “Spill.” I poke is side and he jumps.

“Uh… Well, that night when you fake proposed… I cried really hard because everything you said was… Was so… Genuine… And like, I really… I wanted it to be real so bad…” He starts to cry, not just soft falling tears but sobbing, heavy hot breaths of air spilling over my skin, “Gerard, I wanted all of that stuff to be real! I-... It just… You sounded like you meant it and it felt… So… Real…” He hiccups and presses his face into my shoulder, “I’m sorry… I… I’m still in love with you… I’m sorry…” He bawls, I start to pet his hair to calm him down.

“Shh, Frankie, it’s okay… Shh.” I coo, “Please don’t cry, hey… Hey, I have to tell you something, Frankie…” I try to get his attention. He tries to calm down so I just start, “I-... Frank I really did mean all of that, I… Um… Well, I was going to tell you, basically all of that the night I lost you…” I confess.

Frank peers up at me, still crying and visibly upset, “R-... Really?” He stammers hopefully.

“Yes, of course, Frank… I never stopped loving you… it's always been you.” I say to him with as much emotion as my body could convey. I squeeze him closer to me and tip his face up to look at me with my finger, “I'm still in love with you, I always will be.” I press my lips to his, my body tingling with a sudden burst of energy, my lips moving against his perfectly. Our mouths fit together like missing puzzle pieces. We fit together like that, perfect.

He puts his arms around me and smiles, pulling away. I let out a shaky breath, “I missed this…” He hums.

“I missed you.” I tell him and he laces our fingers, “Can we start over?”

“Only if I can do this whenever I want.” He kisses me.

“Gladly.” I say, “You have to promise not to leave.”

“Deal.” He grins and bumps his forehead to mine.

“You’re really mine.”

“Finally yours.”

The middle of nowhere is for the broken hearted and shattered souls to fall in love again and again.

The middle of nowhere is for the loved.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[whichie]

Heal Me and Let Me Live

summary:

“Neil could see Andrew out of the corner of his eye barreling towards them, but he was too late. Riko’s racquet hit the side of Neil’s head and the resounding crack that went through the court silenced everything. Neil registered a blinding pain before everything went dark. He was sprawled on the floor, head bent at an unnatural angle and the side of his face broken and bleeding. Everyone was staring, hardly breathing, until Andrew reached Riko and shattered his arm with his own racquet.

Neil was dead.”

a/n: i was thinking about an au where neil has the ability to heal himself and this was the result.

read it on ao3

Neil wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for his power. That's a fact.

When he first became a Fox, he didn't’ know a lot of things. He didn't know why him and his mom were on the run, he didn't know why he couldn’t play exy, and he didn't know what he was going to do now that she was gone. But the one thing Neil does know now is that if he didn't heal extraordinarily fast, he'd be six feet under already.

It wasn't such a hard power to hide, all he does is make sure no one notices if he scrapes his knees or get a papercut. It wasn't such an obvious power like his mothers, whose big, black wings were always tucked away and out of sight.

He never saw them often, but he has hazy memories of their wide span before they were on the run, and how his mother loved nothing more than to be in the air. He can't help thinking about how she never once took them out of the brace that kept them strapped to her back during those long years, and how the glimpses of bent feathers and atrophied muscle he got of them when she changed clothes didn't line up with the sprawling beauties he remembers as as child.

(sometimes those wings haunt his dreams, when the weight of Riko and his father starts to get too much to bear)

It was one of those nights, he awoke to the phantom sound of flapping wings and his mother's warnings to never tell anyone about what he can do. She was always afraid of that, of the threat his father posed to Neil’s life, about what his father would do to Neil, how his father would use him as an invincible soldier in his twisted family.

So he grabbed a jacket and went up to the roof where he lit a cigarette and tried not to let the memories overwhelm him.

The silence was interrupted by his phone alerting him to a new message. He knew what it would say before he even got it out of his pocket, and the sole “1” on the screen didn't surprise him at all. He wonders what they have planned for him tomorrow, what they're going to do to him. He’s not worried about his safety more than he is about seeing his father, and about what his father is going to do to his team.

When his cigarette burnt out, leaving only the smell of his mother and the heavy feeling in his chest that he always got when thinking about her, he decided that he wasn't in any danger of buying a bus ticket and never coming back. The sun was lighting up the sky in fiery reds and burnt oranges, and he turned away from the ledge of the roof with the image of a flaming car still behind his eyelids.

Some of the Foxes were shuffling around the kitchen and living room when he got downstairs, and the only one awake enough to speak full sentences was Nicky, who gave him a warm, “Good morning, Neil!” and turned back to heating up leftover lasagna for breakfast. Nicky’s power was something he had to get used to the first few weeks he came to Fox tower, as the brunet’s flames reminded him of things he'd rather not think about.

Matt gave him a lazy wave from the couch, and continued to half heartedly scroll through the channels on the tv and absentmindedly floating the remotes around in the air.

