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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 3: The Summer Has to End Someday

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter three of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is occasionally described as "curvy." If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

*********************

Philadelphia 1935

"Sit still." You say, dipping your brush gently in the small pot of water at your knee, before stroking it through your paints and placing it against the pad of watercolor paper in your lap.

It was a beautiful day at Fairmount Park. Children ran across the grassy fields flying kites and avoiding the outstretched hands of their mothers, while couples lounged on blankets with picnic baskets overflowing with sandwiches and champagne. The sun was sending gilded light across the pond that gently rippled with the breeze that brushed through your hair, pulling it across your rosy cheeks that blushed under Ben's gaze.

It was your 16th birthday and despite your mother's insistence to take you shopping in the busy stores that lined the streets downtown, you had refused, choosing rather to come to the park and prepare your mind for the party that would follow this evening. You had already glimpsed the abomination of purple tulle that your mother expected you to wear and you hoped that a quiet afternoon in the park would wipe the monstrosity from your memory.

At least before you were squeezed into said dress later that evening.

"I’m bored." Ben stated, leaning back on his elbows where he was sprawled next to you in the lush grass that was no doubt staining the light blue dress that clung to your body. One you had chosen for yourself that accentuated the way you looked, rather than hid it as the other dresses your mother bought for you. However, when Ben came to pick you up this morning your mother had insisted you bring a coat, despite it being the middle of summer. You hadn't missed the flash of anger in Ben's eyes when she wrapped the coat around your shoulders to hide your curves. The same coat that Ben immediately removed when you walked out the door and threw over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the front of your home, before looping his arm in his to direct you toward the park.

"It was you who said you wanted me to paint you." You sigh, looking up at your friend.

Ben's navy suit jacket was open, the buttons of his matching vest and white shirt underneath strained as his muscular shoulders pulled against them and made your breath catch as your eyes traced them. There was a pale pink phlox flower in his front jacket pocket, one you stuffed there earlier despite the roll of his eyes. You had wanted some contrast between his suit and the color of the flower, and despite Ben's annoyance, he obliged you as he always did.

"I was hoping there would be less clothing involved." Ben grins at you.

"You know, no other gentleman speaks to me the way you do."

"I didn't know you considered me a gentleman y/n. I thought that you knew me better than that." His grin quickly shifts into a mischievous smirk that makes you bite the inside of your cheek and turn back to the page.

A year had passed since Ben got you watercolor paints and ignited a unquenchable passion for painting. Something about the way the colors ran together soothed you, the gentle stroke of the brush against the page calming the usual frustrations of your life.

One of which was sitting beside you, looking entirely too attractive for someone who'd just rolled out of bed and was wearing the exact outfit he had been wearing when he snuck through your window last night. This morning he had crawled out the window and rang the doorbell at the front of your home, acting as if he'd been up for hours.

You pause at the thought of last night. Ben was leaving for boarding school number seven at the end of the week, but the way he looked when he showed up the night before, rumpled and smelling of cheap whiskey, meant that he and his father had another disagreement. Despite his inability to talk about what happened, if it was your burden to bear, to always be there for him, you welcomed it.

"Hey." Ben's hand comes down on your arm to draw your attention back to him.

You look back up at him. "Hmm?"

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He turns his head to the side to examine you.

"Thinking about the party."

"Oh right. Should be fun. Can't believe I received an invitation. I thought your mother would have burned it-"

"She tried." You smirk. "I snatched it from the fireplace just for you."

"How thoughtful."

“Selfish really. There’s no way I’m going through one of those parties without you again.” You snort, catching his emerald gaze.

“The Christmas party was not that bad-“

“Says the guy who got drunk on eggnog and then preceded to flirt with a potted plant!”

“That potted plant was more interesting than that idiot How-“ Ben’s next words are cut off.

"Y/n!" You hear someone shout from behind you.

