#anyways stan rain
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my time in kindergarten has cursed me with the knowledge that kyle is def the tiny 'erm, actually!' kid in big ass fishbowl glasses who tries to answer questions that i haven't even finished asking yet, is reading books at third grade reading level like 6 y/o megamind, all of which is Great except that little fkn einstein is constantly TRYING ME by attempting to undermine my authority by staging a literal Coup in my class over who should clean up the magnetiles and âstart shitâ aka intense philosophical debates abt BLUEY during Quiet Time.
and conversely, stan is the kid who almost gets hit by a car during pick up trying to pick a fkn ROLLYPOLY out of the gd street, needs to be told 25/8 to stop playing in the planters/stop building complex worm terrariums out of sticks and mud everyday at recess, cries anytime i have to raise my voice above a whisper, is super adhd, gets extremely overstimulated by EVERYTHING, blurts Constantly abt things he did over the weekend and drew a...Very Frightening âmy family portraitâ of his dad yelling, mom crying, sister in devil horns and him frowning...
...In Big, Blue, Lopsided Crayon.
#nina speaks#this is my truth as a kteacher#also i am leading for three days next week please clap#i will be stressed out and crying but i love my kids and my job even if sometimes it is very hard it is the same as writing for me#BUT OKAY I KNOW ITS NOT EVERYONES STYLE#BUT ITS MINE OH MY GODDDD#I FEEL THIS IN MY BLOOD AND MY BONES#i have had both these children in my class#and it is a an absolute joy and it is a nightmare from HELL#the last part is actually a different kid#i did have to...call home about that i was...Concerned#BUT I KNOW THAT KYLE IS TRYING TO ARGUE WITH ME#EVERY FUCKING DAY ABOUT EVERYTHING LIKE#I SAID WHAT I SAID WHAT I SAID SIR#GODDAMN#I KNOW STAN IS LIKE I WANT MY MOM#EVERYDAY AND LIVES IN THE PLANTERS MAKING WORM HABITATS FROM THE RAIN WHICH IS VERY CUTE#BUT YOU ARE COVERED IN DIRT BESTIE#AND KYLE IS CORRECTING MY GRAMMAR AT SIX#AND TRUE TO NCU STYLE LITTLE KYLE WANTS FUCK ALL TO DO WITH LITTLE STAN AND LITTLE STAN#IS HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH HIM AND EVERY KID IN THAT CLASS IS HEAD OVER HELLS IN LOVE WITH STAN#BUT HE DOES NOT GIVE A FUCK HE WANTS THE WEIRD FERAL KNOW IT ALL KID TO NOTICE HIM HELL DO ANYTHIN#anyways...do u understand...also im working on the jk finds out rs is stan ask...we are not ready and i mean it
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Niche Crossover Beam!!!
*rain worldâs your gravity falls*
#gravity falls#rain world#no i will not elaborate#... unless you ask really niceys#or if i feel like it#in order: dipper mabel stan ford soos wendy#the thing about enjoying multiple things is that i want to smoosh the things together even if it doesnât make sense#and i rewatched gravity falls ITS STILL SO GOOD YALL OUGH#so here have some mystery scugs#truthfully i enjoy putting characters in rain world who arenât from there because they pbasically then have to play rain world against thei#against their will#huh i forgot there was a character limit#anyways. take these.
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⨠POWER COUPLE â¨
#I'M SO IN LOVE WITH RAINE'S DESIGN BTW#MY GOD#THEY NAILED THAT#THEM AND ALL OF THE OTHER COVEN HEADS#AND BUMP#WHOEVER THOUGHT OF THE PUPPET IDEA DESERVES THEIR OWN TV SERIES#and if Dana thought of it she deserves a fucking break and a hug#and also a new series because we know what she's capable of#stan dana terrace#anyway back to tagging#toh#toh season 3#toh season 3 promo#for the future#for the future promo#raeda#raeda my beloved#i love them your honor#raine whispers#eda clawthorne
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guys we have a little problem
#stardust speaking !#person who doesnt read sidestories is dearly paying for it right now#BJKADBJKBJKADKABJDBJKDABJKDBAD HHHHHHH ILL READ THEM THEN ILL READ THEEEEMMMMMMMM#the stan & aliza is just 5 chs right....................#BJKADBJKADBJKADBJKADBJKAD THE LAST ONE IS THE TALES OF COLLAB LMFAOOOOO?????????????#was that the one they didnt translate when it happened or am i dreaming....its tiny too i should get thro it#anyway if anyone was interested in gbf anytime from now is an excellent time cuz these tutorial missions gives u a lot of early weapons +#1 character from each element who r fun to use imo (+ water lily is like sooooo helpful)#and then a free katalina/io/rosetta/eugen/rackam/dark ferry which is happy birthday to mainstory<333333#going thro my sidestories while writing this help I PROMISE NEXT HALF-OFF TREASURE IM FINISHING ALL OF THIS UP. maybe.....the issue is that#i always end up doing other stuff during halfoff....and i SHOULD be in the sandbox mines.............#shaking everyone i love granblu fantasy. no rain no rainbow is added to sidestories in the next couple days and its like. one of the best#events to exist. i can give u a reading list depending on what u like in stories (will list the same 3 events for everyone)#IM JOKING but no rain no rainbow & ranger sign bravo IS amongst the most endearing events
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btsâ house of cards is a religious experience
#getting back into kpop has done wonders for my mental health tbh#i can see how it keeps ppl sane#or insane#if i see another protest truck because of an idol dating#u guys are such haters idkkk#like let them live actually be so fr donât be THAT type of delulu#anyway stan bts#and twice omg misamo will kill me#and jihyo sheâs god sent basically immortal#other bts recs??#trivia: seesaw#lie#stigma#singularity#let me know#tomorrow#rain#ughhh insane discography i donât even know what to say#bts#dimple#pied piper#black swan
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anyway is this where i say i ship ford/raine as exes
#libra.txt#rotating stan/eda around again.#accidentally went trawling through the fiddauthor tag here on tumblr#saw ford/lilith which immediately squicked me out#but anyway#ford/raine as a casual fling#and ford realises he just has a thing for nerdy musicians
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My pookie ita (*´âď˝*)
everyone go on fanplus and start getting votes for keita ă.・.:*â
#i will never forgive mnet for not getting keita into the top 9#but i will now be stanning ciipher i have to for keita and hyunbin TT#honestly at least he had a group to go back to#unless rain doesnt let them do a cb IM GONNA BE RIOTING#keita is a short king and he deserves the world#keita terazono#keita boys planet#keita#ciipher#fanart#art#kpop#boys planet#anyways
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I just remembered the jinsoul fish incident of 2017 and I canât stop laughing
#kpop stans really tried to cancel my girl over two fish THAT DIDNT EVEN ACTUALLY SHARE A TANK#people were just saying anything omg#anyways DONT stream singing in the rain the boycott is not over xx#loona#free loona#loona boycott#jinsoul#singing in the rain#kpop#kpop girls#kpop gg#kpop stan
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đŚď¸, đ, and đŠď¸?
đŚ - Whatâs your favourite weather?
hm! i think i would have to say thunderstorm! i dont necessarily want to be caught away from home in one, but i do love the sound of heavy rain and the rumbles and just. its an experience thats incomparable. in the heat of summer i love standing in the garden as the rain comes down, too
đ - Whatâs your favourite season?
autumn for sure!!! i love the way the world changes so visibly in this time, the sound of leaves and the smell of everything after it rains! i also dont cope well with heat so its always refreshing to finally feel like i dont wanna peel my own skin off again
đŠ - If travelling was free, whereâs the first place youâd go?
is it horrifically cheesy to say id go visit my friends? because thats really the gods honest truth. im not so much of a 'i want to go here' 'i want to see this' person (though there are def things i would like to see in my life! its just not something i think about so much. i dont dream of travelling) i think its much more important to me to have the company. sure, id love to do all these incredible once in a lifetime things, but i think i would honestly have just as good/a better time spending time with a friend and seeing the world through their eyes. id love to see your local attractions, or your favourite place as a child, or just. walk around and hear you talk because its your company i really want. i cant think of a single thing i want more right now than to hug my friends on different continents.
Get To Know Me !
#you (generic) but also you (specific) :)#waaaa a bitch is feeling sappy it seems. idk#lifes changed so much for me recently and i am so incredibly grateful for the genuine connections i have formed#for people who treat me like i am valuable#and like. yeah id like to see the full aurora. id like to see all the wonders the world has to offer i suppose.#but whats the point without the company?#nyxtalks#ask#ask game#anyway stan the rain or something
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"i have a feeling [wrio] might be a cop đ"...................???????????? HELPPPPPPPP
#MIGHT BE???????#the logical thought level in this community is at a dangerous low#heiz0u and cyn0 are cops too im sorry to break it to you like this#hmmmm what would you say abt the knights of favonius? like you could make the argument abt k*eya and e*la for example#but would you call someone like. albed0 or sucr0se cops? i guess i just dont know enough abt the structure of the typical police force#anyway THIS is why i love to read comments even if its painful a lot of the time. you get to have a laugh#another legendary one today was someone commenting on a video abt (SPOILER WARNING) neuvi calling for wrio when its raining aka when hes sad#and wrio coming to him with an umbrella and saying 'yeah theyre like a family i love it like neuvi is the dad and wrio is the son đĽ°'#truly the sanest lum1ne stan (based on username and icon) LMAOOOOO
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⊠â§âË âŠăi know you still think about the times we had
synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought youâd stop calling
â word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)
â contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, itâs the cliche trope where the rich guyâs parent forces you to leave him aka gojoâs father is the villain, angst with a happy endingâi donât want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvinâs room (iykyk), cliche rain sceneâthis fic is so cliche iâm sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)
â notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this oneâs for you niku đ¤đ˝ AND DABITEE ANON
you open the door when satoru knocksâjust barely, though. itâs just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things heâs left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. itâs always been happy knocking on your doorâhe never thought heâd dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. itâs like taking the last bite of something sweet when youâre too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and itâs too much even though it used to be so good.
itâs too much being here. itâs too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. itâs too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, itâs good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you donât want him to stay.
âthat should be everything,â you murmur, still looking down. âlet me know if thereâs anything missing.â
satoru would never tell you if thereâs something missing. heâd never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesnât think he could ever take back something he gave youâbeing handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see youâhow else will he see you now?
âno, itâs alright,â he says quietly. he doesnât miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like youâre being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. âyou can uhâŚyou can just keep them. orâŚthrow them out if you donât want them,â he mumbles.
you nod, standing there silently. itâs quiet, and then itâs quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.
âcan iâŚcan i just know why?â he croaks. fuck. heâs not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didnât even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. âwhy are you leaving me?â
your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. âi already told you, satoruââ
âthatâs bullshit,â he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, âyou gave me some bullshit reason.â
satoru has worked so hard to be hereâto be with you. hadnât he done enough? hadnât he told you about himself, things he didnât want to? hadnât he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadnât he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on.Â
why wasnât it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesnât understand.
âsatoru, we werenât gonna work,â you pinch your noseâitâs like youâre the one who doesnât understand why heâs being like this. âthe sooner you accept that the more hurt youâre saving the both of usââ
âwe were working just fine,â he says exasperatedly. itâs like you insist heâs crazy when heâs nothing but sane. like heâs trying to tell you the sky is blue, and youâre refusing to believe itâs anything other than green. itâs clear. itâs practically a fact. you were doing just fineâwhy donât you see that? âwe were happy,â he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, âwas it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, babyâiâll fix it. iâll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you aloneââ
âthen you leave me alone,â you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. âsatorâgojo. please just leave me alone. itâs better that way.â
you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.
gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at thatâitâs a laugh meant for men whoâve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. itâs like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeksâmonths, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkinâhe called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend.Â
not anymore. now heâs back to gojoâthat god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfatherâs legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.
but he had you for a bit, didnât he? when he was just satoruâbut now heâs gojo again, and youâre gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters youâve returned.Â
and satoru still isnât sure what brought the break up on. he thinks itâs the part that stings the mostâwhen everything seems perfect one second, and then itâs not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didnât understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast.Â
heâs not sure. he tried asking when you broke it offâyou only shook your head and said it wasnât going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, werenât they?
satoru doesnât think there was even one second he wasnât smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one pointâhad he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didnât notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?
itâs too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up.Â
you ask him to come over one morning, and he doesâbecause he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you donât go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop youâve ever seen. heâs grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks insteadâhe supposes he shouldâve known it at that moment. he shouldâve seen that your lips werenât smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when youâre nervous. you didnât let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek.Â
and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave himâand satoru didnât understand, still doesnât understand.Â
heâs tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you werenâtâwhen did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?
âââââ
breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing youâve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutesâthatâs what it feels like without satoruâs warmth, anyway.Â
gojo satoru has always smiled as long as heâs been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that.Â
satoru has never looked sad for long in your presenceâyou have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake.Â
but then you remember that this is for the bestâthat if you really love gojo satoru, youâll let him go instead of clipping his wings.
âheâs picked up his things,â you speak quietly into the phone. you donât sniffle even as you desperately need toâitâs the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. âi wonât be seeing him again.â
âgood,â his father speaks, âthatâs good to hear.âÂ
satoruâs father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesnât look at his wife with a soft look that tells you thereâs any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesnât look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunityâwith a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit.Â
satoru is young, but heâs charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wantsâheâs quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. thatâs what his father tells you, anyway. you believe himâsatoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you wonât deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and heâs never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself.Â
you canât rip that away from himânot for your own sake, not for your own happiness.Â
âyou promised you wouldnât freeze his trust funds once i ended things,â you remind him, âand that heâd keep his inheritance.â somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesnât shakeâitâs steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreementâand he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench.Â
âyes, i do recall,â he hums, âiâm glad we could come to agree. you understand, donât you? it is my job as his father to do whatâs best for him.â
you know what heâs sayingâwhat that means. youâre not whatâs best for him. maybe heâs rightâmaybe satoru needs someone whoâs equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone whoâs heard of half the brands he wears and doesnât scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isnât high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru isâand that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him.Â
ââthe offer still stands, should you change your mind. iâm willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.âÂ
your lips curl into a scowl at his words. thatâs the thing about rich people, you thinkâmoney is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you donât leave satoru for extra cash on your handsânothing can be worth auctioning off the only man whoâs ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isnât just a ghost of his fatherâs. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, youâre willing to pick up the scissors yourself.Â
âno thanks,â you hiss, âi donât need the money.â
âi would disagree,â his father sneers, âbut suit yourself.â
the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with?Â
âââ��â
you try to forget your ex-boyfriendâkeyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if heâs posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongingsâyou know heâs noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him.Â
in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitterâyou know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states youâre blocked. but then youâre unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded.Â
it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you canât bring yourself to be mad, not when itâs your fault heâs hurting like this. heâs extra sad today, you gatherâif the way marvinâs room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, heâs effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers heâs pathetically in his feelings.Â
you scroll through suguruâs story, tooâhe didnât unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldnât keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too.Â
suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when youâre swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experienceâthey donât see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, thereâs nothing education could offer that trust funds already donât. but satoru attends college for himselfâhe enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well.Â
thereâs no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, thereâs no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any cornersâyou do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, heâd say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend.Â
everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you canât bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (heâs replaced it more times than heâs needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings.Â
every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. itâs your fault, you thinkâthat satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. heâs always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool waterâwhat feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you shouldâve known this would have never lasted.Â
in a way, you think you did. itâs why you hated him so fiercely at firstâmaybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe thatâs why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wantedâyouâre not so sure you can say the same for yourself.Â
you love gojo satoru. he loves you tooâhe falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamondsâyou think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. itâs just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didnât have to break his heart, you wish you couldâve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, heâll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on.Â
before you can refresh suguruâs page one more time to stalk his story, youâre pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your doorâcorrection: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole.Â
satoru. of course.
heâs soaked to the boneâitâs raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he mustâve rushed here without an umbrella.
you shouldnât open it.
but you canât just leave him in the rain, can you? but heâs not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didnât you? but how could he not be your problem when heâs all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you canât be that cruel can you?
before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, âi know youâre standing there. open the door,â he demands.Â
âsatoru, go home,â you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, âdonât make this anymore difficult than it has to be.â
âif itâs difficult, that means you donât really want to do this,â he argues. heâs still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. âplease,â he croaks, âjust let me in.â
you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldnât, you canât let him know why you did all thisâhow can you protect someone from something if they donât let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and thatâs why you canât let him know.Â
âsatoru, if you donât leaveâŚiâllâŚiâll call the cops,â you warn.Â
âno you wonât,â he says instantly. âiâm not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, iâll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.â
âyouâre not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,â you scoff.Â
the rain doesnât slowâin fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away.Â
âiâll start screaming,â he insists, âyour neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.â
and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned doorâeven though you shouldnât, even though you canât, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because itâs satoru, and he always comes when you call, and youâll always let him in when heâs here.Â
âyou donât come to your exâs house less than one week after the break up,â you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him.Â
âwhy did you leave me?â he asks.Â
âsatoru, you canât keep bringing this upââ
âwhy? just tell me why.â
âi donât have toââ
âtell me why and iâll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,â he insists.Â
and then you break.
youâre only human. youâve lost the man youâve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. youâll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, youâll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and youâll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love.Â
so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. âjust leave, satoru,â you sob, âwhy canât you just leave? why do you keep coming back?â
you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. youâre glad to see him. you hope this isnât the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasnât attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasnât showered in days.Â
âlast month you said i was it for you,â he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blueâthat beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. âlast week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?â
âyou can realize a lot in a monthââ
ânot enough to erase over a year,â his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if heâs angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. âso tell me,â he clenches his jaw, âdid you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that youâre not telling me?â
âi realized you were bad for me,â you say quietly.Â
satoru stares at you. itâs a piercing gazeâhis eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. theyâre tiredâthere are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think youâll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out.Â
âi spent weeks,â his voice shakes, âi waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.â
âsatoru, you need to leaveââ
âand then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,â he glares, sniffling. you donât know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. âand then i begged you for a chanceâbegged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.â
âi didnât ask you toââ
âit took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.â
âsatoru,â you plead.Â
youâve given up on trying to wipe away the tearsâheâs given up on crying altogether. youâve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.
satoru has never gotten tiredânot when heâs fighting for you.
