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handwrittenhello · 4 years ago

Text

(edit made by the wonderful @ghostinthelibrarywrites!)

Summary:

Yennefer stops, sinking into a crouch so that they’re on eye level. “Jaskier. You have a spell placed on you and I need to break it,” she explains.

“A spell?” Contrary to what any sane person would think when told they’ve been bespelled, Jaskier is wide-eyed and excited, the same look he gets as an adult whenever he senses a good story coming on. “What kind?”

“A dangerous one.” She hates to squash that light in his eyes, but it’s true—she doesn’t know what other side effects it might have. She needs to reverse it sooner rather than later—gods forbid it becomes permanent. “Now will you please come here? I’m a sorceress, and I can help.”

Spell after spell after spell she casts, getting more and more complex as she goes, but none work. “Fuck!” she roars as her latest attempt fails, once again.

“Madame Sorceress?” Jaskier asks, brow creasing, worry creeping in. “Is it—did it work?”

“No,” Yennefer replies, and sighs, because she knows what she has to do. Who better to break a curse, after all, than a witcher?

My entry for quick fic this week! Geraskefer, 3k, featuring deaged jaskier—read it here on ao3 or below!

It happens like this: Geralt so rudely decides he’s better off without the company of his very best friend in the whole wide world, and Jaskier thinks, well, fuck this, and goes to find the nearest tavern.

And then—because the gods love to hate him, it seems—he sets one foot inside, sees raven curls and expensive clothing, and immediately turns around and leaves. He’s had enough rejection for one day, thanks, and he’s not sure his poor, sensitive, bardic heart can handle any more barbed words, be they in unlikely jest or not.

“Where are you going, bard?” Yennefer calls, and every eye in the place turns to him. Shit. Well, he knows how to play a crowd, at least.

“Well, you see, I—I’m due a visit to my, um, my elderly grandmother, she—she needs my help, um, corralling her chickens—”

Or not. Why do his stunning intellect and quick tongue always disappear when she’s around?

Yennefer snorts. “Sure you are, and then I assume there’s a cat on a stove somewhere that you need to go save?”

Were it not for years of barding training every and all sense of embarrassment out of him, he’s sure his face would be aflame by now.

“Come have a drink. You’re better company than anyone else in this shit town,” she grumbles, and it’s then that Jaskier spies the numerous empty wine glasses on the table before her.

Misery loves two things—company and copious amounts of alcohol. And if she’s offering…

“You’re buying. I left my coin pouch with G—well. You’re buying,” he says, but he’s already sliding into the chair across from her and flagging down the barman.

A drink turns into two turns into ten, and shit, he can’t even remember why he ever thought maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Yennefer turns out to be much more tolerable when her inhibitions are lowered by drink, uncharitable though it is to think, but really, she’s so much more open, and her cheeks flush so prettily in the candlelight, and she even laughs—not the mean, bitter laugh she does whenever she’s mocking him (which is frequently), but a small flash of teeth, a breathy thing that turns into full-on cackling as it goes.

“I never knew—is this what Geralt sees in you?” Jaskier muses, running a finger along the rim of his glass. Then he pales, realizing what he's just said, and looks up to see that every trace of amusement in her face is gone.

“Whatever he felt for me, it wasn’t real,” Yennefer says harshly, pushing her chair back so fast that it tips backwards and falls to the floor with an audible THUD. She starts towards the stairs, presumably to her room.

Jaskier winces and follows after her, still a bit unsteady, but sobering up quickly in the wake of his gaffe. “Yennefer, wait—”

She’s too fast, and he only barely manages to stick his foot in the doorway before she can slam the door in his face. “Ouch,” he complains, and knows he’ll be feeling it much worse in the morning.

“Go away,” Yennefer hisses. “Don’t you know when a woman has had enough of your company? Or is that why Geralt had to scream it from a mountaintop, to get rid of you?”

Ouch. He flounders, every possible retort dying on his lips. “That’s not fair,” he almost wants to say, except that hurts even worse, so he says nothing. He does withdraw his foot, though, and she’s quick to slam the door, the lock clicking audibly into place moments later.

He thunks his head against the door. Why does he do this? Every time he thinks that someone might tolerate him, might actually want him around, he sticks his foot in his mouth and fucks it up.

“Fuck me,” he mutters to himself, then gathers the strength to peel himself away from the door. He debates for a moment just sleeping right here in the hallway, curled up in front of her door, rather than facing the mortifying ordeal of begging for a room with no coin to promise. But he's just as likely to get hexed as he is thrown out, and, well, at least if he’s thrown out he can sneak into the stables or something. He shudders to think what sort of nasty spells Yennefer could cast on him if she were to trip over him on her way out in the morning.

He sighs and turns to leave, only to hear the lock click again, followed shortly by the knob turning. The door swings open on its own, and, half fearing for his life, Jaskier peeks inside. Yennefer is sitting at a vanity, taking her makeup off, her back to the door.

Her eyes meet his in the mirror, and he yelps, tripping over himself in his haste to retreat. Yennefer rolls her eyes. “Are you going to come in, or are you going to flail around like an idiot?”

“Are you going to harvest my organs and use them for your magicks?”

“No.” He feels a bit better at that, only for her to immediately follow up with, “Your organs aren’t anywhere near good enough.”

He pouts, but edges inside, the door shutting itself behind him. “My organs are perfectly harvestable,” he argues, and then feels quite ridiculous, and shuts up before she actually does harvest them.

“Gods, this was a mistake,” Yennefer mutters under her breath, finishing with her makeup and pulling back the covers on the bed. “You can have the floor. Don’t touch my stuff.”

He gleefully sets his lute case down to claim a space before she can change her mind. He’s touched, really, that she cares enough to offer him this. “Can I have a pillo—” he starts to ask, sneaking a hand up towards the bed, only to yank it away when she smacks it.

“No. Good night, bard.”

Never mind, he’s not as touched.

He sighs and lies down, curling around his lute case like he does on the road. It’s warm, at least, the heat from the kitchen below rising up to warm the floor beneath him. He falls into a deep sleep, hastened by the alcohol, and stays that way for several hours, before his bladder makes its needs known.

Upon waking to see the moon still high in the sky, he groans, reaching a hand up onto the vanity to pull himself up. His questing fingers brush against a vial—whoops—and in his blind fumbling to catch and right it, he ends up knocking over several more bottles. Fuck.

“Sorry, sorry,” he hisses, when Yennefer stirs in bed. Gods, if he's just spilled something important, she really will hex him.

Something important begins to drip onto his hand. Gods fucking damn it. He tries to scrub it away, only for it to begin tingling and burning, quickly spreading up his arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It’s encompassing his entire body, now, itching and prickling like his skin is too small. “Bard? What are you doing?” Yennefer asks sleepily, sitting bolt upright when she spots the overturned bottle and him scratching frantically as if that will make the sensation go away.

“I didn’t mean to,” he pleads, suddenly very scared, and not just of her. Whatever this enchantment is, it’s spreading fast—will he survive it?

“Is that my fucking anti-aging serum?” Yennefer demands. Jaskier, who has no idea what an anti-aging serum looks like, continues to panic. Even his insides feel weird, guts writhing and bones aching. It’s becoming more and more painful, too, until he can’t stand it anymore, and his vision narrows and darkens and his back hits the floor and then he knows no more.

That fucking idiot. That stupid, fumbling imbecile! Yennefer should have known better, really, should have known that the blundering, blithering bard would immediately find the only potentially dangerous thing in the room and spill it all over himself. Really.

She rolled out of bed, a headache already pounding behind her eyes—partially the wine’s influence, yes, but more at the sight in front of her: Jaskier, no longer a long-limbed adult, instead a small, slight child, swimming in silks.

“For the love of fuck,” she sighs, pinching her brow. Her anti-aging serum—which is meant to be used in small doses, one or two drops at the most—she never knew it would have this kind of effect. And now she has to play babysitter to the most annoying person on the Continent, all because he couldn’t keep his hands to his fucking self.

“Wake up,” she orders, refraining from kicking him like she might if he were an adult. She’s mean, but not mean enough to kick a child.

“Hm?” he hums, eyes blinking open, only to freeze when he sees her towering over him. “You’re not Mama,” he says, voice trembling.

Oh, shit. It’s taken his mind as well. For a brief moment, she dares to hope that perhaps he’ll be less trouble like this.

Then he scrambles to his feet and tries to dive out the window.

“Oh no you don’t, you little shit,” she curses, and sends a small spell to trip him up before he can escape. “Stop that.” He stumbles, little palms meeting the wooden floor when he tries to catch himself. She finishes by flicking a finger and latching the window shut, same with the door. The last thing she needs is a de-aged, runaway bard.

Well, if he were to run away, technically he wouldn’t be her problem anymore…

But that’s too heartless, leaving a child on his own like that—and Yennefer can’t deny that her hardened heart has always held a soft spot for children.

That soft spot grows a little softer when Jaskier scoots back against the wall and bursts into loud, messy tears.

She doesn’t know what to do, really, doesn’t know how to comfort him—she can’t remember when she last comforted anyone. “Stop crying,” she orders instead. “Those tears won’t get you anything.”

Incredibly, it works. Whether it’s the shock of being spoken to so harshly, or they were only crocodile tears, she doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. What matters is that he’s finally stopped, and she can actually try and fix this mess now.

“Where’s my mama?” he demands, glaring at her distrustfully. Good, that’s an instinct that will keep him alive someday. “If you want a ransom, then—then Papa says that he won’t pay. Says I’m too much trouble, so you should—you should really just take me home, or else—or else he’ll come here and he’ll kill you.” He lifts his chin defiantly to punctuate his statement.

Well. That’s a lot to unpack, but she’s going to go ahead and shelve that for now. “I haven’t kidnapped you,” she says irritably, then considers the best way to break it to him.

…There is no best way, so she decides not to.

“Then where am I? And who are you?”

“That’s not important. Now come here,” she says, advancing on him and readying a spell that will hopefully reverse the effects of the serum.

He shakes his head, shrinking back further against the wall. His eyes flick between her and the door, and she’s guessing he’s about to make a run for it.

She stops, sinking into a crouch so that they’re on eye level. “Jaskier. It’s very important that I do this. You have a spell placed on you and I need to break it,” she explains.

He nods, pushing away from the wall and coming to sit in front of her, legs crossed.

“You might feel a tingling, or even a bit of hurt,” she warns, and he nods again, his face creasing in worry and determination.

She’s just about to start when—“Can I hold your hand?” he blurts out. “Mama lets me hold her hand when I—”

She takes his hand before he can launch into some inane explanation. His hand is warm and delicate in hers, no trace of lute callouses to be found. He brightens immediately, gently squeezing their fingers together.

Her eyes, traitors, are getting misty. She angrily clears her throat and begins to cast—the sooner she can reverse this, the better.

