#cheers to tumblr screwing my format in the ass

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I randomly decided to do a writing prompt to this image. If you give it a read listen with:

https://open.spotify.com/user/1243452543/playlist/78SVg4ITAZY451Z5a8lhUW?si=oOS35DzMQlifeJHp0t-c1g

Mr. Wong’s

           She came in like she always did, sort of. Completely disheveled. She was always a mess but would always greet me with a smile.

           Today is different though. I know that. Things don’t feel right. Her smile is forced and she’s not making eye contact. I smile still, but it feels wrong.

           I remember the first time we came here together. It was sort of a joke.

           I had just left work and answered the phone to hear a “Come on, let’s do something different tonight!” I remember her blurting that out before I could even say my “hello”.

           “So you’re telling me that you want to go eat AT a Chinese restaurant?” I said quickly, the joking judgement in my voice. “You wanna go sit in a booth and eat your chicken lo mein there? That’s what you really want?”

           “Yes, yessss,” she pleaded. “No one ever eats their Chinese food in; they just take it out! It’s silly, it’ll be fun!” she quickly replied, her mind already made up. 

          And I loved her so whatever made her happy made me happy.

          “Mr. Wong’s it is! It’s a date,” I passively went along.

          “Really!? Yay! Thanks babe!” I could hear her smile through the phone, it was those little things that reminded me she was the one.

          “Yea, of course. I just left. I’ll see you there at 6. I love you, Sweets”

          “I love you too, always”

          “Always…”

          We ended up being the only ones in the restaurant. For two hours we people watched, making up their imaginary lives; who we thought they were, and where they were going. Parents with their kids, the single bachelor, all there to pick up their dinner and go. But no one came in and sat. No one ever stayed…

***

          Today is no different.. Empty, aside from the owner’s son, who has been on his phone in the corner booth since I showed up.

          As soon as the bell over the door rings he looks up; Mr. Wong, happy to see May calls a friendly greeting from behind me.

          “Hello, I’ll be right over!”

           He was a man of few words; his wife was the talker. I remember the second or third time we came and decided to sit and eat, his wife was so surprised and pleased that we were there again to stay, she was almost beside herself. Mr. Wong had to physically pull her away from our table, saying something in Chinese. Always speaking Chinese, except when speaking to us.

          “O, no, thank you, Mr. Wong,” May immediately responds,  “I won’t be eating tonight, sorry!” There’s a pause, and I’m hung on the emptiness in her voice. “Thank you, sorry,” she repeats, more quietly this time.

          She’s so apologetic. It’s not even manners; it’s her feeling that she takes up too much space. She always responds like she’s done something wrong. Like she’s a burden.

          She isn’t.

          I swallow it down, the things I want to say. I’ve given up that battle. She’s perfect. I divert my eyes down as she goes to look at me, I don’t want her to see the disappointment I know she wants to apologize again for it.

          Her one boot is untied and I’m thrown back to 8 months ago.

          We came in here at 2 in the morning, after we binge-watched Stranger Things. We were a bit intoxicated, but what else are you supposed to do when work gets cancelled because of snow? And what else are you supposed to do when it’s 1:30 in the morning, everything else is closed, and we’re 3 bottles of wine deep. And we’d skipped right over dinner.

          I don’t remember who came up with the idea, but we knew that Wong’s was always open stupid late, so the decision was basically made for us. We bundled up, threw our boots on, and stumbled out into the cold city streets,  each of us looking like Randy from A Christmas Story, with our scarves up to our eyes.

          We were laughing and holding each other up as we slipped about the sidewalk, tears running down our faces at how juvenile this was of us. But we re-lived that night for months: how Wong made soup, and stayed open until 2:30, just for us. His “beloved regulars,” as he always called us.

***

             We finally make eye contact. I’ve been dreading this moment because I know what her sad eyes look like, and I don’t think I can handle this right now. I don’t know if I’m ready. I glance up, and here they are, sad eyes glistening in the low fluorescent lighting, staring, almost unblinking, as if they are waiting for me to make the first move. My foot twitches, I don’t get up, I don’t hug her, we just stare.

             Her big, brown eyes.

             Have you ever seen how brown eyes catch the light? Have you ever been told that you are loved while looking into brown eyes?

             Magnificent.

             I love her eyes; so gentle. She’s one of those people that can smile with just her eyes. They usually come with such a sense of calm. Usually.

             I’ve seen many an emotion through these windows to the soul. But if there was one emotion that I liked the least, one I didn’t love.

             It’s these, the ones I’m looking into right now. The ones that look like they have been crying for hours? The ones that don’t want to be here?  

            Neither do I.

            She puts her bag down on the seat as she slides in, breaking  eye contact. Mr. Wong quietly appears at the end of the table; he places two cups of water in front of us, forcing me to look away. Forcing me to stop scanning over her disheveled appearance, as he drops a straw in front of each of us.