âand then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, andâŚand i thought you loved me too,â he shakes his head.Â
his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.
âi do love you,â you admit it before you realize what youâre saying.Â
âthen why did you fucking leave me?â his voice is loud.
satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like heâll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yellsâbut he does tonight.Â
âbecause i had to,â you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. âor youâd lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldnât let that happen to youânot for me,â you whisper.Â
it feels like defeatâin the end, you couldnât keep satoru, and you couldnât leave him either. you couldnât love him like you wanted, and you couldnât let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass. Â
âso you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?â he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at thatâsomething in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray.Â
satoru gets his blue eyes from his motherâtheyâre bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, theyâre not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his fatherâs eyes are grayâcold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion.Â
you canât help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could.Â
âit wasnât just that,â you shake your head, âthatâs not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?â
âyou could have talked to me before you decided for me,â he hisses, âwhat do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didnât seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?â
âyou know iâd have stayed if i could,â you argue, voice breaking.
âthen why didnât you? why the fuck didnât you?â
âbecause i couldnât!â
âyou could!â he screamsâyou realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. âall my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, donât do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. thatâs all heâs ever fucking doneâmake every choice for me. and nowâŚnow youâre just like him,â he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt.Â
itâs like that for a bitâyou stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you donât know who leans in first, if itâs your hand or his face, but one second youâre feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and youâll always be there for him to find you.Â
âi donât want to leave,â you mumble, âi never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?â
âthen donât leave,â he begs, voice cracking, âi donât want you to. iâll handle that old geezerâmy grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, itâs fine. just donât leave, okay?â
you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. âi donât know if iâm worth homicide, satoru.â
âi think youâre wrong,â he huffs, âyouâre wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.â
âi never said i was perfect,â you pout.
he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightlyâyou cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoruâs arms. youâd melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure itâs always beating.Â
âyouâre still perfect,â he mumbles, âbut youâre always mean to me. this was the worst youâve ever been.â
âiâm sorry,â you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hairâitâs still wet, you realize. heâs soaked, and he could catch a cold but you donât care. satoru is back. heâs here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. âiâll never leave you again.â
âpromise?â
âyeah. as long as you donât block me on twitter again.â
âyou deserved that.â
âand for the love of god, toru, delete that marvinâs room story. that was so dumb.â
âare you stalking me?â he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, âmissed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.â
âwell, obviously not enough to post marvinâs room on my story.â
âyou canât be mean to me after you broke my heart!â he whines.
yeah, you think, satoru is home. heâs still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always wasâand heâs still the only love youâve ever known.Â
âi love you,â you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like youâll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like youâll never see the sun again without him.Â
but thereâs time for thatâlots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.
âi love you too,â he whispers, âwanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.â
read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
if this fic was a person i would want it dead.
#teepods.writings#fics.#rich boy! au#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru angst
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okay .. so iâm about to put out a starter call (even though yes i know i shouldnât with how much i owe but i really need to get muse flowing bc iâve been struggling & i think this will help), but i also realize callie nor raineâs bioâs are up yet. nor is my info for my mcu gwen, so iâm gonna list like the basics here so if people are interested in them they can have the info & yeah -
callie:
was raised by a single mother, but when she turns 19 she discovers her mother is not actually her biological mother & kidnapped her as a baby. after being justifiably upset by this, she leaves home & sets off to find her birth mother. as she does she ends up meeting a man who is significantly older than her - he ⌠grooms her, & the two enter a relationship. when she finally gets to where her birth mother is supposed to be, she finds out she actually passed away a few years ago. the guy is very unsympathetic to her & itâs clear thereâs only one thing on his mind even while sheâs sitting there heartbroken, this kind of opens up her eyes to him & what heâs been doing to her. she leaves him behind & ends up moving in with a girl her age she meets at a cafe. nowadays sheâs living in her own apartment a few down from the girl & making a living for herself with a job with the local newspaper & is lowkey working on autobiography. sheâs kind of guarded, closed off, after everything sheâs been through it feels easier to keep people at a distance. but behind that facade sheâs vulnerable, smart, caring & a fantastic storyteller.
raine:
a girl whoâs very much a happy-go-lucky type, friendly, optimistic, enthusiastic & fun-loving. but ⌠this has kind of made her stand out, most people finding her personality a bit âoff-puttingâ, as it seems like âtoo muchâ. even amongst her own family, her parents scoffing & rolling their eyes at her antics & her older sister making comments about wanting a ânormal sisterâ. she can also be a bit reckless at times, especially with the fact that she actually discovered at a young age she has magical abilities (she tends to keep this a secret though, even from her family). raine appears as though she doesnât care what others think, but words do hurt sometimes. & never having really fit anywhere isnât a great feeling. nowadays though she lives away from her family, trying to find her place in the world & find people who donât turn their noses at her, with a job as a cocktail waitress & a maltipoo called butterfly.
mcu gwen:
basically is in the grade above peter, was blipped. was on peterâs side from the sidelines when the mysterio stuff came out. her father passes away senior year & instead of going away to college ends up staying in nyc to help her mother take care of her brothers & just generally so they could still have each other, etc.
#( ooc )#( mobile )#grooming tw#(raine is such a complete opposite from my oc whoâs fc was sabrina for a very long time & thatâs kind of hilarious to me)#(i love her tho!!! & callie my new girls <3)#(& obvs i love gwen bc if you know me you know how much of a gwen stacy stan i am)#(ANYWAYS hereâs the info iâll have their bios up by tonight hopefully)#(starter call going up in a min)
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Celeste
FallenAngel!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader AU
summary: Heaven is not what they tell you. The celestials donât live in harmony and the devil is not as far as you might think. Heâs vicious in his ways to seduce every being - makes even the mighty fall from grace. And one of them happens to be your guardian angel. When James is banished from the heavens, he is forced to amend his sins on earth. What did he do wrong, you might ask? Well, he fell for the one he watched over.
a/n: I thought Iâve read a FallenAngel!Bucky fic on here before. But I couldnât find it. So please, if you know it, tag me. Anyway, this is my take on the au.
word count: 20.3k (good lord, someone take my computer away)
warnings: this might offend some people (remember this is my fantasy world - I donât know much about angels and the whole shebang), soulmate trope, the devil, also God?, jealousy/envy, mentions of killing and abuse, banishment and punishments, he falls first (literally lmao), fluff and wholesomeness, agony, angst (of course, with happy end!), smut (wingplay, Buckyâs got heavenly dick, Virgin!Bucky, size kink, cum play) !MINORS DNI!
ďžâŤ đđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ ・âシďžâś đđđđ
đđ đđđ â§*シďžđ.đđ ・âシďž
all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)
James.
Wake up, James.
Wake up!
The wind hits his lashes before he opens his eyes. Heâs falling. Heâs falling and thereâs nothing he can do.Â
â â â
Itâs eerie outside, you note as your towel glides over the countertop. The entire window of the diner displays dark clouds. Dark clouds that will soon bring the heavy rain Old Lee has been mumbling about for days now.Â
Not too many people believe what the crazy farmer says but you canât help but notice how much he really understands of the world.Â
Nick hits the little golden bell by the serving hatch and you take the fresh sandwiches to a table by the door.Â
âAnything else I can get you?â
âWeâre good, honey.â
You just nod as your eyes stay focused on the small parking lot outside. You wipe your hands on your apron and return to the counter when the first drop of rain hits the window pane.
â â â
Branches are aching beneath his weight when he crashes through the trees. A deep thud echoes in the woods as his body hits the ground. Itâs raining.Â
Every tragedy needs rain.
â â â
"Are you alright, dear?" Peggy, one of the regulars, a wise old lady, asks and points to your hand that's settled above your chest.Â
You clear your throat. "I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat." You nod with a tight smile. Something seems to have knocked the air out of your lungs. But you've been feeling like you are coming down with something for a few days now.Â
"Must be the weather," Howard comment's next to Peggy, and his newspaper crumbles beneath his touch.Â
You turn and refill their coffee mugs. "Yeah... must be." But you can't shake the feeling it has brought to you.Â
"It's always the weather." Peggy nods before the door to the diner opens and Old Lee enters, his muddy boots dirtying the checkered floors. You scrunch your nose. You'd be the one cleaning that up later, Scott surely won't do it.Â
"This ain't a normal April storm, folks." His hat tips before he sits at the counter in front of you. "You look like youâve been trampled by a cow.â
"It's just the weather," you say and place a cup of hot tea in front of him. That's just Stan: brutally honest and strangely right about everything.Â
â â â
Pain is strange. His feet get caught in the thorned bushes. Golden blood is the only evidence of his path.
And itâs slowly turning black.
â â â
The storm outside intensifies, the rain hammering against the diner's windows with an unrelenting force. Old Lee's words linger in the air, stirring a sense of unease among the patrons. You glance outside, noticing the darkness creeping in as if it's swallowing everything in its path.
A shiver runs down your back as you remember how much Pietro would have loved this storm. Your mind drifts back to the memory of him. He always found solace in the chaos of nature, seeing beauty even in the fiercest storms.
But he's is gone now, lost to you in a way that is irreversible. The ache in your chest intensifies as you try to push away the memories, focusing instead on your tasks at hand.
Stanâs voice is low and gravelly when he murmurs again. "You can't outrun the storm, kid. It's coming for all of us, whether we're ready or not."
His words are chilling, but you shake it off, forcing a smile as you refill his tea.Â
"We'll weather this storm just like we always do." Peggy chimes in as her hand lands on yours with her calming touch. But your heart is hammering in your chest, still. Something feels off. As if a piece fell out of place, waiting to be discovered, and raving to make a mess.Â
â â â
Itâs cold and muddy here, no comfort in sight. But heâll venture on until he reaches you. His soul is pulled to your very presence.Â
He needs to find you. Needs to amend his wrongs. Though is it really wrong to love?
â â â
Itâs dark out when you hang your apron in your locker and wave a short goodbye to Nick. Pulling your coat tightly around you in an attempt to brace yourself for the wind, you step outside into the deluge. The rain lashes against your skin, soaking you to the bone on your walk through deserted streets and cold concrete.Â
You sigh thinking about everyone that made it home dry, probably sitting in their beds right now, watching the rain roll down their window pane with a hot cup of cocoa in hand.Â
But that seems to postpone itself, you realize as you abruptly halt. You look around. This isnât your usual route home. But something pulled you off your intended path and toward an unfamiliar alleyway. Confusion mingles with a strange sense of anticipation as you find yourself drawn deeper into the darkness.Â
Your head is screaming at you. This is dangerous. You shouldnât be doing this. Why are your feet moving anyway?
And then you see it. Or rather... him?
A figure stands at the end of the alley, obscured by shadows and rain, but there's something about him that sets your heart racing.
"Hello?" you call out tentatively, your voice barely audible over the storm. You hate how weak you sound.Â
He steps forward into the dim light, his features illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dark hair and a strong yaw, wide muscular shoulders, his arms are adorned by silver cuffs. His whole being is well over six feet. But he seems even taller as something wide reaches from behind him, almost hugging his shoulders and prodding up towards the sky. He steps forward again and your breath hitches in your throat when you can finally make out the grey feathery wings standing from behind his back.
But you donât run. You donât even stumble back. Your feet are frozen to the ground. Then his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as youâre caught in the intensity of his gaze.Â
âIâve been searching for you,â he says, his voice almost like a whisper to the wind. Calling and marvelous.Â
Everything inside you tells your how absurd this situation is. How fast you should be running anywhere but here right now. But the way your heart races doesnât feel like fear. In fact, youâre not even scared. More fascinated, awestruck, intrigued. You know he wont hurt you.Â
âI donât know you.â You manage to stammer, your eyes still locked with his. The tension overwhelming and electrifying all at once.
âThat should be obvious.â He points to his wings smiling amused, a smile that you know holds a universe of secrets and promises. You want to learn them all, you catch yourself thinking as your eyes slip to his lips.Â
âI donât understand.â
âYou donât need to understand,â he replies and itâs the first time his wings move behind him. âJust trust that we are connected in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.â
âWell?â You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of your chest, relieved your body is able to move again, though the pose feels rather awkward. âWhy are you here?â
He seems shocked for a moment, as if he hadnât expected you to play along so fast. And, to be honest, neither did you... at least a little.Â
âI need to...â His mouth falls shut again and he turns his head down to the side, shoulders heaving. âI guess I need a place to stay.â
âWith me?â Thatâs insane. You know it is. But why does it not surprise you?Â
He nods, you shake your head. âI cant just accommodate a...â You gesture to him and he clears his throat awkwardly.Â
âAngel.â
âRight, of course.â You chuckle as you scan his body again. Only now do you see the torn clothes and bloody feet. Drenched through and through.Â
You sigh. âI donât even know your name...âÂ
His eyes are sparkling, the smallest of twitches making him look a little softer, tangible even. Youâre not afraid of him. And it messes with your head. You should be scared, right? But all there is in your body is the steady tingle pinging from your heart back to your stomach.Â
âItâs James.â His smile is handsome when he reaches out his hands, offering you a better look to his toned arms.
Whywhywhy? âAlright.âÂ
â â â
James looks out of place in your rather small living room. His size dwarves every piece of furniture carefully picked out to make your house a home. He makes it look like a doll house just by standing in it.Â
But he doesnât seem to care. James ducks when he passes through the door and you watch his feathers ruffle as they press themselves to his back in order to fit through.Â
Youâre not sure what to do. Never in your life did you think you would end up in a situation like this. There is no protocol for hosting celestial beings. Though a how to angel dinner party guide would come in handy now. Did he even eat?
Something must be wrong with you. You let a total stranger into your house, even though your track record of people skills is not exactly the best. One that is borderline freakishly tall and has wings. Wings that look soft and beautiful. But strong and kind of intimidating as well. But why does he feel so safe?
âYouâre staring.â James notes and a handsome grin spreads across his face.Â
âIâm not really used to having angels in my house to be honest.â The sarcasm is dripping from your tone in subtle undertones. But James seems to enjoy it. âWhy are you here? On earth... I mean.â
He stares at the ceiling and his wings sag a little. âI have a mission, dearest.â He tells and his eyes meet yours. Theyâre deep blue and stormy - just like the sky. You can see yourself falling lost in them. His presence is all-consuming, making you shiver. It reminds you that the both of you are drenched from the rain. A puddle has formed around your feet and Jamesâs wings guide the water droplets to your hardwood floor in two perfect circles. His hair is curling at the ends, in the nape of his neck and the water is also running down his throat, pooling in the remains of his shirt.Â
âWhat mission?â
âI cannot tell you yet.âÂ
You nod, even though you donât understand. But you donât want to pressure him. âDo you need a shower? Or... clean clothes?â The second you ask you feel stupid. Itâs silly right? Why shouldnât angels shower?Â
Then again, the way he looks at you is one of surprise. âYes, that would be good.âÂ
âGood. Yes.â With a sigh you flee through the hallway to your room in search for some clothes.Â
â â â
A shower. James is giddy. Human things have always excited him. He has been watching from the heavens for eons, never truly experienced them quite like this. But heâs intrigued. Especially when you offer them to him like heâs not an intruder in your life.Â
If things were different, you would never know he even existed. But James is guilty of happiness that he gets to meet you in person.Â
Up close, youâre even more perfect. You smell nice, your home feels cozier than anything heâs ever experienced, and your voice sounds just a sliver more comforting when its directed at him.Â
He is smiling like a fool, standing in your living room - the one he knows by heart but so much more personal now. And when you return to him with a pile of grey cloth, his heart skips a beat. You bring him the familiar warmth that made him fall in the first place. But having you within an armâs length makes all of it feel worth it.Â
There is not an ounce of regret in him for being here.
Electricity shoots up his arm when you touch his hand. Itâs cold and wet - he immediately vows to always keep you warm from now on - makes it his purpose to have you be comfortable for the rest of your life.Â
You lead him to the bathroom, grinning sheepishly when you gesture toward your shower.Â
âIt might be a tight squeeze.â You point at the glass surrounding your bathtub. âBut itâs all I can offer.â
âIt will do just fine.â He reassures you.Â
âI will leave you to it then.â James is confused.
âAre you not staying?â
âSorry?â
âTo help me.â
âHelp you... shower?â There is hesitance in your tone, but James truly doesnât know how to turn the thing on.
âWell, yes.â
âI...â Your eyes are big, staring up at him through surprise and nervousness. âI donât want to intrude. Give you some privacy to- oh.â
His clothes are already on the floor. He knows this much. Shower is something one does naked. But you seem to be shocked when his whole body is revealed to you. Do you like it? James is sure he looks as close to a human as a person with wings can. So why are you still staring at his stomach?
His eyes catch yours as they move a little lower, your eyebrows raising just that much higher and a smirk places itself on his face. So, you do like what you see. He confirms silently. Not that he particularly knows why. He never noticed people by their bodies - only their soul, because that is the important thing - the one that never changes.Â
And yours is the most enchanting of them all.Â
â â â
You watch as James sitâs down on the opposite end of the sofa. Heâs declined every offer you have made for him to feel a little more welcome. But he seems content. His smile hasnât left his lips ever since you led him to the bathroom.
