#ceiling paint that changes color as it dries

[storiesoflilies]

hiraeth

synopsis: the story of two broken souls trying to heal themselves by finding solace in each other and the mysteries of the universe, until shadows from the past threaten everything. the follow up to metanoia. w.c: 18.5k.

pairings: toji fushiguro x f!reader / satoru gojo x f!reader.

warnings: ANGST! sfw, descriptions of grief, mentions of death, the healing journey, a touch of satosugu vibes. there are fluff and wholesome moments, i promise.

a/n: it’s finally here! just in time for me n my most beloved blorbo’s birthday :3 i hope you all enjoy this story, and that the ending is everything you’ve been hoping for. it’s been so fun returning to this au! @gothsuguru this one’s for you bestie <3

art / art / divider / playlist / ao3

there was a certain comfort to be found in absolute silence.

it was warm, precious, and free from any judgement in a way that nothing else in the world could be. at that time, to be consumed in its invisible, molten core of gold felt wonderful. her mind was free from all the music and the dancing numbers and the scratching of the angels’ quills on their scrolls.

and it was silent when toji fushiguro left her.

so maybe, it was in silence that he would come back to her.

that’s what she wanted to believe.

but it was all nothing but a foolish, hopeless dream of a lover.

she could not recall most of that summer, no matter how hard she tried. it was lost in a haze of salty tears and the smoke of dreamless sleep. but she remembered the dull ache in her bones, the heaviness pressing down on her chest, crushing her cracking, splintering spine into the bed.

she had no fight in her to resist any of it – not anymore.

there wasn’t much she could do but lie there, like ice melting against the salt of her dried tears, seeping into every stitch and loose thread in the sheets.

there wasn’t much of the world left anymore, either.

there was only a white ceiling and the yellowing, dirty bed linens. the steady drip! drip! drip! of the kitchen sink, and the dull smell of a very tired, stale room that she couldn’t even recall ever holding any happiness within its walls.

everything that had once made her who she had already dissipated long ago into the atmosphere, leaving nothing behind but the white noise that filled her ears with the silent screams of angels.

let them.

let them scream, let them cry.

she hated them all.

she hated the green tea she used to drink, and the stupid, big ceramic mugs she had poured it into, and all the numbers and letters that led her here, and vanilla ice cream dripping down, down, down onto the pavement, and shaving razors and–

a violent sob caught in her throat, nearly choking her on her own admission.

that she hated toji fushiguro too.

she didn’t even have to try and solve for any sort of equation to arrive to that answer.

somebody, please help me.

and that was all she remembered of that summer, before her phone lit up with a call.

| Φ |

“i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

| Φ |

the cafe hadn’t changed much at all over the summer.

there was some new artwork done by students at the university hanging on the walls. they were all different sizes and colors, with no particular theme connecting any of them to each other. there was also a new bell hanging above the the entrance door. it was a much louder bell, not at all delicate or mellow like the last one.

she much preferred it that way.

there were too many memories in the old one’s tune.

she was currently staring holes into a piece of art hanging on the wall behind the cash register. it was hard to decipher if there was supposed to be any hidden meaning beneath the seemingly random swirls of red and bold blue brushstrokes of what looked like oil paint to her. no, maybe it was acrylic?

she clicked her tongue, already giving up on trying to guess.

a customer entered the shop, and she was sharply reminded of what her manager had said to her not even an hour ago.

“don’t forget to smile sometimes, yeah?”

they had said it sympathetically – sheepishly, even – because it came from a place of shameful embarrassment of having to even say it in the first place. of course, she knew they meant well, but it was the not so hidden implication of it all that echoed through her head like the memory of the old bell above the door.

she wasn’t who she used to be anymore, and she certainly wasn’t doing very well at all.

and everyone had seemed to notice.

she swallowed down the stone stuck in her throat and quickly went about making the customer’s order, forcing a smile on her face in the hopes it would just make him go away faster. it wasn’t fair to the customer, she knew that, but she couldn’t help how she felt.

any sort of human interaction was just so unbelievably tiresome for her now.

towards the end of the summer, she made the split-second decision to pursue a master’s degree in physics. she didn’t know what else to do, but two things were certain: she couldn’t go back home, and she couldn’t bring herself to find a proper job. her mind was far too numb for either of those things, lost in a fog that weighed down heavy on her entire being. she had no energy to network or put up false pleasantries to build any sort of meaningful connections both in and out of the workplace.

so, when she got the call back from her manager that she could stay on at the cafe, everything seemed to conveniently fall into place. no one could argue with what she was doing. she was furthering her education and saving more money by taking the course part-time.

and that was exactly what she wanted – to be bothered as little as possible.

deep breath in…

as she handed the customer his order in a pale-green styrofoam cup.

and out.

that was how she got through every interaction, day after day.

because if she could survive for long enough, then maybe – just maybe – she could begin to claw her way out of the crumbling black hole of obsidian she was buried under.

she hoped.

the doorbell rang out loudly.

she looked up sharply, and put on the best smile that she could muster, so much that her cheeks almost hurt.

it was the owner of the shop.

what– why are they here?

and then, a star walked in.

she sucked in a breath.

no, it was just a boy. a boy who looked like a star that had just fallen down from the heavens. all blues and pearly, fluffy hair and teeth shining in the brightest, most perfect smile she had ever seen in her whole life. he must have been born from a blue nebula, she thought, because he was so wonderfully rare, unlike anything or anybody else at all.

she could have sworn she heard the sound of a quill tapping against the side of an ink pot.

| Φ |

“you don’t have share anything you don’t want to. just say whatever feels right for you.”

| Φ |

the boy’s name was satoru gojo, and he was the owner’s nephew.

“he’s just transferred from a university in tokyo,” they’d said, with a proud, hushed reverence in their voice when they whispered the last word.

she could only nod along silently, pretending to be impressed, while all she was really thinking was why on earth he would transfer from a probably prestigious university to come here of all places.

it didn’t really matter; satoru was here now.

and he was her new colleague.

the extra interactions she had to handle on a daily basis were absolutely bone wearying. teaching him how to use the coffee machine, where all the ingredients and cleaning supplies were kept, and how to lock up the cafe for the night. it was all just too much; she hadn’t signed up for any of this. the next two years were supposed to be as easy as they possibly could be.

but more than anything, it was satoru and his irritatingly perky attitude that got on her nerves the most.

it wasn’t fair to him at all, and she knew it, but she couldn’t help the nagging, grating annoyance he made her feel. his chirpy voice was like nails on a chalkboard, scraping away at her already thin patience. and then there was him, with his stupidly good looks that made every customer that came in through the door do a double take.

more than that, it was the way satoru had the gall to pretend he didn’t enjoy it – when he obviously did.

no, that wasn’t the worst thing of all.

it was the way that satoru persistently attempted to get to know her. it confused her to no end, haphazardly cutting through the endless haze of brain fog, because she couldn’t understand for the life of her why someone like him would ever want to know someone like her.

“so,” he began one day, the autumn sunset filtering through the window. “you study physics too?”

too?

her manager must have been running their mouth, again.

she cleared her throat, putting down the damp cloth she’d been using to clean the cash register. “yeah, uh– you too, huh?”

satoru smiled that signature lopsided smile of his. “second year.”

when she only nodded silently, picking up her cloth again to silently signal she wasn’t interested in continuing conversation, he pressed on anyways. “yeah, i heard you’re doing your master’s now too. you must be really enjoying it.”

the last part was more of a question than a statement to her.

“sure,” she replied flatly, perhaps even snappily, and satoru’s smile faltered slightly.

a strange pang of guilt struck her that only got worse as the silence between them stretched on uncomfortably. she squirmed in her seat, aggressively rubbing her cloth between every nook and cranny of the register, while satoru busied himself cleaning the coffee machine, uncharacteristically quiet.

finally, she couldn’t stand the awkwardness anymore, and put down her cloth with a sigh as she swiveled in her seat to face him.

“so, are you enjoying it?” she asked quietly, her gaze dropping to the dried skin around her cuticles.

“sorry, what?”

“are you enjoying your course?”

“oh, yeah i am, actually,” he replied, a twinkle in his cerulean eyes as he laughed heartily. she suddenly felt quite warm. “i’m quite the genius.”

“oh, really?”

from then on, he wouldn’t – or, rather he couldn’t – shut up about it. it was like the floodgates had opened, and he went on about anything and everything that sprang to his mind. how he was planning on solving all the unknown theories of the universe, like he was planning on plucking the answers straight from the stars. the more she listened to him, watching the way his lips moved animatedly, the more she believed that if anybody could do it, it was him.

strangely enough, she found that she actually liked listening to satoru gojo talk.

but what struck her the most was how he was like her – and more. she knew that if he wanted to become one of the greats, he would.

if he wasn’t already, that is.

for the first time in what felt like years, she felt her lips curve into a genuine smile.

| Φ |

“it’s okay to cry. you’re really brave for coming here, and i know it’s not easy taking this first step.”

| Φ |

they started studying together at the cafe during the quiet afternoons that stretched into the evenings.

there was the air of familiarity to it all, the same aura of memories she had of doing the same thing not so long ago with a vastly different boy. it brought an unbearably searing heat of anxiety straight to her stomach. she tried her best to shove those feelings deep down into a pit of pebbles, zoning out often and long enough that satoru would frantically wave his palm in front of her eyes.

“you’re doing it again,” he said, his head tilted, a heavy hardback textbook split open in his lap.

she blinked once, shook her head a little, and lightly tapped her cheek twice. “sorry,” she mumbled, then took a few sips from her mug of bitter black coffee, which had long since gone cold.

green tea was something she hasn’t touched since, well, that day.

satoru looked at her for a moment too long, a strange look crossing his face that she couldn’t decipher, before he buried his nose back in the book on his lap.

the sun had set quite some time ago, and the beginning of winter was already making the days so much shorter. only the warm glow of pale orange lamps filled the cafe, bathing anyone inside in a warm, cozy glow. there were no customers at the moment, much to her relief, probably because it was still the beginning of the semester and the students weren’t in cramming mode just yet.

another hot bubble of anxiety churned in her stomach, and she fought to keep from wincing as her heart started to race.

“so, how are you finding that book?” she blurted out, trying to distract herself.

satoru hummed thoughtfully. “it’s good, thanks for letting me borrow it. you’ve got good taste.”

she snorted, though it was somewhat strained, forced. “hah! well, thank you, i suppose.”

he looked up at her again, and she felt herself shrink just a little. she could never get used to his eyes no matter how hard she tried. they were unlike anything she had ever seen before, and the longer she stared into them, the more it felt like they multiplied into six eyes. it felt like he could see right through her and rummage through the mess of broken heartstrings and glass inside her, and know everything that had ever happened to her – and everything that ever would.

was he an angel?

maybe he was the one who had been trying to solve her equation this whole time.

she almost laughed at that.

don’t be ridiculous.

“you’re too good at this, you know?” satoru suddenly stated, closing the book over with one of his fingers wedged between the pages he had been reading.

she frowned. “what do you mean? physics?”

“yeah. you’re like me, you have a gift for all this. even when you don’t really care about it, you’re still good at it.”

she picked the edge of her finger. “i-uh, wait, what do you mean i don’t care about it anymore? i obviously do. i’m doing a masters for fuck’s sake.”

she didn’t know why she felt the need to lie about it or why she suddenly felt so defensive.

he was hitting a nerve, and he knew it.

satoru gave her a look, a smug smirk on his lips. “no, you don’t.”

“i do!”

“no. you don’t.”

“yes actually, i do.”

“you’re lying.”

“no, i’m not! why would i lie?”

“i dunno, you tell me.”

damn you, satoru gojo.

she bit her lip to stop it from wobbling. satoru’s face crumbled like tumbling stones, and his book dropped to the floor with a loud bang.

“hey, hey,” he rushed, standing up and nearly knocking his chair over behind him. “hey, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean- fuck! i’m so sorry.”

the delicate skin of her lip throbbed from how hard she was biting it, and she was sure it would bruise by tomorrow morning. she swallowed thickly, avoiding satoru and those stupid, all-seeing eyes of his.

“it’s fine,” she muttered, hoping the tears gathering in the corner of her eye wouldn’t spill in front of him. “i-uh, let’s just get ready to close, okay?”

satoru frowned, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to do.

in the end, he said nothing at all.

they quietly packed up their things, locked the door, and the bell sang them a sad goodbye tune as they walked their separate ways into the night.

| Φ |

“so, your friend told you to come here?”

“i-uh, more like made me. sorry.”

| Φ |

being alone wasn’t so unbearable for her anymore.

but it still wasn’t good.

she’d moved out of the two-bedroom apartment she’d shared with her old roommate soon after starting her master's. there was no point in paying for an extra room, and she certainly didn’t feel like living in close quarters with another human being. so, she moved into a studio apartment in the building next door.

it was… decent.

perfectly adequate, really. there was no peeling walls or mold anywhere, and it didn’t drain too much of her energy to keep it all somewhat clean. in the beginning, the smaller space was oddly comforting. she felt secure, like a little mouse in a tin box.

safer.

snugly enclosed within the walls of a home that hadn’t been tainted by old memories.

although, she still didn’t have much energy to cook. there had been too many things she'd wasted money on, too many things that had gone out of date that she had the unpleasant task of cleaning up before moving out. the employees at the 7-eleven across from the cafe had grown embarrassingly familiar with her as she bought cup after cup of instant ramen for her dinner every night for weeks during those first weeks after moving in.

one night, an employee – an older lady with obviously nothing better to do –finally said to her, “you know, there are fresh bento boxes on sale at the end of the day. it’s healthier than… this.”

she’d just sniffed at the woman, pushing her cup forward with a defiant jut of her chin. the lady had sighed, shaking her head as she scanned the noodles. when she arrived home, she took her shoes off and threw her keys onto the kitchen counter. she flicked the kettle on and walked over to her bed to change out of her clothes.

and that was when she saw it.

her reflection in the mirror.

god, she didn’t realize just how awful she looked. her skin was horrible, her eyes tired and sullen, probably from living off a diet of instant noodles with little to no water. she didn’t know why, but the sight shocked her to the core.

she knew she wasn’t doing well.

but, she just didn’t think she looked that tired.

from that night on, she bought the bento boxes on sale every night. the employee never bothered her again after that, just gave her a smug smile that told her everything she needed to know. the changes in her were small, barely noticeable, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

she hated to admit that the lady had been right.

but still, it wasnt a complete fix.

so here she was, quietly chewing on a bite of peppered beef and rice, doing her best to stifle her sobs as music played from the radio in the background.

she hadn’t meant to get so emotional, but it had gotten too overwhelming for her to handle. satoru and all his damn questions – why did this random boy from who knows where in the world manage to get under her skin so much? she barely even knew him at all. the only two things that tied them together was that cafe and physics, and even that was fragile at best.

it was almost like at the start with…

no.

she couldn’t even say his name in her head.

it was all absolutely pathetic – she was pathetic.

“even if you don’t really care about it, you’re still good at it.”

is that what her life was going to be from now on? living a lie? pretending that she cared about whatever it was she was doing, while on the inside, she was still falling down that infinite green hole the boy with a perfect scar on his lip had pushed her into.

she sniffled, tossing the now empty box into the bin.

when would it all end?

she just wanted to stop feeling so hopeless all the time. she wanted to be happy again, to hear the numbers and angels singing to her like they used to, to feel and be how she once was.

but everything was still so quiet.

and probably would be for a long time.

that was why being here, in her tiny box of a house, still felt like no home at all.

| Φ |

“do you want to start from the beginning?”

“not really, but sure.”

| Φ |

the next day, when she arrived at the cafe, satoru was already there waiting for her.

and he was so obviously nervous that it set her teeth on edge.

from the moment she caught sight of him from outside the window, she could tell something was off. he was behind the counter, his hands a blur as he poured coffee and punched the buttons on the cash register to hand customers their change. satoru must have been keeping an eye out for her, because the moment he spotted her through the glass, he froze.

a snowy deer caught in the headlights.

then, he gave her what was probably the most awkward, jerky wave she had ever recieved.

right up until she walked behind the counter to stand beside him, he was a jittery mess, his foot tapping incessantly as he waited for the two girls hovering in front the cash register to finish deciding what they wanted to have.

“hey!” he greeted, far too cheerily. his voice was a little high-pitched, a crack in it like chipped porcelain.

she blinked twice, slowly, as she tied a beige apron around her waist. “hi.”

one of the girls at the counter cleared her throat, clearly unimpressed that nobody was paying attention to them. satoru snapped back into reality, mumbled a half-hearted apology, and she hurriedly got started on making their drinks. meanwhile, satoru fumbled with the coins as one of the girls dropped them into his open palm.

this was all so unlike him.

he was always so smooth and confident, annoyingly so.

it felt almost wrong to see him like this.

but they continued in a fragile, comfortable silence, serving customers and cleaning up tables after they left. when it was golden hour and the shop was somewhat empty, satoru finally let out a great big breath, like he had been holding it in the whole time.

“sheesh!” he exclaimed, stretching his legs, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “that was so busy. how did you used to do this all by yourself?”

she gave him an amused look. “well, it wasn’t this busy a year ago. it’s gotten much more popular.”

satoru grinned, but it was tight, forced. “really? must be because of you and your great service.”

she didn’t know what to say, but she snorted, somewhat amused.

“hey, so uh… about last night,” he started, already stumbling over his words, but she quickly held up a hand to stop him.

“it’s all good, satoru,” she said firmly, trying her hardest to still be gentle. “i didn’t mean to get so emotional, so i’m sorry about that.”

he stared at her for a heartbeat longer, and she felt a strange flutter in her chest. she couldn’t stand the feeling, and got right back to adding more pink mooncakes to the clear display box at the counter. this time, it was her turn to keep an eye on him. satoru was breathing rapidly, his chest puffing and falling quickly, a peach-pink blush dusting the tips of his ears.

he looked positively miserable.

like he was absolutely bursting to say something but was holding back.

she bit her lip. “are you okay?”

satoru froze, his hand pausing from refilling the jar for the lids for the takeaway cups.

“yeah, i just-” he swallowed thickly, not quite looking at her. “i’m really sorry about yesterday.”

“is that all? i promise you, satoru, it’s all good.”

satoru fidgeted, his fingers rapidly tapping against a white lid. for a moment, neither of them moved, the low hum of a handful of customers conversing filling the air. a cup clinked loudly against a saucer, shattering the tension between them, and he inhaled sharply.

“i’m sorry if i push you too much,” satoru said softly, like he wasn’t sure whether he should even say it at all. “i don’t mean to.”

a stab of guilt pierced her heart.

it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t been pushing her out of her comfort zone. for the last few months, he had been nothing but persistently nice to her. anytime they crossed paths on campus, he always smiled and waved, pulling her into the orbit of his blue brightness, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. at first, she was convinced that he would get bored of her quickly, that he would find more interesting company to keep than hers.

so, she tried to ignore it when she could.

but satoru never let up, not even a bit.

when she wouldn’t wave back, turning her back instead, there would be a tap on her left shoulder, and satoru would pop out from her right, spooking her with a laugh that made it seem like he knew exactly what she was up to.

and he didn’t care or seem to mind.

whenever she was clearly making no move to initiate a conversation, he always did it for her.

and he’d always ask her how she was.

how her day had been, or if she’d slept well the night before whenever they worked a morning shift together. during their quiet study sessions at the cafe, he’d always ask her how her course was going. at first, she thought satoru was just trying to fill the silence, that he was restless – too full of energy that he didn’t know what to do with. but now, she saw that she had been wrong the whole time.

she’d been blinded by his eccentricity and her own self-wallowing to notice it before.

that satoru gojo had a big heart.

and for some reason, he genuinely cared about her. it might not have been hard to notice that she wasn’t okay, but he had – and had tried to fix it. little by little, their study sessions and conversations were slowly pulling her back to the version of herself she thought she would never get back.

“you weren’t… pushing me,” she said slowly.

satoru gave her a pointed look. “yes i was. you know i was, especially last night.”

“okay,” she laughed a little, and a small smile appeared on his face. “maybe just a little.”

they both spared a glance at each other and broke into a nervous fit of laughter. for a moment, it all seemed normal, but then their smiles fades, and the silence crept back in like a parasite, with the light in satoru’s eyes dying like a smothered candle.

“well, i promise not to bother you half as much anymore,” he huffed playfully, though his eyes shifted away from her face.

she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“i… don’t want that.”

satoru looked back up at her sharply.

“you don’t?”

“i just- i’m not… it’s hard for me to feel good about things anymore.”

but being around you has been the only good thing for me. you’re the only person who makes me feel even a little like how i used to.

she couldn’t bring herself to say that, though.

because, whether or not satoru had meant to push her so much didn’t matter anymore. she had now realized, with a particularly harsh slap of reality, how much she had needed it. her changes had been so small and gradual that she hadn’t even noticed them herself. she couldn’t even remember the day when she finally didn’t dread leaving the house anymore, only that it had just happened.

and the boy made from blue starlight had been a huge part of making that happen.

satoru was like an icicle suspended over the edge of a cliff. was it concern, or maybe even shock on his face? she clenched her fists, nails digging into her skin. she didn’t know what she would do if he decided she was just too much for him, too heavy a burden that he hadn’t signed up to carry. if satoru decided to let go and fall, she didn’t know what she would do. she’d be all alone again if he left, and she didn’t think she could survive it this time.

please, i’m sorry. i’ll be better, i promise. just hang in there and wait for me a little longer.

but then, slowly, satoru flashed her that feather-soft smile he had given her the first time she finally waved back at him. it was softer, different to the way he usually smiled, like the notion meant so much more to him than she realized.

and she felt like everything might finally start to be okay.

| Φ |

“do you regret letting the things that happened to you in the past hurt her too?”

“of course i do, that’s why i’m here. i’m fucking broken, and i need help.”

| Φ |

the streets were dusted with a light frosting of snow.

there wasn’t much of it at all, really. it was hardly deep enough to make a snowball from, but it was enough to blanket everything in a sea of powdery whiteness. a cold drop of water dripped from a streetlight straight onto her nose, and she shivered profusely from the shock of it, pulling her itchy woolen scarf tighter around her neck.

there were faint tracks in the snow leading up to the cafe, and she guessed they probably belonged to satoru.

they had both been tasked with decorating the cafe with a little festive cheer on this crisp sunday morning. satoru had groaned about it, complaining that he would do anything but that on his day off. he only begrudgingly agreed to it after being bribed with unlimited access to the seasonal sweet treats.

and only if she helped him too.

so, that was how she had also been dragged into it on her day off.

she pushed open the door, scraping her damp boots against the entrance mat as warmth seeped into her bones. satoru had actually remember to turn the heating on, and her heart swelled with gratitude.

however, her good feelings were quite short lived.

“satoru,” she hissed. “what the fuck?”

the place was in absolute disarray.

tangled lights were strung about randomly, baubles of various shapes and colors rolled haphazardly across the floor, and the branches of the fake christmas tree were decidedly not attached where they were supposed to be. satoru was lazing at the counter, completely engrossed in his textbook, not even sparing her a glance as he deadpanned.

“what? i took everything out of the boxes like you told me to.”

“ugh! not like this, and you know it! seriously, it looks like you just dumped everything out onto the floor and just left it.”

his humorous snort told her that was exactly what he did.

it was painfully obvious that satoru gojo absolutely did not like christmas.

as soon as december hit, satoru became quite restrained, even dejected. he wasn’t up for doing much at all, except sitting around and reading her old textbooks. whenever someone asked if he had any plans for the holidays, he would just say “no,” in a way that completely shut down the conversation. if he overheard customers discussing their festive plans for too long, he would zone out, like he was lost somewhere far away from here.

she strode toward him, making sure to stomp her feet a little. satoru never bothered to look up at her, so he didn’t see when she picked up a plastic candy cane and threw it at his head.

“ow! seriously?”

“help me. now.”

letting out an exaggerated groan, satoru slammed the book shut with a loud slap and slowly – very slowly – slid off his chair.

it took several hours of hard work, but they eventually managed to turn the cafe into a mini wonderland. dainty red bows and lights were tastefully placed around, gold and silver tinsel glinted playfully in the sunlight, and the tree in the center of the tables was adorned with emerald and blue baubles.

