#i actually wrote fourteen pages of NO ANGST YOU GUYS

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Parent Trap 👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 | Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Imagine

Inspired by Disney’s ‘The Parent Trap’

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x novelist female!reader (romantic), Lila L/n and Caroline Bradshaw!OCs (daughters), Marilyn Brooks!OC (Bradley’s love interest), Ollie Tomas (platonic, Y/n’s bff), Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell (platonic) & Hannix (Phoenix x Hangman)

Content Warnings: fluff, light angst, profanity, pregnancy & childbirth, separated twins, second chance romance troupe, assault (reader punches a character) | female reader—afab!reader (she/her) | wc: 18k+ this is long folks.

Premise: It was quite literally love at first sight for aspiring aviator Bradley Bradshaw and writer Y/n L/n, but the relationship ended as fast as it started. It did result in the birth of their beautiful identical twin daughters, Lila and Caroline—but even they couldn’t keep them together. An agreement was made in the divorce, Caroline would grow up with Bradley, and Lila would be raised by Y/n so the former couple never had to see each other again. What neither anticipated, however, were the sisters coming face-to-face at summer camp the year they turned 14…..and forming the ultimate parent trap to reunite their parents for a second chance at love.

Note: I rewatched ‘The Parent Trap’ the other night and gosh I remembered how much I loved that movie as a kid. I immediately got to writing this because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just to be clear I do NOT support the idea of separating children especially twins & not tell them. This is of course for fictional purposes & I do not own Disney, The Parent Trap or the TGM characters. Hope you enjoyed! (Also I envisioned Dan Levy as Ollie when I wrote this & Margot Robbie as Marilyn😂

Thank you guys so so much for 1k!!!! I’m over the moon and cannot believe that I hit 1k just as I’m celebrating 1 year of coming back to this writing account and actually keeping up with works ! 🥹🥹 I love you all and appreciate all the kind words left on my stories 🤍🤍 you guys are the best!! — Bee 🐝

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“I know you’re upset, honey,” Y/n brushed Lila’s dirty blonde hair behind her ear, “But it’s for the best. Just think before you know it’ll be the holidays and then next summer I’ll fly you out there.” All she got in response was a sad nod, the fourteen-year-old turning to look out the window. Sunny California soon turned into cloudy New York as the plane traveled from coast to coast. The entire journey the novelist thought back to the past two weeks, which did nothing to heal her aching heart. Not only did she mourn leaving behind her second daughter, but she mourned what could’ve been with the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with almost fourteen years ago.

The one who made her believe in love at first sight.

In 2006, aspiring writer Y/n L/n was on the verge of college graduation, planning to move to New York City in hope of accomplishing her dream of becoming a New York Times bestselling author.

For as long as she could imagine writing stories was her escapism from the hardships of reality. A hopeless romantic, most of her work was romance—dabbling in fantasy or historical fiction from time to time but keeping a romance troupe involved. She first started writing fanfiction on the internet when it was just starting out, focusing on some of her favorite characters which resulted in her profile becoming popular with readers. It soon progressed to her attempting to write an actual novel.

The story she envisioned to write one day was keeping her up at night, so she finally sat her ass down the summer going into her senior year and started writing. In between classes and working at the campus library at UVA, where she was studying literature and psychology, Y/n was nose deep in her Apple iBook she literally got because of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde. Pages upon pages, the words flew from her mind and onto the screen, forming dialogue and descriptions. She didn’t know what would come of the book, unsure if she would even send it to literary agents and publishers once completed, but for now it was purely for her entertainment.

After all, look at Stephenie Meyer. Home girl wrote a book based on a dream and it turned out to be one of the bestselling series of all time.

Graduation came in a blur. Her plan was to go to the ceremony, get her diploma, and then head back to her place to finish writing. She was only a few chapters from being done. The last thing she wrote was the big twist which could be the make or break for the main character to be with the love interest, all that was needed was the resolution.

What Y/n didn’t expect that night was going to a party, at the insistence of her friend, and meeting who she believed was the man of her dreams.

Bradley Bradshaw was everything a girl would fawn over. Handsome, funny, flirty, the life of a party, who had dreams and aspirations. While his friends clowned him for having the typical 80s porstache, they secretly envied how well he pulled it off. Which was obvious by the amount of women throwing themselves at him.

Y/n’s friend had her eyes on him that night….but little did they both know, he had eyes for Y/n.

The second she walked in he was drawn to her. “Who’s that?” He asked his buddy, Fabian, interrupting him from his flirting with a pretty redhead. Annoyed, Fabian looked in the direction of Bradley’s gaze, catching Y/n in his line of sights.

“You talkin’ about the girl in the white pantsuit? That’s I think Y/n if I remember—we had psych 101 together ages ago. She doubled majored with English and worked at the library….” he raised a brow at Bradley, who was already walking toward Y/n with a determined look on his face.

Her friend Tanya spotted him first, immediately smiling with hopeful eyes. Only it fell to a small frown when she realized he wasn’t looking at her, but Y/n.

“Hi,” the greeting has Y/n turn around, red solo cup in hand and becoming puzzled at the sight of a gorgeous man standing behind her.

“U-uh hello.”

Bradley extends a hand, “I’m Bradley.” Y/n shakes it, both flinching when a spark ignites at the contact.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n,” he beams, now aware she wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you’d like to dance?”

“Oh um,” she glances at Tanya, seeing her saddened look and becomes apologetic. “I-I don’t know…”

“Just one,” he insists, “and then I promise to leave you alone afterwards.”

Y/n still appeared hesitant, not wanting to upset Tanya further, but the woman gives her a soft smile, “go on,” she takes the cup from Y/n, “I’ll be right here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. In fact,” Tanya bites her lip when she connects eyes with a guy she had a class with the previous semester. One she thought was cute and wouldn’t mind getting to know. When he gives her a wave and gestures for her to come over, Tanya blushes, “I’ll be over there talking to Grayson. Take all the time you need.” She was already on the move before Y/n could say anything else, leaving her with Bradley.

“Sooo…” he holds out a hand, nodding his head to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the house the party was at.

Heart racing, Y/n gives a small smile and takes his hand, letting him lead her to the floor. It was the first time a guy had asked her to dance at a party. Though she didn’t date or go out much in college, the times she did Y/n often got left alone because Tanya or one of their roommates/friends were hit on and she didn’t. Plus with school, work, and writing her book, a social life was pretty much nonexistent.

One dance became two, then three, and four. Before she knew it three a.m rolled by and she and Bradley had danced and talked the whole night, ending with the two sitting in the back of his Bronco with sonic Route 44s and milkshakes. Never had Y/n laughed as hard as she did that night, almost to the point of tears. There was warmth all through her veins, even after the two parted ways, only sharing a sweet kiss when he dropped her off at her apartment.

It was the closest thing she felt to love at first sight.

Maybe it truly was.

Things went by fast. Literally. So fast it was starting to make Y/n worried. Not only were the feelings getting stronger, but the terms of the relationship in general. Within a weeks they were living together, Bradley going as far as to propose to Y/n with the news of his commission into the U.S Navy.

“Marry me, Y/n,” he told her after the ceremony, the shiny Ensign ranks on the color of his uniform. “I know it sounds crazy, but I wanna share my life with you—every part of it. Till the day I die.”

Part of her was conflicted but the overwhelming love for Bradley had Y/n say yes. That weekend they were at the courthouse, exiting as Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw.

But unfortunately the love story ended before it could really begin.

A few short weeks after the wedding, Y/n found out she was pregnant while Bradley was at flight school. It terrified her as much as it excited her. They were only twenty-two, with Bradley’s Naval career just starting out and Y/n trying to get her food in the door on hers. Having double majored in literature and psychology there were many career paths she could go into. Many would involve her having to get a Masters, but the couple were already paying off student loans from undergrad that she didn’t want to have to take out anymore financial aid.

Personally Y/n wanted to write books. She had yet to finish the one from college, with plenty more ideas safely tucked in her mind. The news of her pregnancy would have to put any potential job on hold.

Bradley was beyond excited when she told him, lifting her in his arms with glee, “I’m gonna be a dad!” His excitement was what really made Y/n look forward to bringing their baby into the world. She still had worries no doubt but having Bradley, who was now known to his fellow aviators as Rooster, made it easier.

But the couple were in for a much bigger surprise.

“TWINS?!” They both shrieked in the hospital room, eyes bulging the monitor showcasing two sacs in Y/n’s womb. Rooster nearly went into cardiac arrest, the woman bursting into tears which had him hold her tightly in his arms. Lips pressed to her head as he mumbled, “We got this baby. This is exciting! Just think, they’ll be best friends forever.”

“And it looks like,” the technician moved the wand across Y/n’s stomach a bit more to get a better angle. “You are gonna be blessed with two girls, Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw.” That had Y/n cry even more, Rooster shedding his own at the excitement and love that filled him.

“Girls,” he breathed in awe, kissing all over his wife’s face making her cries turn into giggles. “We’re having little girls—I’m so happy, Y/n. I can’t thank you enough for giving me this gift.”

In April of 2007 Lila and Caroline Bradshaw arrived. Identical twins who literally could not be told apart unless they were dressed differently. So the couple bought matching necklaces with gold pendants on each with the letters ‘C’ and ‘L’ for each girl. That way they could always know who was who.

Named after his mother, Caroline was a daddy’s girl even as a newborn. The only time she ever really wanted Y/n was when she was hungry, other than that little Caroline wanted to be in Bradley’s arms. She’d fall asleep in them, whine if she were in someone else’s, and make grabby hands for him when he’d come home. Caroline’s personality resembled Rooster’s, literally the life of the party whenever people were over.

Lila on the other hand was her momma’s mini me. The name came from a character in Y/n’s book. Not the protagonist, but the best friend who Y/n enjoyed writing for more than the main character. It was a name she always loved, and the moment Y/n’s eyes landed on the baby girl the name was perfect for her. Opposite of her sister, Lila was quiet and reserved. She loved to be held by Y/n and would beg for her attention. Like Caroline was a daddy’s girl, Lila was momma’s angel.

Life seemed to be good. It was good.

But then when the twins turned six months, things started to sour. They were living in Virginia with Bradley assigned to the Golden Warriors and Y/n was at home taking care of the girls. She’d get a little bit of writing done within the week but had major writer's block. Almost twice a week she and Bradley were arguing over something whether it was money, work, or the girls. They’d go to bed with their backs facing each other, Bradley leaving in the morning with little to no goodbye and when he’d return home he’d be so exhausted the two would rarely talk like they used to.

It was apparent the honeymoon stage was over. Both realizing it just wasn’t working out and even with their daughters the relationship was becoming strained.

What really ended everything was the night of the officer’s ball. A disrespectful comment was made to Y/n about wanting to be a published romance author by one of Bradley’s superiors. And he didn’t stand up for her. In fact, the man had the audacity to laugh with the men.

Heartbroken and pissed off, Y/n threw her napkin onto the table and removed herself without permission to be excused. Everyone stared with wide eyes, Bradley’s superiors watching with disapproval and making snide comments to the licensed pilot. Now he was angry, feeling humiliated by the scene and raced after his wife with an apology to the guests.

When they got outside both were feeling the heat. Spitting off words that they knew were going to fuel the fire.

“What the fuck was that, Y/n?”

“What the fuck was that?” She repeated with malice, “How fucking dare you sit there and laugh while they insult me! I’m your fucking wife, Bradley—you’re supposed to stand up for me! Instead you humiliated me!”

The entire drive home they were silent. Rooster’s knuckles were practically white with how hard he was gripping them, Y/n breathing heavily to control the anger. Not even the radio was playing. Only silence filled the void of the impeding argument that was to continue when they got home.

The door of the Bronco slamming alerted the babysitter, the teenage daughter of their neighbors, who met them outside with a smile only to frown when Bradley stormed past her. “Is everything—,” she went to ask but Y/n stopped her.

“Everything’s fine.” It was far from fine but she didn’t need to know that. Y/n removed a small wad of cash from her clutch, handing it to the girl. “This is for you. Thanks for all your help, Molly.”

When Y/n got in she checked on her girls first and then met Bradley in the bedroom to get out of the god forsaken dress she started to feel claustrophobic in. It wasn’t even fifteen seconds later before the couple were at it again. They tried to keep quiet for the sake of their daughters asleep just down the hall but nothing could stop the shouts from escaping.

“What was I supposed to do?” Rooster throws his arms out, face red. “Tell him to shut the fuck up? I have to work with him, Y/n. I see him every goddamn day—you want me to make my life miserable? Cause he’ll make sure that happens.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you fucking serious, Bradley? You’re so worried about having to do more pushups than people or get hazed than standing up for me? Your own wife?! Yeah, I wanted you to tell him to shut the fuck up—I would’ve done it if was my boss! Because you’re my husband and I wouldn’t let somebody insult you like he did me!”

He sarcastically laughs, bringing his hands up to rub his face, “You know, you’re acting like a fucking lunatic right now.”

The comment had Y/n still, eyes widening as the alarms went off in her head. She waited for him to take it back, but when he didn’t all she could do was make a pained sound, turning away from him before the tears could spill. Exiting their room, Y/n went to the closet where they stored luggage. When she returned she had her large suitcase and a baby bag.

“What are you doing?” She ignored him, starting to throw random clothes in the bag from her dresser. Rooster, came around the bed staring at her in disbelief. “Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Bradley,” she hissed, still not looking at him. “I’m fucking packing and getting the hell out this house. And I’m taking the girls with me.”

“The hell you are!” He shouts, going after her when she enters the bathroom. “You’re not taking my daughters. Especially when I don’t know where the hell you’re going.”

“I’ll figure it out,” she gathers her makeup, skincare, hair care and shower necessities. “Maybe I’ll finally go to New York like I planned before I met you.”

“And what are you gonna do there?” He challenged from the doorway. Y/n felt her hand tighten over the first item in her hand, which happened to be a hair dryer. She could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, praying to God he wouldn’t actually say what would really tear her heart in pieces.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” But Bradley was too far gone before he could stop himself.

“Finish that book? The one you’ve been writing for almost three years and have yet to finish? And then actually get it published?” He chuckled sarcastically, breaking her soul when he added, “Yeah, sure you are. How about you wake up and start thinking about reality—where you should work on getting an actual career that’s gonna support your daughters instead of living in a fairytale.”

The hairdryer left her hand with a literal battle cry, causing Bradley to jump out of the way with a curse, the object hitting the side of his arm. When it bounced on the ground before stopping just by the bed, the couple stared at each other as though they couldn’t believe what had happened. Both were breathing heavily, Y/n’s makeup smudged with tears rolling down her face.

“Fuck you,” she whispered, seeing the immediate regret in his eyes, though no words of the sort followed. Y/n brought a hand up, turning away from him when he said her name. “Fuck you, Bradley.” She heard him leave, the door closing behind him allowing her to succumb to her emotions. The rest of the time she packed her things Y/n fought back sobs. She wouldn’t let him see her like that. That he had hurt her beyond what she could’ve imagined.

The way he took her dream and basically slapped her in the face with it. He knew she was dealing with writer’s block and had trouble focusing on the ending with having to take care of their girls. And not to mention she gave up her pursuits to follow him.

No more.

Zipping up her suitcases, Y/n picked up the wedding photo of her and Bradley. There were not many photos of them printed out and none were hung on the walls just because they would have to move with his job, but the two photos they did have were of their little courthouse wedding and the day the twins were born.

Tears rolling down her cheek, Y/n removed the photo from the frame and tore it down the middle before doing the same with the one of them and the girls. The piece with Bradley looking down at her in the wedding and the one of him holding Lila were folded and placed in her purse, leaving the one of her in her wedding dress and the one holding Caroline. She secretly put them in the drawer of his nightstand, letting him decide what he plans to do with them once she’s gone.

She couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but it was for the best in order for them to not have to deal with a nasty custody dispute. Already she could feel a bit of her heart missing. The piece reserved for Caroline.

After quietly packing Lila’s things, Y/n rolled her suitcases down the hall and placed the baby bag on top. Rooster was in the kitchen drinking a beer, ignoring when she came into the living room to gather all the things she had there.

“I have an offer,” she approached when she was done, keeping her gaze on the ground. Y/n feared she wouldn’t be able to say it if she looked into his eyes.

“What,” his voice was monotone, evident he was tired and wanting to get whatever argument out of the way so they could move on.

“I can’t stay here,” she told him, noticing him stiffening in the corner of her eye. “I just can’t, Bradley. We both know this was a long time coming and tonight was just the nail in the coffin. We’re not a good fit—we both want different things. And I can’t even look at you without wanting to scream.” She took a deep breath to calm herself, “I never want to see you again after tonight…so I don’t wanna have to go through a custody battle with you.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to work out?” She could hear the heartbreak in his tone, getting tight with each word like he would explode if she took both girls.

Y/n let out a tired sigh, squeezing her eyes shut, “we both know Caroline prefers you, and Lila prefers me.” She waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t she knew he silently agreed. The next words that left her set in stone the next decade in a half of her life, “So I’ll take Lila with me and you raise Caroline. That way they have one of us and we never have to see each other again.” Again Bradley doesn't respond so Y/n softly says, “I’ll call a lawyer in the morning. For now I’m sleeping in the girls room.”

‘Come after me,’ she silently thought, a part of her hoping he would and convince her she was wrong and they could work this out.

‘Go after her,’ his brain screamed at him, not wanting to let go of the woman of his dreams.

But he stayed where he stood.

Twelve hours later the couple sat in the office of a divorce lawyer with papers drawn up indicating Y/n would have custody of Lila, retaining her maiden name and legally changing the girl’s to L/n, and Bradley would have custody of Caroline. They removed their rings, Y/n wiping away a tear when she did, before the two returned to the home to gather Y/n’s things.

Once the car was packed Y/n cradled Caroline while Bradley held Lila, the two facing away from each other to not show the other their emotion.

“I love you so much, sweet girl,” she whispered against Caroline’s tiny head, careful to not let her tears drop on her. Kissing her crown, Y/n softly said, “Our paths will cross again one day. But until then, I hope you have the best life and be a good girl for your daddy. You’ll always be my Caroline, my sweet girl.”

A few yards away, Bradley was saying his own words of love to Lila. “Promise me you won't give your momma too much trouble, Lila darlin’. You two take care of each other,” he kisses her forehead, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I’ll see you again one day. I love you darlin’. You’ll always have a piece of me.”

The former couple barely glanced at each other or spoke a word the entire time Bradley was securing Lila in her car seat and Y/n reluctantly handing Caroline over. Her heart skipped, clenching at the same time Bradley surprised her by giving a soft kiss to her forehead, muttering for her to have a safe trip. Y/n only nodded, moving to the driver's seat and backing out of the driveway before pulling onto the road. Y/n finally allowed the tears to fall when she exited the gate for the last time.

When she got to her parents house roughly five hours later Y/n wanted to just go to sleep but her mind wouldn’t let her.

No, in fact, it wanted her to write.

The final piece of the book that had been nagging her for years finally played in her head. Everything from the dialogue to the final scene.

While her parents spent time with Lila, both of whom voiced their unhappiness with her decision to leave behind Caroline, Y/n’s eyes were focused on the screen in front of her. The only time she took breaks was to have dinner, use the bathroom, have downtime with Lila before putting her to bed, and share a glass of wine with her mother. Other than that, Y/n was writing until the early hours of the morning—going as far as to make edits to earlier parts of the book and change things she felt were unnecessary.

By the time the clock hit 4 am, Y/n was in need of a melatonin and 8 hours of sleep. But she was done. Done with the book she had spent so much time trying to get done. It was as though leaving Bradley was the awakening she needed to get it finished.

How fucking sad when one thinks about it.

That mid-morning, after popping a melatonin and sleeping for a few hours before having to tend to Lila, Y/n’s parents were visibly shocked by the difference in her behavior from the previous day. Of course Y/n was still deeply saddened by everything and they could tell it was affecting her, but there was also a sense of hope in her eyes. When asked about it all Y/n responded was, “I finished the book.”

Between looking for small two bedroom apartments in New York and part-time jobs, Y/n edited her book. For about six months she lived with parents, celebrating Lila’s first birthday where Y/n cried herself to sleep at not being able to do the same to Caroline. But then again, she had no one to blame but herself.

The break of a lifetime came a week after Lila’s birthday when Y/n finally got a response from one of five literary agents she had sent her inquiry to. “Hello Ms. L/n, Thank you for sending your inquiry. I’ve read your submission and am intrigued about your book. Please send me a copy of your full manuscript either through my email or a printed version to the address I have listed below. I’m interested to see what you have written and hope you get back to me soon. Sincerely, Yolanda Richards.”

Over the moon, Y/n sent a printed copy to Yolanda the next day. Nerves filled her with what the agent would think and if she would have her as a client. After researching for weeks on literary agents, Yolanda Richards was one of the best in the romance genre, with multiple NYT bestsellers under her name plus success at getting movie deals for the books. If Y/n became one of her clients it would be a dream come true.

The email came the following Friday: “Y/n, I am very pleased with your work and thoroughly enjoyed your story. Everything about it was captivating from start to finish. I would love to have you as a partner by representing you in getting your book published and on the market. Please give me a call or email me so we can set up an in-person meeting as soon as possible. I hope you accept my offer and I look forward to possibly working with you. Sincerely, Yolanda Richards.”

Almost 13 years later……Summer of 2021

Caroline’s heart was racing. She’d never been so nervous in her entire life than when the plane approached the New York skyline, the first time her hazel eyes had ever witnessed it. Even when she and her father were living in Virginia he seemed to avoid the city like the plague. Always insisting they go somewhere else for a vacation whenever she begged.

Now here she was at JFK airport about to meet the woman she dreamed of knowing all her life.

The whole journey Caroline thought back to the eight weeks of summer camp she’d just experienced. It was like fate had decided to work its magic on the third day when she came face-to-face with a girl who looked exactly like her. Though it’s rumored everyone has at least seven doppelgängers in their lifetime scattered across the globe, something about Lila L/n was different than a typical look-a-like. They were too alike physically. Dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes and standing tall at 5’5, the two were a carbon copy of one another with the exception of Lila having longer hair and bangs. “Actual twins” their campmates would say, but were complete opposites in terms of personality.

For example, Caroline dressed like she was going to the beach no matter the weather and had a knack for old music whereas Lila had more sweaters than t-shirts in her suitcase. Then Lila had an expanded vocabulary like she always was reading a poem in a fancy New York accent yet Caroline could barely tell the difference between there, their, and they’re. Lastly, Caroline was laid back and the extroverted jokester of the camp compared to Lila’s reserved, introverted, goodie-two-shoes nature.

Their rivalry was bound from the start. The end of the first week had the two already pissing off the counselors with the pranks against each other and their friend groups. Halfway through the camp duration was when the counselors had enough and placed them in the isolation cabin to settle their differences.

It was in the isolation cabin where suspicions became realizations.

First it started when both admitted to having a peanut allergy and their favorite food was chicken Alfredo pasta. They both loved romantic comedies and playing piano, neither a fan of licorice or dill pickles.

Finally feeling a friendship starting, Caroline complimented Lila’s necklace, who said it was a gift to her on the day she was born and had her initial on the pendant. Voicing the same, Caroline showed her own necklace with the same pendant only with a ‘C’ on it instead of ‘L’. That’s when Lila asked what day Caroline was born, both confirming they had the same birthday of April 21st, 2007.

Heart pumping with an feeling she couldn’t explain, Caroline revealed she was raised by her dad, who was a Navy fighter pilot and they were currently living in San Diego. “It’s only ever been me and him. He said he and my mom split when I was six months old.”

“No way,” Lila sat up in her bed, feeling the same emotion as Caroline. “I was raised by my mom. We moved to New York when I was a year old and have been there ever since. She told me when I was ten she and my dad divorced when I was six months old and he was in the Navy.”

Pushing aside her bag of hot Cheetos, Caroline began asking a series of questions. “My dad never said much about my mom, but at least once a year would give me some details of what she was like when I begged him. He said one year she had dreams of becoming a writer. What does your mom do?”

Lila’s eyes widened, “She’s an author—she’s written over ten romance novels.”

“Did your mom ever tell you how she and your dad met?”

“They met in college—at a graduation party to be exact. He asked her to dance.”

By now Caroline was gripping her hair, “Did they go to sonic afterwards where they had milkshakes and—.”

“Route 44s,” Lila finished, covering her mouth slightly. The reaction had Caroline racing to her desk to rummage through the drawer. When she faced Lila again, she was holding something to her chest.

“When my parents divorced my mom left behind two ripped photographs. One is of her holding me as a baby, the other is of her wedding day with my dad. They make up halves to a photo—but I‘ve never seen the rest. My dad doesn’t even know I have them.”

Gasping, Lila goes to her own desk and takes out a folder. Flipping through pages she gathers the two images in her own hands before turning back to the teenager. “These are the only photos I have of my dad. Like you, one is of him holding me in the hospital, the other is him in his uniform from the day he married my mom. They were ripped down the middle from the original photo.”

As though they read each other’s mind, the two started walking toward each other, already tearing up at the possibility that what they suspected was true. “On the count of three,” Lila softly said, “we show each other. Okay?”

“Okay,” Caroline agreed with a nod. They started to count down.

“One,” Lila took a step forward.

“Two,” Caroline echoed, mirroring her movement.

“Three!” Gasps left both girls when they extended their arms, each holding a half of the photograph, and slowly put them together. One showed Y/n and Bradley on their wedding day, smiling at each other looking as though they were the happiest people on earth, the other of them holding their daughters. Caroline in Y/n’s arms, and Lila in Bradley’s.

“That’s my dad!” Caroline beamed, in disbelief at the sight before her. There her father was with the beautiful woman she dreamed of meeting. Her mother.

“That’s my mom,” Lila sniffed, the teen overcome with emotion. Once they gathered themself over the initial shock they both couldn’t help but shout, “We’re twin sisters!!” Embracing in a hug filled with glee and laughter.

The idea that came to their head moments later was crazy, but after talking and voicing how they want to meet the other’s parents, the decision was made. Caroline and Lila would switch places. And they were gonna get their parents back together.

Lila told Caroline how their mom was a hopeless romantic at heart despite not having a long term relationship since their dad. The same was for Bradley apparently, Caroline confessing he only had maybe three serious girlfriends but the relationships ended because they couldn’t handle the lifestyle he was in. Or the fact he was a single father.

For the next four weeks the twins learned all about the other’s life and what to expect. “Mom wrote her first book in college around the time she met dad, but she didn’t get it finished until after they divorced. Since then she’s written ten novels—including a trilogy about to be adapted into a movie series and is currently working on a sequel to her debut book that her supporters have been begging for her to write for years. Most of her inspiration comes from what she hopes to experience,” Lila pauses to make a face, “Now that I think about it actually, her second book almost resembles her love story with dad….it’s the only one without a happy ending.” That had the twins frown, feeling more determined with their mission of getting their parents back together.

“This is the Dagger Squad,” Caroline showed Lila the pictures on her phone when the counselors gave them back for the weekend. “My dad went on a special mission two years ago before the pandemic and became friends with the people he did it with. Phoenix,” she points to the pretty brunette pilot, “well Natasha, I’ve known her since I was a baby. She and her husband have been friends with dad since flight school. And this is Maverick,” she scrolls to the next picture of her with a middle aged man in a flight suit, “He’s basically like our surrogate grandpa since dad’s parents passed away a long time ago. They were estranged for some time but became friends again after the mission.”

Lila explained the layout of their mother’s Manhattan home where they along with Y/n’s parents lived. “We always sit down to eat in the dining room as a way to have family time since mom is usually in her office writing or in meetings,” Lila explained before naming off the people in the photographs she had laid out in front of Caroline. “This is Ollie, mom’s best friend and writes romantic thrillers—he was our roommate when we first moved to New York and is often at the house more than his own. Yolanda is her literary agent who is in charge of selling mom’s books when she’s completed them and most recently got a movie deal on mom’s best selling trilogy. I call our grandmother ‘Gran,’ and our grandfather, ‘grandpa’.”

Both girls were the subject of a slight makeover with Lila having to cut her hair shorter, and Caroline getting bangs. When that happened they really were identical twins with the campmates not knowing who was who. Caroline practiced mimicking Lila’s NY accent and taught her the words to ‘Great Balls of Fire.’

“This is ridiculous,” Caroline complained when she was unable to whistle like Lila. “Is this really necessary?”

“Every teenager in New York has had to hail a cab at some point. If Mom is on the phone then I have to be the one to catch the cab—and whistling is gonna get you one more than just waving like an idiot in the middle of the street.”

Last thing to do was exchange plane tickets. Lila to SAN and Caroline to JFK.

They hugged each other goodbye, wishing the other good luck and not to forget certain things. They mostly had everything written down so they were confident they could get everything memorized by heart before they landed at their respective destinations. Caroline felt odd having to wear a long sleeve in July, but the weather for New York was cloudy with cool temperatures so she felt safer wearing the outfit Lila had picked out. She wasn’t the only odd ball, Lila was having to get used to wearing the tank top and pink Hawaiian shirt with shorts—something she never thought she’d ever wear.

They even had to exchange phones considering Lila had the lilac iPhone 12 Pro Max and Caroline had her trusty red iPhone 7 Plus. “Hey it works fine,” she defended, “until I either crack it beyond repair or it just doesn’t turn on one day then I will keep this till the end of time. So be careful with it.”

Promising to text everyday and call at least twice a week, the girls went on their way. Caroline fidgeted in her first class seat, trying to go over her notes to pass the time since it would only be a few hours for her flight compared to Lila’s cross country trip. But when the New York skyline filled her vision, the teenager was in awe.

If she wasn’t so excited she would’ve vomited from the anxiety consuming her. With her backpack on her shoulders and duffle bag in her hands, Caroline did her best to navigate through JFK until she reached the baggage claim. There her stomach did flips at the sight of Ollie waving frantically at her.

“Lila bean! Over here!” Grinning wide, she raced over to the man and was lifted into his arms. “Finally you’re back! Ugh you have no idea how crazy it’s been without you,” he set her down, making movements with his hand, “I’ve had no one to discuss the latest season of Bachelor in Paradise with because your mom’s been so nose deep in her work the whole summer—I’ve been trying to get her thoughts on if my next book should be a sexy twist on the show where every contestant has a dirty secret and one of them is a literal serial killer but she won’t budge from that computer. It’s been the only thing to distract her from being sad with you not being there—and oh my goodness,” he suddenly gasped, making her flinch, “What did you do to your hair?”

“Oh u-uh,” she stuttered nervously, praying her accent was believable. “A girl from camp cut it. I wanted to try something new. Do you like it?”

“You look fabulous,” he complimented, letting his finger run across the ends of her hair. “It suits more than I thought—you’ve always preferred it long.”

“Well I thought with me entering high school next month I was due for a change.”

Ollie gave her a look once over with an approving nod, “I dig it. Now c’mon—let’s get your bag and head out before this place gets too chaotic for my liking. Plus your mom has been texting me every ten minutes wanting to know if you’ve landed and it’s becoming exhausting.”

Caroline had to hold back cheering in victory when she successfully whistled, catching the attention of a cab driver for the pair. The drive there she was bouncing her knee, taking in the city causing Ollie to look at her confused, “My goodness, eight weeks you’re gone and it’s like you’ve never seen the city before. I promise you it’s the same as you left it.”

The teenager couldn’t help but mentally laugh at the comment, ‘little do you know….’

Arriving in Manhattan Caroline turned giddy. Before Ollie could stop her she was out of the cab with her backpack and duffle, leaving him to get her luggage as she hauled up the stairs to the three story townhouse. The door was unlocked and so she took a deep breath before pushing it open only to gasp by the beautiful interior of the home with a spiral staircase leading to the higher levels.

Setting aside her things, Caroline began to explore the ground level in hopes to find her mother or grandparents. Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, the teen entering what appeared to be a study with various bookshelves and framed photographs on the walls. A man was standing up with his back toward her, appearing to look for something particular in his bookshelf.

Caroline’s heart skipped at the realization it was her grandfather. “Hi, grandpa,” she exhaled, causing the man to spin around. Immediately he was in delight.

“Lila! You’re back!” She met him in the middle as he came around the desk, the two embracing. “And you cut your hair, my gosh! You look so different—but great!”

Taking in his scent, the older man looked at her confused before she said, “Sorry, I just missed the smell of your peppermint aroma at camp.” He laughed lightly, rubbing her back with his hand.

“Oh honey we all missed you too.”

“What’s all the commotion?” A female voice entered the picture, Caroline grinning when her eyes met her grandmother’s. The older woman gasped before her own smile took over, “Oh Lila!”

“Gran!” She raced over to her, meeting her in a hug. “I missed you!” The two held each other for a moment, her gran voicing the same and complimenting her new look just as her grandfather did.

Then Caroline heard her. “Lila darling?”

Freezing against her gran, Caroline felt her heart race. Slowly removing herself she hesitantly went to the middle of the foyer. Just as she appeared in the photographs, Y/n was as beautiful as Caroline pictured her to be. Dressed in a cashmere sweater dress, she looked radiant as the light from the window hit her. Hazel eyes shining from unshed tears, Caroline whispered in awe, “Mom.”

“You’re back!”

Just like in a movie it all felt like slow motion as Caroline ran up the stairs while Y/n descended, meeting halfway in a tearful embrace. The hug lingered with Caroline never wanting to let go, a faint sob escaping from the back of her throat and the tears falling down her cheeks—no doubt ruining the mascara she wore. But the teen didn't care. Not when she was in the arms of her mother at last.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she whimpered when they pulled away, Y/n moving to brush a finger off her cheeks.

“And I can’t believe it’s you,” the writer chuckled, letting her eyes run over her daughter she believed to be the one she raised. “Look at you, your hair is so short!”

“A girl cut it at camp for me—do you like it?”

“I love it!” Y/n assured with a smile, “You look amazing—I’m surprised that’s all. And..” Y/n tilted her head a bit, “are you wearing mascara?”

“Oh yeah,” Caroline sniffed, moving to swipe under her eyes. She forgot already that Lila wasn’t into makeup like her. “A friend I made at camp wanted to see how my eyelashes looked with it since they’re so long. I forgot I had it on.”

“Oh no worries, honey. I don’t mind you wearing it if that’s what you’d like.”

“N-no it’s okay. I don’t really think it’s my thing, m-mom,” Caroline felt another wave of emotion at saying the word ‘mom,’ making Y/n frown with concern.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing,” Caroline’s voice cracked. “I’m just so happy. I missed you so much.” Y/n awed, pulling her daughter into another hug.

“Oh honey I missed you too. It almost feels like it’s been forever.”

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut as she nuzzled against Y/n’s shoulder, “you have no idea.”

Two weeks went by of the twins living their dream. Caroline explored New York City by accompanying Y/n to her meetings with Yolanda and watching Bachelor in Paradise to not have Ollie suspicious of her. Slight worry came with how her grandfather seemed to let his eyes linger on her whenever she said something unlike what Lila would say. Three thousand miles away Lila was having difficulty being so social with their father’s friend group—her introverted self needed to get away in order to recharge at times which had Phoenix and Hangman start to question her.

“Did the social butterfly in you burn out at camp, little chicken?” Jake teased one day, “I’ve never seen you this quiet in a single week.”

Lila put on her best face, hoping he wouldn’t see right through it, “You would not believe how exhausting it was dealing with so many people on a daily basis. There were times where I dreaded going to activities and preferred staying in my cabin. They were rambunctious I tell you.” Her choice of words had Natasha eye her, bidding a look to her husband, moving closer to whisper, “Did she just use the word rambunctious?”

It seemed like everyone but their parents were beginning to catch on. The first to figure out were Nat and Jake when Bradley confessed to his daughter, who he believed was Caroline, that he was planning on proposing to his current girlfriend Marilyn Brooks. Caroline had warned Lila that their father was seeing Marilyn, but believed it wouldn’t last till the end of summer. Upset and panicked on what to do, the teenager bursted outside of the Hard Deck and began ranting to herself, accent slipping out and unaware the couple were there the whole time.

“You got something to share with the class, Care Bear?” Nat approached, head tilted down at the teenager who’d gone pale. “Because you seem to be in distress.”

“Phee, Jake,” Lila placed a hand on her chest to calm her breathing, “You both gave me a fright.”

“We gave you a fright?” Jake repeated in confusion. Never had Caroline used expressions like that before, making them more confused.

“Y-you scared me. I-I didn’t know you two were out here.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Caroline?” Natasha crossed her arms. “Because ever since you came home….you’ve been acting odd. Your appetite’s changed, you’re not as social, Charlie doesn’t want to come near you anymore” she listed off her fingers, Charlie referring to Nat and Jake’s dog who adores Caroline. “And you use these big words now.”

“And just now it sounded like you were straight from New York or something,” Jake added, “And not in the way when you impersonate it on Head’s Up, it was like it was natural for you.”

“Jake, Nat….” Lila thought rapidly to deflect. “I changed a lot over summer—my friend’s from there and helped me perfect it.”

“Alright,” Jake shrugged, “Man if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were—.” Nat slapped his arm, eyes wide with a knowing look causing him to shut up. Jake gave a tight smile to the teen, “Ignore me, I’m just being stupid.”

“Almost as if I were who?”

Natasha shook her head, “No one, Care Bear. Forget we said anything.” As the two went to go back inside, they were stunned by what the girl said next.

“Almost as if I were….Lila?”

Chills appeared on their arms, the couple slowly turning to face her again with eyes full of shock. Both were thinking the same thing: did Rooster finally tell her?

“Y-you know about Lila?” Nat whispered.

The confession rolled off her tongue, “I am Lila.”

Jake dropped his bottle of beer, the glass shattering against the wood while Nat’s hand flew to her mouth. Just as they were about to spit off the millions of questions in their head, Rooster appeared looking relieved to find the teen. “There you are, Care. Why’d you run off like that—I needed to talk to you.” Noticing the way his friends were looking as though they wanted to cry, Rooster then said, “Guys….why are you staring at her like that?”

Seeing Lila shake her head, begging them not to say anything, the two apologized and excused themselves. Later that night Lila asked to stay at their house after getting into an argument with her father about him getting engaged, where she then explained everything after a tearful reunion considering the couple hadn’t seen her since she was a baby.

“Caroline is in New York with our mom,” the confession had the two nearly faint. “We switched places at camp, which I cannot believe fate actually brought us together that way—and we’re hoping to get our parents back together because I know my mom still loves him despite all these years they’ve been separated. But now he’s engaged to that wretched woman who I know is gonna ruin his life. I-I have to call her and get them here now!”

Phoenix gently calmed the girl down, “Lila, it’s almost midnight over there. Call her tomorrow and then we’ll figure something out together.”

The call to Caroline is what got her found out by their grandfather. She was sitting at a picnic table just down the road after jumping from her seat at the dinner table. Unbeknownst to Caroline, her grandfather had followed her.

“I thought you said they would be broken up by the time I got back!” Lila shouted on the other end of the phone.

“Well that was the hope,” Caroline voiced back, “Usually he’s with them for a few months to a year—but Marilyn’s just…ugh I can’t even explain so it surprises me she’s lasted this long.”

“Well now she’s looking to become our stepmom! You have to get mom here to San Diego so we can stop them!”

“No way I’ve barely had time with her, Lila,” Caroline argued. For five minutes the twins go back and forth before ultimately hanging up. When Caroline rose from the bench she bumped into the gentleman behind her, “Oh I’m sorry, sir.” The man turned around, the familiar face staring back causing her stomach to drop. “Oh boy.”

“Oh boy,” he repeated, tsking. “How about we take a walk while the fresh air is nice?” Coming clean, Caroline told her grandfather everything from the day she arrived at camp to the day she left as Lila. Thankfully he wasn’t angry, in fact the man was overjoyed at the news.

Now it was time to come clean to the rest of the family.

The next morning Caroline was pacing in front of Y/n’s office before knocking on the door and waited for her to respond. “Come in.” Looking over the edge of her computer, the woman smiled at her daughter. “Hey darlin’, I’m almost done with this paragraph. What do you say about us going to that gyro place you like for lunch?”

“Mom,” Caroline fidgeted with her fingers. “I need to talk to you.” When Y/n continued to type, she said with an edge in her voice, “Right now. Please.”

Taken aback by the tone, Y/n saved the document and closed out before standing from her chair. “What is it, Lila?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” seeing her confusion, Caroline’s eyes glistened. “Lila.”

“Yessss? That’s the name I gave you the day you were born.”

“N-no!” Caroline finally snapped. “That’s not the one you gave me, mom.” That had Y/n puzzled, looking at her daughter with wide eyes. Lip quivering, the teen finally came clean, unable to hold it any longer. “I’m not Lila.”

At first Y/n didn’t seem to react, until a soft gasp left her as the look of absolute shock took over her expression. Her eyes filled with water, hands beginning to shake, “You’re…You’re Caroline?”

“Yes,” she nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You and dad sent Lila and I to the same camp. We met there and….well I just really wanted to meet you a-and Lila really wanted to meet dad and please don’t be angry with us, I—.” The teenager was cut off by the sob Y/n let out as she took her in her arms.

“Oh my sweet girl,” Y/n cried, letting 13 years of pent up regret, sadness, and shame finally release. “Oh Caroline.” The teen’s arms wrapped around her waist, nuzzling her face into her chest as her own tears spilled. Finally it felt like a weight had been lifted off both their shoulders. Mother and daughter reunited. “I can’t believe It’s actually you—my sweet girl.”

A tearful reunion even had Ollie emotional, the author being consoled by Y/n’s father in the doorway along with her mother. “I-I’ve never been so happy in my life. O-oh my gosh this is the best day ever!” As he cried, Y/n’s father gave her a heartfelt look before gently closing the door to allow them some privacy.

“No offense, mom—well actually slight offense,” Caroline said after explaining the situation of why the twins switched places—keeping out the fact they were planning to reunite the adults in hopes of the two getting back together. “But this whole thing was not it. I mean, c’mon, were you ever gonna tell us?”

Y/n looked deeply ashamed, wiping away at her face constantly, “I know it was wrong of us. Believe me I’ve regretted it every second since the day I left. Keeping you two apart was the worst thing we did and I hope you girls can forgive us. I let my personal issues with your father get in the way—a-and I should've never left you behind. You have every right to be angry,” Y/n paused to grab a tissue. “I honestly hoped to tell you two one day—possibly when you two were sixteen, but then I just didn’t know how to approach that after keeping it hidden so long.”

Caroline took it all in, asking the next question. “So what now?”

Y/n sighed, “Well legally you’re supposed to be with your father, and Lila with me. So we’ve gotta get you back to him. Then we go from there,” she placed her hands on Caroline’s shoulder before pressing a soft kiss to her head, “But I promise you no more secrets. And I’m not letting you go again, honey. We’ll get everything under control.”

Packing for California had Y/n a damn mess. She didn’t know what to wear and went through several options before settling on a fashionable white dress that would do well with the California heat. The sight of her was quite entertaining for Ollie, but was doing his best to offer moral support because she was really starting to lose it.

“What the hell am I supposed to say when I see him?” Y/n waved her free hand. She had sunglasses on her face and curlers in her hair with a glass of wine in one hand as she threw random stuff into a suitcase. “It’s been nearly thirteen years, Ollie. And our last day married was anything but a good parting! I-I mean I know nothing about him except from what Caroline has told me.” A warm feeling flared in her chest. “She says he’s still got that damn 80s stache—gosh what that did to me when I was with him. Only he could make a girl weak in the knees sporting something most men look horrid in.”

“Sounds like he could still make you weak in the knees, babe,” the comment resulted in a glare. “Look, you’re thinking too much alright? Just take a breather and think about the girls. This is for them at the end of the day.”

“I know,” Y/n rubbed her face, downing the last bit of wine in her glass. “Ollie, darling, I can’t go about this on my own. Will you—.”

“Accompany you to sunny California to keep you sane as you embark on this journey of reuniting with your former sexy pilot lover?” At her nod he winks and pulls out his phone showcasing his boarding pass. “Already got it booked, babe. Maybe I’ll find my own Romeo on this trip. Lord knows I have a thing for surfers and skaters—but there's a difference between New York skaters and California ones. I should know…I’ve dated both.”

When asked if she had talked with her father, Caroline subtly lied, “Oh yeah I just got off with him. Says they have our rooms reserved at the Hilton Resort in Palm Springs. He’s excited to see you.”

“He is?” Y/n raises a brow, not finding it believable, and trying to contain the flutter in her stomach. “Well, we should be on the way then. Sweetie, could you check us into our flights while I help Ollie pack the Uber?”

The man trailed after Caroline with a cheeky look, whispering under his breath so only she could hear, “liar, liar, pants on fire.” Caroline spun around to see her mom was turned the other way, bringing a finger to her lips with a wink, “shuuuush!”

When Lila brought the idea up for her and Rooster to go to Palm Springs for the weekend, the plan did not include bringing Marilyn and her parents. Thankfully Phoenix, Hangman, and Charlie tagged along too. The couple was in on the plan and only ones to know besides Lila that Y/n was just a few short hours away from arriving. They timed it so when she and Caroline landed at the airport, they’d already be checked in and waiting at the resort.

“Be warned,” the text from Caroline appeared on the phone. “Mom is DRUNK. She had two cocktails on the plane and had us stop at a liquor store to get some mini airplane bottles.”