Howard Stine struts towards the two of you across the sidewalk, where a few other boys stand in a tight group. He’s wearing a sand colored suit and vest, with the chain of his golden pocket watch catching in the warm sunlight with each stride forward. At Howard’s appearance, Ben sits up from his relaxed position, leaning towards you.

“Speak of the devil.” You hear him mutter.

Ben nods his head towards the group of boys, who nod back in greeting. Ben was more popular than you. Your own circle of friends was reduced to Ben, your housekeeper, the gardener, and a handful of girls your own age that only wished to talk about how close you and Ben were and once they realized you were just friends, they then proceeded to ask you if you could set them up.

As if you would ever set them up with him, you were still trying to set yourself up with him.

A few of the group of boys you recognize as the sons of your father's friends and others boys you'd seen Ben stumble around with on the streets after a night at the bar around the corner. You watch Ben's left hand go to the flower in his front jacket pocket and crunch it in his fist before the others can see it.

The action made you smile to yourself, because despite Ben not wanting them to see him with the flower, he had still allowed you to place it there.

Howard blocks the rays of sun above you so that you don't have to squint up at him. He wasn't terrible looking. Howard was your height, with reddish brown hair that was slicked back over his head and he had a dusting of cinnamon colored freckles on his cheeks, but he was nowhere near as tall or broad as Ben. Where Ben was muscular, Howard was lanky, his hands small and sweaty. Ben moved with a grace and elegance that you couldn't comprehend, while Howard plodded along, stumbling on solid ground. Howard's pointed chin was nothing like the strong jaw of Ben's rugged face. Something that you studied whenever Ben was with you and you spent several nights devoted to capturing in your sketchbook.

"Hi Howard. How are you?" You smile at him, brushing back your hair from your face with your free hand.

Howard's eyes move from Ben to you, taking in your close proximity. Ben's hand was still touching your arm, and the tip of your knee an inch away from the outer edge of Ben's thigh. In fact, Ben had leaned towards you so close when Howard came over that his breath rustled through your hair.

"Good. What are you doing?” Howard moves a hand through his hair to tousle the reddish waves.

“Ben is obliging me. It’s a beautiful day and I wished to capture it.” You wave the brush in your right hand for emphasis.

“Ah.” Howard squints at the watercolor paper. “Well it’s certainly interesting. I didn’t know you liked to paint.”

“She likes all kind of things Howie.” Ben responds with a smirk, his voice dripping with suggestion.

Your eyes flash a warning to where Ben sits. He’s withdrawn his hand, but he’s still leaning close enough to you that you can smell the spicy scent of his shampoo and cologne.

It reminds you of this morning when you woke up and realized that Ben had pulled your back into his chest while he was sleeping. When his arm was curled around your waist as he buried his head in your hair and muttered something in his sleep that you couldn’t understand. The thought makes you flush bright red, remembering how wonderful and intimate it felt to be there.

Howard ignores him. “We're all going to go to Wallman's on the corner for shakes, I was wondering if you wanted to come?" He doesn't acknowledge Ben.

“Well-“ You begin to say, taking in the beauty of the pond and your paint stained hands.

The truth was you didn’t want to go, you wanted to sit there in the grass forever with Ben, where you couldn’t tell if you were warm because you were under the golden light of the sun or under Ben's gaze.

“She’s busy.” Ben says before you can finish your sentence.

Howard’s smile becomes tight. “I think I was asking her.”

Ben shrugs. “And I think I just gave you an answer.”

"Why don't you just-" Howard begins, but Ben is already up off the ground, pressing his chest against Howard's, his green eyes blazing in the light of the sun.

"Why don't I just what Howie?" Ben's voice is low, the deep rumble stirring something in the pit of your stomach.

You loved a lot of things about Ben, but his temper was not one of them. Ben rarely lost his temper with you, yes you did annoy him and he would lose his patience, but he often turned that anger into teasing.