Yennefer tries a simple reversal, first. Generic, easy, and evidently not likely to work. No matter. She lets it go and pulls forth another—a spell of speed, to hasten his aging. It fights against her, like drawing a bow, getting more and more difficult as she progresses—she lets that one go, too, lest it snap in her hands like a bowstring rebounding.

Spell after spell after spell, getting more and more complex as she goes, but none work. “Fuck!” she roars as her latest attempt fails, once again.

“Madame Sorceress?” Jaskier asks, brow creasing, worry creeping in. “Is it—did it work?”

“No,” Yennefer replies, and sighs, because she knows what she has to do. Who better to break a curse, after all, than a witcher?

“You’re shitting me,” is the first thing Geralt says after Yennefer explains the situation.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Yennefer yells, while Jaskier cringes behind her skirts. Despite his excitement at getting to meet a real life witcher, the actual experience has since proven to be a bit much for him. “I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice, believe me,” she bites out, and Geralt winces, but wisely chooses not to comment.

“De-aged, then?” Geralt asks, sinking down onto his heels. “You can call me Geralt,” he says, and Jaskier peeks out at him.

“Julian,” Jaskier answers, and Yennefer remembers him introducing himself as such to the dwarves. “You’re a witcher?”

“I am,” Geralt nods. “I’m here to help. Did Yennefer explain what’s going on?”

“She said I had a spell on me. But I don’t feel spelled.”

“Mhmm. They can be tricky like that,” Geralt offers.

“Can we get on with it?” Yennefer asks. “This is all very nice, but we still don’t know what the side effects may be.”

“Fine,” Geralt says, standing up and holding out a hand to Jaskier. “Julian, why don’t you come meet my horse.” Jaskier lights up, latching onto Geralt immediately. Yennefer tries not to mourn the loss—why would she? She’s glad to be rid of the annoying little shit, she tells herself.

Geralt gets him situated with Roach, petting gently over her neck and mane, before returning to Yennefer. “I’ve only ever heard of this happening once before,” he begins. “Woman walked into the woods on An Skellig, came out a little girl.”

“And what happened to her?”

“Locals were stumped, until they remembered the old songs. Tír na nÓg.”

Yennefer scoffs. “Skellige fairy tales? That’s all you’ve got?”

“It’s not just a tale. They took her to the bridge during fog season, let her walk across, and she returned three days later all grown up, and no memory of it.”

Yennefer closes her eyes. It’s the only lead they’ve got, and they both know it. “Skellige it is, then. I can’t portal us all and Roach there, though.”

“Good. I hate portals. We’ll head to Novigrad, catch a merchant ship.”

Setting out on the road together is surprisingly easy. Though the fiery passion between them has simmered down, Yennefer still finds she enjoys Geralt’s company, when she forgets to be angry at him. It helps to have Jaskier there as a buffer, oddly enough—Geralt seems to sense her moods keenly, and often makes himself scarce, taking Jaskier with him to identify herbs as they walk, or carrying him on his shoulders as Jaskier tries to reach the lowest branches of the fruit trees they pass.

And sometimes she finds herself alone with Jaskier when Geralt is off hunting, or tending to Roach, or doing whatever the fuck it is he does when he’s alone. He proves to be, if not a scintillating conversational partner, very eager to learn, especially when she explains magical theories to him.

“When I grow up, I want to be a sorceress!” he proclaims one night, and she can’t help but smile.

“What about a witcher? Last I recall, you wanted to be a witcher yesterday,” she teases.

“I can do both!” Jaskier insists. “A witcher-sorceress. They’ll write songs about me!”

He never really has changed, has he?

The journey to An Skellig is largely uneventful—there’s one exciting moment, when they spot a blue whale off the bow of the ship, but other than that, it’s a monotony of rolling waves and bouts of seasickness for Jaskier.

They’re all glad to set foot on dry land when they finally do. They’re so close that Yennefer can taste it—though she can’t deny that young Julian has grown on her, and she’ll almost be sad to see him gone.

She swallows her feeling and continues on, trekking through the woods as Geralt leads them to the bridge to Tír na nÓg. The temperature drops as they go, until Jaskier is shivering atop Roach. Yennefer conjures a cloak for him with hardly a thought, and he throws a grateful smile at her.

They keep on, the forest growing darker, and just when she’s about to demand that they stop for the night and continue on tomorrow, the trees before them break, revealing a breathtaking view.

An arched bridge spans a perfectly placid lake ringed by trees, a fine mist overlaying the whole scene. This must be it—the bridge to Tír na nÓg, the land of youth.

Geralt has instructed Jaskier on what to do over the course of their journey, of course—for neither of them can accompany him. He has to face this trial alone. “Are you ready?” Geralt asks, helping Jaskier down from Roach. Jaskier nods, little face screwed in determination.

Anxiety flutters at Yennefer’s throat as she watches him cross the bridge, and she’s about ready to call it off, but Geralt holds her back. “Let him go,” he says quietly.

Jaskier disappears into the mist, and they begin their wait.

It turns out to be not very long at all. The sun is just only beginning to rise when Geralt rouses from his meditation, waking Yennefer as well. He looks out across the bridge, witcher senses focused on something Yennefer can’t.

And then Jaskier appears, back to his normal, adult self, grinning brightly. “Geralt! Yennefer!” he shouts, and breaks into a run. Geralt catches him as he leaps, drawing the witcher into a tight hug. It only lasts a few seconds, and then Jaskier is turning to Yennefer and pulling her into a hug as well. She stiffens, but doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you both for taking care of me. I know I couldn’t have been the easiest child,” he says wryly.

“You were fine,” Geralt says, at the same time Yennefer replies, “I don’t know, you might have been preferable as a child.”

“Rude,” Jaskier pouts, but he’s still hugging her.

There’s still so much they need to talk about—that damned mountain, for one—but right now, it doesn’t feel nearly so important. It’s enough to have this moment of peace, the three of them all reunited and as they should be.

#the witcher #geraskefer #geraskier #yenskier #yenralt #jaskier #yennefer #geralt #witcher fanfiction #mine

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hayleysstark · 4 years ago

Note

For your prompt event: Merlin accidentally hurting Arthur with his magic post-reveal and freaking out about it? (I love your writing!)

oh my god op YOUR MIND!!!!!!!!! im losign it,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Arthur had all of ten seconds to get out of range and, as it turned out, ten seconds wasn't nearly enough.

To tell the truth, he knew it was all his own fault—he hadn't tried or, at least, he hadn't tried hard enough, mostly because he didn't want to get out of range, he didn't want to run away, and he certainly didn't want to leave Merlin behind to face the mad old witch entirely on his own. For all his magic, for all his power and know-how and strange, old-soul wisdom, Merlin was a right idiot most of the time and, while Arthur trusted him to take down an obviously mediocre, middle-of-the-road sorceress alone, he most definitely did not trust him to be smart about it. He didn't trust Merlin to be smart about most things, come to that, but magical battles with evil sorcerers was settled firmly at the top of the list.

But it didn't do an ounce of good, because Arthur couldn't get near enough to land a blow on the old woman, and he couldn't even get near enough to watch Merlin's back like he should, like he usually did in these sorts of situations—the spells flew far too thick and fast around the quiet green grove, blinding bursts of color and light flashing like suns and stars in the deep shadows of the wood, curses rebounding like stray cannonballs off the trees and boulders and branches—no, he could only stand there, sword in his hand, out on the edge of the battle, completely useless.

All of a sudden, the old witch stopped, her wrinkled hands still held out in front of her, and she said something—it didn't sound like magic, it didn't sound like a spell, and it didn't look much like magic, either, it looked like she was talking to Merlin, like she was talking and she wanted him to talk back, but Arthur couldn't hear the words over the whispers and rustles of all the sorcery in the grove—and it must have been magic, he realized, hardly half a second later, because a high, howling wind whipped up, right in the middle of the forest, on a cloudless, sunny day.

She must be a bit better than mediocre, then, she must be a bit more than middle-of-the-road, if she could call up storms like Merlin could—

The wind picked up, stronger and stronger until the shriek of it was all Arthur could hear, until the force of it nearly ripped his cloak from his shoulders and clawed the sword from his hand, until it pushed him back, farther and farther away from the old witch, away from Merlin, until it finally grabbed him up in its screaming grip and slammed him, with a nasty crunch, back into the nearest tree.

As near as Arthur could figure out, from the flashes of blue sky rushing past over his head and the fleeting glimpses of Merlin's bone-white face and terrified blue eyes, he had come back 'round on the way back to the castle, but he hadn't stayed awake long enough to remember much, and Merlin had, apparently, defeated the old woman mere moments after Arthur had blacked out, but he never heard the whole of it, and Merlin never told him.

All he could say for certain was, when he had finally opened his eyes to find himself in Gaius' chambers, in the rickety white cot reserved solely for the very ill, the old man had forced him to choke down a vast number of horrible potions and medicines before he had allowed Arthur to settle back in his own bedchamber.

It had seemed an awful lot of fuss for nothing but a broken arm and a few bruised ribs, and, if he had to make a guess, he would say the whole thing had upset Merlin rather more than he had thought it would, and certainly a great deal more than it had any right to—the idiot had turned into the perfect servant in the week since, nothing but yes Sire or no Sire or let me get that for you, Sire, not one gripe or grumble or complaint to be had, and never more than ten steps from Arthur's bedside.

And he didn't make a face when Arthur told him to muck the stables, and he didn't breeze in to work a half hour too late Arthur's breakfast in one hand and a sheepish smile on his face, and he didn't throw the curtains wide and shout good morning like he wanted to wake the entire castle, and he hadn't spilled wine in Arthur's lap even once, and he hadn't used his magic to heat the bathwater, or scrub the floor, or make the bed, and Arthur's armor had literally never shined brighter, a dazzling silver gleam out of the corner of his eye, glinting and flashing in the light of the sun through the open window.

It was absolutely unbearable.

And it was obviously much more than the usual mother-hen impulses Merlin fell into when Arthur got hurt, because he certainly hadn't acted like this even when Arthur had gotten a bite from the Questing Beast, when Arthur had, very literally, cheated death, and survived the unsurvivable!

No, this was bigger than all Merlin's girlish little fits and frenzies of fear, this was more than his everyday panic over nothing, and Arthur was not going to put up with it one moment longer.

"All right," he said, eight days out from that fight in the forest with the old witch, his arm still wrapped firmly in a simple white sling, and the bruising on his ribs a touch lighter now, and certainly less painful, "out with it, Merlin, what is it? What's gotten into you lately?"

"Sorry?" Merlin said, flatly, and he didn't even look up from where he had crouched down to pick up all the dirty laundry scattered 'round the chamber. "Not sure what you mean."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin, you and I both know that suits you a bit too well."

"Yeah," Merlin said blandly, stuffing Arthur's brown trousers in his basket, "just one of my many gifts, Sire."

