#i severely missed the “maybe the driver saw green” line

[marjansmarwani]

In the midnight hour, we came alive

3.3k || ao3 

He heard footsteps behind as he walked him but thought nothing of it until he noticed a figure leaning against the side of a building, at the mouth of an alley. It seemed innocent enough but something about it made the hair on the back of Carlos’s neck stand on edge. Something wasn’t right.

Or, When Carlos goes off on his own while out with TK and Paul, he finds more far trouble than he expected. ---- Day 2 of Angst Week: "does it hurt badly?” + "don’t move, they hit your head really hard” + infected wound for bthb

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This one was started with a prompt request from an Anon who asked for hurt Carlos and I decided to throw in my infected wound square for @badthingshappenbingo, requested by @immortalstrand. 

Beta’d by @silvarafael

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“I still don’t know why you didn’t ask Picnic Girl to come out with us.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as Paul glared at TK, “Will you let that go?” 

“No, I will not,” TK said firmly. “It seemed like she liked you and I know you liked her. So I’m just wondering why you haven’t seen more of her.” 

“You know most of us don’t just fall into a perfect committed relationship with the first person we meet in a new town, TK. Some of us have to play the game.” 

“First of all, don’t hate,” TK chided, sliding an arm around Carlos’s waist as he spoke and flashing him a grin before he continued. “Secondly, you have been playing the game! And you found a girl that seems like a good match for you. So I’m just curious why you aren’t trying harder to pursue it.”

Paul opened up his mouth to respond to his friend but was interrupted when the line moved forward. 

“Oh thank god,” Carlos muttered, rather louder than he meant to, causing the other two to look at him. “Don’t give me those looks,” he said defensively, “ you two have been having this argument all night. I will happily take any distraction. Like this lovely ID check before we get into the club where it will be too loud for you to hear each other enough to continue this conversation.” 

Paul snorted and TK shook his head at his boyfriend even as he leaned closer to him. 

“I’m sorry,” TK said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to drag it on so long.” 

“It’s okay,” Carlos responded with a smile, “I know you mean well.” 

“You’re really just going to let him off like that?” Paul asked incredulously. 

Carlos shrugged, “He is awfully cute.” 

“Wow man, wow. I thought you had my back.” 

Carlos’s response was cut off when the line moved forward again the bouncer at the club asked for their IDs. Carlos shifted out of TK’s grasp so he could reach into his pocket, only to come up empty. He frowned, reaching into his other pocket instead with the same result. Both Paul and TK as well as the bouncer were watching him now and he shrugged, “It doesn’t look like I have it, I must have left it in the car.”

“Can’t let you in without it, man,” the bouncer began, and Carlos nodded. 

“Of course, I understand. I’ll just go get it.” 

“Do you want us to come with you?” TK asked, but Carlos shook his head. 

“No, you two go in. I’ll meet you there shortly.” 

“Are you sure?” TK asked again, “We don’t mind.” 

“I’m a big boy, Ty,” Carlos reminded him with a roll of his eyes, “I can handle walking two blocks to the car on my own. Go inside and I’ll be there before you know it. Just make sure that you save a dance for me?” 

“They’re all for you,” TK assured him, and Carlos grinned. He gave TK a quick kiss before waving at Paul and stepping out of the line, heading towards his car. 

He hadn’t parked far - the Camaro was on a side street about two blocks from the front door of the club - and it was a nice night for a walk at least. The humid day had faded into a cool night and Carlos savored the breeze and the quiet of the city at night. It was a nice reprieve from what was sure to be several hours full of loud music and close quarters with strangers and Carlos let himself enjoy it as he finished the journey to his car. 

It wasn’t a long walk and within a few minutes he had reached his destination, unlocking the door and leaning inside, peering around for his missing wallet. It only took him a moment to spot it on the floor of the driver’s seat. He picked it up, sliding it back into his pocket as he shut and locked the door behind him and stepped back onto the sidewalk to head back towards the noise and bright lights of the main street. 

He heard footsteps behind as he walked him but thought nothing of it until he noticed a figure leaning against the side of a building, at the mouth of an alley. It seemed innocent enough but something about it made the hair on the back of Carlos’s neck stand on edge. Something wasn’t right. 

He sped up slightly, not wanting to draw attention to himself but wanting to reach the main street as quickly as possible. His focus was split between that goal and on watching the figure by the alley that he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him growing ever closer until it was too late. 

The assailant attacked from behind, using a surprising amount of force to shove Carlos to the side, sending him sprawling onto the ground of the alley to his right. He picked himself up, spinning to face his attackers. It may be two against one, but he had training and strength on his side. He was a cop, he knew what was likely about to happen and he knew how to handle it. He wasn’t worried, it would be fine. 

Or at least, he thought it would until he heard more footsteps behind him, coming from different sides. Four was different. Four against one had odds that almost never favored the one. For the first time, Carlos let himself feel fear. This was not going to go well for him, he knew it with cold certainty. 

That doesn’t mean they needed to know that though. 

“What do you want?” he asked calmly, voice steady and back straight. He turned as he spoke, trying to keep them all in his field of vision as much as possible. He didn’t get an answer. What he got instead was a blinding pain as something collided with the side of his head, and he staggered. He managed to regain his footing, to stay upright, but only for another moment. There were hands on him now, roughly reaching for his pockets before shoving him down and he collided with the alley ground. A sharp pain ripped through him from his side as blows rained down on him from all directions. 

He couldn’t follow what was happening - all he knew was pain and noise. It was loud and fast and all-consuming; it made his head swim. The noise didn’t stop but eventually, the blows did. It took him a moment to realize they were done but once he did he tried to pull himself up. He needed to get out of this alley, he needed to get help. 

But the pain was too sharp and it sent him crashing down again, the arms he had been trying to push himself up with giving out beneath him. He lay there, mindful of the peril of his predicament and knowing he needed to do something, that he needed to move. But his head was swimming and he couldn’t manage to follow a coherent thought. Even the need to get help was not so much a plan as a disjointed thought floating through his pain hazed mind. He needed to get help, but all he wanted to do was close his eyes and let the blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision consume him. 

He was about to do just that when the sound of more commotion drifted in from the mouth of the alley. He heard more footsteps, and he tensed. Could they be back for round two? He was fairly certain they had already stripped him of anything of value. What more could there be to take? Maybe, he thought wryly, they just wanted to hurt him some more. Maybe that was just their idea of a good time. 

The footsteps grew closer but there were fewer of them this time, he thought. He was still trying to blink, to open his eyes and see who was coming when a voice joined the footsteps, “Carlos!” 

The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He must know them though, they had called him by name. He heard the sound of the footsteps quickening as they drew closer and the sudden warmth of someone else’s hands against his skin. He jerked back on reflex before the same voice sounded again, warm and soothing in his ears. 

“Easy Carlos, it’s just me babe. You’re safe and we’re going to get you help.” 

He frowned as he pulled his eyes open, squinting in an effort to focus, to make out the face before him. Worried green eyes greeted his own and he could feel some of the tension leave his body. 

“TK,” he croaked and his boyfriend swallowed before reaching out to rub a gentle hand on his face. 

“Yeah, it’s me, babe. Can you tell me what hurts?”

Everything Carlos thought dully but he pushed his mind, running over the pain that covered his body, looking for a source. “Head,” he said eventually, “hip.” 

He felt TK’s gentle hands leave his face and travel to his side, where he let out a curse. He said something over his shoulder and got a response but Carlos couldn’t follow any of it. Maybe if he stood up... 

“Hey, don’t move,” TK instructed, “they hit your head really hard and you have a wound on your side too. You need to stay put until paramedics get here.”  

“You are a paramedic,” Carlos muttered, but it came out more like a question. He wasn’t too sure of anything at the moment.

“Paramedics with gear and an ambulance then,” TK amended, “you’re going to need both for your side.” 

“What’s wrong with it?” he managed to ask. 

“There’s some scrap metal stuck in it,” TK told him. “I’m not sure if…” 

He trailed off but even Carlos’s hazy brain could figure out where his mind had been going, “Must’ve fallen on it,” he muttered, “when they pushed me down.” 

He could feel TK’s hands tighten on him at the revelation and saw movement as another face entered his field of vision. 

“Do you know how many of them there were?” the other face (Paul, his mind provided. They had been out with Paul) asked. 

“Four maybe?” Carlos said with a shrug that ended abruptly with a wince as he jostled his side. TK’s hands moved to his shoulders, steadying him. 

“Hey, try and hold still,” he said softly, “you’re in pretty rough shape.”

“I’m fine.” 

The fact that the words entered the night air slurred did not help his case and caused TK to scoff, “Don’t even try that with me Carlos Reyes, you are not fine.” 

Carlos wanted to argue with him, to tell him he was fine so he could get rid of that terrified look in TK’s eyes but he couldn’t find the words. His efforts were stalled by the sounds of approaching sirens and he realized with dread that there would be police called to the scene as well. When he had planned his night in his head being found bleeding and injured in an alley by his coworkers had never entered the equation, but his luck was just like he supposed. 

“It’s okay,” TK assured him, “the ambulance just got here. You’ll be out of here soon.” 

Carlos wasn’t sure if he had shared his thoughts out loud or not, but he appreciated the reassurance either way. He wouldn’t be any good to talk to at the moment anyway. His brain was still too scrambled, everything that had happened was in his mind in flashes; quick and jumbled and out of order. 

There were more footsteps and voices now. There was a flurry of activity and Carlos couldn’t keep track of any of it. All he knew was pain and the feel of TK’s hands on him. He heard his boyfriend’s voice and he tried to follow it, tried to cling to it to maintain some semblance of what was going on but he was only able to extract every few words. The rest hit his mind and dissipated, losing all meaning in the face of the pain and confusion engulfing him. 

More hands were on him now but TK stayed at his side, a comfort and an anchor amongst all the commotion. He heard his name from the edges of the commotion - his fellow officers, no doubt. He closed his eyes again, cursing his horrible luck but TK lightly prodded him.

“Hey, stay with me Carlos. You need to stay awake.” 

He made a noise of protest but opened his eyes nonetheless in time to see the world shift as he was transferred to the gurney. He was pushed through the growing crowd, TK at his side murmuring words of encouragement. His world shifts again as the gurney is lifted into the ambulance and pain washes over him as his side is jostled. He hisses in pain and TK’s hands are on him again, warm and comforting to pair with his soothing voice, “It’s okay Carlos, you’re going to be fine. Just stay with me, babe.” 

And Carlos wants to, he really does. But the darkness at the edges of his vision is growing closer now and he doesn’t think he really has a choice. He meets TK’s eyes, so full of love and worry, and tries to smile before his eyes close again, TK’s voice the last sound he hears. 

-----------

The next time he’s aware of anything he’s in a hospital room. At least, he thinks he is. Everything is a little hazy, but he knows he’s no longer in the alley, at least. 

He groans as the light hits his eyes, causing a spike of pain in his head. He hears movement off to the side and then there is a hand on him and a soft voice to his side: “Carlos?” 

The voice was soft and familiar. “TK?” 

“Yeah babe,” he said, “it’s me. How are you feeling?” 

“Lousy,” Carlos told him honestly, pulling a weak chuckle from the other man. 

“That’s not surprising,” he said quietly, gently pulling himself onto the edge of the bed so Carlos could see him better. 

“What happened?” Carlos asked him, frowning as he tried to piece the fragments of sound and sensations in his mind into something concrete. “I remember being attacked and then you and Paul finding me, but nothing after that.” 

 TK reached out a hand wrapped it around one of Carlos’s, “You just got out of surgery a little while ago,” he told him softly, “they had to remove the metal in your side. There was a decent amount of tearing and it was dirty, so they’re worried about infection. To top all that off you have a concussion and a skull fracture.” 

“Ouch,” Carlos said absently and TK gave him a sympathetic grin. 

“Ouch is right. The good news is that as long as you aren’t showing any signs of infection you should be able to be released tomorrow, providing you have someone to stay with you. And it just so happens I have some vacation time saved up.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” TK confirmed lightly, reaching out his other hand to caress Carlos’s face. Carlos leaned into the touch, but TK frowned. “You’re really warm, babe.” 

Really? Carlos was surprised by the statement. “I’m freezing,” he told TK, whose frown deepened. 

“That’s not a great sign,” he admitted, “could be an infection setting in. I’m going to try and grab your doctor, you just relax, okay?” 

“Okay,” he told TK, but his eyes were already drifting closed again. He didn’t know why it was so hard to keep them open. Maybe it was the after effects of the anesthesia. Regardless of the reason, Carlos was out before TK even reached the door. 

-----------

The next few times Carlos woke up were a haze. He thinks he’s been awake a few times, but they all blended together. There are sounds and voices, people and faces he can’t quite place. And TK - TK is always there. That’s the only thing Carlos knows for sure. 

He doesn’t know how long it had been but eventually, when he opened his eyes, his mind felt clearer. He blinked a few times to test it before glancing around the room. The hospital seemed quieter than usual, the typical hustle and bustle more sedated. But that’s not Carlos’s concern. His only concern is the sleeping figure in the chair beside his bed, head braced uncomfortably by his left arm held aloft by the side of the chair. The other man looked exhausted and as much as Carlos wanted to see his eyes and get some answers, he couldn’t bear the thought of waking him. He settled instead for attempting to shift into a more comfortable position, which turned out to both be impossible and a mistake as he jostled his side and let out an involuntary gasp of pain. 

TK was awake in an instant, head dropping unceremoniously off of his extended hand as he sat up, eyes flying open and seeking Carlos in panic. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said sheepishly when their eyes met, “I didn’t want to wake you, you look exhausted.” 

“It’s fine,” TK assured him hurriedly, leaning forward in his seat, “I’m just happy to see you awake again. How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Carlos told him honestly, “still in pain and not feeling great, but my mind feels clearer than it has the last few times I woke up, I think. It’s all kind of a haze, to be honest.” 

TK’s expression darkened as he leaned forward, placing the back of his hand on Carlos’s forehead, “I’m not surprised, the infection they were worried about came, and it hit you hard. You don’t feel warm anymore, I think the fever finally broke.” 

Carlos frowned at his boyfriend as he leaned back into his seat, “How long has it been?” 

“We’re on day 3 now. Well, night 3. It’s after midnight now.”

“Shit,” Carlos said, leaning his head back into the pillows and TK chuckled lightly.

“That about sums it up, yeah. That’s what happens when a piece of rusty metal impales you. They think that it got into your bloodstream which is why the infection spread so fast and, well it was really scary, Carlos.” 

There was quiet for a few moments as they both got lost in their own thoughts. Carlos opened his mouth, but TK shook his head. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, “none of this is your fault.” 

“I wasn’t going to,” Carlos said defensively, choosing to ignore TK’s skeptical eyebrow, “I was going to thank you, for being here. I know it can’t have been easy.” 

TK’s expression softened and he lifted himself out of his chair, coming to rest on the side of Carlos’s bed. “There’s nowhere else I would have wanted to be,” he told him honestly, “you needed me and that’s where I will always be, no matter what.”  

Carlos smiled at him and shifted over in the bed to make more room. Or at least, that is what he planned to do. Instead, his movements were brought to an abrupt halt by a flash of pain as he jostled his side again, freezing his movements and pulling a gasp from his lips. 

TK’s hands were on him in an instant, steady and reassuring. “Hey, try not to move too much,” he admonished lightly, “you’re still injured.” He gestured down to his side, “Does it hurt badly?” 

“Yeah,” Carlos admitted, “but I’ll be fine. You’re here and that’s all I need.” 

TK studied him for a moment before breaking out in laughter. “Carlos Reyes,” he said between breaths, “you are a sap. And while that’s sweet, I think some pain medication might help too.” 

He leaned around Carlos to reach for the call button and Carlos sighed in defeat. 

“Fine,” he relented, “but I’d much rather have you.” 

“Whoever said the two were mutually exclusive, babe?” TK asked him, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to his forehead, “I’m not going anywhere, and that’s a promise.” 

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Weekly Meal Prep (Yandere!Omi Fushimi)

note: this is my first attempt at working with the yandere theme so i don't really know if i did good or bad,,, but something about messed up omi just sends me straight to hell. hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.9k

Monday.

"This is so good! This has got to be one of my favorite curry dishes so far." You gushed, shoving another spoonful of the new curry in your mouth.

"Glad you liked it. The place had bad reviews, but I think it's just because normal people don't know how to appreciate the raw and concentrated flavor of curry." Chikage grinned as he looked at you endearingly

"Ugh," You scoffed, "Why can't people understand that the raw flavor of the spices are supposed to taste like this? I dislike the artificial flavors of watered down and manufactured spices because of how... fake it tastes in curry dishes." You were about to go on a full-on rant about how using real spices in curry dishes should be the only way to cook curry.

Chikage watched you with his emerald eyes, admiring how beautiful you looked when you talked about something that you were so passionate about. Yeah, sure, he disliked women, but being here with you made him realize that maybe the other gender wasn't all that bad. Actually, he still hated women; He just didn't hate you.

You weren't a woman. To him, you were a goddess.

"Thank you for taking me out, by the way." You suddenly spoke, breaking your rant about the whole curry ordeal. "You didn't have to, but you did. I appreciate that a lot, Chikage."

His lips curled up in a warm smile.

"Don't mention it, director."

After you two finished your meals, you had to go back to the dorm immediately to hold several meetings with the troupes regarding their next projects. As Chikage held the door open for you, his eyes darted back inside the bustling restaurant.

"Hm? Is something wrong, Chikage?"

Again, he smiled at you, but it was more strained than the last.

"Of course not. Let's go home, shall we?"

-

Tuesday.

"Oi, careful." Juza wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. A motorcycle was speeding by and it nearly hit you, but thankfully, Juza saw it before it impacted. "Tsk, careless drivers piss me off. Stand here." He then guided you to walk inside of the sidewalk.

"Oh crap, I didn't see that. Thank you, Juza! You're so nice." Juza blushed at your kind words, but he shook his head to rid of the thoughts.

"'S nothin."

"Hey, look at that! They're selling a new flavor of crepes! Come on, let's check it out!" You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to your favorite crepe place. They didn't have a line yet, which was good, because you were able to purchase the new crepes for you and Juza.

"Here!" You grinned at him, handing him one of the crepes

"Lemme pay for them."

"Nonsense!" You gently pushed the crepe further into his hand, and his mind went wild when your fingers brushed his skin. "Consider this a thank you gift because you saved me earlier."

He took the crepe hesitantly, and muttered a quiet "Thanks." before he bit into it.

His face lit up immediately.

"'S sweet. I like it."

"Marshmallow crepes. Genius! We should bring one home for Hisoka. I'm sure he'd love this!"

Juza smiled. He adored how you were always considerate and thoughtful of other people even when you weren't physically with them. It's one of the many things that he loved about you.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver down his spine. He looked around, but was suddenly distracted when you were spilling the cream all over yourself.

"Crap!"

"Oi, tissue!"

He handed you a few tissues so you could wipe your shirt, and you had to admit that was a little mortifying to be that clumsy in front of the younger male.

"Thank you for being so reliable, Juza. Makes me feel

As you were mindlessly walking home, Juza couldn't help but think to himself why that motorcycle looked so damn familiar.

-

Wednesday.

"Come on, director-chan! I promise you, it tastes good!"

"Kazu, I am legitimately going to HURT you."

"No you're not! That's so mean!" Kazunari wept crocodile tears.

