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vamossainz55 · 3 years ago

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Moonlight Chapter 2 || Carlos Sainz x Reader

A/N: Hey guys!! I hope everybody's doing well. I told myself that I would have the next chapter up for next week but my brain is literally going a mile a minute so I decided to finish up the second chapter already (it is almost 1am lmao). Idek if anybody is reading this but I might have some mistakes here and there but please feel free to let me know!! All constructive criticism is appreciated. This chapter is also a bit rushed but I feel like I want to do some building + context before throwing it all in but I am hoping to get more Carlos into the next chapter <3. Thank you so much and I literally love you if you are still reading until here.

ANYWAYS im done xoxoxo.

link to chapter 1 / all chapters / my masterlist

Chapter 2 (4k words)

You don’t sleep at all that night, your mind is spinning and a part of you knows that all the drinks you had were finally catching up to you. Your eyes scan the ceiling, deciding to focus on the small dent you had accidentally left there in hopes to get your mind to still. You couldn’t believe what you had read. McLaren? Out of all teams? A part of you even wants to laugh, because of course this would happen to you.

You pick up your phone again, read over the email again, and again, and again. How were the words not changing? How were you supposed to join a team knowing Carlos was going to be there? What were you going to do?

A weird mix of emotions settle in your chest. Happiness, excitement, nervousness, pride, and even anger- and maybe a little sadness. You had dreamt about this opportunity for as long as you could remember. Why were you so worried about so many things?

There was one main question drumming in your head, what would happen if you took it?

You ponder at that thought for what feels like hours, but soon enough your eyes begin to grow heavy. As worried as you were, your body was beginning to shut down, begging to finally get some rest.

Right before you drift off to sleep you think to yourself still,

What am I going to do?

_____________

The next day you wake up with the sleep still sticking to your eyes. You had managed to get some sleep, but you didn’t feel like you had gotten enough rest. Your eyes were heavy and your body was sore from the night before. You try your best to settle yourself back to sleep but the moment you close your eyes your mind decides otherwise.

Thoughts of an orange team flood your brain along with a certain driver, but before you can start thinking too much a knock on the door rips your attention away.

“Y/n? I’m coming in,” Your roommate announces. You let out a loud groan, telling her to go away, but before you can even finish your sentence you hear your door open and feel a strong weight on your bed. Soon enough you’re being crushed, your roommate’s body sprawled over yours.

“Oh come on- fuck off, get off of me,” you whine as you hear Jane laugh and shift a bit to lay beside you instead. Being awake for so long helps you notice the soft pressure in the center of your head that slowly begins to spread. Yeah, you were definitely hungover.

“You smell gross,”Jane says, soon getting inside the covers with you. She feels warm and you can’t help but scoot closer. “You never wanna go out and party with me but you do with Laura,” She says playfully. “But you had fun? Laura told me a guy came home with you.”

And fuck- right. You had forgotten about Bastien. “A guy? Yeah yeah, he dropped me off last night. He asked me out on a date.” You tell her, and you can feel a slight swoop in your stomach still. “I’m actually excited?” You’re a bit nervous at the thought of it. It was rare for you to get excited about these things- let alone to say it outloud.

Jane grins. “You’re excited for a date? Am I hearing you right?” She asks and you can already feel your cheeks heating up so you try your best to look away and come off as casual.

“He’s really cute and nice. But he told me he’s just here visiting a friend and looking for jobs so it might not even go anywhere.” You say with a shrug. You wondered if it was weird or not but you felt that it was a bit reassuring to not know where it was going to go, like there weren’t many expectations going into it. If he wasn’t going to be around anyways it would be fine if it didn’t work out.

Jane’s asking when the date is and she is quite surprised by your answer, “The date’s tonight,” You say before explaining, “but we didn’t agree on the time. Should I text him and ask?”

The look Jane gives you almost makes you laugh. “No, are you crazy?” She exclaims and you wince at how loud she is being, suddenly remembering about the headache that is spreading through your head.

“Wait for him to text you, and if he doesn’t then his loss you know?,” She says, getting off the bed. You think for a second, and yeah, maybe she is right. You could wait and see if he would show up or not.

“Where are you going?” You ask, peering over the sheets to look at her. As much as you needed it you did not want time by yourself to think about things.

“Oh I’m coming back, I’m just getting you some painkillers and water,” she says matter of factly and you return her kindness with a smile.

“Love you!” You say as you watch her head out of the door.

_____________

Bastien does end up texting back, and you both go out to dinner that night. It’s nice, the conversation is casual and you both realize it wasn’t just the alcohol talking the night before. You’re a bit too smitten for your liking but you try your best to ignore it.

He offers to drive you home but by the way he holds the lower of your back you both know it isn’t just for a drive. It’s thrilling really, to sneak someone upstairs again- begging them to be quiet to not wake up your roommate (because of course you wouldn’t hear the end of it). But you both get away with it, and waking up next to someone the next day makes it even more worth it.

It wasn’t really supposed to become a thing but it does. Bastien had told you over your date that he was only around for the next two weeks. Mainly a mix of hanging out and catching up with friends along with job interviews and looking over other opportunities. You prep yourself for disappointment, tell yourself that it is a one and done, but that’s far from what ends up happening.

You see him almost every day, he would either drop by with lunch, dinner, or even a coffee to just squeeze some extra time with you. You would let him sneak into yours at night and he would often pick you up to give Laura a break and stay at his. It’s like you were floating on cloud 9. He meets your friends and you meet some of his. Everything is new, fresh, and exciting.

So much happens that you don’t even realize you’re in your own little bubble.

But every bubble is bound to burst.

It happens to you a whole week after you take Bastien to the airport (with the promise of keeping in touch and seeing eachother soon). Your mind is still preoccupied with him- you both were still texting practically every day- and if you knew any better you were practically dating. But were you really?

Sure you were practically attached to the hip the whole time you were here, and sure he was texting you good morning, good night, and everything else between the day. But were you really dating?

There were so many questions still that you had completely forgotten about your upcoming semester. The internship. Your mind suddenly springs. You were sitting at the table with Laura and a few other people in your major when Theo mentions how he had just accepted the offer he had gotten over a week ago. You had completely forgotten about your own offer and it had been over 3 weeks since you had gotten your email.

“Shit- shit, no way.” You murmur to yourself as you open your phone. Most of the table is distracted in their own conversation but you can feel Laura and one or two other pairs of eyes scanning over you in interest as you scroll through your phone. How could you be so stupid and forget about it? You read through your emails quickly, scrolling through and looking for the email that had sent you the offer.

You finally see the latest email that you had gotten from them. Your heart sinks as your phone loads, already dreading what the email would say.

It finally loads and you take a deep breath before reading.

F1 Talent Program Offer: 3 days to Deadline. | Received: 2d ago

One day left to decide. You let out a nervous laugh as you run your hand through your hair, letting out a shaky breath. Could you even make a choice within a day?

“What are you looking at?” Laura huffs, leaning next to you to read over your shoulder. She practically lets out a gasp before looking at you, eyes wide. “Y/n! Oh my god. You did it!” She says and before you know it you feel two arms wrapped around you and squeezing you tight and knocking the air out of you.

“What’s going on, what happened?” You hear one of your classmates ask. Laura chimes in before you can, and you can hear the pride in her voice as she announces it.

“She got accepted for the engineering talent program for F1!” She says proudly and you force a smile onto your lips as you can hear everyone gasp. Soon the table is congratulating you and you thank everyone quite sheepishly. As much as you wanted to get mad at Laura you could tell how happy she was for you.

You try your best to smile it off, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the opportunity but you can tell Laura knows something is off. You feel a grip on your shoulder before you realise Laura is pulling you step aside for a bit. You stumble a bit to follow her and go to ask if everything is okay but Laura beats you to it.

“So? What’s wrong? You should be exhilarated about this- bragging left and right.” Laura says, already crossing her arms across her chest. Four years of friendship and you are still amazed with how well she can read you.

“I am happy, I am.” You try your best to say convincingly but the look Laura gives you says enough. “No- seriously I am. I can’t believe I got it. You know how hard I worked for this?” You say, and its true. All the hard work you had put in the past years was for this moment. The sleepless nights before an exam, the being away from family to be able to study at the best school, missing out on parties to be able to get enough sleep for class, even the endless nights crying when everything became too much. It was all for this moment.

“But?” Laura asks, and she can tell that you are thinking too much. You tend to do that thing where your nose twitches slightly, whenever your brain begins to eat itself from the inside out and let the worries settle in.

“I got accepted into McLaren.” You tell her quietly because it's embarrassing to say it outloud. Embarrassing to admit to yourself how much Carlos still had a hold of you.

Her brows furrow slightly and she gives you a shrug. “So?”

You frown at her. Although she was not into racing you were pretty sure you had kept her updated with where Carlos would be going within the upcoming season. “I told you. Carlos is going to join McLaren. What if I have to see him? Talk to him? Work with him?” You say, this time even more quietly but just because you can feel your other friends trying to snoop and look over to you both.

“Again, so?” Laura asks, and this time she shakes her head and takes your hands into hers. “Y/n, look at me.” She says, squeezing your hands gently. “You’ve been dreaming about this since before I met you.” Her voice is soft yet firm, and somehow you feel your chest begin to swell. “Do not let someone from the past scare you away from your future. You have to take this opportunity y/n.”

You stare at her for a bit, letting out a shaky breath. Your heart is beating in your ears because she is right. You have been dreaming about this for ages. You pull her into a tight hug, tucking your face into her shoulder.

“Thank you.” You say, already feeling part of the weight on your shoulders slowly lifting. You slowly pull away, smiling at her from ear to ear. “Come over to mine? I need to send in my acceptance.”

_____________

Accepting the offer was less dreadful than you thought, taking into account that you weren’t starting the internship after your graduation. But time flew by faster than you thought it would.

The months between accepting the offer and starting at McLaren were eventful. Looking back, you had too many exams, too much stress, and simply too much to do. You were grateful though that you got to enjoy some of the last months with your friends before you all headed to do different things. Not only were you able to finish all your academic requirements but you had finally decided to pay more attention to your personal life too.

You finally caught up and partied with the girls, had more days out with them, and just enjoyed your time without worrying too much about your next lecture, class, or exam. It was relaxing to finally be able to let go a bit and have fun. Not only that- but Bastien came to visit often too. Before you even realized everybody already knew that the both of you were dating, but by the time you found out you didn’t really mind either. You both worried about the distance considering your internship and how he was still traveling around looking for a job whilst freelancing- but you both figured with a little faith you could make it work.