You couldnât help but notice his body when he revealed it all to you. Itâs like every inch of him is carved by the gods. He looks soft in the right parts, strong enough not to be skinny with his height. And his male parts. Well, they look more than satisfactory.Â
You felt like a pervert staring him up and down while he stood there with this kind of proud innocence to him, wondering if he understood how proud he could be of his looks. There is so much you donât know about him. Itâs not like you havenât talked.Â
You have. But he speaks in riddles.Â
âYou are staring again.â James notes and you immediately snap your head elsewhere.Â
âIâm just figuring this situation out, I guess.â
He smiles encouragingly. âYou can ask questions. I imagine youâve been eager to know more.â
You exhale long, taking courage to look him in the eyes. âAnd you will answer all of them honestly?â
âHonestly, yes.â His teeth find his bottom lip and you squeeze your thighs together. âI cannot promise to answer them all.â
âOkay.â
âGood.â
A comfortable silence settles between you as you think of the first thing you could ask him. Maybe you should get the most obvious one out of the way. Maybe you should ask him more about himself, though youâre not sure how personal he can get if he spent his entire life in heaven. You just assume there is too much to do to pursue actual hobbies and such.Â
âIs there a God?â
âStarting with the light questions, I see.â You just look at him with intrigue. Already lining up all the other questions no-one else in this world has the opportunity to have answered. James sighs and then nods. âYes, God exists.â
âDo you know God?â
He hesitates, his eyes fleeting to the end of the room and then back to you. âYes.â
âWhy did that answer take you so long?â
His jaw tenses and his eyes find the floor as if he was cursing himself for offering this situation. But then again, you havenât heard him cuss once. Maybe youâre wrong. âIt was under rather... unfortunate circumstances.âÂ
You nod as if you understand. But you can only imagine. âSo, heâs like the big boss, only getting involved when things escalate?â
James looks caught, his wings draw in closer. After a moment, he clears his throat and his feathers ruffle with a small shake. âFirst of all, itâs she/they. And second, ... I guess you could say that, yes.â
âI knew it.â You grin as the pride washes over you at this information. âWhy did she never correct us?â
âLetâs just say mankind doesnât have a great track record of enforcing things that go against their believe... Not that it would be believable if someone told the story of meeting an angel who told them God is a woman.â
âFair point. That person would have probably been burnt alive.â You nod again, crossing your legs and turning to him on the sofa. James takes a moment to rake his eyes over your body, making you feel tingles all over. You clear your throat. âSpeaking of torture... Why do we have war and world hunger?â
âPlease do not take this the wrong way. Those are issues that very much concern God or anyone that wantâs the best for her people, but sheâs busy. She manages everything else that has gone south since.â
âSince what?â You partly enjoy the way James talks to you as if you are an insider, but you only understand half of what heâs saying.Â
âSince she and Lucifer had a big fallout.â He shrugs, but it just adds to your confusion.
âIâm not following.â
He rolls his eyes as if it were your fault you donât know about this supernatural fight. âThey had a disagreement. Luciferâs response to Godâs proposal was an ill-conceived frivolity which ended up becoming the patriarchy.âÂ
To say youâre stunned is a serious understatement. âYouâre telling me the devil threw a tamper tantrum and thatâs why we have inequality? How did he even do that?â
James shakes his head. â...Yes. The trial is still in progress. But it may be calming to know that we have not figured out exactly how he convinced an entire species of males being the stronger part of it.â
âNo, James. It is not calming to know.â You sigh and watch as he clasps his hands in his lap, his cuffs glistening in the lamplight. God, theyâre big. You immediately scold yourself for thinking this, feeling weirds as the words of your mother echo in your head âDonât you dare use Godâs name in vainâ. âWhat exactly has God done since then?â
The smile returns to his face and you readjust yourself on the sofa. âOh, you wouldnât want to know how this world would look if she hadnât kept busy with sorting it.â
Your nose wrinkles in a frown, as you check the points off in your head. âI really donât think it can get that much worse. Climate change, mass genocides, what else could there be?â You nod at each one just as James lifts up his fingers and opens his mouth as if he is starting to count.Â
But you stop him. âPlease donât.â
âYes, that is probably for the best.â
It is silent for a moment as you try to process all the information you have just attained. It is a rather weird feeling. Knowing you know what no-one else on earth does and not being able to tell. Knowing there will be no-one believing you.Â
You sigh when your head starts spinning from how crazy this day has been. James seems to be rather relaxed considering he barely knows you. His dark hair falls around his face perfectly, the back of it forming a cute curl in the nape of his neck and your fingers itch to touch it.
But you refrain, reminding yourself that he is a stranger - and an angel. Beside the fact that he has not once reached out to you, just randomly touching his hair would probably be the weirdest thing to do right now.Â
âCan I ask you something?â He suddenly breaks the silence and you shoot a thank you to the sky for saving yourself from going down the mental rabbit hole of how soft his hair looks.Â
âYes.â
âWhy did you take me in?â Jamesâs eyes are boring into yours so innocently. If it werenât for the giant wings on his back, he would almost look like a normal clueless and incredibly cute guy. And yet he just revealed outerworldly gossip as if you were discussing the latest celebrity TMZ.Â
âI-â you trail off, thinking about it for a while. You arenât sure how much you can tell him. But James has been genuine from the start. It wold only be fair to do the same. âI felt like you needed me.â
A weird feeling takes over your body suddenly. Like a warm flush rushing through you. James fidgets in your peripheral and nods in understanding. âI did. I do.â
Itâs like the reality of it all hits you like brick when a noise sounds from outside and his wings twitch, pushing over a pile of books on the cupboard behind the sofa. This is not normal, something tells you, and yet your stomach flutters in a way that feels a lot like butterflies. Everything about James is fascinating to you. You constantly fight the urge to reach out and brush your fingertips over every part of him. And for some reason, your mind tries to tell you that he would let you.Â
âWhy are you really here, James?â You voice is only a whisper when the rattling outside subsides. Itâs probably a raccoon or something. But James looks a little nervous all of a sudden.Â
âIâm afraid that is one thing I cannot tell you, love.â
You sigh. âI guess... I just want to help. Having you stay here doesnât feel like itâs enough. There has got to be something you need to do.â
âThat is very kind of you. I admire your bravery and openness.â His lips spread into a smile, his hand lifting from his lap as if he is about to place it on yours, but his fingers only strech and land back on the sofa between you. âBut to be truthful, even if I knew what I had to do, I am not sure wether I would do it or notâ
So he is a little deviant. You smile at the small observation. Maybe itâs the reason he is here in the first place. But you feel like you have asked James enough for tonight. Just on cue, a yawn escapes your lips.Â
âYou should rest. It has been a long day.âÂ
You nod, rubbing your eyes and rising from the soft cushions. âI have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there.â
âThat is fine. I do not sleep.â James shakes his head as he rises with you out of curtesy. With his hands clasped in front of him he looks like a goth painting.Â
âWhat? Never?â
âI am not human, dearest. My body attains energy in different ways.â You shudder again, blaming it on your sleepiness as you rub your arms when another yawn escapes you.Â
âMaybe you can tell me about it tomorrow. I am really tired.â
âI will be watching over you.â Your name passes his lips like a song, sending another shiver through you. What the hell is the matter with you. You huff as you catch yourself again. It really never occurred to you how often you referenced to the supernatural... âTake all the rest you can get.â
âGood night, James.â You nod and wave awkwardly.
âGood night.â
You know Jamesâs eyes are only you until you disappear into the hallway. But you cant help but feel safely watched over with him around.Â
â â â
They will find him, and they will send him further from you than he ever was.
â â â
James hates the days you have to leave for work. He watches you with a sense of longing and resignation, knowing that he must find a way to navigate this separation once again. Though it is necessary he find a way to dodge the inevitable.
Itâs the vexing thing about the celestial kingdom. They always leave one to find the laws on their journey. There is no book he could read on earth that could help him here. But he has seen the repercussions of disobedience, felt the weight of his transgressions bearing down on him like a heavy chain.
And yet, as he watches you prepare to leave for work, a sense of desperation gnaws at him from within. He wants to reach out, to beg you to stay, to keep you safe from whatever dangers may lurk beyond the safety of your home.
But he knows he can't. He's bound by duty, by the laws of God that dictate his every move. And so, with a heavy heart, he watches silently as you gather your things and head out the door, leaving him alone once more.
As the door closes behind you, James is left with nothing but the echoes of your footsteps fading into the distance. He knows he should use this time wisely, to prepare for whatever trials may lie ahead, but his thoughts are consumed by you, by the overwhelming need to protect you at all costs.
â â â
Thereâs and angel in your home. And heâs so freaking attractive, itâs unfair.Â
It has been a week since you found James. And despite the incredibly irrational decisions of yours to invite him into your home, nothing bad has happened to you. Sure, the first night you might have dreamt about him. Heâs everything your fantasy books described an more. And you couldnât help but let that tiny romantic sliver of you hope for the more.Â
But James is more pious than any catholic boarding school kid youâve ever met.Â
He seems to enjoy a good joke and heâs quite confident. But he never once touched you. And while that should not be one of your first concerns, considering heâs a stranger and an angel, something inside you tells you heâs holding back.Â
He never even flinches when you reach out to him. And the longing stares he sends your way make you shiver with anticipation. Yet there is no attempt to ever pull you in - even though you are so sure you were sending signals.Â
Maybe there are no signals in heaven. What are you even saying? Of course there are no signals in heaven. You donât even believe dating exists up there.Â
âYo, whaddup with ya today? Iâve been calling your name for a solid minute.â
âSorry. Feeling a little off today,â you mumble to Nick and retrieve the food waiting in the serving hatch.Â
âYou canât go home. I donât wanna serve alone today.â
âScott, thereâs literally no-one here.â You gesture toward the few people sitting in their booths and sigh. âBesides, I never said I was going home.âÂ
âDonât get mad. You barely texted me back this week. Whatâs so awesome about your home when Iâm not there with you?â You feel the heat rising to your head at Scottâs comment. âYouâd think sheâd call me if she ever needed to hide something.â He mumbles to Nick who just laughs and flips a pancake.Â
You turn to him with your fists by your side. âThe weather is weird and cold, canât I need a little down time?â
âNot from me!â Scott looks baffled. Heâs your friend, and yes, you had other things to worry about than be on your phone this week. But you also knew he wouldnât understand.
âYouâre being a real pain in my ass today, Scotty.â
âGood, so everythingâs back to normal then.â
You throw a towel in his face. âShut up.â
âCut it out, you two, thereâs customers.â
Scott resumes to the back, effectively dodging his work and leaving you to serve the new customer. But your breath hitches in your throat when you look up from the counter.
James is standing in the door, already drawing looks of attention from a few people. Heâs smiling back at them, even waving at a child before his eyes meet yours and your heart sets off again. It seems to always do that when heâs close.Â
You rush toward him, wrapping your fingers around his cuffed wrist and he audibly exhales.Â
âYou canât be here.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause-â you lean in closer and James bows down to get his face to your level. âYouâre and angel.â You mutter under your breath and the sexy smile returns to his perfect lips.Â
âAnd how would they know that?â His eyebrow raises.Â
âYou-â you lean back, examining his shoulders - only then noticing that his wings are not there anymore. âHow?â
âI only show myself to truly important people.â He winks and you stumble back a little, his sudden boldness making your legs feel like jello.Â
âWhat are you doing here?âÂ
James looks around the diner as though he has not planned this far. His eyes swerve to the counter and then back to you. âI want to watch you work. I enjoy spending time with you.â
âBut you canât be here without ordering.â
âThen I will oder.â
âYou donât eat, James. Do you even have money?â
That seems to surprise him. âNo.â You shake your head and look at the tiled floor. Jamesâs wrist is still wrapped in your hand but there is no attempt to hold you. So you drop it. Why did he even come here when he wonât touch you?
âPlease, beautiful. Let me stay.â His eyes are genuine, his lips purse in a plea. All you can think about is how weirdly lucky you are that this Adonis of a being chose you for his quest.Â
You bite your lip and watch him shudder. âAlright. Just sit by the counter and try to be inconspicuous.â
His smile spreads wide. âIâll be as invisible as the air you breathe.â
You exhale and get back to work but unfortunately, his promise doesnât last long. Before you know it, Peggy has chosen the seat right beside James. Sheâs leaning over to him at the counter and Howard just sits beside them with his newspaper in hand - as always. James seems just as invested in the conversation as Peggy and as you steal glances over to the pair of them, insistently hoping he wonât spill about his identity, you catch Jamesâs eyes lingering on you.Â
âYou are a fine young man, James.â Peggy's hand lands on his, tapping it in a grandmotherly manor, though her eyes are glinting with something akin to longing. She whispers something into his ear you cant make out and Jamesâs eyes shoot to yours, his face tinting rouge from one ear to the other.Â
âAnd you are a remarkable lady, Peggy,â he clears his throat, his mind seemingly wandering elsewhere. âYou remind me of a girl a friend of mine was in love with once.â
âThen he must have been the happiest man to ever live.â
Peggyâs hands tremble when she reaches for her cup of tea, her red lipstick taint the white porcelain as James watches her movements with a soft stare. He looks so protective of her, it makes your insides tingle. âHe truly is, though he seems like he has forgotten about it lately. Is this your husband?â He gestures to Howard, who just slams the newspaper down in front of him, blank eyes staring at James while Peggy laughs and waves her hand dismissively.Â
âThis rascal?â She presses her hand to her chest as she tries to calm down. âNo, dear. My husband died a long tome ago.â She smiles warmly, floating in melancholy when she continues, âI never loved another man since. He was a heaven sent. Strong, kind, always worked towards the greater good... and his looks were to die for, too.â She winks and James chuckles.Â
âOh I wish a love like that to everyone. Promise me something, James.âÂ
âAnything.â
âIf your find it, never let it go.â Her hand clasps around his biceps, her tone a motherly sternness laced with affection.Â
James eyes you again and it feels as if the air is shifting with tension. âMy word is in Godâs name, Peggy.â
â â â
James feels the repercussions of his being on earth stronger every day. In heaven, he was miserable because he had to watch you live your life without him. On earth, heâs in agony because he knows, if he ever were to touch you, he would cease to exist.
Itâs slanted. He gave up everything coming here and despite the fact that his wings stopped working the second he fell from the sky, he categorizes the uncertainty eating away at him as even worse. Hanging in limbo is more troubling than actually going to hell, he is sure of it.Â
He watches you move about your house with the same longing look torturing his features since he realized how much he needed you. Itâs laughable how dependent on you he has become. While you go about your life with the minor change of having a roommate, James despises the unforgeable distance heaven has created between you.Â
You are friendly with him - you are friendly with everyone. James would even go as far as to say that you two are friends by now. But he wants so much more. So much more he cant tell you because even if you did know about his feelings, there is nothing either of you could do about it.Â
James sighs standing from the sofa, ducking his head when he passes through the doorway to you. You never questions when he just follows you around. The soul bond probably keeping the curiosity at bay if it feels anything like his experience. It feels good for no explicit reason.Â
You sort some bowls in your cabinet as he stands behind you, offering to place the ones higher up so you donât have to struggle too much. âWhatâs heaven like, James?â You ask innocently through your movements. âAre there pearly gates and fluffy clouds?â
James loves when you say his name. It makes him feel closer to you than ever before. In a way, he equates it with your touch. Just as his saying your name is his way of reaching out to you.Â
âMore like endless paperwork and celestial coffee breaks.â Coffee breaks. He learned about those a while ago and he loves the concept. âBut hey, the views are to die for.â He gets lost in your eyes, remembering how much more distant they felt when he was watching from above and he is thankful to be this close to you now.
You smile smugly, and thats when the heart race sets in again. Heâs sure you feel it too. Because your eyes avert and your hand places itself atop your chest.Â
You think something is wrong with you, he just knows it. Itâs like the time you watched hours on hours of Grayâs Anatomy and then proceeded to research yourself into a frenzy about the sicknesses you might suffer. But James made sure then that there was not even a paper cut compromising you and he will do the same now, too.
He is desperate to tell you what it is you feel, that there is not much you can do and that he feels it ten times worse because he hates to see you suffer. But he needs to be careful about how much he reveals to you.Â
âOh my god, Iâm getting paranoid,â you mutter to yourself and James smirks at your small slip up. He has noticed how you try to minimize your references in curses. Itâs cute, really, because he knows how much you used to do it. Itâs a little bit amusing, the small deviant trait of yours making him feel like he has found something in common with you and heâs almost proud of it.
You collect yourself, quickly, breathing in deeply and then turning around to him. âI have to run some errands today.âÂ
âGreat, where are we going?â James asks with eagerness. Car rides excite him. He has always found them fascinating, but actually being in one is a whole new experience.Â
You bite your lip and for once, James does not feel the familiar tingle in his stomach when you do so. There is sadness sitting in your eyes when you answer him. âActually...â Your tongue darts out to wet your lip just for your teeth to dig into it again and an unfamiliar tightness travels through Jamesâs body. âIt is something I need to do by myself today. I hope that is okay.â
The angel nods vigorously, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. âYes of course. I will leave you to it alone.â He steadies himself on the door frame and then heads to the living room where he grabs a book and settles on your window sill to look occupied.Â
âIt is nothing personal, James.â Your head dips from the doorway and he looks up. âIt's just... it would be weird for you to be there.â
âI understand.â The way he adds your name to his answer makes him sick. But his body is feeling weird, not showing him the familiar signs of jealousy or anger he knows. It feels... warm and uncomfortable.Â
âI will be back soon.â Your voice travels through the hallway and your footsteps along with it. James stares at the empty doorway for a while, his eyes shooting down to the book when you suddenly reappear. âDo you want anything from the store?â
âNo, thank you.â
âOkay.â
And then the door falls shut. But before James can get consumed by his loneliness, he puts the books down - something about an ice breaker - and heads outside to follow you.Â
â â â
But earth can be a lonely place. At least hell will welcome you with warmth.