"Come on, director-chan! It's just a bite!"

"Kumon, I'm going to die. If I don't make it, tell everyone in Mankai that I love them and that I always treated them as my own family."

"Director-chan, you aren't going to die here." Kumon sweat dropped.

"No, I've accepted my fate. If this is what I must do for love, then at least I'll go out knowing that I did it for you boys.

"Director-chan, it's just a salad. You don't have to be so dramatic about it!"

"It's a death trap! I know you boys want to kill me so you can always get free time!"

"If anything, we're concerned about you health! That's why we want you to eat this!" Kazunari made sure that the fork had greens, kani, and a mishmash of everything before he held it in front of your mouth. "Here, say ah!"

You wanted to throw up. Vegetables. Disgusting.

"This store sells the best kani salad! You have to try it, I promise you'll like it!" Kumon looked at you with big doe eyes and you sighed in defeat.

You leaned forward to eat the portion on the fork and Kazunari blushed because he realized that he was feeding you. It was an adorable sight, and maybe peer pressuring someone into eating healthy food could be an addition to his growing list of love advice.

You blinked. "It's... actually pretty good."

"Right?!" Kumon beamed before giving the restaurant owner a thumbs up.

"Here, director-chan!" Kazunari filled the fork again, "Say ah!"

Your face bloomed red and you snatched the fork from his hand, "I can feed myself just fine, Kazu!"

"You really are the cutest!"

"I wanna feed you too, director-chan!"

Kazunari watched as Kumon bothered you while you ate the rest of the salad. It was off-putting how there seemed to be a cold atmosphere in the room. He looked around to see that there were just a few customers sitting in the dining area. His eyes landed on a hooded figure who was sitting in a lone booth in the corner of the room. The figure had his face hidden behind a menu, but there was something about the person that reminded Kazu of a certain brunette that they loved in Mankai.

Maybe that was just coincidence.

After all, there were a lot of brunettes in Japan.

Right?

-

Thursday.

"It's odd for you two to take me out for Chinese." You stated. Your eyes were scanning the menu of the new Chinese place that opened just a few blocks away from the Mankai dormitory.

"Tsumugi found out about the egg drop soup because apparently it's famous outside of Veludo Way. He was insistent that we take you to try it." Tasuku replied, eyeing how excited Tsumugi looked.

"I've heard great reviews about the egg drop soup and I've been dying to try it." Tsumugi's usually calm and gentle tone of voice was laced with a child-like glee, and it took all of your willpower not to reach over the table so that you can pinch his cheeks.

"He already ordered individual soups for us, but if you want anything else off the menu, go ahead and order it as well." Tasuku won't admit it aloud, but he liked spending time with you and Tsumugi. Being with his bestfriend and his favorite director made him feel a sense of comfort that just made him feel all warm and gooey inside. He felt at home with you two and he wouldn't exchange that feeling for the world.

"It's refreshing to be with you two, especially since it's a lot calmer whenever Tasuku isn't at your throat, Tsumugi." You giggled, ignoring the deadpan look that the athletic male beside you was giving you.

"I'm glad you feel that way, director-san." Tsumugi chimed, smiling. He took your hand a placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Spend some more time with us, alright?"

Your face immediately felt hot and you pulled your hand back to save yourself from being more embarrassed than you already were.

"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched?" Tasuku murmured as his eyes quickly scouted the room. Ever since you entered the restaurant, Tasuku already had this instinct in his guts screaming that there was someone watching you. Not just you in particular, but the three of you. You heard him speak, but what he said was unclear.

"Sorry, did you say something, Tasuku?"

"Oh, I was just mumbling. Don't worry about it.

"Three orders of egg drop soup. Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, thank you!"

"Enjoy your meal!"

Tsumugi immediately began to eat his soup even though it was still hot. His face melted into pure bliss as he felt the delicious components sliding down his throat.

"It's so good." He commented, masking his elation.

"It really is!" You added, taking quick slurps from your spoon. The soup itself tasted rich in flavor; It wasn't too runny, nor was it too starchy.

"It tastes okay to me."

"That's so disrespectful, Tasuku." You jokingly said with a mocking tone. "This soup legitimately changed my life. I wish I could have it everyday, along with curry."

"You somehow managed to sneak curry into the conversation again, huh?" He sighed, smiling at the way you laughed afterward.

Tasuku continued to consume his soup while observing how you and Tsumugi were practically worshipping the soup. He decided to ignore the eerie feeling building in the pit of his stomach gnawing at him alive.

Maybe it was just the soup.

-

Friday.

"Hurry up. We don't have all day."

"Gee, you don't have to be so mean about it!"

"I told you to make it quick. We have to get back in town because we have another meeting to attend to."

You and Sakyo just got out of a business meeting outside of Veludo Way. It was regarding a sponsorship for the Autumn Troupe's next play. Sakyo, the greatest cheapskate and money-pinching Sakyo, was more than willing to accompany you to the next town over if it meant saving the company tens of thousands worth of yen. As long as it involved finances, the blond always needed to be a part of it.

"I know that, but we need to grab lunch before we head to the next meeting. It's bad to miss out on meals, you know! Come on, we'll just grab something from this store and rush back to Veludo Way."

Sakyo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but you did have a point. He was also feeling the hunger starting to rise inside of him. It was already lunchtime by the time you guys finished with the first meeting of the day, and he didn't really have a proper breakfast earlier.

You walked into this quaint little restaurant on the side of the road owned by a lovely old couple.

"Good afternoon, may I help you with anything?" The old lady asked warmly.

You felt your heart soften, "Is it possible to get two yakiniku bento boxes to go?"

She smiled, "Of course, dearie. They'll be right out."

"She seems nice!" You whispered to Sakyo, who was sitting across from you.

"She reminds me of you."

"Eh? Don't tell me I'm already aging! I don't wanna be like you yet!"

"I can and will leave you here."

"Eh, but seriously, how?"

Sakyo sighed exasperatedly. "She... sounds nice. Lovely, even. She just has a nice smile and it reminds me of how nice you are when you talk to other people."

"S-Sakyo, is that really you? Who are you? Are you an alien? How are you being so honest right now?"

"I'm going back to Veludo Way without you.

"Hey, I'm kidding!" You pouted.

"Two yakiniku bento boxes to go?" An old man, presumably the husband of the lady they talked to, walked over to you two and handed you the bag of bento boxes.

"Ah, thank you!" You bowed before taking the bag from his hands. You took your wallet out to pay, but Sakyo already left money in the box where you put your payment.

"Hey, I can-"

"Consider it my treat. You'll be working hard today, after all." For a brief second, he gave you a warm smile. However, it was quickly replaced by his usual scowl. "Now hurry up and let's go."

"Geez, I was just about to call you cute as well!

"I am not cute, _____."

As you two were walking out of the restaurant, the old couple gave you a fond smile.

"We were like that too when we were younger."

"Mhm. They look good together, don't you think?"

When you got back to the car, you began to snack on the onigiri part of your bento. You didn't notice how Sakyo's eyes were glaring daggers into the figure who was idly sitting on his motorcycle just a good few meters away from the car.

The figure was wearing a denim jacket and a black helmet, but he could see a few tufts of brown hair sticking out from above the nape of his neck.

His hand grasped the steering wheel in a tight grip until his knuckles turned pale. What was he feeling? Anxiety? Hostility?

The sensation of being... followed?

His mind was racing at the thought, but he decided to rid the negativity filling his consciousness to the brim.

"Sakyo, here's your onigiri." Your voice snapped him out of his daze, and he shot you a small smile.

"Thanks. Let's head back to town now."

"Mhm!"

Seeing the pure innocence, joy, and trust in your smile made him content. He wanted to protect you and your smile forever.

If only he could.

-

Saturday.

You woke up earlier than usual because you promised Itaru that you'd go with him to the game store down the street since today was the release day of the new game he'd been itching to buy.

You sat up to stretch and noticed that Omi was in your room.

"Gah!" You gasped, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. "Omi?!"

He gave you a warm smile, "Oh, good morning! You're finally up. Sorry for barging in like this, I just wanted to call you over for breakfast."

"Th-Thanks for waking me up but um, do you mind? I'm still kinda in my nightwear." You blushed, knowing that your bra was still unhooked.

Omi's eyes darkened for a brief moment, but it was gone as soon as he blinked. It was replaced by the usual hazel eyes that gave you the warmest and kindest looks.

"I'm sorry! I'll be waiting for you outside." He then left your room, shutting the door behind him without making a sound.

"Jeez, Omi." You muttered to yourself. You quickly hooked your bra together then changed into a more decent t-shirt, appropriate enough for the other boys in the company to see you without being flustered or bewildered out of their minds. Seriously, Azami acts as if he's never seen a girl's shoulders before, what's up with that?

You tied your hair in a ponytail and went out of your room to head over to the kitchen where a bunch of familiar platters were waiting for you.

"Oh, wow, isn't this quite a... variety for breakfast?" You spoke, careful with your words. You always appreciated Omi for making food for the company, but the dishes he served this particular Saturday morning seemed like a mishmash of different food combinations and you just couldn't put your finger on why the food looked and smelled so familiar to you.

"Dig in, my dearest director." He replied, with his back facing you. It seemed as though he was still preparing something by the sink.

You took a seat and viewed the selection he prepared for breakfast.

Curry. Delicious, by the way.

Yakiniku.

Kani Salad.

Egg drop soup.

Crepes.

"Hey, didn't I..." You whispered to yourself, finally realizing that the meals he prepared for you were all meals you've eaten that week.

How did he know? Did the guys tell him about it?

"Well? Aren't you going to eat? You've been enjoying these all week, why not relive the moments one more time? I made sure to prepare them just the way you like them, after all." Omi's voice was laced with something... unknown. Was it possessiveness? He didn't sound like the warm and loving Omi you knew and love.

This Omi was... dangerous. He was terrifying. His back was still facing you, but you could feel a threatening aura from his broad shoulders because of how they looked so stiff.

He turned around and you froze upon seeing his half-lidded eyes. There was a crazed look in his pupils, something that reeked of want, lust, and obsession.

"You had curry with Chikage on Monday. Marshmallow crepes with Juza on Tuesday. Kani Salad with Kumon and Kazunari on Wednesday. Egg drop soup with Tsumugi and Tasuku on Thursday. Then you had a yakiniku bento box with Sakyo yesterday, right?"

Your eyes widened. The boys were pretty aware of the places you went to and who you went there with, but how in the world did Omi know everything?

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to go out with them anymore. I'm the only one who gets to cook for you from now on, okay?" Omi took steps closer to you. You wanted to scream, to run out of the room, to call for help from anyone, but you felt as if you were paralyzed with fear.

This wasn't Omi anymore.

He stopped when he was directly in front of you from across the table, and you could see his thin lips twist into a sadistic smile.

"Dig in, my precious director."

[halcyonstorm]

my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:

Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.

At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.

Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.

“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”

Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that. 

“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”

“Yeah, we can,” he replied.

“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”

-

At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day. 

After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.

Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.

Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race. 

“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”

With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.

He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them. 

Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.

Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free. 

It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.

Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house. 

After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?

 After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.

On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.

-

“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room. 

“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.

After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.

As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.

“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.

“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name. 

“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”

“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.

“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.

“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...” 

“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.

“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue. 

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.

“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.

“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.

“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.

“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.

Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.

“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”

He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.

“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”

“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”

“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.

“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”

The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.

Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.

“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.

“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.

“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.

He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”

He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.

“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke. 

“Thank you for being there for me.”

At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush. 

“I’ll always be here for you.” 

He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

[sebbybooks]

Never Mine

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

Part One

"With my dog as my witness, to whoever was riding my ass if they didn't back off my bumper I was going to stop in the middle of the road and rip their windshield wipers completely off!"

That type of anger coiled around me like a snake, because there was nothing that bugged me more than someone driving bumper to bumper. The long and exasperated breath I just released helped ease the tension out of my body temporarily. Just in time for reason to settle in. Though in reality it wasn't like I was actually going to jump out of my car and confront this road demon. Who clearly needed to take a course on etiquettes of the road. What I did know was that whoever was behind the wheel of the car had headlights that were so blinding I am sure extraterrestrials in space could spot them.

Trying to find the calm in the situation I focused on the road ahead of me. What little road I could see for that matter. Which wasn't exactly much. I had checked the forecast earlier in the day with the report of it showing that there was to be only clear and blue skies. By the amount of downpour before me you would think there was a tear in the sky if that was how rain fell. I just needed to hang tight for a few more miles until I reached my exit to stop for the night.

I had been driving for nine consecutive hours and it wasn't until the third hour I realized I was not cut out for long distance driving. The plane ticket I turned down from my father was starting to look like a missed opportunity. I opted out for Cooper's sake. I just rescued the little guy a few short weeks ago and I didn't have the heart to leave him alone so soon.

Despite having only six more hours of this painful drive I needed out of my car. A hot shower and a bed was calling my name like a siren's call was to a dazed sailor at sea. I was fervidly drawn to it. Granted, I wasn't exactly going the speed limit in my own defense. Simply because I chose to be a cautious driver not a careless one unlike the dip shit behind me. Cooper and I were going to get to Sonoma, California in one piece if I had anything to do with it! I had no intention to speed in the rain even if it annoyed the person behind me. After all I was driving down a one lane road there was literally nothing else I could do but drive forward.

Taking a glance up at my trusty Garmin my gps projected that at this rate I wouldn't make it to my hotel for another hour and a half. Ahead of me the sky was starting to look like a terrifying shade of gray and to top it off the dismal weather was becoming more and more hard to drive in. I could barely see the paint on the pavement. My defrosters seemed to have given up on me as I began to notice that my rearview mirror fogged up as though it was twilight hour.

I needed to pull over to try to wait out the heavy rainfall. The only problem was that I did not know where I was nor could I see where the road even had an end. The cheap gas station coffee was starting to wear off and the pep talks could no longer motivate me. The words of encouragement quickly transitioned into self deprecating quips of "I can not fucking do this!"

I was too far from home to turn back now and hearing a lecture from my dad despite being well beyond the ages of even receiving one, certainly would not stop him from scolding at my absence. I am more than certain that fiancée number three would not mind if I missed their prenuptial celebration. Especially if arriving on time meant I would be showing up dismembered. It was official I was going to die in this storm.

All of sudden like I called upon a bad omen my tiny Kia Forte jerked forward. I thought I accidentally stomped on the gas pedal too hard without realizing it. When it happened again I knew exactly what it was. Clearly the driver had mistaken this for a game of bumper cars. I laid the palm of my hand on the center of my steering wheel and relentlessly pressed my horn. Not sure what that was going to necessarily ward off , but I had to try something in the efforts that they would leave me alone.

Cooper's head shot up from his bed in the backseat. He looked just as displeased and annoyed as I felt. Why wouldn't they slow down? Is the question I could not figure out. I don't know if it was all the Stephen King that I read, but my paranoia was increasing as I started to settle on the possibility that they were now following me.

Maybe I was tired?

Maybe my imagination truly was getting the best of me?

Or maybe whoever that person was also suddenly decided to take the same random exit as I was taking.

I didn't think. I veered my car off to the right and got on the first breakaway from this seemingly endless road. I had no idea where I was headed at this point and neither did my Garmin. It made multiple attempts to reroute itself, but even that could not locate where I was. I took an unexpected detour by driving off into the middle of nowhere with a now stalker in my midsts.

Adrenaline now filling up my bloodstream. I gave my steering wheel the death grip and drove as fast as the tire tracks of my car would guide me. On a midsize billboard to my left I saw a logo for a gas station and a non franchised bed & breakfast saying it was right up the road. I was taking a chance by trusting that the establishment was clean and safe. I just needed to go where a crowd of people would be. The battery on my phone was likely dead and yes this was now becoming the opening sequence for a King novel. I'd laugh if my heart wasn't fluttering as fast a hummingbird's wing.

I managed to make out lights ahead as I neared the petrol station first. However, it just about looked abandoned. The dim white lights flickered around the desolate parking lot. I saw only two freight trucks parked side by side and I immediately thought

. . .hell no.

I kept driving forward in the hopes that the bed and breakfast sign wasn't last updated in the early nineties. I nearly combusted from relief when I finally saw it. Several cars and mini vans lined up with people inside of them probably doing the same thing that I was. I didn't plan on staying the night I just planned on staying long enough to hide out from the rain and from the trouble that still followed my trails.

Luckily there were free parking spaces close to the entrance. It was still hard to make out what the place truly looked like. From my view in the car the rain made it look like it was a melting oil painting. In a swift motion I put my car in park, turned my ignition off, reached in the back to grab Cooper and grabbed ahold of my purse in the other arm. I bolted out of my car for the door.

It felt as though I was running through a hurricane. I was completely drenched. I could barely keep my eyes from closing as I ran up the slippery steps in my worn Toms praying that I wouldn't eat concrete. There was an awning over the door that offered relief from the storm's cruel embrace . Looking down at the fuzzy brown welcome mat I noticed a quote was scribbled out on it.

"some beautiful paths

can't be discovered without getting lost."

As I reached for the doorknob I couldn't help but notice the intricate design. I'm aware of how wrong the timing was to fawn over something so utterly mundane. I just could not conceal the fact that I was a sucker for antiques roadshow and architectural designing. Growing up with a dad that built and reconstructed vintage furniture one might pick up on the interest. It was a white privacy doorknob with hand painted roses, with a Victorian long plated silver keyhole. The sound of distant car door slamming snapped me out of my daze. I turned my head in the direction of the sound low and behold it was that same car. Crazy thing is I didn't see anyone by it.

Instinct guided me forward considering my brain was scrambling with worry. I ushered myself inside and it was as though I fell into a pink wonderland. From the pink carpet to the multicolored pink pinstripe wallpaper. Hot pink roses seemed to have been the main theme for the lobby. There were various black and silver picture frames with photos of pink roses hanging on every wall. On every surface my eyes could catch, red and pink plastic roses sat in circular olive green vases. It was certainly....something. I thought I was doing the most logical thing by coming inside, but it quickly dawned on me that I saw no one around.

"Hello?" I cautiously called out.

I paced myself as I walked up to the front desk, simultaneously looking around for any potential red flags. My right arm was going numb, my little guy was tiny but felt like I was lugging around a sack of potatoes. I wandered away from the desk to poke my head around the place. There was a entry way that led to a dinning area with a handful of seats adorned with of course pink table settings. I was standing next to a spiral staircase to what I assumed led to the rooms. There was only one door that held a sign for a bathroom. Perhaps there was a power outlet I could use long enough to charge my phone to call my dad.

The same door I walked in swung open and droplets of rain was blown in by the wind. A shiver rolled down my spine, sending a myriad of sparks that shot through my body. Turning around a strange sensation filled the pits of my stomach. It felt like butterflies and moths had taken up space there. Excitement and fear. I just stood completely mute like I had never seen a man before. Well to my defense I hadn't seen ones that look like him in my town. Without even seeing my reflection I had an inkling as to the state of my appearance. I was utterly perplexed by how he pulled off the kissed by an ocean look. To embarrass myself further of course my dog chose that moment to shake water off of his fur on to me.

"Really Coop?" I tried to hide my disgust, but he got it around the corner of my mouth! The good looking stranger offered a half smile that probably pitied my overall state.