Even graduation passed by like a breeze. Your parents and your sister flew in and soon enough you were already packing your things into boxes and luggages. Half of your things were being shipped back home as you could not take them around with you so you were definitely forced to pack light.

And that’s how you ended up there. Staring at the McLaren headquarters, nervously fixing one of the bracelets on your wrist as you waited outside. You had been one of the first few to arrive, but to be fair you had arrived a bit earlier than the agreed time. You couldn’t help but look around, the office was bigger than you thought, along with the large lake adorning the side of the building, it looked amazing and you were trying your best to keep yourself composed without taking photos of everything. You had seen the McLaren headquarters a lot through photos and videos- but this was the first time you were anywhere near it- let alone about to step in. As you looked around more people seemed to trickle in. The others seemed to also be amazed by the site, scanning over the whole area. Even the surroundings were nice and peaceful, vast greenery covering the whole area and more. Soon you heard the automatic doors open alongside a pair of footsteps.

“Hi, welcome! I’m Andrea. Sorry for the wait.” A woman said, waving at you all. She was wearing a McLaren polo shirt along with black slacks. “Come in, I’ll take you to one of our presentation rooms and we can kick off with some introductions. We’ll have our basic induction and onboarding before handing you off to your own departments and managers.” She announced, eyes meeting yours quickly as she also smiled and looked at everyone else. You can’t help but have a voice in the back of your head telling you to keep an eye out for a certain spanish man. You were absolutely dreading bumping into him.

The ceilings seem even taller from the inside, and the glass walls allow natural light to fill the building. You look around as you follow Andrea, appreciating the clean and modern design the building had adopted. “Here, come in.” Andrea says, soon opening the door to a medium sized auditorium with a powerpoint slide already splayed on the screen.

The onboarding goes by smoothly and you all introduce yourselves one by one. You’re a bit nervous since you introduce yourself first, but you get through it quickly before others follow up with their own introduction. After going through almost half of the room you soon learn there are three other interns from other departments also joining and you relax a bit knowing you were all in a similar situation. A bit after the introductions you all go through some general knowledge about McLaren, learning about the values and the mission of the company. After a few more fun facts you’re all sent off with your own managers who are waiting outside at the door.

“Y/n?” A man asked, stepping closer to you. You turn and smile once you see a tall man with short black hair.

“Hi yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” You say with a smile, putting your hand out for a handshake. He takes this moment to introduce himself.

“Hi, perfect! My name is Tom. Welcome to the team.” He says before pulling his hand away. He nods slightly towards the direction you both are supposed to go to before explaining the day’s run down. “We’ll take these first few weeks for you to look over the systems we use, learn more about them, and get familiar with them. We can analyze past data and see how you interpret it compared to our previous interpretations.” You nodded along as you followed him, already getting excited as he also told you more about the team.

“We will also have an event later tonight with everyone, just a few welcoming drinks. You don’t have to show up but it would be nice and good for you to socialize with everyone too.” Tom smiles as he opens the door to one of the rooms. Something from the corner of your eyes captures your attention but once you look over it's gone. You look back ahead of you and take a deep breath before stepping in.

_____________

You’re barely there for a full working day and your brain is fried. Numbers were printed into the inner corners of your brain and you had learned so much that you weren’t sure if you had enough space to store it all. Despite your exhaustion and the overload of information you were buzzing. You could already feel your fingers twitching, ready to get your hands on something and to help out. They had explained to you that the first few weeks were a bit hands-off, focusing on getting you settled in and learning mostly the theory behind it all but you felt like you couldn’t wait. So much was happening around you and you wanted to do something more.

“I think we have our welcoming drinks in a bit. How about we head out there and you can meet some people from the other departments?” Tom offers and you thank him, already following him with a few other newcomers that had joined the team too. You had made friends with a woman who had recently joined too, Cara, as you both were one of the few women within the engineering team, so you stuck to her side as you all trickled into the room.

“I think I’m going to nib a few snacks.” You say, already nodding at Cara, so you both decide to walk together to the table with several snacks. You grab a small plate and a few of the snacks, waiting for Cara to grab something for herself too. Once you’re back to Tom and the others you set your plate on the table, “I grabbed a bit extra, just in case anybody wanted a bite too.” You smile. Tom seems to look over the plate, already ready to fish a sandwich off your plate when you see two figures coming over, and one seems a bit too familiar. You tense a little and instantly grow quiet, already looking away before even making sure if you had seen the right thing or not.

“Tom! Hey, how are you?” Zak says, grinning as he pats Tom on the back. You’re torn between looking over or keeping your eyes away, but as soon you hear the other person’s voice you screw your eyes shut, already feeling your heartbeat race.

“Hello Tom, Zak told me we had new people starting. Decided to drop by since we’re gonna be working together a lot no?” And you don’t even need to look over to know who’s voice it is. You can’t tell if there’s a knot in your throat or the food is coming back up because you start to feel a bit sick. Your legs twitch to get up, but your brain is screaming not to run. Not in front of your new manager, and even worse the CEO of your company.

You quietly look over, already feeling your palms get clammy. Zak and Carlos look so focused on Tom that you realize they had barely looked over to the rest of the group, but Tom decides to change this. “Yeah- yeah. Everyone here’s new. Wanted to get them to mingle a bit.” He says, soon turning to you all. Zak and Carlos look towards you all, smiling. A part of you wonders if he doesn’t recognize you but you notice the moment that he does.

He freezes a bit and blinks, eyes locked on yours and you quickly look away, breaking eye contact. Tom and Zak don’t even notice, not until Cara approaches Carlos, who barely reacts as he shakes her hand. As Carlos is, he quickly recovers and composes himself, apologizing before introducing himself.

“So this is Cara, she is our new Junior Aero Engineer, she worked quite a bit in the W League and in the F2 series,” Tom says. Carlos manages to make some eye contact but you can feel his eyes shift from her to you but you try not to look back at him. After three more introductions Tom shifts the attention to you.

You force yourself to look this time and you bite the inside of your cheek to remain calm. You can see Carlos is about to say something, but he struggles to find the words. His eyes are a bit all over the place, and his nose is twitching the way it does whenever he’s nervous. The tension is suddenly visible in the group and all eyes are on you both.

“Do you know each other?” Zak asks, deciding to be the one to break the silence.

“Actually,” Carlos starts.

“No- no we don’t.” You casually laugh, and what? You were meant to stay quiet. But what were you supposed to do? Let Carlos tell not only Tom, but also Zak, and the rest of the team that you used to what, date? A part of you realizes, maybe he was going to say friends. But it was too late now. “My name is y/n. Nice to meet you” You say, and you can tell Carlos’ demeanor instantly changes. His back straightens and he quickly plasters on the tight lipped smile you used to hate. “I’m,” You stutter a bit when he holds your hand to shake it, “I’m the new Engineer Intern.” and you can tell he’s upset. His eyes are cold as he locks eyes with you again. This time you can’t look away.

“Carlos.” He says shortly. It pierces through you like a knife. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” You murmur.

You feel a pool of instant regret settling in your stomach as he turns his back towards you and goes to greet the other new starters.

What had you gotten yourself into?

____________________________

Link to chapter 3

Taglist: @luvrboygaslys-interacts @mossafiato

(if you drop a comment i'll tag or just let me know and i'll add you!! ily xoxo)

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tiiimbu · 4 years ago

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Commission Info

Requests open!

Hi hi, I’m going to write Identity V related fanfics and all. The idv fanfic fuel is too low for such a big fandom! Soo, here I am. “If it doesn’t exist, make it yourself” hehe...

Anyways, the last time I wrote fanfics was a few years ago, my mind is rusty and is gonna need some time to get used to it. Please be patient!

s/o will be gender neutral unless stated otherwise, also bc enbies don’t have many fanfics :<

I will be doing:

- Character x reader

- Headcanons

- Poly <3

- s/o with disability (mental or physical)

- don’t be afraid to ask something out of the list tho

I WON’T do:

- Nsfw

It’s awkward to write adult fun time... Sry, fellow nsfw lovers

- Yandere, gore, depression or suicidal (anxiety allowed)

personal reasons (aka mental health)

- Underage characters or old characters (mad eyes, percy)

- Character x character

I’m more comfortable writing for my comfort characters, but then again my heart is a dummy that falls in love with everyone. So, well, I’ll write for as many characters as I can! Unless I truly, strongly hate them with a passion... which is kinda rare

My comfort characters: Wu Chang, Robbie (PLATONICALY!! fbi pls don’t arrest me), Victor, Luca, Antonio and Luchino

#identity v #fanfic #identity v x reader #commision info #requests open #idv #request rules #rules

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oghoneytryst · 6 years ago

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savior;

continuation from the sunflower. series / part 3

where a fan becomes a friend

a/n: thank u for being so patient with this. my inspiration and writing just ... hasn’t been it lately, but I'm really pushing through and i am so happy to have finished this part. honestly, we’ve got a long road ahead of us, but I will try my absolute best to drive this wild ride down.

pls let me know how you feel about this part! pls be nice b/c I'm currently in sad bitch hours :-)

also sorry that tumblr is a weirdo and made the format for text super strange, idk what to do about it but i hope it doesn’t affect anything!

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~ Nov. 14 ~

Every digit embodies a shapely mark of intimidation; all ten, with their loops and their curves that shower in iridescence through her late morning eyes. Midnight ink saturates the sticky note’s pale yellow, tiny creases in the square body and little curls at the edges. She knows the value of this ordinary paper, and in her hands, it dances in the flame of eternal possibilities.

The pregnant woman sits on an office chair with desperation in her chest. Beneath the buttons and ruffles of her bright marigold blouse, her heart beats against her clammy skin. Heavy thighs stick to the squish of the chair, a mermaid’s tail in a muted pencil skirt. The material expands and shapes over her little bump; her growing joy; her inconvenient little bundle that she adores so much.

As a result of her punishable overthinking, she tears away the inside of her cheek, gnawing teeth at war by mindless command. In a pile of her worries, the minimal harm is at the very bottom. At the top are these ten digits that transfix her curious eyes. It isn’t as if she hasn’t considered dialing the number before. Insignificant pregnancy whines, however, cannot compare with the favor she would be asking of him now.

Without trouble, she recalls the days that had followed Harry’s visit. She recalls her tears on the couch, angry at nothing, angry at everything; the frustrating changes of her body, the awful work days. In all of her recollections, she complains to her roommate, who she admires greatly for putting up with all of her dramatics.