â â â
You didnât lie. You were at the store. But now that youâre treading on the small path towards the grey cemetery walls, James feels the fear spread through his body like a slow and painful death.Â
Heâs hiding behind the trees closing around the park, watching you as you halt before a simple headstone. He can feel your mourning deep within his heart, tugging, yanking, pulling on the tiny strings that sting so effectively. His temple leans against the rough bark as his eyes trace your slow movements. You place a small bouquet of flowers on the soil before the engraved letters, resting your forehead on the gold stone.Â
He canât see it completely, but he knows youâre crying. You always do. Everything within him screams to reach out to you, to hold you and sway you until the world feels less taunting, but he knows how difficult it could make things.Â
So, instead, he remains hidden, a silent sentinel in the shadows bearing witness to your sorrow from afar. He feels the weight of your tears as if they were his own, each drop a dagger to his soul and a reminder of the distance that separates him from you.Â
And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there is a flicker of something else - resilience, determination, a quiet strength that refuses to be extinguished. Itâs a testament to your spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you both.Â
As you linger before the headstone, lost in your memories and your grief, James feels a surge of admiration swell within him. Despite the pain you carry, you continue to preserve.Â
âItâs really a shame you never have the balls to comfort her.â A voice whispers in his ear and James shoots around to be met with a redhead whose eyes stare daringly up at him. âThen again... I guess it would be kind of ironic, donât you think?âÂ
âWhat are you doing here, Wanda?â All angels are made weary of Luciferâs spawn. They are vicious and manipulating, carrying the pits of hell to places that least expect them and watch it all go up in flames as they stand laughing on the sidelines.Â
James knows the demon standing before him. More than once have their paths crossed throughout time, but he is surprised to see her every time anew. He refuses to show any sign of weakness in her presence, knowing that to do so would only invite further manipulation.
Wanda chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing through the trees. âOh, nothing much,â she muses with a wicked grin, pacing around James to take a closer look at him. âJust though Iâd remind you of what youâre missing out on by playing the good little guardian angel. But who knows... maybe one of these days, youâll finally grow a spine and take what you want.â
James clenches his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Wandaâs relentless provocation. He knows better than to let her under his skin, but the demonâs words cut deep, striking at the heart of his insecurities. He feels the surge of frustration rising within him as his fists clench by his sides, the weight of his silver cuffs pressing against his wrists like chains. âI canât,â he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. âYou know I canâtâ
Wandaâs gaze narrows as her arms cross in front of her chest. âCanât or wonât?â She counters, her voice tingling with an unspoken dare.Â
James hesitates, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I... I don't know," he admits finally. "But it doesn't matter. My duty lies with heaven, with protecting her. I canât do that when Iâm lost in the in-between.â
Wanda's eyes glitter with amusement as she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them with an unnerving grace. "And what if heaven isn't where you belong?" she whispers in a seductive purr as her fingers flick against his cuffs. The sound travels through the trees, making you turn and look around you. "What if your heart longs for something more, something... forbidden?"
A shiver runs down his spine, a sudden realization dawning within James. For so long, he has clung to the safety of his celestial duties, fearing the consequences of straying from the path laid out before him. But now, as he stands face to face with the embodiment of temptation itself again, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heaven is not the place where he can truly flourish.Â
âI donât trust you, Wanda.â He admits genuinely, though the possibility of her words holding truth gnaws on his very soul.
âYou shouldnât.â She smirks devilishly, eyes flashing in a short glimmer of red and evil. âThere will be consequences to disobeying celestial rules. But you will never find out if a life free of them would be more fulfilling to you if you donât try.â She winks, setting uncertainty free within him. âFind me when you have made the right choice.â
As he watches Wanda disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with his thoughts, James knows that he is standing at a crossroadsâone that would determine the course of his destiny for eternity. And though the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril, he can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him, a whisper of possibility that promises a future filled with love, and happiness, and the chance to finally be as close to you as he has always wished for.
â â â
The night has broken over your small town by now. James has made it back with a conflicted heart before you came home from your errands. He knows you notice his silence as he normally enjoys to talk a lot to you. But you donât say anything.Â
He is just sitting quietly in the kitchen as he watches you make a cup of tea, wondering what it tastes like right before frowning at how scared he is to try a cup of hot water just because he doesnât know what it would do to him.Â
Wandaâs words come back to the forefront of his mind and the unease she instilled within his heart right alongside it. He has been longing to reach out to you for so long, has wanted to touch and comfort you in so many ways his mind began to spin. Especially after days like this, when you went to visit your brotherâs grave. You would be crying yourself to sleep tonight. And you would get up tomorrow, wipe the sorrow from your eyes and continue to live your life as if nothing happened. Because you are strong and resilient.Â
And James, even though he is finally present, is not able to offer you the solace you so desperately deserve.Â
At least he thought so.
His eyes wander to the silver cuffs around his arms, feeling the weight and letting the subtle clink of them seep into his skull. He has never questioned why or how the rules of heaven applied to him. He never even thought about the consequences of breaking them until he felt the need to protect you. He never really cared until you became the most important thing in his life.Â
Now, seeing the pain in your gaze, and feeling the guilt for being here, not soothing you gnaws on him, sending him back to a state in which he would kill to see you smile again. Free of fear and sorrow.Â
You bite your lip when you settle on the chair across from his. Your eyes look dull, but James canât help but think there is a question posed within them. Something desperate and restricted. Oh, how he would love to know what youâre trying to say. He is just too inexperienced with human interaction that he can get a read on everything just yet.Â
James feels his heart picking up, knowing it beats in the same rhythm as yours, but he doesnât dare speak, knowing his voice will betray him. Your tea cup is empty, your eyes tired, and he knows that this evening with you will end within seconds.Â
âGood night, James.â You finally say, following the small ritual you have established with him as you wave at him weakly.Â
Normally, he says it back. Normally, he guides you to the bedroom and closes your door promising to watch over you in silence. Normally, he doesnât have a demonâs words ringing in his ears.Â
But today, something feels different. As you gather your things and head towards your bedroom, a sudden surge of determination courses through him. He can't bear the thought of being separated from you, even for a moment longer.
With a sense of reckless abandon, and the words of Wanda hanging in his mind James makes a daring decision. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his every being, he reaches out to you, his touch barely grazing your shoulder as you turn to leave.
In that fleeting moment of contact, something shifts. A spark ignites between you, a connection so powerful and undeniable that it defies explanation. Time seems to slow as you both freeze, caught in the throes of a bond that transcends the boundaries of heaven and earth.
For a heartbeat, everything hangs in the balance, the air crackling with electricity. And then ...nothing happens.Â
There is no rush of wind and light that makes him disappear, leaving behind only the echo of his presence lingering in the empty space between. There is nothing else welcoming him in wrath or absolute nothingness or whatever is supposed to happen if a celestial ever dared to touch a mortal.
He opens his eyes that he had shut tight without noticing. And youâre still here. In front of him, staring at his hand that is softly wrapped around your wrist. His mind is struggling to make sense of what just happened - or rather what didnât. It was all a hoax.Â
James feels rage bubble within him. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet stillness of the room, touching. He counts yet another reason why heaven was never where he belonged.
A single tear rolls down his cheek when he pulls you into his body and wraps his arm around you tightly. His heart beats violently, pumping the anger of knowing how much time he wasted not being close to you through his body. His wings follow close behind, sealing you into his warmth and creating a space just for you and him. Itâs as if you are made for him. Your body tugs perfectly beneath his feathery white wings and he knows heâll hold you like this for eternity.Â
â â â
Heâs touching you.Â
James is touching you. No, actually, heâs consuming you with his whole being, pulling you into the best hug you have ever received. His wings wrap around you protectively, engulfing you into his scent entirely. Itâs earthy, and clean, and... heavenly.Â
You chuckle slightly as your cheek presses to his chest, your head barely reaching his collar bone, but it just makes you feel enclosed by his presence from all around. You heart beats just as rapidly as his and you exhale in content as you realize that youâre not the only one feeling this connection.Â
You donât know what changed. Maybe you are not as good as hiding your sadness as you think you are. Or maybe there is a whole other reason behind this angel guarding you into the most loving hug you have ever experienced. But fact is, you needed it today more than ever.Â
And James knew ...because he strangely knows so much about you. He feels familiar without trying and it is a weirdly comforting thing to experience. Especially after all you have been through.Â
Hesitantly, and almost sorrowfully, you pull away from his warm chest. His wings loosen around you, his arms leaving just enough space for you to lean back and stare into those azure blue eyes of his. Heâs beautiful up close. Long lashes frame his loving stare as his mouth tugs into a smile, taking yours right with it.Â
âYou touched me.â You say in awe as Jamesâs eyebrows slightly raise. âYou thought I didnât notice, but I did.âÂ
There is a steak silence as his gaze travels over your face then roams his arms that are still holding you tightly close to him. âShould I not be touching you?â He asks carefully.
You can feel his hands retreating but you pull him right in before theyâre gone. âI was just wondering when you would.â You snuggle back into his shirt and his hands cradle your head to him. âIs it embarrassing to say Iâve wanted you to do it for a while now?â
âNot embarrassing at all.â His chest rumbles with a chuckle. âIâve wanted to do it even before then. I just didnât know if I could.â The last part is a mere whisper that dissipates in your hair when his mouth presses to it in a feather light brush.Â
A rush of warmth floods through you, filling every corner of your being with a sense of belonging you've never known before. Time seems to stand still, the world falling away until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in each other's arms.
"You've wanted to touch me?" you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them, a confession born of the unspoken longing that has lingered between you for far too long.
James's gaze softens, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of your cheek as he meets your eyes with a look of quiet intensity. "More than you could ever know," he replies. "But I feared the consequences.â
âWhat consequences?â James shakes his head as his thumb still lingers on your skin.Â
âI donât know.â You reach up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you search his eyes again. It was stupid of you to assume he didnât touch you because he didnât like you. He was probably scared of what would happen if angels ever dared. The look in his deep blues tells you how worried he was. How long he withheld for the sake of dodging the unknown.Â
âItâs not bad, is it?â You hand travels across his chest, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. âTouching.âÂ
James's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest as he gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and reverence. And once again, you would love to know what is happening inside his brain.Â
With a trembling hand, James cups your face in his palm, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. You cant help but feel that there is something keeping him from you, still.Â
âLet me stay with you tonight, my beloved.â His fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly. âLet me hold you and keep you safe.â
âSafe from what?â You ask in a trance as your fingers bury in his hair and you play with the thought of pressing your lips to his. But he has taken so long to hug you. You donât want him to be overwhelmed.Â
âAnything.â He whispers back and closes his eyes. A whole new warmth consumes you when his words seep in, blanketing you in cherish and admiration. If this is what being appreciated feels like, you will fight to keep the feeling forever.Â
âOkay.â
â â â
Oh how much the celestials have lied. Flying is nothing compared to this.Â
â â â
As you bustle about the diner, taking orders and refilling coffee mugs with practiced ease, Peggy sits at her usual spot at the counter, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watches you work.
"Something on your mind, Peggy?" you ask with a smile, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of a hungry customer.
Peggy leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I couldn't help but notice that smile of yours, dear," she says with a knowing wink. "It's positively radiant today. Dare I say, it's almost as if you've got a secret?"
You chuckle, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks at her observation. âHmm, I donât know,â you reply coyly, unable to suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of your lips as you tab your finger against them. âWhat makes you think Iâd share it with you?â
âWell, I am a loyal customer for one...â She pauses as she thinks of another point. âAnd I am old enough to think the secret dies with me." Peggy presses, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
âPlease, you know the entire town.â You laugh and Peggy waves her hand dismissively, though there is a proud smirk on her red lips.Â
Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What's all this about smiles and secrets?â
You turn to see Old Lee leaning against the counter with a grim expression. His worn-down straw hat flops over his eyes, making him look even more grumpy than usual.
"It's nothing, Stan," you reply, trying to defuse the tension with a forced smile. "Just some friendly banter."
Old Leeâs eyes narrow slightly. "Friendly banter, huh? You're squawking like a bunch of chickens in a henhouse."
Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Stan's attitude. "Oh, hush up, Stan," she scolds, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "Can't you see we're having a moment here? This is girl talk. Go and drink your tea like the grumpy old man you are.â
Old Lee shakes his head in response but wisely chooses to turn back to his drink. âWe all know how the last time she came in here with a smile that big turned out.â Old Lee grumbles searching your eyes once more. âThe frogs're telling me weâll have another rain cominâ soon. You better be careful, sweetheart.â
You share a conspiratorial look with Peggy, either of you not sure wether to believe him or not. Stan is not one for sappy love stories, but he certainly hits the nail on the head with his predictions every time. His bold hint towards the last big death this town suffered glides off his tongue like a Sunday prayer and it ripples down your spine in ice-cold peaks.Â
âThat is in the past. Right now, I really am hoping we are talking about the charming gentleman I talked to the other week. He certainly is a sight for sore eyes.â Peggyâs eyes sparkle as Old Lee huffs into his cup.
She winks back at you and the smile returns to your lips, along with the giddy feeling you get when James is called into your mind. But before you can respond, the diner door swings open, signaling the arrival of another customer and putting an end to your conversationâfor now, at least.
â â â
A noise calls from the back of your house right before the sun starts its journey in the sky. You donât wake as James tries to stir carefully with his arms still holding you tightly. He was not sleeping - he doesnât need sleep, but he still feels groggy from the warm and comforting night being ripped away with the sound.Â
It piques another time and now, James is sure, someone is trying to get inside. Within minutes he is out of bed, checking the window and then closing the door to your bedroom on his way to the back.Â
He is ready to protect you at all costs, eager to show you how much you mean to him, but when he sees a touch of white beyond the window and hears the familiar rustling of feathers that accompany it, it only takes him a second to realize who has come to intrude your peace.Â
Two men - angels - just as tall has James litter the kitchen once he opens the door and pulls them inside with both hands. Samuel, the one standing a little to the side, brushes his clothes off once he comes to a stand again, watching James with amusement and curiosity. âI see you havenât changed much, James. A simple âhelloâ would have been just fine.â He crosses his arms before his chest, his wings shaking the dowry rain from their feathers and right onto your kitchen floor.Â
âWhy are you here?â His eyes search those of Steven - a friend of his but also an angel ranking higher than James ever will.
âYou know why weâre here.â He steps closer once he has composed himself again. âYou are testing the heavens.âÂ
James huffs, feeling the anger rise inside him. If anything, heaven was testing him. So he goes on to ignore the blonde angel before him, willing his heart to calm at all the frustration accumulating at once. âDid you know it was a lie?â James starts instead. His voice is strained when he thinks of all the times he refrained from touching you just to keep you safe. âJust a way to keep us from initiating contact?âÂ
Steven doesnât say anything and Samuelâs stare meets that of James again. Steven shows little remorse, the pride on display now more than usual. The supposed betrayal James has caused is nothing to the sting boring into his soul by the very man standing in font of him. Steven is cold, distant - when he should be a friend.
âI should have known.â James shakes his head. âYour duties have always placed higher than your friendships.â
âThat is because duties are the most valuable virtue God can give.â Steven finally says and his jaw ticks angrily.Â
James could never imagine being more loyal to a system placing as many restrains as heaven does. Not when he knows how good the real world can feel. How precious it is to smell flowers and hold the one you love in your arms well into the night.Â
âYou came here with a mission, James. And since your fall, you have done nothing but frolic throughout this place with your very own human.â Samuel is eerily still behind the broad blonde spitting one accusation after the other. But James decides not to comment on it just yet.Â
âIt is far more than that,â he rasps feeling the protectiveness flood his body.Â
âWe know. That is why you are here in the first place.âÂ
âWhat am I supposed to do, Steven?â James tries to keep his voice low, but his frustration is too great. Steven should be the one to understand better than anyone else. But he seems to have locked that part of him far away right now. âHow can I amend a sin that is irreversible?!â
âEvery sin can be amen-â Steveâs eyebrows raise and Samuelâs eyes flickers from James and focuse behind him. That is when his heart beat picks up again. And as much as he loves you, he wishes with all his being that you are not standing behind him right now.
âPlease, no.â He mutters and turns just to have you approach from the hallway with tired eyes.Â
âWhat is happening? Who are you?â Your voice sounds sleepy, a hand rubbing over your face before you find yourself by Jamesâs side.
âAngels.â He bites his lips, contemplating for a moment but deciding that you deserve to hear what is happening in your own home. A home he hopes to be part of forever. Besides, with Steven here, there is no ending this conversation without confusing you more. âThey want me to abandon you.â The bitterness is evident in his tone. But he regrets it as soon as he catches the stutter in your heart.
âWhat?â Itâs all you say, but the way you do breaks his collected facade.Â
âJames-â
âWhat do I have to loose, Steven?â his arms open wide. "They already cast me out. They took my freedom, they took it all.â His wings barely shake, just emphasizing his statement.Â
Steve steps closer, causing you to slightly shove yourself behind James, his arm reaching around you, just not touching yet. âBut there is still a chance to redeem yourself.â
âWhat if I donât want it?â James bites back.Â
âDonât act rash, James. Think about this.â
âI have.â Long and hard. Every night he holds you, he has enough time to do so. And he has come to the conclusion that nothing compares to having you this close to him... and only him.
âYou know of the punishment placed for sinners who do not attempt to right their wrongs.â Steven is seething beneath the surface, James can tell. But he tries to stay professional. He can try all he wants. James has already made a decision.Â
âWhat is he talking about?â Your voice takes him back to your presence. Your hands sneak around his forearm and hand, to which his body responds like a reflex. His fingers squeeze yours, his body seeks the heat of yours. Samuel looks at the interaction curiously, Steven settles for a disapproving taunt.