"Is the black Kia parked out yours?" Even his voiced oozed sex appeal. He angled his frame so he could face me. There was about an arm length of distance between us. His eyes practically bore into my face I suppose waiting for me to say something. Must have been the buzzcut, the facial scuff, or the fact that some creep was still parked outside waiting to do who knows what. But my thoughts were not where they should have been.

I blinked and straightened up my posture. "Yeah why?" I finally answered.

It was a causal question, yet it felt completely random like there was something else to it.Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.The silence was so thick it would take a hacksaw to cut through.

"Well I'll be damned! I didn't think I would get to see you until after you got back from your trip in California." A woman most likely in her late sixties came rushing down the stairs for him. She draped her arms around his body clearly taking him by surprise. Her cotton candy colored pink bouffant made up for most of her height. Sebastian returned her embrace. Although it looked extremely awkward considering he stared at me the whole time and I stood there watching.

"Moe's old truck didn't give you too much trouble did it?" She asked.

"No it still got some life left in it." Sebastian's jaw went slack and he looked from her to me once more. Only this time he was looking at me with a cold glare. Realization suddenly crashed into me like a wild horse.

[rockthistowninsideout]

DigiWeek 2021

Day 1 - Beginning

The Story

part 2 part 3 part 4

   “Bye Miko, bye Taki!” someone shouted just as our bus pulled up in front of us. We both turned to see Matsuda waving before he climbed into his mother’s car. We waved back, then got onto the bus. After the driver had greeted us we walked to our usual spot at the back of the bus.

   “Phew”, what a day!”, Taki exclaimed, flopping down beside me. She shook back her long black hair and leaned her head on my shoulders.

   I nodded. “You’re saying something.” I slid deeper down into the seat, checking my reflection in the mirror, ruffling my short unruly black hair dyed blonde a bit more before closing my eyes.

   Taki and I had been friends since kindergarten and we were now in eleventh grade together. And today had been truly hell. One test had chased after the other and in P.E. we had to run laps all period long. Ugh. When it came to ball sports I was always aboard – and on top of my class – but athletics were my armageddon. I was just glad it was over now.

   As the neighbourhood passed by the window and we didn’t have to get off for the next ten stops there was plenty of time for a nap. I took a deep breath, settled my head on Taki’s, and already started daydreaming.

____

   While Miko and Taki were sleeping peacefully side by side, the world around them slowly transformed. Passengers vanished, lampposts became trees, the road turned into a grassy pathway, and the once municipal bus changed into a rural area trolley running on an invisible contact wire.

____

   “Ssh, Miko, wake up. Wake up!”

   I was rudely shaken awake by Taki. As the sunlight filtered through my half-closed eyelids, I jolted, immediately wide awake. “What is it? Have we missed our spot?”

   “No.” Taki’s voice was suddenly all but a whisper. “I think it’s worse.”

   I looked around but I had a hard time processing what I saw. We sat in an old-fashioned trolley that was empty except for us. It stood on a lush meadow full of colourful nodding flowers. Something moved between them and when I squinted I saw two, well, creatures approaching. I didn’t have a better word for it now. As they came closer I could distinguish one of them as some sort of green, upright standing turtle wearing a sturdy hat – and was that a ball like that of a computer mouse on his belly? The other creature beside him was dragon-like, but with yellow fur instead of scales, and wore intricately decorated black armour.

   After we had gotten outside, I protectively stood before before my friend, not actually hoping that I could defeat the creatures but it was the gesture that counted. Taki thankfully pressed against me, taking hold of my jacket.

   “Finally you’ve come!”, the turtle squealed, apparently with joy, and opened its arms as if to embrace us.

   “Yes, we waited so long”, the dragon echoed the sentiment with a deep voice. It stood upright now and held its claws up in the universally understood gesture of peace.

   Yet I wasn’t ready to give up my protective stance. “Who are you?”, I demanded to know in my most commanding voice – which actually was quite impressive. I was six feet tall and had to shop in the men’s section because female clothing didn’t fit my broad shoulders.

   My demeanour had the desired effect: The creatures shrank back. In a defensive voice the dragon said: “We do not wish to harm you! We are Kamemon - “, he indicated the turtle, “and Ryudamon. You are here in the Digital World.”

   “Uh…”, was all I managed to say. Faintly, a bell rang in my head at the words “Digital World”. Something about a humongous bird and some sort of dinosaur wreaking havoc in Tokyo about a decade ago. Shortly after, my family moved out of the city to Atami. I had been maybe four or five at that time.

   “We need your help”, the turtle, I mean, Kamemon chimed in, “a gruesome force is about to take over this part of the Digital World.”

   “A gruesome force?”, Taki finally dared to partake in the conversation.

   “Yeah. I don’t know what that is but it sounds evil, right? Ryudamon says that all the time.” Kamemon laughed and hit Ryudamon amicably on the shoulder.

   It rolled its eyes before it said “Please check your pockets.”

   I frowned but both Digimon – I gathered that’s what their species was called – nodded encouragingly. So I patted my jacket and pants until I found a circular device with a screen and several buttons. Mine was dazzling golden like the sun while Taki’s was a bright lunar silver. A picture of Kamemon flashed on the display of mine. It waved and the image waved, too.

   “So you always know where I am when we get separated. Because we’re partners now.” While Taki and I had been checking the devices the Digimon had dared to come closer. Kamemon extended a hand. Ryudamon did the same in front of Taki.

   “I am honoured to fight at your side from now on”, it announced gravely.

   Taki and I exchanged a look until she nodded. “Partners we are then”, she said.

 Kamemon and Ryudamon

  When and how did you first discover Digimon?

   Judging from the date it aired on German TV (March 7 1999) - and assuming I started watching it right then - I was barely 3 1/2 years old. I don’t know if that makes any sense or if my parents even allowed that so I can’t vouch for this to be the truth. Though if I only watched a re-run it couldn’t have been a lot later, maybe a year. Because I started collecting the Digimon comic magazines that the German publishing house Dino released from issue 13 (Angemon vs. Devimon) onwards, and issue 15 was released on May 23 2001 (and their story lines were much behind the storylines from the episodes on TV - Issue 14 introduced the 02 kids). That means I was 5 1/2 years old - which, thinking about it, does make a lot more sense than 3 1/2 to get invested in animes and comics. 

   To make a long story short, it probably was the summer of 2000 and I was about 4 years old.

[neocity-sarai]

Heartstrings

❂ reader x mark lee (soulmate au, inspired by the film “Weathering With You”)

❂ alerts: fluff, angst, self-blame, mentions of death, drinking, making out, mentions of the dreamies, happy belated birthday to the greatest rapper, laugher, and watermelon-eating fiend ever! this was 40 pages- i’m so sorry

❂ song rec: raining in london by lana condor and anthony de la torre

Soulmates. Weather. Uncontrollable and unpredictable- yet they control your mood and your fate. It’s been this way ever since you’ve been born, even since the beginning of your parents’ time. Your mother and father called it a force of nature- a phenomenon when you’re connected to someone like an invisible string, a syncopation of voices, thoughts, and feelings. Luckily for them, they fell in love when they were just college students and miraculously became soulmates. You always thought it was lucky that they met and were destined to be together from that moment, forming a family by having you in the future. It made you think of the what ifs. What if they didn’t meet or if your mother had someone else when your father was around? What if they loved each other but weren’t soulmates? What if you ceased to exist? It makes you shiver when you think about it. 

During middle school, you vividly remember a collection of memories. Happy ones and unfortunately, not so good ones. Your father had died when you were 14, a drunk driver had recklessly crashed into the family van on the highway when your father was driving to work. Even 4 years after, your mom became extremely frail at heart from the grief. She always had a wine glass in her hand, sobbing every night when she’d enter every room of your family’s home. You were just a kid when she told you she saw your father on every wall and every photograph. She missed him. She told you that she wasn’t able to heal so quickly. Understanding, you rubbed her back on the floor of their bathroom, dumping the remaining liquid out of her smeary glass. She just sobbed into your arms, shakes rupturing her entire body. It made you feel broken and somber seeing your own mother like this. Still, you had to be strong for her. 

The weather outside was cold and dark. Rain crashed down on the window pane like a series of dashes and lines. The clouds seemed angry, lightning flashing like shooting stars and thunder roaring like a legion of lions. It was extreme and powerful, water flooding the streets and your front yard. You were sure the peonies that you had planted with your father were now washed away in broken stems. It seemed like you had an ocean of water outside and inside your mother’s bathroom. The feeling of hopelessness did not stop. That’s when you heard a pin drop. It was a subtle but also a loud sound, something possible to ignore- it was the sound of a realization: your father always loved the rain. No matter how chilly it was, he always enticed you to dance in the rain as he held his arms out, a grin plastered on his face. His smile always stretched from ear to ear. It’s something you never forgot. 

You wiped your mom’s tears with your thumbs, “Mom?”

Your mother coughed, her eyes red and puffy, “Yes, honey?”

“Can I show you something?”

“What is it?”

“Just trust me.”

You took her by the hand, leading her through your dark and empty house. You made way to your backyard door, opening up to your water-logged lawn and a cloudy sky. Everything was a dull grey but was touched with splotches of periwinkle blues, it can’t be all that bad. Letting go of your mother’s hand, you begin to advance into the middle of the grass, spinning and twirling as hard as you can. You spread your arms out before sticking your tongue out to the rain above, droplets cold and fresh. You screamed out to the sky, “I love you dad!”

Your mother watched you with her lips pressed into a thin line, leaning on the pillar of your roof. You motioned to her, “Come on, mom- maybe dad’s up there watching.”

She pauses for a moment, reluctant of what might happen if she indulges in the thought. She decides that there’s nothing to lose. There’s nothing to do but own it anyway. She flies into your arms, your figure supporting her weight. You hear her sigh out when she feels the soft patter on her cheeks. Small water droplets litter her eyelashes, the cold soothing the puffiness of her face. She shuts her eyes for a bit, relishing in the icy, chilling feeling. Both of your shoes are flooded and covered in mud but it doesn’t matter. For the next several hours, you both laugh as loud as you can, running around your backyard. You both lay side by side on the wet grass, the green tufts under your fingers. Your mom turns her head towards you, smiling, “We will be okay.”

You nod, nuzzling your nose into your mom’s shoulder, “I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You hate the world. You hate how unfair it is. You wish you kept your word. That night, your mother had fallen asleep on the couch. Even though you had insisted on running a bath, your mother refused out of exhaustion. That one second has landed you and your mother in the hospital. The doctor had told you that your mother had come down with a severe case of pneumonia- it’s already scarred the lining of her lungs. The damage is irreversible. He’s also told you that your mother isn’t likely to survive due to her past conditions of frail health. You sit in your mother’s hospital room, clutching her hand as she sleeps. You think to yourself: Hasn’t the world taken so much from you already? Haven’t you experienced too many sacrifices? Your mind shifts into shadows. If you hadn’t suggested going out in the rain, would your mother be better? If your mother dies, isn’t it your fault? Soulmates? Do they even exist? You hate the idea of waiting for someone, pining for somebody that might never show up. The world is silly. You cry into her hand until you can’t breath. You let go of it, making your way to the bathroom down the hall. Every doctor and patient that stares at you looks like a blur in your vision and your heart feels like it’s going to explode from it all. You can't stop rewinding your life like a broken movie reel, visions of your mother and you and your dad. 

“Whoa there, slow down-”

A pair of arms catches you and an unfamiliar voice makes you bite your tongue on accident. When you look up, you’re met with the view of a boy- a cute one at that. You’re not in the mood to compliment him, to say anything. Still, through your blurry tears, you are wary of him. He seems like a boy that you could get to know but one that could wear the face of an innocent but actually be the devil in disguise. He’s too pretty to be average. His black locks are the color of ash, his eyes are dark and sparkly with innocence. Oh yes, he has sharp features too. His jaw and his cheeks are carved like seared gems, his eyebrows thin lines below his bangs. He wears a pair of denim jeans and a striped sweater. You take note of the annoyingly polished tag pinned on his sweater: “Mark Lee” it reads.

“Are you alright?” the boy asks again. 

You just stare up at him, tears running down your cheeks like foggy waterfalls. You can’t smell, see, or feel. All you can do is lightly shake your head. Weirdly, he seems like he understands, “Can I help you find someone or a room? I’m a volunteer at this hospital.”

You shake your head again, a little too violently. You sniffle, your voice sounds small, “I just want somewhere that’s away from people.”

Apologetically, Mark nods. “I may be able to help. I just need to change first, yeah?”

“No, I- it’s alright. I don’t-t need help.”

Mark waves his hands around, “It’ll only take a few seconds, I promise.”

Why should you trust a stranger? Your mom always reminded you that your father was a stranger to her at first. Sometimes, you never know where it leads. You check the time on your phone before turning to see the direction of where your mom’s room is. 

“Only a few minutes.”

You let Mark lead you to the bathrooms. He turns to you, frantic and he seems a little nervous, “Give me a few seconds. Don’t leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

When Mark comes out, he’s dressed in scrubs. He wears a grey shirt and matching pants, his tag now on the pocket of it. He looks like one of those hot nurses that helps the pregnant woman who’s screaming her lungs out in Grey’s Anatomy. You don’t say that to him though. He walks with you, “Follow me- uh.. what’s your name?”

“I-It’s y/n.” After passing a series of corridors, Mark unlocks some obscure door that’s a little ways down, shoving his ring of keys into the lock, “I come up here to think, maybe it could help you.”

“Is this even legal? Couldn’t you get fired for letting me up here?”

Mark rubs the back of his neck, his eyes on you, “Well yes, but I think you’re worth it.”

You make a face at him,“Why? I’m a stranger?”

“Not to be all sappy but my supervisor told me that in the medical business, you always have to take chances- this me taking a chance.”

You scoff, “Thank you for your charity, I’ll be going up now.”

Mark’s eyes widen at your brazen attitude, “I’ll wait down here. Just knock on the door when you’re ready to come down.”

When Mark opens the door, all there is a concrete staircase. But when you emerge to the top of the staircase, it’s everything in one place. Your breath hitches in your throat when you see it. It’s a rooftop. The sun sets on the city’s horizon, silver clouds rolling in to threaten waves of rain. Lightning flashes in it again, thunder booming just like that day. You walk around the rooftop, watching how high up you are and how the skyscrapers touch the vastness of the sky. When you turn around, you see something peculiar. A japanese-like shrine stands in your view, decorated with hanging lines of colorful lanterns and photos. Making your way to it, you recognize that the photos must be of victims that have died at the hospital. Flowers and bells hang from the red-painted posts. Under the arch, sits a small fountain that’s been collecting rain. It looks so old, covered in moss and grime. Though, if you peer hard enough, there are names inscribed into the stone. You step forward under the arch of the shrine, the bells ringing in the wind. But, when you do, it doesn't feel normal. It almost feels like all of your emotions and senses have been amplified. Somehow, you can’t hear anything. You can’t hear the twinkle of the bells or any wind. When you stare down at the fountain, you don’t believe it when you see water droplets floating upwards. You use your finger to touch the droplets, the small spheres floating into the sky in a stream. Gravity doesn’t work like this, does it? You try to grab the water droplets, they still continue to slip out of your hands and into the air above. How is this possible?

You dip your finger into the rain water that sits in the stone bowl, ripples forming. Something shocks your veins like electricity, it makes you clutch your heart through your chest. What was that? You run out from under the archway, suspicious of it all. Is it some sort of prank machine? Either way, you want to get back to your mother. You run out from under the archway, one prayer couldn’t hurt. It's silly, you don’t go to church much. Still, you clasp your hand together and you pray as hard as you can. You pray you can walk in the sun with your mom again, that your father is happy, and for everything you’ve ever known.

Opening your eyes, you run back down to the staircase before swinging the door open. You spot Mark tripping, his legs are a tangled mess, “Whoa- what the-”

You eye him suspiciously, “Why’d you lean against the door? I was clearly going to open it..”

“I thought you were going to knock! You just caught me off-guard is all.”

Despite having just met, Mark nudges you, “So, how was it?”

You eye him again, wary of him, “I’ll give you credit for the view- it was beautiful. I wanted to ask though, what was that shrine up there?”

Mark stops walking, cocking his eyebrow up, “What? There was a shrine?”

You stop walking as well, “The big red archway, fountain in the center? Colorful lanterns and photos? Can’t miss it unless you’re blind?”

Mark laughs nervously, his nose scrunching in mock-pain, “My eye-sight isn’t the greatest so..”

“There’s no way you could have missed it, I literally saw it the moment I got up there.”

“Maybe it’s new- I was just there last week and didn’t see anything like that. Maybe you need to check your eyes?”

“I have 20/20 vision, thank you very much.”

Mark raises his hands up in mock-surrender, “Yes sir- I mean, mam’’”

By the time you make it back to the hallway where you had run into Mark, you turn to him, “Well, this has been interesting. Goodbye, stranger.”

Mark giggles, “You know my name though- I know yours. Are we really strangers still?”

“Yes. We met like 10 minutes ago.”

You notice the pink blush that creeps onto Mark’s cheeks, his words coming out it a stuttering ramble, “I-I’d really l-like to ask-”

Before Mark can ask you his question, probably for your number, you're interrupted by your mother’s nurse running out to you both, “Y/n! I’ve been looking for you, it’s your mother. You need to come now.” Her facial expression does not look good.

You nod, “Bye Mark, thanks for uh- your time.”

Mark opens his mouth, “Y-yeah, no problem, uh- y/n, yeah- I’ll see you around?”

You follow the nurse, “Maybe.”

Later that night, your mom had passed away. And two years later, you had blamed yourself for it every single day. Not only did your prayer not work, your mind was absent of the boy who helped you onto the roof. You couldn’t didn’t want to even remember his name or why you had run into him.

2 years later 

>I wonder if it’s raining in London

I wonder if the moon looks the same where you are

Still think about the sound of you humming

Singing to nothing in your car

Ever since your mom passed away, everything changed. You started to live with your aunt in her cottage home that was little ways out of the city. She had a rose garden out front, white and red bushes overgrown on the picket fence. Your aunt promised to invest in your parents’ property but thought it’d be good for you to spend the summer at the cottage. You could classify it as a time of healing, though most nights were spent thinking about your parents. You would spend the summer helping your aunt cook meals, plant flowers, and play with her beagle named Mosby in the wheat fields. At least, you weren’t entirely alone.

Eventually, it was time for you to apply for universities- a possibility that wasn’t even your orbit at all. Even so, strange things kept happening. Even when it was raining, no matter where you stepped- the weather changed in an almost too quick of an instant. If you wanted it to be sunny, the moment you stepped outside, the rays would emerge out of the obsidian clouds. If you wanted snow to play in with Mosby, it would snow even in the late June summers. It was odd, like the weather gods were at your beckon and call. This phenomenon only happened after that day you touched the fountain’s water, only after you walked under the archway of the shrine. You decided that there was no use fighting it. Of course, you were bewildered with your newfound power- though after a while, there was nothing to do but embrace it. There was something that your mother and father taught you since you were a child: help those who could be helped. Going around the city for errands, you observed people. For instance, a woman was telling her friend in the grocery store how disappointing that it would be raining during her baby’s 1st birthday. After collecting your items, you walked outside, clasping your hands together. You said in your mind, “Let us have sunshine for today.”

