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starry-bi-sky · 6 months ago

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Childhood Friends Danny and Jason: Ch2 Remastered

-------------------------------------------------------------- late at night when the stars don't look quite right -------------------------------------------------------------- there's something burning in the empty room inside of my head fill it up with doubt let it in, let it spread

Jason nearly falls flat on his face when he sees the photo of Danny. He’s in a warehouse, finishing up with a gang selling drugs on his turf. The guys he’s got tied up are cursing up a storm at him, throwing every insult under the sun his way that he’s all heard before. His eyes drag over to them, and silently Jason adjusts his jacket to reveal the guns strapped to his thighs, his hand hovering over the handle of one.

They all fall silent, and Jason moves his hand away. His phone in his other hand, texting Oracle to alert the police. Jason hates that he has to; these guys will be out of their cells in a matter of months, and nothing will change.

But he’ll play nice.

And then his phone buzzes, and when Jason looks down he sees a banner from Tim. A message he planned on ignoring, but his eyes skim over the text on instinct, and suddenly the air is stolen right from his lungs, and his thumb is hitting the screen before he can really think it through.

[Hey Jason, your best friend just appeared in Gotham for the first time since your funeral.]

Impossible. He thinks, yanking his phone close to his nose, as if that will make it any less real or fake. Danny hasn’t been in Gotham in years, Jason checked. But then the image loads, and then he’s staring Danny Fenton in the face. And then he’s greedily tracing every minute, new detail he can find. The gang left half-forgotten in his mind.

Danny’s got an undercut, it looks self-done. It looks good. He looks taller. He’s got piercings in his ears, gold and jewels lining up the sides like a magpie’s find. He’s got an eyebrow piercing.

Something old, something new; Danny is smiling and it still looks just as Jason remembers it. Crooked, lopsided, warm like the sun and belying the mischief underneath it. He remembers to breathe in that moment, and the sound comes in sharp. Danny’s eyes are as blue as they’ve ever been.

(“I don’ get why books talk so much about peoples’ eyes.” Danny complains to him one day when he’s visiting the manor, his legs thrown over Jason’s back like an anchor tied to its ship. They’re sunk into the mattress of Jason’s bed, sunlight peering through the windows. “They’re just eyes! I don’t need t’know that they’re ‘as blue as the sky,’ or- or the ocean, or whatever blue thing in the world there is.”)

(Jason’s smile comes to him like breathing, and he twists around to lay on his back. His arms trap Danny’s legs to his stomach. “Pretty sure it’s jus’ for emphasis on how much they’re noticing the person’s face.”)

(Danny’s face scrunches up, and Jason’s smile splits into a grin, heart swelling three sizes on instinct. “I think it’s stupid, s’just some fuckin’ eyes.”)

(“Eyes are windows to the soul, Dan.” Jason retorts, barking out a laugh when Danny gives him a deadpan look. His hands creep for a pillow, one of the soft downy ones wrapped in silk, and he throws it at Danny’s face. “And besides, speak for yourself! Your eyes are the bluest thing I’ve ever seen.”)

But most importantly, Danny looks tired.

Hiding is something that comes free with the purchase of living in Gotham, and Danny’s good at hiding things, he always has, but Jason knows him like the palm of his hands. He looks tired, and Jason wants to reach through the screen and ask him why. There’s an age-worn look there, catching in the flint of his iris, where his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jason gets the ETA from Oracle, then leaves as fast as his legs can carry him and his grappling hook can zip through the air. He needs to see Danny with his own eyes, to confirm himself that Danny was here, and that it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. Or that it was Tim playing a cruel joke on him — and if it was, he’ll have to rethink his whole killing thing.

Gotham’s air is warm and suffocating, but her winds bite at him as he soars through it.

It’s second nature for him to find the west end balcony, and Jason finds himself with his feet locked in place on the building beside it. Grappling hook in hand, and a balloon in his lungs, all swelled up and squishing the air out of him.

It’s just his luck —with whatever he has left— that Danny is there as well. In the same spot he’s always been, with a cigarette caught between his teeth. He’s stuck halfway, head tilting, eyes closed, with the shadows of Gotham on his back and the light of the gala at his front.

For a moment, for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Jason thinks Danny’s going to tilt himself back off the side.The thought has him blindly tilting himself forward with his heart in his throat. Hands reaching for his grappling hook, swinging down to drop down beside him.

Danny is staring at him before his feet even hit the ground, face nigh unreadable beyond the small, wary furrow of his brows. Danny’s never looked at him like that before, it feels like stumbling on the last step of the stairs.

Then, like fire to black powder something flashes and ignites in Danny’s eyes. Mouth curling, eyes burning, for a moment, just a moment, they’re kids again, getting into fights and turning soft hands punch-rough. Danny looks at Jason like he’s going to tear him to shreds.

Jason’s mouth runs dry like a desert in the summer, but his blood chills in fear cold in his veins. Why are you looking at me like that? His mouth opens, but his tongue is leaden in his throat, and no sound comes out. It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?

Danny yanks the cigarette from his mouth like it burns him, his free hand gripping onto the railing like it’s the tether to a leash, nails threatening to turn into talons. “Red Hood.” He says, voice low and timbre, smoke dripping from his lips like dragon’s breath.

Oh.

That’s right. Jason suffocates on his heart as it sinks and soars with relief. Danny doesn’t know it’s him. In his tunnel vision, he forgot that simple, easy fact. It’s not because it’s Jason that he’s angry. It still doesn’t explain, though, why Danny looks at him like he ought to sink his teeth into his throat and rip him open.

He’s half-distracted by that, and then distracted by the need to drink in the sight of Danny again. A photo is one thing; the real person is another, and with his fear subsiding, Jason rakes his eyes over his best friend and swallows him whole. His eyes are bluer in person, his memory and Tim’s photo doesn’t do them justice, and Danny inherited his dad’s height. He’s gotten so tall. They both have. They both used to be such scrawny kids.

So distracted is he, that he forgets to respond to Danny, to say anything. Not until Danny tries to dismiss himself, and Jason kickstarts into gear. White hot panic fills in his lungs, burning him up like magma. No, no, no, he’s moving without thinking, always when he’s with him, and he nearly latches onto Danny. Nearly wraps his hands around his arm to hold him in place. Don’t leave. You’re finally here; don’t go.

Danny stays, but he stares at Jason’s reaching hands like he’ll bite them off, stares at Jason with his eyes burning, watchful. Jason’s excuse is lousy and he knows it, but he wants, wants, wants to stay and figure out every new thing about Danny.

And he feels like he’s losing something. Time bleeds together beside him and Jason feels trapped behind a glass wall of his own making. Something old, something new. The distance of which Danny keeps him at is foreign to him. He hates it.

Tell me everything, he thinks, because he can’t find the words to say it. He hands Danny a cigarette instead, and hopes that it’s enough. Tell me everything and more, tell me what I’ve missed.

In the end, he still feels like he’s losing something, but he also feels like he’s missing something. Answers that are water, and that water is slipping through his fingers. Danny leaves him with more questions than answers; something that’s never happened before, and Jason watches him walk back inside with a spinning mind.

What do you mean you spoke to my ghost?

I told you that the Joker killed me?

Have I told you anything else? Have I already told you everything I’ve wanted to?

What happened while I was gone?

Is that why you’re scarred?

Because Jason isn’t blind, he’s never been. Not in Crime Alley, not as Robin, not now. And not when it comes to his best friend. He sees the silver lightning scars ripped jagged up Danny’s arm, sees that they disappear under his sleeves. He saw, faded as they were, invisible until the light hit right, as they spread like tree roots up his throat and across the side of his face.

Scars that Danny’s never had before. Scars he didn’t have when Jason was alive the first time. Scars he didn’t have the last time Jason saw him. Or — what he remembers to be the last time he saw him, because apparently he saw him as a ghost. He sees the curve of his ears and how they point more than a human’s should, he saw the glint of his canines, sharper than they should be; sharper than he remembers. Metaphorical fangs turned real.

Jason should’ve asked where he got them from, should’ve taken Danny by the front of his collar and stopped him from leaving. Who did this to you? He should have said, a fire burning in his chest and wrapping around his throat, pulling his voice into a snarl. He should have said, his guns weighing heavy on his sides; Who did it. I’ll take care of it. Just tell me who. Tell me everything.

Instead, something crawled into his mouth and died, and his tongue is glued to the roof of it. And he doesn’t say anything, because saying something means telling his best friend who he is. It means having to take off his helmet and mask. It means telling his best friend that he’s alive, that he has been. That despite being two halves of a whole, Jason spent five years letting him think he was dead.

He can’t tell him, not when he’s in too deep already. Not when Jason is so unrecognizable to who he used to be that if he told him, Danny would hate him.

And Danny is still grieving him. So plain as day mourning, still angry over his death. Angry enough that he wants the Joker dead, angry enough that he wants to hang the noose and kick the chair out himself.

Jason wishes he told him that he looks tired.

Instead he’s standing alone on the balcony, trying to get his thoughts in order as music blares muffled through the gold-light door. He’s left staring at the crushed cigarette laying on the ground, Gotham’s ambience at his back and a poem hanging in the air that he has no words for. It’s already there. Like stars on a painted ceiling.

And there are so many questions he needs answers for.

Like his ghost. His ghost.

What did Danny mean by his ghost?

Does he really want to kill the Joker himself? Was it just the grief talking? Jason knows — or thinks he knows — Danny like the palm of his hands. He’s been through everything with him, he’s seen him say something and then immediately follow through with it. He knows when he’s being serious, he knows when he’s not.

Danny wants to kill the Joker. Stealing is one thing; murder is another. And Danny wore a look on his face that looked like he meant it when he told Red Hood that he wanted to kill Joker. But saying and doing are two different things. Jason doesn’t know what to think.

Something old, something new. Danny is still the same, and yet he’s changed so much.

What did Danny mean by his ghost?

Jason doesn’t ever remember being a ghost. But Danny knows the Joker killed him. He knows how he killed him. Danny’s parents are ghost scientists, and Jason remembers the letter he got one day telling him about the portal they were building in the basement.

He remembers thinking about telling Bruce — this was something beyond the glowing green samples stored in the fridge, giving life to the food inside. This was beyond the weapons, the inventions they made that only saw the light of day when the Drs. Fenton brought them up to showcase them.

And he didn’t, because if he hadn’t told Bruce about everything before, he wasn’t going to start. He admits, it was part fear that Bruce might intervene and prevent him from seeing Danny that he didn’t.

Neither of them had expected it to work — but it sounds like it did.

(Jason has avoided Amity Park for a reason. He knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going there if he didn’t. But now, he just might have to look into it. He’s missed too much.)

And Danny wants to kill the Joker, and Jason isn’t sure if he means it or not. Because the look on his face when he said it is oh-so familiar. It’s the one he wore when he needed Jason to distract the clerk while he snuck behind the counter to steal cigarettes from the shelves. It was the one he wore when an older kid cornered them near one of Gotham’s many alleys, threatening them over something Jason can no longer remember clearly.

(He remembers puffing himself up, rearing for a fight. Danny, with glass in his teeth and blood between his fingers, lands a square kick to the spot between the kid’s legs. His knees hit the ground, and Danny’s hand found Jason’s to drag them both out of there.)

It’s the look of a boy, Gotham-touched grime in his soul, soft fingers turned calloused and scarred, about to do something he’s not going to regret. It’s the look of a boy that has set his mind to something and is going to do it. Some might call it the eyes of a cornered animal, but Danny’s never been cornered, not when Jason’s been with him.

(But Jason hasn’t been with him. Not for the last five years. So can he really say it wasn’t the eyes of a cornered animal?...Yes.)

Jason gets off the balcony before he can be seen, and he shouldn’t, but he loiters. He should get back to patrol, the night is never over. Not in Gotham. But he stays, hidden atop the roof nearby.

—---------------

An hour later, Danny walks out the doors with a man Jason recognizes as Vlad Masters — another new mystery for him to uncover. The paparazzi have long since left. Gotham’s nights are dangerous and everyone knows that, not even the vultures would stick around for a scoop, not unless there was something worth seeing.

A black limousine pulls up beside them, and Masters walks around the back to reach the other side. He’s bristled like an angry cat. “I thought I told you not to embarrass me.” He hisses, eyes snake-narrowed.

Danny, for the most part, just looks unbothered, his hands shoved into his pockets without a care. But he narrows his eyes right back, an expression made of stone. “You have a pretty low bar for what you think is embarrassing.”