“Oh no,” Lila moaned, causing Nat and Jake to look at her in question while Rooster was busy meeting Marilyn’s parents for the first time. She showed them the text, both reacting the same, “This is gonna be interesting.”

Charlie started to whimper, picking up a familiar scent and pulling Lila across the lobby with the couple chasing after them. Meanwhile in the elevator, Y/n remembered she left her purse on the counter. “Crap, I forgot my bag,” she giggled, stopping the closing door and moving as fast as her heels and disoriented state could take her. While she was busy gathering her lost item, Lila came around the corner with Charlie, the dog barking at the sight of Caroline in the elevator.

“Charlie!” She squealed, the animal bolting from Lila’s grasp and into the elevator before it could close. The twins connected eyes just as the door shut, Lila mentally cursing though she couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in her.

“Oh shit,” Jake mumbled with wide eyes, pulling Natasha to the side right when Y/n approached.

“Mom!”

“Oh, you didn’t have to wait for me, sweet girl, I can find the room by myself,” Lila literally had to step away from her Y/n, who had yet to realize it was Lila giving the twins decided on wearing similar outfits. She reeked of alcohol. Caroline wasn’t kidding when she warned her their mother was drunk off her ass. Besides the smell and her slight slurring words, Y/n was having trouble keeping her eyes open, “You go on up, okay? I’m gonna check out the bar real quick—have a glass of water while I’m at it.” As Y/n went to walk away she turned around with a tilt of her head, “I like that jacket by the way—were you wearing that on the plane?”

“Mom, watch out!” Lila shouted as Nat gasped with her when Y/n nearly collided with the bellboy.

“Oh goodness,” was all the author had to say, giving an embarrassed glance to her daughter before turning the corner away from their sights. Jake couldn't help but laugh, Nat holding back her own as she and Lila stared at each other in disbelief.

“The one time she should be sober and she’s completely wasted!” Lila exclaimed with a laugh at the end. “I’ve only ever seen her have one glass of wine at dinner—now she’s looking to run the bar dry.”

Phoenix shook her head with a smile, “Yeah well let her have her fun before all hell breaks loose.” Guiding Lila to the elevator, they all head to the floor where their rooms were.

Meanwhile Rooster and Marilyn had the same idea.

Attached to his arm, the woman was on a rant about what she thought was best for the lavish wedding she desired. Rooster just smiled and nodded, allowing the blonde to have creative control since he had no idea what to say. His first wedding was at a courthouse, nothing extravagant.

“Alone at last,” She hummed in relief, lips going to his neck as she giggled while his arms went around her waist. Bradley mirrored her expression, only it soon went to one of absolute shock when his gaze landed on the woman he never thought he’d see again.

Y/n was in front of him, looking like an angel in white as she stopped short in front of the elevator when they locked eyes. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, hand coming up to wave as Bradley started to lean away from Marilyn as the doors shut, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

But no, his ex-wife was really there.

“Bradley?” Y/n heard the blonde’s voice just as the doors closed, the last thing she saw could best be described was her ex-husband looking at her like she was an actual ghost. Like he didn’t expect her to be there at all.

That put the pieces together.

“Caroline Bradshaw!” Y/n strutted down the hallway, halting when the doors of both rooms opened and the girls appeared before her. With the two sporting similar looks and the same haircut it was difficult to tell who was who. A headache was forming in Y/n’s head from the alcohol, the woman moaning, “Please don’t do this—I-I’m already seeing double.” The teen on her left smiled.

“It’s me, Mom. Lila.”

“Oh darlin’!” the author exclaimed, moving to hug her daughter and place a kiss on her head. “You look wonderful. My goodness this is the happiest day of my life,” she opened her arm to bring Caroline into the hug. “Both of my girls!” Then Y/n remembered what brought her to the floor, “Not to ruin the happy moment, but I’d really appreciate it if you explained why you blindsided me.”

All of a sudden Nat and Jake appeared from the suite Lila was in. “Hi,” Nat glanced down the hall before smiling at the author. “Sorry to break this up, but might I suggest we move this discussion inside.” Coming over to the doorway of Caroline’s room, the two extended an arm to the trio. The girls entered first, and as Y/n followed behind Nat added, “Hi, you probably don’t remember us--.”

“Natasha! Jake!” Both were given a friendly kiss to the cheek, Y/n pleased to see them again after so many years. They looked at each other with a smirk when she entered the suite, “I knew I always liked her.”

Once inside Y/n threw her bag onto the armchair, “Spill it!” She pointed to her daughters sitting on the ottoman, beginning to pace in front of the couch. “Though I’m not sure which one of you told me your father knew I was arriving today, I can assure you that the man I just saw in the lobby had no clue his ex-wife would be in the same state—let alone the same hotel.”

The twins looked at each other, Lila frowning, “You saw dad?”

“Yes I did,” the woman signed, dropping onto the couch. “And gosh if I didn’t know any better he lost his spray tan because of how pale he went at the sight of me. Like I was Casper the not-so-friendly ghost.” Wincing, the author requested a cold compress for her head, Lila jumping up to get one for her. “I’ve wondered for so many years what it would be like to see your father again, but him wrapped around another woman’s arms while I stood there waving like an idiot was not what I had in mind.”

At that moment Ollie struts in with sunglasses on his face and shirt opened to reveal his chest, whistling before stopping short at the sight of his ashen best friend. “You look horrendous.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” she muttered sarcastically.”

“Why the lone face, babe?” He bids a glance to the couple entering the picture, mentally thinking how hot they looked together after Y/n introduces them all.

“I’m currently investigating why my daughters felt the need to leave out the fact their father had no idea I was coming today.”

“Oh,” his eyes went wide, slowly starting to back away along with Nat and Jake, both wearing the same expression as him. “Well in that case imma just head to the pool.”

“We’ll join you—that sounds like a great idea,” Nat says in a rush, the three turning to run but were stopped short by Y/n’s, “Hold on a second!” They slowly turn back around, biting their lips.

“Are you all keeping something from me?” Y/n looks between the three before her attention is directed to Lila’s soft voice.

“Mom, dad’s engaged…...” The news has Y/n slowly fall back to the couch, her shoulders dropping while her heart clenches. She doesn’t know why she’s so disappointed.

Actually she does know why. It’s the reason she can’t bring herself to love another person no matter how much she opens up to them.

“And she’s horrible, mom. The wicked witch of the west!”

“I met her before camp and she was so rude to me when he wasn’t paying attention,” Caroline voiced. “I thought he’d have ended things already but for some God awful reason he’s still with her.”

“We can’t let him go through with it, mom,” Lila adds with determination, “He’ll regret it for the rest of his life. And well…the only way he won’t is if he sees you again.”

Y/n can’t help but make a sound of disbelief. “Wait a moment,” she nervously laughs, sitting up straighter, “are you trying to set me up with your father?”

“Yes,” they echo together.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Caroline says followed by Lila shouting, “You two are perfect for each other!”

“Girls—stop right there!” Y/n exclaims when the three adults try to sneak out. “Did you all know about this?”

“Whaaaaat?” Ollie scoffs, trying to play it off but Y/n knows him better than that. Jake and Nat were also denying it but the author’s knowing look made all three come clean.

“Okay I had some knowledge.”

“We sorta had an idea—call it a hunch.”

“It was just so sweet and sounded like a good idea—.”

Y/n falls backward onto the cushions with a dramatic sigh, “Lord have mercy.” She found herself in the hotel bar twenty minutes later with an ice water and some concoction she requested for her hangover. To her side she noticed a pretty blonde lady take a seat and order a gin martini. “Here’s to….” She inspected the drink with a frown before saluting the blonde, “here’s to you. Hopefully your life is not as complicated as mine.”

The lady gave a tight smile, “Thank you.”

God the drink smelled horrible, tasting exactly like something no one would drink unless it was the only source of hydration. Groaning, Y/n downed the contents in three gulps just wanting to get it over with, covering her mouth with a hand when it felt like it would come back up. “Excuse me,” she mumbled when an unpleasant sound escaped, resulting in the blonde giving a look of distaste. “I would not wish this upon my worst enemy.”

“Here’s you bill, Ms. L/n,” the bartender placed the receipt on the table for her signature.

“Thank you,” she quickly scribbled her name and passed it back along with a few bills for a tip, the blonde getting a good glance at it causing her eyes to go wide.

“You’re Y/n L/n?”

Taken aback, the author nodded shyly. “Yes.” She received a squeal from the woman.

“Oh my gosh! I was just reading your latest novel on the drive here!” She moved to the seat right next to Y/n. “And my agent told me about auditions coming up for the adaptation of your ‘Bridesmaids Chronicles’ series. Ah it’s fate!” Extending a hand, the blonde introduces herself, “I’m Marilyn Brooks.”

Over by the poolside Rooster approaches another woman resembling his ex-wife, muttering an apology when he sees it’s not her and bumps into almost every person he passes, “Sorry.”

“There you are, Bradley!” Marilyn’s father comes up to him while her mother takes his arm.

“Bradley, this resort is just beautiful. Don’t you think it’s perfect for the wedding?”

“I do,” he adjusts his collar, voice turning soft when his eyes cut across the pool to the woman descending the stairs. A smile appeared on his face, “Absolutely.”

It was her.

Anything Marilyn’s mother said went in one ear and out the other, the navy pilot excusing himself with an apology as he began to make his way around the pool. “Excuse me—sorry,” he dodged a man carrying towels before doing the same to another guest. “S-sorry,” his eyes stayed on Y/n, who was walking and taking in the scenery.

Not paying attention, Rooster stumbled over a cooler, which happened to be Jake’s. The two were seated on the beach chairs with Lila and Charlie, Ollie just off to the side looking flabbergasted as he took in his best friend’s ex. Nat looked at him in concern behind her sunglasses, “Bradshaw, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he turns to her briefly, causing him to collide with a pool boy,

“Sir!”

“Dad, watch out!” Lila’s shout had Y/n turn, gasping when she witnessed her ex-husband fall straight into the pool. Nat, Lila, and Ollie all gasped with her while Jake just took his phone out to video the whole thing. Y/n had to turn away when Rooster began swimming to the side she was on, ignoring all the looks he was receiving by his little spectacle.

The poor pilot was completely drenched head to toe. Y/n fidgeted as he approached, both smiling at each other nervously.

“Hey, Y/n/n.”

“Hello, Roo.”

Wiping at the water dripping from his eyebrow, Rooster moved closer causing a warm feeling to erupt in Y/n’s chest. Gosh he had changed—of course it had been 13 years, but Lord did he have to get even more attractive? And that damn mustache had her weak in the knees but thankfully she remained composed. “It’s good to see you.”

Getting straight to it, Bradley gave her a look once over, “It’s good to see you too….but is there something I’m missing here? You don’t seem too shocked to see me as I am to see you.” Squeezing the water from his shirt, “I mean it’s been thirteen years and—.”

“Dad,” a soft voice interrupts him, Rooster stunned when he sees who believes is Caroline standing beside Y/n. “I can explain why she’s here.”

“Caroline,” he says with caution, briefly glancing at the woman to see her reaction, “you know who this is?”

“I do.” She allows her natural accent to flow, “And actually, dad, I’m not Caroline….”

Coming on Y/n’s other side, Caroline grins at her father. “Hey, pops.”

The best word to describe Bradley’s face was astonishment and pure happiness. “Both of them?” He looks at the girl he came to the resort with, eyes shining a bit with the emotion filling him, “Lila?” Then he looks at her twin, “Caroline?”

“I’m not sure if it’s fate or you both just picked the most random summer camp to send your daughters too….but we met there and it wasn’t too hard to piece it together. You know besides looking identical there was the same birthday detail and the fact we were raised by one parent.”

“They switched places on us, Bradley,” Y/n put her arm around Caroline, beaming down at her.

Rooster looked at her stunned, but smiling nonetheless. “W-what? You mean I had Lila this whole time?”

“Well I wanted to know what you were like, and Caroline wanted to know mom—are you angry?”

He answered her with a big hug, “Oh darlin’ of course not,” he kissed the side of her head, not wanting to let her go. “I’m so happy—I can’t believe it’s you!” Pulling away he ran a hand over her cheek, in complete awe of her. “It’s been so long—you were so small the last time I saw you.”

“Well I’m all grown up now….and quite without a father,” she pulls away from him to stand next to Caroline.

“And I’m about to head into high school, where I’ll be one of the few to not relate to other girls arguing with their mother on the daily,” Y/n shakes her head with a chuckle at Caroline’s words.

“Care, you’ve been in New York this whole time?” At her nod he opens his arms, “C’mere kiddo.” After their hug Y/n politely requests a moment with Bradley, the teenagers giving sly looks as they walk away.

“No problem…take your time.”

The two take a seat on one of the beach chairs, Y/n asking for a first aid kit when she notices a cut to his forehead. As she tends to him, Rooster goes, “Jesus, both of them together? Wow, I can’t believe it—this is unreal,” he then raises a brow, “How long have you known?”

“Since yesterday morning,” she explained softly, gently wiping away the blood before dabbing it with rubbing alcohol. She apologizes when he winces. “My father figured it out the other night. Honestly I’m ashamed I didn’t suspect anything—I just thought Lila had come out of her shell after camp when she was thrilled to come to my meetings where there’d be new people. And before you ask, Caroline told me you knew I was coming. Obviously, we were both deceived.”

“Talk about karma,” Rooster chuckles, not shy of calling them out on what they did wrong. “We kinda deserve it.”

“I do,” she corrects with a tight smile. “It was my idea after all.”

“Yeah,” he leaned closer, connecting their eyes, “but I didn’t stop it from happening, Y/n/n.” Seeing her hand falter at the name, Rooster tilts his head, “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” she nervously laughs, turning away to grab a bandaid. “Uh—I-I haven’t heard that name in awhile.”

“Do you not like it anymore?”

“No, no! I do like it. My dad still calls me it from time to time,” she says, putting the bandaid on his forehead. “I guess it just feels different.”

“I get it,” he nods, offering a small smile. When she wasn’t looking he unconsciously let his eyes take her in for the first time. “You look good, Y/n/n.” That was a lie, she looked incredible. Like an actual angel before him with her white dress and soft curls.

Before she could respond Marilyn appeared, causing the two to jump back when they realized how close they were. Rooster went a little red while Y/n scratched the back of her neck.

“Finally there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” The blonde said in relief, smile dropping slightly when she sees her fiancé with the renowned author, “Oh good you two met. Brad, this is the author of the series I was telling you about—the one I’m auditioning for….umm am I missing something?”

Glancing between the two, Y/n felt her heart sink at the realization the lady she met in the bar was the same woman she saw Bradley with in the elevator. His fiancé….who was in for the shock of her life when it was revealed not only were they married, but his daughter was a twin.

“Hey, Mare, great to see you again. I’m the Caroline you met at the beginning of summer. This is my twin, Lila. I was pretending to be her while she was pretending to be me,” she points to her sister before extending a hand to Y/n, voice full of pride. “And this is our mother, Y/n L/n.”

Everyone should have expected disaster to happen at some point in the weekend. The ex-wife, who Bradley may have had feelings for still, and the fiancé—who was keeping a secret of her own.

One that the girls discovered when they snatched her phone.

That night after the stunning reunion, the girls schemed their way into recreating the night their parents met. With the help of Jake, Nat, and Ollie, the group got Sonic milkshakes, Route 44s, and some food for the pair who they ordered to follow them to where they parked Rooster’s Bronco overlooking the beach.

“Clever girls,” Y/n chuckled, popping a tater tot in her mouth. “You see what they’re doing, right?”

“I do,” he laughed with her, “not a bad job if I must say. Though, we’re missing all the discarded baseball gear and beer cans.”

For about an hour the two talked in between bites of food. When the topic of their breakup came up, both tried to hide their regret as to not let the other see how it still affected them.

“It was your hairdryer,” Bradley said when Y/n asked if she had hurt him when she threw the object at him, unsure of what it was since the moment was a blur to her now. “Clipped me in the arm.”

Y/n looked away in embarrassment, though she did remind him of why she threw it, which then had the pilot frown in shame.

“But look at you now. New York Times Bestselling author, just like you wanted. It’s amazing, Y/n. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she gave a small smile. “It’s still surreal. And as much as I hate to admit it, it feels like it wouldn’t have happened had I stayed—even though I regret it.”

“You do?” he turned in his seat, tone unreadable though his eyes showed a different story. She didn’t look at him when she replied.

“I always had some regret. But because my dream came true I thought it was meant to happen. Leaving was the only way I could get it done. Then after discovering it was Caroline with me it all hit me full blast….I hurt her more than anything—and Lila. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. Now it feels like everything that happened after that day wasn’t worth it because I lost a piece of myself.” Y/n sighs, looking up at the stars, “I was just so angry with you and by what that officer said. It felt like no one believed in me and in turn why should I believe in myself. So I did the only thing I could think of….and I packed.”

Turning to face Rooster, a solemn gaze took over, “And you…didn’t come after me.”

Rooster didn’t know what to say other than, “I thought you didn’t want me too.” He was astonished by her confession, thinking how everything could’ve been different had he listened to his brain screaming at him.

“Oh well,” she sipped her drink, “It doesn’t matter now. The past is the past. Let’s just put on a happy face for the girls and I’ll be out of your hair again.”

The rest of the night Rooster couldn’t think straight. While Y/n made the arrangements for what they should do about the twins, he just nodded and agreed. All he could think about was how he let her go and regretted it everyday since. Even when they arrived back at the hotel to their separate rooms he went to bed with the image of Y/n as the last thing he saw before sleep overtook him.

Y/n was checking out of the hotel when Rooster approached the counter. “So I’ll book Caroline’s flights for December and April.”

“And I’ll do the same for Lila in the summer,” she nodded, placing her bill from the concierge in her bag. When the girls arrived moments later, both parents were speechless by their matching outfits. “Girls, what is this?”

“Well, mom, we sorta came to an agreement. And we don’t feel like parting ways just yet.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n tilted her head at the teen who spoke. She thought it was Lila, but then again the woman wasn’t sure. They were hiding their necklaces to not give away who was who. “Lila, we don’t have time for this. Our plane leaves in four hours and I have a meeting with my publishers tomorrow.”

“Cancel them,” the other told her, making Y/n’s mouth part while Rooster’s eyes went wide.

“Caroline.”

“Yes,” they both answered.

Now the adults were becoming frustrated. “Girls, this is not funny. You’re gonna make your mother miss her flight—now stop this charade and tell us who is who.”

“Mannnn that’s pretty sad, huh,” the twin on the left voiced, “Can’t even tell your own daughters apart.” She received stern looks from her parents.

Going up to them Rooster leans down, putting his hands on his hips as he tries to tell them apart. Pointing a finger at the twin on the right, he smirks, “this is Caroline. I know that smirk anywhere.”

“Are you sure, dad?” the other twin says, plastering an identical smug expression. “You wouldn’t want to send the wrong twin to New York now?”

“Here’s what we want,” the one directly in front of Rooster states, “We want to go to Penny’s end of summer bash at the Hard Deck tomorrow night—you know, the one that happens every year. We go as a family, and once we do then we will say who’s Lila and who’s Caroline.”

Both parents look at each other flabbergasted. Then Y/n threatens, “Or I take one of you with me back to New York, regardless of who you are and that’s the end of it. Sounds good?” Nothing came of it, however, when Y/n pouted as she sat in the passenger seat of the rental car Ollie was driving until they made it to San Diego. Phoning Yolanda, her meeting was rescheduled and her flight was booked for Monday morning. They got lodging at an airbnb and settled for the night with both girls staying with Y/n on the promise they will stay with Bradley after the party.

Marilyn was not happy with the news of them staying an extra day. Having to deal with one daughter was one thing, but both twins had her head spinning. There was already high tensions with the teenagers, now throwing the ex-wife into the mix made things difficult for Marilyn when she was battling for Bradley’s attention. Not to mention all of Rooster’s friends didn’t like her.

Nerves raked the author when they arrived at the Hard Deck. It was her first time at the establishment and the only people she knew coming in were Nat and Jake. Ollie tagged along thankfully but then he was distracted by the adorableness that was Lt. Robert Floyd. Both girls dragged Y/n to all of Rooster’s friends, introducing the author with pride that made her chest warm.

“Oh hey guys,” Caroline giggled when the squad’s eyes bulged out at the sight of the three. “It’s me Caroline—the actual Caroline. That over there,” she points to her twin wearing a similar outfit only it was a Rolling Stones t-shirt and not The Beatles, “is my twin Lila, who y’all have been hanging out with the last two weeks. And this is our mom, Y/n L/n. Can’t believe dad fumbled such a bag.”

“Caroline,” Y/n scolded with a shake of the head, smiling when each of the guys introduced themself. “It’s nice to meet you all, the girls have told me all about you.”

“Wish we could say the same, ma’am,” Fanboy laughs, “We only know you from when Rooster gets drunk off his ass. Loose lips you know.” Y/n felt flustered by the comment, realizing Rooster still thought of her even after everything that happened.

Penny treated the author with a warm welcome, as did Maverick who both were surprised to see each other. “Oh my gosh, you’re Pete! You guys…you two rekindled?”

“We did,” he blushes, “took some time but it worked out. I’ve heard all about you, Y/n,” he gives an awkward shake of the shoulders, “He…told me everything about a year ago when it was the girls’ birthday.”

Everything seemed to be going well until the twins overheard Marilyn speaking ill of their mother. “She’s being a snake and you know it, Bradley! Ever since she got here there’s been an ulterior motive—and I bet you those kids are in on it,” she pointed a finger with a hiss.

“You’re being ridiculous, Marilyn,” Rooster’s tone takes another edge. “She hasn’t even spoken to me the entire night except to greet us when we arrived.”

“She doesn’t have to talk! It’s all in the looks and smiles! She’s a fucking romance author—of course she knows what to do to get someone’s attention. That’s how sad and desperate she is.”

By now Caroline had enough, bringing everyone’s attention to the scene when she yells, “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” In her peripheral vision she sees Y/n, Nat, and Penny stand from their seats, moving closer to where they were.

Rooster gives a warning look, “honey, this doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” She ignores his disapproving eyes. “How dare she talk about mom like that?! You’re gonna let her speak about her that way—about the woman who gave birth to us?”

Lila steps up, glaring at the blonde, “Instead of worrying about mom, she should be worrying about who’s blowing up her phone wanting to know when to meet at the motel tonight.” They watch as all the color drains from Marilyn’s face. Rooster turns to his fiancé, confused and demanding an answer.

“What is she talking about?”

“I-I—she’s. Bradley, there’s nothing—.”

Caroline cuts her off, “Who’s Colonel Mustard?” Again Marilyn goes pale, though there’s anger in her eyes. “What a code name, Mare. I guess I better refer to his actual name, you know. Does the name Admiral Patrick Cross ring a bell?” She mocks, “oh yeah, he’s dad’s married boss at Top Gun and she’s been sending naked pictures to him all weekend.”

Gasps sounded all around, Ollie, Nat and Penny slapping a hand to their mouth where the squad and Mav all went, “oh shit!” Y/n looked at her daughters stunned before glancing at Bradley to see his reaction. The man was in disbelief, staring at Marilyn with unreadable eyes.

The blonde saw red. “You little bitch!” Before she could stop herself her hand came up and slapped the teen across the face, leaving a nice print in its wake along with a scratch from when her fake nail dragged against the skin.

Now Y/n saw red. Literally Kill Bill alarms blaring.

Marilyn screamed when her jaw snapped to the side full force from the impact of Y/n’s fist. The author had pulled her by the hair to turn her around, nearly ripping out her extensions. Blood coated Marilyn’s mouth, and a tooth even fell out by how hard Y/n had punched her. Before another blow could be landed the woman was pulled back, fighting against the hold from Ollie and Nat, “Touch my daughter again and see what fucking happens bitch—I’ll cut your fucking eye out!” While she was being dragged to the back patio to prevent from committing a crime, Marilyn ran out the front door with Rooster chasing after her.

Tears in their eyes the twins raced to their mom. When they got outside they saw her shaking the first that was no doubt throbbing. Ollie was trying to talk her down, all while complimenting how badass she was. “Oh honey,” she saw Caroline, moving to hold her. Telling Penny to bring out two ice packs, the woman brushed her uninjured hand against the teen’s cheek. It flared her anger more, wishing she could go beat the shit out of that cunt. “My sweet girl, are you okay?

“I’m fine, mom,” Caroline whimpered, sniffing when Y/n wiped the tear that fell. Her face stung and there would likely be a mark but she didn’t care. All she could feel was warmth and happiness by how her mom stood up for her. Looking at her first, the teen frowned at the discoloration. “Are you okay?”

Penny came out with the ice packs, handing one to Y/n and Caroline. “I’m fine—at least right now because my adrenaline is pumping. Give me a few more minutes and I could be in debilitating pain but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Glancing over the deck, Y/n’s face fell slightly. “Where’s your father?”

“He went after the witch,” Lila said with distaste. Caroline mirrored her expression, both twins disappointed with Rooster. The reaction had Y/n take a deep breath, controlling the anger rising which nearly snapped when the man slid open the doors of the patio and walked toward them.

“Not now, Bradley.”

“Y/n, listen to me—.”

“You went after her, dad,” Caroline sniffed, glaring up at him. “What the hell?”

“Not in the way you think, honey,” he leaned down to cup her face, careful of the mark. It was taking everything in him to remain composed. Just moments before when he was ending things with his now ex-fiancé, Rooster had to remember she was a woman and not to lose it even though she had just laid her hands on his daughter. Had she been a man….well there would be an ambulance called. “I only went after her to tell her to get her crap out of the house and expect charges for assault to be on her doorstep.”

Now that had them speechless. “Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And I’m so sorry,” he kissed her forehead, moving to hug her and opening his arm for Lila to join. “Thank you both for what you did. I owe you two for saving me.” He feels them laugh against his chest, the pilot lifting his gaze to settle on Y/n. She has a smile on her face, blushing when they look eyes. At her wince he notices her hand was now black and blue. “You should get that looked at.”

“Oh It’s fine—,” she tried to deflect but he wouldn’t have it.

“That looks broken, Y/n,” he gently moves the girls to the side so he can inspect it. The woman makes a pained sound when his fingers try to turn it. “Yeah, we’re going to urgent care right now.”

“Bradley—.”

“No excuses. Girls, let’s go.” He almost wanted to laugh at the pout on Y/n’s face, hauling her to the Bronco before speeding off to the nearest urgent care. The entire way she tried saying she was fine, but the pained expression every time she moved her hand in the slightest gave away that she was in fact not fine. The girls couldn't help but giggle at the way the adults were bickering. Like they were still married.

With a diagnosed fracture and cast on her wrist, Y/n felt butterflies in her stomach when they returned to the beach house for the girls to get their things. They would spend the final night at Rooster’s before Y/n and Ollie would pick Lila up in the morning in time for their flight. While the girls were upstairs, Y/n and Bradley sat on the deck, neither not knowing what to say.

“What time do you take off?”

“A quarter till nine,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the waves in front of her. She felt him come to her side, so close she smelled his cologne that if she closed her eyes, it would put her back in 2006. “It’s a straight shot thankfully—no layovers.”

“That’s good,” he muttered, head spinning with a million things he wanted to say but couldn’t form the words. Part of him just wanted to confess he still loved her. That he never stopped. That they should try to kick things back off. But then he thought about how their lives went. Here he was a Top Gun instructor in San Diego, and she was a bestselling author in New York.

Rooster thought of her stories. He read every single one on the market the day they dropped, feeling the heartbreak in him every time he flipped through the pages of her second novel that he knew was loosely based on their story. He remembered crying at the end when he finished it the first time. It was the only one without a happy ending.

All the books were hidden in his closet, but at least once a year Rooster would pick up one and read the beautiful words Y/n wrote. He was so proud of her, but didn’t know how to say it.

“Roo—.”

“Y/n/n—.” Both chuckled nervously when they tried speaking at the same time.

“You go,” she insisted. Wiping a sweating hand on his pants, Rooster took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled. “For what I said to you that night. And for not standing up for you like I should have,” his face was full of regret. “I was more worried about my job than you—a-and it was wrong of me to do so. I made you feel like your talent wasn’t worthy, that you’d never make it as an author and I’m so fucking sorry for saying that. You are an amazing writer and you deserve everything that has come from it. Your books are incredible, Y/n. Every one of them.”

Y/n feels her throat tighten, voice going small, “Y-you—you’ve read them?”

“Every single one,” he confesses, making her whimper slightly by the emotion erupting in her chest. “On their release day. And I read them in one sitting.”

Y/n’s heart was soaring. Never did she think he’d read her books, let alone buy them the day they came out. His confession was making it harder for her to let him go again. “Roo…” she whispers, eyes glistening as he moves closer to her.

They stared at each other for a moment. No words came out but in their looks was everything they needed to know. The love they thought had left years ago resurfaced in just a few days.

Right as it looked like Rooster was about to lean down, the sound of a car filled their ears, causing Y/n to drop her head. “That would be Ollie.” Rooster nods, disappointment filling him as he slowly backs away to enter the house, but not before giving her one last look to see her wiping her eyes. Y/n gives the twins a kiss on the head before waving goodbye when they leave. Now that he was home, Ollie wanted to know everything he missed—jaw dropping when Y/n admitted they nearly kissed.

“Why didn’t you!?’

“Because, Ollie!” She says dramatically, “four hours ago the man was engaged and may I remind you, we’ve been broken up for over a decade. Why the hell would I let him kiss me when there is no chance something would come out of it.”

“You don’t know that, Y/n,” Ollie comes around the kitchen island, wine glass in hand. “Look, you may not have seen it but my eyes know what I saw this whole weekend. And it was a man who wants to sweep you off your feet and take you to the nearest chapel.”

“Ollie—.”

“Did you not see his reaction when you clocked that bitch? My God it looked like he was about to pop a semi.” Y/n put her free hand to her face, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. The whole moment at the bar was a blur to her from the moment she saw that wrench put her hand on Caroline. It was all a haze until she was outside dealing with a throbbing hand. Barely did Y/n look at Rooster, she was focused on her daughter.

“Noooo, I did not see his reaction, Ollie. I was too busy dealing with the fact I was about to commit bloody murder.”

“Well I can assure, babe, that your sexy pilot of an ex was wanting to throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed. After of course making sure sweet Caroline was okay.” Setting down his wine glass, he gives her a stern look, “Tell me the truth, do you still love him?”

“It’s complicated—.”

“It’s a yes or no, Y/n.”

“What exactly do you want me to say,” she threw her hand out, “that yes I’m still hopelessly hung over him and wish I could go back and time to stop myself from leaving? That seeing him this weekend made me feel like a twenty-two year old girl again? That I have envisioned everyday since Caroline told me about the switch, that maybe we could pick things off where we left?” They were all rhetoric questions, Ollie allowing her to rant as tears threatened her eyes. “Of course I do—to all of the above. But this isn't one of my books, Ollie, this is real life—a-and his life is here while mine is in New York. I don’t want to leave that and how should I expect him to leave all of what he has built here for me?” Sniffing, Y/n looks away with a hand to her chin, whispering, “It’s why I left in the first place.”

The rest of the night the two packed the rental car so it was ready for the morning and watched cheesy rom-coms since neither could really sleep. They got maybe four hours on the couch, but soon their alarm woke them up to start the day. Y/n called Lila to make sure she was awake and ready before showering herself, putting on a simple outfit for the flight.

It was a heartfelt goodbye when they arrived at Roosters home. Caroline held onto Y/n for almost five minutes, the woman promising to call her everyday so she could hear how the teens' day. They spoke of excitement for the holidays with Y/n promising to take her and Lila skating around the big tree and to celebrate New Year’s in Time Square. Not too far from them Lila was held by Rooster, the teen lightly crying when they pulled away.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” He tells her, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Maybe sooner than you think, Lila darlin’.” She doesn’t think much of the comment, only nodding up at him before embracing Caroline when approaches. Together the girls walk to the car with the adults watching as Ollie gives a hug to Caroline.

“You take care of yourself, Y/n/n,” Rooster places a hand on her shoulder, “and hope you two have a safe flight.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, offering a tight smile. “And I will.” He surprises the author when his lips gently press against her forehead, squeezing her hand after it had fallen from her shoulder to hold it. They share one last look, Y/n nodding to him before walking up to the car. She and Caroline share one more embrace, Y/n kissing the teen’s head with Caroline shutting the door of the car behind her. Waving through the window, Y/n blows her a kiss as Ollie presses on the gas. Soon Rooster and Caroline grow smaller in the rear view mirror, the distance growing by the second until finally they disappear when they turn the corner onto the freeway.

On the plane Lila barely talks. She’s either nose deep in the book she bought at one of the airport shops, headphones in, or looking out the window with absolute silence. Y/n tries to have a conversation, but eventually gives up knowing her daughter needed some time. The only response she received when assuring Lila the holidays were around the corner was a sad nod. Within hours the sunny skies of California turn into gloomy clouds of New York. Rainfall greeted them as they stepped out of the airport, finding their Uber quickly to beat the afternoon rush. It took maybe an hour for them to get home from JFK, Y/n frowning when she saw Lila wipe a tear away.

Ollie was dropped off at his home first, waving to them with the promise of seeing them later for dinner. Dropping their stuff in the foyer, they call out to Y/n’s parents. “Mom? Dad?” “Gran? Grandpa?”

“I’ll check the study,” Y/n moves to the room her dad spent most of his day in. A smile appeared when she entered to see the morning’s newspaper in his hands.

Or so she thought was her dad’s hands.

Leaning against the door, Y/n spoke with a soft voice, “Hey, stranger, we’re back?”

The paper dropped to the desk, revealing a beaming Caroline in a flight suit sitting in the chair. Y/n’s jaw dropped, hand going to her chest. Caroline gave a cheeky look, “Hey, mom, did you know an F-18 can get you here in a quarter of the time compared to a commercial jet?”

All she could do was nod back slowly, feeling her heart pound against her chest. “Y-yes, I-I’ve heard. What—.” Upon her gasp when she saw Caroline, Lila raced into the study, matching the expression of her mother.

“Care! What are you doing here?”

The twin rose from the chair, “Hope you don’t mind us crashing in. But, it took us less than a minute after you guys left for us to realize we didn’t want to lose you both again.”

Y/n almost stumbled as she took a step into the study, “W-we?”

Caroline’s gaze drifted to the other entrance of the room, where Rooster appeared in his own flight suit, eyes locked on Y/n, “We.” He heard her make a sound, the hand on her chest going to her mouth. “My biggest regret was letting you walk away that day, Y/n. I’m not gonna make that mistake again. And I promise to never make you feel like you aren’t worthy of something—because you are worthy of everything you set your mind to. And I’m gonna make sure you know that everyday.”

Y/n started to feel the emotion bile in her throat, shaking her head slightly to stay strong. “A-and I suppose you just expect me to fall into your arms like I did all those years ago,” she saw a smile form on the corner of his lips, the man slowly moving closer to her with a knowing look. “And cry hysterically saying we can figure this whole thing out and have a long-distance relationship with our girls being raised here and there,” he continues to move closer, making Y/n’s heart pump faster. “—and we just pick up where we left off…with the promise of growing old together and…”

By now Rooster was directly in front of her, gaze full of love and adoration. She forgot what she was about to say, getting lost in his eyes, “oh come on, Roo. Is this supposed to be a happily ever after?”

“Yes,” he cupped her face in his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks that were warm and damp. “To all of it, Y/n/n. You write happily ever afters for a living, now it’s time for you to have your own.” He smirks adding, “Except you don’t have to cry hysterically, baby.”

That nickname combined with the offer had the tears rolling down her cheeks, Y/n nodding weakly against his palms, “Oh yes I do.” The last word was met with his mouth pressed against hers, fireworks erupting all over her body. Letting her eyes flutter shut, Y/n’s hands moved to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, feeling Rooster smile causing her to do the same.

Behind them their daughters were holding back their squeals, Lila falling dramatically onto the sofa while Caroline leaned against the bookshelf, “I can’t believe we actually did it!” They eventually moved out of the study to allow the pair some privacy, all the while they never broke the kiss until needing air but kept their mouths close.

“Wait a moment,” she ran her hands along his flight suit, “Did you steal an F-18 so you could get here before me to come confess your love—and had our daughter in the backseat?”

He gives a shrug, grinning wide, “Maybe.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” She looks at him like he grew two heads. “And how does Caroline—.”

“Well actually Mav helped me out,” his arms went around her waist, pulling her against him. “We got special permission—so don’t worry I won’t be arrested anytime soon. As for Care, Fanboy and Bob have been teaching her a thing or two about being a backseater. I think she’s getting the hang of it.”

“Oh my lord,” Y/n closes her eyes before laughing at the whole situation. Rooster laughs with her, nuzzling his head into her neck. “You are an impossible man, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Only for you, Y/n L/n.

Six months later……

Y/n wiped the sweat from her forehead, pressing the enter button with a huff of victory. The glasses were removed from her face, leaning against the back of her chair to give her body the much needed stretch. When her arms extended out to relax the tense muscle, the diamond ring on her finger sparkled against the light. The sight made her smile, eyes going back to the words on the screen.

A knock on the door sounded seconds later, “Come in.” Gently opening, Rooster appeared with a mug of steaming coffee, his own wedding band reflecting as he shut the door. “Hey you.”

“Hey yourself,” he winks, coming to put the mug on her coaster before leaning down to kiss her lips. “Lila called, the two are staying after school for a club meeting.” Y/n thanks him for the coffee, nodding at his words with a knowing look.

“I take it pizza is the move then tonight?”

Rooster chuckles, “Unless you want me to whip up some pasta, but I gotta warn you it’s not gonna be anywhere near what you get in town. Although not to toot my own horn, my spaghetti is pretty damn good. At least that’s what Caroline tells me.”

“Oh goodness, well I can eat anything at this point,” she sighs dramatically, “Or maybe we can tell them to meet us at Milo’s. I think a celebration is in order.” Rooster tilts his head confused, but then smiles at the word doc on the screen.

“You finished?”

“Yes,” she beams. “Well I finished the draft. I plan to edit it myself first before sending it off….but it’s done.”

“That’s amazing, baby,” he kisses her cheek, gesturing for her to get up so he could sit and have her in his lap. “I’m so proud of you. You got that done in a record time. Didn’t you just start that—not even a month ago?” Y/n nods shyly.

“I had a lot of inspiration. The words just flew out honestly—Yolanda is gonna have a field day.”

Rooster gets a glimpse of the last paragraph causing a smile to appear on his lips. Respecting her writer's privacy he didn’t ask much about the novel when she started writing it, only when she discussed it on her own terms. He could see the excitement in her eyes, warmth in his veins by how happy she was and couldn’t wait to read it when she finished. “May I ask what inspired this book, Y/n/n? Although, I do have a funny feeling.” Y/n didn’t have to answer, her bashful smile was enough to tell him everything. “Have you thought of a title yet?”

Glancing to her screen, Y/n read over the final paragraph stopping at the words in bold THE END. Her readers were gonna freak out when it would be announced she’s coming out with a sequel to her second released book, the one responsible for her receiving fan mail with them begging for her to continue the story. To give the characters their happy ending.

She just needed her happy ending first.

The story was being written in real time.

“I was bouncing between a couple, but I think I have it,” she faces her husband, grinning as the name slips off her tongue. It was what Lila and Caroline had coined when Y/n came to them about the book.

“I think I’m gonna call it….The Parent Trap.”

……………….

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black

[smolvenger]

Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Chapter 17: Blue Wildflowers (A Fix-It Fanfiction of The Essex Serpent)

Series Summary: The Essex Serpent is reimagined through the perspective of the saintly, sickly Vicar's Wife, Stella Ransome, giving her a new ending rather than her canon fate. A bildungsroman of Stella was raised to be a proper lady and married a handsome vicar Will Ransome. She did everything to be a perfect wife and to uphold his ministry. However, after receiving a fatal diagnosis, she learns her husband is having an affair. Her heartbreak, grief, and repressed anger are released. She finds hope, happiness, justice...and even revenge and new love.

Pairings: Stella Ransome x Male OC: Harry Cavaradossi, some Stella x Will Ransome but focusing on the angst of him cheating on her.

Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//

Ten//Eleven//Twelve//Thirteen// Fourteen//Fifteen//Sixteen

Chapter Summary: The final chapter. Harry explains why he read the letters. Stella makes decisions regarding her past...and her future. There is a visitor by the name of Seaborne. A party brings back a memory absolved from past miseries into a happy present moment. And Stella, now content, finishes her tale.

Chapter Warnings: A super brief spicy scene towards the end, swearing, discussions of penises, bodily functions, marriage, death, children, and illness are discussed. Discussions of a Major Character Death (sorry not sorry Will Ransome girlies). Stella has PTSD, gets to actually mourn the affair, and becomes Eliza Hamilton for a minute. I get to shit talk both Will and Cora, so if you like the pairing of Will/Cora you have been warned. Religion is portrayed, esp towards the end. But LOTS of fluff and comfort in this chapter.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

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A/N: THANK YOU GUYS so much for following through with this series! It was very therapeutic to write. And thank you for following Stella on her journey! So now here is that eventual happy ending I promised! Enjoy! COMMENTS, KUDOS, ASKS, AND DMS ABOUT MY WORK ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED!

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, For they shall inherit the earth.”- Matthew 5: 3-5.

“Harry! What are you doing!” I cried, rushing forward.

He jumped up where he was but kept the papers in his hand. I curled my fists- every letter was sprawled across the desk! His pink lips began to mumble out an explanation as I saw the blood rush to his face.

“You’re home early…you wouldn’t be here for another hour and…”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you reading these!? I told you not to!” I cried again, gesturing to the papers.

He leaned forward, gaining resolve.

“Stella, I’m worried about you!” he replied.

I paused. He held onto the letters, keeping them to his chest. I noticed that the old journal I kept during my time in Aldwinter was also laid open on the desk as well. On the page were words I wrote upon hearing about the threat of the snake:

“He sent the serpent into Eden’s beflowered garden, and he sends it now and the penance must be paid…”

Oh, how little I knew then! If only I could have gone back in time and warned that lovestruck church girl of what would come from marrying that curate! Or that housewife so concerned about a snake devouring her children to make sure her vicar husband stayed away from widows!

“You’re worried about me?” I echoed to him.

“Since that night you saw me with a beard, I kept worrying about that look on your face, and I kept hearing you get out of bed to sob at night. I was concerned! I wanted to know more about what happened in Aldwinter and what happened between…between Will and…and…what was her name?”

He went through the papers to check again. Taking in a shaky breath, I walked towards his chair and clutched onto it to steady myself. I hadn’t said her name out loud in a long, long time.

“Cora…her name was Cora Seaborne…that was William’s lover,” I answered softly.

I found that though I spoke her name, I didn’t die on the spot and despite the unpleasant, anxious feelings inside me, I was still very safe. She was just a word spoken and dissolved into air.

Cora was a person, not a monster, I reminded myself. A person as I am a person. We both had blonde hair. We both were mothers. We lived in Aldwinter. We loved William. We both became widows. We both have hopes, dreams, fears, and dreads. We both committed cardinal sins.

Harry continued; his forehead knotted in anguish.

“I wanted to know what happened between Will and Cora to hurt you like this…So I’d know…I’d know…how best to comfort you. How to be the husband Will never was to you…”

I let out a sigh as I picked up one letter from them.

“I used to think and wonder at that time what sin we did to bring forth the Serpent in our town…now I wonder what on earth I did to have this happen to me…” I commented.

“You did nothing wrong, Stella. Cora and William did something wrong…the blame is entirely theirs, not you…” Harry assured.

I looked down at one page. It was a draft of a letter kept praising Cora about how she lit up Will’s soul and left him speechless and filled with longing.

“I’d try to convince myself not to be jealous of her, try to tell myself I wasn’t… All that changed when I saw them at the tree…I will always be second to Cora. Worse than her. Inferior. And that was why Will strayed….” I replied.

A bitter and petty phrase was on the tip of my tongue. The sound of her name- Cora- the first syllable rhymes with the word “whore.” But that was going too far, even for me (a murderess!). I forced my lips tightly shut until the temptation to connect her name to the word faded away.

Harry got up and offered me the chair, which I sat on. He went to the hall and asked the housekeeper to bring some tea and sweets, then returned. A tear dripped down my chin. Harry gave me his handkerchief.

“How many of their letters did you read?” I asked him.

“All, I think. And a little of the journal.”

“What do you think- not as my husband now, but as someone neutral to the case- what do you think? Of them?” I asked.

Harry looked down at one letter and then let out a scoff, looking back at me.

“Honestly, what n’er do wells!” he replied.

“What?!” I gasped.

He picked up two letters, gesticulating with them with both hands.

“Will and Cora- I haven’t read interactions between two people more self-obsessed and obnoxious!” he snarled.

“Really?” I asked softly.

“Yes, really! Must this woman- Cora- drag every person she met into the mess of her life!? She and Will did nothing! Nothing but ruin everyone else’s life!”

“Mine included…” I prodded.

“Yours worst of all!” Harry agreed.

He then picked up another letter.

“Here she is talking of all the research she did around the town- how would her little hobby help anyone? She could have found ways to trap or kill it. She could have tried to find ways one could protect oneself and educate the folk frightened for their lives. And the family of the girl who went missing-What of her parents? Or the other victim’s families- William could have made tithes to help them. He could have comforted and prayed with them. Will and Cora could have done anything productive but walk around outside, bantering about science and faith and swooning over each other!”