It was a scene he wishes he wasn't there to witness, the two of them doing such mundane things with their powers, being so comfortable with it. It made him itch to leave and never come back, but he remembered the flashes of wings taking flight and his mother's warnings in his ear.

So instead he slipped on his running shoes and left the tower as fast as he could, only barely acknowledging the “Bye!” Nicky sent his way.

.

.

.

Today’s sobering “0” had arrived during lunch. Neil didn't know what to make of it or what to expect next. It was as anticlimactic as it was nerve wracking. He wanted to erase the message as he had every single one before it, but when his phone prompted him for confirmation he snapped it closed instead. He put his phone away again, turned backward in the seat, and pushed up onto his knees to look at Andrew.

Andrew’s power was one Neil had never seen before, and that said a lot considering he’s been everywhere. Constantly surrounding Andrew was tendrils of shadow that moved around almost as lazily and uninterested as Andrew does. Sometimes though, Neil see Andrew playing with them, making them move and dance around. He’s sure Andrew knows that he knows — because Andrew always knows everything, It's the shadows, I can see what they see, he once said in their truth for truth game — and it makes him feel a little better that Andrew allows him to see that side of himself.

Andrew ignored him, but Neil didn't mind. He was content to look for now, arms folded over the back of the seat and chin propped on a forearm. He didn't know what he was looking for. Andrew looked as he always had, and Neil knew his face as he knew every iteration of his own. Despite that, something was different. Maybe it was the sunlight streaming through the window, making Andrew’s pale hair shine brighter and his hazel eyes seem almost gold. Whatever it was, it was disorienting. A wordless question buzzed under Neils skin, leaving him restless and out of sorts.

“Hey,” Neil said, because maybe if Andrew looked at him he'd figure it out.

It took a moment, but Andrew finally slid his calm gaze his way. Andrew only tolerated the staring for a minute before saying, “Stop.”

“I'm not doing anything.”

“I told you not to look at me like that.”

Neil didn't understand, so he let it slide. “Is it exhausting seeing everything as a fight?”

“Not as exhausting as running away from everything must be.”

“Maybe,” Neil allowed. “I told you I'm working on that.”

“Work harder.”

“I can't unless you let me go,” Neil said, quiet but firm. “Stand with me, but don't fight for me. Let me learn to fight for myself.”

“You never explained the change of heart.”

“Maybe I'm tired of seeing Kevin bend. Or maybe it was the zombies.” when Andrew just stared at him, Neil shrugged and said, “A few weeks back you and Renee argued contingency plans for a zombie apocalypse. She said she’d focus on survivors. You said you'd go back for some of us. Five of us,” Neil said, splaying his fingers at Andrew. “You weren't counting Abby or Coach. Since you trust Renee to get the rest of the team, I'm guessing the last spot is for Dobson.”

Neil knew he wouldn't answer that, so he dropped his hand and said, “I didn't say anything then because I knew I’d look out for only myself when the world went to hell. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you.”

“You wouldn't,” Andrew said. “You're a different kind of suicidal. Didn't you figure that out in December? You're bait. You're the martyr no one asked for or wanted.”

Neil knew he wasn't that good of a person, but all he haid was, “Only one way to be sure, right?”

“You'll regret it.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Andrew looked away. “Don't come crying to me when someone breaks your face.”

“Thank you.”

.

.

.

Neil knew it was stupid, but he felt like he deserved the pain and scarring his father and his lackeys gave him in Baltimore. It was the burnt skin and cuts that flared every time he moved that said, You deserve this for thinking you can outrun your past, this is what you get for stopping and trying to be happy.

He could heal them right away, but he didn't. It was a reminder that he would never be a real person no matter how long he lived as Neil Josten. At first he didn't heal them because he didn't want Lola to know that her torture could last forever if she wanted, but then he was rescued by his uncle. The car ride to the motel where his teammates were waiting made him realize that no matter how many times he healed his wounds, the scars they left on his soul would always be there.

He might as well make the outside match the inside.

.

.

.

The final game against the Ravens was as harrowing as it was exhausting. The Ravens got red carded multiple times for foul play, once for tripping Nicky with a racquet, another for shooting the ball directly at Matt's face instead of the goal, and the last one was made by a striker who barreled right into Andrew instead of stopping to go after the ball when he hit it down the court. It was such an unpredictable move that Andrew’s shadows didn't have time to warn him about it until it was too late and he was already pushed against the pressure plate, lighting it up red like a christmas tree.

And the Foxes weren't without their cards either. Many of the yellow cards were because Riko would blame goals that we made on Matt controlling the ball to score. It wasn't the first time Matt’s been accused of that, and after so long playing the game he was used to it, and so were the referees, but they had no way of really knowing if the claims were true or not so they carded him anyways.

It went on like this for the rest of the game, and every Fox was tired and out of breath by the end. Neil didn't know they’d reached the last minute of the game until the buzzer blared overhead. His body knew what that sound meant and finally gave out on him. He fell to his knees and barely managed to catch himself with his hands. His stomach twisted inside him, but he didn't have the energy to throw up. Oxygen-starved muscles felt like they were disintegrating, but it hurt too much to breathe. Neil’s mouth worked it short gasps that did nothing for him.