On the 6th, she had obsessively craved some Dippin’ Dots. It had been on the 6th that Aaron found himself arguing with a pregnant woman, a feat he had never wanted. It hadn’t mattered that such a pregnant woman had been his infuriatingly needy roommate, someone he actually does care for. He really had no trouble telling her no after her incredibly annoying behavior that afternoon.

She, of course, is never able to control her pregnant mannerisms. Yet, Aaron has always been suspicious of what she had been like prior to the bun in her oven. He has only ever known her as a woman-carrying-child in need, so perhaps during this process a lot of her personality hyphens instead of alters.

Nonetheless, her demand had been frankly impossible on the 6th. The nearest Dippin’ Dots is more than a half hour drive away from their home, and nighttime had been approaching soon. There hadn’t been a chance that Aaron would bear through Los Angeles traffic for, quote, “fucking balls of ice cream.”

So, with the fire of the sun drizzling to a bedazzling California sky, she had wept over nothing and everything at once. The timeline of her pregnancy had not made her emotions plausible. Instead, it had been the collective world turning against her on a tiring, unwelcomed day.

In the flash of a second, she had heard the ding in her fuzzy brain. The sticky note with the fruitful digits ... maybe he has some connections! Maybe he can bring us some! Do you think? If he’s not busy? What if he has a special freezer meant for his own supply of Dippin’ Dots?

It had been harmless on her part; an oh-so-bright idea crafted from a momentary desire for soft frozen food. She had been so close to make the call, if not for her dearest roommate and his not-so-delicate intervention. Aaron, the man who she believes admires Harry more than she does. With a high percentage of certitude, she knows he’d be first in line to invite the Cheshire man back to their unimpressive home.

In truth, that had been the reason for his disapproval of ringing him up that night. He believed it to be lunacy, sharp scissors at the ready in order to cut the special ties she had somehow knotted up with Harry. The man’s exact words – in that richly Northwestern accent – had been: “if you ever need something, please, don’t hesitate to call this number.” Something, in Aaron’s eyes, had not been anything. While he does not have a single doubt that the rock star would fly to her rescue in any situation, he advised against calling him for certain things.

Not everyone is so fortunate to have Harry in their lives. Aaron, with all of his respect for the man, knew that this had been a game to play carefully. If his pregnant roommate really enjoyed Harry’s company, she would have to play every card right, especially with a man as reserved as he is.

His points had been compelling, but she had not seen it as seriously. Her intuition had not stopped her from rethinking her decision once and twice and thrice. In the end, she had put her trust in Aaron’s madman words and had not called Harry. In the days that had followed, his charismatic voice lured in the back of her head whenever she scanned the sticky note, second-guessing herself about whether her temptation to call him had been worthy enough of his time.

It had been more difficult to resist calling when she had been alone one unfortunate night. The bustle of the neighborhood brought her to a reality that she did not particularly enjoy. Forced by the comfort of her pregnancy pillow, there had been a magnetic pull of the stars that whispered to her eyes through an overbearing distance.

She only wanted a friend that night. Someone to talk with, to hear their voice so that it could bring her back to the bit of sanity she had left. Previous nights, Aaron had been a solace for her, soft-spoken words lulling her to sleep after suffocating in the clouds for too long. Except that night, he ended up at his workplace until the late hour, and she recognized her loneliness as dangerously frightening.

For hours she cried, wanting a hug, wanting something to make her feel real and existent and safe. On that night, in her most calamitous moments, she later came to notice the vivacity of her swollen stomach. It had been – always is – comforting to feel something there, even without having to actually feel movement. It had been therapeutic to whisper her fears and truths. It had been on that night, she would never be alone again.

She hasn’t thought to call the number since. While it has only been a mere 10 days, there feels to be an infinite timeline of moments in-between. She knows it to be more accurate for him and his busy, ever-changing schedule.

They’d had a conversation last time, when he brought her that treasured gift. He sat on the dusty floorboards, her rested on a heavenly cloud with a smile to match. It had been simple, a little awkward at times, though never once had it felt forced. She feared them reverting back to strangers, to sense the shift in energy that would put a strain on her heart.

She scans the note again. xxx-xxx-xxxx. A dime of kisses, where no other option lies.

With her phone face-up on the receptionist’s desk, she rolls her eyes. Messages of apologies and excuses flood in, though her scant aggression dissolves into an antsy frown. She cannot be mad at Cindy/Sydney for cancelling on her, especially when she does not even know her actual name. The frustration of her anger devolves into frustration of herself, for this damn appointment that she had not set up a backup plan for.

“Excuse me?”

Breaking up with an intense, one-sided conversation, she raises her head to a sheepish man in his late 30’s, early 40’s. He stands at a short height on the other side of the receptionist’s desk, square glasses disguising his truest features.

She grins at him, a cheery delight overpowering her honest glum. “Hi, how are you?” her voice chirps, a shift in her behavior that she considers a skill-set. “What can I do for you today?”

“Uh, I’ve already spoken with you. I have an appointment with Sanders at 10 and you told me to fill out a form. I’m still waiting for it.”

The woman’s smile falters at the man’s irresolute explanation. He ends each sentence as though it is a question, not wanting to step on a wrong foot. She takes in his appearance, and there is familiarity in his rusty red, untucked polo.

“Right.” Her eyes close in repent of her common forgetfulness. “That’s right. I’m sorry.” She scurries to get the papers together on a clipboard, pushing the rolling chair in every different direction. “I’ve just been a little slow today.” The man laughs off the mistake, assuring her that there are no worries.

“Really, no trouble at all.”

He thanks her for the form once it is secure in his hands and walks to the waiting area. This accidentally precedes her rushing to hand him the sticky note, to which she quickly realizes her mistake before he has a chance to read the numbers. He sits down in a modern arm chair next to its twin, where a young preteen girl shifts around nervously. Out of plain assumption, she recognizes the pair as a father-daughter duo. The man smiles at the girl, crossing his legs, trying to console her nerves as best as he can with humor.

The pregnant receptionist smiles.

The ventilated air of the office smoothens in her lungs.

For her child, she would do anything – everything. As hesitant thoughts surge through in hungry waves, she dials the number in her phone anyway. In the back of her head, she contemplates whether it is actually his number or if it belongs to an assistant of his. It doesn’t sound completely off from what a celebrity would do. He doesn’t know who she is. It’s better to play it safe than to make a foolish mistake that he later regrets.

The trio of short, snippy buzzes vibrate through the line. It is an electric feeling, comforting almost to hear its warm murmur during her wait.

“—Hello?”

Her languid eyes illuminate in the mirror of neon signs; her body freezes over with a blizzard of nerves. His voice is somehow deeper than she remembers from 10 days ago, an ironic sultriness in his polite tone.

“Hello?” he asks again with a tad more infliction in the single word.

“...H-Hello,” she responds, tongue running dry and the last sensible part of her brain sabotaging her. Why didn’t I prepare for this? It is feasible that deep in her subconscious, she had expected an assistant to answer. She practically wanted an assistant to answer.

He repeats himself, “Hello,” a little more chirp in the melody of a mockingbird.

“Hi. Harry?”

“Who’s calling?”

The question stumbles her for a second. Is it good or bad that he cannot recognize her voice? Admittedly a consequence on her part for taking so long to reach out. She answers anyway, her name spoken with so much dubiety, but really, what is she afraid of?

“You know, the uh, the one from—”

“Oh—”

“From Mel’s and, the one with ... pregnant, y’know—”

“Yeah!” he exclaims, echoing her name through a mildly static output. “Of course. How are you? Doing alright? Baby’s fine?”

She pulls away from the phone to breathe, suddenly elated over his reaction. His charisma is virtually magical. She touches her cheek to the screen again to answer:

“I’m doing great, thank you. Baby’s fine, I hope.”

A delay of worry replaces his lack of an immediate response. “You hope? Why, what’s – is there something wrong?”

“No!” she bursts out, the father and daughter staring back at her in surprise. She nervously chuckles and smiles at them, deflating in her chair as she continues. “No, sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to say ... well, I’m sure the baby’s fine. Nothing feels wrong, but I do have an appointment for an ultrasound today.”

A faint crackle from the line resonates in her ear. She clearly pictures Harry’s sigh of relief.

“Really? That’s great. I hope it all goes well.”

“Thanks! Thank you, I do too—” she snickers, “Obviously, but I have uh ... there’s a bit of a predicament.”

“Predicament? Fancy word.”

“Right, well, it’s not so much of a fancy situation that I’m in. See, I was supposed to be picked up later today by Cindy Sydney so that she could take me from work to the appointment, but she just called and cancelled because she has to pick up her aunt from the airport. She got the dates mixed up somehow, which makes no sense because pregnancy has made me very forgetful, and even I didn’t get the dates wrong. I think that might have to do with the planner, it does keep me organized, but even then—”

“Darling,” Harry stops her, unaware of how she chokes on her own tongue at the endearment. Darling. Darling again! From darling to love, she is in a storm of beating hearts. “You’re gonna ‘ave to slow down. What – you don’t have a way to get to your appointment, is it?”

“Yes. Right. I don’t have enough for an Uber or a Lyft right now without affecting my budget for next month. She offered to pay for it, that or for cancellation fees, but I don’t really trust those kinds of transportations right now, and I already got approval from my manager, so switching the date would just be super inconvenient.”

“Right. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s just that no one else that I know of is available, and I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy. I wouldn’t be calling if—”

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m glad that you’re calling.”

The pregnant woman simpers, a needle pricking at her heart. “R-Really?”

“Of course. I would be more than glad to help. If you could just send me the location of your workplace and where you’re getting your ultrasound ... what time is your appointment?”

“At 2. I want to get there maybe fifteen minutes earlier. You’ll never know how much the traffic will back up at that time. Is it okay if uh ... are, are you picking me up or...?”

“Yeah, why?”

“N-No, nothing, I just ... didn’t know if you were busy. Didn’t want to assume.”

“Yeah, my schedule’s fine. Not really doing anything that I can’t do later, so everything’s fine.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Great. So, uh, is it okay if you arrive here at, say, one-oh-five-ish?”

“Oddly specific.” Harry chuckles. “But sure. I can make that happen.”

“Great! Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You’re quite welcome ... thank you for calling.”

While her appreciation for him has always been so strong, this heavy thump in her pink and red organ is nearly unbearable. Ever since he fell intertwining into her life, she tries her hardest to ignore whatever feelings may occur. Now it seems more ideal to control it than to suppress it.