"Ben." You stand, leaving your watercolor pad on the ground, so you can place your hand on Ben's shoulder. It was supposed to be a gentle reminder. Ben knew that you were more than capable of making your own decisions, but you couldn't help but wonder why Ben had responded the way he did.

Is he jealous?

Ben looks down at you with a frown, but finally he sighs and takes a step back.

Howard's eyes are narrowed at where Ben now stands to your right, Ben's arms crossed over his muscular chest, but Howard's gaze shifts back to you expectantly.

"Howard that's really sweet, but it's getting late and I have to get ready for the party tonight." You force a giggle to ease the tension in Howard's shoulders. "You are coming right?"

"Of course." He smiles. "I was hoping that you'd save a dance for me."

"She-" Ben begins to say, but you elbow him in the side, hard.

"Of course I will."

“Great. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” He frowns one more time at Ben before turning back to the group of boys on the sidewalk and leaving with them.

Ben stands there for a minute watching him go.

"You should try to be nicer to him." You say, tugging on the sleeve of Ben’s jacket to grab his attention.

"Why?" Ben snorts.

"Because-" You shrug. "He's sweet and he’s interested in me. I’d hope that you two would get along.”

Ben rolls his eyes. "You could do better."

"Last time I checked the suitors aren't exactly lining up. Not to mention you tend to scare them all off." You wave a hand around you for emphasis. "And I'm not getting any younger."

"Neither am I, but you don’t see me settling for Howard Stine.”

"I didn't realize he was your type." You snort rolling your eyes at him as you sit back down in the grass and pick up your painting again. "I haven't seen you courting anyone recently."

You try to keep the happiness from your voice at the thought. Ben hadn't been trying to chase after as many girls in the past few months as he had previously. And you wondered if his father was trying to arrange him with anyone. If Ben’s mother had still been alive you knew that she would have found someone suitable for Ben, but you’d heard your father say something to your mother behind a closed door that Ben’s father had asked about one of the daughters of his work colleagues.

The thought makes something in your chest tighten to the point of snapping. You hated the idea of watching Ben court someone else, watching someone else kiss him, run their fingers through his hair, and hated the thought that Ben would spend the night with someone else other than you.

Of course when he spent the night with you, all you did was talk, but it was possible that Ben might find that sense of companionship with a lover rather than you.

And then where would you be? Alone.

Ben reclines back as he did before, shaking his hair out behind him, and closing his eyes. It's lighter in the sun, more of a honeyed brown than the usual oak. "I leave in a week."

"Hasn't stopped you in the past." You mutter more to yourself than him.

"Maybe nothing has caught my eye." He opens one eye to study you.

"Hmm."

“Or perhaps I’d much rather spend my last days of freedom with you.” He flirts with a wide smile.

“Last days of freedom?” You laugh, ignoring his tease. “We both know you’ll probably be back within the month.”

Instead of laughing, Ben’s smile fades into a frown and you wonder if he’s thinking of his father.

“Ben I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

Ben shrugs it off and pulls out a silver flask from his jacket pocket. As soon as he opens it, the sour smell of whiskey floats through the air before he takes a swig. He holds it out to you, but you wave it away, focusing back on your paper.

"So if he's the one, why didn't you go with him to Wallman's? You made up a bullshit excuse that you had to go home." Ben takes another pull from the flask, but you can't shake the shift in his tone.

"I wanted to finish painting." You say to avoid the truth, that you didn’t want to leave him, because you could tell he was still upset over whatever he and his father talked about last night. “But I do need to go home. Mother is no doubt waiting with a horde of maids to make me presentable.”

You frown to yourself imagining next few hours where you would be slathered in creams, your hair tugged and swept up over your head, your body scrubbed almost painfully, and finally the corset that would cut off your circulation and make it impossible to breathe.

You wondered if any other girls your age were subject to such torture.

“Just admit it y/n, you find Howard as boring as a sack of flour.”