“She told me it was love when I asked her about it,” I informed him.

“If she did love him, she would let him be with his wife and let him go!” he ranted.

“And what do you think of her…is Cora better than me…I thought because she was always so much more…more spirited and… if I was only more like her, Will wouldn't have…never have… Is she truly better?” I asked gingerly.

Harry lowered the letters and folded his arms.

“Well, if you were in her place and a woman’s husband declared his love for you, a woman who had tuberculosis and was likely to die…if you knew without a doubt, he was married to this lady- would you say yes to him?” Harry asked.

“Of course not! Never!” I cried.

He shrugged upwards and his thin, pink lips curved to smile at me.

“Yes, there is a difference between you two! You are selfless, and she is selfish. That is what selfish people do. Hurt others without thinking of it. Therefore, you are better than her…do not compare yourself to this Cora Seaborne. my dear. You are my light and my warmth. What is a candle to a star, hm? Or a coral shell by the sea to the Milky way or the constellations?” he said.

He kissed the top of my head.

“When you met her, what else happened?” he asked.

“I threatened that I’d shoot her if I ever saw her again.”

He patted my shoulder in congratulations.

“Good! Remind me later and I’ll lend you one of my old soldier pistols. If you won’t hurt yourself, you have my blessing to fight back and avenge yourself.” He said sincerely.

I nodded my head.

He then leaned against the desk. He checked to make sure the housekeeper was not around and then leaned to me to speak quietly.

“It seems if there was an Essex Serpent, it was Will’s cock…”

“Harry!”

“It’s true! The only Serpent that one needed to fear was the one between his legs! That was the real god Will was a priest of- his own cock! And Cora was the priestess, and you were the lamb at the altar…” he elaborated.

He brought out an arm and slithered it through the air as a snake does in the grass.

“Can you imagine Will’s cock slithering around Essex like a snake? A giant cock hissing? SSSSSSSS!” he teased.

“I don’t know what would horrify me more- a giant snake or a giant penis slithering about!” I replied quietly.

I couldn’t resist a smile and put a hand over my mouth as I began to chuckle. Soon we both were crying and guffawing with aching bellies, howling with laughter at the obscene metaphor.

“But you are no sacrifice here…” Harry said, bending a knee to look me in the eye.

“Then what am I?” I asked.

He clutched both of my hands as he knelt.

“Goddess divine, of course,” he declared.

I put my hand on my chest in reaction and felt a blush creep up my cheeks. He kissed my hands tenderly.

“I wanted to understand all that happened. And now I do…can you forgive me, my love?” he asked.

“I forgive you, Harry…”

“I only hope I…I will be better, a better man and husband for you.”

Looking over at a corner, there was a table where there stood an empty wine bottle. He sighed.

“Who did you even marry? You deserve a knight in shining armor, Stella, not some drunken fool…” he sighed.

“You’re not that! Well, you still drink a bit much, but you are no fool. You are my knight in shining armor, Harry, my dear!”

With a surprise, he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

“Then give your knight a kiss.”

We kissed once when the housekeeper walked in with tea and slices of cake. They were drunk and devoured, but the letters remained.

“What should we do with these?” Harry asked.

I got up from his lap. I began to gather the letters. One by one, and then into one neat pile. Anger began to burn again in my throat.

“We could give them to the children when they grow up. Let Will’s legacy be that how he humiliated their mother…” I spat, feeling my grip tighten.

“And carry the blame for their father’s actions? And sour any of the good memories and feelings they may feel for him- he was their first father, after all. And what if they discover the truth of how he died…then how sympathetic shall they think of you? Besides, Stella…I don’t think Will Ransome should be a part of our marriage. It’s a joining of two souls, not three.” Harry suggested.

I glanced down and released my breath.

“You’re right…I could…I could send the rest of them to the church back in Aldwinter…ruin his legacy after death!” I said bitterly.

“And have your whole family be blacklisted and frowned upon for one man’s sins? How will your children live when their father’s actions have condemned their whole future? And if they notice the similarities between your possession of those letters and the suicide scrap by Will’s corpse that time ago and connect the pieces…you would be practically tossing yourself into a jail cell, Stella.”

“Oh God, I’m a selfish, petty, person….” I lamented.

“You’re a human, Stella…” he reminded me.

We paused. He placed a hand on my shoulder. When we looked up, he gestured to the little lamp on the desk. On the inside was a lit candle.

“I think you know what to do,” Harry advised.

“I think it’s time…I kept these for when they would be useful. To have others believe me. To see those guilty punished. And then to free myself…” I mused.

Harry half smiled. He pointed to the second page of one letter where Will signed his full name.

“Ah- you were held prisoner by Mr. Ransome and in need of a ransom- and it seemed you ransomed yourself out of being a Ransome!” he teased.

“I’m not a Ransome in name or the word…I’m a Cavaradossi now…”

I let out a little chuckle at the string of puns. Then I filed them all into one pile. But Harry slipped his hand and took the first page.

“Let me have this one.”

“What do you need that for?” I asked.

“I need to wipe when I relieve my piss or shit!” he said.

I let out a laugh.

“I’m ready now…I’m ready to do this…” I said half to Harry and half to myself.

I went into our room to our fireplace, carrying the letters. I got the matches on the mantle and struck one until a little flame emerged from it. I then put the match to one page of Will and Cora’s letters. I watched as it curled up black, their words and banter and love confessions and declarations bleeding into darkness. Before the flame would reach my fingers, I tossed it into the fireplace. One by one I burned each page and placed them into the fireplace.

Yes, I was dying. But William, you are dead. I thought. I still have life in me, fragile as it was. And now you have none, Will. None, none, nothing.

The flames kissed and danced over the pages. It digested their words so full of selfish lust and then made it a black crumple of dust at the bottom of the fire. Again, I saw the small blueness in the center of the flames.

I watched as I destroyed each last page. They burned and then dwindled to nothing but dust.

Now any trace of William Ransome, my Will, the true Essex Serpent, was gone. I walked with lightness and slept like a babe at night. And Harry kept his promise- I had a small but loaded pistol hidden in my purse. Ready to make good my promise to Cora if I were to ever see her again.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ Though I was glad to continue life as normal, the London smog did not agree with me. It made me cough furiously while walking outside for errands. The doctor’s words haunted me.

“Get some clean air.”

One evening, after the children were in their rooms for their post-dinner hobbies, Harry and I sat down by the fire for him to read and me to sew. The dog laid down on the floor to nap, though his dark brown fur almost made him blend into it. After ten minutes, I set aside the needle and thread and looked at him.

“Harold…can we please see a doctor? The fog is getting to me. I can hardly walk for coughing…” I explained.

He set down his book.

“Any blood?”

“Rarely.”

“Then…then who says we have to live in London?” he suggested.

“What…what about your bank? Or your parties!? Or your plays?!” I asked.

He shrugged them off.

“I can throw them here! I can always travel to London if there’s a show I want to see. And I’m head of the bank- I can move headquarters. We could find a place just outside of London…would you like that? The children will understand- your health improved because of the clean mountain air. They’ll much prefer you alive and well.”

“Then by all means…let us move…”

After some searching, we found a lovely place in Kersey, Suffolk. We packed and gathered our things and moved out. A local building chosen as headquarters for the Cavaradossi bank thought the branch in London remained open. It was a comfortable cottage for all of us. A tree grew outside and stretched its branches out like a greeting friend. And there was fresh air- beautiful, bright fresh air. I loved taking a deep breath once I stepped outside. The air was crisp with winter and a light dusting of snow.

On our first day in the new place, once the boxes were set down, our faithful spaniel wagged his tail as he wandered in and out to the backyard to run about- he was far more used to being a country dog. Harry wrapped his arm around me.

“So help me, you will get all the exercise and fresh air in the world, Stella. We will walk daily- you can have a garden in the springtime. We might even try hiking if the path isn’t too steep- all of us as a family! Oh! And the lakes! We must try rowing- you a little bit! You’ll feel like new as if you were never sick again!”

Though it hadn’t and would never leave my body, I could walk about more, even if I was slower or more fragile. I coughed blood even less. I had more appetite. Only on the rare occasions, I felt myself a little dizzy while walking or a brief pain in my chest, I would use a cane. But only rarely. And of course, that first spring, I planted seeds to become a garden.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ It was seven years after my diagnosis on a Sunday when we had a visitor. The housekeeper we had approached Harry and me as we sat on our chairs.

“Excuse me, there’s a Seaborne at the door!” She announced.

I froze where I sat. I reached for Harry’s hand who clutched mine in return. I felt the color drain from my face. I wondered how quickly I could get out the pistol from my purse.

“Is it a Mrs. Seaborne?” I asked.

“No! It’s a gentleman…a very young gentleman, a Mr. Seaborne.” She corrected.

Harry and I stared at each other dumbfounded.

“Let him in,” I said.

I stood up, clutching the shawl on my shoulders.

In walked that same pale face but matured. His body was still thin but far taller. I felt myself relax seeing him, saying that old cliché that has been used before and will be used again:

“My, how you’ve grown!”

Frankie, in a nice black suit and cravat, tipped off his hat.

“Mrs. Ransome, hello! I wrote to Martha and Fanny and heard you now lived here and you…you remarried, is that right?” he asked, though his eyes darted distractedly to look around the living room.

“Yes, Frankie, I am. I’m Stella Cavaradossi now. Here is my husband- Mr. Harold Cavaradossi.”

Harry walked forward and shook hands with the young man.

“Please stay- I think you’re in time for tea!” I suggested.

He sat down at the table in the kitchen with us. His eyes flitted about, but his voice was addressed to me as he poured milk into his tea.

“It’s odd not thinking of you as Mrs. Ransome…” he commented.

“It’s odd for me too…Frankie, what brings you here?” I asked.

“I just…I worried about you. For years. I…I thought…I even wondered if you were dead…” he confessed.

“Well, she is not. Clearly.” Harry cut in.

“I just was worried, I felt…I felt bad for you. I…I didn’t know how to feel about Mama and…I was angry at you for that letter, at first, but I’m not…not angry anymore. Mrs. Ran- Mrs.-Cava….Cava- ra….“

“You can call me Stella…” I advised.

“Are you happy, Stella?” Frankie asked me. His eyes, so much like hers, softened.

I smiled at the young man.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you’re in good health- I felt so bad for you back then. All stuck in that bed, coughing that blood. How’d you get better?” he asked.

“I was sent to a Sanatorium. They didn’t cure me, but they helped me, Frankie. And you? How have you been?”

He paused hesitantly and I froze.

“I…I live in a flat now with roommates. I go to University now and…and…I’m not on speaking terms with mama as much anymore…only on occasion,” he sighed. He sipped his tea meditatively.

“But Stella…I cannot be mad at you at all now. I remember the old days when I was in Aldwinter. Of all those adults there, you didn’t fuss at me for something I couldn’t help…you made bread. You welcomed me to the town. You let me play with your children. You made me dinner and sweets- I can still taste those chocolate biscuits! I always remembered, Stella. I never forgot your kindness.”

I felt a few tears on verge of showing, but I blinked back.

Despite his small oddities, he was wonderful company. Harry enjoyed him even. Before Frankie departed, I got some scraps of paper and wrote down an address and then a recipe.

“Frankie…you may write and visit any time you like. Come visit when James - he’d be thrilled! He’s with his brother seeing Joanna at her college today, else they’d be here!”

I then showed him the recipe.

“This is how you make those chocolate biscuits if you’d like,” I explained.

He put it in his pocket.

“Of course! And thank you for the tea as well!” he wished with a smile.

As he put his hat on, tipped it, and left, I crossed my arms. I was tearing up, but I was also smiling watching him go to his taxi. I was glad I didn’t kill that boy out of my rage. My anger did not sniff out the life of an innocent, only the guilty. And here Frankie was, like a flower in full bloom. I went out to the garden and began to cry again. But they were tears of immense relief.

From then on, Frankie was like another son to me. He regularly wrote and even visited when he could. I like to think he saw me as a second mother. Though he was wise enough to never speak of his own to me.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ There was one party we were throwing two weeks later. Harry’s favorite wine was flowing, and the guests were all laughing and socializing among themselves, including some of my own family members and of course my children. We finished our dinner and two friends who played violin and piano were warming up for dances.

But as it began and guests paired up on the wider floor of our room, I felt dizzy and a slight pain in my chest. I coughed, noticing only a little blood on my handkerchief. I then dashed upstairs. I sat down on the chair. I didn’t feel completely weak, but I was taken aback my heart racing. There was the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open.

“Stella, are you alright?” Harold asked, poking his head through.

My blood froze when he stepped in, and I took in his tuxedo from the party. It continued downstairs. And beyond, there was music.

Oh, dear God, this again! I saw this scene before, and I didn’t like how things ended up. Here again was my husband in a tuxedo, me feeling bad, and a party with dancing going on. My eyes started up, dreading seeing William’s beard, dreading reliving that moment in Aldwinter…

But there was no beard on my husband’s cleanly shaven chin this time. This wasn’t the past anymore.

“I am…I just coughed a little blood and got scared, but I feel alright…” I explained.

I heard the music and some clapping and chatter going on. Even my children’s laughter.

“Do you feel well, Stella? I’ll call the party off early if you like…” he offered.

“No, don’t! it’s just…it’s just…and you with your suit I…I just…” I muttered.

I sighed deeply and wiped away the tears with my handkerchief. I saw Harry’s shoulders soften.

“Harry…I don’t know if I will get better or get worse but for tonight…tonight you won’t leave me, will you?” I asked.

He stepped forward and touched my shoulder softly.

“Oh, of course not, Stella…” he vowed.

“Hold me, Harry,” I requested.

He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. Anything, anything, I would change this- the past would not repeat itself again. Not with me.

“Is the dancing starting?” I asked.

“Yes, it is! The first one is ending- the waltz is next…” he recalled.

“Harry…I haven’t danced in a long, long time. I’d like to try and dance again…could you dance with me?”

He led me to stand.

“You only need to ask.” He responded.

As we headed to the hall, he draped his arm around mine. Then I looked at him and stopped my feet, I leaned closer to talk to him while we were still alone.

“I don't speak much of Will anymore, I try not to…I don’t want to bring him into this marriage, but I will be honest. This scene… reminded me of a memory I had with him. Do you remember me telling you about when I told him to dance with Cora?”

“Oh god, I remember now. I almost forgot…so you think that will happen again?” He puzzled.

I nodded. Harry cupped my cheek, keeping his other hand on mine.

“Stella, for each hour of your tears, I’ll replace it with an hour of happiness. I’ll take each moment of anguish and create ways to make you laugh. For each minute you felt unloved by him, I will make you feel worshipped. And if anyone, even you, tells me to dance with some other lady, I’ll refuse and dance with you instead.…”

We pressed our foreheads together, feeling the warmth and smoothness. I felt my tears had dried and I was smiling.

“Let’s dance, Harry,” I said.

We went into the main room, all cleared out. John already had one young lady as a partner on the floor. Joanna stopped her chatter among her new circle of friends to watch and James was watching as he sat, a plate of chocolate cake on his lap. Their eyes were on me, seeing if I was well enough. If I would fall or faint in dancing. Harry placed a hand around my waist, and I took his free hand in mine, our fingers intertwining. I kept a hand on his warm back. The violin and piano duo began playing. The waltz began.

We waltzed at a steady pace. I stepped into that square formation. He met mine with equality. His feet never once grazed my toes. I was keeping up without feeling breathless, weak, and with no pain or urge to cough. There was only dizziness as the crowd turned into a blur around us. I felt the warmth of his hand and Harry smiled the kindest, gentlest, most loving smile I had seen on a man, on a husband, on a person. And I returned it. I focused on his eyes as the music swelled as if giving us wings so we could fly up to the heavens and the clouds and stars themselves. Time itself stopped and there was only us as we moved together. The only feeling surging in my chest was that of joy.

Then finally, the song ended, and we paused. We clapped our hands in thanks. I glanced to see my children all looking at me with cheerful relief. When I looked back at Harry, he smiled and kept an arm around my back.

“You’re a wonderful dancer Stella, we should do this hourly,” he praised with a wink.

“Let’s drink some lemonade and then have another dance then!” I responded.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

As I write this, I have been married to Harold Cavaradossi for about ten years. Eleven years after I heard I was dying.

Harry was, is, and will be faithful to me. I know this with confidence. If there was something that needed novelty or something he lacked, something that he felt was wrong with me, he would tell me directly, his heart and eyes never wandering from mine.

I have seen the nineteenth century become the twentieth. I have lived to see Forty and past it, I may turn fifty if this keeps up. I have seen all three of my children grow up and become adults themselves.

Joanna has gone to a woman’s college, relieved it didn’t just teach women domestic arts but academic ones. She moved to London and has embraced the idea of the New Woman- she even has a suit complete with pants she enjoys wearing when she bikes. She works as a nurse for her income. She regularly writes to parliament insisting on a woman’s right to divorce her husband and does so all while she puts curls in her hair.

John is set to inherit the seniority of the Cavaradossi bank from his stepfather. He always hides sausages and treats in his pockets to spoil any dog he comes across. After schooling, he works alongside his father fervently at the bank. He is courting a young lady he is deeply in love with and intent on proposing. We are confident she will accept. To think I may live to see him married and perhaps as a grandmother!

James has grown so handsome that I often see young ladies eyeing him and he enjoys a good dance or flirtation. He enjoys reading books on theology and philosophy and shall debate them among his peers for hours, sometimes even going to church to discuss with the rectors themselves about their sermons. Though he is yet undecided as to what vocation he shall use for his life’s work, Harry tells him not to fret and to choose off on passion. He still has a weakness for chocolate and cannot resist sneaking bites of it during his classes.

I will indulge you with a glimpse into my private life in the marriage bed. It made the moment even more perfect; I think.

This morning, my husband, Harry, pleasured me in our bed. I felt the rise and bliss of that release as I repeated his name like a prayer. I went to heaven in that bed and floated down from it. We caught our breath. He removed his hand from my skirt, wiped it on the mattress, and held me close, our noses touching.

“Happy Anniversary, Stella.” He wished.

“Happy Anniversary, Harry,” I repeated softly.

I kissed the tip of his nose, his face bright red and scrunched with smiling. I reached a hand to play with his curls.

“How’s the loveliest lady in England today, hm? Not sick of me yet?” he asked.

“After ten years not yet…” I answered.

I placed both of my hands on his warm, solid chest as he stretched out, arms folded under his head. I then rested my chin on him as I looked up at his handsome face.

“Tell me the story about your adventures at sea…” I requested.

“I’ve already told that one hundreds of times!” he laughed.

“I don’t care, I like to hear it…let me hear it all, Harry, I’ll listen...especially the part about seeing the dolphins!”

He smoothed my hair as he told me about his time at sea. We hardly notice the hour pass by except for the sun slowly rising. I rose halfway in surprise, my stomach rumbling.

“I am hungry though…could we eat outside?” I requested.

Harry agreed. We dressed quickly and simply. I made sure my cane was right outside the front door, should the occasional bout of dizziness happen. Or a vision. Some say tuberculosis brings visions in a later stage but so far, they have been few and far between. I still have life in me yet and I’m determined to enjoy it. No matter how much time I have left.

We gathered our food in a picnic basket, held a blanket, and walked outside. I have a whole garden filled with flowers with as many blue ones as I could find seeds for. There is an apple tree in our front yard. Harry draped the blanket right under the tree, yet close enough that one could smell the flowers of both the garden and the apple blossoms of the tree.

Once we finished the meal, he at once grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to lay down on the blanket with him. He drowned me in kisses, and I giggled as if I was just an adolescent. I even felt one of his hands reach up to touch my thigh beneath my skirt.

“Harold! We’re outside! Our neighbors could see us!” I teased.

I saw his face, and just over the green leaves shuffling with the wind blowing through them. The sun alighting his blonde curls like a halo.

“Let them! Let them all see how much I love you, Stella…”

He kissed me with tongue and passion, tasting our meal again. We saw birds fly into the branches. They were singing their own songs and had twigs in their beaks. Soon there would be nests and eggs and chicks- new life. According to Fanny’s letters, Vincent said that the name of “Aldwinter” translated from German to English as “Old Winter”. Not here in Kersey where it was warm and so full of the promise of spring and life.

When I turned, right near the tree trunk among the grass, I found a little blue wildflower. I picked it up and bedecked it into one of Harry’s curls. He took my hand to kiss each of my knuckles and we melted into each other’s arms again beneath the shade and sunlight.

I know my time will come. And very, very likely, the consumption shall have that inevitable victory. But after such betrayal, such heartbreak, such tears, and rage …I was so at peace and happy that if I died at that moment, I thought, I wouldn’t have complained. I would finally be able to say I was content with my life.

I hope you too, no matter what may happen to you, no matter what betrayals you face or heartbreaks are forced upon you, no matter what struggles or hardships you have, you have strength. If I could, so could you. I pray that when you encounter someone like my first husband, when you find your Serpent, you stand up to him and tell him no. That you find someone like Harry or Fanny, or Mrs. Lee or Martha or the other Aldwinter ladies - someone to listen, to help, to love you and for you to love them. Or even perhaps fight for you- should the time arise- if you cannot fight for yourself.

May you go outside and if it is dark, try to find stars shining above you. Think of my name. Think of me. So, you will remember me and see that light in all the darkness and burning strong in a ball of fire, triumphant.

If it is light outside, go out and try to find a blue wildflower. Blue itself is a rare color in nature, so look very carefully. And once you find one, may you see it and be filled with that heaven-like tranquility and grace. If you like, you can try to press it. Or pluck it. Or leave it as it is and admire it before you continue your way. In a way, it’s like a piece of me watching over you, my dear reader.

For even amidst the deepest misery, as I have experienced, there are those who love us and who have yet to love us. There is life continuing without giving up. After we mourn, there is the eventual promise that one day, we will find the joy of being alive again.

I thank you so much for reading my words and hearing my story, whoever you are. Reader, I do not know your faith, but I will finish this with a prayer for your blessing. After all, you should know by now I am a woman of the Church of England.

Reader, may you be blessed. May you have hope and strength as a star or a blue wildflower. Because you have listened to me, may you be as listened to and come through your own challenges, as I have. Lord graciously hear us.

Reader, if you are one of my fellow betrayed spouses or lovers, I ask for heaven to bless you immensely. I am with you, holding your hand as you mourn and weep and rage. You are absolved, for you are the true innocents suffering from the sins of another. Lord, graciously hear us.

Even if you are not, Reader, may you reading this always ask for justice and find it, as I did. May you ask for love and find it again, as I did. May you always possess courage, as I learned to. Lord graciously hear us.

Your friend, Stella Harris Ransome Cavaradossi, wishes you the best as we depart for now.

I commend you, I commend you, I commend you all to mercy and protection.

Amen.

[carrotcouple]

The Grass Is Always Greener When You Love Me Deeper, Darling (AO3)

Happy Birthday to my wifey @rest-in-bees! You mean the entire world to me! Thank you for being by my side for the past three years! I wrote you crack and fluff with no angst!

The days have been calm, boring even. Everything goes perfectly. He wakes up, answers the multiple messages from Gin, Chuuya, Dazai and Higuchi on his phone, occasionally he has one or two messages from Atsushi, but those are usually random. He goes to the Port Mafia and does his work for the day, steals, destroys, lies and sometimes spills blood on Mori’s orders. Higuchi is always by his side making things as smooth and easy as possible for him. They’ve changed over the years, the two of them. They’ve settled in a friendship and partnership that makes it easy to interact. Of course, things are very different with the weird push and pull that Gin and Higuchi have been doing and the space between them that has gotten smaller and smaller with every interaction.

Ryuunosuke supposes he will have to talk to Gin about that soon.

In other words, Ryuunosuke is very bored. 

Nothing exciting is happening, aside from coming back home to have pistachio shells strewn all over his bed like rose petals, courtesy of Dazai. 

It’s not that Ryuunosuke is dissatisfied. He’s very pleased with how things have settled down and as he’s changed over the years, he finds this stability very calming.

Too calming actually.

He’s aching for a fight, for some kind of drama, for his heart to beat so hard he would be able to hear it in his ears and feel it in his fingertips. 

The rush that he used to feel back when he first met Atsushi is gone.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t feel it. He does feel it every now and then when he has to fight a particularly annoying group of idiots or when he meets Atsushi and his brain teeters on switching to fight or flight mode. He doesn’t get why though. 

Of course, Gin has noticed his restlessness by now and is joining Dazai in his attempts to make Ryuunosuke’s life a little more exciting. Now Ryuunosuke wakes up to life like wax statues of the grudge in his room and he’s this close to murdering both Dazai and Gin.

Luckily, with Rashoumon always with him, Ryuunosuke doesn’t fear anything other than Dazai when he has that no good grin on his face. So those wax statues are promptly and stoically disposed of.

If his neighbors screamed in terror at the sight of the grudge in the dumpster...well...that has nothing to do with him.

Anyways, Ryuunosuke is still bored and slouches on the sofas in the longue of one of the Port Mafia buildings. Higuchi tries to cheer him up with baked goods and rumors of underground wars they might have to quell.

It is on one such day, as Higuchi is trying to shove a document on the history of a Yokohama drug trafficking into his face, that Ryuunosuke receives that fateful phone call from Chuuya.

“Chuuya san,” Ryuunosuke picks up the phone immediately. He has a certain respect for the man. His fighting prowess is like no one else’s and he can put up with Dazai, in fact even push the man around himself sometimes. That deserved respect.

“Akutagawa! I need your help!” Chuuya shouts into the phone.

And Ryuunosuke’s heart goes thump, thump.

Chuuya needing his help. That doesn’t happen everyday. Chuuya tends to finish all of his missions flawlessly with no help at all. To ask Ryuunosuke for help, it has to be something very serious, something that can relieve Ryuunosuke’s boredom.

“What do you need?” Ryuunosuke is already dashing out of the longue, Higuchi shouting after him. 

“I need you to go somewhere,” Chuuya is shouting and Ryuunosuke can hear the rush of air, meaning that Chuuya is flying.

“I can get anywhere immediately with Rashoumon,” Ryuunosuke says.

“OK, do you remember the alley behind Agni Cafe?” Chuuya asks and honestly, how could Ryuunosuke forget that alley, the place where he first met Atsushi and had made Rashoumon bite his leg clean off?

“I’m right near there, actually,” Ryuunosuke says, moving as fast as he can. It doesn’t take long to see the alley and practically dive towards it.

“Right, when you get there you’ll see-” Chuuya is still flying and still shouting and Ryuunosuke slides into the alley and prepares for a fight, “-three kids that aren’t from around here, are lost and need to be escorted safely back to wherever they need to go!”

Ryuunosuke nearly spits up a lung. 

There are indeed three kids, two boys and one girl. They look like they’re maybe seven years old. They’re wearing backpacks and holding hands. Ryuunosuke almost drops his phone. The three children look up at him and Ryuunosuke has to resist the urge to leave immediately. 

“Chuuya san,” Ryuunosuke says slowly.

“You have to do it OK?” Chuuya shouts. “I would do it, but I’m on the trail of a bunch of cockroaches!”

“But I-” Ryuunosuke is desperate.

“No excuses! Bye!” And the call cuts. Ryuunosuke pulls his phone away from his ear to stare at it in pure disbelief. Why would Chuuya call him to escort a bunch of kids when he could have called maybe Atsushi?

“Ah! It’s the oniichan with the black fancy coat that Chuuya niisan talked about!” The little girl brightens up and the two boys instantly start clamouring in excitement.

“Did you see him fly?”

“He wasn’t flying!”

“Yes, he was!”

If this is some plot of Dazai’s that Chuuya has been talked into helping out with, Ryuunosuke is going to gruesomely murder his former mentor.

------o------

When Atsushi walks into the cafe, he is stunned at the number of flower vases crowding the shop. It doesn’t seem that out of place for a cafe, but Atsushi has been frequenting this shop for four years now and they’ve never had so many flowers. Lucy, his best friend, is behind the counter and muttering to herself. She looks up at him and nods. Atsushi quickly takes a seat. 

Lucy knows what he likes. 

The flowers aren’t flashy or too fragrant. They’re all small bouquets of forget-me-nots and gardenias. They’re lucky that none of the customers that visit the cafe are allergic to pollen or have asthma, otherwise Atsushi is sure the Master would have never allowed the flowers to be put up.

Was the shop trying to change the aesthetic?

“Here,” Lucy puts a coffee and a brownie with ice cream down in front of him. Then she slides into the seat across from him, holding a tall pink lemonade for herself. 

“So, what’s...with all the flowers?” Atsushi asks. Lucy sighs heavily and takes a long sip of her lemonade. There are no customers, so she is free to just sit with him.

“That’s what I want to know,” Lucy says.

“Lucy chan has a secret admirer,” Youko chuckles from the counter and Atsushi glances at the poor lady that Dazai has asked to strangle him one too many times. Then he looks back at Lucy who has her face buried in her hands.

“Ah…” Atsushi says in understanding. Now the choice of flowers make perfect sense.

“Please,” Lucy says into her hands, “tell her not to waste her salary on me,”

“What are you talking about?” Atsushi asks, leaning back and eating a spoonful of brownie and ice cream. “She does what she wants.”

“But this is too much!” Lucy looks up. 

“It’s not like she’s asking you out,” Atsushi says.

“That’s the problem! If she was asking me out, I could reject her!” Lucy snaps. 

“What’s the big deal? Just accept it. She doesn’t listen to anyone. And anyways, it’s not like you’re against it.” Atsushi shrugs at his best friend and Lucy mumbles something into the wood of the table.

“How has your day been so far?” Lucy asks, trying to change the subject. Atsushi takes pity on her and accepts her feeble attempt.

“Stopped a bomber with Kenji kun. The guy was trying to imitate Kaji Motojirou from the Port Mafia,” Atsushi explains. “Then I discovered Dazai san has been stealing things from my kitchen? Kunikida san beat him up for me.”

“Sounds like him,” Lucy nods.

“But what I can’t understand is why he seems to be stealing pointless things,” Atsushi tells her. 

“Such as?” Lucy asks. 

“The broken and rusted spatula Kyouka was going to attempt to use for something, burnt out candles, unshelling all of our pistachios and taking the shells only and other various things of the sort. To the point where Kyouka and I didn’t even realize things were missing until we thought about it.” Atsushi shrugs. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lucy mutters as the door opens and Dazai sings out a greeting and behind him comes Kyouka. 

“These are a lot of flowers!” Dazai comments. “Are they for me?”

“You wish,” Lucy rolls her eyes. 

“Ah, your coldness is blinding,” Dazai fake swoons and Kyouka frowns behind him. Then Dazai takes Lucy’s hand and Kyouka instantly smacks him on the back of his head.

“Ouch! Kyouka chan!” Dazai whines.

“Dazai san, do us a favor and leave us alone,” Atsushi deadpans. “Your advances are wasted on someone who is just about as gay as I am.”

“It’s fine. Dealing with him is equal to dealing with an idiot,” Lucy says. Dazai fake swoons again and Atsushi is tempted to call Chuuya and let Dazai listen to him scream at him. Kyouka smacks Dazai again and turns to Lucy.

“Are you OK?” she asks and Lucy flinches and turns red.

“Yes,” Lucy nods. “I am fine,”

“We only came to get something for Ranpo san before he heads out for his case,” Kyouka says. “We will be on our way soon,” she dips her head towards Lucy and then drags Dazai by the back of his coat to the counter where Dazai’s attention immediately switches to Youko who takes what he says in stride and quickly prepares what Kyouka orders. 

“Someone’s staring,” Atsushi hums into his coffee cup. 

“Shut up,” Lucy bites out. 

Atsushi just shrugs and finishes up his brownie. 

Kyouka ends up dragging Dazai out who waves enthusiastically and then his eyes zero in on Atsushi, a wild grin spreading across his face. A shiver crawls up Atsushi’s spine and he immediately feels the urge to check every single thing he owns and also make sure everyone he knows is not being faced with something unexpected. 

And then the cafe door shuts. 

“Lucy, please, if I die, my belongings go to you and Kyouka,” Atsushi blurts. 

“What the fuck?” Lucy asks, her eyes judging him. 

“And also, the stash of fancy high class tea I never use goes to Akutagawa,” Atsushi continues, absolutely terrified. With very good reason, Atsushi believes. The last time Dazai had smiled like that at someone, it had been Chuuya and Atsushi had watched Chuuya nearly destroy their office after he learned that Dazai had somehow changed his name on several of his official documents to ‘Dazai Chuuya’.

Well, they did actually get married after that debacle. 

But still! What’s terrifying is terrifying!

“Speaking of Akutagawa…” Lucy trails off. “How is wooing him going?”

“I’m sorry?” Atsushi chokes out. Being shocked is a horrible move. One of Lucy’s absolutely maniacal grins stretches across her lips and Atsushi shivers. 

------o------

Gin, Ryuunosuke believes, was an incredibly well behaved child. When they crawled in the streets searching for food, she never complained, even when her stomach grumbled loudly, she would hold onto his tattered shirt silently. When he got into fights, Gin would never let herself get caught, she would crawl into shelter if the fight was too much for her, or she would flawlessly lessen his opponents. When he would have to go somewhere, she would wait for him. When they couldn’t sleep on cold nights, she only smiled in absolute delight as he used Rashoumon for puppet shows to take her mind away from the cold. She never strayed from his side. 

Ryuunosuke was horribly naive to think that all children could be like Gin. 

It’s only been two minutes and he’s already lost sight of one of the boys. 

This makes the other two start wailing and shrieking in absolute distress. Ryuunosuke wants to yell at them to shut up for maybe five seconds so he can at least attempt to remember the last time he saw the little devil. But they’re attracting enough attention as it is. He doesn’t want to have to deal with people trying to call the police on him for trying to make a bunch of little brats stop crying. 

“Keiji kun!” The little girl starts screaming hysterically and then she starts to run off. Ryuunosuke nearly has an aneurysm. 

“Wait right there!” He snaps a little harsher than he needs to be, but he can’t help it. His only experience with children are Gin, Elise and Q. The girl freezes, but miraculously shuts up, turning to look at him with wide tear filled eyes. The boy that is still standing near Ryuunosuke looks up at him with similarly tear filled eyes, except now he looks scared. 

Fuck.

Ryuunosuke takes a deep breath. 

Calm down, think of them as Gin. Think of them as Gin. What would Atsushi do in a situation like this?

“If you run off, we’ll also have to search for you,” Ryuunosuke says slowly, nearly gritting out every word through his teeth. “That’s why we should look for…” Ryuunosuke pauses. He doesn’t know the name of the child they just lost. 

“Keiji kun,” the boy next to Ryuunosuke supplies helpfully. 

“We’ll look for Keiji kun together,” Ryuunosuke says. The little girl brightens up and she immediately dashes back to Ryuunosuke, grabbing his hand with her tiny one. Ryuunosuke flinches, pulling away from her grip instantly. She stares up at him with confused eyes. 

She doesn’t understand.

Ryuunosuke’s hands are littered in scars and callouses. He’s broken his hands time and time again to live. To live like a murderer. He shouldn’t be holding hands with a little girl who had no idea how much blood is on his hands. The only person aside from Gin willing to hold his hand is Atsushi when they’re helping each other stumble away from a finished fight.

“My name is Nana!” she beams, her tearstained face transforming. She grabs at his hand again, and this time, her grip is as tight as a child her age can make it. 

“I-I’m Koutarou!” The boy next to Ryuunosuke says. He doesn’t reach for his hand, thankfully. Instead, his fingers latch onto Ryuunosuke’s coat. 

“Oniichan, what’s your name?” Nana asks him. 

Everyone knows that Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a mass murderer. 

“Ryuunosuke,” Ryuunosuke huffs. They aren’t going to meet him ever again, so it isn’t a problem. 

“Ryuu niichan!” The two of them chirp at the same time, their eyes sparkling. 

Ryuunosuke is going to kill something.

“No,” Ryuunosuke breathes out through clenched teeth, telling himself to think of Gin. Think of Gin. “You will only call me oniichan.”

“OK!” Both of them are undeterred by the sudden spike in his bloodlust. When he was asking for things to get interesting, this wasn’t what he was asking for.

“Now, let’s go find...Keiji kun,” he says and the three of them retrace their steps back to where they started from. They find him soon enough, pressed against the glass of a confectionery shop. He’s getting the glass dirty with his grubby fingers and his nose. 

“Keiji kun!” Nana and Koutarou shout happily at the same time. He turns to look at them and smiles. 

“Oh! Koutarou kun! Nana chan! Oniichan!” he says, like nothing’s wrong. 

“What do you mean ‘oh’?” Ryuunosuke snaps before he can stop himself. Keiji’s eyes widen. Eh, well, he’s already started, so he might as well go the full mile. “Do you realize what could have happened to you? You got separated from your guardian in Yokohama. Do I need to enlighten you on how dangerous this city is?” He’s the most frustrated that he actually had to go looking for a child that wasn’t concerned in the least by the fact that he had gotten separated from his group while Ryuunosuke had to deal with his two hysterical friends. 

Keiji’s nose starts to wrinkle and Ryuunosuke watches his eyes go shiny. 

Oh for the love of God.

“Oniichan is right!” Nana comes to the rescue, sounding very stern, like she wasn’t trying to go her own way two minutes ago. “Teacher always tells us that we’re supposed to keep an eye on each other and hold hands! Keiji kun let go of my hand!” Nana says matter of factly and then holds out her hand to Keiji who seems to try to hold back his tears as he takes Nana’s hand. 

“Now,” Ryuunosuke says, already exhausted. “Let’s go to the nearest police box.”

------o------

 “Now, now,” Lucy leans forward and onto her elbows, her chin resting on the back of the folded hands. Atsushi hates that smile on her face. “Why don’t you tell me how your relationship with Akutagawa has been developing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Atsushi splutters, he can feel the heat in his face. He’s probably blushing up a storm and Lucy just sits there, staring at him with that knowing look on her face. 

“Atsushi, you do know that you’re a terrible liar, right?” Lucy asks him. 

“I know,” Atsushi hisses. “Just…” he slams his face onto the table, “I don’t think that many people have noticed…”

“Everyone has, Atsushi,” Lucy leans back, sipping on her lemonade. Oh how the tables have turned. “Everyone except for Akutagawa himself.”

“That’s because this is just me realizing he’s attractive, OK?” Atsushi snaps. “I don’t have a crush on him yet! I’ve just realized he looks nice!”

“And he’s your type,” Lucy stirs her lemonade.

“And he’s my type!” Atsushi exclaims reluctantly. “But, that doesn’t mean I want to date him or something!” 

“By the way, isn’t that him right there?” Lucy asks, suddenly looking out of the window curiously. 

“Huh?” Atsushi turns to look and almost chokes on his coffee. Lucy is right. Akutagawa is walking quite a bit of distance from the cafe and he’s holding the hands of three small children. Atsushi slams his hands down on top of the table as he shoots up to his feet. “No way!” Atsushi hisses, pressing his hands and face against the shop window in absolute horror. “Why is he with three kids?”

“Maybe he’s kidnapping them?” Lucy says, watching in disinterest. 

“Why?!” Atsushi screeches. 

“I mean, doesn’t the Port Mafia pick homeless kids off the street?” Lucy asks him. 

“They do! But!” Atsushi practically flattens his face against the cafe window. “Those kids don’t look homeless?”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Lucy raises an eyebrow at him. Atsushi glanced back at her for a second and then realizes Akutagawa is going to leave his sight in a bit. 

“I’m going to follow him and stop him if I need to!” Atsushi declares. Before Lucy can say another word, Atsushi has leapt over his seat and dashed out the door. He hears her calling his name but he’s too busy wondering how to fend Akutagawa off without involving the children. 

But first and foremost, Atsushi has to find out what Akutagawa is up to. So he slips into ‘stealth mode’, as Dazai likes to call it. It’s something Dazai took him two whole years to teach. Atsushi has perfected it now and can slip up behind Kunikida easily. The downside of using this in public is that people around him often fail to notice he’s there and accidentally bump into him. So now Atsushi has to maneuver his way around perfectly and quietly while keeping an eye on Akutagawa from an appropriate distance. 

And then one of the boys spots a shop on the side and stops, stepping away from Akutagawa. Akutagawa doesn’t realize it at first but he freezes the next second and spins around, murderous intent on his face. 

“Keiji kun!” he barks. The child attempting to become one with a glass display flinches and turns to look at Akutagawa. Atsushi may or may not have used his tiger vision to keep an eye on things properly. And he watches the little boy tremble. This calls for Atsushi to interfere!

“I’m sorry, Oniichan!” The boy wails and immediately rushes forwards to take the hand of the little girl holding Akutagawa’s hand. The little girl frowns.

“We just told Keiji kun not to wander!” The girl pouts. Akutagawa sighs like everything in the world is testing his patience and then rolls his eyes. 

“Let’s go,” he says. 

So Atsushi may not have moved from his hiding spot. But things were looking really interesting and he has not yet determined that Akutagawa was going to harm the children. So Atsushi follows silently. Watching Akutagawa holding the hands of two children is making his heart do weird things in his chest.

Atsushi has only followed them for another thirty seconds when the little girl screeches in absolute delight, lets go of Akutagawa’s hand and dashes towards a toy shop with anime character design posters on the front. 

“Hey!” Akutagawa snaps. “Nana chan!” The little girl is too lost in her own world to even hear him. Atsushi hears a familiar crackle and his heart leaps in his chest. 

No way, even Akutagawa should know better right?

Rashoumon extends from Akutagawa’s coat and Atsushi dashes forward. Only to stop when Rashoumon merely curls around the strap of the girl’s backpack and tugs her slightly backwards, halting her in place. Rashoumon slithers out and grabs the backpacks of the two boys as well. 

“I should have done this first,” Akutagawa groans. 

“Woah! What is this oniichan?” The little girl asks in absolute delight, forgetting the shop she had been looking at earlier. 

“It’s my gift, Rashoumon,” Akutagawa says, rubbing his forehead. Luckily, no one has actually noticed Akutagawa using Rashoumon. Akutagawa is kind of well-known after all, Atsushi muses. 

“Gift?” one of the little boys lights up. 

“My mom says that people with gifts are scary,” the other boy says. 

“That’s not wrong,” Akutagawa says. “But that’s not completely true either.”

Oh? Atsushi leans forward in interest. Is Akutagawa of all people giving three children a Gifted People 101?

“Just like how there are good people and bad people, some people use their gifts for good things and some people use them for bad things as well,” Akutagawa grimaces at this, probably thinking of all the gifted in the Port Mafia. Atsushi doesn’t blame him. They are a prime example after all. And the detectives in the Agency also worked on their own moral system. “I know someone who has a very strong and dangerous gift, but he can also do wonderful things with that gift.”

Atsushi flushes, was he talking about Chuuya? 

“Really?” The little girl asks, patting the tendril of Rashoumon attached to her backpack. 

“Yes,” Akutagawa says. “Now can we please finally make some progress towards the nearest police box?” He sounds like all of his patience has left him and he’s keeping himself from ditching these children with what little willpower he has. 

Wait, police box?

Atsushi’s heart does a clearly unhealthy and unnatural flip inside his chest. 

Akutagawa was helping a bunch of lost children! What the heck?

Atsushi shakes his head, turns towards the wall of the building he’s been hiding against and slams his face into the bricks. 

I know he’s your type, but you have to get a hold of yourself!

He can almost see Dazai, Chuuya, Lucy, Kyouka and Ranpo laughing at him in the back of his mind and he slams his face into the building a couple more times, ignoring the looks people are giving him. Excuse him, it’s not like it’s his fault that gifted people all seem to have something wrong in the head. He is clearly gifted, so it’s a given that he’s a little insane. Yes.

“Alright, let’s go back to following them,” Atsushi turns back towards Akutagawa and the children, only to see they’re gone. “Ah! I lost them!” Atsushi cries out. But they were heading towards the nearest police box so Atsushi knows which direction they’re heading. Atsushi quickly rushes in the direction of the police box, wondering why it didn’t occur to Akutagawa to leave the children at the Detective Agency. 

And Atsushi is so focused on heading towards the police box, he almost misses the fact that Akutagawa has moved to the side. Or rather, the children have. They’re crowding around an ice cream stand, absolutely sparkling. Akutagawa looks disgusted. 

“We need to leave,” Akutagawa hisses.

“Oniichan! Buy us ice cream!”

“Ice cream!”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!”

Akutagawa looks up to glare at the ice cream vendor, like it’s his fault for existing at all in that one place that distracted the children and Atsushi stifles a laugh as the vendor yelps in terror. Atsushi has been on the receiving end of worse glares from the mafioso. The look Akutagawa is giving the vendor is just very displeased, not I will murder you if you so much as move your mouth, so Atsushi isn’t very concerned. 

If anything the displeased look is kind of sexy, Atsushi reasons. 

“Stop!” Atsushi whisper-shrieks to himself and slaps his hands against his face. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Atsushi slaps his face repeatedly, once again ignoring the looks people around him are giving him. “Don’t give Dazai san and Lucy more reasons to torment you!”

But he is sexy! Atsushi’s mind betrays him. 

“I know!” Atsushi snaps, pinching his cheeks and daring his mind to betray him again. 

“OK, fine, what flavors do you want?” Akutagawa gives up and takes out his wallet. The three children at Akutagawa’s feet brighten like the sun and rush to hug him. Akutagawa looks absolutely horrified. Atsushi will have to see what kind of look Akutagawa would give him if he hugs him. 

