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lazarettta · 4 years ago

Text

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

#ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair richards x reader #ahs cult #ahs x reader #sarah paulson #ahs imagine #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader

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marchtomydrums · 3 years ago

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New Rules 12

Over the next week, Alex has been doing very well with her sessions. Both of you have found ways to communicate better and find other outlets for Alex to try. She hasn't snapped at you all week. Which in your book is progress. However, Alex is expected to go back to work tomorrow and her nerves are showing. She's been extremely quiet all day and you can see her wheels spinning. “Alex,” you called out to her. She looks up from her spot at the kitchen table. “Yeah?” she asked. “Do you want to take a walk with me?” you asked her calmly. She smiles nodding her head “Of course my love.”

The two of you head out the back door hand in hand as you walk through the garden. “I've always loved this garden.” you smiled breathing in deeply. Alex smiles “Me too. My mom used to have a huge garden in our summer home in the Hamptons. I loved it. I would hide out in there for hours.” she says. You smile as you listen to her story but also wonder what exactly she was hiding from.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” you asked. She sighs “Yes.” You nod your head as you watch her look over the rows of flowers. “That's okay, it's normal to be nervous,” you tell her. “I know my therapist said the same thing. And she gave me some exercises to do if I needed to calm myself down,” she explains. “You know if you need me I'll be there in a heartbeat,” you tell her. She laughs “Yes I know. But don't you think I should handle him on my own?” she asked. You shrugged your shoulders “I don't know. I mean I guess if you feel like you can or that you want to then yes. But if by some chance you need support I'm there.” you tell her.

She smiles stopping in the middle of the aisle as she tugs your body into hers. She leans in to kiss you. You smile into the kiss moaning when it became heated. Pulling back slightly she smiles “Thank you.” “Anytime.” you chuckled as she grabs your hand to resume your walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex’s POV:

Today's the day I have to return to work and I am not looking forward to it. Dad has called me nonstop since I asked for two weeks off. He wants answers and today I have to give them to him. Of course, I have gone over this conversation in my mind hundreds of times and with my therapist. However, I still feel like I'm going to pass out.

Walking towards the office I see him sitting at his desk. Knocking softly on the door I wait for him to look up. “Well look who finally decided to come back to work,” he says. I roll my eyes as I shut the door behind me. “Hi. I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” I tell him. “Alright.” he nods to the chair. I sit down taking a deep breath before I begin. “I have been going through a hard time. I'm sorry that I called out last minute that wasn't my intention. But it was recommended by my therapist.” “Therapist?!” he asked cutting me off. Nodding my head I sigh “ Yes my therapist. I've been going for two straight weeks. And I plan to continue. But I'm back and I'm ready to go. All I ask is that you work with me.” I tell him.

He sits back in his chair eying me closely “ I'm assuming this was y/n’s idea. As a means to “fix you.” he asked with a sarcastic tone. “We both decided to attend therapy for different reasons,” I explain. “Hmm. Whatever floats your boat, Allie. Just don't bring it to this firm. Here is for business and business only.” he says. “I know. Just like my relationship is mine and I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of it.” I spit back. He chuckles “Of course. Now can we resume to our jobs or is there more?” he asked. “That's all for now,” I tell him. He nods going back to his work. I get up walking towards my office with a smile on my face. That went better than I expected it to.

Over the next few days, things were going well. My sessions were getting easier even though I was talking about some hard stuff. The firm is up and running smoothly. Jim and I are working well together. My home life is happier and I haven't hurt myself in almost three weeks. everything seemed to finally be falling into place but of course, he’d ruin it. He always does.

I was sitting at my desk when he came barling into the door. “We have an important meeting tonight so I'll need you to attend dinner with me,” he states. “What? No. I have a session tonight.” I try to tell him. “This is more important than your silly session. These clients are important and we need their name to boost this firm. I expect to see you there at 6. I'll text you the details.” he says walking out of the office. I groaned as I called my therapist explaining I needed to reschedule. Then I called you asking you to drop off a dress, shoes, and a few other items. You showed up an hour later.

Walking in the door with a smile on your face you hand over the items. “What do you need all of this for?” you asked. “Dad needs me to go to dinner with him tonight for a meeting with a client,” I explained looking over the dress. “Tonight? But don't you have a session?” you asked. I groaned “yes I do. I already called and rescheduled.” “Okay. But are you sure that's a good idea?” you asked. “Jesus! I rescheduled the session. What's the problem? You're not my keeper y/n!” I snapped. You nodded your head “Right. Well just call me if you need me.” you mumbled reaching for the door. I quickly move to stand in front of you. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I called her and explained the situation and I'm going tomorrow instead.” I explained. “That was all you had to say,” you tell me. I chuckled “I know. I'm sorry my love. As much as I try to not let him get to me he does. And I shouldn't take it out on you.”

You nod your head still not looking at me. I sigh lifting your chin with my finger “thank you for bringing my things. I love you.” I tell you. You smile “Your welcome. I love you too.” you whispered. Leaning down I give you a small kiss. Moving to the side I open the door for you. You smile giving me a small wave as you leave. “Good job Alex,” I say to myself as I shut the door. Rolling my eyes I look over to the clock to see what time it is. I only have an hour to get ready and meet dad.

An hour later I am in the car headed to the location dad sent me. Saying goodbye to grey I get out walking into the restaurant. “Party for Cabot,” I tell the young girl. She smiles “Yes Ma’am follow me.” she says. Following behind the host I see my father sitting with a man. When I reach the table he looks up stopping me in my tracks. “Robert?”

#alex cabot x reader #lgbtq #wlw #law and order svu #stephanie march #fiction #television #writing #law and order x reader #smut and fluff #age difference #angst #mental health #family sucks #rated m #selfharn #askforhelp #love yourselves #wlw love

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highwaydiamonds · 3 years ago

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So, now that I'm all gradjimatated from cardiac rehab - I took myself over to exercise in the regular portion of the health center ( it's a whole medical/exercise complexy thing. kinda weird but not worth going into) ... I didn't go over Monday but i probably should have but whatever- i didn't - because i had stayed up too late sunday and i kinda just felt like "bleh - monday. don't wanna - don't hafta so i'm not gonna." Which... Is fine. The only one losing out when I don't go is me. It also means I I have to accept that when I don't go I'm not progressing toward my goals. So whenn I decided I would go today (after therapy) it was from a place that wasn't one of obligation or petulance... More just one of, " ok, I'm gonna go and do it - take the opportunity." Doesn't mean I enjoyed doing it, just that I did go and do it and did it for a bit longer like I had wanted to during rehab. Felt like the machine I was on today was hard than the one I used in rehab but it's ok. Also used one of the resistance machines for core stuff and dude - I am WEAK lol. Two dudes way older than I am were using it at higher levels for more reps - had to laugh internally. Room for improvement there methinks.

There are lots of machines I am not familiar with. (Not to mention that there are floors above and below the main level, and the pools. ) I don't know the layouts or locations of stuff or how to use certain things. However, I don't like asking people for help... Asking people for help is hard. (Guess what is another thing we talked about in therapy today... did you guess "asking for help?" you did?! good job- you win an imaginary cookie!) I always struggle with asking for guidance or help because I feel like either I am supposed to know the answer to the question I need to ask or that people will judge me for being stupid along with the judgement i will probably already get about being fat. (cue my therapist asking me " do you think YOU moralize about your weight along with other people?" my reply you ask? It was along the lines of, " oh yeah. I think i do it to myself more than most people probably do to me otherwise... If I think about others logically I know they're likely not thinking about me much at all, but emotionally? My knee-jerk reaction is always that they will be thinking badly of me." So... Did I ask for help today? >.< No. I ALMOST did, but then chickened out. So instead i did my cardio on the stepper that i already knew how to use, and watched some other people use some of the resistance machines with easy sight lines from my machine and did a tiny bit of strength work on those ( just like 2 of them) for a few minutes before i did my ending stretches and that was the hour up. Plan is to go tomorrow and maaaaaaybe I ask someone then. Maybe being there in a different space won't feel as awkward, and I'll feel better about asking for some guidance.

Oh - lastly - sorry i've been quiet here- haven't really beefed up the queue again. I have lots of things to add to it from my likes - but you might be seeing a lot of blog repeats unless i take the time to really do some organizing :/ and honestly, i'm feeling a bit lazy. I'm feeling like i need to something creative but i don't have the space i would need to do messy crafts/art ( so art journaling is kind of out - boo) and right now i could knit but that's not what i really want... I want something that can be colorful and also get some feelings out... if i was any good at drawing/painting I'd do those, but i am so not. Not that I have to be good - I don't but I'm not sure how to express the feelings emotionally if i can't literally express the feelings visually/physically... That is if i can't draw or represent the feelings in color/form on the page does that do anything to help the emotional stew? I suppose the only way to find out is to do it? Hrmmmm - Idk.- we shall see I suppose.

#megan makes herself exercise #megan makes a healthy choice #therapy funtimes #sorry for the lack of blogging on this blog - you get no fun reblogging of memes and cool arty things and austen stuff- just lotsa VERBIAGE

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wanderinginksplot · 4 years ago

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Warriors in Red Armor

Next | Masterlist

Chapter One

Hound I

"So, are we going to 79's tonight?" Hound asked. He had meant to be subtle about it, but the question burst out of him the moment his well-worn boots crossed the threshold of the small break space allotted to members of the Coruscant Guard.

As break spaces went, the one designated for the Coruscant Guard's clone troopers was an embarrassment. Some determined being had managed to cram a table and a handful of chairs inside, but it was a tight fit. If more than a few fully armored troopers went inside at the same time, none of them would get back out without removing some armor to clear the traffic jam. The lights flickered, the faucet leaked, the floor was always sticky, and the stuffy air held a hint of the chemicals that had been stored there years ago. Since then, the previous break space had been renovated into an office for one of the few nat-born commanding officers and this one had been created for the clone troopers.

Still, the smell of caf was stronger than the smell of chemicals most days and the light from a nearby advertisement screen lit the room so brightly that the flickering lights didn't give any of the troopers a migraine anymore. Hound always was a man who liked to see the glass as half-full. Maybe even a little more than half, if that glass was sitting under the dripping faucet.

Thire snorted at Hound's question, leaning back in his chair until gravity threatened to topple him. "Well, boys? Hound wants to know if we're going to 79's this lovely Friday evening. What do we think?"

Thorn glanced around the room, looking unamused by his brother's antics. "We think I'm the only other one here, di'kut."

"Exactly!" Thire said in triumph, obviously determined to ignore his fellow commander. "It's the weekend! Why wouldn't we go to 79's?"

"Because you've finally realized that it's a glorified zoo?" Thorn snapped, tone venomous. "79's is where civvies go to stare at clone troopers so they can feel like they're being daring. In reality, they're being irritating."

Having spoken his piece, Thorn tossed back the last of his cup of caf, always consumed as dark as his mood. Hound shuddered at the thought. Corrie Guard caf was brewed at the approximate concentration of speeder fuel and could eat through duracrete. Only a trooper who hated himself would drink it black.

Thorn always drank it black.

"So you don't want to go?" Hound asked again, sounding heartbroken.

"No, I'll go," Thorn told him. "Zoo or not, 79's still has the cheapest booze on Coruscant that doesn't use poison as a mixer."

"Well, that's the most excited I've heard Thorn get about anything for a week, at least," Thire smirked. "Commander Fox, you want in on this?"

The Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard, having just stepped into the break room to fill his mug with caf, shook his head. "No, I'm on duty tonight. The Clone Rights group has been cleared to march and the Chancellor wants an extra Guard presence. Stone will be stuck here as well, monitoring any new arrivals."

"Ugh," Hound said, summarizing everyone else's point of view. "Well, we'll be thinking of you both, Commander."

Fox lowered the datapad in his hand to shoot a look in Hound's direction. "Sergeant, don't you have that ARF PR stunt tomorrow at 0800?"

Hound shrugged. "Yeah, but I can do both."

"Make sure you don't miss it," Fox ordered sternly. "The last thing I need is to have to report to the Chancellor that you missed a chance to give the GAR a boost in civil opinion."

Hound saluted and Fox turned his attention to the other break room occupants. "Thorn, if you let your stubble get any longer, it'll be considered a beard and subject to facial hair regulations. Thire, sit on the chair like a normal being, would you?"

Thorn nodded and Thire grinned as he let the chair's legs slam onto the floor. Fox rolled his eyes at their antics, refilled his cup of caf, and left the break area. Hound idly wondered how many of the gray hairs appearing at the Head Commander's temples were due to the commanding officer team. Still, the Chancellor had let Fox choose his own team of COs, so there was no one to blame but himself.

"Meet at 2100?" Thire asked. "That's prime time for 79's and there'll be plenty of talent. I'll go ahead and apologize, vode. When you look this good, you automatically get your pick of the females."

Thire brushed a hand back across his hair - meticulously trimmed to maintain the subtle horizontal lines shaved into the otherwise regulation cut - and grinned at the other two. Hound and Thire rolled their eyes, but agreed anyway.

---

Kai I

"Hey, do you guys want to go to 79's tonight?" Kai asked, perched on the desk she was supposed to be sitting behind. She was always restless and neither of the other women blamed her for the odd choice of seat - even though it made inter-desk communication a bit of a pain.

Arkularia - who, for the sake of Kai's sanity, allowed the others to call her 'Ark' - was the first to respond. "79's? The clone bar?"

"Do you want to drink, dance, or find a one-night stand?" Ransom asked from behind her expansive tech setup. "Because there are better places for any of those. Closer, too."

"No, I want to go to 79's," Kai said, kicking up her chin. "And as for what I want… I want all of them. All three options, please and thank you."

"Did you just try to order a night out? Like from a menu?" Ransom asked. From the tone of her voice, Kai had managed to earn a rare smile from her boss. Of course, that was only a guess since Ransom didn't emerge from her den so Kai could verify the expression.

"No… but can you imagine how much easier that would be?" Kai asked in her own defense.

"It would take some of the fun out of it, I think," Ark said slowly.

Kai chucked a wad of flimsi at her friend and co-worker's head, cheering to herself as it connected and bounced off of Ark's white-blonde hair. "I know that, Ark! C'mon guys, do you want to come to 79's with me or not?"

"I'm out," Ransom said immediately, shutting down the projector option on her desk. She was still illuminated by the ambient light from the schematics on her datapad. The cybernetic implants in Ransom's arm gleamed in the blue glow as she dragged a hand over her shaved head. "I have to work late if we have any hope of finishing our next job on time."

"Ark?" Kai asked, not too proud to sound like she was begging.

Ark sighed, pale eyes hopeless in the face of Kai's wheedling. "Fine, I'll go along."

"Yes!"

"Ransom, are you sure you can't come, too?" Ark asked, her voice a bit desperate.

"I really do have to stay and work on this," Ransom apologized, gesturing at her assortment of datapads. "My condolences."

"We're going to a club, not facing a firing squad!" Kai admonished. "Besides, I just want to find someone fun."

"Like that last guy?" Ark asked, squinting a bit as she applied her prodigious memory to her own question. "What was his name?"

"Not sure," Kai admitted. "But he was so much fun! Great tattoos."

"So you are looking for a hookup! I knew it," Ransom crowed.

Ark frowned. "Why a clone trooper? They're never on-planet for long before they have to leave."

"Exactly," Kai said with a wink. "Love 'em and leave 'em."

"Didn't the last one stick around for a while? I thought I remembered seeing him more than a few times…" Ark pondered.

"Hardcase! His name was Hardcase," Ransom remembered. "He came by every day of his leave."

"Strange name," Ark commented.

"Strange guy," Ransom said with a shrug.

"But he was hot," Kai countered, folding a piece of flimsi to look like a tooka. At least it did in her imagination. "And so much fun. I need another someone like him."

"What happened to him?" Ark asked curiously.

Kai would have blushed if she had any shame - too bad for Coruscant that she didn't. Instead, she pouted. "He moved on with a Zeltron who works at GAR headquarters. That's the best place to meet troopers, but they don't give access to civilians unless they have official business."

"Hardcase didn't seem like the type to ghost you out of nowhere," Ransom mused.

"I… may have freaked out about him asking me to be his girlfriend," Kai admitted. "I don't want anything serious, you know? Besides, I'm the one who introduced him to the new girl. She's a sweetheart. He adores her and she's the same about him. Can't be too upset with that."

Ark and Ransom exchanged loaded glances, but Kai had no interest in a therapy session. "Right! So, Ransom, you're still out?"

"I have no interest in coming along and I have work to do here."

"Well, that was almost nice," Kai congratulated. "Ark, it's you and me. When should we go?"

Ark shrugged. "Why don't we just stop there on the way home from work?"

"Are you kidding?" Kai asked, aghast at the idea. "We aren't exactly wearing Senatorial dress, but we're still too professional for a club! No, we need to go home, change, and meet there. How long do you need?"

"I don't know… half an hour?"

"How long do you need to find an outfit that makes sense in a club setting?" Kai rephrased her question.

"Two hours," Ark corrected herself, sounding sheepish.

"That's more like it," Kai said, satisfied. Her look turned wicked as she said, "Now, let's talk about makeup…"

"Are you sure you don't need any help here, Ransom?" Ark asked their boss, her eyes widening with hidden significance.

"No, it's too late!" Kai denied. "Meet me at my apartment and I'll help you. Let's say eight."

Ark glanced back at Ransom, who gave a sympathetic shrug. Ark sighed. "Fine, eight."

---

A/N - Hello, and welcome to yet another Clone Wars-based story! I can't leave these poor guys alone. They deserve so much more than they got! So, you may have noticed that some of the characters are a bit different from the way they are normally portrayed in fan fiction. The first fic I read with the Coruscant Guard had Thire as a happy joking guy and Thorn as a serious doom-and-gloom trooper. I'm coming to realize that is not typical for fanon interpretations, but those characterizations are embedded in my mind. I hope you didn't find this too jarring!

I'm experimenting with a new Game of Thrones-style POV tracking format. Hopefully that will keep things from getting too confusing as we bounce back and forth across eight different POVs! I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but it's just a simple introduction of (most of) the characters.

#Warriors in Red Armor #star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #coruscant guard #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #sergeant hound #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #please reblog

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eleanorbloom · 4 years ago

Text

When You're Ready Ch. 25

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, innuendos and Spanish dirty talk (with proper translations 😂) oh and lots of fluff Rated: T

Taglist: @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @freckles-spangledvampire @mercury84choices @curiousconch @thegreentwin @openheartfanfics

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Chapter 25. 24 Hours

It's a little soon

But I wanna come home to you

It had been forty days since she last put a foot in Edenbrook. Forty-six since the incident.

Memories of that day floored her mind as she was standing in front of Edenbrook Hospital looking for the strength, the bravery to come in.

The trauma about that place wasn't as big as it was in the first days when she couldn't even conceive being alone in a hospital room, worried that something could happen and she would be trapped there alone again; but was still there, leading her to catastrophic thoughts from time to time.

What if something happens again?

Eleanor couldn’t stop that question from popping up in her mind over and over again, but she’d reassure herself, over and over again, that anythingcould happen anywhere. It could've perfectly happened at the airport, on her way to Ohio, on her way back to Massachusetts. On her way to the hospital, even.

Anywhere.

So after a long, deep breath and ignoring her mind trying to trick her for the umpteenth time, she headed toward the entrance.

The hospital inside was with its usual hustle. People in and out at every moment; nurses, doctors, and other professionals deep in their work, some of them recognizing her and stopping to greet her, some others just giving her curious glances when she'd walk by their side.

Despite feeling overwhelmed by the amount of prying eyes and people inquiring about her state, she felt content with being back at Edenbrook. She’d been missing the familiarity of that place.

Banerji was as welcoming as she thought and happy to see her back at the hospital, though he didn't hesitate to tell her she could take more time if she needed. Eleanor thanked him for being so understanding during her time away but assured him that she was ready and therapy would help her in case things take a turn for the worse.

After chatting with Banerji about the hospital and life in general, Eleanor sauntered towards the Diagnostic Office, hoping she’d find Ethan to inform him personally about coming back to work the next day.

When she reached the glass walls, she found Ethan alone, deep in concentration reading something from his computer.

Her heart felt weird at the sight of him. The man she used to be in love with. It seemed almost impossible to think her heart belonged to him two months ago.

“Hello,” she said softly, standing at the entry.

His blue eyes widened by the sudden appearance, but quickly softened into a warm look when he recognized her, “Eleanor, what a surprise,” he said, standing and walking towards her, “How are you?”

“I’m doing better,” she shrugged, and both stared silently, awkwardly, unsure what to do next. But after everything had happened, there was no need to pretend anything, nor accentuate fondness when there wasn’t such or conceal coldness to not expose her feelings.

She wanted to believe they were already past that point, even if they only had two, almost three (normal) days to deal with the aftermaths of the end of them, and forty days apart seemed a good amount of time to do some healing.

So, she simply went for it and gave him a friendly greeting hug. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, so she greeted him just as she greeted her friends, just as Naveen greeted her that morning. Ethan was also her friend, despite everything, and maybe this was a way to show him she’d buried the hatchet after everything had happened between them.

Briefly stunned by the gesture, Ethan returned the embrace patting her gently in the back, "Are you visiting?" He asked while both were taking a seat at the circular table.

“Not really, I came to inform Naveen, and now to you, that I’ll come back to work tomorrow.”

“That’s good to hear. The Team hasn’t been the same without you.”

There was a tint of sadness in his voice and eyes when he said those words. There was more to it than the explicit meaning. It wasn’t just the Team, it was him he hadn't been the same without her, but that information didn’t mean anything to her. Maybe in another time, or another life, that would make her change her mind, would make her quiver and see hope in the hidden messages.

But not now.

At this point in her life, she was completely over him, and head over heels for Bryce Lahela and nothing could change that.

“And I’ve been missing using my brain for more than follow plots in my series,” she teased, trying to conceal the fact that she still could read him like a book, “I suppose I have a lot of journals to catch up with, too.”

Ethan chuckled, seeming a lot lighter than a few seconds ago, “Oh, yes you certainly have to.”

After catching up for an hour with Ethan about the team’s work, Eleanor headed to the cafeteria to have lunch with Bryce and some of her friends.

Late in the afternoon, after cleaning up last night's party and unpacking her suitcase, Eleanor took the T to Bryce's apartment.

There was still one person she needed to talk to.

When Eleanor stood outside the apartment door, loud music was heard inside, and a really passionate voice reciting a rap song with perfect speed and lyrics. Chuckling, she waited until the song was over to knock the door.

“Are you practicing for America’s Got Talent? 'Cause girl, you’re killin' it” she asked when Keiki opened the door, wearing Bryce’s red Stanford hoodie and a messy bun tied over her head.

“Ella!” she sighed before engulfing Eleanor in her arms, “Ohmygod, hi! What a surprise!”