âI lose my wings. I lose heaven.â James explains to you, watching as your eyes open wider in shock.Â
âWhat?â There is so much more behind your astound answer. What does this mean for us?
âJames is banished from the heavens temporarily already.â Stevenâs voice drips with authority, making you stiffen beside him. James hates it. And he doesnât hate much.Â
âWhy?â Youâre too soft for this, too fragile to take another betrayal so soon. He has just gotten started and he already feels you drifting away. Your eyes are glassy when you turn to Steven. âWhat could have possibly been so bad that you ended up here?âÂ
âYou didnât tell her?â Sam breaks his silence. The surprise is written all over his face just to be replaced by confusion when James utters his name in warning.Â
âTell me.â It seems as though his eyes switch between everyone in the room, trying to warn them all of what will happen if they take his opportunity of telling you himself.
âJames is not just any angel.â
âSteve, stop it.âÂ
âHe is your guardian angel.â
It all happens too fast. A look to Samuel tells him there is no ending this. Steven wonât stop until he has tried his all to have you turn from James.Â
âAnd he committed the worst sin of them all.â You look shocked and expectant. The grip on Jamesâs hands grows tighter with every syllable leaving Stevenâs mouth. And James is silently cursing the angel in front of him âHe killed a man... for you.âÂ
You stumble back and James catches you only to earn a warning glare from Steven and Samuel.Â
âBrock,â you whisper and it sounds like the single word has taken the entire air out of your system.
Lighting brightens your house over the stifled morning gleam and thunder sounds dangerously in the distance. Youâre flinching, though searching Jamesâs eyes as he steadies you back on your feet.Â
âYou cant do this forever, James.â
âAnd what if I try?â He turns fully. âWhat if I would rather get myself killed than come back to heaven?â
âHe wouldnâtâ Steve is heaving, but Sam steps forward, Laying a hand on the blondeâs shoulder in an attempt to soothe his rage. âThe soul bond affects her just as it does him.â
âWhat does that mean?â Itâs barely a screech when you interrupt them again. Turning to James and tugging at his shirt, you convey the frustration of being kept in the dark through your features. âWhat does it mean, James?â
He sighs, shaking his head and then closing his eyes - hoping to escape this conversation. But it is happening. âIt means, if I die... you will die, too. A soul need replace that of a guardian one.â
At this point, James questions his sanity. How could he have not realized the twisted ways of the celestial realm sooner? In an attempt to soothe both his aching head and your tired soul, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but your hands swat his arms away.
James recoils as if struck, the sting of rejection shattering his heart into thousands of pieces
âYou might think it wise to revisit what we offered you, James.â
The words hang in the air like a dark omen when Steven and Samuel disappear. With a heavy heart, James turns away from you, unable to bear the weight of your disappointment any longer.
As you walk away, James is torn between the desire to comfort you and the fear of causing you further pain. But when he reaches out to touch you, once more, your tears are a silent testament to the rift that now lies between you.Â
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice choked with emotion. Itâs a desperate attempt to fix this, even if he does not know how.
âGo, James. Please. I need time to understand all this-â
âI can help you.â
â-alone. I want to be alone.â You swallow hard. âLeave, please.â Your tears finally spill and James despises that he is at fault of them.
âGo.â
Feeling more abandoned than ever, James leaves you to your grief, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his soul. In that moment, he realizes that the price of his newfound freedom may be greater than he ever imagined, leaving him trapped in a prison of his own making, forever haunted by the memory of the one he could never save.
He knows there are not many ways to fix this. But he is determined to find the one that will.
â â â
He doesnât remember earth to be quite this cold.Â
Find me when you have made the right choice. The words keep ringing in his head.Â
A little warmth would feel nice now.
â â â
You were angry when you told James to leave. Angry, and hurt, and confused, and shocked, and fucking tired of it all.Â
But now that he is gone, an unfamiliar emptiness has taken its place where your tingles used to be. Everything makes so much sense now. The weirdly familiar feeling. The sense of security around him - a total stranger at the time, who obviously possessed more strength than you could ever imagine. The instant pull from his heart to yours.Â
The quiet of your house seems to close in on you. The walls feel tighter, the rooms emptier. Every corner holds a memory of James, a reminder of the presence that had once filled your life with warmth and mystery. His laugh echoing in the hallway, his silhouette framed in the morning light through the kitchen window, the way he seemed to know when you needed comfort before you even realized it yourself.
You sit at the table, staring at your untouched cup of coffee, replaying moments in your mind. The time he effortlessly carried your groceries when you insisted you could manage alone. The nights he stayed up with you, talking about everything and nothing, his voice soothing and familiar. The way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe.
The days seem endless without him. Simple tasks feel monumental in the absence of his reassuring presence. You find yourself hesitating before making decisions, second-guessing your choices, yearning for the silent support he always provided. The realization hits you: you had built your life around him, around the safety and stability he brought, even without knowing the full truth of who he was.
You cannot deny that a big part of you misses him despite all the lies he told you. Well, not lies entirely. You know he has always been truthful to you ...he just never told the whole truth until he was forced to.
And even though the other two angels who visited made him reveal his secrets to you, you feel like there is so much more to discover still.Â
Your hand settles over your heart, trying to pull the constant racing around James back into existence. But it beats in profound silence, acting as though nothing has happened, when - in fact - everything has changed. James came into your life and unapologetically took your heart away. You donât want it back. You want him back. Heart or not, your souls are connected. And now that he is gone, you know what you have truly been missing all this time.Â
With a sigh, you rise form your chair and grab your keys, determined to find a way to help James out of the trouble he has caused because of you. A shiver runs down your spine at the memories of it all. Jamesâs sin had good intentions, you know this much. But two people died at the time of it - though only one deserves your mourning.Â
You pull your door closed and make your way to town hall. The entire left wing of the building is dedicated to the library and you are destined to find out more about the man who crashed into your life and took your heart away... and then disappeared.Â
The library is quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper the only sounds that break the stillness. You approach the counter, where a librarian is meticulously organizing a stack of book. She looks up as you approach, her kind eyes lighting up with curiosity.Â
âHello, dear,â she says warmly. How can I help you today?â
You hesitate for a moment but then you decide to just start at the beginning. âIâm looking for some texts about angels,â you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. âMore specifically fallen angels... and the consequences of disobeying.â
The librarian raises an eyebrow and a look close to amusement and happiness reaches over her face. âThatâs a rather specific topic,â she muses and your brow begins to sweat. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The woman is still eyeing you with a smolder, but then, as if you pushed a button, she shrugges and begins to type away on her computer. âGood thing itâs my job to get you exactly what you need.â
She nods slowly after a little while. âWe do have some old texts and legends about angels. Let me show you.â With that, she lifts her body out of the office chair behind the desk and leads you to the far end of the library. Itâs a quiet corner where the oldest books are kept. She pulls an ancient-looking leather-bound volume from a high shelf. For the place it has been kept, it is surprisingly dust-free.Â
With a smile, she hands it to you and then wishes you âhappy huntingâ.
The book is heavy in your hands. The front is embossed in golden letters. Your fingers trace over it, feeling every ridge and dip. âLegends of the Divine and Fallenâ, the title reads.Â
When you flip through the pages, the bookâs well-worn smell engulfs you and something inside you shifts. You brother loved old books. The one in your hand brings you right back to when you were kids. Pietro had a whole wall of shelves filled with his favorite stories. And more so than often, you snuck inside when he was out with his friends, grabbing one whose cover intrigued you the most and then getting lost in the pages until he came back and read it to you.Â
He sparked your interest in reading - made you the bookworm you are today. And finally, probably caused you to jump into this adventure with James in hopes of finally living inside on of your fantasy worlds.Â
You eyes get caught by a story in the book, your thumbs halting and fully opening the page as intrigue tingles in your entire body with every word you read.Â
The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel
In the celestial realms, where light and harmony prevail, there existed an angel named Buchariel. Renowned for his loyalty and dedication, Buchariel was also marked by an insatiable curiosity. His yearning to understand the world beyond the heavenly gates set him apart from his brethren, who were content to serve without question.
One fateful day, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Buchariel descended to the mortal realm without divine permission. His eyes beheld the beauty and chaos of humanity, the joys and sorrows that defined their existence. It was in this realm, teeming with life and temptation, that Buchariel's fate took a dark turn.
As Buchariel wandered the earth, a demon of cunning and allure took notice of the angel's presence. This demon, skilled in the art of seduction, approached Buchariel with promises of forbidden knowledge and experiences that no celestial being had ever known. Blinded by his curiosity, Buchariel succumbed to the demon's temptations, engaging in acts that defied the sacred laws of the heavens.
Word of Buchariel's fall reached the celestial realm, and the angels were dispatched to retrieve their wayward brother. They arrived in time to save Buchariel from complete corruption, pulling him from the demon's grasp and returning him to the realm of light. However, the consequences of his actions could not be undone.
The celestial court declared Buchariel's punishment. He was stripped of his rank and given an ultimatum: he could return to heaven only if he vowed never to betray the divine will again. God, in His infinite mercy, offered Buchariel a chance at redemption. He was to serve as a guardian angel, watching over humanity and guiding them towards righteousness. In this duty, he could be close to the world, yet stay obedient to heaven.Â
Buchariel accepted his fate, grateful for the opportunity to make amends. Yet, the legend speaks of the angel's perpetual struggle. Constantly exposed to the allure of the mortal world, Buchariel walked a fine line between duty and desire. His heart, once pure and untainted, now carried the scars of his past transgressions.
Eons passed, and Buchariel's vigilance never wavered, but neither did the temptations. His soul remained in perpetual conflict, torn between his heavenly duty and the memories of earthly sensations. The legend warns that Buchariel's fall could occur once more, for the battle within him is eternal. He is an angel forever on the edge of sin, a guardian who knows the weight of temptation, and a being who understands the cost of free will.
Thus, the tale of Buchariel serves as both a caution and a beacon. It reminds all who hear it of the delicate balance between obedience and desire, and the endless journey towards redemption that even the most divine must undertake.
A chill runs down your spine as you realize the parallels between the legend and James. The delicate balance between obedience and desire - serving and sinning. James did sin again. When he killed the man who ended your brotherâs life.Â
You sit in silence, the weight of your realization settling over you like a shroud. Itâs clear that Jameâs story resembles that of Buchariel in too many ways to be a coincidence. He was weirdly comfortable on earth, now that you think about it. For Christ's sake he even told you he had met God âunder rather unfortunate circumstancesâ. If what the legend says is true, unfortunate is the understatement of the century. Now you cant help but wonder what price he might pay for his defiance.
â â â
The diner hums with its usual activity, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations fill the air. You move mechanically from table to table, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, but your mind is elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of James and the emptiness his absence has left behind.
Peggy, sitting at her usual spot at the counter, watches you with concern etched on her face. She waits until you pass by her with the coffee pot before speaking up.
"What's happened to that smile of yours, dear?" Peggy asks, her voice soft and maternal. "You used to light up this place."
You force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Just tired, Peggy. You know how it is."
Peggy's eyes narrow, not buying your excuse for a second. "Tired, my foot. Something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."
Before you can respond, Scott chimes in with a smirk. "At least now I know youâre back to normal," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you were gonna float away with all that grinning you were doing."
You shoot Scott a glare, feeling a mix of irritation and sadness. "Thanks, Scott. Really helpful."
âAlways at your serviceâ He tips his nonexistent hat, almost bringing a chuckle up within you. In his own way, he never faisl to cheer you up a little.
Peggy waves a dismissive hand at Scott and turns her full attention back to you. "Don't mind him, honey.â She leans in closer, her expression softening. "But seriously, what's going on? I haven't seen you this down in a while."
You sigh, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It's complicated, Peggy. Someone important to me... well, they're not around anymore. And it's just... hard."
Peggy reaches out and pats your hand gently. âWe all miss Pietro, dear. Losing someone is never easy... especially after all youâve been through.â
You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the ache in your chest remains. You can't bring yourself to tell her itâs not your brother you are mourning at this time. "I appreciate that."
The hustle and bustle of the diner continues around you, but for a brief moment, you feel a small measure of comfort in Peggy's concern.
As you turn to refill another customer's coffee, Peggy's words linger in your mind. Maybe opening up a bit more wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, sharing the burden could help ease the pain of James's absence, even if only a little. But who should you talk to? The only person you were every really close with is gone...
â â â
Yet another day passes in which you worry yourself tired. The house feels emptier than ever, the silence pressing in on you as you move through the rooms like a ghost. You try to distract yourself with chores and routines, but your thoughts always circle back to James. Wondering if heâs safe or thinking about you.
You sink into the worn armchair by the window, your favorite spot to watch the world outside. But tonight, the familiar view brings no comfort. The sky is a dark canvas, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the loneliness wrap around you like a suffocating blanket as Old Leeâs words echo in your mind once again.Â
A quiet sob calls into the empty room - barely audible. And then the tears start falling down your face in constant streams. The memory of his touch, his warmth, his presence, feels like a distant dream. You close your eyes, trying to recall the feeling of James's arms around you, the sound of his heartbeat against yours. It's a comfort and a torment all at once.
You havenât cried like this since Pietro died... No, actually, you did when the message of Brockâs death reached you. But those were tears of relief rather than pain.Â
A sudden chill sweeps through the room, at the memory of the man who tormented your life in more ways than one. You open your eyes, frowning as you notice that itâs not only the thought of Brock making you feel this way. The air seems to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you feel a strange pull, a familiar yet eerie sensation that makes your heart race.
You stand up slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. The room feels alive with a palpable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is shifting. You turn around, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
And then you see him.
â â â
James stands before you, his presence both startling and comforting, he notes as your herts sync again. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. You look as if you've been through a storm, yet there is a resolute strength in your gaze that anchors him. He probably doesnât look much better, considering he in fact has been in said storm. But heâd do anything to come back to you.Â
"James," you breathe, your voice trembling with emotion. "You're here.â
He steps forward, closing the distance between you. "Iâm here," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and unshared moments.
You reach out, your hand trembling as it touches his cheek, as if verifying that he is real and not another figment of your imagination. Your skin is cold and the sensation sends a flood of emotions through him.
"Where have you been?" you ask, your voice cracking with the weight of your worry.
âIt is a long story," he replies, his hand covering yours. "But right now, all that matters is that I'm here. With you.â
In that moment, the world outside fades away, and all that exists is the space between you and James. The silence is filled with unspoken promises and the electric charge of a reunion long overdue.Â
When you fall into his arms crying, his knees feel like giving out. He has had a long journey behind him, but he would die before showing you weakness when you need him the most. âI thought I would never see you again!â You cry even harder and James wraps his arms around you with loving pressure.
âIâm here,â he tries to soothe you. His wings come around you once again in search for the calmness that washes over him when he realizes you feel safe.Â
âI donât think I can do without you anymore.â Your voice is muffled against his chest but his heart leaps at your confession. Warmth spreads throughout his body as the realization hits that you finally feel close to the emotions he has harbored for you for so long.Â
James wants to promise you that heâll never leave again. He wants to tell you that there is nothing worth losing you. Not the most tempting offer to ever exist. He wants to hold you forever, in fact, do more than just hold you and give into the feeling he has only ever heard about from demons and sinners.Â
But he canât. Because he knows it would not be true.Â
His feud with heaven is far from over. And the journey he plans to venture holds great unknown. So, he settles for the one thing he can tell you with certainty.Â
âI cannot be without you, either, my beloved. There is so much I want to experience with you but the most important of them all is love. I love you, with my entire soul and heart. I cannot deny you this truth any longer. I have done the unspeakable because of it and you deserve to know.â
You eyes look up at him widely, a question in them that has waited long enough to be asked. âBrockâs death wasnât an accident,â you whisper, but your posture remains steady. There is no pain or sorrow in your face. Just pure, plain curiosity.
âThey told me he was mugged and thrown in the river. But it never made sense to me.â You pull a little out of his touch and James lets you even though his entire body screams to keep you close. âThis town is too small to be mugged in. He was killed with a single stab to his heart. A mugger would never be so efficient.â
You gleam at him, seemingly waiting for him to confirm. But James stands in your presence with a sense of pride. He does not regret is transgression, not when it meant keeping you safe - which was and still is his greatest aim.Â
âThe way he was found was too peaceful to be from a robbery, either.â You tell him shaking your head. âHow can you make a murder look so respectful and honest?âÂ
âI am sorry if I have upset you, dearest-â
âYou havenât. Brock Rumlow was a bad man. It took me a long time to notice, but he was abusing and ill-driven. If anything, I am upset I couldnât thank you sooner that he is gone.â
âI had played with the though of removing him from the face of the earth for quite some time,â James confesses, feeling all the secretâs weight rolling off him like avalanches. âFrom the moment he first screamed at you... to the time he laid his hands on you. But I knew you were strong. I was so proud of you for getting up each day and moving on. I would have never acted had he not hurt you in a way even i could feel throught the very bond that ties our souls together. I knew you could handle the hurtful words, even the hurtful touches - that no-one, and especially not you, deserves. Your brother is of similar cunning as myself. But he was brave enough to act while I was fearing the consequences of testing celestial rule once more.âÂ
James catches the new tears rushing down your cheeks. But he wont stop telling you. He knows you need to hear it. It hurts him to revisit the memory of watching Pietro die in his quest to secure your freedom. âI was trying to honor you brother as much as ensure your safety when I... killed Brock.â He clears his throat and takes your hands in his. âHe would have continued to hurt every person he encountered. I do not regret what I did.â
âOh, James.â Your hands reach up to his face. James bows down to follow the tug you apply to his jaw. âThank you for telling me. I am not angry. And despite what the other angels said, I know you are a good person. I love you, too.âÂ
You smile as Jamesâs hands cover yours on his face. Your foreheads are touching and the room around you fades into nothingness. In this moment in time, there are just you and him, and all the new feeling bubbling inside him that he his eager to explore.Â
Heâs known it for long, but now he is certain than going back to heaven was never an option. Not when you are still here.Â
âI would love to kiss you right now,â you whisper in the space between you, igniting a heat within James he has never felt before.