“He’ll probably kill you,” Atsushi mutters. 

“Are you their older brother?” the vendor has the gall to ask Akutagawa. 

“I have a younger sister, but she is much more behaved than these three,” Akutagawa deadpans. 

The vendor chuckles very awkwardly and hands the children their ice cream as Akutagawa glares at him. Akutagawa pays him, looking like he would rather rip out his own liver than hand over money for some flimsy frozen flavored cream. 

Atsushi may be a little in love.

“Excuse me?” Atsushi asks himself incredulously. 

Oh god, he thinks he may be a little in love.

Why?

Two years of reluctant partnership and two years of a strange kind of friendship and one month of realizing Akutagawa is his type and Atsushi is in love?

Does that even make sense?

Of course it doesn’t. Atsushi must be overthinking things. 

“Let’s go,” Akutagawa says and he looks like he’s said that enough times to hate saying it. Just as he says this, one of the boys steps forward, trip and falls over, ice cream and all. 

“Koutarou kun!” The two other children cry out. The boy sits up, looking stunned with butterscotch ice cream all over his uniform and dirt on his forehead. For a moment he looks like he’s about to burst into a crying fit of distress, when the bit of Rashoumon that’s attached to his backpack lifts him up and to his feet. 

Atsushi watches in absolute awe as Akutagawa bends over examining the boy’s knees and then sighs like the most inconvenienced person in the world and uses Rashoumon to clean the front of the boy’s uniform and rub the dirt off the boy’s forehead. 

“Don’t cry from something that small. I will buy you another ice cream so watch where you’re going next time,” Akutagawa says. Then he stands up and turns around to glare venomously at the ice cream vendor. “You should know what I need right?” Akutagawa asks flatly. 

“Yes!” The vendor cries out, scrambling to get another cone of butterscotch ice cream. He hands the cone over to the little boy and the child smiles brightly despite the redness around his eyes. 

“Oniichan! We won’t get distracted anymore!” The girl tells Akutagawa. 

“That would be prefered,” Akutagawa says and Atsushi can tell Akutagawa doesn’t believe the little girl at all. But surprisingly, the rest of the trip to the police box is uneventful. With Rashoumon attached to the children’s bags and Akutagawa’s flat look that says ‘no’, they arrive in no time. 

“There’s the police box, oniichan!” The children tug on Akutagawa’s clothes. 

“I know,” Akutagawa says. “I can’t go there, so the three of you will have to go there by yourselves. Don’t get distracted, I’ll be watching you.” 

After all, Akutagawa is still wanted. Sure, the Port Mafia has helped with keeping the city safe from outside threats, but they still are the living and breathing darkness that dwells in the night. Atsushi feels a little sad about that. It makes it significantly harder if he wants to invite the other on a date. 

Atsushi doesn’t even bother fighting his own mind at this point. 

“OK…” the children look upset. 

“Oniichan,” the child that had said that gifts were scary and had also dropped his ice cream looks up at Akutagawa, “who is that person you were talking about earlier? The one with the dangerous gift?” Akutagawa frowns and then makes a face like he’s eating something sour. 

“He’s...my partner...you could say...but that’s not important! Go to the police box!” Akutagawa snaps. 

Atsushi’s entire face is on fire. 

If I don’t ask him out on a date right now, I will make Kyouka stab me.

------o------

Nana, Koutarou and Keiji cling to his coat, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes that Ryuunosuke is sure would be devastating if he isn’t more enamoured by chilling, glow-in-the-dark, tiger eyes. 

“Run along now,” Ryuunosuke nudges them with Rashoumon. Nana tears up and then hugs his leg. 

“I will come back to see you again, oniichan!” she says tearfully. The boys clamour in agreement. 

“Please don’t,” Ryuunosuke deadpans. They don’t hear him. They hold each other’s hands and then rush towards the police box. Ryuunosuke watches them slip into the police box and sighs. “Not like you guys will ever actually manage to see me again.” Ryuunosuke turns around. 

“Now, you don’t know that,” Atsushi says. Ryuunosuke nearly stabs him with Rashoumon in surprise. Atsushi’s face is red. Ryuunosuke suddenly realizes what’s going on. He nearly turns purple from the pure indignation. 

“How long have you been here?” Ryuunosuke bites out. Depending on his answer he might stab him less. 

“Since you passed the Detective Agency,” Atsushi says, rubbing the back of his head. 

So Atsushi is now dead to me, OK.

Ryuunosuke wonders where would be a quiet and unpopulated place where he might make Atsushi suffer for everything he has seen and heard. Ryuunosuke hadn’t even planned on letting Gin know that he was babysitting a bunch of kids. Was this actually what Chuuya had been aiming for? Was this really planned by Dazai? But before he can make up his mind, Atsushi opens his mouth. 

“C-can I get you something?” Atsushi blurts. Ryuunosuke stares at him blankly. What is he talking about? “Like...uh...dinner? Tea? Ice cream?” Atsushi looks like a nervous wreck and Ryuunosuke has only seen him like that a few times. 

“Why?” Ryuunosuke asks. Atsushi balks and immediately seems to look for a way out before curling his hands into fists and muttering something about Kyouka stabbing things.  

“Because I want to?” Atsushi says. “I want to get something. For you. Specifically you.”

This is a date. He’s asking me out on a date. Oh. 

Ryuunosuke can kill him on another day actually. And he can pay back Chuuya and Dazai later. Going on a date with Atsushi sounds fairly exciting in it’s own way. 

“Dinner,” Ryuunosuke says. “I’m paying.” 

Atsushi squawks. 

“But I asked you out!” Atsushi says incredulously. 

“I don’t think you can afford the place I want to go to, Jinko,” Ryuunosuke shrugs. “Come with me.” He starts walking and after a moment of staring at Ryuunosuke in bafflement, Atsushi rushes forward to walk beside him. 

“Oh thank God, I thought I would have to give you reasons as to why I was asking you out,” Atsushi breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“You have reasons listed? Let’s hear them,” Ryuunosuke says. 

“I can’t!” Atsushi turns scarlet. A flattering color, actually. Ryuunosuke turns to look at Atsushi and then hooks fingers under his chin. The color of Atsushi’s face turns darker. 

“Well, you better prepare yourself, because you’re not going to go home until you tell me them to me,” Ryuunosuke says, mostly because the look on Atsushi’s face is so highly entertaining. He looks like he’s going to combust. Ryuunosuke’s lips twist into a smirk, deciding to really go to the end. “You better remember that you are the one that asked me out on a date, Atsushi,”

Ryuunosuke watches Atsushi’s entire brain fry in that one moment and he walks away, chuckling to himself. Atsushi is standing frozen, looking like Ryuunosuke gave him permanent brain damage. 

“Are you coming or not?” Ryuunosuke asks.

“I am!” Atsushi snaps out of it and rushes after Ryuunosuke. 

Maybe Ryuunosuke will actually have to thank Dazai. 

------o------

A/N - Phew! Writing fourteen pages of crack and fluff with no angst? It required quite the effort from me! Especially cause I always randomly slip in angst without even realizing it! Every single time I slipped in angst while writing this, I smacked myself and rewrote it. In case it wasn't obvious, the flowers in the cafe are from Kyouka. My wifey and I discussed the idea of Aku using Rashoumon as a backpack leash earlier this year, which birthed this fic. The fic title is from Michela's 'Chameleon'!

[deadpcnned]

let’s talk about... sex? you&me? (s.b. x reader)

pairing: sirius black x reader 

summary: sirius and y/n struggle with the two things that make a relationship. sex and communication. 

warning(s): mentions of sex, uh i guess “steamy” scenes but no smut, sirius is written possibly ooc, also kinda angst ? 

word count:  6.7k 

a/n: this is sort of a mess but i enjoyed it anyway so oh well :p ALSO if you think anything i wrote in this is unconsensual in anyway pls lmk i do not support that AT ALL. anywayy here’s my first fic on this account hehe

A giggle left Y/N’s swelling lips as Sirius lowered her onto his bed. It had been luck that none of his dorm mates were there, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have cared if they had been. Not when the girl in front of him was letting out such beautiful labored breaths, a sound that only he got to hear. 

Y/N reconnected her lips to his, bringing her hand to cup the back of his neck. Sirius’ lips left hers again, but she didn’t have to let out the whine that was at the back of her throat as he began to nip at the skin of her neck, immediately turning it into a strangled moan. Tilting her head she allowed him to pepper straggled kisses down her neck to the exposed skin of her shoulder that peeked out from her jumper. Or rather his jumper. One of his hands gave him support as he hovered over her, while the other was pressed firmly to her side. He let the pad of his thumb rub circles into more exposed skin and Y/N felt the knot in her stomach grow. It was as though she couldn’t get enough of him. Her hands moved down from behind his neck to start unbuttoning his dress shirt. Sirius began to pull away from her neck but she quickly caught his lips in hers, causing him to smile against her. Her desperate kisses let him know just how badly she needed him. But as he pulled back again, he shifted his body so that he was now laying beside her, his arms sprayed out above him. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden lack of touch and she turned to Sirius with questioning eyes, “Are you okay?” 

“Hmm,” Sirius looked at her with his eyebrows shot up, as if the sudden shift of energy was completely normal. “Oh yah, of course, love. ‘M just tired. Wanna cuddle?” 

No. Y/N didn’t want to cuddle. Not when she could still feel his hands on every part of her he had touched and the effects of those touches on the parts he was yet to. But if Sirius was tired, then that was fine. It was actually only right. So she quietly rested her head on his shoulder (not missing the way he stiffened for a second), finding a different kind of pleasure in the way his fingers eventually began to run through her hair. 

It had been a few days since the awkward occurrence and Sirius seemed to be making it a point to do virtually everything in public. Every second that he had to spend with Y/N alone, he always seemed to be suggesting they spend it in some public area. Studying? The library. A walk? Near the quidditch field, where his mates seemed to interrupt every few minutes. But now they were running back hand in hand straight into the common room, trying to make sure they reached before Filch caught up to them. Their laughs were loud and their breath heavy as they ran through the portrait hole. Sirius collapsed onto the common room couch, not paying much mind to how empty the common room was. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Y/N/N,” Sirius spoke, still attempting to catch his breath. “Ditching potions to try to sneak into the kitchens was bloody worth it. Even if Filch might still be on our arse.”

Y/N chuckled as she stood across from the dark haired boy, taking in the site of him. He had shut his eyes and was clutching his stomach with one of his arms while the other was extended across the right side of the sofa. He was smiling, though, indicating that he truly did enjoy their endeavour. Merlin, he was beautiful. 

“If it was such a good idea,” drawled Y/N, her legs slowly carrying her closer to the Gryffindor boy. “Why don’t you give me a treat?” Sirius’ eyes snapped open as he felt her fall into his lap and her hands cup his shoulders. 

“After all, I didn’t really get that dessert…” she spoke, looking at him through her lashes. Sirius gulped, as he hesitantly wrapped one hand around her waist. Before Sirius could convince himself otherwise, he was responding to her. 

“You’re right,” He rasped. “Bloody Filch. How am I gonna treat my girl?” At this point their noses were brushing against each other, lips mere inches apart. 

“Mm, I have a few ideas,” Without another word, Y/N connected their lips. Her right hand weaved itself through his black hair and he let out a groan as she tugged on it. His hand had snuck under her robe, traveling up to her bare thigh as it reached the edge of her skirt. As Y/N realized Sirius made no plan to go further, she decided to take initiative. Pulling her lips away, she inched closer once again, lightly biting his bottom lip. Sirius gasped and she stuck her tongue into his mouth. Sirius didn’t even try to fight for any form of dominance as her tongue explored his mouth. All he could focus on was the way her hand was clutching his shoulder so tightly and the noises she was letting out against him. She moved her hand from his neck down his chest, and slowly (so slowly that Sirius wondered if he might’ve imagined it) she let her fingers barely brush past his crotch. But Sirius was sure he wasn’t imagining the way he was hardening underneath her. He quickly brought his hand to her neck, pulling her back and effectively disconnecting their lips. 

“Wha-” Y/N yelped, as Sirius set her beside him and jumped up from the couch. 

“Y/N! I completely forgot, James and I thought of this wicked prank!” Y/N hazily stared at the grinning boy, still trying to pull herself down from the high she had been experiencing. 

“Sirius, why don’t you tell me about it with James… you know, later.” She had a pout on her face, but Sirius laughed ignoring it. 

“Yes, let’s go right now. I’m pretty sure him and Peter are headed to the library after class.” He grabbed her hand but she halted his movements, causing him to look back at her with a confused expression. 

“There’s still an hour before classes end. We can’t go back right now.”

“Oh it’ll be fine, we can just go to the last of our classes,” Sirius began to walk, but was stopped once again by a quiet voice. 

“That’s alright. You should, um, go back to class. I think I’m going to head up to my dorm.” Sirius cringed at the way Y/N’s voice cracked at the end of her sentence, but he made no effort to show her he noticed. He nodded, his shit-eating grin unwavering. As she quietly went up the stairs Sirius sat back down on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. 

Upstairs, Y/N wiped her unwanted tears as she sat down on her bed. Sirius and Y/N had been together for nearly a month, which may not have been very long, but they had been pining after each other for a year and for even longer subconsciously. She was more than ready to go farther than just kissing with Sirius, but he seemed to be on a completely different page. Of course, Y/N didn’t mind that the guy she felt so deeply for wasn’t ready to go farther. In fact, she wanted him to feel more than comfortable when they did get there. What bothered her was that it was Sirius that she felt deeply for. Sirius Orion Black, the infamous lady’s man. He had slept with so many girls at Hogwarts that he had lost track (no really, he tried to keep a list when he had first lost his virginity). The same Sirius Black that had told Y/N that it was childish of her to not talk about sex with him because it was “completely natural and something friends talk about” when they were fourteen, was now making no move to do anything of the sorts. How was she not supposed to feel insecure when he had been thinking of James Potter while making out with her? What the fuck. 

Despite her insecurities and, frankly, her sexual frustration, Y/N had put her qualms aside by the next day. If Sirius wasn’t willing to have sex yet, that was completely his decision and she had to respect that. So, she sauntered into one of the classes they shared seating herself down next to him and kissing him on the cheek. She playfully winked at James who was glaring at her (he hadn’t quite forgiven the couple for kicking him out of his spot next to his best mate). 

“Hey,” Sirius said cautiously. “I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“I overslept,” Y/N responded honestly. “I missed you though.” She grinned cheekily at the boy in front of her as she rested her arms on the table in front of her, resting her head on top. 

Sirius chuckled, scoffing, “Yah? You saw me yesterday.” He carefully watched her to see her reaction to him referencing the previous afternoon. But when her smile remained intact, he felt himself relax. She wasn’t angry. 

“I know. What can I say, you have that effect on me.” Sirius’ smile grew even larger, which Y/N didn’t think was possible but was so glad it was. “We’re still on for tomorrow right?”

“Obviously,” Sirius rolled his eyes, jokingly. “I would never miss a date with my girl.”

“Never? Be careful, Black. That’s a deadly promise.”

As the next day rolled by, Sirius found himself knocking on the young girl’s dorm. The door opened to reveal red hair and a pointed look. Lily stared at the boy in front of her and seemed to be sizing him up. 

“Lily?”

“Yes?”

“Um, is Y/N there?”

The red-head narrowed her eyes and carefully said, “she’s just finishing up in the bathroom… So where are you taking my friend, Black?” 

“Oh, c’mon, Lily. Don’t act like a stranger,” Sirius scoffed, obviously referring to the pair's very close friendship. Lily, who — though she’d never admit it— knew she was being a tad bit dramatic, kept her face stoic as she replied. 

“Well, when you date my best friend, this is the Lily you have to deal with. You chose this, Black.”

“If it means I get to date the girl of my dreams, I’d say it's an easy price to pay,” Sirius cheesily spoke, but the look on his face was genuine enough to elicit a positive reaction from his red headed friend.

“Good answer, Black. You’re welcome to come in,” Lily smiled, rolling her eyes. 

“Why, thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you, Potter.” Howling with laughter, Sirius dodged the pillow Lily harshly chucked at him from her bed (“I will never be a Potter!”). Sirius placed himself on Y/N’s tidied up bed and found himself smiling at her corner. He had been here multiple times before, but something felt so different now. Suddenly the muggle nightlight she kept between the corner of her bed and her night stand made his heart beat faster. And now getting to see the moving pictures of her friends and her lining her walls was a reminder of how lucky he was to be accepted into her life. And the poster of some famous wizard made his stomach turn with jealousy. Every mundane thing about her side of the room, had him spiraling out of control. 

“You didn’t have to meet me here, I could’ve just come to the common room,” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his head and he shot up taking her in. She had a short white dress adorning her body and a carnation pink cardigan in her hand. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, defining her cheekbones that carried a light blush. She looked gorgeous. She was gorgeous. 

“Thought I’d pick you up from your door like in those muggle movies you like.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not exclusively a muggle thing, but still very thoughtful, nonetheless,” Y/N mused, leaning up to kiss her boyfriend. 

“Yes, please pretend I’m not here.” Laughing, Y/N pulled back from Sirius. Apologizing to Lily, the couple left hand in hand. 

“Alright, babe, what’s the plan for today?” Sirius inquired, his hand quickly wrapping around Y/N’s shoulders pulling her closer. 

“Right, so since we still have class tomorrow, I know we can’t go anywhere, really. But I wanna show you something special. ”

“Ooo, somewhere special you say? Now tell me, where can my precious Y/N be taking me?” 

“You’ll just have to see,” Y/N winked up at the boy. 

Y/N’s destination had been the herbology greenhouse, which had sparked a lot of questions from Sirius. She explained that she had asked a professor to let the two of them spend some time there if they promised not to touch any of the plants. At first, Sirius had begged Y/N to let him steal some of the ingredients he needed for an upcoming prank he had planned on Severus, but quickly quieted down when he saw the disappointed look on his girlfriend's face. As he finally started to listen, she began to explain why the two of them were here. The night had ended with the two deciding to sneak some leftover dinner out of the kitchen and eat it in the astronomy tower. 

Huddled under James’ invisibility cloak, the teenagers tried to keep their giggles at a minimum.

“Oh, would you stop knocking your head into mine?”

“Me?! You stop!”

Finally, after a lot of hushing and, as a result, even louder laughs, they had made it into the Astronomy tower and were now situated on the floor. The pair ate their dinner in a comfortable silence, each of them reflecting on how they had felt that day. Sirius felt loved. They hadn’t shared the three words yet, but there was no other way to explain it. It felt like he had finally found the light out of the tunnel that he had been running through for the past six years, ever since the Sorting Hat had placed him in the house that bled red and gold. He felt loved, safe, worthy. And that terrified him. Throughout the last six years, all he had heard was that he ruined everything. The taunts came from the only other woman he had ever loved. Yes, it was in a very different way but it was his mother. He loved her and all she had ever done was tell him he didn’t deserve the same in return. But as he looked at Y/N as she silently gazed at the stars in front of her, he knew she would never hurt him like that. She was here to stay. Despite this, he still couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he was yearning to do. 

However, Y/N wasn’t on the same page. She began to move her hand up and down Sirius’s thigh as she rested her head on his shoulder, peering up at him. “Sirius?”

“Hm?” But he never got a reply, instead having her capture his lips in a sloppy manner. She shifted so she was propped back on her elbows and Sirius responded by laying her down further.  After a few more moments Sirius could feel that this was once again headed in a direction he had been avoiding. His suspicions were confirmed when Y/N let her fingers play with the hem of his sweater, as if waiting for him to give her some form of permission. As she waited, she brought one of his hands to rest low on her inner thigh, giving him access to move it where he wished. Sirius’ mind was yelling for him to pull away, but as he looked at her laying beneath him he couldn’t help but give into his desires. His hand disappeared under her white dress and pinched at the soft skin of her thigh. Y/N let out a whimper as he began to rub circles in addition to occasionally pulling at the skin. Sirius pulled his lips away at the same time that he moved his hand to rub against her lace underwear. He couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut as she let out quiet moans at the way his fingers were moving against her core. Sirius’ lips trailed down her throat as he considered what was happening. There Y/N was, underneath him, her arousal pooling in his hands, and her breaths showing just how desperately she needed him, and yet he couldn’t go through with what he wanted. Sirius opened his eyes and - somehow surprisingly to Y/N - pulled away, heaving. But Y/N figured if he wasn’t going to respond to her physical hints, she would just use her words. 

“We don’t have to stop,” Y/N mumbled, resting her hand on his cheek as she stared into the swirling storm of his eyes. 

“No, that’s okay.” Taken aback by his brashness, Y/N let a few minutes pass before she spoke. Everything in her mind was telling her it was a bad idea to voice her concerns, but she had to at least communicate with her fucking boyfriend. 

“Sirius?”

“Yes, love,” Sirius was looking out the window, his arms now extended behind him propping him up. 

“Why won’t you fuck me?” Sirius’ eyes snapped up to Y/N’s, a look of pure shock on his face. She wanted to run away and never meet his eyes again, but she held her ground. This was normal. Couples talked. 

“I- what? I’m not not - I don’t,” Sirius blabbered before he was cut off by Y/N.

“Don’t bother denying it. I mean you’ve been avoiding doing anything past making out, which is fine! I just… i just wanna know why, is all.” Her gaze was stuck on the ground as she whispered the last part.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sirius said, dumbfounded. 

“Um, I guess - well, are you uncomfortable? Are you not ready yet?” Y/N’s suggestion was innocent, but all Sirius heard were accusations. Sirius wasn’t necessarily the most mature lad and Y/N implying he was nervous about having sex (one of the things he prided himself on knowing best) seemed like an attack to his pride. 

“What? Of course not. I am not the least bit unready.”

“Oh, great then! If you’re worried about me, then you don’t need to be. I’m ready too, Sirius. I really want you.” FUCK. Sirius’ bloody ego had gotten in the way of his only decent excuse as to why he wouldn’t have sex with his own girlfriend. Who was now even closer to Sirius, a welcoming smile on her face. 

“N-no. I mean I’m ready but…” 

Y/N stared at Sirius unsure of what to do. This was definitely the most awkward moment the two had found themselves in in all the years they had known each other. Staring for a couple more seconds, Y/N leaned closer only to have Sirius lightly push her back. 

“Siri-”

“I DON’T WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU, Y/N!” He had uprooted from his spot and was now staring down at the girl, making her feel like an irritating child. She slowly rose up from her spot, tears now brimming her eyes as she looked at Sirius.

“Oh… so it’s me.”

“No.” Upon her eyes looking at him with a little more hope he quickly sputtered out, “I mean, yes. Yes, it’s you.” And just like that, tears were streaming down her face. She quickly ran around the slender boy, invisibility cloak be damned. Sirius’ shouts be damned. 

The next morning, Y/N had decided what had to be done. She greeted Lily with a smile as she normally would. She got ready for class as she normally would. And went down to meet up with Remus (who had a tendency to wake up late, just like her) as she normally would.

As the two friends talked casually, Remus didn’t even realize Y/N had sat down next to him in the Great Hall. But everyone else had. Y/N and Sirius had sat next to each other since second year. James claimed one side of Sirius’ while Y/N claimed the other. Even James had at times sat in other spots around the table, whether it was to try (and fail) to charm Lily or to tease Peter and Remus. But Y/N had never sat anywhere but next to Sirius and Sirius next to Y/N.

As the werewolf and witch’s laughter finally died down, they looked up to see the whole table staring at them. It was at that moment that Remus noticed the empty spot to the left of the boy across from him. His eyes shifted back to the girl next to him, watching as she quietly ate her food. 

“So, Y/N,” James began, a questioning look in his brown eyes. “Don’t wanna sit next to your boyfriend today?”

Sirius’ eyes were already trained on Y/N and the solemn look on his face couldn’t be missed. Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before turning to James, a polite smile on her face as she replied. 

“Don’t have a boyfriend to sit next to,” She deadpanned. The clash of a fork was heard and now everyone, but the one person he wished was, was staring at Sirius. Unbeknownst to Y/N his eyes had gathered tears and he was looking at her as if his world had turned dark. Which it had. Her words had extinguished any form of light and now he was just wandering blind. He quickly shot up from his seat, looking frantically at the faces around him before running out of the Great Hall, ignoring his friend’s requests to slow down. 

“What the fuck was that, Y/N?” Y/N had expected James to be the one to shout at her, even Remus maybe. But when she recognized the voice as that of Lily’s her eyes shot up and she furrowed her brows. Had she really messed up? It might’ve been dramatic, but she didn’t think it was uncalled for. He didn’t want to be with her, she was cutting him loose. But the way Lily was staring at her, the judging glare she reserved for everyone but Y/N, made her question whether her ploy of embarrassing Sirius was worth it. But she was also upset. Maybe irrationally, but genuinely upset. So she shrugged her shoulders and continued to eat. 

The rest of the day had gone by at an alarmingly slow pace. Y/N’s head was pounding the entire day and all she wanted was to crawl into her bed. She hadn’t seen Sirius in any of their classes and Remus had informed her that he hadn’t attended other classes either. She felt guilty at his words, but she didn’t let it show as she told him she didn't really care what Sirius was up to. The worst part of the day was that while everyone seemed to be treating her normally - granted a little cautiously - her best friend had been giving her the cold shoulder. Since when had Lily become a fan of Sirius? The two shared a strong friendship, but she had warned Y/N at the start of her relationship that Black wasn’t the type of guy you trusted with your heart. Of course, at that time she had been referring to the fact that he often only sought out relationships with girls that ended in him receiving a sexual favor. Ah, the irony of it all. 

With Lily giving her the silent treatment and her growing headache, Y/N had opted to stay in her dorm for dinner. Instead, she decided to take a short nap to keep her from feeling everything she felt right now. 

“Wake up.” The voice that woke Y/N up from her sleep was harsh and belonged to none other than Lily Evans. As Y/N slowly sat up, Lily pointed to the plate of food she had brought her before exiting the room. It wasn’t fair. Sirius probably had all his mates with him consoling him (or rather cheering him on for his new found freedom) and Y/N didn’t even have the one person she was meant to. Sighing, she picked at her food and had a small conversation with Alice who had stopped by for a bit. Y/N could tell she was dying to ask her about the break up, but was refraining. One thing she could definitely go her entire life without dealing with, was the rumors she was bound to hear the next day. 

It had been a couple hours since Lily had left the plate with Y/N and Y/N’s ability to sleep had seemed to disappear. Which meant it was just her and her thoughts. She wondered if Sirius was okay. No person, let alone a man like Sirius, would be happy with the way she had ended things with him. She felt stupid for caring about what he felt. He basically said Y/N was sexually repulsive. The boy that fucked anything with legs, had said he didn’t want to sleep with her. The boy that was supposed to make her feel special.

Yet, all she could think about was that her notes wouldn’t be good enough today to give him for the classes he had missed. And she hoped that he had ate a proper lunch because in the last week him and Peter (who had been missing with Sirius at lunch) had been too busy playing stupid pranks to eat proper meals. She also wondered if he had talked to any other girls. She knew plenty of girls, even some of her friends, that had put their plans of seducing Sirius on hold because of her new relationship. Feeling the little bit of food she had managed to consume travel back up, she forced herself off her bed heading to the common room. She had to distract herself. 

She noticed her friends in one corner of the room, but when Lily’s cold gaze met hers she looked away and headed to another corner. She was lucky enough to find a few of her other friends to converse with. She hadn’t really put much input in the conversation, but she listened carefully to what her friends said in hopes that their gossip would distract her. 

“Y/N.”

Y/N’s eyes trailed up to meet Remus’ soft ones and a sympathetic smile on his face. He nodded his head to the other corner of the room, indicating for her to follow him. She slowly followed him, her nimble fingers playing with the frayed edges of her cardigan. 

“First of all, missy,” Started James a mischievous smirk on his face. “You are not allowed to just sit away from us. Even if some of us are being unnecessarily harsh.” Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she realized he was referring to Lily. His Lily. But in that moment she was too grateful to worry, especially when he lovingly wrapped his arms around her shoulder letting her rest her head on his chest. She mumbled an apology and wrapped her arms around the torso of the boy that had treated her just like a sister since first year. 

“‘s no problem, bug. Just don’t make the same mistake twice.” She nodded her head, falling back asleep within minutes. When she woke up, James wasn’t holding her anymore and instead she was wrapped in a soft cashmere blanket on the same loveseat. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when they did she had the breath knocked out of her. Across from her, on a slightly longer sofa, was the boy that had just been in her dreams. Sirius looked different from in her dreams, he appeared troubled even in his sleep. But beautiful nonetheless. 

Y/N quietly walked over to where he was laying, crouching next to him. She knew it was wrong but all she wanted was to feel his skin under the tips of her finger. She carefully moved the hair that had matted to his forehead behind his ear. She didn’t miss the way he was sweating and the smell of fire whiskey that left his open mouth. But she stayed right there next to him, tracing her fingers lightly across his cheek. Y/n wished she could freeze time right there. Because this way, he wasn’t bothered by her and she could have him right by her side. 

“You lost the right to touch me when you broke up with me,” Sirius’ rigid voice startled Y/N and she quickly pulled her hand back. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were up. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” her words left her mouth in a rush. Hastily, she began to head for the stairs but Sirius caught her wrist before she could leave. 

“Don’t go. Please.” The vulnerability in Sirius’ voice was enough to make her turn around. He was still laying on the sofa and he made no effort to explain himself. He just looked straight into her eyes, the fireplace casting shadows across his face. Her wrist was itching from his touch and her eyes burning from his stare. She swallowed her nerves and sat at the end of the sofa, releasing herself from his grip. 

“I shouldn’t have been so childish this morning,” Y/N murmured, her eyes looking straight at the fireplace. She shifted her gaze to look at him knowing she had to do this. “I’m sorry for the way I ended things, I should’ve done it in a more mature way.”

“You shouldn’t have done it at all.” Y/N would’ve scoffed if it wasn’t for the fact that Sirius looked like he was one wrong move away from falling apart. 

“That isn’t fair, Sirius,” Her voice rose slightly, but she recognized that the common room wasn’t the right place for her to unleash all her emotions. “You can’t expect me to stick around when you don’t even want me.”

Sirius simply sighed, using his arms to get up and bringing his knees to his chest. “You’re crazy stupid, love.”

Y/N was ablaze with anger now and was about to get up before deciding against it. She was going to speak her mind, no running away from this. 

“Yah, I’m so crazy for not wanting to be in a relationship where the guy I love doesn’t even want to have sex with me.” She was so angry she didn’t even realize what she had said.

“I love you too,” The raven haired boy replied, breathlessly. 

“What?” 

“You said you love me. Do you mean it?” Y/N cursed under her breath before looking at her lap as tears began to fall from her eyes. 

“Yes, Sirius. I love you,” The tears were falling harder now but she persisted. “But don’t lie to me. If you don’t love me, that’s okay. But stop pretending you do,” she was sobbing now. Her whole body was racking with sobs as she brought her hands up to cover her face. The long forgotten headache was slowly creeping back into her head and all she wanted was for it all to stop. But apparently the universe had other plans for her, because she was now being wrapped into the arms of the one person she wanted to get the farthest away from but also impossibly close to.

“I would never lie to you,” Sirius began, rubbing the young girls back. “Especially not about this. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t think you could ever understand how much I need you.”

The young girl didn’t respond, instead just letting her heart pour itself out in the arms of the boy who was squeezing it. Eventually, she pulled back from Sirius. He felt cold. Despite the fire that was lit right next to them, he felt so cold without the contact of her body. 

“How,” she sniffled. “How can you love me but say what you said last night? Do you think I’m unattractive? Or is it something I do?” Sirius had never seen the girl so unsure of herself. She almost always exuded confidence. Authentic confidence. He couldn’t believe that the girl he was meant to make feel secure, was doubting herself because of him. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. You are the sexiest girl I have ever seen. And that’s not just some bullshit I’m spewing to make you feel better. No, I mean you are literally the sexiest girl in all of Hogwarts and I am yet to find someone more attractive than you in any other place I’ve spent time. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible. You’re so fucking hot that - Merlin, this is embarassing - in fourth year I had my first wet dream about you.” At this the girl in front of him couldn’t contain the chortle that left her throat. 

“What?”

��I know, it’s so fucking embarassing. I never told you because I thought if I expressed how attractive I thought you were it would ruin our friendship.”

“Oh,” sensing the forlorn feelings creeping back into her mind, Sirius continued.

“But you’re also beautiful. Like heaven and the stars above on earth, ethereally beautiful. Do you remember last year, when you, Lily, me and the boys went to that muggle ball over summer holiday. The one Lily took us to? I, um, actually one moment,” Sirius without another explanation ran up the stairs. However, within seconds he ran back down a book in his hand. “You can’t tell anyone but I have a journal-”

“You have a diary?

“A journal.”

“I like when guys write in diaries.”

“It’s a diary, actually,” Sirius smirked when he saw a bigger smile spread across her face. He wouldn’t stop till he got one that met her eyes. “Well, this is my diary from fifth year. On the day we went to the ball, I wrote quite a lengthy entry - I’m sure you remember a lot happened that night. But, I wrote this first. I think I might be fucked. I’ve never doubted how attractive Y/N is, but today was different. She looked like an angel. I mean a literal angel. Her dress was gold and it had one of those necklines that makes a v-shape. That’s probably what they’re called actually. But, by Godric, she looked so gorgeous. When she was walking down Lily’s stairs to meet up with the boys and I, I had to pinch myself. I actually pinched myself, because I thought I was at my bloody wedding. A wedding?! Why the fuck did I think I was marrying my best friend? How is it humanly possible to be that beautiful?’”

“A wedding?” Y/N’s eyes were blown wide, as she looked at Sirius with worry.

“Don’t worry, love. We both know I have a tendency to be a bit dramatic We can table the wedding talk for a few years from now,” He winked, and this time he heard the laugh she let out. “What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is that your looks are not even in the question. Neither is anything you're doing. Which by the way can I just ask, how are you so good at that shit?” 

Her cheeks flushed and she was glad that it was dim in the room. Ignoring his question she proceeded with one of her own, “Then why, Sirius? If you’re ready and I’m ready and your diary knows that, why don’t you want to sleep with me?”

“I do, more than anything. I don’t know why I didn’t just say that yesterday,” Upon receiving a skeptical look, he continued to explain himself. “I want to be with you in that way and in every way possible, but I don’t want to rush it. Not because I’m nervous, per say, but because that’s what I always do.”

“Baby,” Sirius shifted closer as he heard the endearment leave Y/N’s lips. “I know you're more experienced than me, but that doesn't bother me. I’m not going to think that I’m just another one of your conquests, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“That was one thing I was worried about, but I also just think I need to take it slow for me. I’ve never had a girlfriend before. You had that one git early last year,” He grumbled, eliciting an even louder laugh from you. “But, I’ve never been in anything serious. And I think I need to assure myself that I can build a connection - a romantic one, that is - outside of sex. I’m quite shit at communicating, as we have gathered from recent events. I need to work on stuff like that first I think.”

The y/e/c eyed girl felt her heart swell as the words left his mouth and it took everything in her not to throw herself on top of him. 

“Are you upset?” It was Sirius’ turn to basfully face away, as he awaited a response. 

“How could I be?” Y/N moved closer to Sirius so that they were both face to face and her hands grabbed his. “I’ve been blessed with the best boyfriend in the world.” Sirius’ ears perked up at her words.

“Boyfriend?”

“If you’ll forgive me? I should’ve tried to understand you better. I shouldn’t have been so rash.”

“Wasn’t only your fault, I definitely had my part to play.”

“Hmm,” She hummed. She pulled at his hand in a way that indicated she wanted to lay down. He pulled her into his chest as she continued. “In that case, we can work on it while building our connection.”

“I like the sound of that,” Sirius nuzzled his chin into her hair, before resting his cheek over her head. “Now, tell me. How was your day without the amazing Sirius Black?”

“Oh, Sirius,” she started, already feeling better that she could vent to him. “It was utter shit. I mean not only did I not have you, Lily was so angry with me. All of the boys were so sweet, but Lily wouldn’t even look at me.” 

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Um, I might’ve told only Lily everything I just said to you, this morning. And I might’ve left out my harsh words last night.”

“Sirius!” Y/N tried to hit her fist against his chest, but he caught it easily. 

“I’m sorry! The boys wouldn't have understood what I was saying. I’m actually the most sensible of the bunch.” 

“Okay, well that just isn’t true. But too bad, Lily’s my best friend, you get the three boys that barely make one brain together and I get the smartest girl in our year. Do you understand?” She sassed, only a little mirth evident in her voice. 

“Yes ma'am,” Sirius grumbled. 

“Good.” 

“You’re wrong by the way,” Sirius spoke, continuing upon seeing Y/N’s confused stare. “You’re the smartest girl in our year.” 

She rolled her eyes before replying, “I can’t be the sexiest and the smartest girl.” 

“That’s why you’re so amazing, you defy the odds!” At his compliment, the girl simply mumbled for him to shut up and he pulled her closer. 

“Y/N, can you say it again?” She didn’t have to ask him what he meant. She knew.

“I love you, Sirius,” She whispered, pressing a kiss against his clothed shoulder. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“I love you.”

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - II

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3291

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: N/A.  Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

Chapter I  -  Chapter III  Chapter IV  Chapter V  Chapter VI Chapter VII

You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together. 

You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly. 

The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.

The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him. 

Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.

"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."

Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering. 

"To know each other?"

"Yeah. Like a  game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."

"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."

"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.

"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"

"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"

"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"

"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"

Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.

"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.

"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. " 

Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.

"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.

"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."

Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious. 

You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.

"You are ok, Jungkook?"

He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yes."

"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."

Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.

"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points. 

"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."

"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.

"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"

________________________________________________________________

At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.

 You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window

."Good nigth, officer." 

You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate. 

"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.

"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."

He made an approving sound.

"Papers please."

You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.

"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."

He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought. 

"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.

"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"

"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.

He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway. 

Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.

 You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.

The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________

"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."

Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.

"We're at home?." His face got bright.

"Yeah. Come."

It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.

 You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.

"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.

Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.

"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.

"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."

"Ok."

You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark. 

Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.

You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat. 

"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"

"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."

"Hi." Jungkook tryied.

"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."

And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her. 

"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"

Yeri got up and turned off the TV.

"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger. 

"Ok." You said.

"Ok." She said. 

She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.

Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.

"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.

"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.

"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."

You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.

"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.

"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."

You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.

"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.

"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.

"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.

Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.

All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.

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Tag list: @stayunderthelights​ ​  @deolly​ @panconte​

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Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.

[cowboyshit]

PART THREE OF ?

Previously: one, two Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Female OC (Hazel Baker) x Matt Jackson Summary: Rodeo/Cowboy AU - And just like that, fate has brought Hazel back to none other than Adam Page. Though last time they’d crossed paths he’d seemed eager to be rid of her company, Adam confesses the truth in his feelings for her and admits that he hasn’t forgotten her this entire time they’ve been apart. But now Hazel has serious feelings for Adam’s close friend, Matt... yet even she can’t deny that she has an indescribable connection with Adam that just can’t be ignored. Rating: explicit Length: 30,074 words Warnings: unprotected sex x2, angst, characters being idiots and not communicating their feelings properly... oh also probably some gratuitous horse knowledge no one cares about. you know, the usual.

author’s note: I wanted to get out this next part out as a holiday gift for all you amazing people who have been so encouraging about this series. I honestly can’t tell you how much your comments mean to me and how much pride and joy I feel at every little like or reblog or interaction with this fic series. At the start of 2020 I told myself this would be the year I finally wrote something that got to 50k words. I am proud to say with this installment Starlight is currently at 68k words, surpassing my goal. Hell, maybe it’s taken me an entire year to write it, but still, I did it! Now my next goal for 2021? Actually finish a story for once - this story. I have the outline planned and I can’t begin to explain to all of you how much your support and encouragement keeps me going to get the rest of this story out there. Anyways! Long note out of the way, I just want to sincerely thank you guys for your support of this fic series. It really means the world to me. Oh also - yeah... things are about to get VERY messy in this fic.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

Four months. Sixteen weeks. After barely an evening of talking, if even. After inches away from a kiss, never quite knowing what that touch would have felt like. Something told him – kept telling him – it would have been life-changing. Some nights he was grateful he didn’t know; some nights it tormented his sleep, left him kicking and twisting as he turned this way and that, grunting in irritation as he wished sleep would be a reprieve from her memory.

Prone to worrying, there were times he wondered if he was building her up into something she wasn’t. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as he remembered her being. A soft, round face; brown eyes that he could almost guarantee must be covered by a film of gold in the sunlight; silky, dark brown hair that made his fingers itch like mad to curl around and comb through; a body that begged for his palms to frame the natural pinch of her hips; a smile that made him catch his breath, that made him feel like the leading man in one of those old romance movies his mama used to watch.

No, she was beautiful, though it wasn’t her physical beauty that clung her to his memory. It was that feeling of being with someone he suddenly wasn’t afraid to talk with, who he willingly found himself opening up to before he remembered he hated opening up to people. The way he couldn’t stop smiling every time their eyes met, as though their souls shared a secret.

Maybe she would have stopped haunting him, were it not nearly every weekend he heard her name. He should have been prepared for the consequence of bowing out to Matt’s interest in her, but he wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. As Matt talked about her at the rodeos with his brother, with Kenny, it was nothing pointed or directed specifically at Adam. If anything, it seemed Matt forgot altogether there’d been an energy between Hazel and Adam, and Nick seemed to never broach the subject of how close Adam had been with her when he found them.

But sometimes when Matt laughed on the phone with her after a run, and Adam’s fingers tightened on whatever he was holding, Nick would look at him and it almost seemed sympathetic. Maybe Adam was projecting. Maybe he just wanted someone to know the pain he was quietly suffering, not understanding how to see himself through it, adding to the pile of other anxieties and circling thoughts that spun around and around inside his head every day. At any rate, Nick would always side with his brother, time and time again. So why would he feel bad for Adam?

It’ll go away eventually. That’s what he kept telling himself. You’re just lonely. It’d been awhile. He kept to himself, but even he was only human, even he felt an aching need for companionship here and again, however temporary. Go to a bar, get drunk, find someone to hook-up with. You’ll forget about her soon. It would work, but only for a night, and only because he drank enough to forget everything but his name. Sometimes he even forgot that. He’d be left with the lingering feeling of thinking he was some sort of ass, going out and using another person for his personal vice like they were something disposable for him and had no thoughts or feelings of their own. Everyone said he was such a good person, but how could he be when he did things like that?

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

It’ll go away…

Then, like magic, there she was. Standing not but four feet in front of him. Breathing the same air as him.

And God, her brown eyes did look softly glittered in gold as the sun hit them. He sucked in a sharp breath and blinked, breaking through the surface from dream into reality.

“Hi,” she said, and her voice was soft. Her eyes danced between his and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking. He wanted to reach out, put his hands on hers and pull her in toward him so he could cover her lips with his and finally know what she tasted like.

“Hello,” he said.

Something shifted in his peripherals and hit him like a splash of cold water. He jerked and glanced to his left, seeing a woman he didn’t recognize watching them with a peculiar expression across her face.

It seemed Hazel did the same.

“Oh!” She gasped, startled, “Adam, this is my friend, Rosie.”

Rosie’s red-painted lips spread into a smile and there seemed a light in her eyes as she walked forward to accept his handshake. “The Adam?” She asked, with a tone that clearly indicated she’d heard about him before. Clearly from Hazel.

 “Uh, I guess that must be me? Adam Page.” He supplied with a small, awkward laugh and hoped his cheeks weren’t too hot. “Rosie, it’s a pleasure.” He glanced from Rosie to Hazel before he’d even slipped his fingers from their cordial handshake. She’d talked about him. What had she said?

Probably that he was an ass, considering their last interaction together.

Somewhere among his racing thoughts he found the manners he’d been raised with. “My friend Adam is over by the arena, if you want to wait with him while I take Hazel to look at the horses and see which one she wants to ride first.” He didn’t need to separate them; Rosie could easily come along with Hazel too.

But he wanted – no, needed – to talk to Hazel alone.

“Your friend's name is Adam too?” Hazel asked, and he heard a brief note of amusement in her tone. “Doesn’t that get a little confusing?”

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “If it makes it easier, you can call him ‘Hey asshole’ too, he’ll probably answer to it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rosie said as he directed her down the path toward the arena, where they’d meet in a moment and then, finally, he and Hazel were alone. He glanced down at her profile and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. He swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing, and cleared his throat a little weakly.

“The horses are this way,” he said, voice trailing off. It clearly wasn’t what he wanted to say, but he was struggling with where to even begin. Maybe he would sort himself out on the walk through the barn to where he’d left the first prospect in crossties. Hazel fell in step beside him and he watched her get distracted taking his property in. Did she like it? He looked around where her eyes were falling and wondered what she was noticing. He loved his home; it was the sanctuary he had built for himself and the one place he felt completely and totally in control.

“I saw Dolly out in the front pasture,” she said, glancing up at him and nearly making him stumble over his boots.

“Yeah! I have her out grazing today, letting her be a little lazy.” He smiled and Hazel smiled too. “Actually,” he started, voice bouncing around with a soft echo as they stepped inside his fourteen-stall main barn. “The first mare you’re going to look at is Dolly’s full-blooded younger sister. She’s about four years younger than Dolly; just turned four this last April.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see her.” She said, and her voice sounded honest enough that it warmed him somewhere, seeing how taken she was with Dolly. “Your barn is beautiful,” she sighed as they passed the third stall. He’d noticed she’d been peeking in curiously through the black-iron bars to each one they passed to look at the horse inside if there was one.

