#but applying for almost any job feels like a waste

[notlhecxzsa]

The Shade Of Harkness - A.H

Summary: Finally, the day has come for you to have an interview in the company your friend has applied you to. Almost flying away from the known notorious CEO, Agatha Harkness, you were caught in her orbit—and you don't even know it yet. Was it an accident that you also saw her in your workplace, the one you told her you work on? No, maybe it wasn't. Just like how you saw her again at your school.

Author's Note: Happy holidays! Here's the first chapter of CEO!AgathaXFem!reader, mweheheh. Hope you'll like it! Again, this is inspired of 50 Shades Of Grey, so you might see some preference and familiar lines along!

Warnings: Cursing, stalking (but, y/n doesn't have to know that, right?), not that much for now, a little weirdo agatha (what's a dark fic if she's not weird), SIMP AGATHA

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3rd Person's POV:

"The 5th interviewee will come up in 5, Agatha..." Wanda called out to her boss—who she could also call a friend, peeking her head through the unreasonable huge doors of the room when she was met by a wide view of the expensive city through the big windows behind the woman who was sitting in the middle of the room.

"Hmm..." Wanda rolled her eyes at the answer she received, already used to it as the right hand of one of the woman who seemed to be colder as the ice in Antarctica and harder than the stone that littered on the moon.

Agatha finished what she was reading as Wanda closed the door, almost rolling her eyes at the thought of another stupid presence to float in her orbit. Shame on Wanda for even thinking an assistant would do her any good—unfortunately, the countless employees who ran out crying from her office were not enough for Wanda.

After putting the red head in a higher position, she refused to be Agatha's part time assistant. Knowing that Agatha wouldn't fire her for declining the demand of the job, Maximoff won.

"Y/L/N?..." Y/n snapped her head from looking at the direction where an interviewee had come running to— crying as she did so, to the red head who has been the one managing them all. Ms. Maximoff, whom she learned her name of, was a beautiful red head dressed in a very professional dress, making her feel so self conscious.

All of them here are so beautiful, so professional that Y/n thought she'd only fit in and get a job of a cleaner. Shaking her thoughts away, she stood up, clad in her jeans, comfortable sandals and a cute plain blouse that was covered by a blue cardigan. God, why did she even let Miya send an application to this kind of company?

"Ms. Harkness will meet you now." The warm welcoming smile almost made Y/n feel a little less scared, she was the last one and so, she entered the hug doors that was held open by Ms. Maximoff with little to no hope in her heart.

She offered a small nod and a small nervous smile in return, gripping her bag in front of her as if she was trying to hide from the fatal truth that she has no chance in this and probably just wasted her time driving for almost an hour just to get here.

Before she could even appreciate the view that was laid out in front of her, she tripped and landed on the floor, with the door already closed, she didn't have Ms. Maximoff coming towards her to help her up. Only the sound of heels marching towards her is what she was met with. Immediately looking up with a flustered face, she saw the woman who she'd only seen on billboards and countless news and articles.

She was wearing a noticeably expensive red suit, that Y/n could confirm. Without even thinking anymore, she scrambled up on her feet, already standing up to take the hand that was supposed to help her up and shook it, almost cursing herself with how her hands trembled and felt cold.

Y/n could feel a shiver ran down her spine at the striking look she received from those blue eyes. Great! Just great, now she has more reason to run away and never look back from this place.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Even her voice sounded so expensive, Y/n thought as she she stammered for the answer she could barely offer the woman.

"Y-yes..." Immediately clearing her throat, the flush in her face was already spreading on her neck. "Yes, Ms. Harkness." Swallowing the lump on her throat, she saw how the woman's gaze stayed on her face with something she couldn't fathom before it went down to their hands that are still entwined. "Oh..." She almost inaudibly let out before pulling away, keeping her gaze down on the floor.

"Come sit." Looking up, she saw that Ms. Harkness was already walking away from her and towards the big and once again, expensive office table in the middle of the room that Y/n wished to take her time exploring her eyes on.

Y/n waited until the woman was sat, waiting for her to motion to her that she can start introducing herself. She couldn't help but to analyze the woman in front of her. She looked so much more beautiful than the pictures she'd seen online, she's breathtaking.

Once again, feeling conscious about how she looked like, her gaze snapped down on what she was wearing, swallowing the invisible rock that seemed to be stuck in her throat.

"Do you want me to wait for you until you're done checking yourself or what?" Y/n eyes widen as her head snapped up faster that any human could to face the woman.

"I-I... I'm sorry, Ms. Harkness..." Clearing her throat, she saw how the woman opened the envelope that she gave to Ms. Maximoff earlier that contains everything about her. Deciding that it was her sign to start introducing herself, she inhaled before starting to talk.

"I'm Y/n Y/l/n, I'm currently graduating for college and I applied in your company hoping for it to give me a certain experience that I will need for when I start working." Gazing at the older woman's face, Y/n could feel her heart trying to escape her chest as she noticed the woman's eyes scanning the whole application form.

"And what exactly are you expecting from my company..." Before Y/n could even continue, Ms. Harkness spoke up, trailing off as she slowly gaze back up at the young woman's face. "Ms. Y/l/n?" She saw how she swallowed for the nth time ever since she came here, Agatha's gaze trailing from her neck up to her lips as she started talking.

"Uh... I know how big your company is, Ms. Harkness and so I do expect that you will give me a job that would make me credible for any position that I would want to have in the future. I can do so many things..." Y/n could feel her throat tightening with how the woman was gazing at her face—like she knows all her secrets, all her problems and all that she is. "I uh... I worked before, in a coffee shop... uhm, I also joined in a lot of organizations from high school and until now..." She tried to find some more things to say, her voice trailing off only to think of nothing when the older woman stood up slowly, her head moving up at the same pace.

She watched as the woman sauntered in front of her slowly. "Hmm? Tell me more of what you can do, Ms. Y/l/n. I'm sure my company—well, I, could give you experiences you've never done before... and you could use in the future." Y/n could feel the heat from earlier now boiling with an anticipation bubbling up inside her, one she couldn't name what kind.

Stopping in front of the table, leaning her lower part on it, Agatha crossed her arms, looking down at the girl who seemed to have caught her attention more that she intended to give a person. "W-well, I also write books... uhm, I am currently working as an employee in a hardware shop. And now, I am looking for a more... compatible job for the course I'm taking and for my future job, which I-..." Y/n shrugged, looking down as if her next words makes her feel shy.

Maybe that was the reason, or maybe it was because she couldn't handle holding the gaze of the woman in front of her anymore. "... I hopefully get."

"Hmm..." Squinting, Agatha, exhaled. "You don't seem too... sure about your... future." It sounded like she was mocking her, and if it weren't for the nervousness that Y/n was feeling, she would've thought about that.

Looking up through lashes, Y/n bit her lip as she tempted what to tell the woman, not noticing how Agatha's fist seemed to be tightened up beneath her arms that was crossed. "I am currently taking a Psychology course... I am sure of it... it's just that..." Seeing the serious attention she was getting from the woman, Y/n continued.

"My parents never really... supported it. So now, I'm hoping for a flexible experience when I can still use my degree on for when I apply for a job in the future." Y/n doesn't seem to notice it, but as she let out an information she never knew she'd be getting out in this, the weight on her shoulder flew away little by little as she continued.

"They kept... thinking that Psychology isn't a good start on having the perfect life they wished for me to have, but, it was what I wanted so I went with it. I know it wasn't just about mental care just like what they always think about... but, sometimes I just hope they supported me a little more." Biting her lips, she looked down, not wanting to witness the pitiful look that she would always receive from Miya, her friend whenever she would talk about that.

But, she doubt Ms. Harkness would even give her such thing.

You do know your parents loves you yo death, and they make you feel that, always. You just wished sometimes that they are better when it comes to the things you wanted, such as taking that course where you see yourself being in the future.

"Stop biting your lip." A small frown of confusion appeared on her face as she looked up at the woman in front of her again.

Still biting her lip, Agatha took her time scanning the younger girl's face. Her eyes held an amusement she never inteded to give as her lips was in a thin line that almost gave away what she was thinking.

It wasn't often that people would open up personal things like that with Agatha, but whow as she to compalin when she was the one who asked of it. Just confused with how easily the girl seemed to be talking to Agatha with everything, the woman felt a little surprised.

"You should not think of what the others though of you... what you do." Agatha shrugged, uncrossing her arms before putting both of it on her side, her palms flat on the table as she crossed her foot. "Your destiny is what you want it to be..." Gazing at the girl who was looking at her that made her feel an unknown... warmth. A familiarity she wasn't familiar with.

An unexplainable feeling of unknown.

"Your future is yours to hold and make." She finishes, still gazing deeply in your fac, as if she was trying to remember every part of it like how she did in the many application forms that fell on her desk.

The 2x2 professional picture on your application form did not do you any mercy, that she could confirm.

"Well... they're my parents." There was a sudden small chuckle that came out of your mouth as if what she said makes you laugh.

"And? Are they the ones who will make your future for you, Y/l/n? The ones who will do the hard work while you offer your life to a boss that doesn't show you an ounce of appreciation? They are your parents, but they are just your parents, and you... you hold what you will be." Agatha said so casually, she almost wanted to stop talking when she became self aware of how personal the conversation are seeming to become.

But, with those eyes that seemed to be catching every word that came out of her mouth, those wandering eyes that seemed be so... sparkling with so much wonder than the world had intended it to be. She couldn't stop, as if your attention caught her tounge... and it makes her seek more of it.

"I guess, I just... care about them too much..." Y/n said, as if she's talking herself.

There was a moment of silence, as you both hold your gaze. Agatha could tell that you were lost, seeing the gears running inside your head to process what she just said. She couldn't help but take her time on scanning your face once more, analyzing too deeply than she intended herself to do.

Too deep that she had ever done.

The line that was invisible in the atmosphere above you that seemed to be getting longer in each moment, was cut short by the knock in the door. Only your head snapping to it, only to see Ms. Maximoff's head and half body poking through it.

Out from the trance you were in, but your attention on the certain red head, the pair of eyes that was burning holes on the side of your head weny unnoticed by you.

"Time's up, the next interviewee will come see you now-" She was cut off by the voice that seemed to be less cold earlier when talking to you.

"Cancel it, we're not done yet." Seeing how the red head's eyes narrowed in wonder, you cleared your throat and got up.

"N-no, it's... it's fine, Ms. Harkness." Looking back at the woman, you almost flinched with how she was looking at you. As if right there and then, she knew that you were the one who ate Miya's cake from the fridge last saturday night. "I can go now-"

Agatha's head turned to Wanda, dismissing you as she stood up straight. "Cancel all the remaining interviews. I'll tell you when we're done." She said, only to receive a nod from the red head that held a hopefull gaze.

The gaze you didn't noticed as you stood there, all your attention on the woman in front of you. Just then, you noticed the height difference between that both of you, how she overtowered your small frame and how her scent invaded your senses.

You hands trembled as it hold the strap of your bag, not knowing what to do or think. Then, it was like a fleeting moment before her eyes were on you again, it didn't hold the sharp professional gaze she gave the red head earlier. There was a certain amusement with how she looked at you, a spark you couldn't name if it's confusion or something along the lines of wanting more information.

As you stand there, you watched as one of the side of her lips turned up, before walking towards the expensive singke sofa beside yours. Sitting down on it oh so casually, she patted her hand on the arm of the sofa and motioned her gaze for you to sit back, which you did.

"So, tell me more about you, Ms. Y/l/n."

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"Its smart business." Agatha explained after Y/n asked about the charity she did on Africa."You don't agree?" Agatha immediately asked, seeing the uncertain look she received from the young girl.

"I don't know enough about it." Y/n said truthfully, her face full of innocence about businesses. "I just wonder, if your heart might be a bit bigger than you want to let on?" She continued, saying it carefully as if she fears that she'll say something that the woman would not like or be offended from.

"But some people say I don't have a heart." Agatha sai flatly, her eyes looking for something on Y/n's face before looking away.

"Why would they say that?" Seeing the confused frown for the young woman's face, she smiled as if she was asked about a joke.

Shaking her head as if she's in disbelief, she answered, "Because they know me well." Hearing the silence from the other person inside the room with her, Agatha felt her heart jump a little at the distant look on Y/n's face.

Agatha thought deeply on what she might be thinking. Does she think bad of her now? Just like what everyone thought her to be. Made her to be.

Before she could even overthink more, a question casually fell out of Y/n's lips that she had caught herself gazing at for the nth time.

Y/n shook the thought of her interaction with the famous CEO in the city of Westview, one of the big cities in the country of New York City. Y/n thought how she was so far from what they pictured her to be.

Those tabloid that reported how men and women were left on her trail with a heart broken and a company crumbled into pieces. She's the infamous CEO that either often bad mouthed on or praised. Y/n doesn't know, but she saw she saw and experienced what she did.

There was kindness underneath that walls that Y/n could see she built so high, it makes her think so deep if she's the only interviewee that Agatha had talked to like that, maybe, the universe was just in good mood.

The interview ended when Ms. Maximoff once again went in, telling the CEO that she has an important meeting to go to. It might've been just Y/n being delusional, but she saw how Ms. Harkness—or should she say, Agatha, stared at her for too long. Contemplating wether to end the conversation or once again cancel something.

With a few more serious demand from the red head, she heard the CEO sighed and they bid their goodbyes with Agatha accompanying the young girl on the way to the elevator.

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Y/n's POV:

"Y/n." Agatha said, it sounded so rich. My mouth agaped as the elevator dinged, surprised with how it rolled off on her tounge. I'd die to hear it one more time—what?! No, shut up, Y/n.

Before the door closed, I managed to let out, "Agatha." A smile playing on my face.

Shaking my head as I restock a layer of locks, being in the hardware could so boring, tiring and at the same time satisfying. And what I mean by satisfying is I get to organized things like this.

"Hey, would you mind helping me back there?" Eric asked snapping me out of my thoughts, one my co-worker who is on shift today with me.

"Oh-, yeah, yeah, sure." He nodded with a grateful smile and walked past me, going straight to the storage room.

Sighing, I put aside the box and took a mental note to finish it all off later. Inhaling with closed eyes before I started walking off, stretching my neck as I did so.

"Thought it was you." Jumping at the sound of a familiar voice, deep and with a certain playful tone.

"What the fuck?..." Thankfully, I managed to whisper it and tone my voice down, but with the look on her face, I knew she heard it.

"What a pleasant surprise, Ms. Y/L/N." She said with the same smirk that she gave me so many times back in her office.

"Y/n." I blurted out, waving her off as I started walking slowly towards her unconsciously. "Just... Y/n." Stopping when I'm a few feet away. "You're here?" I asked, looking behind her when I saw that another customer just got it.

She shrugged. "I was in the area of business. Need to pick up a few things." She looked back behind her, noticing that I was checking the hardware. "Are you free?" My eyes snapped at her, not clearly understanding what she was asking.

Mentally cursing myself, I immediately answered. "Yeah, what can I help you with?" She shook her head before looking down while chuckling quietly, as if having a silent conversation with herself.

She started listing off the things she needs and I nodded. "Cable ties, yes we do have those. I can show you if you want." I offered, looking at her as I bite my lip, waiting for her answer.

I caught her staring at my lips, making me pull away and lick it. "Lead the way, Ms. Y/L/N." She said, now with her voice sounding a little bit lower than usual, just then her gaze met mine.

Smiling slightly. "It's Y/n." I reminded before turning to lead her where the cable ties are.

"You know, when you said you were working in a hardware... I was having thoughts about it. But... here you are." Frowning as I gave her the cable ties, which she accepted immediately.

I saw a smile playing on her face. "Why?" I asked curiously, a short giggle coming out from my mouth.

She shook her head. "Nothing, just that... you don't seem like a girl who would deal with so much testosterone around her." Shrugging, she pointed on the rope, and gestured a number 6 with her fingers.

Nodding, I went over to it and started measuring. "Hmm, stereotyping, aren't we, Ms. Harkness?" I narrowed my eyes at her and once again, I was met with one of the most gorgeous chuckle in my lifetime.

She looked at me with a certain amusement playing in her eyes, shaking her head as she took the rope from my hand. "Just kidding." She put everything in one hand, before looking around. "Do you have tapes?" I nodded and pointed on an aisle we haven't passed through.

"We have one inch and two inches, but the truly self respecting handyman would have both in his tool box. Of course he will. It's rare to find a connoisseur these days..." I rambled, not giving her chance to reply, I gave her both.

"Are you a girls scout?" I smiled and shook my head.

"I told you, I'm a member of so many recreational... organization." I said as I look at her things, only then noticing what she was wearing. She looks so simple but so... argh, magnificent at the same time. Clad in purple long sleeves and slacks.

"Are you done checking me out or do I have to wait til I can check these out?" She joked, and I giggled, looking away, trying to hide the mark of an embarrassment crossing my face.

"I just thought how you'd be a perfect casting for a serial killer in a movie right now. We have overalls, if you'd like. Blood might stick on your million dollar clothes." I bite back, looking up at her teasingly, only to find her smirking at me as if she's very entertained by our banter.

Well, I am too. I don't know where I'm getting all that courage to even try on coming toe to toe with her. Maybe it's the way she seemed to be listening so intently on me, hanging on to every words that I say, or maybe it's because I feel comfortable in her atmosphere.

"Could just take off my clothes." Immediately pulling out the smile on my face, my eyes widen a little before she chuckled once again.

"Okay, let me lead you to the counter now." I said, finishing whatever's going to happen in our conversation.

She was still chuckling quietly until we reached the counter when I started checking out the things she got. "Did the company emailed you already?" She asked out of nowhere, making me frown in confusion and look at her face.

"Hmm, my laptop's down... I haven't really checked my email yet, why?" Looking at the computed before I bagged her things up, not thinking much of her question.

"Well, you should. Wanda's been tearing my ear off because you're taking too long to answer and she's—unfortunately, getting tired of me." Rolling her eyes while shrugging.

My eyes narrowed. "Wait... does that mean?..." I asked, not knowing what to say but she seemed to know what it was as she smiled softly and nodded.

"If you don't email back until today, I might change my mind." She shrugged, looking at me teasingly and I gasped, jumping on my tippy toes.

"No! No, no! I'll check it out and send something as soon as possible! I promise! I'll just borrow Miya's laptop." I rambled, and she nodded.

"Your friend, right? Roomate?" She said, taking the bag from my hand and I smiled, amused and surprised that she even remembered that.

"Wow, you remembered..." I said, amusement lacing my tone. "Yeah, yeah, my friend and roomate." I confirmed.

"Well then, I'll be waiting for your email, Y/n." She smiled at me before a person lined up behind her to check out.

"Very well, Agat—Ms. Harkness." Smilling back up at her.

"It's Agatha." She replied, already turning to leave.

"Not until today." I said, giggling, only to receive a shrugged from her, just like that she's gone.

God, the universe might have been having a very good week.

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Sighing, I got out of my knocked up classic car—still the car that I love so much. It's from my dad, gifted it to me for Christmas when I turned 18. Thankfully, it was not that busy on the hardware earlier today, I managed to get off of work early.

It's almost dinner, I doubt Miya would be here, since she's been spending more time on her girlfriend's house for the semestral break. But, as soon as I step inside the house, a body collided with mind and warmth filled my body as I smiled.

"Oh my god! I missed you!" I giggled, almost carrying her with how she's putting all her weight on me.

"Miya! You're here." I laughed. "When did you get home?" I asked and it took her several seconds to pull away before answering, pulling me with her on the couch.

"Yelena dropped me off earlier, and you! We have so many things to catch up! What happened to the interview? How've you been? Did you get that dog you've been wanting to adopt?" I looked at her weirdly but in a playful away, putting my hand on her mouth.

"Okay, okay, slow your horses down." She giggled and pushed my hands away, only to intertwine hers with it and put it in between of us. "First of all, you're acting like we haven't seen each other in months, gosh." I exasperated, rolling my eyes with the same smile playing on my face.

"Hey!" She pulled her hands away and crossed her arms in front of her. "A week is too long! We barely even text." She bit back and I rolled my eyes.

"Well, if you didn't always choose your girlfriend over me then you won't miss me big time." I teased. "Okay, let's stop this..." I crisscross my legs and put my whole front facing her.

She giggled and did the same, looking at me with awaiting eyes, making me smile once more. "Start at the interview! Was she hot? Oh! Is she like... mean? God, I bet all you could think was those fictions you read on wattpad." She laughed, throwing her head back and I frowned.

"Hey! You mean, those weird things that you made me read? And, I am certainly not like that or into that. Okay, wait! The interview went..." I trailed off, now did I only pondered deeply how did it really went. Gosh, I knew I thought of it—or her, mostly.

I mean, I knew I won't pass the intervew and get the job, the less expectations the better. That's why I was really shocked to hear her say that I got it, which I took a mental note on borrowing Miya's laptop later that she left on her room.

"Well?..." I said, not knowing even to myself if I am saying it to her or myself. Her mouth opened and I knew I am getting a whole bunch of heavy and loud questions, demanding a straight answer, but before she could even continue, the doorbell rang and we both looked towards the door then back at each other.

"I got it!" She stood up quickly, rushing to it and I was left thinking what should I tell her.

I mean, I know she'll think of so many things if I told her that the interview didn't really went as an... interview about the job, right? And, I can't tell her about how oh so casual did the famous CEO of our city acted so... casual and normal with me. God, I certainly can't tell her that I saw her again earlier.

Miya will yap my ear off about her weird fantasies that I sometimes get tired of... and also plagues my mind in the most annoying way.

"Hey, you got a gift." Before I even knew it, her feet came into my view and I looked up at her frowning, looking at the big box in her hands, not daring to take it.

"What? What's that?" Full of curiosity lacing my voice.

"How could I know, dumbass." She dropped it on my lap before taking a sit next to me.

I was left to hold the box, gazing at it as it would give me answers only to see a note peeking on the side. It was only a paper folded in a half, making it easier for me to get a glimpse of what is inside when I opened it, which is a short letter and an initial at the end.

Hoping for my assistant's immediate answer, Ms. Y/L/N. Maximoff so close to resigning.

-A.H

"What does it say?" Leaning towards me to get a glimpse of the note, she pondered. "A.H?" She asked out loud.

Then it hit me. Before I could even take it away from her sight, I heard her gasp. My heart jumping miles away from the sky. Not bothering to look at her, I opened the box and was met with a brand new MacBook that probably cost my income for 10 months.

"Oh my god..." I mumbled, not knowing what to feel.

"Ms. Hakrness sent you this?!"

"Oh god."

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Author's Note: Merry Christmas! 🎁

[nelson-riddle-me-this]

.

[theood]

Lol

[ddejavvu]

okay so by now i think all the spencer enjoyers™️ have seen that picture of him in his white unbuttoned shirt covered in red lipstick kisses, but imagine leaving said kisses perchance? earlier season spencer would be like a puddle on the floor and it'd be too cute.

Spencer's job as Designated Driver is backfiring fast. It means that his head is completely clear as your mottled one decides it's time to waste your lipstick, lathing it onto your puckered lips and painting his face with it.

"Another one!" You declare, a giggle hanging off the edge of your voice as you reapply another smeary coat of the product. You reapply every time you kiss his cheeks, which means there's far more of the stuff on your lips than you need there to be.

"Okay that's- that's enough," Spencer reaches for the tube of lipstick, taking it from your hands and clutching it in his tight fist, "You don't need to apply any more. There's enough on your lips already, I- uh, I don't think that's how makeup works."

"But I want the kisses to be fresh," You insist, eyes wide and doe-like, sparkling with earnest, "Spence, I- if the kisses aren't fresh," You explain, voice thick and wobbly, "Then people won't see them, and people won't know you're my best friend! I have to," Your voice tapers down into a sullen whisper, "I have to mark my territory."

Spencer didn't know he was your best friend. He knew he was one of your friends, of course, but he'd have assumed your best was maybe Prentiss or Morgan. Certainly not him, not the man who time and time again fumbles his way through conversations with you because no matter how much time he spends prepping what he'll say, you always make him nervous. He can't say he's exactly calm now, with your bright kiss marks pressed to every inch of skin on his face, but he takes solace in the fact that you're not going to remember this come morning, so he can stutter all he wants and it won't affect his image.

"I think she's right, Reid," Hotch grins, though Spencer can tell the man's holding back the brunt of the expression's force. Spencer curses the man's composure; he handles liquor a lot better than you do. "I mean, God forbid people think you don't know her. It's not like she's sitting in your lap, or anything."

"Mhm!" You nod emphatically from your place in Spencer's lap, his sticky face held in your hands, "Exactly. So I need to kiss you more."

Spencer's not sure what he can say besides yes. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you think he doesn't want to be your best friend. Because he does, perhaps a little more than you realize. But he's not sure he can take the feeling of your lips on his face any more, for fear of turning into a melted puddle of raw awkwardness on the sticky bar floor.

He swallows the saliva that's pooled around his teeth, inhaling the scent of your strawberry shampoo, "Uh- okay. One more."

"Two more." You decide, already leaning up to press not one, not two, but three kisses to his face. One on each of his cheeks, then one that you smash against the curve of his chin. You press until it hurts, intent on really stamping the mark there.

"Perfect!" You declare, and Spencer's sure his breath is shaky when he exhales, a side effect from having your lips so tantalizingly close to his own. "Now- now I'm done." You promise, "And I'm tired, Spence." You suddenly pant, "Can I lay down on you?"

You're already in his lap. Spencer's not sure if he has any reason to say no. Well, besides his uncontrollable, embarrassingly strong, undying adoration for you. But he can't tell you that, not here, not now, so he steels himself as he nods, "Sure. Go- go ahead."

You slump down onto his shoulder so fast it almost hurts, and you're lifelessly snoozing in an instant. Spencer's sure you're not actually asleep yet, but you're so easily dead weight against him that he has to lean up against the back of his chair for support.

"No pictures." He hisses to Hotch who's already taken three, "Stop it."

"Penelope's not here," Hotch goads, sending the picture off before Spencer can demand he delete it, "Someone's gotta be the gossip."

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

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"So we just have to wait a little longer... Here you go"

You were finishing explaining the situation to Curly while giving him his medicine, Anya was standing behind you grimacing in pain at the sounds the man made while swallowing.

Anya: "How is it that... Can you tolerate that?"

"What thing? The sounds? The burnt meat? The smell? The blood?"

You were mentioning while slowly and carefully removing the bandages from his body, the man trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to further discomfort the other woman present, but the bandages were almost stuck to his skin.

You were applying water little by little to be able to peel them off better, you had managed to get more drinkable water from the station, grateful for it since they had been without bathing or cleaning themselves to avoid wasting it for weeks now.

Anya: "Everything..."

"Well, I've been to many places, doing different jobs... I've gotten used to it."

When you saw the woman's horrified face, you realized how bad that sounded.

"I worked in morgues and crematoriums! Heavens... I didn't kill anyone."

Anya: "Seriously?"

"My dad owned a morgue and a crematorium, when I turned 18, he made me work, you have no idea how many times I had to clean my own vomit off the floor... or the corpses."

Immediately, she covered her mouth, almost vomiting at the thought of it, but you laughed at her reaction.

"That was exactly my reaction! I grew up with a strong stomach."

Anya: "How did you get here?"

You finished removing the bandages from the man, looking at his skin, you sighed knowing full well that you would have to clean it, pus was already forming in certain areas.

Anya, upon seeing that, had to turn around and hold her stomach, trying to think of something else.

"If you want to get into medical school, you have to watch this, no professor will have pity on you for having a sensitive stomach."

Anya: "I've already seen it without the bandages... But... Today they look extremely bad... I'm sorry..."

Upon saying that, she took a deep breath and turned back again, ready to help you clean her wounds.

"...I was in charge of the morgue in just a few years, and one day, while preparing bodies... I saw him, my father on the table in front of me, ready to be open and empty like any other corpse.. Three shots to the chest, some guys had robbed a store while he was in, he tried to be a hero defending the cashier, and they shot him. The thieves fled with nothing in their hands... I got depressed..."

You looked at Curly, who was watching you attentively while you told that story he already knew.

"I ran away from home... I started with drugs... and all kinds of things to get money... I went to my mother's house just to ask her for money or to eat something, I didn't care how much she begged me to stay... I just... I couldn't feel good again, and I was destroying myself to know that I was still alive."

Anya: "...How did you get out of that?"

"Because of this stubborn one"

You smiled at Curly, who soon looked away as if he weren't paying attention to what you were saying.

"He found me shoplifting in a store, and instead of turning me in, he bought the things I was taking and invited me for a coffee" you laughed, recalling that moment.

Anya: "Seriously?"

"Then he was looking for me all over the city."

Anya: "Did he want to see you again?"

"I stole his wallet."

You paused to laugh at the memory as well, before continuing with the story.

"But he insisted on keep meeting with me, on helping me, and I ended up falling for his kindness... I started living in his house, he was never around because of work, I got a job as a dog walker to have my own money while I was recovering, and he was always making sure I was okay... After years... Finally, I had the strength to see my mother again... And she felt relieved to see me well... Ugh, you have no idea the scene she made when she met Curly, so happy that i found a good man, I wanted the ground to swallow me up."

Anya: "That still doesn't tell me how you ended up as co-captain."

"...Five years ago... Curly recommended me, I did the physical and psychological exams, the training, and since I passed everything flawlessly, well... That's how I ended up here!"

You scratched your neck, smiling somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't a great story of how you became captain on your own; that was the plain truth of how you had ended up there.

You finished putting the upper bandage on Curly, ready to continue with the lower part.

Anya: "We're going to have to be careful with the catheter for this part."

Immediately, they heard Curly's complaints when they were about to remove the bandages from that part.

"Don't be like that, Curly! Anya was the one who has been changing your bandages, washing them, and put the catheter in for you; there's nothing wrong with her seeing you again."

Anya: "I think he doesn't want you to see him..."

She said a little embarrassed, you turned to look at Curly, speechless, not knowing what to say to him.

"Okay, no problem, I'm leaving."

You raised your hands to get up from your seat and leave that room. 

Anya: "You shouldn't feel ashamed, she'ss your wife after all, she'll see you again someday."

Curly shook his head slowly, he preferred that you see him again when he was recovered.

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 02

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 3.2k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

You lift your eyes to him. Your conversation had already been weird, but you hadn’t expected him to drop a bomb like that. What are you supposed to reply to that? Instead, you stare at him, not knowing what to say or what to do. He seems like he’s waiting for an answer, but you don’t have any for him.