           “You sure, no food?” He questions, sort of confused. Probably picking up on the weirdness in the air.

           “No, thank you,” I smile, looking up at him. “The water is fine.”

            I pull mine closer, tearing the wrapper off the straw. He nods and walks back to the counter. I flatten the wrapper over my fingers. I can feel the silence. I watch a drop of condensation roll down my glass and onto the table.

            “I’m not thirsty,” I hear her whisper. Her voice is small, and I can’t help but look. She picks at her nail, not looking at me at all.

             “Okay,” I respond, knowing I’m only drinking to ignore my nerves. To ignore this situation. To give me something to pretend this isn’t happening.

              We sit like this, for what feels like an eternity. The only sound being the rain and the faint noises of the kitchen. Neither of us wants to start. Neither of us know where to start.

               I know I don’t.

              “Why here? Why did we come here?” I think, my eyes begin to water. I look up trying to hold back tears, hold back all of this emotion, until a more convenient time. A time when I’m not sitting across from her. A time when I’m not in a place where even the ceiling tiles remind me of her.

               But I can’t help remembering; remembering back to our first anniversary here, in this booth. In our booth. I remember back to the vacation we took cross-country a year ago. I remember us being madly in love. Head over heels. I remember back to when we moved in together, into that place that we couldn’t afford, and had no business living in. I remember back to a month ago; her and I laughing at some b-rate horror film. Her smile, forever etched in my mind.

                I look up, directly into those sad, brown eyes.

                Without thinking, I grab her hand, wiping my cheek with the back of my other. We’re both crying, and I try so hard to smile. For her. For us. What my face does, I’m not sure, but nothing feels right.

                 We’re supposed to be eating dumplings right now.

                 We’re supposed to be throwing straw wrappers at each other.

                 We are supposed to be in love, always.

                 But not anymore.

                 No one came in and sat. No one ever stayed…

[green-writes-sanderssides]

Love and Lies

Chapter 1 - Remus: Two Truths, One Lie

Pairings: Romantic DLAMP, Queerplatonic Demus/Dukeceit

Warnings: Cursing, typical Remus talk

Summary: Janus finds that his heart has much more capacity for love than he originally thought. With the support of Remus, his queerplatonic partner, he decides it's time to go after that love.

Tumblr Mobile likes to screw up my formatting, so please either read in a browser or on Ao3!

     “Remus?” He creaked open the door to The Duke’s room with care, knowing Remus could be doing a number of horrifying things. He was used to it, of course, but this conversation made him… more hesitant than usual.

     Fortunately, he wasn’t doing anything that would warrant worry - unfortunately, Janus had woken him up from a rather cozy-looking nap. “...Janny?”

     “Apologies. I didn’t mean to-”

     “Deedee!” Remus sprang from his bed as fast as he could, running up to Janus and greeting him with a tight hug. “I haven’t seen you all day! Haven’t been hiding from me now, have you?”

     “Of course not.” He wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, not that it mattered; Remus wasn’t as skilled as recognizing Deceit’s lies as Virgil was.

     Remus kept his arms around Janus’s shoulders as he backed away and, as always, gave the snake a genuine smile. It always managed to cheer him up, at least a little. “Good! You wanna join me in some napping and cuddles?”

     “Uh, in a bit, maybe.” As much as cuddling up with his queer-platonic partner sounded amazing at that very moment, there were much more important matters at hand. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something.”

     “Oh. Oh!” Remus lightened up with a look of realization, before giving Janus a sly smirk. “I know what this is about.”

     “Do you, now?” he responded with squinted eyes and a furrowed brow.

     In turn, The Duke simply grabbed his gloved hands and dragged him to the side of his bed to sit down. The whole situation was making Janus’s nerves spike up in a rare occurrence. He had no idea what Remus was about to say, but it surely wouldn’t be-

     “So you want to fuck my brother.”

     “Wha- Christ, Remus!” If he was drinking anything, he would have surely choked on it. Instead, he lightly pushes Remus down on the bed. “Yes, because my asexual ass wants to, as you put, ‘fuck’ anyone!”

     The Duke giggled and sat up on his elbows. “I know, I know, I just wanted to get a reaction out of you. You’re so tense!” He moved to sit up completely, wrapping one arm around Deceit’s waist. “The point is, you are in love with my brother. And Virgil and Patton and Logan but I’m more interested in how you fell in love with my brother, of all people!”

     “I- well I wouldn’t say in love, necessarily- uh…” Remus responded to his stutters with a cross of the arms and a raise of his brow, unconvinced and unimpressed. “How did you even know?”

     “The same way I knew you wanted to be closer with me. Different kind of close, of course, but same principle.” He flopped down back on the bed with hands resting behind his head. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Double Dee.”