“Thank you,” he said, and felt himself straighten his posture a little proudly. “I sank most of my first- and second-year’s earnings into getting this whole place redone. Tore down the old barn, paid to have this one constructed. Did the same to the hay barn and the mare hotel and boarding barn out back. Put in a new sprinkler system for the pastures, repaired the fencing, leveled out the arena and trucked in a good dirt-sand blend for it…” He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you… probably don’t care about any of that.”

“No!” She said, quickly, and her smile seemed a little shy. “I mean, yes. I do, actually. I’m kind of a nerd for all of this stuff.” She ducked her head and laughed. “When I couldn’t physically be around horses anymore, I found other ways to try and be involved with them, which mainly meant playing online games where you owned virtual horses and virtual stables.”

A grin cracked over his mouth. “Wow, you really are a horse geek, huh?”

Her smile was a full-on beam of sunshine, it was so bright and struck him so warmly. “Shut up,” she said, but it was chased by a laugh. He found himself laughing too.

There were only a few steps left until they would reach the big, open, padded space with a drain and hose hook-up where he’d secured the little gold mare in crossties as he groomed her this morning in preparation. A few more steps until they’d talk about the horse, about riding, he’d see if she wanted to tack up and ride her around the arena before he pointed out the other two and checked if she wanted to ride them, too.

Only a few steps before he may lose his chance to say all those things he wanted – no, needed – to say.

“Hey,” he started, stopping suddenly in his tracks. She stopped a pace later, turning around and frowning up at him. “Look, I know this might not be necessary but, I need to apologize to you.” Those words were hard to get out. They felt thick like molasses on his tongue, but he pushed through anyways. He saw her confusion deepen and explained. “I was an ass to you last time we talked and there was no reason for it.”

“Oh,” she breathed, and suddenly he knew she was there in that place with him. No longer were they tiptoeing around the past, he’d been brave enough to force them to look right at it, because he couldn’t take not addressing it. 

“Hey, look, it’s alright.” She was being nice.

“No, it’s not.” He said, firmly. “I uh… look, I can be a piece of shit sometimes - that’s not an excuse or anything - but the way I talked to you…” He felt like he was fumbling. How was he supposed to apologize without telling her why it was so important that he did? That he couldn’t live another day knowing that was her last impression of him?

He knew she was Matt’s girl… but Matt never had problems getting girls, did he? Couldn’t Adam have this one?

He forced himself to meet her eyes when his nerves wanted him to look anywhere else and the next thing he knew, he was talking and saying things he never would have thought himself brave enough to say.

“I like you, Hazel. I liked you from the minute I saw you talking to Dolly. I liked you so much it scared me. Hell, scares me, even. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not once. I know that’s crazy to say, we barely know each other, but it’s been runnin’ me in circles and I kept telling myself if fate ever put me back in front of you with the chance to say it, I couldn’t let the moment go. I’m sorry I was such a dick. Matt…” He trailed off.

How was he supposed to explain the man who was one of his closest friends, damn near a brother, was also inadvertently a manufacturer of his personal insecurities? That he knew every flex of Matt’s ego – be it winning another championship or getting the girls at the rodeo to fawn over him – wasn’t a direct attack against his worth, but it still stung like it was.

“Look,” He sucked in a breath and shook his head, “my point is that I really like you, and that sort of scared me, and I got in my head over everything when you and Matt started talking and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”

She was staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was for a few seconds or three hours, it felt like it must’ve been an eternity. He noticed every change in her expression, the way her brows dipped in and her eyes seemed to get bigger, or how her full, pretty lips pressed together and she seemed to worry at the inner corner of the bottom one. Those lips...

Then he was leaning. Forgetting himself. Forgetting she was Matt’s girl, closing the space between them, and finally… God, finally… putting his mouth on hers.

 **********

He was kissing her.

Hazels eyelids fluttered closed, mouth yielding to his. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as she did, and then suddenly their touch was changing. His wide, warm palms found her shoulders and pushed her back until she was pressed against the wood paneling, their kiss never breaking.

A small, needy noise crawled out of her throat, suffocated in their mouths. He must have heard it, though, for how he turned his head and kissed her harder, one hand sliding away from her arm and cupping her breast over her shirt and bra. He squeezed, running his thumb back and forth and making her ache for his touch on her bare body. The clothes between them were suddenly an absolute nuisance; she wanted to feel the tingles spread from every skin-on-skin touch.

He finally broke away from her mouth only to attack her neck with just as much pent up passion, the little coarse blond hairs of his close-shaved beard scratching her skin. Hazel tipped her head back and looked up at the rafters, head spinning with delirious delight. His knee pressed between her legs and they fell apart, easily. He crowded in closer and rubbed what was quickly growing hard and long in his jeans against her thigh.

“Adam,” she groaned, fingers reaching for the hair tie he had securing his curls in a bun, undoing it, burying in to shake the curls loose and holding him against her skin. She encouraged his tasting, fingers curling around the textured strands of his honey blond hair. His tongue swept down the line of the v-neck collar of her soft cotton tee, teeth nipping at her soft, supple cleavage.

Warmth as he slipped his fingers under her shirt, nearly making her jump at the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing up her bare skin. Those fingers wiggled and pressed greedily beneath the elastic stretch of her bra and he groaned against her skin as his palm fondled her breast, her nipple hardening against his touch as he squeezed. The sound vibrated out of him, his body was so tight, so tense pressed up against her.

She was the one who found sense first, and she wanted to damn herself for it.

“Adam,” she panted, eyes opening fully on the fact that they were in the hall of his barn, his hand up her shirt and his mouth on her skin, his bulge pressed and rubbing her thigh. He didn’t hear her, tongue sweeping over the dip of her clavicle. “Adam, wait,” she said, fingers curling a little tighter in his curls and tugging back to regrettably pull his mouth from her skin.

He blinked passion-fogged eyes at her, a man caught in a trance, then seemed all at once to realize their precarious position. 

“Matt.” He exhaled in a heavy, almost angry breath.

“What?” she blinked. 

“Matt.” He said again, and the look in his dark green-blue eyes seemed to harden.

Fuck, right, Matt. One of his close friends. Her… whatever he was to her. Hazel licked her lips and tasted Adam.

“No,” she said, even knowing that probably should have been more than enough of a reason for them to stop. “Rosie and your friend,” she said, “what if they come looking for us?”

He blinked and that same waking-to-reality look that she’d had crossed his face. She slid her fingers out of his hair. “Damnit,” he muttered the curse under his breath and slipped his palm from her skin, out of her shirt, and she felt so much colder without his touch. He peeled himself away from her, but stood close, chin dipped to that broad chest and eyes full of her.

Kissing him was like… being caught in a whirlwind. Her eyes fell to his mouth and it took everything in her not to tell him fuck it, be quick.

“We’re not dating,” she blurted out to distract herself from how badly she wanted him to turn her around, tug her pants down and have her up against the stall wall.

He frowned. “Uh…”

“Not you and me,” she blinked and refocused on his eyes. “Matt. I’m not dating Matt.”

“Oh,” he said, and she couldn’t infer anything from his tone or expression, so she found herself talking more.

“We’re going to figure things out at the end of the rodeo season.”

He made a noise in his throat to signify he understood and drug his boot a heavy step away from her.

“Adam, I…” she wanted to be as open and vulnerable as he’d been. She wanted to tell him she hadn’t stopped thinking about him, that she watched live streams of his rides and cheered for him. She wanted to tell him that she had never met anyone who affected her the way he did, and she wasn’t sure what to think of that. But things were complicated, and they’d left their friends alone long enough. 

Hazel drew in a breath and shook her head, pushing from the stall wall he’d had her up against and pulling her shirt to set it right. “We should get to the horses.” She chickened out.

“Right,” he agreed, bending to pick up the hair tie she’d dropped, and she wished he wasn’t so difficult to read. What was going on in that head of his? From the way he’d treated her the last time they saw one another she’d have never imagined he felt the way he’d confessed to her. His fingers raked his hair back up and she tried not to pay attention to the shapely muscles in his arms. He caught her eyes and a sheepish grin curled the corners of his lips, staying until his hands had dropped and he nodded ahead.

“Hazel, I’d like to introduce you to Daisy,” he said as they stepped where the walls opened, and a pretty little golden mare was standing patiently in crossties. She perked her ears as they came around and lifted her head, watching them with curious, deep brown eyes.

“Adam, she’s beautiful,” Hazel’s breath hitched as she moved toward her, stretching out her hand so the mare could brush her velvet, whiskered lips over it and inhale her scent. She had a broken white blaze on her face, giving her the appearance of both a star and a blaze, and her coat was slightly darker than her older sister’s. She had no white on her legs like Dolly did and was just a little bit smaller.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said warmly. “I’ve never put Daisy on the barrels, but I think she has the right build for it.”

Hazel nodded, slipping beneath one of the leads so she could run her hand along the mare’s neck, over her wither and down her back. “She has a short back, which is good.” Hazel swept her palm down the mare’s belly and along her underside. “And a long undercarriage, which means she’ll have a wide stretch when she pulls away.” She ran her hand up down her hindquarters and felt how solid and stacked with muscle they were. There was a lot of power in this mare.  “I could definitely see her on the barrels if she decides she has the attitude for them.”

“Yeah?” He seemed just as excited as she was, and when she looked over at him, she saw he was smiling. For a few drawn out seconds they smiled at one another before he cleared his throat and blinked. “Let me go grab some tack and we’ll get her saddled so you can try her out.”

“Okay,” Hazel said, smiling and turning back to the mare as he left for the tack room. Once he was out of her line of sight, she exhaled low, working through the nerves that were storming through her. She lifted her hand and placed her palm on Daisy’s neck. The mare blew a soft breath through her nose and flicked an ear back, pointing it at Hazel. It made Hazel smile, like Daisy was already ready to listen to whatever Hazel needed to talk about.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Hazel murmured and curled her fingers, gently scratching the mare’s neck. She worked her way down to the top of her wither and Daisy stretched her neck out, clearly enjoying the rub. Hazel laughed gently and glanced as Adam came back with a saddle over one arm and the bridle and bit hanging off the horn.

“You two seem to be getting on,” he said with a grin, setting the saddle down and grabbing the bridle, stepping toward Daisy’s head.

“Here,” she offered, “Let me.” She stepped forward to take the bridle, slipping the headstall over Daisy’s ears before unclipping the leads from the halter she was wearing and unbuckling its clasp, slipping it off her face so it could be replaced with the bridle. As she gently offered the bit against the mare’s lips, Adam hefted the saddle and pad up and walked it around to the mare’s other side, swinging it over her back.

“She takes her tack politely,” Hazel commented as Daisy let her slip the bit into her mouth without complaint.

“She’s a well-behaved little lady,” Adam said, pulling the cinch on the saddle and buckling it up. “Especially for a young mare. She might’ve been the easiest horse I’ve ever trained. She has a sound mind, just like her sister.”

With Hazel holding the reins they started walking out of the barn, toward the arena. She glanced over at Adam and smiled when she saw he was looking at her. She looked away, biting into her grin to try and keep it from spreading. Her head was spinning with everything he’d told her; with the taste of him still on her lips; with her body aching, remembering how nice his touch had felt.

When they were out of the stable, she put her boot in the stirrup and swung her leg over, settling in the saddle. He helped her adjust the stirrups to the right length and tilted his head up to look at her, his palm resting on Daisy’s shoulder. The late afternoon sun glittered across his face and shone in his eyes. They looked greener today than blue, pale and soft, like the grass in a meadow, early morning with the fog crawling gently over it.

Hazel gathered the reins in her hands and gave a soft click under her tongue, squeezing her knees and getting Daisy to walk. Adam fell in place, walking beside them as they rounded the bend in the path that led out to a large arena. She could see Rosie standing with a man toward the end of the arena. That must’ve been Adam’s friend. He was lean, with brown hair that rested at shoulder-length, a black cowboy hat tipped back on the top of his head while he’d talked with her. He was smiling as he gestured with his hands, clearly telling Rosie some story, and she could hear Rosie’s sweet giggles from where they stood. They seemed to be enjoying one another’s company.

Adam put a boot up on the bottom panel of the arena fence and leaned his forearms on the top. He nodded to the inside of the arena. “Go ahead, see how you two get on.”

Hazel smiled and added a little more pressure with her knees, asking for a trot. Daisy obliged, moving into the bouncy gait as they made their way inside the arena. Everything slipped away as Hazel started to ride. She focused on the way the horse responded to her, heart lifting at how easy and eager Daisy seemed to take commands despite them not knowing one another. A small pull on the reins and weight added to her other side had the mare switching leads and leaning in where requested, which was a good sign that she’d be easy to train to curl around a barrel. Hazel squeezed her knees again and clicked her tongue, bringing the little mare up to a lope and then to a gallop. They circled around the wide arena three times, and Hazel felt like Daisy could have kept going. By the time she sat her weight back in the saddle and pulled up the reins she was grinning ear to ear.

“You two look good out there,” Adam called out from where he stood. Rosie and his friend, the other Adam, had made their way down the fence line to join him as she rode.

Hazel grinned as she gently rubbed Daisy’s neck, a little warm to the touch. She got the mare walking again to help cool her down. “She responds amazingly.”

 “I’ve never had too much of a problem on her,” Adam remarked from where he was leaning. “Think she’ll do alright on barrels?”

Hazel didn’t even have to think before she nodded and said, “Yeah! She’s quick, and when I asked her to change lead, she did it with ease.” Hazel pulled the reins and stopped her near the fence line where everyone was standing. “She’s small, and fast. I wasn’t even pushing her as hard as I could. I could tell she had a little more give in her.” Hazel glanced over at Rosie. “What do you think of her, Rosie?”

“She’s beautiful,” Rosie said, reaching out to gently scratch the little mare’s forehead. “What do you think of her?”

Hazel looked at the three expectant faces looking up at her and grinned. “Honestly? I think I’m in love with her.” Her eyes slid to Adam’s and he smiled so bright and open she felt like her heart skipped in her chest.

“You sure you don’t want to try out the other two?”

“You tell me,” she said, shifting in the saddle as the leather gently creaked. She let Daisy have her head, reins going slack as she dropped her arms.

“Gunner has a bit of a stubborn streak and will fight you for fun until you get him to mind his manners. I’m sure he’d make a fast little barrel horse and probably love doing it, but he isn’t going to mind you as easily as she does.” He reached over the fence and fondly patted Daisy’s neck, fingers ruffling her cream-white mane. “The other one I had thought for you to try is Cat. He’s a bit more docile than Gunner, but he’s young and doesn’t have as much experience under the saddle. I barely started him a few months ago. Out of the three, I think you’re going to like this girl best.”

Hazel nodded, grinning. “I think I agree.” Elation in her chest. “I’d love to buy her.”

Adam’s grin matched hers. “I’d love to sell her to you. Come on, let’s get her cooled down and we’ll figure out getting her a vet check before we transport her to your property.”

She nodded and pressed with her inside knee, pulling the reins wide, guiding Daisy to turn around and walk toward the open entrance of the arena. Hazel couldn’t believe it. The little pretty golden mare she was riding was hers. Or, going to be, once all the paperwork was finalized and so on. Finally, she had a horse again. Tears pricked hot in her eyes and she gave her head a little shake, thankful she was too far from the group for them to see. She blinked them out of her eyes and laughed softly, leaning to rub her palm along Daisy’s neck before giving her a few firm pats. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Daisy.” She promised the mare in a whisper, still smiling when she rode around the bend in the path and met up with everyone near the barn.

She pulled her boot from the stirrup and swung her leg over the mare’s back, dismounting with a soft little thud into the dirt below. Pulling the reins over Daisy’s head, she fell in step with Adam as he led them back into the barn. Rosie and the other Adam (Hazel still thought that was amusing) walked along with them, which meant they weren’t going to get a chance to be alone again. Hazel’s eyes darted to Adam’s, they met, and both their lips curled into smiles.

They stopped in the wide hall of the barn; Rosie being shown around by Adam’s friend since she hadn’t seen the inside of it. He seemed happy to introduce her to the horses and she could hear Rosie’s compliments on how beautiful each horse was that they passed. She smiled over at Adam.

“Your friend is sweet.”

“Cole?” Adam snorted, but she could tell it was good humored. “He has y’all fooled.”

She laughed and Adam reached out for the reins, which Hazel handed over. She wasn’t sure if he purposefully moved his hand or not, but his fingers bumped into hers and slid slowly across her skin as she released them. Hazel took a breath and turned to gently give Daisy a few more scratches, grateful for the distraction. Adam let the reins drop, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Daisy simply stood by, not trying to wander off once she had the freedom to do so.

“Is she registered?”

“Yeah, AQHA. The name on her papers is Dun n Daisy Dukes.”

Hazel laughed. “That’s adorable.”

“Thank you, I was pretty proud of myself for that one.” Adam was grinning as he pulled the heavy saddle from her back and set it out of the way, propping it and the saddle blanket up against the nearby stall wall.

“She and Dolly must have some Hollywood Dun It in their bloodlines I’m guessing?”

“They do,” Adam sounded surprised she knew. 

“Remember? I’m a horse geek.” Hazel smiled. “I know the prominent AQHA stallions and I know it’s tradition to register their names with something carrying over from their parents. If Daisy is registered as Dun n Daisy Dukes and Dolly is registered as Lil Dun Dolly, I’d imagine they carried the Hollywood Dun It in their names.”

Adam whistled low, his brows lifting. “Well damn, if you know AQHA studs that well, you’ll be happy to know they’ve got Flit Bar lines on their dam’s side. Fire Water Flit is their great grandsire.”

At that, Hazel’s eyes widened. Fire Water Flit and his sire Flit Bar were two very prominent barrel racing studs. Their offspring had gone on to win a ridiculous amount of barrel racing championships. “Okay, you could have led with that and I probably would have been sold on her.” Their soft laughs joined together as Adam patted Dee’s neck and gathered the reins of the bridle up again, starting to walk her toward her stable.

“How soon do you think the vet check will be?” She asked, then added, “Not that I’m trying to rush you. I’m just excited.”

“Understandable.” He smiled at her. “My vet’s pretty good, I should be able to get her out here this week. Unless you have a vet you would rather I use?”

“No, I trust you.”

“Okay, I’ll text you as soon as I know what day she’s available to come out. Do you have a trailer?”

“I don’t,” Hazel frowned. “I guess I could rent one.”

“Don’t bother,” Adam waved his hand, “I can bring her to you.”

“Are you sure? That’s a six-hour drive.”

“I’d like to see her off to her new home”

Rosie and his friend were making their way back toward them as they put Daisy up in her stall. Adam unclipped the buckles of her bridle and slipped it over her head, stepping out and sliding the door behind him before he latched it shut.

“Okay,” Hazel agreed, and realized almost immediately this meant Adam would be coming to her house. Should she have someone over with her that day? How could she be both excited and terrified with how he made her feel? What would Matt think? Sure, he’d said they weren’t dating, but that didn’t mean her feelings for him vanished into thin air. If the two of them didn’t know one another, it might be a different story, but with Adam and Matt being friends she wasn’t certain that was a sort of drama she should invite into her life.

“We’re all set then. When the vet finds her sound, we’ll discuss a price.”

“Okay!” She grinned and looked through the black iron bars at the cute little gold mare in the stall. “I can’t believe this little beauty might be mine soon. I really do adore her, Adam.”

“I can tell.” There was a warmth in his voice and when she glanced up at him, saw he was watching her, and his eyes matched his tone. “She likes you too.” There was something in his expression that made her breath catch.

Rosie’s giggles drifted near, and when Hazel turned to look, she saw the other pair were doubling back around. Her eyes slipped back to Adam’s just as his did, and it seemed they had an unspoken moment of realizing there was still so much to say, but time had run out. Hazel decided then and there if things worked out and Adam was going to bring Daisy to her, she wouldn’t have anyone at the house. She’d meet him alone.

She felt excited.

She felt guilty.

“Hazel, you gotta give this girl some tune-up on her riding. I think she’s got a cowgirl heart.” Adam’s friend was grinning as the pair came near enough for him to talk. Hazel glanced over at them, seeing up close the blue of his eyes that seemed almost merry with how bright they were, looking down at Rosie. Rosie had a pink blush in her fair cheeks and a wide smile on her cherry-red lipstick painted lips. Hazel had to fight to keep from smiling too obviously. They were adorable, and Rosie was clearly into him.

“I think you might be right.” Hazel agreed with a smile. There was a sudden buzz in her pocket, and she blinked, tugging her phone out and glancing at the screen. The notification banner showed her she’d gotten a text from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Hey, when do you think you’ll be home tonight?

Hazel started to type out a reply after she’d glanced at the clock and calculated how long they’d be driving and when they might leave here. Adam’s friend took over the conversation as she went quiet, asking Adam about one of his mares and pulling him away from watching her closely.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Not until 10PM or so it looks like. We just put the mare up, so I’ll probably be leaving back home soon. Why???

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

FaceTime? I want to see you when you talk about the horse you saw today. I want to see that smile. ❤️

A fond smile crept across her lips and a sweet ache hit her chest. Their communication had felt off when they talked last weekend when she’d told him about finishing the stable. Since then, they’d texted and even talked, but every time they did, Hazel had felt like there was something lingering in the air between them. Eventually she’d written it off as her paranoia that he’d been upset she’d hired a company to finish the barn without telling him. Once she’d told him she was going to look at a horse, he’d gotten excited for her. Now he wanted to FaceTime so he could see her smile when she talked about the horse she saw.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Yeah, okay! I’ll let you know when I get in. I have to drop Rosie off at home first. Can’t wait to tell you about the mare!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

I can’t wait to hear all about her. Talk to you later 😘

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Okay 😊 😘

Hazel glanced up from her phone to see everyone talking about the horses. However, when she slid her phone back into her pocket, Adam immediately glanced her way. Her smile felt nervous and she hoped it didn’t look it before she glanced over at Rosie and smiled.

“You driving home tonight?” Adam asked as the conversation slowed to a stop.

“Yeah, which means we should probably get on the road soon.” The slight hint of regret that chased her tone wasn’t forced as she slid her eyes back to his.

“Aww, that’s too bad,” his friend drawled, “I’ve enjoyed the company.” 

Rosie, beside him, blushed.

“Much better than Page’s, that’s for sure.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how you couldn’t like my company, Cole. You talk about a hundred miles a minute; I’d be lucky to get a word in edgewise the entire time you’re here.”

“He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?” Rosie said, playfully thoughtful as she squinted up at Cole. Teasing.

He gasped in offense as he looked at her with surprise, and her giggles shortly followed. Hazel was smiling; Adam was too. Their eyes met and their smiles softened. There was no talking over what’d happened between them earlier in the barn. She’d escaped having to tell her feelings.

Hazel knew that wasn’t fair to him, especially after he’d bared his heart so openly to her.

“You drive safe, alright?” Adam said softly, Rosie and his friend were occupied with their teasing and laughter as they headed out of the barn back toward Hazel’s truck. He reached to gently rest his hand on her lower back as they turned to follow their friends out of the barn. His palm fell away and he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah,” she said, trailing off as her steps seemed to drag. His did too.

“I’ll try and get my vet out to look her over soon. When she’s clear we can talk details. I’m really glad you liked her.”

They stopped right outside the barn and turned toward one another. 

“I really do.” She said on an exhale, smile spreading across her face.

“I’m glad you’re riding again, too. Especially barrels; what you’re passionate about.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. Behind her she heard the truck start up and, glancing over her shoulder, saw Rosie in the driver’s seat, window rolled down as she talked to Cole, who was leaning on the truck door and giving a wide, charming, happy grin up at her. Hazel looked forward again, up at Adam. “I’ll… talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” he said, and his gaze dropped to her lips. He took a slight breath and looked back at her eyes. Hazel felt flush. She licked her lips and swallowed against the sudden jump in her pulse. “Goodbye, Hazel. I’m…” his blond brows pinched. “I’m happy it was you today.”

“I’m happy it was you, too.” She said, sotto voce. 

“You better go on before they get suspicious.” He said with a wry smile, nodding toward their friends.

“Yeah, I guess I better… bye Adam.”

“Bye darlin’.” He breathed a regretful sigh, eyes meeting hers. She had a feeling all he’d wanted to do was grab her up against him and kiss her dizzy like they’d done earlier. 

She wanted him to do that too.

Instead, Hazel gave her a little half-wave and turned around to walk to the passenger side of her truck, climbing in the cab and buckling up as Cole nodded and said goodbye to Rosie, stepping back so they could take off. Hazel watched Adam’s figure grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until they drove too far down the drive to see him. She sighed, shoulders dropping.

“Okay,” Rosie said as they stopped before turning on the main road, “we have six hours, and I have a lot to tell you, but you need to tell me everything about what happened when you and Adam were alone.”

Hazel groaned and pressed her hands over her eyes, dragging them down and blinking at Rosie. “Things just got really fucking complicated, that’s what happened.”

Rosie turned onto the main road to begin their drive and Hazel told her everything that had happened and everything Adam had confessed.

“When he was kissing me, I completely forgot about Matt. It wasn’t until Adam brought him up when we stopped that I suddenly remembered. I feel awful.”

“What are you going to do about Matt?” Rosie asked curiously.

“I don’t know. We’re not actually dating, right? Matt made that pretty clear. He doesn’t want to talk about it until the rodeo season is over in December. So… I’m technically single? But they’re friends. They know each other. Closely!”

“And what happens in December if Matt says he wants to exclusively date you? Or what happens before December if Adam tells you he’d exclusively date you now?”

Hazel swallowed and shook her head slowly. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, Hazel. Cause you know if either of those men hurt you, I’ll whoop them.”

Despite the fact Rosie was a sweetheart through and through, Hazel did not doubt her ability to become a tough little firecracker in her defense. It made Hazel laugh as she nodded. “I know you will. That’s why I love you.” The girls shared a smile before Hazel continued. “I know it isn’t the smart thing to do, but I think I’m just going to keep letting the cards fall where they do. I’ll have to tell Matt tonight the mare is Adam’s, and maybe I’ll just tell him what happened.”

“And if he gets upset and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore?”

“Well,” she had a sinking feeling in her gut, “I guess that’s his fault for not wanting to try being with me when I offered. Or my fault for kissing Adam? I don’t know.”

“I’ll leave my phone ringer on when I sleep tonight if you need an emergency best friend conversation.”

“A true friend,” Hazel said fondly. “Which I’m not being, speaking of… you still need to tell me about Mr. Handsome Cowboy you were flirting up a storm with.”

Rosie grinned and even though it was dark in the cab, Hazel swore she could see a little blush in her cheeks.

“Oh, the other Adam?”

“Mhm,” Hazel said, grinning.

“He’s a flirt.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw right through him within five minutes of us talking. But… he’s cute. He got really excited to tell me about bull riding when I told him I’d never watched it. Didn’t make me feel dumb for not knowing, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, smiling. 

“He asked me for my number.”

“He did?!” 

“Yeah! When he was leanin’ on the truck and you were talking to your Adam.”

“And? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why?” Hazel sat up and frowned at Rosie.

“He’s pry a womanizer. Doesn’t actually care about me, you know? Just flirts with any girl he sees.”

“He didn’t flirt with me,” Hazel pointed out.

“That’s because any fool with eyes could see the hearts Adam had in his eyes every time he looked at you.”

She flushed at that.

“I don’t know. He was cute but, I definitely felt like that attraction wasn’t as authentic for him as it was for me, you know?”

Hazel hummed under her breath. “I don’t know about that, he looked pretty into you as far as I could see. Hey, maybe you’ll get a chance to see him again in the future, given that I’m apparently seeing Adam again.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He is really damn cute.”

“He is,” Hazel agreed with a laugh.

They arrived at Rosie’s house first and, after a goodbye and a hug, Hazel climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled her phone out while she was still parked. She yawned and clicked through to the text messages between her and Matt.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Just dropped Rosie off, I’ll be home in about twenty minutes!

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Sounds good babe.

She smiled and clicked to black the screen out, tossing it gently into the passenger’s seat and pulling the truck out of the driveway. How was she going to tell him about what happened between her and Adam?

“I should just be forward,” she muttered out loud to herself, frowning at the road in front of her. “I should just tell him like, look, Matt, you remember when Adam and I came up to the fire when we first met? I had almost kissed Adam earlier that night and I do have feelings for him. Today he told me he has feelings for me, and we kissed.” She swallowed and exhaled.

“Jesus, I can’t tell him that. Hey, Matt, turns out the horse is Adam’s, you know, one of your super close friends? Also turns out he and I have intense feelings for one another, and we made out and he touched my boob! Okay see ya later bye!”

Hazel choked on a laugh that was followed by a groan and a heavy sigh.

“Hazel, you idiot.” She scolded herself under her breath, turning her truck into her drive. She rolled to a stop and parked, turning the key in the ignition to shut the engine off and sit in the silence of the cab as she glanced at her unlit house.

She’d pick Carson and Callahan up tomorrow from the pet sitter’s, it was too late to get them now. It’d be weird to spend the night completely alone in the house. Hazel swallowed against that feeling and grabbed her bag, climbing out of the truck and locking it behind her as she pulled her house key free and jogged up the porch steps. Hopefully she’d be tired by the time she and Matt got done talking and be able to just go right to sleep. She had traveled for twelve hours and ridden, after all.

Hazel pushed the door open and locked it behind her, tossing the keys onto the catch-all that sat on the little table in the foyer, entering her house and flipping lights on as she walked through. Her purse was discarded on the couch and she tugged her phone from her pocket, tapping a message to Matt as she wandered into her room.

 TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Home! Let me shower really quick. Give me twenty? 😊

She underhand tossed the phone onto her bed and bent to tug her boots off, straightening as she pulled her shirt over her head and went for her bra. A sigh of relief followed unclasping the back-strap and she shrugged out of it as she went for the drawer full of big, soft, comfortable shirts to sleep in. She tugged the lavender one free and opened another drawer to grab a pair of white little sleep-shorts. Holding them in one hand she pulled her jeans and panties off, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she made for her bathroom.

Hazel showered quick and the warm water felt like a luxury against her muscles that’d likely be sore tomorrow. She shut her mind free of the confusing thoughts circling it and the anxiety of what would happen when she told Matt what’d happened with Adam, or how she was going to broach that topic at all. It was refreshing to dry off and feel clean, too, and she closed her eyes as she towel dried her hair, enjoying it for a moment. 

When she opened her eyes, she could see her reflection looking back at her and shook her head, laughing dryly to herself. “Six months ago, I swore I was never going to date again, now here I am getting caught between two men.” No, that had definitely never been the plan. Hazel rolled her eyes at herself and set the towel aside, grabbing for her pajamas and tugging them on. 

Was it unfair for her to try and casually be with them both, unknowingly, for a moment? If she told Adam she wasn’t ready to be exclusive with him because she still didn’t know whether she and Matt were going to agree to date in December, would he be okay with that? Would he still want to see her, when she told him she’d like to explore their feelings? Could she tell Matt? Was it wrong for her not to include him? If Adam knew and she knew, it wasn’t fair that Matt didn’t know the whole picture, too.

Question upon question were piling up. She shook her head and grabbed her phone, stomach turning as she walked out of her room toward the kitchen for a water. Her phone started to ring just as she got to the fridge. Balancing the phone in one hand she slid to answer the call, smiling as Matt popped up on the screen.

“Hey!” She said.

“There you are,” he said, and grinned. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve FaceTimed,” she agreed, opening a nearby cabinet to grab a glass and get water from the spout on the fridge.

“It has,” he said. “So? How was the horse?”

Hazel laughed, but it was chased by nerves. “Yeah, about that. The ranch was actually-” and right before she could say it was Adam’s, her doorbell rang. “What the hell?” She muttered, setting the water down and looking toward the door.

“Who’s at your house this late?” Matt asked.

“I don’t know.” It was just hitting 11:00PM. “Maybe Rosie left something in my truck.” 

She walked quietly until stopping before the door, pressing up on the tips of her toes to look through the peephole. She gasped at who she saw and wrenched the door open, heartbeat jumping.

“Matt?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

He grinned, ending their FaceTime call as he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his wranglers. “I was in the neighborhood. Come here, I haven’t held you in weeks.” The last time they’d seen one another had been when he’d left the first time. Since then, their talks had been strictly by phone.

Matt pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him, heart sighing to remember what it felt like to have his touch. He was warm against the fall chill at their backs. His thumb pressed gently under her chin and he pushed her face up to look at him while he dipped and slipped his lips across hers. Hazel sighed into the kiss, turning her head to find a better position.

They pulled slowly apart, and she shook her head, still unable to believe he was actually here, on her porch, holding her. “Wait, I thought you had a rodeo you came home from today.”

“I did.” He said and tipped his head toward the inside of her house. “C’mon, let's get off the porch.”

He bent to pick up the straps to a lightly packed black duffel bag and followed her inside. “Right after I put my horse up, I texted Nick asking him to feed for me tonight and in the morning, packed an overnight bag, unhitched my trailer and started the drive up here.”

Hazel closed the door behind her and turned around to face him just as Matt set the duffle bag down and turned toward her. “Why?”

He reached out, either palm sliding warm over her hips. He pulled her in to him, chin to chest as his dark brown eyes softened on her face. “Because I missed you. Because when you were first planning to buy a horse from Bob, I knew his ranch was only a couple hours away from mine, and I was going to show up there and surprise you.” 

“I was going to surprise you!” Hazel said, grinning. “I was going to show up on your porch with an overnight bag after I looked at the horse.” A realization hit and her brows rose as she glanced down at his bag, then back at him. “Hey, you stole my idea.”

Matt laughed and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Once you weren’t going to Bob’s and were instead going the opposite direction, I realized that meant I didn’t know when I was going to be able to see you next. I didn’t like that, so here I am.”

Hazel laughed behind closed lips and shook her head. “Here you are.”

Matt dipped his head and pushed his lips against hers again. Hazel once again melted into him, and let her body be walked back until she was against the door. Her lips opened for him and his tongue took the invitation, sliding in along hers. The longer they kissed the hungrier they became. Matt’s hand chased up the curve of her hip, up her side and framed her breast. He pinched her nipple over her shirt, softly pulling, making it a hard, needy peak as she gasped into his mouth. He grinned, chuckling before he kissed her again and smoothed his palm over her breast before moving to tease her other nipple in the same way.

She and Matt hadn’t seen one another in weeks, which led to them forgetting about everything and stumbling through the house, stopping to kiss and touch and giggle and moan here and there as they went. Eventually they made it to her room - his shirt was gone, she’d tugged it off down the hallway, and his hair was down and loose around his shoulders - and Matt didn’t let up. He moved with her clear until the back of her knees pressed against the bed, her fingers on his warm, bare chest, running up and then down over his arms. She felt the curve of muscle as he flexed beneath her touch and her lips, against his, lifted into a smile.

He pulled his mouth off hers. “Climb on the bed,” his breath was low, warm against her kiss-swollen lips, his voice rough with need, “And take these clothes off.” His fingers pried at the soft lavender tee she was wearing, tugging pointedly at the hem. With one more urgent kiss against her lips, he finally stepped away, hands falling quickly to the big, shiny buckle on his belt. As she tugged her shirt over her head, he popped the belt open on his jeans and tugged the zipper down quick. His fingers hooked in the denim and he hesitated, just briefly, eyes ravenously black as they fell to her bare breasts. His lips fell apart and she ached for him, for the familiar sweet sting of his beard burn he left after he kissed and sucked at her nipples.

He tugged his jeans down and she wiggled her body atop the sheets, pulling and maneuvering to free herself from her sleep shorts and discarding them without care. He stepped out of his boots and jeans, leaving the pile on the floor as he reached down to take off his socks. He’d undressed in a hurry up until this point, straightening and pinching his fingers in the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. Hazel’s eyes dropped and saw the thick, defined shape of his hard cock straining against the dark fabric. She wet her lips in anticipation and pushed her heels into the bed, sliding her now-naked body up the sheets and toward the pillows. Matt pulled his boxer-briefs free, cock springing, tip leaking, veins fat and full along its length.

She inhaled as he climbed onto the mattress, her body weight leaning into each dip his knees made as they pressed down. His wide, calloused hands gripped over her knees, pushing her thighs apart as he knelt between them. His cock slipped over her and he sucked in a breath, exhaling it slowly. His hips pushed down, then tilted in, and his cock pried between her lips and slid right in, she was so wet. Hazel gasped on the same breath he did, their eyes locking.

That was the only still moment between them. Their lovemaking turned as wild as it was the first night they were finally able to be together, their bodies stumbling to catch up to all the connecting their hearts had been doing. They were a mess of moans and grunts, of sweat-slick skin sliding on sweat-slick skin, of panted breaths and feverish kisses. Matt pushed up to his knees, hands gripping into her hips, and held her up as he thrust hard and fast, in and out of her, fucking her into her shoulders. Hazel moaned and arched toward his thrusts, opening her eyes to look up the stretch of her naked body to where he was sweating, tense and hungry over her.

Her eyes rolled back in her skull as he dipped his hips and pushed up, stroking a sensitive spot deep inside between her legs. It sent jolts down her thighs and her joints locked, stiff, toes curling in the air and fingers digging into the sheets. Her mouth stuttered on a gasp and hung, caught open. Matt grinned, just barely - doing so was an effort when he was pushing all his energy elsewhere - and the dark of his eyes seemed just a shade darker as he thrust harder, more pointed in that same way he’d gotten her a moment before. Over and over the head of his cock teased that sensitive little spot until she was careening, gasping on her cries, clamping her muscles tight and clenching her jaw in anticipation of- “MATT!” - the crash.

He came down with her, a boulder of uncontrolled muscle crashing in on her as his own body went rigid, balls likely sucked tight to the base of his cock as it pulsed inside her and her own orgasm grabbed it tight. He made a stuttered grunt that seemed like it was supposed to be her name, or maybe a warning, but his throat couldn’t move enough to work words. She felt the warmth inside her as he came, the last ripples of her orgasm pulling at every last drop of him buried so deep inside her.

Matt lay almost an uncomfortable, still weight on top of her as the last of the pleasure ebbed away and their minds pulled from the fog. Their skin stuck, warm and sweaty, his breaths crowding over her. But Hazel’s body was too worn out, she couldn’t be bothered enough to push him away. And some part of her enjoyed it, in a way, that she could finally have him so close that his physical weight might be uncomfortable. Every other night he was just a voice. Just a moving picture.

“Sorry,” he murmured, breathing in an exhausted chuckle, arms shaking as he slowly peeled himself off of her.

“It’s okay,” she said in the same low tone, eyes sliding to meet hers once there was enough space for them to.

Carefully, still sensitive and half-hard, Matt slipped his cock from between her legs. He winced, just barely as the head slipped out, spent and slick with both their cum. He maneuvered to lay his body down beside her on the bed, exhaling a large breath. Hazel grinned and turned over, curling into him almost immediately as he lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at him as he tipped his bearded chin downward and met her eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She was marveling, still. They’d rushed so quickly to be together, her mind had to catch itself back up.

“I missed you,” he said. His hand lifted so the tips of his fingers could smooth her frizzy hair, setting the pieces right that had stuck to her cheeks.

“I missed you, too.” She said. Her heartbeat hit a little harder, fear slipping into her veins at what she knew was showing brightly in her eyes that she tried so hard not to let go of. Vulnerability. Was he going to tell her he’d thought about what she’d said, and maybe they should look into being together exclusively? (She tried to ignore that this time, she felt three emotions altogether, all equally as potent: excitement, fear, and hesitance) 

Hazel waited for whatever he was going to say, but Matt didn’t speak. He smoothed his hand back down her shoulder and smiled, then leaned his head back on the pillow. His eyelids drifted closed, long eyelashes gently brushing the tops of his cheeks. His breathing relaxed and he seemed to sink calmly into the mattress.

Then she realized no profound confession was going to come from him. This surprise visit of Matt’s was just a one-off thing. Hazel tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed. He likely sensed like she did there’d been something wrong between them and he came to put himself between her legs and fuck her until she lost her mind. He’d curl his arm around her and tuck her into him like he was doing now and she’d remember how warm and safe it felt. 

But clearly he wasn’t going to tell her why he had become so distant after she finished the barn.

Maybe that was for the best, Hazel thought as she laid her head against his chest and let herself close her eyes and enjoy that he was there and warm and real in her bed with her. And she let herself remember that his smell would linger for a day or two in her sheets to be there as she drifted off to sleep. She wasn’t even sure she could commit to Matt, not after the connection she’d felt with Adam earlier.

Adam.

Her eyes opened quickly. She’d forgotten all about telling Matt about Adam. A sinking feeling hit the pit of her gut. She was too much of a coward to tell him to his face, when he’d driven all the way over here to surprise her. Especially now, naked, muscles sore from their desperate lovemaking. Hazel moved slowly and shushed him when he grunted and cracked an eye open, assuring him she was just going to the restroom. As her feet hit the plush carpet and he dozed off again, she wondered how she could get angry at him for skirting around things hanging between them when she couldn’t even show him the same courtesy.

**********

“Morning sleepyhead.” Matt whispered softly from where he was bent over her, standing on the other side of the bed, gently rubbing her shoulder. Hazel groaned, and something paper crinkled as he moved. “Look,” he beckoned, and she slowly pulled the comforter down to see a little bag with her store logo printed on it.

“Rosie says good morning. I went and got us coffee and breakfast, come on.” He gently tapped her ass over the comforter she was wrapped in and she groaned in complaint, tucking back into her warm cocoon. He laughed. “Come on, you have coffee to drink, food to eat, and a horse to tell me about.” His voice was fading as he walked out of the room and down the hall.

A horse to tell him about.

Adam’s horse.

Adam.

Matt showing up on her doorstep.

Adam and Matt being friends.

The way she felt when she was with Adam.

The way she felt when she was with Matt.

One day she would look back and maybe realize this was the exact moment, at 7:06AM on an otherwise normal Monday morning, with her body sore from the long drive and horseback riding and phenomenal sex, that she’d first made a connection that would become something paramount later on. But at present she was too tired and too worried about all that would go wrong to even consider what could be, let alone what couldn’t be controlled.

Hazel slid out of bed, wearing her sleep shorts and baggy shirt she’d tugged back on after getting ready for bed. She padded barefoot into the restroom, freshening up with only the amount of effort it took to splash her face, brush her teeth, and run a quick brush through her hair. She yawned as she turned away from her reflection and knew the warm cup of coffee would be a godsend this morning.

“There she is,” Matt said warmly, and she looked over at him - he was in his usual around-the-house attire of a cotton t-shirt of one of the brands that sponsored him and a comfortable pair of sweatpants. He’d swept his hair up into a bun, she remembered it down, jerking around his shoulders with each ram of his cock inside her. She licked her lips and set herself quickly down on the chair across from him, putting the reminder out of her head.

“My body feels so beat up, I don’t know how you travel like this and then perform every single week.” She complained as she wrapped her hands around the sleeve of the thermos he’d taken to get her coffee in.

“Aw, it’s not so bad. Eventually you just figure your body is supposed to feel all of those aches. You just kind of forget what it was like when you weren’t in pain.” He grinned as he lifted his coffee to his lips, winked and took a sip.

Hazel breathed out a laugh and rolled her eyes, taking her first sip of coffee and closing her eyes as she enjoyed how wonderful it was. She took another sip before the bag rustled and, looking, she saw Matt was opening it.

“Rosie had just pulled some lemon poppyseed muffins out of the oven before I rolled up. I grabbed a couple.” He reached in and placed one on a napkin for her, sliding it toward her spot on the table. He grabbed another one for himself and set his phone aside, it looked like he’d been reading a news article. Matt saw her glance at it. “Checking how everyone did at the other rodeos this weekend.” He grinned and shrugged as he picked at the muffin wrapper, peeling it away. “Trying to estimate what our scores are at and how good Nick and I have to be this weekend.”

“It never stops, huh?” Hazel said, but she didn’t say it sadly. It was more like she was marveling. He just kept pushing himself toward that dream, toward proving to everyone that he was as good as he said he was. It was admirable, even if it got in the way of something she wanted. That dream was there before her, anyways.

“Nope,” he said, and a sigh seemed to chase his words before he caught himself and plugged his mouth up with a chunk of baked goods. She did the same and he finally asked after he took a swig of coffee, “So, come on. Tell me about the horse.”

Hazel laughed, and she sipped her coffee to stall time.

“Funnily enough, it’s Adam’s.” She said, and her eyes shot to him as she kept the cup near her lips. She wondered if he’d ever caught on to any of it that first night they’d talked by the fire, when the energy between her and Adam had felt like it was practically shooting sparks.

“Adam?” He frowned and popped another bite into his mouth, chewing carefully. “Adam who?”

“Page.”

“Oh!” He laughed, clearly surprised. Delighted, even. So, he didn’t have any clue. “When did you find that out?”

“When I got there,” Hazel admitted. “I got so excited about going to see a horse I didn’t even ask for the guy’s name before I showed up, and then it turned out to be him.”

“Of course, you could only think about the horse.” Matt was grinning. “Which of his is it?”

“Daisy!” Hazel said it with excited breath, unable from sitting a little higher in her seat. It was easy to forget about Adam when she thought about the mare she might own soon.