“I’m sorry,” is all that came out of your mouth.

“For what?” he asks as you take a deep breath, looking at the floor and nervously chewing your bottom lip.

“For wasting four years of your life.” You raise your shoulders before waiting for a reaction from him. But instead, he starts to chuckle, shaking his head.

“Is that what you think of us? That our…” He pinches his lips, searching for an alternative to ’love' “our relationship was a waste?”

“I don’t know. We were kids,” you reply, as his eyes seem to burn the side of your face before you see him take a few steps back.

Do you think your relationship was a waste? No. He was your first love. You experienced all your first times with him. First date, first time, first heartbreak. Jungkook sighs, shaking his head.

“I loved you,” is all that could slip from his lips as your eyes finally met his.

 “I loved you too,” you whisper, feeling your throat clenching. And your words seem to comfort him a little. He needed to hear it. Even if you had told him multiple times back then.

“I…I’m going to be around more often.” He informs you, with one hand in his pocket and the other pulling the beer to his lips. “I don’t want us to be like all those exes who hate each other. Can we be friends?”

You never thought you would hear him say that one day. But you’re relieved. Between you, Jungkook was always the most mature.

“Do you think we can be friends?” You ask, arching a brow as he chuckles, raising his shoulders.

“We both moved on.” The tattooed man tilts his head.

“You literally just asked me to give you the reason for our breakup from 7 years ago." You roll your eyes, but he simply smiles.

“I’m curious.” He takes a step closer. “I just want to understand where I did it wrong for you to leave me without an explanation. Was it because of my snoring?” He jokes to lighten the mood, and you give him an amused look.

“I used to fall asleep to your snoring,” you retort with a slight smile.

“You’re the first girl— woman who’s not bothered about it.” he chuckles, shrugs, and sits on the grass. You imitate him, leaning against the wall next to him.

People can be annoyed by the snoring, but you have always liked his. The first week after your breakup, you didn’t sleep well with the silence surrounding you. Seven years later, you still leave the TV on at night.

“So… friends?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. You hesitate for a few seconds before taking the hand he is offering and giving it a squeeze.

“Friends.”

 “How’s your work?” It must be stressful to have so many responsibilities as a shop owner.” Jungkook tries to start a conversation, and you know you need to keep it going since he took the first step.

“I’m…grateful. I worked hard to do what I love.” You reply, pushing your dress down as you try to find a comfortable position without showing your private parts to the few guests around. Jungkook noticed, and he took off his jacket to cover your legs, even though you tried to refuse. That’s just how he was—genuinely kind without ulterior motives, “Thanks,” you mumble. “What about you?”

“I fixed some computers for grannies,” he nods, both of you laughing softly. “I applied for a job at the government, but self-employment is quite tempting. I'm not suited for a 9-5 job.”

"You were never built for that," you shake your head. Taking a sip of your champagne, you grimace, and leave the bottle between the two of you

“Tell me about it.” He laughs, finishing his beer. “I need to settle down properly before thinking of working for myself.”

“Where are you staying at the moment?”

 “Jimin’s.” He raises his shoulders. “I do jobs here and there, as I said. But my degrees are not just for decoration. I’d better find a good use for it.”

“I can’t believe you really found studies to be a hacker,” you laugh as he looks at you, amused.

“I’m a pentester,” he corrects you, earning eye rolls from you.  

“You’re hacking people to see if their security works. That’s the same.”

“Except, I do it legally.” He teases, lifting his finger.

“Right. That changes everything.” You add sarcastically, not feeling his admiring eyes on you. “At least you do your dream job.”

“I do.”

“We should go back to the party,” you suggest sighing and getting up as Jungkook hums, mirroring you. You hand him back his jacket, saying, “Thanks for that,” and he nods.

“No need to thank me,” he replies, pulling it back on his shoulders as you two walk to the door. “Hey. Do you offer a discount for new friends?”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, your eyes falling on his inked forearm.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just some filling and a few colorings,” he explains, showing you the blank space between his tattoos. “My old tattoo artist sucked. I’m looking for a new one.”

Some part of you knew he was just making excuses, as his tattoos were perfectly fine. They need a few fillings, as he said, but otherwise, they look great.

“I double the price for the exes, actually.” You retort, and he laughs.

“Damn, Nabi, who hurts you?” He jokes, and you roll your eyes before freezing at the nickname. A few of your friends call you Nabi. The ones who are close. Hearing it from him makes your stomach almost drop. He doesn’t seem to see it. And it was for the better.

“Ask Jimin for the shop’s address. I’ll see what I can do for you.” You mumble, and he nods, pulling down his sleeves. “I need to go back to the bride. You know how dramatic Hyesun can be. She’ll think I abandoned her.”

“Right. Thanks, Y/N. I really... enjoyed our conversation.” He says sincerely, earning a slight smile from you.

“Me too. See you around... friend.” You wave at him before walking back to your friend group.

You sit next to Hyesun at Namjoon’s coffee shop. They were back from their honeymoon a few days ago, Hwan and you wanted to know everything about it. They went to Jeju and spent a whole week lovey-dovey.

“So, the next step is kids?” Hwan asks, crossing her legs as Hyesun almost choked on her iced coffee.

 “Damn, Hwan, do you really think that marriage and kids are linked or what?” Hyesun groans. She gives a look to her husband, who’s behind his counter, offering his best smile to a client before catching her eyes and blowing her a kiss. “No, maybe after my thirties, but we want to enjoy each other as much as we can.”

“In other terms, they want to fuck on the kitchen’s counter like animals for as long as possible,” You muse, as she smirks and slaps your shoulder.

“Don’t laugh too much, miss, you still have some explanation to do.” Hyesun scolds you as you frown a little.

“About what?”

“About what?” Hyesun repeats. “Maybe how you disappeared with your ex in the middle of my wedding reception and came back with him, giggling and heart eyed.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your black coffee.

“That’s pretty exaggerated.” You sigh as Hwan looks at the both of you, lost. Hwan joined your friends' group three years ago. She doesn’t know anything about your story with Jungkook. And Hyesun smirks, pulling her chair closer to your mutual friend.

“I don’t understand,” Hwan chuckles.

“Yeah, you weren’t there, but that lady here was in a long-term relationship a few years ago." Hyesun muses as you lean back in your chair, shaking your head. “She was supposed to be the one getting married before any of us.”

“Y/N?” Hwan frowns, not believing Hyesun.

“Yeah, Y/N.” Hyesun nods, “Hard to believe, right?”

“Yeah. I have never seen her with anyone since I have known her.” Your red-haired friend laughs as you scrunch your nose, amused.

“Can you focus on your marriage instead of talking about old stories?” You arch a brow, giving her a look.

“No, no, I want to know.” Hwan shushed you, shaking her hand in front of my face. “What happened? Why are they not together anymore?”

 “Y/N is a self-sabotaging type of person.” Hyesun grimaces, “Jungkook was ready to offer her the moon if she asked for it.”

“Gosh…” You sigh, but your two friends interrupt you as you continue to sip your coffee.

“They have been dating since high school. How old were you when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Hyesun turns to you as you wet your lips.

“Seventeen.”

“Right. They were like the couple goal back then.” Your best friend continues, while Hwan is listening attentively. “Jungkook always shouted out to the world that he was going to spend his life with her.”

“We were kids.”

“Shut up,” Hyesun says, stopping you as you chuckled. “Everyone knew from the moment you two started spending time together that you were meant to be.”

“Then why did you break up with him?” Hwan frowns. “You fell out of love?”

You take a deep breath and shrug. “No.” Was all you could reply, chewing the inside of your cheek, “I loved him when I ended things,” you add as both of your friends wait for your next words. “Oh my god... I broke up with him because he was about to leave for Japan, and I couldn’t follow him. Our relationship ended there. That’s it.”

 “Japan is just two hours away from here. Jungkook would have made it work, and you know that.” Hyesun gives you a deadpan stare.

“He was going to be there for 5-6 years.” You retort, frowning. “What was I supposed to do? Wait for him here? What if our relationship couldn’t make it through the long distance? What if he started seeing someone there and I was unaware of it?”

“You and I both know that the Jungkook from that time would rather cut his dick off than cheat on you.” Hyesun defends Jungkook as you roll your eyes. “He’ll most likely cheat on his new girlfriend with you, rather than cheating on you with others.”

“You’re so stupid sometimes, Y/N.” Hwan shakes her head as you cover your face in embarrassment. “Now we’ll never know because you’re a scary little thing who’s too afraid to take a risk for her own comfort.”

“Are you really teaming up against me?” You chuckle, crossing your arms under your chest. You weren’t surprised by how harsh they can be. It’s how your friendship with these girls works. At least you know they’re genuine and not sugarcoating everything.

“I’m sorry, but have you seen that guy? I wouldn’t give up on him, even if he was a huge dickhead.” Hwan adds, and Hyesun nods behind her shoulder. “Shit.. I wanted to ask for his number, but since you have a too huge connection with him, I’ll just… watch him… from afar.”

“You still can, he’s single,” You raise an eyebrow, her face contorting into a grimace.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Hwan shakes her head, “He’s not a two-week boyfriend of yours. He was the love of your life. So, thank you, but no thank you.” She adds before Hyesun offers her a high-five.

“Anyway, you won’t dodge the question. What happened between you two at the wedding?” Hyesun tilts her head to you, pulling the straw between her lips in a sassy way.

“What do you think happened?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Something passionate, maybe a little make out session with wandering hands.” Hyesun raises her shoulders. You burst out laughing and shake your head.

“We simply talked.” You shatter their dreams as the two girls whine. “He asked me to be friends. I said yes.”

They both exchange a look before sipping their drinks silently as you frown. You hate it when they do that.

“What?” You groan, straightening up in your chair, and exclaim, “What?!”

 Hyesun starts by saying “Y/N…” as Hwan giggles.

“Sweetheart, I’ll hold your hand when I say it,” Hwan adds, taking your hand dramatically, covering it with her other hand as she rubs it softly. “No ex stays ‘friends’. Either neither of you has moved on, or one of you is lying about their feelings.”

“Or none of them have loved each other.” Hyesun nods in agreement with Hwan, saying, “But we both know that… well, you both were crazy about each other.”

“So, do you still have feelings for him?”

“What?” You frown, taking your hand off Hwan’s when she asks you that question. “You’re both ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for him anymore. We were friends before we got into a relationship, you know that?”

“That’s not the same,” Hwan says, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, you didn’t taste his dick the first time you two were friends.” Hyesun muses as you groan, pressing your forehead on the table dramatically.

“You know what? Fuck you. Both of you.” You sigh, shaking your head as they both laugh. “I’m sure he only asked me to be his friend to be polite anyway; I haven’t had news from him since the wedding.”

 “Because you’re waiting for his news?” Hwan hums playfully.

“What- No! He wanted me to see what I could do for his tattoos—” you continue but they both give you an amused look. “Alright, shut up. I’m done talking about that.”

You were distracted by your thoughts while cleaning the room after your last client. After a six-hour-long work session, your back aches and your fingers are numb from the tattoo machine's constant buzz. But at least your client left happy with her new thigh tattoo. Spraying some disinfectant on the table, you start to wipe it meticulously.

“Sorry, sir, we’re closing,” you hear Baekhyun’s voice after the front door opened. “You can come back tomorrow; we’re opening at 9.”

“That’s okay, I’m not here to get tattooed,” The other masculine voice says as you straight up, leaving everything on the table and walking to the counter for a better view. "Is Y/N here?”

“It’s okay, Baekhyun, I’ll take care of it,” You add walking past your employee as he nods, “Finish the cleaning in the back.”

Baekhyun frowns, his eyes never leaving your face while you’re taking off your gloves and join Jungkook. He wears a casual, all-black attire, as always, with his whole sleeve tattoo on display and a beanie on his head, from which a few strands of hair fell to his neck.

“Hi,” he offers you a half smile.

“It’s late,” you reply, tilting your head as he chuckles and scratches the back of his head, his arm muscles flexing. Your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“The grannies computers,” he jokes, earning a smile from you while Baekhyun frown, noticing the sudden softness in your demeanor.

 Jungkook’s eyes switch from Baekhyun to you a few times as you turn to the other tattoo artist who didn’t move a bit.

“Baek?” You shake your head, as if waiting for him to give you the privacy you asked.

“Oh, yeah, right.” He mumbles, giving Jungkook a last look before going into the room behind the counter, saying, “I’ll be here, if you need me.”

You roll your eyes and step closer to Jungkook, leaning your hip against the counter. “Are the grannies happy?” You ask as he offers you a shy smile and nods.

“A lot.” He confirms, before looking around the tattoo shop. “You decorated it nicely.”

“Thanks. Did you come alone?”

“Hm.”

An awkward silence fills the room before you chuckle, shaking your head.

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Jeon?” You try to ease the tension by making a gesture with your hand, indicating his body.

“Huh? Oh right. I, uh, the fillings,” He explains clumsily, pulling up his sleeve to show you his entire arm, and you’re surprised at how his tattoos just…make him look hotter.

You step closer again and ask him with a look if you can touch. He slightly nods. Your fingers wrap around his forearm as you twist it to see all the ink on it, spotting every little blank space between his bigger tattoos.

“Your previous tattoo artist was great,” You mumble, too focused to notice his gaze tracing every feature of your face. “That’s not the same… work?” You frown at the way that some designs are rawer.

“The first one did some shitty stuff on my arm,” He whispers, his breath closer to your skin than you thought. You freeze, turning your face and immediately pulling back slightly when your noses almost brush. “The second made up pretty well. But you know what they say? The third time is a charm.”

Your eyes meet his, your fingers still wrapped around his arm as you take a deep breath, trying not to be too obvious about how nervous he’s making you.

“Well, not to be arrogant, but that’s the case,” You reply, and his lips curve into a side smile. “What do you have in mind for the filling?”

“You’re the pro here, I’ll let you decide,” Jungkook declares, your eyes falling back on his arm as you trail your fingers over the empty spaces, earning a shiver from him.

 “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” You lick your lips, “I’ll need to take pictures of your arm to draw what I’ll do…” you add as your eyes fall on the moth on the inside of his arm, darker than the rest of his tattoos, right where the biceps muscle starts.

“Are you free on Saturday?” He asks with a softer voice, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

“I can take the pictures now,” You chuckle nervously.

“For dinner, I mean.” He clarifies as you look at him.

“A date?” You blink, unsure.

“A friendly date,” He corrects you, wetting his lips, as you take a few steps back, bumping your back against the counter, feeling stupid, but he didn’t move. “So?”

Of course, a friendly date. A simple dinner between two adults… two friends.

“Saturday,” You repeat, then nod.

“Saturday,” He lets out a soft chuckle, clearly pleased to see you so flustered. “You can say no tho.”

“No- I mean, yes, a dinner, Saturday.” You shake your head, frowning and catching your phone to take pictures of his arm as he laughs, “When you’re done making fun of me, let me know so I can work properly.” You groan, your camera app open while he smirks, showing off his tattoos for you to snap.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER (LINK) FOR UPDATES!!

[devsgames]

Okay at this point I've seen so many students feeling doomed for taking a course where a teacher uses Unity or like they're wasting time learning the engine, and while understandably the situation at Unity sucks and is stressful for everyone: y'all need to stop thinking learning Unity a waste of your time.

Learning a game engine does not dictate your abilities as a dev, and the skills you learn in almost any engine are almost all transferrable skills when moving to other engines. Almost every new job you get in the games industry will use new tools, engines and systems no matter where you work, whether that be proprietary, enterprise or open-source. Skills you learn in any engine are going to be relevant even if the software is not - especially if you're learning development for the first time. Hell, even the act of learning a game engine is a transferrable skill.

It's sort of like saying it's a waste to learn Blender because people use 3DS Max, or why bother learning how to use a Mac when many people use Windows; it's all the same principals applied differently. The knowledge is still fundamental and applicable across tools.

Many engines use C-adjacent languages. Many engines use similar IDE interfaces. Many engines use Object Oriented Programming. Many engines have component-based architecture. Many objects handle data and modular prefabs and inheritence in a similar way. You are going to be learning skills that are applicable everywhere, and hiring managers worth their weight will be well aware of this.

The first digital game I made was made in Flash in 2009. I'm still using some principles I learned then. I used Unity for almost a decade and am now learning Godot and finding many similarities between the two. If my skills and knowledge are somehow still relevant then trust me: you are going to learn a lot of useful skills using Unity.

[cowboybeepboop]

Omg please part 2 of your blow job story i will beg if i have to🥹! I wanna see Scott eat the reader like it's his last meal and makes her squirt and have the best sex of their lives! Maybe have the reader ride Scott and he gets off twice from it...might not happen offen with guys but it's got when it does😉

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, riding him, praise, sort of him talking you through it, multiple orgasms. 

a/n: Guys I love writing requests so don’t worry about begging for anything 😭 Anyways per usual: I hope you enjoy and send any kind of request you might have my way! <3

Scott couldn’t keep his hands off of you, the drive to the hotel was full of tension as his fingers danced over your skin. He kept one hand tight on the steering wheel and the other wandering your body. 

You could feel the determination, the desperation, in his touch. Your skin tingles everywhere he touches you, each brush of his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your body ached for him, needing him to be closer, needing more. 

But at the same time, his touch was so light that it was driving you crazy. You could feel his desire in the way he touched you, it was different than usual. 

Finally the hotel came into view and the anticipation in your body was almost unbearable. Scott pulled into a parking spot and practically slammed on the brakes, he rushed out of the truck, swiftly coming to your door to lead you out. 

His hand rested on your lower back as he guided you to the front door. Once inside the elevator, he pressed his body against your back, you could feel his erection pressed into your backside. 

Scott's tall body completely enveloped yours, you could feel the heat radiating off him as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

"I need to get you to my room now,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. He grips your hips tightly, as if he were holding himself back from doing more.

The ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Lead the way Scottie.” You murmur, anticipation in the pit of your stomach as his body responds to your words. 

He takes your hand in his and quickly leads you down the hallway towards his room. As soon as he gets the door open, he practically pushes you through, closing and locking the door behind him. 

He wastes no time, he's on you in an instant, pinning you against the wall and pressing his body firmly against yours. His lips find your neck, planting rough, messy kisses against your sensitive skin.

“Scott,” you gasp out, hands going to his sides as you pull him impossibly closer, needing him just as much as he needs you. 

Scott lets out a soft hum as his lips continue their ruthless attack on your pulse point. His hands move to your pants, he unbuttons them, unzips them and slides them away. 

His calloused fingers find your clothed clit, beginning to rub gentle circles into it causing a shocked moan to slip out of your lips. 

“Scott, more..” you murmur, fingers tangling in his dark locks, softly tugging at the roots. 

“You like that, baby?” he murmurs back, his teeth scraping against your skin as he continues to nip and kiss your neck. 

He groans at the sound of your moans, loving the way you call out his name. He rubs a little harder, applying more pressure as he watches your reactions. His free hand runs along your body, appreciating the curves of your body.

He moves to capture your lips in another rough kiss, his tongue immediately entering your mouth as he presses you back against the wall. He guides you to the bed, pressing you down so you’re sitting on the edge of the plush mattress.

His hands squeeze your hips as he drops to his knees, his lips never leaving yours. His hands follow the curves of your waist, moving to the hem of your shirt before slipping under the fabric. He parts your legs with his body, he slides your shirt off, looking at you with eyes filled with nothing but desire. 

Scott presses a kiss to your stomach, moving up your body with gentle wet kisses. as he reaches your breasts he buries his face between them, breathing in the scent of you, his fingers move to the clasps of your bra unclasping it. 

He worships your body, appreciating every curve and contour. The look in his eyes is something new to you. He’s so full of desire, so full of emotion that he can’t even mask it with a cocky demeanor.

As he unhooks your bra, his teeth graze along the sensitive flesh of your chest. He can’t get enough of you at this moment, feeling as if he could eat you alive. He looks up at you, his gaze locked onto yours. “You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” You pull him into a hungry kiss, wanting to taste him once again. 

His hands press into you as he pulls back from your lips, he turns his attention to the wetness between your legs. He swiftly pulls your lace panties away, taking in the sight of you. he reaches out, using his pointer finger to slowly enter your warmth, your eyes fall shut as you let out a choked moan. 

“Scott!” you gasp his name, legs instinctively parting further. His lips connect with your inner thigh, he sucks soft hickeys into the sensitive skin, teeth lightly nipping at you. “Fuck,” you whimper, lost in the senstation as he continues to fuck you with his thick finger. 

His nose brushes against your hip bone as he licks the soft skin, he brings his eyes to meet your face. “Y/N? This is okay right?” he murmurs against you. 

“Yes, fuck please.” you whine out, he smirks, guiding your legs to his shoulders as he finally brushes his tongue against your wetness. He moans at the taste of you in his mouth, hands going to your hips, grasping them tightly as he pulls you closer to him. 

His lips move hungrily against your sex, lapping up the juices flowing from you. Your head falls back in ultimate pleasure, body arching into him, moans slipping out of you harmoniously.  Your thighs tighten around his neck as you lean back on your palms, chest heaving with pleasure. 

Scott follows you as you shift back, his lips wrapped around your clit, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive bud. You're shaking with pleasure, feeling equally overstimulated and not quite stimulated enough to push you over the edge. 

He lightly grazes his teeth against your clit causing you to practically scream out in pleasure, your body shuddering with the sensation. He takes note of this and presses his pointer and middle finger into your soaked core, he lightly nips at your nub. 

You're a sloppy moaning mess, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, the pleasure mixing with the slight pain of his teeth on your sensitive spot. With a final loud moan your orgasm crashes over you, your body shakes aggressively with the intensity. 

You try to pull back, desperate for a second to catch your breath, but Scott holds you tight. His tongue working its magic on you, he laps up every bit of the remnants of your pleasure. You collapse against the bed as he finally pulls away from your pussy. 

He climbs on top of the bed, hovering over you with a sly smirk as you breath heavily, your eyes half-lidded. He brushes your hair behind your ear, placing his fingers that were once inside you, into his mouth licking up your slickness. 

“I’m not done with you just yet.” he purrs, his hands moving to his own clothes to pull them away. After he strips he lays down on the mattress, his hands moving to pull you on top of him. 

You take the message and guide his erection to your pussy, slowly sliding down on him, his hands grasp your hips tight. “Just like that,” he groans, letting you have full control as his length stretches you out. 

Scotts name falls from your lips like a prayer, your hands fall to his abs, holding yourself up. Your hips move against his as you slowly ride him, enjoying the passion between the two of you. He impatiently bucks his hips into yours with each movement, your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as he groans. 

“God, pretty Y/N. You’re so perfect on top of me.” he moans, his thumbs digging into your skin as you start to move faster. His dick seems to swell inside of you as he comes closer and closer to his own release. 

He bucks his hips into you, his face contorting with satisfaction. He groans your name, his hands guiding your movements. “Fuck.” he moans as his warm cum fills you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Keep going princess..” he praises you, making you bite your lip in response as you continue your movements. Your body starts to feel tired as you keep moving, his hands cup your ass squeezing the soft flesh. 

“Scott, I'm getting tired.” you whimper, head falling forward. 

He shakes his head, “You can do it, my pretty girl,” he directs your movements, sliding your ass up and down, your pussy clenches around his cock. Scott thrusts into you, his length fully hard inside you once again. 

You gasp as he fills you, sending shivers down your spine, your arms shake as you keep trying to hold yourself up. He chuckles softly as he notices the way you’re struggling, his arms move to your waist, encircling you into a hug as he sits up. 

The new position causes you to nearly scream in pleasure, his tip pressing into your g-spot. “Fuck,” you moan, pressing your face into his shoulder as you continue to bounce on him. His body supports yours as he fucks up into you. 

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you to keep going and to go faster. The pleasure is intense, almost too much for you. He grasps your hips, pushing himself into you fully, his dick hitting your spot with each thrust. 

You can feel yourself growing closer and closer, your orgasm building along with his. You bite down onto his shoulder as he circles your clit with his thumb. He groans at the pain, although it only enhances his pleasure, your movements become more sloppy as you begin chasing release. 

Your high crashes over you, body shaking as it does. Scott falls back on the mattress as his own orgasm falls over him, his cum spewing into your pussy mixing with yours. You crash on top of him, the both of you sticky with your sweat. 

Scott lets out a contented sigh as he feels your body relax on top of his, your breathing erratic. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as he struggles to catch his breath.

He can’t help but marvel at how good you make him feel. It’s unlike anything he’s experienced. He caresses your hair, running his fingers through it as his heartbeat slowly goes back to normal. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his tense muscles. “It seems you’ve finally become aware of that fact.”

[kaciidubs]

Open Heart

❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”

You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head. 

“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.” 

Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders. 

Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough. 

People pleasing. 

A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud. 

You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you. 

A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.

If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now. 

A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”

Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping. 

When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough? 

Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless? 

Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’. 

You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with. 

Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.

Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to. 

“Princess?” 

Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists. 

“Baby, can you hear me?” 

Guilt. 

Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago. 

He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.” 

You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-” 

“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.” 

Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you. 

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 

“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-” 

Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.” 

He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside. 

You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline. 

He was your lifeline.

“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?” 

True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space. 

Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side. 

It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.

“Love?” 

You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. 

“Wanna talk about what happened?” 

Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for." 

“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time. 

You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”

Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him. 

“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…” 

“C-Chris, I’m-” 

“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”

Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here. 

“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?” 

It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to. 

“...open heart?” 

This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.” 

Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another. 

“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”

Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-” 

The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him. 

“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?” 

“Please say something, Channie.” 

“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.” 

He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.

“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”

“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.” 

Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.

“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”

Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.

“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.

He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.

“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”

“Me?!” 

The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest. 

“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”

“Baby, you know you can’t-”

“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”

He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”

You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”

“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”

“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”

“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”

The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.

“Princess?”

You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”

“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”

A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?” 

Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.

“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.

Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”

“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”

“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”

“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”

Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”

He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”

“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”

“Find a menu while I change?”

“Order it while I wash my face?”

“Deal.”

Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.

[ya-boi-haru]

Sharing my Fable Coffee Shop AU plot lines I had cause - let's be real - it's not getting written any time soon, partially due to time and motivation, but also I like to do my homework before I write something like this, so it was tricky to determine if some of the things that happen... were even a thing that *can* happen like this...

Here's a link to some old headcannons about it: Link Here

It wasn't all finished, some parts/arcs/characters obviously missing or not done but...

I believe I called it something like: "The Longer You Brew, The Bitter It Tastes"

• Fable owned a coffee shop (Gilded Cafe), but one of those super fancy, high priced ones, with over the top looking desserts and high name fancy brand ingredients.

• Rae and Icarus grew up together and grew to live the cafe. Icarus was meant to inherit it, but they wanted to pursue their own career in hospitality.

• Since Fable frequently left on buisness and was never really around, Rae stepped in to run the Gilded.

• Ven is one of the oldest working members there and sometimes went with Fable on his buisness trips, however it seems he hasn't been doing that recently and actually, not a lot of people have been in contact/heard from Fable.

• When Ominous Bane - I don't think I worked out a good coffee shop au equivalent of OB, but it was illegal either way - got caught, Icarus made bale though no one really knows who got them out/it was left anonymous almost instantly. Momboo had to call Kai with help to bail Easton out. Centross was left in holding the longest and Rae managed to get the money to get him out.

• Kai had moved into the area recently not only to help but to start her new business, The Sea Dragon.

• Centross ended up getting a job at The Sea Dragon, though when he applied he didn't know Kai was the owner and after an ear full of criticism and cursing out, she gave him a chance

• Athena and Jamie were saving up to open their own bakery (Flour Garden) and would leave sample sweets at other Cafes (Raes', Momboos', Icarus' etc) to see how they would do and promote their future buisness

• The Aax and Ulysses story was tricky to work into the AU, but I did have the idea of Aax coming to work for Rae at The Gilded.

• Ulysses tried to adopt Aax, but something went wrong and they were separated, only to be reunited years later.

• Caspian was The Pink Tulips (Momboos lil coffee shop) no. 1 customer until he started going to The Gilded to see Rae for their coffee

• I also didn't get around to developing Wolf much in the AU, but yes, he was a Starbucks manager

• Midas owned a nightclub (The World Port) near Icarus' Cafe and you bet they were petty rivals, even though their businesses were completely different and Icarus had oddly never even met the guy.

• When they finally met and spoke, it was odd. Midas liked them and would even talk about how good they were at what they did, but thought their talents were wasted on a, "little rented out shoebox, that seemed to hit one too many dead ends on occasions" Icarus did feel like they wanted to do something more, but they wouldn't admit it to them.

• Rae really wanted to start a Cafe in his own name and do his ideas with it. His boyfriends were obviously super supportive.

• One night, for giggles, Ghaae were spit-balling names for Raes potential new business and looking them up to make sure they weren't already taken. They tried "Morningstar Castle" and ot was taken. The owner was Isla.

- After heavy, long days and nights of consideration, Rae decided, yes, he wanted to meet her.

- When they get there though, they meet Enderien. After some heated discussions, Enderien explains that

(TW: for postpartum depression, and ideas of miscarriage)

- Isla had a terrible birth experience with Rae, she was stressed, overwhelmed and dealing with all of Fables shady bullshit. When she finally gave birth, something came over her and she was convinced she had lost the child.

- Not wanting to strain Isla anymore and not knowing if she (Enderien) was actually ready to raise these two kids, she sent Rae with his brother and they were raised by Fable.

- Eventually, Rae did get to introduce himself to Isla and they slowly explained what had happened.

• Icarus learns that Midas' buisness actually started with Fable. They were young and needed just a *little bit more help* and got a loan form Fable. Midas was now indebted to Fable and he never let them forget that. And with everything seeming to get mysteriously worse at every turn for The World Port, Midas was hanging by a thread.

• Fable managed to contact Icarus, saying he needed help with a "small favour". The favours were questionable, but Icarus wanted to help their dad.

• After finding out Icarus was in contact with Fable again, they got very upset. They broke out into a fight and in a flash moment, Midas ended shoving Icarus but they tripped back and landed on their back wrong.

• Enderien was able to shed light on the mysterious Fable situation. He was actually involved with several illegal schemes (including but not limited to: Money laundering and fraud) and had been gone for so long cause he had a sense someone was close on his trail to finding out what he had done.

• That person was Ven. Ven had realised what Fable was doing and ended up going to Enderien for help. Ultimately - with some gentle nudges in the right direction - Centross was also in on what was happening and they helped take Fable down.