"Merlin," Arthur sat up a little in his seat, and put down his quill with a soft swish of the long white feather on parchment, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," Merlin said at once. He tossed a pair of socks in the basket, too. "It's nothing."

Arthur waited.

Merlin straightened up and turned his back on Arthur to pluck a red tunic up off the floor and plop it down in the basket with everything else.

Arthur waited a bit more.

All of a sudden, Merlin stopped, with the basket perched on the end of the bed, his hands still clinging to the wooden rim, and finally, Arthur thought, with a rush of relief, finally, he's going to stop being such a girl and just tell me—

Merlin sniffled.

Arthur's insides turned to ice. Oh, God, no, this was a mistake, this was a terrible, awful, horrendous mistake, and now Merlin was having feelings, and what if Merlin wanted to talk about those feelings, couldn't he just give Merlin the day off and let him sort it out on his own time, wasn't that a thing he could do, or would that be "insensitive" and "rude" the way Guinevere always told him, would that make him a "bad friend" the way Guinevere always told him—? "Um," he said, a little blankly, and a lot desperately, "y-you don't need to—you shouldn't—erm—"

"I—" Merlin wiped at his face with the back of his hand, and turned to look at Arthur, his eyes red and puffy, his cheeks sticky and stained with tears, "—I-I'm sorry."

"For crying?" Arthur said, rather weakly, and also rather hopefully.

"I should have said it sooner, but I thought you were going to—to bring it up, and I thought you were going to be angry, so I-I just waited and waited, but you didn't—"

Not for crying, then, Arthur concluded dismally, before he scraped up the last remnants of his dwindling-in-the-face-of-a-crying-Merlin courage. "Why on earth did you think I'd be angry with you?"

"I did this to you," Merlin said, looking for all the world like a deeply repentant puppy left out in the pouring rain, waiting to be kicked. "I hurt you. I-I used my magic to h-hurt you."

What? Arthur blinked a bit dazedly at Merlin while he waited for the words to make some sort of sense. "Hang on," he said, slowly, mostly to make sure he had this absolutely right, "you were the one who called up that wind? You were the one who—?"

Merlin blinked back, just as dazedly. "Y-You didn't know?"

"I thought it was the witch!" Arthur said, thoroughly baffled now. "What in God's name did you do that for? You never do storms unless it's—!"

"I got angry," Merlin said miserably. He sniffled again and wiped at his nose now. "I—I got so angry, she—she said some things that made me realize she was—she was somebody that had done really awful things, she had—she had hurt someone I know, she'd hurt her really badly, and I lost my temper, and—" he flicked a mournful glance up at Arthur from under his wet lashes, "—and it just happened, and Arthur, I'm so sorry!"

Arthur almost crumpled right back down in his seat again. Merlin had conjured up that wind, not the old witch, and oh, that made sense now, didn't it, he had thought, even then, the old woman hadn't seemed strong enough for magic like that, he had thought she hadn't had the power for a thing like that, and he had been right, and—

—and if she was so mediocre and middle-of-the-road, what on earth had she done in her past, to make Merlin so furious with her? "Is she—?" Arthur raised his head to look at his friend on the other side of the room. "Is she all right? The friend that the witch hurt? Is she all right now?"

Merlin stared blankly back at him, blue eyes wide and wet. "That's—?" he scrubbed at his nose again. "That's what you're worried about? Not the fact that I almost killed you?"

Arthur almost laughed. "It's a broken arm, Merlin, and it's not even my sword arm! Honestly, I hardly think I'm going to drop dead all because—"

"It's not funny," Merlin snapped, his every word sharp as a knife when it rolled off his tongue. "It's not funny, Arthur, this isn't a joke! I almost killed you! I almost killed you because I lost my temper! Because I lost control!"

"Yes," Arthur conceded, "but everyone loses their temper at some point, I wouldn't worry about it if I were—"

"Well, you're not me!" Merlin bit out. "And count yourself lucky on that, because when you lose your temper, you don't have to worry that you'll wipe out the entire kingdom, or—or level a whole forest, or put all your friends in danger just because you can't—!"

"M-Merlin," Arthur said, too startled to stay silent any longer, "of course you're not going to—"

"You don't know that!"

"No, I don't know that!" Arthur said sharply, a bitter burn of fury in the back of his throat, because what the hell was wrong with this idiot, why the hell couldn't he see—? "You're right, Merlin, I don't know that, I don't know for absolutely certain that you are never going to do something horrible, but I trust that you won't! I don't know, I can't tell the future, I'm not a Seer, but I trust you to do what's right and to never take it too far, and isn't that enough for you?"

For a moment that felt very much like forever, Merlin only looked at Arthur, his eyes still red, a few stray tears still trailing lazily down his wet cheeks. "But look at what I did to you," he whispered. "You can't honestly tell me you're not angry with me."

Arthur let out a soft, heavy sigh, and rubbed a hand down the side of his face. Yeah, sure, he was a bit put out, but mostly he was put out that he had gotten stuck in bed for three days straight, and that Merlin had decided to hedge around the problem for so long when he could have come to Arthur and told the truth straight-out, but it was like he had said to Merlin—everybody lost their temper now and then, it was hardly some sort of bone-deep sin Merlin had to atone for every day for the rest of his life.

"You can't honestly tell me," Merlin said, and even softer than a whisper now, softer than a breath, "that you're not scared of me."

Oh. Arthur's chest squeezed with something almost like pity. Oh, that's what this is, that's what he thinks, that's what he's so worried about— "Merlin," he said, and he meant it, "I'm not scared of you. There's nothing in you to be afraid of."

"Except the magic that could have broken your neck," Merlin snapped, voice high and tight and still thick with tears. "You don't have to pretend, Arthur, you don't have to put on some kind of front for me, I understand, I get it—"

"You can't swing a sword without almost impaling yourself on the blade," Arthur pointed out. "You can't go an entire day without tripping over your own boots and falling flat on your face. There's nothing in you to be afraid of, and trust me, I'm not flattering you when I say that."

Merlin stared at Arthur like he had never seen him before, his eyes enormous in his tear-streaked face, one hand halfway up to dry the damp trails on his cheeks again. "Y-You're not—?"

"For God's sake, no!" Arthur rolled his eyes. "One time, I heard you say sorry to a butterfly!"

"I startled her," Merlin said, at once, and scrubbed at his eyes again. "I hit the branch she was resting on with my elbow, and I startled her."

Arthur had to bite back a smile. "Yes, I'm absolutely terrified. Shaking in my boots, Merlin, please don't kill me with your evil temper and big bad sorcerer powers."

Merlin turned a little pink. "I'm sorry," he said, hoarsely. "I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, I picked up on that, believe it or not."

Merlin went a touch pinker, but he pushed on valiantly. "I-I didn't realize you were near enough to get hurt. I should have been more careful with you."

"Careful with me?" Arthur echoed incredulously, half-offended and half-amused. "Tell me, Merlin, how is it that I'm the one who got thrown into a tree, you're the one crying about it, and you still manage to make me sound like the delicate maiden in this situation?"

Merlin wiped at his nose again. "Should have known you'd be all right," he said, finally, and unless Arthur was very much mistaken, he could swear he saw a small smile tug at the edge of the idiot's lip. "Should have figured your thick skull would cushion the blow."

"Merlin—!"

#merlin #bbc merlin #fic #filled prompt #sweetteaanddragons #this is uh. bad. but on god we're posting it lads

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crowned-ladybug · 5 years ago

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So I said I wanted to see demon AUs that aren’t smut and that I sadly don’t have the energy to make my own rn, and then I went ahead and accidentally made one anyway

So here’s some incomplete notes on it. It’s 2.7k words. I’m so sorry.

Local dumbass heir to the throne (Joseph) doesn’t Wanna be a heir to the throne bc it’s Boring he’s always wanted to be an Adventurer but here he is anyway. Then one night he gets drunk off his ass and manages to?? accidentally summon a demon??? in his friend’s Magic Lab???

(The friend is Avdol and he’s v v tired of Joseph’s shit)

fuckin Joseph made a drunk deal with a demon who Absolutely saw nothing against making a deal with the royal heir currently drunk off his ass bc hey, free deal

luckily the deal wasn’t for Joseph’s soul or firstborn child or half his kingdom or whatever. Instead the deal is a magical bond between Joseph and the demon that allows the demon to share in Joseph’s life energy/general basic human magic and thus be able to exist in the human world in a stable form without having to go home to rest every once in a while or having to maintain like ten spells Just In Case

the demon is doing this whole deal thing bc 1) he Has to, it’s kind of his Job and 2) he’s looking for vengance on a gang of demon hunters who have killed his family but since they’re human, he needs a way into the human world for a longer term to be able to hunt them down

the demon is Caesar in case you haven’t figured that out yet

Joseph is a lot less concerned about having made a deal with a Literal Demon than he should be. He thinks it’s p hilarious actually and Caesar immediately starts having regrets (he’d bond with Avdol over it if he were willing to lower himself to the level of Measly Mortals)

the fun thing is that bc he’s tied to Joseph magically to allow him to freely exist in the human world, Caesar can’t get out of a few mile radius of him, which kinda makes his plans to hunt down the demon hunters (*cough* Pillar Men *cough*) a lot harder and Joseph even more annoying to deal with

the logical solution to that is to pass Caesar off as a servant Joseph befriends, so that he can stay in the castle, and then eventually they can go off on some adventure together to defeat the Pillar Men (or, well, so that Caesar can defeat the Pillar Men while keeping Joseph at arm’s length) which would also mean that Joseph can Finally get his big adventure he’s been dreaming about

then Joseph gets the genius idea to kill even More birds with one stone and decides that Caesar should pretend to be his bf bc all the annoying ass nobles and shit won’t leave him alone about not having a partner and “oh no, you’re of age now, what will happen if you have to take the throne but have no queen by your side?” and everyone keeps trying to woo him and it was fun at first but now it’s just goddamn Tiring

Caesar agrees to it eventually bc Anything as long as Joseph lets him do his research on the Pillar Men in peace. He doesn’t really realise what fake-dating the annoying bastard entails until he’s already too deep into it and he kinda literally can’t go back on his promises to Joseph, being a contract-bound demon

(Caesar looks like a proper demon normally but he Can disguise himself as p much entirely human-looking if he needs to. It takes energy tho, so he reverts back to his demonic looks whenever he’s safe from prying eyes, or if he’s unconscious)

they’re essentially fake-married for magic tax benefits it’s so great

there’s Definitely some Magic Soulbond Shenanigans along the line of “if one gets hurt the other also feels it”

they find out that Caesar reverts to his demonic form when asleep when he pulls two all-nighters in a row looking for information on the Pillar Men and passes out in Avdol’s study, scaring the shit out of poor Avdol. After that they manage to land a room for him in the castle with some lie about him having travelled here from faraway lands (technically true) and having nowhere else to stay (also technically true), but he also spends a lot of his time in Avdol’s study and Joseph’s room without his disguise, solely for convenience’s sake

they ofc have to fool Everyone with the fake dating, including Joseph’s family, bc No One else can know that Caesar is a demon on a quest for vengeance. The worst, most unexpected part for Caesar is that Queen Erina and Lord Speedwagon actually seem to like him?? they’re just genuinely nice to him??? simply bc he’s around Joseph and bc they find him likeable??? he did Not expect Anyone to be nice to him in the human world, what the Fuck, he doesn’t know how to Deal With That