And of course, the weather forecast had announced that there would suddenly be no chance of rain. You could imagine the woman’s joy. You saw a young girl- about the same age as you running past you on the street as she tripped over her heels and fumbled in her tight office outfit, grumbling at how hard the rain was coming down. You wished for sunshine for her too. It was like the gods gave you a gift and it was your duty to use it for good- it’s what your parents would have wanted. Towards the end of the 2nd year, you told yourself that you wanted a change in scenery. It was time to do something worthwhile for yourself. Luckily, you got into the university of your choice and were on your way to moving to campus. There’s this erratic beating in your chest. Is it excitement? Anxiety? Fear? Probably a mix of all 3. As every coming of age movie, it’s all the same. Your aunt had helped you move into your dorm room, reassuring that you could come home or to the cottage whenever you wished. Thanking her, you press a kiss to her cheek before rearranging your boxes of belongings. Perhaps, this was the start of a new chapter. 

First day of class

First period is english 101. The university looks nice, it’s very castle-like with high-rising towers and turrets made of carved stone. Students sit in the courtyards in their friend circles, coffees in their hands as they sit under the large juniper trees. Though it is a sunny day, the forecast shows that heavy rains will stir into a monsoon. You keep note of that. Walking into the lecture hall, you take a seat towards the middle row- not too close to be picked on but not too far where you can’t hear. The professor is some old guy who’s been studying philosophy for 3000 years and you hope that you don't fall asleep before he’s done. You rest your chin in your hand, twirling your pencil on top of the desk surface. Suddenly, the entrance door bursts open with a loud noise, causing the hundreds of the students in the room to turn their heads. A boy stands there, he drops his books recklessly. The professor pauses his lecture to lower his glasses, “Mr. Lee? You’re tardy, son.”

The boy scratches the back of his neck, doe eyes pointed at the man, “Sorry Professor Norman, the rain held me up.”

“Go take a seat.”

You hear the girls behind you giggle from the sight. All you knew was that he looked oddly familiar to you. The boy climbs the stairs, standing on his tiptoes to look for an empty seat. When he spots one, a grin is plastered on his face as he makes his way nearer and nearer to you. You realize that there’s an empty seat right next to you. It’s painfully embarrassing as you watch the boy fumble his way behind other students, murmuring I’m sorrys and pardon mes. One of his notebooks falls out of his worn down jansport backpack, a girl batting her eyelashes when she hands it back to him. Smiling charming at her, he whispers, “Thanks for that.”

Finally, after 4 years, the boy manages to make it next to you. You scoff when he accidentally swings his backpack into the side of your arm, “Oh god, I’m so sorry- “

You nod curtly, “You’re fine.”

Now that you can get a closer look at him, you feel sweat bead up on your back when you realize where you’ve seen him. It’s that boy- the one the night your mom died. He reaches his hand out, “Hi there, my name’s Mark. Mark Lee.”

You stare at him for a bit before reluctantly taking his hand, “Y/n.”

As much as you don’t want to admit, Mark looks as endearing as ever. His black  locks are still the same, eyes shining from the dim lighting. He smells of the sweet rain, water droplets wetting his hair and his shoulders. 

>I wonder if you look any different

And would I see the years that have passed on your eyes?

There’s still a little part of me missing

I no longer recognize

Mark turns to you, his eyebrow quirked when he says your name on his tongue, “Have we met before? You seem familiar?”

You shake your head, “I don’t know anyone by the name of Mark so, I guess you’re the first?” Why did you lie to him?

Mark nods, “Ah, I see.”

Mark ruffles the water out of his hair, opening his soaked notebook, “Ah shit, the rain got in my backpack.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “I can lend you some of mine?”

Mark’s eyes widen at you, you swear you can see a faint blush creeping on his cheeks, “R-really? I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“No need, here.” You proceed to tear some sheets out for Mark. His presence is kind of comforting- like some childhood friend. Wait, what? No- you barely know him. 

You and Mark listen to the rest of the lecture in silence. When it’s time to go, he zips up his backpack before turning to you. He’s extremely red now. He bites his bottom lip, “Hey, I um, I was wondering if we could exchange numbers? I still want to pay you back for the paper and you’re new right? If you’re not, don’t worry about it but I don’t know, I just in case you needed me-ah, never mi-”

Before Mark can turn away, you look at him, “I’d like that. I could use a friend- being a newbie and everything.”

With that, Mark lights up, “Wait, really?”

“Sure.” You hand your phone to him, “Pick a good emoji.”

Mark’s fingers fumble with your phone, catching it in time before almost dropping it. He chuckles nervously, “Don’t worry, I got it-”

You smile, you’re sure your cheeks hurt from it. 

“There you go Mark, you have my number now.”

“Cool. Good. Yeah.”

With that you wave him a curt goodbye, “See you around?”

Mark smiles back at you, teeth gleaming white in between his lips, “Yeah y/n, see you around.”

With that, you go home to your dorm room. When you look out the window before sleeping, you count how many droplets sit on the windowpane. The stormy skies angrily from swirls of obsidian and murky lavenders. You hope that Mark won’t be caught in the rain again tomorrow.

In class the next day, your professor assigns group projects during lecture. Because you happened to sit next to Mark, you were paired up together. You both didn’t mind though. Mark pulls out his notebook and fountain pen, yanking the cap off with his teeth, “So, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go over the project during lunch?” 

You nod at him, “That works for me.”

When class is over, you follow Mark to the university’s cafeteria. It’s teeming with students and professors, lunch hour is always chaotic. Mark points at an empty table by the window, “How about over there?”

Before you can answer him, many voices call Mark’s name. He swivels around to see a group of boys motioning him over to their table. He glances at them before waving them off in refusal. You nudge him slightly, “We can go say hi if you want, I don’t mind.”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in some parts, “Are you sure? I don’t want to take too much of your time?”

“Let’s go, your friends seem nice.”

Mark scoffs, “Please, they’re hardly my friends.”

When you both make your way to your table, you’re greeted by a series of hoots and hollers. Mark introduces each of them. He points at a taller boy, brunette, and as handsome as hollywood’s greatest movie stars, “This is Jeno.”

Jeno smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. You’re sure your heart made flips at that. The loudest boy is named Haechan, jostling Mark by squeezing his thigh jokingly, “Is this your girlfriend?” he asks. You and Mark simultaneously shake your heads, refusing Haechan’s teasing. The next is Renjun, he seems more stoic than the rest. Similar to him, a girl whose hair is the color of burgundy plums sits beside him. Freckles dot her face, contrasted to the blueness of her eyes- you have to admit, she’s very pretty. Still, Mark introduces her as Lana and when you introduce yourself, it’s like daggers are being shot through her eyes. You suspect it has to do with Mark being next to another girl. When you’re finished introducing yourself to everyone, Haechan lets out a burst of laughter, “Y/n’s so sweet, if you don’t take her then I will!” as he slaps Jeno’s shoulder, Jeno rolls his eyes at the boy. Mark stares him down, grabbing your hand, “Y/n and I have a project to work on, we’ll be going now.”

You shout out a quick nice to meet you back to them, your eyes shifting to Mark’s fingers around your wrist. You don’t say anything as you let him drag you to the library- your hand becoming a little clammy. You hope he doesn’t notice it.

Sitting at some empty table near the shelves, he turns back to you, “Sorry about that back there. They’re rambunctious. They must’ve made you uncomfortable right?”

You smile at him, shaking your head, “Not at all really, they seem fun. You’re very lucky.”

Mark’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, his eyes widening. You gesture to his fingers, “Mark, you’re still holding me?”

In a flash, Mark drops your hand, his palm flying to his mouth, “Oh god- I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize-”

You place your hands on his shoulders, “Mark. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He nods slowly, trying to fight the blush that creeps up his neck and his cheeks. He shakes it off, you realize how endearing he is. He sits down, opening up his philosophy books, “So, what should we do for the project?”

You twirl your pen in your hand, “Well, Professor’s prompt was we have to discover the secret of life right? What does that even mean?”

Mark knits his brows together, pouting his lips, “Good question. I think that’s what the assignment is- discovering it for ourselves?”

“How do we do that?”

“Let’s start making a bullet list. I do that when I’m weighing options.”

Mark starts to scribble on his notebook. “What does life mean to you?”

You look at him, your eyes instantly catching his. You have to look away. Life. Weather. Soulmates. Aspects of your world that you can’t fully understand. Your mouth feels dry. You think back to your parents, moments that you play in the dark by yourself, the things that you would do and experience but can’t. The words kind of tumble out from your lips, “Mark, do you believe in soulmates?”

Mark freezes. He sits in silence for a few seconds. He bites his lower lip, “It’s difficult to say. I mean, my parents are soulmates so I’ve just grown up thinking that I’ll have my own one day? But no, I don’t have anyone.”

You nod. You kind of mumble, “Yeah, I don’t have anyone either. I almost don’t want to believe in them.”

“Is there a reason why?”

“Not really, I just don’t get how two people can randomly become synched.” No, it’s because you’re afraid of love. You’re afraid of what will happen if you love someone so hard and they leave. 

“Ah, I see.”

You clear your throat, “Anyways, back to the prompt. What does life mean to you?”

“I think it could be a variety of things, my family, my friends, school? But I’m assuming that Professor doesn’t want generic answers. He said the creative category weighs the most points.”

And then it clicks in your head. Your gift- it’s what ties you back to your mom and your dad, seeing people happy when you are able to bend the weather to your will. You’ve never told anyone before. You thought people would look at you weird if you told them. Should you tell Mark?

Mark scrolls through his phone, long eyelashes accentuating the hood of his eyes. His lips pursed when he presses his fingers to the screen, “Hey- sorry, this is off-topic but what do you think is going on with the weather? Like one day it’s a hurricane and then sunny the next. Everyone’s talking about it on Twitter.”

“Mark, can I show you something?”

Mark snaps his head up, “Is everything okay?”

You smile, “Just trust me.”

You hand him his belongings as he messily shoves them into his backpack, “Where are we going?”

“Just don’t freak out.”

Mark makes a face at you, “When you say that it makes me freak out.”

You lead Mark to the roof terrace of the university, climbing the stairs in the pouring rain. People below run under the canopies as they use their books to avoid the rain. Mark gulps, “You know, I’m not the best with heights-”

You plant your feet on the ground, clasping your hands together. In your head, you repeat the words like a mantra, “I want sunshine today, let the heavens be sunny upon us.”

And like instant magic, glowing white rays start to sear the blackened clouds, the rain starting to cease. In the middle of the dark ocean above, patches of deep blue begin to emerge. Mark runs to the terrace railing, “Holy shit- are you doing that?”

When the rain is completely dissipated, you glance at Mark who’s staring at you with utter awe in his eyes, “I’m going crazy right? Is this some weird trip or something?” Mark’s voice cracks, his fingers clenching the base of his throat. 

You shake your head, “No, this is my gift. You’re the only person who knows about it.”

“You have the power to make it stop raining?”

“Not only that, but all weather forms. Whenever I pray.”

Mark clasps his hands together too, closing his eyes as he murmurs types of weather, “How come it’s not working for me? I go to church all the time with my family.”

You sock his arm, “No silly, it’s not normal for everyone. Just me.”

Mark lets out an elongated whoa, “How long have you had this gift?”

Suddenly, your throat turns hoarse, “Since my mom died.”

He stammers, his words coming out in a  trail of apologies, “I’m so sorry, I didn't know- I-”

“It was a long time ago. Still, I think I was given this gift to carry on my parents’ legacy, their connection of being soulmates even.”

Mark nods quietly. “That’s so cool. I’ve never met a weather girl before.”

You laugh at his nickname, “Weather girl huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

“I’ll change that to your contact name, you can bet on that.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“So, what do you do with your gift? How do you know when to change weather patterns?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t. When I walk around and I see or hear that someone need’s weather for a specific day, I try to help them out. I thought I’d try to do something good.”

Mark runs his fingers over his hair, “That’s amazing. That’s so admirable of you to do that.”

“It’s what my parents would have wanted. I do it for them too.”

Mark stands up straight, his finger pointing at you. It looks as if a light bulb is going off, “Say- I have an idea for our project. What if we started a business?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hear me out- we can call it Weather Girl Service. We can talk about money management and leadership skills in life, because that’s what adults do right? Pay taxes and bills?”

You laugh at his silly idea, “But why Weather Girl Service?”

Mark hops excitedly up and down, “We can make job postings in the city and have people pay us by the hour if you change the weather to fit their occasion! We’d be rich by the end of it! But wait- only if you agree, I don’t want to make you do something like that if you don’t want to.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you smile at him, “I’m up for it if you are. I don’t mind.”

“Really?! Are you sure?!” Mark looks like an overly-excited school boy, his backpack jumbled because of how fast he’s jumping. He scrunches his nose, fistpumping the air, “We’re so getting an A on this.”

“Yes, I sure hope so!”

With that, you and Mark plan to meet at your dorm room the next day to get started on the project. He texts you later that night, “3 pm sharp right?”

“Yes sir, 3p m- my room.”

“Alrighty, see you tomorrow!”

When 3 pm comes, Mark stands at your door, his hands full with a box of materials and supplies. 

You giggle, “You sure got reinforcements.”

“I have to be prepared!”

For the next several hours, you and Mark spend time designing different posters and infographics to upload online and staple to bulletin boards. Mark’s got a mark cap in his mouth, brows knit in concentration as he writes on his notebook.

Mark snaps his fingers together, “How about this: Weather girl at your service, you call and we’ll be there to help you get the memories that you want- birthdays, grad parties, work events, you name it! Submit your info to this number here!”

You flash him a thumbs up, “It’s perfect. I love it.”

All day you and Mark run around the city- posting your posters and fliers from anywhere you can find. You post them on benches, town hall bulletin boards, and the street lamps that line the sidewalk. And the whole time, you never take your eyes off Mark’s wide smile and sparkling eyes. You don’t catch that whenever you’re turned away, Mark glances at you to admire your features, your hair, and everything in between. Around 6pm, you walk beside Mark on one of the bridges that extends over the river. The sun sets in the horizon, colors of sharp marigolds and blush pinks paint the sky above. There was no way that you and Mark were going to run around the city in rain. Sighing out, you watch the sun cast a faint glow on Mark’s cheeks and the slender of his nose, making him out to be a painting that belongs in the museum. It’s almost like if you took a paintbrush that you could paint him yourself just to memorize it.

Mark fists the air in victory, “We had a very productive day today, don’t you think?”

You nod, “Of course. I don’t think anyone can resist our offer.” 

“Thanks for doing this with me.”

You’re suddenly caught off guard by Mark’s gratitude, though it is not too out of character. “I had fun today with you.”

Mark smiles at the ground, twirling when he walks like he’s skipping to the beat of his favorite song. You hear him mumble a cute, “Me too.”

For the rest of the way, Mark walks you back home to your dorm room. Even though you told him you were fine, he still insisted. 

“Well, this is me.” you say.

Mark scratches his nape, readjusting the strap of his backpack, “I’ll see you tomorrow then. The grand opening.”

You nod, “Yes, bright and early.”

You turn away from him as he watches you enter your building. You instantly wish that you could’ve placed a hasty peck to his cheek. It seemed irresistible in the moment. Though, you remind yourself to not get too comfortable. Little did you know that Mark spent the whole night thinking about you.

>But if I had met you today

Would I have loved you the same?

And if I had known it would take

Ten years and twenty-two days to stop loving you

Stop loving you, no

First day of business

“Mark, is this yours?”

Mark sits in the driver’s seat of his sunny yellow van- the kind that you’d make deliveries in. It looks bright under the gloomy, rainy skies.  He honks his horn obnoxiously once and twice as he scrunches his eyes together before saying, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Laughing, you launch yourself into the seat before Mark takes off with a faster speed. You shout, “If I die in a car accident today, half of the money we make goes to my aunt okay?”

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, “Stop it y/n, I’m the best driver in town!”

“Yeah, right-”

The first stop happens to be one of Mark’s dad’s friends. He requested that he was going to surprise his wife with an anniversary dinner and needed sunshine for that specific hour: Saturday, 6pm. When you arrived at the pretty farm home, the man greeted Mark instantly when you got out of the van. He shook your hand, eyes anticipating, “Is it true? You can really change the weather?”

You smile at him, “You need to see it to believe it and I’m here to deliver.”

The man puts his hand on Mark’s shoulder, “Here’s the compensation for your work today. I have to ask one favor of you.”

Mark quirks his eyebrow up, handing the wad of cash to you, “What’s that?”

“My wife and I want some private time, we’ve paid you extra so that you can watch our daughter?”

Mark’s jaw drops, “Watch your daughter? As in baby sit?”

“Yes, that’s right. We will give as much as you need.”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, his eyes widened, “I don’t think-”

Before Mark can answer, you cut in, “We’d love to. What time does she need to be back?”

“8 pm.”

“Deal.”

Mark stands next to you, his face utterly flabbergasted from your confidence of the deal. You can tell that he’s freaking out inside. He’s panicking and it shows on his face. 

“Mari, please come out! One second-”

Through the front door, the man guides his 7 year old daughter to you both. And you’re sure that your heart does flips when you see her. She’s dressed in a princess dress, her eyes fluttering from sleep. She’s the spitting image of her father. She drags a blue blanket in one hand, rubbing her green eyes, “Daddy?”

Her dad motions to you and Mark, “You’ll be hanging out with Mark and y/n today. Mommy and I will be back in a few hours.”

“Okay..”

The man tells you about everything you need to know, when Mari needs to go to the bathroom, what she likes to eat, and every little thing she likes to do. 

“I think we’re all set now, any questions?”

You shake your head, “No sir, we’ll have her back by 8.”

He nods at you, “Good, see you both later.”

With that, Mari is left in yours and Mark’s hands. You crouch down to her level, waving at her lightly, “Hi Mari, my name’s y/n. Me and Mark will take you out today okay?”

The girl slowly blinks, clutching her blue blanket even tighter, “Are you my mommy for today?”

How have you not exploded from her adorableness yet? “Yes, just for a little bit until your real mommy comes back.”

She reaches up to cling to Mark’s pant leg, plopping down to sit on his shoe, “And you’re my daddy today?”

Mark glances down at her and back to you. He squeezes his eyes in mock pain, running his hand over his hair, “Sure, I’m your daddy.”

You nudge him, whispering, “She’s a kid, try to be nice.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When you hop back in the van, you have Mari sit in your lap as you place the seatbelt over her body, making sure she is secure. Mark revs up the engine, driving slowly to the next location of requests. It doesn’t take long for Mari to fall asleep on your chest, you coo at her peaceful face. 

“I’m not good with kids- what did we get ourselves into?”

“Don’t be such a worry-wart! She’s so cute, look at her!”

“Can’t, I’m driving.”

“Don’t be grumpy Mark, you’ll have a family with your soulmate one day.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in soulmates.”

“Agh- you know what I mean.”

“Will she be okay when we’re working? We have 2 more requests to do.”

“She’ll be fine, relax.”

The next destination you arrive at is a farmer’s market at the heart of downtown. When Mark parks the car, you wake Mari, “Mari? Mark and I have to work so you just stick with me okay?”

Mari mumbles a disoriented reply, her cheek still resting on your shoulder. You arrive at a fruit stand where an older woman approaches you, “Mark and y/n?”

Mark smiles at her, “That’s us- you called the Weather Girl Delivery Service?”

“Yes. The other farmers didn’t want to believe me but I swear, I wanted to take a chance with this. As you can see, we can’t have our market with all this constant flooding and rain. It’s like the weather’s been on steroids.”