• In the end, Isla and Enderien would go back to their cozy life - with of course, visits from her sons.

- Rae would refurbish the Gilded into "Wonder Cafe" and it would be a hit. Raes step-grandparents actually helped him get the buisness started

- The Flour Garden would be starting their first weeks of business

- With Fable gone, Icarus inherited/got access to *a lot* of money. They used it to buy The World Port.

- Midas was free from Fables terror and the stress of being a buisness owner. They still work at TWP and loves it. Icarus feels they found their place here. (Side note: I came up with this before the final, how tf is this more accurate than any theory I came up with!?)

So yeah, that's some plot I had! Hope you like it?

[tojisfourthbiatchoftheweek]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* asking sukuna if you can paint his pretty nails 𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓴

✧.* 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪 takes a certain liking to having his long nails painted black. he says it reflects the darkness of his soul, but in reality he likes to stare at himself in the void of his nails, as he lays lazily on his throne. they are long, sharp, almost like tiny glades attached to his body. why carrying any weapon when his nails can do the job pretty well? it’s a waste of time for 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪.

black also helps the red of the blood of his enemies stand out, but he proudly admits such. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

so when one day, as you carry your pretty self around his majestic manor, you see sukuna- sukuna having his nails done?!

as the king of curses sits rather.. casually, instead of his usual stoid, cold, and arrogant facade, he now has two slices of cucumber on his eyes, hair still wet from his bath, as his robe is of a satin texture. his bunny slippers- which he stole from you, even though they’re far too small for him- hiding his black toenails, that have already been taken care of. his right hand is extended to uraume’s care, as they carefully put layers upon layers of black nailpolish on each of 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪’s precisely sharpened nails.

since that afternoon, you made it your mission to paint 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪’s nails… pink.

one day, as 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪 is seating, alone, on his throne, you dare to take a seat… on his lap. not that he will say anything to you, the apparent frown on his face speaking for itself.

“so, ‘kuna… it appears that you… don’t naturally have black nails…”

you begin foolishly, intertwining his hand with yours, as the whetted nails gently graze your palm. sukuna hums, although his facial expression remains still.

“and how do you know of it?”

he asks, wondering how you discovered his guilty pleasure. not that he’ll ever admit he likes it. he knows he can trust uraume-not that he doesn’t trust you- but.. if you were to know he enjoys his nails care time, he’d never hear the end of it. he already thinks you’re a talking machine, gifting you a shirt written on it “professional yapper”, he’d rather avoid giving you a reason to tease him.

“i might’ve seen you with uraume a few weeks ago, getting your nails done. i didn’t know you engaged in such… self loving activities, 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪. a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to feel confident, and if for you that is getting your nails done..”*

you admitted sheepishly, as you couldn’t resist teasing him a bit for it.

from that point on, started this.. little argument.

“c’mon, lemme paint’em pink.”

“no, you brat. and stop nagging me with these dog eyes. it’s not cute.”

“first of all, it’s puppy eyes. and it’s very cute. now stop being annoying, and quit fighting.”

as 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪, unamused, rolls his eyes, you chant in victory, grabbing your nail kit. you tend to the king’s nails meticulously, making sure not to hurt him or to cut his cuticles, or to not sharp them too low… as sukuna still remains in his throne.

as you apply the last layer of top coat, you stare at your artwork: hello kitty nails on the king of curses. as disgusted as he appears to be by the rather childish appearance of the nails, the twitch of his lips transmit the actual emotion he’s feeling. he’s actually quite amused.

“you did a mediocre job, brat.”

“i know, you’re welcome 𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓾𝓷𝓪.”

since that day, you became his assigned nail artist. not that it bothers you, it gives you more time to be close to him. and as much as he dislikes it… he loves these bonding sessions with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pls don’t make this flop 🙏🏾

[beelmons]

Viejonaaa give me #5 with Reid PLSSSSSSS

cw: breeding-kink, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, light degradation (very light)

12:36 p.m. with 13 seconds.

That's the exact time when Spencer knew his night would end up like this, after you told him, with apparent innocence, to help you out with something in the archive, and instead of files in his hands he came out of that place with your panties in his pocket.

He was tortured the entire day with the knowledge that there was nothing beneath the tight skirt you were forced to wear, some sort of dress code for an event, and had to put every inch of willpower to put his erection back down whenever he remembered.

But at last, the clock hit six, and everyone left, anyone but you and him.

His favorite part of the job had become getting to fuck you on the boss's desk, unbenknown to him and rest of the team, of course, under the pretense of having piled up work.

His hands pressed against the mahogany surface next to your hips as your thighs rested around the height of his waist, your head tilted back with utmost plesure as you listened to the divine sound of his balls hitting the skin of your ass, half floating up in the air, half rested on the unit chief's workspace.

He could only stare in awe at how beautiful you looked drenched in sweat, bottom lip dragged in between your teeth, your entire look ruined by having his dick so far down your throat minutes before; no one else could see this side of you, and that filled him with absolute pride.

After the clock hit six, you were only his, his to mess up in the most sinful of ways.

You could feel him beginning to throb inside of you, and his high-pitched moans let you know he was close. Deliciously close. His hips kept hitting as deep as they could, your dilligent pussy swallowing him whole each time.

Routine dictated that he unloaded somewhere else, more often than not that being your thigh or your back, but today something came over you. Your legs locked behind his back, your feet curled to link with each other with needy strenght.

He didn't notice until he attempted to pull apart from you, his hips being stopped by the wrestling move you had pulled on him.

"I can’t pull out when you wrap your legs around me like that." he observed, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration to avoid cumming in that very second.

"No one asked you to." you said with resolution, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him even closer "I want you to fill me up with so much cum I'll walk out here with it dripping from my thigh," you whispered with your lips teasingly close to his "and I want everyone who sees it to know your load was so big it most definitely got me pregnant."

He let out a deep, excited mewl at your words, and he couldn't control his urges any more. His lips closed the gap in a passionate and starved kiss, and his hands dragged your hips forward making sure his entire member was buried into you. There was no escape, he knew, he knew everything was going directly where he wanted it to.

He groaned huskily against your lips as he kept tinting your insides with his white release, and even after he was done you didn't let go of his lower body. Your walls continued clenching around him desperately, your own high making their rhythm almost uncontrollable.

"You're going to milk me dry." he half-joked when he pulled his face away to watch his breath.

"I'm not the wasteful type." you responded.

He remained in front of you, caged between your legs, with his sight completely focused on your eyes.

"W-What?" you asked when his stare had made you a little self conscious.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that such a pretty cunt will for sure create very pretty babies." right after his sentence he tugged at your hips once again.

The force he applied was enough to make you fall back on the desk, and you could feel him still stiff inside of you.

"So, just to make sure, why don't I give you another load?" you watched him unlock your legs with an almost hurtful grip, but that wasn't so he could pull away, it was so he could fix them in a way he knew that next time he came, not a drop would make it out of your womb.

There were only two thoughts in your brain that night (since he was fucking the rest to a place far, far away):

One, you would, one day, bear Spencer's children.

And two, you would have to find a way to dry up all the documents you most definitely ruined on Aaron's desk.

[quackarl]

YOU BELONG WITH ME; QUACKITY X READER (STRANGERS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, SLOW BURN.)

A/N: Hiii! I did not realize how hard it is for me to write about friends to lovers until I was writing this. I think I'm better at established relationship stuff, hahaha. But there was an interesting request in my inbox if I could write a Quackity X Reader piece, where the reader is hired by Quackity to edit his videos and Spanish subtitles and such, and proceeds to fall for him somewhere along the way. So, I did that, with a few twists of my own imagination. Be aware, that this story includes usage of alcohol. And it's painfully slow burn at times, hahaha, but that's the beauty of it sometimes.

I can’t remember a time in my life when I have felt more hopeless. Looking for a job really sucks, actually many things suck and I hate how life seems to pass me by, almost even faster when I feel like running out time, almost as if to tempt me to keep count of all the time I waste. Time flies when your life is falling apart, isn’t that what they say? 

I wish it was few days ago when this started, this desperate job-hunt, but it’s been so long now. I need something, and fast.

I see my phone light up, the only source of light in the dark room. I see it’s already 11 PM, which means I have wasted another night staying up thinking about my future and where do I fit, if anywhere. Great.

Besides that, what captures my attention next is that it’s my friend texting me, and they’re not here to chit-chat about the usual stuff we talk about every night, but telling me they have a perfect plan for me that’s worth a shot. I wonder how that’s possible, at 11 on a Monday night, and how do they know it any better than me what’s right for me? We both know that’s a lie, though, they know things about me before I even know them myself.

I demand to know more about this plan. I’ll try anything, that’s for sure. Anything to get my foot in the door in this world, you know? The next thing they send me is a mysterious link. I click on it and see it taking me to an application form. For what exactly? 

I let out a frustrated puff once I read the first line;

“We are hiring! Apply here for the position of ‘Video Editor’ and ‘Translator’ for Quackity!”

Ridiculous. I already feel defeated, rejected, because how would I have a chance, out of everybody else applying? What makes me special? That’s probably one of the questions on the application and I don’t see myself writing anything worth reading over in it.

I text my friend promptly, my will to fight suddenly vanishing into thin air, telling them exactly what I think of this idea, that it’s far-fetched and I’m not going along with it. Still, curiosity, or whatever, is kind of getting the best of me, I can’t lie, as I eye the open application. 

My friend texts me back, full of persistence;

“And why not? You studied editing and you’re good at it AND you speak Spanish which is what they’re looking for. You’re the whole package?! Tell me I’m wrong, you can’t.” 11:06 PM

Well, I can’t argue on that. It’s my power that I did happen to take editing courses, and Spanish courses too, for reasons I wasn’t sure about back then, but now it could all make sense.

I confess to my friend that I’m actually considering filling out the form, but I feel stuck. I don’t know what I would answer to certain questions such as why should they hire me, or what makes me, well, me. I don’t know.

I mentally hit a dead-end as soon as I got to the question of what makes me unique and stand out from the other candidates. I wrote out my first, honest thoughts, and everything the perfect version of me in the perfect world would think or say, if I only was more brave and less insecure. I wrote, a lot of stuff. If I say so myself, it was a good application in the end, with a little humour.

The scary part was to scroll down the page, hit the blue ‘submit’ button, and watch text appear on the screen;

“Thanks for your application and your interest towards working with us! We will be in contact as soon as possible as the recruitment process will proceed!” 

I think I just jumped out of my skin. I want to cringe at the thought of them reading over my application. Can I just not be me for a second, while I try to get over this?

I text my friend the last thing for the night, before deciding I need to sleep this shame off, and maybe tomorrow it all doesn’t matter, and we move on;

“Guess what? I just sent the application. I hope you’re happy now.” 11:25 PM

I watch their text pop up; 

“I am! You’ll be too when they hire you, trust me!” 11:26 PM

Sure, I think, almost wanting to roll my eyes. I appreciate the enthusiasm my friend has for my future when I don’t have any, but I mean, like I said before, this is an insane attempt. I drift to sleep soon after. A total shocker that I was able to even sleep a wink that night. What have I done and what am I doing to myself? 

.

The more time went by, the more all of this felt like a joke I always knew it was. It’s been a week now since I sent the application, and everything almost feels too normal for anything life-changing to happen anytime soon. 

Well, it wasn’t until I checked my email on a Wednesday morning when things started to feel somewhat real and moving again. I had something there waiting for me. An email regarding my application. I imagined it to be a nicely worded rejection, something along the lines of “We would like to thank you for your interest in us and the position you have applied for. Unfortunately, at this point, you are not being considered for this role, blah blah blah.” 

I suddenly felt like I was in fact not fine at all, when I started reading through it;

“Welcome to our team! We were impressed by your application and would love to proceed further with you! Please reply to this email as soon as possible if you are still available and interested in this position.”

What do I do?! I will reply, tell them I’m still interested, right? That I’m ready for things to proceed. Am I? How, or why, am I the lucky one here? I’m not used to claiming first place, I’m usually just a runner-up. But here begins my winning streak, I guess. 

I type a response with shaky hands, then put my phone down. I don’t think I’m actually ready for things to move any faster than I can take, and it’s already feeling like a lot right now, like I’m biting off more than I can chew. But if they see enough potential in me, it’s all in my head. 

Safe to say that it startled me when not even a few minutes later I received a follow-up email, asking me a few more questions, to which I replied to to the best of my ability. Questions such as am I certain I can commit to such schedule in a long run. It was sinking in for me as I was typing, that this really is a one hell of an opportunity that they are offering me, and I need to be the best. There’s no other option.

The next email they sent, it meant all business;

“We are thrilled to hear you are ready to work with us! Would you be free for a call tomorrow at 8 PM?”

Okay, straight to the point. I tell them I’m free and ready.

Except that I didn’t feel so ready anymore when I received one last email;

“Great! We will have Alex call you tomorrow.”

Yeah, I’m absolutely sweating bullets now. I stayed up much later than I had intended that night, mostly thinking about how fast things are happening now, and if I have started something here I can’t end. I typed his name countless times into the internet to see more of him, but it feels like the more I know, the less capable I am of dreaming of the possibilities of what will happen. So I just went to bed. 

. 

The next day arrived faster than I hoped it would. Can I really do this? Am I ready? So many questions and not enough time to figure out the answers. Quite literally, because I lingered in bed the whole day and hurriedly had to jump into my clothes when I eventually got myself up.

It was 7.50 PM when I sat myself down at my desk, ready to take on whatever was coming. Even if it knocks me down once, I will get up twice. No matter what it takes. It didn’t help my nerves when I kept checking and re-checking the time on my phone. Now I just want to get over with it, so I can finally have some peace of mind and not live in the distress for a minute longer. 

Then it was finally 8 PM, sharp. This is a waiting game, I guess. A matter of minutes. 

When the phone finally rang, it was 10 minutes later. The longest 10 minutes of my life, by the way. I’m surprised I didn’t curl up and die within those 10 minutes, that’s what it felt like. 

I give myself a few second pep-talk, clearing my throat, before picking up as nonchalant as I could, acting like I haven’t been sitting and waiting here shaking like a leaf, thinking about if death was more painless, “hi there!”

I mentally cringe at myself for sounding a little too excited and loud, but Alex didn’t seem to mind as he speaks back to me, “hi! Hello. How are you?”

“I’m good, yeah! Nervous, actually, if you can’t tell yet. You?” I’m already starting to crumble and my voice is wavering as I realise that I’m just… me, and he is he. Even as strangers, he’s way out of my league. He is known, adored, watched by millions of people, I am not. I’m average, boring, some would even say. I don’t blame them. So, remind me how am I, out of everyone, here, in this situation? 

I hear him smile into the phone, “don’t be. I’m good, fuckin’ amazing, to answer your question. And just overall, you know…,” he trails off, before taking a sharp breath, “anyway, I guess I’m just here to sort of do a vibe check. I mean, I can tell you’re cool, so there should be no problems there, but—talk to me, about anything. I would appreciate it, though if it was related to the job, but don’t fret too much, okay?”

I now smile to myself too and at the fact that he, first of all, is here trying his best not to overwhelm me, and that he keeps cussing as if he doesn’t care this is technically a business call. I could loosen up a bit too in my own ways. 

“Well, I—first of all, thanks for doing this. I’m really excited about this opportunity,” I ramble until I realize how I’m getting a bit sidetracked here from the question, thankfully he doesn’t point it out, but instead encourages me to keep going, so I did, this time right on subject. I tell him what I can, about myself and my studies that I worked hard for and that would benefit me in succeeding in this job position. He listens every word, throwing in some comments and pleased sounds, as to approve what he’s hearing.

“Wow, yeah, that’s fuckin’ impressive, you should be proud. Not everyone can do it, you know? Like that’s some tough shit if you want to be any good, so I definitely respect what you got goin’ on.”

Why am I now spiraling? Maybe because I can’t recall the last time someone bothered to compliment me on this so thoroughly, and out of all the people possible, it has to be him. I didn’t expect it to actually rob me of words like this.

“Thanks,” I eventually stutter, “didn’t think I was going to hear that, especially from you. It means a lot.”

“Of course, I’m glad it means a lot. I really mean it.”

This is definitely not the kind of vibe I had prepared myself for. I feel like we are already…. bonding? Just a little bit. I feel it more as we keep talking, and one conversation turns into another and then another. I learn something, that he undeniably has a great sense of humour, very witty and likes to laugh, but can also be serious when needed, talk sense into anybody and be the voice of reason. I think it was at least for a good hour that we just exchanged words and stories, and laughed a lot too, of course. I even come out of my shell and tell him jokes, that makes him laugh in turn. 

Before we could get any more in depth, he mutters through a yawn, “I’m genuinely excited to have you, it’s gonna be so fuckin’ great. So, welcome to the Team Quackity—no one says that, I just made that up, I just lied to you—but, I really think you’re gonna do amazing. I think I’m going to put my little best foot forward and head to bed at a decent time, for once. My feet are not little though, like I’m not a fuckin’ gnome or anything.“

We both laugh. It is getting somewhat late and our brains are getting to the stage of tiredness when everything said is suddenly funny. It’s very reassuring to see this human side of him, that he is so easy to talk to and that maybe I was anxious for nothing, and felt the pressure to appear so interesting for nothing, because he made me feel interesting so effortlessly.

And I guess I’m in now, I got the job, judging by his words, that he is excited to have me around in the future. It’s going to take a while to get used to this. Maybe I ever won’t, so he’ll always keep me on my toes. 

���I’ll see—or talk to you soon, I think,” I tell him. 

He doesn’t bother correcting me or himself, “yeah, I’ll see you soon, very soon probably.”

After that all I heard was rustling from his end and a small noise indicating he was getting tired, so we both know it’s time to wrap things up here. Until next time. It made me want to squirm to know there will be a next time.

I still don’t know how I managed to fall asleep that night with a mind running a thousand miles an hour, but I did, eventually. 

. 

It didn’t take many days at all before I already had something waiting for me in my inbox, some work to do. This is what he must have meant by seeing me very soon.

And so the first day of work and then a whole week of work was over in a blink of an eye, and I found myself busy trying to juggle everything. Doing my best was the best I could do, as I spent my days taking everything in and making this my new normal. Speaking of, it will take a while for any of this to feel normal.

I got to put my rusty Spanish skills to use, I even surprised myself with how easy I suddenly found the language I struggled with at a certain point in my life. I guess all it really takes is finding the right thing.

As to what comes to Alex, I barely hear from him. Mostly because this is strictly business, and when we do talk, it’s about work, and even then he keeps it very short. I understand, he’s busy, I’m not his only priority. The one-on-one talk I got to have with him on the phone that one night, when he was supposed to interview me but we ended up talking about anything else, that was one time and definitely won’t be something that happens frequently. Things have changed since then. There has to be some boundaries set of what is appropriate, because after all, I just work for him and not playing any role of a friend.

So, it’s been very independent, lonely at times, doing this job and I don’t know how or who to talk to about it. New job blues, it must be. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. 

. 

I was startled out of my sleep to my phone obnoxiously ringing. Well, it was obnoxious at first to be woken up like that, until I realised there aren’t many people who would call me this early in the morning. 

I make grabby hands for it, until I find it in the midst of the covers, and to my horror see Alex’s name on the screen. It was still there no matter how many times I tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes, confirming I’m not dreaming. This could be pretty much about anything, which scares me. It’s very unlikely for him to call me anymore just to chit-chat about nothing in particular. There has to be something else.

I hesitantly pick up, “hello?”

“Hi! I just wanted to… you know, check in, ask how’s it going?” he sounds way too happy for there to be to bad news. Whew.

I tell him it’s going good and hear the smile in his voice as he seems to be satisfied with my brief answer, “good, I’m glad. I know it might be a shit show at first, like everything’s new, you feel like you’re alone in it—all of that, but you’re not, okay? Like, I really do appreciate the hell out of you and what you’ve done so far. It’s been really great to see it!”

“Thanks. That’s actually what I needed to hear. It’s been a lot of…. change for me,” I feel like I’m flustered like a fool right now, good thing he can’t see it because I must look crazy. I wish I knew better words to express my gratitude for him right now, because it’s exactly what I wanted to hear, especially after feeling low, but I never thought he’d actually say it. Especially not right now on this specific, beautiful morning when I’m still half asleep and oblivious to the world. 

“I’m sorry if I haven’t really been there to show my appreciation more, but I’m genuinely just so fuckin’ busy, or if I’m not busy I’m sleeping or some shit, because as great as I am, I still do need my little beauty sleeps. But, if there’s anything I can do for you, just—you will let me know, right?”

I don’t know where this is coming from and what is causing him to talk to me in such confidence and care. All I know is that I suddenly don’t feel as alone as I did not too long ago.

“Sure. I’m really glad you told me that. Takes a bit of a weight off my shoulders.”

“Of course,” he emphasizes, “I’m glad we’re on the same page. So, what are you doing right now?”

I’m surprised at his attempt to keep talking to me instead of hurrying to go on with his day, like he usually does. I rack my brain for something sensible, if there’s a right answer to his question, “uh—is this a trick question? Is there something I forgot to do?”

He laughs, “no, no, I swear! So, you’re not up bright and early, not a morning person?” 

“Who is?” I chuckle and fight off a yawn.

He groanes as if stretching himself to prove his point, “fair. So, you’re not doing anything? You’re free to—I don’t know—have a little chat?”

Is there something he hopes to discuss, since he keeps hanging on the line? I don’t know for the life of me what that would or could be, or maybe I’m wrong and mean and paranoid and he is just kind enough to call me and initiate conversation after not hearing from me in a while.

“Yeah, sure. Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

“No. Just anything, like fuckin’… why Spanish? Why did you learnt Spanish in the first place? Why did you chose it?”

Great question. I smile to myself, “sounds like you had something to ask me all along.”

And so we fell into a conversation about it, about me deciding to learn Spanish in the first place, me telling him it was more of decision that I made one night when I was bored and couldn’t sleep and thought it was a such a godsent, brilliant idea. And so I applied for those classes that same night, I think I was half asleep and delirious, and the next morning I had to suck it up and face the consequences of my sleepy actions and attend those damn classes. It was surely tough at first, like everything new is, but eventually, with some hard work, I got the hang of it. 

It was over 30 minutes later, when we finally said goodbyes and hung up and then it was silent again, except for his words now echoing in my head, and how he seemed to be very into learning more about me, like he eats, sleeps and breathes that new information.

Now that I sort of have his permission to rely on him if I need to, I want to make the most of it. I mean, possibly, if I ever need it, but on the flip side, I’m aware I’m not here to make friends or connections. We haven’t really even connected more than as people who work together so far, which I understand. Except for those few longer talks we’ve had on the phone, but I think since he’s so approachable, he probably talks like that with everyone. I don’t feel too special yet.

.

Things slowly made more sense and fell into place as it was that same cycle for the remaining of the week and the weeks after. I spent the days sitting at my desk, working. Time flied, for sure. The only thing that made me feel as if the days were dragging, was that I didn’t hear much from Alex. I actually didn’t hear from him at all, except for when I reached out to him concerning work, but other than that we didn’t really talk. I didn’t want to be the one to reach out to him for a casual chat, because it felt inappropriate, unprofessional even.

I definitely got crashed back to the harsh reality from whatever high I had been on when he used to have the time to talk to me. I understand it, but I did kind of crave some human interaction, some communication. Blame it on me and that I’m a people person and that maybe I find him interesting just a little bit. 

I want to know how he is doing and kind of wanted to have him ask me how was I doing too. Well, I am buried in work, that’s how I’m doing. I sometimes too need something, or someone, to share the burden with. I wonder if I’ll always feel this way.

.

Something blaring disrupts my sleep and wakes me up. Whatever it is, it’s too loud for whatever time it is. It’s not my alarm, I acknowledge, but my ringtone. My phone. I recognize that sound. 

It almost hurt to pry my weary eyes open so fast, but I still experience a deja-vu. This sort of feels all too familiar, doesn’t it? Who’s calling me this early? It’s 9 AM on a... Saturday!? I completely forgot it‘s the weekend. That’s what intense work hours does to a human.

“Hello?” I didn’t even try to conceal the sleep in my voice.

“Well, hello to you too,” my oh-so-dear-friend speaks on the line. Right now I feel like I could tell them off, but to be fair, we haven’t talked in a long while. I just realised how long it’s been since I have heard their voice now that I’m hearing it.

I groan groggily, “hi, hello. Cut the chit-chat and tell me why you woke me up.”

I pull the phone away to check the time again on the screen, if I had read it correctly. Yep, 9.01 AM on a Saturday morning. No one should be awake at this hour, especially not me. 

“I was finally able to sleep in today, you knew this,” I keep whining.

My friend just laughs like this is all a joke, “or you could come and have breakfast with me, just like the old times. I work too, so don’t tired-shame me! I love sleep as much as you do, but it’s not every weekend we can do this anymore. You barely even talk to me these days.”

I sigh again, now out of pity, because as tired as I am, they’re right. We really don’t even talk as much as we used to do when we were not busy with work and well, adulting. Life. Ugh.

“Fine,” I eventually agree to it, “you got me. I’ll see you soon then, I guess.”

My friend squeals, “you really gave in already, this easily? I’ll see you soon!”

I stretch my tired body that feels like it isn’t ready to get up just yet. I need a minute, or two, or ten to wake up and I probably have like 30 minutes to an hour to get ready. Definitely enough, even if I stall in bed for a bit longer. And that’s what I’m planning on doing.

I cry out when my phone rings again not even a few minutes later. There’s no way my friend is on their way already. Or maybe something came up and they are telling me I can go back to sleep. Am I an awful person for wishing that? I had a change of attitude when I saw who was calling me.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Long time no see, or talk,” he speaks. It’s Alex.

Why is he calling me now? I’m suddenly feeling way more awake than I did just seconds ago. Yeah, screw sleep. What does he want?

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, “what’s up?”

“So, something needs to be up for me to call you? I can’t just call you?” he speaks before breaking into laughter, “I’m just fuckin’ around, I’m kidding! Anyway, speaking of that seeing, how—what would you say if I asked if you want to pop a visit to my place? I’d love to see you in person, you know, and I’m in town, I have like no shit to do for once, I’m a free fuckin’ man. If I was you, I’d take advantage of that, but you do you, I guess.”

This is not what I expected in a million years. Even if his house was the only house in this world, I still wouldn’t expect access there. I mean, I’m flattered as hell, but why? I’m sure he has other friends he would rather see—and we’re not even friends, actually.

I guess kindness comes in many forms. He doesn’t really owe me anything, especially letting me to see such a private part of his life like the place he calls home. Just because I’m now a part of his job, an acquaintance perhaps, doesn’t mean he has an obligation to let me see more of him. But, who am I to say no?

I hesitate, before finally uttering a response, “sure—I mean, if you’re sure, then yes. I’d like to, it’s not like I have anything to do.”

Except that I actually do have something to do. The breakfast.

Of course I don’t have the heart to correct myself, not when Alex sounds this excited, “great! So, I’ll be expecting you… let’s say in a few hours? Nothing too crazy. I want to—you know, I usually have a thing that I want to see as many people as I can who I’m working with to kind of, just to see them, makes sense, right? A vibe check, some would say.”

Finally he tells me he’ll text me the address later and there he goes, as the line goes dead and I’m left with my own thoughts. As terrified as I feel, I also do feel a little curious. What’s going to actually happen once I get there? Is this a build-up to something bigger? What will he think of me when I’m not just an ideal voice on the phone, but a real, existing person standing in front of him? 

I call my friend and they immediately pick up, “there’s no way you’re already ready! I’m leaving in a few—”

“No!” I yap, “listen—this is an actual emergency, like Alex just called me and asked me to come over, like he actually wants to see me and I said yes, because I spoke before I could think, so here I am, thinking what the hell I have just done.”

“What? What are you talking about? Like right now? You have to go right now?”

“Like soon-ish, yeah, I mean—should I not? Am I actually going to go?”

“Of course you’re going! In what world would you not go?!”

“So—you’re okay with it?” I ask. I don’t care what anyone’s telling me right now, I still feel stubborn if this is the right thing to do. I mean, there’s a lot at stake here. I could like, say something stupid to him or get all tongue-tied. 

My friend sighs loudly, “I’m saying this as kindly as I can, but shut up. You’re going! I’ll just see you another day! Just tell me how it goes then.”

We talked for a bit more, or more like, my friend talked and I halfheartedly listened. I feel completely unprepared for what is about to happen. Good luck to me. Luckiness is not my strong suit, but it has to be today. 

.

I was finally walking to the bus stop when a drizzling rain started to fall, and it did when I got on and off the bus too. Before I was caught in a storm, I check the address on my phone, and then I’m on my way to my destination.

It was not more than 15 minutes when I had made it, and there it was. In front of me was a really nice apartment building. The dark, cloudy sky made it look even more majestic, as it stood tall and proud. As I walk along the concrete sidewalk, I maneuvered my way to the entrance and right up the few front steps.

I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t as I make my way inside. Thankfully, I don’t see anyone as I step into the well-lit lobby, because I was definitely a sight to see, a bit damp from the rain and looking around like I don’t know where I am.

My heart is still heavy in my chest and my ears in the elevator. I keep tapping my foot whenever I could keep myself still, which was nearly impossible. But I had some time to think; what do I actually do once I’m there? No idea.

I finally make it to the right door and then it’s now or never. Well, it’s not going to get any easier, so I guess I have to go for it. After I gather the courage to ring the doorbell, I hear the lock turn and see the knob twist, and there he is, in front of me.

He has a really nice, contagious smile that I’ve only seen on screen before, but I never saw just how it reaches his eyes, the dark and captivating eyes that reminds me of nice things in life, framed by his long lashes. He looks relaxed, his face a bit sleepy and his hair covered by a black beanie. 

“Hey!” he smiles wide, looking like he can’t stay put in one place much longer either, “it’s so nice to see you! Come here!”

Before I have the time to say or do anything, he pulls me into a warm, welcoming hug. Definitely a good hugger too. His scent fills the air around me, which has a calming effect. The hug was warm like a sweater and a soft, pleased sigh escaped his lips. 

“Hi,” I mumble against him, “it is. I didn’t know you’re a hug person. Noted.”

Alex just laughs, like it was everyday for him, “thanks for thinking I’m an asshole. What, should I just fuckin’… push you like the asshole I am?”

We laugh off any tension, if there ever was any to begin with. See, he’s really funny like that, which makes me think that maybe there won’t be any rough patches today and we will get along fine. When we pull apart, he takes his body heat away with him, and I feel a little chilly again from the rainfall. He steps aside in the doorway and with an excited grin, invites me in, “come on in!”