“Daisy’s a beautiful little filly,” Matt said, frowning with thought. “That’s the little gold one that’s related to his mare Dolly, right?”

“Yeah, full sisters.”

“That’s right. Dolly is a sound horse. Last year at the NFR my horse hurt himself at the rodeo; he spooked when an attendant’s dog acted out and kicked, missed the dog and hit the trailer. It gashed up his leg and I didn’t want to run him, even patching it up. Didn’t want to take the risk. Adam always trailers in Dolly in case he decides to pick-up, and she’s a solid little ranch mare even if she’s not just for head roping. He let me ride her and Nick and I pulled second place when we otherwise would have had to drop out and severely hurt our rankings.”

“Wow,” Hazel exhaled, both marveling at the mare and at Adam’s quick thinking to make sure his friends wouldn’t miss their chances.

“Yeah,” Matt nodded and took another swallow of coffee and bite of muffin before adding, “if that little mare is anything like her sister, you’re going to have yourself a damn good horse.”

Hazel grinned. “I really think she’s something else. I haven’t felt that way when I’ve gotten on a horse since my first horse, Shorty.”

“Shorty?” Matt asked, smiling.

“He was a horse that a friend of my stepfather’s owned over at a dairy. He was the third horse I ever rode, a stocky little bay gelding with a little star on his forehead. He was playful and silly and would get a little pushy if I didn’t mind him, so he taught me a lot. He was also the first horse I ever rode barrels on.”

“Really?” Matt asked, leaning his forearms on the table and watching her.

“Yep! The dairy farmer’s daughter used to be a barrel racer, but she went off to college. Shorty was her horse. She came home for Christmas break and we went over for a little Christmas party and she asked me if I was the girl who was keeping Shorty company when she was gone. I was probably nine or ten at the time,” Hazel tilted her head, remembering that night well. “She asked me if I’d ever seen barrel racing and I said no, so she took me into her old room and showed me all the trophies and ribbons she and Shorty had won, and all the framed pictures she had. She taught me how to run the patterns that weekend and gave me books she’d learned from too.”

“Wow,” Matt said, smiling. “That’s awesome.”

“It really was! I felt that same connection to Daisy that I did when I used to ride Shorty.”

“You know, I think that might be the first time you’ve ever told me anything about your childhood.” He commented softly.

Hazel blinked. In truth, she’d been so happy to talk about Daisy she hadn’t even realized the story was tumbling out. She glanced down at her coffee mug, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not something I like to think about often.”

“I know,” he said. When she met his eyes, she saw they were warm and wanted to offer comfort. “Come on,” he broke the tension for her, and she was secretly grateful he didn’t press, or keep the silence hanging long enough she felt she had to talk about it. She wasn’t ready. “We still need to go pick up the clowns-” Carson and Callahan “-and you need to show me that barn in person.”

Hazel smiled as she stood up, grabbing the thermos as he took up the empty muffin wrappers and slid the crumbs off the table, throwing them in the trash on their way back to the bedroom to shower and dress. He wrapped an arm around her as she passed him and forced a pause in their walk to place a quick, soft kiss against her temple. An extra touch of comfort. Hazel’s heart warmed as their eyes met, her smile softening.

Matt had stayed most of the day with her. When Hazel finally saw him off it was in the late afternoon, and they tried their best not to talk about how badly they’d miss one another, though the words slipped out anyways. After she watched his truck back down her drive and take off down the road, Hazel loaded Carson and Callahan into her truck and went to relieve Rosie from managing the coffee shop. 

The dogs were always welcome at the shop, though they mostly slept and played in the manager’s office, only occasionally coming out when beckoned by a customer who asked if they could pet them. Hazel loved having a place she could bring her pups along with her if she wanted and was always delighted when someone seemed genuinely enthused to play with them. Some customers brought their dogs by, too, and they’d go out on the white-picket fence enclosed patio to play and have a little fun.

As she let Carson and Callahan inside and the little bell chimed as the door swung closed, she noticed a beautiful painting on the wall; a mountain landscape set in soft, lavender tones. “Oh wow! Is that a new one?”

“It is!” Rosie beamed, clearly happy Hazel had noticed.

“Rosie, it’s gorgeous!” Hazel said, turning to appreciate her friend’s artistic talents. “You really outdid yourself.” She stepped a little closer to it and smiled, looking at the little details that drew her eyes the longer she admired it.

“Thank you sugar,” Rosie said with a wink and couldn’t calm the width of her smile as she practically beamed under the compliment. “But,” her expression turned a little more pointed as Hazel glanced over at her, “Don’t think buttering me up is going to get you out of telling me what happened with Matt last night.”

Hazel laughed. “I wasn’t trying to get out of it! But aren’t you exhausted? You’ve been here since the crack of dawn and we didn’t exactly get to bed early last night.”

Rosie waved her hand dismissively as the pair turned and made for the office. Two of their part-time staff members were on hand to help serve the steady flow of customers coming in and out for a little treat and something warm to drink in the steadily cooling late-fall weather. It gave them the perfect opportunity to slip into the office, closing the door behind them for privacy. Rosie waited until they’d sat, offering Callahan a few scratches behind the ear as he walked over and plopped down in front of her, clearly expecting some love.

“I didn’t tell him what happened with Adam.” Hazel exhaled in a rush, then groaned and shook her head. “I couldn’t. Or, I didn’t want to. I don’t know. It was just so good to be with him again, you know?”

Rosie looked at her with sympathy. “I know, sweetheart. But letting it go on like this is just gonna lead to more heartache when things finally do come out. Adam’s still going to be bringing the horse, right?”

“Yeah,” Hazel said, worrying at her bottom lip and shaking her head. She knew clinging to the excuse that they hadn’t discussed anything was a cheap way out. She knew the right thing would have been to at least clue Matt into her having feelings for Adam, but she couldn’t do it. “So long as she passes her vet check, which I'm sure she will.”

Which meant Adam would be trailering her in. Which meant she would be alone with Adam. She knew she should feel guilty, not excited.

“How long will that take?”

“A few days, maybe? It depends on when the vet can get out there and then when Adam has the time to drive her up.”

Rosie hummed under her breath and then smiled. “She is really pretty.”

“Isn’t she?” Hazel couldn’t ignore how her heart lifted just to think of the little golden mare and how she couldn’t wait to hopefully begin training her on the barrels.

Rosie asked a few more questions about the mare, and Hazel was all too happy to answer. It was much, much easier to gush about her potential new horse than it was to go in anxiety-ridden circles about the potential mess she was making between herself, Matt, and Adam. She went on about a barrel saddle she’d had her eye on buying, light oil color with hand-painted floral details, turquoise and clear crystal embellishments. There was a matching headstall and breast collar to the entire set. Hazel pulled it up on her phone and passed it over, smiling as Rosie marveled at how pretty it was and how well the turquoise would look against Daisy’s golden coat.

It was exciting to talk about these things again. To think the mornings of tugging on her boots and making her way to the stall to feed were just on the horizon. Hazel could barely contain her excitement. All she needed now was to hear from Adam again, and she hoped it would be soon. Both because she wanted to know if she could really begin dreaming of everything she and her new little mare would do and because she could daydream about seeing him again. 

Across from her, Rosie lifted her hand to cover a yawn. Hazel smiled sympathetically and clapped her palms against her thighs, pushing up to her feet.

“Come on,” Hazel said, reaching to pull Rosie up out of her chair. “Your friendship duties are officially over. I know you’re tired out of your mind, so I’m sending you home.” She tugged her out of the office and stopped them in the middle of the shop, despite Rosie’s arguments that she wasn’t that tired, and would be more than happy to keep on talking.

“Go on, get home safe.” Hazel nodded over Rosie’s shoulder to the door.

“Alright, alright,” Rosie said, conceding at last. “But remember,” her tone brought Hazel’s eyes to meet hers. “If you need me, I’m always just a phone call away.”

Hazel’s lips curled upward as she reached to gently grasp Rosie’s hand. “Thank you.” Rosie nodded and turned, waving and giving her goodbye to their staff working behind the counter and once she was gone, Hazel returned to the office to pick up where Rosie’s work had left off.

Two hours into spreadsheets and schedules and budgets that had her eyes wanting to cross, Hazel’s phone buzzed.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Daisy passed her vet check with flying colors.

Hazel’s brows shot up as excitement rushed through her. She couldn’t grab her phone up to reply fast enough.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yay!!!!! I know you’re already helping me out by driving her up to mine since I don’t have a trailer yet, but is it wrong of me to ask how soon you’re able to? I’m just so eager to have her.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Not wrong at all. I’m happy she’s clearly going to a good home. If I could bring her up Friday and leave Dolly with her overnight, you’d be doing me a favor. I have a rodeo about seven hours further north of you on Saturday. I could drive six hours to yours, put Dolly up and that’ll give Daisy some company for the first night in a new place. Then I’ll just stay at a hotel and come back in the morning, load Dolly up and finish my drive to the rodeo.

Hazel read and reread the message. There was nothing wrong with him leaving Dolly overnight and she did like the idea that Daisy would have something and someone familiar on her first night at her new home. But she knew, before she even began typing the message, her reply was going to make it all kinds of wrong.

TEXT TO: Adam

That’s no problem at all! If you want to save money on a hotel, I have a guest bedroom. If it wouldn’t be weird for you. I am still kind of with Matt.

TEXT FROM: Adam

Kind of with… but not dating, right?

Her pulse jumped, but her stomach turned. She sucked in a breath.

TEXT TO: Adam

Yeah…

TEXT FROM: Adam

It’d help me out to not have to pay for a hotel room, so if it wouldn’t be weird for you, I’d appreciate the offer. I’ll keep my hands to myself, if that’s what you want.

She didn’t want that and they both knew it. With a sigh, she glanced over at Carson, who was stretched out on the dog bed in the office. He perked his ears at her as their eyes met.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either, bud.” She said and glanced back down at her phone.

TEXT TO: Adam

Guest bedroom it is. See you Friday. 

She set her phone down and, elbows on the desk, leaned her face into her hands and closed her eyes. This wasn’t fair to Matt. Beside her, Hazel’s phone buzzed. Another text message, probably from Adam. She cracked her eyes open and almost choked on a laugh. Speak of the devil.

TEXT FROM: MATT 💗

Almost home! Just a few more hours. Call you when I get there?

She glanced at the time, and figured she’d be just locking up and getting home when he was finally ready to call.

TEXT TO: MATT 💗

Sounds great babe. Drive safe! 

Another heavy exhale and she set her phone down, glancing back at Carson who was still watching her from where he was laying. He thumped his tail and Hazel smiled flatly. 

“You’re supposed to protect me from things that hurt me, you know that, right?”

He pulled up to his feet, tail wagging increasingly harder the closer to her got, sitting in front of her knees and pushing his head onto her lap. He looked up at her with big brown puppy dog eyes and Hazel sighed, shaking her head and scratching him behind his floppy, soft golden ears.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You can’t protect me from myself. It isn’t your fault.”

Hazel gave him a final little scratch behind the ears and gently pushed him from her lap, turning in the office chair to pick up work again. When she’d done enough scheduling and inventorying and planning to make her want to rake her eyes out, she joined the staff working until closing and helped them behind the counter, checking in with townsfolk she was familiar with and thanking them for coming by. It was nicer than sitting alone in the office with only her thoughts to turn her around and around. Here, conversation stole her attention and left it with nothing to focus on but familiar faces and pleasantry.

The sky became pitch black as the night stretched ever closer, the sun having set a few hours prior. Hazel waved her employees goodnight and locked up, getting Carson and Callahan loaded into the backseat of her truck’s cab before climbing up into the driver’s seat. She was alone with only her thoughts again, but was quick to flip on the radio, deciding if she sang along to her favorite songs it’d be enough to preoccupy her on the drive home.

It was, of course, temporary.

Soon enough she was pulling into the driveway, killing the engine and glancing down at the time on her phone. Matt would likely be calling in just a few minutes. Hazel tucked her phone into her pocket and slid out of the truck, taking Callahan and Carson up to the front door and giving a quick smile over at the still-empty barn. She let her heart lift with excitement, thinking of that cute little golden mare who’d occupy it soon enough.

As soon as she’d lightly tossed her keys into the catch-all on the hallway table, her phone started to ring. When she pulled it out of her pocket, she was relieved to see it was a normal call and not FaceTime. She slid to answer and held it up to her ear.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey you!” He sounded happy. Hazel bit at her bottom lip.

“How was the drive home?”

“Not bad,” he groaned, and she heard a sound like he’d collapsed onto his bed, the sheets and mattress giving way beneath his weight. “Mmm,” he murmured tiredly, “wish you were here though.” A sigh through his nose. “I wasn’t ready to let you go after just one day.”

“I wasn’t ready for you to, either.” A pinch of sadness weighed down her tone. Hazel didn’t understand how she could feel how she felt about him, but also feel the way she felt about Adam both at the same time. It didn’t seem fair. Or reasonable. She knew what it was like to be cheated on, and she didn’t want to be the kind of person that’d bring that sort of pain to someone she cared about. But again, she found herself confused and wondering… was it cheating if they weren’t technically together?

“Sorry,” he said, picking up on the long pause of silence between them. “I didn’t mean to get mopey and be a downer on the conversation.”

“No, no,” she slowly lowered onto the couch, peering off across the room but seeing none of it. She was picturing him, instead. “You don’t need to apologize.” She took a small pause. “Hey, Matt?”

“Hm?”

“Can I say something that might make the conversation even more of a downer?” Her chest felt tight.

“I… guess. What’s wrong?” His voice sounded sharper than it did before. She’d broken through the exhaustion of a long day’s drive and now he was alert.

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about dating until after this rodeo season was over in December,” she started, “but something’s changed and I just need to know if you really see us as exclusively dating - the real thing - after this season is done.”

“I… What do you mean, something’s changed? What changed?”

She could hear a touch of anger in his voice.

No, wait. Not anger. 

Worry.

“Matt,” she sighed and closed her eyes, reaching to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What happens next rodeo season?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happens if during the off-season you decide you have enough time to date, but then the rodeo season starts up again in the spring and you feel like you can’t be around again?”

There was a long pause. Longer than normal.

“Hazel, I…” He trailed off. Every second of silence made her chest ache a little tighter and a little tighter. “I don’t know.”

She exhaled and hated the way her eyes were stinging. “You don’t think we could do it? The long-distance thing?”

“What’s changed, Hazel? I was just there with you yesterday and everything was perfect. Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“I met someone.” It was out of her mouth before she had a second chance to think. Before she could point out there shouldn’t be any difference if they wanted to try dating now or a few months from now. The rodeo and their distance were always going to be there, so why not try and work through it now if that’s what he really wanted?

“You met someone.” He laughed, but there was no humor to it. Now she could hear a little bit of anger.

“Matt, nothing’s happened.” That was a lie. Hazel swallowed against her rising guilt. “I just want to know where we stand. I care about you, Matt.”

I love you, she wanted to say, but she was too terrified to say those three little words and then hear him tell her he didn’t feel the same.

“I care about you too!”

“Do you?” The words practically leapt out of her, pushed by the pain she was feeling. “Because if you cared about me, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to just try dating, Matt. We’re adults, we can figure out trips to see one another.” 

Suddenly this conversation was steamrolling into a fight.

“I already told you I don’t have time to focus on a relationship the way I’d want to. I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.”

“You already are.” Picking the rodeo over her or hurting her? 

Hazel didn’t specify.

The pause was long again. He exhaled a sharp breath, but still didn’t speak. It stretched on a little longer.

“Are you going to say anything?” She asked, hearing how small her voice was.

“I don’t know what to say.”

She swallowed back against the lump in her throat and tried her hardest to keep from crying but felt the slip of a tear down her cheek just a moment after. Careful to stay as quiet as possible so he wouldn’t hear her crying, she reached for a tissue on the coffee table and carefully pressed it against her eyes, looking up at the ceiling and doing her best to not let any more fall or any shaking breaths leave her lips.

“Well,” she tried once she felt like she could get her voice. She could hear the faint roughness of emotion laid over it but tried to keep her tone level. “I guess I should go then.”

“Hazel, we can’t leave it like this. We can’t hang up like this.”

She hated that she could hear the hurt in his voice. He was hurting her. Why wouldn’t he answer her? Why wouldn’t he try? Wouldn’t it make sense, if they were going to date exclusively, to try during the most hectic time of the year to see if they had what it takes to get through the tough stuff? Didn’t that just mean that somewhere, in the back of his mind, he didn’t really want to be with her as much as he thought he did?

“I don’t know what to say.” She echoed his words back to him, to hurt him too, but she didn’t feel particularly good about it. It just hurt her more. She heard another breath rush out of his lungs.

He cursed under his breath. “Hazel, I care about you, okay? I wouldn’t have driven all that way to surprise you if I didn’t.”

“I know,” Hazel closed her eyes tight, hoping that’d continue to keep the tears at bay. “But you don’t want to date right now?”

“The NFR is just two months away,” he said quietly. “Can’t we just wait to talk about this until then? Maybe there’ll be a rodeo close enough for you to come out and stay the weekend with me? I think I have one this weekend that’s about seven hours away from you.”

“I’d have to talk to Rosie and see if she could cover the shop for me,” she trailed off and then shook her head, remembering, “No, wait. I can’t. I’m getting my horse on Friday.”

“Oh… I think the other ones are all out-of-state. Wyoming and Montana until we head to Vegas for the NFR.” He paused and when he spoke next, she could tell he was trying to make his voice lighter, trying to patch them up and pull them away from that sad place they’d been in. “But hey! You didn’t tell me your horse passed the vet check. That’s exciting!”

Her heart was too heavy to lift, even for that. It felt like a cheap way to distract her from what they’d been talking about.

“Yeah, it is.” She looked up at her ceiling. “I need to go... I have to be up early so I can open the shop.”

“Okay,” he said, but she heard the hesitation in the pause that followed. They still hadn’t soothed what wounds they’d both opened, and now neither of them knew how to. If they hung up, the sting would have no choice but to linger. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Hazel.”

“Bye, Matt.”

She pulled her phone slowly away, blinked at his name and the seconds trickling by the timestamp on their phone call. The screen blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She clicked the red circle to hang-up before they started to fall.

***********

A loud, long groan pushed with effort from his chest, barely muffled behind closed lips, his jaw clenched tight. His work-glove covered hands curled around the handles of the hay hooks buried at either side of the fifty-pound bale of alfalfa hay and he hoisted it upward, biceps bulging against his sun-tanned skin with the effort. He turned his body and swung the bale up onto the stack in his hay barn which he’d parked the trailer beside to unload.

The work kept him occupied and pushed the frustrations that’d plagued him through a sleepless night. Some bales that he lifted, he practically screamed through, but it was only against the thoughts that’d been circling endlessly around in his head and spreading an ache in his chest. He kept trying to shake it off. Each time he tugged the hay hooks from the bale and stabbed them aggressively into the next to be unloaded, he hoped some of that tension would ease out of his body. Maybe he’d exhaust himself enough that he’d just lay back right there on the scratchy hay and pass out and wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Sweat dripped down his temple and he paused, stretching upright with the hooks left in the bale, reaching to wipe it away with the back of his hand before it hit his eyes. His other hand swiped the black cowboy hat from his head and he fanned himself briefly with the brim, stirring the few wisps of brown hair that’d untucked from his low bun as he worked. He realized it felt loose and dropped his hat onto the hay bale, reaching up to secure it again. His arms burned with a familiar, comfortable ache and he knew he’d have no hope but to fall into a deep sleep tonight.

“I thought you were going to wait until I was over to unload!” Nick’s familiar voice called up from a short distance away, and Matt dropped his hands slow, reaching to pick up his hat and wiping the little flakes of alfalfa that’d stuck to it. He stuck it low on his brow before he turned to look at his brother, who’d now reached the flatbed and was peering up at him with a frown, long fingers pinching his narrow hips.

“I needed to do something.” He said, voice strained as he realized how thirsty he was. He tugged off his gloves, hands warm, and tossed them gently onto the next hay bale he was supposed to move.

Nick’s frown deepened. He turned to where Matt had left his bottle of water and chucked it underhand up to him. “What’s going on?”

Matt twisted the cap off and looked over at his younger brother, pushing a sigh out of his nose and dropping his shoulders. “I fucked things up with Hazel.” He tipped the bottle back and took a swallow, using it as an opportunity to avoid meeting Nick’s eyes.

“What? How?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed and licked the residue water from his lips. That was a lie, he did know. He also knew that all he had to do was tell Nick the conversation verbatim, and Nick would know too.

Nick didn’t press or say anything. He pushed up on the flatbed trailer, where there was space for his boots to firmly land on the secured wood-beams that made the bed. Matt had already managed to clear a decent amount of bales on his own, but he was feeling the exhaustion at having overexerted himself because of it.

Another sigh.

“She met someone else, Nick.”

Nick’s brows lifted. He tugged his gloves from the back pocket of his Wranglers and pulled them onto his hands, stepping into Matt’s space as Matt took a few steps to the side. Setting the bottle of water aside he reached for his gloves, tugging them on as he considered what happened on the phone with Hazel the night prior.

As Nick grabbed the handle of the hook on the left side, Matt grabbed the right. They maneuvered the bale onto the pile being stacked in the hay storage and when Matt tugged the hook free, he spoke.

“She told me something had changed, and then asked me what happens next rodeo season.” He blinked, a frown pushing his dark brows together. His arm swung as he buried the metal hook into the next bale. “I-”a grunt broke between his words “-asked her what had changed and she told me she met someone.” He tried to say it as if it didn’t tap on one of those very fears that’d worried him about them dating.

“So she doesn’t want to talk anymore?” Nick asked, hoisting his side up as Matt followed suit and they stacked the next bale.

“No,” Matt shook his head. “She didn’t say that. But we got…” he glanced down at the toes of his boots, gaze distant as he remembered lying on his bed, heart pounding so fast and hard in his chest he felt sick, fingers curled so tight around his phone they ached and his knuckles were white.

I don’t want to hurt you when I have to pick the rodeo over you.

You already are.

His eyes rolled up to the sky as he tipped his head back. A dry laugh left him on an exhale, but there was no humor in it. “We got into a fight. A real one.” His head tipped back forward and his eyes slid to Nick’s. “I can’t remember the last time I was with a girl long enough to have fought with her.”

“Girls yell at you all the time,” Nick said, swinging the curved hook into his side of the bale.

A grin curled the edge of Matt’s mouth beneath his mustache. “Shut up,” he said half-heartedly, stabbing his hook into the hay and hoisting the weight upward as Nick did too. Once they’d swung the bale onto the stack and released the hooks, Matt shrugged. “That doesn’t count. That’s them yelling at me about how I’m a no-good scoundrel who’s only love is rodeo gold, that’s not us fighting.”

“You’ve never stuck around long enough to fight with them.” Nick said it casually, but Matt felt himself tense.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He spat it out with a little more venom than he’d intended, gesturing vaguely. “My focus has always been on our career, and that’s no different now. Where am I supposed to fit a relationship in with a woman who lives a whole day’s drive away?”

Matt stabbed the hook into his bale, but Nick didn’t do his. Straightening upright, Matt looked at his brother and saw Nick was watching him with an almost sympathetic look across his face. Matt hated how much it cut through him, how it immediately tugged away the anger that was keeping him safe from feeling how hurt he was. His eyes dropped away from Nick’s.

“You sort of already are, Matt.”

Matt glanced up and saw Nick was still steadily watching him. For all of Matt’s anxious ticks and nervous energy, Nick was calm and still, far more collected of the two. Nick pulled his glove off and scratched at the light scruff on his chin as his brows pinched inward and he narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you play your normal games with the rodeo girls.” Nick’s eyes slid to Matt and his brows lifted beneath the brim of his baseball cap, pushing the brim just slightly up his forehead. “I think the last time was when you met her.”

Matt shrugged and turned away, as though that would hide what having those truths laid out bare in front of him made him feel, and how scared he was to feel those feelings. “Come on,” he said, encouraging Nick to put his work gloves back on and help hoist the hay. “She already met someone else. It was only a matter of time anyways. She deserves someone who’s going to be there for her more than I can be. Who isn’t going to hurt her like I have.”

Nick was slow to put his glove on, but didn’t talk until he’d picked his hook back up and secured it into the bale. “For all we’ve known each other - and it has been quite some time,” he pushed through gritted teeth as they hoisted the hay up onto the stack and tugged his hook free, “I’ve never known you to be a quitter. Especially if it’s not something your heart wants.”

**********

“Okay, I don’t think she’s paying attention to us.”

“No, I don’t think she is. She hasn’t looked over since we said her name an entire minute ago.”

“So we could say whatever we want about her and she wouldn’t hear it?”

“Probably.” A little snickering followed, but just like the question Andrea had asked her a moment ago, Hazel heard none of it. Her foot was bouncing beside the chair as her eyes pinned to the semi-busy afternoon crowds down main street outside her’s and Rosie’s coffee shop. She was sitting at one of the window seats, across from her was Rosie and Andrea, as the three girls had a little get-together one of the few nights Andrea had a chance to leave her siblings behind and had no shift at either of the jobs she worked.

They’d caught up on what had happened between Hazel and Matt and the fact that she hadn’t heard from him since their fight on Monday. She hadn’t tried to text or call him back, and he hadn’t tried to text or call her.

“Does this mean you guys are over?” Andrea had asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Hazel didn’t want to say yes, though that’s certainly what it felt like.

“Hey! Hazel! Hello!” Andrea’s voice was suddenly loud, and it made her jump as her wide-eyes swung back to find her friends staring at her with matching grins.

“Sorry,” she said, “did you ask me something?”

“Yeah, about five minutes ago!”

“Sorry!” Hazel laughed and shook her head.

“It’s okay,” Rosie laughed, “we know you can’t think of anything but Daisy.”

Adam would be sending her a message as soon as he was an hour outside town. It would give her time to leave the shop, drive home and do another check to make sure everything was ready for the mare. Or, mares, since Dolly would be staying the night too. As would her handler.

Hazel was trying not to think about that too much, along with making the egregious mistake of assuming she could be reasonable and keep her hands off of him and stay in her room and not do anything to further complicate her love life. Instead, she was putting all her focus and attention on the arrival of her new horse. It wasn’t too hard to do, given how excited she was about being a horse owner again, and how much she couldn’t wait to run Daisy on the barrels. It was like a piece of her had reawoken, something that she thought she’d lost long, long ago.

“I can’t wait,” Hazel confessed, looking between her friends and beaming. “I can’t wait for you to meet her Andrea, she’s an absolute sweetheart.”

“She really is,” Rosie agreed.

“Don’t be surprised if Grace starts asking for a sleepover at Auntie Hazel’s,” Andrea said. Grace was her youngest sibling at seven years-old, and the only girl. “She’s in that horse-crazy phase of her young girl years.”

“Ah,” Hazel said, nodding, “a phase I know all too well. Some of us never grow out of it.” Their light laughter was broken by Hazel’s phone chiming and lighting up where it sat on the table in front of her. She squealed to see Adam’s name and was quick to open his message. “Looks like it’s time for me to head home and check everything over.” She said, smiling back up at her friends.

“Adam’s close?” Rosie asked.

“Yep,” Hazel pushed the chair back as she stood, “I’ll send you guys some videos of her settling in!” 

The girls said their goodbyes and Hazel rounded up Carson and Callahan, loading them in her truck before she headed for home. She couldn’t get there fast enough, even knowing Adam was still an entire hour out. Her giddiness made her realize twice she was speeding, and she’d exhale with a laugh as she eased the foot off the pedal and slowed her truck down. She felt like a kid at Christmas, all the excitement inside her pouring out in what felt like a permanent smile that’d been on her face all day.

The following hour passed surprisingly quickly as she did a check around the barn and turnout paddocks, filled two stalls with a little over a foot of soft sawdust flakes, and got the water buckets filled before flipping the automatic fill nozzles on. Hazel had just swung the back door toward the turnout paddock open when she heard the rumble of the truck’s engine and glanced to see Adam pulling his horse trailer up the drive.

Wiping her hands on her jeans she darted out of the barn and half-jogged to where he slowly pulled the truck to a stop. 

“Hey!” She called as he climbed out of the cab.

“Hello again,” he said warmly, and opened his arms to envelope her in a friendly hug. Hazel didn’t hesitate, and something in her softened to have his arms around her and his scent - whatever shampoo and conditioner he used, horses, leather, and the faint spearmint from the gum he’d been chewing - in her nose, her lungs as she dragged a deep enough breath for it. He must’ve sensed something, because as she snuggled in close, Adam’s hands flattened on her back, holding her closer into his front. 

Hazel buried her face against him, and let the pain she’d been feeling that past week slip away, second by second that he held her. His arms shifted, he pulled her back just enough to lift his thick fingers to her chin, guiding it up so their eyes could meet. The way concern looked on his face made her heart ache.

“You alright?” He asked, his green eyes jumping between hers.

“Yeah,” she exhaled and nodded. “I’m okay.” 

The hand that’d been holding her chin reached to cup her cheek. His thumb skimmed across her skin. “Alright.” He said. He wouldn’t press, wouldn’t make her tell him why she’d needed to hold him so tightly. 

“Want to introduce your girl to her new home?” He tilted his head toward the trailer, blond curls gently shifting with the movement.

“Yes!” She practically jumped in his arms and was only remiss for a second when their embrace broke.

As Adam went to unhitch the back of the trailer, Hazel popped the side door, speaking softly to the golden mares as she stepped inside the trailer. She ran a gentle hand along Daisy’s haunches and down her spin, shifting between them to where her lead was securely knotted. Quick work undid the nylon and Hazel gently turned her, leading her out of the trailer. “Welcome home, Daisy,” she said as they walked down the ramp and onto the gravel driveway outside.

Daisy lifted her nose in the air, nostrils flaring as she sucked in deep, fresh breaths of all the new smells. She jerked her head lightly on the lead - not enough to disturb Hazel’s grasp, though it tightened all the same - and looked around, ears pointing forward, attentive. Hazel smiled and rubbed her free hand down Daisy’s warm, strong neck. “What do you see, girl?” She asked her, starting to walk, Daisy more than happy to fall in step with her.

As Hazel showed her around the yard, Adam unloaded Dolly, who was clearly happy to be able to uncramp her legs from the trailer.

“Let’s turn them out in the arena,” Hazel suggested, nodding toward it. “They can stretch their legs and get some energy out.” She could tell when Daisy had turned and seen her sister that her excitement had mounted and the clips of her hooves hit a little more rapidly as she swung her hips, moving restlessly. It’d be good to let them burn this off.

Adam nodded and started toward the arena, Dolly glancing around as he led her toward the gate. Hazel followed in tow with Daisy, who seemed confident and happy following her older sister. Adam popped the latch and pushed it open on the hinge, walking Dolly in a few steps over the soft sand-dirt blend arena. He reached up to unclip her lead as Hazel led Daisy in behind them, reaching to do the same before Daisy could get too excited about her sister already trotting a few paces out. The lead unclipped, Daisy tossed her head and pulled her legs up in a high-knee trot, cream-white tail flagging out behind her muscled haunches.

Adam joined Hazel, standing side by side with her as they both held their horse’s respective leads, smiling and watching the mares in the arena.

As Daisy approached Dolly, Dolly lifted her head and kicked out her heels playfully, picking up the pace to egg her younger sister into a chase. The two uncramped their muscles from the six-hour long travel in the trailer, and worked through their energy at being in a completely new place with new smells. Dolly was used to traveling and her confident nature would help ease Daisy into this place too, making it more something to be intrigued by than fearful of. It was a good thing Adam had a rodeo and needed to bring Dolly, too. Hazel watched both golden mares stop at the other end of the arena and glance out toward the foothills, side by side as they pointed their ears over the fence and listened to whatever caught their attention.

“She looks right at home here,” Adam said, and it drew Hazel’s eyes toward him.

“She does.” She agreed with a smile.

“Want to give these girls a break? Show me around your barn?” He offered.

“Sure,” Hazel agreed with a smile, and turned to walk back toward the arena gate they’d gently closed after releasing the mares. They hung the leads on the fencepost, since they wouldn’t need them until they were ready to put the mare’s up for the night, and exited. Adam latched the arena gate and waved a hand at Dolly and Daisy, who’d glanced over to curiously watch them make their exit.

“It’s definitely nowhere near as fancy as yours,” she started, not wanting his expectations through the roof as she led him across the yard toward it.

“Well, you’re also not a multi-year bronc bustin’ rodeo champion with a ranch horse breeding business on the side.”

“Fair point,” she laughed as he raised his brows and fixed her with a pointed, green-eyed stare. He grinned shortly after, and her eyes lingered over how handsome happiness looked on him. It made his cheeks perfectly round and pinchable, with a brightness in his green eyes that nearly made them shine blue.

They reached the little three stall barn and Hazel tried to temper her smile as she walked him around, showed him the stalls and their swing out doors to the small turn-outs, the little tack room that doubled as a feed room and an all-purpose room, too. No wide wash-stalls with cross-ties here. It was a humble little stable but, like Adam said, it wasn’t like she was raising a whole herd of horses or in the business of it,  no matter how much she’d love to be.

Still, Hazel was proud of it. She had built the frame with her own two hands, even if a company had finished it, furnished it and given it some pretty little upgrades she might not have put the time into herself. 

“I like it,” he said, his nod shifting the blond curls resting on his broad, muscled shoulders.

“Yeah?” She asked, smiling up at him.

“Yeah! I can see it’s new, no little dents from the day-to-day, can still smell the fresh paint, everything is shiny and unlived in but, it feels like…” he paused, “feels like it’ll be a home. It’s warm; it has heart.”

Hazel laughed softly.

“What?” He asked.

“Sometimes I feel like you’ve got a poet’s soul, cowboy.”

“Aw,” he grunted, and she was pleased to see just a little bit of red in his cheeks as he smiled. “I normally don’t talk this much to people.” He said, then sighed. “Well, I do. I can talk my way into looking comfortable in any size crowd so well, people will think I must be a natural. Truth is, most of the time I’m around people, I’m terrified as hell. What if I say the wrong thing? Is it wrong that I really don’t care that Kenny’s playing a new video game? Am I acting like I do enough so I don’t come off rude as he talks to me about it? Am I maybe being a little spoiled, not wanting to talk to my friend about something he likes or is it okay that I don’t want to? Am I a good person?” He rattled off the questions with a good-humored exaggeration of his worried persona until she was biting down hard into her smile as he did. 

Hazel shook her head and reached out to touch his forearm. He brought his eyes to hers, and his posture relaxed. One of his free hands reached up to cup her face.

“But with you, I feel like I can say exactly what I want to say, and I want you to accept and understand me so bad, and then you do. Or you say something I’ve been thinking, but haven’t managed to put together to make sense of it yet. You just…” he exhaled, and she felt the warmth of it over her lips. He’d sank down closer to her, as if every word pulled them in like magnets. “You scare me, Hazel, but you make me feel more like me than I’ve ever been comfortable with before.” 

And their lips met, her answer a muffled whine, sweet and heartfelt against his tongue. He inhaled sharp, and his hand slipped from her face to pinch into her waist, his other hand flanking her other side. He squeezed hard, harder than he’d meant to as a muscle jumped in his blond hair-dusted forearms and his hold relaxed, just a little. His thick, tall body bullied her back to the wall where she went willingly, just like before.

Her back flattened and his body was quick to push warm and needy against her front. A perfectly placed knee guided her legs apart so he could shuffle in a step closer, pushing the bulge growing between her legs against her thigh. They fell into where they were a week ago in his barn as if no time had passed or location had changed. Adam’s hand pushed up her shirt, calloused hands grazing her soft tummy as they moved upward. His greedy fingers slipped under her bra until they found her left nipple, squeezing it and giving it a slight pull - just enough to make her moan into his mouth and his grin to smear across their kiss.

Hazel pulled her head away to look at him and saw how dark his eyes were. He almost looked like a man possessed, so hungry for her, with so many emotions flooding the surface. She could feel nothing but loved beneath a gaze like that, and with how low her heart had been all week, it was more than she could ask for.

Adam released her left nipple and slipped to cup her right breast instead, wiggling to offer it the same treatment, pushing his mouth hot against hers to muffle another little yelp of pleasure-pain that pulled from her throat when he pinched it. Her hips moved restlessly against him, rubbing his growing, jean-clad cock on her thigh and herself on his sturdy, large thigh. It shoved the stitching of her jeans against her thin little panties, and she gasped shakily when their mouths moved apart.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling away to get a good look down at her. His eyes jumped over her face and he smiled, almost in wonder. “C’mere, I want to see you.” His voice husky, gentle. Adam took his fingers out from where he was stretching the elastic of her bra and out of her shirt, pinching the hem instead. He slipped it up her body, eyes meeting hers to make sure it was what she wanted.

Hazel didn’t hesitate. With their eyes locked, she took her shirt from his grasp and ripped it quickly over her head. When his eyes fell greedy to her cleavage she wasted no time twisting an arm behind her back, grasping her bra’s clasp and twisting to pop it free. Adam’s eyes jumped to hers, then back down as she peeled the material away and dropped it at his feet in the barn aisle next to her shirt.

“God damn, Hazel,” he whispered in a hot breath as one hand lifted to lightly hold the weight of her bare breast, his eyes falling from hers, to it. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her teased hard, sensitive nipple and she inhaled a sharp breath. His head of golden curls bent so his mouth could engulf her breast and the flat of his wide tongue could flick back and forth across her little pink nipple.

Hazel bent her head back, eyes on the wood-beams above. Adam’s warm mouth worshipped one breast, then moved to the other to offer it the same treatment. His fingers crawled down to her jeans and tested the loops before turning in toward the button. He slipped it free then lifted his head, and his eyes - dark with need - met hers. The brief moment of pause in the chaos. The one chance to say “Are you sure?” without actually saying the words. As if there was any chance she’d want to go back now. As if there was any chance they could rein in the coming storm their passion felt like it would be.

She nodded, just barely, and a grin curved Adam’s mouth. The zipper of her jeans tugged down with a loud, quick zip, but before he could tug them down, she was prying at the hem of his shirt and pushing it up his thick, warm torso.

“Fair’s fair,” she said as he bent in and tasted the skin of her neck. “I’m shirtless, so you have to be too.”

She could feel his grin against her skin, and he was still smiling as he took his thick fingers off her jeans and stepped back just enough to have the room to strip. “Didn’t realize we had rules,” he teased as he pulled the material up his body and let it fall carelessly to the floor beside them. Hazel’s eyes swept down his handsome face to that broad chest, down the subtle curve of his belly where just an inch of fat hung over his tooled leather belt, and the big, shiny buckle bit into it.

“I like my rule,” she said, reaching to put her hands on his biceps and sliding them up his shoulders. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad rule,” he leaned in to put his mouth in the hollow dip of her neck and taste the skin down to her collar bone. His short beard scratched at her as his kisses turned a little more feverish, and his fingers once again wiggled their way toward her jeans.

This time Hazel didn’t stop him and after only a brief hesitation he tugged the stiff material of her jeans down her hips and thighs, kneeling in front of her and helping her out of her boots. A shiver ran over her body - nearly nude spare her thin, teal panties - as he straightened over her.

“Cold?” He asked in a low voice, and crowded his warm body closer. One of his hands framed her face, his fingertips tracing her jaw. He brought her eyes up to his and gently ran the flat of his thumb over the shape of her lips.

“No,” she whispered as he pulled his hand away. “I just feel… exposed.”

He paused for a minute, glancing over his shoulder toward the open end of the small stable, then back at her. “It’s just us, darlin’.”

“I know, but it’s been a long time since I was in a barn with a cowboy, naked and about to be fucked up against the wall.” 

Adam grinned. “Would it make you feel better if I was just as naked as you?”

“Absolutely.” The word was out of her mouth before she even had time to playfully pretend to think about it. Her eagerness made his grin spread, and he nodded his head before he stepped back and his thumb played at his belt. Her eyes fell down to it just as he tugged it’s clasp free, then left the belt open and dangling as he went for the button on his jeans. Hazel saw it then - the lump that’d grown along his thigh in his Wranglers - and sucked in a sharp breath as he undid the button and tugged the zipper down. He groaned in relief as he released the pressure from his filling cock, and her eyes jerked up to his face to see the way that relief looked there.

Adam’s eyes rolled forward and he pushed his jeans down, one hand flattening on the wall by her head to balance his body as he stepped out of his jeans and boots. He was left looking down at her, his chest rising and falling, green eyes so dark they were nearly black as they pooled over her face. She wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers was. Surely it was.

His body shifted as he lowered before her, his palms skimming the shape of her body as he knelt. He tilted his head back, gold curls spilling over his broad back, and looked up at her as she tipped her chin to her chest to look down at him. His hands slipped around her hips and into the fat of her ass, squeezing and pushing her toward his face. It brought his Roman nose against her pantyline, and he pushed it harder, exhaling a warm breath over the thin material before he kissed it over her clit. Shivers ran through her body again. Her hands landed on his firm shoulders.

Adam pressed his mouth more firmly against her panties, his tongue testing the material, teasing them as he pushed it between her lips but didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of actually tasting her. The tip swirled around her clit, inspiring more shivers down her thighs. She stuttered on a gasp as she leaned her head back and pushed her hips a little more eagerly toward him. As his mouth teased them both by tasting her through her panties, his fingers released the fat of her ass he’d gripped hard into (likely leaving prints of his hand in her skin) and crawled up toward the elastic of her panties. They curled and he slid them down, pulling his head back enough to pull them free, and she could fill his heavy, thick warm breath against her bare skin.

He leaned in slowly, and that warmth filled more and more of the crevices between her legs and then, languid, he pressed and slipped his tongue from the bottom of her pussy lips to the top, then swirled around and teased her clit. Hazel half-moaned, half-whined as her eyes rolled back and her hips pushed eagerly forward. Adam’s calloused palms slipped back to her ass and held her against his mouth as his feasting became more fervent. His tongue plunged between her folds, his lips latched to her sensitive, raised clit. His fingers gripped, released, and regripped the fat of her ass, pressing the prints of his hands in her skin. He released her clit only for the clever tip of his tongue to flick it back and forth in short, quick strokes, enough to make her take quicker, sharper breaths and release louder, needier moans. Her thighs trembled and he groaned against her pussy, vibrating where she was sensitive and a wet mess of cum and saliva. He held her even more firmly against his mouth and her eyes rolled back, lips hanging open but no sound coming out as she held her breath and reached the inevitable edge…

His tongue slipped off her clit and he pulled back. The air was cold against her pussy. Hazel released a shaking, confused breath and dropped her chin, eyes looking down as he looked up, kneeling between her legs. One of his blond brows was arched, lines wrinkling his forehead. He had a lazy grin, and she nearly felt dizzy when she saw how wet his lips and the beard around them was.

“Oh no, darlin,” he murmured, his voice husky and low as he slowly rose to be that warm shadow over her. “The first time I get you to cum,” his fingers were on her arms, gripping and rubbing up before dipping in and fondling her breasts. His thumbs swiped her raised, needy nipples, “my cock is going to be inside you.” He leaned and pushed his mouth against hers and as their tongues tangled, she tasted herself on him. As he broke their kiss and leaned in to leave a trail along her jaw, his nose in her hair and breath on her ear, he whispered, “I just needed to taste you first.”

One of his hands stayed on her hips, the other reached to shove his boxer-briefs down his hairy thighs. She felt his cock tap her thigh as it sprang free, but didn’t have much time to reflect on how long or thick it’d felt, or even glance down between their bodies to peek. Adam was already shuffling in and, gripping his arms underneath her ass, lifting her up off her feet. Hazel squealed in surprise, her legs forced around his hips as he bullied her back against the wall and used it for further support. She could feel the strength in his biceps as her hands landed on their curve, the muscle tense underneath. Her eyes flew to his and the moment their pupils locked, he slid her down smooth and wet on his cock.

A low moan crawled slowly out of his mouth, pushed inch by inch the more of his cock he sank inside her. Hazel held her breath, feeling the way his girth stretched her, until she was sat sac-deep on top of him. “Adam,” she whined, their gaze had broken when his eyes rolled back in pleasure and they snapped forward - black, not green - and met hers.

“God, Hazel,” his words were tight, his breath stuttered. He readjusted the grip on her body and lifted her up, then sank her back down. His hips pushed in as he carefully lowered her on top of him, enjoying each and every thrust. His eyes rolled back as he shuddered.

Hazel’s hands slid up his arms and around his neck, helping him as his hands gripped the back of her thighs. It was getting harder with sweat smearing over their skin and sticking them together. Her legs jerked with every thrust as they started to grow in speed at an almost reckless pace. He poured moans into her ear, pressing hot breaths into her hair. Those dirty sounds lifted into the tall beam ceiling of the stable and poured out of the open doors at the end of the walkway.

He pressed a kiss against her temple and then stilled, cock buried to the sac inside her. Hazel groaned - God, the way his thick girth stretched her - and rolled her eyes forward, chest heaving with the deep breaths she had to take. 

“I’m going to move us, alright?” He asked in her ear between heavy gasps of his own that stirred her hair.