"Hey, Keiks…" Eleanor replied, fighting back the tears. She didn't expect such a warm welcome from her at all, much less another spontaneous hug from her, but she returned it enthusiastically, "Oh, I missed you, kiddo, how are you?"

“I’m doing fine,” she assured, inviting her to come in, “I’m finishing my homework before studying for my history test tomorrow.”

“Woah. Bryce told me you had a test today too.”

As both approached the living room, Keiki grabbed a mix of notebooks, papers with concepts and diagrams, and some flashcards scattered all over the couch and piled them in the coffee table to let Eleanor take a seat beside her, “Yeah, Chemistry. Next week I’ll have my last two exams and I’ll be up to date with my curriculum.”

“Keiki, that’s amazing!” Eleanor congratulated, sitting on the couch, “And really impressive. Doing two months of exams in three weeks it’s a lot, I hope you get to learn well, though.”

“Oh, yeah. I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it, but I’ve got mostly As, so it was totally worth it the hard work.”

“It clearly paid off, you must be so proud! And Bryce too!”

"Yeah, he is, though it annoys me sometimes that he's so… nosy, like, he sits beside me to know what I'm studying, and he starts questioning me, and argh, you know how he is."

“Aww, but he’s trying to help you!”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed, looking a bit conflicted, “My mom never sat beside me to study with me. Never. Only to ask me if I was doing good at school, etc, but she never actually cared about my… learning process, so I guess the whole thing it’s kind of new for me. I know I said I wanted him to show he cares about me, but sometimes it’s like.... too much…”

Eleanor nodded, encouraging her to keep talking. She knew how contradictory her confession was, even Keiki seemed to see it that way, but it was understandable. It wasn't easy to adjust to a new life where she had attention and genuine care, and that amount of worry, considering how independent Keiki was for being a fifteen-year-old, was certainly too much for her.

But she was happy for what that implied. Keiki was openly recognizing Bryce cared about her and was trying to give her as much time as he could, and that was progress compared to what she had felt a month ago.

She also felt happy Keiki still trusted her to share those things with her.

When Bryce arrived home, he was beside himself with happiness for having the two most important people in his life together again, joking with each other as Eleanor was finishing making dinner, and Keiki was setting the table.

He knew Keiki was over with whatever conflict she had with Eleanor, but seeing it materializing was different.

However, Bryce and Eleanor took things slow. She just stayed for dinner and before Keiki went to bed, she returned home to prep for her first day back at work. And the following weeks she didn’t spend more than two nights a week with Bryce to not alter the dynamics Bryce and Keiki were establishing since she started school.

Apart from the whole ‘over-worried Bryce about her studies’ thing, and the typical fights every adult has with a teenager, things ran smoothly between the Lahela siblings.

Both were doing their best to make it work.

Keiki had found a good group of friends at school with whom she used to spend her free time, and who had her back when some classmates tried to bully her when they found out about her family name. The first time it happened, she didn’t let them get under her skin and called them out and stood up for herself instantly, because there was nothing, and no one, who could ruin her peace now that she finally had a place to call home and people to call friends. She was done with the bullying.

One day, though, that attitude turned into suspension because she punched a boy who crossed the line with her, but Bryce, instead of scolding her, congratulated her by inviting her dining out for being so badass.

No one dared to talk about her after that day.

The first day back at work wasn’t easy for Eleanor. Nor the following days. From time to time certain things would trigger her trauma, making her remember painful details about that day, and consequently, cause panic attacks that would force her to lock herself in supply closets until the irrational fear was over. Luckily for her, some of those times happened when Bryce wasn’t in the OR, so he would sit on the floor with her to try to ease her mind or at least distract her until she was feeling good enough to come back to work.

Sometimes it happened out of nowhere, but most of the time it happened when she was walking outside the DT's patient room, or when she saw Danny attending his therapy sessions.

It overwhelmed her to see how weak he still was compared to her and even compared to Rafael, but Danny reassured her that he was doing fine, that he knew recovery would take him some time, but he was thankful for being alive and having another chance.

Sienna was happy with this second chance too.

Therapy helped her a lot, though. It helped her to unload the baggage she'd been carrying for so many years, and to not let her most recent trauma do more harm than it already had done. She was fighting hard to have her life back but to also be able to let all those fears in the past and give Bryce everything he deserved in their relationship.

She wanted to give him everything she once promised.

Between work, therapy, and trying to find ways to save Edenbrook, weeks happened in a blur, and before knowing it, the first days of snow arrived, and with that, the gift of a night of celebration with her friends, the Hopeful Hearts Gala.

“Why the smug smile on your face?” Eleanor asked, her arms locked around Bryce's neck as their bodies swayed to the beat of the music.

“Are you kidding? I’m the luckiest person here, dancing with the most beautiful woman in the whole world,” he said, grasping the fabric of her astonishingly beautiful red gown before lifting a hand to swirl her in one swift motion.

“Aw, mi amor. I have to disagree with you,” she said, placing both hands over his chest, feeling his warmth through the silky fabric of his blue floral button-up shirt, “I am the luckiest for calling the most handsome and loving man in the world my boyfriend, beat that.”

Bryce grinned before biting his lower lip “Okay, that’s really hard to beat, lots of people would kill to have your position.”

“Oh, I know, but you’re worth the fight, though I’d prefer not to fight at all, you know?”

“You don’t have to. I’m yours forever,” he whispered, and not missing a beat, Bryce leaned to brush his lips in her ear and added in a sultry voice, “and I’m counting the seconds until I take this dress off you and I make you mine.”

Eleanor lolled her head to the opposite side reflexively, feeling as a shiver was electrifying her entire body.

More than intoxicated with his innuendo, she turned to him and gave him a suggestive smile, “A couple more rounds with donors, and I’ll be all yours. Well, I am already yours, but I’ll allow you to use your prerogatives on me.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could do fancy dirty talk too.”

“It comes with the dress,” she purred before drawing her face an inch away from his lips, her eyes still fixated on his, “Once you get rid of it... te hablaré sucio como tanto te gusta.” (I’ll talk dirty to you just as you like it.)

“Oh, please stop it,” he growled, pressing her body against his, his now dark eyes gazing hungrily at her cherry lips.

“Cállame,” she challenged, arching a brow and parting her lips invitingly. (Shut me up)

“Gladly.”

Bryce didn’t hesitate a second and captured her lips on his, kissing her with eagerness for a brief two seconds. The place didn’t allow for more, but it was enough to leave her cheeks flushed and her eyes ignited with desire.

“Stop it or I’ll drag you outta here and we won’t get to talk with more donors for the entire night. I mean it.”

“Alright, seré una chica buena,” she said with her best angel face before taking his hand and leading him to a group of philanthropists standing by the drinks table. (I’ll be a good girl).

Suddenly, she felt his hand pinching her waist with deliberate force, “You’re gonna pay for this, Andrea,” he mumbled discreetly in her ear as both were walking between attendees and colleagues with perfect smiles on their faces.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said sweetly, before extending her hand to a posh couple debiting with a glass of champagne in their hands, “That’s precisely the point.”

When Eleanor opened her eyes the next morning, Bryce was already looking at her, his bare arms loosely tangled over her body.

“Good morning,” she said sleepily, tilting her head to kiss him.

“Morning gorgeous, how did you sleep?”

“Amazing, but…” A yawn interrupted her words, making her stretch between his arms, “I wouldn’t mind staying with you for another three hours.”

“Mmmmh, me neither,” he said softly, smiling pensively before embracing her.

After a minute of silence, Eleanor narrowed her eyes, stranged by how oddly quiet he was that morning. Bryce normally was noisy and chatty rather than pensive, much more considering the amazing and well-spent night they just had.

“Is something the matter? You’re kinda quiet this morning.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Love…” she stared at him, serious, waiting for his answer.

Bryce looked at her silently for a second, stroking her hair before answering, “I was thinking… Ok, I know this might be too much but I…”

Yeah, something was definitely happening because Bryce didn’t use to babble.

“I watched you sleeping for a while, you know? And I couldn't help but think how beautiful it would be to wake up like this every morning.”

She felt her chest swelling with a very well-known warmth at his words and the yearning smile he gave her.

“Oh, I see” she sighed, grinning nervously at him.

“And go to sleep every night with you by my side…” he continued, his hand now resting over her face, his thumb caressing her cheek, “And go to work together and… just live with you, babe.”

And her stomach fluttered with the images that started forming in her mind with every idea he was disclosing, and her whole body felt like melting, melting with that familiar warmth Bryce used to cause on her. With wonder.

As she wasn’t able to say a word, Bryce's smile faltered instantly, “Oh, babe, I’m sorry, it was just an idea, I didn't mean t-”

She shook her head, “It’s not that, I’d love to live with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that would be… god, perfect.”

“Then why don't we do it? I spoke to my landlord the other day because I wanna move to a bigger apartment with Keiki, and he let me terminate my lease early if I move between Christmas and New Year… ”

“Bryce… ”

She didn't know what to say. She loved the idea but a part of her was terrified about it. It terrified her she could screw it up again with Keiki. Or with Bryce.

But she knew she had to be braver than that. She’d been working on that in therapy and this was her first test.

“This could be our chance...” he persuaded, careful not to sound too insistent.

“Love, it’s not that simple.”

“Babe, if you don't want to do this just tell me, I won’t get mad because you don't feel ready.” His tone was earnest and there was no doubt he meant it.

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to, I do, but there are a lot of things we should consider before making that decision. The most important of all, Keiki. Have you even asked her what she thinks about this?”

He shook his head.

“Then you should start there. It took you a long way to get along with her, and making a decision like this without asking her could really damage her trust in you.”

"Mmm, you're right. Not because everything is okay now, it means she'll be okay with you moving in."

“Exactly. But even if she agrees, don’t you think it’s kind of… weird that we move together considering Edenbrook is closing and probably we’ll have to finish our residencies somewhere else, probably in different cities?”

Bryce furrowed his lips, thinking, “Not really? I plan to stay in the area, mostly for Keiki. I wouldn't like to force her to start over again in a new place and school. Salomon Kenmore and Mass Gen have great surgical programs so I’ll send my applications there as my first options. And… well, you told me the other day you were planning to apply to Mass Gen and BWH because those were your second and third options if you hadn't got admitted to Edenbrook. ”

“It's true. But what if I'm not accepted? If I end up, I don't know, in New York, or Cleveland?”

"Who cares? I mean, of course, it would be sad if we had to go to different cities, but is it really a reason to not take the chance now? We'd still have full five or six months ahead of us. Whether we end up here or not, we could enjoy this time while we can, and if in the end we both stay in Boston, much better."

Bryce was right. It didn't make sense worrying about something that wouldn't happen in several months when they had the chance now to live together for at least five months. All this, in the hypothetical case Keiki would agree to Eleanor moving with them.

“You’re right. It’s better five, six months than nothing.”

“Exactly, it’s making the most of our time together.”

Eleanor bit her lip, her eyes sparkling with excitement as new ideas started popping in her mind, unleashing all kind feelings and plans, "Awww, that would be so amazing! Having breakfast together before going to work, making groceries list, planning menus for the week…"

“And fighting who does the dishes or cleans the bathroom,” Bryce added, with the same excited tone Eleanor was using.

“Oh, and I’d yell at you every morning because you’re taking too much time in the shower.”

“And I would yell at you that you could join me instead of complaining.”

“But you can’t do that! Your sister’s here!”

“But it’s just a shower!”

“We both know it’s not just a shower, Bryce Lahela.”