“He’s from a good family, he’s a gentleman. My mother would be pleased-“ You start to say, defending Howard even though you didn’t like him as much as you liked Ben.

“Your mother would be pleased with a cactus as long as it meant getting you out of her sight.” Ben snaps back.

His sharp words sting against your skin and you drop your eyes to the paper again, welcoming the silence that follows. Because he was right.

Your mother thought you were a disappointment. She had started comparing you to your sister-in-law who was flawless, effortlessly beautiful and graceful. Your mother voiced her disapproval many ways with disapproving looks, snide comments on what you wore, how you looked... It wasn’t for lack of trying. You did whatever she asked but each time it was never good enough for her. You weren’t enough. And it was something you kept close to your heart. Ben knew that better than anyone.

That’s why his words hurt so much.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry-“

“It’s okay.” The tears that burn in your eyes smear the image of the page in your lap.

“Y/n please look at me.”

You don’t raise your head. “I should go. She’ll be mad if I’m late-“ You begin to put away your things.

Ben’s fingertips come to your chin, tilting it back to look at him once more. He looks sorry. His green eyes are paler now, like clover, wide and open, his mouth pulled down into an apologetic frown.

“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. Just stay a little longer.”

You sit there for a moment, his hand cupping your cheek and as a tear falls Ben brushes it away with his thumb. The gesture is gentle and surprising. Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but this was more intimate. It made your breath catch.

“Okay.” You whisper.

Ben relaxes and drops his hand from your face, but he’s still watching you. You know he’s trying to think of something to say to make you feel better, but when he can’t come up with anything, he reaches over and plucks another flower from the bush on his left, before stuffing it in his front jacket pocket.

It enough to make you smile and this time he returns it, understanding that he's been forgiven. You allow the warmth of his gaze seep into your skin and you bask in the warm glow of his smile.

***********************

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series, let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys series #the boys season 3

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e-vay · 3 months

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The Sonnet of Domino & Phlox - Ch1

[A/N: In game canon, we’ve never learned who Sonic’s parents are or what they were like. I decided to make my own interpretation for Sonic’s mother and father. This is the story of their brief but significant meeting.]

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It’s only a couple of days.

A teal colored hedgehog took in a deep breath. The morning air was crisp in her lungs, a sure sign of the autumnal equinox. If she had any hope of making it through the next two seasons out in the wilderness, she’d need to stock up on supplies. Her thin tank top and patched slacks wouldn’t be enough to warm her fur against the icy winter breeze and scavenging for food in the desolate snow would be nearly impossible. She had to stock up now and that meant a trip to the nearest town.

Domino let out a puff of air before adjusting the backpack on her shoulders and marching through the entry gates. The young woman didn’t care much for cities. But, strapped for cash, there was no better place to look for odd jobs and errands to earn enough dough to purchase the winter gear she’d need. Her first stop would be to find the village square and look for a board with job postings, but that meant a trek through the marketplace…

Despite the early morning hour, the dirt path was bustling with locals and travelers alike. Merchants shouted praises of their wares, dueling for the attention of potential customers that filled the street and bounced from vendor to vendor. Children tugged at their parents’ hems and screamed for the shiny new toys that decorated several booths. “Ugh,” Domino thought to herself, “Markets are the worst.”

The blue teen shoved her hands in her pockets and pinned her arms to her sides to make her petite frame even smaller, better to weave through pedestrians and get through the market making as little eye contact as possible. She hardly ever had any money on her and what little she might have was always saved for the absolute necessities. Shopping only served to annoy and embarrass her. Domino could only turn down the constant barrage of salespeople with so many polite “nothankyous” before she found herself grinding her teeth. Worse than the merchants were the shoppers themselves. She could physically feel their eyes burning holes into her skin, sneering at her tattered clothes and remarking the ragged shoes bound to her feet with tape. Some would even pull their bags tighter to their bodies as if the girl were planning to snatch it away from them. That hurt the most.

It was better for herself and everyone else if she stayed where she belonged: out in the wild.