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I walk past him, “gladly, thanks.” 

God, I need to stop being so formal and boring, and lighten up a little. My head is still hazy, I can’t remember the reason why I am here in the first place. Was there ever such thing? Guess I’ll find out soon. 

He shows me around inside. What I saw in front of me, was a place that was really simple yet modern, very inviting indeed. Lots of tones of grey and white. There wasn’t any clutter in my sight, everything looked squeaky clean and organized. There was a corner that looked like his streaming set-up, that looked more messy than the rest of his place did.

“So, this is my place slash office, where I do work. Hence the name ‘office’,” he tells as he gestures me to take a look around. I laugh, and he seems satisfied at successfully amusing me, as he moves our attention to the living room.

I agape at how spotless it is wherever I look at. There’s no way he does this himself with a schedule like his, or if he does, it’s impressive.

“I’m a clean-fuckin’-person, okay! As you can see. Honestly, my life hack would be just not to do shit. If you don’t do anything, there won’t be a mess. See, it’s fuckin’ easy.”

We both snicker out loud again and he motions at the tiny kitchen, exclaiming, “this is where I cook! I bust my little ass in this little kitchen every day.”

“You do?” I ask, surprised. Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, especially after what he said, so now it sounds kind of awkward, but it’s also kind of funny. I’m just surprised that he seems to be so good at everything. 

He just chuckles, “yeah. I’ll show you someday. Only if you promise to pay attention to the food and not only to my ass, like get your priorities straight first.”

Oh God. Someday? I’m here for the long run? I’m just going to ignore the latter comment. I put my hands up in surrender, “I promise.”

As we laugh again, I wonder how he is truly, effortlessly funny, like a breath of fresh air. I’m sure I haven’t met someone like him before. Now it all clicks why he has such a wide audience from every corner of the world, it’s not hard to find his personality likeable at all. He wears his sense of humor like it’s his lucky charm and it works.

I follow him with my arms tightly tucked on my sides to the living room area, that’s kind of one with the kitchen, like a joint. I must look painfully awkward. 

“And this,” Alex gestures, “is where I kick back and relax. Not too much time for that lately, I’ve been so fuckin’ busy with work.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt it. I’m glad if I can make your life a little easier in that spectrum.”

He has a nice view of the bustling city from the window too, something I find hard to divert my gaze from, just to find myself staring right into his eyes when I did.

“You do!” he smiles widely, “that’s why I wanted to see you, actually, to kind of know even more about what you’re all about. You wanna sit down for a second? Can I interest you in a drink?” he pulls his best British accent for the question. Oh, so here’s the part when it gets real, him questioning me. 

I agree and again follow his trail to the kitchen and watch as he pulls out a chair for me. He made it seem like it’s such a nonchalant thing to do, but it strangely made my face feel warm. He didn’t have to do that, but he did. I thank him and sit down. 

“So, what would you like to have?” he speaks behind me.

I eye the kitchen, “honestly, whatever’s the easiest for you.”

I hear him hum and then he is gone. I watch as he walks around the kitchen, opening the fridge and the cupboards. I feel a bit creepy just following him with my eyes, so I sneakily pull my phone out of my pocket and see there’s a text from my friend. I should’ve known.

“What’s going on there? I’m dying to know!” 1:01 PM

I kind of did promise them that I would text them as soon as things progressed or happened, which they really haven’t so far. I’m just kind of lost in the moment right now, taking it all in. 

I mentally shake my head and fight a smile, texting them back that I promise and vow to tell everything later, except that not much has happened yet. We haven’t exactly gotten to the point here, whatever it is.

There’s one thing I can’t deny so far and could talk about forever, which is that he’s really fun to be around. He’s one of those people who can immediately light up a room with his energy, which is what he probably does every time he’s with people. I suddenly feel small in his world. Sure, I’m here right now, sitting in his house, and I’m lucky enough to call myself someone who gets to work with him, but still. I’m just one of the many people that gets to watch him shine from the sidelines. 

I put my phone away once I hear him coming back, and watch as he places a drink in front of me, “for you,” and one for himself “and for me,” and sits down opposite me. The drink is lime green. It looks delicious. I tell him that and shiver as I wrap my hand around the cold glass.

He smiles at me with his pearly white teeth on full display, “it’s fuckin’ amazing. I think it’s so cool, like the shit that bartenders do, mix a bit of that, throw a little bit of that in, and this is one of my many creations. I do feel like a bartender whenever I make this.”

I smile and take a sip. It was amazing. “You make this for everyone?”

He seems stunned, “no, no! I mean, I rarely get people over, we’re all just so fuckin’ busy to dilly-dally, and if I do, it’s work related—you’re work related too, I know, but—it’s a day off for the both of us, so fuck it, why not, you know?”

“Yeah,” I take another sip, “well, I’m glad you invited me over.”

He broadly grins at me from behind his glass, “you already told me that.”

I feel myself getting flustered. I’m not really too good with human interactions or words today.

“I’m just kidding,” he gently laughs, “I’m glad you came over, too. Uh—you—how have you liked everything so far? I feel like I know a lot about you already, but you just—you’re a very interesting person.” 

So, this is the kind of stuff he wanted to talk about? And did he just call me interesting? I’m going straight back to feeling nervous. Meanwhile he takes a sip of his drink too and keeps his eyes on me the whole time.

“Me?” I gulp, “I don’t know whether to thank you or tell you that you’re delusional.”

He just snickers again, there was no hint of real hurt or judgment there, “no, no! Like now, you could’ve told me more, something I don’t know, but it’s almost like you got some secrets, like you’re avoiding some shit. Are you? Every time I try to talk to you, you don’t.”

He holds a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and I’m thinking if I should hold back my words here. Have I been holding back that much? I haven’t realised it, if I have. Maybe I’m just scared of being too much and I don’t want to, well, be too much. I don’t know how deep is too deep, especially considering our work situation-ship.

Just when I thought I somewhat know him, he shows me a new side of him. There’s been a lot of people in my life who’s had their eyes on me, but never cared enough to look closely enough to see me the way I am. At least not in the way I feel I deserve, like I do with him. He seems fairly interested in me, which is the highest compliment, I think. 

“I thought you invited me here just to talk business,” I stutter. 

”We’re not working right now, I already told you.”

His face was content as ever as he leaned on the palm of his hand and listened to me talk. And what did we talk about? Everything. All about me. I found it rather easy to open up to him, once I got started. The only time it didn’t feel as easy was when I was reminded how intensively he’s listening and looking at me. I gulp down my drink and relish the sweet taste.

“I think it’s kind of a fair trade if you tell me something about you next,” it’s my turn to grin at him. 

It was enough to make him crack up, “what is this, a fuckin’ truth or dare? Spin the bottle? You want another drink? I could go for another one. Fuck it, let’s do 10 more! This is fun, I’m having a good time.”

He convinces me to have one more with him. I mean, I can’t leave him now, I think it’s just getting good here. We are having fun, is it a bit too much fun? I don’t know, but neither of us seem to care enough to stop it.

I agree, “sure, I’ll have another and dare you to tell me something next, like how did you pick me? Or was it even you? You had your fair share, now it’s my turn.”

I can play this game too and I’m really interested in why he chose me. All this time I thought it was luck, but was it? What else does he see in me? 

He grabs our glasses, going to the kitchen to work his magic again, with his back facing me. It didn’t take him long, but it was long enough time for a silence to fall over us, except for a few clinks from the kitchen, and enough time for me to wonder about what has happened to far today.

He is so chill, unlike me on the inside. He didn’t make a big deal of us meeting, which is fine. I mean, I do work for him, this is all business, so I don’t know what else I would expect to happen. But I am taken aback he is willing to share so much with me and that it doesn’t seem to phase him much. He is letting me read him like an open book. 

He was way too soon back with our second batch of drinks, “so, you want to know why you’re here?”

I nod coyly. 

He beams and leans back on his seat, resting his arm behind him and fiddling with his glass with the other hand, “I mean, you know everything I need you to know and you’re good at it. You know a lot, you’re very smart and you work hard. I saw your application. And I know you’re very funny, too. You were funny as fuck on the phone when we first talked.”

Oh no. Yeah, that was my tired brain talking back then.

He interrupts me, “no, I think you’re funny as fuck. You should do that more often. Why are you holding back?”

“I don’t know,” I don’t know what I’m actually going to say to this one, “I’m not used to mixing my humour with work, I guess, but glad it works for you.”

“It does, like you don’t need to hold back around me. Be yourself, you know? Like, fuck it. I say stupid shit too, but you don’t think any less of me, do you?”

“No, I dont,” I confess. I’m happy he told me that. He’s giving me the freedom to be me, which I never realised is the greatest thing someone could give you. 

After both of our glasses were empty and we had gone over the stupidest jokes and stories that matter, I think it was time for me to get out. We really had found ourselves talking about everything, from our tastes in music to plans for the future. 

I tell him, “I should go soon, but this was fun! We should do this again—probably not! But if we ever happen to… I don’t know.“ Damn it. I know very well we shouldn’t and probably won’t ‘hang out’ like this again. Stupid me, not knowing when to stop. I’m such embarrassment-prone.

To my luck, he shakes his head, “no, I’d like that! You have a phone, I have a phone, you know, let’s make shit happen. Easy.”

I dodged a bullet right there. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think that us meeting up again would be unprofessional or weird and I didn’t make matters worse.

We get up and I let him lead me to the door. I’m about to step out, but not before turning to see him standing there with his arms spread out for me. A little warmth rushes into my cheeks as we mold together and share a hug for the second time today and he gives my back a soothing rub. 

“Have a safe trip home,” he speaks lowly in my ear.

I watch him return the small smile through the little crack, until the door shuts close with a soft click. I walk back to the elevator, and once I’m certain I really am alone, I pull out my phone and text my friend. I didn’t even realise what I was typing as I was typing it. 

There’s one thing in my mind I need to air out, because the longer it stays there, the more it becomes a secret. And I don’t want to keep secrets from my friend right now, secrets that are confusing me as much as it will confuse them;

“Oh my God. Since when has he become so attractive?” 3:05 PM

.

It didn’t take long at all for my friend to reply, like they had been waiting by the phone, but certainly not for a message like that. For the first time ever, I was honestly scared to see what they have to say this time. I don’t blame them though, I myself even feel a little scared of what I’m feeling right now.

“What?! What did you guys even do? You know this sounds very suspicious?” 3:06 PM

Trust me, I know it’s stupid, but it’s the way he actually cared to listen to me, and, I don’t know, appreciate me like no one has before. I’m afraid no one will understand what I mean, they would have to meet him and be in my place to understand. He is somehow irresistible in every way, the way he talks, the way he listens, both just as important qualities. 

I guess there is no use in explaining myself, but I still text my friend back, trying to find the right words;

“Nothing like you’re imagining, we just talked! But he said some nice things to me, like he finds me interesting, like he’s just a very nice person and he has an attractive personality. I don’t know if that’s a thing but if not then I just invented it.” 3:09 PM 

I know if there’s someone who sees right through me, it’s my friend and I will probably be called out any second now. Just to be clear, I would not mess with him nor this job opportunity. I’m not like that, I just appreciate a good personality, I guess. And I mean, I’m not saying his looks are bad either... but, no.

My friend replies,

“I believe you, but this sounds like so much more. And I’m quoting you now, ‘attractive’?!” 3:11 PM

I wish I would’ve kept my mouth shut, because I don’t think I will ever hear the end of this. I end up finding my way back home safe and sound, which was actually a miracle, considering that I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going or which bus I hopped on, because there was just one thing on my mind. I don’t like Alex like that, but I’m also running out of ways to defend my case. It’s too soon to even think about these things. 

I went to bed early, deciding to catch up on some tv-shows, because I didn’t exactly know what else to do with myself. And sure, I was also texting my friend, telling them it’s not like that and if we can now drop it and move on. I feel too stupid and embarrassed to think about it any longer. So I just got ready for bed and started up a tv-show re-run. Of course I couldn’t pay much attention when I had my friend blowing up my phone and my brain screaming the same stuff at me. This secret can never get out. 

.

The next day, as I woke up, the first thing on my mind was whatever it was that had taken over me yesterday, but other than that it was all the same. I so wanted to text Alex, thank him for having me over. I suddenly felt so very bored of my own life, as I realised that wasn’t going be something we do often, if ever again.

I spent the whole day in bed, just killing time and relaxing, not like I had anything else to do. I could call up my friend, but I honestly still feel a bit embarrassed to talk anything over with them yet. I would rather solve it myself. My feelings, my problem, right?

.

A few weeks have passed. I haven’t talked much with Alex. It’s the same as usual, we have fallen back to the normal ritual, where the only interaction we ever have is strictly work-related talk. 

I, myself have also finally fallen back into my calm state of mind and so has my friend. Everything feels the same it’s always been. Obviously, my friend hasn’t completely let me live it down, but I can live with it. We still occasionally talk about it, or more like, they ask me if I’m okay, because apparently, I sounded so passionate about my feelings and it’s not healthy to brush them off. 

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed by swiftly, when I heard from Alex again, on another Saturday evening. My phone was going off, with his name on the screen.

“Hey. Sorry if this was sudden, or whatever,” he quietly speaks to me when I pick up.

“It’s fine,” I assure, “I actually have been waiting to hear from you.”

Was that too much? I feel like that’s one thing that would have been better if it only existed in my head. I was relieved to hear him find the humour in it though.

“Yeah?” I heard him chuckle on the phone, “you’ve been waiting for me like I’m fuckin’ Santa or some shit?”

I laugh too and played along with his usual banter, “oh, yeah. Now, do you have something for me?”

He actually sighs and gets serious, “I have like, bad news and then there’s like, amazing news.”

Oh no. How bad are we talking about? Is it about me? Just when I thought things would go back to normal, whatever normal is. I make a noise to urge him to keep going.

He sighs again, “okay. I’m… going to have to move and leave that fuckin’ amazing apartment behind, that you just saw a few weeks ago. Like, what the fuck? I get it, like life comes at you fast, but like, fuck.”

“What?” I ask him, sounding too disappointed for my own liking, “you have to? Like, this is it? You’re getting evicted or something?” 

He finally laughs lowly, “okay, fuck you. I’m just kidding! No, actually—I got this offer, hear me out, this is a big ass spoiler, but I’m getting a huge sponsorship, which means that the amount of content I have to do for them, and with them, of course, is just so much that it would be necessary for me to live there. At least for now.” 

He keeps on rambling about this opportunity and genuinely sounds like he couldn’t be more excited, meanwhile I don’t make a peep.

“And I figured to tell you now, because I know you’ll be cool about it. I’ll still have work for you to do, so technically this doesn’t change anything for you, but, I mean, fuck it, why wouldn’t I do it?! It’s time for me to spread my little wings and go out there in the big world,” he keeps going while I still remain silent.

“Oh, wow, not what I expected to hear, but that’s awesome. So, where’s the bad news?” I finally say to him, when I don’t hear his voice anymore, trying my best to conceal the lack of excitement in mine. 

“I know right! Those aren’t even bad news, ‘cause like, what the fuck? It’s going to be amazing. I figured I should let you know, ‘cause when you see me filming from somewhere else, just so you know I haven’t been kidnapped, I’m not streaming from someone’s basement. No one’s forcing me to make content.”

Well, that got a genuine giggle out of me. I want to show my support more, but I feel a bit sad about this. I don’t know why. Why do I find it so hard to be happy for him right now? 

I understand that this is really something he wants to do, something that’s bringing him lost motivation back, so what else would I tell him other than ‘yes, it’s a good idea’? Even though it means he’ll be far away in another state, God knows exactly how far, but I can’t be selfish and act all hurt when this doesn’t even affect me. But, how long will he be gone for?

“So, when will I see you again? Not anytime soon, I assume?” Now I’m asking the real questions here.

“I know... yeah, probably not. Shit just happens so fast, isn’t that crazy?”

At least he’s honest. I don’t know and neither does he. There’s my answer. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little upset. I guess we have—I don’t even know how much more—time left, and then everything will change, or not, like he assured, but I think it will all change for us. Maybe not in all the worst ways, but how often does change not hurt at first? It always does. 

.

That bitter feeling didn’t die, no matter how many days I tried to drown it for. There’s still a tiny string in me holding onto the hope that he’s not leaving. I know it’s selfish, I hate it too. I hate how I’m doing this to myself. I’m especially having one of those days today, when I feel like doing nothing, but I have to get work done. It’s just hard not to think about him when my work centers around him, like I really can’t get away. 

I just never thought we would run out of time. Isn’t it cruel how we only appreciate time when there’s not much of it left?

I decide to wrap up work early today. I had sat on my desk the whole morning, staring at the screen and realising that words don’t make sense to me, I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, like this stupid editing program suddenly feels like a stranger. If I’m going to do a crap job, I might as well just not do anything. The deadline isn’t until tomorrow. 

My mind is more occupied with things with a shorter deadline, other things I have to solve before I can immerse myself in anything else that requires complete focus, like the strange feeling I got after hearing him break the news. It shouldn’t matter to me, so why does it feel like it does?

I shut down the computer after saving the little work I got done. I need to look after myself, do the things I used to do and enjoyed doing before all this happened and he came and rocked my world and hopefully I’ll get over it, and myself.

Just out of pure curiosity, I want to know how things are going for him. I’m not trying to get my feelings hurt, but it’s only been a few days, nothing too major hasn’t happened yet, right? The buzzing of my phone jerkes me back to reality. It’s Alex!

“Hi!” I balance my phone on my shoulder, as I finished patting my face dry after a very refreshing shower I just had.

I can hear him clear his throat and speak, “hello. I just woke up, I know it’s like, what, 1PM? Holy shit. Anyway, uh… what are you up to?”

I wonder what is the reason for this call, but I’m not going to ask. I’ll happily take as much of his time as he can give me, before he gets busy with moving and his new life.

“Nothing,” I reply truthfully, “I mean—I’ve had kind of a slow day today. I just—I’ll get back to work later, right now I’m just trying to unwind myself, I guess.”

“Oh,” he replies, “something on your mind?” Oh, you have no idea.

I try to laugh it off, hoping he won’t try to dig any deeper, “honestly, the usual. You know, life.”

To my relief, he just laughs in response, “yeah, me, if anyone, would know about that. Like, fuck—tell me about it! I don’t know at this point if I’m fighting demons, or if I’m the demon.”

We both laugh and it’s so nice even for a few seconds to just laugh with him, and I hate even more what is about to happen to us. 

“Yeah, like I don’t know who prayed for my downfall, but it’s working for them.”

He yawns, “see, you get it! I knew you would.” Except that I don’t…

“Anyway—you’re probably wondering, how am I doing, so considerate of you. Being all worried and shit. I am after all just a baby. But I’m doing great! Uh—I’ll be busy as fuck soon, so...,” he trails off. 

I hum. I know what he means by that, that he won’t have much time for me anymore. “Yeah, I understand,” I tell him, trying not to sound too sad nor too happy. Just neutral, like how I wish I could actually feel about it. 

“Yeah, so, it’s a big fuckin’ step, but I still think it’s a step that needs to be taken, content-wise, because, after all I just want to keep getting better and bigger. I mean, there is no such thing as too big. That’s what I tell myself every time I—okay, I’m gonna stop myself right there.”

He laughs at himself and I stand stunned for a while, until the joke hits me and I laugh too. And… it made me feel flustered. He is just something else. That’s why I like him. As a friend!

“What was I saying? I don’t know, but yeah, it’s happening and I’m excited. So many fuckin’ great things happening. I hope the same goes for you.”

I hum again, since I don’t trust my voice right now, “thanks. I hope so too. I’m really excited for you. Don’t miss me too much while you’re gone.” Just one lie after another. 

“I’ll try not to. I think I should be the one saying that. You don’t miss me too much.”

“Wait, who are you again?”

“Okay, fuck you. Bye.”

We both break into laughter again over the ridiculous banter and hang up. Seems like things are going, and will go, well for him.

I put on a very lazy outfit, since I had no plans to go anywhere today.I had too much time on my hands, so I started overthinking again, and for the rest of the day, it was one thought after another. I wish I could see him one last time, why didn’t he ask to? I mean, I know why. Because we’re not close like that. It was a one time thing, won’t happen again. He probably said that he wants to see me again just to avoid disappointing me and hurting my feelings. They will be hurt either way. 

I wonder what Alex is doing right now, 7PM on a Wednesday night. A text pops up on my phone as I'm scrolling online… from him?!

“Hey! I have some spare time tomorrow, you wanna come over? I kinda owe it to you, but I wouldn’t mind you seeing you either. It’s a fucking mess here but I’m sorry I can’t pack neatly.” 7:01 PM

What on Earth? It seems like for some reason we are in each other’s subconsciousness. I asked for this, but now I feel weird that this is happening. I’m getting what I want and I don’t think I will want it again. I reply;

“Sure! Thought you’d never ask.” 7:03 PM

I slept better that night. Who knows why.

.

The next morning I was up before the sun, bright and early. It wasn’t until the afternoon when I had promised to be at Alex’s place, but I couldn’t sleep and lay still anymore. I’m itching for something to happen, something that involves him and getting to see him, possibly for the last time in a long time.

Then later in the day, it was me going downtown again in the same bus, walking over to the same building. The same elevator ride upstairs. The same long hallway. The same door that already looks like coming home. I shouldn’t get so attached anymore. No more crazy thoughts. 

This time I didn’t even wait around, but rang the doorbell as I pulled my earbuds out. Ironically, there’s nothing but petty, angry love songs on the radio today where someone’s leaving and someone gets hurt. I feel like I have nothing to be scared or nervous about right now. If anything, my feelings should be scared of me, because I’m not going to feel anything. Whatever I felt the last time I was here, I’m over it. 

I heard him turning the lock and there he was, opening the door, all smiles. He looks happy. This time, though, I don’t think I’m alone the reason for it. He doesn’t surprisingly look as disheveled or tired as I imagined, either. In fact, he looks like he has been personally touched by an angel. He is, well, glowing, you could say. Every piece of him.

“Hi!” he ushers me inside, not wasting any time.

I march right inside, “you’re happy to leave.”

He rubs his hands together, “c’mon! I’m having the fuckin’ time of my life! Like—I’ve had good news, c’mon on! Cut me some slack!” He’s so excited to go. Wow. 

If I was him, I would feel more bittersweet, perhaps, but people like him just don’t seem to be having a hard time saying goodbye. Maybe people like him aren’t even supposed to stay too long in one place, like the world needs him as much as I do. Good for him, but sucks for me. He then went off, leaving me by myself, like I’m already one with the house and know my way perfectly around.

I followed him to the kitchen, where it was boxes upon boxes. The living room didn’t look any different. The house looks swept, from what I can see so far. His setup is the only thing that looks somewhat the same, but I can tell there’s things missing, already been put away.

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding, like, this is really happening,” I say, mostly to myself.

This place looks weird and dead now that it’s almost empty, like it’s empty of life too. 

“Yeah! What, are you gonna miss me and shit?” he asks me, amused by the thought, “no sad, happy!”

Then he quite literally places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a comforting rub, before taking off again. I don’t know if it made me feel better or worse.

“I—“

“So,—“

We start at the same time, following by us both saying ’sorry’ in sync. Awkward. But hey, that got us to laugh again. Oh, how I just like laughing with him. I think it’s one of my favourite sounds. God forbid, if he could read my thoughts right now.

“I was just going to ask if I ever get to see you cooking in that kitchen, like you promised?” Way to change the subject. 

Alex gasps with his mouth agape, “no fuckin’ way! How the fuck are you one step ahead of me? I made some of it last night, wondered if you wanna have a bite with me? I mean, of course, you fuckin´ do, right?!”

He starts clapping excitedly, before I could say anything. But the answer is going to be yes, nonetheless. A perfect way to waste some time with him.

In the kitchen, I already knew my seat. It’s the same one I sat on the last time I was here. It felt like personally addressed. I reach for the chair at the same time as he turns to pull it out for me as an act of chivalry. It caused us to knock into each other. Not hard enough to cause an accident, but hard enough to make us both feel embarrassed.

We laugh again, more awkward this time. That was probably the worst fake laugh I’ve ever had to do with him. I sit down and watch as he turns his back to me and takes something out of the fridge.

“This,” he announces, “is my secret recipe, fuckin’ incredible, guacamole.” He brings it to the table and goes back to kitchen to fetch us something to enjoy it with, until sitting down with me. He tells me to dig in, while sitting back and taking off his beanie and running his fingers through his hair. God knows why it made my breath hitch.

When I finally make the move to dig in like he told me to, it’s unlucky he made the same choice at the same time. Our hands touch lightly, before we both quietly apologize and pull them apart like they just had been burned. 

“Relax, it’s all yours,” I tease him.

“Fuck you,” he giggles, a smile creeping in, like he’s glad I broke the tension.

The food was honestly pretty good. I hum in enjoyment, “this is good, you were right.”

He laughs, “I told you. Get used to me being right, if you haven’t yet, it’s about time. I mean, I was right about you, too.”

Is he doing this again, getting all mysterious and sentimental about me? And he does it whenever there’s no escape for me from the conversation, too. I wonder what’s really weighing on his heart. 

I ask him instead, “okay, what does that mean? You always do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for my mastermind, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t have something here that made me thought about staying, but, you know, it’s not like I’m leaving for good.”

I was on his mind as something that’s worth staying for? There’s not much left he can give me anymore, we’re running low on things to say or do when there’s so little time left, but he never wanted to leave without telling me that. It’s the one last high, before we flatline. 

“You really think so? That I’m that special? I’m sure whatever you will find next is going to be worth it, though. I’ll be fine.” I can only keep lying to myself for so long. I’ll be a mess.

Alex straightens himself in his seat, like he’s about to say something crucial, “you’re so fuckin’ special, like I don’t know who hurt you so that you always have to question it. Like this is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.”

He’s right. But what he doesn’t know is that it’s him leaving that hurts me. Maybe I’m just insecure, because I know I’m always replaceable. But maybe he doesn’t think so. 

He slyly continues, “whatever it is, whoever they are… they don’t matter now. Don’t think about them, just think about us—or me, you know I would never judge you for how you feel. And I even told you already that you mean a lot to me, so what are you scared of anymore?”

“I—,“ I really don’t know what to say, “I don’t mean to make this about myself, but… I guess I was just excited to spend more time with you and now you won’t be here. And I know it, that I was a chapter in your life, but you have a whole book to write. So I don’t know how much space there is anymore to write about me.”

I know better than get attached to people like him. They have the whole world to impress, I’m just one person.

“Damn, that was some deep shit. I was not fuckin’ ready for that by any means, but fine. Fuck it, let’s take the deep road,” he babbles in his usual way, “it’s not like the next time I see you will be awkward anyway, because, you know… I won’t fuckin’ see you. I’ll be long gone.”

I pretend to gasp at the joke and play along, even though the truth behind it hurts.

“But I agree, it’s been great, but, you know, I’m just a call away. And I always, always have time for you, like I’ve already fuckin’ saved you a seat in my mind, so I never forget to keep you in my thoughts. See? That was pretty good, I can get deep in shit too,” he grins almost child-likely and nudges me as he gets up and goes on his merry way to the kitchen, cleaning up the table. 

He seems like he’ll be fine enough, so I feel dumb to push it anymore. I just nod, even against my own will and avert my gaze. Maybe I should stop acting so ungrateful, I still get to keep my job and it’ll almost like force him to talk to me once in a while. It’s not the end of my world. Maybe.

We talk more, this time with me trying to act reasonable. He seems to like and laugh at everything I say. I try my best too to keep a smile on my face and tell him, “I’m sure it’ll be fine and we both make it. I’ll be here rooting for you, king.”

“Thank you so much, thank you. It really means a lot coming from you. I’m glad you seem to feel better.”

Yeah. Surely, I’ll be fine… I’ll fake it if I can’t make it. As he’s cleaning up, he tells me I can feel at home and get some water from the fridge if I want to. Well, I eventually figured I should make myself useful and walked up to the fridge in unbreakable strides. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

And there comes that weird tension again. I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to try something here. I would never. But he seems more than fine, and definitely not like he’s internally cursing my name, as he is casually standing there next to me, making these ridiculous expressions and sounds in result of a brain freeze, since the water was pretty much ice cold. It made us both laugh and smile like nothing had happened.

What do we do now? Is this it? I thought as I soon announce that I should leave, before anything else can happen. I make quick work on putting my jacket on and tying my shoelaces, reaching for the door just as he does, and there I find myself bumping right into his side again. 

I suddenly feel the urgent need for the floor to swallow me whole, but since that’s not happening, running out the door seems very tempting. I can’t handle another one of these accidents. I’m so embarrassed. Not the kind of ending I imagined for our story, but I guess it’s better than drowning in tears. Maybe I have a chance in surviving losing him, if this is how I feel.

“Sorry for whatever that was,” I apologize again, God knows for how manyth time today.

He just timidly laughs, not as loudly and lively as he usually does, but it was still a laugh, “it’s okay, you know, it takes two to… fuck up, something like that, right?”

I laugh too now, “that’s true.”

Now we are just standing in the doorway, thinking who’s going to be the first to say goodbye. And I didn’t find it in me to just run out and leave without it. To my luck, he breaks the moment of silence, “so, uh…. I wanna tell you that I’ll see you soon, but I’m actually not sure when I’ll be able to do that. So—I know you understand, right?”

I do. I understand what is happening. It’s almost like it’s finally sinking in that this is it. I don’t know what the future holds. Will I see him again? 

“I don’t want to make any promises, but… I’ll see you at last whenever I’m back, whenever that will be. I’ll talk to you about the new work schedule too, when it’s more topical,” he rants. Yep, at least I get to keep my job. 

I just nod sympathetically, “I understand. Good luck with everything, honestly. I’ll see you someday and in the meantime, we can always talk on the phone.” I feel the need to still remind him that just because he’s not here, doesn’t mean I’m not waiting to hear from him every day. 

“Of course,” he smiles genuinely, so wide that it reaches his eyes, which makes me want to take his word for it.

He then pulls me into a lingering hug, which surprised us both, how there was no hesitation this time to be so close to each other. Sure, my time with him has been short-lived, but it has meant something. Every second mattered and in a matter of seconds time will be irrelevant. Oh, how life goes.

He pats my back, which felt both like a curse and a blessing. It felt too nice to not happen again in a long, long time. Why couldn’t I feel this way when there was still time? 