“what do you think, satoru?”

but he was hardly paying any attention.

“sure, looks fine.”

in fact, satoru looked like something was crawling painfully beneath his perfect skin. he seemed ready to bolt outside without saying another word to her.

“are you alright?” she asked carefully, setting down a pretty green bauble she had been holding.

he looked up at her blankly. “yeah, i just don’t like all…” he gestured around him. “this.”

“not a festive person?”

“not really.”

“oh, okay.”

“it’s not for everyone sometimes, you know?”

“well, yeah… sure.”

“and it’s so much fuss for just one day.”

“mhm.”

“i hope you don’t think i’m like… i don’t know, a grinch or something.”

“i don’t think you’re a grinch, satoru.”

she tried not to notice how he shivered when she said his name.

“good, because i’m not. i don’t actually want someone else being miserable too.”

“what do you mean too?”

at this, satoru fell silent, like he’d said too much, revealed something she wasn’t supposed to know. they were quiet for a while, mostly because she didn’t know what to say, and satoru seemed quite lost in a place she wasn’t sure she wanted to follow him into. then, he flashed her that signature smile of is, his teeth glinting, and for the first time, she felt like she was seeing it for what it really was all along.

a defense mechanism.

for everyone to stay away, to not get too near him. to be blinded by his beauty and not ask too many questions.

“well, looks like we’re all done here!” he exclaimed quickly, clapping his hands together with a flourish. “wanna go get something sweet?”

satoru didn’t wait for her to answer.

before she knew it, he’d shoved his dark beanie over his snowy hair, and was bounding out of the shop. she watched him briefly through the window, rubbing his hands together, his breath coming out in little wispy puffs. he caught her looking and motioned with his head for her to come on.

she sighed, switching off the heating and locking up behind her.

“you know,” she said, not missing the way he winced. “you can always talk to me, right?”

satoru seemed to think about this for a moment before shaking his head and replying with a far too-cheerful, “of course! now, let’s go.”

the boy was hiding something in his galaxy of cerulean stars.

but then again, so was she.

| Φ |

“what was it like being with her?”

“it was peaceful and she was so beautiful, and god, so smart. like, she could discover something that would change the world, you know?… fuck!”

| Φ |

it was christmas eve.

she was watching the snow falling outside, holding a mug of coffee between her palms. the radio station, with its faint static buzz muffling the words, was the sort that lonely people listened to in movies. the host was chatting away in between songs like they didn’t think anybody was listening, probably assuming that everyone was being festive with their families, and not tuning in to some random station.

i’m listening, though. i’m here.

“it’s a lovely, quiet night, isn’t it? some people hate the quiet, though. like there’s something wrong with it.”

she’d pretended that she absolutely had to work over the holidays to avoid going home, and she didn’t regret it one bit. this was all somewhat… nice, actually. her mind was mostly quiet, focused on the coffee and the radio and the snow falling delicately to the ground below.

she took a sip from her mug, a pleasant, tingling burn on her tongue. there was some truth in that sentiment, she mused.

“but i think that it’s only when things are quiet and still, that you can find out a lot about yourself!”

well, she wasn’t so sure if she had discovered anything new about herself other than pain.

ring! ring! ring!

she nearly spilled her coffee all over her lap.

it was satoru.

for some reason, he hadn’t gone back home either. she hadn’t pressed him on why he didn’t, probably because he wouldn’t have told her the truth anyway, or brush her off with a half-hearted joke instead of a real answer.

slowly, she reached for her phone. “hello?”

it was quiet.

too quiet.

and then, the barest sound of what might have been a sniffle.

“hi,” satoru greeted, his voice filled with broken glass.

and it was like all the light and happiness in the world had gone. her eyes became glossy. he sounded familiar, only because she knew that she had once sounded like that too. she could recognize the sound of a person who had lost everything, and was barely clinging onto this plane of existence.

“what are you doing?” he whispered.

she stifled a sob. “nothing really, you?”

“same.”

there was a gust of wind outside, sending the snow dancing in a large, swooping whirlpool.

“can i, uh-” he swallowed quite audibly. “can i see you?”

she didn’t miss a beat. “sure.”

“okay, right. i’ll see you in a bit.”

her screen went black as satoru ended the call, and she tapped her cheek three times just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. when she realized that she definitely wasn’t, she scrambled up from her warm spot on the sofa, picking up all the random clothes off the floor and shoving them into drawers just for the time being. she was overthinking everything, every little mess, and what satoru would think when he saw her apartment.

should she give the counter a wipe?

was there maybe a smell about?

knock! knock! knock!

there was no time to think about all that.

how had he gotten here so quickly?

she breathed out shakily, wiping her forehead as she hesitantly opened the door.

and there he was with his head bowed low.

there were plenty of snowflakes clinging stubbornly onto his beanie and coat, and she guessed that he must have been outside for a while. when she looked closed at him, she realized with a start that he was wearing his pyjamas – washed-out, grey sweatpants paired with a shirt with a faded superman logo on it. it might have been funny, but when satoru looked up at her, his eyes were rimmed with bright red crescent moons.

she didn’t need to guess that he had been crying.

“hi,” he said softly, his voice cracking like an old mirror.

“hey, come in,” she replied, stepping aside to let him in.

satoru shivered as he stepped over the threshold of her apartment, pausing to puff hot breaths into his hands. she offered him a tea, asking if he wanted it heavy on the sugar, which he shyly accepted. she watched as he took off his boots at the door, expensive black leather dripping with icy sludge, and took a good, long look all around her apartment.

the radio crackled softly, and satoru only seemed to notice it existed then. “huh, you don’t like t.v or something?” he quipped sadly, hardly carrying any bite in his words at all.

“i can’t be bothered getting one,” she admitted with an awkward smile, stirring the teabag in his mug.

satoru hummed and moved to sit on the sofa, sinking into the cushion like he wanted to just melt into a puddle. he rested his neck against the back, long fingers clasping and flexing like he didn’t know what to do with them. she handed him his tea, and then settled on the other end of the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her, and making a conscious effort not to sit too close to him.

for a while, they both didn’t say anything.

the host on the radio was talking again between songs, their voice soft and airy like the snow falling just outside. the next song slowly faded into life, a familiar wistful version of ‘have yourself a merry little christmas’ filling the quiet room. satoru was just staring at the ceiling, the faintest tremor in his hands as he lifted his mug to sip his tea. she didn’t say a word about it, letting herself zone out as she stared at the loose threads in the carpet.

“sorry, i don’t usually do this,” he finally said. “barge in like this, i mean.”

she blinked, and gave him a small smile of reassurance. “it’s okay, i wasn’t doing anything anyways.”

“oh, okay. you didn’t feel like going back home?”

“i could ask you the same thing.”

satoru swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down. then, his shoulders slumped, and his head fell forward in a silent surrender.

she held in a breath.

the angel’s were reaching a key moment in solving their formula, she could feel it in her bones, in her soul. she could hear them and their quills, motions quick and decisive, the noise slowly building like pressure inside a closed vessel.

“his name was suguru.”

the name was a stone falling off the edge of a waterfall, crashing against stone and water and air, and here it finally was – in this tiny, unremarkable apartment that didn’t feel like it was nearly good enough to host such an incredible moment.

it all felt inevitable, really. that she was supposed to be here, in this moment, and that everything in her life had happened just to bring her here. how she fallen in love with a quiet boy with green eyes, and how he had left her. how she nearly faded out of existence, only to be pulled back by a call to work where it all began. how her and satoru met, and how their lives had become so beautifully intertwined.

it was like newton’s second law of motion.

every force that had ever acted on her, every event she had collided into, was all to propel her straight into this moment.

“he was my best friend since middle school, and when i tell you we did everything together, we did fucking everything together.”

satoru paused for a moment, pulling his phone out from his pocket and rapidly tapping and scrolling as he searched for something. when he seemingly found it, he carefully handed his phone to her.

it was a picture of the two of them.

she couldn’t help but smile. satoru was all scruff and awkward teenage smiles, much too tall for his own good. and suguru was… beautiful, really. he was everything his best friend wasn’t – composed and regal, with long, dark hair that looked like it had been dipped in black ink. his eyes were a warm, honeyed chocolate, and she didn’t need to have known him to tell that suguru was kind. the quiet, dependable sort. the kind of person you knew would never leave you behind.

“when we graduated, we even decided to study physics together at uni in tokyo. i mean, i genuinely didn’t have a life without him. but it was like, no matter what happened, as long as suguru was there, it would all be okay.”

tears slipped from his eyes, and he bowed his head low, almost dropping between his knees.

“he died a year ago today.”

oh.

oh, god.

“i thought it was a joke, you know? when i got the call from his parents. i mean, seriously? he’d just gone to visit our old school to help out with some stupid fucking basketball tournament the kids were doing. nothing bad was supposed to happen.”

satoru become incredibly quiet, trapped in a fog of lost memories.

“he’d asked me to go with him,” he admitted, his words dripping in shame. “but i didn’t want to.”

she could hear the unspoken words he wanted to say hovering in the air like a ghost, like the angels whittling away at their little equations.

i should have been there.

“the police said the crossroads were all slippery because of the ice, and that suguru fell over.”

i might have saved him.

“the driver wasn’t even looking properly, but he was going way too fucking fast anyways.”

he could still be alive.

“and yeah, i know it’s so pathetic. i can’t even stay in the same city that he died in. it was just too much for me to handle. that’s why i transferred here, actually, because it just wasn’t the same without him.”

it’s all my fault.

she didn’t know what else to say other than, “i get it.”

because she really did.

her and satoru gojo were one and the same, she knew that now. they might have once been two different variables in the same equation, but now the angels had proven them to be equal to each other, melding them into one and solving for the same outcome.

“you know, you’re the only person who hasn’t tried to lie to me about it,” he mumbled, partly to himself, his fingers tight around his mug. “it never gets easier, no matter how much time passes.”

“i agree. you just get better at carrying it while you try to live on.”

satoru finally spared a glance at her, his pale eyes searching her face, as if he was beginning to realize and understand the person who shared atoms with his soul. that everything had changed for them now, and there was no going back in time.

“there’s a page missing in your book, did you know that?” he said carefully, gently, like it might break her.

“huh- what? no. what are you on about?”

“the one you gave me. i had to look the page up online to find out what it’s about.”

“okay… and?”

“well, why would you rip out a page on relativity?”

oh.

she was flooded with memories she didn’t want to remember. if she looked over satoru’s shoulder, she could almost swear she saw a mirage of a certain dark-haired boy looking at her with a resigned expression, like even the ghost of his past didn’t want to be here. she couldn’t remember even doing it, but she must have torn that page out sometime during the summer. satoru clearly noticed the look on her face, must have seen that familiar, haunted look, and realized he’d unknown touched another nerve.

“you want to tell me about it?” he asked softly.

she looked up at him through lashes heavy with tears, while the ghost’s hazy green eyes pierced into her, silently begging for release, for her to not let him continue to haunt her.

“i will, i promise.”

she blinked, wiping her blurry eyes, and the vision was gone.

“but tell me more about suguru.”

| Φ |

“it sounds like you really did love her.”

“i did, i still do. she was it for me.”

| Φ |

on christmas morning, after satoru had spent the night on her sofa, she told him everything about toji fushiguro.

it was the first time she had said his name aloud after so long, like coaxing death back to where it belonged beyond the veil, and breathing life back into the boy with dark hair and everything that had happened to her. it had been much easier to have pretended that toji was actually dead this whole time.

well, he could have been.

after all, she had no way of knowing, but it was an unhealthy coping mechanism, and she knew it. she couldn’t dare do it anymore either, not when satoru was sitting there right across from her having actually lost his person forever.

so, she didn’t hide a thing.

she told him how it all started. how they fell in love, and all the things that happened in between. the green tea, teaching him about her numbers and stars and the summer of vanilla ice cream. for some reason, she felt sheepish at revealing the trauma that had happened to toji when he was a child, but she had to do it. it was the catalyst for why he had just up and left, and none of it would have made sense to satoru.

much like when she had listened to him the night before, he hadn’t said a word the entire time she spoke. but she knew satoru was listening. in fact, he was completely immersed in her story. like he could feel everything she could. he smiled at the happy parts, even laughed, his expression only turning twisted and sour at the end of it – like her anger and pain was his to bear too.

it made her feel much less alone in all of it.

“i hate him,” she said when she finished, her voice sharper than a knife’s edge, dripping with green, green venom.

but he was looking at her like he didn’t believe that for a second.

she didn’t even know she was shivering until satoru got up and draped a blanket over her shoulders, gently prying the mug that she had been gripping tightly. he looked down at her so kindly it made her chest tighten, an encouraging smile curling his baby-pink lips upwards like it was the only thing holding all her pieces together.

there was something… changed about him.

even with his fluffy hair, a messy pile of snow and stardust, there was something a little more airy and less burdened about him. his shoulders were more pulled back, not slouched like before, which she hadn’t even really noticed he had been doing until now.

“you got any food?” satoru asked suddenly, striding confidently over to her fridge and opening it.

she frowned. “for breakfast?”

“no, i mean for dinner. we have to have some kind of feast don’t we?”

“really? now you want to be festive?”

satoru lazily stretched his back, the skin of his waist peeking out. “festivity is subjective. besides, we just so happen to be celebrating on a day everyone else is.”

“uh huh, and what are we celebrating exactly?”

“well, us.”

he said it like it was totally obvious.

“tell you what, i’ll go out to the store and get us stuff for tonight,” he said firmly, already putting his coat and beanie on. “please tell me you have pots and pans we can use.”

she deadpanned. “yes.”

“hey, i’m only asking because i’m not the one who goes into a 7-eleven every night for dinner.”

she threw a pillow in his direction, but he was already out the door before it could land anywhere near him. sighing, she rubbed her still-tired eyes and glanced around the apartment. whatever satoru was planning for later, it wouldn’t do to have the place messy. she mopped the floors properly and gave the kitchen a good clean, scrubbing all the pots and pans that had been sitting unused in the cabinets since she moved in.

by the time satoru came back with several white plastic bags of groceries, the apartment was spotless and ready for whatever mess was about to unfold in the kitchen.

“you certainly don’t skimp out,” she remarked, eyeing the bags and their contents as he dumped them out onto the counter.

satoru only laughed, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands. “i’m rich. so, no.”

“pft! well, thanks for all this.”

together, they started prepping for their feast, deciding to make oden with all the fresh vegetables that satoru had bought. soon enough, a wonderfully savory, wholesome scent filled the apartment. she assembled the table while satoru stirred the pot, putting together the sides, the radio merrily playing christmas tunes on and on. when they finally sat down to eat, when she took the first bite of her stew, she almost cried.

she hadn’t realized just how much she had missed this – taking care of her body, cooking something nutritious and homemade. maybe that was why her apartment didn’t feel like home.

how could it be? she had never even made a home-cooked meal in it.

she decided to remedy that from that moment on.

as the evening wore on, they ended up back on the sofa together. a blanket was draped over their legs, a dip between them filled with all the sweets satoru had brought over. the radio switched between more mellow tunes and cheerful ones, and that same host from last night was on again.

but she wasn’t listening in this time.

her and satoru were completely engrossed in one another, talking about what had drawn them to physics in the first place, and about all the stars and planets they wish they could see one day. she felt something warm kindling in her chest. maybe it was the atoms of herself coming back together, little by little. she wasn’t sure, but it felt like a flicker of something familiar.

it wasn’t happiness, not yet.

but as satoru tore a piece of red bean mochi in half, offering her one part with that stellar grin on his face, she thought it might just get there.

| Φ |

“i hope you had a happy new years- ah! yes, of course, it was your birthday as well! how was it?”

“yeah, alright, thanks. was just a quiet night in for me.”

| Φ |

the rest of the school year passed by in a hazy kaleidoscope of colours.

it certainly wasn’t rosy, but it was satoru and her, and all the colors that made him.

mostly, he was dripping in hues of red.

vibrant and lusciously full of life, satoru exuded a sort of confidence that made her want to grit her teeth. she was jealous of him when he was like this – a glorious star of red that burned bright and hot. she wished she could put up her own veil of red to the world, something gushing with so much vitality and mirth that nobody could ever guess she was green with sadness. but it was all a front, a distraction to hide what he was feeling deep down.

because above all, satoru was blue.

she knew it had everything to do with suguru. he would withdraw from the world, hiding away in his bedroom for days. she'd knock on his door, and satoru would answer with heavy bags under his eyes and a glossy sheen in them. he wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep either – just lie there and stare up at he ceiling like he wanted to float up through the atmosphere and into space.

but the worst was when he was purple.

an infinity that blended his melancholy and beauty. satoru was borderline cruel, even a touch mad, when he was like this. he’d flash everyone a stellar smile, drawing them in while his fangs glinted, enticing them with the sweetest honey they didn’t realize was dangerous until they were trapped in its sticky depths.

she recognized him for what he was in those moments.

something pretty to look at but never, ever to touch.

still, she gradually came to understand all of satoru’s colors the way he understood hers. she learned how to dip a paintbrush in them all and create something different. there were soft, cooler tones for his burning red to sizzle out against, streaks of yellow through his blue to remind him of the light within him.

none of it was perfect.

it was jagged and messy at the best of times, but it was real. eventually, satoru learned to sit there and take the time to paint too, his hands shaking and unsteady, with an indomitable will to fight through it all.

and now, at the beginning of the summer, she knew satoru gojo was healing when he said to her, “come with me.”

she looked up questioningly. “what?”

“come with me,” he repeated casually, not lifting his eyes from his sheet of messily scrawled calculations. “come and spend the summer with me in tokyo.”

tokyo.

that seemingly faraway place where everybody wanted to end up. where a persons merit was deemed worth enough if they had made it there. the place where love ran away to die a death unseen, still but acutely felt, even through all the distance.

it felt forbidden to her.

that it was toji’s place to hide away, and she would ruin it all for him if she went there.

satoru glanced up when her silence stretched on for too long. his eyebrow quirked up unimpressed. “if it’s money you’re worried about, then don’t. you can stay with me at my place. my parents won’t mind.”

“it’s not that,” she mumbled, rubbing a pink sugar packet between her fingers.

he pursed his lips, shutting his book, and got up from his seat. motioning for her to take his place, satoru set about preparing something. she furrowed her brows, perplexed, but trying to focus on his calculations to avoid staring at him.

and then, a steaming mug of green tea appeared – a pool of pale green staring up at her like a ghost.

“drink it,” satoru ordered, but his voice was gentle, like a helping hand. “if i can go back, you can do this.”

she stared at him for a moment longer, her heart ticking faster like the sound of an alarm clock about to ring. she thought of the law of inertia, and how she had remained motionless, stuck in the same place for so long. maybe it was time to move on, to overcome her own resistance and start moving again. a year had passed, after all, and if he could just run away and live his life, then so could she.

and with that, she took a sip.

| Φ |

“i just want to say that i’m very proud of you and your progress over the last few months. you’re doing very well for yourself.”

“ah, hah! well, thankyou.”

| Φ |

satoru gojo was rich.

she already knew that he was. it wasn’t like he bragged about it often, but she could just tell. it was in the little things he did – or didn’t do. he always wore good quality shirts, the kind that weren’t so prone to wrinkles, and they always looked like they had been pressed by someone else who did it for a living. he never even thought to check his receipts for his grocery shop after swiping his card at the till, and she would click her tongue in amazement at not having to worry about such a thing.

but she didn’t realize just how filthy rich he was until she stepped foot into his apartment.

her jaw had actually dropped.

because of course he had a penthouse, and of course it was like something straight out an interior design magazine. with its floor-to-ceiling windows that hugged the whole space, and perfectly balanced blend of modern and traditional minimalism. there was the scent of tasteful freshness around her, something that was actually much like satoru – linen and eucalyptus, with a hint of peppery sweetness.

she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

“satoru,” she whispered with glittering awe on her tongue. “tell me something.”

he hummed questioningly, throwing his two duffle bags onto the floor and collapsing with a huff onto the sofa. “what?”

“why the fuck would you move to our shitty university when you live here?”

“oh, this? my family home is much bigger, actually. just wait til you see that.”

“you- you mean this… isn’t?”

satoru barked out a laugh. “no, this is just my own place.”

“pft!”

the sun had fallen below the skyscrapers, and she pressed her head against the cooled glass to watch the bustling world below her. the lights were twinkling madly, winking at her like they were trying to entice her out into the streets with all its colorful neon signs and billboards. her fingers twitched with anticipation, and she squealed in excitement.

“let’s go, lets go!” she exclaimed suddenly, feeling a burst of energy to explore in a way she thought she had lost as a child. “c’mon!”

satoru grinned at her, and pushed himself off the sofa.

and so began a new summer, one made of blue and white instead of green, green, green.

there were plenty of late nights spent wandering the streets, savoring all sorts of vendors and restaurants. the occasional bar hop in shinjuku, stumbling and bumbling like buzzing bees drunk on nectar, weaving their way back to a train station to get home and sleep the heat of the day away, only to do it all over again.

tonight was one of those particular nights.

they had their arms around each other, her leaning on satoru much more heavily than he was on her. it was too late – or rather, far too early – to catch a train back to the penthouse. satoru was loathe to call his driver, because of course he just had access to one on call at all times and didn’t bother to use them.

“this is sooo much more fun anyways!” he slurred, a glossy bottom lip protruded in a pout.

she blew a raspberry at him, her feet aching and legs feeling numb, but whether it was from the alcohol or pure exhaustion, she couldn’t tell. it was all fun, really, a memory she knew she would always look back on. something to make her smile and shake her head at the antics she used to get up to.

oh, how growing older was so eerily strange.

one moment, she was playing hide and seek, scraping her hands and knees on the pavement as she learned how to ride a bike.

the next she was crying in a heap on the bathroom floor as the love of her life blocked her number and left.

poof!

like he had never even existed in the first place.

“poof!” she mumbled, feeling her stomach lurch with bubbling anxiousness.

“heyyy! what’re you thinkin about?”

satoru’s voice startled her, and she hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving or that the weight of him was no longer slowing her down. he was peering at her expectantly, two moons of blue shining through the dark and bathing her in his aura.

but he already knew.

satoru always knew.

he sighed, reaching out a hand to her like salvation. she realized that he was, her saving grace, her cerulean light at the end of that infinite tunnel of vacuum and green ink.

she slid her palm in his, their fingers tangling together and fitting perfectly together in each other’s equation.

“can i take you somewhere?” satoru whispered, staring in drunk awe at their hands stuck together.

“mhm.”

the sky was just starting to change, as the sun gently pressed delicate kisses to it, making it blush in strokes of indigo and pale orange. she didn’t know where they were going, and she didn’t care. her brain was far too tired to comprehend anything. all she knew was that she and satoru were on one of the first trains of the day, the rhythmic hum of the train was soothing, and his arm was around her.

and it felt nice.

when they eventually got off the train, satoru never let go of their hands or his arm around her, steadying her as the walked and walked.

until they finally stopped.

they were in the middle of a street, standing against the flow of people brushing past them on their morning commute. the smell of a kfc just behind them tickled her nose, making her empty stomach grumble in protest.

“satoru, what are we doing here?” she asked, voice heavy with sleepiness.

but he didn’t answer.

in fact, satoru was much too quiet, his grip on her hand acutely missing as he stared straight ahead. she followed his gaze to the bold white and black stripes of a pedestrian crossing a few meters away on the busy road beside them.

her mouth suddenly felt dry.

“it’s a strange thing, isn’t it?” satoru mumbled. “we’re in this plane of existence between innocence and death, and we all just continue on.”

the longer she stared at the crossing, the more she could have sworn she saw deep red splatters flashing on the white, staining the deep black with an unnatural dullness.

she wanted to be sick.