Suzi is Technically a servant but she’s been Joseph’s friend since they were lil kids so she was essentially raised alongside him and they’re best friends and Suzi can only keep Joseph out of dumb shit like half the time bc the other half she’s right there in it with him

she is Entirely unfazed by Caesar, sees through the pretend relationship in like two minutes and knows immeditely that Something Is Up. When she accidentally catches Caesar in his demon form while checking to make sure he’s not stacking all-nighters again, she doesn’t even bat an eye (meanwhile Caesar’s thoughts are entirely “oh fuck do I have to kill her now, Joseph’s gonna kill me if I do, oh fuck, oh fuck”) just tells him to go to sleep on time and then leaves (to call Joseph out on getting himself into even deeper shit than she’d originally thought)

look idk what he does or what relevance he ends up having to the plot but Polnareff is also there, he’s a dumbass knight who’s the reason Joseph knows how to Not fight properly (bc Polnareff has a shitton of dumb tricks and Joseph knows all of them) and has a giant crush on Avdol

god there’s just. A Shitton of dumb shenanigans during their time in the castle, both with the fake-dating (like having to teach Caesar proper royal etiquette and him getting Very confused and flustered when Joseph casually flirts with him) and with hiding Caesar being a demon (they have so many stupid close calls and make so many dumb decisions they Really Shouldn’t, it’s great)

when the time comes to go and find and kill the Pillar Men, it’s only Caesar and Joseph going bc Caesar doesn’t want any more ppl in this mission than absolutely necessary, totally not bc they’re his friends and he worries about them or anything

they get some tips on where to look and how to get there from this weird adventurer dude who passes through the castle on his travels every once in a while. Joseph’s only met him in passing but he thinks he seems fun and has his own dumbass theory that he’s totally some runaway royalty or something. Instead turns out that the dude is half demon and actually related to Caesar and Caesar, being an orphan and all, had thought finding a remaining member of his family would be Way more thrilling but no this dude is just as weird and annoying as Joseph so he’d like a refund pls

(the dude’s Gyro. Ofc it’s fuckin Gyro. Johnny’s there too somewhere I just haven’t figured that out yet. He might actually be the top horse trainer/caretaker/whatever of the castle and the True reason Gyro travels this way every time is bc he’s smitten as hell)

while Gyro gives them some advice he also tells them that hey. Maybe you shouldn’t do this?? esp not just the two of you??? Considering the Pillar Men are known to be ruthless and Very good at killing demons

ofc these idiots Don’t Listen and go after them together anyway

the plan technically is that Joseph stays a safe distance away while Caesar goes and fights the Pillar Men and Totally wins but like. ofc he doesn’t listen and refuses to stay on his ass and let Caesar leave so they go in together anyway

they manage to find Santana alone and Actually Kill Him but it’s a close one, much tougher than anticipated bc as I said before, these dudes are Really Good at killing demons and also just killing in general. It’s also when Caesar realises the full scope of the “if one gets hurt, the other also feels it” part of his bond with Joseph bc Joseph gets hurt worse during the battle and Caesar is so shocked by his own reaction to it that he’s frozen for a moment and it almost costs him his life

that night when they’re camping out after the battle, Joseph reveals that a long while ago he figured out how to break their magic bond without it hurting either of them or sending Caesar right back to his own world. it’s some old spell he found in one of Avdol’s books or something, idk, and at first he’d kept it hidden from Everyone bc he was starting to really like Caesar but knew that Caesar was only around him out of necessity (not true actually but Caesar hid and denied his growing fondness for v v long) and he didn’t want him to leave the moment he realised he Could, even if it was v v selfish of him and he feels like shit about it now. And then later on when it turned out that they’re gonna see this quest through together anyway, he figured it didn’t matter anymore and so he kinda just forgot about it

but he’s remembered it again before they left and packed what he needs for it as a grim Just In Case (and it may or may not be a weird red gem bc yknow, but idk yet) and now he offers to break the bond already bc of how him getting hurt almost got Caesar killed. But Caesar tells him not to, bc it doesn’t matter now and a spell like that would probably take a lot of energy out of both of them when they need everything they’ve got for the upcoming battles

in reality he doesn’t want the bond broken bc it makes him feel like he’s got a right and a reason to stay, without having to fully face just how much he cares about Joseph, and bc it makes sure that Joseph is never far from him and lets him know if he’s hurt and maybe like this he can somehow protect him from getting hurt again

spoiler alert: he can’t

the fight with the other three Pillar Men doesn’t go their way at all. I mean it’s 3 vs 2 and the 3 are Very Good at killing so it should be Expected, but they’re young and dumb and Caesar is stubborn and still thirsting for revenge and if Joseph can’t hold him back then at least he can stay with him

they both get badly hurt and when it looks like it’s just it for both of them, Joseph brings out that spell again and breaks their bond before Caesar could tell him to stop and tells Caesar to run, to get away and don’t even fucking look back, just Go. When Caesar tries to object, Joseph tells him that he’s not dying just so Caesar can get himself killed too and Caesar is too scared to do anything but listen and run as Joseph leaves himself no escape and takes another two of the Pillar Men down with him before Caesar could figure out a way to save him

Joseph survives, Somehow, minus a hand anyway. He wakes up again in his own room in the castle and he has No Idea how he got back or who even found him and his best guess is that Gyro and Johnny have followed them and lbr Avdol’s magic has probably had a part to play in it too

and Caesar is just. Gone. Separated from Joseph and already weak from the fight, he didn’t have enough magic left to remain in the human world for long and thus got pulled back into his own world, and being just a normal demon, he can’t even cross back over without being summoned. But Joseph doesn’t know any of that, he just knows that Caesar is Gone and he strongly doubts he’s coming back bc he hasn’t already and he’s p damn heartbroken about it

meanwhile Caesar isn’t having much better of a time in his own world either. Bc nothing went well, Nothing, but he realises that he doesn’t even care about his revenge plan anymore, he doesn’t care about hunting Kars down and avenging his family. But he’s just lost the only family he’s had Again, the ppl in the castle this time, and he’s stuck here without any way back unless someone accidentally summons him again, and for what he knows Joseph had died to save him and Caesar didn’t even get to say goodbye or bury him

this v shitty state lasts until Joseph’s desperation + a lil nudge from Avdol and Suzi gets him to try summoning Caesar again (bc Joseph decides that if he gets no response at all, if the spell fails, it means Caesar’s really just Gone and he hadn’t made it out alive after all, but having definite knowledge of that will still be better than just Not Knowing and hoping for the rest of his life)

Avdol lets him take his study all to himself and so Joseph settles in during the afternoon and gets to finding the spell which is Not Easy bc he’d been drunk off his ass when he’d first found and performed it. He’s starting to lose hope and think that maybe the spell doesn’t even Exist in Avdol’s books, he’d just butchered a completely different spell and that’s how he got to Caesar, when he Finally finds it, and it’s almost midnight at that point and he’s Exhausted and Scared and Sad and he just Wants This To Work

the spell asks for an offering for the demon’s services, and the first time around Joseph had said something like “idk name your price” which is how Caesar had got the bond he needed (tho Joseph doesn’t actually remember this)

this time he just says “anything” which is a p dumb thing to offer when making a deal with a Literal Demon but he doesn’t care, this is Caesar, he trusts him and he loves him and he’d damn right give anything to just know that he’s okay and maybe get to see him again

and the spell Works it fuckin Works even if it takes a moment and there’s a flash of light and then suddenly there’s Caesar, sitting on the ground in Avdol’s study in all his demonic glory, blinking as his eyes adjust to the dim light and until he sees Joseph sitting on the ground in front of him, crying. And from then on it’s just a big “i thought I lost you” reunion moment that’s so happy it Hurts. They stay sitting on the floor for Hours despite it being late at night, just pressed together and talking about anything and just enjoying each others presence bc they’ve missed each other and thought they’d never see each other again

the next morning Avdol finds them sitting against the wall in a pile and fast asleep and decides to take the day off and goes to find Suzi and Polnareff to tell them the news

idk where the rest of the plot goes yet bc Kars is still out there and Erina and Speedwagon still don’t know about the whole demon thing but have this for now

#jjba #caejose #joseph joestar #caesar zeppeli #mohammad avdol #suzi quatro #polnareff and the pillar men are also there but not enough to ba tagged sorry #also gyro and johnny yeah them too #I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS IS IT JUST HAPPENED #my mind went ''heir of dumbass Joseph accidentally summons a demon but it's mostly just fake-dating'' and then this happened??#ill add a tag for this au once i figure one out bc i guess now i need that too huh #goddamnit #demon au

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hoopdiddies · 5 years ago

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I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 10)

A/N: I am so sorry that I have not been on for a full week. The phone I had used to edit this in broke and I had to buy a new one plus this is the last chapter and apparently the longest, regardless of my recent claims of the previous ones being the longest lmao. I hope this won't disappoint, I couldn't think of a more consistent flow due to the days I've been without my phone to type some ideas in. I hope you guys will enjoy this last part anyway, and thank you so much for supporting this entire series! I have a new series in mind but it's a WIP. Thanks again for all the love! IMPORTANT NOTE: I WILL BE CUTTING A PART IN THIS CHAPTER AND PUTTING IT UNDER A PART 10.1 IMMEDIATELY AFTER I POST THIS FOR THE SAKE OF THE LIMIT. TAGS WILL BE MENTIONED IN THE COMMENTS

Summary for this part: A wedding brought you apart and it will be a wedding that will bring you back together.

Warnings: A good balance of fluff and angst, mention of injuries and alcohol and some long ass writing.

WC: A whopping 10k

Parts: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

You are painfully a feet away from the door and yet here you are, frozen after having turned 180 degrees only to stumble upon those eyes you had hoped to gaze into again. One swallow from you and you begin gliding along the tiled surface towards him, checking through every pad whether or not he's really awake.

After stopping at his side, you are now certain you're not anywhere close to dreaming. "Ben?" His name leaving your lips like an answered prayer. He's staring back at you with his left eye half-open – taking into account his current sensitivity to light– but with the same energy he exudes everytime you're together.

His chapped lips curl into a smile so slow yet so sweet at the same time; almost an upgrade to his classic 'Benny beam' which you had fun dubbing back in the days. "Y/N..."