When he next stares at me from under his long lashes with an unreadable expression on his face, like he’s trying hard to memorize something, I make the move to leave before I fall any deeper into the despair.

It takes a second for him to realise it and to follow me, and now he leans against the doorway, as if he needs something else to cling on to now that I’m out of his reach.

“Go on then, little superstar,” I giggle, “I won’t forget you. Which would be impossible, anyway.”

He starts grinning again, and before he can get too ahead of things and himself, I roll my eyes, “I’m trying to be nice here.”

He gets serious and gives me a more gloomy look before turning it into a smile to almost prevent any emotions spilling, “I know, I know, sorry. Me neither. Trust me.” Trust. That’s what I need, to trust him and let the rest roll off my shoulders.

Soon after we say the final farewells and I watch and hear the door click close for the last time and he is out of my sight for also possibly the last time, at least for a long while. Call me selfish, or a bad person, all of it, but there’s no way he’s actually leaving. I don’t want him to. There’s no way after all that sunshine, it’s now raining this hard. When it rains, it really pours.

Quite literally, indeed, because when I stepped out of the building, it was raining. Ironic. I put my hood on and made my way quickly to the bus stop, staring at the black screen of my phone like any second now he’s going to tell me something, something along the lines of like he has changed his mind. I wiped the raindrops off the screen, they reminded me of teardrops. For some strange reason, I don’t feel like crying at all.

I was already cursing the bus, the bus route, the bus stop. Everything here is going to remind me of him. I can never come back here, unless it’s with him. There’s no way I’m in this deep already, but I am. And there’s no bottom or no one to hold me up this time, I’ll just keep sinking. 

.

The next morning, and the next one, and the next one my immediate thought was Alex, not to anyone’s surprise. The thought of his existence didn’t get me so high as it used to do, since he will now exist so far from me. Just when everything started falling into place. I had already let myself forget the day he’s leaving. Was it yesterday or today, or tomorrow? Or maybe it’s better if I don’t know and will let him leave quietly. So quietly, that the sound of it doesn’t make me flinch. 

I figure I can’t just lay down here in my bed the entirety of my existence or Alex being gone, I have to get back to work and back to, well, what life was like before there was him. But what was my life like without him? I’m not sure I can recall it. 

I realise I could do anything I ever want, but I’m stuck here and there’s a void in me that looks like him. I feel like I’m supposed to just sit on my hands, what else would I do? Later that night I throw myself on the bed again, ready to waste time scrolling through my phone, maybe watch some TV.

I open Twitter and wait as it loads new content for me to see. So, what do I do on Twitter? I do follow Alex, and I see that he hasn’t posted anything new. I also do follow people I find interesting, a few friends, people who have the same music taste and interests as me. I haven’t caught up with the timeline since last night.

The further I scroll, the more I see concerning headlines of news. What the hell is this?

“Another COVID-19 lockdown possible, says experts.”

What’s going on? It says just a few states have been put on high alert, the one I’m in is not included, at least for now. We still get to go about our lives here. I feel my heart sink, thinking about going back to square one. I don’t think we as society can take another one of those. I see it before my very eyes how the news are spreading like wildfire. Everyone is talking about it. It’s all I see and I think it’s all I will see even in my sleep tonight. 

I read until the words didn’t make any sense to me anymore, they were just words of confirming what we all fear. They just made me sick. As the night fell on me, I know I wasn’t the only one in the world who laid wide awake that night. What’s going to happen?

So much for summer plans and so much for possibly visiting Alex or him visiting me. Shit. I just realised what this means for us. It’s the state where he went that’s one of the few mentioned to be prepared to shut down. If only he had never left. 

.

I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s now been more than a few days since I had last seen and heard from Alex, too long when he’s all I think about. I want to know more, ask him how he is. I’m also a little worried, like how he had joked I would be, but now I really am. The world is suddenly not ours to take anymore, so I guess I have a valid reason to be. I text him;

“How is everything?” 1:24 PM

A completely harmless, friendly question. It doesn’t give away too much and he can write me back whenever he finds the time to. 

Instead of doing so, he almost right away was calling me. Even a bigger bargain: I get to hear his voice again!

I picked up the phone expecting him to be in a frantic, excited hassle, but he was calm, it was almost too quiet on his end for someone who’s doing as much as he is. Actually, he didn’t seem to be in a rush at all and definitely didn’t sound as excited as he had the other day. I can only assume he’s tired, that’s the only logic that makes some sense.

“Hey,” wow, he does sound worn-out.

“Hey. I bet you’re tired, so you didn’t have to call me. I just wanted to know that… how are things in wherever you are?”

“No, of course I want to talk,” he assures, “I’m—something happened. I’m sure you’ve seen the news. It’s fuckin’ crazy out there.”

It hits me again. The news that feels like the end of the world all over again. I feel for him. Is he now possibly stuck in another state for longer than he anticipates? 

I sigh, “yeah. I was hoping it won’t mess with you too much?”

“I’m just as fuckin’ caught off guard as you, but… I really can’t go. It’s too bad out there where I was supposed to go to that I can’t go, I can’t risk it. And I don’t want to seem like an ignorant asshole and just take off.”

“What?” I stutter, “I mean, it makes sense, but you mean—where are you right now?”

He lets out a little sad laugh, “I’m still here, in this great apartment of mine, in the middle of all these boxes and all of my shit is packed up, all of it. And now I’m not even going. Think about it.”

He is still here? He never even left? Or more like, he didn’t have the time to leave? He continues before I could get a word in, “I mean, fuck it, I still might as well fuckin’ move to the next block in the spite of having to pack and unpack everything.” 

That made us laugh amidst all of the chaos. I feel bad for him, but it’s a funny thought. But, back to the real topic, he is not leaving after all? What is this universe up to? Did I manifest this unfortunate and unexpected turn of events? I’m starting to feel like I did.

“So, stupid question, I know, but how are you? You never got to leave? I thought for sure you were already gone,” I ask, “sorry, this must be so shitty, I can’t even imagine, and you probably don’t want to answer my stupid questions right now.”

“No, no! I do want to talk, more than ever. I was supposed to leave the day after I last saw you and then all of this kind of happened overnight. I don’t know—I’m just thinking about all the things and shit I don’t get to do now.”

He was so excited just for everything to be called off right before the kick off. I pity him. I’m not exactly sure how to comfort him in times like this, how to say the right things. What even are the right things to say? I know I wanted him to stay, but I never wanted it to happen like this, in a way that drains him of all of his contagious joy.

We talked a long while. Or more like, I let him talk and didn’t wait for my turn to talk. I listened with curiosity and empathy, for as long as he needed. I didn’t fill in the silences, just listened. The last thing he says to me on the phone before we hang up, comes as a total surprise, “hey—you wanna come over?”

. 

And so it went, there I was again taking the same bus downtown to him. I never saw this coming. This looks like a film everyone would love to act in, where the one never gets away, but this is real life. I don’t know how to direct it yet, but I will keep looking for the answers for why this is happening and why he keeps always coming back to me, sometimes even against his own will.

Of course I said yes, when he asked me to come over. 

By the time I rode the elevator, I was fuzzy in the head. This was not supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to come here again, not after we said those goodbyes not even a week ago.

I walked up to his door, and as by some instinct, he opened it before I could even knock. I did a double take, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, it’s him, but... he looks great. Happier, for some reason, even when there’s not much to be happy about, or so I thought. I wonder who made him like that. Whoever it is, consider them lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so serene and beautiful like he does in this light. 

“Hi!” he lets me in, “alright, let’s just forget about the fuckin’ dramatic goodbyes that we had and pretend none of that shit happened.”

He then giggles at his own recollections, so did I. How many times you get this lucky when there is no bye in goodbye? I also still don’t know what is keeping the smile on his face right now. If there is sadness in there, he’s not showing it.

“Yeah, this is pretty fucked. Not to make things about me, but I thought I would like never see you again. Like you’re gonna start a whole new life without me.”

He shakes his head, “not this time. And I mean—I still wanna keep you, I’m not just gonna fuckin’ let you go, no matter what happens. You’re stuck with me, pal.”

“Yeah, literally. You couldn’t get too far even if you tried.” I wonder if he will ever make it out of here. Right now, everything feels impossible. None of us will get out anytime soon.

“Yeah, see?” he grins.

I see some of the boxes in his house are still up, some of them opened and unloaded, as if something necessary has been taken out of them. He follows my gaze and laughs nervously, “yeah, I know, it’s a fuckin’ mess here. And—it’s just that all of these news are fuckin’ with my head, you know? You feel it too?”

I nod. It’s not bad at all where we are, but what if it gets bad here? The only rule is that we can’t exit the state, but that’s already enough to mess up people’s plans. Like his. It’s all ruined for him.

We talk about these arising fears as he guides us to the kitchen and motions me to take a seat. I smile at his thoughtfulness and sit down. He sits across from me, bringing some snacks on the table.

As I secretly watch him there in the brief silence that occurs when we chew on the snacks, I feel the same old familiar excitement to see him and to be here with him. Like I want to fight all the odds that prevents keeping me right here forever. He makes me feel excited about life, especially when we have more promised time now. That’s the closest my words will get to the feeling I can’t explain.

And, he looks... great. Brand new. Attractive, even some would say. Not me, of course… I clear my throat, hoping he’s not catching on to me, “so, you called me here, because… you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I just needed to know that… I still have you. Like no matter what shit goes wrong, I’ll always have you here. Especially now, when being alone is the last thing I want. I can’t even see my friends from other states or from home, in case shit gets worse, but you’re always here, right?” he rambles.

I’m still too a bit freaked out that I now have him here, right here where I wanted him all along, I suddenly don’t seem to know or remember what I always wanted to tell him. I think he just beat me to it. I think we really need each other, especially at times like this when loneliness is almost bound to happen.

“Yeah, of course. As selfish as this sounds… I’m glad you’re still here. I don’t think I was ready to say goodbye just yet,” I didn’t know what else to say to his emotional outburst other than answering with the same concerns. If honesty is what he wants and needs to hear, then so be it. 

“I knew it. I knew you’re happy I never left”, he tries to suppress his usual grin and raises a brow challengingly at me, “you need me.”

I roll my eyes, “what? That’s all you decided to take from that?”

We both laugh at the banter, like we always used to do. I’m glad we are able to pick up right where we left off. It’s like nothing ever happened. Even though I think we are getting a little sidetracked here. 

He adjusts himself in the chair and leans back, crossing his arms as if to appear more intimidating, “what can I say? I have a selective hearing, you tell me you need me and I’m fuckin’ all ears, just like that.”

“I—okay. I didn’t say I need you, I’m just happy you’re still here. I know, it’s probably weird for me to say this—“

At this point I felt like I was squirming in my seat under his gaze. Why is he doing this, almost obsessed with the idea of me needing him?

“Hey, no. I’m sorry if I went too far joking about it and making you feel like it’s weird. It’s not. I feel very… fuckin’ happy you think so highly of me.”

We talk more, and I learn that the news of the possible COVID-19 outbreak, even if it’s not happening here, has really messed with him and I understand a little better why he is being like this. No one wants to feel isolated and alone and he seems to be holding onto me now more than ever. I understand him, but it will change us. For worse or for better, nobody knows.

“Anything else before I go?”

“Actually, yeah. I have a few friends pop over in a few days. You should come too,” he tells me like it’s nothing and like he has already made up my mind for me.

“Oh?” I ask with genuine surprise, “are you sure? Do you really thinks it’s a good idea for me to meet them?”

“Of course! I think it’d be fuckin’ awesome! They’ve been in the city for a few days now, they’re not coming from another state, so it’s all good, all safe.“

“Okay.”

He grins happily, “great!”

What am I getting myself into here? I need to think things through when I get home. He walks me to the door not soon after that. I thought to open the door and walk myself out, but he had the same thought to open it for me, causing us to collide with each other again. This is such a deja vu, but I didn’t remember how awkward it exactly is.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll stop being a gentleman right at this fuckin’ second,” he laughs. I laugh too, because as awkward as it is, he makes it funny.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now, before you jump at me again,” I finally make the move to leave. 

“Uh—excuse me!” he yells after me, “it takes two! It takes two, pal!”

I keep backing away until I’m so far from him, that we pretty much have to yell to make ourselves heard in this hallway, before waving him goodbye. I made some quick strides to the elevator, it was waiting for me on the same floor as if to rescue me. What is he doing to me and why is it working? And why do I kind of like it?

.

So, how do I actually feel about Alex inviting me over with his friends there? The thought of it seemed to excite him greatly, but I, on the other hand, am not sure if I can reciprocate his feelings. I do like hanging out with him doing nothing, but when you throw other people in the mix, will it just blow up in our faces? Am I just ruining things to make myself miserable at this point?

I so want to text my friend at times like this, even though I’m highly aware they would force me to go and socialize, but I figure this is something I just have to decide myself and for myself. Some would say this is out of my comfort zone, but what else would I find comfort in if not being around him? How bad could it be there?

My phone makes a sound. There’s really only one person who would have a reason to text me right now. It’s time to make up my mind, I guess.

I was right, it was Alex, 

“Sooo you coming tonight? I hope?” 4:35 PM

Fortunately for him, I don’t think I have it in me to tell him no. Not when he sounds like this, like he needs me. Like it’s up to me to make or break his night. It’s a lot of pressure to be this important to someone like him.

For now, I reply,

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” 4:39 PM

It’s as if he knows me inside out again and that I’m still questioning my choice, because he doesn’t leave it there, but says,

“Awesome, I was already thinking you’d bail on me.” 4:40 PM

That’s awkward. 

“Never.” 4:40 PM

Guess I’m going. 

.

I popped by a liquor store on my way to his before I hopped on the bus. I’m not usually the one to drink, especially on the first meeting, but I think I need some liquid courage, because I will decay before I can meet those new people if I think about it too hard. Have I already made it obvious that I’m a nervous wreck? It’s already an accident scene in my mind. When I finally arrive at his door, I could already hear the voices of many that I’m not familiar with. It’s still not too late to back out, but I won’t. I didn’t come this far just to come this far.

I knock on the door, and then it opens, revealing Alex behind it, smiling at me radiantly as ever. The smile that I think makes this all worth it. 

He seems to be already having fun with his friends, so it’s still unclear to me why he wanted me here to shuffle the pack. I put on a happy face and my best foot forward, greeting him with the same enthusiasm. Faking it until I make it.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” he was grinning, like he was proud to have lured me here.

“Of course! Always up for a challenge.”

“Hey, everyone’s gonna like you, as much as I do. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” he pouts. 

I wonder what caused him to say that. What is suddenly so likeable about me and how can he sound so sure of everything?

I step in the living room and see three other people that are still strangers to me. So that’s not too bad, I can tackle three. And perhaps Alex was right, if he invited me here it must mean there’s something he sees in me that everyone else will too. It was when I found my seat that they started talking and then it was my job to keep up.

“Hi! I’m Karl!” a brunette opposite me spoke and gave me a little wave. 

“Punz,” the person next to him raised his hand as a greeting and popped snacks into his mouth.

“Oh! I’m Foolish!” the last person speaks and laughs lightly.

I wonder what happens next and how much they already know, or more like, what has Alex told them about me. Well, I was nevertheless about to tell them something that I hoped to be interesting enough, but got cut off by Punz as he waves me off and gestures to bottles on the table, “oh, we know who you are. Here, have one—oh, you brought your own drinks, nice.”

Oh, now I really am curious what have they heard from Alex. If it’s anything like what he told me at the door, I have a lot of expectations to meet. I’m totally cool about it, as cool as the drink I crack open and take a sip of. Bless them for initiating small talk while we wait for something to happen, since we are still the guests here.

Speaking of Alex, where the hell did he go? I haven’t seen him ever since he let me in and told me I don’t have to worry about a thing. Well, now I am worrying a bit, am I the only one who feels bothered by his absence? 

“Yo, where the hell did he go?” Karl asks everyone at the table.

So, it seems I’m not.

We all look around ourselves but he was nowhere to be seen. As if he planned this all along, leaving me alone with his friends so we have no other choice but to gather around and talk to each other. It would have happened even without his shenanigans, so I don’t understand why this was necessary, if that is the case.

We couldn’t help, but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Karl hid his smile with his sleeves and slapped the armrest, “he really said hi and bye. Can you believe him?”

He shakes his head disapprovingly. Punz seems fixated on the snacks he is still eating, good for him. Foolish was laughing too, like this was the main entertainment. I feel anything but entertained, I forgot to expect the unexpected whenever I am with Alex. You never know with him. I just sat there and drank my drink.

“So, what do you guys wanna do? Since it’s just us,” Foolish asks and wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees, balancing the neck of a bottle on his fingertips.

I don’t want them to change their plans for me or to stop doing what they were doing before I got here, but obviously, true to my nature, I don’t dare to tell them that. My head is playing tricks on me, making me think there’s still a reason to keep my guard up and shy away.

Karl looks like he’s going to say something, like a brilliant idea washed over him, but then just asks me, “you two seem like you’re pretty close. Are you?” 

My jaw slacks open in surprise. I assume he’s talking about me and Alex. What do I even say to that? 

“Yeah, I think so—“

“Really? What do you like about him?” Karl bombards me with more questions, “ahem, as friends, of course.”

What is this about? What are my answers being used for? 

I’m confused, but answer, “uh—everything?”

I don’t really know what to say and I acknowledge that Alex could come back any second and I don’t exactly want to be caught talking like this. 

Karl tucks his lips into a tight-lipped smile, “well, if that ain’t the cutest thing. I asked him the same thing and he told me pretty much the same about you. Do whatever you want with that information.”

It’s now my turn to ask him, “really?”

He said that?

Karl just smiles again and yells out to Alex, wherever he is, “in case you forgot, you still have guests over and we would like to do something here, with or without you!”

Okay, so that conversation is over and I’m left drawing the conclusions and connecting the dots myself. It looks like a messy map of undecided feelings and missing truths. Did he really mean it, and if, why?

We all dissolve into laughter when Alex finally comes out of hiding and yells, “okay, asshole! Some of us has to look good tonight.”

Not too much had changed about him that would explain why he was gone for so long. Well, he had changed his outfit and from what I can tell, maybe fluffed his hair a bit, but I don’t see why that is necessary. He can do whatever he wants in his house, I guess. Not that I mind what he looks like, I myself am very casual and so are the other guests.

“So,” he claps his hands together and sits down next to me, not taking his eyes off me, “you okay?” 

I nod. He has no reason to worry about me so much, but I appreciate his heartfelt care. It’s a two-way street, I acknowledge I would do the same. It causes a grin to break out on his face, “great! So, should we play something? Jackbox?”

We did that. I was sitting there on the couch, with my legs pulled up to my chest, curling away, watching the game play on, downing my drink. 

Somewhere along the night, he was resting his arm on the back of my seat. I didn’t think much of it, until I felt his fingers toy with my hair. Does he even realise he’s doing it? I let it go and let him do his thing. It’s new for the both of us, a touch that’s so gentle and light as a feather it’s almost make-believe, but it feels nice and real. It’s making me want to stay here longer.

The game went on, we didn’t get through a round without laughter and genuine fun. I don’t know what happened to me about halfway through the night, I drank like never before. It occurred to me that it’s a receipt for disaster, but I’m way past thinking straight anymore. We just had a bit too much fun, or I did. Like I said, I never take things this far, but the rules slipped my mind tonight.

Foolish stretches with a strained cry and we all contagiously yawn as we wrap up the game for the night.

Alex mumbles next to me, “did you guys know there’s a fuckin’ fancy pool downstairs? I think it’s closed now and probably has restrictions and shit anyway—”

“Why tell us about it then?” Punz asks.

Karl was giggling again, “and who asked? We get it, you’re rich and we can’t go there—”

“No!” Alex defended his case, “I just—that would’ve been cool.”

It would’ve. I’d like to see the pool. Maybe someday. 

Karl hums, “hm, did you want to look at the stars with me and kiss me under the moonlight?”

We all laugh again and watch Alex throw a cushion at him.

Everyone soon scattered around the house to take bathroom breaks and such. As I attempt to hoist myself up, I definitely feel more drunk than I had intended to be tonight. I give up and sit back and hug my knees again, hoping this will pass. Alex gets up too to clean up the empty bottles on the table and floor. I’m scared I’m going to make a mess that won’t be so easy to clean up. 

I’m mentally cursing everything and myself, mostly myself for crossing the line, and how awkward it is sitting here alone. I want to get up and make things better, but before I know what is happening, I find myself falling to the ground. There’s no way to really say how I feel other than that I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round that doesn’t stop for anyone. It’s making my stomach churn and head spin. Everything is spinning, until I crash and hit the ground, or whatever I fell onto.

I’m listening but don’t hear anything, thinking it’s the alcohol messing with my head, until I realise there’s no sound. It’s a pin-drop silence. We’re almost frozen in time, right in this moment.

Alex finally fills the silence and speaks to me, holding onto me, “are you okay? Should I—tell me what can I do for you?”

Did he…. catch me? I mean, he must have, because I’m not shattered on the floor right now, but instead it was a very delicate fall. It didn’t even feel like falling, but the proof that I did is right there when I open my eyes that brings me a distorted vision of the floor.

“It’s probably just the alcohol, you know. We should get them water,” I hear someone else speak for me.

I then hear sounds from the kitchen, until it’s silent again, anticipating. 

“Here,” Alex advised me, “drink this.”

I felt a glass tilted against my lips and gulped down some water, and prayed this will all pass. This is such a nightmare, and I don’t even know who’s the villain here. I didn’t even drink that much, or did I?

Alex shakes me a little to get my focus, “do you feel sick? Just nod or shake your head.”

He kneels by my side and lays a warm hand on my shoulder, rocking me a little. That’s one thing I’m painfully aware of right now, how close we are. I hesitate to let him get any closer to me, in case this turns into an awkward memory. I mean, it’s already embarrassing enough as it is, I just don’t need him to touch me in ways he will later regret. 

He seems to notice my upset state and lifts my head to rest on his knees for a little comfort and holds me a little closer. This way, I can feel his every move, almost even every breath he takes. It oddly helps me, trying to synchronise our breathing, reminding myself that I can live through this.

I shake my head weakly, too weak to speak. Thankfully, he understands. I can see it in his terror-stricken eyes. Is he scared for? 

“So, that’s a no. Would it be okay to move you onto the couch?”

I nod, giving him the green light. I’m still here, pathetically lying on the floor like a wounded animal and no one knows what’s the right thing to do.

Alex nods back at me, “okay. Is this a stupid question if I ask if you can stand up? Even just for a few s—”

“Oh my God,” Punz groans, “yeah, no offence at all, but that’s a stupid question. I mean, look at them.”

Yeah, look at me... I know there’s no judgment there behind his words, it sounds almost pitiful, the way he talks about me. He sounds like someone who wants the best for me. 

“Okay,” Alex panics, “sorry. Is it—do you want me to carry you?”

Like he’s asking permission from me before daring to move me or touch me in a new way. I’m not in a good headspace to think, but that was kind of adorable of him. I nod, before I feel overtaken by nausea again. I can feel it in my guts, literally. 

I can make out Alex again hovering somewhere over me as he witnesses the colour draining from my face and my eyes drooping, like there’s something I’m trying to fight against. He seems to get the hint when I gesture him that I don’t feel good and then there’s four voices again frantically talking over each other about what to do with me.

“Are you—okay, okay. Should we go to the bathroom?!” Alex’s freaking out. Poor him.

Meanwhile I think I officially have the worst taste in making decisions. I’m in last place in learning lessons. This should have never happened. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I know better. 

“Yes!” Punz steps in, “take them!”

Those are the last words I can hear before I feel like silently I’m blacking out and spiralling into darkness.

. 

The next time I gain some sort of consciousness is when someone is talking and gently caressing me. I’m on the floor again, and that floor is cold, which feels nice on my hot skin. I don’t know where I am now, or who is with me, but my head is too heavy to ask myself those questions. I want to lay here for a second and just catch my breath, before I catch myself triggering another wave of nausea.

I feel someone leave my side for a minute, before they come back and drape something warm over me, as I lie still, too sick to utter a word. And so there were no further words spoken, until they squeeze me tight and whisper, “are you okay? Please, for the love of fuckin’ everything, tell me you’re okay.”

Assuming they are talking to me, I nod. I’m getting there, I’m going to be fine. I think.

“Oh, thank God,” they whisper back, keeping their voice low, “tell me if you need anything and I’ll deal with it.”

I really need my bed. No more words are needed when they say everything with their touch, rubbing their fingers comfortingly against my skin where they are holding my arm. I take a sharp breath as I feel my stomach twist and turn again very unpleasantly and pray they don’t hear it, but they do.

“It’s okay,” they murmur quietly again, “is it okay that I’m here with you?”

I nod again. 

I lost all track of time and place as I laid there in the silence. The silence seemed to be fulfilling enough for the person with me too, like keeping me company was the main reason they are here. By the way, I have no idea how long me and they have been here, wherever we are, but they never rush me. It never happens, no matter how many minutes of this night we are wasting.

Then it comes to the point of intoxication when I feel very swept up in emotions, like I had burned like a birthday candle that burns for joy, but now I’m burning out. I don’t even flinch when tears prickle my eyes and I start sniffling, as dramatic as it is. I really try to contain it, but my body doesn’t listen and wants to stir the pot and make me more of a mess. So I have no fight in me.

The person next to me doesn’t seem to mind as they lean down to fully capture me, their body radiating warmth against mine and hands urgently pressing wherever they could and stroking my back. Still no words said, but letting the actions speak. I know it’s not the right time or place for this, but when’s the last time someone has held me like this or would love this version of me? They keep me there tightly in place, tucked against their chest, giving my frame a few easing squeezes to tell me to take my time. 

When they pull away, I whine in the loss of comfort they once brought. 

“One more hug?” they ask me. As soon as I nod, we are back to cuddling there on the floor. It must not be so comfortable for them, but they put up with it, for me.

I’m startled to the core when I hear a door opening to the room we’re in, and a voice, “the car’s here. Ready whenever you are.”

That sounds a lot like one of Alex’s friends I met tonight.

The someone who’s still lying by my side tells them, “okay, great. Uh—we’ll be right out, okay?”

That sounds a lot like Alex. 

Wait, so I’m still at Alex’s place, in his bathroom, and everyone is still here? I’m embarrassed. Cheers to the night I wish to forget. The only memory I wish to revisit tomorrow is Alex and his tendency to closely watch over me. He did more than what was enough and showed me something about him I haven’t seen before. I like the new highs he took me to, but I’m not going to like the come-down tomorrow.

I jolt somewhat awake when I’m being helped to stand up and then walked downstairs and put in the awaiting car. This ride is not going to be nice with an upset stomach like mine. I don’t have to worry about that for too long though, when I close my eyes and then I’m out like lights.

.

I wake up to sunlight peaking through the window, shining on my face. I don’t know anything, but I do know that I feel like hell, at least emotionally. My mouth is dry as ever and my body feels icky. It’s uncomfortable to a point, that I wish I could step out of my current skin and put on a clean, nice one that doesn’t hurt. I’m happy to make the observation that I’m in my bed and that I made it home last night, or, well, I must have made the absolute walk of shame home last night.

I don’t know how long I have laid here like the dead, it doesn’t feel that long at all since I was sick at Alex’s. Speaking of him, how will I ever speak to him again without wanting to die of embarrassment? I didn’t have much time to think about it, when my thoughts were diverted to something else; I’m wearing more clothes than I did when I left. I’m talking about the soft hoodie I still have draped over me, Alex’s hoodie that he lent me for comfort. Awkward. It’s so bad I wonder if it will ever get good again.

I’m scared to check my phone, I really don’t want to know or see anything right now that would make me feel worse, but I still check it. The time on the screen tells me that it’s 11:45 AM and that my friend had texted me not so long ago;

“Come to my place today! We’re having a partyyyy. I know you love those ;)” 11:34 AM

Right, it’s Saturday, of course they are having one. When it comes to this party and my invitation, I can’t even look at alcohol right now, not after the night I had. It’s the last thing I need to expose myself to and it’s almost inevitable.

No text from Alex, nothing. A part of me wishes to see him, to apologize and give back his hoodie, but I don’t know what he thinks of me anymore. I know it would be better to make the big step forward and own up to it, but I was so out of line last night that I’m honestly terrified to talk to him right now. He probably resents me. I do too, it’s almost inspiring. I might be weak and unstable, but at least I’m trying. He and what we have, it means too much to let it fall apart.

I went back to bed and texted my friend back, telling them about last night. Not all of it, but enough for them to know I feel vulnerable and psychically I’m not doing much better.

While I lay there in the silence I created, I let the memories from last night creep back, or the ones I can remember. The tender touches from him, the whispers that were all for me. The hold he had of me, like I was the only thing he wanted to touch. I have forgotten to miss his touch already when there’s still a mess I have yet to clean up and this time he won’t help me. He hadn’t signed up for taking care of me, but he still did and followed through like it was a contract. God, how will I ever make it up to him? 

So, tonight’s party. I think I feel fine enough to go as long as I stay away from the drinks, stay there for an hour or two just to say hello to my friend, and then come straight back home and continue rotting in bed. It’s settled then.

I take a long, refreshing shower which soothes some part of me, but I still have this shame that doesn’t come off in the wash. That’s not how life works, unfortunately.

As I’m picking out an outfit, my phone pings to notify me of a text from Alex. Shit. I’m terrified to see what he has to say, but I know I have to take on my biggest enemy right now; the consequences of my actions. I don’t want to leave him hanging right now, so I read it immediately. 

“Are you okay???” 1:34 PM

That’s all his text says.

Well, I have this shame in me that’s eating me alive, but other than that, I feel okay, I guess. This is why I sometimes hate texting, not being able to read people. I can’t tell if he’s mad or worried, or somewhere in between, and I don’t know how I deserve to be perceived right now.

“I’m okay, but so embarrassed I’m not even sure I can talk right now, but I know we need to.” 1:36 PM

He must’ve been waiting to hear from me, because it didn’t take him long to respond;

“No, it’s fine. Seriously don’t worry. I’m just glad you’re okay. It was an honour to take care of you ;)” 1:36 PM

Why would he say that? I can’t remember what I have done and am not sure if I want to know. And when it comes to him reassuring me this is fine, I want to tell him it’s not and that he has every right to be frustrated, but I don’t exactly want to go against what he is saying to me and argue. How will I win if I don’t want to fight?