The buzzer went off again, and Neils heart stopped.

The ringing in his ears wasn't all him. His team mates were screaming, wordless war cries of disbelief and victory. Nicky was so happy he kept accidentally starting littles fires everywhere, and Aaron had to keep putting them out with his wind. Niel's fingers shook so badly it was almost impossible to get the straps of his helmet undone, but finally he managed to throw his helmet off to one side. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and looked up to the scoreboard.

Ten-nine, Foxes favor — Kevin had scored in the last two minutes of the game.

Neil wished he could smile, but it took all his strength just took look at Riko. The Raven captain and Exy King was staring at the scoreboard like he expected it to change. The Foxes were running for each other, still screaming their fool heads off, but the Ravens stood still as stone. It was the first loss in Edgar Allen history, and they'd fallen to the unlikeliest of opponents.

Neil sucked in a breath that ripped him open on it's way down. “I’d ask you how it feels, but I guess you've always known what it's like to be second, you worthless piece of shit.”

Riko finally dragged his gaze away from the scoreboard. He stared at Neil blank-faced and stunned, and then revulsion twisted his face into something terrible. His racquet went up over his head, but it took Neil only a moment to realize Riko really intended to take a swing at him. Dan screamed his name from halfway across the court, but there was nothing Neil could do except to watch Riko’s racquet start down. He barely had the strength to breathe, dodging was out of the question.

Neil could see Andrew out of the corner of his eye barreling towards them, but he was too late. Riko’s racquet hit the side of Neil’s head and the resounding crack that went through the court silenced everything. Neil registered a blinding pain before everything went dark. He was sprawled on the floor, head bent at an unnatural angle and the side of his face broken and bleeding. Everyone was staring, hardly breathing, until Andrew reached Riko and shattered his arm with his own racquet.

Neil was dead.

Rikos screaming was overshadowed by the Fox’s, and all of them came running down the court to surround Neil’s body. He was dead, they couldn't believe it. Kevin had to hold on the Andrew for dear life to stop him from hitting Riko again, and he knew that if Andrew got into racquet distance of Riko he’d get a lot worse than a broken arm.

Neil was dead.

Nicky was crying, Allison was looking down at Neil, horrified, and Renee was hiding in Alison's arms. The rest of the Ravens were staring between Neil and Riko like they didn't know what to do next. The referees were swarming the players, and trying to herd them away from Neil, but none of them were having it. They were fighting the referees and EMTs to get back to Neil, and Andrew was still caged in Kevins arms to stop him from finishing Riko.

Neil was dead.

And then he wasn't.

It was utter chaos on the court, but for the second time in five minutes everyone was stunned silent as they heard the crack of Neil's neck as it corrected itself, his broken nose righted, and the wound that ran from the side of his head down across his left eye healed in front of everyone. It was another second or two before Neil took the first long, ragged breath and bolted upright, hand going straight to his throat as if he could feel it breaking.

No one moved, and then Nickey shoved a referee out of the way and staggered a step closer. “What the fuck, Neil.”

Neil lost sight of Riko as the Foxes swarmed him. Gloved fingers patted his head and shoulders, making sure he really was alive and okay. Neil tuned out their frantic demands, more interested in hearing Riko’s endless, agonized screaming. Then Dan caught his face in her hands and gave him a shake.

“Neil ,” she said, so desperate and afraid he had to look at her.

“Hey,” Neil said, hoarse with exhaustion and feeling heavy after his body did so much healing. “We won.”

Dan looked at him in incredulation for him acting as if he didn't just get murdered in front of their eyes, but then she threw her arms around him and buried a choked laugh against his padded shoulder. “Yeah, Neil. We won!”

.

.

.

As he suspected, they were all pissed that he kept the fact that he had powers from them, but after Neil reassured them that he was fine — which got him some serious glares — they let it go. They knew Neil too long to be that surprised that he was keeping secrets.

It was a week after that Waymack got a call from the police saying that Riko’s court date was next month, and that Neil didn't need to testify because everything was caught on cameras and in front of thousands of witnesses, but he still could go if he wanted. Neil only scoffed when Coach told him and continued watching tv with Nicky and Aaron.

It took the jury four hours to decide if what Riko did was assault or murder. Some said that because Neil is still alive that it shouldn't be ruled murder, but others argued that Neil had died, and only because of his powers was he even still breathing. They compromised and called it attempted voluntary manslaughter, because Riko tried to kill Neil, and even though he did for a short while, Neil was still alive.

Riko was sentenced to ten years in prison and five years of parole, and when the Foxes got the news they started drinking and handing over money to Allison, who was the closest in guessing the punishment (and though Andrew will never admit it, he told Allison the average sentencing of a first degree felony for half of her winnings).