“You’re welcome,” she speaks softly, 16 again with a crush on a boy. “Thank you for picking up.”

Unbeknownst to her, he smiles on the other end. “S’ my pleasure. Now, get back to work, you over-achiever!” His accent purposely thickens on his second sentence, eliciting a natural, honest laugh. “Don’t forget to send me the addresses. I’ll make sure everything works out.”

Their phone call ends with innocent expressions of repetitive gratitude and gentle goodbyes. The pregnant woman does not waste a second to send him the addresses via text message, not allowing herself to fall victim to her lapse of memory. She checks over the numbers, the street names, the zip codes – all more than once, to make sure that all is well and not in metaphorical flames.

new message: Got it. See you later. H

H. She bites on her silky lip, a refreshing taste from her natural balm. She is familiar with the signoff, though she doesn’t know if it is something he does regularly or if it is only a one-time confirmation that this is, in fact, his number. Does he expect her to save his ten digits in her contact’s list, somewhere underneath a family member and above an old friend? She is giddy, undoubtedly so. An unspoken dream of hers as a plain teenager unraveling into reality! It causes the brightest smile this orthodontist office has ever seen.

So much esteem fills her up at eleven in the morning, and to her expectation, the hours go by very slowly. Alternating clients, each with different lives, somehow bound to this one place and time. Sorting forms and making calls and opening emails; a distraction in one way or another, but neither can steal her attention entirely.

Due to a much-needed bathroom break, she almost misses the message. Relieving her bladder had not been the first or even second of the day, but it is important that she stays hydrated, and this is especially true during her pregnancy. She really cannot afford a preventable trip to the emergency room right now.

When she reaches the receptionist’s desk, the message hides behind the black screen of her phone for an entire minute. She is lucky that her outdated iPhone can still be trusted by reminding her of a message succeeding two minutes from when she receives it.

new message: I’m outside. Toyota Camry in black.

Despite her anticipation for his arrival, the message throws her off any and all guards. Primarily it is because he arrives six minutes before their agreed time, whereas her friends are usually a few minutes late. Secondarily...

“Toyota?” she whispers to herself, eyebrows arching together. She isn’t too up to speed with car models, but she is more than certain that Harry has driven some different sort of vehicles in his time. The only moment she can ever recall him in a Toyota had been that commercial he had done years ago.

Regardless, she raises steadily from her chair on wheels, pushing it back as she collects her belongings. It is without trouble that she notices the slight shake of her hand, the sweat collecting on different sections of her skin. She ignores it. “Ang!” she calls, groaning at the absolute mess of her work bag. It is more professional than her casual bucket bag, wide with its faux leather, but it is just as much of an interior travesty.

She picks up her phone to send a one-handed message:

Conch.

Coming*

Be out soon.

“Ang!”

There is a franticness to her as she steps around the receptionist’s desk. She sports an added height in her footwear, something that she tries to savor before her feet start to swell. She thinks it will be unbearable to wear heels then, but she’s not for certain.

“I’m here, I’m here!” Ang announces, stepping into the light of the front area in her navy scrubs. “Sorry, nena, I had an alarm set for one in case you forgot. Guess it didn’t go off.”

The pregnant woman watches her coworker situate herself on the rolling chair. “No, no, you’re fine, it’s not one yet. Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve been able to forget. I’m just so excited, you have no idea.”

“No, I don’t.” Ang smiles. “You’re about to see your child! That’s a huge deal.”

“I know! I know, I can’t wait.”

“I can. Especially until Stefan buys me a ring. Otherwise, I’m going to keep working on my career.”

The woman smiles at her friend, thanking her once more for taking over her station while she is gone. She repeats the same gratitude, expressing how much this truly means to her, because it all comes from her honest heart. She really is in awe of how willing people are to help her when she is in need.

“Also, turn that alarm off before it starts ringing. It makes me anxious every time I hear it.”

“You and I both.” Ang snickers. “You’re off to your appointment then?”

“Yes, my uh, my ride’s here so ... better early than late when it comes to these things, y’know?”

“Mm-hmm. Who’s taking you?”

The pregnant woman hesitates. “A friend. Has the day off from work, thankfully.”

Ang begins to sift through a small pile of paperwork, sparing her coworker a measly glance. She’s not unfamiliar with the receptionist’s work, so she takes this as an opportunity to rest her active legs. She can also recognize the strange tone of the pregnant woman, a shaky smile that carries suspicion.

She doesn’t think too much on it. “Great. Be safe. Let me know how it goes.”

For that, the pregnant woman is grateful. “Thank you.” She smiles, a frail wave in Ang’s direction as she blindly scurries away. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She almost runs belly first into the glass door, but stutters her movements before any panic arises from Ang. Still, she sighs with relief when she hears the chime above her pregnant coworker’s head. “...Be careful.”

“Got it! Bye!”

The woman’s face twists in agony as she exits the office. A tenacious heat buries her in an embrace. Parallel to the sidewalk she stands upon is a dark vehicle, a protective tint rises from the brim of the tires and extends beyond the sleek windows. She gravitates in its direction at the sound of the passanger door unlocking, considering it symbolic, the single click of the door a new breath of feasibilities.

She stalks a couple feet to her right where the car reeks with caution. It isn’t until the passanger windows rolls down that she can sense her blood settle and burst all at once. “Hi.” Harry leans forward at his side, revealing his face amongst the darkness of his surroundings.

“Hey, hi,” she greets him back through the open window. “Good to see you. Nice car.”

“Thanks.” He smiles, scarce eyes pulling to her every movement. In the most mundane activities – fingertips at the door handle, crouching to the seat, buckling the seatbelt – she highlights his curiosity. “Good to see you as well. Also, s’ actually not my car.”

With her lips as barriers around a reusable straw, she pretends to be surprised. “It’s not?” she smacks her tongue, relishing in the purity of her water.

Harry shifts the gear in drive, setting the GPS up and maneuvering out of the lot with high-alert. “No. I’ve borrowed it.”

“Why—”

“Starting route to—” The animatronic voice interrupts their conversation.

She tries again, “Why would you do that?” with slight disappointment in their reunion. It lacks excitement, but somehow picks up where it’s been left off. No longer a drastic stretch in time are those 10 days.

Harry shrugs casually, turning onto the main road where other vehicles swim along. “Draws less attention.” He pauses, to which she then decides to look over. With the exception of him driving, she gets the impression that he avoids her eyes more so to keep her from catching the sadness in his. There is only a sprinkle, a shimmer that is never truly absent. “Thought you’d might be a little anxious about your appointment,” he continues, “Didn’t want you to have to worry about something else.”

“Oh.” She warms up, her organs all collectively combusting. “Thanks. Thank you for thinking of that.” Her words express gratitude with ease, but the glimmer in her eyes twinge with empathy. She doesn’t ponder over her privacy, or how simple it is for her to go out and do as she pleases. Since his 16th year, he had not been so lucky.

“Of course,” he replies, professionally monotone, as though he can shut off even the faintest flicker of emotion. “S’ my pleasure. How are you feeling? Nervous?”

“Uh, yeah, a little. I’m really jittery and I’ve been drinking water nonstop. On top of that, my bladder is the size of a bean. I’m really good at holding it in though, so I’m not afraid of ruining your seats or anything. Or ... not your seats, but your seats for now. Not like ... not that you were even thinking about that...”

Harry chuckles throughout the entirety of her run-on spoken thoughts. It is never at her – no, never. It is because of her, because despite any situation, she is this fountain of goodness drowning in gold. “Very nervous then?” he teases.

“Yeah ... sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. Nothing to be ashamed about. It’s an important day for you. I’d expect—”

“Turn left on—”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he finishes, lowering the volume of his pesky GPS. “Must be surreal, if anything.” The robotic voice is still present, but becomes more of a background noise that allows them both to speak freely.

“Oh yeah, completely. It’s like ... it’s like I can’t feel them yet, like movement wise, but ... I don’t know. I guess ... obviously I know they’re in there, but even without movement I can feel them. I know they’re present, heartbeat and everything. Does this – is any of this making sense?”

“Yeah,” he quips amusingly, “it is. Even if it didn’t, doesn’t matter. It makes sense to you and that’s more than enough validation.”

“Mmm. Right, but it’s still nice to have someone understand.”

Harry sneaks a glance in his peripheral, inhaling and exhaling as to settle into the moment. “I know—”

“In 500 feet, keep right—”

“What was, uh—” he digs into another topic, the robotic voice somehow a savior that refreshes the conversation. “What you said on the phone about ... Sin City, I think it was?”

“What?”

“You said something about being picked up near Sin City? From your work to your appointment? I thought there might’ve been a store or somethin’ near your job, but I don’t think I saw anything like that.”

“Sin ... oh!” The woman laughs, slapping her knee consciously. “Cindy Sydney. She’s my ... well, yeah, I guess she’s my friend.”

“Cindy Sydney?” he repeats, slowly enunciating every syllable so as to make sure he’s got it right. “Huh. Eh ... that airport story makes more sense. Didn’t know who you were talking about.”

“Yeah, my bad. I know I tend to ramble, probably explains why no one calls me anymore. They can’t even understand what I’m saying.”

“I understood!” he proclaims, expression of his pride lacing around his lazy smile. “Yeah, got it now. Cindy Sydney. That’s really her name? Like ... Phillip Phillips?”

“No.” The woman laughs, almost choking on her water. “N-No, it’s ... I don’t know her name, to be honest. One of them might be it.”

“Wh—how do you not know?”

“Okay, so basically, I met her maybe a month and a half ago? Somewhere around two months, I guess. And it wasn’t like this everyday sort of meeting at, say, a retail store or something. Can you believe that one night I wake up to use the bathroom I half-pay for, and this woman who I’ve never seen before comes out, no pants, maybe underwear, and what I now assume to be Aaron’s shirt?”

“Aaron?” Harry questions nonchalantly, as though the thought of him is of half-importance. “What, like a—”

“Yeah, so, he usually never brings anyone home. If anything, he’ll go over to someone else’s and come back really early in the morning. So, picture me, pregnant, really loopy because I have to pee, half-awake mind you, running into a complete stranger in my own home.”

Harry adds dramatically, “In the middle of the night!”

“Exactly! So, while I’m tiredly freaking out, trying to not literally piss myself, she’s apologizing and introducing herself. I don’t know if I heard Cindy or Sydney, hence why she’s both, but it could be neither. Anyway, we ended up talking in the hallway and I told her about my situation and why I was living with Aaron. She was actually really nice and offered to drive me whenever I needed a ride.”