“Stop, this is so embarrassing. Can’t wait to never be invited again.” 1:37 PM

I fairly wouldn’t be shocked if last night was my last night at his place. His lack of irritation and ability to brush things off has so far been surprising. I wonder if he really is okay and what is he doing today. Is he thinking about me, us, and what to do with me? He is not going to fire me over this, is he?

He replied shortly;

“Can’t wait to invite you again ;) What are you doing today?” 1:39 PM

Just like that, he read my mind. 

“I’m actually going to a friend’s place, there’s a party BUT I am NOT drinking! Just wanna say hi and then bounce. Believe me, alcohol is the last thing I want right now. What are you doing?” 1:41 PM

I feel stupid now that I said it out loud, that I’m attending another party after last night. He must think I’m insane, if he already doesn’t. 

My phone pings again to alert another text from him;

“Oh nice, don’t drink, I’m not there to save you ;) Doing nothing.” 1:44 PM

I’m just going to ignore those winky faces he keeps sending me and how they make me feel. Just when I thought things couldn’t get more weird between us, they do. I type;

“This is as embarrassing for me as it gets, but I still have your hoodie. Tell me when to return it!” 1:46 PM

“Oh, it’s no problem. Think you need it more than me ;)” 1:47 PM

He is acting like he’s the one out of his mind right now. Did we both get up on the wrong side of the world this morning and fell into some alternate universe where nothing feels real or makes sense? 

I don’t know what came over me next when I typed before I could think;

“You wanna come with me to the party? I think we really need to talk.” 1:50 PM

I was terrified to check my phone when it had been a few minutes, and even more when I saw no reply from him. Why did I have to go and do that? Haven’t I been enough trouble for him already? I really need to think more and do less. Or, even better, I could have at least waited until Monday, when he’s going to text me anyway about work and the schedule for the week. It’s really not easy being me right now when I can’t stop screwing up and upsetting people, it seems like.

Next time I checked, he actually had replied;

“Needy smh, but what wouldn’t I do to see you ;) Tell me where and when.” 2:01 PM

He just said yes, as in I will see him very, very soon? This was an unexpected turn of events and I don’t know if we are heading for a dead-end here. I haven’t been this scared in a long time. This is what I wanted, but I think I underestimated myself.

I also made sure to text my friend and keep them in the loop, telling them I will be bringing him with me. I’m only doing this because I will not let him settle for anything less than a proper sorry. But sorry is just a word and not so simple, so what he decides to do with my apology, it’s up to him.

.

I got to the party before Alex did, which was lucky, because it meant I could have some time with my friend before he arrives. I know it’s not all fun and games when he gets here since we still need to talk about… well, last night and I’m not sure what kind of a conversation that will be. It if  doesn’t kill me, it probably will make me wish it had. Will we work or hurt?

I soon spot my friend in the crowded living room that had been turned into a dance floor for the night. The reek of alcohol and the sight of it is enough to make my stomach turn. I’m never drinking again. I push myself through the crowd and tap my friend on the shoulder. They turn around, their eyes lighting up as they see me there.

“Do you want—right, you’re not drinking tonight!” they yell over the music.

I shook my head, “no way. I’ll be just hanging in the kitchen probably, you know, serving you drunks.”

“That’s fine! And hey! What were you last night then?!”

“An idiot.”

They shoot me a sympathetic look and nod again, changing the subject like the good friend they are. We catch up some more, before I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I know it before even checking that it’s Alex texting me, telling me he’s finally here.

“I’m going to find him now!”

My friend just dramatically grins and sends me on my way, “hurry up! Don’t let him get away!”

I make my way back outside, and once I get there I inhale the fresh air that doesn’t stink of alcohol, which washes off all that nausea. My gaze immediately fall on Alex as he stands there cooly, with his hands in his pockets. He really came here for me, or at least that’s what I want to think, but I’m afraid he’s not here to see me just to see me, but for something else.

I forget for a second that I’m supposed to feel ashamed when his face holds a mysterious grin that makes it hard to believe there has even been anything troubling him, “hi! Good to see you standing, literally.”

Okay, so maybe there’s a chance he will try forgiving me and maybe forget.

I gladly accept his hug, letting him pull me to his chest, feelinghisthumb softly rubbing my back as he holds me in place, “shut up, but I am too, but shut up.”

He laughs lightly, music to my ears, “you’re a fuckin champ, though, because—how the fuck are you even standing after that? I thought I was going to have to carry you to the hospital.”

Ashamed isn’t actually even the word for how I feel, it’s deep regret for what I put him through. If there’s any part of him that is mad at me, he is suppressing it very well, so well that I’m not sure he is letting me see it. 

“I don’t know, but even thinking of alcohol makes me sick right now, so I think I’ll be hanging in the kitchen, playing the bartender.”

Alex grins at me widely again, his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, before he admits, “it’s a shame, truly, that our time together was so limited. We didn’t even get to the good part.”

“Which was?”

“I don’t know, like we could’ve snuck to the pool. That would’ve been fuckin’ sick—sorry, I do apologize for my choice of words right there,” he shrugs, emphasising the word ‘sick’.

“Shut up or I’ll be sick on you the next time, whatever, goodbye,” I turn on my heel and walk inside, pretending to be annoyed and it didn’t take long that I heard him on my tail, following me inside.

“Next time?” he asks behind me, tickling my sides, “there will be a next time?”

I don’t need to look at him to know his eyebrows are quirked and that he’s wearing that stupid smirk again. It’s truly his favourite accessory whenever he’s around me, especially today when he has something new to tease me about. My head is hanging down as I’m trying to hide the smile creeping across my face from everyone passing by. They would never understand, when I can hardly understand how he makes me feel.

I kind of did take on a role of the bartender in the kitchen. You know, serving everyone who swings by whatever drinks they are looking for. Alex grabbed a seat and came to sit right by me, like I’m the only interesting thing here, or in the whole wide world.

“Sorry I forgot to bring your hoodie,” I blurt out. Better to get on with these apologies, there’s a long list to go.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, those eyes that held such care for me last night, “listen, that’s—it’s yours now. If you’re gonna give it back to me, I’m just gonna give it to you, you know that?”

Because friends totally keep each other’s clothes, right?

It’s like he could tell there was a lot on my mind as if he wanted to do something about it, “listen. Stop apologising or thinking you did something wrong last night and shit. I mean, I didn’t think either that you would find yourself in my arms, literally, but shit happens. Just let it go.”

“You know I was only there in your arms, because I quite literally passed out?”

“Yeah, sure,” he just grinned at me, like he wanted to believe that’s the real truth, “you seemed more awake when we… hugged and shit. Cuddled, even. It’s all good, I liked it too.”

I groan and cover my ears. So embarrassing.

I serve a few drinks to people, not exchanging a word or even a look with anyone else other than Alex. He is what matters.

“Wait, you have Snapchat? You should add me,” he leans back in his seat like he’s here for the long haul, already pulling out his phone.

“Ugh, really? You’re one of those guys?” I hate that stuff, I don’t really see the appeal and I don’t know if it would make any difference to what we do now, but for him, sure, I guess?

“Hey!” he straightens up looking up at me, extending his hand for my phone, “it’s a great fuckin’ app, okay? You just boom, boom, pow, and everyone knows what you’re doing.”

I give it to him without further complaints, expect for, “I don’t need everyone to know what I’m doing.”

“No, no. Just me,” he smiles smugly, softly brushing his hand against mine. I don’t know he meant to do it, but if not, then he’s real damn good at pretending and these happy accidents. 

While I was handing out drinks, he is doing God knows what on my phone. There’s not a single word exchanged when he seems to look interested in whatever he’s finding there and I’m not bothered to intervene, just enjoying his company in all its forms, until he talks again, “yo, what the fuck is this? This don’t even look like you.”

He flashes my Bitmoji on the screen, just enough for me to get a glimpse of it. Yeah, I know, I really don’t care about that stuff or if it looks like me. I have never felt bothered to change it or customize it, so sue me.

“Oh, really?” I challenge him.

“Yeah, I could make that amazing, like—you’ll see. You’ve never looked better.”

Before he could get any more heated over this dumb debate, I agree and let him work his magic on my phone again. Meanwhile I try to steal glances at him of sitting with his head low, leaning on his knees. He’s so chill it almost gives me chills. I can’t believe we made it through what happened last night, or did we?

I let him mess with my phone while dealing with more drunk people looking for more drinks. I gave them what they wanted. Ugh, they’re gonna feel like hell tomorrow. After last night, I can’t look at drunk people the same way, sorry.

“There,” he slams the phone back on my hand.

I raise it up to my eyes, “what the hell?”

He had made me look absolutely ridiculous and freaky. This, if anything, does not look like me. Well, as long as he has fun.

“Thanks for making sure no one will ever talk to me again,” I tuck my phone deep in my pocket.

“They shouldn’t, you’re right. I think I should be the only one,” he lays his eyes on me again, raising his eyebrows challengingly and crossing his arms across his chest.

For an hour, he sat there with me, like the time had stopped for us and there was no hurry to be anywhere else. I understood a little bit better why many feel drawn to Alex, and how it’s his commentary on things that is rather entertaining. I just want to hear him talk and joke more. I noticed he had rolled his sleeves up at one point and now his other sleeve had fallen down due to his dramatic hand gestures. It was kind of adorable.

“I’m definitely not drinking ever again. I’m so glad I’m not one of these people here, they will feel like hell tomorrow,” I tell him after watching another drunken person stumble out of the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone again.

He suddenly seems concerned, a total shift in his mood, “are you sure you’re okay? Did you even throw up last night? Like, you know, you need to get that shit out of your system.”

I bury my head in my hands, “I don’t know, I don’t remember anything after I was put in that car. What was up with that though? Who drove me home? Whoever it was, I just want to tell them that I’m sorry for being such an idiot.”

He hurries to my comfort, “it’s okay! You don’t remember? I got my friend to pick us up, he drove you home and then drove me back to the house.”

“You were there, in the car? Why?” I was surprised. He didn’t have anywhere to go, since he was already home, so why would he be there?

“Holy shit, you really don’t remember a thing,” he tries to contain his laughter, “of course I had to be there with you, I mean, not to spark some memories, but you were quite literally all over the place and I feel like it was my duty to get you home, so I came along, which by the way turned out to be the right thing to do, since you kept passing out and leaning on me.”

I did? And he was there for me the whole car ride? Ignorance is bliss, but I wonder what made him do it. Was it his head or heart that made that decision? Is he hiding something to be considerate of me or is there something he is not telling me? I would do the same for him, though, but I’ll never tell him that, since we all have something to hide here.

“Oh God,” I groan in shame, “yeah, I don’t remember how I got home from the car, but I don’t think I want to even know. I know it will be embarrassing as hell.”

He seals his lips with his pointer finger, “okay, okay. I’m not telling you, unless you absolutely demand me to, but let’s just say that you were clinging on to me when I was walking you to the door like—”

“Stop!” I cover my face with my hands. This is so bad for me. I will never, ever hear the end of this. 

Well, that was until our night came to an end when he told me he has to get going, since he had promised to stream later tonight. Safe to say I was disappointed, but duty calls for all of us sometimes and I can’t do anything to stop it. 

I didn’t let him leave until I told him, “I can’t wait for the day when this will all be forgotten and we can go back to normal. I am so, so embarrassed.”

“You’re asking me to forget how it felt to have you all over me? You’re driving a hard bargain, I’m not sure I can do that,” he grins mischievously and reaches for my arms as I walk him to the door. This is hopeless, he is being impossible. Impossibly… flirty?

Hhe closes the distance between us to capture me in a quick embrace, wishing me a safe rest of the night, and then he is gone, vanishing into the night too soon for my liking like a figment of my imagination. For a second I really think if this is all just a really good book that we live in. He’s too good to be true sometimes and that’s what scares me. I think it’s safe to say I am free to move on from last night and that we are in the clear. 

I had to really comb the whole living room in the hope of finding my friend, to tell them I’m out of here for good. Now that Alex’s gone, I feel like this place is dead and I have already overtimed my stay. I made my way through the dancing bodies, bumping into a few.

“Hey, who are you? Where did a beautiful thing like you come from?” says someone behind me. I know they’re talking to me, because I can feel them trying to grab my arm to slow me down. Not to my surprise, when I make them the favour of turning around, I see a guy I have never seen before. He wasn’t too drunk to function or to know what he’s doing, but definitely has more than a few drinks down.

“Uh…” I stutter, “I was just about to leave.”

He groans, “nooo, c’mon, stay! I’ll get you a drink if you stay and—”

“I don’t drink tonight, actually. I still have a killer hangover from last night, so I just came to say hello to a friend here,” I tell him firmly before he can finish that sentence. I don’t need to hear it, because my mind can’t be changed. 

He seems taken aback and puts some space between us like someone will charge at him if he gets one more move wrong, “okay, I hear you, I respect that.”

Thank God. I smile in hopes that he lets me go on my merry way, until he tugs on me again, “hey, you’re not interested at all? Like, can I get your number at least? I swear I’m not a creep, but you’re really, really beautiful, and I’d like to know you. That’s all.”

He raises his hands up in surrender as to prove his innocence to me and I internally want to roll my eyes. I thought he might have been cool and all and and then he raises a red flag. Nothing good ever starts with what he said, ‘I’m not a creep, but…’. He seems harmless, even a little nervous to be talking to me, which almost makes me feel flattered. Almost. He is innocent until proven guilty. Hope it’s not a dead-end case.

Before I can pick him apart any more in my head, I agree to his deal and he seems to notably cheer up, “awesome. Thanks for giving a guy like me a chance, it’s not every day I get this lucky.”

Save those compliments for the date, I’ve already said yes, I thought. That said ‘date’ though, all I’m saying is that I won’t be mad if it never happens. I’m not particularly excited to possibly see him again, but I rather take the risk than the regret of what could’ve been.

I just smile again when we quickly exchange numbers, and then I leave. It’s unlucky I can’t see my friend anywhere, so I just text them on my way out that I’m leaving. They wish me good night. I

.

Ever since that weekend, I felt the universe shift again for me. I know I say that a lot, but something really changed between me and Alex, like someone had wiped our slates clean and tied our souls together into a pretty bow. Or maybe it was because of that damned Snapchat, he definitely has used it to his advantage and sent me stuff all day and night, telling me where he’s going or what’s he doing, like he wants me to know his every move. Whatever it is that we’re doing, I kind of don’t want it to stop. I want to hear more from him, see more of him, and if this helps the case, then so be it. I want to give this my best.

Work has been okay, actually more than okay, now that I finally know him the way I have wanted. Sometimes he calls me while I’m working and we go over some bits together and laugh about them, or he tells me about the game he has been playing lately and I try hard not to get distracted. If I’m having a tough day, he always manages to put me back together. It was not so long ago when I still felt like walking on eggshells around him, like I was desperately just trying hard to make a good impression on him, but now we ask all the deep questions and keep each other up all night talking about anything and everything. It’s weird how fast things have fallen into place with him.

Just like today, when I finished work and was almost expecting him to blow up my phone again for no particular reason. I actually can’t wait to hear from him. My phone did eventually ping to alert a text, but my smile fell when I saw it wasn’t a text from him, but from a number I don’t recognise nor have saved;

“Hey. Still up for that date, I hope? How about tomorrow?” 5:32 PM

A date? With who?

“I’m so sorry, who is this?” 5:34 PM

“It’s me from the party! You didn’t drink back then, but I wondered if you’d like to go out, I mean you did say yes after all. Unless something came up?” 5:35 PM

Oh, it’s him, from my friend’s house party. Tomorrow is Saturday after all, if it happens it will happen tomorrow. I don’t know if I exactly feel like wasting a perfectly good Saturday night on him when there’s endless potential for it, but I guess one date won’t hurt, so I tell him;

“Oh sure, tomorrow is fine. Text me the time and place?” 5:38 PM

“Great, there’s this restaurant I think you’d like, I’ll text you the address. How about at 7PM?” 5:39 PM

How does he think he knows me already? I’m just going to go along and hope for the best, whatever the best here is. 

“Sounds good to me!” 5:40 PM

.

It was 6.15 PM when I left the house the next day for this so-called-date. He had kindly offered to pick me up, but I told him I’d rather meet him there. 

The restaurant looked promising, at least on the outside. I don’t even remember the last time I went out to eat, now that I think of it. I definitely didn’t in a million years think my next time would be with someone I barely know, an actual date. He didn’t seem to care too much about the finer things, so I’m surprised this is the kind of place he decided to choose for us tonight, but I appreciate the effort. I’m lucky if I even remember what he looks like and if we find each other in this parking lot. 

I was there, leaning against the wall and looking around, until I saw a silhouette of someone I think I recognise getting out of a car. I’m pretty sure it’s him and he confirmed my suspicion by smiling at the sight of me and waving, making his way over.

“Hello there,” he greeted me politely, “let’s get inside and see what this place is all about, shall we?”

I nodded and let him lead the way. How bad could this be?

It was a few steps to the door that opened up a bustling, dim space for our eyes. I could barely make out what he was telling me, but I figured it was something about finding our table. I just nodded and went along with him as we walked further inside.

“How did we, or you, manage to get this table tonight?” I asked him when he found an empty booth and we made ourselves comfortable in it. I mean, this place is packed and if I saw correctly, there was a small queue outside that we were able to just waltz past.

“Well,” he blushed a little under the yellow light, coming from the lamp hanging above our table “I booked this for us on the same night when you gave me your number. I’m sorry—I probably went ahead of things a little, but I couldn’t let this opportunity go.”

“Oh, that’s fine.”

At least he’s honest.

“Okay,” he smiled at me as if relieved, “good.”

A waitress came by to get our drink orders first. I decided to settle for one glass, he did too, and then we fell into small talk.

“So, what is it about you? Why are you ‘you’?” he questioned me.

Well, that’s one way to ask for my story.

I cleared my throat and thought about how much do I exactly want to share, before telling him about my studies. That’s always a good place to start, right? He kept nodding while listening to me, occasionally letting out approving sounds. Not that his opinion on what I should do or should’ve done matters too much. I asked him the same question in return, and that’s when he went into great detail about his life. Wow, I would’ve never guessed he’s so... educated and wealthy. A guy like him just doesn’t look like someone that walks around with such riches and glories like it’s nothing. Guess I could have not been more wrong about him.

If Alex was here, he would definitely crack more jokes and never make me feel less than I am—stop! Why am I thinking of him right now?

He kept rambling, not stopping even for a second when our drinks and food got placed down in front of us and we dug in, “I don’t want to brag, but I could change your life too if you gave me a chance. I have everything anyone could ever want and you look like you could use some of that.” 

I wanted to roll my eyes, because that’s exactly what he’s doing this whole time; bragging. It’s not the lifestyle I’m interested in nor do I need it from him. I suddenly feel very content with the simple life I have, I don’t need any of those things that he’s trying to force on me. 

As I was sipping from my glass, I could already imagine if Alex was here, how he would definitely steal some food from my plate and then act offended when I call him out for it and how we would make fun of pretentious people like my date. On the other hand, I need to stop thinking about him so much and stop looking at life through him and manage on my own for once.

We chat more between bites and gulps, mostly about him or the more serious stuff and the future, things that I didn’t really feel the want to discuss on a Saturday night or if ever, especially on a first date. I mean, we’re so young, what’s the rush planning the rest of our lives right this second?

I let out a few forced laughs here and there at his stories about his trips around the world, laughs that I never had to force with Alex. I felt almost ill at one point, like my gut was telling me something and I wasn’t listening. It didn’t get any better when he fell deeper and deeper into the same cycle of boasting himself and convincing me that he’s the greatest I will ever find. I think he should just date himself at this point.

He eventually slows down, “that was something, wasn’t it? Are you impressed, you don’t look impressed? What about you? What do you think you want to do?”

“Um,” I gulp, “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he thinks out loud, “you could do so much more than you do right now. I’m not saying you could be as good as I am, these kind of things only happens to the few. I’m just the lucky one, but I think it would be good for you to give me a chance. You don’t need to be miserable for the rest of your live, when you could be happy with me.”

Oh God, I just want this to stop. How would he know what’s good for me and that I’m miserable with how life is going for me when in fact I am not? I mean, I am absolutely miserable right now here with him, but as soon as I get out of here I’ll be the happiest I have ever been and will go on living my perfect life that he won’t ever see. It’s perfect because it’s all mine and no-one else’s.

I nod just to get him to shut up, but as soon as I think it’s over, he looks like he’s eager and ready to delve into another story about himself. I sit there finishing up my food, occasionally listening to him, occasionally shamelessly thinking about Alex again. It’s a scary thought, how attached I feel to Alex all of a sudden. Maybe it’s moments like this, when I realise how good he is to me, so if nothing, at least this date gives me some new perspective on him and how he is the only beautiful thing in this ugly world. I can’t believe there ever was a me without him. 

We finish our plates just as he comes to an end on his story. I wonder if he timed that somehow and hope he doesn’t see through my facade and figure it out that I wasn’t paying much attention.

To my luck, he’s just all smiles, “thanks for listening. Now I guess it’s all up to you how you feel.”

Yeah, I’m not feeling much of anything.

He pays for us, at least he is a gentleman, and then we get up. I’m the one leading us outside this time. We stand there in the dark parking lot and he asks me if I need a ride home. I hastily lie again and tell him that I have a friend to pick me up, you know, any excuse just to walk away alone.

He seems to believe it and asks me instead, “so, will I see you again?”

Now’s the time for me to be honest. I shake my head, “sorry, I don’t think so,” and leave swiftly, but not without shooting him a sorry look. I don’t know exactly what I’m sorry for, I’m sorry for myself if anything. Almost everything he said tonight was uncalled for, I deserve something better.

As I make it far enough to not to be in his sight anymore, I fish my phone out of my pocket. It’s only 9:35 PM, I see. 

Before I can exactly control myself, I dial Alex’s number.

“Too drunk again?” he picks up, a taunting smirk evident in his voice.

Oh, how lovely it is to hear his voice, and just like that, he immediately makes me want to laugh the realest I have laughed the entire night. All it takes is really nothing from him to make me feel like this. It’s so easy for him to make me happy.

“Ugh, yeah,” I pretend to slur, “I went on this crappy date and drank for my misery the whole time.”

“You did?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I mean—what’s the truth? Did you really?”

“Yeah, I actually did.”

“No fuckin’ way,” his breath hitches for a second, “with who? You don’t know anyone.”

I laughed again, because he genuinely sounds like it’s news to him that I actually can go out and hang out with someone else other than him, “so you’d think, because I’m pretty sure I was just sitting at a restaurant with this guy, who, by the way, was—”

He rushes to interrupt me before he hears too much, “okay, okay! I get it, fuck. What the fuck—is this why you’ve been so quiet today?”

He’s right, we have not talked much today but I didn’t think it would concern him much, but now he makes it sounds like I should be behind bars for neglecting him for a day.

“Calm down, bucko. I didn’t even get to the good part, which is that I’m not interested in him and hope I never see him again.”

“Huh,” he exhales, “that bad?”

“Yeah… not the worst, but I didn’t have the best time either.”

“What happened? Why was he an asshole?” he inquired, almost defensively.

“Okay, imagine someone rich and successful—”

“Yeah, me,” he interrupts me again.

I shushed him through my giggles, “—and they just make it about themselves the whole time, like you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me that you think you’re better than me.”

He groans in response, “yeah, definitely an asshole. What the fuck were you even doing there?”

“Well, I thought it’d be fun, you know, as you usually expect from dates, but it’s not every time you get lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s why there’s only one of me,” he states.

I laughed again, “right. But, I’m definitely over it, so you don’t need to worry your little mind. The only thing you need to worry about is when will I see you again before the next date candidate comes along and steals me away again.”

“As you should, as you fuckin’ should be over it. That shit doesn’t sound like worth anyone’s time, especially not yours. I’ll see you next Friday, it’s settled, alright?”

This made me feel a whole lot better, I can’t lie. He’s so easy to be happy around, he doesn’t try too hard to be funny and that’s what makes him funny. I think he’s one of those people who I could list good things about for days. One of those people who constantly celebrates you like it’s your birthday every day. Someone who knows what you need before you know it yourself.

“I love how you know exactly what I need and want and how I should spend my time,” I tease him. What if he is that someone?

“I do. I have something for you that will surely make you feel better, wait.”

“Okay...” I will wait. I have no idea what he could have up his sleeve now, but I think I will be pleasantly surprised, like I always am with him.

All I hear next is rustling and him murmuring to himself as if setting up something or moving something heavy. It went on for a minute, before I heard him loud and clear again and what sounded like him placing the phone down, “so, I have this piano, I don’t know if you knew but… I haven’t played it in a long fuckin’ time anyway.”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know what it has to do with anything, but I will trust the process.

He starts playing and talking in a voice so obnoxious that it makes me cringe for a second, “if you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see? You belong with me—I'm in the room—in my room, I don’t know—it's a typical Tuesday night—a Saturday night, actually—I’m listening to the kind of music he doesn't like, and he'll never know your story like I do—something like that.”

I don’t know what is going on here, I mean it’s pretty obvious that he’s trying to lift my spirits that were stomped to the ground, but where is this coming from? All jokes aside, he’s pretty good at playing, but of course I don’t dare to tell him. Even if this is not genuine, I’m not mad about it, at least it’s something to laugh about, but if he’s this good when he’s not even being serious, I wonder how good he could be when he wants to be good. 

When he decides he’s done, it’s silent until I speak. He seems to be amused by how I’m struggling to make sense of this and laughs loudly, still playing random keys in the background, “yeah, that’s a good fuckin’ song, okay? It’s just straight up disrespectful if it doesn’t make you feel better. Like, I’m sorry I can’t write that shit myself, but I’m still here trying to make the most of it for you.”

For the rest of my way home we talk about nonsense and laugh, it’s what we do best. I try my best to keep good company, even though I’m not able to get back my mind that I had lost on him earlier and I hope for the best that it’s not too obvious that my mind is somewhere else, literally. Will I ever know the truth behind what he did, did he really mean it? Whatever the truth is; will it hurt, is it going to be worth knowing?

After we hang up the phone, I stare at the screen like it would tell me all the answers. That was one hell of a night.

.

He seemed to be completely oblivious to everything the following weeks. Work was as usual, except that it almost had became a ritual for us to see each other every Friday night. It felt dangerous, like I could finally live instead of just exist, it was living between existing. I lived in ways I had never before and no one knew, no one but me and him, but I liked it like that. We would hang out at his place most of the time, I would keep him company and he would keep all of my secrets. His place felt like a hideaway from the real world, most of the time I even forgot there was a real world out there, it felt like it was just us two. We spent time talking about anything and killed time doing much of nothing when there was nothing to talk about. Nonetheless, all time spent with him was time well spent.

As I was on my way to his place one Friday night, I had a different feeling about it as I typically do. Last week had been busy, maybe it was the stress catching up to me.  I made it to his door, knocking, waiting until he appeared behind it, looking a bit disheveled. We greeted each other and he let me in.

I was touching up in the front of the bathroom mirror when he barged in, “I was thinking—“

I looked at him through the reflection, silently asking him to keep going. 

“—we could go down to the pool now. I can see it from the window, there’s literally no one in there right now.”

“We can?” I asked in surprise. I mean, I’m really not surprised about it being empty, it is almost 9 PM, but I for sure would think that it’s closed at this hour. Isn’t that what he has told me before, when his friends were here too and we asked to go there but he said no, because it closes for the night? 

“Yeah!” he cheered, “why not? It’s always open for residents. I know I might’ve said last time that it’s closed at nights, but it’s technically not. I just wanted to—I don’t know—be there with you, not them.”

I’m not sure what he means by wanting to exclude the others, or why he suddenly seems hesitant to even look at me, or why he sounds like his guard is down and he struggled to say those words out loud, but I shrug it off. 

“Okay,” I agree, “but I wasn’t exactly prepared for this, I didn’t bring anything.”

If I would’ve known this was on the agenda for tonight, I could have been more prepared, but he is so full of surprises and spontaneousness that I shouldn’t be surprised. One of the many things I have learnt about him so far, I wonder if I will learn more tonight at the pool.

“No, no,” he waved me off, “I got it all.”

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle, “I have this left from… that night. Is this okay? Just something chill.”

I agree to it, knowing exactly the night he means. He has learned not to poke anymore holes into my remorse than I already have. It’s something we just have moved past.

I watch as he runs around grabbing the keys and the bottle and also two glasses from the cupboard, and then we’re off.

The air at the pool almost stood still, it was so quiet and calm. The moon hit the surface of the water right, making it illuminate before our eyes. I pried my eyes off of it just to see the stunning night sky above us. I suddenly felt small in this world and overwhelmed by how that sky is black, apart from the hundreds of stars, but I’m only seeing colours when I’m here with him. There’s so much beauty in this world that I will never get to see all of it, but this moment makes up for it; the way the universe is kind enough to always stay beautiful to make moments like this more beautiful. Or maybe I just fell for him and got a concussion that’s making me see stars and colours. One or the other. 

We sit down on the side of the pool, making ourselves comfortable. He pops the bottle open and pours us both a full glass.

“This is nice. If I could I’d be here every night,” I broke the comfortable silence. ‘Nice’ is definitely an understatement, but I don’t want to overwhelm him like I’m overwhelming myself.

He grinned and swirled his glass, “well, who says you can’t?”

“You, realistically.” 

He looked surprised as he gulped down some, “the fuck? You can come over here anytime you want, okay? You know that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

There’s never a point in arguing with him when it comes to… well, me. Like how he always wants me around and if I can’t be there with him, he always makes sure I know I’m at least on his mind by blowing up my phone, asking me how am I. Yeah, I told you; we’ve come far from where we started. 

We had a few glasses and talked, a lot. The night got darker as we got lost in endless conversations. I usually forget a lot of things, but I’ll never forget this night, I’m sure of that. It’s the way our minds and words merge together like missing parts, creating an entirety of mutual understanding that only makes sense to us.

As he eventually laid down on the concrete to relax himself and I decided to join him, the view of the luminous sky was undeniably impeccable from this angle. I could still hear the soft sounds of the pool too, the sound of the water gently splashing against the walls, that made me want to close my eyes. There are so many things to be happy about right now, but I’m thinking; what is it that we’re doing here? Are we crossing lines or are we just friendly? Why am I here every Friday night if it’s all innocent? Do I even want to feel like that about someone? Everything is good as it is, so why ruin a good thing like I’m doing right now. But if it’s not him in the end, then who?