It was almost surreal for Neil in the aftermath of the game. The school was treating them the nicest they had ever treated the Foxes, and the reporters were hounding them everywhere they went asking about Neil’s power, how they felt about winning, what they were going to do next.

And honestly, none of them knew the answers to any of the questions, except that they felt great about punching Edgar Allen into the dust, and Aaron said as much to one reporter who looked like she was on cloud nine for getting any statement out of the team.

Neil felt a pang of something every time he looked into the mirror and saw the jagged scar that ran from above his ear and down over his left eye. For the first time in his life he didn't hold on to this wound because he felt like he deserved it, but because it was a reminder that he can survive and win and live.

And if Andrew traced the raised skin during those quiet nights on the roof where his mother's wings never went, then he didn't say anything about it.

[ecotone99]

[RF] The Prologue and first chapter of a story I call The Horizon's Hues (long)

I look out of glazed eyes onto a colorless cafeteria were at least two hundred of my classmates eat, talk, laugh, and gossip over the round tables filling the giant room. Almost everyone enjoys the short period of the day where whole friend groups and romantic pairs can be together. Everyone's caught up in their conversations or activities, but no one is oblivious to the people in the room who don’t hold lunch so high on their favorites list. Not everyone has someone to spend lunch with. We are told to be nice and look for people who might be alone, but no one ever does. Even the looming presence of teachers don’t have the compassion to reach out. I am one of these people called “loners”. From my point of view the loners are just seeking attention by being pitied and sneaking their way into friend groups of people who feel sorry for them. Me on the other hand try to attract as little attention as possible, sometimes even going out of my way to avoid it. Some of these loners crave friendship and social acceptance, but I see no purpose in such things. After all I am still alive after 16 years and I have had no one I would consider a so called friend. People laugh and cry together, but these feeling have always been a mystery to me. I could never relate to being angry, sad, joyful, etc. Even tho I saw people around me running about with smiles or tears on their faces. I could never quite decipher the reasoning behind them. This is one of the two reasons I tend to stray away from the herd. The other reason is that I can’t see color. My eyes see things differently than most people. I see grays and blacks and whites while others see a rainbow of color. It is like watching the black and white channel on tv because you can’t find the remote so you decide to just deal with it. Emotions play a strong role in the foundation of any relationship. Be it love in a friendship or romantic relationship or admiration in a worker to boss relation or in a child and parent relationship. What many people don’t realize is how much color has to do in a relationship. Imagine a friend asking you if a color looks good on them, or if you like the color scheme of something, or even just talking about your favorite colors. With how little I know about emotions matched with my sight is a deadly dose in any friendship. It is just too hard to relate to everyone all the time, so I prefer to be alone.

I wake to the sound of a dying animal that is my alarm clock. I turn to my left and quickly hit the off button to stop the onslaught of noise invading my ears and ripping me violently from my dreams. I look at the clock to see flashing light gray numbers that read 6:30. I sluggishly sit up and rub my eyes not quite ready to get out of my lumpy bed. I look out of the top window where I am greeted with a sunrise. I should see a light blue sky with a blend of beautiful hues of red, orange and purple, but instead it all gloops together into a mush of grays. The astonishing view of the Texas sunrise has been reduced to what looks like a crumpled up family picture with all the memories it once had gone with the people that held them so close. I turn my head to my room dismissing the sight. The room is small and quaint giving it a homey vibe. It was originally an attic, but after I turned six my mom thought I should have my own room instead of sharing one with her. So she transform the attic into a small bedroom for me. My bed is push underneath the only window in the room which has a badly installed air conditioner that lets in rain. Across the room is a vanity with the mirror ripped out and an emo band poster in its place. It’s matched with a “rolling” office chair that has lost all of its feet and now can only swivel. I stand up and walk over to my dresser resting against the far wall. It has mixed matched handles not one quite resembling another, a rooted off top exposing the top drawers, and only one foot making it lopsided. I open one of the middle drawers and grab my usual outfit of a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I change my clothes, throwing the dirty ones in a hamper, then stand in front of the vanity mirror I nailed to one of the beams holding the house’s roof up. Inside I see my small body reflected back at me. People have told me I have brown eyes and that match my brown, wavy, long hair. I part my hair into a left side part and steal one last scan of myself before I go. I’m shorter and thinner than average with some of my bone visible in some spots with my hair reaching to the middle of my back. I walk towards the door and grab my signature light gray jacket and my messenger bag. I bend down and lift the hatch that leads to a later for easy access to the ground floor. I climb down, walk through the hallway and turn past the living area to the kitchen. My mom sits half in and half out if the window with a cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun and she has a gray waitress uniform on that says Jo’s Dinner across the breast pocket. When she notices I am there she blows a puff of smoke out the window and turns to face me.

“How’s my little angel doing this morning,” my mom asks in an bright tone.

“Fine” This is the same routine we go through every morning. My mom has called me angel since I was a little girl because whenever someone watched me they would always tell my mom I was an angel. I still don’t really break the rules if there isn’t a reason to, so my reputation still reigns true.