“Hmm. Interesting how that played out.” He shoots her a look, to which she can only shrug. “Why haven’t you asked Aaron what her name is?”

“I did! I think he’s annoyed that I befriended his one night stand because he told me her name was Sierra. Then again, he probably doesn’t know himself.”

“Jesus. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Oh, it’s too late for that. I’ll just be extremely awkward. I really do feel bad about it though. She is a nice person, except for, y’know, cancelling on a pregnant woman. I mean, it’s not a huge deal or anything, but ... c’mon. Would you ever do something like that?”

“Dunno,” he playfully smirks, “Maybe if she forgot my name...”

“I didn’t forget it! I never knew it!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking. But I have noticed that you like to play the, uh, the pregnant card a lot.”

“Oh yeah!” she fixes her position on the seat, pulling the seatbelt to her preferred adjustment. “Not a doubt about it. Coming from a place where no one really took me seriously. I mean, yeah, maybe I was a little dramatic when I was younger, but that shouldn’t invalidate my feelings. Now it’s like ... you have to take me seriously. Not only am I going to raise a child on my own, I’m literally growing said child inside of me. Isn’t that just ... just fucking amazing?”

Harry stops at the red stoplight, which he is glad for, because now he can look over and mesmerize at her. He can see before him a woman who smiles at the window, water bottle between her thighs, hands on her belly. It’s grown a bit, he thinks, and it is truly, wonderfully, unimaginably powerful.

“Yeah,” he silently agrees, “fuckin’ amazing.”

The woman smiles, but her wandering eyes suddenly widen with worry. She holds her hands out, an aura around her belly as she props an inch forward. “Did I...” she thinks aloud, “I didn’t ask you how you were doing today. How are you, Harry?”

She looks at him with features full of soft inquiry. The now green light ever so symbolic, he wonders how magical such a mundane thing must be in the dark of the night. “M’ alright,” he answers, pressing on the gas, somewhat wishing that the drive never ends. “Thank you for asking.”

Her angled feet dangle from her seat on the examination table. Harry sits in front of her on a separate chair, leaning back in a position juiced with supremacy. His index finger taps against his lips in sync with the tick of the black and white wall clock.

“So, you work as an orthodontist?”

She looks to Harry with her body stiff in discomfort. “No,” she answers, noticeably quieter in such a mellow area. “Just at the office. I’m a receptionist. Didn’t go to like ... an orthodontist school or anything. Even if I did, I’d probably still be there. Probably takes a lot of years.”

“Right,” he agrees. “A receptionist, then? Do you like it?”

“Sure. It’s not my dream job, but it pays the bills. Plus, I get along with everyone in the office. They’re like ... my distant second family.”

“Alright...” he gradually begins to smile. “What’s your dream job then?”

The woman shrugs, so quickly that it is considerably sad. “I don’t know. I went to community college undecided.”

“What did you graduate in?”

“Well, I got my A.A., but beyond that I haven’t ... finished. I transferred to the nearest University but after a semester or two I just ... I just didn’t finish.” She looks to her lap where her fingers play with the material of her blouse. Harry discreetly frowns at her dejected expression, an ambience of regret seeping out of her system. “It’s hard enough for people to get a job with a Bachelor’s degree. Competition is high, especially in Los Angeles. I’m lucky as it is with just my A.A.”

“Yeah. I understand. M’ sorry for bringing it up. Didn’t mean to pry.”

Her features immediately shine with worry. “No, it’s completely fine. I’m the same way. Always curious.” She forces a laugh, but the intention is sincere enough. “If anything, thank you for asking, or even ... caring at all. Not a lot of people show an interest in me, especially not after this one.”

She points an accusatory finger to her belly, which he takes as another opportunity to marvel. It is so fascinating to him, as he believes it would be to anybody. This power she holds, the strength she gives off. This strange and endearing woman who he had met by questionable circumstances of fate – she opens his eyes to something he’s not quite sure of yet.

“Anyway, being a receptionist is fine for me,” she continues. “I’m basically Pam Beasley except knocked up and without a Jim Halpert. I mean, she was pregnant twice, but by then she was already married.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Oh ... um, The Office reference.”

“Ah. Alright. Still haven’t seen it.”

“Finished the series again. At least Pam wasn’t a receptionist forever.” She allows her eyes to wander around the room. “...Thanks for coming in with me,” she offers, meekly smiling amidst a thick, awkward air. “I’m sorry if it’s super weird, they’re probably going to assume you’re the dad, so just so you know—”

“Oh—”

“Just so you can be prepared—”

“Right, no, it’s fine. It’s good. That’s fine.”

“...Really?”

“Of course. I mean ... like, I’m not the father, duh, but it’s harmless. I’m honored to be here with you either way.”

She looks down to her belly, where her freshly painted nails – she’d recoated for the special occasion – search tenderly. “I didn’t ... picture it like this. Not everyone wants to have a baby, or get married, or things like that. But those who do ... you just can’t help but picture it, y’know? You dream about your wedding, what the venue will look like, what you’ll dance to or wear. Or when you have a kid, you imagine that first look. Your first look at your baby to know they’re actually in there, and you can almost see your whole future right before your eyes.”

By now, Harry is in a trance of both comprehension and disbelief. For him, it is difficult to find people in which he can relate his thoughts to; someone he can honestly understand. With the spontaneous flow of his life, he isn’t able to picture the future as he once did at 16. Yet, as her defenseless words spew out, he contemplates the quick flash in his eyes.

She smiles, and though it does not reach her eyes, it is authentic in the purest sense. “I ... wish the circumstances were different. No one ever really wants to picture it like this.”

He doesn’t find offense in her honestly, no matter how poorly she constructs it. If anything, with his entire body and soul, he aches to turn back time. “I understand,” he says, because while she most certainly does not need or depend on the father, she had pictured it differently. He knows that she had pictured herself to be in love instead of broken and built up again. She doesn’t need him, but she wants him, at least a little bit. It is for that that he can never entirely hate him.

“...Except you,” she confesses shyly. “And I’m not just saying that for obvious reasons. If you weren’t here, I’d be alone. I probably wouldn’t even be here. That’s why I’m always thanking you, because it really does mean more than you can imagine. Being alone is fine, I can sort of manage, but ... it’s nicer to have someone with you, y’know?”

“...Yeah.” Harry blushes, failing to cover it up with a cough and a sniffle. “I’m ... I know. I understand.”

The sound of the door unlatching rattles their bodies. “Hi!” the doctor storms in, breaking their moment. The two of them smile, the pregnant woman nods as her name from the lips of the lady in the form of a question. “This must be papa?”

The pregnant woman silently snickers at her oh-so-psychic abilities. She offers Harry a witty raise of the brow, but due to the blindness of her pride, she fails to recognize the cheeky glint in his eyes. As she opens her mouth to deny the doctor’s innocent assumption, Harry chimes in and steals her words. Except, they’re not her words at all.

“Yes,” he announces, his accent supplying to the playful sarcasm of his tone. “Yes, that is me. As Maury would say ... I am the father.”

To say she is shocked ... well, it is not all that off-character. Harry is a humorous man, one that loves to entertain. The statement makes her do a double-take, jaw opening with a single throaty chuckle. He responds with an animated grin and cartoon wink – how can she not play along?

“Right.” She nods. “This is my baby daddy ... Halpert.”

Harry snickers, but covers it with a cough. “Halpert. Yes. Says so on my birth certificate.”

The doctor smiles at them both, amused by their charade. She has probably seen many acts in this office, so she lets their humor be. Besides that, she begins by asking a few simple questions, reconfirming everything before directing the woman to lie on her back.

“Sorry I didn’t dress practically,” she discloses, “I just came from work. Didn’t really have time to change, or even think about bringing clothes to change into.”

“It’s no problem. We’ll just open this up...” The doctor starts with the lowest button on her blouse, continuing to undo the following three. “And lower this down a little,” she continues, carefully dragging the upper part of her pencil skirt down until her belly is nicely exposed.

The pregnant woman tries to ignore the discomfort that she feels. Firstly, lying on her back is a nightmare without her pillow. Secondly, with her blouse pried open, a mere centimeter of her bra peaks out. Harry sitting next to her is the third basis of her discomfort, intense concentration on his part with the upmost awareness. The fourth, the icing on the cake, is like literal icing. While the doctor had told her to prepare for the cool gel, it doesn’t make it any less frosty on her skin.

Despite it all, her minds swivels around a haze. The doctor’s equipment runs along her stomach, eager to discover. Her hands clench without her noticing. She feels as if her lungs run out of oxygen – she forgets to breathe! Nothing is important to her other than what the doctor has to say about what can be seen on that unreadable screen, the one where she strains her neck to catch even a glimpse of meaningless motion.

She looks to the doctor, taking in every feature that may indicate something, anything. She momentarily forgets about Harry, who leans forward in his seat, risking everything by placing a hand over her knuckles. She doesn’t notice. All she can focus on is the doctor’s smile.

“Found them,” she announces, continuing her movement with more confidence than before.

“You...” the pregnant woman’s chest deflates. Her breath hitches, needing more than two words to convince her that everything is okay. “...You found?”

“Yes. There’s the head,” the doctor points to the screen, brown muck never more beautiful. “the body...” The woman listens, matching up the body part with the picture on the screen. A wave of newfound contentment vanishes every worry away – almost, because really, she can’t help herself. “Everything looks great, mama.”

“Mom...” she stumbles out, swallowing thickly as her fingers fall loose. She shakes her head, overcome with every emotion she’s ever known on top of those that are entirely new to her.

Harry smiles at her, noticing the light drips swaying down her cheeks. “That’s your baby,” he says, disregarding the possibility of destroying his cover as Halpert. He himself begins to empathize with this woman, this calm of a storm that he’s only known for a few short weeks. “Congratulations.”

“C—” She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the screen, the ache in her neck multiplying, but she just doesn’t care. “My baby...” she speaks softly, the room almost entirely silent, but still it feels like there are a million things going on at once. And yes, she is smiling. She is over the moon, over this entire universe and the next. It is dangerous territories to be so elevated, and she knows this to be true when she begins to feel the low.

A bitter California sun never truly settles. When she walks out of the imaging center, heels scraping against the dry and jagged sidewalk, she winces and sighs. Her blouse now intact, her skirt lifted again, but the residue of the gel makes it stick to her skin more than any perspiration. In her hands, she holds onto the envelope with the printed pictures of her son or daughter – she doesn’t know yet. With the baby’s position, it had been a little hard to tell. She’s relieved for it though. There had only been so much that she could absorb in such a short, life-changing moment.