I think I’m going through the melancholy you get in this position, when it’s late at night and you think too hard about the world and you get a bit sad and apprehensive about everything. 

“The same person that’s destined for you or cares for you or will become your everything someday could be looking at the same moon right now. Isn’t that insane?” I don’t even know what I said that, I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. I still don’t seem to know how deep is too deep.

He sounded tense, “it is, yeah.”

It didn’t sound like him at all. Where’s the laughs and the jokes that are more like him? I was almost expecting him to laugh at me and call me out for being too philosophical for his liking, but he didn’t. It made me nervous.

I turn to look at him as he seems to turn away. It gives me no answers. I think the silence is the loudest and clearest answer here. I’m not sure what happened in the span of these few minutes and why are we now acting like we don’t know each other at all? 

When he finally turns to me, I see a look on his face that I have never seen before. He looks almost emotionless. I know he knows this is getting weird and I don’t know anymore who’s to blame, I fear it’s me. There has never been a better time for him to quiet my fears than right now. I just wish he would.

Is this the moment for the inevitable hurt when something goes awfully wrong? Whatever it is, whatever will come out of his mouth next, will change something, change us. I’m sure of it.

“Can I ask you something?” he finally stutters. It’s so quiet I can barely hear it. I wonder how loud it must be in his mind.

“Yeah, anything.”

He laughed sadly, “yeah, anything but what I’m about to ask you.”

It can’t be that bad, can it?

“What is it?” I urge him to tell me.

He abruptly sits up, looking afraid of God knows what, his head slumped, looking very stiff and uncomfortable in his own skin. He has never been the one to run when the heat turns up and it scares me how much he looks like he’s just planning his escape from this situation right now. I want to be there for him so bad, to reassure him that everything is okay, but I settle for silence. I’m not sure what to say to him when he’s acting like this, it’s my first time hanging out with this side of him. So we just sit there, I’m literally counting the seconds, because I don’t know what else to do with my thoughts nor how to sort them.

He finally gets it together and sits up straight, “sorry—can I kiss you?”

Is that really what he wants? Does he know this could make us or break us? One move wrong and we fall apart. But, why do I want to say yes? I thank the lucky stars that it’s dark here, so he can’t completely see my face, I know I look as dumbfounded as I feel. I felt a rush of energy, I’m not sure what kind of energy it is yet.

“Yes,” I slyly give him my verbal consent and sit up.

“Holy shit, yes—really?” he slurred, almost as if he was drunk on this. 

When I nodded to confirm his question, it didn’t take him long at all to slot our lips together confidently, like he has thought this over before. I wonder if he has. I’d like to find it in me to ask him some time, but for now now our mouths are busy pressing and massaging against each other over and over again.

It felt like a movie with fireworks, like that whole Hollywood blown-way-out-of-proportion magic. I think moments like this, that are like something out of a movie, only happens to you once in your lifetime and I don’t regret one bit spending mine on him. 

Excuse my language, but shit got very real when he wrapped his other arm around me and deepened the kiss. It felt new and breathtaking. I’m pretty sure that he could make all my dreams come true overnight. Maybe that’s my head and the adrenaline running through my veins talking, but if this is already the dream, then I don’t want to wake up ever.

We slowly pull away, so slowly that it feels like for a moment we are one, and it takes a while for him to come back to reality and take his hand off of me. I want to tell him that it’s okay and that he can keep it there, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk just yet. My lips feel like they’ve been claimed for more important things, like they should never be used for any other purpose ever again than kissing him. He remained silent too and I wonder if he feels the same. I felt wildly flustered again as I thought about the possibility of me in his thoughts. I was even more flustered when I realised how much I want to do that again, but I’m not sure how much is too much. We’ve already crossed one line, so what’s another one?

He seemed to know it too and make it known that I was there, in every corner and place of his mind, when he looked into my eyes and whispered the only words that matters, “was that okay—did you like it? I liked it.”

“More than okay,” I reassured him, “I liked it so much that I’d like to do it again.”

Relief washed over his face and his eyes gained their usual whimsical twinkle back as he nods and cups the back of my neck and brings his mouth down to mine. It was even better than the first time, as he made me putty in his hands.

“What if it’s me?” he whispers against my lips. 

I pull away and knit my brows, “what?”

He laughs freely, “sorry. You were just going on about that shit about the moon and I was here next to you thinking how much I care for you and I don’t think you know it. Like, I’m right fuckin’ here.”

I’m not sure if my concept of care is the same as his, if he thinks it like I think of it. But, I can’t complain when he’s here pouring his heart out to me after everything.

“I… don’t know what to say, other than I care about you too, a lot. I just didn’t expect to find it in you tonight.“

He quiets down, “it’s okay. We don’t need to talk about it right now. I just wanted you to know that if you can’t find whatever you’re looking for, it’s because you already have it, it’s me.”

And there he goes again, turning into a cocky little tease. 

“Yeah, I’m done talking,” I pretend to roll my eyes.

Big mistake, because he plays along and doesn’t lose the smirk off his face, “are you, now? I’ll spare you talking, if you let me.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

And then, kind of to my surprise, he pulls me in for endless kisses. I don’t know what I expected, but it caught me off guard how brave he is all of a sudden with his words, his hands, his lips, all of it. But, I like it, the confidence. 

In the end he grabs our glasses and the empty bottle and asked if we should go back up since it was getting chilly. I agreed, because it was and I was dressed fairly lightly, no matter how bad I wanted to stay here with him. Those were one of the few words we exchanged as we made our way back upstairs. We left the pool just like we had come, as friends and nothing more, I guess. On the outside we appear normal, you would never guess there is something wrong, but on the inside we both know we had taken some damage. Repairing that would cost us facing things and questions that we are not ready to see just yet. Only time will tell the answers, I think.

He opened the front door and we were immediately engulfed by the warm air. It was dark in the apartment, until he switched on the lights, creating a dim atmosphere for us. I don’t know what is happening next, am I supposed to just go home now? 

“I have another question for you,” he told me in the kitchen, setting our glasses down, “you remember that piano I have? I wanna show you something.”

Oh God, how much more can I take for one night? 

Nonetheless, I nodded, “yeah, sure, but you don’t have to impress me anymore.”

I think he has done enough tonight to show me how he feels. I do regret saying that when I see him grin at me over his shoulder, like he is back to his usual self again that lives for teasing me, “what, like you’re fuckin’ hopelessly in love with me already? This is it, like—you want my last name now or later?”

I try to act as unfazed by his comment as I possibly can as I follow him into his room and then there he is, anxiously messing with his piano, while I just stand and watch. He didn’t have me waiting for too long when he spoke again, “I can do better than the last time you heard me playing this bad boy.” 

I played the memory of him singing to me on the phone back in my mind and laughed. 

“Okay, if you insist,” I told him, leaning back against the wall, letting him do his thing.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I don’t know what this will make me sound like, but I learned something that I think you will like and appreciate. You will, right?”

“Sure. It sounds like you’re hopelessly in love.”

I should know he is always one step ahead of me and that I can’t win, because he grins again as his eyes shift back to me, “there is hope. You’re still here.”

What is he doing to me?

Instead of more words, he let the music speak for itself and started playing. It didn’t take me long to recognise the song; You Belong With Me. Now, this makes it feel like he’s playing along to whatever joke this is, but as I stand there and watch him, I notice how much more serious he sounds. Of course I don’t dare to look at his face, I’m scared I might see through him, see his heart and soul and subconscious thoughts, see something that will change my mind about us, that maybe he is wishing non-existing things into existence, like us. Maybe this means more to him that I think it does. When I think I have him figured out, I realise I don’t. But I can’t exactly figure out myself either right now.

One thing I think I know for sure right now is that I feel something for him that I haven’t before. It’s when I see him like this, like he’s in his element, like music is the language he has wanted to speak to me all along. This is a total new side of him I have not had the pleasure of seeing before. I wonder if I’m really this special to him that he would do this, do something that most people would consider even romantic. 

And… it’s kind of even attractive how he plays.

“That was nice...”

“Yeah? Just ‘nice’?”

“You know what I mean,” I try to divert my gaze when I feel my face flush.

“Hm, tell me,” he rolls over to me in his chair and looks up at me. So many times I have seen those eyes, but now he stares at me so intensely I can almost see all the worlds and all the lives he has lived before. Maybe I knew him in another life and that’s why things are unfolding like they are right now, everything all at once.

“Fine! I think it was kind of… cute, and… I don’t know where all of that came from, but I think it made me think that maybe you were right. That you do things to me that no one else can.”

Wow, look at me being confident and speaking my mind. Never happens.

“‘Really now?” he smiles smugly, raising his eyebrows, ”fuckin’ finally. And you… you think I was cute too, huh? Just ‘cute?”

I sigh out loud, “fine. It was hot, okay?”

I think I went too far. I think that was too much. Maybe I have had too much to drink again. But no, I do know how I feel. 

His smirk doesn’t falter, and it’s my time to yelp when he suddenly makes the move to pull me on his lap. This is a whole new sensation. And what happened then? We got greedy again with our mouths and hands and each other. Endless sweet touches and kisses, as I stay seated on his lap. It was innocent as we still got used to the feeling of feeling each other this close.

We soon wrap up the night and I decide it’s time for me to go home and I actually couldn’t wait to be alone with my thoughts. I have a lot to think over, or maybe I’ll just fall into daydreams about him and this night instead. Tonight’s moment are going to be the rest of my life’s memories, and I can revisit those memories whenever I want to. He walks me to the door, we don’t really talk about what happened or what will happen next, instead he just settles for pulling me into a hug. His grip on me, that’s tighter than ever before, tells me everything I need to know, that he doesn’t want this to end here.

All he asks me as I’m about to walk out is “will we do this again?”, holding onto my arm, not willing to let me slip away before I can answer his burning question, whatever he means by ‘this’.

I just grin, “maybe.”

I still want to play a little hard to get after all this time, see what his intensions are and if he will keep fighting for me and my time. Now, I don’t actually mean any harm by that and I definitely want this to happen again, I just still feel like I have to preserve some self-respect and not be an easy target. Then I walk off.

.

The following week brings that painful tension between us and all I can think about is if we made a mistake at the pool and if I’m his brand-new regret. I’m trying to keep that thought out of my head, but it’s hard, because when it comes to work and talking with him, there’s so much tension there that I’m just dreading the moment when the heat turns up and it all sets on fire. I don’t know what will be left of us once that happens.

It wasn’t until a few more weeks had passed until it really settled in my chest, this hollow feeling, when something unexpected happens: he starts giving me the silent treatment. Something I never expected him to do, and unfortunately, I’m think I’m partly to blame. The night at the pool made things weird. If I think hard enough back to that night, it almost feels like a movie how he made the first move and unveiled both of ours wants for each other, but it ends as soon as I open my eyes and face the reality where he flipped the script and fleed. He had made me feel like I was flying that night, now I’m flying and getting motion sick.

I try texting him;

“Is everything okay? I need to talk to you.” 9:35 PM

He doesn’t respond. I wonder if he’s sleeping soundly meanwhile I’m staying up all night. 

Eventually I’m so tired I just fall asleep, my phone next to my head.

.

No text from him in the morning, or the morning after that.

I keep trying with a different approach;

“Pretty bored today, what are you up to? Unless you want me to get a head start and work on that stuff today already? Or unless you are up for some chatting :)?” 11:39 AM

To my surprise, he replies, but it’s not the side of him I was hoping would to come to the phone;

“No” 11:52 AM

If I’m not careful, I will get cut by the sharp edges of his tone even when there’s no reason for it. Maybe he doesn’t mean it like that, maybe he’s stressed and unintentionally took it out on me. I read the text again like a chant and wear it like a warning label. I didn’t know it would get to me like this, but I feel like I need to write it on me to warn people like him to watch their temper around me.

I text him one final thing before getting on with my day, even though I have a peculiar feeling he won’t reply;

“Okay. Let me know when you’re free to talk!” 11:55 AM 

I was right, for the rest of the day and night, he’s silent.

.

If I thought one day of his silence was loud, nothing could have prepared me for Alex disappearing from my life for a whole week and then two. He had brought us back to life just to leave like a ghost halfway through the good part of our story. It doesn’t make sense. Reality hurts too bad right now, I wish I could leave like he did. 

It was a text after another that I kept sending him, not even expecting a reply anymore but I still do it;

“Are you ok?” 7:52 PM

I wish I didn’t care so much, but I do. I thought we were getting along just fine, more than fine. That’s why it hurts.

.

My friend does keep me in check from that day on and blows up my phone with happy texts constantly, like they know somehow that I need a friend right now. Those are the only texts I seem to receive these days, so it was a real shocker when one day my phone buzzed with a text from Alex;

“Can we meet? Maybe by the park?” 1:15 PM

Oddly enough, I know the park he means. It’s the one next to where he lives that you can partly see from the living room window, the one I always walk past whenever I’m on my way to his. I think it’s the real oasis of this city, somewhere where the birds never stop singing and it’s always evergreen. I think that will change today. I’m never going to see that park in the same light again. I hope I’m wrong.

I throw on some clothes and then I’m out the door.

When I arrive at the park, he’s already there. Whatever it is that he wants to tell me, he must want to get it over with fast. When he looks like he doesn’t even want to look at me, I look at the sky and wish there’s an alternate universe somewhere up there where this is not happening, where everything is still okay.

I sit there next to him, nearly not as close as I used to would. The park looks ethereal as always, especially on a summer day like this it’s like a paradise, but you know what they say; even the sun sets in paradise. 

He sits there next to me in heavy silence, before taking a deep breath and telling me with his head in his hands, “listen, this whole thing—I’ve had fun, but…”

I’m just waiting for him to say it, that this was all a mistake.

He finally continues, “I’m just thinking about shit and turning shit over in my head. I like what has happened so far, but there’s just no dating—or being with someone like you. It’s so much more complicated than that.”

He said the d-word. Fuck. He’s braver than me. 

I don’t dare to interrupt when he keeps going, “I mean, you’re amazing, but it’s like—that’s the thing; you deserve someone that’s sure of what they want and don’t leave you hanging. For me, it’s like, I date or I don’t; I don’t do anything in between. And right now, I’m not sure what I want. You with me?”

He checks in with me and I just nod. I think I understand and I think I’m the same. Neither of us are cut out for casual dating, it has to be the real thing or nothing. And making the decision if we are ready for the real thing, I don’t know if we, or I, can make that decision right now after all. He also keeps dropping this d-word like it’s nothing. I guess this is the calm before the storm. 

“And—yeah, there’s not just dating, or committing to someone like you. People like you are so deserving of things I’m not sure I can give you. Maybe that’s just my insecurities talking, but I mean this as wholeheartedly as I can and hope you remember it. You deserve someone who deserves you, as simple as that, and I don’t know if I do right now, or ever.”

Wow, he really dug to the bottom of his feelings and found some gold there, and even shared some of it with me. 

I finally find my voice and some words to make sense of it all, “that’s—I’m very glad you told me that. I agree, there’s no telling who really deserves something the most, but I know you deserve good things too and I feel… very overwhelmed, but happy to know you see me as one of those. No matter what happens next, I think things have already changed between us, and maybe that means that the worst part is over, but I guess all we can do is keep going like before and see where we end up?”

He nods and croaks out, “yeah. That would be great. I need to get my own shit together first, like I don’t wanna be one of those fuckin’ people when I say this, but it’s not you. It’s me. I just want to be the best for you, but for now, I can only be your friend. Just like before.”

I’m glad we had this conversation after all, but still feel a little pang in my chest when we agree on staying like we were before, like there is no promise or guarantee we will ever make it as anything more. It’s better than nothing though. Now we just need time. Time for if nothing else, the sun setting in our paradise. 

.

There’s nothing that time and sleep can’t fix. Just a few days ago when I had the talk with Alex, I felt almost explosive, like if someone would have said the wrong things or made me upset in any way, I would have just exploded and spilled my feelings all over the place. There was more for me to process that I was able to take, but now I feel fine. We had a mature conversation, and I have a clearer vision of his feelings now. No more second guessing or doubting, or getting mad over literally nothing.

Work feels fine again, because at least that awkward tension is mostly gone, but we don’t talk as freely as we used to. That’s what happens when you’re not careful and spill your cup of romance all over your work.

I still nevertheless happily tell my friend about it over coffee. I didn’t mean to talk about it right there, in broad daylight, in a crowded cafe, but I did.

“So,” I tell them, “we did make up—I mean, there was no bad blood to begin with. I was just being dramatic, like you told me.”

“Yeahhh, I told you! I knew it,” they rolled their eyes at me from across the table, “no need to get all fired up if someone just—what did he tell you? Why did he do it? He was just busy, or?”

“Yeah, pretty much. He was just... busy. Yeah,” I have never sounded more shady. 

I know I still can’t blow my cover. This thing will be kept tightly under wraps until it feels right to discuss it with other people. I’m also that good of a person that I want his approval to share anything.

As I feared, my friend doubts me, “really? Is that really all? What are you not telling me?”

Digging a deeper hole for myself, I stutter, “yep! I just—I was really expecting there to be something, so I was just surprised that—you know, it wasn’t something I did. You know me, I’m paranoid like that, I don’t exactly like that about myself either.”

I was hoping this conversation would shift to something else, like my insecurities, literally anything else than this. A part of me feels bad for the lies I keep feeding them, but I know I’m doing this for the right reasons.

They squinted their eyes at me, “that’s weird, you’re being weird. I know you and I know you’re being weird like now. Since when we don’t tell each other everything?”

I don’t like how sad they sound all of a sudden.

“I am telling you everything, as always,” I try to comfort them, “it’s just weird for me to talk about him, because you know—he’s him. I just still feel weird about it that I get to know him like this.”

That seemed to ease their mind, as I witnessed a slight smile creep back into their face, “okay, okay, I believe you.”

.

As summer starts nearing its’ end, I feel like it’s also the end of other things too. Like the thing between me and Alex. We haven’t really hung out or even talked, and on top of that, I heard the news that it’s safe to travel again and that he’s going back home to Mexico for at least the rest of the summer, maybe even for longer. He didn’t tell me how long he will be gone for, but I know how his tone works and that there was something he didn’t tell me. Meanwhile I knew I will miss him terribly, but didn’t dare to tell him that either, considering the circumstances.

And so, he leaves in silence and I let him. I get to keep my job and talk to him about work matters, but anything other than that, nothing.

I miss him bad and fear that by the time he comes back there is going to be nothing left of us. He lives in a whole new world now, or that’s what it feels like. It feels like he is lightyears away.

.

“So, what do you want to do on Saturday?” my friend asks me as we pick out what to eat from the menu.

“Why?”

“Your birthday, dummy! You forgot your own birthday?”

“Of course I didn’t,” I scoff back.

They just sip their drink and devilishly smirk at me from behind the glass, “sure. Anyway, we could go shopping for some props, since we’re here at the mall. Do you know who’s coming yet?”

I scratch my head, “not really.”

Truthfully, there’s only one person I hope to see there, but it will not happen since he’s not here. I wonder what he is doing right now, wherever he is.

.

It’s the weekend, — and more importantly, it’s my birthday today— , but I’m just feeling blue. I’m throwing a party tonight and invited all of my friends that are in town, and in conclusion, they are coming over any minute now and I need to feel better ASAP before I become a buzzkill. I could lie and tell to myself that I don’t know the reason behind my heavy heart, but I know. Me and Alex haven’t really talked lately. I doubt he even knows it’s my birthday, or if he knows I wonder if he cares. It just sucks things have went south between us.

Soon my friends are walking in through the door one by one, holding small gifts or flowers and hugging me, wishing me a happy birthday. They don’t know that the best gift would be if Alex was here, as ungrateful as that sounds. The music is blasting through the speakers, but it’s not as loud as the thoughts in my head. This is going to be a long, miserable night if I don’t get it together.

We take a bunch pictures to post online and show everyone how much fun we are having. For me, it all feels like a facade. That’s how social media usually makes me feel, but now it feels like a whole cliché how I’m acting all happy, but inside I’m in shreds. If things were any different, would Alex be here right now? Possibly. That breaks my heart. 

The night goes on and I keep discreetly checking the door and my phone every now and then. I still don’t seem to understand that he won’t be here. One day he maybe will, if I don’t overthink myself to death by then.

We poured more drinks and even set up a little party game section in the living room, moving the furniture for more space to move and dance around. The more fun we had, the more ungrateful I felt for wanting more from this night, because at least I have my real friends right here with me. How could I ever wish for more? Who else could I count on if not them? I might feel lonely without Alex, but I would be lost if it wasn’t for the people here. There’s a difference and that tells me everything I need to know.

I can definitely have fun tonight. I can stop holding out my hand for someone who has no intention of taking it if I want to.

I poured myself another drink and to make up for my lack of gratitude so far, I went to turn the music up and got cheers from everyone as response. I do miss him, but I know now it will pass.

.

It was fine until it got to the point of the night when I have had enough to drink to start to feel emotional or sentimental or both and cursing myself for it. A moment when I just want to text someone something risky, especially Alex. It’s a stupid idea, a bad idea even, and just not worth it for me to be so forward on the phone now and then later flinch at the silence he will give me in return.

I still do the bad thing. I go to the bathroom and before I step out again, I type a quick text to him,

“I wish you could be for my birthday tonight :( It’s fun, but would be more fun with you here. 10:55 PM

Now I feel stupid as I stand and watch the text being delivered to him, knowing it’s too late to undo the damage. Way to make him feel guilty for not being here and making a fool out of myself in the process too. I know I’m better than this and I don’t like the sides he’s seeing of me right now.

I exit the bathroom and my friends tell me we should move this party to a bar. I agree, I have neighbours after all and it’s now past 11 PM, meaning we have to quiet down. And so the music stops and tables are being cleared and the lights are being switched off as we leave, but the night is not over for us yet. 

It’s a struggle for us to get a ride this late on a weekend, but we eventually manage to get a cab.

As we all finally squeeze in the car, I check my phone. My heart unpleasantly makes a drop to the pit of my stomach like I was on a roller coaster of life when I see a text from Alex;

“Happy Birthday” and a stupid meme attached to it that immediately makes me smile. 

It’s just like the old times happening all over again, like someone rewinded the story of us, when we were able to joke around like this with each other. It feels nice to do it again. Maybe I can finally take my heart down from the shelf I had reserved for him and accept that there is just friendship after everything we’ve been through.

I was looking out the window, watching the city lights and busy streets pass us by, while listening to the song on the radio and my friends conversing about what they will order at the bar. Things might not be as good as they used to be with Alex, but at least he’s still somewhere out there for me.

I lock my phone and put it away in my bag for good. We will be okay again. Or that’s how I’m trying to distract myself from thinking too much, because I know deep down I miss him bad.

.

At the bar, it’s jolly. I’m bubbly like the bubbles in our drinks. There’s no reason to be sad anymore, as long as I remember to forget. We dance the night away, we take more pictures, and buy all the fancy drinks. I know it’s a one-way ticket to temporary happiness, but I’m planning on staying for as long as I can. 

I get up to go and order another drink, and my friend comes along to tug at my clothes. I figure they are just too drunk to support themselves, until I notice their eyes wide as a deer’s in headlights and they shriek in my ear, “oh my God, I think I just saw him!”

“Who?” I cringe at their volume. 

They stammer and wave their hands frustratedly, already having trouble expressing themselves due to being under the influence, “Alex!”

My heart sinks.

“He’s not here, he’s home! We’re literally not even in the same country right now,” I try to get them to calm down, before someone else intervenes. I understand that this isn’t a good look on us here, them all over the place, freaking out.

“You ordering?” the bartender asks, seemingly bored of waiting around. 

I tell him to hold off a minute and instead escort my friend back to our table. What kind of a sick joke was that anyway?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—it looked just like him!” my friend still slurs their apologies to me. 

“Okay, I believe you. It’s okay,” I coo at them when they look at the verge of tears. What have I started? My brain being occupied with the endless trail of thoughts of Alex all night seems to be contagious. Are we all going crazy? Is this fun anymore? 

I don’t know if I even believe them, though. I’m curious who it was, I could imagine it’s someone that does not look like Alex the slightest. You know, when you have had too much to drink, anything can look like anything. I admit, the thought of it makes me want to laugh. It’s kind of funny in the end. 

“Hey!” someone storms up in front of me.

What now? Oh no, are we in trouble? Was that scene we made too much? 

I look up and squint, just to be met with eyes I know I have looked into before. I almost jump out of my skin when they splay a hand across my back. 

“I found you! I actually found you!” they giggle. 

And that’s definitely the same laugh I have had the pleasure of hearing before. 

Alex?!

I swear I almost fell forward from shock, “what? How… How?”

Alex places his arm on mine now and leans in to talk quietly to me, as if he doesn’t want me to miss a word, “what does it look like? Okay, I know it looks bad, but…”

I waited for him to say something and still look at him like he is a shooting star passing me by, which seems to amuse him. 

“I flew back, to... see you, I guess? Yeah. I have to go back home tomorrow, or so, but then I’ll be back again, okay?”

None of this is actually making sense like it should. He came all the way here, just for a day, to attend my birthday party? He flew all those hours to see me and has to do it all over again tomorrow? 

I’m here standing in place, his hand steadying me. It’s like the world has stopped for us, and it’s just waiting for me to make a choice, make a move, say a word, for things to start moving again.

I know he’s touching me, but I almost don’t feel it. I can see he’s desperately waiting and begging me with his doe eyes to do something, but I can’t quite acknowledge it. Did he make the right choice by showing up here? Just when I felt like I was content leaving things between us unfinished, to never write that chapter, he’s bringing everything back.

I know whatever I feel and whatever my choice will be is real, when tears pool in my eyes, that he seems to notice even in the dim lighting, because he starts to move his hand and rub my back again soothingly.

“W-what changed?” I finally ask him, when I got myself together. Except that I’m now crying, great. 

He looks surprised that I want to have this talk right here, right now, but then tells me “I wanted to see you, and I want to see what life could be with you. You know, if we take the next step.” 

In spite of everything, in this moment, I feel it in my soul  and heart that I need him in my life, in any way it works out, but even better if it’s in a way we haven’t explored before. Or is it? 

“Don’t overthink it,” he reassures me, as he can sense the distress I’m in, “let’s make the most out of these few days and see what happens.”

I nod, “that sounds... perfect.”

He laughs lightly, and pulls me finally in a tighter hug and sways us back and forth. I could spend the rest of my night here. 

My friends are quiet behind us, trying to mind their own business’s, but of course they are curious too, looking at us and then looking away when I try to catch their eyes. I don’t even want to know how dramatic I look, with tears rolling down my chin, pouting my lips. 

I guess I have to introduce Alex to them now, kind of. I’m sure they already know him. 

He stands there right by my side as my friends pipe up their “hi”, making sure to say hello to everyone back. 

I can’t help myself, but only look at him with stars in my eyes. How charming he is towards everyone, not losing that smile on his pretty face even for one second and raising his eyebrows in surprise every time he tries to memorize a new name. It’s kind of an… attractive look. I should stop. 

None of my friends still have no idea that there is something going on between us. To them, we are just friends, good friends. But just between me and Alex, we both know now there is something more brewing. 

I’ll tell them in my own time. Nothing gets out, until I’m ready for them to know. And this bar doesn’t seem like the ideal place to drop such scoop. I’m sure we all want to be sober for that conversation, too. 

“Sorry, I have to go and lock my car doors. I got out in a rush when I was looking for you and feel like I’m getting robbed right fuckin’ now as we speak,” he whispers to me and laughs.

I smile at him, until my smile falls, “your car? I mean, yeah, of course, but how did you even find me? How did you knew I was here? How did you knew to drive here, out of all places?”

He just mysteriously grins from ear to ear, “so many questions, but how could I not know? That’s all you’ve been posting and I can still see your Snapchat location, you know? I knew it would come in handy one day.”

It dawns on me, “oh, right.”

I never even thought of that possibility. He’s a hundred steps ahead of me in thinking. Props to him. 

I let him go and as he disappears for a minute, it’s already enough time for me to start missing him. I lived all this time without him, and now even a second is too long without him. Love is impatient. I want him only to myself. Love is selfish. I’m talking about love like it’s been here the whole time. Love is blind. 

I want to cry again. I’m not sure if they are happy tears this time. I’m happy, because he’s here, but it also fills me with a heavy feeling, because I can’t exactly celebrate and smother him with love here in public like I want to. I need to be careful of every word and action with him in front of my friends. Hearts aren’t meant for cages and chains, and that’s what mine feels like right now, locked up and tortured. Misused. Might as well not have one. 

No one at the table says anything. I guess they are either still drunk and ready to go home, or just flabbergasted. I’m both. Mostly the latter. I feel almost completely sobered up. 

Before I can hold myself back, I tear up again. I’ll just blame this on the drinks, or him, or me, or my friends. All of it is overwhelming. 

My said friends immediately gather around me to comfort me and in chorus ask me what’s wrong. I almost want to say everything is wrong, but that’s not true.

“Are you just going to make yourself cry more and not tell us what’s happening?” they push me to talk and huddle around. It makes me crack. 

I choke out and sniffle, speaking no matter how much my voice breaks, “he’s just so great, you guys, like… you see him now and he’s so kind and amazing, right? But once you actually get to know him like I do, he’s incredible.” 

I can’t pick my head up anymore from where it’s buried in my hands, but I can tell by the loud silence that there’s confusion in the air, until my friend snaps back to reality and is the first to ask me what I’m sure everyone else is thinking, “but… this is a good thing, right? Happy tears?”

Others agree to the question, waiting to hear the confirmation of their conclusions from me. Safe to say, they are surprised at my outburst, but still supportive.

I hiccup, “I guess...”

Now I just feel like leaving it at that, if they can’t figure it out themselves that I’m not happy with the way things are. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I got some of it off my chest and that’s it. No more spoilers. 

“You’ve cried a lot tonight, on your birthday too! Are you sure you’re okay?” another friend asks. 

I settle for silence and silent weeping for a little longer, until I croak out, “I feel like I have never felt like this about anything, or anyone, before like I feel about him. There’s so much emotion, as you can tell. And I—we—there are some feelings involved, has been for a while now. I like him, he likes me. He wants to try to—I don’t know—see if we could be more than friends. That’s why he came here tonight.”

Shit. Before I can stop myself, I have spilled the secret. This is bad. I can still feel my cheeks burning under the stream of tears and I don’t see an end to it. I have to get it together though, before Alex gets back. Which should be any second now, by the way.

I don’t even know if he’s okay with this information being out. I don’t even know if that’s true. What if it doesn’t work out in the end and he leaves the country again as just a friend? 