“but that’s all we can do, isn’t it? just move on. try to forget everything when you really just can’t, because there’s nothing you can fucking do to change a thing.”

change – a chemical change.

like when paper burns, or iron turns to old rust, or flesh decays deep down in the earth. things that change and never return to what they once were, no matter how hard you tried. that was just it, really. she was something like a cigarette, set alight and burned for all she was worth, only to be stubbed out on the concrete beneath an unforgiving shoe as soon as the hit was over.

she would never be the same.

who could?

“i’ll never forget suguru,” satoru sighed, like he was resigning himself to his fate. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to be free of him.”

be free.

she couldn’t imagine being free of toji.

“satoru,” she said, her voice like a feather floating in the wind. “why did you bring me here?”

“because… to show you that if i can be here, in the one place on earth i never want to be, that starting to let go is possible. that if i can do it, then so can you.”

could she?

could she really be free?

she bit her lip, willed herself not to burst out crying in the middle of a very public street. the music was loud here – quite loud, in fact. and satoro was there in a pristine white shirt, holding a match to her, gently setting her on fire in a beautiful green flame, letting her atoms scatter and roam free wherever they wanted to go.

she nodded slowly.

maybe…

maybe it wasn’t so frightening after all.

| Φ |

“so, how did it go?”

“i just couldn’t fucking do it. i choked up as soon as i heard her voice.”

| Φ |

before she knew it, the summer was already coming to an end.

“maybe i could do my phd, then i’d be able to put ‘doctor’ on all my legal documents. wouldn’t that be cool?”

“seriously? you haven’t had enough of academia yet?”

she and satoru were lounging on his pristine sofa. it was so soft she felt like she was sitting on a cloud, sinking into its fluffy depths, drowning in powdered marshmallows and the crisp scent of fabric freshener. even though the holidays were nearly over, the days were still much too hot to venture outside into – a fierce heat that made her feel like a piece of fish sizzling on a frying pan. instead, they would pig out and binge television shows in the cool comfort of the air conditioning, some the peak of entertainment that would spark passionate discussions.

others not so much.

“ok, this is fuckin stupid,” satoru muttered, prickly annoyance lacing his words like cactus spines. “i’m changing this shit.”

she only hummed, absentmindedly scrolling through her social media feed. it had been far too long for her to try and remember the last time she had been on any kind of social app, but there wasn’t much else to do during the day, and the mood had just struck her to see what sorts of things people she barely knew were up to.

it was pretty much what she expected.

a seemingly endless stream of aesthetic travel and lifestyle photos, silly poses with overly wide smiles. the occasional engagement announcement, compilations of sappy wedding posts, and even the odd pregnancy reveal. how funny it was to watch everyone’s lives moving on through pixels on a screen.

until it decidedly wasn’t.

her thumb froze mid-swipe.

oh.

“oh my god.”

satoru tilted his head towards her, his eyes still fixed on the tv screen. “what?”

it was really him.

toji.

there was no mistake about it. he was standing there with his knuckles wrapped in white bandages, his chest bare and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, a minuscule smile tugging at his lips as he posed beside shiu kong. the backdrop was clearly a gym – the mirrors behind them reflecting a sleek array of expensive looking equipment.

hard work pays off! for a limited time only, fushiguro is offering a special discount for new clients 💪 dm us to get booked in with the man himself!

she couldn’t breath.

she stared so hard at the photo that her vision blurred, her chest tightening like a snake had coiled itself around her, squeezing for all it was worth. like toji could see her through the screen and was laughing at her and how crippled she was by such a small thing. this had to be a joke. some sick, cosmic joke that the angel’s were snickering about as they dipped their quills back into their ink pots. her pulse thrummed in her ears, blocking out the world and the music and everything.

until it was just her and her phone and that damn photo.

she hated how the first thought she had was how much she missed him.

and how unfairly attractive he still looked.

upon clicking on shiu’s account, she scrolled through post after post documenting the journey of the gym’s grand opening. it was clear that bucketloads of blood and sweat that had gone into the place, with plenty of videos showing the two of them actively contributing to build it. she didn’t need to be an expert to tell that it was a great place to go, and her chest constricted again.

so, he actually did it.

he went and did what he said he was going to do.

and i’m still here.

“hey, what’s up? you get another weird silent call?”

she flinched.

satoru’s voice yanked her back into the present, a curious lilt in his question. his baby blues were fixed on her, the tv remote in his hand swinging lazily back and forth in his hand as he fiddled with it.

she bit her lip, shutting her screen off with a sharp click.

“oh, it’s nothing.”

why didn’t she want to admit it?

oh right, she was supposed to be moving on from all this.

“uh-huh,” satoru deadpanned, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “what were you looking at?”

there really was no hiding anything from him, was there?

with an exasperated sigh, she unlocked her phone and flipped it over for him to see. satoru squinted at the screen, plucking her phone from her hands for a closer look. a white brow arched in what seemed like a mixture of disgust and recognition as he zoomed in, the sofa creaking softly beneath him as he leaned back into the cushions with a huff.

“well,” he quipped, a strange edge to his voice as he handed back her phone. “you know he’s alive.”

she didn’t say anything, her hands trembling as she set her phone down on the coffee table, farther away than it needed to be, as if it had stung her.

it had.

satoru sighed, and asked much more gently this time, “do you want to talk about it?”

“what’s there to talk about?” she replied far too quickly, the words tasting too much like bile.

the silence stretched on.

somewhere far below, a car honked aggressively, the sound faint and barely audible this high up from the hustle and bustle of tokyo. the beginnings of trailers and clips from shows began to play in the background, but neither of them seemed to be paying attention to it.

“if you ever saw him again, wha–”

“satoru. i don’t want to play that game.”

“it’s not a game if it’s a genuine question.”

“i–fuck! i don’t even know.”

“c’mon, you must have thought about it before.”

she groaned exasperatedly. “satoru.”

“what?”

“can we not talk about this?”

“no, we’re gonna talk about it. what if we bump into him while you’re here?”

“ugh, i just… wouldn’t say anything i guess.”

“seriously?”

“well, what more do you want?”

“you’d have absolutely nothing to say to the guy? you wouldn’t fucking scream at him, hit him? something?”

“no, and why should i? he’s the one that left me, and he doesn’t deserve even one word. he’s clearly moved on, and so am i.”

“right, because you totally looked over it just there.”

her jaw tightened, and she scowled at him.

“fuck off.”

it was quiet for a heartbeat until, “that’s what i would say for a start,” satoru snorted.

she rolled her eyes, rubbed them wearily, and let out a half-hearted laugh. “shut up.”

“that works too if he decides to speak, and then i’d swoop in and deck the guy.”

“are you sure you wanna do that?”

“excuse me, are you implying i couldn’t take him?”

“you definitely couldn’t.”

“uh, yes i could. quite easily, actually.”

he flexed his bicep, tilting his head and nodding approvingly at the taut muscle. she barked out a laugh, despite the churning feeling twisting her stomach with acid.

what would she actually say?

fuck you for leaving me.

what was the point of it all?

you could have at least said goodbye to me. i know i messed up, but i didn’t deserve what you did to me.

or maybe she would she just turn around and run away, just like he had? it was so easy to imagine that she would be brave enough to stand her ground and give him a piece of her mind. but she didn’t think she would. she would always be doomed to dig her roots deeper into the ground, hold her tongue, and silently defend herself against the battering storm.

“let’s not think about that anymore, yeah?” satoru attempted encouragingly, giving her foot a teasing nudge. “out of sight, out of mind, am i right?”

she smiled tightly. “right.”

right?

| Φ |

“you still mean to go through with your plan?”

“yeah. i don’t even know if she’ll be there, but i have to start somewhere, and… i don’t know. it feels like the right place.”

| Φ |

before she knew it, it was the start of winter.

that familiar crisp cold air was settling on her nose and tongue, jolting her tired bones into feeling just a little more alive. it wasn’t snowing, not yet, but it certainly wasn’t far behind. she tucked her hands into the crooks of her elbows, quietly chided herself for forgetting her gloves at home.

as per usual, she was on her way to the cafe.

she had been working a lot more than usual lately. satoru’s final year was significantly busier than his previous years, so he hadn’t been working as much, leaving her and her other colleague’s to bear the brunt of the busy end-of-year season. not that she minded, her brain had been quite preoccupied lately, and actual work was a better distraction than her studies.

she didn’t really understand what or why she was feeling so strange.

it was almost like something bigger than herself. the anticipation of the drop before leaping off a diving board, or the creeping dread that something was coming for you. that things were about to change too quickly for her to even try and keep up.

she hoped it was just all in her head.

the cafe was just around the corner now, its familiar sign flickering and wonderfully colourful against the grey clouds that hung darkly over the afternoon like an omen. she quickened her pace, boots crunching loudly against the pavement, already imagining the comforting blast of warmth that would envelope her as soon as she stepped inside. the windows were fogged over, but she could still make out the warm glow of the lamps and the outline of customers hunched over their drinks.

the doorbell chimed as she walked in, the strong scent of cinnamon swirling through up her nose like an old friend’s greeting. it was predictable and grounding, and the unease that had been chasing her for weeks was left outside to freeze in the cold.

until she walked outside again.

but that was a problem for after her shift.

“oh, thank god you're here!" her manager exclaimed, dashing past her as she shrugged off her coat, a tray of teacups balanced precariously with one hand. "can you handle the to-go's?”

from that moment on, for the next hour, she was thrown into a frazzled mess of oat milk and sickly sweet caramel syrup. her apron was stained within ten minutes, and she kept apologizing profusely for any sort of delay, even if they had only been waiting for a minute or two, or whenever she brushed against a customer's hand with her sticky syrup fingers to return their change.

it was chaos, to say the least.

she felt like a machine on autopilot, firing through order after order, hardly paying attention to anything but the job at hand.

the bell chimed – again.

she tapped the side of the cinnamon shaker against a styrofoam cup, a blinding ray of unexpected sunlight slanting through the windows. the world was suddenly skewed, an equation of pure molten gold weaving together this plane of existence for just one precious moment.

a cup clattered loudly.

huh, the sun must have come out.

a shadow fell across the counter, long and somewhat familiar.

“oh, sorry for the wait! what can–”

she looked up, the words dying painfully in her throat like shards of shattering glass.

and there he was.

the boy with dark hair standing there with his hands in his pockets, just like he used to.

it all felt so frighteningly familiar, like she'd been here before in another lifetime. she would have believed it too, because the moment stretched infinitely, impossibly, dragging on and on. it was him and his green eyes and that perfect golden scar on his lip that warped the world according to his own laws of gravity and time. she'd once traced that scar with her fingers, had once loved it, and brought forth a teardrop of blood from it.

her breath hitched.

the music was frighteningly loud now, as though the angels had been waiting for their beautiful muse to come back to them after all this time. it curled in the space between them, across the counter, beckoning their fingers to reach out and touch each other again.

toji.

she didn't say his name, couldn't. it looped in her mind like the numbers and greek letters she'd pondered over for years, never quite able to solve – maybe not even wanting to. if she did, he might just disappear altogether again. even if a part of her wanted him to, it was unbelievably sickening how her body and soul craved the sight of him.

her fingers twitched uncomfortably.

you can't be real.

no, you're not. none of this is real.

he was equal parts familiar and foreign. his mop of black hair just a touch longer than she remembered it to be, but still in that same messy style that was his. but what struck her the most were his clothes. they weren’t faded or worn, no random holes poking through anywhere. they were all clean and ironed, with a well- structured black coat over it all that looked like had just bought it from a shop and put it on.

he wasn't the same, no. that much was obvious.

but it's still you.

the cinnamon shaker slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the counter, its echo piercing through the void.

she gasped, “oh, s-sorry!”

and then he finally spoke. “s'alright.”

oh, toji.

his voice was rougher, deeper, yet even quieter than it used to be. it struck her chest like a hammer, reverberating throughout her hollowed bones and down the long hallway where the angels scribbled on their scrolls. he was staring at her like he was trying to solve her too, trying to decipher how she was really feeling on the inside.

she hated it.

hated how he was in a position that meant he knew her, even a little bit. hated that he knew everything, and would know that slight change in her face when she was about to smile or about to cry. hated how it took just about everything she had not to run away.

but most of all, she hated how she wanted nothing more than to just go to him.

to reach across the counter and pull him into her. to say how sorry she was and how much she had missed him, even beg him not to leave again.

i don’t want to love you anymore.

i wish, i wish, i wish i never did.

“i didn't think you would still be here,” he admitted, a tone of surprise in his words.

she felt a flash of annoyance.

how dare he acknowledge that she was still in the same place? it was embarrassing – shameful – that he had been able to go off and do what he said he was going to do, and she hadn't. that she was left behind in the dust of everyone else who had moved on.

“i'm doing my masters,” she replied flatly.

toji’s face fell a little at her tone, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “that's great! really. you were always smart. not that you aren't now, obviously.”

she only stared blankly at him. “would you like to order something?”

toji hesitated, his chapped lips parting, but then the doorbell chimed behind him, loud and jarring.

“hey! it's absolutely freezing outside, isn’t it?” satoru's unmistakable drawl lashed through the air like a whip, larger than life.

her head whipped towards him, an immediate wave of relief washing over her before it was replaced by cold, hard dread. toji turned slightly, glancing at the boy with starlight hair who had strolled in like he owned the place. satoru's easy grin landed on her, dazzling her in his red.

until he noticed who was standing in front of her.

his eyes turned to ice, narrowing into daggers like he was ready to slice toji up into pieces. then, deliberately slow, satoru strutted over, plonking himself behind the counter right beside her, casually leaning forward as if he had all the time in the world.

“you need something?” satoru asked dangerously, his words dipped in a deep purple.

toji looked between the two of them, and something in those green eyes of his made her feel uneasy, even a dash of unwarranted guilt. his fists were tight, fingernails digging his palm so hard it made her own hands hurt. without saying another word, he swiveled on his heels and walked back out the door, disappearing into the afternoon that had gone grey again.

“nice meeting you!” satoru called out after him, a heavy hand resting on her shoulder.

but toji was already long gone.

| Φ l

satoru didn’t want to leave her alone.

“he doesn’t know where i live,” she’d hissed as they walked back to her studio together, a brooding hulk of a guard dog beside her. “satoru! you’re acting like a lunatic.”

“shut up, will you?” he snapped, his eyes darting suspiciously at every person who passing by. “he knows where you work.”

“i think that was just a random chance,” she mumbled quietly, her breath coming out in small, hot puffs, not sure why she was even defending toji at all.

but satoru had just ignored her, ushering her through the door of her building like the boy in question was right behind them, shutting it with a particularly loud slam! she almost felt like she was in trouble for something, even though rationally she knew that absolutely none of this was her fault.

she had just never seen satoru so unbelievably angry.

after firmly making sure she had eaten something wholesome, and after much convincing on her part that she definitely wasn’t planning to leave her apartment for the night, satoru finally left her alone. not before giving her a long, hard look that made it clear that if she needed him, she was to call him immediately.

she might have been touched by it if she wasn’t so utterly consumed by thoughts of toji.

why had he come? why now?

why, why, why?

endless questions swirled around her brain, circling like a goldfish swimming around a perfectly clear crystal bowl. she lay there on her bed, the only light coming from a flickering streetlight outside. sleep was completely out of the question for tonight, so she counted the seconds between each rhythmic flicker of light, trying pathetically to distract herself from it all.

just when she might have been able to slip into the darkness of a dreamless sleep, her phone lit up beside her.

buzz! buzz!

she frowned, not recognizing the unfamiliar number.

“hello?”

“hey, uh- it’s me.”

her heart stopped, then stuttered back to life. she sat upright, gripping her phone tighter.

“sorry, you weren’t asleep were you?” toji continued, his tone slightly sheepish.

she blinked. “no.”

“oh, great!” he cleared his throat. “i didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“it’s late.”

there was a pause. “right, yeah. well, i just… i wanted to call you for a while now, but i don’t know. it just didn’t feel right to talk to you over the phone.”

she waited with bated breath.

“about what?”

she knew exactly what.

“i just wanted to say that i’m sorry.”

of course she knew – in the same way that the universe might have known the big bang was coming. that existence was on the brink of becoming itself after an explosion, stretching and rippling outward like a drop of water in an infinite ocean.

there was another pause, followed by a deep breath. “i don’t expect calling you to fix everything that i did, but i wanted to start by telling you that i’m so sorry for everything.”

did the universe know it was going to hurt this much?

“i'm so sorry,” he continued in a fragile whisper. “for the way i ran away and left you like that. and i'm sorry for being such a coward.”

maybe it had been okay with it. that’s just how something grows, isn’t it? a sudden explosion of growing pains to become something better, newer.

“you didn't deserve it.”

but the universe was born silently when it exploded into existence – a voiceless scream as creation erupted into being. she wondered how long it had been quiet for after it was all over.

“you still there?”

“yeah.”

she wondered if she would be silent too.

“well i-uh, i know that you've probably moved on from all this, but i just wanted to try and make things right.”

“mhm.”

he coughed, and cleared his throat. “you know, i went to therapy.”

“you did?”

“yeah. it was… kinda forced on me at the beginning, but i knew that i needed it to start fixing myself. i learned a lot about myself, and about why i did what i did. and i know that i definitely didn’t deserve you back then, but that i also didn't deserve to come back you if i was still the same.”

“and do you think you're... fixed now?”

“yeah, i’m just trying to be better.”

the light outside flickered again. one, two...

“you know... there's nothing you can say that'll make me forget what you did.”

three.

a sharp inhale, followed by a rough, “i know.”

“and you can’t just expect to walk back into my life like nothing happened.”

“i know.”

she turned over, burying her face in her pillow, the phone pressed against her ear.

“but that's not why i called you,” toji murmured. “i’m not trying to get you to forget what happened, because i can't either. but i’ve changed, and i just want to try and make things a little better, and to maybe be... friends, at least.”

“you want to be friends now?”

he paused for a long time.

“if you'd be okay with that, then yeah.”

“look, toji, i- i don't know.”

“i’d understand if you don't want to, believe me. and if you never want to hear or see me again then i’d get that too. and its selfish of me to even ask you this in the first place, but i have to try and keep you in my life because i still need you.”

holy good god.

“and i think about you all the time, every single day for the past two years, because you're it for me. you’re my person, and even if you don't want the same as me, then that's okay. i’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all.”

what was she even supposed to say to that?

“and even as a friend, i promise not to leave like that again.”

“but what if i don’t want you as a friend? what if i don’t want you as anything to me anymore?”

“then i’ll leave.”

even the angels had stopped writing, their quills frozen mid-number as they peered over their desks, watching the two little humans they had tangled together in a messy scrawl of numbers and letters.

“say something,” toji said, a sad desperation in his voice. “please.”

“you hurt me, toji. do you know how much i hated you for that?”

“believe me, its not more than how much i hated myself for doing it.”

don't say it, don't say it, don't say it.

don’t you dare.

“okay,” she whispered.

“okay?”

her mind buzzed with thoughts and the consequences of allowing toji fushiguro back into her life. she thought of satoru, and how angry he would be, and how her brain screamed with all the words she wanted to hurl at toji about the true extent of how much he had hurt her.

but that didn’t matter, not yet.

not when he was here and promising to stay – to stay and be there for her, to listen to everything she had to say.

there was time for all of that.

and perhaps it was time to be born anew in a different universe.

“yeah, okay, but i can’t just be around you like that again. it doesn’t work that way, and i need time to get used to… you.”

toji’s voice sounded more hopeful, more positive, like the sun had broken through the clouds and was shining down on him again. “y-yeah, i get that! i’ll wait! however long it takes, i’ll wait.”

“okay,” she said quietly, almost as if reassuring herself.

“well it’s-uh late, i guess,” he said, a shaky cheerfulness in his voice that made the ghost of a smile play on her lips. “goodnight, and maybe call you tomorrow?”

“goodnight, toji.”

the line went quiet.

fuck.

but her mind certainly didn’t.

| Φ |

“it really brings me so much joy to have been able to help you, toji.”

“haha, thanks, but god, i just had so much more to say to her, ya know? but i think there’s still a chance, and i have you to thank for it.”

| Φ |

having toji fushiguro back in her life didn’t seem real.

it was slow and awkward, like dipping her toe into the cold sea again after having forgotten what it felt like. of course, he couldn’t stay in town for too long. tokyo and his work were calling him back, and she understood. so, they mainly kept in touch through texting, which was basically an all day affair. every spare moment they had, whether it was in between her making a cup of coffee, during study breaks, or toji in between training sessions. it would be a lie to say she wasn’t clinging tightly to every text, or that her heart didn’t leap every time her phone buzzed.

but it was also easy.

something she could nestle into, like a gentle wind beneath a bird’s wings.

sometime during the quiet nights of spring, they began calling each other to fill the silence.

“hey,” toji would greet, a bashful shyness in his voice, and she could tell that he was smiling.

she’d bite her lip to keep her own smile from forming. “hi.”

he’d ask her about her day, and all about what she was doing – every little mundane detail, as if toji was trying to collect all the parts of her that he’d missed. she told him about about her course, what she had been up to, and even about the summer she spent with satoru. he’d even ask her to remind him of some of the theories and laws she had told him about all those years ago, and she couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted to genuinely learn them again or if he just wanted to keep her on the phone longer.

she asked him about his life too. she learned that it was only a month after he arrived in tokyo that toji bumped into shiu kong in a random pachinko parlor. they had gotten talking, and before toji could count to three, shiu was already drawing up business plans for their doja on the back of a napkin. it was perfect, really. toji had the physical experience, and shiu had the connections – and, most importantly, the money.

“you know, i don’t think i’ll ever get used to just having money like this,” toji admitted, and she wanted to cry.

one day, after clearly skirting around the topic for some time, toji finally asked her, “so, uh, is satoru your…” he smacked his lips together. “boyfriend?”

“pft! no.”

his relief had been quite palpable.

“what about you?” she returned, chewing the inside of her cheek and tasting acrid metal. “have you been seeing anybody in tokyo?”

“no,” toji replied gently, like it was so silly she even asked in the first place. “not one.”

she knew her pathetic relief was most definitely palpable.

although, it wasn’t always so easy.

more often than not, just when they thought they had slipped into a sense of familiarity, the harsh reminders of the past came knocking. both of them would test the waters, perhaps asking a question that was too deep, too painful – usually about how they had coped in those early days of being apart.

it was just too hard for either of them to hear the answers. toji didn’t exactly enjoy hearing just how much she had hated him, or how utterly crippled she was for the first couple of months after he left. she could tell that it tore him up on the inside, and a part of her liked it. he deserved to feel every ounce of guilt he was capable of, and then some.

“you want to know what it felt like for me, do you?” she hissed, so much venom gushing from her bite that it even surprised her. “well, i’ll fucking tell you then.”

and she did, in great detail.

toji would snap back too, it was only human of him to.

“what, you think i had an easy time trying to fix myself?” he’d say, his voice quaking and breaking apart her resolve. “i didn’t. i was fucking miserable all the fucking time, and everytime i looked in the mirror i had my scar reminding me of my biggest fuck-up to date.”

those conversations usually ended up with her abruptly hanging up the phone and crying herself to sleep.

but she would always wake up to a message from toji, and they were always so incredibly gentle. he’d tell her how he just wanted them both to shed the weight of all their pain off their shoulders, and for her not to worry about how he felt heari all those things. that he could take it all – the pain, everything.

and that he still wasnt going anywhere.

it really struck her in those moments just how much he had changed.

still, there was something holding her back from falling back into him again.

and she wasn’t sure if it was because of satoru, who was less than impressed by it all.

“he called you, didn’t he?” he asked the day after toji called the first time, twirling a sugar packet between his fingers like he didn’t care what her answer was.

she gave him a look, saying nothing, and licked her dry lips.

he let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “so…what? are you two back together now?”