“So what are you going to do this weekend,” my mom questions as she turns back to the window.

“Sarah asked if I could spend the night at her house tonight if your cool with it,” I say trying to attempt a happy voice.

“Of course you can go. You do know you can have your friends over here,” my mom said in a in a worried tone.

“Yes” I say in an exasperated voice.

I walk over to the counter and steal a piece of my mom’s toast before I head out.

“Bye mom” I say closing the door not giving her time to respond.

I walk down the sidewalk with my earbuds in and my old mp3 player playing some old music. As the prospect of school looms literally around the corner I like to distract myself with the classic rock songs of the 80’s. The entrance to school is always crowded with people standing around waiting for friends, so I tend to sneak in one of the back doors. The theater kids use as a loading dock for there props and they have a bad habit of leaving it unlocked after their practices. I walk over to the dock and open the door to find a pitch black hallway that leads to the stage of the auditorium. I walk to the end and then on stage and I keep going until I am at the door leading out of the room. I push it open and walk into a common area waiting room where people wait for the doors to concerts of plays to open. Like me, a mediocre amount of students wait for class here in the mornings. I find an open chair in the corner and turn up my headphones to max to block out as much sound as possible. I peer over a boy’s shoulder and read the time off his phone and see that I have about twenty minutes before I need to head for class. I lean back in my chair the best I can and close my eyes. I let my mind run wild, thinking about a different life in a far off place. I settle on a fantasy world full of magic and let my mind naturally create a life and scenarios in it. I call theses moments alone Mind Movies. Whenever I am bored or waiting to do something I “watch” a Mind Movie.

I have a feeling it is about time to go so I open my eyes and look at the time again. I was about five minutes early, but I guess I could leave now. Getting up I walk past the tables of the common area and try and exit out into the hall. I walk down the crowded hallways squeezing pass my priors to get to first period. I eventually find my way to B108 my history class. My seat is in the back next to the far wall. I sit right behind this girl who reads under her breath and talks to the guy beside her a little too much. Her friend used to sit next to me, but she got moved across the room for “inappropriate classroom edict” in other words she was talking during the lessons.

I am usually the first one to sit down since the rest of the class is talking to their friends either in here or the hall, today is no different. I take my seat and look up to the clock which reads 8:35 about ten minutes until the bell for class rings. A group of kids sit in the corner adjacent to mine talking about the latest drama. I pull out my library book called Frozen Sun. I turn to the six chapter labeled Icy Cores where I left off yesterday and start to read about the dead suns of the universe. I get so invested that I almost don’t realize when someone takes the seat next to me. This isn’t unusual for a group of students to sometimes take the seat back here to talk, but this time without even looking up I know this person is alone.

“Hi my name is Claire,” she says in my direction. I can tell that this greeting is meant to be reciprocated, but I don’t want to have a talking session take away from my book.

“Hi,” I say hoping the short response will scare her away.

“ Um... what’s your name?”

By the tone of her voice I can tell my strategy is working.

“ Val.”

“Well Val, I am new here and Mr. Stewart told me this seat was open and that if I had any questions or need help finding something in the building than to ask someone around me,” she says seeming to have her confidence back.

“Well the girl that sits in front of me will be more than happy to show you around. Her name is Sarah by the way.”

“Oh... thanks I guess,” she said in a somewhat confused sounding voice. I am pretty sure she is done talking to me so I return to my book that my eyes never left in the first place.

“So what do we usually do in this class anyways,” Claire says with a brighter tone then before. It is almost like she knows what I am doing and fighting back with her intrusiveness. Well I can fight too.

“ I don’t understand why you are still talking to me when I already said that Sarah would answer your questions,” I say putting a little irritation in my voice. That will definitely get her to leave me alone.

“I just.. thought we.. could be friends,” she says in a small voice.

I am a little taken aback by this. No one has ever tied to be my “friend” since preschool maybe because we haven’t had an new people in years and word of me spreads quickly to new comers. I can’t stop myself before my reaction slips and I look up from my book to see a girl with light gray hair and a nice shirt and jeans sitting next to me. She is looking at me with an emotion I can’t quite place in her dark eyes.

“Oh,” I say not thinking.

Ding ding

“Class take your seats it is time to start. Please turn to page 56 in your history book.”