It’s only a couple of days.

A scent lofted through the air that made Domino’s mouth curve into a smile. Not everything about city life was awful. In fact, there was one thing that she was always guaranteed to love, no matter which village she wound up in: the food!

She lifted her snout and took in the different aromas that danced through the air. Spices mixed with warm smoke as chefs expertly cooked their meats to a sizzling perfection. Warm, almost sour notes were sure signs of a baker pulling freshly baked bread from a hot oven. Domino began to salivate. She knew she had to get to the job board, but it wouldn’t be smart to work on an empty stomach, right? She might have just enough cash for a slice of-

“Whu-!”

She yelped in surprise as she stumbled into a wall of purple fur and quills and heard the unmistakable sound of something fragile – and likely expensive – crashing against the earth.

“Oh Gaia!” Domino shrieked. She darted to the front of the person she had just bumped into and grabbed his shoulders. “So sorry! I wasn’t lookin’!”

The boy, a fellow hedgehog with wild, indigo fur, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, his eyes were narrowed onto a spot on the ground. His mouth gaped but the only sound to escape his lips could best be described as the high-pitched squeak of air being released from a balloon.

Domino’s eyes followed the trail of his stare that led to a film camera laying in the dirt. His hands remained open and frozen in place from where the camera had just leaped.

“Oh boy,” Domino muttered. She crouched down to survey the damage. The shell of the device was cracked in several places. Some pieces completely snapped off and lay about like thick, plastic confetti. She gingerly picked up the camera and her shoulders sank with relief to see that the lens hadn’t fractured. “Oh, this is nothin’!”

The girl rested the camera on her lap and spun her backpack around to search for tools. Once her hand made purchase of the required items, she thrust it into the air with pride. Her arm was threaded through a roll of duct tape, wearing it much like a bracelet, while she held up a heavily used bottle of super glue.

“I don’t think that’s going to-”

Just as soon as the male had found his voice, he was once again rendered speechless by the blue hedgehog as she seemed to perform rapid-fire surgery on the device. Her hands moved too quickly for him to understand what all she was doing, expertly switching from tape to glue and back, pinching here and ripping there. In what could only have been a matter of seconds, Domino sprang up to her feet and held out a perfectly in-tact camera. “Here ya go!”

The boy slowly took the camera from her hands and carefully inspected it. It was nearly pristine!

“Wh-? Hu-? How?!” he stammered, turning the camera over and gasping as he noticed she had even managed to repair some of the damage he had done to it by extended use. “It’s like it’s brand new!”

Domino returned her tools to their home in her bag and slung it over her back. “I try to leave things better than I found ‘em.”

Something about that motto resonated with the male and a grin made its way across his face. His inspection finally shifted from the camera to the peculiar person in front of him and his breath caught in his throat.

The young woman’s eyes were a striking cyan color, as vibrant as an afternoon’s sky. Her long, wild quills were the same teal hue, just a shade darker. She was waif-like for sure, but despite her small stature she had a strong presence about her that told him she could handle herself. The sweet, almost demure smile on her caramel muzzle was in direct contrast with the rough appearance of her clothes and a noticeable tear in one of her ears. This girl had clearly been through a lot. Despite that – or perhaps because of that – he found her stunning.

Domino was also rendered speechless, a rare occurrence for her. The fellow hedgehog looked to be about her age with quills as windswept as hers, though shorter and rich indigo in color. He had a larger frame– or was it the fullness of his fur that made him appear bigger? His coat was longer, scruffy and rugged, particularly in the sand-colored patches that adorned his chest and muzzle. It was so unlike her short, sleek pelt. He wore a pair of denim jeans—another oddity as male Mobians often didn’t wear clothes. And his eyes! So many different shades of green with hints of amber… like sunlight filtering through the canopy leaves onto the forest floor.

She realized she was staring and hoped that the tufts of fur that framed her cheeks would help to mask the blush that quickly made its way up her neck.