“no,” she admitted quietly, feeling like a child about to be scolded. “but i’ve given him a chance.”

satoru’s eyes flashed a bright cerulean, like a star burning the brightest blue it ever could, before his gaze hardened.

finally, he grunted, “i get it.”

she almost spilled the latte she had been preparing.

he quirked a brow at her incredulous look and muttered, “i can’t sit here and pretend i wouldn’t do the same for suguru if i was able to.”

but before her smile could look too relieved, satoru added rather sharply, “but that doesn’t mean i like this.”

and that was that.

he never once asked how they were getting on or what they talked about. whenever her phone buzzed with a notification, he stared at it like he wanted to burn holes into it, but he said nothing – only a tight grimace appeared on his face, and that told her exactly how he felt about toji fushiguro.

and now, it was the end of her very last semester in the world of academics.

it was really dawning on her this time that her goodbyes would be final. that these last couple of months would be her last at the cafe and at the studio apartment she had eventually learned to love. on satoru’s insistence, she had decided to move on and get a proper job after graduating. he had told her he knew some contacts in tokyo who could hook them both up with decent jobs within the industry, and who was she to say no to that?

besides, it was nice to know that she wouldn’t be alone in this big, bad world.

she slipped through the door of the cafe, wiping the damp from her shoes on the entrance mat. there weren’t many students in studying at this time, the busier hours actually came later, at the start of the all-nighters. the students must have all heard that it was a quiet cafe at night, and now everyone came at the same time. the smell of sweet, buttery pastries made her tummy grumble, and she put a hand over her abdomen, as if that would quiet it down.

it did, because sitting right at the booth by the counter, was toji.

with satoru.

both their expressions were unreadable, but toji was hunched forward, nodding solemnly to whatever it was satoru was saying. her best friend had a towel draped over his taut shoulder, his starlight hair a mess, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times.

she hesitated at the door.

what is going on?

satoru noticed her first, and his sentence trailed off like fading music. his gaze held hers firmly, fiercely. she felt that if she looked away, the world would crumble beneath her feet, and she would surely die. then, toji turned too, and the wind was knocked right out of her.

the cafe suddenly felt too small, not nearly big enough for all three of them and the weight of their pasts. satoru moved first, beckoning her over with his hand. her feet moved of their own accord, like she was a piece of metal drawn towards a magnet, helpless in trying to resist his pull.

“well,” satoru said lightly, placing the towel onto the counter. “i was just leaving.”

her throat tightened. “satoru.”

she didn’t know why the thought of being alone with toji felt more terrifying than being with both of them together, but it did. but the look that he gave her stopped her cold. it wasn’t harsh, not in the slightest, but it was mesmerizing – a thousand and one blue stars were exploding in his eyes. it made her heart hurt, her head swim with all the colors that made satoru gojo who he was. and then the stars softened into something warm and comforting, and she knew he was trying to tell her something without words.

he glanced at toji.

then back to her, giving her a barely perceptible nod.

it’s okay.

you can trust him.

she huffed a breath, the relief hitting her all at once. satoru turned back to toji, giving him a brief nod, and then he was out of the door.

a folded sheet of paper lay in front of toji, his large hand placed over it like he was afraid it might flutter away. she stood behind the counter now, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she tied her apron.

“i wanted to give this back to you,” toji said before she could say anything, a dusting of pretty pink on his cheeks as he slid the paper towards her. “i’m sorry for ripping your book.”

she unfolded the familiar paper, noting how the creases were soft and a little worn, and skimmed over the words.

oh my.

it was the page satoru had told her was missing from her book, the one about the theory of relativity, and right there in the corner was the equation for quantum entanglement written in blue ink.

“you once told me that when two particles belong together, they’ll always be connected no matter the distance between them. i’ve never forgotten it, not once this whole time.”

and then his hand was over hers, and the world and her heart was on fire.

“you still believe it?” she asked, her voice trembling, as she stared down at his thumb brushing her knuckles with a tenderness she had forgotten.

“yeah, because everything that i do, and everything that i am, is you.”

she didn’t know what toji fushiguro and satoru gojo had said to each other that day.

and perhaps she never would.

but as she poured toji a fresh batch of green tea into a big mug the way she used to, it didn’t really matter at all, did it?

| Φ |

“take care now, and i wish you all the best.”

“goodbye! and really, thankyou. for everything.”

| Φ |

today was a profoundly bittersweet occasion.

“satoru! i can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“well, you might want to start soon.”

it was her graduation day.

again.

there was some parts of it that felt unnervingly familiar, setting her teeth a slightly on edge at the reminders of the past. her kimono was laid neatly on her bed, exactly as it had been the first time. she was sat cross-legged in front of a mirror doing her makeup exactly the same way as she had on that fateful day.

but this time, it already felt better than it did the last time.

she wasn’t paralyzed with worry over the disappearance of a certain dark haired boy. she wasn’t sitting here working herself into a nervous fit over her future. no, she was here, in a new home with her best friend in the whole world. the one who had held her chin and tilted her head for her to look back up towards the stars. the one who had helped steady her shaking bones, his arms around her as he had called back the scattered atoms of her broken soul.

she looked at him fondly, far too fondly, and her angel of the stars looked back at her, alarmingly perplexed, his cheeks flushed in a bright strawberry red. “what?” he mumbled shyly.

he only got a giggle from her, her knees bouncing off the floor with a rush of excitement. she grinned as she she delicately swiped her mascara over her lashes, and satoru shook his head in confusion. he sat down carefully at the edge of her bed, smoothing out any little folds that had formed in her kimono. it was satoru’s graduation gift to her, actually – the kimono. they had picked out the fabric together, spending hours hiking through ridiculously expensive textiles that she insisted was too much, before settling on a luxuriously silky material with green and blue sakura flowers fluttering down the length of the fabric.

“you should have a piece of me on that stage,” he’d said, pointing to the blue petals, then to the green. “and i guess he deserves to be there too.”

it was then easy for her to decide that satoru gojo must be an angel.

she glanced at him again. “are you going to go and get ready, or what?”

“oh, psht! that wont take me long, don’t worry.”

he was currently in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, hair extra fluffy and untamable, and looked absolutely nowhere near ready to attend a graduation ceremony in less than an hour and a half.

“you better not, or i’ll actually kill you.”

satoru only rolled his eyes at that. “yeah yeah, sure. so you can give toji my ticket? no chance.”

while there had been a fragile peace between the two, and satoru didn’t grimace everytime she mentioned toji, he certainly still wasn’t as fond of the dark haired boy as she would have liked by this point.

“speaking of,” satoru continued with an air of nonchalance. “what is the guy doing today without a ticket?”

it had already been decided some time ago that satoru would be the one to have the spare ticket to her graduation. by the time toji had started getting closer to her, it had been too late to change it, and maybe it was also the faint lingering trauma from what had happened at the last one. she was hesitant to give it to him, and it would be a lie to say that toji wasnt disappointed.

though he had tried his best to hide it, she could see right through him.

“oh, he said he would try and sneak in the back to watch. if not, i’ll just meet him at the cafe later tonight.”

her best friend only hummed, watching with fascinated interested, his head tilted as she put her makeup on.

“sneaking in, huh? doesn’t really seem like his style.”

she shrugged her shoulders, blending an extra touch of concealer with her fingers. “he really wants to try and be there for me this time, you know?”

“as he should. i was sorta worried about you both for a while.”

“huh, you? worried about toji?”

“yeah, you’re right. it’s more of a very bland interest.”

she gave him a hard look.

“okay, okay! honestly though, i felt like the only thing stopping him from really getting to you was me. and that after we had that conversation, he would just dive straight back into what you guys had without a second thought.”

she glanced at satoru through the mirror. “well, neither of you want to tell me what you said to each other.”

“mind your business!”

“pft!”

“anyways, i guess it was more that i was worried about something happening and it tearing you apart again. i can’t watch that happen, not after you’ve just put yourself back together.”

satoru sighed, his knee bouncing rapidly. “and, well… i suppose i can only really ask you about how it's going.”

her hands suddenly felt stiff, and she set down her brush. “it’s not… easy, sometimes. we’ve talked about everything that happened, and its painful, but it also just feels good. there’s a part of me that feels more stitched together than i did before. we’re not perfect yet, but we’re both trying, and it’s nice.”

she added more softly. “we laugh more than we used to. a lot now, actually.”

the blue nebula in his eyes sparkled. “yeah?”

“haha, yeah.”

satoru hummed thoughtfully, “you really think its different this time?”

“yeah, i do, satoru.”

“you know, i’ve never told you this, but you say my name the way suguru used to.”

a shaky, lopsided smile played on her lips, her eyes glossing over. “he must have really loved you then.”

satoru’s pearly lashes fluttered, as if he was startled by the weight of her words, and another bashful blush spread across his cheeks, his lips forming a glossy pout.

“like i do,” she added, more teasingly this time. “in case that wasnt obvious enough already.”

“right, okay,” satoru huffed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned his head away from her. “don’t get all mushy on me now, miss graduate.”

he got up and patted down his jeans, his fingers slipping into his left pocket to feel for his invitation. “i guess i’ll see you after it’s over.”

she squealed excitedly. “okay! see you later!”

| Φ |

the air outside the auditorium was positively electric.

huh, i must have missed out on this feeling the last time.

there were plenty of nervous, jittery smiles and hand shakes as the waiting room buzzed with static energy. she mingled briefly with some of her classmates, musing with them at how far they had come and all the challenges they had overcome. some of them even talked about what their plans were for the future, a few jaws dropping when she quietly admitted where she would be working in tokyo. soon enough, they were all being ushered in to take their seats on the stage.

the reality of the moment was really sinking in as she took her seat. as she smoothed out her kimono, her eyes scanned the seemingly endless rows, which were filling fast with family members and close friends.

she frowned.

satoru’s unmistakable starlight hair was nowhere to be seen.

he must be running late. hopefully he gets here before it starts.

the lights dimmed, and the doors at the back of the auditorium shut with a decisive thud.

i’m really going to kill him.

her heart panged with disappointment.

and then she saw him.

toji fushiguro.

the boy with dark hair who used to never have much to say, and was perfectly happy with not being liked by anybody – except her. the boy with forests in his eyes and a scar on his lip that he didn’t let anybody touch – except her.

the one who hadn’t been there the last time and almost seemed out of place now.

but he was here – for her.

because she was the unexpected variable, the singular exception that had been thrown into his routine equation just to shake the foundations of his existence. and maybe there would be other inexplicable formulas – there probably would – but that didn’t matter. she knew the angels had entangled them together, and there was nothing more to do or say about it. because no matter what had happened, or what would happen, they belonged to each other.

there was a constant pull for each other souls through the broken skin of a golden scar.

satoru must have given him his ticket.

toji was grinning at her, so proud and perfect, standing up and clapping for her like she was the only person in the room as she accepted her certificate.

the music of the angels played on in her mind, bright and clear, for one last time.

and her equation was finally solved.

| Φ |

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Sound, color, touch

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 17

Prompt: Lights

Rated: E

Tags: Magic AU; Established relationship; Married Steddie; Explicit sexual content

Notes: Once more for the Phantom Thief boys! I published the first part of this exactly 363 days ago, for last year's holiday drabble challenge. I'm not crying, you're crying!!

In the end, it's just the two of them again. 

The kids have gone home, the girls have left for Chrissy’s place, and Wayne's retired to his room. Eddie puts out the fire in the tavern's guest room while Steve cleans the kitchen. 

It's weird, he thinks as he wipes the counter, how much the place changes after closing time. How it goes so much darker, so much quieter. How the life and the lights and the laughter drain out of it, leaving it empty and silent. Like a place removed from the world - miles and miles under the sea or above the clouds, where you could scream for hours and days and years without being heard.

Eddie’s slots into him from behind, blanketing him in his warmth. His hands come to rest on top of Steve’s, taking the rag from his fingers. His lips find Steve’s neck and shoulders, kissing the tension out of his muscles.

"I’m here, honey,” Eddie says, words slicing through the silence. He doesn’t keep his voice low. Knows that Steve needs sound and color and touch. “Say it with me?”

Steve exhales, letting Eddie’s warmth bleed into the places where it’s cold and dark. “You’re here.” 

Eddie hums, turning him around so that he can kiss his forehead. “Let's go upstairs?” 

*

Eddie never stops kissing him as they make their way up the stairs.

Their room is in the attic, the single wall dominated by a large stained glass window. 

Eddie’s lips caress every inch of his skin as he lays him out on the bed, only pausing long enough to rid them of their clothes. Steve shudders, tipping back his head to give him better access, gaze catching on the painted ceiling above their bed. Eddie outdid himself with it. A purple and blue sky at dawn, the moon and stars twinkling between mountains of puffy clouds. 

In the beginning, Steve thought it was a trick of the light. That it was the glow of the window making the clouds look like they were lit in all the colors of the sunset, making the stars appear like white, winking needlepoints against the darkening firmament. 

The sound he made when he understood what it really was made Eddie laugh so hard he slipped out of him and collapsed by his side in a naked, cackling tangle of limbs. Steve slapped him. 

“Stop laughing, you asshole. Since when- … Why didn’t- … Fuck, Eddie, is it back? All of it?” 

Eddie shook his head and smiled, dark eyes shining with the lights from above. 

“Only a small bit of it,” he said. “Enough for a few tricks.” 

When he held up his hand, a firework of tiny sparks was crackling between his fingertips. Steve watched it, happiness clogging his chest, guilt tightening his throat, grief twisting his stomach, and the lights turned blurry. Eddie made a soft sound, magic fizzling out as he pulled him close. 

“It's so little,” Steve said when the tears had dried and he lay with his ear pressed close to Eddie’s heartbeat, gazing at their very own sunset above. “You used to be a fucking force of nature, and now-” 

“And now I'm the happiest I've ever been,” Eddie said, lifting Steve’s hand to kiss his wedding band. “I'm with the man I love and I get to kiss him every day, every hour, every moment, for as long as we both live.” 

Steve opened his mouth, but Eddie pressed their entwined hands into the sheets, reaching between them with the other, and he forgot what he was about to say.

“And besides,” Eddie purred, picking up speed and bending down to suck a mark into Steve’s neck, grinning when the slick sounds of him stroking Steve’s cock mingled with breathy moans. “Are you saying I’m not a force of nature now, honey?” 

Now, many months later, Steve feels no bitterness looking at the lights twinkling on their ceiling. Instead, he arches his back and tangles one hand in Eddie’s messy curls as their lips meet, letting himself fall into the moment. 

The world is sound. Gasps and moans and whispered confessions of love, shared in the sliver of space between their lips. 

The world is color. Eddie’s eyes reflecting the light of the stars, pale skin and dark hair backlit by the shifting kaleidoscope of the painted sky behind him. 

The world is touch. The delicious pressure of Eddie’s fingers scissoring him open, the beautiful burn of Eddie slipping inside, of Eddie’s tongue coaxing apart his lips.

*

“Remember how you told me not to fall for you?” Steve asks later, when they’re both sated and exhausted, wrapped up in each other between the sheets. Eddie laughs, loud and boisterous, sweeping some sweaty bangs aside to kiss his forehead. “Did you really mean it?”

Eddie goes silent, connecting the moles on Steve’s arms with one finger as he thinks. 

“Yes and no,” he says. “I wanted you, even then. Even though I never thought I’d have you. And at the same time … I knew what you’d have to risk. Or thought I knew. I never saw any of it coming. The lengths they’d go to, the horrible things they’d do to you.”

He trails off, and this time, it’s Steve’s turn to pull him in and hold him close.

“Do you ever regret it?” Eddie whispers against his chest. “Falling in love with me?”

“Never,” Steve says. “I don’t think I could ever regret it. If asked, I’d do it all over again, in the exact same way, if it’ll lead me back here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, eyes outshining the stars in the dark of their room. “Yeah, me too.”

They kiss under this sky that’s just for them, and it’s everything Steve never knew he needed, everything he’s ever wanted. Sound and color and touch. He wants to keep kissing Eddie like this forever.

He knows they’ll never stop. 

Tag list:

@sourw0lfs @bananahoneycomb @firefly-party @whoneedscanon @steddie-island

@sidekick-hero @theheadlessphilosopher @extra-transitional @penny00dreadful @medusapelagia

@mugloversonly @0happyeverafter0 @stevesbipanic @acingthecounts @sweetheartprincess28

@starryeyedjanai @sailing-through-hawkins @original-cypher @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (14) - Eye of the Tiger

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part (Season 1 finale)

Word count: 4.5k

-It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight-

You took several deep breaths, red eyes glaring at Laurel and what you assumed was revived Crackstone. For a moment you felt your lightning growing stronger, almost overwhelming you, threatening to burst through. You’ve spent too much time in lightning form to get across the lake and you could feel control you had slipping as the colors around you began fading. You knew one thing, you needed to finish this fast.

Something red caught your attention and you looked closely to see a gash across Wednesday’s palm. There was dried blood on the side of her head as well. “Sorry I’m late,” you said as the two of you stood up and faced Laurel and Crackstone.

Laurel smirked lightly and walked over to the wall. “I didn’t think you’d show up Y/N, with the lake in your way and your fear of water, but, I prepared just in case,” she said and you saw a wide hose near the wall she was heading toward.

“Shit!” you didn’t need to think long to understand what that meant. You threw your knife toward her, only to suddenly feel strong pressure keeping you from moving.

You gritted your teeth as Crackstone lifted his staff, holding you and Wednesday in place. “You feral beasts have stood in my way for too long! Burn!” he hollered, sending a torrent of flames toward you and Wednesday.

You could have zapped away, freed yourself from his hold, but Wednesday was right behind you.

“Go,” Wednesday ordered you, yet you didn’t listen, you just surrounded the two of you with your lightning, weakening the flames and clashing with them. The heat was similar, red flames colliding with darker, but still red, lightning, made it almost impossible to withstand the heat.

“Too close,” you focused on expanding your lightning, on pushing It away from Wednesday and you until the energy within two forces of nature exploded and pushed the two of you and Crackstone back a few steps.

He didn’t look tired, while you just dropped to one knee, feeling the fatigue of staying in control sneak up on you.

“Here, this will cool you down,” Laurel laughed and the stream of water hit you and Wednesday at the same time.

“Salt!” you gasped, realizing it wasn’t just regular water, Laurel raised the salinity of it and likely added something to it to make it stick to your body like the paint did. You dropped down, clenching your fists as you struggled to hold the lightning in.

“Go ahead and discharge Y/N! Oh, sorry, you’d kill Wednesday if you did!” she laughed, soaking everything around you as well, she used up so much water it covered the entire floor up to your wrists.

“She’ll kill you too,” Wednesday threatened, kneeling down next to you, but luckily not touching you.

“Wednesday, run,” you hissed, unsure of how much time you had left until you’d either discharge or, even worse, shift.

“Lucifer’s mistress cannot run, beast,” Crackstone once again raised his staff, pinning the two of you down. “You’ll be buried beneath the stones, your bodies never to be found!” the whips of fire struck the ceiling, making pebbles fall from it as the old, fragile building began shaking under the pressure of his telekinesis and flames.

“Sweet dreams, Wednesday, Y/N,” Laurel taunted you as the two of them made their way outside.

You couldn’t fight it anymore, even if you could, there was no other way.

“You better hope this kills us!” even your voice was changing, growing deeper, more guttural and Wednesday saw you tensing, your body heating up so much steam was starting to come from the water beneath you despite Crackstone’s ability still holding the two of you down.

As the crypt began falling on the two of you, you broke through telekinesis and pulled Wednesday beneath you. Your eyes went from red to orange in a flash, the colors lost their intensity, the dim light became more than enough for you to see, the scent of candles, salt, smoke, of Wednesday, intensified, and you could feel your body shifting.

~X~

She wasn’t sure how much time passed, you pulled her so hard she briefly got dizzy and lost consciousness due to Laurel knocking her out with a shovel. So, Wednesday didn’t know how long ago Laurel and Crackstone left. As Wednesday slowly blinked, still disoriented from the building collapsing on the two of you she heard panting above her, angry, animalistic, no, beastly, breathing combined with low growls and intense buzzing of lightning all around her. Yet she didn’t feel it, she wasn’t electrocuted, it was as if her immediate surroundings were spared from the rage of lightning. And she forced herself to open her eyes, despite the throbbing pain in her head. She was met with the sight from her vision, the one she had when she touched Rowan, of the beast standing above her.

The orange and black fur, the mane, the large, sharp fangs that could easily pierce right through her, the paws that could easily rip someone in two, and the size of the beast… she couldn’t be sure from her position beneath it, but from her estimation it was nearly seven feet tall, and likely twice as long, tail excluded. A magnificent tiger stood above her, standing despite the roof of the building falling right on top of it, protecting her from the fallen debris and certain death. An explosion of lightning from the beast’s, no, your body destroyed everything around Wednesday, turning the stone of the crypt into pebbles and dust. Wednesday coughed at that and you looked down, your orange eyes staring wildly into her own.

How aware were you really? Was Faulkner right? “Y/N?” she tried, gauging your reaction. You growled, baring your teeth, but you didn’t attack her, you just stared down at her as if trying to recognize her. A few moments later Wednesday saw a glimmer of recognition in your eyes and you stepped away from her to make your way to the fallen knife you claimed as your own after Wednesday threw it at you. You bent down, taking it gently between your teeth, with your size you could easily swallow it, instead you went back to Wednesday and, as she sat up a bit, carefully placed the knife on top of her stomach. You nudged her arm toward it in a way that didn’t fit your size, so lightly she barely felt your fur brushing against her. You lay down, just waiting for Wednesday to get it together and get up.

Even in this form you were being you, making Wednesday wonder why you were ever afraid of shifting and losing control. “We need to get back to the school and stop Crackstone and Laurel,” she told you, though she guessed it was futile as you didn’t budge. The lightning coming out of your body wasn’t intense, it was coming out from your feet and tail, and a bit from your eyes and mouth when you opened it, but it didn’t indicate you were completely out of control. At least as far as Faulkner’s diary told her.

She sighed. All the power you had, and it would go to waste because Wednesday wasn’t sure how to direct it and you didn’t know how to either. Yet, as she turned to leave you blocked her path with your head and nudged her back, toward your back. You moved your head back slightly, motioning toward your back and Wednesday wasn’t sure if she was reading you right or not, but she placed her hand on your back, just behind the shoulder blades and you nodded.

“You want me to get on your back?” she asked and you nodded, almost sounding like you just huffed in confirmation.

Was that why you were lying down? So Wednesday could climb on top of you more easily. Because, as much as it annoyed her to admit that, she wouldn’t be able to climb on your back with your current height if you were standing.

With some effort, because you were still a large beast even when you were lying down, she climbed onto your back and grabbed onto your mane, realizing that you were an amur tiger, instead of one of the other subspecies. Wednesday wasn’t sure if grabbing onto your mane would set you off, or if you would get aggressive, but there wasn’t anything else she could hold on to. And from the looks of it you didn’t mind, as you got up and jumped over the remaining walls of the crypt.

Wednesday used to ride on Kitty’s back as a child, but Kitty was more like a house cat compared to you and the force of the jump took her by surprise. Luckily, you stopped, turning your head to check on her.

Ridiculous lightning beast.

At least act like an uncontrollable beast, you were more like an oversized pet than anything else right now.

“I’m fine, go,” she told you and you tilted your head. Was your ability to understand human speech disappearing, because Wednesday was sure you somewhat understood a more complex sentence mere moments ago. She pointed toward Nevermore and before she could even say one word you took off, not sprinting, but still running in the direction she wanted you to.

You reached the lake and Wednesday thought you’d stop, that this was as far as she’d get, with no boat she had no hopes of catching up to Crackstone and Laurel. Her eyes widened when a ball of orange lightning formed ahead of you, and then another further ahead, she watched, her fingers digging into your mane as you created more and more balls of lightning above the lake, and then you jumped on the one closest to you.

The ball dispersed when you touched it, but it was enough for you to jump to the next one, not quite zapping, but moving along the lightning path forming as each lightning ball burst open. The long, powerful jumps, the control, the definitive lack of fear of water, it made her realize you weren’t entirely you in this form. At your core you were still you, but you were driven more by instincts than anything else, you were doing things Wednesday was sure you couldn’t do in your human form.

You landed on the shore with the grace only a cat could have and took a few steps before collapsing.

Wednesday climbed off you and knelt next to your head. “Y/N?” she called your name and you opened your eyes, blinking slowly before yawning. “You did enough,” she told you, and she believed that. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was reasonable to assume you used up a lot of energy to get across the lake twice. It wasn’t a small lake either.