Masters just scowls, “I don’t understand you, I would have thought you’d spend the whole time mingling with the Waynes, badger.” He says. Danny ruffles at the nickname, lips curling into a snarl. Jason finds himself unconsciously mimicking him. “And yet, I find you sequestered away in the corner like a little fly on the wall. Were they not up to your standards?”

‘Sequestered’ Danny mouths mockingly, eyes burning like he was going to claw his hand down Masters’ face. Instead, his hands dig into his arms. “I did talk to them, that’s more than I can say for you. You couldn’t even keep Mister Wayne’s attention for more than a minute.”

Jason frowns, and Masters scoffs, puffing up like an owl with its ego bruised. “Regardless, I am not the one losing here. Or did you forget what you promised me?”

Jason’s frown deepens. Danny doesn’t promise anything. At least, he doesn’t promise with just anyone. He deals; he repays; he indebts. But he does not promise. Promises were power, with only one side benefiting. It was trust to promise someone something. Danny doesn’t trust easily, neither of them do.

Something that hasn’t changed. Danny rears up angrily, mouth twisting, teeth baring, snarling out a fury sound. A wire cut live and sparking. He grabs the door handle and yanks it open harshly. “I didn’t promise you anything, Vlad.” He hisses, Jason strains to hear him. “I offered and you agreed. Do not fucking twist my words.”

There it is. Jason should’ve known better, guilt string-plucking in his chest for his doubt. Danny doesn’t promise things; not to people like this Masters guy, at least.

Danny grabs something from the car and throws himself back. “Don’t wait up.” He snarls, a wild thing just as Jason is, and yanks on a red hoodie over his arms. It zips up, and hangs off him, smothering the vest and button-up beneath. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Then he slams the door shut, shoulders hunched and with a scowl carved into his face. They’re both made of broken glass; independence — disobedience — and rebellion cut into them from every broken beer bottle shattered on the streets.

(Jason makes a mental note to look into Vlad Masters — Danny’s never told him about him, so they must have met after he died. The man leaves a rot in Jason’s mouth, and there is a greed festering inside him that Jason knows has left him in decay.)

(He doesn’t like how close Masters acts with him, doesn’t like the affiliations between them both. Masters reminds him of Luthor and every other rich socialite with their hands in something dirty. He hates even more that Danny is making deals with him. What has he missed?)

Jason follows after Danny, partially concerned that Danny is wandering Gotham alone. Regardless of what he can do, Gotham is still dangerous. It is bone-rotting, lung-choking and unforgiving. Danny knows this, Jason knows he does. He’s partially curious to know just where he’s going, and whether or not it was important enough to visit in the dead of Gotham’s bloody nights.

Danny surprises him — slipping between alleyways, sticking close to the shadows. Someone taught him how to be stealthy — or, at least, refined what stealth Danny already had. More new things that Jason needs to learn. More things he will never get to know.

Who taught you that?

Just what, exactly, have I missed?

I want to know everything.

Five years is a long, long time to be away from someone. If a caterpillar can become a butterfly in two weeks, then what can five years do to a human? It’s a long time to change, to become something else entirely. Jason’s become someone new, and he thinks, so has Danny.

Dread pools in his ribs, into his lungs, and weighs heavy on his heartstrings. The urge to drop down in front of Danny, to grab him by the arms and ask him to tell him everything, returns with a vengeance. This is why he avoided Amity Park.

Will I still know you like I used to? Jason trails behind Danny from the rooftops, like a ghost. Do you still love the stars? Do you still take tea over coffee? Will you tell me, if I ask?

And if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t ask, like he isn’t right now?

If he doesn’t ask about his ghost — something that still boggles his mind, because it means the Fentons were right and that portal might have worked, and Danny found Jason’s ghost? If he doesn’t ask what his ghost told him, if he told him anything else? Did his ghost tell you that he was Robin, like he always wanted to?

He will just have to keep his questions to himself. He will just have to tuck them into a folder in his mind, and file it under all of his other regrets.

He feels like he’s Robin again; keeping secrets and hiding things from his best friend because it simply wasn’t safe enough for him to know. It’s maddening.

Why has nothing changed since he died? Why has nothing changed, now that he was alive?

—---------------

Danny leads him to the Gotham Cemetery. Jason freezes outside the gates. Oh, he thinks.

Oh.

He thinks back to what he thought earlier.

What could possibly be so important that he’d go to it in the dead of Gotham’s night? The cemetery. Of course. Something old, something new, something bittersweet sets over his tongue that he swallows down.

Jason forces himself to follow.

“Hey.” Danny says as Jason settles behind a tree, voice gentle in foreign familiarity. He’s standing at Jason’s grave, his hands shoved into his pockets. The light is low but it doesn’t stop Jason from seeing the starlight-soft look in Danny’s eyes and his half-tilted smile, the smile that Jason is more familiar with than the wary scowls. “Sorry I’m late.”

Guiltish misery wraps its hands around Jason’s lungs. Pin-prickingly, stabbing at his heartstrings, Jason’s mouth moves on its own; “It’s okay.” but no sound comes out. Danny doesn’t hear him, and neither does Jason himself.

Danny sits down before Jason’s tombstone, groaning low and tiredly as his legs fold beneath him. He’s older than Jason, and immediately his mind switches over to all the jokes he used to lob him with.

(“Need help crossing the street, old man?” Jason, eight years old, asks with a grin so wide and painful across his face; giggles in his chest. He hooks his elbow with Danny, and keeps him tight against his ribs. “You’ll need all the help you can get in your ancient age.”)

(“I’m not that old.” Danny says, glaring at him before they scurry across the street with the light still green. Traffic laws are a joke in Crime Alley, it’s like a game of frogger as the sound of honking horns and screeching tires follows their heels. “We’re six months apart!”)

(“Six months and four days, actually.” Jason corrects when they reach the other side, snickering as they race down the sidewalk. Drivers lean out their windows and curse them out as they get away, Danny dodges an empty soda can thrown at his head. “Can’t forget the four days.”)

“I would’ve come sooner.” Danny tells him, pulling him from child-fuzzy memories and back into reality. Jason peers around the tree to see him running a hand through his hair, head ducked down. His palm splaying against his neck. “Sorry I didn’t. I got scared.”

Scared? Jason blinks, he leans against the bark and bumps his helmet against the wood. The thunk is loud in his ears, but Danny makes no indication that he heard. Of what?

But Danny doesn’t say what, he drops his hand and glances off to the side. He sits like a man who isn’t quite sure what to do, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes scrunched. Grief carves into the lines of his face like a sculptor carving into marble.

“I was gonna get you flowers on my way here.” Danny continues. His voice cracks, begins to wobble, and Jason sees Danny’s jaw tighten and his eyes close for a moment. When they open, there’s a wobbling sheen on his bottom lashes; tears threatening to bleed.

Danny flicks at the tears with the nail of his thumb, it does nothing. It just makes his breath hitch. “Um, but they- uh, didn’t have any open on the way here.” He says, giving Jason’s grave a tremulous smile. “Sorry, I’ll make sure to pick some up on my next visit.”

Next visit. Jason’s heart squeezes uncomfortably, before he reels at the words. Danny’s going to be visiting again, after five years of being out of Gotham? Next visit, why are you visiting again? Was this the reason he came to Bruce’s little charity ball with Vlad Masters? So that he could come visit Jason’s grave?

It couldn’t have been. There are other ways to get to Gotham that don’t require making deals with shady rich men. Danny’s smart, smarter than Danny himself gives him credit for. He’s brilliant. Why did he need Masters’ help to get him to Gotham?

There had to be another reason why.

God, there were so many questions that Jason wants the answers to. He’ll find them, one way or another.

But, he focuses in again. Danny is only here for the night. One night, and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. Jason wants to commit every detail of his best friend to memory before he leaves.

“You like zinnias, right?” Danny pets the grass at his side absently, and yes. Yes, Jason does, and Danny remembers. Even five years from his death, he remembers. Of course he does.

“Yeah, you do. You used to pick the petals up off the sidewalk from those uh, fuck — the vendors. The Victorian flower language too, I think. Got a book on that somewhere. I’ll get you red an’ yellow ones.”

Grief traps in Jason’s chest, and he barely tamps down the bitter laugh forcing itself out of the chokehold of his throat. You fucking sap, you big fuckin’ sap.

Red zinnias. Steadfast beating of the heart. The irony. It’s got double the meaning now, now that he’s alive. But Danny doesn’t know that, so the heart that’s beating could only belong to him. But even with Jason alive, he’s hiding. Between the both of them, the only one here with a beating heart is Danny.

(Between the two of them, the only heart here is one that's made between the two of them.)

Yellow zinnias. Daily remembrance. Of course. That doesn’t need any explanation, the writing is right there on the wall. Raised, so that even the blind may read it. It doesn’t need to be said what that means, Jason can hear it on the wind, in the grass, in the trees. His heart crumpling like a rag being twisted out to drain the dirty water soaking in it.

I miss you.

I’m right here. Is what Jason wants to say. It’s what he should say. He should step out from behind the tree; should speak up and say something. To announce his presence. To do something to let Danny know that he’s speaking to someone who is more than a ghost (who feels like one anyways) and a corpse in the ground.

Here I am. Here I am. HERE I AM.

His feet are gravebound to the dirt, his tongue cut out of his mouth and shoved into a jar. He feels, in some way, like he’s clawing out of his own grave again, but the dirt keeps falling and his arms are burning. His lungs are filled with more soil than air. He’s not getting out.

Shame burns cigarette smoke in the back of his throat, shriveling up what little remains of his tar-filled heart. It should be his lungs, and it’s got that too. His feet are grave-bound to the floor.

Danny’s begun to cry, much to Jason’s horror. It should be more incentive for Jason to step out. He doesn’t. His best friend sniffles and scrubs at his face, soaking tears into his hoodie’s sleeve. “I’m sorry for not visitin’ sooner,” he says, voice spiraling with grief, “I don’t have an excuse. I should’ve come sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Don’t be, Jason thinks. Finds himself surprised by the truth of it. He should be upset. Five years and not a single visit. He abandoned him like everyone else. Except he didn’t.

He’s not upset, he can’t be. Not when Danny’s finally here. Not when he’s still crying over him five years after the fact. Not when he’s going to put flowers on his grave that means he thinks of him daily. Not when Danny knows who killed him and wants him dead.

Jason isn’t sure of what to think of that still. He wants Bruce to kill the Joker. More importantly he wants change in Gotham. He wants something to be done. He doesn’t know if Danny is being honest or not — and honesty doesn’t mean anything if someone doesn’t act on it.

Danny continues talking to his grave, his voice full with sorrow. He talks about the gala, about running into Bruce and talking to him again.

Jason listens in dutiful silence, soaking in Danny’s voice like a sponge. This is what he was expecting on the balcony; this easy conversation. Except it’s not a conversation, Danny is talking and not expecting a response. Jason feels like a stranger imposing on his own grave.He should slink away, let Danny have his peace on his own.

He refuses to move. He can’t bring himself to.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he's sitting in front of him. He can pretend he’s thirteen again, with him and Danny crawled under the bed at the manor and trading all the stories they couldn’t fit in their letters. Danny tells him about another fight he had with Dash Baxter, eyes rolling but smug teeth flashing in a stifled smile. Then he tells him about something Sam and Tucker did; about one of Sam’s protests she led against the biology lab, and Tucker coding his PDA to play Doom. Easy, stupid middle schooler shit.

They’d sneak out to the balcony for their vices, Danny clutching a carton of cheap cigarettes in hand. Alfred always finds the ones Jason hides, so they usually share whenever Danny comes to visit. Jason tells him about Gotham Academy, about the people there and the classes. Prep school is another beast entirely, he likes seeing Danny’s reactions to the politics that goes on inside.

Or, further back, they’re eight again, climbing a rickety fire escape to the rooftop and hanging their feet over the edge to find Batman and Robin. Danny was in the lead before he left for Amity Park. Jason remembers it clearly; they’d spent all night outside on that rooftop.

Jason doesn’t close his eyes.

Jazz decided to change career goals; psychology’s become more of a hobby for her, and she’s going to go to med school instead. She’s thinking of doing an internship in Metropolis. Danny says he’s glad that it’s not Gotham, and when he told Jazz this, she laughed at him and told him that she was going to save that for later.