Mark flashes her with a thumbs up, “That’s why we’re here, we’ll get to work right away.”

“Y/n?”

You step forward to Mark, “You’ll have to hold her.”

Mark’s eyes widen with surprise, “Uh, okay.”

He cradles sleeping Mari so awkwardly, you have to guide his hands to support her bottom, “Mark, you have to hold her up or she’ll slip.”

Mark fumbles with his hands before adjusting her so her chin is on his shoulder, “I got her, don’t worry.”

You nod before making your way to the center of the market. Clasping your hands together once more, you pray that the sunshine will blow away the cyclone of the shadows and falling rains. Miraculously, it does. When you turn around, the woman stands next to Mark in awe spreading her arms out in glee, “It works! Haha! Take that you old goons!”

The rest of the farmers stand under the shade of the fruit stand, grumbling at the woman’s victory. You give her a hug once she sends you off with a wad of cash and three freshly squeezed juices for all three of you. When you settle back into the car, Mari still stays rested on your lap.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

Mark rolls his eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips, “Okay, you win this time.”

“By the way, is this your first time holding a child?”

Mark laughs, “Don’t even patronize me right now.”

The third destination is a bit more serene. You arrive at an elderly woman’s home, her home similar to that of your aunt’s cottage. It’s decorated with wood and bamboo shoots, bells and windchimes hang from the roof shingles. Knocking on the door, the woman greets you. She’s an elderly Japanese woman, hair tied into a loose bun as she motions you to come inside with her cane, “Come in, come in.”

You both slip off your shoes, Mari awake as if sleep was a distant memory. The woman leads you to her dining room, pots of orchids and perilla leaves grow all over the counters and sink. There’s colorful painted murals of people and sceneries on the walls, smeared from the passing of time. History moves within the walls in a series of blurred colors. 

“Something to drink, kids?”

You and Mark decline, prompting Mari to mumble, “I’m thirsty.”

You hear the rumbling noise from Mari’s stomach, it is around lunch time. You ask for the woman for a glass of water but she waves you off with a smile. Instead, she cuts a slice of peach pie for Mari, the crust smells of cinnamon and nutmeg. She passes a pitcher of lemonade to you and Mark, sucking on lemon slices as she works.

Mark sits next to you on the bench by the dining table, “Thank you for the hospitality mam’, there’s no need to pay us for your request.”

You smile at Mark’s words, not wanting to take from the elderly woman either. When she’s done putting away the pie, she meanders over to you slowly as she pats down Mari’s silky black hair, “You kids are awfully young to have a child.”

Mark chokes on his tea, sputtering the liquid into his glass. It sends him into a coughing fit, “S-she isn’t our child- we’re just watching her for the day.”

You jokingly hit Mark’s back to get him to stop choking, “Oh no, we’re not married either- we’re just friends.”

The woman raises her brow like she knows some unspoken secret, “Friends?”

You and Mark glance at each other before awkwardly averting eyes. Even Mari talks with her mouthful of pie, “They’re my mommy and daddy for today!”

Mark mutters, “I’m not your real dad..”

The elderly woman is amused, her smile creating creases on her cheeks and on her temples, “Are you two at least soulmates?”

This time, you answer her almost too hastily, “No! We’re only classmates- friends- that’s all.”

Mark looks at you, the sparkle in his eyes dimming a bit. Was that disappointment? Hurt? His shoulders are drooping and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Did you say something wrong? It was a fact though, you and Mark weren’t soulmates.

You try to brush it off. The woman leans on her cane, “I need you kids for your strength. I would do it myself but as you can see, I’m not as young as I used to be. Help me move the orchids out back.”

Mark makes his way to the kitchen sink, roots overgrown on the counter top. You move Mari off your lap before turning to the elderly woman, “Could you please watch her?”

The elderly woman chuckles, “Sure, I have enough pie to keep her distracted.”

You politely thank her, making your way over to where Mark is putting the orchids into glass vases. He doesn’t say a word. You nudge him with your elbow a bit, “Is everything okay?”

His eyes are trained on his busied hands, “Mhm.”

“Mark, you don’t seem okay.”

“Nope, everything’s good y/n. Are you alright?”

“Well yeah, but..”

Mark bites his lower lip, “Good.”

He grabs both vases in his hands before walking over to the sliding door, leaving you alone with your thoughts. He definitely wasn’t okay, you don’t want to push him any further. Instead, you pot the rest of the succulents and flowers in the kitchen.

“You know, that boy likes you.”

You turn around to see Mari snuggling up to the elderly woman, her dimples popping out from smiling. 

“Mark? No, we’re just partners for a school project.”

“That may be true but I’ve lived a long time, I know what love looks like. After all, I had a soulmate too.”

You lean against the edge of the counter, picking off the stray leaves off stems, “Let me guess- they left?”

“To the afterlife if that’s what you’re referring to.”

You stay silent. You’re not sure what to say. 

“Child, have you been hurt in the past?”

You snap your head up at her, setting the flowers down, “Why do you ask that?”

She clicks her tongue, “Being ignorant to feelings doesn’t count as being oblivious. Don’t let your past rip you of your opportunities.”

Your eyes shift to Mark standing outside, he sticks his hand out in the rain, water droplets crashing against his palm. 

“With all due respect, you don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“Shoot it at me. Guilt? Sadness? Grief? You forget I’m old. I’ve seen things.”

Mari pokes her arm, playing with the ribbon on the woman’s sleeve, “Can I have more pie?”

The woman frowns down at her, “You’ll be sick if you eat so much pie, wait for dinner.”

Mari huffs in response, brows furrowed in annoyance. 

“My point is, y/n, you have to learn to accept outcomes and heal. Don’t be stuck on your mistakes and your missed trials. Learn and grow from them. Ask yourself of purpose. Why are you doing this project? Why with that boy?”

Before you can answer her, you’re about to say it’s for the grade, maybe for the extra money. Deep down, you know that it isn’t that. You turn to look at Mark outside. He’s standing in the middle of the woman’s Japanese garden, eyes shut under the falling rain. And you swear, you’ve never seen anyone who’s any more beautiful. He looks so peaceful standing there, hair becoming wet from it. It reminds you of that day. 

She continues, “In my time, I’d normally enjoy the rain. But, my flowers are dying so I need you to bring the sun for today. I haven’t felt that ever since the city’s been raining non-stop.”

You nod, you know what you must do. You stroll over to the sliding door, opening it up to the garden. You approach Mark in the middle of the grass, watching him as he sticks his tongue out. When he opens his eyes, he jumps from being startled by you, “Whoa, how long have you been standing there?”

“Not long, I just wanted you to enjoy the rain about longer before I- you know.”

“Oh, right, go ahead.”

You do what you do best.The old woman steps onto her porch, Mari flying past her to catch up with you and Mark. You savor the coldness, the breeze, and the scents of drenched flowers. You want to try something new, something that you can see and feel all in one moment. In our head, you visualize a million colors. You think about the walls of the elderly woman’s home and the sunset glow on Mark’s face, your mother’s familiar smile. You think about Mari’s laugh and all the people you’ve made happy today. It paints tangerine oranges and lavender streaks, explosions of electric blues and sparkling greens. Clasping your hands together, you wish on the stars to send your vision into the sky. When you open your eyes, Mark’s holding Mari in his arms as her mouth falls open from the view. It worked. The sky above your heads has become an ocean of color strokes, clouds and stars swirling together. It’s the best configuration you’ve ever made. It looks like a real-life kaleidoscope. 

“Holy shi-”

Mark stops his words when he feels Mari’s small finger poking his cheek, “Look at what y/n made!”

You smile, pressing your hand to Mari’s head, “I made it for you! Do you like it?”

Mari squeals, “ Yes! Yes! Daddy, lift me higher!”

Your eyes fall on Mark’s. He gives you a knowing smile, eyes soft with adoration and glittering under the shooting stars. He lifts Mari onto his shoulders, “Hang on tight!”

She yelps, placing her hands on his head, “I want to catch the stars!”

Mark begins to spin around lightly, making airplane noises from his mouth. You laugh at the sight, turning to look back at the elderly woman. She winks at you, leaning on the pillar of her makeshift watering station for her succulents. After playing around under the cosmos, you finally greet the elderly woman goodbye, thanking her for her advice. Though you and Mark refuse, she shoves her cash into your hands, telling Mark to treat you- she says you're both welcome to her home anytime. Afterwards, you and Mark drop Mari at home as promised. You feel your heart swell when Mari starts to cry, Mark pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her into her father’s arms. He assures her that you and Mark will come to visit sometime, inviting you both to dinner in the future. Of course you agree. 

Mark drives you back to campus, walking you to your doorstep as always. He pulls out the money, splitting it evenly in half before handing it to you, “Your share as promised of course.”

You nod, taking the cash from him, “You know, doing this job- money is a bonus but I’m not doing it for that.”

Mark chuckles, his hands in his denim pockets, “I’m glad we can make people happy.”

A silent beat. “You know, uh, about earlier- I didn’t mean to come off weird. I think I was just in my head about something, I’m not sure.”

You’re not usually someone who makes the first move. The first leap. Mark doesn’t even have the slightest clue about what he’s doing to you, how he makes you feel. Do you like him? You’re almost certain of the feelings. You step forward, your nose almost brushed against his chest. Gingerly and slowly, your fingers find Mark’s hand, it makes him gulp from the sudden contact. His eyes are widened in confusion and you think he’s forgotten how to breathe. Looking up at him, you say, “It’s fun doing this with you- I’d rather not do it with anyone else.”

Mark nods but doesn’t say anything. His hands are shaking. You can hear the erratic beating in his chest and it takes every bone in his body not to grab your face and kiss you right on the spot. When he doesn’t say anything, maybe you think that you’ve scared him. Maybe he doesn’t feel the same way. You step back a bit, the air becoming less tense, “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“Okay, yeah.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something more but you’ve already shut the door. In Mark’s head, he’s let out a string of curses. Why didn’t he do something? Why didn’t he say something? Why is he such a coward? He asks himself. Is it the right time? What if you don’t feel the same way?”

All night, he beats himself up for it, tossing and turning in his bed. 

The next couple months in your university fly by. Ever since that night, you and Mark continued as if nothing ever happened. One thing that did change was a gloomy, ominous blanket over the city- it almost felt apocalyptic in a sense. Weather forecasters predicted that with such heavy and continuous rains- the flooding, the city would be underwater in the next coming year. There might be an evacuation.

Still, you took it upon yourself to savor the time you would have left in the city. One of the things on your list was you wanted to get to know Mark’s world better. You know that he can’t eat dairy, he absolutely hates the texture of yogurt and he’s able to eat watermelon flavoring by the shot. It’s gross but it sounds like him. You and Mark eat at all your favorite lunch spots, watch comedies in the theaters, and hang out in each other's rooms. The business is going well, more and more people submit their requests for sunny days and sunsets, sometimes purposeful rain to play in. Mark drives in his sunny yellow van, sticking your hand out the window as your favorite songs blare from the speakers. You even have dinner at Mari's house. Her parents are shocked to hear that you and Mark aren’t together yet. The blush on your cheeks are the shade of ripe cherries. At the school, you sit with Mark’s friends practically for every meal. Everyone is fond of you, except Lana. Every time Mark tells stories about wacky customers or talks about how excited he is because you both received an A in philosophy class, Lana gives you a look. Vice versa, Mark glares at Haechan whenever he gets too close to you, he doesn’t say anything.

 You and Mark had started the business in the summer, the weather outside is more autumn-like now. You have to wear a scarf to class because of how chilly it is.  Leaves change to shades of burgundies and browns, falling off trees when they’re ready- it almost signifies the start of a new season- a new chapter of your life. 

Autumn

>Where did the time go?

You became someone I used to know

Where did the time go?

When you became someone I used to know

Used to know, used to know, used to know

Business Partner Mark Lee: “Y/n, the boys and I got tickets to the new amusement park. Wanna come?”

You text Mark back during your statistics class, “Of course, I’ll be there.”

Business Partner Mark Lee: “Meet us there at 6 pm. After that, can we talk? I need to ask you about something.”

“Okay.”

Going back to your dorm room, you walk with a pep in your step. You wonder about what Mark wants to talk to you about. Will he finally say something? Is it about the business? Does he think you’re too mean with your teasing? Anyway, you dress up in a cute outfit of your choice- nice shoes, a cotton knit sweater, and a corduroy skirt. You even tie your hair with ribbons that Mark gave you as a congratulation for 100 customers' gifts. You bought him a guitar pick then. 

By the time you reach the amusement park, you meet up with Haechan, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung. Chenle had choir practice and Jaemin was on a date with some girl. Mark and Lana are nowhere to be found. 

“Hey, guys.”

Haechan sees you first, swinging his arm over your shoulders, “There she is- beautiful y/n.”

You attempt to push his weight off, “Haechan, you’re heavy- you’re going to break my shoulder bone.”

Jeno laughs, “I don’t think that’s actually possible.”

Renjun jumps in, “What should we do first? Ferris wheel? Laser tag? Mini-golf?”

“We’re not doing rollercoasters, not the upside down ones.” Jisung rolls his eyes, chewing his mint flavored gum.

Haechan smirks, “Jeez Jisung, you’re no fun- you can stay on the ground and video record us like a grandma.”

Renjun shoves Haechan, “I’m with Jisung on that one, unless you want puke all over your expensive jacket.”

“Fine, me and y/n will be up there.” Haechan leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you get scared, you can hang on to me.”

You awkwardly pat Haechan’s chest, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, thank you.” Haechan raises his eyebrows, his lips upturned in a smirk, “Whatever you say, y/n.”

You know that Haechan has a crush on you. Jeno and Jisung had told you so out of curiosity but doubted it from the start- they knew you had your eyes on Mark the entire time. Haechan could never compete. 

“Where’s Mark and Lana?”

Renjun snaps his fingers, his eyes lighting up, “Oh yeah- Mark told me he was picking up Lana. I think they were hanging out before this.”

Haechan responds, “I’m not surprised. I think Mark will ask her out today, their families have known each other since birth.”

Your heart sinks. Oh, so there was someone else. It’s probably why Mark brushed you off that day. Probably why he’s never said anything since. You feel a bit sick in your stomach and you haven’t gone any roller coaster yet. You had spent this whole time pining for someone who’s not going to like you even as close as you like them. It’s been one-sided.

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when Jisung waves excitedly at Mark and Lana, both of them side by side. You feel weird about it. Renjun straight up, his finger pointing to the air, “Let’s do laser tag first, I call dibs being team captain.”

Jeno laughs, his eyes crinkling when he does, “Then I’m the other team captain.”

“Hey, y/n.” Mark comes up from behind you.

“Hey Mark. Hey Lana.”

 Lana says a barely audible, “Hey.”

Once you’re all split into teams, it goes like this: Jeno’s the captain of your team, you, Haechan and Lana are on team red. Team blue consists of Renjun as captain, Mark and Jisung. To compensate for the lack of team members, team blue gets a head start in hiding. When the game begins, you just try to have your best to have fun. You dodge around the glow in the dark pillars, aiming your gun at Renjun as he angrily fists the air from running out of ammo. Haechan and Jisung fight off to the death, freezing each other out. By the time the hour is done, it’s down to you, Lana and Mark. You try to devise a plan with her but she doesn’t seem to engage with you. All she tells you is, “I’ll get Mark out.”

Was that a warning? A phrase of double meaning? Maybe you’re just overthinking it because of envy. Down to the last three seconds, Lana and Mark face off in the middle of the playground. Before Lana shoots him, Mark fires first- the obnoxiously blaring alarm sounding off team blue’s victory. Jeno throws his gun down in frustration, you pat his back in comfort as you watch Mark laugh with Lana and Renjun. Who were you kidding? 

Haechan shouts, “Let’s go on the dragon ball coaster next!”

When you’re all in line for the coaster, Haechan whispers a joke about the man who’s dressed as a clown a few feet away, enticing park-goers into the circus tent. You laugh at the joke. To Mark, he’s burning with jealousy. He watches when Haechan, his friend’s lips almost touch your ear, your giggle from Haechan’s flirting. Mark tightens his fist, averting his eyes from a scene. He has yet to tell you but he’s waiting for the right moment. He doesn’t want to come off as the overly-jealous boyfriend when you aren’t his. He snaps out of it when Lana tugs his arm, “Can we go in the tunnel? I’m not good with coasters.”

Before Mark can answer, Renjun jokingly gags, “The tunnel of love? You guys are bound to moochie mooch in there huh?”

When Renjuns says such a thing, you don’t hear any of Haechan’s jokes anymore. You don’t hear the sound of Jeno jostling Jisung and Jisung whining about it. You just wait for Mark’s response. He stares back at you in silence, Haechan even stops talking to look at Mark looking at you. Your eyes trail down to see Lana’s clutch on Mark’s arm, tightening when she makes eye contact with you, “Mark?”

You can’t hold it in. It just falls out from your lips, “You two should go, there’s limited seats in the coaster cars anyway since we have an odd number.”

It’s like someone’s fed you bitter medicine. You grimace at your words, almost regretting them instantly. Jeno and Jisung give you a knowing look, they know. Haechan laughs, “Very true point y/n, you guys can head along.”

Mark ducks under the cue line, Lana scrambling to follow after him. Everytime she tries to cling on to him, Mark removes her hands politely, declining. It makes you feel even worse. Jisung and Jeno carry on with their conversation. Haechan looks at the pair, “They make a good couple don’t they?”

You just nod. Maybe they do. After the roller coaster ride, you don’t feel any better. Jeno and Haechan are screaming to go again and Renjun and Jisung opt to go get snacks at the candy shop by the merry go round. Haechan nudges you, “Let’s go again?”

You smile at them, “Actually, I think I’m going to go home. I don’t feel well- I think I ate something that expired this morning.”

Jeno frowns, “Are you sure? We can take you home if you want.”

Waving your hands in refusal, “No, no, you guys have fun- I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

You begin to walk away from them, a rising feeling in your stomach. You dig your fingernails into the skin of your hands. Do not cry right now. Mark’s just one person. But you know that it hurts too much to forget about him. You almost don’t hear it when Haechan is shouting at you to wait up, grabbing your wrist.

“Y/n? Can we talk? Oh-”

It’s too late. The dam is broken, your tears are starting to blur your vision. Not right now, not in front of Haechan. 

“Y/n.. what’s wrong?”

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes, “Nothing. I’m okay, I’m just tired and stressed about the business.”

Haechan’s face softens, he’s fiddling with the zipper on his expensive suede jacket, “I know this isn’t a good time but if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I can. I really, I mean really, like-”

You cut him off, “You like me. Right?”

Haechan becomes still. He freezes, slow blinking, “How did you know?”

“Any girl who can’t see it is more than oblivious. And, I appreciate it. I love you but not in the romantic way. I love you because you’re kind to me, you’re witty, and you make everyone in this group so happy. But I-I just I can’t- ”

“It’s Mark right? Jeno and Jisung told me.”

An awkward beat. You two don’t say a word. It’s just silence between you two, tears falling from your face and onto the pavement. Your nose is running and you’re sure that the other park-goers who pass by are staring at you two like some spectacle. 