You chuffed and nudged her lightly and even though she was running out of time Wednesday placed her hand on top of your head, just feeling the warm fur against her palm. And then, one small, harmless discharge later her hand fell on top of your head.

Your human head.

“What?!” you sat up abruptly, as if suddenly woken up from deep slumber. Maybe you were. You rubbed the top of your head. “Why would you hit me like that?” you whined and looked around. “What the? How did we…?”

Wednesday remained silent, stunned by your inability to remember what happened.

“Did I shift?” you seemed to piece together the only possible way the two of you could have survived a building falling on top of you and then making your way across the lake. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you looked her over, frantically searching for any injuries.

“Given the size of you you could have torn me in two,” Wednesday deadpanned, somewhat enjoying the way you stopped breathing at that revelation. “You were,” she wasn’t sure what word to use. “I wasn’t in danger,” she settled down on that, telling you what you likely needed to hear the most.

You let your head drop and sighed in relief. “That’s a relief,” you whispered, your body trembling slightly. It was clear to Wednesday that you were exhausted.

“You don’t remember anything?” she just had to ask.

You shook your head. “Bits and pieces at best, and even that is vague,” with a groan you managed to get back to your feet. “We need to get back to school,” you were struggling to even stand, and you still wanted to keep going?

Wednesday sighed and put your arm over her shoulders. “Come on,” you smiled apologetically and began walking with her help. Luckily, it didn’t take long for you to recover your energy. It must have been the shifting and switching between two and four legs that left you weaker than usual.

~X~

By the time you were about halfway to Nevermore you could walk on your own, which you figured was lucky, because you heard a werewolf howling and not all of them were friendly during full moon, especially during full blood moon. And you were still recovering, unsure if your lightning would be strong enough to deal with a werewolf.

You weren’t ready for a fight, but hopefully by the time you reach Nevermore you would be able to help Wednesday.

You heard the rustling of the leaves before you saw him and you couldn’t help but curse your luck as Tyler came from behind a tree.

“Laurel said you were dead,” the harmless, even kind of shy, barista was gone. All you saw was the killer terrorizing Jericho over the past few months.

“You must have been disappointed,” Wednesday glared at him.

“I was. I didn’t get to keep my promise and bring you the beast’s head. Now I can kill you both together,” he approached, walking like a predator that found his prey.

“This won’t end well for you,” Wednesday threatened, standing between him and you, and if she wasn’t standing between you and a monster that ripped people apart you would feel very happy. The problem was, she was standing between you and a monster that could rip her apart.

Lightning crackled around you and you were ready to move the moment Tyler did something, but you weren’t ready for his eyes bulging in an almost comical way. Truly, seeing the transformation take place was as horrifying as it was hilarious as his body grew and burst out of his clothes. Just how many articles of clothing did he ruin over the past few months?

Tyler roared and swiped his clawed hand up. He no longer needed Wednesday alive and she was still injured. So you grabbed her hand, pulling her back and taking the hit. The claws dug into your left shoulder, piercing the skin, but you managed to zap away, slamming into the nearby tree to avoid Tyler’s claws tearing your shoulder apart.

“Y/N!” you never wanted to hear Wednesday shouting your name like that.

Tyler growled, and you opened your eyes to see him standing above Wednesday. Why wasn’t she running, damn it? It wouldn’t help if she was alone, but you just needed a few seconds! You got up to your hands and knees, blood dripping onto the grass as rage ignited the lightning within you, the fatigue seemed to be burnt through, it was as if you suddenly got a second wind. “Tyler!” you yelled, getting his attention, he turned to face you, roaring as you got to your feet and charged at him, your body engulfed in lightning as his clawed hand collided with your fist. He stepped back, roaring in pain as your lightning electrocuted him.

You were ready to keep going, when something similar to a werewolf flew into Tyler, tackled him to the ground and slammed him into a tree.

“Holy shit,” you weren’t even that angry anymore, just impressed by what just happened.

“Enid?” Wednesday guessed as she took a better look at the werewolf that had now turned around to face you.

“Enid?!” you turned to Wednesday in disbelief, before taking a better look. The hair, the slightly smaller size, her eyes, and that ‘I did it’ look on her face confirmed it. “Hell yeah! That’s the way!” you pumped your fist up.

“Enid!” Wednesday was the first to notice Tyler getting up.

“We got this! Just go!” you threw a knife toward Tyler, zapping toward it and kicking his arm away before he could hit Enid. And to prove the two of you were a fairly decent team Enid immediately took a chance and kicked Tyler away. “Right, Enid?” you smirked at the girl that finally got to wolf out.

Enid nodded, offering you a wolfish smirk, and bumping her clawed fist/paw with your own.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Wednesday nodding reluctantly. She was needed at the school, and you and Enid could handle Tyler. “Be careful,” she told the two of you, though you could hear the unspoken threat in her voice as she said that. Be careful, or I’ll make you regret it.

Well, that was how Wednesday was.

Tyler got up, furiously glaring at the two of you. You could feel your lightning growing weaker, the adrenaline was fading away and you felt your body growing numb from overuse. Usually, your body would be the first to give out, but this time you were close to depleting all your reserves. At least you didn’t have to worry about losing control and shifting, you doubted you had enough power left to do it.

“I was confident while Wednesday was here, but I’m running low. I can’t do much more than provide support. Sorry about that,” you apologized, you’d make sure Enid wouldn’t get seriously injured, actually, you’d try to make sure she doesn’t get hit at all, but it was a fight, you couldn’t guarantee that.

Enid nodded, charging at Tyler. He raised his arm up, ready to slam her down when she approached, but you zapped to the side of him and hit him with a lightning strike from about a dozen feet away. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt him, but it stunned him, allowing Enid to tackle him and cut him with her claws.

You landed on the ground and put your hands down on it. “Enid! Get back!” the moment she heard you, Enid jumped away from Tyler. As he sat up you sent lightning through the ground, making it burst through it just underneath him. One more. You had one good strike left, and you’d have to make it count.

Tyler roared in pain, his skin smoking as he fled into the woods. Enid gave chase, knowing you couldn’t let him escape. You couldn’t let him go after Wednesday. You were about to go after him as well, but your vison got blurry, and you had to lean against a tree for a moment. One more attack. You had to make it count.

With a growl that sounded a lot more like that of a tiger you pushed your body to move, running after Enid and Tyler. If only you knew exactly where they were. You heard a whine to your left and rushed there, but all you saw was Enid on the ground, bleeding. You ran toward her, and that moment of lowering your guard cost you, as Tyler grabbed you from behind and slammed you onto the ground. With wind knocked out of your lungs you could only gasp as he pressed his claws against your chest. Any moment now he’d pierce through your skin and kill you. And he was enjoying it, you could see it on his face, in his eyes. Was this what Wednesday saw in her vision?

“You… made her worry,” you gasped, the need to survive overpowering the exhaustion. And your lightning turned orange once again.

~X~

You roared, paralyzing the enemy above you. It was weak, unable to hold you down. So easy to push off without even using lightning. Barely three seconds after you shifted the positions were changed. You pressed your paw against the struggling monster, its claws bouncing off your lightning covered legs and chest. You roared and lightning burst through you, destroying the branches above you.

The monster looked afraid, whining weakly as your own claws came out, covered in lightning. They pierced and burnt through the monster’s skin. There wasn’t even any blood there, the wounds closing because of the heat right away.

An unfamiliar loud and sharp sound pierced through your ears and you felt pain in your right shoulder. It wasn’t covered by lightning before, but now it was. It hurt, something was stuck in your body. So, you magnetized it and pushed it out. It was small, round, but it still caused you pain.

“Get away from my son!” you didn’t understand what those sounds meant, but they came from the human holding something in his hands. He was shaking, frightened, but he wasn’t backing away.

You stepped away from the enemy beneath you, slowly stalking toward the human. You weren’t in a rush. If they ran, you’d just go after them.

You heard the monster getting up, and it jumped toward you from behind. You just growled, creating two orbs of lightning and slamming them into the monster. Smoke came from its body, and it fell to the ground, unmoving and changing back into its human form.

“Tyler!” the man cried out and looked like her wanted to run toward the monster.

You roared, warning the man to stay put. It wouldn’t be long now.

Screaming in fear he tried to attack you again. But you recognized the sharp sounds this time, and destroyed those pesky round things with your lightning before they could reach you.

Something else came between you and the man. A canine creature that didn’t give any signs that it wanted a fight. It whined, as if calling you. The creature smelled familiar and you stopped. Curious to see what it would do. Something else came along. A severed body part that moved, that was alive. It approached you, tapping the ground in front of you.

The sounds meant nothing to you, but deep down there was something nostalgic about it.

Something. A place. Room. Two humans and the hand. You.

You lowered your head to the ground, lightning backing away from it so it wouldn’t hurt the hand in front of you. You nudged him with your head, and he grabbed on, climbing to the top of your head much to your surprise. You shook your head to shake him off, but as he kept clinging you wondered how you knew the hand was a he? He kept tapping something on the top of your head, and you still didn’t understand.

It didn’t matter. The sound was bringing you back. Thing. This was Thing! Not some random hand, he was a friend. So was the werewolf. Enid. She wolfed out. She fought with you to stop Tyler. To protect Wednesday.

Wednesday. She was at school. You needed to get to her.

~X~

You growled, shifting back and falling down to the ground, panting as you clutched at the grass in front of you. You had no idea what just happened, but Enid, still in her werewolf form, stumbled toward you and transformed back into her human form. Thing just patted your hand and then moved to comfort her as well.

“I’m going back to school, Wednesday might still need help,” you stumbled back to your feet and took your jacket off, covering Enid’s body.

“Yeah, go get her. We’ll be fine,” Enid encouraged you and Thing gave you a thumbs up.

You nodded and, though it was a struggle, began making your way back to Nevermore.

What would you even accomplish when you got there? Did you even have it in you to fight anymore? You doubted you did, but you were betting on adrenaline to give you that one last push if Wednesday needed you. Because you’d be damned if something happened to her while you were lying around and resting.

You managed to reach the pentagon, but you severely overestimated your abilities, by the time you got there you couldn’t even stand properly, let alone fight. You tried to zap to Wednesday, to get her away from Crackstone as he pinned her down with his telekinesis, but you just dropped to your knees, unable to produce a single spark. “Come on, come on, damn it,” but your body wouldn’t move.

Especially when you saw Bianca stabbing Crackstone. Was it over? You watched in horror as the man’s wound regenerated and he easily threw Bianca to the side and while Wednesday got up and tried to stab him with a broken blade he managed to push back against her with his telekinesis.

And the world around you went black.

~X~

Wednesday tried to push through, to break through the man’s defense, but her blade wouldn’t go through. And then a burst of lightning and a tiger paw swiped between her and Crackstone, ripping off both of his arms and leaving him wide open for Wednesday to pierce his heart.

Wednesday took a few steps back as the resurrected man let out a chilling, inhuman cry and vanished in dust and smoke. She took a couple of deep breaths, it was over.

“Wednesday get back! Stay away from Y/N!” Bianca’s warning caught her by surprise. Why? You just helped her once again. And then she heard a roar that sent shivers down her spine, a roar that froze her in place in a way that was so instinctual, so primal, she barely even remembered reading about the ability of the tiger’s roar to paralyze the prey. She thought she experienced fear when she saw Crackstone in her vision, but this was much deeper, this struck fear into her heart and bones, into her entire being. She blinked a few times, searching for you in the quad and there you were, ready to pounce and tear through anyone who approached you.

Wednesday’s eyes widened as she took in your appearance, you were still a tiger, but you were almost entirely covered in lightning. All the reason, all the control you had, it was gone, all that was left was the wild beast. This wasn’t the tiger that protected her from the building falling on top of you two, this was what you were afraid of, what Faulkner described in his diary, this was the lightning beast that was driven by instinct that couldn’t be reasoned with.

A/N: Well, one chapter to go people!

Reader: I can't shift! I'll hurt someone!

Reader (beast-form) with Wednesday:

Granted... Crackstone POV?

[yeszzs]

MiloxRyan AU: Stockholm Syndrome

"There was also another change that Ryan didn't expect, and that was Milo's behavior becoming that of a baby koala."

[6.9k characters and 1.2k words... Narration is Ryan-biased]

Milo's place was filled with the sour stench of dried blood mixed with a strong odor of insect repellent. The walls were covered in peeling yellow paint, and dust gathered in every corner. Spider webs hung on the ceiling, and Ryan suspected that ants were starting to infest the space beneath the wooden floorboards.

In short, Milo's place was shit.

But to be fair, Ryan wasn't entirely convinced that this ramshackle dump was the guy's real place or if it was some cheap temporary flat he rented for a couple of bills and weed. After all, you can't exactly get caught holding the son of some wealthy bastard hostage, right?

Ryan sighed heavily, his face pressed into the worn sofa cushions as he fought to keep the rising bile in his throat at bay. The rough, itchy sensation of the cuffs chafing against his legs was a constant pain but he was too exhausted to do anything about it. He lay there listlessly, feeling the weight of his anxiety grow heavier. Trapped in this dilapidated, poor excuse of a house for months, his hopes of escaping seemed to dwindle with each passing day. He had clung to the thought that Milo might eventually release him, but the asshole's recent behavior had grown increasingly erratic and unpredictable.

Ever since Eris dumped Milo (Ryan overheard Milo muttering to himself once), Milo had apparently kidnapped him as a way to prove his worth to the crazy fucker.

However, the whole kidnapping thing has been going on for too long and Ryan's pretty sure that Eris isn't coming back. Milo seems delusional though, and is only getting worse every time he comes to visit Ryan. In fact, Ryan has been seeing his face around more often than not and it's become incredibly off-putting.

At first, Milo was only around to either beat the crap out of him or to feed him the little food he had left to spare. But as time passed, his living conditions upgraded. Ryan went from living in the shitty basement to living in the equally shitty living room. The windows were boarded up so he couldn't see anything from the outside, and he couldn't even reach the main door if he tried because of the metal cuffs tugging his ankles back.

In short, Ryan still felt like shit.

And yet, he didn't complain. At the very least, he wasn't getting any limbs sawed off, and his testicles were still perfectly intact. It was a good thing that Milo didn't hate him so much as to castrate him but the lonely thought brought little comfort to Ryan's turbulent mind.

He mentally sighed.

There was also another change that Ryan didn't expect, and that was Milo's behavior becoming that of a baby koala.

Speaking of koalas, Ryan let out a grunt as Milo shifted behind him, maneuvering him onto his back and pressing his face against Ryan's collarbone. Milo's arms encircled Ryan’s torso tightly, creating an uncomfortable embrace that left Ryan with a sense of fear and tension.

The unexpected closeness made Ryan's blood run cold, as he couldn’t shake the feeling that Milo might try and do something to harm him. Milo’s hug felt like a deliberate move, done to lower Ryan's guard and exploit his vulnerability.

"Stop moving," Milo said firmly, his hand closing around one of Ryan's wrists and positioning it gently on top of his thick, black hair. Ryan instinctively froze and began petting Milo's head.

Ryan had absolutely no idea how this strange transgression even occurred. He really had no idea! He was ripping his hair out on the inside and dreaming of slamming his thin face into the piss-colored walls because;

What! The! Fuck! Is he doing with his kidnapper?! Is he playing some sick game of house with this little shit now?! Has he truly gone insane? He really had no clue how this happened in the first place and when Milo began acting like a newborn infant.

...

Well.

Actually... Ryan may have an inkling.

A month ago or so, Milo had forgotten to chain Ryan back up after letting him bathe in the tub and Ryan–seeing the opportunity–took it and ran. He had practically ripped the door off its hinges and bolted out the house. Milo quickly noticed Ryan's escape and hurriedly chased after the man. After realizing that Milo had begun hunting him down–evidenced by the chain of distant curses behind him–he started to pray to the gods above that the maniac would either trip over a stick or get run over by a car.

They both ran several yards, with Ryan shouting for help and Milo in close pursuit. Eventually, they reached a busy road with speeding cars. Ryan managed to make it to the other side, but Milo wasn't so fortunate; he was struck by a black Volvo and knocked unconscious, his rib crushed in the collision.

Ryan was relieved to finally have Milo off his ass but for some odd reason, he felt incredibly guilty leaving his kidnapper–who had beat him on multiple occasions–out on the road to get run over again. It was incredibly ridiculous but Ryan figured that he may as well just drag Milo over to the concrete sidewalk to protect him from the other cars. But after doing so, his guilt still hadn't been appeased so he decided that he'd at least patch the guy up and be back on his merry way. You know, since he's such a nice guy!

But it was still incredibly ridiculous.

Of course, Milo had woken up before Ryan was finished bandaging his wounds and was rewarded with a punch to the face. That's what you get for helping people, huh.

Looking back on it now, that's probably when Milo had began to visit this grimy home more often. Ryan really should have just gone home, seriously! He should've left Milo to die on that road. It's what he deserved anyway.

But...

Milo rubbed his face into Ryan's shirt, almost affectionately. He took a deep whiff of Ryan's scent and let a contented hum slip from his lips at the feeling of Ryan's fingers gently combing through his hair. Ryan grimaced, wrinkling his nose in mild discomfort but still continued stroking Milo's head, afraid of angering his hot-headed companion.

Nowadays, for some reason, Milo had become accustomed to entangling himself in Ryan's embrace much to the latter's dismay. Sniffing his hair, watching him from afar, finding minor excuses to touch him, all that weird stuff.

Ryan was distressed.

What is fucking happening.

Ryan gave Milo a gentle pat on the back, subtly nudging him to get off. Milo glanced up at him with a look of irritation, his brows knitted and eyes sharp. Ryan exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and resignation in his voice. "Calm down, will you? I'm starving and just want to make something to eat." He then placed his hand back on Milo's head.

Milo looked as if he was deep in thought before murmuring something into Ryan's neck and begrudgingly standing up, stomping into the kitchen.

Ryan watched Milo's retreating back leave the living room and slowly raised a hand to his warm neck. He felt that his face had grown a little flush and decidedly buried himself back into the sofa cushions.

Living in this dump was still shit, Ryan swore.

But maybe it wasn't so bad.

[hezzabeth]

Everyone who lived on Baker Street had come out from the fog to eat Nanni’s dinner. This made perfect sense; Nanni was one of the few people in the park who knew how to cook meals using ingredients and an oven.

When the park was still open, Revati's home was a coffee shop called the “Mad Hatter Teaparty.” The walls were painted in eye-watering clashing shades of neon pink and green. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were all giant velvet top hats. The booths were giant flower teacups with tiny chairs and tables inside.

"Was there some sort of drug in the pineapple?" Revati heard Brigadeiro ask. Revati just ignored him and instead walked past each of the booths, collecting tributes; nobody ate Nanni’s for free.

The Paprikas sat in the blue and gold teacup, their neon orange hair clashing with the paint. The Paprikas were two brothers and their sister who had found themselves trapped in the park as children. Their parents had been vaporized by a towel-warming rack. Now they were in their mid-twenties and worked for Revati as hired muscle for free dinners.

"Who's the new guy? He's actually clean and good-looking," the youngest brother Brie asked Revati. "His name is Brigadeiro Bun; he's an off-world tourist who stupidly went to the wasteland," Revati said. "I was trying to find crystal roses," Brigadeiro smiled helpfully.

"Bridgadeiro huh? So your parents were Goup worshippers then?" The sister, Juniper, asked curiously. Revati vaguely knew that Goupism was a popular religion on other colonies. Over a thousand years ago, there was once a woman who apparently traveled the earth gathering the best health practices needed to be “happy.” "A white woman, and she stole most of her ideas from our eastern religions," Amma, who was a staunch atheist, had snapped with annoyance when Revati asked her to explain the Paprika siblings' religion. Still, despite her thievery, at some point, she had become a god. They firmly believed in things such as “psychic vampires” and “color-balancing therapy.” They also all had peculiar food-related names, mainly because the goddess had named her daughter Apple.

"Yes, they were. They insisted on coming here for a Wellness Day holiday," the eldest brother, Croquette, growled. "I miss mama's Wellness Day Avocado and chocolate cookies," Juniper sighed sadly. "It's not the same, but here I have a couple of factory-made ones in my pocket," Brigadeiro said, crawling into the booth. The Paprika siblings gasped with astonishment as he pulled a packet of cookies wrapped in gold paper out of his jumpsuit's gigantic pocket. "They got a bit crushed when I was kidnapped, but they're still good," he said, opening the package and placing it on the table. The Paprika siblings stared at the cookies, their mouths slack with shock. Croquette slowly shook his head, completely snatched the package, and began to serve the crushed crumbs amongst his siblings. "You need to keep this one forever," Juniper said firmly, and Revati just shook her head, moving onto the next table.

The next table consisted of the elderly Gupta couple. "You adopted another kid? If you want more water for him, we want more dried apples," Mrs. Gupta said, a small scowl on her wizened face. It was Mr. Gupta who had figured out how to gather and purify water from the atmosphere. It was Mrs. Gupta who managed and recorded all the water they collected, rolling it out like a tyrannical dictator. "Fine, one extra package of dried apples per week," Revati said before swishing grandly onwards.

Amma was sitting in the pink cup, her new partner Dusk Brisbane. Dusk Brisbane was a teacher from Titan, who, along with their students on a field trip, found themselves stuck in the park. Like all people from Titan, Dusk had inherited the ability to rapidly change biological genders. Titan had also inherited a name that meant a time of day and a gender. Dusk’s remaining students were sitting with Dityaa on a large cat-shaped sofa. When the invasion began, there were twenty-three of them. Now there were only five nineteen-year-olds left. Dityaa was holding court over all of them, sitting on a couch shaped like a giant grinning beast. "Your sister said you had an interesting night," Amma remarked as Revati sat down next to her. Nanni had laid out a plate of aloo mushroom curry. Revati picked up a piece of hardtack and dipped it into the sauce, refusing to talk. "So you're not even going to bother telling your side of the story?" Amma asked as Revati swallowed. Nanni always moaned that her cooking was so much better before the war. Years ago, Nanni worked in the city as a professional meal prepper for wealthy families that wanted to eat real organic food.

Nanni was proud of her ability to create one hundred percent sand-free meals using the most exotic ingredients. Nanni would bemoan to everyone that her meals were now a mess, that her spices were too basic, and that she never had enough salt. Revati, however, who had never tried anything else, thought her food was delicious. "I'm hungry! Besides, what's the point in telling my side? I'm sure Dityaa's story was more enthralling," Revati replied. "Every story needs both sides and the truth," Dusk remarked. As they spoke, their features shifted from a feminine middle-aged woman's face to a man's face with a beard. "You're not my creative writing teacher, and you're not my parent," Revati pointed out.

Revati knew deep down she didn’t dislike Dusk; Dusk was a perfectly decent person. Not to mention Amma had been so lonely until Dusk offered to help her teach the feral children a year ago. Still, it was a lot to get used to.

“True, but your mother did ask you a question, and I think she deserves an answer," Dusk replied in that same mild diplomatic voice. Revati deliberately ate another mouthful of curry before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. "Dityaa got attacked by some lady at the ball; the chutiya had A.I. eye implants! They must have switched on somehow," Revati explained. "Mind your mouth, Revati! There will be no swearing at the dinner table," Amma scolded her. "Her implants switched on? That's so odd; one of my students had AI tastebuds, but they stopped working the second we walked into the park," Dusk remarked, their face shifting back into a woman's as they glanced at one of their students. The student in question, Basil Paris, was sitting next to Dityaa, licking their hand. Dusk was right; in order to create true "historical authenticity," the park was surrounded by massive mirrors. The volcanic Martian glass blocked the "AI" life stream. "And what did you do?" Amma asked in a quiet, nervous voice. "I threw a glass of vodka at her face, and her eyes fried up," Revati replied.

"Can you take the children's sign language lesson tomorrow morning? I need to check the mirrors around the walls," Amma said to Dusk.

"Of course," Dusk replied, and Revati rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to do anything, Amma! I'm the elected leader of Baker Street! This is my job," Revati said firmly.