I try to wipe my eyes before he comes back.

“It’s okay! I mean, wow, I never saw this coming, and judging by your reaction, you didn’t either, but sometimes it just happens like that, when you least expect it,” my friends are immediately there for me.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, it’s just really scary for me that you guys know now. And it’s a big deal.”

When Alex finally, or at a perfect time, comes back when I look decent again, everyone fortunately acts the same as before. I don’t think he even notices that I’ve been shedding tears again. In any other situation I’d feel hurt, but now it’s for the better. At least I don’t think he notices, when he smiles at me and makes the move to put his arm around me to be cute, but holds himself back and instead asks me if I’m okay. 

We stay for one more round of drinks and I comprehend that he hasn’t wished me a happy birthday yet. Maybe there’s a time and place for that later.

When the night actually comes to an end and everyone has an assigned ride home, Alex gets close to me again and asks me, “so, uh—do you want me to drop you off at home?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

He gentlemanly opens the car door for me and waits for me to climb in, until getting in from his side. Before he even considers driving off, he looks at me and daringly caresses my cheek with his soft fingertips, “hey. Happy birthday. I didn’t tell you yet and—”

He checks the time.

“—it’s past midnight, but fuck it. It’s still your birthday, don’t listen to the clock.”

We laugh in the dark car and I give him my most sincere thank you. 

“So, about your present…”

I examine his face, and how it turns smug, and tell him, “a present? I think you coming here was enough. What could be better than that?”

I’m surprised when he still doesn’t start the car, but pulls his hand back a little bit just to use his thumb to swipe it slowly across my lower lip and murmurs, “no, no, nothing like that. There’s really only one more thing that I could give you.” 

“What is it?” 

Alex tilts my chin up, his eyes not leaving my lips, “I think you know. Do you trust me?”

Oh… I think I do know what he means. 

I gulp as he gets closer, “I do.”

This is not the first time we kiss, but it’s the first time we do it when we know the feeling is mutual and this could become a recurring thing. As our lips mash and do their thing together, his warm fingertips slips under my the hem of my shirt just a little, to test the waters. I let him twiddle with the material and claim every inch of my skin. 

“What time will I see you tomorrow?” I mumble drunkenly against his greedy lips. Not on the drinks at the bar, but drunk on love, or whatever it is. It’s more than lust what we feel.

He retreats himself and the moment is gone, “what makes you think we’ll see each other again?”

I look at him confused. 

He fiddles with my hands that he has draped over his lap and continues, “what if we never say goodbye tonight? If… you want to stay the night at mine?”

What’s the worst that could happen, why not? Now that things between us are finally moving, I don’t want them to stop. 

I agree and his delicious, cherry-red lips curl into a smile, while an awed look swims in his pupils. He looks as gone as I feel. 

He finally reaches out to turn the engine key and the car purrs to life. I lean my head against the window and watch the sleeping city pass by. The empty streets void of people while we cruise is like a vision of a dream, like it’s just us two in the world tonight. Speaking of, in what world did today happen? This doesn’t feel like the same world I used to struggle in, living feels and comes as easy as breathing now with him. 

We drive and drive, until the scenario changes to something I recognize. We must be close to his apartment. From here I can see the park bench where we had that talk a while ago, when we agreed on staying as friends and he kind of broke my heart for the first time when he told me he needed time, and there was no certainty of anything. The place sparks up unpleasant memories in me. 

He seems to notice it too and taunts me, “you want to sit there? Reminisce with me a little bit?”

“If you do that I’ll break up with you!” slips out of my mouth. My big, stupid mouth. Can’t take my big, stupid mouth anywhere these days. Never in a million years I should have said that. 

“I mean… I don’t know what I mean,” I finally admit when he’s fallen silent. I really don’t know. We never said the D-word, dating, again since that day at the park, ironically. Not until now. We haven’t even established that, there’s no label on us that says we are exclusive. That’s a talk for another day. 

Alex finally opens his mouth and laughs, “I think you do. I know what that meant. You will break up with me.”

As he recalls those words back to me, I cringe so hard at myself. 

“No, seriously. I didn’t mean it like that,” I try to save face. Just when we agreed to take these few days slow, I go and announce it to him that in my head we are a couple. Leave it to me to mess up this bad. 

“I mean,” he seems to be enjoying putting me on the spot like this, “I don’t know how many ways there are to break up with someone.”

I sink into the seat, trying to be hide in plain sight. I hope he would let it go, but I know he won’t. Especially when he lays his hand on my thigh while driving with the other. Now we must look like a couple. A couple of pining people, if nothing else. 

“Now you want to get shy?” he asks, “would you still feel as shy if I said I kind of don’t want to wait anymore either?”

“With what?” 

He doesn’t even hesitate to speak and also doesn’t let go of me, but still holds my thigh in place, “fuck it, let’s make it official. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you want me as much as I want you. I want you in a way that allows us to be together. So, what do you say?“

My face gets hot. It’s what he does to me when he’s this blunt. 

“I would love that,” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I have a feeling these four words will be the most important ones I will ever say. 

He smirks, “great! Uh—I would love to make this more romantic and shit, but…”

“You did this, technically, on my birthday, so I think it’s pretty romantic and great already. And I think it’s kind of us to just be spontaneous. It was perfect.”

He parks the car, “with the way you’re throwing all this praise my way, are you sure you can wait until we’re out of the car before you jump my bones?”

I try to duck my head down to hide my face, but he leans in and presses a single, seductive peck on the side of my jaw, before winking at me and exiting the car, before hurrying to my side to open the door for me.  I am definitely falling. 

.

“So, that’s how we got here,” I tell his friends in the kitchen, the luminous afternoon glow radiating through the window, illuminating our faces. Ever since the night when we—in his words, made it official—things have gone great. He had to leave the day after, but then eventually came back home from Mexico and told me he’s here to stay. So, life is sweet. It’s all like a dream, but the only difference is that I’m awake. 

What it comes to his friends: Karl, Punz and Foolish especially, the night I blacked out wasn’t thankfully the first and the last time I saw them. I had another chance of redeeming myself. We’ve hung out as a group a few times, like we are currently doing, and they are dying to know how exactly did we end up here. 

And, I am glad to tell them. Over and over again, as many times as they want to listen. 

I get up to walk to the fridge to fetch a drink, and notice Alex standing in the kitchen, preparing me a snack I didn’t ask for, but know I need. He’s sweet like that, making sure I eat and offers to make me something whenever he can tell I don’t have the energy to make it myself. It’s scary, how well he knows me already, but I can say the same about him. I think that’s how you know you have found your person. 

Alex purposely gently nudges and bumps me, just as I walk past him, “oh! Woah! Is this like our love story? Like in the old days?”

It takes me back to when we used to do that. 

He seemed to be finished with the dishes and stepped to his right where I was, and our bodies had another collision, I think this being the worst one yet. Like we’re used to it already and know the route out of the awkwardness, we just laugh it off. I don’t understand what the universe is trying to tell me to do right now, because it seems like every move I decide for myself to make is wrong. 

I understand now that the wait is over why it had to happen. It was painfully awkward to even look at him afterwards, but I would do it all over again if it meant that we would still have our happy ending. 

“Oh, shut up!” I scold him through my smile and in return, push him back with my hand. 

He grabs the hand I’m holding out and pulls my whole body against his instead and tells me he will never stop, pulling me into a kiss to seal the deal. He belongs with me, and there's never a day when he doesn't make me feel the same.

THE END.

[agenttexsflippedshit]

As someone who almost got got by a job listing scam, here are some friendly reminders:

1. The job interview will not take place over a chat platform, these people want to hear your voice and see your face. Zoom interviews are fine here but still be wary.

2. Call the goddamn business that’s hiring you to verify the job listing. Even if it’s a front desk person, they’ll likely be able to tell you if it’s a scam that they’ve been made aware of.

3. Don’t accept any money from anyone, and don’t pay them money to apply. There is no reason money should be changing hands before you’ve 1) met in person, 2) signed the onboarding paperwork, and 3) did some work.

“But Roni you’re so smart! How did you fall into this trap?” Simple panic, my friends! I’ve been in Hyper Anxiety Mode since the middle of September! I’m losing my job this month! As strange as it is, I’ve never been on unemployment before and being jobless makes me feel like a waste of space! (This is not to be indicative of anyone else facing joblessness. I’m simply saying that because it’s Me it’s Different because I’m worth less than the average man.) (Nobody is hiring social media managers in Nebraska rn that want my qualifications.) (and if I wanted to leave the state I’d just move to Las Vegas with the company and try to live off my pittance there.)

So if you have further tips, please share. I know plenty of people getting laid off and walking away from bad jobs right now, but don’t let that desperation turn you into a fool.

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Setting Up

Title: Setting Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Music Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Stress about a school year starting, low-self esteem (connected with job as a teacher), mentions of teachers doing unpaid labor to get their classrooms ready

Summary: School is starting up again and Y/N is frazzled about setting up her classroom. Luckily, Steve is ready to jump in and help in any way he can.

A/N: I wrote this for myself, but I hope you enjoy it too. It’s technically a music teacher AU, but I feel it could easily apply to a lot of different kinds of teachers. For the sake of this AU, “rep” is a shortened version of “repertoire”, which are the songs that you learn and perform for concerts. As always, thank you for all your support when it comes to reading, liking, reblogging, commenting, and supporting me on Patreon and ko-fi! Dividers are by @firefly-graphics​

June comes and goes in a haze of post-lunch naps, binge watching, and long evening walks with Steve. July moves even quicker with its rolling storms and deceitful promises of endless summer. By the time the countdown to the start of school reaches the single digits, you’ve done almost nothing to prepare for the school year and though you wouldn’t change anything about how you’ve spent your summer, you still loathe yourself for it.

A week from the first of your back-to-school teacher meetings, Steve comes home from the compound to find you sitting in the living room with your current show playing on TV and stacks of sheet music splayed across the couch cushions, coffee table, and floor. The papers form a semi-circle around you, completely preventing you from moving out of your spot in the center of the couch.

“What are you working on?” he asks as he shuts and locks the door.

You look up with tired eyes and a sigh. “I’m trying to pick rep,” you tell him. “I’ve got it narrowed down but I’m not sure.”

“Do you need to pick concert music now? Isn’t it easier to wait until you know what kids you have in class?”

As he asks, Steve carefully tucks the bag containing his shield underneath the skinny table you bought a few weeks ago, then leans it against the wall. You’d purposefully got one wide enough so his bag would fit underneath, and he dutifully follows your instructions to the tee, knowing that having order at home is important when your life at school gets chaotic. Plus, he tries to leave work at work. He’s always promised to be fully present with you whenever he’s home, no matter what’s going on outside the four walls of your little ranch house. He isn’t perfect—there are days when you spend most of dinner listening to him explain his frustrations and worries over the current group of trainees or an upcoming mission—but the fact that he tries means more than anything.

“Not really, but it’s helpful if I do. I don’t want to waste time. I don’t want to waste their time. Kids can tell if you’re not prepared, and I want to make this year better than last year. I want to be better than last year.”

“You’ll be prepared,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be better, you’re already exactly what those kids need.”

You huff, not even pretending to entertain that thought as you shuffle the music around. After flipping through one of the pieces, you decide it isn’t a good fit for the students you hope are enrolled again, then set it aside. Steve’s watching you—you can feel his curious gaze without even turning around—and so you continue to work as he processes.

Finally, he asks, “What can I do to help?”

A little surprised at the question, you shift in your spot to look back at him. Your knee presses into a stack of possible Christmas pieces but you ignore the crumpling noise the papers make as you push them into the couch.

“What?” you ask.

“What can I do to help? I don’t like it when you’re stressed out and I want you to be able to enjoy the rest of your summer, and the weekends once school actually starts,” adds Steve.

You frown, looking down at the music all around you, though you keep your arm braced on the back of the couch. It’s a generous offer and one you’ve secretly been hoping for, but Steve doesn’t know the first thing about teaching in a school. He also doesn’t know anything about music; he can barely hold a tune to save his life. That severely limits the things he can help you with, and you’ll feel bad if you have to redo something he does for you out of genuine kindness. Plus, no one has ever offered to help you before. Even your family has left you to your own devices at the start of every school year.

“As much as I’d love your help,” you carefully start, hoping you won’t offend him by declining his offer, “There’s not a lot you can do. A lot of it you won’t know how to do and a lot of it isn’t really a two-person job. I mean, I’ve got to pick rep, print out rosters, make copies, make seating charts, organize and decorate my rooms—“

“I could help with decorating.”

“Steve—“

“I can,” he insists. He continues before you can protest any further, “I know how much stuff you need to bring back to your rooms and I remember you complaining about not being able to make the bulletin boards as nice as you wanted them by yourself. I don’t know anything about music, but I’m pretty handy with scissors and a stapler, Y/N. Let me at least help with that. I can do the boards while you do other stuff, and I don’t mind carrying in boxes from your car and then keeping you company if that’s all I can help with.”

He’s so genuine it makes your heart ache. There’s no way you can say no to him, so you nod. Steve’s responding smile lights up the whole room and you laugh, leaning back against the couch cushions to accept the kiss he bends down to give you.

“Tomorrow?” he asks, and you nod again. “I’ll let Pepper know I won’t be around. She’ll remember more than Tony will. What school do you want to work at first?”

“Um… Let’s start at the elementary. How was work today? Are you hungry? I can make something.” You start to get up, but Steve places a gentle hand on your shoulder to slow your ascent.

“You don’t need to cook for me, Y/N. We can just order something.”

You frown. “But it’s summer, and I—”

“And you’re working unpaid time to prepare for the school year,” Steve finishes.

You let him push you back down to sit on the couch, knowing he’s right. You’ve been at war with yourself all day—should you work on school stuff when school’s not in session, even though you’re not paid for it, or should you hold off on your preparations because working unpaid overtime is unfair?

Steve seems to sense this internal debate because he leans down to kiss you again, then pulls out his phone. “What do you want tonight? Pizza? Chinese? Greek? We had Italian last night, so I’d rather not have that again.” 

“Greek sounds good,” you answer, smiling up at him. “Thanks.”

He hums in acknowledgement and heads towards the bedroom, no doubt on his way to shower the day away. You listen to him move around, relaxing against the back of the couch as the TV drones on. In the other room, Steve’s phone chimes when the confirmation email for the phone order comes through, then again when he puts it on the charger. He turns the shower on and it squeals a little—something he’s promised to fix once his load at work lightens up, even though you both know it never will.

You get back to work as the shower door slides open, then closes, and you’re three-quarters of the way through your big stack of potential concert songs when the doorbell rings for your food. Before you can even adjust the dozens of tiny paper stacks around you to answer it, Steve is at the door, fully dressed but with hair dripping onto his shoulders. 

While he tips the delivery driver and unloads the food onto your kitchen counters, you tidy up the living room, compiling your music into one larger, precarious stack that you balance on the floor against the TV stand. 

“How much tzatziki do you want?” Steve calls.

You stand from your crouch and stretch, groaning when your back cracks. After hours of sitting on the couch and floor today, your whole body is stiff. Steve sticks his head around the corner of the kitchen when you don’t reply and you look over at him with a grimace.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Reaching out with both arms, you wiggle your fingers at him until he knowingly chuckles and comes closer, then pulls you into a hug. Steve squeezes you against him, using only what you know to be a modicum of his strength, and you sigh in relief when your back pops. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. Steve kisses the top of your head and loosens his grip to hold you in a gentle embrace. “How was your day?”

“It was okay,” he answers. “Mostly just meetings and paperworks. I’d much prefer spending the day with you while you’re home all day.”

You hum in response and close your eyes. Being in his arms is one of your favorite ways to recover after a long day at school, and now that you’re getting back into the swing of things, you’re relishing it even more than normal.

“Tzatziki?”

Snorting, you pull away to look up at him. “Are you hungry?”

Steve grins. “What gave it away?”

With a pat to his chest, you release him completely and head to the kitchen. The food is spread out across all the open counters and the stove top, and you can’t help but chuckle at the pure amount of containers Steve has ordered. It’s more than usual, which means he’s either anticipating that you’ll be stealing his food, that you won’t be able to decide, or that he’s monumentally more hungry than normal.

“All this for me? You shouldn’t have,” you tease, glancing over your shoulder as Steve follows you.

He laughs and runs his hand over the small of your back as he strides past you to pull plates down from the top cabinet. You take the one he holds out to you, and the two of you get to work dishing up your dinners. He makes sure to heap your favorite foods onto your plate before he takes his own serving, and you do the same.

Finally, you and Steve settle side-by-side on the couch. Your show has long since finished playing, and the screen asking if you were still watching stares back at you as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table.

“Let’s find something new,” you say. Balancing your plate, utensils, and napkin in one hand, you shift on the couch until your thighs are pressed against his. He smiles and as soon as he’s put on a show neither of you have seen before, Steve props his feet up on the coffee table, places his plate on his lap, and puts his free hand on your leg. The familiarity is soothing, and within a few minutes you’ve forgotten all of your worries about the school year starting.

The next morning, Steve is up before you, and by the time you finally drag yourself out of bed after snoozing the alarm several times—a bad habit you’ll have to break before the school year begins—he has breakfast ready and all your school stuff already loaded in the car.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you tell him as he hands you a plate piled high with your favorites. You’re honestly surprised you didn’t wake up while he was cooking, considering how good the house smells right now. “I’m not even sure if I’ll want to use it all. We’ll just have to bring it all back in if we don’t use it.”

He shrugs. “Then I’ll bring it in when we get home. I’d rather you have everything you need and then some than have you worry about not having enough,” he says.

Steve’s dedication to helping you prepare for the school year runs deeper than you’d originally realized and you have to look away before all of your emotions about it shine through. You aren’t quite awake enough to keep your composure every time he does something sweet.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” you reassure him. Smiling a little, you force away the overwhelming gratitude and settle for a kiss on his cheek instead. “Thank you. I already don’t know how I did this without you for so many years. You’ve already saved me at least an hour of time, maybe two, depending on how much stuff is leftover when I’m done.”

“Good, then you’ve got plenty of time to sit down and eat,” he replies. He guides you over to the table and pulls out a chair. “I’m gonna do a coffee run and check in with Pepper to make sure everything’s all good, and I’ll be back in a half hour. Is that enough time for you to eat and get ready?”

You nod and smile, then settle down at the table to eat. Steve grabs a foil-wrapped burrito that’s no doubt his second breakfast before heading out the front door, leaving you to eat alone.

Once finished, you quickly rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then change into comfortable work clothes and get yourself ready for the day. You’re just zipping up your bag when Steve walks back in the door with a drink tray in hand. The wide-open door lets a flood of summer sunshine into the living room, and Steve looks like an angel as the golden rays peek out from behind him.

“I got your favorite,” he announces, and you smile wide when he hands you your drink. You take a long sip, then nod in approval. He laughs. “Everything’s right?”

You take another sip just for good measure, humming in contentment. “It’s perfect, Steve. You ready to go?”

When he nods, you grab your bag and the stacks of music that didn't fit inside, then follow him out to the car. Sure enough, all of the boxes and bags of stuff you’d brought home with you in May and the purchases that accumulated over the summer are neatly packed in the back of his Stark-issued SUV, and he already has one of your favorite high-energy playlists on. The AC is blasting, ensuring that the car isn’t hot when you climb in, and the wave of cold air that hits you is accompanied by another wave of utter love for him. You try to tell him every day how much you love him, but as you buckle up, you push away thoughts of your classroom in an attempt to brainstorm ways to show him your love even more profoundly.

Steve immediately starts unloading things after you arrive at the school. As you gather your belongings from around your seat, you glance in the side mirror. Steve’s arms are piled high with boxes and there are multiple bags swinging from each arm. It’s almost comical.

You’re barely out of the passenger side door when he closes the trunk and turns in the director of the building’s entrance.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod as you dig your ID and keys out of your bag. With Steve following behind, you head inside to your classroom. You hold the doors for him, and though you offer to take the elevator to your room, he shakes his head and turns toward the stairs to the second floor. He’s been to your classroom a few times before, but never to help you set up. It has a different feel to it.

There’s something intimate about letting someone you love see your classroom for the first time. You spend so much time in that room and you spend so much of your energy making it feel like a second home for you and the students at your school. The first time Steve ever came to visit you at work, your stomach was in knots over what he’d think of your room. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t care if it was perfectly tidy or if the decor all matched, but his opinion is important to you and you desperately wanted him to love the space as much as you did. Now, even though he’s seen already been here a handful of times, it’s a whole new level of vulnerability. He’s seeing it without all the decor and frills that you add throughout the school year, and if you’re being honest, you’re a little nervous about what he’ll think once he sees the bare bones of your room. Will he think you’re fulfilling all its possible potential? Will he think that you’re doing enough?

The halls are empty except the two of you, but you know that there’s other teachers and staff members tucked away somewhere. The last few weeks of summer are usually filled with plenty of projects, decorating, and preparation for the upcoming open house and the first day of school. It’s almost as exhausting as teaching itself. As you walk, you decide to leave your door closed so that you can play your music as loud as you want without seriously disturbing anyone else who’s trying to work.

Steve carefully sets down the things he’d brought in as soon as you have the door open, making sure that they’re out of your way. 

“I’m gonna head down and get the rest,” he says, and you hand off your keys and ID so that he can get in. “Do you need anything unpacked right away?” He glances down at the pile on the floor, then at you for confirmation.

You shake your head and watch him go, then dig out your phone and the speaker you’d purposefully packed into your personal bag. After a little bit of searching, you find the perfect playlist, and you set both things aside so that you’re free to work. 

Getting your room ready is a little bit daunting, and you don’t quite feel prepared to tackle any of it. There are bulletin boards to arrange and set up, including plenty of lamination you need to cut out, and you want to make sure that your reward center is ready for the family open house on Friday. Plus, you still need to plan out the lessons you’ll teach the first few days, rearrange your furniture, and get instruments and supplies out of storage. Even your desk is barren; you’d had to tuck everything away so that all the surfaces could be cleaned.

Sighing, you close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath, just like you tell your students to do whenever they’re getting overwhelmed. Steve walks in as you’re doing this, and when you open your eyes, he’s watching you. His eyebrows furrow together and the corners of his lips are turned down in a slight frown. He knows something’s wrong, even if he doesn’t know what, and you catch him taking a quick survey of your room to make sure it’s not something he can easily fix or remove.

“What’s going on?” he asks. His voice is gentle; you know he won’t judge you if you tell him how you’re feeling about this, and so you give him a weak smile in an attempt to make yourself seem less stressed than you actually are.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I’m just really overwhelmed. I don’t think I’m quite ready to let go of summer yet. There’s six million things I have to get done, and I don’t really want to do any of them, which makes me feel like a horrible teacher. I didn’t do anything I should’ve over the summer, which makes me feel even worse. Don’t get me wrong, I like my job, but I’m so stressed out all year and I wanted a break. Plus, it’s hard to jump right back in like this, especially since I know I’m not getting paid to be here and to work all day in my classroom,” you admit. You perch against the edge of your desk and sip your drink to give yourself a moment. With your other hand, you turn down the music a few notches. The song is upbeat, and it’s just a little too much right now. “There’s so much to do before Friday, and I don’t feel like I’m going to be ready even if I manage to get everything done on time. And on top of that, I feel bad because you took the day off to help, which you didn’t need to do, and I know that you want to help and that you want me to be less stressed, but it’s not like this is the funnest thing in the world to be doing during the summer.” You gesture around the room with your cup.

Steve sets down the second load he’s carried up from the car, then shuts the door to your room. He stands by the pile he’s made for a moment, staring down at it with his hands on his hips, before he lifts his head and crosses the room to sit beside you on the desk. You’re honestly surprised it holds both your weights combined.

“You don’t need to be perfect,” he says, taking your free hand in his. He rests them on his thigh and you focus on the way his fingers intertwine with yours as he continues, “Your kids don’t need perfection. They don’t need you to get every single thing done before they come to class. They need you to show them how to be kind and how to make mistakes, and how to be respectful when they disagree. They need you to show them how to solve problems and be creative and how to have fun, and you’re amazing at all those things, Y/N.”

You smile a little and try not to get weepy-eyed at his praise. “Steve…”

“I mean it,” he insists. Gently, he lifts your chin with one crooked finger. When you meet his eyes, he holds your gaze intently. “You are the exact teacher that they need. You’re here for a reason, Y/N, and we’re gonna get you ready together, you and me, okay?”

Nodding, you sniffle and let him guide your head forward so he can kiss you on the forehead.

“Thank you. I needed that,” you murmur.

Steve squeezes your hand, then brings it up so he can press a kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no place I’d rather be today than here with my girl. Alright?” When you nod, he smiles. “You want me to start unpacking stuff so you can see it all laid out?”

You survey the daunting pile, still truly unsure of where to begin, before standing on your feet again and releasing his hand. “No, I think I want to unpack one thing at a time, but maybe you could start putting the new paper up on the boards? There’s scissors, uh…” You turn in a circle, trying to remember where you’d stashed your scissors and stapler at the end of the last school year, but Steve puts a hand on your arm to stop you.

“I’ll find them, Y/N, don’t worry. You get working on unpacking and getting your instruments out.”

Ever grateful once again, you give him a smile and head to the pile to get to work. He turns the music up before beginning to rifle through your desk drawers to find what he’ll need to help you decorate.

With you and Steve working together, you get more work done in a handful of hours than you typically would get done in an entire day. He makes it fun, too. Steve sings along to all your playlists, pulls you aside for dance breaks when he can tell you’re getting frustrated or overwhelmed, helps you move the bulkier instruments exactly where you want them, and he even goes out to bring back lunch from your favorite restaurant in town. Of course, he gets stuck in conversation with the principal and the gym teacher on his way back in, but he goes out, all the same. You simply pull him away with a smile, linking your arm with his as Steve makes half-hearted promises to visit the two men to discuss their latest golf game. You have to hold back a snicker at the idea of Steve playing golf.

You have a picnic on the floor of your room, and Steve changes the music to one of his own playlists. It’s film scores—he may not be able to carry a tune, but he appreciates the music that accompanies the hundreds of thousands of movies he’s still catching up on. One of your favorite memories of him is the first time you watched a movie in theaters together. You hadn’t known it was his first time in a 21st century theater, and he’d been utterly mesmerized by everything you encountered, from the digital ticketing system and concessions to the reclining seats and the enormous screens. Altogether, you’d seen five movies that day, back to back to back. He’d loved every single of them.

Steve leans over and kisses you when you recount this memory to him over your lunch. It makes your heart soar when you realize that for the first time in a long time, you’ll have happy memories of your time setting up, rather than stressful ones. As he kisses you, the orchestra swells over the speaker, and Steve is so loving that you feel for a moment that you could actually be a movie of your very own.

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[whataboutsimple]

Hello again! I’m here to ask more questions and collect ideas for fanfiction

So, Lukas. Where’d you find Dewey? Was he hard to tame? Any shenanigans from the little guy?

Elegaard, do you own/are you interested in owning pets? Also, other than Olivia, have you ever had an assistant?

Jack/Nurm! How’d you meet?

(And Nurm, are any of the stories Jack tells actually true?)

And finally, Radar!! My favorite guy How did you become Jesse’s intern?

Sorry for so many questions!! Please feel free to split this into multiple parts.

//Start of the recording//

Lukas tapped his hands on the knees — "Ah, well- you see, I never really tamed him? To be honest, I was just wandering around jungles and decided to fish. It was quite fun! But, uh- creeper approached me from the back so I did what any normal person would do - run. I forgot my fishing rod there, so after five minutes or so I've got back and saw little oceletos eating my fish."

Lukas scratched the back of his head — "I'm not sure why he didn't run away, but I think he just connected the blocks, understanding that I'm kind of a source of the food? It's like.. I went home and he was following me, but everytime I tried to, like, touch him, he hissed, so I dropped the attempts. First few days he just kind of was there, randomly approaching me if I had fish- than he once appeared in the house and never left."

Lukas shrugged — "He's pretty grumpy from time to time and I need lots of bandages to cover little scratches he does, but other than that he's cute little guy."

Frame changes to Ellegaard sitting on the couch.

"Owning a pet would be a great waste of resources and time, which both I can't afford." — she adjusted her work-glasses — "As for Olivia, no, I've never had an assistant before. It was as much of a waste as a pet, it's easier to be productive when no noisy people are around you, especially after the fiasco with Old Order-" — she suddenly closed her mouth, looking down — "However, having Olivia around is nice change of things.. she's a good and smart girl. I believe she has a great future, with the right guidance of course."

Frame changes to Jask almost laying in the couch, hands behind the back.

"Ah! That's quite an interesting story! You see, both me and Sammy were friends before we met Vos or Nurm. And they were friends before they met us as well! So, it was a very hot day.. we just got back from raiding a desert temple, clenching onto our dear lives after we've met those cadavers. No water, no food, only endless sand.. that's, until we approached a small village! It was like an oasis, out tired bodies moving purely on enthusiasm from finding life! Some villagers met us, brought to their cleric and helped to gain back the strength. The next day we were ready to move, so youn' cartographer made us a map! But.. it's a desert, so it was hard reading it. The head of the village decided to let the cartographer show us the way, and their local adventurerer said he's going with him. That's how we all met! Ah, good ol' days.."

Frame changes to Nurm sitting on the couch. He made some villager noises.

(..dang it-)

The screen glitches, before showing Nurm and Gabriel sitting on the couch. Nurm makes some villagers noises again.

Gabriel turns to the camera — "He says most of it is true, even though Jack loves to embellish his stories."

Nurm makes noises again.

"Most of their adventures were just wandering from temple to temple making maps."

Yet again, villager noises.

"But some of them were as exciting as Jack tells. Though no one really called him the nicknames he spells."

Frame changes to Radar, nervously tapping his fingers.

"Hm.. actually- I've applied to this job mostly to piss off Stella.. I didn't expect to be recruited. Before that I was living in Champion City, only because my parents were there, so it only made sense for me to be too. However I've never actually owned Stella anything, so when she broke my last nerve, I moved to BeaconTown. That was the time Jesse was trying to find themselves a helper, cause ruling the whole town was becoming a bit too hard, and being emotional, I send an application. And actually got hired. Fantastical. I didn't even knew what type of a person Jesse were before this, but after.." — he sighted with a smile — "I think it was the best decision I ever made."

//End or the recording//

Don't worry, both me and our director Dimple Totallynotsimple love the questions! Feel free to ask more!