She’s Gotham-touched too, she knows it’s blood just as much as Danny does. She wants to help the people there, but knows what Gotham’s like. She knows what she can and cannot do. Determination doesn’t equate skill, it just means the willingness to learn.

Sam is staying in Amity Park and doing online classes for college, but Tucker got a full ride scholarship in software engineering. Danny’s thick with pride as he tells Jason’s headstone. Jason’s happy for him — they weren’t close, not like he and Danny were, but they were still friends.

Jason soaks it all in; tell him more. He wants to know everything.

"I don't know what I want to do." Danny says when he’s finally done talking about everyone else, his chin laying on his knees. “S’not like I can be an astronaut anymore, but there’s not anything I can see myself doing.”

The corner of his mouth coils, sardonic. “I’ve had five years to come up with somethin’ new, and I’ve come up with nothin’ at all.” He huffs. It’s a rough, bitter sound. Gotham has been steadily seeping back into his voice since he arrived in the graveyard, and now it comes out thick, like it never left.

Danny’s face falls slack, like a puppet losing its strings, and he sinks into himself. “I guess I…” He exhales slow. “I’ve just been distracted.” A faraway glaze eclipses his eyes, and before they close, tears begin to bleed onto his eyelids. Again, grief mars the lines of his skin, settling into the curve of his mouth and threading between his brows like second nature.

Fuck, it’d be so easy for Jason to just step out. Move. His best friend is grieving. He could save him the pain of it and tell him now. Move, move, move.

He doesn’t move.

For a while, there’s nothing but silence, just Jason hiding in his shame; a rat on the street would be bolder than him. Danny’s eyes don’t open. Eventually, his head tilts and slumps into his knees, Jason almost thinks, somehow, that he’s fallen asleep — but Danny’s hand threads into the hair on the back of his head, his finger beginning to tap an invisible beat into his skull.

It’s the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. Danny’s distracted; lost in his thoughts. He won’t notice if Jason slinks off now. He could go and hide away on a roof nearby, ensuring that Danny gets his rightful privacy without leaving him to the teeth of the streets.

Jason still doesn’t move.

Danny begins to hum. It’s a low, breathy sound, and it shakes unevenly. There’s no discernible melody, but a breeze picks it up and travels it through the air anyway, rooting Jason to his spot. His throat swells, and his back sinks into the bark behind him.

For a full minute, maybe two, Danny just hums. It’s a simple tune, but it fills the graveyard with the sound. When it goes up, he sharpens, when he goes down again, it flats, and sometimes it wobbles.

When he lifts his head, when he finally opens his eyes, he’s still humming. Soon it dies down, and the next time Danny exhales, it comes out tumultuous and slow. His hand slips heavy from his head and drops into the grass.

“Where’d you go, Jay?” Danny mutters, and despite his voice coming flat, he still sounds so tired. Danny’s eyes flick up, lifting off the grass to burn into the headstone. He’s not even looking at him, and yet Jason still freezes up, he still feels pinned under the weight of his stare. “I know you’re still out there, somewhere. I know it.”

Jason breathes in shakily, a sting deep in the back of his throat. He gives no answer; guilt is an animal with claws, and it burrows deep into Jason’s heart to make itself a home between the tendons. He’s right here.

Silence falls over them again, and this time it’s only the sound of the city around them that bleeds into the air. Danny stares at Jason’s grave, staring like he’s expecting an answer. He doesn’t get one.

Danny sighs out low, and stands. His knees tremble slightly, and he rubs his sleeve into his eyes, catching the stray tears falling from his lashes. Like breaking a spell, Jason jolts from the fog of sorrow hanging in the air.

“I’ll see you later, an’ I’ll make sure to bring you those flowers you like.” He tells him, and miraculously, a shadow of a smile flits over Danny’s mouth. “Y’better be here when I get back, alright? I’ll kick y’fucking ass if you’re not.”

Jason bites back a huff, his mouth upturning in a wobble. I will, he thinks, and watches Danny trail out of the graveyard with his hands in his pockets. He waits until he’s disappeared behind the gate before following.

Guilt is a thing with claws, and Jason leaves the cemetery with it eating his tongue. But he makes sure Danny gets back to his hotel safe before he slinks back to Crime Alley; he might not be a ghost anymore, but he can still trail behind Danny like he is.

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

ayy i finally got chapter 2 of CFAU/TMWS edited/redone! It had to get rewritten because a lot of stuff became obsolete in the wake of the new chapter 1. and also it just kinda. fucking sucked imo lmao

(you can also read it here on my ao3!)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #cw swearing #dpxdc crossover #childhood friends au #cfau #dead on main #dp x dc fanfic #dpxdc fanfic #dpdc #banshee danny fenton #got to let jason be Slightly More Unhinged about Danny in this version which i had fun with. i love writing unhealthy attachments it just #adds a little spice ✨ im like an evil scientist marveling over their unethical creation. someone call me olivia octavia #fun fact that i learned recently: jazz also wanted to be also be an accountant or a brain surgeon! so she's getting a little break from #being the Therapist Friend. :]#jason @ danny: whose hurt you. tell me i'll kill them. talk to me tell me everything. don't leave my side please.#danny would be pr similar if he knew red hood was jason :P. uhh. after the initial shock wore off.

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writingsfromhome · 2 years ago

Text

Three’s Company

A/N: I tried to balance some angst with fluff, hope I did it right lol. You’re dating Harry’s best friend but you and Harry are also best friends. Until he confesses a secret. I think this one got long but I wrote it quickly so don’t mind any mistakes. hope everyone enjoys it! Happy holidays :) <3

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“Me and my boys,” I wrap one arm around my boyfriend Frank and the other around my best mate, Harry. “I’m so glad you guys showed tonight!”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Harry squeezes my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you,” Frank pulls me away from Harry into his arms. He plants a very wet kiss on me. “You’ve worked so hard these last few months.”

“I know,” I take my boyfriend’s face in my hands. “Thanks for supporting me.”

“Ahem,” Harry clears his throat. “I was also up at 2am helping you practice lines.”

“Of course,” I plant a kiss on Harry cheeks. “Couldn’t have done it without either of your support.”

I link my hand through Frank’s and we continue the trek to the pub. It was opening day for the musical I was apart of and it was the first major production. Everytime I caught my face on a tube poster, advertising the show, I couldn’t help the giddy rush of warmth that filled me. It was always my dream to be on stage and I finally had it.

“So this girl you’re seeing,” Frank addresses Harry who is walking a few steps ahead on his phone. “You serious about her?”

“Think so,” Harry says. My heart flutters at the thought of him finally settling down, not because I was jealous but the last time he got serious with a girl was a year ago. Even though by then Frank and I had been going steady for 4 years she hadn’t liked our relationship and ended it with him when he wouldn’t cut me off. I didn’t want that to happen to him again.

“Good for you,” Frank says. We share a glance, having had many concerned conversations about Harry’s love life. Even though we were only in our mid-20s, Harry never quite got serious about a girl. We just wanted to see him happy.

Harry’s girlfriend meets us at the pub, she couldn’t come to the show because she had a shift which she tells me when we meet her. Harry had already told me this but I think it’s endearing how much she cares, she tells me she’ll go to the next one Harry shows up for.

“I like her,” I tell Harry later.

“That’s because she’s flattering you,” Harry says as he gets the both of them drinks. “You’re so easy to win over.”

“You’re just jealous we’re getting along,” I tease but he rolls his eyes at me and goes back to the table. I get drinks for Frank and I since he was deep in conversation with someone he knew.

“How long have you two been going out for?” I ask the couple. “Harry only mentioned you a couple weeks ago.”

“Really?” Natalie looks up at Harry.

“Not like that,” Harry flicks my shoulder. “I just didn’t want them sticking their nose in my business. Her and Frank love to interrogate me about my love life.”

“Only cuz we care,” I shrug.

“We started dating April so…almost 2 months?” Nat answers. My jaw drops.

“2 months Harry? And you never said anything?!”

“It’s my life!”

“I tell you everything!”

“I never ask,” Harry shakes his head and turns to Nat. “She’s an oversharer.”

She laughs, “Speaking of sharing remind me how you all met? Harry only said you all met in uni.”

“Harry sucks at stories,” I lean in closer to her so I don’t have to shout so loud. I tell her how Harry and I had met at a school-sponsored concert. We recognized each other from a few classes. We started hanging out a lot to study and party. How he had introduced me to Frank a couple weeks after we met and we hit it off. It took us another semester of circling each other and Harry playing the third wheel for us to finally get together. Frank and I have been together since and Harry has been our best mate since too.

“That’s so sweet,” she squeezes his arm. “You’ll be their best mate at their wedding, godfather to their child, third-wheel for life?”

“Harry looks a bit pale at that,” I joke but he did look paler. “Don’t worry, Frank will still come over to play video games.”

Nat and I laugh and Harry joins but it sounds forced. He was such a weirdo.

“We always say three’s company when it comes to us, right Harry?” I reference the slogan we came up for ourselves. “We won’t forget about Harry when we tie the knot!”

Frank joins us, interrupting anything Harry would’ve said. We all get to knowing each other. I really like Natalie, and Frank tells me later at home that he got a good feeling about her too. It’s unfortunate when a month or so later Harry tells us they broke up.

What comes as the biggest shock is a couple months after that, on an oddly sunny day in October Frank tells me he wanted to break up. Right before my last few weeks. He doesn’t even wait for my run to be over. And just like that, 5.5 years vanish in front of my eyes.

The cherry on top is when Harry stops talking to me as much, starts making excuses for why he can’t hang out. Even though we were mates before Frank and I got together, he seems to have chosen sides. Those weeks feel like my own personal horror movie. I’m a zombie in my day-to-day and when I go on stage I use up every ounce of energy and emotion I have to make my last performances count. But it tears a hole right through me.

The week after Frank and I breakup I bump into Harry near his work. Well, I actually purposely made an appointment close to where he worked in hopes of seeing him.

“H!” I call out when I spot his side profile on the same sidewalk as me. “Harry!”

He does a double take and then halts, people around him grumbling as they walk around. I pull him to the side and give him a big hug. I try not to let it hurt when his arms are slow to go around me.

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, how’ve you been?” I put on a brave voice even though all I want to do is cry.

“Ehm,” he looks uncomfortable but he smiles down at me. “I’m good, I’ve been slammed at work sorry Y/N I’ve been meaning to see you.”

“Yeah,” I wait for him to give me more. The silence stretches out until he fills it.

“I’m really sorry about Frank and you I…I didn’t even know he was going to do that.”

“That makes two of us,” I try to joke but it’s too fresh and my voice cracks. Harry looks away.

“How’s your show going?”

“I’m on two more weeks and then I’m back to auditioning for majority of my days.”

“No callbacks from the other places?”

“Not yet.”

We stand in awkward silence and I want to scream. We were so easy, why was Harry being so weird? It’s not like Frank was the glue that held us together. And now the irritation begins to creep in as Harry continues being standoffish.

“What’s been going on with you?” I try.

“Not much, still trying the dating scene.” He sighs. “And working. My sister’s throwing this Halloween thing even though we’re all adults. I think she’s trying to set me up with one of her mates.”

“Just dress up like a sexy lamp, no one will want to come near you.”

“A sexy lamp?” Harry laughs and finally, finally looks at me.

“Beauty and the Beast? I saw it online when I was looking at costumes. I felt like I was in some twisted alternate universe where people are trying to be a sexy lamp.”

“Have you seen a Christmas Story?” Harry asks and I laugh so hard at that, it feels so good.

“Oh my god,” I wipe away my tears. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

Harry’s cheeks are pink from the cold and the way he looks at me with pity and sadness drops coal into my stockings. How could he look at me like that? He was my best mate, I wasn’t some sorry damsel with a broken fucking heart.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been as available,” he finally says to me.

“Yeah,” I shrug. What else was I supposed to say? Well what I really wanted to do was get angry like everything was normal, but it didn’t feel like the right time.

We stand like that in silence until he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ears and it must be from being so touch, and friend, starved the last couple weeks that I sigh when he does it. He shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat.

“I should get going before the tube is sardines.”

“Right,” I say with a hard edge. Harry could tell I was getting upset but I didn’t care.

“I like the new hair by the way,” Harry says as he side steps me and becomes one with the crowd.

And even though he was sorry, he doesn’t message me to hang out or to ask how I’m doing. He abandons me too, only responding when I message him. I wasn’t giving up on him though even though it hurt to know he had given up on me. I couldn’t lose my best friend just because I’d lost my boyfriend.