And once again, you disrupt the orderly function of your tears and let them gush down, quickly but carefully wrapping your arms around him in bittersweet joy, exclaiming his name thrice into his hospital gown. "You...you bloody idiot! I thought you'd never wake up..."

Having just woken up from a coma, his voice comes out extra breathy and brittle but full of life, chuckling at how you're greeting him back into the conscious world. "Is that...is that how you welcome your best mate back?"

You shake your head ardently, sniffling against his chest and taking in the scent of mint. "Shut up. You frightened us!"

He really wakes up seconds before the clock strikes 'it's too late'. The convenience is hardly believable.

"I'm gonna call the doctor and tell him you're up." You act swiftly on your feet but a grip as strong as you least expected it to be hinders you from taking a step away and you turn around at Ben who's woven his fingers around yours. You give him a concerned yet quizzical look for it.

He sighs deeply, closing his logy eyes for a brief moment before opening them to you– gazing up at you meaningfully as he draws you close with the little, physical strength he has left. "You frightened me, rather."

"What... are you talking about?"

You won't admit it now but the way his fingers are currently snaked around yours could make your heart palpitate any second now.

His green eyes bore into yours effectively, suddenly invalidating your surroundings and making it seem like it's just you and him on the face of the entire planet.

He struggles to swallow before repeating. "You frightened me. You're still leaving..."

His voice crack as he said 'leaving' obliterates the fragments of what was once your soul, punching a gaping hole as a replacement. How is he able to remember your emotional outburst at the after party when he has just woken up and should at least forget a few details?

But then you realize you've been talking to him a lot as he was out of order.

You nod unfortunately, laying your hand on his which is still fondling your other one. His skin has warmed up a notch and that's a progress. You need to clarify this to him again since the last time you did, you both ended up in disarray and in the middle of the road.

"I...I've already told you everything."

"I don't wanna- I don't wanna lose you."

"Ben..." You cut off as your hopeless gazes meet like lightning, his irises darkening at the manner in which your eyes have transfixed on his.

"Please..."

Worried that his stable condition might shift due to the rising agitation he's showing, you sit beside him and bring his knuckles up to your lips, hearing the beeping of the heart monitor quicken which sounds incredibly alarming, an indication that his heart rate has elevated due to his induced stress.

You press your lips into his pale knuckles with your eyes thoroughly shut hoping to soothe him through it, tears trickling from your cheeks and onto the back of his hand as you choke on your words. "Ben...come on. You know I can't stay, you have to understand that."

He slowly shakes his head, biting his bottom lip as he grimaces at the bitterness, softly but agonizingly begging for you to reconsider. "You have to. Please, love. I need you to. I want you to."

Do the short term effects include stubbornness? Cause he's really determined to get you to stay no matter what. Joe must be tortured with waiting by now and at any given moment, he's bound to consider barging in.

You kind of hope he would. God, you should be out there notifying his attending physician about his regained consciousness and for goodness sake, Rosy ought to be here for this. She can't just wander out whenever she likes when her fiance's an injured man struggling to recover.

While keeping his trembling knuckles close to your lips, you move closer and question him, your voice downsizing to an unsteady whisper. "Why? Ben, I'm leaving primarily to pursue a career. Not just because of some heartbreak, this is a dream come true. I'm finally a stair close to reaching it. Why aren't you at least happy for me?"

"I am..."

"Then you have to let me go."

"It's not that easy..."

"Do you think it's any more easier for me? No! But this is what must be and you have to trust me on this," it's as if your heart is in your mouth from feeling so harrowed by all of this, but you have to make him see that this is the only way and that it is also important that you leave, "I'm sorry if I said some things that night that weren't exactly the way I felt. But I have to leave. You're getting married to Rosy soon, you know. Don't worry about me..."

He wishes he could just sit up with ease and cage you in his arms but all his incapacities at the moment are inhibiting him from doing so. Knowing he can't do anything about it emotionally deflates him.

He withdraws his hand a little and presses it to your flushed cheek, kneading your delicate skin as he shakes his head gently to prevent the dressing around his head from becoming less taut.

"I think I know well enough who I want to marry now..."

You can't distinguish what present beating has accelerated; the heart monitor's, your own heart, or at best both. But you're sure as hell his words weren't a product of your own imagination, your eyes drifting from one of his orbs to the other in a daze, looking for any sign that would prove that it's not you he's directed it at but it does otherwise.

"What are you saying?"

The skin of the front of his neck moves along as he swallows dryly to assure you the realness of his words, his thumb traveling up your face to wipe the moist corner of your eye. "I'm a bloody wanker for taking so long to see...that you're the one who has always kept me grounded, who has always made me feel more like myself. Even as far as making me feel like I don't need all this fame to lead a good life, " his breath shortens between each sentence and your jaw goes slack as he exploits the atmosphere to continue, eyes buried deep into yours as if the space in between doesn't even matter anymore.

"I'm an idiot...for not realising sooner that it's always been you."

"Ben-"

"I love you too, Y/N L/N, more than the way I used to. How could I ever be happy without you? We promised neither of us is going anywhere, right? "

Definitely not in the context of mere friendship. For a moment, you make it your quest to find your voice to react and you do.

"You can't. You can't- I mean, what about Rosy? Surely your feelings for her wouldn't just go away like that-"

"It's been doused for so long with the ones for you growing," he's thumb is now gingerly stroking circles on your cheek, the green in his eyes gleaming, "that dance at the after party put me in my place and I asked you if you were still coming to my wedding because...it was my way of telling you how I felt at that moment."

Despite the idea coming off a little incoherent, you immediately get the bottom line. It would've been like coming to your own wedding. You study his gaze confusingly before coming to believe that he actually does love you back in the way you always have.

The words have been built up from the moment he whipped out his share of the polaroid and reestablished his promise as the way he felt towards you took a dramatic turn.

Yet no matter how badly you want to stay and finally work some things out with him, he's engaged and you're leaving in 45 minutes.

And what of Rosy? Hopefully Ben wouldn't think of just fragmenting her like that.

Your deafening silence puts Ben under a heap of worry as he painfully anticipates for your reaction. You shake your head at the unlikelihood of your present situations, bringing your eyes shut as you respond in the only way you can without any words needed to express how sorry you are and how much you've waited for him to say it.

Against your better judgement, you lean your body towards him and catch him off guard with the most bittersweet, goodbye kiss anyone could ever exercise on a moment's notice.

You can tell his positive response with how rapid the heart monitor pulses are becoming and how his lips have begun moving passionately against yours.

His eyes flutter shut in return, tangling his fingers in your hair as he dares to deepen the kiss, eager to feel every inch of your lips as he knows that you still won't be staying after this.

Wait for me to come home...

You pull away catching your breaths as you rest your forehead on his, his hand stroking the back of your hair for the little time you have left in your hands.

This feels so wrong yet so right at the same time. Howbeit strong the desire to stay put, you break away before the spark between either of you becomes magnetizing enough to change your mind.

"Please tell me where you're going...please." He pleads yet you refuse to tell him where you're headed to avoid a fuss, shaking your head apologetically with the space between you both increasing.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, retreating quickly to the door as you ignore his broken pleas and just in time to be welcomed by the doctor, Rosy and some nurses who are here to conduct another assessment. Your pulse picks up at the sight of an uneasy Rosy along with an extra glimpse of a tuft of red and a head of blonde hair overtopping from behind her, eager to check up on whatever is occurring.

Joe and Lucy.

You clear your throat as you utter quickly to the doctor, unable to set your gaze steady. "He's awake." Your update stirs them to hasten on their steps inwards and you don't bother to stop to give Rosy a glance as she brushes by you, with you feeling the slightest, if not an immense amount of guilt for kissing her fiance– your best friend, who now has to make a troubling choice in choosing between you and her. Most importantly, you wouldn't dare to contend with Rosy over this, you'd rather let it happen naturally and see where it would lead but that's the least of your priorities.

You've whizzed a meter past Joe and Lucy but freeze in your spot at Joe's frail call of your name, your shoulders relaxing after a brief pause. "Y/N...how did- how did it go?"

You remain static in your spot, just wanting to leave the building and basically see past everything.

"Let's just go."

Of course he and Lucy half expected your last conversation to be balanced on a scale of nonchalant to vehement but it went off the boundary of vehemence. With one more look at the closed door, the two catch up with you on your way out with a plan on revisiting Ben on their way back from the airport.

You lengthen the sleeve of your sweater and dab your eyes with it, striding towards the car and slipping into passenger's seat gracefully with the two trailing from behind. Once they climb in after you, they begin bombarding you with questions you'd expect them to drop but being so exhausted from all of drama just lessens your likelihood of elaborating your answers. With a few questions dismissed, you ask Joe to just step on it and he complies sadly.

Lucy gives you a sympathetic, lopsided smile and however stagnant your expression is at the moment, you return the favor as the car accelerates on the road ahead.

You bother to give the distancing hospital one last look; giving him one last look.

At the same time the doctors are asking Ben some questions and performing a few physical tests on him, you make it to the airport with some time to spare. Joe and Lucy accompany you into the waiting area agreeing to stick around just until your flight number is announced.

Propping your luggage bag against a vacant seat next to the ones Joe and Lucy are seated on, you dig through your pocket and pull your phone out to check if there are any calls you've slept on. So far nothing of the sort but a dozen texts from friends and acquaintances wishing you the best on your flight to Spain, though you still have to return to London to collect your essentials.

Their words coax a small smile on your lips and after pressing the button to your home screen, the wallpaper brings a small tear to your eye– you and Ben with your arms wrapped around each other beaming goofily at the shutter of the camera.

In this instance, you begin wondering why photos and pictures

have become such a recurring emblem in your friendship. Joe and Lucy notice the sadness spring out of your eyes and cloud your features as you gaze one last time at your phone, and they instantly figure out what you were looking at. Lucy gets up and turns you around softly by the shoulder, prompting you to talk it out to them prior to leaving. If it unloads the stresses you're under then you agree to it, telling them what went on inside the room not too long ago.

Upon mentioning the bit where Ben confessed to you and was insistent on not letting you leave, Joe breathes out a firm, "I knew it" and Lucy shakes her head incredulously at Ben's 'perfect' timing but overall they're both glad he's opened his eyes– in a metaphorical and physical sense– to the person who has always been worthy of that spot in his life. As your conversation comes to a close, the announcement of the boarding of your flight number limits your bittersweet goodbyes however you do promise that you'll call them as soon as you touchdown.

"You better do well out there! Don't forget to call us every once in a while. Or everyday, damn it!" Joe calls out after blowing multiple kisses to you, he and Lucy bidding you an effective farewell. You wave back at them with a reassuring grin before disappearing into the crowd of bustling passengers, huffing sadly underneath your breath as you trail your finger smoothly across your bottom lip– where Ben had left his precious, goodbye mark for you. Something you ought to hold on to dearly for the moments you'll be missing out on.