“Damn, that’s true, but if we move to a bigger apartment with an ensuite bathroom,” Bryce gave her a mischievous smile, pressing her tightly against his warm body, “She wouldn’t even notice.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, suppressing the smirk forming on her lips at his insinuation, “You’re impossible.”

Ignoring her feigned glare, he continued, “And we’d have dinner the three of us every night, and we’d brush our teeth together before going to sleep, and then you’d snuggle up to me every time you have cold feet…”

“My love...”

The sole idea was enough for her to say yes, but she knew, she knew she had to think about it seriously, even if Keiki agreed. Moving together carried a lot of responsibilities, with their relationship and also with Keiki, so she couldn't make the decision lightly.

“I’ll talk to Keiki about this,” he assured as he saw the mix of hope and concern in her eyes.

“And I’ll think about it and… probably start my applications to secure a spot here in Boston.”

“Deal.”

They sealed the agreement with a soft, lingering kiss before getting up to start the day.

The proposal kept ringing in her head for several days. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to move in with him, but she knew there were a lot of obstacles to make that come true.

Keiki was one, but also the uncertain future about where she’d be next year. But even without the idea of moving in with Bryce, it was about time she did something about her residency.

She started looking for places besides her two first options. New York and Baltimore had good programs too so those could go in third and fourth place considering closeness with Boston. Cleveland was another, but mostly because it was in Ohio.

Once she had a secure list of hospitals, she decided to discuss her options with Ethan and see if he could write a recommendation letter to incorporate in her application.

However, part of her was worried he would question her choices, probably the fact that her first two options were unmovable partly because she wanted to stay close to Bryce and Keiki.

With the whole hospital working for the free clinic, it was hard to find free time, so as soon as she saw Ethan was taking a break to have lunch, she followed him to his office and explained the situation.

“Your list of preferences is fine in my opinion,” Ethan said after both discussed the programs she had chosen, “but I don't understand why you're so adamant with Mass Gen and Brigham in the first places. They are great, but John Hopkins has a better Diagnostics Department.”

“I know, but I'm trying to prioritize options that let me stay in the city. Good options. Mass Gen is second nationwide.”

Ethan nodded, his gaze pensive. He was fighting hard the urge to ask further, but he did it anyway, “Are you doing this for Lahela? Because I assume he’s planning to stay in the area for his sister.”

Eleanor was expecting the question, but that didn't make her feel any less startled. She knew that 80% of her decision was professional, that she chose those places because they were her options two years ago, and still were one of the best options in the rankings, but for a moment, his words made her feel like she was actually making it just for Bryce.

Was that inherently wrong? Probably so, but she knew herself enough to tell she'd never make a professional decision onlythinking about someone else.

“I’m not, but what if I was?” she asked, trying to placate her defiant tone.

“I just want to make sure you're making the choice that's best for you.”

Eleanor begged internally he wasn’t going to come with his paternalistic attitude as always.

“And this is, Ethan. As I said, I came up with my first two options because those were the places I would've gone if I hadn't been accepted here. But yes, I also have personal reasons for wanting to stay here. Bryce and I are considering moving in together, so it would be ideal if we stayed in the same city.”

Ethan looked baffled for a brief second. At the next, he was the same stoic Ethan she knew.

“If you're sure that's the best for you, I support your decision.”

But she could tell it was hard for him to say those words.

“You really mean that?”

He sighed.

"Look, if I have to be honest, I don't agree with you at all. Personally, I would never let anyone or anything interfere in my career, so my choices would be different from what you made…"

“But that's you…”

“Exactly, that's me, so it doesn't matter what I think. What matters is what you want, and if you're telling me this is important to you, that these are the best options to you, I have to respect that.”

Eleanor was agape. That was something Eleanor would've never seen it coming in a million years.

Ethan chuckled, amused by her reaction, “I know I spent a lot of time questioning your decisions, both professional and personal, but that time is over. As a colleague and friend, I can tell you're doing what's best for you, so I cannot do anything but support you.”

Yeah, it seemed the time apart, and all the time they had been spending since her returning had done something to mend their relationship. Three months ago Ethan wouldn’t have hesitated for a second to question and criticize her decisions and would’ve mocked her for taking Bryce into consideration, but instead, and for the first time, she was surprised in a goodway by Ethan.

"Thank you, Ethan, it makes me really happy knowing you're on my side."

“You’re welcome, Eleanor.”

Eleanor left his office, happy and more sure than ever about her decision.

When she was expecting the worst, ready to set boundaries and fight for her decision- even if she knew she didn't owe him any explanations about her decisions-, Ethan was surprising her with empathy and support.

They'd come a long way and finally, they were finding the balance.

A couple days later, the morning of her birthday, Eleanor was clocking out after a long shift. The idea of going home and having a nap before getting ready for her lunch date with Bryce was the only thing on her mind.

However, as soon as she got out of the hospital, the figure of a familiar teenager approaching made her stop in her tracks.

Keiki.

Eleanor almost didn't recognize her as her face was hidden under a light-blue parka and a white scarf tied around her neck. It was freezing outside.

“Keiks? Hey! What are you doing here? Bryce isn’t working today.”

“I know, I came to see you actually. Happy birthday!”

"Oh my god, Keikiii! You're too sweet! Thank you!" she squealed as Keiki was crushing her with a warm hug. "Aw, you might not want to hear this but you're almost as much of a good hugger as your brother."

Keiki blushed, “As long as you don't tell him, it's okay.”

“It'll be our little secret.”

“Great, now come with me, I have a surprise for you,” she said in a confidential tone before taking her hand and leading her to the parking lot.

“A surprise?”

“Yes, but it’ll take us a while to get there, so you have to be patient.”

After a short walk, they found Bryce waiting for them in the car. As soon as Eleanor sat shotgun, Bryce wrapped her in his arms instantly, peppering her with kisses over her lips and cheeks and down her jaw, “There's my birthday girl! Happy birthday again, beautiful.”

“Mmmh, you’re in the sweetest Goldie mode today, uh? I love it.”

“Hope this day is as good as you dreamed.”

“Well, with Keiki's surprise visit and the surprise that's coming, I'm sure it will be!”

Bryce stared at her silently for a moment, his gaze charged with hope and something hidden she couldn't quite decipher, but it made her more excited about the surprise.

Suddenly, the door of the back seat opened, “Are you two done? I’m freezing out here.”

“No, but you can cover your eyes if you can’t stand watching some innocent kisses,” Bryce teased, kissing Eleanor once again.

“I’ve seen more than enough between you two too many times.”

“It’s not like you’d get a disease if you watch us, you know?”

“Bryce!” Eleanor giggled, “Leave her alone! We are done, Keiks. Get in here! I cannot wait to see my surprise.”

After a ten minutes ride by the snowy streets of Boston, Keiki tied her white scarf around Eleanor’s head, covering her eyes as Bryce started slowing down the speed, “Okay, we’re closer to your surprise.”

“Oh man, I’m getting nervous now.”

“Don’t be, it’s safe and I’m sure you’ll like it,” Keiki assured softly, a tone she rarely used, as she helped her get out of the car.

As they began walking, Eleanor hooked her arm around Keiki's so she could lead her to their destination. Keiki didn't let her go any second, guiding her through the entry of a -she guessed- building, helping her to get into and out of the elevator, and then leading her through a hallway until a door closed behind them. Seconds later, Keiki untied the scarf.

“Surprise!”

After trying to adjust her eyes to the bright light, Eleanor found herself and Keiki alone in an empty room. It was an empty apartment, actually. White immaculate walls, big windows, a new, shiny kitchen, and a spacious living room.

“Keiki, wha...?”

The teenager bit her lower lip as she started to shorten the distance between Eleanor and her, “Bryce talked to me the other day about the idea of you moving in with us. I must confess at first I didn’t like the idea, thinking I’d feel the same I felt… well, you know when.”

Eleanor nodded silently.

“But then I thought… There’s nothing wrong with you, or with me, or with Bryce. We only had problems communicating, and thanks to you and the way you’ve cared about Bryce and me, we could solve those problems and now we’re both trying to make this work.”

“I’m glad you can see it that way now.”

“I know we never talked about it after what happened, but… I wanna apologize for being so unfair with you, for kind of blaming you when it wasn't your fault, and…”

Eleanor could sense Keiki it wasn't easy for her to speak so earnestly, but it was clear she meant every word and every feeling.

She breathed in deeply.

“And at the same time, I wanna thank you for always taking care of me. For always taking me into consideration and trying to do what's best for me, since the first day we met. You… You've become like a sister to me, Ella, the sister I didn't know I wanted, so thank you for being there for me.”

“Oh, Keiki, please, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Sorry not sorry,” she teased, her cheeks profusely blushed.

Her heart was so warm, she thought it would melt any second. And she was so happy, she thought she could fly any instant.

“Keiks… I had no idea you feel that way about me,” Eleanor hugged her, “Thank you for telling me.”

"Everything is true. I know I'm not the kind of person who says these things, but I really mean it. And I'd be so happy if you move in with us. And of course, my brother would be happy too. The happiest, actually."

Eleanor grinned broadly, her eyes glistening with joy. “You're like a sister to me too”, she confessed, throwing her arms around her again.

As if he knew it was the right time to get in, Bryce opened the door, and poked his head inside, “Can I come in now?”

“Yeah, weirdo, come in,” Keiki allowed, as Eleanor freed her from her embrace.

After drying her tears of joy with the back of her hand, Eleanor turned to Bryce, who was looking at her, expectantly.

“So, what do you think? I hope you don't mind spending the morning of your birthday looking for the perfect apartment to move in.”

Eleanor looked at Bryce, his eyes charged with hope and possibility. It was a possibility what she couldn't read early that morning. But she could now because her head and her heart were full of possibilities too, full of plans and a beautiful, bright future together with Bryce and Keiki.

And when she turned to Keiki, her smile was welcoming and her eyes sparkling with the same possibility. For once in her life, she wasn't hiding any of her emotions.

She thought about the things that had been holding her back. Right there, there was none.

Her heart wanted this. And she hadn’t realized how much she wanted it until that moment.

She was ready.

Ready to fully commit and take this new step with Bryce.

Ready to take this new responsibility with Keiki and try to give her the love and care she'd been lacking her whole life.

Ready to be part of this pretty little family.

Feeling an outburst of joy, Eleanor ran and clung to Bryce to smooch him sweetly, “I love it! I love it, I love it! And I love you!”

Bryce encircled his arms around her to lift her from the floor, his gaze devastatingly tender, “And I adore you, baby,” he whispered.

She rested her forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his breath before kissing him one last time. This was a moment she was sure she’d remember her whole life.

“Fun fact number one about domestic Eleanor,” Bryce said once Eleanor’s feet were back on the floor, “She’s actually a koala.”

Keiki, who was looking at the windows resisting the urge to laugh at the clingy scene, turned to her brother, “Oh, just as you’re a Goldie?" she retorted, mischievously.

“Exactly, Keiks! Exactly!” Eleanor said, chortling at the remark.

Grinning, Bryce approached his sister and rested an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side “Keiki needs a pet name.”

“Oh, no, no, no no, you leave me out of this,” the girl said, trying to get rid of her brother’s grip, to no avail.

“I agree with Bryce. You cannot be the only one in this family without a pet name.”

Keiki’s eyes widened at the mention of the word family. Forgetting completely the annoyed act, she smirked fondly at her and then to Bryce, realizing what she had in front of her.

Her family.