***

“Hey Harry, I know you’ve been busy lately but my last show is this Thursday. In case you wanted to come see it. It’s gotten a lot smoother since that first one you went to hahahah…anyway. I left your name at the door if you can make it. I hope you can.”

I leave the voicemail on Monday and hope Harry can do it. I’ve had family come down to the city to see me, and friends show up here and there. But the people I thought would show up for my first and last performance are suddenly just gone from my life. If I could go back in time to the first show I’d tell myself to hold on tight because everyone would leave me.

Between practice and evening shows I don’t hear back from Harry. No text, voicemail, or message anywhere. My last night I get into character with a heart made of lead and tissue permanently pressed to my waterline so my mascara doesn’t run. I’d save my tears for the show itself.

As I secure my wig to my head a knock come from my dressing room door.

“It’s open,” I call, expecting the stage manager or my agent or a cast member. Harry walks in instead.

“Harry! You’re here!” I’m not even thinking as I rush to him and throw my arms around him. He’s slow to wrap his around me again and that’s when reality crashes back down. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Yeah I wouldn’t miss it,” Harry sits down on a nearby chair. “I know I was supposed to come to a lot more but…”

“You’re here now,” I beam, willing to put the past aside for now. “None of my family could make it tonight, it was going to be sort of depressing for me.”

“Drinks are on me,” Harry says. “I can’t believe my best mate’s done a whole season on broadway.”

“Right!?” I’m more excited of being called his best mate than doing the whole season. As I sit back down to do my wig I keep an eye on H through the mirror.

“So,” I start out tentatively. “Hear from Frank lately?”

“Hm,” he looks up from his phone. “I’m not going to be the messenger between you two.”

“What?! Of course not, jeez H I was only asking if he’s doing okay. I’m not like, thinking he’s somehow going to un-breakup with me.”

“I saw him last weekend. He’s alright, his new flat’s not too far from me actually.”

“That’s good,” I say. So he really did take Harry with him in the split. I can’t help but push more, I turn in my seat to face him.

“I know we haven’t spoken ever since shite hit the fan between Frank and me. But we’re still okay, right? We were always friends before you introduced me to Frank and I hope you don’t feel like you have to take sides.”

“What? No, nothing like that,” he looks cornered. He tugs his sleeve over his hand, not making eye contact.

“Okay...” I couldn’t interpret his body language. “Okay, it seems like you’re annoyed or something? Like, you want to leave this conversation. Did I say something?”

“No,” he shakes his head, his hair moving with the aggressive shake.

“So what is it?” I can hear the annoyance creeping into my own voice. “Did Frank say something about me? Why do you seem so cagey? What’s going on Harry?”

“I’m not-I’m not cagey,” he scoffs, straightening to his full height. “I just don’t feel like talking.”

“So Frank said something-”

“No! I just don’t care to have this conversation.”

“Oh,” my eyes sting. “So that’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Frank and I break up and so do we? You don’t want to talk anymore?”

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Well it sounded a lot like that,” I hold up my hand. “Don’t try to backtrack. I thought we were best friends Harry, nothing was supposed to change between us just because Frank and I are on bad terms-”

“But that’s the thing!” Harry shouts. “That’s the thing--everything’s changed! Everything, Y/N...look, I don’t want to talk about this!”

“I do!” I push back, interested in what he meant. “What changed? I don’t understand, and I want to talk about it! I can’t lose my boyfriend and my best friend in the same week! Nothing should change between us, Frank has nothing to do with us!”

Harry looks puzzled as his eyes fix on my face. I raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t speak. “What?”

“You’ve never...” he drags his hand down his face. “Y/N, I don’t want to talk about this. For our friendship’s sake, I can’t talk about this.”

“For our friendship’s sake?!” I exclaim. “I need to talk about this! You’re my best friend! Or so I thought.”

“No!” Harry finally snaps. “I don’t want to talk about this! You think Frank and you breaking up shouldn’t change our dynamic, change us, but of course it fucking does. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

I catch his arm as he tries to walk away, nearly being dragged with him as he rushes away. “Explain, Harry please explain. I don’t get it!”

“Fuck Y/N,” Harry talks with his back to me. I drop his arm. “Frank was the only thing that helped keep you in the friendzone. When you’re not his girlfriend...I don’t know what we are.”

I don’t know what to say, Ifeel like the wind’s been knocked out of me. “So all these years...you were just hanging around me because you wanted to be something more? Was our whole friendship a lie?”

“Of course not, what?” Harry finally turns. “You’re my best friend, you always have been. But by the time I decided to do something about my crush, you confessed to me that you really liked my best friend. And I could tell Frank was really happy around you. I loved both of you, I couldn’t get in between that.”

“So what, you’ve just been...secretly resenting us every time we all hung out? Punishing yourself everytime you third-wheel us?”

“No, no no this isn’t how...that’s not how it’s been.”

“What the fuck Harry?” I cry. “You’ve been secretly pining after your best friend’s girlfriend for years?”

“I know it’s fucked up!” Harry shouts. “I know I’m fucked up for wanting my best friend’s girlfriend I know! You don’t have to spell out how fucked up it is!”

“What the fuck,” I whisper.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Harry’s face crumples. “Please, Y/N that’s just what I was trying to say. When you were with Frank, I could hang out with you—with the both of you and not care because you two made each other so happy how could I come in between the happiness of the two people I loved the most in the world?

But now that you two have broken up, there’s no red light there. There’s nothing to stop me from kissing you. I mean, consent obviously…” He corrects himself, sighing. “I know, I know. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. But you always know how to pull anything out of me.”

“I wish you were better equipped against me,” I slide down the wall. “This is so fucked up, I wish I could un-know that.”

“Is it so bad?” Harry’s gaze burns a hole through me. “Do you hate me?”

“No, I couldn’t...” how could I hate him when my intention the first night we ever met was to hook up with him. Things only changed when I met his best friend. “I don’t hate you, I just don’t know where we go from here.”

“I just need some space,” Harry says. “I think you probably need some too, now that that confession’s out of the box.”

“Shit,” I bury my face in my hands.

“I promise, we can go back to being best friends.” Harry continues. “I just need to figure out, where to put you. In my head...in my heart.”

I don’t say anything, I could barely look at him. To think he had this in him for as long as I’ve known him. It feels a bit like maybe I never knew him.

“I’ll be in the audience…break a leg Y/N.”

I hear the door close behind him but I can’t get up. I stay curled on the floor until a knock reminds me there’s 5 minutes ‘til positions. Shit.

I finish my hair and do some breathing exercises. I had to compartmentalize and use the emotions in the show just like my coach taught me.

“You’re okay,” I tell myself in the mirror. “You’re going to kill it. You’re okay. You can deal with everything later. Just do your best now.”

With one final breath I exit my room and get out there, putting on my best performance. And I guess the crazy heightened emotions help because the final reviews rave about my intensity. And while I curl up in bed that night sobbing myself to sleep, my inbox finally fills with open offers and auditions. This heartbreaking period opened a door to something new.

Two months later:

As a child, I always wanted to be in New York City during Christmas. Every movie made it look magical and wistful.

It was magical, in the right spots. And I couldn’t deny the magnetic pulse that surrounded the place. But it was also cold, incredibly cold, lonely, and dirty.

“Hey,” my roomate calls out when I enter our flat. Or apartment. “You got some mail I slipped it under your door.”

“Thanks,” I unwrap my massive scarf and heavy coat. “It’s so bloody cold out there.”

“It’s just starting,” she glances away from the TV to our window. Small flakes were starting to fall, it felt like looking at a snow globe.

She goes back to watching TV and I head to my room. It was smaller than the one I had back home but I’d decorated with fuzzy rugs and cozy comforters and furry blankets. And now I looked forward to it every day.

During the day I was practicing for my second ever show. After my intense performance on my last day, I was invited to audition for &Juliet which was moving to NYC. If they liked me, my flight would be paid for and I would join them in the Big Apple. Luckily, they liked me enough to offer one of the roles a couple weeks later. It wasn’t too major, but big enough that I had scenes throughout the musical. After what had happened the past months I thought fuck it and went.

It might seem like I was running away from my life but I saw it as a clean start. Big breakup, end of my show’s season, and a truth that shattered my core. I couldn’t stay in London.

I hadn’t told him. Harry. After everything I didn’t think I had to. He wanted space, I needed the same thing.

But it was lonely living in a new city with no connection to back home. Sure I talked to family and friends regularly, I hung out with my roomate and went out for drinks with my cast mates. But the people—the person who knew me better than I knew myself, well he was gone.

Frank had messaged me a few weeks ago when I posted on my story about New York. I didn’t have that big of a following but anyone who liked me in my last roles tended to stay on and follow my journey. So I used social media as an online journal.

It had been surprisingly courteous. He’d congratulated me, and said if he was ever in the city he would book tickets to see me. It was kind. And I don’t know if the shock of Harry’s truth was bigger than the breakup, or if enough time passed for me not to feel as hurt about it, but I liked talking to Frank just as a friend.

That’s what he asked me when we broke up—if we could still be friends. I thought it was so selfish and dickish to ask but now, I warmed up to the idea.

The opening show was booked for the beginning of January so I couldn’t go home for Christmas. I knew it was going to be lonely but a few of my castmates invited me to their Christmas eve dinner. It seemed like a lot of New York was made up of found family. I was still finding mine.

***

“Two weeks until our first show,” Nolan drops his head down on the table.

“You’ll get it,” Christa pats him on the back. “He’s just hard on you because he wants you to be your best.”

“That one fucking line!” Nolan kept missing his cue on his final line and it had been haunting him.

“What could help?” Ravi joins us with the coffees he promised. It was a 8am rehearsal today and we were all beat from last night’s rehearsal.

“I’m close to you,” I offer. “I could cue you somehow if it helps?”

“Yeah?” Nolan look up. “Maybe, let’s try that. Something subtle.”

“Yeah!” Christa lights up.

“Okay,” I feel good inside, having made a good contribution. Sometimes I felt like an outsider coming into this production so late, it felt like everyone was already familir with everyone else. And I had the least experience out of everyone. It was hard not to feel like an imposter.

“You’re a natural,” Ravi hands me a coffee. “Don’t worry too much Y/N. I see the gears turning in your head.”

“Yeah everyone already loves you.” Christa pipes in. “You gotta relax.”

“I try!” I roll back my shoulders. The role meant a lot to me. “I just want to do my best.”

“You are,” she lays a hand on my shoulder. “You know you’ll get told off if you weren’t.”

“So Y/N is joining us for Christmas?” Ravi asks.

“I think so?” Christa raises an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m not going home this year.”

“Feel free to invite a plus-one,” Christa says.

“Oh,” I plat with the lid of my cup. “Probably won’t.”

“No boyfriends?” Nolan asks. “Girlfriends?”

“Nolan,” Christa scolds. He shrugs.

“No I,” this was awkward. “I had a breakup before I finished my last show. I haven’t really been eager to jump into a new one.” Especially when Harry’s confession always lingers in the back of my mind. Damn him.

“You ran away.” Nolan states like it’s fact.

“No!” I argue. “It was like over a month later. Plus we started reconnecting again-“

“Nope. Don’t go there,” Christa warns. “Never walk back into the past.”

“My fiancé and I broke up once and we’re getting married next summer,” Ravi jumps in.

“Don’t listen to him,” Christa waves her hand in his face. “He’s an anomaly.”

“Who are you calling anomaly?” Ravi asks. We laugh as the insults go flying between them and a small part of me is relieved to not be on the outside looking in like I did when I first arrived.

“I’m not getting back together with him, plus there’s so much distance.” I reassure the group.

Plus Frank literally said he didn’t feel the same way about me anymore. After 5 years together, he’d fallen out of love somewhere along the way. It was hurtful, and I don’t think he would go back on his word. I don’t think I’d want to take him back anymore.

It hits me then, both of the boys I loved so dearly were lying along the way. One said he loved me even though deep inside he was falling out of love. The other loved me more than a friend, but only called me his best friend.

“You alright?” Nolan asks. The group had left me while I sat in thought, everyone was getting into places.

“Yeah,” I reach for his hand and he helps me up. “Just thinking.”

We get into place and with direction, begin rehearsal for the day. I get lost in it, one of my favourite things to do.