“I’m sorry, Haechan. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Hacehan sighs, looking up at the blush pink sky that’s being consumed by inky storm clouds, thunder beckoning rain in the distance. He thinks to himself, I knew it was Mark all along. Why did he even bother? At the time, he thought it was worth the shot. Now, he looks at your crying face, the way your long hair falls over your ears. He takes it upon himself to put one strand behind your ear, wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb, “How could you hurt me? We’re friends and I’ll always care about you. I’ll be okay.”

You stare back at him, it makes the crack in your heart widen. The world is so unfair. It’s unfair to you and to Haechan, to your family. At least, Haechan has a chance of finding a soulmate who isn’t as broken as you. He’ll find some nice girl to laugh at his jokes, tease him when he whines, and buys him video games every holiday. You stand on your tippy toes because of how tall he is, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. You whisper, “You’re going to find a soulmate who will love you for eternity- I’m sure of it.”

>I think we must’ve known how it ended

When we wrote it on a napkin with tears and a pen

A couple of kids who pretended

Until it felt real in our heads

Haechan stares at the ground, not saying a word. You take off running, tears running down your face like it matches the hard beating in your chest. It always ends up like this. It’s like the world can’t give you one piece of happiness. You decide to walk home. Call it melancholy or stupid because you can catch a cold, but you’re not in the mood to ask anyone for a ride. You walk on the streets alone, rain coming hard on you. Your hair, your outfit, all of it soaked. And you’re sure that you’ve lost one of your hair ribbons from running. You don’t have strength in you to wish for sunshine. Concerned mothers ask if they can buy you an umbrella and you just decline politely. It hurts, the smell of the rain and mixing of your tears. Your feet are blistered and drenched. In your pocket, your phone vibrates continuously. Mark’s asking where you are and you don’t have it in you to see his stupidly dumb, dorky, adorable face. 

Dragging your feet along the pavement, the rain only comes down harder. There’s barely anyone on the streets and cars zip by, splashing puddles onto the cement. Your lungs are choked up from your sobs. That’s when you hear it, a voice calling out to you from a distance. You don’t want to turn around but you can’t stop yourself from doing so. You can’t resist it.

>I guess I don't really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don’t know how to feel

I guess I don’t really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don't know how to feel

“Wait! y/n!”

You freeze in your tracks, your back faced to the boy who’s ran all this way to catch up to you. He’s got his hands on his knees, coughing from how fast he had to move. You still don’t turn around, you just feel it. “Let’s talk Monday, I’m not in the mood.” You speak slowly so he can’t recognize the cracks in your voice. 

You feel Mark step closer to you, “Why’d you leave? I was going to talk to you, remember?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. You turn around, your tears blurring the vision of a rain-soaked Mark in front of you, “I can’t do this with you anymore!”

Mark freezes, his eyes trained on you. He doesn’t even blink. He stands a few feet away, a crushed and now wet gift box in his hand. “Y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, trying to breathe air into your lungs, “All this time, I don’t know what I feel. I’m so confused about all of it. You’re confusing me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“God, I’m so stupid!” You wipe your tears, the thunder roaring above your heads. The water doesn’t cease at all. The weather matches the burn in your heart. You heave, continuing, “I have to go. See you in class,  Mark.”

Before you can walk away, you feel a firm hand on your wrist. 

“Y/n. Look at me.”

You whimper, “I can’t,”

“I said look at me.”

Reluctantly, you face Mark, he’s still holding your wrist. You gaze up at him. His hair is matted against his forehead, cold droplets on his cheeks and trailing down to his chin. His jacket looks heavy and now, there’s barely space in between you. It all happens so fast, he drops the white gift box to the ground, clasping both of his hands on both sides of your face. He’s so close. You can feel the warmth of his breath, see every detail that makes him himself, every little memory and trait. 

You search for some sort of sign, trying to calculate his next move, “What are you-”

He cuts you off by smashing his lips onto yours, powerfully and desperately. You melt and your mind’s being clouded by foggy thoughts, his arms supporting you by holding your body up. You’re surprised your knees haven’t given up yet. Mark molds his lips to yours, it’s a back and forth of wet, open-mouthed kisses under the crash of the rain. You both don’t mind. He continues to kiss you like that, eyes shut, pressing his lips harder and harder until you can’t breathe. Your fingers claw through his soaked hair, noses against cheeks, and you reel back to gain more access. His hands move to the make of your neck, his thumb swiping over your cheek. He groans when your tongue meets his, your bodies becoming hot despite the icy crystals falling down on you. You part from him, Mark chasing your lips in response, “Let’s go home and then we’ll talk.”

He swipes the remainder of your tears away, you nod. The whole time you walk home, Mark doesn’t let go of your hand. In fact, he holds your body close to his. You decide to go to Mark’s room tonight. He shuts his door, handing you a towel, “You shower first. I’ll go after.”

You protest, “I’m okay- I don’t really have anything to wear anyway.”

Mark throws one of his t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts at you, “Wear these, I don’t want you to get sick.”

You smile, “Thanks.”

After a nice long, hot shower- the rain seems more peaceful outside of Mark’s dorm room window. The only light source he has is a lamp that sits on his desk, the print on the lampshade covered with lions. He must’ve had that when he was little. When Mark’s down showering, he wears a grey hoodie and sweatpants and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to kiss Mark again. He sits on his bed next to you, moving his guitar out of the way, “So, what happened?”

You sigh, “When I saw you with Lara, I couldn’t, I don’t know, see you with someone else.” Mark chuckles, “Were you jealous?”

You look at him in the dark, punching his arm slightly, “No- don’t even dream of it.”

“What if I told you I was jealous of Haechan?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “You were?”

Mark rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding? He was practically whispering in your ear and being so close, you know he likes your right? He told me and I told him to go for it but I messed up, I shouldn’t have.”

You play with the frayed thread on Mark’s t-shirt, “He told me, I turned him down.”

“Why?”

“Ugh, you know why.”

Mark presses his finger to his eyes, covering his nose in embarrassment, “I like you y/n.”

You don’t even register when he says it. 

You were still talking about something but you pause when Mark’s words echo in your head, “After that kiss? I was hoping that’s what you were going to say.”

You and Mark erupt into a giggling fit, shoving each other. Then Mark pulls out something from behind him, it’s the squashed white gift box. He bites his lip, causing it to glow pink, “I was planning on telling you today and giving you this but someone took off.”

“Sorry about that.”

Mark shakes his head, grinning. He pulls out a tiny, gold necklace that’s in the shape of a sun. Even in the dark, it glimmers. You touch it tenderly, afraid it’ll break in your fingertips, “You got this for me?”

Mark nods, “Can I put it on?”

You turn your back to him, holding up your hair in a ponytail for his nimble fingers to clasp the necklace onto your neck. The cold metal of it soothes your skin. 

You touch it, running your fingers over the charm, “It’s beautiful, thank you. For the record, I like you too Mark.”

But in the back of your mind, there’s that shadow that always remains. It takes the form of fear, uncertainty- telling you that you do not deserve happiness or you do not deserve to love anyone. Still, it doesn’t stop Mark from leaning over to you and kissing you once again. He uses his fingers to trace your hair and the hollow of your neck, the side of your arm. It makes you shiver, it makes goosebumps rise in hills. You grasp his black locks, lips once again moving in a syncopated wave. Mark mumbles several hums, addicted to the taste of the way your lips feel. You want Mark. You want him so badly it kills you. You’re afraid to fall and it makes you want it even more. Pulling his hoodie, you fold your legs over his lap, straddling him. It makes him heated, blush spotting his cheeks and his neck. He runs his soft hands over the skin of your thighs and traces the waistband of your shorts. You’re trying your best not to lose self-control. It goes out the window when he removes his hoodie, his skin glowing under the lamp light. 

You run your thumb across his collarbone and the curves of his abdomen and chest like you’re connecting constellations. You press your swollen lips to the base of his collarbone, rubbing your hand on the warm skin of his shoulder, “Have I ever told you that you’re gorgeous?

”Mark doesn’t answer, he’s busy tipping his head back, shutting his eyes from the feel of your lips on his skin. He opens his eyes before leaning over to move your hair behind your ear once again, nibbling on your earlobe. You accidentally moan when he moves to the juncture of your neck, it turns Mark on even more. He swipes his tongue by the base of your neck, “I.” A kiss. Don’t know if.” A kiss. “You remember this.” A kiss. Mark parts away to finish his sentence, “I remember you from that night at the hospital. Do you remember me?”

That’s when you snap out of it. You gaze back at him, replaying everything in your head. Your mom. The shrine. The gift. The sun and the rain. You slide off his lap, touching the area of your shoulder. The shadow in your mind, the voice in your mind telling you not to give in.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You nod, “Yes, I remember you. When we first met, I said that we didn’t because everything that day was so blurry that I cut it out of my memories. But for what it is, I remember you.”

Mark looks sad, immediately regretting he even brought it up. You mold your hand to his cheek, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad I met you back then, that will never change.”

Mark opens his mouth to say something but closes it when he finds a spot pinging, a tiny glow appearing on his hand. When you look down too, a glow appears on the same spot of your hand. After a couple seconds, the glow forms into the shape of a sun, Mark’s name glowing above it. Mark’s glow forms into the shape of a raindrop, your name glowing on his hand in cursive letters.

You both look at each other and back to your hands, “Does this mean-”

He lets out a breath he’s been holding, “You’re my soulmate?”

While Mark’s ecstatic, you feel a weight just drop in your stomach. No. Not right now. Mark realizes you’re staring at your hand, you look as if you had just seen a ghost. You almost wished you had.

“Is everything alright? Did I-?”

Instantly, you grab Mark’s hands, “I need you to listen to me carefully okay?”

Your hands are shaking now and you feel like you’re going to burst into tears again. This is the worst thing that you can do to someone, this is why you were reluctant to have Mark in the first place. You love him so much you can’t bear to hurt him like this. 

“Y/n… what’s happening?”

Slowly and delicately, you lift off Mark’s t-shirt over your head. Mark’s expression is utterly, painfully blank. He stares at you, unmoving.

“What is that?”

Though you’re in the dark, it shines brightly clear. The skin of your shoulder is completely coated with this invisible matter, tiny bubbles floating through it. It resembles the rain. The thing is consuming your shoulder and gaps of your chest are missing. No person could tell if they didn’t see your naked body. 

Mark leans forward, running his hand over your shoulder, his fingers go right through your body like it isn’t there. 

“Please tell me this isn’t real. This is just a joke right?”

You place your head in Mark chest, your arms hugging his bare waist, “I found out my gift comes with a price. My body is becoming a part of the weather, a part of the sky above. Ever since that day I stepped into the shrine on top of the hospital, I saw water floating upwards- this is the consequence for toying around with nature.”

Mark doesn’t say anything. He thinks for a moment. He grips the comforter you both sit on top of. Then, he speaks, “Can’t I fix this?! There has to be a way- maybe if I go to the shrine and figure something out-”

You release him, putting your hands on both sides of his face, “You can’t. I’ve tried everything. I even went to a priest, a shaman, anyone I could find. You heard about the forecasters talking about the floods right? As long as I’m here, this city will be underwater. I’m a glitch in the system. I’m the virus in the code, blocking the world from being natural.”

>I guess I don't really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don’t know how to feel

I guess I don’t really know who you are now

I guess that we met with our heads in the clouds

So I look for your name and I say it out loud

Maybe that makes you real

I don't know how to feel

Mark begins to cry. Tears fall from his eyes, dropping onto the skin of your hand. All you can do is hug him as tight as you can, fearful that if you let go- you can’t have him back, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I’m so so sorry.”

Mark sobs into your shoulder for the next hour or so. When he’s tuckered out from crying, you put him to bed, standing up to walk towards Mark’s desk. You decide to write letters to your aunt, Mari, and your friends. You even leave one for Lana. When you’re finished, you slip under the covers next to Mark. You use your fingers to touch his eyelids and his nose, his cheeks and the ruffle of his hair because you know it will be the last time. Pressing a kiss to his nose, you settle against Mark’s chest, knowing the sky will claim you in the morning. 

In the morning

The next morning, Mark wakes up from what he thinks is a nightmare. He sweats profusely, he feels dehydrated,and his throat feels like it’s being ripped open. The worst part is when his heart begins to settle, he sees his own hoodie and basketball shorts where you had lay next to him. Though he wasn't awake, he remembers it all. He remembers you sitting at his desk, you kissing his nose. He remembers your warmth. This can’t be the end. Mark takes the first morning train to the hospital. He calls his friends, Jeno, Renjun, and Haechan to the hospital. Over the phone, he tells them he’ll explain later, he just tells them that you need them. They drive there as soon as the train departs. From arriving at the hospital, everything is like a blur. The hospital staff doesn't want to let some random teenage boy up onto the room, warily suspicious of the request.  

That's when Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun risk it all for you and Mark, tackling and holding back the employees even if they’re radioing security at that very moment. Mark races up the stairs after grabbing the keys to the door, he remembers when those were his keys. He talks to himself. Please. Please. I have to see her. I have to see her one last time. He even prays to whoever’s up there about it. To his dismay, when he gets up there- he doesn’t see a shrine like you had described. He kicks the metal railing out of anger, screaming into the air as he calls out your name. He demands the sky to give you back. No one answers and it kills him.

From up there, you wake up in an unfamiliar scenery. You sit up, groggy from sleep. Looking down at your hands, you don’t believe it. Water takes the form of you, replacing your skin with invisible liquid. You’re sitting on what seems to be like a cloud, fish made out of rain droplets flying all around you in schools. When you look above you, it’s another world. A whale made of thunder clouds lets out a bellow, voices of children laughing when lighting strikes. There’s a castle floating in the distance, each level of the castle painted with different hues of color. It’s all eerily beautiful. Despite its beauty, no one’s around. You’re all alone. 

You touch your shoulder, only feeling nothing but water. Your body isn't real. It means the sky has completely and entirely claimed you. That’s when you feel a cold metal thing hanging around your neck. Mark. Mark’s still down on earth. You begin to hold onto it, the chain slipping out of your fingers and through the cloud that you sit on, you scream Mark’s name as loud as you can. You cry and you scream, sobs wracking your entire body. That was the last piece you had connected to Mark, your soulmate. This is your consequence. What good are soulmates if there’s only one half to the whole? What is the point? Even so, you love Mark so much. You miss him.

Mark screams at the sky, tears lining his eyes. He sees something shine above him, dropping onto the pavement by his foot. When he crouches down for a better look, it’s the sun pendant that he gave you last night. He squeezes it in his hand, screaming for you. There is no answer. 

In front of him, some shape materializes from a blurry image. When it focuses, it morphs into a red archway just as you had told him in the library. He runs up to it, desperate for any sign of you. He asks your name. Still, there’s no answer. He takes it upon himself to do the unthinkable. Maybe he’s crazy, maybe people will think he’s insane. He doesn’t care, all he wants is to see you. He steps under the red archway. He feels it within his body. The bells that hang by strings chime, the water from inside the stone fountain begins to flow upwards like slow motion evaporation. Then all of a sudden, he’s falling.

Winds rip his clothes and rip through his hair, he’s screaming. Everything is a blur of white clouds and flying animals made of water. He hears the thunder and sees the lightning too, it’s all consuming and real. He knows he’s not on earth anymore. That’s when the clouds begin to part, he sees you sitting there. You’re crouched up on a cloud, head buried in your knees. He screams for you, causing you to snap your head up at the voice. It can’t be. It can’t be Mark. But it is, the boy who is your soulmate is falling out of the sky above, emerging from the clouds and reaching out for you.

 The wind gusts him away from the cloud you’re sitting on, “MARK!’

“Y/N!”

You don’t care at this point. You jump off your cloud, the wind current carrying you to Mark before you’re free falling with him. You outstretch your hand to him, your voice can’t be heard in the screaming wind. He reaches to you, straining his face while doing so. When he manages to grab hold of you, he’s surprised to know it feels like he’s holding a person given your body. You fall together, hands enclasped in hands. You yell, “What are you doing here?! You shouldn’t be here!”

Mark holds on so tight, “I had to see you! I’m not letting you go, I don’t care! Aren’t you my soulmate? You have to stay with me!”

“Mark, if I go back down there, we all have to pay the price. Just let me go!”

“I’m not doing it y/n! I won’t do it! I don’t care! I choose you over the weather! I choose you over the sky! I just need you.”

You smile at him. Oh, Mark. Then, something else happens. Mark’s teardrop starts to glow golden, the light enveloping the entirety of his arm and spreading to his body. Even though your hand is made of water now, your sun starts to ping in syncopation with Mark’s mark. Golden light shimmers, rays exploding like sunshine as Mark holds you close. He’s there and he’s real, you can smell his scent of body soap that he uses, he’s so warm. The world blurs together in a series of colors and emotions, blues and yellows and silvers. It’s layers of rain and layers of snow, it’s as if you’re falling out of the cosmos and it’s endless.The sensation of falling ends. You open your eyes slowly, you find yourself cradled in Mark’s chest on the hospital’s rooftop. Your head aches and it throbs like hell, but still, you jump back when you realize that your body isn’t liquid anymore. Mark pulls your shirt down to check your shoulder, it’s nothing but human flesh and bone. You gaze back at Mark, “You saved me. You pulled me back down.”

It doesn’t take any time for Mark to kiss you the hardest he’s ever kissed you. You both sit there for a while, cradled in each other’s arms. Mark digs his nose into your neck, “I can’t live without you. You’re my soulmate, there’s no one else.”

You nod as you run your fingers through his hair, “You and me against it all then.”

1 year later

>Where did the time go?

Where did the time go?

When did you become someone I used to know?

Where did the time go?

After the day that Mark pulled you down from the sky, you thought that you’d spend every second with each other after. Instead, it was the opposite. Because you were on earth, the rains and the flooding never stopped. You weren’t able to control the weather anymore and the outcome that the forecasters had predicted became true. Almost 50 percent of the city was already underwater and still sinking, many people died trying to escape the floods or had to quickly evacuate. It disrupted everyone’s lives but at the time, Mark thought it was worth it for you. After that day, you told him you decided on something. You told him that you loved him and that you’d always find your way back to him, no matter what. After all, soulmates become linked. During your last semester of university, you wanted to spend time with your family and to travel the world with your aunt- in case the sky were to claim you once again. In case you were told that the world would end tomorrow, you wanted memories that lasted and time to tell all the people in your life that you loved them. You wanted to heal from your past, trying to find ways to connect to your parents like meeting their relatives or reading your father’s journal. 

Somehow, Mark took it well. Though he was sad for several days, as were your friends that you were leaving (yes, you explained to them the entire situation, they still have a hard time believing it). You knew that things would change. You’d pick up small updates here and there, graduation was approaching and Mark had chosen to participate in a training program to become a singer. Haechan found his soulmate at his work, the other boys doing their own thing. You hadn’t seen Mark in almost an entire year. Now, today was the day that you and your aunt would be coming back from a backpacking trip in Europe. You knew Mark would also be coming home the same day. On the plane, you thought: Did he forget you? Would he have found someone else? Does he remember it all? 

The moment you landed, you changed at home- walking over to the coffee shop where you and Mark had planned business meetings frequently back then. Walking through your city felt nostalgic to you, the way your younger self ran through the streets, praying for tomorrow’s sunshine or the way you and Mark would hang out together most weekends. Even the memories of hanging out with your friends before class, walking Mosby with your aunt during the autumn season, and pasting photographs on your dorm room wall felt like long ago. Upon entering the establishment, you closed your umbrella before taking a seat at an empty table. A barista took your order, who happened to be one of your other classmates from university. Even seeing them after a year, which isn’t too long- still felt surreal. 