“Uh. Still, I’m sorry about breakin’ it in the first place,” Domino muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“No, no need to apologize,” the male assured. His voice had a melodic cadence to it, bouncing around from soothing lows to confident highs. It was unusual but very pleasing to her ears. “If anything, I’m just as much to blame. I was the one standing in the middle of a busy street.”

Like a flip of a switch, Domino suddenly became aware of the dozens of people who were squeezing by and muttering curses at the two teenagers who were blocking their path. How odd, just a moment ago it felt like the two were the only people on the planet.

“Oh yeah…” Domino said slowly, turning her head either way to confirm that they were indeed obstructing the center of the path. “We oughtta get outta the way. Can’t have that camera breaking again!” She turned back to the boy and pushed on his chest, startling him and making him walk backwards until they reached the side of the road. She swiftly weaved and navigated them through the crowd with expertise. It was a wonder she had bumped into him in the first place. The lissome girl likely would have slipped right by him without him ever realizing she was there. Hmm, he didn’t like the thought of that.

“What’s your name?” he asked, those green eyes searching hers.

“Uh,” Domino paused for a moment. People at best ignored her; at worst went out of their way to avoid her. This wasn’t a question she was used to answering. “Domino. And you are?”

“Phlox.”

“‘Flocks’?!” She couldn’t help but blurt out. Sometimes her mouth worked faster than her brain. “Like… like a bunch of Flickies?”

The male’s eyes went wide and he snickered. “Flickies?! No, ‘Phlox’ like the flower!”

“Well hey, I dunno! Maybe your parents are really into bird watching.”

Phlox suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Domino’s ears sprang upwards. That chuckle was so silly and boyish and… mischievous, so unlike his speaking voice. She couldn’t help but beam with playful delight just from hearing it.

“By that logic,” Phlox managed once his laughing settled down, “that would mean your parents love board games?”

Oh now this would be too fun to pass up!

“Ah, so you’re familiar with my lineage!” Domino asked impishly. “I’m the heiress to a very wealthy game manufacturing company. It’s a family-owned business started by my great-great grandparents. It’s basically required that everyone in the family be named after classic games, lest you want to give up your claim to the family biz.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes,” she smirked. “You should’ve seen the look on my grandparents face when my Uncle Chess named his son-”

Her story was interrupted by an embarrassingly loud gurgle coming from her empty stomach. She froze in place, her face instantly growing beet red. Did he hear that? Of course he heard that. The whole world just heard it. Oh Gaia, why?! “Err..”

“I… was just on my way to breakfast,” Phlox said, a lilt in his voice. “I heard some of the locals raving about this restaurant. ‘Supposed to have omelets like you wouldn’t believe. Would you… wanna join me?”

“A... restaurant…?” Domino whispered with dread. Her skin grew even hotter with anxiety. She barely had enough cash on her for some bread. A restaurant was out of the question! She had to think of an excuse but whether it was brain fog from hunger or delirium from this cute guy’s smile, she was coming up with nothing! “Um…”

Phlox sensed the girl’s dilemma and saw her subconsciously rummaging in her pockets. He pretended not to notice and looked towards his next destination.

“I hope you won’t mind-” he leaned his shoulder towards her as if sharing a secret. “I know we live in a modern era but I was raised to always foot the bill when asking a lady on a date.”

“I-I don’t need handouts!” Domino said defensively, hoping her voice overpowered the growling of her stomach.

“Easy there, heiress! I’d never suggest such a thing,” he waved his hands while he laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. Phlox extended an open hand. “Besides, you’ll be repaying me by telling me all about this prestigious gaming monarchy you’re a part of.”

He gave her a wink and with that, she was done for.

Domino took his hand and together the two teens were off to the eatery.