"You're only seventeen!" Amma protested.

"Almost everyone voted for me! Well, apart from Mrs. Gupta, who voted for herself," Revati said, and mother sighed.

"Fine! But you're not going to leave well after the sun rises, and you're not taking Cora and Laila! You can take Vivienne and Jay Jr.," Mother replied firmly.

Nine minutes past midnight.

Revati's eyes snapped open in the blue-glowing darkness. Slowly, she sat up, taking in the familiar shapes of the kitchen's walk-in freezer. Dityaa was sleeping next to her on the souvenir pillows Amma had sewn together into a makeshift bed. In the corner, the feral children slept together in a nest made of old soft toys. Nanni was snoring on one of the plastic shelves that had long ago stored ice cream. Amma insisted on them all sleeping behind the massive metal doors. To anyone who lived near any other planet, it would have been freezing, but Martians had evolved to withstand the cold.

Revati stood up and glanced down at Dityaa. Dityaa had worn her new dress to bed, ignoring the stains. The blood on her dress looked shiny black, her face shadowy blue. She looked just like Princess Savitri in the family book of fairy tales. Revati, on the other hand, had changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a long-sleeved men's shirt three sizes too big. The red fabric hung to her knees, and the words "Olde Landon Halloweenfest 3544" had been printed across the front. Revati picked up her blanket, draping it around her shoulders. Sleep wasn't going to return any time soon. Revati reached underneath her part of the mattress until she found the stories.

Outside the metal doors, Revati could hear distant voices, and carefully she slid the door open. Amma and Dusk were sitting together on the cat-shaped couch, murmuring to each other over tea.

"I don't see how they could know..." Amma began, and then she trailed off, spotting Revati.

"Insomnia again?" She asked gently, and Revati nodded, walking past the two of them.

"If you're going up to the greenhouse, be quiet; I made a bed for the boy up there," Mother replied.

"Really, Amma? You couldn't give him a bed?" Revati asked, opening the front door.

"He would freeze in the fridge, and he said he liked plants," Mother replied.

Outside, the fog was still shifting, and Revati moved ten spaces to the right.

"Evening, boss," Juniper's voice called, and she suddenly appeared holding a jar filled with glowing mushrooms.

"Any problems?" Revati asked.

"Nope, it's been a pretty quiet night!" Juniper said.

"Good, make sure your brother takes over your shift! We don't want you fainting from sleep deprivation again," Revati replied.

[iboatedhere]

I saw the word "farmhouse" in the Henry POV chapter and promptly lost it. Thanks @rmd-writes @pragmatic-optimist and @welcometololaland for all the hand-holding you've done and will continue to do.

Tagging @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @lemonlyman-dotcom @beautifulhigh @basilsunrise @ramblingdisaster73

--

It takes two trips to unload everything he bought. The stairs are one challenge and David is another, twirling around his feet, happy to see him even though he was only gone for a short time. 

He changes into his designated work jeans, already  broken in and comfortable with a tear at the left knee and a stubborn leather polish stain on the thigh, and one of Alex’s old t-shirts, so old and threadbare he’s surprised it surprised the journey from Brooklyn. 

He takes off his wedding ring and leaves it in the gold keepsakes box on the top of their dresser, not willing to take any chances after losing it in the barn. They had found both their rings almost side by side the morning after with the metal detector. Alex had started waxing lyrical about how it must have been fate and Henry, who was so thankful to have the ring back tucked both rings safely into the front pocket of his shirt then hauled Alex into the tack room then dropped to his knees to thank him. 

In his office he pushes all the boxes out of the way then lays the drop cloths over everything. He tapes off the baseboard and around the ceiling and all the electrical outlets and switches. 

He sits back on the floor and surveys the work he’s already done, knowing he hasn’t even done the hard part yet. 

Primer, Matt had said, was an important first step. 

Henry puts the first coat on too thick and it drips off the roller onto the cloth, immediately proving their worth. 

He learns from his mistakes and gets the proper coating of primer on the wall, stopping halfway to throw the windows open and fetch a fan from downstairs to cut down on drying time and help ventilate the fumes. 

He’d never hear the end of it from Alex if he’s almost passed out again. 

While the primer dries he takes a break for lunch and takes David on a walk. Back upstairs he cracks open the bucket of Oak Grove, a moss green that reminds him of early spring at Balmoral. 

He’s halfway through the second coat when Alex arrives, stepping through the front door with a loud “honey, I’m home,” greeting. 

“Upstairs,” Henry calls. 

“Still?” Alex hollers, followed by the sound of him climbing the stairs taking them two at a time. “Did you pass out from the fumes?”

“Not once,” Henry promises as Alex slides into the doorway and huffs. 

“Holy fuck.”

“Do you like it?” Henry asks, stepping back and admiring his work. “I can’t believe how many colors there are to choose from. Do you know that there are one hundred seventy seven different shades of white?”

“Does it remind you of looking at your family tree?”

“Need I remind you you’re now a part of that tree? A little dash connects me to you forever.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that everyone else is beige to extra beige and that’s not what I was talking about.”

“But do you like the color? I thought maybe it was too dark but there’s plenty of light from the windows—.”

“I wasn’t talking about the color I was talking about you. Jesus tits, look at you.”

Henry looks down at his paint splattered outfit. “What about it?”

“What about—what about it? It’s everything. It’s unlocking a very specific fantasy that I never knew I needed. It’s like you’re the hot handyman and I’m the overworked, under-sexed—.”

“You have never once been under-sexed your entire adult life.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Handyman Henry, or I'll...dock your pay? No, that’s a douchebag move, I would never do that and depending on the contract you signed–illegal. Are you in a union? What am I talking about, this is my sexual fantasy, of course you’re in a union.”

“My god. You’re worried about my contract but not the legality of propositioning your employee? 

“Who said I was going to be the one propositioning you? Nah, you’re gonna come onto me.”��

“Am I now?” 

Alex hums and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m gonna be in the kitchen making my dinner for one and you’re gonna come downstairs with a wound that needs to be tended to.”

“How do I wound myself?”

“I don’t know…opening a paint can? Don’t you have to shove a little thing under the rim and pop it out?”

“These cans actually have a very convenient pour spout. Matt, the clerk at the hardware store said it was a new feature. He's a nice kid. I thought he had a bit of a crush on me.”

“Of course he did, look at you.”

“Turns out he’s a fan of both of us.”

“Of course he is, look at me.”

“I am looking at you. I’m looking at you leaning against wet paint.”

“Oh shit,” Alex says as he pulls himself away from the wall.

[melpomenelamusa]

I'm here to take care of you - Caretaking

~Original story~

Hurtcember DAY 11: Caretaking

CW: Cautivery, implied abuse.

"Hey, Moi, do you want to go to Don Ruiz's store after work? They say he sells some delicious sandwiches."

The young man was slow to look up from the cash register and glare at his coworker.

"Oh, eh, sorry. It's Friday, I have to go home early."

Moi left to serve a customer on the other side of the pharmacy. Nina let out a frustrated sigh.

"Does he dislike me so much that he doesn't have the decency to tell me that he doesn't like me to my face?" she lamented.

"Don't take it personally," Gus told her, leaning on the counter. "I'll tell you a secret, just because you are the new one and you've only been working for a few weeks: Moi leaves early every Friday. I heard that his mother is very sick at home, Alzheimer's or something, and he has to take care of her. His father doesn't have a job and Moi is the only breadwinner in the house.”

Nina's face changed from an expression of indignation to one of guilt. She looked back at the dark-haired young man who was currently explaining some contraindications to an old woman, and suddenly felt a deep sadness, but also one more reason why the shy and withdrawn Moi attracted her even more.

The shift ended. Moi gathered his things, changed his shirt, didn't say goodbye to anyone, and headed to the bus stop. It was 6:05. During the ride, he couldn't stop thinking about the need to get home as soon as possible. His heart felt like a time bomb. He walked down the sidewalk as if the devil himself was chasing him until he reached his neighborhood, lonely and empty. He arrived in front of the door of his house and felt like he was one step away from entering hell.

"Isn't that right?" he thought. He turned the key in the doorknob and walked forward.

The light in the living room was off, but the television on illuminated with a blue glow the figure of his father in the armchair, with a remote control in one hand and an open can of beer in the other. Moi walked on tiptoe, but felt a chill when a voice spoke behind him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Moi stopped and turned to look at his father's irritated eyes.

"Today is Friday." 

The man looked at him with some disgust, before nodding at a key resting on the corner, taking a swig of his beer and returning his attention to the television. Moi did his best not to let out a sigh. He didn't want his nervousness to be so obvious. He took the key and walked to the basement door. The darkness that sank with the stairs threatened to swallow him. He pressed the switch and a single yellowish light bulb lit up, hanging from the ceiling. He went down. 

In the middle of the basement was a chair. And in the chair was a man.

His white skin was even paler than would be considered healthy. He was naked except for a pair of black boxers. His wrists were tied behind the back of the chair, and his ankles were attached to the legs of the chair. More rope encircled his torso, colored in bruises of various colors and ages, and even a bit of dried blood. His drooping head and long, dirty white hair hid his face.

Moi felt his chest tighten.

"Liam?" he asked, coming closer. He had no answer.

He approached the bound man and, placing both hands on the sides of his face, lifted his head.

"Liam," Moi called.

Liam opened two blue, tired eyes. There was a cut on his forehead and a trail of dried blood painted on his temple. A thick piece of tape hid his lips. Moi peeled it off as carefully as possible. Liam spat out a wad of cloth and took a deep breath through his mouth.

"M... Moi... ses…”

Hearing his name in a weak, raspy voice, nothing more than a whisper, Moi couldn't help but hug the other young man. Watching him breathe and talk for another week... It was all he could ask for.

"I-I'm going to untie you now, you… keep cool."

Moi ​​got rid of the ropes as quickly as he could and then helped Liam up. The other was so weak that he could barely stand on his two legs, leaning almost all his weight on Moi. Moi put an arm around his waist to help him stand. He could perfectly feel the ribs that poked out sharply from the sides of his friend's bare chest.

They began to slowly climb the stairs until they reached the first floor. They shuffled down the hallway, completely ignoring the man sitting on the living room armchair watching television, and entered Moi's room. Once the door closed behind them, they both felt as if they could breathe freely again.

"Get some rest here," Moi said, helping Liam sit on the mattress of the only bed in the room and offering him some water from a bottle. "Drink some, slowly. I'll get things ready for the bath."

Like every Friday, Moi entered the small bathroom on the side of his room and left the bottle of shampoo, the antiseptic soap, the sponges and the first aid kit at hand. He filled the tub with warm water and then returned to his friend, who had remained still at the edge of the mattress, just hugging himself.

"The bath is ready," Moi announced. "Do you need... help?"

Liam stood up and began to limp over to the tub.

"I'm fine," he croaked, trying to draw a smile. "This week wasn't so bad..."

"Okay," Moi replied, still a little unsure. "I left your change of clothes on the toilet. I'll be right here, call me if you need anything."

Liam gave him one last look and smile and Moi felt his heart beat faster.

“Thank you.”

After about thirty minutes, Liam emerged from the bathroom wearing a loose t-shirt and soft sweatpants. His long, straight hair fell damply over his shoulders.

“Dry your hair with this,” Moi said, handing him the hairdryer. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

Moi left the room and closed the door before heading to the kitchen. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and Liam must have been famished after a week without eating, so he quickly grabbed the fat-free blended bone and vegetable broth he’d made the night before and a bottle of electrolyte drink he’d brought from the pharmacy out of the refrigerator. He put the broth in the microwave, making sure it didn’t get too hot.

As he walked back down the hall to his room, he saw that his father was still in front of the TV, motionless. Even without saying anything, his presence was terrifying.

“I brought dinner,” Moi announced, helping Liam to take soft sips of the broth. Moi, for his part, had made himself a couple of egg sandwiches. Both young men ate in silence, sitting on the floor.

“Let me see that,” Moi said, brushing a few white strands from Liam's face to check the wound on his forehead. It didn't look too big, which was a relief because it meant he wouldn't need stitches.

“I'm fine,” Liam replied, calmly pushing Moi's hand away. “I told you, this week wasn't so bad…”

The other man couldn't help but feel anxious. He held Liam's hand, looking at the red marks around his wrists.

“At least let me put something on your rope burns.” 

Liam smiled again (Moi didn't understand how he could still smile so beautifully) and nodded.

After covering the wounds with ointment and bandages, they both lay down on the bed and watched videos on Moi's phone. The first time Liam asked him, Moi was hesitant; but after a while it became a kind of little ritual. To distract their minds, he said.

"Maybe this way I can see that the world out there is still the same, or how much it has changed," Liam had explained.

After that, Moi didn't have the heart to refuse. They watched short videos until 10pm came around. They brushed their teeth and settled in between the sheets, getting ready to sleep. Liam was the first to fall asleep, and of course, he must have been exhausted.

Moi hugged his friend's body, pressing him against his own and making sure not to hurt him. Liam was so thin... the good thing was that tomorrow after breakfast he could take vitamins and painkillers again. At least until Moi's father took him away again.

The young man suddenly felt tears wanting to well up in the corners of his eyes. He pulled Liam, who was snoring softly, against his chest and kissed his head, momentarily catching a whiff of the fruity scent of shampoo instead of the stench of sweat and blood.

The time they spent together was so short... But it was worth it, worth every second. Moi would make sure Liam was happy and safe for at least as long as they were together. Because on Sunday night, Moi would lose Liam again and the cycle of hell would repeat itself until next Friday.

That was his punishment; but for now, he would take care of Liam. He would take care of Liam like Liam always took care of him.

Next

A new story??? Yes!!! I've had this idea for a while now and this was the perfect opportunity to tell it. I plan for it to be a short series, without formal publishing times, because although I have a general plot line, it's not strictly planned, unlike Chimeras, so if one day you have any ideas for situations with my characters, I accept suggestions! Stay tuned for the other days of Hurtcember and you might discover a little more about Moi and Liam ;) Thank you very much for reading! ☀️

[softone-ao3]

Chapter 2: Where We Lie

Hermione sank into the armchair by Luna’s small, cluttered hearth, cradling the steaming teacup in her hands. The warmth seeped into her fingers, grounding her as she tried to organize her thoughts. Around them, the room was alive with Luna’s eccentric touches—strings of dried flowers hanging from the ceiling, a crystal mobile catching the afternoon sunlight, and a small, crooked painting of a crumple-horned snorkack peeking out from behind a stack of books. Hermione only knew what those were supposed to look like because Luna had made her study her drawings of them over dinner several years ago, even going so far as explaining the details of their subtle changings of color during mating-season. She almost chuckled at the memory.

Luna perched on the floor across from her, cross-legged, with her own cup of tea balanced precariously on her knee. She was absentmindedly tracing patterns in the rug with a quill that seemed to have sprouted tiny feathers of its own.

“I imagine it was a bit of a shock,” Luna said gently, breaking the silence.

Hermione blinked, startled. “What was?”

“Seeing him again.”

The words hung in the air, light yet inescapable. Hermione’s fingers tightened on the cup as she looked down into the swirling liquid. She hadn’t said a word about the meeting—not yet—but Luna had always been unnervingly perceptive.

“It’s…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s not just him. It’s everything. The mission. The stakes. The fact that Harry thinks this is a good idea.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And now I have to trust Malfoy of all people to make it work.”

Luna tilted her head, her quill stilling as she considered this. “Trust might not be the right word, though, right? You don’t have to trust him to believe he has his own reasons for wanting this to succeed.”

Hermione frowned. “That’s… surprisingly logical.”

Luna beamed. “Oh, I’ve been practicing! But I also think he might be a nargle-magnet. They do tend to attach themselves to people with unresolved guilt.”

Hermione blinked. “A… nargle-magnet.”

“Yes,” Luna said serenely. “You’ll want to keep an eye on that. They can be quite distracting in delicate situations.”

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure whether to laugh or argue. She decided to do neither.

“It might help to think of it like an experiment,” Luna went on, as if she hadn’t just veered into the absurd again. “You don’t trust a cauldron to boil perfectly the first time, do you? You watch it. Adjust as needed. And sometimes you have to throw the whole thing out and start over.”

Hermione let out a genuine laugh, soft but real. “That’s one way to put it.”

But her smile faded quickly. She set her teacup on the side table and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “It’s just… being near him. It brings things up, you know? Things I’d rather not think about.”

Luna nodded, her gaze drifting to the ceiling, where a small charm in the shape of a dandelion puff was spinning lazily in an invisible breeze. “The Manor?”

Hermione’s breath caught. She hadn’t spoken about that night in years. Not to Harry, not to Ginny—not even to Ron when they were still together. But Luna said it so gently, without judgment or pity, as if she were naming a particularly stubborn constellation.

“Maybe,” Hermione admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just the Manor. It’s… everything. The war. The things we had to do. The things we didn’t do.”

Luna reached out, placing a hand over Hermione’s. “It’s okay not to have the words for it yet,” she said softly. “Sometimes, they come when they’re ready. And until then, it’s okay to just feel.”

Hermione’s throat tightened, and she looked away, blinking back the sting of tears. “Thank you, Luna,” she murmured.

“Always,” Luna said, her voice full of quiet conviction. She paused, tilting her head again. “Though you might want to watch your tea. The gillyroot in it tends to make one’s thoughts louder. Useful, but not ideal for secrets.”

*****

After tea with Luna, Hermione felt a little lighter. She could recognize that sharing her feelings with others was definitely not one of her strengths, and she was working on it, but that was part of why she loved Luna so much. The witch was perceptive and intuitive in a way that allowed Hermione to share without, well, sharing. Or at least having to deal with the discomfort of talking about emotions.

She had kept dinner light to keep her mind sharp, wanting to head back to the solitude of her office at the Ministry. She had to read through the information that had been given to her, had to be prepared. Eliminating any and all mistakes that could possibly be made. If she knew the rules of the game, she could control the board.

The steady hum of the Ministry outside her door was muffled in the late hour, and the only light in the room came from the flickering of her desk lamp. She reached for the folder Harry had handed her earlier, its contents now weighing heavily on her desk. The mission—dangerous, delicate, and complicated—was more than just another assignment. It felt personal, especially now that Draco Malfoy was involved.

"Focus," she muttered under her breath as she opened the folder and spread the papers across her desk. The map she had glanced at earlier was still there, marked with locations, some familiar, some entirely new. She knew that map inside and out, and still, something about it gnawed at her. There were gaps in the intel, shadows she couldn’t quite place.

As her eyes flickered over the details, her thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation with Luna. She’d barely acknowledged her own emotions about working with Draco; she hadn’t needed to. But now, alone, she allowed herself to admit that the thought of being forced into close proximity with him again unsettled her more than she was willing to let on.

She wasn’t naïve; she knew that Draco had changed. He had to have, right? The war had scarred them all, but Draco had made his choices then. The very idea of trusting him felt impossible. Hermione hadn’t even been aware that the Ministry had employed Malfoy at all. What kind of in did he have with them? What were his goals?

Sighing, the witch rubbed her temples. She couldn’t afford to be caught off guard. She had to be prepared for anything.

Hours passed as Hermione pored over the reports. She read each file carefully, scrutinizing the lists of contacts, the safehouses, and the potential threats. Every detail was critical, every misstep could mean disaster. Her sharp mind caught inconsistencies in the information. A safehouse near Diagon Alley had been compromised a few days ago, but the report didn’t mention why. There were vague references to sightings of suspicious figures in muggle areas, but no clear leads. The trail felt cold, but it was all they had to go on.

As she sat back in her chair, eyes bleary but her mind still sharp, she allowed herself a brief sigh. She was as ready as she could be—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, something important she hadn’t yet uncovered.

The knock on the door was sharp, unsettling, and completely unexpected. Hermione’s hand instinctively shot to where she had holstered her wand as she glanced toward the door, her nerves taut. She didn’t expect visitors at this hour.

She certainly didn't expect his head to peek through the now halfway-opened door.

"Granger," Draco Malfoy’s voice sliced through the stillness, cold and clipped. "We need to talk."

She hesitated. Of all the people to show up uninvited, Draco was perhaps the least welcome. She decided not to bother with pleasantries. "I’m busy."

"I can see that," he replied, pushing the door open fully now, with a casualness that made her blood simmer. "You don’t mind if I come in, do you?" His tone betrayed how much he was enjoying this, like he wasn't bothering with being pleasant, either.

"Actually, I do," Hermione said, not bothering to look up from the files scattered in front of her. Her voice was steady but sharp, masking the tension coiling in her gut. She couldn’t help it—every inch of her wanted to throw him out. Or hex him back to where he came from. But she needed to be professional. She could manage a few more minutes of his presence, no matter how much it irked her, if only to hear him out about about whatever information he was about to give her.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching her with that infuriatingly smug expression. "Uptight as ever, Granger. It’s just a conversation."

"And I’m not in the mood to have one with you," Hermione snapped, her fingers tightening around the edge of the file. She could feel her pulse rising as he refused to leave.

"It’s about the mission," Draco continued, ignoring her thinly veiled hostility. "If you could get the stick out of your arse for five minutes, I'd highly appreciate it. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not get killed on this mission because the ministry decided to have us work together."

Hermione’s eyes shot up to meet Draco’s, sharp and challenging. "You think I’m the one with the problem?" Her voice was ice, her jaw clenched tight. "You waltz in here, without an ounce of tact, and now you want to lecture me about how we’re going to handle a mission that you’re barely qualified for?"

Draco’s smirk deepened, and he pushed himself off the doorframe with a fluid motion, stepping further into the room. "I’m qualified enough. I’m here, aren’t I? Which, by the way, you should be thanking me for." He circled her desk, looking down at the map she had been poring over earlier, as if he owned the room. "But, if it makes you feel better to pretend otherwise, by all means, go ahead and keep believing that your obsessive little plans are all that’s going to get us through."

Hermione stood up abruptly, sending the chair skidding back with a loud scrape. "I don’t need you, Malfoy," she bit out, stepping closer to him. "I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. If anything, you’re a liability—someone the Ministry should have kept at arm’s length, not thrown into the fire with me."

Draco didn’t flinch, but his eyes narrowed. "I don’t need your approval, Granger," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "But the fact remains that this mission is bigger than your petty grudges. And if you want to live through it, you’d better start thinking outside your little box. I'm already the man on the inside, I'm the one whose reputation precedes him by so much, doors to dark wizard organisations aren't just opened for me, they practically roll out the red fucking carpet once they hear the name 'Malfoy'." He took a sharp breath, as if to calm himself, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Hermione held hers in turn until he breathed out again.

They stood there for a moment, the tension so thick it felt suffocating. Hermione’s fingers twitched toward her wand, though she knew she wouldn’t act on it—not yet. But damn it, the way he was looking at her, like he was daring her to do something, was driving her mad.

"Why do you even care? You're already on the inside, and what-you want to work with me?" she asked, her voice trembling only slightly from the pressure building in her chest. "What exactly are you proposing? That I drop everything and listen to your grand plan? You said it yourself, Malfoy. Your reputation precedes you. You think I’m going to trust you just like that?"

His expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that might have been regret, or maybe guilt. "I didn’t ask for your trust," he said quietly. "But you will need me. Whether you like it or not."

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, and for a split second, she faltered. He was right. Despite everything, despite how she hated to admit it, she knew this mission was beyond her alone. She didn't miss how he avoided the question why he would want to work with her on this, though. And working with him, especially after everything that had happened during the war? The thought made her stomach twist.

"I don’t need your help," she said firmly, taking a step back, forcing herself to regain control. "If the Ministry thinks you’re the best they can send, they’ve clearly lost their minds."

Draco’s lips parted, as if he was about to snap back, but then he seemed to reconsider. His gaze was hard, but his tone was calm. "Maybe they have. Or maybe you’re just too damn proud to admit that you can’t do this without me."

Hermione’s fists clenched, and her eyes narrowed again. "You don’t get to come in here, stand there like you own the place, and try to manipulate me into thinking I need you," she spat, her voice fierce. "I’ve worked with dangerous people before. I can do this on my own."