Many months later

During your first day in the University of Barcelona, you could've sworn it was all but a dream and at any given moment you could've awakened; but it wasn't. It was right before your eyes and you were standing upon the solid concrete that held those opportunities. In the first days you were but a foreigner; merely wandering around the campus with your textbooks in hand making your journey to the lab and cafeteria a noble quest. Like your life depended on finding your way through every twist and turn on a day to day basis, asking fellow students where particular rooms were as you struggled to maintain good eye contact.

It was an everyday uphill battle for everyone.

However things have improved immensely in the following months, you have gained new friends in most of your classes, developed a good sense of direction around the campus and you've scored solid 90's in your classes which you thought would be bumpy the first time but attainable anyway through nights spent with ounces of coffee, extensive reading and episodes of academic agony.

Despite the pressures in your first year, you still keep in touch with your friends and family back home, especially with Joe and Lucy to whom you had once swore to always call. They're glad to know you've been at your peak in the past few months plus they wouldn't stop making a fuss about how much they miss you and long to have some sort of reunion once you decide to go back for a break. They've been well too– Joe's planning on producing a new movie although he's not certain with the details yet, Gwilym has talked to you as well and he's thriving with new projects which you were quick to congratulate him on and Lucy - oh, darling Lucy- apparently Rami had taken her out of the country again and popped the question out of nowhere just two months after you left.

Of course, when she told you the news the hot brew you had nearly swallowed came spewing out of your mouth in surprise thereby catching the attention of the people you were with at that time. But that was out of happiness too, she's invited you to her wedding –a few months after breaking to you the news of her engagement– which is to take place two weeks from now, something you're unfortunately unsure of attending since you are steadfast on getting heaps of classwork done.

But you promised to update her if ever you found an opening on that week to squeeze in a flight.

"Aren't you coming with us? They're waiting downstairs and it's our only night off this week. " Ava, your roommate and closest friend among the others, asks as she slips on her cardigan, ready to leave for a night out. You've got a book propped up in front of you and you were just getting immersed in the lines you've taken your eyes off of. "Er, it's kind of a cold night out. You girls have fun anyway."

"You sure?"

You nod, flipping your pen in your fingers. "Just bring me home a smoothie while you're at it."

"Get your butt off the chair and do it yourself!" She whines as she throws a nearby ball of cotton at you and you giggle lightheartedly, wishing her and the girls good luck as she heads out, shutting the door behind her.

You're just relieved they can communicate fluently with you or you never would've gotten around the city easily. Just as you begin turning your attention back to your book, you suddenly lose the interest to continue and just close it for the night, picking your phone up and tossing yourself on the bed with a small jounce as you land.

You shift on your spot as you check through your messages, emails, some posts from friends and whatnot to pass the hour, eventually noticing a message from an unknown number sent just earlier today. Curiosity peaks in you and you don't think twice before clicking on it to read.

You've changed your number weeks prior anyway so it could be from someone you know whose phone number you haven't asked for yet.

Hey, Y/N.

I know this is out of the blue but it's been a while since I've heard from you and in all honesty I didn't even bother to contact you the first time out of the assumption that you might have busied yourself a lot and don't have the time to check your phone. But I've become so worried then that I had to decide to ask you how you're doing. How you're holding up wherever you are. If you're not overworking yourself since you tend to do that a lot. I know it's been months since we've last talked to each other but I just miss you. I miss seeing you, having those late night conversations that got you late in the morning for work, hanging out and your voice. I kind of want to call you but you might be occupied and I don't wanna be a bit of a bother.

I miss you so much, love. Every single day. I'm trying to distract myself with the new project I've taken but you're just impossible to sleep on. When will you ever be back?

Why does the tone of the message seem familiar?

You reread along the last lines and your heart comes to a stop at one word that gives away the possible identity of the sender.

The lingering silence in the room making it possible for you to hear the elevated throbbing of your heart. It's been a while since he's slipped into your mind and even until now, the love you have for him is still flourishing wholly. Even when you had your mind set on your studies, your heart unknowingly had some other priorities.

So has he called things off with Rosy because if he hasn't yet, the tone of the message wouldn't come off as sincere as this.

That's a question you don't need answered for the meantime however you wonder how he was able to text you when you've pretty much changed your number.

You hope he's fully recovered from that head trauma though it's been nearly a year since that happened. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, thinking about replying.

Hey. Ben if this is you, it's great to hear from you again.

Your eyes dart to the send button, taking a brief pause before hitting it and discarding your phone to the side at least hoping he wouldn't respond immediately because then it would lead to a conversation that might just turn awkward.

Never have you had an awkward talk with him so it's something you wouldn't want to acquaint yourself with.

You grab your pillow and press your cheek against it in uncertainty.

"Don't even start...thinking about him." You mumble groggily into the pillow and lay flat on your back as you begin wallowing in your own doubt, your eyes becoming droopy at every second spent on staring at the pale ceiling with your right arm and leg thrown over the pillow like you're never gonna let it go.

You never even considered seeing someone else because deep down, you still hoped for him. Though you had exchanged some stares and 'interactive' words with a few guys in your classes, none of them ever came or would ever come close to Ben.

- - - - - - -

This week's lab work gave your brain a mild whiplash with all the hustling you were required to do.

Every morning, you either had breakfast or not and it all depended on how early you had to be there. Provided that you had to take off in the early hours, you had to skip a good bite nearly every morning; plus you were all being assessed closely by your professor and so a downshifted movement was every bit as unacceptable.

At least now that you had just gotten off from your last period you can reward yourself with some good Mediterannean food that should be the ultimate dinner of your night.

You and Ava are seated around a table laughing and enjoying each other's companies with your plates and glasses half-filled with leftovers after a quick chow down, but your attention is quickly divided as a text from Lucy surfaces. She's asked you about your availability next week and you ought to re-check your schedule for it. Once again upon pressing your home screen button you can't help but let a longing smile take form on your lips at your wallpaper and with you being oblivious to Ava noticing, to your demise, she takes a sly peek at what you're looking at and disrupt your train of thought.

"Who's that?" Ava asks with a cheeky grin to which you quickly recoil with your phone held loosely in your hand.

"Nothi- no-one. "

As nosy as she is tenacious, she swiftly

snatches your phone from your weak grip and dares to unlock it, the wallpaper of you and Ben making her swoon in delight. "Y/N, how on Earth did you get Ben Hardy to hold you for a photo like this?" Squealing like a schoolgirl, Ava grills you with an inquisitive look. You've never bothered to tell her or any of your new found friends anything about your friendship with him and so now she thinks you're a fan who merely got luck in her favour for a picture.

If only she knew.

"I don't know? How'd you know it's him?" You speak up your mind, a fleeting blush crawling its way to your face.

" Bohemian Rhapsody was a hit, of course. Queen rocks and I was all for it," she gesticulates as a matter of fact and winks playfully, "and later on we were all for the cutie who played Roger Taylor."

You try your very best not to let a single squeak of laughter escape your lips as she begins drooling over him. What are the chances of her finding out, right? You would tell her about it and have her meet him however your situation is too dire to act in. Come to think of it, you haven't received a reply to your reply to his message. He could be juggling a lot in his hands at the moment, perhaps.

"Cutie. Yeah, he's cute. But the guy seems clumsy enough to drop your heart." Here you are throwing a sportive shade all the way from Barcelona.

As if she's taken a fake offense at your comment, Ava overdoes a gasp. "Is that how you say thanks?"

You respond with a one-shoulder shrug, your voice neutral to keep yourself from giving away the screams of your heart. "I'm just saying. What are we doing next week by the way?"

"As I've been told by Mr. Gomez, the school will be hosting an array of meetings with the BOD and so we're given a time off."

You blink thrice at her. "Seriously? Like a week?"

She forks a tapa from her plate and bites down on it, nodding at you. "Three days max." So you don't have the entire week off, but that's great. Given that you had told Lucy you'd update her about your availability during that time and now that you have a few days to spare, you're conditioned to go. You quickly get up from your chair and excuse yourself from Ava, making your way to the terrace to dial Lucy who you hope is reachable at the meantime.

"Hello?"

"Lucy, hey!"

"Y/N, thank goodness you called!"

"About my weekly update?" You bite down on your lip in excitement, swinging your leg back and forth aimlessly.

"What about it?"

"I'm free next week."

- - - - - - -

"And cut! Okay everyone, lunch break. We're not cleaning up the rubble yet so we'll leave it there for the next scene." At the sound of the clapperboard slamming, all stunts have been ceased until the next roll and the main actors retreat individually to their own trailers, one of which is Ben who is walking back within beads of sweat dripping from his forehead as a result of a car stunt he had to perform on set. He's glad he can finally swing his left arm with unbridled ease after disposing of the sling just two months back although he's left with a few scars; the primary one on his forehead from the trauma he had.

A PA hands him a bottle of water and he thanks her for the save, cracking the lid off and chugging away. He waves at his fellow co-stars before entering his trailer and slipping out of his sweaty shirt, dumping it on the edge of the bed.

He places the bottle on a coffee table and swipes his phone from his drawer, being welcomed by a heap ton of messages, one days older than the next. He scratches his head at the result of his constant business; not being able to find time to reply thereby impregnating his inbox with miscellaneous messages.

Three from Lucy which he is 'obligated' to check first and foremost. Ben's lips twitch to an uneven smirk as he reads her messages, amused that he's been invited to her wedding, along with other people.

He replies with a simple yet sincere, "Thanks, I'll mark it on my calendar" before proceeding to put his phone down on the bed. He sighs, taking out his wallet from his drawer and opening it to pick out something, the dual polaroid he's folded in catching his eye and all of his attention; and for a moment, his heart stops.

He pulls it out from its slot and unfolds it, the tape used to stick it together crinkled but still an effective adhesive. Without taking his eyes off of the polaroids, he plops down on the edge of the bed and wipes his forehead, hiding the ridiculous smile he now has on his face behind his hand. The memory still does things to him apparently and he has never let go since the day you kissed him goodbye. He can still feel the touch of your lips linger on his and admittedly, he traces his finger across the spot every time you cross his mind. The things you had said to him while he was unconscious ultimately stuck in his mind and he just longs to hear your voice once more. There are multiple times he forgets that you're not around to vent to or watch a good game of rugby with or do whatever you used to do together, no matter the trouble.

Generally speaking, he just yearns to be with you.

On a side note, he had long called things off with Rosy, exactly a day after he had awakened. Of course, she didn't take it easy but he knew damn well who he loved.

A heavy sigh leaves Ben's lips as he lowers his head at the frustration he feels for never owning up to his feelings.

She probably has some other guy in her life now. What are my chances? He thinks dryly to himself. "Hey, Ben? Break is over." The assistant director knocks on his trailer door and he tells him that he'll be out in a few. Tucking the polaroids back into his wallet, he snags the fresh shirt that's been laid out on the sofa across him and pulls it on, combing his blond hair back with his fingers before heading out to get the day done without realizing that he has skipped your reply.