     Janus buried his face into his gloves and groaned. “What am I supposed to do, Reem?”

     “I don’t know, kidnap them? Bury them alive and pretend they never existed? I don’t know why you’re trying to ask me for love advice.”

     “Who else am I supposed to ask?!” He groaned once again and flopped down next to Remus. He felt absolutely pathetic, falling in love with all of them. They may be okay having him around now, but how could they ever…? “Is it too late to take you up on that cuddling offer?”

     “Aww, c’mere Janny.” Remus adjusted himself against his pillows, opening up his arms for Janus to fall into them. He took the offer without hesitation and sighed into his partner’s chest. “Y’know,” he twirled a strand of hair on top of Deceit’s head, his hat discarded to the side. “Roman always smiles when I mention you. I think he’s quite fond of you.”

     Janus moved his chin up to look Remus in the eyes. “Even if that were true, which I highly doubt, that’s only one out of four.” While he’d be pleasantly surprised to have even one of them like him back, he’d rather be with none of them than not all of them. “You seem to be dwelling on Roman a lot. Are you not…?”

     “Oh, no no no, I just find it hilarious. No one expects the dragon to fall in love with the prince, do they?” The dark side moved one of his hands to scratch at his neck. “Well, it was admittedly weird at first, but I got over it pretty quickly- Anyway, What makes you think the other three can’t like you too? Morality adores you!”

     He huffed and rolled his eyes. Besides Roman, Remus still often called the other sides by their titles. He could only assume it was to keep a level of distance, which saddened Janus just a bit. “Patton ‘adores’ you as well now. Are you going to go around claiming he’s in love with you?”

     Remus immediately grimaced at the claim. “Can’t exactly argue with that one, though I do think it’s quite different. What about-”

     “Don’t even try to argue that Logan would like me. We are constantly butting heads.”

     “So did him and Roman, and now they’re probably butting something else right at this moment!” Janus gave him a furrowed brow, a look of ‘ what the fuck does that even mean, Remus,’ which only managed to make him chuckle.

     He sighed and buried his head back into his QPP’s chest. “And that leaves one.”

     “...Right.” He just barely catches Remus’s mumble, feeling his body stiffen just slightly. “He… I mean, you two are good now, right? He forgave you.” That one hurt the most. Remus avoided using any names or titles for Virgil, instead opting to just refer to him in pronouns only. Calling him by his name would hurt Remus, but calling him by his title would hurt Virgil.

     “Theoretically, yes.” The anxious side had even apologized to him; even though Janus had hurt him first (and had continued to do so), he admitted he might have been overly harsh to him as well. Janus appreciated it, but he also didn’t agree with the notion that Virgil needed to apologize in the first place. “But I could never expect him to trust me.”

     There was a pause, before Remus settled his chin into Janus’s hair. “There was always something special between you two.” There was a sting in Deceit’s heart at those words. They weren’t close in the traditional sense, but… they looked out for each other. And Janus ruined that. “I don’t think that ever really left.”

     “And when did you become such an optimist?”

     The Duke gave a gasp of fake offense. “Me? An optimist? Why, I’d never!” At Janus’s chuckle in response, he gave a quick ruffle to his hair. “I just know anyone would be a fool not to love you. I can’t say if it will be the way you want it or not, but they will love you.”

     From the bottom of his heart, he wanted to believe that. He was all too familiar with not getting what he wanted, and the others loving him as a friend would be more than he could ever ask for, but even that was just too good to be true. He wasn’t supposed to get a happy ending - but, then again, that’s exactly what he fights for every day. He breaks the code and forces what Thomas wants. Why couldn’t he do the same for himself?

     He couldn’t force someone to love him, but he can fight for it. He can try.

     “...Thank you, Remus. You are okay with this, right? If anything were to actually happen between them and me, I mean.”

     “Of course! None of my business what you do with that snake tongue of yours.” Before Deceit could express his distaste, he noticed Remus’s form tensing up once again, his face looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “Just, uh… If they’re not okay with us--”

     “You’re my first priority,” he interrupted him. “I was with you first.”

     Remus moved to rub at his neck, a sad sort of smile on his face. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your love life like that. That wouldn’t be fair of me.”

     “Bullshit.” Janus couldn’t believe he would ever suggest such a thing. All Remus ever wanted was to be heard and cared for, yet he was willing to let that all go for him. He’d never allow that to happen. “You are a part of my love life, Remus. It isn’t romantic, but it isn’t any lesser, either. You really think I’d throw you away like that?”

     He was happy to see Remus’s smile turn genuine, but he didn’t have much time to think about that fact as he was tackled back into a hug. “No, I was just testing you.”

     “I can tell when you lie, Reem.”

     “And I can turn your scales into exposed tissue, but I’m choosing to hug you instead.”