Draco’s eyes flashed, his patience fraying. "You’re not doing this on your own, Granger. And if you think for one second you can make it out of this unscathed, you’re as delusional as you’ve always been."

For a long moment, they stood facing each other, the air crackling with unspoken words and unshed anger. Hermione’s breath was coming fast, but she held her ground.

Finally, Draco let out a breath, his expression shifting, and for a fleeting moment, there was something almost... resigned in his gaze. "Look," he said, more evenly now, "I get it. I’m not here to be your bloody friend. But you need me on this mission. And whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere."

Hermione stared at him for a long beat, her mind racing with a thousand conflicting thoughts. Could she really afford to push him away? Could she trust him enough to work together, just for this mission? She didn’t know. But she had no other choice, really. It would be foolish not to at least utilize the intel he could bring.

With a sharp exhale, she finally spoke, the words leaving her mouth reluctantly. "Fine. We’ll work together. But this doesn’t mean I trust you."

Draco gave a slight nod, his lips twitching with something that might have been approval—or amusement. "It’s a start."

Hermione couldn’t suppress a bitter laugh. "A start?" she repeated, her voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "It's as far as this is going to go."

Draco’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something behind his cold eyes—was it exhaustion? Or maybe something like resignation? She wasn’t sure, but it irritated her to no end.

"Your ability to capture the obvious is as refined as ever, Granger. Just follow my lead when the time comes," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but she caught the faintest edge in it, as if he was trying not to show how much this whole arrangement grated on him too. "That's all I wanted to work out with you when I came here."

The tension between them was thick as ever, but there was a strange understanding lingering beneath it. It wasn’t peace. It wasn’t even close. But it was something that made the air feel a little less suffocating.

Hermione folded her arms, her posture defensive, though she could no longer deny the frustration she felt at being backed into a corner. “Fine. We’ll follow your lead... for now. But don’t get too comfortable.”

Draco nodded, his lips curling into a half-smile that made her stomach twist. "Don’t worry, Granger. I never do."

He turned to leave, but as his hand hovered over the doorframe, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and Granger? You might want to prepare yourself. It’s not going to be pretty.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve faced worse than you, Malfoy,” she shot back. If this was going to work, if they were going to survive the mission, she couldn’t afford to show any doubt.

Draco gave a sharp, humorless chuckle before disappearing through the door, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirl of unease and lingering tension.

As the door clicked shut behind Draco, Hermione’s thoughts hung heavy in the silence. His presence, his words, his smug expression—all of it lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. She stood there for a long moment, her body frozen, trying to piece together the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred up.

Trust. That single word echoed in her mind. Draco’s quiet admission that he didn’t expect it. That they both needed each other for the mission, though he hadn't disclosed what his motivations for wanting to make this work were. But more than that, it stirred something deeper inside her—something she’d spent years burying.

Hermione’s hand clenched at her side, her nails digging into her palm as her gaze moved toward the small pile of papers and files scattered across her desk. This mission wasn't good for her, and she knew it. It had brought Draco Malfoy back into her life, it was filling her with unease. She didn’t trust him. Not now, not after everything that had happened. And yet...

What choice did she have?

Her fingers trembled, but she shoved the thought aside, grabbing the nearest file and forcing herself to focus. There were plans to be made, questions to be asked, but her mind was no longer fully on the work. She had already seen Draco leave, the door snapping shut behind him. It was the way he had looked at her—like he’d seen right through the walls she’d so carefully built around herself. It was that flicker of something, something she couldn’t quite name that unsettled her the most.

A sigh left her lips, shaky and unwilling, as she turned away from the desk. She couldn’t think anymore, not tonight. The whole day had been one long series of confrontations. First with Luna, then with Draco. The mission, the stakes, the risk... all of it felt like too much. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

*****

The faint light of early morning stretched across the room when Hermione finally crawled out of bed, the exhaustion from barely sleeping weighing down on her. Her cottage was still, almost too still, the quiet stretching over her like a blanket. The soft tick-tick-tick of the clock on the mantle was the only sound, the steady beat of time that moved forward whether she was ready for it or not.

She had barely slept, the gnawing unease of the night replaying over and over in her head. Memories of war, of fear, of Malfoy's cold words all mixed together in a storm she couldn’t silence. And now, with the first light of dawn creeping through the curtains, she was forced to face it. To face the fact that no matter how much she tried to distance herself from him, he was back in her life, tangled up in this mess.

She moved to the small kitchen, her movements automatic as she set about making coffee. Her hands shook slightly as she measured the grounds, the familiar routine of making the drink a small comfort in the face of everything else. The silence was a balm, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the war raging inside her.

Was it even possible to work with him? The question clawed at her.

She leaned against the counter, coffee mug cradled in her hands, staring out the window at the overgrown garden outside. The sun had barely risen, but the world outside already felt as if it was moving on without her. There was no escaping it. The mission. Malfoy. The past.

The old wounds from the war weren’t as easy to ignore as she liked to think. She had spent years pushing the pain away, burying it under layers of work and books and friendship. But here, in this moment, in the quiet of her cottage, they crept back in.

In the first years after the war had ended, she had tried to drown her trauma with any and all ways that she could think of. She'd picked up her studies, finished her last year at Hogwarts. She had spent most of her free time with Ron, with the Weasleys. Back then, she had thought if she just tried hard enough to feel normal, she would be back to normal eventually. Being with Ronald had been the 'normal', logical choice, seeing how the relationship had been building for years. The years-long crush she'd had on him. Everyone kept telling her how right they were together, and who was she to doubt her loved ones in this?

How wrong she had been. She sighed and tried to brush away the memories of last night.

Draco Malfoy—standing in her office, telling her she needed him. The audacity, the nerve. She felt like a fool, but she also felt... something else. He had been so calm, so sure of himself. And she had snapped back at him.

That was a small reprieve of the stress, at least. 

Her fingers tightened around the mug as she tried to ignore the way her chest tightened with the weight of everything she was holding in. The war had left its marks on her, just as it surely had on him. Maybe they really could find a way to work together, severe lack of trust aside.

As the steam from the coffee swirled upward, Hermione closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the cup seep into her cold fingers. The sun began to rise fully, casting soft light over the room, but it felt like she was the only one still trapped in the shadows.

*****

Luna’s quiet humming filled the room as she took another bite of her toast, her thoughts clearly somewhere else, as usual. Hermione smiled a little, appreciating the calm presence of her friend. It was nice to have a moment of peace, a break from everything else pressing in on her.

Ginny, on the other hand, was quieter than usual, twirling her fork absently through her eggs. Hermione couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about her seemed off. She glanced up at her, but Ginny’s gaze shifted quickly to Luna, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.

"So," Hermione began, trying to keep the conversation light, "How’s the Quidditch team shaping up? Any new recruits for the Harpies?"

Ginny’s lips quirked up, her mood lightening a little. "Oh, you know. A few hopefuls. But no one with the same fire as Harry, of course." Her tone was teasing, but there was a certain sadness lurking behind the words. It wasn’t unusual, but it made Hermione pause, as though Ginny were struggling to keep up the facade of normalcy.

Luna, who had been nodding along, turned to Hermione with an excited gleam in her eye. "I do think the Harpies need a good Seeker, though. Have you seen that young one, Theodore Pym? He’s quite quick."

Hermione chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "I haven’t, but I’ll keep an eye out for him. How's married life as a Potter treating you?" she asked, hoping to keep things from veering into uncomfortable territory, given Ginny's odd mood. Her recent wedding to Harry seemed like a safe enough option.

"It's been good." Ginny replied, setting down her fork and wiping her mouth with a napkin. She hesitated before continuing, as if weighing her words carefully. "He’s busy with his team, mostly. He’s been meeting with a few people over at the Ministry, as you probably know. Nothing too exciting, I don't see him as much as I would like." She gave a small shrug, as if to say it wasn’t worth discussing.

Luna, ever the oddball, took another sip of tea before speaking up, her voice whimsical. "Well, perhaps all the excitement can be siphoned into the moonflowers. You see, they bloom in synchronicity with the planets, but they only open fully under the light of a full moon. Using them to clear your head can be very helpful. Very fascinating, don't you think?"

Hermione nodded, playing along. "Sounds magical. I think I’ll have to take a trip out to the Greenhouse soon to see them for myself."

Ginny didn’t reply, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air. It was subtle at first, just a slight change in how Ginny held herself, but it was enough for Hermione to notice. She knew Ginny well enough to sense when something was brewing underneath the surface, something that needed to be said and was about to come out.

After a few moments of silence, Ginny set down her cup a little more forcefully than usual, her eyes flicking to Hermione, then to Luna, and back to Hermione again.

"Must be strange," Ginny said, her voice casual but with a tightness Hermione couldn’t ignore. "You and Harry are the only ones left of the trio still working on saving the world, huh?"

Hermione froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. She hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, especially not so abruptly. The tension that Ginny was carefully holding in place threatened to spill over, and Hermione could feel her heart rate picking up.

Luna, sensing the change in mood, quietly took a sip of her tea, watching the exchange with quiet interest, as though she knew the storm was coming but didn’t dare interrupt it.

Hermione set her fork down without taking that bite, her stomach twisting. She didn’t want to address it, didn’t want to drag everything into the open. But she couldn’t avoid it forever. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Ginny leaned back in her chair, her arms folding across her chest as she glanced out the window, the early light of the morning casting a soft glow on her features. "I just think it’s funny how things have turned out," she said, her words slow and deliberate. "I mean, Ron and I—" She stopped herself, but the words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning.

Hermione felt a lump form in her throat. She had known this moment would come, but that didn’t make it any easier. "Ginny," she said quietly, her voice tinged with frustration, "this isn’t the time to—"

"Isn’t it?" Ginny cut in, her voice sharper now. "You ended things with Ron without so much as a word, Hermione. You broke his heart. And now... now you’re working with Malfoy." She paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "You expect me to just... accept that?"

Hermione felt a rush of heat to her face. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out at first. She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure she even had a defense for what Ginny was implying. That old, wretched argument about Malfoy replaying in the back of her mind made her feel an equally as old frustration. The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke. "Ginny," she said, making an effort to keep her tone calm. "You know it was just a stupid game of 'Fuck, Marry, Kill'."

Her friend crossed her arms. "Yeah, doesn't change the fact that Malfoy is going to basically replace Ron's place in the group now. It feels wrong, considering."

Hermione bristled at that. "Malfoy isn't replacing anyone. It isn't as though any of us chose this."

"You chose to end things with Ron, which led to the split of your famous group." 

After a moment of uncomfortable silence of Hermione trying to ward off the shock at what her friend had just said, Ginny sighed. "I’m not saying you were wrong to end it with Ron," Ginny conceded, her tone softening just a little, though there was still a bite to it. "But you have to understand, we’re all still dealing with the aftermath. You weren’t the only one who was hurt, you know."

Hermione's heart picked up speed, and she pushed herself upright, her palms pressing against the table as she stared at Ginny, trying to find the right words. "I never wanted to hurt anyone," she said, her voice shaky. "But I couldn’t stay. Not when he became someone I didn’t recognize. I—I couldn’t keep pretending. You know that, Ginny. I thought you of all people would understand."

Ginny’s expression shifted again, softening just a fraction. "I do understand," she said, her voice quieter now, though there was a sadness to it. "But it’s just... hard. Ron loved you, Hermione. We all did. And when you walked away, it wasn’t just him you left behind."

The weight of her words hit Hermione like a physical blow, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself. It felt like everything—everything she had tried to bury, to move past—was coming back at her in full force.

"I didn’t want to be with him anymore," Hermione said, the words almost a whisper, her voice thick with emotion. "I couldn’t keep pretending."

"I know," Ginny said softly, though there was an edge to her voice that suggested she wasn’t fully done with this conversation. "But you didn’t have to leave us all behind."

The words lingered between them, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Hermione didn’t know how to respond, how to fix the fragile thread of understanding between them. She hadn’t meant to push everyone away. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. But it had.

Finally, Luna broke the silence, her soft voice a balm amidst the stillness. "Well, this is quite a lot of heavy talk for breakfast, isn’t it? Perhaps we should switch topics before we all start feeling too blue?"

But even as she said it, Hermione knew it wasn’t over. And a quick glance at Ginny confirmed that she was thinking the same thing. It couldn’t be. Not yet.

Though they were capable of having breakfast together without talking about it. For now.

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Temptation|Taehyun AU| (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

"It looks bad," I said to myself seeing the grey clouds cast above me as I grabbed a few things outside. "I hope it doesn't rain too much"

"It could cause another problem," My mom said as we walked back inside.

"What do you mean?"

"Not a problem more of an annoyance," she said as we placed the baskets on the table.

"That's for sure" I sighed knowing I wouldn't be going to see Taehyun. "And there it goes," I said as it started to rain.

There wasn't any point in keeping the shop open since no one would leave their house unless they wished to get a cold. The heavy downpour was met with lightning and thunder. Usually, I wouldn't mind soft thunder but this time it sounded like bombs exploding in the sky. I was a distracted mess all day. The rain not letting up and looked like it wouldn't stop anytime soon. After a while, I got bored of sitting around and went to my room. I sat at my desk and pulled out my sketchbook.

"What should I draw" I mumbled.

I let my hand take control focusing on whatever drawing my mind was making. The sound of thunder went unnoticed being too focused on what I was doing. Once I finished I looked at what I subconsciously drew. The outline of a butterfly with in-depth details making it look too real.

"I might as well add color," I said looking outside seeing the rain and back to my desk. I opened my drawer and grabbed some blue, yellow, and black paint.

I carefully painted the picture as I added the colors. The blue was used as the butterfly in general but I made some places a little darker. I painted the antennas with black paint along with the outline of the drawing. I let it dry waiting to paint the yellow on. Once it dried I made the yellow look like a glowing effect reminding me about what happened the other day. I smiled at my work of art before standing up to clean up my desk. I grabbed my paintbrushes and brought them downstairs to wash them off as the thunder still rang through the sky. I sighed wanting the gloomy clouds to go away. I went back upstairs to my room leaving the brushes to dry off. I decided to get ready for bed seeing how late it was getting.

"Good night," I said to my parents as I made my way to my room.

I walked to my closet and looked through the hangers to find a nightgown. I chose a tan long-sleeved nightgown. I changed and went to brush my teeth. I looked at myself in the mirror a small glimmer of pink appeared in my eyes but left as soon as it appeared. I blinked multiple times confused.

"I'm just seeing things" I sighed and brushed my teeth.

I walked to my bed and turned to my side. I closed my eyes hugging my pillow as I slowly closed my eyes. The next morning bright light shined through the window. I groaned turning to my side not wanting to get out of bed. I laid there trying to fall back asleep but found it almost impossible to do so. I sighed looking at the ceiling before sitting up still wrapped in blankets.

"I don't feel like today," I said getting out of bed and walking to the window. "It is nice out" I smiled.

I put on a thin white dress and covered it up with a tan dress to cover everything except the sleeves and collar. I walked to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I grabbed my brush and brushed my hair pulling it back. I sighed looking at the bland outfit like usual. I walked downstairs and put my shoes on and grabbed my bag.

"Where do you think you're going?" I heard a voice behind me as I quickly turned around and saw my mom.

"Oh uhm I'm going to the woods again" I chuckled nervously.

"In the mud?"

"I'll be careful" I smiled nervously.

"Just go" she sighed. "I don't know what your sudden obsession is but just go and bring some berries back"

"Will do!" I said quickly. "Bye!"

"Be careful" She said as I walked out the door.

I started walking cringing at the amount of mud I walked through. I walked through the woods being careful not to slip and fall. When I made it to the clearing I didn't see a trace of Taehyun. I'm not surprised considering how bad the mud is.

"I'm such an idiot" I ran my fingers through my hair.

"I don't think so" I heard a voice behind me.

I jumped and slipped dragging the person with me. I groaned sitting up. I looked over at the person only to see a muddy Taehyun.

"You suck," I said looking at my muddy clothes and I could feel the mud in my hair.

"Hey, that's your fault for slipping. I should be saying that to you for dragging me down with you" He smiled sitting up himself.

"No it's your fault for scaring me," I said flicking a little bit of mud on his pants.

"No it's your fault for getting scared," He said.

"Whatever" I rolled my eyes smiling.

"See I'm right," He said and flicked mud on me.

"I'm not about to have a mud fight," I said looking at his hand with mud on it.

"I don't know what made you think that?" He said putting the mud on my shoulder and smiling innocently.

"I'm gonna get in trouble!" I said throwing mud at him.

"Calm down I know a place to wash the mud off" He stood up holding his hand out for me to take.

[maqbool222]

Wall Painting Mistakes You Must Avoid for a Flawless Finish

Painting your walls may seem easy, but small mistakes can lead to uneven finishes, peeling paint, or visible brush strokes. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast or hiring a professional, avoiding these common mistakes will ensure a long-lasting and flawless paint job.

1. Skipping the Prep Work

❌ Mistake: Painting over dirty, dusty, or uneven walls.

✅ Fix:

Always clean the walls before painting—dust and grime can affect adhesion.

Patch up holes and cracks with putty and sand them smooth.

Apply primer to create a smooth and even base, especially if you're changing colors.

💡 Pro Tip: A properly prepared surface ensures better paint coverage and durability.

2. Choosing the Wrong Paint Type

❌ Mistake: Using the wrong paint finish for different areas.

✅ Fix:

Matte & Flat Paint: Best for ceilings and low-traffic areas.

Satin & Eggshell: Great for living rooms & bedrooms—easy to clean but not too shiny.

Semi-Gloss & Glossy: Perfect for kitchens, bathrooms, and trim as they resist moisture and stains.

💡 Pro Tip: Higher gloss = more durability but also highlights imperfections on walls.

3. Ignoring Paint Quality

❌ Mistake: Choosing cheap, low-quality paint to save money.

✅ Fix:

Invest in high-quality paint for better coverage and long-term durability.

Cheap paints often require more coats, which costs more in the long run.

💡 Pro Tip: Look for paints with built-in primer to save time and effort.

4. Not Using the Right Brushes & Rollers

❌ Mistake: Using the same brush or roller for all surfaces.

✅ Fix:

For large walls: Use a 9-inch roller with a ⅜-inch nap.

For textured walls: Use a thicker roller to get into grooves.

For edges & trim: Use an angled brush for precision.

💡 Pro Tip: Always use high-quality brushes and rollers to prevent streaks and shedding.

5. Applying Too Much or Too Little Paint

❌ Mistake: Overloading the roller or applying too little paint.

✅ Fix:

Don’t overload the roller—excess paint causes drips and uneven layers.

Apply two thin coats instead of one thick coat for better coverage.

💡 Pro Tip: Use the "W" technique—paint in a W-shape and fill in gaps for a streak-free finish.

6. Rushing the Drying Process

❌ Mistake: Painting over wet layers or exposing fresh paint to moisture.

✅ Fix:

Allow at least 2-4 hours between coats for water-based paints.

Keep the room well-ventilated but avoid direct fan or heater exposure.

💡 Pro Tip: Avoid painting on humid or rainy days—moisture can cause bubbling and peeling.

7. Forgetting to Protect the Surroundings

❌ Mistake: Getting paint on floors, furniture, and trim.

✅ Fix:

Use drop cloths or plastic sheets to protect floors and furniture.

Mask off trim, windows, and outlets with painter’s tape.

💡 Pro Tip: Remove painter’s tape before the paint fully dries to avoid peeling.

Conclusion

Avoiding these common painting mistakes can save you time, money, and frustration. Whether you're refreshing your home or starting a new project, proper preparation and technique will ensure a smooth, professional-looking finish.

🎨 Planning your next paint project? Follow these expert tips for the best results!

[dominionproperties]

Spice Up Your Apartment: Seasonal Decorating Ideas for Small Spaces

As the seasons change, so can your apartment’s vibe. Don’t settle for the same old décor when you can freshen your space with a touch of each season’s flair. Let’s dive into seasonal decorating ideas for small spaces that’ll keep your apartment looking novel and nice!

Month by Month, Make It Pop

Why stick to one theme when you can have 12? Each month brings its own unique charm, so let your apartment reflect that. Swap out a few key pieces to keep things fresh—no need to overhaul the entire place. For example:

October Happy Harvest: In addition to the usual orange pumpkins, paint some in shades of matte black, deep plum and gold. Add a touch of the unexpected by filling glass jars with dried flowers, sticks and spices.

November Gathering Table: Use a wooden tray filled with faux antlers, scented pinecones and rustic candle holders as a centerpiece. Complement this with earthy-toned table linens and a few strategically placed faux fur accents.

December Winter Wonderland: String white paper snowflakes across windows and fill clear glass vases with branches dipped in white paint, along with a few simple Scandinavian-style star ornaments. For a unique twist, hang floating tea lights from ceiling hooks to create an ethereal effect.

DIY Your Way to Décor Bliss

Nothing says “home sweet home” like decorations you’ve made yourself. They’re a great way to personalize your space without breaking the bank. Ideas include:

Unusual Wreaths: Welcome people to your space with a one-of-a-kind wreath. Think a black cat or candy wreath for Halloween or use fall-inspired materials like feathers or leaves.

Mason Jar Lanterns: For a warm, inviting glow, fill mason jars with fairy or tea lights and line them along counters or windowsills. For autumn, add dried leaves and tiny pumpkins inside. For winter, swap these out for fake snow and mini pinecones.

Fabric-covered Pumpkins and Acorns: Use old sweaters or scarves to wrap pumpkins of all sizes. Create the cutest accents by doing the same with acorns—just cut fabric down to size, wrap and glue if needed. It’s an easy, no-sew project that adds a textured and unexpected look.

Make Every Inch Count

Balancing your love for seasonal decorations with the reality of apartment living can be a bit tricky. The key? Keep it simple. Choose seasonal decorating ideas that don’t overwhelm your space.

Go vertical by stacking three different pumpkin sizes on top of each other. Hang seasonal art on your walls, like framing a piece of fabric (or wrapping paper) in the season’s colors. It’s easy to switch out seasonally and it adds a pop of personality.

Store it Away, Save it for Another Day

Once each season’s over, you’ll need a smart storage solution. Breathable fabric storage bags with clear labels for easy identification are ideal. Use these to store smaller items like ornaments, garlands or candle holders, and hang them in your closet for easy access.

Sliding drawers that fit under your bed or couch are perfect to store larger items like pillows, blankets, tablecloths or wreaths. These drawers make it easy to pull out seasonal items without hassle. Or, use vacuum-sealed bags to reduce those items’ sizes and store them flat under your bed or the top shelf of your closet.

Small Space, Festive Place

Grab a pumpkin spice latte and get going with these seasonal decorating ideas for small spaces. Your apartment deserves to look as spicy as the season itself!

[healthandfitness789]

Transform Your Home with Innovative Texture Coating Techniques

When it comes to enhancing the aesthetic appeal of your living space, few options are as versatile and transformative as texture coating. This technique not only adds depth and character to your walls but also serves practical purposes, such as improving durability and hiding imperfections. In this blog, we'll explore innovative texture coating techniques that can completely revamp your home.

What is Texture Coating?

Texture coating is a decorative finish applied to walls and ceilings, consisting of various materials like paint, plaster, or a combination of both. This finish can create a range of effects, from smooth and subtle to bold and textured. Whether you're looking to modernize your living room or add a rustic touch to your kitchen, texture coating offers endless possibilities.

Benefits of Texture Coating

Aesthetic Appeal: Texture coating can dramatically change the look of a room. With various techniques available, you can choose a style that complements your existing decor.

Conceals Imperfections: If your walls have dents, scratches, or other imperfections, texture coating can effectively hide these flaws, providing a smooth and uniform appearance.

Durability: Texture coatings often provide a thicker, more durable finish than standard paint, making them ideal for high-traffic areas.

Easy Maintenance: Many texture coatings are easy to clean and maintain, making them a practical choice for busy households.

Innovative Texture Coating Techniques

Knockdown Finish: This technique involves applying a thick layer of compound to the wall, which is then flattened with a trowel. The result is a beautiful, textured effect that adds dimension to your space.