Hazel nodded, and held a little tighter around his neck, pulling her body toward his as he grunted and moved her off the support of the wall. His cock slipped out of her in the shuffle and she squeezed, instinctively, missing the feeling of him filling her. Using his strong grip, with her legs hanging over his hips, he turned her toward the stalls, moving for the half-door that was still hanging open. It was the last stall she’d bedded down with over a foot of soft, fresh sawdust bedding, and that’s what he slowly lowered her down into, following on his knees. Hazel was amazed at his strength and control, her hands sliding from around his neck and palms pressing down the muscles in his arms.

Adam threw a shadow over her, smiling a lop-sided grin as he pressed his hips toward hers and pried her pussy lips apart with the head of his cock. With a grunt he slid down and pushed in, stretching her around him without enough time passed to grant either of them any sort of sanity. This is where they were now, making love in the stable, only the two of them and no one there to interrupt.

Their eyes locked for a few intimate strokes, her kiss-swollen lips stuck open, with soft little cries falling out of them each time he shoved the head of his cock deep inside her. Leaning down over her, Adam put his weight in one forearm, freeing the other hand to chase down their bodies. His fingers found that already teased little red button and twitched across it as he continued to fill her with his cock. Whether he meant to sync the strokes of his fingers with that of his cock or not, he was soon driving her wild, making her press her head into the give of the stall bedding and her fingers to grab a tight hold on him, wherever she could grab.

“Oh, God, Adam!” she managed to get out between sharp inhales, her brow knitting tight together as the pressure built nearly unbearably high inside her. She was so close...

“MmmHazel,” he groaned near her ear, pleasure undeniable in his stuck-together words. A low breath and then he exhaled a gentle command, “Cum for me, darlin’.”

Another circle of his fingers over her clit, a quick shove in of his cock, and a surprised cry was all that could fly out of her lips before her eyes were rolling and stars burst behind them. Her thighs trembled and clapped his, pressed up under her as they were. Her muscles pulled tight on him, her little cries and the way her fingernails bit into his shoulders more and more evidence to the way he’d driven her wild.

A gentleman, he slowed his thrusts through her pulses, gently rocking with each and clenching his jaw, clearly straining to keep himself from losing it inside her. He slowly pulled his fingers away from her sensitive little button and buried his hand into the gentle give of the sawdust by her head. Hazel’s eyes opened up dazedly on the golden curly haired cowboy above her, and saw his slow, proud smile crawl across his lips. If she wasn’t so out of it, she might’ve grabbed a handful of sawdust to chuck at him for how confident and cocky he looked right then.

“Jesus it took everything not to cum with you,” he murmured, his hips pulling back, then pressing in and starting to slowly fuck her again as he bent and pushed his lips against hers.

“Why didn’t you?” She barely had a voice when their mouths broke apart.

“I’ve been dreaming about being inside you-” he paused to groan as a particular slow stroke of his cock pressing deep inside her felt good “-for months now. Call me greedy, but,” another kiss, and he breathed the last of his words tight across her mouth as he slowly pulled his hips back, “I wanted a little bit more.”

Despite her entire body feeling like it was made out of jelly, Hazel had to agree. She wasn’t ready for their lovemaking to be over, either. Even if she didn’t know how she was even going to manage to stand once they were finally through. Adam readjusted himself, pushing his weight into his hands so he could sit upright between her legs. His palms settled on her wide hips and pinched, pulling her slowly, inch-by-inch off his girth, then tugging her back up. Hazel appreciated the new position, able to look up her naked body at Adam sweating, straining, and grunting as he pulled her up and down his cock. Every thrust made her breasts jerk and she watched his hungry eyes jump from where they were joined, watching his cock buried inside her, to her breasts instead and appreciate how each quick thrust made them move.

One of his hands left her hip and flattened on her soft midsection, thumb settling over her clit. As he circled it, Hazel groaned. She wasn’t sure she could get worked up enough for another orgasm so soon, that last one had been so strong. “Adam…”

That lop-sided grin barely tugged across his mouth again and his thumb left her alone just enough to gently press into her wet, just barely able to wiggle in there with his cock already stretching her. She moaned and he pulled it out quick, returning to her already teased clit. He swept her wet over it, teasing her as he started pounding his cock a little harder and a little faster into her. This time the stroking didn’t match the driving of his hips, but even when she would have sworn he must be close to cumming, he held off, instead continuing to tease her and draw her toward yet another orgasm. Hazel could do absolutely nothing to keep the dam from breaking.

“Adam!” She cried out and jerked over him, her skin slapping his. 

He grunted, still plunging in and out of her, tearing his hand away from her clit. Adam fell back over her, driving his cock inside her in quick, fast thrusts. Only a few inches were pulled out before he was shoved back in, all while she cried and came and twitched, eyes rolled back. She was too sensitive through her orgasm for his fast fucking, and it was just making her cum harder. He grunted, shoved himself sac-deep inside her, and then stilled to stone. 

It didn’t and couldn’t matter the way he had her scrunched and fucked into the layers of sawdust - they were both happy victims to their muscles seizing in their body and electricity rushing through their nerves. Hazel felt the warmth of his cum shooting hard up into her enough to make her cry out when it did. He flooded her cunt, filled her up, and then was a shuddering, almost too-warm weight above her just barely leaning off from crushing her underneath him as they caught their breath.

The last few minutes of their fucking had been so fast-paced, lost in her orgasm, that Hazel’s mind took a few minutes to catch back up. It seemed he did too. 

“That was…” he sighed, blinked and let his green eyes find her face. One of his hands reached up to delicately pluck the sawdust out of her hair, then pushed the lock from where it’d stuck to her face with sweat. His calloused palm fell to gently holding her cheek and Hazel smiled tiredly up at him. She felt at peace. Adam leaned down and softly laid a kiss against her forehead, then slowly one on each cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. He didn’t deepen their kiss, but let it linger in a way that cherished the touch. Only when he broke away from her mouth and their eyes met did he finish the sentence he’d started a little bit ago. “Amazing.”

“Mhmm,” she murmured agreement and leaned up to steal another short kiss, still not able to have enough of him. When their lips broke he sank down, a warmth atop her, and they relaxed again in their joined company for a few quiet minutes. Her fingers traced random circles on his shoulder blades, and he was careful where to lay his weight so he didn’t smother her. He kissed her temple, and gently breathed against her ear. In the distance they heard one of the horses snort.

“We should probably get up and go shower,” he suggested, but didn’t bother moving his body off of her or even pull his slowly wilting cock from where it was still lodged between her legs. “We smell like sweat and sawdust and sex.”

“Sweat, sawdust, and sex. It has a nice ring to it.” She said, but couldn’t help but agree. The longer they lingered in the stall the more the pleasure that’d filled her head was slipping away and the more she could feel the slight uncomfortableness creeping in. The sweat and sawdust now made her skin feel a bit itchy, and she couldn’t deny that she’d appreciate a shower to clean herself of it. “But you’re right,” she sighed and lifted a hand (noticing how many little flakes were stuck on her arm and smiling) to gently run through his blond curls, “a shower would feel nice if I could get up.”

“Come on, come on,” he grunted, slowly pulling himself up from her and gently pulling his still-sensitive cock from between her legs. He reached a hand down to her once he’d stood and lifted her up. A grin split over his face at the shape of her body pressed into the bedding, as did the fact that most of her backside was covered in it. Sweeping a quick hand down her skin he helped shake most of it off, and though she was thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, the caresses of his work-calloused hands still inspired pleasurable shivers.

They gathered their clothes that’d been discarded in the walkway outside the stable, then giggled as they ran like children, hand-in-hand and naked as the day they were born across the yard and into the house.

“Thank God I don’t have any close enough neighbors!” Hazel laughed breathlessly once they were safely inside.

“I bet they would’ve appreciated the sight,” humor in his voice that matched the sparkle in his eyes, Adam was still grinning as he leaned to place a sweet kiss on her forehead, then gently smacked her bare ass with an open palm.

She rolled her eyes, but was still grinning too. 

It was strange that even though this was the first time Adam was in her home, it felt as though he’d been coming here for years. They walked down the hall and to her room, setting their clothes in the laundry basket, then moving for the master bath. Approaching the shower, Hazel turned the handle to start the water, sticking a hand under the stream to test the temperature.

“I wish I wasn’t leaving so early in the morning.” He said, coming up behind her. His hands settled like gentle weights on her hips and he held her there as they waited for the water to warm.

Hazel turned her head to look over at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Me neither.” She sighed.

“I could always stay…”

“What about the rodeo?”

Adam rolled his eyes and tugged at her hips, pulling her and turning her around to face him. His arms wrapped lazily around her and he tilted his head, chin to chest as he locked his eyes with hers. A slight frown worried its way across his brow. “I’m already guaranteed a spot in the NFR, I can afford to miss a rodeo.”

She didn’t want to compare him to Matt, she didn’t want to do that when it wasn’t fair to do to Matt… but something in her heart that had been hurt by everything that happened between her and Matt lifted at the honesty in Adam’s tone. Still, as amazing as it was to have him, just thinking of Matt threatened to spread a crack across the dam that held back thoughts she couldn’t afford to let loose while Adam was here. As sure as she was that she and Matt were over, Adam was still his friend and was in his life. Regardless of her relationship with Matt, Adam still had one with him, and they’d complicated that by being together.

Why did the man who spoke to her heart in ways she’d never experienced have to be so close to the man she’d fallen in love with? Why couldn’t he have been some stranger she could run away with and not have to face any problems or think of all the ways she could have handled the situation better?

“You already paid the registry fees and trucked Dolly here,” she said with a smile she didn’t quite feel, but hoped he’d buy. “Go to your rodeo, we can pick another weekend to get together.” Then, she added, “Besides, I want to spend time bonding with my new horse.”

At that, Adam smiled. “Alright, alright.” His thumb gently massaged her hip and he bent to place a sweet kiss on her lips, then again on her forehead. He was full of sweet, sentimental touches. It was as if he had to make up for every moment he wasn’t able to offer romantic affection those months and months they hadn’t gotten to be with one another. Was he making up for lost time? Or could he simply not help but keep reaching for her while she was there in arm’s reach?

“The water’s probably warm enough now,” she murmured, still stuck in the warmth in his soft, green eyes.

“C’mon then darlin’,” he sighed and pulled his arms off of her so she could turn around and step into the shower. “Let’s get cleaned up, put the horses up and get something to eat.”

“Mm, that sounds like a perfect idea,” she agreed as the warm jets of water hit her and began to take the dirt and sweat off her body.

They wouldn’t have much time that evening to spend together. Adam needed to leave before the crack of dawn in order to get to the grounds with enough time to register, unload Dolly in the pens and check which bronc he’d be riding and then prepare accordingly. The way the pair of them functioned together honestly astonished Hazel somewhat. They were in such tandem, it felt like this was the hundredth time Adam had stayed the evening with her at her house.

After dinner they cuddled up on the couch with what little time they had, Carson and Callahan lying in their beds and the television on low on a repeat of a show neither of them were paying much mind to. Instead, Hazel and Adam had taken to giggling and talking among each other, teasing each other as they flowed with ease from topic to topic, avoiding anything too deep or painful and simply enjoying one another’s company. Hazel remembered how Adam had told her it was like she was able to say the things he was thinking before he said them and early on, she realized she felt the same way about him. It was like something in their minds just… clicked.

Like they were always meant to be. They had that inexplicable bond. That once in a lifetime sort of thing that couldn’t be forced. It just was.

Eventually as the night wound down she was lying on his chest, dozing softly off to sleep. On the coffee table a phone started to vibrate with an incoming call. Her phone, in fact, lying face down. It gently moved as the vibrations disturbed it from where it sat.

“You’re getting a call, darlin’.” His soft voice gently ushered. He ran a wide palm up and down her arm to rouse her from falling asleep.

“Mmm,” she sank deeper and kept her eyes shut. It was too warm and peaceful here in his arms to pull herself free. “If it’s important they’ll leave a message.”

He chuckled and she felt it rumble in his chest.

“Well, let’s at least head off to bed then. I have to be up in…” he groaned as he reached to get his phone and check the time, “Ugh. Four hours.”

She made a small noise of complaint that she’d have to move, but let him gently encourage her upward so he could slip out from under her. He leaned in and pulled her up to her feet, reaching to grab her phone and setting it in her hand. Hazel grabbed it as she rubbed her eyes and yawned, clicking the power off on the television and stumbling toward the bedroom. Callahan and Carson hopped up to follow, tails wagging, clearly happy it was bedtime.

Adam flipped her comforters back as they went into the room and only once she was securely snuggled up, phone set face-down on the nightstand nearby did he begin flicking off lights and making a careful path toward the other side of the bed. Carson and Callahan jumped shamelessly up and curled in tight little balls at the end of the bed, warming her feet. She thought of shooing them to their beds on the floor, but Adam babytalked them as he got into bed and leaned to give them both scratches behind the ear as he told them goodnight and finally slipped in beside her. It made her smile and then his warm arm came around her waist and he slid her across the bed toward him.

“Goodnight Hazel,” he whispered against her ear, placing another kiss tenderly on her temple. Hazel hoped that soft, loving touch stayed through her dreams to encourage the very kindest of them and that she’d still feel it when she awoke the next morning.

Hours later - though she wasn’t entirely aware of the time - she was stirred awake by Adam’s soft voice. He wasn’t even in bed with her anymore, but standing bedside, bent over and gently brushing her hair out of her face as he talked to her in hushed tones.

“I have to get going.” Regret colored his tone and through the mental fog brought on by sleep, she barely managed to make a soft, disagreeing groan. It made him chuckle and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. He stayed near enough that she could feel his next breaths warm across her face. “I know, I know. I wish I didn’t need to go either. I’ll call you when I get to the rodeo grounds.”

“Mmkay,” Hazel agreed sleepily, and then groaned. “Daisy needs breakfast…” It was only four in the morning and she could probably wait for a few more hours, but if Adam was going to be taking Dolly out of the stable a flake of hay to keep Daisy distracted at being alone might be kind of nice.

“You just stay sleeping,” Adam hushed her and tucked her in a little more under the blankets, giving her shoulder a soft rub. “I’ll see that Daisy has food and her water bucket is cleaned out before I take off, okay?”

“Mm… mhm.” Her eyelids were already closing despite wanting to keep them open to look at what she could see of him in the dark pre-dawn light of her room.

“Alright,” he laughed and kissed her forehead again. “I’ll call you later darlin’.”

“Mmkay…” she mumbled again into her pillow. “Be safe.”

“I will, promise.”

She listened to the sound of his boots fading away down the hall, then the door jingle before it softly shut and then silence. She meant to listen to every single sound she could catch, even the far away ones out the window. She wanted to hear clear up to the rumble of the truck starting and the sound of tires on gravel, but before she knew it she was already drifting back to sleep. The sheets still smelled like him and she wrapped her arms around the pillow he’d been using and tucked it in close to her body, pressing her face into it and feeling the way her body relaxed with the next breath she took before sleep had her again.

When she awoke she felt confused. “Adam?” She muttered groggily, inhaling and smelling him before she cracked her eyelids open and looked down at the pillow she was still holding on to. She frowned, reaching to rub the sleep from her eyes before the hushed morning came back to her of Adam getting dressed as quietly as he could and giving her a quick goodbye kiss. A smile melted across her lips, thinking of the evening they’d shared. It wasn’t even the sex she thought of first - though that was certainly worth remembering - but the hours after when they’d just shared each other’s company. Even when they hadn’t been talking, Hazel had felt so complete with him.

She shook her head and laughed breathlessly. How long had it been since she’d felt that open with another man? Matt… She sucked in her breath and opened her eyes a little wider. 

She felt open with Matt and comfortable with him, and when he was with her she felt warm and safe and cared for. But those were the good times, not all these painful conversations and lack thereof that had followed. No, the times she was soft and honest with him and he was with her were what she missed. Or when they could be in-person together, or those late night calls where neither of them wanted to hang up and they just started talking about everything and anything, swapping stories and growing closer. Those days the cocky front of Matt Jackson, Rodeo Champion, slipped away and she saw the gentle, caring, sensitive man underneath. Her heart ached swiftly enough that she felt the need to catch her breath. She missed those phone calls. She missed Matt.

Tears stung in her eyes and she cleared her throat and blinked them away. What right did she have to cry? How could she lie here and miss Matt when Adam had been a warm body in her bed not three hours prior?

Rolling over she reached toward her nightstand to grab her phone, turning it over so the screen would light up and show her what time it was. Notification banners for things she’d missed - mainly social media mentions - popped up, as did one for a missed call. She’d nearly forgotten late last night when she’d been just about to fall asleep on Adam that he’d said she was getting a call.

Missed Call: Matt 💗

Her heart sank and she nearly dropped her phone.

New Voicemail: Matt 💗

Hazel stared at the little red bubble indicating the missed message. Every piece of wonderful paradise the last twenty-four hours had been evaporated almost immediately, taken over by guilt. Was he calling to apologize while she was wrapped up peacefully in the arms of one of his closest friends? Attempting to stop her anxious spiral of thoughts, she realized she could be overthinking. The call could be Matt telling her it was time they talked, that he’d taken the week to think about what they’d said and had decided she was right, he just wasn’t ever going to be ready for a relationship. It could be him deciding they needed to give each other a proper goodbye instead of ghosting each other.

Tears burned in her eyes and she told herself again that she had no right to them or to the way her heart felt like it was being slowly, painfully squeezed. She’d spent the night before with her legs wrapped around one of his closest friends, moaning as he filled her with his cum. How could she now be heartbroken over the thought of Matt calling to tell her they should talk and end it all?

But what if… what if he was calling to apologize? What if he was calling to tell her he’d taken the week to think about it and realized he was being foolish and she was right and there was no reason they shouldn’t be in a relationship now?

There was only going to be one way to know what Matt had been wanting to say. 

She looked at the unplayed message, still looking up at her with it’s little red bubble. Her finger hovered over to bring the voicemail screen up where she could begin to play it and found she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hit play. Not when every breath still drug touches of Adam into her lungs and she could hear his moans fresh in her ears.

**********

“Hey, Adam! When did you get in?” Nick’s voice carried over the crowd as Adam stopped in step, turning to glance over his shoulder as he watched his friend’s approach. He turned to face him and shrugged.

“A little after eleven. I hit the registry table and got caught up talking with Kenny. Haven’t even unloaded Dolly yet.”

“Well that’s good news,” Nick smiled his characteristic large, happy, easy-going grin. He was wearing a dark brown carhartt jacket over his button-up and it reminded Adam he wanted to go back to his truck to grab his. The days were getting chillier and chillier the closer to the winter months they drew.

“Why’s it good news?”

“We kept one of the pens clear by our boys so Dolly would have familiar company. Matt’s been sitting on the fence this morning keeping anyone else from claiming it.”

“I appreciate that.” Adam said with a grin, though he had to fight to keep it through a sudden surge of discomfort that crawled through him at the mention of Matt. He immediately thought of Hazel.

“It’s no problem. I’ll show you where we’re at so you can bring Dolly over. Come on.”

Adam and Nick fell in step beside one another.

“It’s been good for Matt to have something to keep his mind occupied anyways. He’s been getting into conversations with anyone who stops by to see if the pen is clear or not.”

“Oh?” Adam said idly. In truth he didn’t want to know why Matt needed to keep his mind occupied. He had a sneaking suspicion he at least knew somewhat what it might be about.

“Yeah.” Nick said, and there seemed something briefly heavy in the sigh that followed. “But we’re right over here.” He pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket and waved over to where his and Matt’s roping geldings were lounging in one of the temporarily set-up white pipe-fence pens. Beside them was another one, empty and ready for Adam’s mare.

“Hey, Matt, look who I found wandering around the parking lot.” Nick called out as he leaned up against the gate. Immediately his gelding shuffled close, pressing its muzzle into his jacket and whuffing big, warm breaths that made the man giggle. Nick scratched the horse's forehead, ruffling its mane. Adam looked from Nick to Matt or, tried to, but found it was actually hard for him to look at Matt.

His lips pulled in a thin smile he hoped still looked polite and he glanced away. He tried not to notice how troubled Matt’s face looked before he smiled and nodded.

“Morning, Adam. Glad you got here safe.”

“Thanks,” he said and glanced at his boots. “I uh, better go get Dolly.” He said with another tight grin to Nick, hoping no one picked up on how badly he suddenly needed to get away.

As he made for where he’d parked the trailer he found himself getting angry for feeling guilty. Matt never had any trouble with women for as long as Adam had known him. Every rodeo they pulled into it seemed Matt had some pretty little thing hanging off of him and giggling by the end of the night. Adam could be just as lucky too, but all those cute girls with their pretty smiles and admiring stares never really caught his attention. They made him feel nervous and oftentimes the attraction felt empty. 

Then came Hazel, the first woman to make him actually care about something other than his career. Why did Matt have to have eyes for her to? She was beautiful, sure, but she was so much more than that. It wasn’t fair that Matt got to hold on to her like she was something he’d cherish when he got to have any girl he wanted with ease. Plus, he clearly wasn’t doing a good job taking care of her. Adam had felt the way she clung hard onto him when he’d first showed up at her house. And if the tables had been turned and Hazel had asked him if they could date he never would have bookmarked that conversation for later. 

Because the moment Adam had looked in her eyes he’d seen the eyes their future kids would have. The first time their lips had touched he’d sworn he’d heard church bells and the cheers of their loved ones filling the church he married her in.

Adam was sure if he could get Hazel to see how deep their connection was by the time Matt and her talked after the NFR she’d be more in love with him and would tell Matt they wouldn’t work. It was a shitty plan and a shitty thing to do as Matt’s so-called friend, but Adam’s loneliness had made him into something he wasn’t entirely proud of. So be it. He was tired of letting life pass him up because he wanted to do the right thing. No one else seemed to be so worried about doing what was right and they were getting what they wanted. It was finally time for Adam to get what he wanted.

Yet here he was, suffering guilt he hadn’t foreseen. Adam sucked hard at the back of his teeth as he popped the trailer door, carefully unloading Dolly. He rubbed her neck and sighed, deciding he’d do his best to put it all out of his mind that weekend and not act on it. He’d already texted Hazel early on to let her know he’d gotten there safely, and smiled when he got her message back telling him good luck and she’d be watching the live feed of his ride later on.

“That’s what I’ll focus on, eh girl?” He asked Dolly as they made their way toward the pens, her shod hooves gently clipping the dirt and gravel parking lot. Instead of spending his day worrying about how Matt would feel if he found out Adam had slept with Hazel, he’d think about her behind one of the few cameras pointed at the ring. He’d think about her sitting on her couch, cheering him on with her dogs getting hyper at her yelling and starting up a good-natured ruckus.

It made him smile just picturing it.

**********

The rodeo weekend turned out to be a moderate success. He and Nick had run well enough to maintain their leadership spot heading into the NFR, though he’d been distracted and hadn’t done what he knew to be his best. This would be one of the nights he would have talked down about his run just to listen to his friends encourage him with everything he’d done right, or even take their advice if they noticed what he’d missed. He’d refuse to tell them it was because he was preoccupied, but he knew he didn’t need to tell his brother that. After their first run had been less than fluid, Nick’s only words to Matt had been: She hasn’t called yet?

And Matt had felt like he was letting Nick down by having his personal life affect their scores. Still, it wasn’t as if he could help himself. Every waking second was full of Hazel. It was almost torture. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes in the crowd and felt his heart leap and sink all at the same time as he whipped his head to see if he could catch her, only to realize it was someone who just vaguely resembled her.

It’d been wrong to wait an entire week to contact her, but he’d been… Well… He’d been scared. He’d never felt the way he felt for another woman like he did Hazel. He liked women, but not enough to let them take any place in his life beside the rodeo. With Hazel? He was actually considering it. Hell, the way she occupied his mind that weekend she might as well have been there sharing the days with him. 

He’d thought of calling her all week, but the more time passed that she didn’t call him left him wondering if he was making a mistake. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she said he was already hurting her, and how awful that made him feel to know. He didn’t like hurting the people he cared about - the people he loved - even if he hadn’t meant to do so. Maybe her not calling him was supposed to be his hint that she was over what they’d been doing? Maybe it was too late? Maybe he’d already lost her...

But two days ago, late Friday night, he’d finally got up the courage to call her. He’d missed her, and as his heart pounded in his throat and his body felt shaky he listened to the call ring and ring and ring… then click over to voicemail.

When she hadn’t called back right away he assumed she was already asleep and he’d hear from her the next day. Saturday stretched on and on, every time his phone buzzed he jumped thinking it was her, only to feel his heart sink when it wasn’t. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.

By the end of the second day his patience was worn thin. Hurt was quickly turning to anger, especially when he was so adapted to pushing away these feelings in the first place. She wasn’t even going to call him just to tell him she didn’t want to see him anymore? After all they’d been through? This was why he didn’t date. This was why he didn’t let anything go beyond a night with a pretty girl at a rodeo. This was all the stuff he didn’t want to take his focus away from what was important. This was why he let himself have fun and kissed the women who fawned over him after the show, but didn’t bother to keep their names in his phone.

The fact that his and Nick’s runs had been subpar just proved all those points he’d been telling himself all along. He really didn’t need this kind of bullshit.

Not even a text message?

Neurotic, he did what he’d been doing all weekend and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, clicking his and Hazel���s last text messages, seeing they were still the old message, then over to the call log to see he still hadn’t missed any calls from her. Still nothing. 

“Hey there, handsome.”

He frowned at the screen, not hearing the voice that’d been practically right in front of him.

“Hellooo?”

His brown eyes jumped over the top of his phone and down at the cute little cowgirl standing in front of him. She had short brown hair tucked under her cowgirl hat and pretty blue-green eyes that glimmered up at him. If his mind wasn’t so preoccupied by Hazel, he might’ve immediately realized that this girl was damn gorgeous and she was looking up at him with a look he knew all too well.

“Sorry,” he laughed dryly and clicked his phone screen back to black, shoving it into his jeans.

“Expecting a call?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Y-” He cleared his throat. “No.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes like she was trying to decide if she believed him or not. “You sure you’re not waiting on a call? Maybe from a wife or- well… -” His fingers tingled as she gently grasped his hand and turned it, seeing no ring. “A girlfriend?”

She was bold, he’d give her that.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The words almost hurt to get out when they used to be so smooth to say.

“Really?” She asked, half surprised, half pleased. “Hard to believe a handsome cowboy like you is single. I saw how good you handled that rope earlier…” She’d gently stroked her finger over the back of his right hand she’d been holding. She gave it a little squeeze before she let it go, a small curl of the edge of her lips speaking to a kind of mischief he was usually all too eager to pursue.

“That’s nothing,” he laughed dryly, “That wasn’t my best performance. You should see how good I normally am.” A little bitter sting at his runs this weekend. He knew he was better than that.

“Oh?” She leaned in a little and he could smell her. Vanilla. Sunshine, despite the fact that it was late Sunday night and there were stars twinkling in the sky above. Nothing like Hazel’s warm caramel coffee and fresh baked goods, which he attributed her smelling like because of her coffee shop. He felt a pang of sadness that the woman hanging on his front didn’t smell like Hazel, then decided that was better and took a deeper breath. The more of her he breathed in, the less of Hazel he’d remember.

That’s what he needed right now. This. To remember who he was and why he did this - slept with pretty women at rodeos and didn’t get attached to them - instead of dating. They didn’t know one another, but he felt like the woman he was talking to understood exactly what she was getting into. Or maybe he just wanted to tell himself that so he didn’t feel guilty about what he was going to do next.

Matt turned his hand so he could hold hers instead of her holding his, then he ran his touch up her arm and slipped his warm, calloused palm on her round cheek. He tilted her face toward his and gave her a smile he knew made most girls weak in the knees.

“What’s your name?” The pad of his thumb skimmed her lower lip and his mouth broke gently apart as his eyes fell to trace the touch. She had the prettiest lips… 

“Josie.” She murmured, his thumb staying with the movement.

“Josie,” he repeated, and his smile deepened. “That’s pretty.”

It was getting easier and easier to forget his pain… or so he kept telling himself. Matt leaned in and slipped his thumb away, holding her face as his lips brushed hers. Guilt twisted in his stomach as, behind his closed eyelids, he suddenly saw Hazel’s face and it felt strange, not tasting Hazel as he kissed this woman he didn’t know.

But she leaned up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to pull him down closer and their mouths opened, tongues slipping along each other’s and he remembered to stop thinking about Hazel. He kissed Josie harder, dropping his hand to her hip and pulling her tighter against his body. He liked to feel it bounce off his. Surely the more and more turned on he got the more he’d stop thinking about Hazel anyways. He needed to. Hazel had clearly forgotten about him so he needed to forget about her.

She had probably spent the last week with that other guy she’d met. That's why she hadn’t called him back. She was already off with someone else who could be there for her. His fear had become reality.

Matt’s fingers squeezed tighter on Josie’s hips and her excited squeal melted warm in his mouth. A hiss of a laugh out of his nose and he turned them around, flattening her back on the fencepost as he bent his head and kissed her closer. He had to be kissing her hard enough that the coarse hair of his beard was scratching her skin. Her hat had been knocked back and off at their feet, but neither seemed to want to stop long enough to grab it. Matt’s hands slipped from around her hips and dug into the fat of her ass, pressing her even closer to his front. He grunted as she rubbed her leg on his thigh.

“What the fuck is this?” A sudden voice threw ice water over the heat that was stirring up between them.

Matt leaped off her as though touching her burned his hands, turning with wild eyes to see Adam having come around the corner and stopping short, staring at them both. His eyes left Josie and focused on Matt. Why did he look so angry?

“Mind your own business Adam, what the hell do you think this is?” Matt growled and made a conscious decision to step closer to Josie. He didn’t want her to think she’d done anything wrong, so he put a hand back on her hip and pulled her close to him.

“You’re…” Adam shook his head and laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“I’m what?” Now he slipped away from holding onto Josie, turning toward his friend with a frown digging hard across his brow. All the emotions stirred up inside him were leading him somewhere he knew he shouldn’t be. It was like a runaway train and he was helpless to stop it. “Finish your fucking sentence if you’re going to bother interrupting me.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” Adam glanced at the woman next to him, then back at Matt. “What about Hazel?”

“What about Hazel, Adam?” Matt scoffed and took a step toward him. “Where do you get off commenting on my relationship? You don’t even know Hazel, and whatever is going on between her and I is between her and I, you understand?”

They’d drawn in close enough that they were nearly standing nose to nose. Matt had never seen Adam this worked up and it made him even angrier to see it. Since when did Adam have any say in Matt’s relationships?

Or maybe it was because everything Adam was saying was a tangible culmination of the guilt he’d been trying to ignore.

Of course, the fact that he’d feel guilt just made him angrier. Hadn’t he said enough when he’d called her? If she’d listened to his voicemail and chosen not to call him that was all the answer he needed. He didn’t need to sit around moping over it. He was a grown adult, Hazel was a grown adult and even though they’d apparently chosen a messy way to end their almost-relationship, it was clearly over.

So again, what gave Adam any right to comment on it? What right did Adam have to be angry with Matt, anyways?

The tense moments crept by in seconds that felt drawn out into minutes.

Adam shook his head and broke eye-contact first, looking down between them as he smiled and sucked at the back of his teeth. “Whatever, Matt.” He turned and walked away and Matt let him, even though his fist was curled at his side and some rage-fueled part of his brain told him it would have felt good to hit Adam for that look. For trying to make him feel guilty for something he didn’t know or understand.

The quiet permeated the small area as Adam left and Matt half expected when he turned around he’d find Josie had made her exit, deciding her attempt to get a hook-up with him wasn’t worth all this personal drama. He couldn’t blame her, really.

“So, who’s Hazel?”

He was surprised when she spoke up, though his shoulders tensed.

“She’s…” he turned and looked at Josie, who had her brow cocked as she looked at him. At some point she’d bent to pick her hat up and dusted it off before setting it back on her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is.” He tried not to pay attention to the little sting on his heart to say it. “She’s not here.”

“I am.” Josie said boldly with a smile, drawing in closer to him.

“Yeah.” Matt turned to face her fully again and put the anger in Adam’s eyes out of his mind along with all the uncertainties and emotions that came with thinking about Hazel. “You are.”

He leaned down and put his mouth back on hers, deciding he was ready to just forget everything and go back to his old ways. It may not have given him the wholeness he’d felt with Hazel, but it hadn’t given him this kind of pain, either.

**********

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Have you listened to it yet?

Hazel read the message on her phone after tugging it from her jeans. She’d just untacked and cooled Daisy down from their ride, giving her a good rub down before she turned her loose in the arena. Hazel bit at her lip and replied.

TEXT TO: Rosie

Not yet…

She knew she needed to. Late Friday evening Matt had called and left a voicemail on her phone which she’d seen Saturday morning after Adam left. She knew she’d needed to listen to it, but every time she clicked her voicemails and prepared herself, she chickened out. She and Adam had talked a little in text and once on the phone, but she hadn’t told him about the missed call. It already seemed wrong enough that Adam knew about her deal with Matt and everything else, but Matt had been kept completely in the dark through the whole thing.

She hadn’t told Adam she’d tuned in to the rodeo’s live stream early enough to catch the tag roping to watch Matt’s runs, either.

Now it was Tuesday afternoon, with the sunset just a few short hours away. Hazel needed to do the adult thing and listen to the message. If it was Matt saying his goodbyes then she needed to accept the reality that was dealt to her that things were really over between them. She and Adam could begin figuring out how they’d eventually be together and maybe, in time, her heart wouldn’t hurt every time she saw or heard from Matt. 

TEXT FROM: Rosie

Babe…

Hazel sighed.

TEXT TO: Rosie

I know, I know.

Rosie had told her days ago to listen to it and had even gone as far as to offer to listen to it for her. Hazel had appreciated it, but she knew she needed to listen to it herself.

She also knew it was wrong of her to have taken this long. She just wasn’t ready to feel the full brunt of the heartbreak she hadn’t anticipated. She hadn’t even meant to fall in love in the first place.

She almost laughed then, realizing that she’d never even told him she was in love with him and now they were probably through.

Hazel drew a breath and leaned on the arena fence, trying not to think about the day she, Matt, his brother and all their friends had all come together to build it. She shook her head and clicked her phone off her text message conversation with Rosie and to her voicemail screen. Right there on top was his unread message, still waiting for her as it had been for days. Hazel clicked it and felt her stomach drop, lifting to hold the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Hazel? It’s Matt. Listen… I…” His voice was heavy. He sighed. “I know our last call didn’t go great and I know me not calling or texting you hasn’t helped. To tell you the truth I’ve been… I’ve been freaked out. I don’t do good when I’m… well, I’m not used to being scared like this. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but Hazel, I care about you more than I’ve cared about someone in - hell - forever. I care about you like I care about Nick, except not like - he’s my brother and you… well. You get it. Look, I know I’m not making much sense and I’m having trouble figuring out what I’m trying to say. I had it all in my head and kept practicing what I wanted to tell you this whole week. The thing is, Hazel, I think there’s a chance I’m…” He trailed off and her heart beat so fast she felt sick. “Well… I know I don’t have any right to keep asking you to hang on, and I know you’re right, there’s no difference if we date now or if we date later but… I want to do this thing right, you know? When we… Hell...if we decided to be more official. I want to be there for you full-time, not when I’m preoccupied with the rodeo season. Does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t… I don’t know. I just… all I know is that I miss you, Hazel, and I can’t stop thinking about our last call. Just… listen… if you still want us to maybe work toward something, give me a call back, alright? I know I’m not perfect and I know I’m pretty terrible at this relationship thing and I know you met someone else and I keep thinking it’s pry better for you to have someone who can take care of you right while I keep making all these mistakes but… damnit, Hazel.” His voice had gotten tight and she realized he was fighting off tears. “I think I’m… I think I’m falling in love with you and that scares the shit out of me. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t even have to call me back, but I really, really hope you will.”

The message clicked and Matt’s voice was gone.

Hazel took a sharp, shaky breath that tasted like tears. The vision of Dolly standing in the far corner of the arena blurred as more tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks, cold as they slipped and fell one after the other to the dirt below.

[preserving-ferretbrain]

It's Not Easy Being Green

by Dan H

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Dan gets his Minority Warrior freak on, big time~

So here's the deal.

Once upon a time, a heterosexual, white man from Oregon wrote a book dealing with complex issues of race, sexuality, imperialism, slavery and Otherness. Then a heterosexual, white man from Oxford read that book and decided that the heterosexual, white man from Oregon was Doing It Wrong and proceeded to complain about it on the internet.

This is one of those iffy things where I'm trying to defuse my own hypocrisy by drawing attention to it but I do genuinely feel that it's a problem when white people use racism as an excuse to score points off of other white people, or when men use sexism as an excuse to score points off other men (this last being one of my major issues with a lot of later Joss Whedon). This of course creates a bit of a paradox (paradox (n): convenient excuse for behaving like an inconsistent jackass) because you can't say “this guy is trying to use sexism to score points off other men” without doing the exact same thing yourself.

So umm ... yeah, that's what this article is going to be about. It's going to be me trying to score points off a guy called Jay Lake by complaining about the fact that he's trying to score points off me, while criticising his work as being skeevy on a variety of levels.

For what it's worth, part of the skeeviness in Green involves a certain amount of discussion of rape so: trigger warning.

Also spoiler warning, but you should expect that by now.

Where to begin:

Reverse Racism

One of the many quite positive things to come out of Racefail '09 were some interesting essays/articles/blogposts on the concept of “reverse racism”. Broadly, as far as I can tell, this was a reaction against a lot of discussions along the lines of, well, of the introductory sequence to Everyone's a Little Bit Racist where the white puppet “exposes” how racist the monster puppet is being for not letting him come so their Monster's Support Group. It's the sort of apologist claptrap you get all the time where somebody “insightfully” points out that having – say – an award for Music of Black Origin is racist because you couldn't have an award for Music of White Origin.

On the other hand there's another side to the whole “reverse-*ism” issue which is just as pernicious as the first.

A little while ago I had a trawl through the archives of

Girls Read Comics (and They're Pissed)

and found a post about a guy who had shown up and complained that they felt that female superheroes didn't make sense. But wait, they weren't being sexist, oh no. Because you see the thing is that they thought that women were too sensible and mature to be superheroes. Because you see superheroes are basically just adolescent power fantasies, and isn't it just us silly, silly men who need to dress up in tights and have fun beating up baddies. Aren't women so much betterthan that, with their caring natures and their ability to listen. Needless to say the girls at Girls Read Comics... were not amused.

Green reads a lot like that guy. All the bad guys are men. Most of them are white men. This wouldn't be a problem in itself, and I most certainly am not suggesting that it's “racist against whites” to have the bad guys all be white people. Rather the problem is that the whole book is shot through with some slightly creepy, faintly Victorian attitudes to women and to non-white cultures. Bad guys all white men? Fine. Bad guys all white men because they're the only people that appear to have volition and agency, while everybody else just kind of sits there quietly starving, not fine.

So anyway, I'm six hundred and something words in, and I'm still ploughing through disclaimers, I should probably start actually talking about the book. As always this isn't really a review, it's a response. The rest of this article is basically going to be in four parts. I'm going to take a look at the overall plot, then at the way the book deals with sexuality, then at how it deals with gender, then how it deals with race and the trappings of Empire.

The Story

The story of Green is as follows. Green lives until the age of three in somewhere that is vaguely like India. It isn't spelled out at the time, but she basically lives a life of grinding poverty and desperation. She is sold by her father (her mother and grandmother have both died – this is the start of a long sequence of Green suffering misfortunes because of Men) to a man named Federo, who carries her across the sea to Copper Downs. There she is raised at fantastic expense as a courtesan on behalf of somebody called “The Factor”, while Federo and a catgirl “dancing mistress” train her up to be a kickass ninja assassin.

At the age of twelve she escapes from whore school amidst much angst (there's a lot of angst in the book) but is still recruited by Federo and the Dancing Mistress to take out the immortal Duke who has ruled over Copper Downs for four centuries. This she duly does, before fleeing over the see to Selistan, her homeland.

She returns to Selistan, and finds her father's farm, only to realise that it's a horrible poverty-stricken wreck and that being a slave was probably the best thing that could possibly have happened to her (the “being enslaved and oppressed was the best thing that could happen to these people” theme is a recurring one, and one of my biggest sources of trouble with the book). Then she hangs out on the streets of a big quasi-Indian city, gets recruited by a temple of all-female death-worshippers wherein she has sadomasochistic lesbian sex. Then she gets sent back to Copper Downs to fight a God, where she has more lesbian sex. Then she has sex with a man and gets pregnant. Then she kills a god, and makes her father's ox into a new God of Patience. Then she settles down to raise her kid. The end.

It's three hundred pages long. It feels longer. Which is odd because not much actually happens in it.

Anyway, on to the things that I want to score points over.

Sexuality

Green has a whole lot of lesbian sex. Like a whole lot of lesbian sex. It starts at the temple in Kalimpura, where she leses up with the other initiates and the older “Mothers.”

Couple of things about this.

First off, at the time she is in fact somewhere between the ages of twelve and fourteen. Again, I know that gender reversal isn't always the best way to judge these things (again it comes down to the reverse-ism problem) but for a book that is so preoccupied with notions of sex, slavery, sex slavery and rape it's a tiny bit problematic that it completely glosses over the fact that it's not okay for forty year olds to shag fourteen year olds, even if both parties are women.

Now I know that Green is set in a pre-industrial society. I know that most fourteen year old girls in such a society would already have been married off but guess what: the text is very, very clear about the fact that this is bad. But apparently all these issues of consent, power, society and duty of care evaporate like spit on a soldering iron the moment it's time for a bit of girl-on-girl.

Ages ago I wrote an article about

Nice Guy Syndrome

and pointed out that Nice Guys and a certain variety of feminist-identified-man go to extraordinary lengths to demonise male sexuality. Green only “lies with” one man in the entire book, and he's a priest who normally takes it up the arse:

“You re my first woman.” Something in his voice grew very shy. “My first entry, in truth. I have only been the vessel, not the seed, within the temple rites.”

You later meet his high priest, and he's obviously evil, and gloats about priest-dude's tight arsehole. It's a theme that's repeated throughout the book: penetration is evil, but being penetrated builds virtue through suffering. Green encounters literally no heterosexual men (okay, tell a lie, there's one one-legged cook) who are not either rapists or would-be rapists. The fear of rape is something that dogs Green from the first page of the book to the last and rears its head every time she talks to somebody with a penis (unless that penis has been rendered safe by a good buggering).

Again (you see now why I put that long disclaimer at the start) I'm not claiming that this is “reverse sexism” or “reverse homophobia”. I'm claiming that it is regular sexism and regular homophobia.

Here is Green on the discovery of a gay man aboard a ship:

Love between women I could understand, but men were such careless brutes that I did not see how two of them could love without someone to dampen the blows and soften the curses. This opinion was a legacy of the Factor's house, I now know but some of those habits of thought were years in the erasing.

Two things. Firstly in the Factor's house, Green met literally no men. She was raised and trained entirely by women, many of whom beat her at the slightest provocation, so how she came to those conclusions I have no idea. Secondly that simply isn't a woman's perspective on gay sex. Not even a gay woman's. It's a heterosexual man's opinion, forced uncomfortably into the mouth of a young girl. It's an attitude grounded in the idea that women are the natural objects of sexual desire and men the natural agents of it.

Green has a lot of sex, but she never really has sexual agency. Yes, most of the time when she has sex it's because she chooses to, but what you never get from Green is the sense that she is, for want of a better term, horny. She never actually gives the impression of experiencing sexual desire, of looking at somebody and just plain wanting to fuck them. Much like Inara in FireflyGreen has sex as a kind of benediction. She has sex with the women in the Temple as part of an all-girls-together bonding ritual. She has sex with priest-dude because he, in essence, proves himself worthy by talking to her about mythology (and what gets fantasy writers hotter than their own mythology).

Lake's demonisation of male sexuality and valorisation of lesbianism reaches its height in the confrontation against the Big Bad. The villain has captured Green and the catgirl Dancing Mistress, and is getting ready to cut them both into pieces so that he can reclaim the last shards of the power he needs to become a full on god. How do Green and the Dancing Mistress get out of this situation? Why they les up! And the truly stupid thing is that it works. It works so well that the Big Bad actually stops torturing the two of them to death and – I shit you not - sits down and starts masturbating. Here's how it plays out:

I crawled back up to nuzzle her face. “Oh please,” I moaned, “kiss my thighs.” My voice would have had the Lily Blades falling out with laughter, but Federo just echoed the moan. He was the rankest of boys. Facing Federo as I sprawled on the floor, I ran my tongue across my lips. Mistress Cherlise had shown me a number of such little bits of playacting that would arrest a man's attention. The Dancing Mistress gripped my thighs hard and kissed me back and forth along the inner line of each leg, working down towards my knees. When she reset her grip to my calves and eased herself further away I nearly shrieked. Instead I rolled slightly to my left so Federo could see my right breast. He wasn't looking any more. His eyes were closed, his back arched in his chair as he stroked himself very hard. Outside, thunder rolled almost continuously.

If this was just stupid, I'd let it go. But it's not just stupid, it's stupid and it's sexist. And just to be very clear, to say for the third time something I am sure I will say again, I don't mean that it's “reverse sexist” or “sexist against men” I mean it's sexist. It's an offensive, patriarchal stereotype which harms women far more than it harms men.