âI would like that very much,â he confesses and as soon as the words leave his lips, yours are firmly pressed against his.Â
The sensation is overwhelming. Your lips are soft and warm, moving against his in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hands still press yours to his skin, unsure what to do and overwhelmed with the experience opened to him. You gently take them and move then to your waist, then a little lower, making him trace the curve of your body as your tongue slowly slips between his lips. The contact sends a surge of electricity through him, making his heart race.
The kiss is tentative at first, each of you exploring this new and wondrous connection. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as if afraid he might vanish with this daring protest against heaven. He can feel the gentle tremor in your touch, the same mixture of awe and desire that he feels within himself.
You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. Your breath mingles with his, cheeks heated and lips swollen. âMove your hands, James,â you whisper, guiding his hands to slide even lower on your body, teaching him how to hold you close, even though he thought he has always done so right. This is different. This is more.
He follows your lead, fingers trembling with the intensity of the moment as they squeeze flesh, eliciting a soft whimper from you that makes Jamesâs insides stir. Or maybe it is not his insides after all, he notices when his pants feel tighter all of a sudden.Â
Each brush of your lips against his, each caress, speaks of the longing and love that has been building between you for so long. James deepens the kiss, more confident now, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and itâs as if the world outside has ceased to exist.
Your thumb brushes over his cheek, and you smile, voice breathless. âYouâre doing great.â
The kiss becomes more fervent, your guidance helping James navigate this new territory. He feels like heâs pouring all his love and devotion into this one act, wanting to convey everything heâs never been able to say. His wings reach round you tentatively, leaving enough air for you to breathe. He wantâs to be wrapped up in you more - he cannot explain it.
James pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. âThis... this is incredible,â he murmurs in a voice husky with wonder. âIâve never felt anything like this before.â
You smile, eyes sparkling. âNeither have I.â
Your lips find each other again, more urgent this time, as if youâre making up for lost time - at least James is. The demon who lured him down the first time failed to mention this part of humanity to him.
âI want to show you more,â you finally whisper against his skin and at this point, James is willing to walk the sun if you asked him to.Â
âEverything,â he rasps, his lips touching you with every syllable. He cannot get enough of your taste. âShow it all to me, my love.â
âI want to start with taking off our clothes.â You kiss him again, making Jameâs pants feel even tighter. He knows about sex and he knows it is what you are hinting at. But he has never experienced it. It is no use to angels, since they cannot impregnate another. In heaven, it is rarely talked about - and if it is, one is warned about it.Â
Right now, James does not care why. He is eager to experience as much as there is on earth with you and then some. So, he lets you guide his hands over your shoulders, shrugging your cardigan off your body and letting his fingers glide beneath the thin straps adorning your shoulders now.Â
His hands are so big compared to yours. He marvels in the fact of how much stronger he is, making him able to protect you that much better.Â
James has no difficulty guiding the clothes from your body. Nakedness is something barely acknowledged where he comes from. But today... something about it feels different. This situation feels so much more intimate than it usually does. And he notices, when you kneel down to pull his pants down, his cock stands proud from his body, bigger than usual, and hard and- âOh!â sensitive, he notes when your lips kiss his hip, your face slightly grazing his member in the action.Â
With your head next to it, it looks disproportionately huge, but you donât seem to mind.Â
âThis... I have never done this before.â Jamesâs hands guide you back up to him. He is certain his cheeks are glowing red by now. He feels hot and bothered, yet so yearning for more of the teasing your face provided for mere seconds before.Â
âAre you okay with continuing?â Your eyes find his again.Â
âYes.â
âOkay, good.â And when he nods, you take his hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom.Â
He has missed this place, missed holding you for the time he went away, but he can't tell you where he has been just yet. Not now, anyway. Right now, he wants to experience whatever you are willing to show him.Â
You walk around him, touching him all over, watching him react and making him lean down only to pull back before his lips can get a taste of yours again. Itâs beautiful agony and James is torn between pulling you into his strong grip and letting you wind him up until his balls feel like they are the ones squeezed tightly. They already are...
Eventually, you come to a stop behind him. He jolts when you fingers drive over the top of his wings, only for you to mumble a quick âsorryâ and coming back around in front of him.Â
âDonât be sorry. I was just not expecting it.â
You stare past him and at the white feathers protruding from his back. âThey are so soft... and pretty.â You find his eyes. âAll of you is pretty.â
He reaches for your face, finding pride in the way you nestle into his palm with a smile. âAnd dear, you are the most beautiful being the world has ever seen.â
âCan I touch them again?â You whisper only for James to now stare in awe.Â
He watches as your hands pass his body in slow-motion. They travel past his ribs and reach carefully towards his wings again. This time, he is prepared, though his stomach feels tight with something opposite of worry. More of a physical feeling he can't begin to explain. He closes his eyes and lets your touch travel over them like a prayer. Your path leaves shivers in its wake and James lets his head hang, reveling in the feeling. He opens his eyes and watches his cock twitch whenever the tingles get too much.Â
He gasps breathlessly when you graze the underside of his wings, making his whole body jump slightly.Â
âOh, are those sensitive?â You smile in awe, though your expression turns to excitement when he wheezes out his answer.Â
âVery.â
âDo you like it?âÂ
Your fingers glide over the same spot again, making his cock leak, feeling like heâs about to explode. âYes!â He grabs the sideboard next to him.
âI want to make you feel good, Jamesâ your voice is damp agains this ear and he bites his tongue before bursting.Â
âYou already do.âÂ
âI want to make it even better.â
James is not sure he can handle better. Heâs already floating miles above the ground when you touch him in the ways you do. Maybe he has to distract himself to enjoy this some more.Â
He could think about why heaven would withhold education of how amazing sex can be. That will make him calm a little, posting yet another reason why it was never the place to be for him.Â
Your hands wrap around his silver wrists as you guide him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders until he is sat on the mattress, looking up at you with intrigue and awe.Â
âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm going to ride you, James.â You straddle his lap and his arms immediately reach around you.Â
âRide ...me? Iâm not a horse.â He states and watches as your smile lights up. But it settles a weary feeling in his stomach. There is a hint of mischief in your glint, and James is not sure he can handle it right now.Â
âDo you trust me?â
âWith my entire soul.â
You kiss him and push at his chest. âThe lie back for me.â
And so he does, realizing - once again - that anything heaven could offer him pales in comparison to the love he feels for you, a love that knows no bounds or logic and that is reciprocated in your every touch.Â
James watches as you scoot up his body until you are sat right behind his cock, which has not ceased to soften one bit since you kissed. It reaches all the way to your navel. But before he can take in the sight and calculate the size difference between you, you press him against your stomach, pulling another moan from his lunges.Â
His tip is leaking more and more with every touch you gift him and James starts to worry his body will give out before he can make you feel good.Â
âYouâre so big, so pretty.â You stroke him from base to top, letting your thumb press into the underside of his cock and send shiver after shiver through Jamesâs body. âI need you inside me.â
âI need that to.â His voice is strangled when you lift up and grind his tip through your wet folds, moaning with the friction he can only assume is the same for you as it is for him.Â
In a swift motion, the head of his cock sinks inside you, breaching tight muscle and making him feel dizzy with the new sensation. Your head falls back with a loud breath that makes his abs tighten. This whole time, he feels as though a gust of wind could make him unravel, but something inside him tells James he should hold out - or at least try to.Â
The raspy sounds escaping his throat cant seem to stop when you slowly work yourself all the way down his shaft. And the high-pitched scream you set free when his tip reaches another barrier within you makes him twitch and leak even more.Â
âAre you alright?â He asks through sweaty brows.Â
âIâm amazing.â You smile and lift yourself up only to sink back down into his lap. Your movements become steady, and when he finally gets over the way your mouth hangs slack, the rhythm you set builds even more pressure inside him.Â
The room is filled with messy sounds of skin and sweat and moans and heavy breaths. You sink down on him again and again until James feels like he is on fire. But you donât relent. Your pace never falters when you fall back and your hands grip his thighs, digging into his muscles until his toes curl.Â
Itâs too much at once and not enough at the same time. James feels as though there is a cliff he could fall over every second now, but heâs too scared to loose the sensations he is experiencing right now to let his body do so.Â
âTouch me,â you suddenly say, taking his hands which have fisted inside your duvet until now and placing them on the soft flesh of your breasts. Only now, your nipples are hardened when you guide his fingers over them. âLike this.â Youâre somehow fare gone and right there with him. But he does as he his told again, flicking his thumb over the pebbled flesh until your moans grow higher and higher. âAh, Yes!â
Itâs doing something to him, he his twitching every time your pussy squeezes him in tandem with his thumb on your nipples. His body is moving without the permission of his mind when he suddenly thrusts up. And then again. And again. Until you are mewling and crying on top of him, your fingernails digging into his legs painfully hard.Â
James immediately drops his hands only to watch you stare at him with wide eyes.Â
âWhatâs the matter. Why did you stop?â
He bites his lips in shame when he realizes he misses your constant movement on his cock. âAm I hurting you?â
You eyes possibly widen further. Leaning forward and capturing his cheeks with both lips and hands, you shake your head after you pull away. âNo! No, its a good thing, love. You feel so good. You...â Your expression changes to a rather shy one. âYouâre just very big. You should be proud.â
Something inside James clicks as you confess with another kiss to his lips. A smirk spreads beneath them when he curiously thrusts up inside you and experiences your hot breath gains his face.Â
In a second, his hands grab onto your hips, his body turns and flips the pair of you until your back hits the mattress as gently as he can offer in his compromised position.Â
A last look of reassurance when your eyes lock with his set off the urges he has suppressed so far. His hips snap forward over and over again, your pussy tightening more around him with every push. Your hands are fist into the covers, head thrown back and mouth open. There is no more sound coming from you at this point. And James understands why. He is as overwhelmed with the feeling as you look. When you grow even tighter, gripping this cock until he cannot move anymore, white pleasure as hot as hellfire rushes through his body, kissing his nerves from head to toe. He feels his balls empty as he paints your inside with his spent, only being able to lazily rut into you after a minute to seize every last drop of pleasure this moment has to offer.Â
Then he falls forward as if a higher force has taken all the strength from his body, though careful not to hurt you when his weight settles on top of you.Â
âWhat-â he needs to catch his breath first. âWhat was that?â
âThat,â you open your eyes, chest having with every deep breath, âwas an orgasm.â Your hands brush through his hair and James finds himself purring at the touch. âAnd it was the best one Iâve ever had.âÂ
You kiss him and chuckle when he looks at you questioningly. âI guess you could say it was outer-worldly... or even heavenly.âÂ
James rolls his eyes but canât stop the laugh from slipping his lunges. He pulls back and watches as his softened cock leaves your pussy, only to be followed by your mixed arousal dripping out of you.Â
Trance-like, his hand moves to collect the fluid and begins to smear it over your petals, up into the soft tuft above it. He knows angels cannot impregnate other beings, but he is fascinated by the scene in front of him. Itâs like a little testimony when he marks you all around the best place he has ever experienced, wordlessly rubbing and enjoying the whimpering sounds you make when he flicks over a particular spot.Â
âIs this sensitive?â He teases with a smirk only to be met with a playful smack on his arm.Â
âVery.â you say. âBut I am entirely satisfied as of right now.â
James sighs and falls into the sheets beside you. âMe too.â He nuzzles into your neck and pulls you closer to his body. He does not care that you are sticky with sweat or that neither of you are cleaned up. He just needs to hold you now that reality has taken its place back around him again.Â
âSo, you have been watching over me for - what? All my life?â
James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly.Â
âAll your life, yes.â
âAnd have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?â
âDo you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?â
Itâs silent for a moment, but your movements donât falter. âI always thought that was a weird coincidence.â
James smiles into the crook of your neck. âConsider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.â
You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. âI like you like this.â You smile.
âLike what?â Heâs smiling as well.â
âLess angel, more...â Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. â...deviant.â
The smile on Jamesâs face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back.Â
He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.
â â â
James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. Heâs out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night.Â
The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesnât bother him; itâs a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness heâs found with you.Â
As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments youâve sharedâthe way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete.Â
James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.
But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.
âAre you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.â You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside.Â
But Jamesâs stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda.Â
âWhat is going on?â You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense youâre eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him.Â
âWho is that?â you whisper into Jamesâs shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now.Â
When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch.Â
âYou promised me time to explore the likes of this life.â His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little.Â
âAnd explored you have,â her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. âTell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?â
The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devilâs spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract.Â
âYou know it is,â he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already.Â
âActually, I donât. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.â Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. âOh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.â
The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He needâs to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire.Â
âJust give me a moment, Wanda,â James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.
âWhat is happening? What does she want?â There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for.Â
James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.
âIâm not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,â you mutter with unease, and James kisses youâshort and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.
Then he whispers against your lips, âPlease, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?â His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.
But the feeling doesnât last long.
âJames has made a deal with the devil,â Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.
Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level.Â
âWhat does she mean, James?â
â â â
Jamesâs silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know itâs not.
âJames.â Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. âWhat is she talking about?â
âIt is true,â James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. âI have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.â
âWhat?â The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. âWhy are you doing this?â you ask through your tears.
âBecause Iâd give up heaven if it meant being with you.â Jamesâs eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. âIâd go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. Youâre everything to me. Everything.â
Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. âYou canât do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.â
âAnd there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.â He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuckâs sake. âI would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.â
âJames, think about this.â Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic.Â
âI have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.â
You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. âYou have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothingânothingâI wouldnât do to be with you.â
Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin.Â
Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. âSo youâre just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?â
You donât know much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn.Â
âThen it was worth it.â There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jameâs stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though yourâs seems to do the opposite.Â
âNo.â You say breathlessly.Â
âIâm sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.
âJames.â
âI love you.â
âJames.â
The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. Heâs gone. Heâs gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.
â â â
And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy⌠and rain.
â â â
Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely.Â
James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what youâve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him.Â
A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore youâd never let anyone this close to you. Itâs the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back.Â
You heart cannot take another hit. Itâs constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really.Â
You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.
You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.
âNew customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,â Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen.Â
You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray.Â
âIâd like a sandwich, please.â A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.
It canât be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy.Â
But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you donât dare to turn around.Â
âAre you not going to look at me, dearest?â
Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if itâs real? What if itâs not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. Youâve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.
âJames...â The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.
You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.
Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it.Â
âIs it really you?â You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. Itâs real.Â
âIn the ...flesh.â he frowns but then smiles widely.Â
âWhat happened when you were gone?â Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist.Â
âNot here, love. Take me home... if youâll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.â
You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, youâve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect.Â
âI will always choose you over anything else, James.â You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back.Â
The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth.Â
âBut tell me one thing,â you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice.Â
âI will tell you anything,â he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close.Â
âAre you... did the-â youâre not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say.Â
He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. âYes,â he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. âI did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.â
His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In Jamesâs arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else.Â
âI canât begin to tell you how much it means to me.â You smile back between kisses.
James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. âWe have a lifetime to show each other.â
And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit.Â
â â â
Because at last, thereâs noting more freeing than falling itself.
𫵠You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer đ
Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...
Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg đ
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Stuck in the Moment
Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.
A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.
A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.
You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"
"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.
You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.
You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."
You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."
"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.
You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."
"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.
The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."
"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.
You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."
The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"
"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."
"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."
You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"
The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.
You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"
The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."
"Great."
Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"
"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."
"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."
"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"
"I think we're in-between three and four."
"Oh good, you're not alone!"
"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."
"Bucky."
"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"
He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."
"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."
"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."
"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"
You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.
"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"
He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."
"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"
Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."
______________________________
Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.
You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.
"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.
"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."
Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."
You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."
You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.
Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."
"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."
He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.
But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"
"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.
"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"
He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"
"Yikes."
"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."
You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."
Bucky laughs, "Same here."
"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.
"Dad?!"
"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"
"We're okay!"
"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"
"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.
______________________
The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.
When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.
"Holy shit, are you okay?!"
"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.
Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"
"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."
He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."
Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."
He sheepishly waves, "Hi."
"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.
You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."
He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."
"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."
"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."
You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."
"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.
"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."
"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"
"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"
You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"
_____________________
Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.
The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.
Youâre answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:
JB: Youâre looking cozy over there in your corner.
You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.
âMay I join you?â
âIf youâd like.â
He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, âNot gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.â
He shyly shrugs, âI guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?â
You giggle, âYeah, I suppose you do.â
âMaybe I can practice with you?â
You give him a coy look, âI guess you can.â
#Bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader#Bucky imagine#Bucky Barnes imagine#CEO AU#marvel imagine#marvel AU
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Sorry I can't find your rules for ask I looked at the pinned post but all it said was that asks are open and that kids should not interact (im 22 btw) anyway if you're cool with it can I request a yandere sagau where yandere furina is saved by reader (who hides their creator status from the world) and when she's near the reader she feels all of her pain wash away (like reader has a calming aura which makes people feel safe) anyway when reader leaves all of the pain returns which causes furina to grow a yandere obsession with the reader and gets the raeder accused of some crime so that she can keep the reader with her so only she will have the reader (also you can make the reader any gender you want also if you're comfortable with it do you think the reader might develop a short of Stockholm syndrome?)
Before the prophecy was declared "false" Furina placed her hopes deep into the great divine, so much so it was rumored that she'd end every Opera performance with a small prayer to such of a diety, however near the end of a perfomance, more specifically Lyneys murder trial, Furina spiraled.
For such a perfectionist in her art form, Furina could feel the grip she had on her mind slip to a point she couldn't even try to make right of the trial.