Stucco Texture: Often used in exterior applications, stucco texture can also be applied indoors. This durable coating provides a rustic and earthy feel, perfect for creating a cozy atmosphere.

Sand Texture: Incorporating sand into your texture coating can create a unique, tactile finish. This technique works well in coastal-themed or beach-inspired interiors.

Lace Texture: For a more delicate look, lace texture involves applying a thin layer of texture coating and then pressing a lace fabric against it. Once dry, this technique leaves a beautiful, intricate pattern.

Sponging: This technique uses a sponge to apply paint, creating a soft, textured look. It's great for adding depth and interest to walls, particularly in bedrooms or living areas.

How to Apply Texture Coating

Applying texture coating can be a DIY project or a task for professional painters. If you're tackling it yourself, here are some steps to follow:

Prepare the Surface: Clean your walls and fill in any holes or cracks to ensure a smooth base.

Choose Your Texture: Select the type of texture coating you want to apply and gather the necessary materials.

Practice Technique: If you're trying a new technique, practice on a small, inconspicuous area first.

Apply the Texture Coating: Use a trowel, sponge, or roller to apply the texture coating according to your chosen method. Ensure even coverage.

Finish with Paint: Once the texture has dried, you can paint over it to achieve your desired color.

Conclusion

Innovative texture coating techniques offer a fantastic way to personalize your home and elevate its aesthetic appeal. Whether you prefer a modern, sleek finish or a more rustic look, there's a texture coating technique that suits your style. By investing in this transformative process, you can create a space that truly reflects your personality and enhances your living experience.

[toppainters]

If you're looking for interior painting tutorial, know that it involves several detailed steps. Many people today try to change their home's look with paint. Colors can enhance your home's beauty and protect your walls. Remember, painting isn't easy, and you need to pay attention to many details. In this article, we've explained these tips so you can paint more easily and achieve better results. Interior Painting Interior painting involves applying a coat of paint or similar materials to a building's surface to enhance its aesthetic appeal, protect it from environmental damage, and improve its durability. Interior paints are used in spaces like rooms, hallways, bathrooms, and kitchens. The primary qualities of interior paints are good coverage, being free from harmful substances, and providing a beautiful finish. Building Painting Tutorial There are no formal education requirements for building painting, although some technical colleges offer certification, and some workers learn through apprenticeship programs. Most painters learn their trade on the job, mastering how to prepare surfaces, apply coatings, and match colors. To paint a building properly, start by gathering your essential tools. Important tools include brushes, paint rollers, spray guns, sandpaper, paint covers, gloves, work clothes, scrapers, and putty knives. Each tool is crucial, so make sure you have everything you need. When using a paint roller, roll it in the paint until it's evenly covered. Apply the paint to the wall using a crisscross pattern. Then, go back over the area with up-and-down strokes to fill in any gaps. Interior House Painting Interior house painting is done to protect surfaces from weathering, prevent the decay of plaster, wood, and metal, provide a decorative finish, and create a clean, healthy living space. Painting the inside of your house is easier than it seems if done correctly. For instance, there's no need to fear painting rooms with high ceilings; you can use a paint roller with an extension pole or a ladder to reach the ceiling. Home Painting Guide Where to start when painting your home? Step 1: Start with the ceiling. Step 2: Finish painting the walls. Step 3: Complete painting the windows, doors, and door frames. Important Tips and Techniques for Interior Painting Tips to Prevent Paint Streaks If painting isn't done correctly, you might get streaks, which are unsightly layers caused by uneven drying of paint. This usually happens when the paint has dried unevenly. The key to successful interior painting is to keep the paint wet to avoid streaks. Here's how to keep the paint fresh and wet until you finish: Always start from one corner and roll the paint from top to bottom of the wall. Move the roller back up after each stroke. Never let the roller dry out; always keep it loaded with fresh paint. Combining Several Paint Cans into One Large Bucket It might sound strange, but it's good to know that the color from one can of paint can differ from another. During painting, if you're forced to open a new can, you might face color discrepancies. Therefore, it's best to initially mix all your paints into one large bucket for interior house painting. The best approach is to estimate the amount of paint you'll need and then mix your paints in a 5-gallon bucket. When doing this, consider the following tips: If you're not entirely sure how much you'll need, make a rough estimate. Always pour a bit more than estimated into the bucket to avoid running out of paint mid-project. If there's excess, you can pour it back into its original can, but running short on paint during interior painting can lead to issues, so it's wise to have a bit extra in the bucket. If you're painting a relatively large wall, it's best to set aside the roller tray and use a bucket, roller screen, and roller instead. Buckets are much faster than roller trays for painting. When using a bucket, dip the roller into it and roll off excess paint on the roller screen to avoid drips before continuing.

Allowing Paint to Dry Before Removing Painter's Tape In interior house painting, after the paint has dried, never forcefully remove painter's tape or masking tape as it can peel off layers of paint along with it. This creates an undesired effect between the wall and the tape. Allow at least 24 hours for the paint to fully dry before attempting to remove the tape. Once the paint is dry, use a sharp knife to carefully cut and remove the tape. Start from an inconspicuous area to ensure that the paint remains intact and does not peel off. Planning Your Painting Process In interior house painting, professionals typically follow a specific rule and order. For instance, they first paint the detailed or trim areas, then the ceiling, and finally the walls. There's a reason behind this method. When painting decorative areas, you don't need to be overly cautious because any paint that spills onto the wall can be covered when painting the walls themselves. This systematic approach ensures a smooth and efficient painting process. Use Primer In interior house painting, using a primer is crucial. Without it, walls can appear patchy, even if you've done a good job with the paint, and the finish won't be as smooth. Additionally, areas of the wall with slight imperfections or damage can negatively affect the final result. By using primer, you can prevent the paint from appearing dull and uneven. Primer also enhances the glossiness of the paint. It's especially beneficial for walls with minor imperfections, as it helps these areas blend in better after painting. Clean the Walls Before interior house painting, it's crucial to clean the walls thoroughly. A dirty or greasy wall won't absorb paint well. Therefore, it's essential to prepare your home's walls by cleaning them with a degreaser or strong cleaner to remove all dirt and grime. This ensures a smooth surface for easy painting. Summary Interior house painting is one of the best ways to transform the design of a home's space, but it's not as simple as it seems. Painting requires attention to numerous details to achieve good results. In this article, we've highlighted some important tips to consider during painting to ensure a successful outcome. To read more articles, visit 'Top Painters'.

[amazing-info-from-smita]

WALL PAPERS

CHECK OUT MY ARTICLE TO KNOW WHY AND HOW YOU SHOULD PURCHASE WALL PAPERS TO MAKE YOUR HOME LOOK RICH INCLUDING THE DO'S AND DONT'S:

A) BEFORE YOU THINK THAT YOU DONT NEED IT, CHECK OUT 22 REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD PURCHASE?

B) THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND WHIST PURCHASE?

A) USES

1) Have kids who dirty walls.

2) Have sudden Guests coming, and you want to enhance your walls.

3) No time to get it painted.

4) No patience to get it painted.

5) No budget to get it painted.

6) Quick fix needed.

7) Change look of the house.

8) Make walls and House look beautiful.

9) Make each room look different.

10) Change your and your near and dear ones mood.

11) Motivate yourself and your near and dear ones.

12) Its durable.

13) Good quality wall paper lasts for 15 years and is therefore cost effective too.

14) It hides wall fractures.

15) It makes your house look stylish.

16) It makes your house look richer.

17) Since you have choices, you can make your room appear warmer and cosier with dark and luxurious wall paper or if there is a small room then, you can make it appear bigger by choosing a lighter one or even neutral metallic as it brightens up space.

18) Since it can be pasted it hardly takes time, and thus saves energy.

19) If it's hung properly, it can last 3 times longer than the paint.

20) Paint finishes are Matt or gloss usually, however; wall paper textures have more varieties like beads, emboss, metallic, etc.

21) No splatters unlike paints hence not messy.

22) The marks can be wiped clean or washed.

B) THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND WHIST PURCHASE.

LIGHT FACTOR:

Observe the rooms natural light and temperature. If the setting emits lots of window light, then loads of colour range from light to dark, should be chosen. Natural light makes darker colors less sulk.

If there is less window light, then darker colors makes it appear scary. So proper observation and care is crucial.

MAINTENANCE:

Silk screen papers stains can be easily wiped off with wet cloth, thus they ensure long life, while vinyl long coverings should be used for places that have high traffic.

THE OTHER CRUCIAL FACTORS:

The furniture, the rugs, floors, overall color and tones, light fixtures etc should also be taken into the picture and the wall paper color chosen must undoubtedly complement it. The function of the room is also a great additional aspect that should be kept in mind whilst purchasing.

THE PATTERN:

When electing wall papers, you should keep in mind, that a pattern should be planned, so that repetitive choosing and matching gets easier, and there is no boggling as it leads to waste of time, energy and also avoids mishandling, complications thereby easing the whole process.

Matching has 3 types, they being; Linear, Plunge, Randomity.In linear type the same pattern has to be matched at the same height. This is because, the left and right edges of the first strip has to match with the left and right edges of the next strip.

In case of plunge, the strips have to match horizontally and vertically, with whatever the design may be. Randomity as the name indicates does not need worrying about the pattern at all.

Basic understanding is enough to choose the right option, so that the chosen wallpaper flows nicely in the space.

DOS AND DONT'S:

1) An expert advice is crucial to estimate the exact amount required. People dont do it on your own please.

2) The paste should not leave any residues, it should be dried clear, so do a test in advance, and don't use it directly.

3) All 4 sides of the wall, especially the ceiling is neglected by most, however; if done the impact is awesome.

SHOPPING TIPS:

1) Quality doesn't come for cheap, so stop looking for cheap stuffs, if you want your house to stand out.

2) Try samples before ordering the whole.

3) If you have art, then think big, and buy adventurous wall papers keeping the colors in mind.

4) Professionals keep bubbles, bad trims and uneven matches at bay, so don't hesitate to invest, as doing it yourself can be a big mistake, also they will take care of professional techniques like sanding, skim coating and primers if required.

5) Extra is recommended, just in case any of the walls are damaged or stained or may get damaged or stained in future.

ADDITIONAL KNOWLEDGE:

WALL STICKERS:

Wall stickers are also called wall tattoos, and wall vinyls and wall decals. These stickers are fastened on a wall to smoothen, or decorate the surface and also for informational purposes. Wall decors have to be cut, so that we can use them according to our requirements. Thus, the machines, that are used to cut them are called the vinyl cutting machines.

KIND AND SHAPES:

It comprises, of the wall borders, and cut outs to larger murals or designs covering the entire wall. The design consists of words, pictures and shapes of course. They can be small or large, based on necessity. Usually it is somewhere between 30 Cm X 50 Cm and 60 Cm X 100 Cm, larger ones may be 100 X 100 or even larger.

Most of them are not resuable, though few are. The adhesives can be adjusted a few times before the vinyl actually dies. Larger sizes are actually difficult to use, as they can be torn, stretched out, or even get stuck on its own, thereby making it difficult to be removed, adjusted and stuck again.

Wanna Purchase, check for great varieties below, also send a mail to shuchishoppingzonessz@gmail.com for discounts.

https://myshopprime.com/smitanaidu1/mfumtp4

[homeimprovementway]

What is Deep Base Paint? Discover the Power Behind This Game-Changing Coating

Deep base paint is a high-pigment paint used to achieve dark, rich colors with a single coat. It is ideal for covering contrasting colors and provides excellent coverage and hiding power. Deep base paint is commonly used in interior and exterior applications and can be applied to a variety of surfaces, including walls, ceilings, and trim. It is a popular choice for creating dramatic, bold accents in any room. With its deep, saturated color, deep base paint is perfect for adding depth and dimension to your space. Whether you're looking to update your home's interiors or refresh your outdoor surfaces, deep base paint is a versatile and reliable choice.

Credit: www.kbs-coatings.com

The Basics Of Deep Base Paint

Understanding Deep Base Paint Deep base paint is a type of highly pigmented paint that is commonly used for painting walls, ceilings, and other surfaces. It is characterized by its rich and vibrant color, making it an ideal choice for those who want to make a bold statement with their paint choices. Unlike other types of paint, deep base paint requires fewer coats to achieve full coverage due to its high concentration of pigments. One of the main advantages of deep base paint is its ability to create a deep, intense color. This makes it perfect for creating accent walls or adding drama to a space. Whether you want to paint your living room a striking shade of red or create a serene atmosphere with a deep blue hue in your bedroom, deep base paint allows you to achieve the desired effect with ease. Composition And Properties Deep base paint is made up of a variety of components that contribute to its unique properties. The paint typically consists of pigments, binders, solvents, and additives. The pigments are responsible for the color and opacity of the paint, while the binders provide adhesion and durability. Solvents help to thin the paint for easy application, and additives may be included to enhance the performance of the paint. The properties of deep base paint make it an excellent choice for different applications. It has excellent coverage and hiding power, meaning fewer coats are needed to achieve the desired color and coverage. Deep base paint also has good color retention, meaning it maintains its vibrant color for an extended period. Additionally, it is known for its durability, allowing it to withstand regular wear and tear without fading or peeling. The high pigmentation of deep base paint provides excellent color depth and avoids the need for multiple coats, saving time and money. It also allows for easy touch-ups, thanks to the paint's ability to blend seamlessly with the existing color. Furthermore, deep base paint has a low odor and dries relatively quickly, making it a convenient option for indoor projects.

Applications Of Deep Base Paint

When it comes to paint, deep base paint is a popular choice for both interior and exterior applications. Its versatile nature allows it to be used on various surfaces, making it a go-to option for many homeowners and professionals alike. In this article, we will explore the different applications of deep base paint, including its suitability for interior and exterior use as well as the surfaces it works well on. Interior And Exterior Use Deep base paint can be used both on the interior and exterior of a property, making it a versatile option for any painting project. Whether you want to freshen up the walls of your living room or give your home's exterior a new look, deep base paint can provide the vibrant color and durability you need. Suitable Surfaces Deep base paint is suitable for a wide range of surfaces, allowing you to use it in various areas of your home. From drywall and plaster to wood and metal, this type of paint adheres well to many different materials. Whether you want to paint your bathroom walls or give your kitchen cabinets a makeover, deep base paint is up to the task. Here are some surfaces where deep base paint can be used: - Walls - Ceilings - Doors - Trim - Cabinets - Furniture - Exterior siding - Fences - Decks With its ability to adhere to a variety of surfaces, deep base paint gives you the freedom to transform any room or outdoor space with ease.

Advantages Of Deep Base Paint

When it comes to painting, using deep base paint offers several advantages. It provides enhanced coverage, vibrant color depth, and intensity, making it a popular choice for various applications. Let's explore the specific advantages of deep base paint in more detail. Enhanced Coverage Deep base paint offers enhanced coverage compared to standard paints. Its higher concentration of pigments provides better hiding power, allowing for fewer coats to achieve a uniform finish. This not only saves time but also reduces the amount of paint required for a project, resulting in cost savings. Color Depth And Intensity The color depth and intensity of deep base paint are incomparable. With its rich pigmentation, deep base paint creates vivid and long-lasting colors, perfect for achieving a bold and striking look. Whether used for interior or exterior surfaces, the depth and intensity of deep base paint bring life and vibrancy to any space.

Choosing The Right Deep Base Paint

When it comes to deciding on the perfect deep base paint for your project, there are a few key factors to consider. From the color options available to the desired finish and even the application technique, making the right choice can greatly impact your results. In this article, we will delve into the considerations for selecting a deep base paint and explore the different available finishes. Let's get started! Considerations For Selection Choosing the right deep base paint involves taking certain factors into account. Here are some considerations you should keep in mind: - Color Options: Deep base paints typically provide a rich and vibrant color palette. It is important to consider the specific shade or hue you are looking to achieve. Whether it's a bold statement or a subtle accent, the color options available can greatly influence your decision. - Coverage and Opacity: Depending on the project, the coverage and opacity of the paint can play a crucial role. If you are working on a surface that requires complete coverage, choosing a deep base paint with excellent hiding power is essential. This will ensure a smooth and uniform finish without any lingering imperfections. - Surface Type: Different deep-base paints are formulated for specific surface types. Whether you are painting interior walls, furniture, or exterior surfaces, be sure to select a paint that is designed to adhere well to the intended surface. This will ensure maximum durability and longevity of your paint job. - Application Technique: The method of application can also influence your paint selection. Some deep-base paints are suitable for brush application, while others may be better suited for spraying. Considering your preferred application technique can help narrow down your options and ensure a seamless painting process. - Environmental Considerations: If sustainability and eco-friendliness are important to you, it is worth exploring deep-base paint options that are low in volatile organic compounds (VOCs). These paints emit fewer harmful fumes, making them a greener choice for your project and safer for you and your household. Available Finishes Deep base paints come in various finishes, allowing you to achieve the desired look and texture for your project. The available finishes include: Finish Type Description Matte A matte finish provides a non-reflective appearance, giving your walls or furniture a smooth and velvety texture. It works well for spaces where you want to create a subtle, sophisticated atmosphere. Satin The satin finish offers a gentle sheen that falls between matte and semi-gloss. It provides a subtle shimmer and is ideal for areas that require easy maintenance and cleaning, such as bathrooms or kitchens. Eggshell The eggshell finish has a soft, lustrous appearance resembling the texture of an eggshell. It is perfect for spaces that require some durability while still maintaining a timeless elegance, like living rooms or bedrooms. Semi-Gloss Semi-gloss finish delivers a noticeable shine and is highly durable. It is often used on trim, doors, or furniture that requires frequent cleaning, as it repels stains and spills effectively. Gloss The gloss finish provides a high sheen and reflects light, resulting in a polished and sophisticated look. It is commonly used on doors, cabinets, or decorative accents to create a striking visual impact. Now that you are familiar with the considerations for selecting a deep base paint and the different available finishes, you can make a knowledgeable decision based on your unique requirements. Remember to take into account the color options, coverage, surface type, application technique, and environmental factors to ensure a successful and satisfying paint project. Happy painting!

Tips For Using Deep Base Paint

Deep base paint is a high-pigment paint that requires proper mixing before use. It is a key component in creating rich and vibrant colors. To use deep base paint effectively, ensure thorough mixing and apply in thin, even coats for optimal results. Preparation And Priming Before you start using deep base paint, it is crucial to prepare your surface properly. This ensures optimal adhesion and long-lasting results. Follow these simple steps for preparation and priming: - Clean the surface thoroughly to remove any dirt, dust, or debris. You can use a mild detergent solution and a soft cloth for this purpose. - Repair any cracks, holes, or imperfections on the surface using a suitable filler or spackle. Allow it to dry completely. - Sand the surface lightly with fine-grit sandpaper to create a smooth and even texture. This helps the paint adhere better. - Apply a high-quality primer suitable for deep base paint. This not only enhances adhesion but also provides a uniform base for the paint color. Application Techniques To achieve the best results with the deep base paint, it's important to use the right application techniques. Consider the following tips: - Stir the paint thoroughly before use to ensure consistent color and proper mixture of the pigments. - Apply the paint in thin and even coats, rather than in thick layers. This helps prevent drips and ensures a smoother finish. - Use a high-quality brush or roller for painting. The right tools make a significant difference in achieving a professional-looking result. - Allow each coat to dry completely before applying the next one. This ensures proper adhesion and prevents smudging or lifting of the paint. - If needed, apply additional coats for a more vibrant and opaque finish. Just make sure to follow the recommended drying time between coats. - Clean your painting tools promptly after use to prolong their lifespan and maintain their performance for future projects.

Frequently Asked Questions On What Is Deep Base Paint

What Is The Difference Between Behr Medium And Deep Base Paint? Behr medium base paint has a lighter pigment compared to deep base paint, which contains a higher concentration of colorants. The medium base is better for lighter shades, while the deep base is ideal for darker and more intense colors. What Does Base A Paint Mean? Base paint means to start painting a surface with a coat of primer or undercoat. It helps to create a smooth, even base for the topcoat. Applying base paint enhances adhesion, improves durability, and provides a uniform color and finish to your final paint job. How Do You Tint Deep Base Paint? To tint deep base paint, add tinting colorants in small amounts and mix thoroughly. Gradually add more until the desired color is achieved. Use tinting machines or manual methods for accurate results. Always follow the paint manufacturer's guidelines for proper tinting procedures. What Base Paint Do I Need? For your base paint, make sure to choose a high-quality option that suits your project. Consider factors like the surface you're working with, such as wood or metal, and the type of paint you plan to apply on top. Consult a professional or follow the manufacturer's recommendations for the best results.

Conclusion

In the world of interior design, choosing the right type of paint can make all the difference. Deep base paint offers rich, bold colors that can transform any space. Its high pigment concentration and versatile nature make it ideal for creating a dramatic and striking look. Whether you're adding depth to a room or accentuating architectural details, deep base paint is a powerful choice for your next project. Read the full article

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The Art of Home Paint: Idea for a Perfect Finish

Painting is a classic tradition that has been around for centuries. The art of home paint can change a plain and shabby room into an attractive and dynamic one, adding a touch of character to your home. Whether you're preparing to renovate your residence or merely want to fix up a space, paint can provide your home a brand-new lease on life. However, painting your home can be a daunting task, specifically if you have no previous experience. Right here are some tips and methods to help you attain a perfect finish when repainting your home.

Prep work is Secret

Before you start painting, it's vital to prepare the surface area properly. Prepping the surface area includes cleansing, fining sand, and filling any kind of holes or splits. A clean surface area will certainly assist the paint adhere better, leading to a smoother and a lot more long lasting coating. Sanding assists to get rid of any kind of loosened or flaky paint, while filling up any kind of openings or cracks makes sure that the paint will certainly not peel or crack over time. When prepping your walls for paint, it's necessary to eliminate any kind of dirt or particles to prevent unequal or blotchy paint.

Select the Right Paint

Choosing the best paint is just as important as prepping the surface. The sort of paint you pick will figure out the finish and durability of your wall surfaces. There are different types of paint coatings offered, consisting of level, eggshell, satin, semi-gloss, and gloss. Flat paint has no luster and is best matched for ceilings and walls with blemishes, while eggshell has a slight shine and appropriates for low-traffic locations. Satin and semi-gloss have a greater luster and are much more sturdy, making them suitable for high-traffic areas such as bathroom and kitchens. Gloss paint has the greatest sheen and is one of the most durable, making it suitable for woodwork, doors, and cupboards.

Usage High-Quality Devices

Making use of top notch tools can make a large difference in the result of your paint job. Buying high-grade brushes, rollers, and paint trays will ensure that your paint takes place smoothly and equally. Low-quality brushes can leave streaks and brush marks, while low-quality rollers can cause the paint to splash or leave an unequal finish. Making use of a top notch paint tray with a lining will clean up a lot easier, allowing you to recycle the tray numerous times.

Don't Forget the Guide

Primer is an essential step in the paint process that ought to not be avoided. A guide will aid to conceal any spots or imperfections and ensure that the paint adheres better to the surface area. A good guide will certainly likewise assist the paint take place even more equally, resulting in a smoother finish. Primer is specifically vital when paint over a dark or formerly repainted surface area. A primer will prevent the old color from bleeding with and make sure that the brand-new shade looks fresh, Кликнете върху този уебсайт and lively.

Use Paint Appropriately

When applying paint, it's vital to utilize the correct technique. Begin by cutting in, which indicates painting the edges and corners of the wall initially. Make use of a brush to reduce in around the sides and edges, seeing to it to paint a straight line. Once you have cut in, use a roller to apply the paint to the rest of the wall surface. Roll the paint on in a W shape, and afterwards use a cross-hatch pattern to smooth out the paint. This technique will make certain that the paint goes on efficiently and uniformly, resulting in a remarkable surface.

Take Your Time

Painting can be a time-consuming job, yet taking your time is important to attaining a flawless coating. Hurrying through the painting procedure can result in mistakes and a careless surface. Taking your time and applying the paint in thin, even layers will make sure that the paint takes place efficiently and dries evenly.