It looks like I lost …or was she even fighting?

submitted by /u/PowerfulResearcher [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2Hscc9B

[poorlywrote]

“Where am I,” I think to myself. I’m lying on the ground, so I get up and dust myself off. “Jacob Carter. Ready for your first day,” I hear a demonic voice say. I remember where I am. Hell. I somehow died, leaving my friends, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend Kelsey. I nod my head to answer the voice. My “first day” refers to my first day of punishment. Since this is hell, they give everyone here a personal punishment to make sure it hurts. Mine is to watch my girlfriend as a spirit. I can see her and watch over her, but she can’t see or hear me. Everything disintegrates around me and turns into a small, plain bedroom. I would recognize my girl anywhere. Kelsey is sitting on a teal and white chevron twin sized bed. I smile to myself, “Damn I love her,” I say out loud because she can’t hear me. Although, even if she could, I would still say that. She’s on her phone, but soon throws it down on the bed. I walk over to see she’s trying to text me. She has been for for the past week it seems like. I immediately start to feel horrible. I look to her and see she’s silently crying. She picks up the phone again and texts some more. I sit next to her so I can see her phone. She’s texting her two best friends. “Guys, he’s not texting back. I’m getting worried,” she sends to a group chat named “besties” After a minute of her just staring at the text she just sent, her friend Emily replies. “Good, he’s not good enough for you anyway” Kelsey rolls her eyes then replies, “whatever I love him.” I smile at her, then I remember she can’t see me. After some time, an older boy walks into her room; I assume he’s her older brother. “Hey loser, it’s time for supper,” the boy says in a deep voice. “Fine,” she just replies as she turns off her phone and walks out. Part 2 After a couple minutes, Kelsey comes back into her room with a plate. I sit on her bed and notices what she has; a little bit of macaroni, some carrots, and a pork chop. She looks to her doorway and quickly shoves the plate under her bed. She stands up and sits down on her bed. I don’t understand why she put it under her bed, so I get off her bed and look under it incase there was a person or an animal or something under there. All I see is her plate. She stands up and walks out and I lay down on her bed. When she comes back, I see she has a bottle of water with her. She sits back down on her bed, sitting on my hand. I instinctively yelp and pull my hand up, but then I realize that I’m a ghost and that didn’t even hurt me. I laugh at myself for a minute because of how stupid I am. I look to her, she’s just staring at her phone screen. It’s not even turned on. At first I’m confused, until her phone lights up. I see a twinkle of excitement in her eyes as she sits up straight and smiles a huge smile. The smile quickly fades as she slouches back down. Her eyes become misty. “It’s just Will,” she mumbles to herself. She turns on her phone and goes to her texts with me. “Hey… please answer me,” she sends without thinking. She sends text after text. The more texts she sends, the more guilt fills me. Until, I break down sobbing. “Kelsey, please, I’m right here. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to die.” She starts to cry. “No! Baby don’t cry! Don’t cry… I made you cry. I’m a monster. Kelsey, I’m so sorry…” I watch the tears fall from her face onto her phone. “I did this didn’t I… I chased him away. I’m such an idiot,” Kelsey yells as nothing. She continues to cry until she gets out of bed and runs into the bathroom. Chapter 3 I wait almost fifteen minutes outside her bathroom because it would be weird if I walked in with her peeing or something. After a while, I poke my head in to make sure she’s okay. I look to find her crying on the edge of her bathtub. I walk through the wall and sit next to her. She grabs her phone and dials my number. It goes to voicemail. “It’s Kelsey. Where she hell have you been? Call me back as soon as possible, you’re worrying me. I love you so much. Bye.” She hangs up and continues to cry. After a couple of minutes, she stands up and looks at herself in the mirror. “He probably hates me. He probably sees me calling and laughs at me. I’m such a dumbass. Why would someone like him love someone like me. I’m ugly and fat and pathetic. I was probably just some charity case. He must’ve found a prettier and smarter girl to replace me, although it isn’t hard to find someone like that.” She glares at herself until she breaks down. “But he promised! He promised we’d get married, he promised he loved me, he promised he would always be there for me,” she falls to the ground sobbing. “He promised!” I just stand there. I did this to her. I stand there wishing I could hold her and tell her everything was alright. I stand there hoping she will finally see me. I stand there counting the seconds as they go by because if I don’t distract myself with anything, I will start crying and will never be able to stop. I did promise her. I promised her everything and anything. I lived to see her happy. I loved her smile and her dimples. I love everything about her, and it hurts me to see her cry. It was my fault I died. It was suicide. I remember standing on the ledge of the roof of an abandoned parking garage. I was going to jump, until I felt my phone buzz and I saw it was from Kelsey. “Hey, I know this is random. But I just wanted to remind you that I’m in love with you and I hope you’re having a good day. Bye babe.” It made time stop and I remembered my promises to her. I was about to step down and go straight to her house to hug her, but a huge gust of wind came out of nowhere. I lost my balance and fell to my death. Now I’m here. If I hadn’t been so dumb as to climb up there, I wouldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t be crying. I hate myself. What kind of boyfriend lets his girlfriend cry like this? I’m going to fulfill my promises to her. I have to. I will find a way. No matter what I have to do. Chapter 4 After almost an hour of listening to Kelsey sob, she stands up and looks at herself in the mirror again. She carefully wipes the tears from her cheeks then takes toilet paper and dabs it around her eyes. She pinches her eyelashes to get rid of the tears from them then attempts to spread them because they were stuck together from so much crying. She then pinches her cheeks until they’re pink then tries to fake a smile. You can still tell that she is sad if you look at her just a little too long. While her smile may look happy, her green eyes show too much emotion and you can clearly see the heartbeat in them if you look close enough. Her eyes also turn a brighter shade of green when she cries. Odd, but beautiful. She quickly walks out of the bathroom and goes to her kitchen to get a water. I guess crying that much would make you dehydrated. “Kelsey,” I hear a deep voice yell from the back of her small apartment. Kelsey sighs, “what do you want, Chris,” she yells back. Chris is her older brother. He’s four years older than Kelsey, making him twenty-two. “Get me a brownie,” he shouts. “Lazy ass brother,” Kelsey mumbles to herself as she gets the brownie and brings it to her brother. “Where’s mom and dad,” he asks instead of thanking her. “Dad’s at work and mom when to bring Shane to his friends house.” Shane is her younger brother. He’s thirteen, five years younger than Kelsey. “Cool,” is all her brother responds with as he nods to the door, hinting her to leave. “When are you going back to University,” She asks, ignoring his request for her to leave. “Two weeks.” “Cool,” and with that, she walks back into her room. She sits on her bed and just stares up at the ceiling for a few hours. I wonder what she’s thinking. Eventually, her parents and younger brother get home. She ignores them and just lays in bed. After almost three hours of her just laying there, she snaps out of it and checks her phone. It’s 11:36 p.m. “Shit! I have school tomorrow!” She grabs some shorts and an oversized shirt out of her closet and goes to the bathroom. I don’t go in this time because she’s probably changing. After a couple of minutes, she walks out in the clothes she brought in and her hair is in a messy bun. She turns off the light in her room and gets under her covers. She puts her phone on “do not disturb” and sets it down on a table next to her bed then turns on her side. I hear her quiet sobs. I turn away because it’s all I can do. I sit in the corner of her room listening to her crying. After five minutes or so, she stops so I assume she’s asleep. All of a sudden her room dissolves around me and I’m back in hell. “Here’s what’s about to happen, you get to be in her dreams. In those, she can see you. However, we can easily take this privilege away from you if you mention anything about her dreaming, anything about hell, anything about your death, and/or anything about what you’ve seen her go through, understand,” a demonic voice says to me. “Fine.” At least she can see me. A contract appears in front of me. I read it and it just says the same thing the voice had just told me. A black pen appeared in my hand so I sign the contact. Everything dissolves around me again and I’m at a zoo.