With the days leading up to Rami and Lucy's wedding, they have never been more busier about any other event in their entire lives. They've decided on a beach wedding and to hold the reception there as well. Lucy has made you one of her bridesmaids yet you declined at first because that would mean you would have to fly in early for a practice down the aisle but she's assured you that practice wouldn't be necessary. She has taken care of the dresses and such and all you need to do is just fly down to California, again, to attend. Speaking of dresses, you bought her a little wedding gift yourself. It's something small but it's bound to suit her look.

You've told Ava about the wedding– excluding essential details like whose wedding it is specifically– and she's a little disheartened that you wouldn't be around to hang out with for the week but you've reassured her that you won't be long; considering you'll also be reviewing for upcoming tests.

"Okay, so it's a beach wedding? Drastic times call for some drastic measures, chica!" She exclaims and throw her arms up in the air, springing out of her bed and rummaging through her wardrobe as you throw what you can into one, just one luggage bag.

She pulls out a black two-piece bikini from the drawers and upon beholding it, you feel your eyes burn to a crisp. "There won't be any swimming, as far as I'm concerned."

"You'll never know. Just toss this in, it might come in handy." You swear you saw a mischievous glint in her eye as she said that. You press your lips into a tentative, hard line before surrendering, grabbing the pair from her and stuffing it in the unreachable depths of your luggage.

"Happy?" She nods vigorously and you sigh in defeat, zipping your bag close.

The day came and the jet lag is still real. You've flown in a day prior, exactly the day of Lucy's bridal shower and well, a literal bone crushing hug welcomed you on your way into the arrival area. She looked really fresh and bloomy before you arrived but afterwards, it was a messy head of hair and a waste of makeup, not to give it a stretch but it was. She's shed a few tears from how long you've been gone and you couldn't help but shed a few yourself, awfully missing her and the rest.

She's prepped a hotel for all her bridesmaids to stay in and you had some thoughts on how much she's spent but it's her wedding so who are you to question? As she helps you settle in your room, she pauses and brings you in for another big hug.

"Aww, Luce." You chuckle over her shoulder, rubbing her back.

She snaps her eyes shut and hums. "Oh Y/N, I've missed you. We all have. I know we call a lot even from a distance but it's been so long since we've last seen each other."

You sigh heavily, still holding her close.

"LAX. Yeah. It's only been a year but it feels like forever," you pull away deliberately, hands still firm on her shoulders with a heartfelt gaze, "Congratulations, Luce. You and Rami better make wonderful babies."

She smacks your arm lightly as an appropriate response to your little tease. "Shut it. Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"Yeah," she planks down on the edge of the duvet and crosses her legs, leaning her body forward, "how's Spain? How's the school? The agony? Been seeing someone?" The last bit catches you by surprise; as if she's emphasized the question enough for it to be the main thing you have to answer. You disregard it for a few seconds until she brings it up again. You turn to give her an incredulous brow lift, something she returns with a curious grin. "Are you seeing anyone?"

In your mind, she should know that you've only ever had one guy in your heart but knowing Lucy, she just wants to hear you say it yourself .

You huff underneath your breath, planting your hands on your hips as you perpend on saying the following. "Spain is amazing. School is both heaven and hell. The agony exists in every divot, and no, I'm not seeing anyone."

"That's good."

You glance sideways awkwardly. "Okay? Is what good?"

"Everything, except the agony part, especially the last."

"I'm not seeing anyone?" You repeat and she nods with a blossoming smile. You don't say anything else since it's obvious that she's keen on letting you talk about Ben but today's not the day that you do. It's the day before her wedding and every present air particle should be all about her.

"Regardless, Miss Boynton. This week is all about you so," you alter your stance and skip to your luggage bag, unzipping one compartment and pulling out your wedding gift for her, "it's not much but I figured this looks better if it's on you." You hand her the palm-sized object and she lets out a little gasp at what you got her. It's a hair comb adorned with two, white roses and pale rhinestones that glimmer under the spilling light.

Something that would upgrade her sun-kissed beauty on a clear day. You try it on her and step back to picture her with the full ensemble as she walks down the sandy aisle tomorrow. "Good lord, look at you all grown up." You pretend to tear up and she tilts her head back in a burst of laughter, walking to you with welcoming arms and green eyes that are nearly brimming with tears.

"Oh I love it, Y/N! I knew something was missing in the outfit but you've completed it. It's perfect." She mumbles happily against your shoulder and her contentment tickles your insides.

"I'm glad you like it."

After giving you a look of what you'll be wearing tomorrow and a few, friendly introductions to the rest of the bridesmaids, the bridal shower is where everything is at. Ranging from colorful streamers to champagne to cake strippers, the latter putting you under uneasy situations when you just wished to enjoy your drink and your own space. At the same hour you're enjoying yourselves, on the other side of town is where Rami and the boys are on full swing with his bachelor's party. It has the same vibe, only without the strippers and streamers and constant belly-aching movement.

You just pray none of you will be waking up with hangovers at the hour you'll be fixing yourselves.

And indeed none of you have.

You've all waken up like ladies but clumsily as the realization of the time nudges you out of your beds. Ceremony starts at 9 and you're 5 hours early to ensure that everything progresses smoothly.

It's a condensed hustle within your separate rooms; the pattern of getting ready ever so similar. Shower, makeup, hair, dress, and retouch; all done in complete unison. With all the bridesmaids, including yourself, conditioned outfit-wise, you all gather in Lucy's room to assist in psyching her up for the big day. Her mom's in too to witness every precious second of seeing her daughter fly off on her own.

She's still in her robe but her hair and makeup have been beautifully done by one of her makeup artist friends. She's about to step into her gown, a sight the girls are just dying to see.

"Alright, Lucy. Let me just zip up the back." Says one of the girls who has helped with her makeup as Lucy stands confidently but nervously in front of the mirror, scanning her reflection. You fold your hands together in anticipation, gasping as she turns around slowly with the skirt of the gown gracefully following her turning motion. Her radiance could put the sun's to complete shame.

"Well, say something, girls." She prompts with a chuckle and as expected, it is followed by the uproarious squeal of everyone in the room including yourself. Rami is guaranteed to have his gaze super-glued to Lucy the moment she reveals herself. After having a dozen compliments shower her, you and the rest of the girls retreat outside to give her and her mother a time to talk. As you lean against the door frame, you fish out your phone from your purse and check your messages; coming across your reply to Ben which hasn't received another one from him yet.

You wipe off the downhearted smirk on your expression as the girls' murmurs increase as Lucy steps out holding a bouquet of flowers with her mom on her arm and the edge of her gown lifted by two assistants. She turns her head to find you and crooks her finger at you upon seeing you inclined against the frame, letting you walk by her side.

You notice she's sporting the gift you've given her and the sentimentality makes you want to tear up but in doing so would ruin your makeup and so you decide to save it for the kiss.

You lean in close to her and whisper in a flat but playful tone, your words making her giggle. "Rami's totally getting it."

"I'm not the only one who's getting it today." She winks at you and leaves you questioning what she meant. She made it sound like it's something you have to find out for yourself later on. The weather is fine and not as humid as you thought; the ideal atmosphere to marry under. The bridesmaids are to ride in a separate vehicle that will follow up behind the one Lucy and her mom will be taking. To say that your ride with the the girls to the resort turned out fun and noisy is an understatement; you couldn't be any more conscious about smudging your makeup as you busted your guts laughing at your topics. The driver had given you weirded out looks but you know he was just trying to feign a laugh. By the time you arrive at the resort, a gust of wind from the seaside welcomes you out and nearly messes up your hair though you've put it up in an elegant bun with your tendrils hanging loosely from the sides of your head. You traverse closely behind the rest of the girls and find the venue nearly packed with attendees in their most sophisticated dresses and suits. The altar is set meters away from the shoreline and a red carpet has been rolled out to serve as the aisle between lines of pillars decorated with tropical flowers. A gentle music piece is being played by a violinist and a cellist situated on the left side of the altar with waiters serving some four-seasoned refreshments for the guests to enjoy as they wait.

With all these people around, you can't help but wonder if either Joe or Gwilym made it. You haven't contacted Joe about arriving, given that you wanted to surprise him with your arrival. You peer down at your wristwatch and it's only an hour before the ceremony starts. Rami's nowhere to be seen and you badly want to congratulate him on this, but either way, he's probably attending to some other people and so you put that chance on hold.

As you had wished for yourself to be void of any mishaps today, you bumping into a tall figure as you turn around to walk away deters that possibility and mortifies you for a moment.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry-" You quickly apologize but cease as a familiar face meets your lifting gaze.

"What- Y/N?!"

"J-Joe?!"

"Y/N!"

"Joe!" After shamelessly screaming each other's names, you put no thought into the action of jumping into his arms for a tight hug. He's crushing you in one anyway. "Oh my g- what- when did you arrive, you little sneak? " He exclaims and lets you go for a split second, careful not to ruin your satin outfit. "You're going to murder me for this but yesterday."

His brows furrow in disbelief as his mouth hangs agape. "How dare you not tell me? I mean, I knew Lucy would invite you but...actually how dare you both for not telling me." He whines in a joking manner and you respond with a quick shrug. "Surprise, surprise."

"You sure did and wow," his eyes travel up and down your outfit and you click your tongue at him as he does, pointing your finger to your eyes that are aimlessly roving around his suit in the same manner. "Hey Mazzello, eyes here."

"Hypocrite, eyes here." He mimics your action mockingly and you take eye-rolling to the next level.

"Damn it Joe, I've missed you."

"Missed you too. Been a year but it feels like a decade and you look beautiful, by the way, in that outfit as a bridesmaid." He places his hand on your upper back and leads you into the lounging area that is close to the pool but not far from the event area.

"You don't look so bad yourself for a groomsman. "

"How'd you guess?"

"This is Rami's wedding. I'd know."

You got an hour to talk before you take your positions anyway so catching up would be vital. You settle down on the sofa and fit your talk into the time limit, telling each other about what went on in your lives for the past few months. A lot of interesting stuff has happened to Joe and he's absolutely lively as he talks about it however yours hasn't been much, just adaptation to a new environment and the academic agony. Your talk takes an interesting turn as Joe asks you a question related to something you haven't thought about for a few days.

"Since you're pretty much still on the market, you ever think about...you know."

Your brows crease at him. "What?"

"You know," he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, "Ben."

"Oh." Is the only thing you can say. The answer is pretty clear, you do think about him but not on a daily basis. He comes across your mind when you've drifted off into oblivion with your thoughts or when something that may remind you of him catches your eye.

"Sometimes I guess. But not as deep as I used to."

"I know you miss him, Y/N, and he misses you too. Believe me, he tells me everytime he calls."