“Keiki is totally a cat,” Bryce stated seconds later, “She likes to be left alone, and only likes love when she asks for it, but not when you give it to her, and she hates me, just as cats hate dogs.”

“Oh my god yes! You'll be Kitty, then!”

“No, no way you’re gonna call me Kitty, anything but that,” she refused, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Grumpy Cat then.”

Eleanor cackled, and even Keiki couldn’t help the laugh.

“Love, Grumpy Cat? She’s not that grumpy.”

“If Bryce’s around, I am. So, as you'll only call me that way when we’re at home, it will totally suit me. Anything is better than Kitty at this point.”

"Grumpy Cat, Koala, and Goldie, quite the zoo, uh? Does this apartment allow animals?" Bryce asked.

“Bryce, don’t start with your dad jokes already!” Keiki scoffed, finally freed from Bryce’s arms, and sauntered towards one of the bedrooms, leaving Eleanor and Bryce alone in the empty living room.

Sharing a hopeful smile, Bryce took a few steps towards her and rested his hands over her hips, “Did you like the surprise? I hope this isn’t forcing you to make a decision.”

Eleanor encircled her arms around his neck, thoughtful.

“No, no, love, it was perfect. I’m actually… still a bit incredulous about what Keiki said and… well, that she agreed.”

“There's no way she wouldn't feel that way about you, babe. You've been so supportive and just… good and caring with her.”

“She's a good kiddo too, a girl that has been through a lot and didn't deserve any of what she had to live.”

“Lucky for her, her brother's girlfriend has the biggest, warmest heart this planet has ever seen, so she'll get all the love she deserves.”

Eleanor gave him a sweet peck on the lips before looking softly at him, eyes conveying nothing but adoration.

“Just as you will.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, my love. Every morning and every night of every day.”

-----

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. With the mess book 3 has been, this kind of fluff has been really therapeutic to write. Even the bit with Ethan helped me to recalibrate, because he's been insufferable in this book. Luckily, here I could portray him more as he actually is.

A big hug to everyone of you, and thanks again for reading ❤️

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #playchoices #open heart #choices stories you play #oh choices #open heart choices #oph fic #open heart fanfic #open heart fics

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anxietysroomsupport · 3 years ago

Note

Hypermobile anon here. First, thank you so much. It's just nice to know there's someone here for me. And to give a little more info, I have a serious problem where if I'm not currently in pain. I don't remember how bad it was. I know everybody does this, but my brain literally checked out as I was going to bed recently and I fell on the floor. I nearly forgot to tell my physical therapist.about it because it didn't really hurt. So, I can't do the pain scale very well, and I never remember (1/2)

(2/2) It just makes it sort of hard for pain relief when I don't know I'm going to need it and don't have the energy when I do. Also, on the vitamin subject, I know that I've had vitamin d issues before (bad heat exhaustion and allergy scares = going outside less), bad enough that I was close to being diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm not sure about the others, but I do know I'm not amazing healthy, so? I take calcium pills for the vitamin d, though. Again, thank you guys for all your help.

We just got a bill from my PT place that says we owe money that we can't pay. They told us up front how much it would be with our insurance, and my mom's been paying each time, but it says we owe 177 dollars. Sure, it's not a lot, but we're not rich and trying to send a sibling to college. If we can't get this sorted out. I can't just not go. 10 exercises I can do at home and 5 appointments is not enough to help a chronic disorder. I cant focus and I have practice in 30 mins. -Hypermobility anon

Same day but later when I'm feeling a little better (my director was very supportive though so that's nice), I'd seen the letter and heard my parents talking a bit, but my mom told be as we got to school for rehearsal about PT. I got upset, and I felt bad because I could tell she felt bad because she didn't expect me to be upset, and in the heat of the moment I said "chronic illness" in front of my mom for the first time. She loudly (not quite yelling) (1/?) - Hypermobility anon

said to me "That is the most self-pitying thing I've ever heard. Chronic illnesses are like cancer". Sure, I probably should've said disorder and not illness, but I'm scientifically right. Then I said "It is, it's chronic pain, I am always in pain" and she said "Well then clearly PT isn't helping anyway" - I??? When I went in after 15 minutes after another girl, since we were both there for an hour and a half, I decided to stop trying too much to hide my crying (useful masks) (2/?) -HSD anon

since the other girl was in the hall to eat, and when I managed to explain to the director, she was understanding and nice, and when I said chronic, she said that I should never have to live with that, especially at my age. And when I mentioned not being able to sing at that moment from my crying, she pointed out how I was singing an empowering song that was about standing against the bad stuff in life, and I was perfect for it. I know my mom was just mad, but it just drained me.

Sorry I keep sending asks so often, I just feel like telling someone this. I decided to put 'zebra' in my bio. It's a thing that people with EDS and HSD sometimes like to call themselves. I like it, so even though I just have my name and pronouns, plus a random joke, in my bio, I added it. It just feels like a step in the right direction to remembering that I don't need google to tell me I'm dealing with this every 5 minutes. Accepting it, I guess. :) -HSD anon

My sleep schedule just keeps getting worse and I think it's my ADHD combined busy days and pain but I just never want to sleep anymore. I can't, I don't want to, and it hurts physically and mentally to just lie there and see if I can fall asleep. 80% sure my circadian rhythm changed to sleep at about 2 am but I get up at 7 and have a chronic disorder that's getting worse because of this I *need sleep*. And I'm so scared I'll mess up, want to make a side blog for it but want to make one (1/2)

for something happy first because I always figured that if I had side blogs they would be ask blogs or for fandoms or whatever. But I got a little better at not caring what other people think, so I haven't really needed one for fandom. But I looked through the tag and felt so comforted by some of the stuff that I just think it would help me. Maybe I'm just extra bad tonight because I went outside but also talked about it a fair amount with a friend I hadn't seen recently who didn't know. -HSD

I wanna talk to my physical therapist about hip braces because I tried a knee one we have and it honestly helps, but my hips are worst so I wanna see if it would help, but they're pretty expensive. It's hard to find dual hip braces, from what I've seen in my research, and even though one more than the other, both cause me issues. Idk, I'm conflicted, because it could help but is it worth all the effort? Also, even if it's under clothing it's still physical evidence (1/2) -HSD anon

(2/2) of my "invisible" disorder. Also, stopping exercises for a few days because of not feeling well from my covid shot reminded me of just how much time I spend on them, so it's another thing to deal with this. . . Idk, sometimes I just wonder if it would be better to just deal with it. I still have pain anyway, though it might be a little better. Less often, maybe? I don't really remember. It's not stressing at the front of my mind all the time, but the back of it. I'm just conflicted. -HSD

HSD anon here, idk if I mentioned it in an ask already, but recently I had a small breakdown because I was watching something where a character was in a car accident, as was trying to push through having trouble walking even with a hip brace. After a minute, I registered it and just thought "That could be my future". My joints had already been acting up and then they got worse, so I don't know if it was cause and effect? But I don't exactly know what to call it other than a trigger. (1/2)

Physical and emotional effect, at least I'm assuming on physical because I've had a bad reaction to something similar before, but like, I don't have trauma, I think it's more fear of the future. And I don't want to use trigger incorrectly, it's insensitive to those who actually have triggers. I'm just so confused.

Forgot to sign the last ask with 2/2 and HSD, whoops.

Hfnsiwk I'm not ready to walk into PT tomorrow and say that I don't think months of PT have been helping but I have no way to be completely sure because for all I know it's the weather since this is the first year I've known/it's been noticeable. Maybe it's just change, I don't know, but it just feels like such a waste of time if it really didn't help. Plus, I'd stop, and while that'd be great, I do enjoy being stronger, even if it didn't help pain. I have 12 hours and a bad pain day idek. -HSD

Hi Hypermobility Anon,

I think I found all your asks and got them in the correct order. And found your last ask!

I’m so glad you kept writing in. I think you should go ahead and make your side blog - you definitely have enough material for it. Wanting to make a happy side blog also is a great goal to have, but if you don’t know what it will be yet, don’t let that prevent you from doing something you know you want to do and that will probably help you.

You are dealing with So. Much. Your mom especially sounds like she just is not ready to accept the situation. It’s not self-pity to state your actual conditions. It’s just reality.

Forgetting about pain is normal, and really all you can do is try to write it down or make some kind of note about it in the moment or immediately after, so you can refer to it later. Maybe you can track your pain events in your phone notes.

I think your idea to add “zebra” to your bio is a good one, this is part of your life and just something you have to deal with. It sounds like you’re finding a community for this.

Sleep schedules are tricky, and feeling like you desperately need to sleep can make it so stressful that it starts a vicious little cycle. Some strategies to get around this are First, remember that just resting is okay and helpful too, even if you don’t fall asleep. Letting your body lay there to rest is good for you.

Second, if you’ve spent several minutes laying down without falling asleep, its okay to get up and walk around, or any small light exercise that’s comfortable for you. The goal with this one is to get out of the bed for a bit. It will help your brain to re-learn that the bed is for sleeping only, not for laying awake. That association can help signal to your brain to start its sleep-process when you get into bed at night.

Third, it’s really common to have a changing circadian rhythm during your teens and twenties. That’s just a thing that happens and you can’t do much about it, so just try not to worry too much. Sleep when it feels right and when you can, instead of trying to force yourself to sleep when you’re “supposed” to.

If hip braces would help you, you should definitely at least mention it to your physical therapist. You might research online for any used ones as well. A physical sign that you have pain can have good and bad consequences, but I think the good consequence of being in less pain far outweighs any others.

The triggering event you described is not so much a trigger as it is just a genuinely really upsetting situation. You related really strongly to the character you were watching, because they’re dealing with similar problems to you, and to problems you could have in the future. It’s a lot to process. But while you could potentially be in a car accident, remember that television is made to dramatize events and probably made it seem a lot more difficult and scary than it really would be.

Since we know you sometimes forget your pain, it’s safe to say that the exercises are helping you manage it, and you say that they’ve made you stronger in general. Those are good things, and I would recommend you continue the exercises you can do on your own even if you end of ending your physical therapy sessions. We don’t know yet if your pain might have gotten even worse without therapy. You’ll have to find that out on your own if you stop exercising, and then decide whether it’s more worth it to you to continue exercising or to live with the pain. Whichever you choose, it’s Your choice, Your body. Take care of yourself. <3

-bun

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

@theghostof-myndi I'm so sorry this has taken such a long time to write! I hope it was worth the wait, though!💛💛💛

Are You Paid To Say That?

Kevin Richter (Trapped In Silence) x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, mental illness/challenges

A/N: Im really sorry if this isn't as good as you were expecting, I find the characters quite difficult to write, but I've tried my best. I wasn't really too sure where to take this, so I hope thinks ok.💛💛

Masterlist

"How're things going with Kevin?" I inquire as I walk with Jennifer out of the building, pulling my coat tighter around my body as the icy winter air surrounds us, biting at my heated skin.

"Well, I thought they were going well, but he had another outburst today, so I think we might've been set back a bit." The shrink admits to me, adjusting the box in her arms, making the bits and bobs inside clatter against each other.

"Another outburst? How come?" I frown a bit, knowing that this particular patient can be violent at the best of times, concerned now for the older woman's safety.

"I'm not entirely sure this time. We were talking about meeting more people his age, when he mentioned something about seeing a girl around here...hang on, how old are you?" She asks, looking over at me curiously.

Lifting an eyebrow, I quickly respond.

"I'm seventeen."

Realisation seems to dawn on her face as she hears this, knowing that there are, in fact, no other younger workers in the institute, and definetly none that work with the more challenging patients.