"Was she wrong? What does the public think? How would Neuvillette make right of this? How could a goddess of justice be wrong in her prosecution? What else could I do wrong, what else can I keep onto? What am I doing wrong, am i-"
Furina sat alone on a bench in the quiet streets of Fontaine, her eyes hollow of life as she stared at the famous fountain outside the elevator and Aquabus station entrance. All memories of every embarrassment and failure conjure in her mind. As the street lights flickered awake, a figure sat next to her.
The waves of depression swallowing over her form calm, the sounds and voices come to a whisper and suddenly stop, and the dark and cold water stays still. Furina's eyes come back into focus as she looks at who sat beside her, where this mere force of calm comes from.
Furina's eyes narrow at the person, who has a strange yet familiar appearance. A warm smile appears on their lips as they offer her a small golden candy from their palm. Nothing is said at all. Furina takes the candy and sits in silence. By the rise of the moon, she feels at peace.
These occurrences don't happen as suddenly as they should. Many times, Furina wished they did, but you only appear suddenly, whether at a cafe, on a bench outside the Palais ammonia, or outside the balcony of her apartment. Sometimes, she wishes you'd speak to her or even try to make known your intentions. However, she feels she knows better than to ask.
Days after the meeting with the Knave, who Furina shivered at the image of, she had to be escorted everywhere by a guard, whether Clorinde or a member of the Marecheuse Phantom, random attacks against Furina's image increased, and even Neuvillette was worried for her well-being.
Entering the public is a now daunting task to remain in good light of the people in politics, to make the other members of the court, high and low to see how "responsible" their dear archon is. To see if she could handle the crisis Fontaine was in. News spread after the outbreak of primordial sea water inside the Fortress of Meropide.
Furina walked outside the Palais Mermonia. She looked out at the grey sky and took a deep sigh. Her mind scanning the busy streets, she took calm but vaguely confident steps onto the pavement, her heels clicking against the ground as she walked out for the stores., as she walked past fruit stalls, selling fruits, vegetables, and new fresh flowers, despite the rainy day as she takes small interest in anything, even the small droplets of rain falling against the umbrella of the stan. She could feel dozens of eyes on her, not an unusual occasion. When your fontaines biggest star, you're used to many watching your every move. Even a glance to learn about her would suffice.
However, a particular man, specifically one who looked a little too closenfor comfort, was watching her. He stood under a post with an umbrella and newspaper with the wrong date. She didn't panic well physically, but mentally, she was reeling. She shook her head at the stock of rainbow roses and walked away briskly. Rain followed as she fumbled with her umbrella to get it open.
As she walked, the streets were busy despite the rain. She waved to some locals, actors, and journalists while winding down the path to escape her pursuer. Who followed not to be closely behind, occasionally standing to look at stalls or pretend to watch the crowd. Furina walks past the ramp towards Chioria boutique.
As she walked, she heard the hurried footsteps behind her, and she walked quicker.
He followed, almost stomping as he jogged behind.
Her heels clicked faster, and she was sprinting, running past unfamiliar faces.
The man chased, Furina bolts down the rampway, as she is casuing a scene, gordes, mekas, and people crowd around to see what is going on?
Is that lady Furina? Why is she running? Is it a show? Is she acting? Oh! Is this a new sequeal to her play last year?!
Furina panicked at the voices, all coming back, he feet carrying her somehwere she didn't know yet.
Ironic, a common theme of her life thus far.
She ran before running past an alley and felt a knowing feeling, warmth.
Furina scurried towards the alleyway and saw the familar face she had seen for ages at a time, but jow she sees it fully.
A divine presence.
You were petting a small kitten and looked up, pushing a finger to your small, smiled lips, nodding. The man following Furina stops outside the alleway but huffs when seeing nothing. He turns away. You nodded and continued petting the kitten.
Furina for never doubtful decided.
This feeling is something she can never get bored of. Never be tired of, never wanting to be rid of. She needed it in her presence and life.
As she is watching you hum and pet the kitten, a golden glow emitting off your features, almost like a halo effect, Furina whispered into her mind.
More.....I want more...
That moment, the alleyway-enlightenment as she would proudly proclaim was when she knew. She needed you to herself. For days after this experience, nights, she stayed awake. She rationalized.
No one can hear of this. It could bring harm to you, to the functions of the world, your nature, your power that she had no idea existed or even worked. She couldn't tell Neuvillette if he knew you'd be put away for safety and probably tested by the institution. Not to mention, she found you, and you made your presence known to her...willingly.
It had to be a sign then. For this was for your safety. She knew that having your around 24/7 could help her image, a divine deity with a warming embrace...perfect for the hydro archon... a beacon of life and a god of justice.
So she put the plan into motion. A month after her enlightening, she went into a frenzy, reading logs, articles, journalist papers, and reports on cases for this.
By the end of the month, she had all she needed.
Furina was quick with her proclaim, the audience sat in shock.
Who dare attack the hydro archon? Stalk her? Even try to force her into the rumors of her divinity.? How dare they!
Oh, so beloved by her nation, the skeptics, dramatics, and lovers of a good Opera visit. Sat in shock, this random person, with no record of existence in Fontaine, dares such?
You sat in silence, the bench was cold, the prosecution being Furina herself, you stared at her, compassion and empathy brimming at your eyes as she went on with the case. Arguing to your silence.
Neuvillette watched and multiple times stepped in to offer you an argument, only for you to plead guilty before the end of the trial. The Oratrice Mechanique D'Nalise Cardinal answered in truth.
You were guilty.
Even if no crime was committed, you wallowed in guilt. You felt pity and guilt for her. Maybe she was desperate for a drop of divinity, true divinity. Maybe she feared you or was thinking for her nation. However, it was plain to see.
The Oratrice read guilt somewhere.
You were moved to a "special" cell in the countryside of Fontaine, authorized by the Fortress and Furina with the Opera house. It was like a mock kitchen from a play in the Opera. Old books and playwrites sat everywhere as entertainment. The kitten from before slept on the windowsill but could never go out, nor could you.
Days you'd sit alone and sit in meditation. Some days, Furina would sit with you, never speaking. Others, you'd be alone again.
Some days, you can feel her shame, her compulsive actions speaking, others its delusion and denial.
Finally you figured it out.
This poor cursed human was coping with your existence, her cries at night when she rested with you, even while you lay awake, the nightmares shed have. It was truly pitiful. Your heart beated 2x mkre for your dear creations, so seeing one so special, suffer in so many ways, it hurt your heart.
So when she asked for a melody to hum, you hum. When she returns back from a day of performances, you clap and cheer for her when she talks about her dreams and nightmares. You no longer sit still but now comfort her.
In this reality, she gets the drop of divinity, not godhood, but rather your love and care. Something truly beyond anything Furina could dream of.
Whether you felt like it or not.
-> EDIT: took so long and lost steam halfway, not the worse. But thanks again for the request. I'm sorry for the wait, everyone!
#genshin impact#berri bombđ#genshin impact x reader#berri things#furina de fontaine#genshin furina#furina genshin#furina#furina x reader#genshin sagau#sagau x reader#sagau cult au#genshin impact sagau
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So glad youâre back, missed your amazing writing a lot!
Would it be possible to make something about maybe the reader getting bit and infected , but Ellie instead of killing them just kind of ..keeps them?
Like she refuses to lose anyone else , too many people she knew lost themselves to the infected and she just canât shoot them, and despite their pleas for Ellie to just put them down, yknow before theyâre fully infected, Ellie just canât do it
Itâs selfish and she knows that but she just canât lose R . And maybe when R is like, fully infected, theyâre way less aggressive with Ellie- like even with the fungus controlling their brain, those foggy eyes still recognize Ellie just a little bit, like theyâre still there
Or maybe thatâs what Ellie believes and sheâs just majorly delusional! Itâs not like she could get infected if we bit them anyway đ
(P.S Iâm glad youâre back but donât feel any pressure to do anything you donât want to! Itâs always nice to keep balance and take breaks and all that. really love what you do!)
This literally made my day! tsym for this request, it was gut-wrenching to write...I definitely need to write more angst đ
Fragments.
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ăitâs you ă¡
The air in the room felt stifling, thick with tension and the lingering smell of antiseptic. You knelt beside Ellie, carefully cleaning the dirt and dried blood from her arm, your hands steady despite the unease crawling up your spine. Her skin was cold to the touch, and you could feel the thinness of her frameâshe hadnât been eating. Her face was hollow, eyes glassy as she stared blankly at the peeling wallpaper, as if the world beyond had ceased to matter.
"You need food," you said quietly, dabbing at the worst of her wounds. "If you donât, youâll collapse before you even make it out of this place."
Your voice barely stirred the silence. Ellieâs jaw tightened, but she gave no other sign that she heard you. You reached for the bandages to wrap the gash along her arm, but just as your fingers brushed the edge of her sleeve, she pulled back, standing abruptly. The bed creaked as she rose, putting space between you, her body tense like a spring ready to snap.
She moved to the window, staring out into the rain-soaked streets, her reflection barely visible in the glass. One hand rose to her forehead, pressing hard as if she could push away the weight bearing down on her. "Iâm leaving tonight," she murmured, her voice flat but filled with quiet finality.
You rose slowly, watching her closely. "EllieâŚ" you began, but the words felt heavy, caught in your throat. "You canât go alone. Iâm coming with you."
The sound of your words seemed to break something loose in her, and she let out a dry, humorless laugh. It was bitter, the kind of laugh that had nothing to do with amusement. "No, youâre not," she said, turning halfway to glance at you. Her eyes flickered with something cold and distant. "This isnât about you. You stay here. I donât need you following me."
Her words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. You wanted to reach out, to close the gap, but her posture warned you to keep your distance. She ran a hand through her hair, the strands falling messily around her face, the exhaustion clear in the way her body sagged, but she kept standing. Kept moving. Kept fighting.
Finally, she turned fully, her eyes locking onto yours with a steely resolve. The warmth that had once been thereâthe fire, the connectionâwas gone. Replaced by something hollow, something hardened by too much loss. The person you were staring at was Ellie, but at the same time, it wasnât her. Her expression was almost unreadable, the kind of cold determination that refused to be questioned.
"You donât know what this is," she said, her voice low, barely above a whisper, but carrying the weight of everything unsaid. "You donât want any part of it." Her gaze was icy, her eyes daring you to argue. Daring you to stop her.
And in that moment, you realized the Ellie standing before you was not the same girl who once trusted you with her secrets, her fears. She had become something else, someone chasing after something that only she could see.
The rain outside drummed softly against the cracked windowpane, its steady rhythm the only sound filling the suffocating quiet between you and Ellie. She had turned away from you again, facing the door now, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets like they were holding her together. But you werenât going to let her leave. Not like this.
"I am coming with you, Ellie," you said, your voice firmer this time. "You canât do this alone."
She stiffened, her shoulders hunching slightly, like the weight of your words was too much to bear. For a moment, she didnât move, didnât say anything, the tension between you thickening with every passing second. The space between you felt like a chasm, widening with each breath.
"I told you to stay," she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice low but trembling at the edges. Her hands gripped the fabric of her jacket inside the pockets, knuckles white, though you couldnât see it. "This isnât your fight."
"You think I care about that?" you shot back, stepping closer, trying to catch her eye. "You think Iâm going to stand by and let you run off into God knows what? Youâll get yourself killed out there."
She let out another bitter laugh, but this time it was shakier, less certain, like she was using it as a shield. "Iâll be fine," she said, though the words felt hollow, more for her benefit than yours. She shifted slightly, her back still to you, and you could see her hands twitch inside her pockets. Her whole body was rigid, but there was a tremor running through her, something she was desperately trying to hide.
You stepped forward, your voice softening but still determined. "No, you wonât. You havenât slept, havenât eaten. Youâre barely holding on, Ellie." The words hung in the air between you, and you could feel the weight of them sinking in.
"Stop it," she snapped suddenly, her voice cracking at the edges as she turned halfway, but still not fully meeting your eyes. Her hands were shaking now, slight but noticeable, and she shoved them deeper into her pockets, as if that would make the tremors disappear. "You donât know what youâre talking about."
"Then tell me," you pressed, not backing down. "Tell me why you wonât let me come with you. Why you keep pushing me away."
Her gaze darted to the floor, her lips pressed into a thin line. She was breathing faster now, the tremble in her voice more pronounced, and her whole frame seemed to sag under the weight of your words. But still, she didnât look at you. She couldnât.
"BecauseâŚ" she started, her voice barely above a whisper, but then she swallowed hard, shaking her head, as if trying to force the words back down. She ran a hand through her hair again, her fingers trembling as they got caught in the messy strands, her breath shallow.
She took a step toward the door, her movements almost frantic, her back still turned. "You donât get it," she muttered, her voice fragile. "If you come with meâŚ"
Her voice broke completely, and she clenched her fists so hard inside her pockets that you could see her arms tense up. She couldnât finish the sentence, couldnât even face you, her entire body vibrating with barely contained emotion. You could feel the distance between you growing, and yet, you knew she was right thereâright on the edge of something she didnât want to admit.
"Ellie," you said gently, stepping closer until you were just behind her. "You donât have to do this alone. You canât keep shutting people out."
She took a deep breath, as if trying to steel herself, but it wasnât working. The more she tried to keep her voice steady, the more it trembled, betraying her. "I have to," she whispered, her voice so small, so fragile that it barely sounded like her. "I canât⌠I canât lose anyone else."
The confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, one tug away from snapping, and your heart clenched. She still wouldnât look at you, her eyes glued to the door, as if staring at it would keep her from unraveling. Her hands slipped from her pockets, fingers twitching at her sides now, shaking uncontrollably.
"EllieâŚ" you whispered, taking a step closer, but she flinched, turning away sharply, like she couldnât bear your presence. Her breathing had quickened, shallow and uneven, and her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape.Â
"I canât⌠I canât lose you too," she choked out finally, the words spilling out like they had been forced from somewhere deep inside her, where she had buried them. She bit her lip, hard, as if punishing herself for saying it out loud, as if the very act of speaking it made it real.
Her hands balled into fists again, trembling as she pressed them against her sides. She was shaking now, her entire body vibrating with the fear she couldnât voice, the grief she refused to let surface. But it was there, seeping out through every crack, every tremor. And she couldnât hide it anymore.
She wouldnât look at youâcouldnâtâbut you could see the tears welling up in her eyes, and the way she blinked rapidly to hold them back. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again, raw and broken. "If you come with me⌠something will happen. I know it. Iâll lose you too."Â
There it was. The truth she had been too terrified to say, the fear she had been carrying with her all this time. The fear that had kept her running, kept her distant, kept her cold. She wasnât just afraid of losing more peopleâshe was afraid of losing you.
You stood there, your heart aching for her, wanting to reach out and tell her it was okayâthat you understood. But you knew that right now, she couldnât handle that. Not when she was so close to breaking.
She turned away again, her shoulders hunched, her body trembling as she fought to keep herself together. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Just⌠stay. Donât make me say goodbye to you too."
The silence that followed was suffocating, and you knew in that moment, she wasnât just asking you to stay behind. She was asking you to save her from the heartbreak she feared was inevitable. To stop her from speaking her worst fears into existence.Â
âââââââ
The morning was overcast, the kind of gray that settled over everything, turning the world dull and lifeless. You and Ellie walked side by side through the empty town, your footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet streets. The rain had stopped hours ago, but the dampness still lingered in the air, making everything feel heavy and cold. Your breath came out in short, visible puffs, mingling with the mist that clung to the abandoned buildings around you.
Ellie was quiet, her gaze fixed ahead as she led the way, rifle slung over her shoulder. The tension from the night before still lingered between you, a quiet undercurrent that neither of you had fully addressed. But for now, there were more immediate concernsâsupplies, food, anything that could keep you both going for another few days. The last town had been picked clean, and this one didnât look much better.
You passed by boarded-up storefronts, windows cracked and shattered, their interiors dark and hollow. The signs above them had long faded, the paint chipped and peeling, a reminder of a life long abandoned. Ellie didnât say a word, but her movements were sharp, purposeful, her eyes scanning every alley, every shadow. She was on edge, though she tried to hide it.Â
As you walked, the distant sound of creaking metal caught your attention. A rusted-out sign swung lazily in the wind above an old convenience store. The windows were grimy, impossible to see through, but it didnât look like it had been touched in a while.Â
"Letâs check in there," you suggested, nodding toward the building. Ellie gave a curt nod in response, her lips pressed tightly together, and without a word, she moved toward the door, her boots scuffing against the wet pavement. She reached for the handle, testing it cautiously, and the door creaked open with a low groan, the hinges rusted from neglect.
Inside, the air was musty, thick with the scent of mold and decay. Shelves lined the walls, though most were bare, their contents either stolen or long expired. Sunlight barely filtered through the grime-covered windows, casting everything in a muted, grayish light. Ellie stepped in first, her hand already hovering near her pistol, her eyes sharp and scanning the dim interior. You followed close behind, your heartbeat quickening slightly in the eerie stillness of the place.
You moved toward the back of the store, eyes scanning the shelves for anything usefulâcanned food, medical supplies, anything that might help. Ellie moved along the opposite side, her footsteps deliberate, her focus entirely on the task at hand.
The quiet between you both was almost oppressive, but you could sense her tension with every move she made, like she was barely holding herself together. Her fingers twitched as they traced the edge of a dusty shelf, her breathing shallow but controlled. The rawness from last night was still fresh, unspoken, hanging heavy in the air, but neither of you knew how to address it.
Your gaze drifted toward her as she rifled through a half-empty bin, her face partially hidden under the hood of her jacket. There was something about the way she moved nowâfaster, more determined, as if keeping herself busy could drown out whatever thoughts were haunting her. But the slight tremor in her hands as she reached for a tin can gave her away.