The bell on the cafe’s door chimes, the barista at the counter greeting the stranger. That’s when a familiar voice makes you snap your head up. There he is, standing in the flesh in front of you. Mark sports black dress pants and a button up, his figure taller, leaner- more muscular, has he been working out? Mark’s hair is gelled back, different from how he looked before. It looks good on him. His familiar smile spread across his face, a teardrop glowing golden on his hand, “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”

You nod, running into his welcoming arms. 

@czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @dreamwritersnet​

[joezworld]

Fools in Love (2/10)

This, and all the stories after it, exist because I saw this post. Damn you @mean-scarlet-deceiver I was using my free time!

Thank You Donna Summer

1977

"I'm telling you, there's something wrong with me!" Bear protested as the workmen slammed his maintenance hatches shut. He'd been feeling unusual for some time - nothing major, but a niggling feeling of something being off. It was driving him nutty, and the men could find nothing wrong.

"Well boy-o," said Clive the foreman. "At this point the only thing we haven't done at this point is take you to pieces - and we aren’t doing that!"

"But it feels weird!"

"Tough. We'll deal with it during your next overhaul." The man said firmly, before following his men out the door of the shed.

"And people call Henry a hypochondriac." Muttered Gordon sleepily.

"He actually had boiler sludge and you know it!" The Hymek snapped as his crankshaft did another flip-flop. "And I'm not saying this just for attention - do you think I like having my hatches pulled every night?"

"Considering how often it's happened this month, I'd say that you must." Gordon sighed as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Bear seethed for the rest of the night, and was still snappish when he was backed down onto The Limited in the morning.

"You are in a dreadful state today. Are you feeling all right?" The lead coach asked as the passengers boarded.

"No, I'm not." Bear scowled, and said no more.

"Right," the coach murmured. Hopefully nothing goes wrong today, or he'll be apoplectic. She thought to herself.

-------

Kellsthorpe Road

Predictably, things went very wrong.

Late passengers, late connections, a cow on the line, and a broken signal arm meant that the train was almost an hour late by the time Bear and his coaches staggered into Kellsthorpe.

To add injury to insult, something was now noticeably wrong with Bear.

In addition to whatever imagined maladies he had, there was a new shooting pain in his gearbox that got worse each time his driver changed up or down. 

As they set off from the station, there was a loud CRACK from Bear's gearbox, and an even louder shout of pain from his mouth as the train ground to a halt.

"I told you that there was something wrong!" Bear hissed as his driver slid underneath his front bogie.

He came out moments later, drenched in oil.

"Well, that's torn it!" He groaned as he wiped his hands. "A seal failed and all the oil is gone from your transmission. I'm surprised we made it this far before you disintegrated something."

And that was that. Bear couldn’t move under his own power, so a rescue engine was summoned while the passengers grumbled unhappily about the delay. Bear was also unhappy, but had passed the point of being able to speak without turning the air blue with swears, so he stayed silent.

"As much as I sympathize with them, they should be grateful that they aren't taking a bus!" The lead coach whispered as the signal arm dropped, indicating that the rescue engine was approaching.

Bear hoped it wasn’t James - he'd never hear the end of it if the red engine discovered a perceived weakness.

As the engine puffed into view, Bear's anger and frustration evaporated as he saw that it wasn't James, but instead Henry.

"Am I ever glad to see you!" He called out, eliciting a broad smile from his friend.

"What kind of an engine would I be if I ignored a friend in need?" Henry said as his crew coupled them together.

Bear smiled in return, ignoring the sudden resurgence of his nausea.

---

Talking seemed to help settle his systems - then again, talking with Henry always seemed to help his emotional state; conversation flowed between them with an effortless ease that Bear couldn’t really replicate with anyone else - and the trip to Crovan's Gate was filled with idle conversation about what had gone on since they'd last spoken:

James had once again annoyed a visiting diesel into apoplectic fury with an inane series of questions,

Douglas was still fuming over the officiating that cost Cronk's rugby team their match,

Thomas was still driving everyone on his branch crazy with ABBA - he knew the words, but had no singing ability at all,

And there was a new song that was sweeping the Island's record stores, to the point where a lot of the younger cleaners were bemoaning their long work days, as it meant that they couldn't get to the store before all copies sold out.

"I heard a bit of it in the sheds last week," Henry confided as he rolled tender-first towards Crovan's Gate. I think I'm getting old, because I did not like it at all."

"And yet you look just as dashing as you did on the day I met you."

"One of the perks of being made out of metal I suppose. It's the secret to my eternally good looks."

"But I'm made of metal, so isn't it my secret as well?"

"Gasp. I guess that it will have to be our  secret to eternal beauty then."

Bear's smile couldn’t cover the wince that accompanied another unusual feeling from deep within his frame.

"What's wrong?" Henry asked, his voice colored with concern.

"I don't know. I've been feeling unusual for a while now. They've gone through every one of my systems and they can't find anything."

"What does it feel like?"

"It's very strange - my driver says it sounds like indigestion. At some points I get this feeling of, like, like my insides are moving in a way that they shouldn't be, and everything feels light and fluttery... are you all right?"

Henry didn't answer. His concerned expression had suddenly turned into a painful grimace, while steam began pouring out of places it shouldn't be.

For the second time that day, The Limited ground to halt as Henry’s driver stopped the train and dampened his fire.

"I think this train is just cursed," he said as he poked his head in-between Henry’s wheels. "Something has ruptured, but I have no idea what."

Bear closed his eyes in frustration. "If Spamcan shows up as our rescue engine, I..."

He trailed off as Henry laughed.

--

More than an hour later, the train finally limped into Crovan's Gate. A very bemused Class 46 that had been summoned from the mainland was now towing Henry and Bear, neither of whom could stop laughing long enough to explain the joke.

As she shunted them into the Works yard, they finally were able to tell her why they were laughing. The 46 regarded the two with amusement in her eyes. "You two are a pair and a half, you know that?"

"I had an inkling." Henry said, grateful that he'd been laughing too hard to pay any attention to his ruptured steam line before the men dropped his fire. Now that there wasn’t any steam pressure, it hurt a lot less.

Bear, whose gearbox had gone numb, was still chuckling at the absurdity of this 'superb rescue'.

The 46 rolled away as the workmen arrived, and any further conversation was halted as they began pulling tools from cases.

--

That night

"Oh, that's right! I wanted to ask you," Henry said suddenly. "What did those feelings feel like? Indigestion?"

"Yes," Bear said after a moment. "Indigestion, crossed with a broken motor mount. It feels strange, like I'm being filled with helium and lead at the same time."

"This is going to feel incredibly strange, but I feel the same way." Henry said after a moment. "It's like I have an ache in the pit of my boiler, but at the same time I feel energetic - like I'm pulling the express."

"Does it change sometimes?"

"Yes it does. Are you going to tell me that sometimes you feel better and nauseous at the same time?"

"Yes! I feel that way right now as a matter of fact."

"As do I. " Henry paused to acknowledge the incredulous situation they were in. "What a pair we are - Miss Spamcan was right! We break down on the same day, and we have the same phantom illnesses."

"And we're both green."

"And we're both green! How could I forget that? If you squint hard enough, we're essentially the same engine."

"Will you two shut up!" Came a cry from across the works. Several of the workmen were clustered around a radio. "We're trying to listen!"

Turning back to the radio, the man turned up the volume knob, allowing a thumping bass line to fill the works.

"I think this is that song I was talking about earlier." Henry whispered to Bear.

Ooh it's so good, it's so good

It's so good, it's so good

It's so good

Ooh I'm in love, I'm in love

I'm in love, I'm in love

I'm in love...

--

The song was very long - apparently it was some kind of "extended club mix", and the workers were very enthusiastic about it.

Henry and Bear... were not.

"Honestly, I'm quite nonplussed." Bear remarked after spending a few moments searching for the right words. "It's just the same words over and over again."

"It's for dancing mate!" Said one of the men as he swept up. "You're supposed to feel the beat and get moving!"

"I can't dance." Bear looked down at the rails. And I can only really move forward and backwards."

"Maybe you could spin around on the turntable, and that would count." Henry chimed in.

"I think I'd just get sick."

"Perhaps."

"I cannot believe you two!" Cried a young cleaner. "That was an amazing song! How can you not like it?"

"It's repetitive and goes nowhere." Henry said. "It's repeating the same words over and over again. I understand that she 'feels love', but she never said what she was feeling. What does love feel like?"

That brought the entire works to a stop. The men looked from each other nervously. Henry was puzzled. "What did I say?"

"Nothing!" Said one of the men quickly. "It's just... uhh... oh would you lookatthetimegoodbye!"

He fled into the staff break room, followed by several of his co-workers.

Henry and Bear watched with bafflement as the shed emptied at lightning speed. Soon, only two cleaners were left - Karl, the senior cleaner who had been on Sodor since the 1940's, and a young man whom neither engine knew.

"Children, the lot of 'em." Karl groused as he cleared up a patch of spilled oil. "It's like they've never been asked a difficult question."

"What was the question?" Henry, Bear, and the young cleaner asked together.

"Seriously?" Karl looked up from the oil slick. "None of ye know what 'e said?"

"No."

"Nope."

"I have no idea."

Karl groaned as ge held his head in his hands. "Love, you great ignoramus! You asked about what love felt like!"

"So?" None of Henry’s confusion was lifted.

"You're an engine!" Karl said after a moment of shocked, silent, gesticulation. "Engines don't ask what that means!"

"Why not?" This came from the young cleaner, who cocked his head in confusion.

"I- I- you- it's just..." Karl trailed off, his boisterous shock deflating into a curious silence. "I don't know. Now that I think about it, I don't think it's ever happened before."

"Well it's happened now." Said Bear, now genuinely curious about the answer to the question. "What does love feel like?"

Karl looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He turned to the young cleaner for help, and got none.

"Don't look at me. I'm still single. You're the one who married his childhood sweetheart."

Karl glowered for a moment before pulling himself together. "Fine. You lads want to know what love is? It's like a sickness. And you enjoy it. Just thinking about whoever you're smitten on and your pulse races, breath quickens, and you feel like you're going to vomit. Every time I saw my Maria before I told her how I felt, I wanted to run and hide, but never wanted to be more than more than a foot from her. She made me feel like shouting from the rooftops that I loved her, and I was fookin' terrified that she'd find out. It was awful!"

"What did you end up doing?" The young cleaner asked.

"I told 'er! It helped that I'd known her for years, but I just sacked up and told her how I felt." He paused, fiddling with his wedding ring as he did so. "And she said she loved me too. And then I threw up on her shoes."

He smirked slightly. "I was not smooth. But she still said yes! And that's all that matters."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "So you feel sick and that's love? That's what that song was about?"

"No! It's enjoyable! I wouldn't trade how I felt for all the gold in the world, and neither would Maria. We've been married for 38 years, and I still love her with all the strength in my body. I'd do anything for her."

He glanced over at the now-quiet radio. "That song is about how it feels to be in love, from a youngster's view - your emotions run hot, and you can't imagine anything but the object of your affections."

He turned to the young cleaner, caught up in the passion of his speech. "And you would do well to remember that it won't always feel like that, laddie! At some point, those emotions will calm back down, and you'll be left with a quiet set of feelings. And if you're stupid, ye might think that it's over, but it isn't! That just means that you've pulled the iron out of the fire, and it's cooled into a strong, solid love that will last the ages. You follow that advice and you'll stay a happy man!"

Henry and Bear watched in surprise. They'd both known Karl for years, and had never seen him this openly emotive before.

Karl blinked as he calmed down. "Well, I wasn't expecting that to come out, but yeah, that's what love feels like."

Glancing at the clock, his eyebrows raised into his graying hair. "Cripes, it's past quitting time. I've got to be home in time for dinner!"

He quickly packed up his cleaning supplies and dragged the young cleaner into the break room. In just a few short minutes, the works were empty save for Henry and Bear.

"Humans are strange." Bear said finally.

"That statement assumes that we are normal."

"What makes you think that we're not?"

"Fair point."

"Bear."

-

As the night wore on, easy conversation slowly turned into sleepy conversation, then yawning, before the two engines decided to turn in for the night.

About 15 minutes passed before Bear's eyes snapped open. The penny had just dropped, and it felt like the farthing wasn’t too far behind. 

"Henry?"

"Yes?" Henry evidently wasn't asleep either.

"Do you remember how we acted in 1971?"

"Why yes, I do. I also remember how we acted in 1969, 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, and 1976." Henry’s voice sounded calm, which meant that he was probably on the verge of screaming.

"Interesting." Then again, Bear wasn’t too far behind him on 'nearly screaming' front. "Do you also remember that the indigestion that we both seem to be suffering from -"

"Increases whenever I see or talk or think about you? Yes."

"Henry, are we feeling love? Right now?"

"Yes. I believe we are."

"Good. What do we do now?"

"I have no idea."

"Neither do I."

"Fuck."

[astraeagreengrass]

Delicate

Steve has an important question to ask you

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 2.051

Warnings: Idiots in love, fluff

A/N: I couldn't let this month end without submitting something for 30 Days of Chris, a wonderful initiative by @jtargaryen18​ to celebrate Chris Evans and his characters. This was proof-read by @xbuchananbarnes​. The title and inspiration came from Taylor Swift's Delicate. I hope you like it ♡

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate (Delicate) Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it?

Thunder clapped in deafening noise, briefly drowning out the relentless honking of cars stranded on 6th Avenue.

Storms weren't that unusual for New York City, but you always felt like they didn't belong - as if even Mother Nature's mood swings couldn't compare to the might of the concrete jungle, with it’s skyscrapers reaching as high as the sky itself. The city was a man-made wonder, cemented with defiance instead of concrete. It was the perfect place for a superhero to call home.

And his home was too far from yours, literally and figuratively. Still, Steve Rogers was nothing if not worth the effort of bracing the traffic from Brooklyn to Manhattan during rush hour on a rainy Friday evening.

You’d taken the day off work to get dolled up at your cousin's salon. Tried on different updos, changed your nail color twice and your lipstick shade thrice. Spent the savings you didn't really have on a dress you couldn't really afford and got blisters on your feet from practicing walking with stilettos. Going to a Stark Foundation gala was not a typical night in your life, even if you were maybe, sort of, dating Captain America.

It was a grey zone, the same shade as the heavy clouds that overcast the days you spent apart. Steve was spring; he was the early morning sun and fresh flowers blooming. A a week without him and the city - hostile and relentless and screaming his name at every corner - darkened.

You’d gone longer without seeing him, of course, but that was before he flooded your veins with golden infatuation. Steve Rogers was in your blood now and you didn’t even notice how he got there. Was it in late January, having coffee together after months of running the same trail? Or possibly in early March when you walked the Brooklyn bridge at night, just you, him and the specks of snow lazily trickling down from the heavens as Steve kissed you for the first time? Perhaps it was yesterday when his throathy, tired voice whispered through the phone: "I miss you".

You hadn't talked about it, whatever it was. You'd run together everyday, eat pizza at tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants and kiss - soft pecks and gentle brushes to his nose and cheeks that'd turn into a tug of your bottom lip and a swipe of his tongue - but you weren't his girlfriend. He hadn't asked you to be. And maybe if he was any other guy you wouldn't have such anxiety over not knowing, but Steve was old fashioned.

The fragility of you and him was haunting. If Steve was spring then you were autumn, falling apart for him little by little, like brown leaves disentangling from their trees. It was terrifying to now know if he would be there to catch you before you hit the ground.

And yet, hope lingered. It lived in the scratch on fingertips as you paid the taxi driver and in the stray raindrops that wet your skin ahead of the doorman coming to your rescue with an umbrella. It trickled from your words as you gave your name to the hostess and swooshed the air around the skirt of your dress as you entered the main part of the building.

Hope was a tall, blond-haired man waiting for you on the top floor, the first person you saw when the doors open and you exited the elevator. Steve's handsome face breaks into a relieved smile, tugging at every one of your heartstrings. With one, two, three strides he has in you in his arms.

"Hi," he breathes out in your hair. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course," you whisper back, because there's honestly nowhere else you'd rather be.

Steve is sure his bones have dissolved, and the only thing keeping him standing is the press of your body against his. He feels frail, weak as he was before Erskine's serum; he feels strong, stronger than science could ever make him. He dies a thousand deaths and comes alive a million times in the brief, yet infinite moments of your hug.

"I love you," he almost screamed to the crook of your neck, holding it back at the last second.

Tony’s warned rung in his mind:

"Things are more casual these days, Capsicle," he’d explained one morning over breakfast. "You don't really ask if she wants to be your girlfriend. It happens naturally."

But Steve wanted to ask. He wanted to meet your parents and stress over making a good impression. He wanted to court you. He wanted to introduce you to every single person in this lousy party as his girl.

A throat being cleared broke you apart. A pretty redhead woman stands a few feet away, hands clasped behind her back and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You must be Y/N,” she smirks. “I’m Natasha.”

She was quicker than Steve's protest, snatching you by the arm away from him and into the glittering crowd.

"Romanoff!" he exclaimed.

"Get over it, Rogers," she retorted, then, as if you two were old friends, whispered: "Everyone's been dying to meet you."

Natasha maneuvered your bodies between the guests, nodding politely to some and waving to others, while Steve followed like a lost puppy. Unlike her, Steve wasn't as good as excusing himself from the admirers and he swiftly lost you in the sea of adulation.

By the bar, two men watched the scene, failing miserably at hiding their laughs. You knew them, of course. Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, Steve's best friends and teammates. Avengers - just like the woman holding onto you.

Bucky was more reserved, offering you a handshake and a pleasant smile, but Sam was a hugger and a hell of a good one. He had a mischievous grin when he said:

"I can't believe I've finally met the famous Y/N!"

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"I'm famous?!"

Bucky snickered.

"Damn right you are! Do you know how long we've been asking Cap to bring you over? I must say, there were times I thought you weren't real," he shrugged, still grinning, and Natasha playfully punched him in the arm.

"Ignore bird brain over here," she said. "Although he's right: it did take too long for Steve to introduce you."

"Only he didn't," Bucky quipped. "I'm sure I saw you interrupting their moment by the elevator."

"He was never gonna let her go if I didn't!" she justified. "Besides, it was his turn to interact with the mayor. I heard his monologue for the past two parties and I'm not doing it again."

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Steve a few yards away chatting - or rather, listening - to the mayor. He had his hands on his waist and a frown between his eyebrows, but, as if he felt you watching, his face relaxed and he smiled - bright and warm and Steve.

Sam whistled.

"Damn, he's smitten."

The mayor held Steve up for several more minutes - enough for you to decide to not vote for him if he tried reelection. And although it was a nerve-wracking to be in their presence at first, Natasha, Sam and Bucky engaged you in friendly conversation as if you'd know each other for ages, laced with easy going banter and funny anecdotes about Steve.

"So when we get to the first loop, Stevie's gone green," Bucky recounts "And lemme tell ya, I've never knew someone so skinny could throw up so much. The girl in the car in front of us started screaming because his guts went straight to her hair."

You laughed, a little louder than you would when talking to someone for the first time, but perhaps that was because Natasha made her drinks on the stronger side or because you could just picture Steve throwing up at Coney Island.

"Please tell me you're not telling her about that time at the Cyclone," someone groans behind you and a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist.