"What?" I question when she continues to start at me in amazement.

"I think he was talking about you, (Y/n)." Jennifer reveals, frowning to herself as if thinking something over in her head.

"About me? He doesn't even know who I am, and I don't think he's ever seen me before." I protest, thinking back to the fragile, highly volatile boy currently residing in the Quiet Room.

"Maybe, but the description he gave matches you pretty well." She informs me, smiling gently at the look of genuine shock on my face, "I'll ask him more about it tomorrow."

"Ok, thank you." I respond, not knowing quite how to react to this information, waving a little as she walks off to her car, leaving me standing in the cold to mull over what I've heard.

Jennifer's hurried footsteps echo through the corridor as she approaches me, eyes intent on me, clearly needing to say something to me, prompting me to break off the conversation with the security guard I was having so that I can greet her. When she sees this, she speeds up a bit, hair blowing past her face with an air of importance.

"I was right, (Y/n), it is you that he meant." She blurts out as she reaches me, eyes filling with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy as she regards me.

"What do you mean? Who are we talking about?" I ask her, though I have a feeling I know where this is going.

"Kevin. I showed him a picture of you and he took it from me. He seemed pretty attached to it, and went ballistic when I asked him for it back." She informs me, leading me away from our original spot, back the way she came.

"Kevin? Are you sure? I might just look like someone he knows." I try to reason, feeling a dull sense of fear as she drags me down the corridor, my eyes wide at the idea of going to see the troubled boy.

"Oh, I don't think so, (Y/n). He's drawn out pictures of everyone he want to remember, and I've spoken to the remaining members of his family: there is no way you just remind him of someone. I've been working with him for a while now, I know his habits." She clarifies, leading me down a more secluded corridor, towards the main office, at which point my fear fades into curiosity.

"Are you sure?" I ask one last time, looking away guiltily when she sends me a pointed glance, "Sorry, you know better than I do. Where are we going?"

"Right here." She gestures with a smile to the door we've stopped outside of, knocking just below the sign determining the owner of the room: the head of the institute.

Eyeing her curiously, I remain silent as we wait for him to respond, following her hesitantly when his voice sounds from behind the door. Respectfully, I stand just by the door as she goes inside completely, waiting there as she speaks with Dr Tomlinson, staying quiet as I let the older members talk with each other.

"Jennifer? What do you need?" The doctor greets her, sending a cursory glance at me, before returning his eyes to her.

"I want someone to help me with Kevin's case." She states, excitement creeping into her voice at the thought, clearly eager to keep up with the therapy.

"You do?" Dr Tomlinson looks surprised, eyes widening at her words, my own quickly fixing on the back of Jennifer's head.

"I do. I think it could really help him socialise better, and he'd get to speak to someone other than me for once." She nods enthusiastically, smiling to herself, as if aware of somehow we're not at liberty to know.

"Ok. I guess I can ask around, though I doubt many people are rave enough-" The doctor starts, only to be cut off by Jennifer, who is shaking her head at his words.

"No, don't worry about that. I already have someone in mind." Confusion and curiosity flood me at this, my mind instantly trying configure out who she could be talking about.

"Oh? And who is that?"

"Well, it's (Y/n) of course."

It takes everything I have not to faint.

"Don't worry, (Y/n), you'll be fine. He's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be." Jennifer reassures me as we get ready to enter the therapy room.

Trembling in nerves, I shift from foot to foot as I think through what I'm about to do, well aware that this is only the second case I've ever worked on, and that he doesn't have the greatest reputation. On our way over, Jennifer had given me a rundown of what she knows of his backstory and old living conditions, explaining that she had managed to get him to talk and communicate, but also that he is highly volatile at times, my trepidation and dread just building up the closer we get to the room. Now that we're here, a cold sweat has broken out over my forehead and skin.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just haven't really done this too often." I confess, feeling it important she know that I'm not an experienced worker here, reminding her that I'm only a volunteer who helps out here and there.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that." She frowns, reconsidering as she recalls this, "If you don't feel ready, you don't have to come in. I'm not going to make you."

Taking a deep breath, I decline her offer, biting my lip as I then follow her into the room.

My eyes quickly find the hunched figure in the corner, his messy hair matted and dishevelled, skin pale around his face except under his eyes, where deep purple bags have formed, though the blue-green irises that briefly flick up to greet us are sharp and probing as anything, homing in on my presence instantly. His muscles go rigid, eyes remaining fixed on me even as Jennifer and I move furher into the room. Awkwardly, I hold eye contact for a few seconds, before dropping my gaze with a blush covering my cheeks.

"Good morning, Kevin. I brought along someone to help us with today's session, that ok? This is (Y/n), the girl in the photograph I gave you a week back." Jennifer introduces us, setting the box of items on the table in the centre as I gingerly step forwards, looking up again.

"Hi, Kevin. It's nice to meet you." I say to him, not expecting anything back as he keeps staring at me, only to feel slight fear when he suddenly surges to his feet, scrambling over to the table. Once there, he grabs Jennifer's box and starts rooting around in it, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pencil seconds later, his movements erratic and rushed. I watch in fascination as he seats himself and starts drawing something, expecting us to do the same.

Looking at each other, Jennifer and I do the same thing, a brief flare of surprise lighting inside me as Kevin moves to sit directly opposite me, rather than across from me like he was before. Quietly, I pick up a pen and paper and start sketching, listening to Jennifer as she makes conversation, answering the correct questions and interacting where necessary.

The hour passes quickly, by which point I've managed to finish the drawing I started, sitting back to look at it, before noticing that Kevin is, in fact, also watching me, eyes flicking downwards towards the sheet of paper, almost as if in questioning. With a smile, I push it over the table towards him, offering the drawing to him with little confidence. He picks it up off the table, holding it up so he can see it properly, finger tracing one of the lines, folding it and sticking it in his breastpocket without a second thought.

"Hey, Kevin. That's not yours to take." Jennifer reminds him, looking at me apologetically.

"Oh no, it's fine. You can keep it." I assure her, addressing the last part to him.

He nods at me, not making eye contact.

A few months on, and Kevin and I have actually managed a conversation, the boy no longer too shy or distrusting of me, feeling mostly comfortable around me when in therapy. Jennifer has yet to leave me alone with him, thankfully, though I've overheard her talking to Dr Tomlinson about Kevin requesting for me to have a session alone with him, something which I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with.

Even now, as we read through another of Jennifer's books, it surprises me when he shuffles over to sit beside me, his body incredibly close to mine, as if with the intention of touching each other, but not quite doing so yet. I have a copy of the book open in my lap, giving him a perfect view of the text, as well as my crotch, which draws a small squeak out of me when he goes to turn the page for me, his fingers gently brushing against my jeans, his hand retracting as quickly as I sink back into the seat, neither of us saying anything.

But even after this, it takes a good two months more for Jennifer to finally decide that I'll be safe on my own with him, as long as there are guards outside, and either Dr Tomlinson or herself nearby to help out in case anything goes wrong. At first, I'm sceptical, but eventually I realise that my presence in the room seems to be what keeps him calm and collected, meaning I'm the perfect candidate to look after him alone.

I was wrong to be worried.

A soon as I step into the room, Kevin has stepped up to me with a broad smile on his face, soemthing which always makes me happy to see, making me smile back at him as he eagerly leads me to a place on the floor in the corner, where he sits me down. Taking his place beside me, he rummages around in the breast pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a dog-eared piece of folded paper, silently handing it to me. Opening it, I feel my jaw drop at the sight of it: it's a portrait. Every aspect is drawn perfectly, giving it it's realistic quality, though it does surprise me that he'd draw me of all people, seeing as he knows Jennifer much better. In my head, I remember what she said about him drawing pictures of everyone he cares for.

"This is amazing, Kevin! Is it for me?"

He nods, a smile crossing his face as he shuffles closer, pressing the side of his body against mine.

'Thank you. I really appreciate this." I thank him, starting when I suddenly feel his cold fingers brush against mine. Absentmindedly, they trace their way into my palm, interlocking our fingers together as he moves ever closer. Smiling, I lean back furher and pat my chest, signalling for him to lay there, which he is only too happy to do, his arms wrapping tightly around me, face buried into my midriff as he holds me close to himself.

"I have a crush on you." He suddenly states, voice muffled through my shirt.

For a moment, I don't know what to say, shocked that he feels this way about me.

"Jenny said I should tell you." He testifies, snuggling closer, before pulling back slightly to nose at the bottom of my jaw.

"You have a crush on me?" I ask once more, biting my lip when he assents, "That's helpful, beacuse I have a crush on you, too." I decide just to spit it out, looking to him for a reaction.

"Really? You actually like me? Or are you just being paid to say that?"

"Kevin, I'm a volunteer. I don't get paid at all.

"So, you actually mean it?"

"I do."

#trapped in silence #kiefer sutherland #Kevin Richter #Kevin #request #ask #answer

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crqstalite · 4 years ago

Note

From the prompt list? I'm sending in something simple with will, hopefully, just go in any direction you want. And that's "Always." For whichever pairing you wish :)

posting this before i chicken out, because i’ve been at this for like eight hours already lol. trying my hand at a little shakarian [petrakarian, in this case], and there’s a sprinkle of happiness if you squint ;)

edit: i’ve also never written garrus before honestly. definitely tried my best but i’m sure there are mistakes in there somewhere. regardless, happy to provide.

pairing: brione petrakis/garrus vakarian. word count: 2,611

She's putting it off. Leaving, as it was.

Honestly, she doesn't know why. Her bags are all packed, her dress blues are pressed and folded on the cot next to her. Her datapad has been prepped to send all of her reports straight to Alliance Command. Yet she's left her comb in her duffel, hair decidedly unbrushed around her shoulders, still sitting in her fatigues and they're only an hour out from the Citadel. She could be in the crew quarters, going over any possible assignments they could give her. She could be trying to get another couple of winks in. Anything other than being here, and desperately hanging on to what felt like the last thing she had in the galaxy.

It would've been so much easier not to be here right now, but nothing in the last year had been easy. It's harder to force herself out, hell she's been sleeping in here for the last week or so.

The lights flicker just above her, the battery still stuttering in a way that frustrated Garrus to no end. Not that they had much need for it these days, but she'd offered to take a look at it. He'd been content to let her sit nearby. Talking about trivial things during the first few days after the suicide mission with some of her senses glossed over by pain meds, maybe more than a little wine in their systems. Then it waned into painful silence as they grew closer to the station, wine bottle empty and all sentiments aired. All the things she knows she can't say, all the things she wants to.

She rolls another bandage around her hand, pulling taut. It'd been her good hand too, a lucky shot taken by a Collector that had left her unable to snipe properly during the last leg of the base assault. Still bruised and trying it's hardest to bleed through. Mordin hadn't been there to do it properly, so it had been her, hearing gunshots against the barrier they'd set up, blood gushing from her hand with Garrus asking her if she was alright. Medi-gel spilling from her shaking hands, only being able to offer suppressing fire with her Carnifex before Shepard told them to retreat. Her wrist whined from the motion, and she barely catches a blue eye darting between her and the UI when she groans.

"Still bothering you?" His voice is softer than usual when she catches him in the act, hands stilling over the keyboard, "Chakwas should really take a look at that."

"She can once we're back in Alliance space," Brione haphazardly cuts off the end of it, tucking it under one of the other wraps. She tests a smile with the nearly healed scar on her lip, "Besides, you're the one who was apparently up and fighting with Shepard not even two days after you nearly died, Garrus."