[templeofterrible]

I didn’t ask for any of this. I mean I didn’t ask to be alive. We say that a lot, but if we hold inside our flesh some sort of immortal soul then it has been screaming not to exist since before I was born. Everything I can think of that would prevent this particular lineage, this time, that location happened. Despite that, I came to be.

I know I’m supposed to feel lucky. Instead, I feel like I agree with the forces that tried to keep me from happening. I feel like a single drop of water in a glass already bloated with water. I’ve felt like that since I could understand the concept, and I’ve been tormenting myself about what had to fall out to make place for me.

I look at it like there is a set amount of space, and each person who occupies more space is directly or indirectly taking space from someone else. In a perfect world, we all get the same size box with the same dimensions, but this is not ideal. We have people with acres of space spread across our limited world and some who occupy spaces barely large enough for their bodies to breath.

So I want the smallest space, if one at all. My suicidal ideation stems from that. It doesn’t help that I’m human as well. Just as human as the next person, and I want more space like anyone else does.

I began feeling guilty when I could look back and feel proud that I survived. I learned how to boil water and make noodles when I was 4 in order to eat, and I learned how to steal when I was 5. I learned how to stay hidden and how to hear violent tones of voice when I was 6. I learned people had too much, that they could survive without where I could not when I was 7. I learned that people were capable of killing when I was 8. I learned to stay quiet when I was 9. I learned nobody really cared when I was 10. I learned that none of this was normal when I was 11.

I learned and I acted. I kept myself alive. I just had the drive to stay alive, and I didn’t make friends. I learned that people flocked to you when you were funny. I learned how to be a bully, and the control that gave me in a group. I learned that even adults didn’t pay too closely if you did well enough in school, but not well enough to stand out.

I learned that appearances matter, but I never learned why. I saw people lie to protect the life I lived and I knew to be ashamed of it. It was my secret, and nobody was going to save me. I didn’t even want to be saved. In a weird way, I was happy.

I would go home and I would ask my neighbor for some rice and they would give me a whole bag because they don’t even like rice but their wife bought a whole bag. They didn’t ask, they assumed it was for my mom. She wasn’t home. She hadn’t been home in days. I didn’t bother wondering where she was. She showed up two days and three meals after all this. She didn’t say a word and went to her room. I don’t remember when I saw her after that. I was in our tiny kitchen that sat right next to the door. I sat on a tall bar stool that wobbled a lot and I watched a pot of water grow little bubbles in a circle on the stove. It always took forever to boil water on that stove. She didn’t look at me when she came in. I didn’t expect her to. I watched her from front door to bedroom.