—

“-and that’s why the hippos are eating marbles! Oh! That reminds me. Did you ever wonder-”

Despite her constant rambling, Domino had scarfed down her entire meal with impressive speed. Phlox’s eyes flickered to her empty plate before inconspicuously sliding his untouched side of hash browns across the table. Domino began tearing into them as well, too focused on her current story to realize the plate didn’t belong to her.

Phlox rested his cheek in his palm, smiling as he listened to the teal young woman paint another wild tale. It was immediately clear that these stories were fabricated. Each one was more extreme and nonsensical than the last, but still, the young man found himself hanging on every word. It wasn't so much the stories that he enjoyed, but the enthusiasm with which Domino told them. The way her sky-blue eyes lit up and how her thin little arms swung about wildly as she gestured with her hands, as if her petite body couldn’t contain all of the energy that was trapped inside.

“-so I’m passing through here before I’m off for my next big business venture.”

“Oh? This is a short visit?”

“Ya,” Domino finished up her last bite of hash browns before unceremoniously letting her fork clatter against the ceramic. She was unable to remember the last time she’d ever felt this full. “I never stay in one city long.”

“Why’s that?”

“Towns are… complicated,” she averted her gaze, suddenly interested in a spot of the tablecloth that she began to pick at. “Everything’s all ‘property-lines’ and ‘who-belongs-where’. It’s all about what ya own and how much of it ya got, and what you can take from someone else.” She sank back into her chair with a sigh and looked up at the clouds. Phlox leaned in. Even if momentarily, he was getting a glimpse into the real Domino. He wanted to know more about the girl who felt the need to hide behind tall tales. “It’s not like that out in the wild. Nothing belongs to anybody. It all belongs to the planet, ya know? No judgements. No hurting each other for the sake of hurting… I only come into town when I-”

She stopped herself short, realizing she’d revealed a little too much.

“Wait you’re just passing through too, yeah?”

“Huh?” Phlox blinked. He could get whiplash from how abruptly she’d redirected the conversation. “Oh. Yeah.”

“How long’re you stickin’ around?”

“Hmm, not sure yet.”

Domino laced her fingers together and used them to balance her chin. “You don’t talk much,” she observed with amusement.

Phlox chuckled. “I’m more of a listener.”

“That’s a shame. You’ve got such a nice voice, like music,” she admitted. “I’d love to hear ya talk more.”

It was possible she was just trying to divert his attention from the previous topic, but the compliment made him blush nonetheless. He rubbed the back of his neck and tittered bashfully.

“Well, what would you like me to talk about?”

Domino pointed at the newly repaired camera that sat amongst the empty stacks of plates. “What’s this all about?”

Phlox smiled and rested a caring hand on the device.

“This here’s… my dream. My pride and joy.” He looked up at Domino and she just about wiggled in her seat, excited to hear more. It wasn’t like him to talk much, especially about himself, but if the pretty lady asked… “I spent an entire year putting in extra hours at my steel working job, covering shifts when others called out, never taking time off, all so I could save up for this baby! When I first told my family I wanted to switch careers to become a photographer… Let’s just say they were not so enthusiastic. Especially my dad…” he chuckled ruefully. “He’s not one for… sentimentality. But I always have been.”

Those bright green eyes looked up to meet Domino’s and her heart leaped in her chest when she caught sight of the fervor behind them.

“There’s beauty in everything, you just have to open your eyes to see it! The world is full of so many remarkable things that we take for granted. So many magnificent little moments that will slip right by if we don’t bother to notice them. I want everyone to see what I see. I want to give these wonderful, fleeting seconds the opportunity to live on forever.” Phlox found himself surprised at how boldly he was speaking. It was a nice change, something he had been hoping to improve upon himself. It somehow came naturally in this girl’s presence. “...Photography lets me do that.”

Domino swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt.

“W-wow. I didn’t realize I was talking to an artist this whole time.”

Phlox laughed, that mischievous, boyish chuckle erupting from him again. “Don’t get too excited just yet, Minnie. I’ve still got a long way to go and a lot to learn.”