Another beat of silence before he starts again, mandibles flaring as he sighs. Exasperated with her, maybe. He'd been bothering her about it for days now, usually asking how it was and if she needed anything, "We Turians are a bit hardier than our human counterparts," He gestures to the scarred side of his head, bandage recently removed. "Brione-"

"Don't." She lays the gauze down next to her, unable to meet his eyes. She doesn't want to think about the fact these are their last days together, the fact this could very well be the last time she hears him say her name. There wasn't much guaranteed after their non-human crewmembers stepped off the ship, nothing saying he had to stay with her, even over light years separating them, "I'll see Chakwas once, once everyone is gone. Shepard will have my head if I lose a hand before we get there anyway."

"You can't hide in here forever, Brione," Is all he says, giving her a concerned look but finishing his diagnostics on the console first, "No reason in putting it off."

This talk has been a week coming. He hesitates, unsure of himself while she tries to will the tears away, turning away from him. What was she, six? She could handle a suicide mission (which they'd all nearly died on), so why was saying goodbye, saying see you later, saying that she'd see him again soon so hard? She was a captain of the Alliance military, not a babbling schoolgirl with a crush.

Except, that's what it felt like, navigating a relationship with him. She'd downright giggled at something he'd told her.

Does he know just how much he means to her?

It wasn't as if extranet access would be blocked for her when she got back to Earth. By every law that Shepard had learned (and in turn exploited) surprisingly quickly, most of the human operatives aboard the SR-2 wouldn't be arrested under the same duress she would be. Brione could still send messages to Palaven, could still say hello every once and a while.

Hello wasn't the same as being able to sit in a comfortable silence with one at the console, the other completing her daily reports with her legs folded under her, hair tied up in a messy bun at the base of neck. Hello wasn't the same as finding leftovers from the dinner prepared earlier and pulling all-nighters just to spend some time together.

Brione wasn't sure when this had turned into more, when she had started to want more. When she couldn't think of a tomorrow without him. At first, she'd just entertained it as little more than a fling, if she was going to die at the end of the year, then she could cross a few things off her bucket list. And, he was a friend. They'd met a few years before the SR-1, a one off meeting during her shore leave. Then they'd been squadmates, fighting their way through waves and waves of Geth, two snipers snipping at each other for their aim. It boggled the mind that it'd been so quick after Alchera, that she started to discover little things about him when she had little else to do. The small visits about the battery that turned into hour long conversations once she'd rejoined the Normandy. One or the other venting about a minor problem or a large one they'd held onto for so long they'd made a joke of it.

He'd patiently listened when she recounted the dressing down she'd been given after Torfan and the therapy sessions she'd attended afterwards. That, she'd never told anyone about in detail. Hated reliving the day, but it slipped from her mouth so easily while she'd been sitting on the crates. Then she'd sipped on some sort of tea Shepard had picked up on the Citadel, listening to him about Sidonis, about his time on Omega in general. That by the time they were within range of the relay, she'd simply decided she didn't want to let go. That there wasn't anyone like him, that there was so much left that she still wanted. They'd spent the night on the cot he'd dragged in here sometime ago, and she'd never felt so alive.

Then they'd survived. And then there was a whole new life expanding before her, with the Reapers looming over them. But she'd lived, they'd lived, and now she wasn't sure what they were. It wasn't a fling anymore, but she didn't know where he fit into her life.

Whether he wanted to fit in her life. She's sure he could have just about anyone, and he hadn't seemed too upset, giving her the way out of asking whether she wanted something closer to home.

How did he become her home? It could've been anywhere else, on Earth, in London, on the Citadel. But instead, it was a certain Garrus Vakarian.

"This isn't -- it isn't the end, Brione, not if you don't want it to be," He holds a hand out to her, "If I know Shepard, and I'd assume I do, she'll get us back into the thick of it within a couple months. If that."

"That might be a little optimistic," She responds, toying with her hair for a moment before grasping his hand, pulling herself up off the cot to look at him properly. She gently holds a hand against the scarred side of his head, brushing the rough plates with her thumb, "I would've been rather stupid to think this would last forever, running into the sunset. I'm just glad we had what we did, Garrus."

He leans into her touch, his other arm snaking around her waist. Why did it have to be him that she'd become attached to? The first person that'd make her feel more like a living being than a cold blooded killer that remained a few seconds from death every time she stepped off the ship?

Why is he all she can think about these days?

"I," He pauses again, "I'll always just be a comm away. If that's what you want, of course."

"Always, hm?" She asks, "Don't know how timezones work from Earth to Palaven, but if you haven't noticed, I'm not much of sleeping person. You could lose a lot of it, talking to me. But you've never minded it before now, I guess."

"It'd be better than nothing." He responds, when she drops her hand and instead pulls him closer to her. Maybe it's not the most comfortable with him in armor, and her still regularly needing their dwindling supply of pain meds, but she just wants to feel something, anything. She can't go back to the way things were, alone, and cold in an alliance apartment with nothing but her next meal going for her.

"I don't want to leave you, Garrus," She admits, her voice cracking. Brione won't cry, she wills herself not to, even as the dam strains against them, "You, damn you, you're...everything."

"You're...lovely yourself, Brione. Not like I'm itching to leave either, not when everything's already going right for once," He responds, the words thrumming through what she thinks are Turian subvocals. If Turians even can whisper, she's pretty sure he is while gently running his hands through her hair, then trailing down her back, "But I'm not sure I look all that good in...what was it Shepard called it? 'Jumpsuit orange'? Not sure how friendly the Alliance would be to me either."

"Probably not very," She tries to laugh, tries to force anything out at all, but instead all she gets is a choking sound that she could compare to a varren. A rogue tear slips out anyway, and all she hopes for is that Garrus can't see it. Why is she falling apart? Why now? She has a million and three battles under her belt, and this is what shatters her? Not a shotgun, not a scion, but this.

She'd said goodbye to so many people before. To her various adoptive parents over the years, her old COs, even Alenko more recently. None of them destroyed her like this was.

Relationships. They're impossible. They're weaknesses and vulnerabilities that your enemies are just waiting to take advantage of. Even more if your's is a cross-species liaison, one that shouldn't have become everything that it was now.

Brione doesn't want to live without him.

She can't bring herself to say it out loud, so she doesn't. He holds her a little while longer, they don't say anything but reassuring the other all would be well. Or at least they try, and it dissolves until silence when there isn't anything to say but repeat themselves ten times over. They sit for a while after that, time whittling down all the while. Her hands fit a bit oddly in his, but she can't find herself wanting to let go all the while.

Shepard's voice comes over the comm with a timer on their arrival, and she has to pick up her things, fastening the last button on her jacket and throwing her duffel bag over her shoulder. Garrus offers her one last lingering forehead touch when they reach the airlock, and she kisses him softly, knowing if she stays any longer, she won't be able to leave.

But she does. She has to be able to.

She sees him off, the glint of his blue armor the last thing she sees. She thinks she's the perfect picture of someone who was trying (and inwardly failing) to stay afloat with a forced grin and a wave as he walks off. Brione doesn't care, as much as the crew teases her about calibrations in more than one capacity. A few get a smile out of her, but she feels numb the rest of the way to Earth.

Cold. It settles in like an all too familiar blanket. The chill of not really seeing the faces of the people around her, nor acknowledging what they had to say.

She slips back into her normal routines, after the hearing. Doesn't even realize it at first, but without her usual visits to someone who wasn't dolled up in Alliance blue, there's nothing to it. She's shuttled back to the Citadel after a month, sent to work with Udina. A liaison to Alliance and from the Council, is effectively her job description. It's like clockwork, sleep, work, find something to eat if she was feeling physically up to it, work until she couldn't, then reluctantly sleep again. Fix up her sniper rifle on the weekends, take it to a range to keep herself sharp.

There's no Turian on her six though. No one there to bother her that her shot is off just a few inches so that clips the outside of the target.

She sees his face in every single one that walks by until they all blur together. She hears his voice in every C-SEC officer that speaks to Udina, to her.

It isn't until two months later that she receives a mail on her comm. Right in the middle of another one of Udina's tirades about the lack of Council support and funding, she opens it like any other email she'd received before. Calculating, tired, she reads over the sender, the subject line and is halfway through scrolling through it when the glaze over her eyes recedes and she realizes just who it is. Her breath catches in her throat, taking her leave for the afternoon.

She finally gets a call after work that day. And just as suspected, it keeps her up all night. There's so much to say, so much that she hadn't known. Her new job, his new task force. And yet, he still seems so indescribably happy to see her. That her eyes are barely being held open to focus on him, but that he's here, as much as he can be.

"Sure you don't want to take back that offer of always being on the other end of the comm? Now that we've done it, I might get a taste for it," She says, yawning as she absentmindedly rubs an eye. Udina will give her shit for being there late in the morning (in a couple hours really), but she doesn't care.

"As long as you want me to be," He nods, "Well, hopefully you don't start calling me at the oddest hours of the night or in the middle of meetings, but always, yes."

"Hm. I'll file it under consideration," She perches her head on her palm, taking in every detail the vid would let her, "Always?"

"Always. Now get some sleep, Brione," His voice softens, mandibles flaring into a smile as her vision blurs, "Good night."

Five months after that, communication to Palaven goes dark. The Reapers attack, and she watches wide-eyed as they touch down in Earth.

And her always becomes an empty promise with every refugee she watches come in during the days afterwards.

Garrus is not among them.

#mass effect #mass effect oc #original character #oc #brione petrakis #petrakarian #female original character/garrus vakarian #f!shakarian #mass effect 2 #mass effect fanfiction

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thedoctor1002 · 5 years ago

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Idk, I never posted one of my fics here but guess I'll try ~

Also, English is not my first language so feel free to correct me QwQ

Fandom: Psycho-Pass -season 1- (is this still a thing?)

Characters: Kogami Shinya, Sasayama Mitsuru, OC

Prompt (it was in Italian, so I'll translate): write a story using three among these words: cloud, dusk, thunderstorm, storm, hull, bay, shelter, sail, night

Title: Log date: 2110/02/28 (Friday) 22:04

---

The lights of the bay flicker dynamically before your eyes.

They dance hypnotically, of the same cyan colour of your office’s walls, but with a whole different beat. They drink the red and white trails from the traffic, they shatter and multiply in the tears of an inclement rain. I know how much you hate it, you just can’t stand going on recon with an umbrella. On the other hand, I love it.

Rain brings us close together under the waterproof cloth and I manage to observe details that neon lights often hide from me: the precise way you part your hair, the last few drops of the jasmine perfume on your jacket, your long lashes. Shion thinks they’re fake. We always fight over it, can you believe me?

After all, you’ve never been the kind of woman to wear such frills.

A notification arrives, the acid light of your impalpable PC breaks through the sacred dark from where you pretend you don’t see me. It digs your silhouette and paints you like a ghost on the huge windows of the Public Safety Bureau.

Your jet-black hair lay on your back like varnish pouring over the white silk of your blouse.

“Pulling an all-nighter, Inspector Matou?” I ask casually, exposed. With you, after all, I always am: you’re the only one that can shush my shitty jokes.

But this time you laugh slightly: nothing more than a spike, a trembling breath that shakes your ribs and lips.

“The forecasts say that the storm won’t stop until tomorrow morning,” you tell me, sitting at your desk, “also, I’ve been delaying this paperwork through all week, it's about time I get it done. Might as well do some overtime and get rid of it, don’t you think?”

“You’re such a workaholic.” I label you, realizing how lucky I am being allowed to do it: Ginoza, that prude, would have never let it slide “You should leave some for the rest of the precinct: make 'em earn their wages.”