Harry follows after her, already with his shaded sunglasses scooted close to his face. He mimics her position as she leans against the side of the Toyota, staring down at an enclosed envelope. Very steadily, she lifts the flap open and slides the picture out, running a thumb over the body of her child.

“Sorry you couldn’t find out the gender today,” he speaks up, observing the way she cradles the print. It is natural, the way she possesses that tender quality of a mother. “Must have ... must be—”

“It’s fine,” she says, not wanting to hear the end of his sentence. “It’s not like I’ll never know.”

“Right.”

“Good. Still a beautiful moment, eh?”

“Yeah...”

“Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

She looks up at him, but the connection is blocked by his sunglasses. She smiles either way. “You’re welcome. That sounds weird to be saying.”

He looks down, ankles crossed, hands in his pocket. “I know I can’t, um ... ever know what you’re feeling, but ... how are you feeling?”

“...Good?”

“What I mean is ... I’ve never been to an ultrasound. I’ve been friends with lots of pregnant women, and I know that doesn’t mean I have a clue about ... I just, for the moments like these, I imagine the woman to be happy. Happier than happy, and I just ... I don’t know. How are you feeling?”

A period of elongated seconds pass as the pregnant woman considers his talk. Birds chirp, an ambulance sounds in the near distance, and the faintest wind kisses her face with the leaves of the rustling trees. “I’m ... happy,” she answers truthfully, closing her eyes as the burn in her chest rises up her throat and to her nose.

“And...” Harry presses on, noticing how her answer hangs off the edge of a cliff.

She swallows, face molding like a ceramic statue on which the rain pours. “...And scared.” Her voice quivers. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She’s far too cowardly to envision the colors.

Harry stands still, watching as she unravels the rawest parts of her. He doesn’t want to ask why – it should be obvious to everyone. She is a single mother-to-be. Her life is moving quicker than she could have ever imagined. Of course, she is scared. It would be strange of her not to be. Therefore, he doesn’t ask, but instead calls to her. In a faint second, she breathes in, coming alive to the world again. Her shaky hands wipe frantically at her blinking eyes, a sorry attempt to erase the remnants of her weakness.

“God...” she scoffs. “I can’t – why am I crying? This is so dumb.”

Harry shakes his head, his entire body now turning to her. “No, it’s not. So, you’re scared. Everyone is. I am. Why wouldn’t you want to be scared?”

“Because I don’t know what I’m doing!” she bellows, entirely turning to him. As her words sink in and flow on, he slides off his glasses, letting them hang from the fine stitch of his t-shirt collar. “Or – or what I’m going to do. I’m ... I was a child yesterday. That’s what it felt like. I was ... searching for independence and purpose and now I’m...” A breath trickles out. “I don’t want to ruin this child, Harry. But I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing.”

“No,” Harry argues. “No, you won’t. I know you won’t. You’re going to do everything you possibly can for your child. That alone makes you an incredible mum.” By now, his hands are on her shoulders, thumbs absentmindedly smoothening her nerves. “And incredible mums don’t know the answer to everything, that’s what makes them so incredible. They don’t know anything!”

She sniffles at the sidewalk. “Yours does,” she mumbles, indicating how well-rounded she sees this kind man. The manner in which he had been raised ... he is a foundation for reckless excellence.

“To be fair, I’m her second child,” he reasons, even tittering a little. “When she had my sister, she didn’t know what she was doing ... but she learned. Even after all these years, she’s still learning. You can’t expect yourself to be perfect ... at least, perfect without any flaws. You’re scared, that’s ... it’s important. You can’t skip that stage, alright?”

She reluctantly nods, but she has to admit to herself that his charisma is magical. To be a mother at her age – perhaps it is not uncommon. Yet, it is a vague new-coming of an experience. This growth that she possesses, her body ever-changing in the autumn to spring, the little person that will resemble parts of her and no one else. If that is not a future more uncertain...

“You’re going to be excellent. An excellent mum. And you’re not alone. You have Aaron. Maybe Cindy Sydney Sierra, if her aunt’s not visiting ... and you always have a friend in me.”

...but how sad it would be to plan every waking moment and every dying night. How safe it would feel to stumble upon no surprise. In the end, a future without uncertainty is no future at all. She doesn’t know what she will do when her baby fusses and whines and drives their mother to insanity. Previously oblivious of the happiness it will bring, the overwhelming flutter in her chest is a euphoric feeling like no other. To love another person unconditionally, entirely – to be loved in return – that is the greatest and only certainty she will never need.

#honeytryst

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zeonghan · 8 years ago

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Hi! Can I pls have a written ship w BTS&SVT? I'm imaginative, creative & open-minded. I'm compassionate & easily angered by injustice. I want to help people. I'm curious w varied interests, esp. in the humanities/arts. I like to write, read & draw. I deeply value friendship & I enjoy thoughtful conversations. I'm introspective, but I overthink a lot. I can be a massive dork w a weird sense of humor. I try to be a patient & supportive friend! I constantly strive for self-improvement. Thank you!

disclaimer: because neither of us have ever done these before we will be RUSTY AF and we don’t mind if a little later on you re-request if you’re

written ships include: meeting, initial and second impression, interaction, aesthetic and short reason why i personally ship :’)

also hey hello we should b friends

Seventeen: WonwooMeeting: Sunday morning at a free pottery class. It was something new and something your friend was working at so you wanted to be supportive.Initial Impression: Wonwoo likes your laugh and thinks you’re much more clever than him because the things you laugh at are often comments and remarks that he doesn’t find humour in, assumes you catch onto things quickly.Second Impression: Wonwoo knows you’d rather be asleep or resting, it’s 9.30am after all, but you keep enthusiastic and work on your pottery.

Interaction: Wonwoo asks for your help with the spinning wheel even though he’s been attending pottery class for three years

night time DMCs (deep meaningful conversations); yellow early autumn leaves; velvet blue; studying philosophy; boppin’ to bops lol; sitting at opposite ends of the library to help each other study without distraction; always making sure the other has had meals/enough water; matching shoes on accident; standing shoulder to shoulder; the sound of fresh whipped cream out of the can.

Your personalities go together like butter on toast (sorry if you don’t like butter - or toast). Personally, I view Wonwoo as someone who prefers to stay in their comfort zone. Based on the personality of those he’s said he got along with best - Woozi, Hoshi, Mingyu - I can picture you and Wonwoo. You are someone who seems to have a liberal (? is this even the right word for it?? idk im sorry its 2 am …) viewpoint on things. You have a refreshing but warm personality which is perfectly what Wonwoo needs to take more risks and would be constantly inspired by each other.

AAAH IMSORRY THIS WAS SO BAD OMGHHAHAHAH but also sincerely sorry :((

BTS: Hoseok

Meeting: Watching a pool game at a restaurant - you know those kinds, with pool tables and arcades and a bar and such to entertain. You’re friends wanted to play and also see if cuties were lurking.

Initial Impression: Hoeseok in a string of thoughts: Why are they standing to the side?? Why aren’t they playing?? Why are they talking about politics?? WhEN POoL iS tHE gREaTeST GAmE hUH

Second Impression: Hoseok learns eavesdrops that you don’t know how to play pool. And that you are very considerate of your friends.

Interaction: Offers to teach you, but you politely decline. He spends the rest of the night trying to catch your attention but doesn’t until the bar closes. You tell your friends to wait for you outside as you quickly use the bathroom when you come out you see Hoseok helping the staff by delivering everyone’s plates to the kitchen without needing to, striking up smooth conversations.

white sheets in the morning sun; low-quality photos; yellow smiley faces; oversized hoodies; riding the bus or walking instead of by car; buying snacks at gas stations; drinking ice cold water when you’re parched; trying to teach each other things like dance, humanities and pool; being emotionally available.

You and Hoseok are very alike in the sense that both of you are compassionate, open-minded, creative, and value similar things in life. This would significantly reduce conflict in this relationship as both of you are willing to learn the other side of the story and are patient with each other when you guys need space. Hoseok would be even more attracted to you because of your dorkiness; he finds that it’s what really gives your the defining colours and lifts your smiles.

#sassocrates #seventeen ships #seventeen #bts ships #jung hoseok #jhope #jeon wonwoo #kpop #written ships

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ahrorha · 5 years ago

Text

Flame of Winter

Chapter 28

The Inquisition changed after the defeat of Corypheus. Now they had achieved their main goal, the sense of urgency that drove them was gone. It was a time for celebration, and honour those who had fallen and who stood against a great evil. Hundreds of birds arrived at Skyhold carrying congratulations and invitations to several events. Josephine worked hard to sift through them and discuss with Leliana, Ryan and Vivienne, which of the gatherings they would attend.

Apart from celebrations, there was also a sense of completion. Soldiers and scouts took the opportunity to return home and reunite with their families. Several caravans were preparing to leave Skyhold and return to Orlais and Fereldan. Dorian had arranged to join one of them. He would travel to Jader and take ship to Cumberland. From there he would join another caravan and travel back to Tevinter. .

“Now, I despise goodbyes. So let's make this quick.” Dorian huffed to Iron Bull, Varric and Eirlana, who had come to say farewell.

Varric raised his drink flask. “Sparkles, watch yourself back in the Imperium.”

“Goodbye, Dorian.” Eirlana gave him a hug. “I will miss you.”

“Oh, don't do this to me.” he hugged her back. “Just promise me, you won't do anything stupid again.”

She knew he meant the lyrium incident, she nodded. “I promise.”

“Kadan.” Iron Bull stepped forward.

“I see we still doing the names.” Dorian complained, but Eirlana noticed a slight blush on his cheeks.

Iron Bull took Dorian in a big bear hug and lifted him off his feet. They gave each other a long, intense kiss.

“Alright, then.” Blushing even more, Dorian tucked his clothes straight and took his seat on one of the wagons. “Farewell.” he waved as the caravan started to move.

“Safe journey Sparkles.” Varric shouted after him. They all watched the caravan roll down the mountain path. Iron Bull was the first who excused himself, and Eirlana knew he would go to the tavern to have a drink.

“Things will not be the same without him being around.” Varric sighed.

Eirlana simply nodded.

Varric scratched the back of his head and sighed again. “Snowflake, I will also leave soon. A ship will be waiting for me after the ball at the Winter Palace.”

For a moment, she stared at her feet. She knew this had been the first of many goodbyes.