You cast him a short gaze but look back at your fingers, a little comforted by the thought and it motivates you to ask. "Is he still with Rosy?"

Joe scoffs, mildly amused and wholly relieved at the contrary. "That's the good news. He's broken things off with her long ago. Just a day after he regained consciousness."

"Really?" You won't admit it but part of you feels bad for her.

"Yeah and I'm not spoiling you the rest," he rises from his spot on the sofa and reaches out for your hand, pulling you up gracefully. "The thing's about to start." He gestures to the chairs that are beginning to get occupied by the people as the priest arrives. You walk back out alongside him, leaning in to ask out of curiosity. "What do you mean you won't spoil me the rest?"

"You'll see, now go skedaddle to Lucy. She needs her crew." He pats your shoulder with a crooked smile on and you sigh inwardly, waving at him as you divert paths; with you headed to where the rest of the bridesmaids and the bride herself are gathered.

"Gwilym! You're just on time." Spotting Gwilym making his way to join Sami – Rami's brother– at the front row of chairs on the right wing as one of the groomsmen, Joe greets him with a brief hug and takes his place next to him. Sami greets the two men as well, exchanging some remarks before being joined by Ben who had been caught in traffic on his way. "Benny!"

"Ben!"

"Hey, you guys! Am I late? Did I miss the vows?" He asks with a hint of irony as he takes the spot between Gwil and Joe, shaking hands with Sami at the same time. Not a minute longer they are joined by the remaining groomsmen and Rami who has finally garnered up the physical strength to stand on the altar without breaking a sweat.

"You got this, mate. Just don't look down. Your boutonniere looks nice if I might add." Gwilym simultaneously advises and compliments an already nervous Rami hoping to appease him yet earns a quick yet teasing smack from Joe for making a small joke out of the situation. To show them that he's actually better on every possible level, Rami stands tall and rests his hands on his front to exude that confidence and excitement of being minutes away from watching his soon-to-be Mrs. Malek grace the aisle with her presence.

The guests simmer down with their chatters as the first ones who will be walking down the aisle take their positions. The musicians stop playing as they wait for the cue to initiate the main piece in accordance with the first walk.

Among the ones that will be walking before Lucy's big entrance is you and though you'll be joined by your fellow bridesmaids, it somehow just quakes your nerves, tightening your grip around the small bouquet of flowers you've been given as a prop.

You can't understand why you're feeling nervous; you're not the one that's getting married but you just don't know why. The musicians are given the cue and they begin playing a familiar song, something contemporary but heart-achingly romantic.

"You okay?" Asks a fellow bridesmaid and you nod, telling her that you're a bit anxious. She reassures you with a smile and it unknots your tension. The guests and attendees turn their heads towards the threshold of the aisle and the sponsors begin walking down first. Next are some of their relatives, then you– the bridesmaids. There are at least seven of you and you come in fifth. As you begin sauntering down the aisle, you feel relaxed yet piercing eyes trail your movement yet you beg to differ and keep your head up with a mellow smile on your face as you keep your eyes ahead, your unsteady gaze fleeting from the altar and to the groomsmen seated at the front row of the right wing.

Your eyes land on Joe and Gwilym who start giving you bright beams as they notice you in an instant. If you weren't trying to walk sophisticatedly with all these people staring, you would let out the loudest, most awkward giggle. It's nice to see Gwilym again though. Just as you begin turning your unwavering attention away, you take a subtle double take at a certain pair of eyes that has found you long before you found them. You are meters away from reaching your end of the aisle and yet it seems as if you've only started walking with how the music has turned up and how you're exchanging astonished yet longing gapes with Ben who knows he is seconds away from exploding with who he's finally seeing. You're here as a bridesmaid for Lucy and yet ridiculously, you feel like the bride.

Of course he's here. Of course he's one of the groomsmen. Of course Lucy and Joe wouldn't tell you. Of course this is the thing Joe didn't want to spoil about. Why didn't you think about any of this earlier? It would've saved you the shock regardless of it being so obvious.

You gather the strength to break away from the trance you've put yourself in and stand next to the girls, using up all the willpower in your body to avoid risking a peek at the groomsmen– at one groomsman rather. It's the same struggle for Ben who is every bit as stubborn as the next person and does the contrary, going as far as tilting his head to one side just to cop a longer view of you, an action Joe notices and slaps his hand for. Ben winces a bit and gives Joe a questioning look for two reasons.

"Save it." Joe whispers flatly and yet Ben dismisses it and feels his breath hitch in his throat as the sight of you appeases his worries yet makes his heart run a mile. With the ring bearers and flower girls at the edge of their walk, everyone rises up at the reveal of Lucy. The music slows down to fit the pace of her walk with her mother by her side, her eyes finding Rami's and establishing a home in them. You glance at both of them and feel your heart inflate at how strong their love for each other is, something that usually only exists in novels and fiction. Lucy's eyes well with joyful tears as she reaches the altar and her mother finally surrenders her hand to Rami.

It's too much.

With you being too distracted by the spark between Rami and Lucy, you overlook Ben's unbreakable gaze at you. The moment you grew a smile, it invalidated everything else surrounding him.

The priest requests everyone to finally sit down and witness the lifetime commitment blossom. Throughout the ceremony, you can't help but feel his eyes sear through you yet you stand your ground and fix your gaze at the happenings on the altar, briefly failing every once in a while by finding yourself looking back at him. The moment has come for them to exchange their vows and you listen intently at every word sincerely uttered by the two. There are parts in their vows that make the people giggle and tear up at the emotion put into every word expressed. It seems surreal to you that the moment Rami tells Lucy that he's never going anywhere, your gaze meets Ben's and it becomes undeniably bewitching, Rami's words acting as a call back to your promises. As the rings are exchanged and the "I do's" are said, the priest pronounces them husband and wife and you tear your focus away from Ben just in time for Rami and Lucy to share their first kiss as a married couple. Cheers and applauds fill the air and even more tears of joy are shed at the start of their lifetime bond. They both couldn't look any more blissful, with the pair of them giddily flaunting their rings with grins so radiant and bright it undermines the power of the sun upon them.

The cheers and excitement continue at the reception which, of course, is hosted at the very same place. After the ceremony– you, the girls and Lucy took off to the rooms you've booked in the resort for the meantime to change into the appropriate apparel to match the vibe of the venue and even the venue itself. Rami and the boys drove back to their respective hotels to change as well and it was a bit hard for the newly weds to go their separate ways for a few hours just to change clothes. Now that you've all rejoined for the reception, lively doesn't even begin to cut it. It's just like any other wedding reception and like any other wedding reception, it's upbeat, smooth and a little haywire on the egdes. After going through with dinner and a couple of toasts and remarks about the funny side of Rami and Lucy's relationship, the dance floor is open for business. At first glance, the girls take you for someone who is in need of a lot acquainting with the dance floor and they're right; because of that they haul you in themselves and you end up enjoying moving around to the music. You decide to refreshen yourself with a glass of iced tea before returning to your fun. One gulp is all takes to replenish the energy lost and you turn around to head back but freeze in your spot at the sight of Joe with his hand out, asking you for a dance.

"Seriously?" You're not surprised but your brows shoot up in question.

"It's my way of saying 'I need to talk to you'. "

"We can do that outside." You gesture to the vacant space yet Joe insists that he dances with you as you talk. You purse your lips together, letting him take your hand and he pulls you along with him almost too abruptly, eliciting a ticklish squeal from you.

"Don't do that!" You whine as you both settle among the multitude of dancing people. He lowers his head in laughter and twirls you under his arm, drawing you close afterwards. You rest one hand on his shoulder as he holds up the other. "Where's the fun in talking outside now, huh?"

"Alright," you grin ridiculously, spotting Rami and Lucy in each other's arms as they slow dance near the mini stage, looking and feeling at one with the other. "Hey, doesn't it just warm you?" You poke Joe and gesture to the newlyweds. He peers over at them and hums in a heartwarming way. "Yeah. Man, it's like they're communicating with each other merely through their close-knit heartbeats."

"Speaking of communication," you clear your throat and give him a direct look, " what did you want to talk about?"

He snaps out from gauging at the two and leads you on a gentle sway as he swallows, increasing the volume of his voice just loud enough to cut through the music and for you to hear. "Right. About the thing during the ceremony," you immediately catch on to what he's trying to say and interrupt his next words.

"Okay, thanks for implying, but are you kidding me? Giving me stroke by hiding Ben's attendance?"

"It was for dramatic effect," your eyes flatten puzzlingly at his defense. "What was so dramatic in that besides the awkward... staring?" You know the truth and it really wasn't awkward; in fact it felt like time dilated between you both.

Joe ping-pongs his gaze from one end of the place to the other and back to you. "You paused after 'awkward'. You liked it." The smile on his face teasing you. He's really that sensitive to the nuance of your voice, making it easier for him to figure out how you actually feel about anything.

You evade his prying look and clear your throat, trying to keep up with the transition of the rhythmic music to a slow tune. "So what if I did?" You mumble intentionally.

"Nothing bad. Just Ben wouldn't stop fidgeting in his spot after seeing you. He was this," he makes small jerky movements with his upper body as to imitate Ben's inability to keep still during the ceremony, "antsy and I was this close to losing it."

You snort as you let an explosive laugh overcome you, recollecting yourself shortly as you are flattered by Joe's report. "I felt the same. It took every cell in my body to prevent myself from launching at him honestly."

"I'm glad we sat in separate tables or else neither of you would function like regular...human beings." The grin on Joe's face fades in the same manner as his last words, staring off at a figure approaching from behind you. He regains his voice in a matter of seconds, only with a sly twinkle in his eyes this time.

"You okay?" You ask him, slowly removing your hand from his chest and he nods vigorously, taking position to whirl you off but with a sneaky twist.

"I'm fine. Just... Gwilym wants to dance with you and he's right behind you so I'm going to spin you off to him, sound good?" He lifts your arm up and you shrug in agreement, going with what Joe's planning to do.

"Ally oop!" He twirls you around and releases your hand just in time for you to cling onto a firm frame, giggling at the rush you felt. "Hey Gwil! Good catch, that was a strong spin-" You take a hard pause the second you lift your eyes up with the expectation of meeting Gwilym's sapphire blues, greeting a pair of forest, green orbs instead and it becomes more than what you've bargained for. His veiny arms have caught you with ease and you're sinking, both literally and metaphorically, your arms awkwardly thrown over his shoulders for support.

He helps you regain your balance and smiles the smile you had craved to behold again, breathing out your name like he hasn't said it in a long time. "Y/N, hi."

You find your voice just in time to reply. "Ben...h-hi." He's looking quite good in an all white attire. His white dress shirt is tucked in and has three buttons undone, exposing a lot of his clavicle and a preview of his pecs and the way his white pants just hangs loosely around his legs– you've lost the proper words to describe the sight.

Joe, you crafty asshole.

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