A tired smile crosses your face as you tap your fingers on the keyboard. It’s so clear you’re trying to avoid my glance.

You used to look for it.

You looked for my eyes at briefings, in that discrete way that eventually shocked everyone. You looked for them among alleys, as soon as you heard a gunshot or the chocked sound of a fight.

And when you found me, it felt like a 7 miles free fall.

“How are the legs going?” I dare to ask. I see the hollow structure of your new shins below the hem of your pencil skirt. They swing a bit underneath the glass of your desk. You didn’t lose your damn tic, your right heel shakes like the needle of a sewing machine even when you seem calm.

You shrug and drink the bottom of an already empty glass of water.

I shouldn’t have asked. It breaks my heart, to see you like this.

You don’t give me an answer and massage the back of your knee with a sigh. Lately, I feel like you’re avoiding me.

You’re turning back into the one you were before: uncompromising, cold and distant. I wonder if the bunch of ingrates downstairs have been calling you Dobermann again. I wonder if you’re still as relentless.

You worry me: your stress level is getting darker and darker. You don’t want old Kasei to take issues with you, not again.

I can imagine how you must have felt, the night when this mess happened.

You most likely got pissed, if I do know you.

I mean, did they really think I got away on my own? I bet you never doubted me: no one knows an Enforcer better than its Inspector.

“Runaway?! Have you lost your minds?” Sasayama?!”

Those were the first words you said when they rescued you. You spoke them way before cleansing your lungs from the rotten water of the river, way before asking Masaoka if you’d have ever got back to feeling your lower legs. They hurt like hell and you had to pull them around like sandbags.

“They got him” you panted, holding tight on your mentor’s coat “They took him away, I tell you!” The one that kidnapped him wasn’t a latent criminal. The Dominator didn’t activate, not even when they shot me. Please, believe me. Check on the log files, please.”

Crime coefficient: 0.

I know that bug still haunts you.

Cause, after all, it’s can’t be anything else: who on earth is that Makishima to fly under the Sibyl Sistem’s radar? Who can fool a network that knows your crimes before you do? And how is it possible that the silhouette that kneecapped you and threw you into a river could possibly be innocent?

You haven’t lost your mind, Inspector: the Dominator betrayed me, too.

Don’t think I don’t know how pitiful must have been, the next three days.

Makishima isn’t real. Forget it, it was just a delirium. You were in shock.

It was the trauma, dear. It was a breakdown. It was burnout syndrome.

You’d use some holiday, darling. Take a week. Take two. Go somewhere far, no, better: just stay at home. Go to therapy. Keep yourself busy, don’t think about it. Work. Also, don’t work: it wears you out!

They put you back on your feet in less than six hours, but nobody allowed you to join search parties. Heaven forbid your stress level getting any darker. Heaven forbid that yet another good Inspector gets demoted among those damn Enforcers. But, still, in the whole IT section, there wasn’t a single nerd that could get that night's logs. That's one funny thing, ain't it?

Woman, sometimes I wish your damn head wasn't that hard. I wish you didn't follow the Forensics to get a lift, so soon after the deed.

At least, you could have listened to Kogami. Shit, didn't you see how pale he was? You didn't even need the Dominator to read him, his stress level was mindblowing!

You should have believed him when he told you you didn't want to enter that alley. First off, it was already full of other detectives and analysts. I have no idea what kind of business you had to do in there. Second thing second, Kogami has an eye for certain matters. Do you think he didn't notice I’ve always been all over you? Not gonna lie, maybe I told him about you, once or twice.

But no, of course, you had to get in.

The software that taught you how to walk on those carbon stilts made you stand your ground and bark a "For fuck's sake, Shinya, move!" worthy of the Dobermann’s reputation. Even those who hadn't been called out made way.

But your new legs didn't hold you, when you saw what they had made of my corpse.

I'm sorry, Katsumi, I never wanted to upset you like that.

You know how much I would have rather have a more heroic death. I don't know, like, in the middle of a shooting, saving the day. It would have been much classier, less tacky, less trash. I think I deserved it, that's all.

You stop typing and rub your temples. You shelter what’s left of your lipstick behind your hand. I wish I could kiss it off, instead of watching you consume it in a ruby red halo in the notch between your thumb and your index.

You lift your eyes only for Kogami, who’s passing by your office like a nurse in its night shift.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, putting more care in that question than I could have ever done. More than anybody could have ever done, because he’s the only one that gets you, right now. You two seem like the only ones who lost something.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the monitor and the dangerously high Crime Coefficient on the display.

“It's not working” you wail softly, misty-eyed. I can’t believe it, is it still you?

“They’re gonna kick me out anyway, if it doesn’t lower quickly” you continue, with that realism of yours. I used to call you a jinx for that but, at the end of the day, you always got our backs. “It’s for the best if I just resign. I’m gonna keep what's left of my dignity, at least.”

The dark profile of my best friend looks through me, as he sits on the armchair next to mine. He would like to say something, a word of encouragement maybe, we all know it in this damn room, but numbers shut our mouths.

“You could become an Enforcer” he proposes.

Goddammit, Shinya, did we work with the same person? Katsumi as an Enforcer?

And there you go, shaking your head. You hold your face in your hands and let your raven hair hide your visage.

“Can you imagine me, following orders? I do know how to work, I can do it better than three-quarters of our colleagues and I’ve never had problems remarking it. They’d eat me alive if they had the chance. Dogs celebrate on the corpses of lions.”

“But lions remain lions and dogs stay dogs.” Kogami finishes, stealing my lines.

I notice the slight trembling of your finger, as you tap your touchpad to send that last confirm.

In a few moments, the system will have your resignation registered. Your profile won’t unlock your Dominator anymore and in a few days time, just enough for you to collect your belongings, you won’t even manage to enter the office.

Who’s gonna explain to old Kasei that there's more of your stuff here than in your apartment?

I’d ask you what do you plan on doing with your life, but tonight’s decision seems definitely brave enough to call it a day.

I look at the tabs you open in your browser, they mirror in the windows behind you.

Air travel.

Argentina, Cuba, States, New Zealand, Germany, Kenya. You go around the world in 80 seconds flat, you multiply your chances and spread them all through the air in front of you, in a complex diagram that doesn’t lead anywhere.

I never wanted to take you away from your home, you don’t deserve this.

You cover your eyes with a hand and use the other one to pick a random selection from your atlas.

Greece.

“Well, at least it’s on the sea.” you wrap up, condensing in a handful of words the only satisfaction you can find in starting a brand new life.

You two stare at the transparent screenshot of your flight, the countdown on the web page seems way too joyful.

“It’s so exciting, Katsumi Matou! Check-in your luggage. Your journey will begin in: 06 days: 17 hours: 34 minutes: 21 seconds”

20.

19.

18.

Seconds pass by, in complete silence.

“Do you think it would be a burden to him?” you ask Shinya, “Do you think he’d understand?”

Who would have guessed that a cynic one like yourself could believe in the afterlife? I wish I were here to ask you. I wish we could have spoken about life, death, sex, about things long gone and things yet to be.

His hand squeezes yours gently, as he looks at you in the eye, hoping to stop the train to Paranoidland from setting off.

“It’s not your fault” he reassures you as he can: the both of you wouldn’t make the average person’s empathy.

But he’s right, though, it really isn’t: I know you’ve done anything you could. It’s always been like that.

“Maybe I owe him” you draft “Even if they don’t believe in Makishima, maybe one day I could have proved he exists.”

The teal of your Psycho-Pass would suit you wonderfully, if it wasn’t a description of your mental health.

What could you possibly do in these conditions? You’d have ended up in a cubicle, filing loss and theft reports. You would have never made it to the dossiers, surely not to those of such a controversial case. Making you end up in a study room would have been my final bullshit. I’m happy with your choice, really. I would have loved visiting Europe someday.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Kogami rebukes you, externalizing what I’ve been thinking all along: “I’m going to look out for your man: your team has already given way too much. I’m gonna find him, Matou, cold case or not.”

You nod, but it’s clear you don’t believe him. I can read through you, you’re a terrible liar.

I don’t think you don’t trust him, most likely you’ve done the math and figured that working on an independent case is far too difficult for an Inspector, let alone for an Enforcer.

And there it is, my fall. After an exhausting chase, you finally look into my eyes, even though -according to Shinya- you’re most likely staring at the void.

Despite being used to such races, believe me, I’ve missed you.

“I’m just so sorry.” you finally whisper, giving me a bitter smile.

Try and stop me, Ginoza, tell me once again how inappropriate it is: I don’t mind anymore. I get up and I don’t hesitate while holding you and leaving a kiss on your hair, shamelessly.

“I’m going to grab some coffee” I announce, walking backwards to the door like a shrimp, just to look at my dearest friends a bit longer. “I’d get you one, but I’m short on coins. Maybe next time.”

“See you, Inspector.”, Kogami greets you, leaving alongside me.

“Be good.” you wave back, as we were all to meet again tomorrow.

Walking through the dark alley, I can hear an excerpt from our last conversation through the opaque glass of your office.

“You’re jerk, Sasayama!”

I can hear you laughing out loud, through the crackly recording. You laughed at my gall, with that warm, strong, sweet voice of yours, mocking me. Admit it: mine, after all, were the only compliments that could make you blush.

It’s incredible how we managed to joke even inside a car that was taking us on a crime scene. To an external eye, we might have looked disrespectful. Truth is I’ve always feared death so much I just had to laugh at the reaper.

“Oh, come on, what would it take? Come with me to the Precinct’s New Year’s dinner, the 17th is around the corner!” I kept annoying you, as you were too busy driving to mind my dumb flirt attempts. I still can’t get how we never had an accident. “Be good, Katsumi, give me a joy to live for!”

“You could always ask Shion, you know? You always give her more attention, after all.”

I hear the subtle sound of the wheels stopping, the parking brake cracking and it’s like Ogishima’s outskirts appear before my eyes, in that same January night. That place gave me goosebumps, but I would have hated if you understood it.

“Here we are” you announced, with still a bit of resentment in your voice. You unlocked the passenger’s door and I remember I left your Dominator in the car’s trunk: I didn’t want you to follow me. Not that time.

“You scare me when you pay so much attention” you commented, noticing how serious I got “will you tell me why are you insisting so much to keep on searching? Kogami got the guy. Tomorrow we go, we arrest him and it's thank you, next.”

My answer has been recorded as a distant and muffled noise, but I still can trace it: “He’s not the one, I tell you. I have another suspect, but I need a more solid base. And you’re staying, Inspector.”

“Staying?! You’ve gone crazy!” you laughed, locking the corporate sedan behind you “If something were to happen to you, or worse if you didn’t come back, Kasei would…”

“I said you’re staying: it’s dangerous.”

“Sasayama, our work is dangerous,” you replied, contemptuous, understanding that clearly among the gear I brought I didn’t count yours and going back to the car to get it “One more risk won’t make a difference: if I have to drop dead, it can either be here, at home or god knows where.”

“Will you join me for the precinct’s dinner, though?”

And here is a sequence that the voice recorder surely can’t have grasped, but that I could remember even in a thousand years. You cast an outraged glance over me from above the trunk’s door, panting through a half-smile. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. And finally, after refusing my invitations since 17th November, during lunch break, you smiled shrugging.

“Deal, come on, just make way” you sighed, as your heels echoed on the wet concrete “Still, you’re a jerk.”

“I recorded it: you have no excu-”

The audio file interrupts.

End of recording.

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