The attitude expressed in the passage above, and repeated throughout the whole of the book, is that male sexuality is intrinsically corrupt, fundamentally violent, and ultimately controlled by women. While men (white men at least) are morally responsible for all of the evils in Green the practical responsibility lies always with women. When Green returns to Copper Downs, it is revealed that after she killed the Duke, the Factor's house where she was trained was destroyed, the remaining Mistresses killed, and the girls who were kept there raped to death. And who was responsible for the girls being raped to death? Why they were of course! Once the Duke was dead, there was nobody to restrain the guards, and so they did what all men will naturally do when faced with beautiful women, they raped them until they died. “Because of their beauty” as Green herself puts it.

This is a world of not okay. Yes, the novel is written in the first person, and Green's perceptions are likely to have been shaped by her extremely fucked up upbringing (although if that was the case, you'd expect her to be more comfortable with the notion of being sold into slavery, since it was all she had known) but the text routinely operates from the assumption that men are Slaves to Their Lusts, that when faced with a hot woman, men will completely lose their reason and cease to be responsible for their actions (if you want an example, scroll back up and read the boss-fight-wanking-scene again, is that the description of a man who is in control of himself?). Green's attitudes are not deconstructed or shown to be false or harmful, quite the opposite. By the end of the book, Green is assumed to be in possession of a true and accurate understanding of the truth about men and women, at least as Lake sees it.

This is wrong. Rape is not some kind of natural disaster, something that just happens like a hurricane or an earthquake. It is not an occupational hazard of having a vagina, and it most certainly is not a fucking compliment (“because of their beauty” my arse). By the same token, lesbian sex is real sex, and lesbian sexual abuse is real sexual abuse. An institution in which forty year old women fuck thirteen year old girls is exactly as abusive as one in which the forty-year-olds are men.

Gender

I've touched on this already, but I'll just go over the basics again.

Men = bad people who have nasty things like ambitions and desires and sexual appetites.

Women = good people who have nice things like patience and wisdom and did I mention patience?

Again, I should come clean here and mention that the reason I'm so profoundly sensitive to this kind of thing is that I really do appreciate the temptation of this line of thinking. It's amazingly comforting as a man to bury your sexist, patronising bullshit under layer upon layer of “well really, I think women are superior to men” but sexist, patronising bullshit it remains.

Green (the novel) is preoccupied with Women. Green (the character) is preoccupied with Women as well. Unfortunately neither the novel nor the character are actually interested in women. For the benefit of those who don't have the patience for my smug games with capitalisation, the distinction I'm alluding to is between “Women” with a capital “W” - a broad impersonal concept chiefly designed to allow men to score points off of other men – versus women with a small w, actual people with names and personalities. Again this is something I've been guilty of myself, allowing my very real concern for the way that Men treat Women to blind me to the way I personally was treating actual people.

Green is obsessed with women, and in a peculiarly self-conscious way. She habitually uses the word “woman” to mean “people in general” (and even more peculiarly, sometimes uses “girl-child” to mean “children in general”). Now in all seriousness I do get that there are issues with using specifically masculine pronouns to describe people-in-general, but Green was born in one patriarchal society, and raised in another, where did she pick up the habit of using feminine pronouns?

Similarly she spends the entire book talking, talking, talking about how badly she wants to protect Women and children and did I mention Women. The problem is that she never actually does anything about it. Now I know she's only fifteen by the time the book finishes, but we spend the entire book being told how utterly precocious and omnicompetent she is and you can't have it both ways. Either it's a book about a powerful, independent woman who triumphs in the face of the horrors she faces, or it's about a broken woman who is destroyed by the people who enslave her and remade into their image. If she's as awesome as everybody says she is, she should damned well do something about those injustices instead of just talking about them.

It doesn't help that while Green goes on and on and on about Women and Girls, there isn't a single woman or girl she actually displays any compassion for or indeed interest in. Green as a character is relentlessly self-absorbed. One gets the impression that we are supposed to take the mere fact of her being a woman as evidence of virtue.

This is, in itself, mildly irritating, but it's so all pervasive in the text that it goes beyond “irritating” into “faintly skeevy”. Green (the novel) consistently refuses to allow women to be responsible for their own actions. Green herself never actually makes a decision, she gets bought at the age of three, and is then controlled entirely by the Factor, then by Federo and the Dancing Mistress, then by the Lily Goddess. Worse, she makes up for this by beating herself up about things that she has no control over whatsoever (like the aforesaid raping to death of the girls in the Factor's house). It all contributes to a worldview in which women are seen as incapable of acting for themselves, or controlling their own destinies. Even when female characters do things which are genuinely morally repugnant (violently beating a twelve year old girl, engaging in sexual activity with minors in their care) those things are either assumed to be acceptable (see “sex, lesbian”) or blamed on Men (see “beatings, violent”). Even Green's decision to cut up her own face is explicitly taken away from her and given to the nebulous They.

Basically Lake is so fixated on making the book about Women, Women, Women that he completely forgets to include any well-realised, sympathetic female characters.

Green (the book) is full of Goddess imagery. There are constant references to the obligatory maiden, mother and crone, and it is I think deliberate that Green starts the book as a child and ends it as a mother. Similarly virtually all of the female characters fit somewhere into the Triune – often explicitly, such as in the Lily Temple where the initiates specifically progress to being “Mothers”. Of course the problem with this is that it essentially reduces all women everywhere to three archetypes, and worse because it romanticises those archetypes it fails to recognise how limiting and constricting they are. It puts women in a box, then puts the box on a pedestal.

Race and Empire

This is the difficult bit. As ever there's nothing more dangerous than invoking the spectre of (whisper it) racism.

Once more I should say very, very clearly that I'm not actually calling Jay Lake a racist. He did sit down and write a book about a pseudo-south-Asian protagonist (although she is, of course, white on the cover) and much as I like to complain, the pseudo-Indian city of Kalimpura has as much imagination invested in it as Copper Downs. The book deals with some extremely complex, extremely sensitive issues, and if I were feeling like less of an asshole I'd probably give it some major points for trying. But I'm not, so I won't.

Green deals with some extremely complicated issues such as slavery, abuse, imperialism, and human trafficking (much like Dollhouse in fact). One of the most difficult things to deal with when handling the subject of abuse is the extent to which an abuse survivor is shaped by their experiences, the extent to which they – to use a loaded term – owe who they are to the events that shaped them. Post-imperial or post-colonial cultures have a similarly difficult relationship with their past, an occupying force brings stability and infrastructure and the removal of that infrastructure frequently causes as much trouble as the imposition of it. When a great injustice occurs – either to an individual or to a people – it can sometimes be hard to tell how much of what follows is because of that injustice, and how much is in spite of it.

Green beings the book being sold into slavery by her father. She observes, early on, that the food she is given by Federo is better than any meal she has had in her entire life. This itself isn't a problem. It's entirely reasonable that the food available to a rich human trafficker will be higher quality and more abundant than the food available to a subsistence-level rice farmer. To begin with, the issue of contrast between her old life and her new life is handled with sensitivity, Green seems genuinely conflicted about the fact that she is, in many ways, better off in Copper Downs. This feels believable and relatively respectful to Green, her culture, and her circumstances. She obviously feels a lot of guilt about finding some aspects of Copper Downs better than her old life, and the things she prefers are basically issues of material comfort.

It gets worse, considerably worse, when she returns to her home. Suddenly Copper Downs goes from being not merely more affluent than her homeland but objectively better. Green states, quite clearly, that:

My captors had been right. Rather I should have been on my knees thanking the Factor for what he had taken me from.

Now I know that this is partly Green giving in to despair, but nothing in the text challenges this conclusion. It's rather an object lesson in the dangers of taking on too many genre stereotypes at once.

Had this been the story of a white man who was taken away from his pseudo-European farming village and conscripted into the armies of the Dark Lord of Evil then I would have been overjoyed to find him returning home to realise that his long lost homeland was a poverty stricken shithole and his father was a bastard who never cared about him. It would challenge the assumptions of a genre that frequently glamourises poverty, and it wouldn't have any creepy overtones (unless you want to make a big thing about militarism).

Make the white man a south-Asian woman, however, and you start getting into difficulties, because now you're not saying “being poor sucks” you're saying “being foreign sucks”. Turn conscription into slavery and you're not saying “you might be better off in the army than on a farm” you're saying “you might be better off as a slave in Europe than as a free man in your own country.” Add in the courtesan angle and you're saying “it is a good thing for south-Asian women to be sold as sex slaves to European men.”

I hope I don't need to point out that this really isn't okay.

Green (the book) takes another hop, step and jump closer to a pit of utter fail when Green (the character) notices that her father's Ox – an image she clung to from childhood – has grown old in her absence:

He was a beast too, of course. Though somehow less animal than Papa, now.

That's right folks, the book directly compares poor people from hot countries to animals(compares them unfavourably to animals, in fact). Now to be fair her father has gone mad by this point (mostly it seems in order to conveniently prevent Green from finding out her birth name) but that only makes it ablist as well as racist. Sorry, I mean “possible to interpret as racist” because while comparing brown people to animals is dodgy, suggesting that a white man might be prejudiced is unforgivable.

The fucked up imperialist dogma actually reaches its peak, however, with the treatment of the “pardines” - the race of cat-people of whom Green's Dancing Mistress is one (the pardines do not tell their names to outsiders, much like the jellyfish dudes in Mass Effect). Now an early plot point in Green is that the power which allowed the Duke to maintain his immortality had been stolen from the pardines, much to the detriment of their people.

At the end of the book, Green confronts the ghost of the Duke (who was also the Factor, by the way) and he explains to her that actually stealing the power of the pardines was the right thing to do:

“Your crime,” I growled, “was to strip power from a peaceful people and bind it to yourself.” “How peaceful were those people?” Now his face flared with passion to match my own. “Do you know of the last war this city did fight? Under me, as a living man? We battled the pardines. In their time they were terrible hunters and raiders. Others followed them, thinking by their appearance that they were wise and powerful. The shared path they have instead of souls lent them a strength in this world that could not be matched. Over a thousand men were lost wrestling them down. I took what they used to wreak the death of farmers and children and traders, stripped it from them, and made peace for Copper Downs. I even made peace for them.”

Now as the subjective self-justification of the ghost of a tyrant, this is all well and good, but the problem is that it isn't. It's a pure statement of fact. Green accepts it as gospel and – and this is the really weird bit – so does the Dancing Mistress, who had up until that point been specifically trying to recapture the power of her people (as well she might).

Indeed the conversation between Green and the Duke's ghost seems – in the eyes of the text – to objectively redeem the Duke from all possible sins. It is even revealed that Green was being educated as a woman of four centuries past because the Duke was lonely and desired companionship of the sort he remembered from his youth. I get the distinct impression that we are actually supposed to sympathise with this (again this calls to mind Dollhouse and its seeming belief that it's okay to rape somebody if you pretend they're your dead wife). It is, in essence, a plot twist in which it is revealed that the Duke who Green thought was evil in fact is not.

Here is Green's summary of the story of the Duke and his theft of the pardines' collective power, as she relates it to an angry mob who have just torn apart a mad godling:

“Let me tell you a story,” I repeated “about a people who gave up their power long ago. A city man took it from them. Some agreed to this, but not all.” The silence held, I continued: “The man made himself prince of his city. He ruled for generations. There was peace, prosperity, a time of quiet. The gods fell quiet for the power was like a blanket to them. This took the soul of the people, for what are gods if not the sum of everyone who follows them? Choices fell away, as the power cares only for itself. Even so, the bargain was good for most.”

First of all, how the fuck does Green get from “I stripped them of their power and made it my own” to “a people gave up their power, the bargain was good for most”?

Second of all, I'm sorry but that's really fucking offensive.

I have no idea how deliberate this is but what you have here is a relatively modern culture which owes its strength and prosperity to resources that it took by force from the people who had them originally. People who, according to the guys who took those resources in the first place, were basically a bunch of raiders, hunters and savages.

Doesn't that sound rather a lot like the history of America?

Imagine, for a moment, Green standing up and making that speech (substituting, if you wish “land” for “power”) to an audience of Native Americans.

Umm ... pretty fucking offensive, isn't it.

Now I know, I know, I know that this is a fantasy setting, and the pardines are a fantasy race, but in a book which engages so directly and specifically with issues of race and imperialism you cannot avoid drawing parallels with the real world. Green's apologia – substituting “bargains” for conquest and talking about people “giving up” their power - is exactly the sort of historical revisionism that goes on with stories of the American West.

Ironically for a book all about a non-white gay woman, the whole thing is positively dripping with white male privilege. It's fantastically easy to make big speeches about how power is bad and corrupting, and how really people are better off without it, when you're part of the group that already has all the power. It's easy to praise women and non-whites for what you perceive as their superior qualities of patience and endurance, when you haven't had to be patient or endure, because you live in a world where you can get what you want when you want it. It's easy to write about how people should never try to change the way things are when the way things are primarily benefits you and people like you.

And breathe.

Taking a step back, it is possible that Lake is aware of all of these issues, and that the whole book is working on a much more subtle level. It is possible that the extent to which Green internalises the prejudices of her captors is supposed to be her final tragedy. The only way I could ever find this out, however, would be to read the two sequels which Lake is apparently working on and that I most assuredly will not be doing.

In Conclusion

Green engages with a variety of complex themes, but there is a fine line between engagement and apologia.

Earlier I mentioned the Avenue Q song Everyone's a Little Bit Racist. Some people (I know Rami's one of them) are big fans of this song, because it's really important to recognise that racism is pretty much endemic in society, and nobody is entirely free of it. It's also important to break some of the taboos surrounding racism, specifically “accusing” people of racism.

On the other hand, the song puts just slightly too much emphasis on the “racism” of non-whites. The whole thing is started by a white guy as a means to deflect an accusation of racism, and it works.

Green has similar problems. She starts the novel abducted and enslaved by a western imperial power, but the book focuses so much on the negative aspects of the life she would have had otherwise that it winds up justifying, if not glorifying, her initial enslavement. It's the same issue of uneven historical accuracy that leads to so many skeevy gender issues in Fantasy. Because the western imperialist culture is, to an extent, romanticised – we see very little of the grinding poverty that existed in nineteenth-century England for example – and the eastern agrarian culture is not, you wind up with a situation where Green's only protection from marital rape and early death is to be taken as a slave by a more “enlightened” culture.

So yeah, Green. Not something I'd suggest reading. It's ponderously written, pretentious, boring and full of fail.

And Finally...

Fantasy Rape Watch:

Number of Women Raped: Innumerable, possibly “every woman born in Selistan” depending on how you read the text.

Number of Women Raped to Death: Twelve

Proximal Causes of Aforesaid Raping To Death, According to Green, by importance:

Green's Failure to Save Them: 60%

Victims' Own Beauty: 20%

The Nature of Men: 20%

Actual Decisions Made by Rapists, Over Which They Had Ultimate Control and For Which They Bore Ultimate Moral Responsibility: 0%

Number of Times Heroine “Raped”: 0

Number of Times Heroine Engages in Sexual Activity to which She Does Not and Can Not Properly Consent for Reasons of Age and Power But it's Okay Because it's With Other Women: Countless, over the course of several years.

Number of Times Heroine Threatened with Rape: 3

Number of Times Heroine Meets Heterosexual Men other Than Federo: 3

Themes:

Fantasy Rape Watch

,

Books

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

,

Minority Warrior

~

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~Comments (

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)

Wardog

at 10:36 on 2009-11-17I really rather wish I'd had the bollocks to say all this in my SH review but I felt I couldn't accuse a writer of this degree of fail on somebody else's website.

Green was astonishingly terrible book, and I hated and despised it.

Also what's with the cover? Why is she upside down and devoid of trousers?

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Arthur B

at 14:45 on 2009-11-17That looks painful. It's funny how the author, coming from a completely different angle, seems to have ended up portraying a situation remarkably like the

Gor

novels - in which men are violent and brutal and forceful and dominant, and women like it that way because of their intrinsic urge to be enslaved. It's just that John Norman celebrates this idea whereas it seems like Lake is trying to condemn it. In a sort of half-hearted fashion involving porno-style lesbian scenes.

But Dan, surely the inclusion of a catgirl was the warning sign that something was awry? I've never seen fantasy/SF authors use catgirls for anything but suspicious and unsavoury purposes.

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Arthur B

at 14:46 on 2009-11-17Wait, I tell a lie, there's a short story by Gene Wolfe about a man who gets really creeped out by his friend buying a genetically engineered anthropomorphic sex pet. The moral of the story being "Jesus Christ guys, what is it with you and the catgirls? I'm almost ashamed to write in the same genre as some of you."

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Sister Magpie

at 15:55 on 2009-11-17Wow. This book sounds like it could win some kind of award if they gave awards for things like this.

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http://fightsandtights.blogspot.com/

at 16:11 on 2009-11-17Yikes. Sounds like a very uncomfortable read all round. Is it just me, or does it sound like a deranged and sexist rip off of the Assassins of Tamurin? Green certainly sounds like she couldn't hold a candle to Lale Navari, though...

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Rami

at 16:55 on 2009-11-17

Earlier I mentioned the Avenue Q song Everyone's a Little Bit Racist. Some people (I know Rami's one of them) are big fans of this song, ... The whole thing is started by a white guy as a means to deflect an accusation of racism, and it works.

Right at the beginning, Princeton does admit "I'm sorry, I guess that was racist". Which isn't entirely a deflection. But the song does derail the conversation entirely, I will admit. Part of the reason I like it, and like to refer to it, is that it provides a convenient lighthearted reference I can make to defuse privilege-born defensiveness.

you're saying “you might be better off as a slave in Europe than as a free man in your own country.”

Unsurprisingly enough that really gets my back up. If we're reading it generously, I could see it as internalising her oppressors' cultural imperialism, which would be extra-tragic (and not uncommon; hell, I'm guilty of it myself) but that's something that readers are really rather unlikely to see in it IMHO.

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Melissa G.

at 21:03 on 2009-11-17Yikes. Just yikes.

That whole seduction to win the boss fight thing really irks me. First of all, it just seems utterly ridiculous and probably some of the laziest writing I've ever heard of. I can't even take it seriously; it's just comical.

And although I'm a woman, I find it extremely offensive to men to suggest that no matter how determined, focused, etc a man is, if a woman starts touching herself or each other, he'll just fall apart and forget all his plans as his jaw drops open and he just yelps "BOOBIES!". I mean, come on.

I'm sure that my rage is also compounded because I just had a conversation with my friend about "girls (in comics) in refrigerators" and how women are poorly treated in comics and there are a lot of similarities to how this man seems to want to portray women in his book.

Also, and I can't help but to add this as I just received another rejection yesterday, but HOW is sh*t like this published while I am sitting on my ass waiting for rejection after rejection to roll in on my own novel? It's just damn frustrating!

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Melissa G.

at 21:18 on 2009-11-17Excuse the double post, I just thought of something else about the deus ex seduction that bugs me. It also implies that sexuality would be the only possible way for women to win fights against men. Which, yeah, fully pisses me off.

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Rude Cyrus

at 21:21 on 2009-11-17A lot of people have some seriously fucked up trains of logic. What's scary is that many don't realize it.

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Dan H

at 22:24 on 2009-11-17

Unsurprisingly enough that really gets my back up. If we're reading it generously, I could see it as internalising her oppressors' cultural imperialism, which would be extra-tragic (and not uncommon; hell, I'm guilty of it myself) but that's something that readers are really rather unlikely to see in it IMHO.

It's an interpretation I'd considered, and there was always a nagging sense that maybe Lake was making a really subtle point and that I wasn't giving him enough credit. The problem is that I think you consciously have to read it into the text. Part of the problem is that Green is at least in *theory* supposed to be narrating the series from a position of maturity and strength so when she says she "realises" something you don't really have much room to disagree with her.

Which makes it a bit fucked up.

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Dan H

at 22:28 on 2009-11-17

And although I'm a woman, I find it extremely offensive to men to suggest that no matter how determined, focused, etc a man is, if a woman starts touching herself or each other, he'll just fall apart and forget all his plans as his jaw drops open and he just yelps "BOOBIES!". I mean, come on.

It also implies that sexuality would be the only possible way for women to win fights against men. Which, yeah, fully pisses me off.

Yeah, it's one of those nasty bits of sexism that cuts both ways. Although as ever I rather suspect that it's the ladies who come out worst. It basically gives us guys carte blanche to act like douchebags because we totally can't control ourselves.

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Viorica

at 00:13 on 2009-11-18It ties into the "Well, she was wearing a short skirt/walking alone at night/drinking" defence you see in rape cases. It's always something the woman did; the rapist just couldn't help himself.

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Guy

at 02:40 on 2009-11-18I think there's something interesting in the question about sexism/"reverse sexism" and racism/"reverse racism". It makes me think that what's happening is a sort of... reversal of terms that are already based on a set of binaries or polarisations and all that happens is a switching around of the moral weightings or moral judgements that go with them. So if we think of "classic sexism" having an ideology along the lines of "Men are vigorous and active (and this makes them good), while women are docile and passive (and this makes them bad)", then the kind of "revised sexism" (revised rather than reversed) seen here just switches the part in brackets; men are vigorous and active, which makes them bad, &c &c. An adherent of this kind of "revised sexism" may believe that they've overcome their patriarchal prejudices, when actually all that's happened is that that prejudice has taken a different form. I would argue that these kinds of diminishing-identity-constructions are an inevitable consequence of identity-based logic, and that no matter how carefully you work to ideologically perfect such a logic then some form of diminishment or deformation creeps back in... but I suspect that's a topic for another post.

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Dan H

at 11:53 on 2009-11-18

An adherent of this kind of "revised sexism" may believe that they've overcome their patriarchal prejudices, when actually all that's happened is that that prejudice has taken a different form

Pretty much, and the scary thing is it's terrifyingly easy to do.

Although ironically I don't even think there's change in the moral judgments attached. "Classic" sexism doesn't actually say women are *bad* for being docile and passive, quite the reverse - feminine virtues are usually considered extremely important, look at Victorian England - so it's not even "revised" sexism really, it's just sexism repackaged.

The same is true for the race issues. The concept of the noble savage goes back centuries and still exists in one form or another today.

Basically it all falls under the broad heading of "fetishisation of the other" and it's a horrible, horrible minefield.

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Robinson L

at 22:02 on 2009-11-19Wow! And I thought I'd set a pretty high standard for Minority Warrior with my first contribution. Should've known you'd top me, sooner or later. Fantastic article; probably one of your best.

I remember Ptolemaues reading one of Lake's books a year or two ago. I think by the time she reached page 30 he'd already overheated her clichédar. Apparently, she never finished it.

I remember that Girls Read Comics post. One of the earliest ones, I believe. Well done on distilling the logic of that argument.

This tactic of putting Women on a pedestal is actually a long-standing mechanism of patriarchy. Howard Zinn discusses (in a chapter about the oppression of women in the United States after the war of independence) the ideological underpinnings of the double standard in treatment of men who sleep around/have premarital and extra-marital sex and women who do the same.

As Zinn explains, while such sexual behaviors were and are looked down on by the mainstream culture, it was taken for granted that men are base and incapable controlling their own sex drives, so they get a pass on sexual "immorality." Women, on the other hand, are supposed to be made of purer stuff - they're not even supposed to enjoy sex anyway. Thus, when a woman does indulge in "immoral sex" it means she obviously is not a proper Woman, and deserves to be persecuted.

I imagine attitudes were similar in Victorian England, which you've alluded to a couple times now, Dan.

a pseudo-south-Asian protagonist (although she is, of course, white on the cove

Of course.

Melissa G.: Also, and I can't help but to add this as I just received another rejection yesterday, but HOW is sh*t like this published while I am sitting on my ass waiting for rejection after rejection to roll in on my own novel? It's just damn frustrating!

Law of inverse quality to publishing. Think Rowling, Meyer, Salvatore, etc. You can do this, just keep working at it!

Basically it all falls under the broad heading of "fetishisation of the other" and it's a horrible, horrible minefield.

That's fetishisation of the

Other

. And yes, yes it is.

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Wardog

at 23:32 on 2009-11-19I would rather prefer you boys could contain yourselves from quite this degree of wanking self-congratulation over your minority warrioring, a title I bestowed upon Dan in recognition of his sense of self-irony.

This tactic of putting Women on a pedestal is actually a long-standing mechanism of patriarchy

Good heavens, is it really? I'm stunned and appalled.

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Melissa G.

at 23:51 on 2009-11-19"Law of inverse quality to publishing. Think Rowling, Meyer, Salvatore, etc. You can do this, just keep working at it!" (Can't get the quote thing to work 'cause I'm dumb)

Thanks Robinson!! :-)

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Dan H

at 23:54 on 2009-11-19

I would rather prefer you boys could contain yourselves from quite this degree of wanking self-congratulation over your minority warrioring, a title I bestowed upon Dan in recognition of his sense of self-irony.

Umm ... yeah, I was about to say. The title "Minority Warrior" is an ironic one which we use quite specifically to say "we are aware that this actually strays quite close to being fucking patronising". It originally started as a private joke between Kyra and I, we'd be watching Buffy or Angel, and there's be one of those awful bits where Joss Whedon says Something Very Serious About Being Black or A Woman and we'd shout "Fear Not Ladies! I Am Joss Whedon! Minority Warrior!"

I *actually* feel really bad about laying into Green as badly as I did, not because I feel bad about Jay Lake (dude wrote a boring book) but because I feel genuinely uncomfortable getting on my high horse about these sorts of issues because as I say in - in fact - the start of this article, they often stray dangerously close to me using issues of race and gender as an excuse to score points off of other white men.

This is *not* a game of "more feminist than thou". I'm *not* in a competition to see who can spot the most racism. I'm *not* trying to set standards. You might have noticed that in a lot of my posts about race and gender issues, what I tend to say is "these attitudes are very common, and I understand why they are so common because there is an extent to which I share them".

This is a *world* of not about keeping score.

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Arthur B

at 23:58 on 2009-11-19I'm just glad Robinson clarified the capitalisation of "Other".

Clearly an important and relevant aspect of this discussion!

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Robinson L

at 00:30 on 2009-11-20Okay, yes, on reflection that was rather unnecessary and patronizing for this site. My apologies.

My comment about other/Other was intended mostly as a joke, but I can see now that doesn't come across at all, and it's still rather smug. Again, sorry.

@Melissa: it took me a while to figure out as well.

The standard html tag

for quoting is "blockquote," but I usually just use "i" for italics.

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Melissa G.

at 00:31 on 2009-11-20

it took me a while to figure out as well. The standard html tag for quoting is "blockquote," but I usually just use "i" for italics.

I got it! Thanks!

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Wardog

at 09:30 on 2009-11-20Alternatively you could just use the handy 'quote' function. Highlight any text any where on the page and click the 'quote selected text' button in this comment form. Try it today! The handy in-built quote function! 9/10 users recommend it! New from Rami Industries!

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http://oiooo.livejournal.com/

at 10:51 on 2009-11-20Yr cmmnts bt sxsm wld wrk bttr f hdn't jst rd th rtcl whr y cm ff lk th whnst f Slythrfn whl tlkng bt crtn "smg btch".

Editor's Comment: This comment has been disemvowelled. We welcome your comments here at Fb but if you disagree with something please address the article or the comment in question, rather than the style or nature of the writer.

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Dan H

at 11:16 on 2009-11-20For what it's worth I do actually realise that referring to J.K. Rowling as a "smug bitch" is, in fact, rather sexist. I'm afraid that I sometimes allow my sense of rhetoric to override my sense of what is appropriate.

However as the editors have pointed out, this comment is not really pertinent to the article or the arguments presented within it.

I would genuinely be more than happy if you were to leave a comment on the original article pointing out that my use of gendered insults to attack a female writer is not okay because it is, well, absolutely not.

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Melissa G.

at 13:36 on 2009-11-20

Try it today! The handy in-built quote function! 9/10 users recommend it! New from Rami Industries!

mwahaha! Is that how it works? I kept trying to select text that was already in the comment box, haha. Thanks!

And sorry to clutter the comments section with this stuff but I want to say a proper thank you. ^^

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Viorica

at 23:14 on 2010-08-30I thought Jay Lake's name seemed familiar when I read this article, but I couldn't remember where I heard it until I was linked to

this

. Turns out he was

involved

in RaceFail (on the Elizabeth Bear/Will Shetterley side, natch) and subsequently refused to attend a con because he thought that he would be "unsafe" there as a white, male author. So, yeah.

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Arthur B

at 01:19 on 2010-08-31Tempest's blog post is awesome. It's amazing how quick people can go from "Behold, I am Jay Lake, Minority Warrior!" to "It just ain't safe for a white male author at a con these days."

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Wardog

at 09:17 on 2010-08-31Gosh, is he terrified of all those angry black people resorting to violence?

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Michal

at 02:50 on 2011-06-19Ho boy. I read Lake's Mainspring, and in the first few pages I had this creeping feeling and a voice in my head kept saying "put this down, don't waste time on this, it's not worth it", but then, in my idiocy, I picked it up again. By the time I got to the part where my inner critic was screaming at me to stop, I was already too far and in my stubbornness ended up finishing it. It's only later that I found out he started Racefail, but my impressions from Mainspring were not at all good. For instance, I giant wall separates the northern and southern hemispheres. And when the main character finally crosses that wall into sub-Saharan Africa, instead of interesting cultures allowed to develop without European influence, we get ape men and evil black sorcerers. My jaw dropped.

Then the main character has sex with an ape-woman.

Then he saves the world with the power of love.

Yeah.

Looks like Lake continues on the same path in Green.

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https://me.yahoo.com/a/0txE6GYMzdiwjPOqDTwLdeHMvOdijS5Jm1c-#9995a

at 03:32 on 2011-06-19You know, on one hand I feel that the entire "women are purer than me" should be a compliment to women. On the other hand, it's the same old tactic of "put 'em on a throne then stab 'em in the back" as with the supposed glorification of women, whilst surreptitiously ridiculting the notion.

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Arthur B

at 04:02 on 2011-06-19The thing about defining some other category of people as being purer than you is that it simultaneously lets you off the hook for your own bad behaviour ("I'm just a stupid ol' man, how can I be expected to behave differently?") whilst simultaneously lets you hold that category of folks to a higher standard - and therefore get correspondingly nastier with them when they fail to meet the standard you've imposed. ("I'd have expected that from a man, but you, I thought I could trust you to do better. What sort of woman are you?")

It's basically yet one more flavour of creepery that needs to be pointed out for the creepery it is.

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Wardog

at 19:31 on 2011-06-19@Michal

Youch. I remember tying myself into knots of pure anguish trying to review this thing for Strange Horizons - I genuinely felt uncomfortable barging onto someone else's site and yelling that this white woman thought this dude was being a big racist, so I ended up talking about his creepy creepy attitude to sex instead. So this review from Dan, racefail and further commentary on Lake's general skeeviness has been, in some ways, quite cathartic. Sounds like Mainspring is continuing in the general Lake tradition of fail fail fail though.

Incidentally I just re-visited the cover of this book - just because she's upside-down doesn't detract from the fact it's basically fantasy crotchshot #27362. Not that I'm blaming Lake for his cover art or anything but just ... sigh.

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Cammalot

at 21:46 on 2011-06-19"And when the main character finally crosses that wall into sub-Saharan Africa, instead of interesting cultures allowed to develop without European influence"

Does anybody write this? Seriously, could somebody direct me to a place where this exists and is well written and I can have lots of it, please? Because my beloved Jacqueline Carey kind of falls on her face on this score, Stephen Barnes demonstrates homophobia in his modern-set works that makes me afraid to try his version, and everything else I've encountered has been about subjugation and death of such culture, not flourishing, and I get enough of that on my own planet, this is supposed to be fantasy here. Basically I resort to watching a bunch of historical KBS dramas for a non Western fix.

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Cammalot

at 22:00 on 2011-06-19(Speaking of which, I always thought the girl on this cover looked far more like a cross between Choi Jung-Won and Kim Sung-Eun --heavier on the

Kim Sung-Eun

side -- than any white girl, though that still doesn't really fix its problems--still wrong ethnicity/skin tone and yeah, the crotch thing...)

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Michal

at 22:08 on 2011-06-19Imaro is your answer, Cammalot. Imaro, by Charles R. Saunders. 4 books of sub-Saharan sword & sorcery without a white person in sight.

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Cammalot

at 22:16 on 2011-06-19Fantastic. :) And again the Ferreters deliver with speed and quickness. Love this site so much...

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Arthur B

at 22:23 on 2011-06-19I've wanted to read the

Imaro

stuff ever since I read a Saunders quote saying that his main inspiration for writing the things was wanting to see a black hero who could kick Conan's ass. And goodness, the sword and sorcery subgenre direly needed one.

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http://koboldwhisperer.livejournal.com/

at 22:43 on 2011-06-19Imaro is fantastic stuff; I have a spare copy if anyone wants it, actually. It should be noted that there are two substantially different versions of the Imaro books floating around: the original Imaro book from 1981 had a section ("Slaves of the Giant-Kings") which Saunders removed from the recent reprint because it paralleled too closely the events of the Rwanda genocide and he didn't want to be seen as profiting from that tragedy. So much of the series, and the relationships of some of the characters to one another, changed subtly because of the alternate chapter he used in the reprints.

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Michal

at 22:58 on 2011-06-19

I've wanted to read the Imaro stuff ever since I read a Saunders quote saying that his main inspiration for writing the things was wanting to see a black hero who could kick Conan's ass.

Actually, Tarzan's ass.

Saunder's hasn't been too skimpy on

praising Robert E. Howard

, but with obvious reservations. Imaro is a great retort to the charge that fantasy/sword & sorcery is inherently racist, and I wish Saunders had more publishing success than he did (he's still having a bitch of a time with it).

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valse de la lune

at 18:25 on 2011-06-21I just learned from a friend that Lake wrote

Green

for his daughter. His adopted

Chinese

daughter.

Oh god no.

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Michal

at 18:40 on 2011-06-21

I just learned from a friend that Lake wrote Green for his daughter. His adopted Chinese daughter.

You're not the first person to be a bit squicked.

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valse de la lune

at 19:15 on 2011-06-21Oh, found a whole new reason to hate this book and Lake:

I enjoyed seeing the Southeast Asian-inspired part of Jay Lake’s world in the second arc.

Die in a fire.

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Wardog

at 19:48 on 2011-06-21

I just learned from a friend that Lake wrote Green for his daughter. His adopted Chinese daughter.

I believe remember reading somewhere that was part of Lake's justification for why everyone's criticisms were wrong.

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Arthur B

at 19:49 on 2011-06-21Did this justification go "I'm not racist, I allow a Chinese person to live in my home?"

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Tamara

at 20:19 on 2011-06-24My boss had us let off steam a while back by having us make a giant list of all the phrases/words/terms that we thought were sexist and wished would go away, everything from "bitch" to "soccer mom" to "I want to have your baby." I threw out "the world would be a better place if women ran it," and my boss actually vetoed it. Basically, I wonder if it might not be a generation gap to some extent - i'm 24, she's in her 50/60's. To me thats obviously a continuation of a harmful dichotomy, de-individuation of women, patronizing, etc, and she just said, "Women never have run the world, and I do think it will be a better place if more of us did." And honestly i'm not sure what to answer to that. (This is entirely tangetial to the book, I suppose, which seems to be more concerned with the possession of power than with the use of it.)

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Dan H

at 21:22 on 2011-06-24

To me thats obviously a continuation of a harmful dichotomy, de-individuation of women, patronizing, etc, and she just said, "Women never have run the world, and I do think it will be a better place if more of us did." And honestly i'm not sure what to answer to that.

I think you might have been talking at slightly cross-purposes here, from her response it's possible that she sees "if women ran the world" as being a hyperbolic way of saying "if women were as involved in running the world as men are". It might also be a generational thing, my Mum was also fond of women-are-better-than-men rhetoric.

(This is entirely tangetial to the book, I suppose, which seems to be more concerned with the possession of power than with the use of it.)

I think it ties into the same set of assumptions. Certainly one of the things that squicked me out most about Green was the fact that there was no engagement at all with the fact that the Lily Temple basically sexually abuses Green, because the assumption seemed to be that in was a female-dominated institution serving a female divinity and it was therefore *utterly impossible* for it to be harmful to individual women.

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Arthur B

at 21:33 on 2011-06-24But Dan, it's OK, Jay Lake spent several years living in the temple of an all-female child abuse cult.

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valse de la lune

at 20:48 on 2011-10-25Amazon has notified me that the sequel to this book will be out on 8 Nov.

Take one for the team, Dan? :D

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Dan H

at 22:30 on 2011-10-25

Take one for the team, Dan? :D

I think I might actually prefer to mutilate my own face.

... d'you see. Because the heroine in the book mutilates her own face...

I actually found the original so *utterly* boring that I'm not sure I could be arsed. I think my terrible-book-reviewing career is likely to be on hiatus until the conclusion of the Kingkiller chronicles (because having read two thirds of the damned thing, I'm going to *have* to finish that fucker).

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Robinson L

at 18:30 on 2013-05-11According to a recent post in a fiction group I'm part of, Jay Lake has recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. That's pretty grim.

[fictionalabyss]

One last dance.

Pairing : Gabe x reader

Words : 482

Warning : Angst.

Request: I don’t know if either of you speak french(or feel like looking up the translation) but there is a really pretty french song (called Derniere Danse by Indila) that I think would make a good fic (maybe with Gabe?) if not I would say it’s worth a listen anyway much love xx & (Anon who sent the ask w the french song Derniere Danse): I like that idea! Maybe w like memories of them together(the song talks about flying & dancing a lot so something like a fluffy memory w those could be cute) but even if you guys just wanted to go with the feel of the song whatever you guys wrote im sure would be great! (I really should start signing my anon messages w something because I have sent a few & I am on this page like everyday /-\ idk im just shy so i use anon) -Bee

You went about your days as if in a daze. All the color and joy sucked out of your life. You were just going through the motions, until the next breakdown. You’d fall to pieces, and eventually pick yourself back up and start again.

You closed your eyes as you walked past the chocolate shop.  You always closed your eyes when you passed it now. You had brought him in there once, and his face had lit up, as if you had brought him to the Wonka factory. He had actually found a kind of chocolate he had never tried before. “twelve.. thirteen.. fourteen.. fifteen.” You took a deep breath. 15 steps and you were past it. Your eyes opened again and you continued on. You were getting better at avoiding things that reminded you of him.

Somewhere along the way, you heard music. You glanced in a window and saw a couple learning to dance. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Hey sweet heart, what are you listening to? Is that big band?”

You chuckled as his arms wrapped around you from behind “I’m a sucker for trombones and trumpets Gabe, what can I say. I wish I could dance to it though.”

“I can teach you sugar. Easy peasy.”

You turned and raised an eyebrow. “You dance?”

“I’ve been hanging around here for centuries. Of course I dance. Come on, I’ll teach you to Foxtrot.” His eyes lit up as he held out his hand.

A tear ran down your cheek as you pulled yourself away from the window. “Fuck.” You headed to the park that you knew was just a few blocks away.

You remembered how he had held your hand and waist, as you both moved across the floor. They way those whiskey coloured eyes shone as he looked down at you. You groaned. The only Whiskey anything in your life these days was a bottle of Jack.

“You can move Sweetheart.” He beamed one night. “Best dance partner I’ve come across yet.”

You laughed. “I did the Charleston once in school as a kid. My mom sewed me this cute little flapper dress.. I’ve been hooked since.”

“SWING!” He practically shouted it, he beamed with excitement. “Let’s do swing!”

You shook your head. “I don’t know Gabe… I only ever did it that one time.. I was like 7 or 8..”

He pulled you to him making you laugh. “Come on.. I’m having so much fun. Dance with me.”

You found a quiet park bench and dropped into it. You watched birds  fly over you. As your head went back to look up, you found yourself watching the clouds. He had told you all about heaven. You wondered if there was a heaven for him.

If heaven was your good memories, your best memories, would he be there waiting for you? Would you get one last dance.

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[my-dear-hammy]

Heads or Tails:Hamlaf/Jamilton

Masterpost

Chapter Fourteen: Cabinet Battle #1 Return of the Democratic-Republicans

You know what felt good? Being Thomas Jefferson again. He spun on his heel and spread his arms out to the people in the room, lifting his cane in the air instead of using it for support. "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. We fought for these ideals we shouldn't settle for less. These are wise words enterprising men quote 'em, don't act surprised you guy cuz I wrote 'em!"

Oh yeah. It definitely felt good to be back. "Now, but Hamilton forgets," Jefferson gestured to Hamilton with his cane, "his plan would have the government assume state's debts. Now place your bets as to who that benefits, the very seat of government Hamilton sits."

"Not true!" Hamilton protested.

"Oh if the shoe fits, wear it," Jefferson preened. "If New York's in debt, why should Virginia bear it? Uh, our debts are paid I'm afraid don't tax the South cause we got it made in the shade." Jefferson said, settling into a chair with his arms comfortably behind his head. Then he sat excitedly forward, gesturing with his hands, "In Virginia, we plant seeds in the ground, we create," Jefferson leaped to his feet, accusing Hamilton with his cane, "You just want to move our money around." He turned to the other people, "this plan is an outrageous demand and it's too many damn pages for any man to understand. Stand with me," his cane slammed into the floor, "in the land of the free. Pray to God we never see Hamilton's candidacy. Look, when Britain taxed our tea, we got frisky, imagine what's gon' happen when you try to tax our whiskey."

Hamilton laughed slightly, slowly standing up from his seat, "Thomas, that was a real nice Declaration," he stepped on to the table and walked over it, plopping down onto the floor to stand directly in front of Jefferson. "Welcome to the present, we're running a real nation. Would like to join us? Or stay mellow doing whatever the hell it is you do in Monticello?" Hamilton turned to the people, "If we assume the debts we get a new line of credit, a financial diuretic," Hamilton got up in Jefferson's face again, "How do you not get it? If we're aggressive and competitive the Union gets a boost, you'd rather give it a sedative?" Jefferson was silently cursing himself out, using all his will power not to take Hamilton right then and there. God, he was so hot when he was passionate.

"A civics lesson from a slaver, hey neighbor, your debts are paid cause you don't pay for labor. 'We plant seeds in the south, we create,' yeah, keeping ranting, we know who's really doing the planting."

That snapped Jefferson from his delectable thoughts but Hamilton was already moving on. "And another thing, Mister Age-Of-Enlightenment, don't lecture me about the war, you didn't fight in it," Jefferson's leg decided at that moment to send him a lovely spike of pain to remind him that he did, in fact, fight in the war. And now got no credit. "You think I'm frightened of you man? We almost died in the trench while you were off getting high with the French!"

"Don't get carried away, you're not the entire brigade," Jefferson scoffed, rolling his eyes. "From what I remember you were only an aid. Hardly saw battle, always behind the lines, I bet Lafayette had better times in the saddle than dealing with your useless prattle. Dines with the general and preach in his name, trying to raise yourself to glory and to fame. Lame. You talk as though you were the entire war. You're not the only one who saw gore, but you're the only one here who wants to see more."

Hamilton's anger slowly rose to bursting. At least, he thought it was his anger. He learned a couple things right then. This was a man that could actually keep up with him and two, he seemed to magnetically draw Hamilton closer. Hamilton hated it.

Jefferson continued, "Sure, the Declaration is a thing of the past, but your proclamation doesn't even have class. It's crass so I'll pass. Alas, you may be right about slavery and the south, but if just for a second you shut your mouth you might learn that I wrote the clause to end slavery that everyone else struck out."

"You two have gotten vastly off subject, don't make me redirect us to the object," Washington intervened. "This is about a financial plan, not a demented poetry slam."

"Sorry, Sir," Hamilton mumbled.

"My apologies," Jefferson said, "Allow me to redirect. I hope my statements have the proper effect and get through that thick head. Your plan is against the law of the land, there you stand accusing me of being gone, but you're trying to pass a plan that's completely wrong. Stripping the states of their rights when the Constitution was barely signed last night.  This is a plight and I won't let it pass without a fight."

"Every word you utter is complete nonsense. Total irrelevance," Hamilton stated. "You say I have no sense but the colonies are still singing six pence. The plan is the best way for us to be able to pay the debts that are due. God help me, let this get through.  Either way, you don't have precedent. Thomas Jefferson always hesitant with the president, reticent, there isn't a plan he doesn't jettison. Madison, you're mad as a hatter, son, take your medicine. Damn, you're in worse shape than the national debt is in, sittin' there useless as two shits, hey, turn around bend over, I'll show you where my shoe fits!"

"Excuse me?!" Washington hollered. "Madison, Jefferson, take a walk! Hamilton, take a walk! We'll reconvene after a brief recess. Hamilton!"

"Sir!"

"A word."

Jefferson leaned over to Hamilton before he could walk off and purred with his thick southern accent, "Gladly. Show me anytime, Darlin'," then walked away with Madison.

Hamilton felt his face flush and cussed himself out. No one had that effect on him except Lafayette. Lafayette who was across the sea and hadn't been heard from for months. Hamilton smoothed out his hair and walked after Washington, trying to get the heat that poured off his body to cool off.

----

AN

You know what I realized while writing this? The line, "That was a real nice Declaration," wasn't just referring to what Jefferson had just said about the plan but the actual Declaration. "That was a real nice Declaration, welcome to the present, we're running a real nation." That was Hamilton going, yeah, the Declaration of Independence was cool, but that was over a decade ago, it's not all theory now, this is real and you need to wake up.

How cool is that???

@purpledramallamas @unabashedinternetruins @hamilton-angst