Soon, the water was alive and noisy and I poured in rice that I had to put into drinking cups because the bag was too heavy. The whole bag sat in the living room, where I would sleep sometimes if I didn’t sleep outside.

I liked it outside. At this particular apartment was access to the roof. In hindsight I think I wasn’t supposed to be up there, but it had big metal boxes all over the place, and if I tucked in a really large blanket very carefully, I could even protect myself from the rain up there. The gravel wasn’t too comfortable, but I think I wanted to stay far enough away from my mom when she was home. The city was noisy at all times of the day, but there were tiny moments of silence and stars and just the sound of my breathing.

I was 5. I didn’t feel guilty then. For all I cared, I didn’t exist. A week after this particular moment, I stole a bag of chips from a local convenient store. It was the first time I can remember having chips, and I ate the whole bag. The next time I tried I got caught, and the cashier would always chase me out. I tried other places successfully, but from then I only stole essentials.

I really hate plain white rice. I hate watching water boil. I have grown to just hate cooking in general.

I’m really glib when I tell these stories in person. Haha, its over. I was just a kid. No worries. If I don’t, I know the listener is just suffering through. They don’t want to know, they don’t want to empathize. Why empathize with things that hurt? That is what they feel. They feel hurt... but what do I feel? In hindsight, it hurts. It hurts as a figure of my past that shaped a distaste in my mouth and a space in my head I can’t figure out.

At the time, I was a kid. I had friends and I would stay at their house. Families knew me, but I would wander in a neighborhood just past the block where I lived. I kept that secret, and maybe some of them knew because how smart could I have been? I was tiny and dumb. Clever, maybe, but just so dumb. I would learn that kids whose family had just a little more money than mine were pretty satisfied with thinking I was simply poor and asking no further questions. They would take me along on field trips sometimes, but mostly it was things covered by a church or something they didn’t have to field the expense. Which I understand. Nobody should have stepped out of their way.

Because, and here is where I was just the dumbest, I can’t remember a single time I allowed myself to display I needed help. It was my secret, my shame, and I was fine. I didn’t like pity. I cried when a normal kid cried. I laughed and I played. Nothing was happening at all, and I could dodge questions with the best of them. I was skinny, but I was also white so every family just kinda figured I should look that goofy. If I was alone and looked too young to be alone, I would say my parents were just out of sight but the knew where I was. Adults would remark I was well spoken for a child (I was mimicking their tone and language) and how independent and trustworthy I was (I was lying) and they would move on.

I’m glad I didn’t ask for help. I’m glad I didn’t show I needed anything. When my peers and I got old enough to personally attach themselves to others, I began to see how much space I was still occupying. At first, I felt this sort of arrogance. “Hah, I didn’t need any help. I didn’t need my mom or any friends. I didn’t need parents. Stop crying about your divorced parents”

I guess my imagination took off around that time. I imagined what the loving relationships people have normalized must feel like. I remembered how my friend’s family was around them. I needed more, so I spent more time with friend’s families. I tried to see how much “love” I could get from these people, and I never stopped that attitude of experience since. How much can I get for what I do not know.

I could suddenly empathize with the child of divorced parents. I watched and watched and watched until I understood why anyone else felt pain. I tried to use it to understand what I felt. What I felt was that I wanted to die and I didn’t know why. I was occupying too much space. I grew bigger and needed more things. I was asking for help and I just couldn’t do it anymore I just needed some help WILL SOMEBODY JUST HEAR ME FOR ONCE? I DIDNT ASK FOR HELP FOR YEARS AND I JUST NEED SOME HELP FOR A FEW YEARS OR SOMETHING

and I got the same hesitant hand holding I did when I stayed quiet. I got far more attention than previously though. That took some getting used to.

But you can blame that attention on why I am currently so verbose now.

I said before that I didn’t ask to be alive. I could go on and on like this but I won’t. I am, in fact lucky. I did get help. It wasn’t tons, but I luck out here and there.

People ask why I’m not at least faking ambition. I’m fine where I am. Because I did fine. I shouldn’t be alive anyways. I don’t need much. I’ll give you some of my space, sure. I’m always aggravated because wouldn’t you be in this tiny box? It makes me cranky but really I’m fine. I’m sorry I’m so cranky. Yeah you can have some more space. Haha yeah I do have some weird habits, but yeah its hard to move around in here. No I don’t think you can fit in mine, but you can have some space for yourself if you’d like. Nah, I’m okay. I don’t need anything. If you’ve got something to spare, sure. I mean, don’t throw it out. Yeah I’ll take it. Thanks a lot, man. Hey, this is pretty cool, you have any more? No? Oh okay, over there? Yeah, I’ll see you later. You too. Yeah I’ll see you later as well. Bye.

I want very hard to create. It is the only way I can think of that isn’t just taking from someone else. Unfortunately, I’m just a bit clever. Not too creative.

So... bye. I’ll see you some other time, ya dig? Haha yeah I know, isn’t all this just a bummer? Don’t worry about it, really. I’m fine.