***

“Flowers!” One of the PAs drops a bouquet onto my table as I finish setting my makeup in place. All the moving and the harsh stage lighting made it sweaty, and I couldn’t risk my makeup running.

“I don’t think…” I stop as I notice it was my name on the card. Who would send me flowers on opening? My family already wished me luck on facetime and the few friends in the city were here for the show. I turn the card around.

I already know it’s going to be fantastic but break a leg anyway xx

I read it again. It sounded like Frank, he thought everything was fantastic. Maybe he remembered opening night.

I smell the flowers, another cast mate who shared my room strikes up a conversation about them and I finish my hair to it. We go out together and I feel my heart in my throat. The last time I had all my support in the second row. This time, they were an ocean away and my heart ached thinking about them.

Channel your emotions. Channel your emotions.

I repeat the mantra, and when it’s my cue I break out on stage and wait a beat. Then start my line.

I don’t have a moment to actually look at the audience until my second-last scene. That’s when I notice them. Frank. And Harry.

“Count…me in!” I stumble on a line. Shit. Shitshitshit.

I look back at Christa and continue our lines but her eyebrow dips for a moment and I know she caught it too. I just hoped our director wouldn’t point it out.

Harry and Frank were here. Harry and Frank were here? Don’t think about it. Can’t think about it.

“A strong woman,” I respond to Nolan. I nudge him like we’d practiced and his final line comes tumbling out. I send out a prayer that it was smooth.

I go off stage for a few until my next scene and catch my breath.

“What happened?” Nolan asks. “I thought I heard you almost forget a line.”

“I saw someone in the audience, wasn’t expecting…” i trail off as I hear my cue. “Talk later!”

I rush back on and finish up. It’s exhilerating and just like that I can’t believe our first show is done!

We stay on for the final bits, the final bow, and then I’m rushing to my room for my phone. Did Frank message me? Did I miss something?

But it’s empty.

The other girls in the room trickle in and we all congratulate each other. They go over some of their lines and areas they almost messed up in. I’m too distracted by everything to join fully.

I try to engage but I’m mostly wiping away my stage makeup so I can head out. I don’t know if I wanted to avoid who I just saw or find them.

If you avoid them, then you really are running away.

Ugh. I would have to find them some way. I leave Frank a message and go back to the conversation.

Eventually, with dread weighing me down, I agree to meet the boys where Frank texted me. They were staying at a hotel a few blocks away and there was a bar in the lobby they said was nice.

Frank stands as soon as he sees me, Harry’s back is to me so he’s slow to stand.

“Y/N you were bloody fantastic!” Frank wraps me in his arms and it’s been so long that I squeeze him extra hard. I missed him, or maybe I just missed being held.

“Thank you!” I say into his shoulder. I let go and look between the two. “What are you two doing here? You didn’t just come for me right? Because that’s insane. I…”

“Well kind of,” Frank admits.

“That’s…too much!” I imagine the cost of everything and cringe that they paid that much to see me.

“Well Harry started dating a pilot,” Frank says proudly. Harry doesn’t meet my eye. “So we practically flew for pennies!”

“Oh wow!” I lean into Frank’s arm around my back. It was probably bad, but it felt good here. Except for the massive awkward block that was Harry. “I don’t know what to say I really didn’t expect-“

“I know.” Frank laughs. I missed that laugh. “We caught you by surprise, I saw it on your face right Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry forces a laugh. “We felt bad. Didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

“It’s not the first time,” I tell him and he catches my double meaning because he stares at me. I raise my eyebrows and he looks away, back at Frank.

“Can I have a moment?” I turn to Frank. “With Harry?”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Of course.”

We stand awkwardly as Frank doesn’t leave. He looks to the side like he usually does when he’s trying to say something. “Look Y/N, I know after our breakup our group just fell apart. But don’t blame Harry. He was caught in the middle, he told me you were mad at him. Be mad at me instead-“

“Thanks. Frank.” Harry cuts his best friend off. “Don’t worry mate, we just need to talk.”

I keep my eyes trained on Harry as Frank moves away. I take his seat at the bar and wait for Harry to take his.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Why did you disappear?” He asks back.

“You wanted space. Wasn’t that good for us?”

“I meant time, like time away. Not move to bloody America.”

“Well I had an opportunity and I took it!”

“Yeah well,” Harry takes a swig of his drink. “I’m glad you did. You were phenomenal out there. I’m proud of you.”

My heart softens a bit when he says it, so does his face. I can’t take my eyes off him, he made me so mad but I missed him so much. This was the longest we’d been away from each other with no contact.

“I missed you,” he finally says just as I go in on him.

“How did you come here? With Frank? After what you told me?” I missed him too, but I wanted answers. How could someone be in love with their best friend’s girlfriend, and fool both parties by being so casual around them all the time. How could he look at Frank in the face???

“So I guess you didn’t miss me,” Harry tries teasing.

“Obviously I did. Not the point though.” I scowl when Harry smiles. But the smile relaxes his face and my heart skips a beat.

“He doesn’t know. Doesn’t need to know. Just like you didn’t need to until you forced it out of me. I didn’t do anything wrong Y/N. You can’t treat me like I did something awful, I just had feelings for you.”

Had.

“Okay,” I take Harry’s drink from his side since I hadn’t ordered mine yet and down it in one gulp. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry takes the empty glass from me. “The space was good.”

“Okay,” I feel slightly offended, but I decide to ignore it. I find Frank by the window and wave him over. He comes back with a grin that I can’t help but mirror.

“So how’s the new job?” I ask him once we all find seats. We’d been talking back and forth online, I knew all about his life without me. He knew all about mine.

“Really good,” Frank lights up. “I finally get my own office! It’s small but nice! I’m getting a good feeling from my team too, it’s good.”

“Good feeling from the team?” Harry smirks at Frank and Frank blushes.

“What?” I look between then. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Frank says quickly. “Harry thinks the team has a lot of good looking people. He’s trying to start a fire.”

“Ah,” I look at Harry but he’s staring at his drink. He was trying to start a fire, but it didn’t bother me. Although Frank and I never shared romantic updates, as time went on, the thought of him moving on felt less and less awful. Even though it was a bit bitter to think about, it was over.

“What’s with the pilot girlfriend? Where’d you find her?” I ask.

“Work conference, she was at the bar.” Harry tells me. “She flies a lot, but she’s funny. I like her.”

“Good,” I try to stay neutral even though a confusing wave of emotions washes up. “Good to know you’re still keeping that string of girlfriends.”

“Speaking of,” Harry ignores me and pulls his phone out of his jacket. “She’s free now. We have plans. It was good seeing you Y/N. We’ll catch dinner later?”

“Oh,” I wasn’t expecting him to leave so soon. “Yeah sure-“

“Yeah we’re here until Thursday.” Frank tells me. “If not tomorrow whenever you’re free.”

“Yeah!” I wasn’t expecting to be alone with Frank tonight.

“If it’s just the two of us,” Frank reaches over to my chair and pulls it closer. “Come in so I can hear you better.”

“Okay!” I felt confused, and lonely. And that was dangerous. I just couldn’t get drunk otherwise I might make bad decisions.

I stop Frank after another drink and tell him I should get home so I wasn’t hungover for tomorrow’s show.

But I’m so tired I fall asleep as soon as I get in bed. I want to sort out what just happened tonight but I save it for the daytime.

***

“You weren’t there for first show drinks!” My castmate calls out the next day. I was in to go over some lines and changes, and apparently mostly everyone had gone out for drinks to celebrate last night. I was too busy catching up my past.

“Had some guests in town,” I mumble.

“Guests?” Nolan asks curiously.

“Some friends came in to see the show,” I try to act casual.

“Just some friends? Flew halfway across the world? They’re just friends?”

“Need me some of those friends.”

“Well,” I had a bunch of nosy castmates. “One’s my ex. The other one is my best friend. Alright?”

“Alright now it gets juicy,” Christa comes up beside me. “I thought this ex was in the past-“

“Please don’t judge me,” I squirm. “Just…we were all catching up that’s all! Now. I’m going to go get ready.”

“Touchy,” I hear someone say as I head to my shared dressing room.

I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone because I didn’t know what to say. My ex came to town and it was dangerously good seeing him. My estranged best friend was also here, oh yeah he’s been in love with me the whole time, and then skipped out early for his girlfriend. Then why show up at all? Ugh. It was making me very confused and I had to focus.

It’s quick touch-ups and placement changes and then I’m on stage for our second show. It’s smoother and there are more people tonight. I loved the exhilarating feeling of being on stage. It was incomparable.

I politely decline Frank’s request for meeting up tonight with him and Harry, so he doesn’t have to play the third wheel. I needed some alone time and doing the shows was tiring.

I take a much needed shower at home and continue thinking about the show, the boys, and why I couldn’t stop obsessing over them!

After Sunday’s show, I agree to dinner with Harry and Frank. Apparently they’d been exploring the city, and Harry had gotten a new tattoo. He proudly displays it at dinner.

“Looks sore,” I appreciate the line design. Frank’s using the toilet and we peruse the menu while we wait.

“A bit but I’m taking care of it,” Harry flips over his menu.

“Your girlfriend isn’t joining?”

“I’m meeting up with her later,” Harry glances at me. “Why? D’you want to meet her or something?”

“N-no?” What the hell. “She probably won’t last long anyway, what’s the point.”

“Really, again Y/N?” Harry puts his menu down.

“What!? You never keep a girlfriend for very long. I meet one, then I’m meeting another.”

“Piss off,” his face turns pink and I’m surprised how easily this is getting under his skin. I always used to tease him about how quickly he turned over girlfriends. “The girlfriend jokes stopped being funny. And at least I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“What the hell?” Now it’s my turn to be offended. “I had a boyfriend. Long-term. As you would know. I think the way you put it…it helped you keep me friendzoned?”

“Why are you being such a bitch?” Harry stands just as Frank approaches our table.

“Hey hey what’s going on here?” His outstretched arm grasps Harry’s shoulder.

“Y/N’s being a bitch,” Harry says as I say “Harry’s a dick.”

“Woah,” Frank tries to get Harry back into his seat. “What happened to you two? You guys never actually fight c’mon Harry-“

“Just let him go,” I say as Harry whips his coat off the back of his chair.

“No! Harry man come on,” Frank steps in his way. “I don’t know why you two are so sensitive these days. What are you guys really fighting about?”

Harry and I make eye contact. He looks away first and just pushes Frank out of his way.

“What the hell?” Frank turns to me. “Y/N, he flew across the pond to see you why are you treating him like shite?”

That gets me, the guilt kicks in. “I don’t-he’s just so-ugh!” I quickly follow Harry’s steps and find him on his phone outside the restaurant.

“What do you want?” Harry asks when he spots me.

“I’m sorry,” I decide to be the bigger person. Harry came all this way, I don’t know why I was acting like this. “Come back to dinner.”

“I already texted my girlfriend—the one I’ll break up with soon anyway. Yeah, we have plans so I’m alright.“

“Harry,” I deserved that. “Really I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know how to be around you right now. We never talked after that confession you dropped on me and-“

“Well who’s fault is that?” Harry bites. And I know I’d struck a nerve. The Nerve. “You force me to tell you something and then you just abandon me afterwards-“

“Only after you abandoned me!” The gloves were off. “After Frank and I broke up I was so alone, you didn’t even text me!”

“I already told you, I was trying to reconcile everything myself!”

“You’re acting like being around me when I was single was a test of your self-control. Like you would just burn to touch me or something what the fuck? If it was so easy for you to be around us when Frank and I were dating, it should’ve been just as easy to support me as a friend. Isn’t that what it comes down to at the end of the day? We’re friends…and you just left me.”

I choke up and turn to face the road so Harry can’t see. The roads are wet with slush and backed up with cars that were permanently home between the yellow lines in this city.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says behind me. “I was a bad friend.”

“You were,” I tell him. I turn back around. “I just…I thought I knew you inside and out. I thought we could read each other’s minds with how well we knew each other. And turns out you were hiding such a big secret. Something like this, i-it’s confusing. I feel like I don’t know you.”

“You really never knew?” Suspicion creeps into his voice. “Never? It was complete news to you?”

“Yes!” I say truthfully. “You’re Frank’s best friend! You set us up. Life isn’t actually like Love, Actually.”