"Ellie," you said softly, breaking the silence between you.
She froze for just a second, her shoulders tensing before she forced herself to keep moving, pretending she hadnât heard you. "We need to focus," she muttered, her voice tight, strained.
"I am focusing," you replied, stepping closer. "But weâre not going to find much if you burn yourself out."
Her jaw clenched, and she finally looked at you, her green eyes flickering with something sharpâanger, maybe frustration, but beneath it, fear. She didnât respond immediately, instead stuffing the can sheâd found into her backpack with more force than necessary.
"We donât have time to slow down," she said, her voice low, clipped. "Not now. We have to keep moving, keep finding what we can. Itâs how we survive."Â
Her words had a harsh edge, but you could see the exhaustion pulling at her features, the way her body sagged slightly as she spoke. She hadnât fully recovered from everythingâphysically or mentallyâbut she was pushing herself harder than ever, trying to keep the walls up, to keep that distance between you.
You sighed, glancing around the room. "Look, I get it. I do. But if you donât rest, if you donât take a second to breathe⌠youâre not going to make it to the next town. Neither of us will."
Ellie shot you a look, a mix of frustration and something you couldnât quite place, before shaking her head. She opened her mouth to respond, but just as she did, the soft sound of glass crunching underfoot echoed from the far side of the store. Both of you froze instantly, the air thickening as your heart rate spiked.Â
Ellieâs hand was on her pistol in a flash, her body low and tense, her eyes darting toward the source of the sound. You reached for your own weapon, your grip tight, the adrenaline flooding your veins as you both moved silently toward the back corner of the store. There, behind a display shelf, something shiftedâsmall, fast. A figure darted past the aisle in the dim light.
Ellie glanced at you, her eyes wide but focused, her hand steady on her pistol despite the fear lurking beneath the surface. The moment stretched on, filled with quiet breaths and pounding heartbeats as you both prepared for whatever came next.Â
But this was no longer just about finding supplies. Now, survival had become the immediate goal.
The sound came before you saw themâa low, guttural growl echoing through the silence of the store, followed by the unmistakable shuffle of heavy footsteps. At first, it was just one. But then, more followed. A chorus of inhuman snarls and groans rising up from the aisles.
Ellieâs eyes darted toward the door as the noise grew louder, her posture stiffening with the realization. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, her grip tightening around the handle of her pistol. She didnât need to say anythingâyou knew exactly what was coming.
Before you could react, a figure lurched into view, stumbling into the store from the far side, its limbs jerking with that unnatural, erratic movement you knew too well. The infected creature let out a high-pitched screech, its head snapping in your direction, milky eyes locked onto you. It wasnât alone. Behind it, more shadows shifted, crowding the entrance as the herd began to pour in, a flood of bodies pushing against the broken doorframe.
"Go!" Ellie barked, her voice sharp and urgent. Without hesitation, she grabbed your arm and yanked you toward the back of the store, her eyes wide with fear but her movements quick, determined. The infected were swarming now, their snarls filling the air as they tore through the aisles, knocking over shelves and scattering debris in their path.
You ran, the sound of the horde behind you growing louder with every second, the ground trembling under their relentless charge. Ellie was in front, her boots pounding against the worn tile, her breathing fast but controlled as she weaved between shelves, looking for an exit. You could hear her muttering curses under her breath, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
But then you heard itâthe stumble, the faint hitch in her step. You glanced at Ellie, and immediately you saw the change. She was slowing down, her movements less fluid, more labored. Her breathing had turned ragged, and her face was pale, her brow glistening with sweat.
"Ellie!" you shouted, grabbing her arm as she stumbled again, barely keeping herself upright. Her legs were shaking now, her footsteps faltering as though her body was finally giving out.
"Iâm fine," she snapped, pulling away from you, though the strain in her voice was impossible to miss. She tried to push forward, but her legs buckled again, this time more severely. Her frustration was palpable, a flare of anger that lit up her expression as she fought to keep moving.
Behind you, the infected were closing in, their growls growing louder, more aggressive. You could hear the scrape of their claws against the floor, the sickening sounds of their bodies slamming into shelves, knocking them aside in their frenzy to reach you.
Ellie tried to pick up the pace, but it was clear something was wrong. Her face twisted in pain and frustration as she pushed herself harder, but her body wasnât cooperating. She was weakeningâfast. Days without food, without proper rest, were finally catching up to her. And it showed.
"Damn it!" she hissed, her voice thick with angerâat herself, at the situation. Her fists clenched, her legs trembling with every step. She was trying, but her body was betraying her, and you could see the panic beginning to set in, masked beneath her frustration.
"Ellie, stop," you called out, your voice rising over the cacophony of snarls and shuffling feet behind you. "Youâre going to get yourself killed if you donâtâ"
"Iâm fine!" she barked again, her voice strained as she forced herself forward. But it was clear she wasnât. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps now, her legs nearly giving out beneath her as she stumbled again, catching herself on a shelf. She paused for a split second, clutching her side, her face contorted with frustration and pain.
You could see it in herâthe fear, the anger. The way she was cursing herself for being weak, for slowing down. The look in her eyes was one of desperation, her teeth clenched as she fought to stay on her feet, her body visibly trembling from the effort.
But the infected were too close now. There wasnât time.
"Theyâre almost on us!" you yelled, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her forward, practically dragging her as you both pushed toward the back of the store. You could hear the footsteps of the infected right behind you, their growls echoing in your ears, growing louder, more frantic.
Ellieâs legs were barely holding her up at this point, and she stumbled again, letting out a frustrated growl of her own. "I canâtâŚ" she muttered, her voice cracking as she nearly collapsed, her knees buckling beneath her. "I canât fuckingâ"
"Keep going!" you urged, your heart pounding as you tugged her forward, the infected right behind you. "You have to keep moving, Ellie!"
She gritted her teeth, her breath coming in harsh gasps. "Iâm trying!" she snapped, but her voice broke, revealing the exhaustion and fear underneath. Her legs were giving up, her body shaking violently now with the effort to keep going. But there was no time to stop, no time to rest.
With a final, desperate push, you managed to drag her to the back of the store, where a door hung slightly ajar, leading into an alleyway. You kicked it open with your foot, the door slamming against the wall as you shoved Ellie through, both of you stumbling into the narrow passage outside.
The moment you were out, you slammed the door shut behind you, leaning heavily against it as you heard the infected slam into the other side, their snarls muffled but still terrifyingly close. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding in your ears, but you had made it. Barely.
Ellie collapsed against the brick wall of the alley, her legs finally giving out. She was breathing hard, her hands trembling as she gripped the wall for support, her eyes squeezed shut. Her frustration was palpable, mixed with the fear she refused to admit.
"I canâtâŚ" she muttered, her voice weak, trembling. "I canât⌠keep doing this."
You knelt beside her, your own breath ragged as you watched her struggle, her body shaking from the exhaustion, her face pale and drawn. She was angryâangry at herself for slowing down, for not being able to keep up. But beneath that anger, you saw the fearâthe fear of losing, of failing, of being weak.
"Itâs not your fault," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the chaos. "Youâre exhausted. You need rest."
But Ellie just shook her head, her jaw clenched as she fought to catch her breath, her hands still trembling as she wiped sweat from her brow. "I canât afford to be weak," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not now. Not ever."
You stole a glance at her, noticing the way she picked at the dirt beneath her fingers, brow furrowed in concentration. She looked lost, wrestling with turmoil inside. The vulnerability in her posture struck you, and you reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against her cheek. The moment your skin made contact, her gaze snapped up to meet yours, a flicker of surprise dancing in her green eyes.
Your fingers grazed her face, gently caressing her skin, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like time stood still, the chaos outside fading into the background. But then her eyes fell to your hand, and your heart sank as you followed her gaze.
Your wrist was marked by a fresh bite, angry and raw, the skin around it bruised and mottled. You hadnât even realized itâmaybe it was the adrenaline that masked the pain. But now, as the truth washed over you, a cold dread seeped into your bones.
âNoâŚâ Ellie breathed, her voice breaking the stillness. Her eyes widened with panic, the color draining from her face as the realization hit her. The flicker of fear transformed into a tempest of emotions within herâanger, despair, disbelief.
In an instant, she was on her feet, her movements frantic as she began to throw things around the alley. Old crates, discarded bottles, and scraps of metal flew through the air, clattering against the brick walls. âNo! No! No!â she shouted, her voice rising in a frantic pitch, echoing off the walls like a scream in the dark.
You remained seated, shock holding you in place as you watched her unravel. It was as if she was trying to physically push the reality away, to fight against the fate that loomed over you both. âThis canât be happening!â she yelled, her hands shaking violently as she grabbed a rusted pipe and hurled it against the wall, the sound of metal clanging against stone reverberating through the air.
âEllie, stop!â you tried to say, but the words wouldnât come out. The weight of your own fate held you down, anchoring you in place. You could only watch as she spiraled deeper into panic, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes darting everywhere as if searching for an escape that didnât exist.
âI canât lose you! Not like this!â she cried, the desperation in her voice slicing through the air like a knife. She kicked over an old barrel, its contents spilling out onto the ground, littering the alley with debris. Each movement she made was frantic, unhinged, her anger directed at everything around her, but it was clear where the true target layâat the helplessness of the situation, at you.
Her voice cracked with emotion as she faced you, rage and anguish contorting her features. âYou canât justâget bitten! You know what that means!â Her fists clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms as if they could ground her in this moment of chaos. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, mixing with the fire of her anger, creating a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to explode.
âDamn it!â she shouted, pacing the narrow confines of the alley, her energy raw and electric. âYou were supposed to be careful! We were supposed to stick together! I canât do this again!â With each word, she hurled another object, her fury radiating like heat waves. A glass bottle shattered against the wall, fragments scattering as they hit the ground like shards of her resolve.
You attempted to rise, to reach out to her, but the weight of your own fate held you down, anchoring you in place. The world outside the alley faded into insignificance as the reality of the bite settled in your mind, its implications crashing over you like a tidal wave. Ellieâs face crumpled, and you could see the moment the fight drained from her.
âI canât do this again!â she shouted, her voice cracking, finally collapsing onto her knees in front of you. Tears shimmered in her eyes, glistening like tiny stars as they caught the dim light filtering through the alley. She was shaking now, her body trembling from the weight of the moment.
You reached out, brushing your fingers against her shoulder, but she flinched away from your touch, her eyes wide and wild, the anger and fear swirling in them. âYouâre not⌠you canât be bitten! Not again! Not after everything!â The words tumbled out of her, each one a plea, a denial of the truth that was crashing down around you.
âEllie,â you finally managed to say, your voice low and strained, but she cut you off.
âNo! Donât say it!â She shot to her feet again, her fists clenched, the glass glinting dangerously in the dim lightÂ
You wanted to reassure her, to tell her it would be okay, but the words caught in your throat, the reality weighing down your heart. You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.Â
âEllieâŚâ you managed to say, your voice strained and raw. âYou have to put me down. Before itâs too late.â You could see the conflict in her eyes, the way she fought against the impending reality, her heart grappling with the instinct to protect and the stark truth of your situation.
 âYou canât let me turn,â you pleaded, your tone urgent as you reached out to touch her knee, seeking any connection that might ground her in this moment.
But she recoiled slightly, shaking her head vehemently. âI canât. I wonât!â Her voice cracked with emotion, the glass shard trembling in her grasp as she wrestled with the weight of the decision before her. âYouâre not going to die. Not like this! Not at my hands!â
âEllie, please,â you urged, your own heart pounding in your chest as you saw the resolve in her face begin to crack. âYou know itâs the only way. You have to be strong.â
She squeezed her eyes shut, and when they opened again, the hurt etched into her features made your heart ache. âNo! I canât lose you! I canât!â The glass fell from her fingers, clattering against the pavement, shattering the silence that enveloped you. Her shoulders trembled as her breath hitched, and you could see the tears beginning to spill over, tracing paths down her cheeks.
âItâs selfish, I know,â she said, her voice a choked whisper, filled with anguish. âBut I just canât⌠I canât let you go. I canât do it again.â Her body shook as she spoke, the weight of her grief pulling her under. The memory of everyone she had lost flooded back, and the fear of losing you felt like a tidal wave crashing against her, threatening to drown her in despair.
You watched her struggle, your heart aching for the pain she carried. âEllie,â you said softly, trying to reach her through the turmoil.Â
âNo!â she cried, and it was a raw, primal sound, one that echoed with the deep, crushing fear that had taken root within her. She dropped her head into her hands, fingers tangled in her hair as if trying to pull herself together. âI wonât let you go,â she repeated, her voice muffled, but resolute.
âEllie, listen to me,â you urged, desperation creeping into your voice. âI donât want to become one of them. I canât do that to you. You have to make the hard choice. Youâre stronger than this.â
âââââââ
Time slipped away in a haze of disorientation and muffled sounds. The world outside your awareness had transformed into a distant murmur, punctuated by the gnashing of teeth and the haunting cries of the infected. As the days passed, the infection took hold, an insidious creeping through your body, weaving its way into your mind, pulling you deeper into a fog that blurred the line between your old self and the new, grotesque reality.Â
Yet, even as the fungus spread, there were fleeting moments of clarityâglimmers of recognition amid the haze. It was as if the remnants of your consciousness flickered like a dying light, occasionally illuminating the shadowy corners of your mind. And somehow, through it all, Ellie remained a constant presence, a beacon that anchored you to the fragments of your former self.
The small, makeshift shelter you shared was dim, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and the remnants of previous meals. Ellie moved around the space with a quiet intensity, her every action laced with a palpable mix of determination and despair. She had become the lifeline, foraging and hunting in the barren landscape outside, all while trying to preserve what remained of the person you used to be.Â
Today, she returned with a small gameâa rabbit, its body limp in her hands, the fur matted with dirt from the struggle. As she set to work preparing it, you watched from your corner of the room, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated, remnants of the old you trying to claw their way to the surface.
She moved with a practiced ease, though her eyes reflected the weight of her heart. The sun cast a soft light through the cracks in the shelter, illuminating her face, the tension in her jaw, and the shadows beneath her eyes. Ellie hummed a tune, a faint echo of the songs you used to sing together, but the melody was laced with sorrow.Â
âHey,â she murmured, her voice wavering as she chopped the rabbit into pieces. âJust hold on a bit longer, okay? Iâll make us something good.âÂ
You stared at her, trying to focus, your mind a swirling mess of thoughts and emotions. You wanted to respond, to assure her that you were still there, still part of this fragile moment. Your fingers twitched, and for a heartbeat, you felt a flicker of the warmth and love that had once defined your connection.
Ellie set the small pot over the meager flame and watched it carefully, as if the rhythm of the boiling water might soothe the chaos within her. âI wish you could help me with this,â she said softly, glancing over her shoulder at you, the ghost of a smile trying to break through the pain. âYou always knew how to cook better than I did.â
You shifted your gaze toward her, the fog thickening around your thoughts, yet something within you stirred. You wanted to tell her that you remembered, that you could still see her, that you were still there. But the words lay heavy on your tongue, trapped in the murky depths of the infectionâs grip.
As the scent of cooking meat filled the air, Ellie moved to the small stash of supplies, pulling out a bowl and some utensils. She served the food into two bowls, carefully portioning it out, her hands steady despite the tremor in her heart. The moment felt almost normal, a slice of life amid the horror that surrounded you.Â
Yet, as she sat down across from you, her hands cradling the bowl, the weight of it all crashed down on her. She brought the food to her lips, but just as it reached her mouth, her resolve faltered. The sight of youâsitting there, half-formed and shifting between the shadows of your former self and the infected being you had becomeâmade her heart ache. Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, splashing onto the bowl, mixing with the meal.
âI canât do this,â she sobbed, dropping the bowl back into her lap. âI canât eat. Not like this.â Her voice broke, cracking under the strain of the moment, each word laced with the weight of grief and hopelessness.Â
Your foggy gaze remained fixed on her, struggling to understand the depth of her sorrow. Something in your chest tightened as you watched her, the recognition of her pain filtering through the haze. There was still a flicker of connectionâsome thread of recognition that made you feel like you were still there, still a part of her life.Â
âIâm sorryâŚâ she whispered, her voice shaking, trembling with the raw honesty of her emotions. âI thought we could be okay, that you could still⌠still come back to me.â Her tears fell freely, each drop a testament to the battle raging within herâlove, loss, and the desperate longing for the past.
In that moment, something deep within you stirred, a yearning to reach out to her, to tell her that despite the infection, you could still feel her presence, still recognize her. You shifted slightly, the movement barely noticeable, but it was enough to capture her attention.Â
âEllieâŚâ you rasped, the sound barely escaping your lips, but it felt like an eternity as you fought against the fog, wrestling with the remnants of your thoughts. It was a plea, a cry buried deep within, resonating with all the unspoken words that hung between you.
She looked up, her eyes wide, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to pause. âYouâre still in there, arenât you?â she breathed, her voice laced with disbelief and hope. âYou can hear me?â
There was a flicker of clarity, a connection that pulsed between youâa heartbeat against the chaos that surrounded. You focused on her, trying to push through the fog, to let her know that you were still here, still fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume you both.
But even as the realization flickered within her, the truth hung heavily in the airâthe infection was taking hold, and there was only so much time left. The thought sent her spiraling back into despair, the tears falling more freely as she gripped the bowl tightly, her knuckles whitening.
âI canât lose you,â she whispered, her voice breaking once more, a raw wound laid bare for you to witness. âI just canât.â
And in that moment, as the warmth of her tears pooled on your skin, you understood the weight of her love and the crushing reality of your situation. You were still there, a flicker in the darkness, but it wasnât enough to shield her from the pain that lay ahead. The bond between you remained, even as the world began to fade, and all you could do was hold on to that sliver of connection, even as everything else slipped away.
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