Minnie? She’d never had a nickname before, never knew anyone long enough to have one. But this guy gave her one so casually, like they’d been friends forever. Minnie. She liked it…

“But I’ll let you in on a secret. Something the pros don’t want you to know.” He suddenly leaned across the table, making Domino’s eyes widen even more. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Sure composition and lighting and all that’s important, but really? A lot of it is being at the right place at the right time.”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms with a smirk. “And I just so happen to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time. A talent, if you will.”

Domino scoffed out the breath she’d been holding. “I’m not so sure about that!” She challenged him with a playful grin. “If that were true, I wouldn’t have busted your camera in the first place!”

Phlox winked and pointed a finger at her. “Ah, but that’s direct proof my gift is the real deal. How else would I have met you?”

The lady hedgehog was once again uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry, too dry! She grasped for her drinking glass and quickly took several long gulps of water. Unsure how to respond and certain her signature teal and caramel fur were now every shade of red, she thought of a question to direct attention from her.

“So,” her voice cracked through feigned nonchalance. “What brings a budding photographer like you to this quaint little town hmm?”

Phlox snickered, pleased that he could make the pretty lady blush just as much as she’d made him. “You might not think much of this place, but I’ve heard it has plenty of little hidden treasures. For one, I’ve been told of this grotto tucked away in the surrounding forest that’s supposed to be spectacular, especially if you catch sight of it at just the right time. I’m going to head out later today and try to find it.”

Domino sat up with excitement. She loved exploring and being out amongst the greenery would likely be a much needed respite after the odd jobs she’d be doing in town. It was only a couple of days, why not make the most of it?

“I’d like to see! Can I come?”

Phlox’s smile grew wider. “Y-yeah, yes!”

“Oh! Speaking of spectacular," there she went again, her mind already on to the next thing. "Have you ever been to South Island?”

“No, but it’s on my list.”

“PHLOX!” Domino drummed her hands on the table with enthusiasm. “You’re gonna love it! Just about every possible type of landscape and flora you can imagine all on one island. It’s crazy! Green Hill was my favorite. Flowers bigger than me— bigger than you! Waterfalls taller than the sky!”

“Hold on.”

Phlox stood up from his seat to pull out a small, weathered notepad from his back pocket. He flipped to a blank page and hurriedly scribbled down notes while murmuring. “South Island… Green… Hill…”

He marked a large star next to the text before standing once again to return the notebook to his pocket. He glanced up and caught the girl giggling at him.

“What?” He asked, the corner of his own mouth turning upwards into a smile.

“I’m sorry, it has to be said…” Domino used a hand to gesture towards Phlox’s legs. “… the pants.”

Phlox smirked and placed his hands on his hips. He pretended to be offended, but mirth was evident in his tone. “I don’t get what’s so funny about my jeans. After all, you’re wearing pants.”

“Yeah but not many men wear ‘em.”

The young man counted on his fingers with each point he made. “They’re stylish. They’re practical. How else can I store my things?”

Domino pointed her thumb towards the pack on her back.

“Nah,” Phlox hooked his thumbs on his belt loops. “Backpack’ll never look this cool.”

“Ooookay, if you say so!” Domino laughed, waving her hands in defeat.

The tolling of bells from the town church broke the two from their lighthearted argument. Domino counted the chimes and realized more time had passed than she originally thought. As much fun as she was having, she had to get back to her priorities. She had a lot of work to do and not much time to do it.

“Well, Mr. Cool Guy,” she dusted the crumbs from her clothes as she rose up from her seat. “Thank you very much for breakfast but I’ve got some very important duties that need attendin’.”

Phlox caught her hand just before she was out of reach. His voice was soft but determined. “I’ll see you later? At the town entrance, at 4. Yes?”

Domino noticed a tangible spark as their fingers met. The feel of her hand in his and the passion in his eyes made her heart race.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

[CHAPTER 2]