“Well it was for me Y/N I—fuck,” Harry leans back against the brick wall. “I didn’t want to tell you! I just needed some time and then I could go back to being your Harry. You just kept fucking pushing-“

“I wasn’t holding a gun to your head,” I argue. “You could’ve lied. You could’ve come up with any excuse-“

“You’d catch me in any lie I told.”

“Never caught you in the lie you’d been telling us for five years.”

We have a stare off as my words echo between us.

“I never lied.” Harry finally says. His phone chirps and he checks it, I watch as he types out a response.

“Lie of omission. Same thing.”

“You were never supposed to know. I was supposed to get over it.”

“And did you?” I ask before I can think. I don’t know if I even wanted an answer.

“Yeah,” Harry crossed his arms. “I told you I needed time. I missed you yeah, but luckily you left the whole fucking continent. I’m over it now.”

I don’t know what to say. After all that, he’d gotten over it. It felt a bit embarrassing, like I’d made a bigger deal than I needed too. But deep down my loneliness grew. Nobody wanted me. Not even Harry.

“Not like I had a chance anyway yeah?” Harry looks at me so intensely I have to look away. “It was always Frank for you.”

“Well you were never in the picture,” I say. I never knew he felt that way. He doesn’t say anything. “What?!”

“What’s that mean? I was never in the picture?”

“I dunno! I never saw you like that because I never knew you liked me.”

“Wait wait,” Harry leans in. “So you’re saying if I’d told you in the 5+ years you and Frank were dating. You might’ve dumped him to date me? You might have had feelings for your boyfriend’s best friend?”

“No! I…” I don’t know what I was saying. Would I have? I thought he was hot the first night we met. I’d seen him in class, he was smart and attractive. But Frank was my type when I met him so Harry was friendzoned immediately after.

“Now that’s fucked up,” Harry has the balls to be judgemental.

“Don’t judge me! I don’t know what I would do. And I’m only thinking about this after Frank and I have long been broken up. I never thought about you while we were together. Can’t say the same about you!”

Harry’s phone lights up again and he scans the text.

“Whatever Y/N. My girlfriend’s down the road, I’m meeting up with her. Since you don’t care to meet her, I’ll save you the trouble.”

He walks away from me without looking back. I stare after him, watch as he embraces someone and then he’s lost in the crowd. I feel a sob come up but I take a gulp of cold air instead and tamp it down. Harry wasn’t going to have this power over me. Fuck him.

“He’s gone?” Frank asks when I make my way back to him. He’d ordered us wine and I knock back the glass before I answer.

“Yeah, whatever. I apologized, he’s just…a dick.”

“He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’m just surprised. I’m sorry if this was my doing.” Frank looks puzzled. He was so innocent, he didn’t even know the truth. The trust he had was borderline pitiful.

And now I was being rude.

“It’s alright,” I pat his hand. “It’s just you and me again tonight. We’re good company.”

“Yeah,” Frank holds my hand. “But three’s company remember?”

“No so much these days…”

“Yeah,” Frank nods. “But no matter, I do love your company.”

I ignore the L-word and pour myself more wine. We order from the menu but I don’t have much of an appetite. I nibble at my food and take the rest to-go. We wind up at a bar and order more drinks while we continue talking.

Somehow we wind up back to the topic of Harry. And our friend group before we broke up.

“He’s still a serial dater,” Frank says with a candidness that revealed how drunk he was getting. “I don’t know why he’s looking for the perfect girl. I keep telling him the perfect girl is what you make her. But he’s got this bloody idea in his head and no girl lives up to her.”

“Did he tell you that?” I move in closer to hear Frank better, curious if he ever hinted at me.

“Not really,” Frank swishes the Guinness in his glass. “He met someone in uni apparently. But it didn’t work out. I told him he should contact her y’know? But he said she’s moved on, in a relationship. So i said get a fucking move on too right?”

“Mmm,” so he had told a white lie to his best friend.

“Y’know,” Frank lays a hand on my arm. “Y/N, we had something really good. Sometimes I second guess. I feel like I’m an idiot for letting a woman like you go. I still love you. I do. But it’s not that love from before. That wow love.”

It was shitty to hear but I knew what he meant. Our love had gotten comfortable. Like we’d been married 40+ years. When I had enough time to see clearly I’d realized too that wasn’t the kind of love I wanted. I just hadn’t been self-aware enough to see it.

“Yeah,” I say. Frank leans in closer to hear me. “I know what you mean.”

“Maybe if we’re still single in 30 years and we still have that love for each other. We can just get married.”

“Settle?” I ask.

“We’d be fifty!” Frank says. “It’s a good age to settle.”

I laugh. “Fine, deal.”

We link pinkies and maybe it’s the liquor (definitely the liquor) or feeling lonely for months (also the feeling lonely for months) but we lean in the rest of the way. Frank’s lips on mine are familiar, and I ache for more. I pull him deeper into the kiss and he pulls me in until I’m practically in his lap. I feel delirious, touch-starved for too long. All I want was for every inch of clothing to be on the floor.

“Let’s go back to yours,” I say when we take a moment to catch our breaths.

“Really?” Frank asks. “You sure?”

“Just two exes right? Nothing more?”

“Yeah,” Frank goes in for another kiss. “I’d like that.”

He grabs my hand and we stumble out, putting our jackets on against the icy cold as we stumble towards his hotel. If I was more sober maybe I would remember Christa’s warning of not to go backwards but I missed the feeling of being wanted. I missed Frank. And we agreed no strings. What was there to lose?

***

A loud noise wakes me out of my sleep. My eyes are crusted with sleep and I have a raging headache. Where the fuck was I?

I peel my eyes open to blinding light and immediately close them, turning my face into the pillow. The top of my head touches something, a body. The night rushes back just as a voice asks, “what the fuck is this?”

There’s a flurry of movement beside me and I peek open my eye. Harry stands by the TV with barely-concealed rage in his face. Fuck shit!

“Harry!” Frank’s groggy voice calls his best friend’s name with joy. “Good to see you’re back-“

“Is that Y/N? What happened last night? Why is she here?”

I sit up slowly with the comforter wrapped tightly around my torso.

“Uhhh,” Frank looks over at me. He doesn’t look guilty or regretful, somehow he just looks casual. And I sort of love him more for it. “Some fun?!”

Maybe it was casual fun for him, I realize. Meanwhile a bad mix of guilt and disgust churn away inside me. Not because of Frank, but because I’d used him whilst feeling lonely.

Harry looks in my direction and I would be dead on the spot if looks could kill. Who the fuck was he to judge?

“We’re consenting adults Harry,” my voice was rough. “It’s not your concern.”

“Yeah mate,” Frank reaches around for his underpants and dresses himself enough to stand up. “We can talk later about last night, you and me. But Y/N and I were just…finding comfort in the familiar. Right?”

“Yeah,” I answer Frank. “Just some casual fun.”

“Yeah,” Frank rummages in a drawer. “I’m hopping in the shower. Maybe we can all grab breakfast-“

“I should go,” I didn’t have a show tonight but I couldn’t stay here any longer.

“Alright,” Frank shrugs. “We’ll do something later.”

When he shuts the door behind him, the silence in the room becomes suffocating. Harry stands, pinching the bridge of his nose and I try to locate with my eyes where exactly my undergarments are. Ah, of course right by Harry’s feet.

“Um,” I clear my throat as I stand with the comforter wrapped around me. I point to the items. “D’you mind?”

Harry steps back in disgust and I reach for them. When he doesn’t turn around I raise my eyebrow and do a spinning motion with my hand. He rolls his eyes and turns.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he finally speaks—no, spits out as I slip into my clothes. “How the fuck are you fooling around with Frank? Don’t play with him Y/N!”

“Play with him?” I zip my jeans on and return the comforter to the bed. “Play with him? Frank’s a grown man. We have history. I can bloody well sleep with him if I want!”

“Not like this!” Harry turns, eyes blazing. “Not after what you said yesterday to me!”

“What I said? After you asked a hypothetical? A hypothetical in retrospect? When you have been pining after his girlfriend for five years? Five years! And you have the gall to judge me!”

“I can’t help how I felt!” Harry steps closer. “Stop fucking holding that over me like I’m disgusting to have felt that! I stayed in my lane, you didn’t even know—that’s how much I stayed in my lane.”

He had a point. It was wrong, but on a technicality he didn’t do anything wrong. He takes my silence as a chance to continue chewing me out.

“You hint that you could’ve felt something for me last night and then you come and sleep with him? After everything? What are you doing Y/N? This isn’t you.”

“I’m doing whatever I want! You can’t control whatever I want to do based on whatever fucked up morals you’re using on your high horse!”

“My high horse!” Harry brushes my hand off when I touch his shoulder to keep distance. He was getting too close. “What do you want Y/N? You’re angry that I abandoned you, you’re angry I confessed a secret you pulled out of me, then you’re fucking your ex—my best friend, and judging me for my relationship history?”

“You’re way too close,” I push him gently by the shoulder.

“Oh you don’t like that? Both Frank and Harry close to Y/N again.”

“Fuck off!” I push him again, harder this time and he flicks my hands off.

I shove him with both hands but he’s hard to move. He grabs my wrist. “Is that what you wanted all along? Just both of us trailing after you? Do you get a power trip out if it? Do you want me to kiss you too? Maybe a quickie before Frank gets out of the shower? Is that why you did this? Because I said last night I didn’t think about you like that anymore?”

“Stop!” I finally manage to get my hand out of his grip. He looks down at my hand and then at my face. It drops, and he steps back.

I turn for my coat and catch a glimpse of my face. I was crying.

“Y/N don’t go-“ Harry calls out as I rush to the front door.

“You must forget,” I keep my hand on the doorknob as I tell him one last thing. “He broke up with me. I’m not stringing him along. I’m not sleeping with him to get to you. I…I don’t even know you anymore Harry…I don’t want to see you again. If you’re here ‘til Thursday, stay out of my way.”

I do the walk of shame to the subway and sit on the ride home, crying openly on the plastic seats. Nobody gave a fuck.

I don’t know what had gotten into Harry. But I don’t know why I gave in last night too. I wasn’t at a place emotionally to do this. Even though Harry’s words were his own projections one thing was true. His words last night did hit a chord, I did want to feel wanted. And Frank didn’t deserve that.

I had run away instead of facing my reality. And it had gotten me nowhere.

6 months later:

My flat feels bigger than it did. I also feel bigger in it. Most of my furniture was still in storage, I had movers coming tomorrow.

I was finally back to London this week. I was jet lagged as fuck, and cried at least once a day. I missed the life I made in New York, the family I made. Our show had ended a couple months ago. Somehow I’d booked a small role in a series I’d end up dead in after four episodes. I’d met an amazing guy there but we knew I was always moving back. We didn’t try long-distance, we just agreed it was right people wrong time.

In my remaining time in New York I learned to pivot from running away to facing my past. Frank and I had talked before he left back in January. Even though I told him nothing about what happened I had told him it was probably best we stopped contact for a while. I needed to focus on my present.

And I had. I focused on my career, on learning to be alone and exploring why I needed to be wanted. Learning to be happy by myself.

It was 6 months but it felt like years with how transformational it had been. New York city had changed my life but London was calling me back home.

I’d seen a couple friends since. One of them being from uni had told me about Harry. Apparently he had moved to Australia while his company was setting up offices there. A small part of me had held onto the hope of bumping into him in the city but I let it go when I hear the news. Maybe Harry and I were just going to live separate lives.

We never spoke after that day. It was hard to reconcile his actions with who I knew him to be. Over time I recognized we were both confused and hurting.

I loved him. It was simple. Maybe I always loved him. But I think it was a love that wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t hold out hope for him, and I made sure to minimize my heartache when I thought about the friendship I lost.

That love wasn’t the same way I loved Frank. With Harry I really did feel we were twin flames, we knew each other right to the darkest parts of out souls. With Frank we fit right. It was mutual respect and love.

I had dinner plans with Frank next week, the first time we were talking since January too. I heard from my friend he had a girlfriend, he seemed serious about her. I was really happy for him.

I ease into London life slowly. I had a few roles on small sets that I popped in and out of for work. I met up with friends and visited my family in the country. Summer sweltered on and the city welcomed me back home with a steady hum. Despite my initial feelings of growing out of all my friendships, I slowly surround myself by loved ones again and find my flow.

Autumn creeps in and I welcome the cool breeze on early set days. I drink countless coffees and grow into my own skin. I book more roles and finally feel secure, it feels amazing.

An old friend invited me to a Halloween party. Costumes not optional she texts.