“There are a lot of problems in Kirkwall that need to be fixed.” Varric continued. “And I need to go and see my publisher about all my “unsold” books in Orlais. Also, the Merchants Guild keeps bothering me. And if I am being honest, I miss home.”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Varric. I understand.” she smiled at him. “You must miss your friends.”

“I do. You know, you are more than welcome to join me.” he smirked at her. “Kirkwall may not be the most peaceful or beautiful city, but you would be away from this.” he pointed towards Skyhold. “And I know a lot of people who would be thrilled to get to know you.”

Eirlana slowly shook her head. She knew he meant well, but she wasn't ready to leave the Inquisition just yet. Though she knew Solas wouldn't come back, she wanted to stay here where he could find her. Not that he always could find her through the Fade. It was silly, but she was afraid to leave the place she had shared with him. Leaving here would make her feel like they had parted for good, and she couldn't do that. There was also Leliana, if there was any chance of someone finding a trace of Solas, it would be her and her network of spies.

“Thank you Varric, but I will stay here for the time being.”

“Think about it. You still have some time before I leave.”

True to his word Varric left after the grand ball given by Emperor Gaspard, but he wasn't the only one.

Sera disappeared on their way to Halamshiral, leaving only a note with a crude drawing of herself giving a dead Corpy-face the finger. Eirlana was sure Sera had returned to her life as a Red Jenny, to resume her campaign of helping ordinary people and pestering the nobility of Orlais.

During the ball, the Chantry made the official announcement that Cassandra Pentaghast was a candidate for the Sunburst Throne. Confirming the rumours that everyone already heard about her becoming the next Divine. As a result, Cassandra left for Val Royeaux to begin the preparations. Vivienne accompanied her, stating that she was needed to assemble the last loyal mages and help to create the foundation for a new Circle of Magi.

It resulted in that when Eirlana returned a few weeks later to Skyhold, only she, Iron Bull and Blackwall were left from the Inner Circle. Somehow it made her more aware that her life had changed and that the coming months would be difficult and very lonely.

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

Eirlana

I am finally back in Tevinter. I can't say I miss being at Skyhold. Why anyone would build a fortress in the middle of the freezing mountains is a mystery to me. It is so refreshing to be able to sit outside in the sun without the need to cover oneself completely with layers of fur.

. I have gotten in contact again with an old friend of mine, Maevaris. She is a Magister but far more interesting than the older stuffy members of the Magisterium. It has been amusing to hear al the disturbance our little spat with Corypheus has brought. Apparently, it has caused quite a shift in the balance of power. Officially nothing has changed, of course, and everyone is keeping quiet about their personal opinion about the whole situation. But tongues are wagging in the halls and private chambers.

Maevaris has agreed with me that something has to change within the Imperium. We are planning to work together against the corruption that is ruling my homeland. We are going to try to find people who think like us.

Wish me luck, I have the feeling my charm has become rusty since I have been in the South.

You should know I have also taken a stance against slavery and its cruel and exploratory nature. Like Solas once said to me; “A society built on the bones of those without a voice, is a society doomed to failure.”

As of yet, I haven't much luck to convince others of the wrongness of the system, but I won't give up. You know what they say in for a penny in for a royal.

Speaking of Solas, have you heard anything from him? If you have, tell him I have a few words ready for him for leaving you like that. If you heard nothing. Well, let me know if I can help in any way.

Dorian

Oh, and be a dear, and tell Iron Bull to write me back, will you. I hear far too little from that big oaf.

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

Dorian,

Skyhold has gotten very quiet without you being here. I miss hearing you complains whenever I am in the library.

The last couple of months have been dreadful. Ryan is dragging me from feast to feast, all thrown in his honour. I am not sure why, but he keeps me close, although he made it clear he no longer trusts me. Not that it hasn't restricted him in offering my services to Orlesian nobility. Though my patience with them is wearing very thin, and I am tempted to summon a storm the next time someone tries to touch me.

At least I have found a kindred soul in Cullen. It was most amusing to see the nobility gasp the first time I was his “official” companion. Although I don't think it was approved by Ryan or Leliana, and I can only imagine all the letters Josephine got asking about our supposed affiliation.

Did you know we are planning to elope and escape to Antiva? There were also a couple of Rivaini pirates, three assassinations and a dwarf named Pirin in that particular rumour. I have never seen Cullen blush so much in his life when Josephine's sister told us about it.

Sadly all these ridiculous rumours aside, it is the other rumours that bother me more. Word is spreading around in the Inquisition that I am being watched because I have become “unstable and dangerous.”

I wouldn't mind them, except they are beginning to affect my work. People are becoming cautious around me or even hostile, and many of my patients are wary and nervous when I am treating them. Nowadays my work is a far cry from that what it once was. That and the constant watch of the templars doesn't make life at Skyhold pleasant at the moment.

Ironically I am “safe” enough to still come along on Ryan's missions. Not that he has many choices of companions nowadays. Everyone has left, except for me, Iron Bull and Blackwall. We have now one of Leliana's rogues accompany us, but it is not the same. I miss hearing Varric's and Serra's stories when we are on the road or camp at night.

I have told Iron Bull that he needs to take care of you. He has promised to better himself, although he seems distracted somehow. I think he still has a hard time from losing the Chargers, he hasn't been the same since. And also with you now gone he has little to look forward to after a days work. It worries me.

No, I haven't heard anything from Solas, and I miss him terribly. You don't want to know how often I think I see him whenever someone bald walks near me. I never noticed before that so many bald people existed.

I wish you luck with finding new allies and trying to change things in Tevinter, but please be careful. Some of those in power will not take kindly to your ideas, and you know what they will try to do if you are succeeding.

It will take a while before I can write to you again. When this letter reaches you, I will be in the Deep Roads. The dwarves of Orzammar have asked for Ryan's help. Apparently, there are problems with the lyrium mines, and Ryan is anxious to aid them. He is probably scared his own lyrium supply will be affected if we do nothing.

And yes, I will be careful. I have no intentions to get close to anything blighted.

I haven't told Varric yet about our next destination. I know he will be against it.

Eirlana

Ps. don't worry, I have kept my promise.

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowflake,

What is this, I heard? You went to the Deep Roads? Has nothing I told you, taught you to stay far away from that place?

I tell you nothing ever good comes from the deep.

I pray you haven't caught the blight, it was hard enough to see Sunshine getting it. Hawke had to end her life, and I don't want the same thing happen to you. Write me, as soon you are back on the surface!

Things are looking up in Kirkwall, I have managed to finally find divers to free the harbour from those glowing rocks that fell from the Fade. Now I am in debt to Rivaini, but I could have guessed that people from Rivain aren't afraid to get their feet wet. Although the new Grand Cleric didn't seem pleased that I invited a whole bunch of people that don't believe in the Maker to Kirkwall.

The High Lords and Ladies are happy, on the other hand, but they are making me nervous. I get too many letters and messages from them and also the Merchants Guild is getting more persistent. Something is brewing, and for once, it is not my coffee.

In any case, I have written to our dear Inquisitor. There are a few rifts here that he needs to take care off. Try to come with him if you can. We'll get into a game of Wicked Grace.

Varric

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowflake,

You are beginning to frighten me. You know, you have forced me to get in contact with the Merchants Guild to get this letter to all the dwarven outposts in the Deep Roads.

Write me as soon as you read this. It doesn't matter if you have to bribe the dwarven runners or steal the Inquisition's fastest bird, just let me know that you are okay.

Don't force me to come and look for you in those blasted Deep Roads, because I will. Sparkles is also worried about you and Tiny. He is already trying to hire some Grey Wardens to aid us, and I have polished Bianca and talked Fenris into coming with us. We will leave for your entrance as soon as Sparkles reaches Kirkwall.

Trust me you don't want me to find you down there with Broody and a mage from Tevinter in tow. Things will get messy.

I say it again. Write me!

Varric

------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Dear Varric and Dorian,

Sorry that I have worried you, but I am alright. You can call off your rescue mission, but I must confess I was never this glad to see the sun again. I don't understand how the dwarves we have met here, can live all their lives without ever coming up to the surface.

Anyway, we have struggled to finish Ryan's mission. We had a lot of setbacks on our way, and not everyone that accompanied us has survived. Don't worry Dorian, Iron Bull is safe and sound, and I will remind him to write to you.

I will write to you both in more detail soon. For now, I am going to sleep under the stars and soak in the fresh air.

Eirlana.

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorian,

I am afraid I will be out of touch for a while again.

Ryan is going on an expedition to the South, and he is taking Iron Bull and me with him. He wants to aid some Orlesian scholar in finding the remnants of the last Inquisitor. Apparently, he disappeared in the lands of the Avvar 800 years ago.

We are going with a larger support team this time, but I have no idea how often I will be able to write. At least we are not going underground this time, that is my hope anyway.

It will be a long and interesting journey. Ryan is in a foul mood since Blackwall has left. It turns out, he wasn't Blackwall at all, but a man called Rainier, who is a wanted criminal in Orlais. Blackwall has turned himself in, and I haven't heard anything from him since.

I hope Ryan's mood will brighten once we have reached our destination, or this will become a long and tedious endeavour.

I, myself, am excited to meet the Avvar. They have a whole culture not based on the Maker, and I am looking forward to see their way of life. I only hope that Ryan will hold his beliefs back and won't cause any incidents while we are there. I don't want to see what happened to the Sentinels at the Temple of Mythal ever again.

Oh, before I forget. Thank you for the book you have sent me about lyrium properties. It contained some information that was new to me, and I hope I can use it to further my treatment of the templars that want to shed their addiction. Although sadly, some have decided to use lyrium again.

With the reinstatement of the templar order and Ryan using lyrium himself, they feel obligated to follow his example. Although I am happy that Cassandra has issued that taking lyrium isn't longer a requirement to become a templar, and is something that the new recruits have a choice in. But I have my doubts about how this will work. I am afraid that new recruits will be pressured into becoming 'real' templars by others in the order. Time will only tell if the templars can change.

Hopefully, I can write to you soon again and tell you everything about the Avvar.

Eirlana

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eirlana

Avvar? Seriously? You are going to the Avvar.

Has Ryan completely lost his mind? Those are dangerous people, they gave the Old Empire a run for their money and those were the days we were very powerful. Totally crazy, but powerful.

Be careful, they are barbaric people and have no manners at all. Not to mention their terrible sense of fashion. Don't return to me covered in smelly furs and that ghastly paint of theirs. I know not everyone can have my immaculate taste, but there are certain standards everyone should have.

Tell Ryan he should stop dragging you and Iron Bull all over the country. I am not even able to see my lover at this rate. If you can call my relationship with Iron Bull love. It has been months since I last saw him, and now he goes even farther away from me.