Another friend and I decide to go as Marvel characters. I dress up as the Scarlett Witch

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N gracing us with her presence?” An old friend calls me out when we get there. It’s easy to get lost amongst old friends and everyone has a million questions about show business. When it gets overwhelming I excuse myself and take a lap, admiring the creativity in everyone’s costumes.

“Y/N you made it!” I look closer at the man in the makeup and realize it was Frank.

“Hey!” I wrap my arms around him. “You made it too!”

“Barely,” he points his thumb at the gorgeous woman beside him. She’s dressed as Rapunzel.

“You made him Flynn,” I say.

“Yeah!” She holds up her frying pan. “You must be Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“That makes me nervous,” I grimace but we go in for a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you though! You two should win best couple costume!”

“This hair gel is making my scalp itchy. Like crazy.” Frank goes to touch his hair but his Rapunzel slaps his hand away which gets me laughing hysterically. They really embodied the characters.

“Hey,” Frank says once we get serious. “I dunno if you’ve seen him yet. Harry’s here though.”

“I-oh,” I catch my breath. I wasn’t expecting that. “He’s not…Australia?”

“No no, he came back a couple weeks ago. They’re done whatever project they were doing. So…you haven’t seen him?”

“No,” I glance around. “I don’t know if I want to. We haven’t talked since…”

“Just talk to him,” Frank says, suddenly intense. He grabs my arm and moves to the side, mouthing something to his girlfriend. Seeing him with her, I feel so distant from the girl who dated him I’m surprised we did for so long. “Y/N both of you need to make up. Look at us, we broke up after a long term relationship and we’re friends again. There’s nothing that you two can’t get over.”

“It’s not that simple,” I couldn’t out Harry so I mince my words. “Harry said some vile things. And…he’s not who I thought he was for all those years. It’s different!”

“Y/N,” Frank takes a deep breath. He looks to the side, and I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I love the both of you. We’re all best mates, we used to do everything together. Three’s still company! And I want to see both of you happy-“

“I am happy-“

“Yeah but Harry’s a sore spot. Right?”

I roll my eyes. Of course we dated for so long, he knew how to read me.

“Exactly. Listen I know…I know it’s weird. We dated. And Harry’s my best friend. But whatever you two want to be, as long as the two of you are happy-“

“What?” Was he saying what I think he was saying? “What are you saying?”

“You don’t think I’m an idiot do you?” Frank asks and I shrug. He huffs before continuing. “I see the way he looks at you Y/N. I know he…it was weird at first. When I realized maybe my best friend liked my girlfriend. But that shit happens all the time. I confronted him once. He said he admired you a lot but it was nothing more than that. I let it go—I think it was easier for me to believe him than call him out on his lie and potentially ruin our friend-“

“So you know why we’re fighting?”

“Not exactly. But I guessed after I saw how angry Harry was. When he found us in bed…I put the pieces together. Sort of felt like it was my fault. That I was the reason you two were fighting. A part of me wasn’t ready to give you up though. I’m glad you made us take space.”

“Yeah…” There are so many thoughts running through my head and it’s hard to turn them into words. I just nod along.

“So you’ll try?” Frank asks.

“I-yeah. I’m just going to…step away” I pat Frank on the arm and walk away. I needed a quiet corner. I pass his girlfriend along the way and we smile cordially. I was happy for Frank. But I can’t believe he knew. Not the whole time, but deep down he did. Was I the only one who didn’t???

The way Harry looked at me. I remember. I never put much thought into it. We were best friends after all. But all along he had loved me from afar. And been there like a friend. It was stupid and crazy that he didn’t just cut me off to move on, but it was also sweet. Pathetically sweet.

I walk out of the flat and find the stairwell. There was finally some air to breathe; I drop my head onto my knees to take some deep breaths. What was I supposed to do now? I knew I had to see Harry sooner or later now that he was back in town. But what if he changed too? What if he has a girlfriend? Did I even want to risk our friendship and try to be something more?

What friendship, I remember. We had nothing right now. Our relationship was in shambles. We hadn’t spoken in 9 months.

“Ugh!” I shout and it echoes in the stairwell. I dust my costume off and open the door back to the hall but I come face to face with Doctor Strange instead. Well, Doctor Strange’s medallion.

“Oh. Hiya,” I saw awkwardly. Harry looked amazing. Even in his costume. He’s grown more handsome in our time away.

“Scarlet Witch,” he looks me up and down.

“Did you know? Is that why you’re Strange?”

“Honestly no,” he steps back. “I had a cape at home, and found a robe so I just went with it…”

“You just had a cape at home? Casually?”

“Yeah,” by now Harry is smiling and staring at me. We were having a casual conversation but his eyes were saying something else. He was really glad to see me. “I’m so glad I bumped into you.”

“In the stairwell,” I arch an eyebrow. “A bird named Frank didn’t tell you did he?”

“Hm,” he pretends to think before taking a Strange pose. “I looked at the possibilities of seeing you tonight and-“

“You’re such a nerd,” I put his arm down that’s waving circles in the air.

We fall into another silence and it’s a bit awkward. But my words are too far away to grasp any, I didn’t know what to say. There was too much and nothing at all suddenly.

“You went to Australia,” I settle on prying what he’s been up to.

“Yeah, yeah!” His eyes light up as he tells me about it. Apparently he’d gone with that girlfriend from New York—turns out she was Australian. They lived together for a bit but her schedule made it hard to go steady. I glean this info while he tells me about what he was doing there and how different the lifestyle was. “It surprised me. I really liked it. I think you would have too.”

“Seems lovely,” I smile. “You glow when you talk about it.”

Harry blushes. “Yeah I…it was the step away I needed. There’s a lot of bloody space in Australia, I just felt so free there.”

“I’m happy for you,” I say honestly. Harry actually seemed brand new. I ache a little that he’d done all this changing; what if I was a castaway in his big change.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He smiles, his dimples make an appearance. “M’glad to be home though.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Me too. I love America but I’m home on British soil.”

That makes Harry laugh. Then more silence. Jeez what could I say. This was so awkward!

“Should we go back in?” Harry nods to the door. I hesitate, I thought we were going to talk talk. Isn’t that why he found me out here?

Unless I really was in Harry’s past; he didn’t think we were worth reconciling. Maybe we were just going to be friendly now. Oh that hurts.

“Why not,” I walk ahead so I can mask my expression into something pleasant. I was Scarlet bloody Witch. Turns out Harry wasn’t the Vision I thought he was going to be. I was going to be fine.

“So you seeing anyone?” Harry asks casually as we walk back in. The noise is louder and I barely make his question out.

“Ah no,” I can’t look him in the eye. “Not right now.”

No comment from him. Oh my god I had to get away from this constant awkward energy.

“I’ll catch up with you later then? I see some friends there I haven’t spoken to…”

Harry looks to where I point. His brows furrow for a brief moment before he slips on an easy smile. “Talk later!”

I look for him a little later after I’ve cleared my head. I see him with Frank’s girlfriend. Was he in love with her now? The thought flashes in my brain so quickly I’m surprised by the emotion it pulls up. What was wrong with me!?

I had to slow down on the drinks. And maybe this headpiece was shrinking my brain cells. Why did I think such a horrible thought after Harry was so nice to me?

You’re jealous.

I couldn’t be though. Could I? This wasn’t the Harry I knew. How could I be?

I move towards where I remember the toilets to be. I could get out of this headpiece, splash some water on my face. Factory reset my stupid brain.

“Oh-‘scuse me!” I bump into someone—Harry coming out of the bathroom.

“Harry I-“ I turn back to where I swear I just saw him.

“Frank dropped cream cheese on my cape that menace,” Harry shows me the spot. “It barely came out.”

“Did you dab at it?” I inspect it. “Let’s see if we can get it out.”

He turns back and I follow him into the bathroom. I close the door and suddenly the loud noise muffles into a quieter environment. It emphasizes our silence.

“The cheese is like, in the threads.” I use my finger to scrub the cloth. “Frank can be so clumsy.”

“He’s like a child with finger foods,” Harry says. His voice rumbles through his chest to me. It’s then I realize, he was nearly touching it to my back—I’d draped his cape over the both of us.

I blink up at him and he must realize because he steps back. “Sorry, let me take this off. Might be easier.”

“No that’s alright,” I say but I take it from him happily detached.

He watches me clean it after offering assistance and being rejected. I was used to spot cleaning things out of my costumes, I’d gotten good at it.

“Here you go,” I give it to him after dabbing it as dry as I could.

“Wow, thank you.” He examines the spot. “That’s nearly gone.”

“Nearly?” I squint at it and he laughs.

“Yeah it’s gone, you’re the wizard!” He extends the cape over my shoulders.

“Actually it should be sorcerer,” I say. “I’ve already got a cape!”

“But it’s so short!”

“Fine,” I pull it tighter around my shoulders and the comfort of Harry it carried. “I’ll keep this on! See ya!”

He laughs but when I go for the door he stops me. “Wait. Y/N wait. Wait. Is…is this how we’re going to be?”

“Huh?” I turn back to him. “Is this how we’re going to be??”

“Yeah like, polite. And you trying to escape me every ten minutes.”

Oh. He noticed.

“Uhm, no?”

“Is that a question?”

“Well,” I bite my lip. I was nervous suddenly, facing this very confident and confrontational and cute as hell Harry. “How do you want to be?”

“How we used to? Best friends?”

“I mean, can we? After everything?”

“I hope so,” Harry runs a hand down his face. “I was too proud the last time you saw me. I said some stuff I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for what I did to you.”

“No I’m sorry,” I confess, relieved to be able to. “If you were too proud, then I was too confused. I didn’t know what I wanted. I lashed out too, and some of the stuff you said was right.”

“Was it? Say that again please?” Harry gives me a cheeky grin.

“Shut up!“ I hit him on the chest playfully. “That isn’t going to get a repeat.”

“Too bad,” Harry pretends to look upset.

We fall into silence once more but it’s not as awkward. The room is small we just sort of study each other.

“So, friends again?” Harry holds his hand out.

“C’mere you idiot,” I take the step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. I fit here. Right here. Oh my god I missed this.

“Y/N,” Harry squeezes me. “I miss us.”

“I know,” I squeeze him back. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you forgave me,” he whispers back to me.

“I’m glad you forgave me,” I whisper back.

A knock on the door breaks up apart. But we stay arm’s length from one another.

“I can tell you’ve changed,” he taps a knuckle to my nose. “I’m proud of you Y/N. I saw you on TV when I came back. I jumped up so quickly I scared my mum.”

“Aw.” I try not to blush. “You’ve changed too. I like this calm and collected and mature Harry. He’s cool!”

“I was always calm and collected and mature,” Harry says as I open the door. The person on the other side looks between both of us but we’re too busy bantering to notice.

“You think burping at me is funny.”

“It is!” Harry wraps both his arms around my shoulder from behind as we walk.

“So you haven’t actually changed,” I look up at him behind me. “Good to know.”

“Look at us,” Harry says. “Two nexus beings finding each other again.”

“We’ve just altered the timeline becoming friends again!” I laugh.

We bump into Frank then, and he looks visibly relieved that we made up. I can tell by the way he studies us he’s trying to figure out if anything more happened but as Harry keeps his arm draped around me, and teases me like before, I watch his expression clear as he realizes we just made up as friends.

It’s not disappointing. I missed Harry more than I thought, just being able to laugh with him means more to me than any kiss would. I stare at him longer than I should, and when he holds my hand as we leave the party my stomach flutters. But I don’t think too hard about it. He was back in my life. I was happy.

2 months later:

“I brought the good stuff,” Harry holds up three bottles of wine in my doorway.

“Then you better hurry in!” I open the door wider to let him in.

“These are for the lovely host,” Harry hands me a bouquet of flowers when I meet him in the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” I bury my face in them. “These are so lovely. Thank you H.”

I lean up to kiss his cheek. These were the little things that always took me by surprise when Harry did them ever since we started talking again. It reminded me that he did some growing while we were apart.

Not that the old Harry wouldn’t have got me flowers. But he wouldn’t have thought to bring them for me for our belated Christmas party. It was hard to explain, the changes were subtle but Harry was growing into a man. Finally.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asks.

“I’m making fun of you in my head,” I tell him as I bring out a vase for the flowers.

“Stop that,” he surveys my dinner table. “Or I’ll take those flowers back.”

“No,” I hold them close. “Can you help out with the roast? It just needs to be taken out of the oven.”

“Yeah!” Harry helps me finish up the dinner. It was the week between Christmas and New Year’s and I’d wanted to throw a Christmas dinner for my friends. He agreed to come early for this, but we finish quicker and have a half hour to spare.

“So Y/N,” Harry says suddenly serious after we sit for a break. I still had to get into my outfit but I had to catch my breath first.

“So Harry,” I joke to ease the serious undertone that had creeped in. I stretch my legs out on the sofa. Harry sits on the floor beside me, so I turn to my side so we’re at eye-level.

“Did you hear about Frank?” Harry picks at a stray fibre on the cushion.

“Frank? No? What happened?!”

“Ah,” he leans back and closes his eyes. He says more to himself: “Of course.”

“The suspense is killing me here! Is he cancelling or something?”

I’d only invited Harry, Frank and his girlfriend, my neighbour, and 3 others. Already my neighbour cancelled for being sick. I had too much food for another cancellation.

“He’s engaged Y/N,” Harry finally looks at me. “He proposed on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh!” I stare at Harry, frozen as a roller coaster of emotions rides through my system in 10 seconds. It had been 5 days. “Wha-why didn’t he tell me?”

“I dunno, maybe he was going to tell you in person today?”

“Did he tell you in person?”

“No,” he places a hand on my leg. “He sent a picture. But maybe it’s just given your guys’ history-“

“But we’re old news. History. Literal history. Does he think I’ll be offended?”

“Are you offended?”

I pause. “That he didn’t tell me yeah a bit.”

“Y/N,” Harry shakes my leg. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I-“ I think about it before I answer. I wasn’t jealous. Frank and I were over. His new girlfriend clearly made him happy—he found what he wanted.

“What?” Harry asks gently.

“I’m not jealous or anything. I don’t care but a small part of me looks back on us and is like…if he wanted to he would. Right?”

“Half your relationship happened when you two were students,” Harry knew what I was talking about.

“That’s true. But we had years after too. It just makes me think how long we held onto each other because we didn’t know better. It took him less than a year to propose to her!”

“Don’t look at it like wasted time-“

“I’m not!” I reassure him. “It was some of the greatest moments of my early 20s with the three of us. I guess when you know, you know.”

“Yeah,” Harry had started rubbing my leg to soothe me. “Good. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. M’good thanks for telling me beforehand. You’re a good friend.”

If he hadn’t, I know it would have gotten awkward. Because even though I truly was happy for them, it was a bit awkward to find out and react live like that.

“Just pretend it’s the first time you heard when he tells you?” Harry asks.

“Yeah I won’t blow your cover.” I smile. He doesn’t smile back.

“You’re really over him?” he asks instead. “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

I only realize how seriously he is when I look at him, he still believed I was hung up over Frank?

“Harry what? You know I’m over that. We broke up over a year ago-“

“Yeah but when we came to see you-“

“Oh my god that was just two exes finding comfort in each other! We were both obviously lonely. And confused probably.”

I laugh but Harry doesn’t. His hand on my leg stops and so I lay mine on top of his.

We both know why Harry’s so invested, he’s showing me he still cares. But neither of us make a move. I don’t know why we were equally scared, but we stay that way.

Until my phone buzzes. We jump apart at the sudden sound and I scramble for it to help with the obvious tension that had just filled the air.

“Everyone’s nearly here!” I get up. “I need to get ready! Can you let them in when they arrive?”

“Sure. Yeah, get ready.” Harry waves me off. I rush to my room and slip into the sweater dress I’d left out. I do a quick mascara and blush as I hear the guests arrive. When I come out everyone has a glass of wine and I greet them all with a hug.

“I’m so happy everyone could make it!” I say to the small group. I point out the appetizers and get to mingling. Everyone gets along well and I happily host with some help from Harry. I can sense Frank and his girlfriend, or now fiancé, eyeing me.

At the dinner table everyone tucks in. The drinks flow and so does the conversation. Until Frank clears his throat.

“We have some news,” Frank says. We all look expectantly at him and he holds up his fiancé’s hand. “We got engaged.”

“Oh my gosh! Congratulations!” I gush, with just enough enthusiasm that I can see them visibly relax. Everyone fawns over the ring. I get up to hug them both and say another congrats. I make eye contact with Harry as I sit back down and he anchors me. He was the reason things stay awkward-free. I loved him for that.

The night continues and by the time it’s midnight mostly everyone is drunk. They file out slowly and I’m left with the usual three. Well, four now.

“So when did you tell her?” Frank asks when his fiancé excuses herself before they leave.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Tell me what?” I act equally confused.

“C’mon you two. Harry you told her before we came right?”

“Tell me what?” I ask.

“My news! My engagement! I’m not crazy I know you told her.”

“I didn’t say a word mate,” Harry swears. “Why would I tell her your news?”

Frank looks at me suspiciously but I put on my best innocent face. He shakes his head when we hears his fiancé come back and they leave with a final hug. As soon as the door closes behind them, Harry and I break out into a fit of giggles.

“D’you think he bought it?” Harry whispers.

“I don’t think so.” I whisper back.

“Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know!” this sends me into another round of laughter.

“Harry I need to get hydrated and go to bed,” I wipe my tears away when I get ahold of myself. “I’m losing it.”

“Here,” Harry gets up from where we’d crouched down to and helps me up. I lean into his chest as we have one last chuckle.

“You get yourself cleaned and I’ll clean up here.”

“No!” I wave his help away. “I’ll clean tomorrow. You can pour another drink if you want. But don’t worry about the mess!”

“Just get in there,” Harry pushes me to the bathroom and I don’t have any fight left in me. I can hear him loading the dishes and I thank the universe for giving me someone like him.

By the time I scrub my day off and change into cozy flannels, Harry had loaded the dishes, put away any leftover food that hadn’t been given away, and wiped down the counters.

“You. Are. An angel.” I put my hands on either side of his face. “I love you.”

The words come out quicker than I could process. We both freeze.

“Uhh,” he coughs out a laugh. I drop my hands. “I am an angel aren’t I?”

“Tonight yeah,” so we were going to play the avoidance card.

It’s not like I’d never said those words to him before. I’d said it a million times. But not since before.

“I’ll just use the toilet myself, before I go.”

“Oh yeah,” I move aside so he can go past. I didn’t want him to go, yet things had taken a turn for the awkward and I felt an anxious energy flood me.

I pick at the dinner table, gathering the spare decorations I’d placed. Giving my hands something to do because Harry was going to come out any second now and I’d have to look him in the face after the moment we just had.

What was wrong with us? We obviously liked the other person! No one was making the first move and everything was just suspended in jello!

That does it, I decide. I was going to give him a piece of my mind!!

“Y/N,” Harry had come out while I was lost in thought. He stands on the other side of the table.

“Are you leaving?” I accuse.

“I was.” He licks his lips and looks away. “But I can’t leave like this. Look.”

He walks around to me and holds me hand. “You know I love you. With my whole heart. I don’t know why I was so weird back then.”

He cups my face, the same way I did before and my mental declarations fall like the last leaves of November. “I love you.”

An emotion sticks in my throat and I try to push it down to ask him as what? What did he love me as? I needed to know. But it’s too big to go down, and my eyes well with tears instead.

“C’mon,” he wipes a stray tear with his thumb. “I’ve said it a million times. You’re not crying are ya?”

“No,” I say as more tears streak down my face. My lip juts out and it makes Harry laugh. He wraps me into him.

“When did you become such a baby?”

“I’m not a baby!” I say into his chest.

“Shh you big baby,” he pats my hair down and it makes me giggle. He pulls me away and grins, he looks extraordinarily beautiful in this moment and I feel my breath catch. “We got a laugh out of her!”

“Leave me alone,” I cross my arms.

His smile fades. “D’you want me to?”

“No!” I hug him again. “I like it here.”

“Y/N-“ he hesitates. I lift my face to look up, resting my chin on his chest. “I can’t lose you again.”

He was rejecting me. He wanted to stay friends. Oh. The tears threaten up again and I take a step back. “Oh.”

“No no,” he pulls me back. “Listen to me. I can’t lose you again. D’you understand?”

His serious gaze disrupts a migration of butterflies somewhere inside me. When did my Harry become this handsome gentleman?

When you let him go.

I battle my thoughts as they try sabotage the good thing in front of me.

“What?” Harry cups my cheek. He knew the internal battle going on of course.

“I don’t,” I close my eyes against his gentle touch. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Are you mental? You make me want to be better Y/N. I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”

“Really?” I ask. His forehead touches mine.

“Really,” he swipes another tear that had fallen without permission. “You’re everything to me Y/N. I want you to be around all the time. You don’t know how many times when I was in Australia I wanted to pick up my phone and send you something I knew you would find funny. It was painful every time I could. I don’t ever want to lose you ever again.”

“Me neither,” I blubber. I felt the same way when I was in America.

“You’re crying a lot for a nice moment,” Harry teases. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes!” I cry/laugh. “I don’t know why I’m being so emotional!”

He presses his lips gently to my cheeks. I’m light-headed as his lips move down to my own. I’ve never felt more complete than in this moment. I’ve never felt more whole in my life. It feels like coming home after a long journey, like finding your person in a crowd and saying ah there you are. It was better than being on stage with the sound of applause deafening your eardrums. It was everything.

1-ish year later:

Harry clutches my hand as we rush to the church, running late because he had woken up with a blemish that he’d made worse the more he tried to take care of it. I tried not to get annoyed, instead I lent him some makeup and we panicked all the way here.

“Has it started?” Harry shouts back at me as we climb the steps. I check the time, by some miracle we were only 6 minutes late.

“Probably!” I say. I was disgustingly out of breath but Harry waits for me at the top. We enter the lobby and peek into the ceremony. Frank stands up front but there’s buzzing in the pews. “Oh thank god!”

“Perfect place to do it,” Harry jokes as he opens the door and we walk in. Frank looks relieved when he spots his best man walking to him. He waves at me and I mouth good luck to him.

I wish Harry was beside me as the ceremony starts. Frank tears up as his bride walks up the aisle and it’s crazy to me how I once upon a time thought that would be me walking up to him one day. Harry catches my eye and squints, I was tearing up. Because now I imagined walking up to him one day. The true love of my life.

Vows are exchanged and the newlyweds dance down the aisle. We see them off and when I turn to Harry he kisses me with a ferocious passion.

“Woah,” I pat his tie when I catch my breath. “What was that for?”

“I just love you so much,” he kisses my forehead. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

I melt at his words, it had been over a year since we got together but I fell more and more in love with him every day. I can’t believe he was right there all along and I found him so late.

“Let’s get in there and do it now,” I say mock-seriously. But Harry believes me.

“Really? Now?!”

“No,” I peck his cheek. “But I’m just waiting for the question. Then I will happily marry you anywhere.”

“There’s a question?” Harry plays stupid.

“I’ll let you figure that one out!” I walk down the steps towards our ride. We had a reception to get to. On time.

The reception is at a gorgeous venue nearby that sparkles on every surface. I congratulate the newlyweds a million times and watch my drink since I told Harry he didn’t have to drive. He was a funny drunk, very affectionate, and I didn’t mind.

“There’s my future wife,” Harry locates me near the end of the night.

“We were just dancing together,” I put my arm around him.

“Itsa last slow song,” he pulls me to the dancefloor where all the couples sway with each other. I put my arms around Harry and do the same b

“You’re pretty drunk,” I whisper in his ear.

“I know. Last drink.” He slurs. “Y’know I love you s’much. I’m keeping you forever.”

“That’s a relief,” I tease. “I thought we had an expiry.”

“No!” Harry pulls back enough to look at me. “Never!”

“I know,” I twirl the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s forever.”

“Yeah,” Harry gazes at me lovingly and I admire him the same.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” I tell him. “I’m so lucky you stuck around.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Harry slurs.

“Let’s dance,” I rest my head on his chest and we continue swaying. His heart beats steadily underneath and I’m so grateful for him. I feel like going back just to tell myself that I would be dancing romantically with my best friend at my boyfriend’s wedding in a few year’s time. That everything I knew was about to crumble underneath me but I would build it back up stronger than ever. I wish I could tell her to not be afraid, two was company and it would be the best kind yet.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry stylesxreader #friends to lovers #i needed some fluff even though i can’t do pure fluff #without some angst #yes I’m seeing a therapist #��😅#i’m kind of attached to this one #lol

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