I look forward to your next letter.

Dorian

------------------------------------------------------------------------- Snowflake,

I really enjoyed your visit to Kirkwall even if you had to bring the Inquisitor with you.

You will not believe it, but Fenris came into town two days after you guys had left. I still can't believe that brooding elf didn't show up even when I asked him to. But what can you do? He has always had a mind of his own. I am sure I will manage next time for you two to meet up.

I am certain you remember my lovely complaints about the stupid nobles of this city and their inability to act in times of a crisis. Now, I have good news. They finally have decided to elect a new Viscount, and to my surprise, I somehow was pushed forward as the only candidate.

I still don't understand how this happened, but somehow my complaining has convinced them I was volunteering for the job.

I don't know how this will turn out, but at least I can get the shit fixed in this city. I only wish Hawke was still here. That man had a golden tongue, who could talk anybody into anything. At least Aveline has my back. I think Kirkwall will fall into the sea if she ever decides to quit her job.

You will be happy to know I ordered to have the mages moved from the gallows. As you said, a place where the Fade is filled with despair is not a good place for young mages to live and learn their craft.

What about you? Have you heard anything about having to move into a Circle of Magi? Cassandra has made quick work of rebuilding the Circles after she was elected Divine, and I know mages all over Thedas are ordered to return to them.

I can imagine that you will not escape their attention. Though as long as the Inquisitor needs you, you should be safe.

I don't know how these new Circles will work out, but there is still a lot of bad blood between the templars and the mages. We have to wait and see how Cassandra's reforms will turn out. If you need any help, let me know. I am in politics now, and I intend to use that power.

Varric

------------------------------------------------------------------------- (Viscount) Varric,

Are you seriously the new Viscount of Kirkwall? I had to laugh when I read it. Sorry.

But congratulations on the new position. I know you hate politics, but I sincerely believe you will be great. Kirkwall is lucky to have someone who knows its people, and how it is to live in the poorer parts of the city. Far too often, rulers come from riches and can't imagine the struggles ordinary people face in their daily lives.

I know you will do a fantastic job ruling that crowded city.

I also want to thank you for your hospitality. I know it was a short stay, but I really enjoyed myself. To see everything from your stories with my own eyes was amazing. It was also great to meet Isabella, Merrill, Aveline and Donnic. It had been a long time since I laughed so much. I am sad that I missed Fenris, but I am looking forward to meeting him next time.

That is, if there is a next time, because you are right about the Circle. Although I haven't been dragged in one officially, I am afraid my time is running out. Especially with Ryan spending more and more time in Val Royeaux aiding Cassandra in her effort to rebuild the Chantry into a reliable organisation.

Often I have to accompany him, and I fear every time that he will decide to drop me off at the White Spire.

I have also received several letters from Vivienne urging me to make the “smart choice” and join the Circle of Magi of Orlais. I suspect my history with the Inquisition has some political use, and it doesn't help that I have healed some important members of Noble houses of Orlais. As Vivienne put it “My appearance at the Orlesian Court has been noted.” and I am afraid I will end up a pawn in her political game.

At least I still have four months until the Exalted Council will be held, after that, I am afraid my life will change.

But rumour has it that everyone from the former Inner Circle has been invited. If so, I am looking forward to seeing you again. I can't wait to tell Dorian about my adventures with the barbaric Avvar. I tried to bring him a souvenir, but sadly it has been confiscated by Ryan. Who knew Skyhold is not a place to bring heathen totems.

Eirlana -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eirlana blew the ink on her letter dry. She didn't bother sealing it, knowing that Leliana would let it check for any hidden secret information. She walked to the rookery and was relieved Leliana wasn't in her usual spot. Leaving her letter with one of Leliana's men, she decided to go for a walk. It was a beautiful sunny spring day, and she already had finished her shift at the clinic.

It was almost two years ago since they had defeated Corypheus and it had been two long lonely years for her. She felt like a prisoner with constantly being watched by the templars, as if she was a dangerous being that couldn't be trusted. The templars presence and Ryan's attitude towards her had fuelled the rumours about her. Where before she experienced friendliness and acceptance within the Inquisition had turned into distrust and suspicion. Nowadays, people were hardly talking to her and kept their distance. She was close with only a handful of people, but she didn't know if she even could trust them.

There was of course, Cullen, who had been her tower of strength ever since Solas had disappeared. He was a dear friend, and she believed her movements would be even more restricted if it wasn't for his support. There was also Rosie, who had become a dear friend. A couple of other elven servants were also friendly with her, but she wasn't sure if their interest was genuine or simply a task given to them by Leliana. Not that it mattered, all of those friendships felt shallow. She had no one she could openly share her beliefs and opinions with, without fearing it would end up on Ryan's or Leliana's desk. She longed back to days when Varric and Dorian were still a part of the Inquisition. Not that she wasn't grateful they wrote to her regularly, but it wasn't the same as having them close in person.

But even when they would be here, she hardly could tell them about Solas being Fen'Harel, or talk about her meeting Falon'Din and Mythal. There was also Falon'Din's remark 'never has a mortal had the pleasure to pique the interest of three Evanuris.' She doubted it was Mythal he had spoken off, and there had been only one other important elf in her life, and that was Ghi'lan, her teacher.

If he also was part of these Evanuris, Solas hadn't been the only one who hadn't told her the truth.

All of this made her miss Solas even more. She missed having someone she could talk to, share her explorations in the Fade, discuss what she had read or learned from a spirit. Someone who understood her, someone she felt a connection to. Someone who wouldn't judge her for thinking differently. Someone she could trust and love.

She huffed at herself, knowing she still trusted him.

Staring at the mountains in the distance, she wondered if Solas also felt lonely during his stay with the Inquisition. It had to be hard for him to be surrounded by people who didn't view the world the same way he did. Had he also weighed each word he said in public, knowing the world would judge him and call him a madman at best. Like her, did he fear his secrets would be discovered or that his words would be misinterpreted and used against him? She knew he had more secrets than anyone. And it made her sad that he hadn't even trusted her enough to share them.

Her heart clenched. It still hurt thinking about him and how he had abandoned her.

To this day, she didn't understand why he had left her, just like that without even a word of explanation. She couldn't help but feel like the fault lay with her somehow. That she had done something wrong.

Shaking off her feeling of guilt, she continued to walk towards the small grove, next to Skyhold. It was a place she visited regularly. Not many people came here, and she liked the peace and quiet.

As always she walked towards the oak where her daughter's grave was. She froze when she saw the small bunch of flowers lying under the tree. It was the same as last year. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm herself, she didn't want to alert the templars following her that something was wrong.

Solas had been here again, it was the only sign he hadn't forgotten. But seeing the flowers was hard. It made her heart ache, knowing he had been here again without seeing her. For two years there had been nothing, he hadn't even tried to contact her. Wasn't she important enough to him? And it would be so easy. He just had to find her in the Fade or simply send a spirit with a message. No one would have to know. But he had done none of those things. For two years there had been nothing but those flowers.

It made her feel so sad and angry at the same time.

Hiding her grief, Eirlana left the grave and sat down next to the small spring flowing through the grove. It was nice to be outside, and for a moment, she could pretend that there was no one watching her every move.

She sighed, she knew there was only a short time left for her to visit this place. The Exalted Council would be coming soon, and the Inquisition would change after that. With the majority of the rifts closed and the damage left by Corypheus repaired, there was no longer the need to have an Inquisition. Judging by Ryan's actions until now, the organisation would reform and become a part of the Chantries forces. Most likely, with Ryan holding a prominent position.

Eirlana already knew she wouldn't be part of it. She was a mage, and it was expected of her she would bow to the new rules and join the Circle. Something she didn't plan on doing. She wouldn't replace one prison for another one, no matter how fairer the new Circles supposedly were. She was tired of being deemed safe enough to aid the Inquisitor with her magic, but still couldn't be trusted to go for a simple walk without supervision. She had become nothing more than a convenient, powerful tool with no voice of her own.

No, she had every intension to escape this prison, and the Exalted Council would give her the perfect opportunity.

She glanced back at the flowers lying under the oak. She was also tired of waiting. Solas owed her an explanation. She wanted to have at least a chance to talk to him, even if it meant he would reject her and leave her again. But first, she needed to find him. In the beginning, she had no idea where she should start, he could be anywhere by now. She had thought about visiting the ruins of Arlathan and search the Fade there for any memories. But that would take her close to Tevinter, and she wanted to stay far away from that place. Not to mention, it would likely take her years to sift through all the memories lingering there.

No, she had decided to try her luck at the Temple of Mythal. Though the forests of the Arbor Wilds had returned to hide their secrets. The few expeditions sent by the Orlesian University had failed to find the Temple or didn't return at all. She hoped that she would have more success.

Even if she couldn't find the Temple itself, she knew she would be able to find spirits living there. She planned to ask them for information and help to guide her. At the very least she hoped to find more information about Fen'Harel.

Two years had passed, and she wasn't one step closer to the truth. What she learned so far was confusing. Before she met Solas, she already knew that many memories cursed his name. The memories accused him of being responsible that the Evanuris disappeared and the fall of the Elvhenan. The legends told that he tricked the gods and the Forgotten Ones with his cunning. That he betrayed their trust and sealed both of them away so they could never walk again among the People.

She also knew that after the Evanuris vanished, Solas' people had been persecuted and killed. It could be the reason why all the legends that remained tell only about his trickery and betrayal. But what had really happened? She knew he had chosen a path that didn't sit well with Falon'Din. Something happened that made Solas turn against the other Evanuris? She knew he wouldn't do something without a cause. At least that was what she hoped.

Eirlana exhaled in frustration. She needed more answers, and it made her anxious to go and reach the Temple of Mythal. But first, she needed to slip away from the Inquisition. She knew it was risky, but she was sure she could count on Varric, Dorian and Rosie to help her. Once she had escaped, she needed to hide and disappear. Though it would be difficult to travel on her own.

Reaching the Wilds from the Winter Palace was a long and dangerous journey. She had to travel alone through a country that didn't like elves nor mages. But she would have some support at least among the elves living in the alienages. She had made many friends there during her visits, and they were used to hiding people.

“It is time to return.” One of the templars approached her.

Closing her eyes in frustration, Eirlana stood up. Glancing again at her daughter's grave, she walked back to Skyhold. She couldn't wait to escape from here.

#flame of winter #fanfic #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age solas #Solas #solas romance #solas x oc #eirlana

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