You'd failed to notice how beautiful he looked when you walked in, or rather, how beautiful his outfit was. Steve was always handsome, but seeing him in a suit brought butterflies to your stomach. Your gaze followed the sharp line of the jacket, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders, until they met his lapels and tie. He was an art piece, a sculpture, and he was looking at you.

"I'm stealing her back, Romanoff," he announced, helping you out of the bar stool before your new friend could protest. Whisking you away to a makeshift dance floor, Steve twirled you before tucking you closer than what would be considered well-behaved. His chest was as hard as a rock under the smooth cotton of his shirt, which smelled heavenly.

"I'm sorry about Natasha," he whispered to the crown of your head.

"It's ok," and it really was. "Your friends are nice."

Steve scoffed.

"They like giving me shit."

"I think they love you," you said, and only after your words were out in the open you realized their double meaning.

He pulled back by an inch, just enough to tilt your head up.

"I love them too," he smiled, and every single piece of you broke down in passion.

Neither of you were good dancers, but for a while you swayed side to side to the smooth sounds of the live band. It could've been minutes or hours - time was irrelevant next to the magnitude of Steve Rogers - but when he spoke again the room was noticeably emptier.

"I need to ask you something."

You nodded, wordlessly telling him to carry on.

"I know things are different these days," he mumbled, and anyone less attuned than he was probably wouldn't have heard it clearly. "But I feel bad about possibly leading you on."

Oh, no.

Oh, God, no.

You stalled, dropping your arms down and away from him, mouth twisting in a perfectly shocked "O".

"You're joking,” you stuttered. "You brought me here to say you're leading me on?"

It made no sense. You'd been talking everyday, even while he was away for his mission. You'd met his freaking friends. You hated being the girl that freaked out over being dumped - were you being dumped? Or was Steve just not into you the way you were into him? - but disappointment rung loud in your ears and left a bitter taste in your tongue.

"What? No!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to!"

"You don't want to?"

"I don't want to lead you on but I feel like I am," he blurted out, cheeks getting pinker by the second.

"Oh, that is rich," the remaining guests were beginning to stare now, but you couldn't care less. "Are you even sure of anything at all?"

"I know that I don't want to keep doing this," he motioned for the space between you, “if we're not on the same page."

That was it then. The end. And you'd spend so much money on this dress!

"Well, I'm sorry for wasting your time," you whispered, tears threatening to spill at any moment. "I really thought you liked me."

You turned to leave, disappear down the elevator and forget this night ever existed, but Steve grabbed your arm as if you weighed nothing, infuriating you even more.

"What?" you seethed. "You'd fooled me for months. Can't you let me go now?"

"You think I don't like you?" he was flabbergasted.

"Clearly you don't since you feel oh so terrible about 'possibly leading me on'," you air quoted his previous statement.

"I don't want to lead you on into thinking I don't want anything serious," he said. "I want serious. I want you to be my girlfriend."

Yes.

Oh, God, yes.

"Really?" you gasped.

"Really," and nothing was more beautiful than his smile. You'd keep it in your mind's locket forever.  "I'm in love with you, Y/N."

Outside, the rain was still pouring. It would go on throughout the weekend, washing away the last of winter, but inside spring had arrived in the soft, welcoming lips of Steve Rogers.

By the bar, Sam slid a hundred dollar bill to Bucky's metal hand.

"I told you he'd do it,” the Sergeant smirked.

"Yeah, yeah. I just hope he gets better by the time he proposes."

[fandomsonrequests]

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 5]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 2.2k+

summary:  It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: part 5 here we go! i’m sorry if its taking too long, school started so i dont have much time to write as often ;^; this is kind of unedited (im using grammarly sue me sujsk) so im sorry for any errors! 

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself​ @barcelona-sergei​ @minihongjoong​ @i-purrple-u​

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The Capitol was certainly different from the quaint town of Trelark. 

The Capitol was… colorful to put it simply. Several people milled about the streets, bustling around and going about their daily lives. What the city folk wore was flashier and livelier than the dull brown or grey tones of the clothes the townsfolk wore. It sparked some sort of insecurity within you, making you clutch at the fabric of your pants as you look out the carriage window, seeing young women your age float through the streets in bright yellow skirts or green pleated dresses. 

The streets were wider and tiled with smooth stones compared to the rocky ground that rocked the carriages up in the village of Trelark. The shops were bigger and the smell- the smell of the place was better for some reason. Delicious aromas of freshly baked bread or roasted pig wafted through the air instead of some goat or horse dung. It made your stomach rumble. You had eaten your packed lunch and shared it with your friends in the carriage that brought you over to the Capitol. 

Speaking of which-

“Oh my gods, look at that dress,” Siyeon says as she presses herself against the carriage window and points to a dress in the display window of a seamstress’s shop. It had a sweetheart neckline with bell sleeves in an elegant shade of red, a transparent lace on the hem. Despite how simple it looked, you only wondered how expensive it was. 

“I’d give anything to wear that.” She continues and releases a small whine as she slumps back into her seat. “I wish this Selection was for a princess instead of a knight.”

Raviv, who was beside you, laughed at the young woman across you. “Maybe next time. You never know.” He says as he picks at the loose threads of his shirt again. “You can just drop out y’know?”

“And miss out living in the palace and bring shame to my family at the same time? Uh, no thanks. I’ll do my best until I give out.” 

You roll your eyes and huff in amusement at the two as they continue to banter. You loved the two a lot- you really did. Siyeon was like the sister you never had and Raviv had a special place in your heart. But you on the other hand were firm in your resolve and promised to yourself that you’d try to outdo them without having to step on them. 

You saw more of the city as the carriages pulled through the cobbled streets of the Capitol. Sure it had its fair share of beauty but not every place was perfect. You caught a glimpse of some street kids, covered in dirt from head to toe, in the alleyways between houses and shops. Some of them would be begging for some alms while others just went about and played. 

Suppose it couldn’t be helped- the world was cruel like that. But it still breaks your heart every time. You didn’t have much yourself but you were happy and had a roof over your head. Maybe life for the unfortunate was a lot tougher here in the Capitol. 

Eventually, the carriages that came from the village of Trelark finally reached the lavish gates of the castle. There was a drawbridge, just like you imagined, but what you didn’t anticipate was the lavish gate that lay behind it. 

As soon as the drawbridge lowered, a rather beautiful gate greeted your eyes. There were pillars made of stone and marble running down the sides while gold figurines of horses decorated the top. Black iron bars with gold-tipped ends that pointed up into the sky lined the space between each pillar. 

But the gate was nothing compared to the palace itself. 

The three of you all looked out the window, eyes gleaming and mouth agape as you gawked at the sight that beheld you. The palace was surprisingly similar to the ones described in the books- pearly and white, tall with several towers striking out from each side, buttresses that supported the building, and a large flag bearing the current family’s crews right on top of the centermost tower. The palace was huge. You couldn’t even see where the walls ended on each side. 

“You know,” Raviv starts out softly. “If we were ever supposed to go through this place, I think we’d get lost.” 

“No kidding,” Siyeon says, just as quiet like him. “I think I’d be starving and thirsty the minute I find my way back to the entrance.” 

“Or one of the undead.” You added, and lightly kicked at Siyeon’s foot. 

She then proceeded to flop down against the seat and rise with her hands in front of her, making growling noises as she imitated a zombie, lunging at the both of you. The trio laughs at the antics and pushes her back onto her seat when she pretends to take a bite of your arm. 

“Oi, behave in there!” Called out the driver and patted the side of the carriage, effectively hushing you and your companions. 

You couldn’t help the giggle that escapes you though. “Whoops.” 

~

“Seonghwa there you are!” The Queen exclaims when he arrives, lapels of his clothes properly pinned and his crown sitting on top of his soft locks. 

Seonghwa greets his parents who were sitting upon their thrones, awaiting the delegates that were to arrive at any moment. He kisses each of their cheeks and sat on the right side of his father’s throne, back straight and head high- just as he was taught since the age of five. 

A few servants ran around the throne room, sweeping up the linoleum floors and dusting the marble columns. The velvet rug that led from the entrance up to the elevated floor that held the thrones were freshly pressed and practically spotless. The King wanted to leave a good first impression on his people. 

“How many do you think there will be, father?” Seonghwa asks, looking over to the man. 

The King only straightened up and looked ahead. “Many,” He replies without turning his head to his son. “They come from all parts of our kingdom. I think half of this room may be filled.” 

The prince manages to hold back a sigh. Instead, he exhales through his nose and curls his fingers around the armrests of his seat. He thought it was a bit of an overkill to have all these people train just to protect him. Despite the assassin coming from a different kingdom, he thought that bringing other people from within their kingdom imposed a risk as well- you never know if there could be traitors out there.

Nevertheless, he just learned to trust his father’s decision. He knew that his father was wise and well-aware of his decisions. He just hoped this method wouldn’t backfire… 

“They’re all here already your highness,” A servant announces as they enter the throne room. “There’s quite more than a handful.”

With a nod and a wave of his hand, the king tells the servant to allow the delegates to enter. The servant gives a low bow and exits the door only to return a few moments later with the young adults. Quietly, they filed into the throne room, wearing different garments that fit with the place they came from. 

People from the field lands wore hard, boots dried with mud and loose-fitting clothes to help them move around. Folks near the dock wore almost similar clothing but had more loose-fitting shoes and or sandals. The delegates from the mountain had already shed off their coats as the weather in the Capitol was much warmer. And finally, the folks from the city were more well-dressed, with button-ups, well-tailored pants, and sturdy boots. 

You glance around as you shuffle in with your companions near the edge of the group. You hadn’t anticipated this many people to attend. It made your stomach churn with nervousness- there was big competition here. But you weren’t taught to quit this early- you were going to push on until you give out. 

Others slinked away or flinched whenever a city-dweller looked over at them. It was a bit hard not to- they just radiated some sort of energy. An aura of power to be exact. 

Seonghwa scans the faces of the delegates. They were all so different- in height, background, wear, and everything else. Many looked like they were reluctant to be there but many also had this look of determination in their eyes. 

There was one gaze that caught his in particular. It belonged to a woman, maybe his age, standing near the back. He could tell from her garments, specifically the coat that hung over her arm, that she lived in one of the mountain villages. 

Her lips were pursed together as she observed the palace around her. There were wonder and awe in them- but as soon as her gaze landed on him and his family, they steeled into something harder, one that read that it would take more than would think to take her down. 

Seonghwa is pulled out of his thoughts by his father’s voice welcoming all the participants to the palace. 

“Welcome to the Capitol,” The King booms, a warm smile on his face and his arms outstretched. “I’ll keep this brief, but I’d like to thank you for coming all this way. It means a lot to me, my wife, and of course- my son.” 

All eyes shift over to the prince. It wasn’t the first time many sets of eyes were trained onto him but he felt nervous this particular time. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the circumstances were different, that they weren’t looking up at him while he stood beside his father during speeches or city celebrations or whenever he had to deliver the occasional speech. Yeah, that must be it.

The young man folded an arm over his torso and bowed a perfect ninety-degree angle. It was a silent gesture of his gratefulness for their efforts, eyes glistening as if all the stars were placed into them. 

The King looked to his side and gave a nod. Two men came out from behind a pillar and stood at the foot of the elevated platform that held the thrones. 

The first was a tall and burly man. A long white but faded scar ran from the top of his head and across his brow, just catching the edges of his eyelids. Because of the long healed injury- part of his injured eye had a milky-blue color to it, showing that he was partially blind. HIs muscled under his pressed dress suit flexed as he gave a bow and straightened up. He was the literal embodiment of tall, dark, and strong. Despite this though, he radiated a warm and inviting energy- especially with that soft smile of his. 

The second was the man most people hated. It was the nobleman that went to the town of Trelark. He wore less warm clothing but his stupid purple feather plume hat remained. His silver beard seemed extra curled today and a shit-eating smirk was plastered across his lips. 

The majority of the folk that came from the mountain villages had a sour look on their face when they saw the nobleman. They tried to mask it though to avoid any offense that it could bring to the king. 

“This is Byron,” The King introduces the first man. “He shall be training all of you till one of you manages to succeed as the prince’s protector. And this is Duke Hae-seong, one of my royal advisers and a Duke of the kingdom. He shall help manage you and educate you around the protocols of the palace and the kingdom.”

“Yes, that’s right.” The Queen says softly, voice warm and gentle. “It is important not to only train the body but the mind as well. The prince’s protector needs to be knowledgeable of the kingdom’s laws and what his or her rights are as a protector.” 

It was a very wise move on the royal family’s part and it made sense. They didn’t want the protector to overstep any boundaries, whether intentional or not or have any abuse in power on their part. 

Many delegates didn’t seem pleased to learn that Hae-seong would be tutoring them though. He was impatient and very brash- he clearly was displeased with the way the king and queen took commoners into the palace without a single thought of doubt; he was just good at hiding it.

“Ladies, please follow Mina to your quarters. Gentlemen, Sir Byron will be the one to take you to yours. I hope you don’t mind sharing with others.” The King says and gestures to the crowd gathered in front of them. “And to show our gratitude, we shall be throwing you a feast tonight to commemorate your arrival.”

This seemed to brighten up the spirits of the young delegates. Energy fills them as the adrenaline of excitement rushes through their bodies. A few of them now their heads gratefully to the royal couple while the rest showed their appreciation through bright smiles.

“I thank you all once again for going through all this trouble. Now, freshen up. You’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

The group bows down to the family before them and separate into two groups to head over to their bunkers to rest and recuperate. You look back at the royal family again, seeing them step down from the throne and head to wherever they needed to be in this gigantic castle. 

This was it. The game was on- and you were determined to win it.

[tempesthound]

I tilt my body to the side as I move my motorcycle between the dead cars on the highway; the wind hits the top half of my face, making my eyes water a little. I have to slow my bike to a stop as I got to the highest point on this stretch of road. I could see just what I had come to: a traffic jam. Pulling my hood off my head, I take a drink from my canteen, swishing the stale water around in my mouth before swallowing. It had been a month tops since humanity’s extinction event, and looking around, you would think it had been years. I look inside the car beside me; a corpse laid forward, its head on the steering wheel. It had smashed into the front end of the vehicle. I guessed this lady must have broken her neck upon impact. Pulling my scarf over my nose, I grab my hunting knife and open the door, dragging the lady out. I gagged a little as I searched her body, then the inside of the car. A box of pop tarts under the driver’s seat bless whoever is listening. Popping the trunk, I find a knitted blanket, some chapstick, a backpack with some girl products, which is always an excellent find. I check a few more cars and find a few things before I siphon some gas into my bike. It gave me a few minutes to think about it before.

“Ali, be careful. I heard about some strange attacks happening lately; why don’t you extend your brake a little, tell these attacks to cool down,” Sam says as she touches my arm with a concerned look in her eyes. I sigh, and roll my eyes as I lean on the hood of my car. “I will be fine. My dad didn’t spend years and hours training me just for me to fail at stopping some attacker. Also, I worked too hard to get into this college not to go; I’ll be fine, and it’s just four days from here. If it gets crazy, I’ll come back out to this middle of Nowhere town.”

I should have stayed looking back now; it wasn’t even three weeks later that the world went to hell; I had been making my way back to my hometown. My entire life, I had made jokes about being ‘Zombie apocalypse ready,’ so when I saw the signs, I emptied my bank account on supplies. Water purifiers, battery packs, a few MRE rations, first aid kits, things like that. Then I got in my car and drove, staying off the highways. I headed for the backwoods, but first, I had to go through Missouri. There I lost my car but gained my bike, which I hated for the exposure but loved the gas I saved using it. I heard about the safe zone in Atlanta. Did I believe in it? No. Shaking my head, I cap off my small gas can and strap it down in the saddlebag that I had on the side of my bike, putting everything else in my bag. I get on my bike and start it up. I look around before I take off-putting in one headphone. I start my music, something I had because of several battery packs that were my veritable treasures to keep my phone working for as long as possible.

I slowly drove up to what looks like it was once a camping zone. I parked my bike against a tree. I cover it in the tattered blanket. Then I climbed the tree, wrapping a rope around myself to keep myself from falling out. “Best place to sleep for tonight,” I say as I bunker down, wrapping my arms around myself along with a heavy hoodie for warmth.

Nights like this always made me think back to the good times, times before the dead were ripping into every living creature.

I turn on the news it was, talking about violent attacks worldwide for the past few days. The attacks didn’t sound like they were going to let up soon.

As the news on the riots ended, I shake my head; this was like the start of a cliché horror movie. People broke into Walmarts, riots in food stores, people stalking up on guns and the needed ammo.

“Uncle Jhonny is laughing in his grave now,” I say to my mom, who is humming away in the kitchen, my youngest brother Luke, on her hip like the monkey he was. “Alice!” my mother lightly scolds me. “He called it; he said we would kill ourselves before anything else” I look at the photo of a fiery red-haired male with a smile stretched cheek to cheek as he holds a golden-haired girl with matching green eyes. That was one of the good days when cancer hadn’t eaten away at his bones and taken his mind. “You remind me of him; all his crazy theories filled your head, Rabit” I turn to face the angelic voice of my mother, her little monkey fast asleep in her arms, a smile on her face as she called me that.

Looking back now, it was days like this that I would miss the simple days, days at home with Luke and Mom. Days when my only trouble was school and work; Now I had to worry about walkers and, worst of all, those who survived.

I lean my head back against the tree; I ignore the tears running down my dirty face. Once clean, pale, freckled skin now always smeared with dirt and sweat. The golden blonde hair my mother loved a greasy mess. No, I knew tonight the demons in my mind would keep me awake.

Faster move, don’t stop, don’t look back, when someone is chasing you, you never look back, it raises the risk of you tripping over something in front of you. The words of my trained military father fill my head. My lungs cry out for air, my legs are all but jelly under me, but I can’t risk stopping now. They are too close. The screeches and groans of the man-eaters chasing me are enough to push me past the limits of my weak body. Days of rationing, my food, and water have left me malnourished. So I force myself until the air I’m taking in no longer reaches my brain or muscles. The branches of trees cut at my exposed skin as I push them out of my way, growing dizzier. I jump over a fallen log and stumble as I reach the other side, my legs finally giving out on me.

The once faint sounds of the walking dead now all too close, The dead woman trips over the log falling on top of me, its jaws snapping at me, its grotesque graying skin falling off in places, hollow eyes stare at me, dried pieces of something in its teeth. Reaching for the hunting knife in my boot, I use one hand to hold it by its throat as my hand easily slips through the decaying flesh above me. I turn my head and, using all the force I can, slamming my knife through the temple of the thing’s head, the spray of black blood that hits my cheek and chest is thick and smells worse than rotten eggs. This dead thing that was once alive woman falls like the dead weight she is. I pull myself from under her and lean against the log. The other dead seem to have forgotten me or too far behind for my exhausted body to care.

I don’t know how long I sat there, slowly letting my body catch up to my mind, letting it rest. I had run over five miles of unknown terrain on a body that hasn’t eaten or drank anything in three days. I sat there staring at the dead thing. It had the burned body of a woman. Half her face is gone. It was missing some hair, and it smelled of rotten pork, which made my stomach grumble in emptiness. I pull my bag and look in it. I had a protein bar half-eaten and half a water bottle with boiled river water in it. “Yummy,” I say half heartily.

The woman she probably hadn’t turned over three weeks ago, maybe four. I shake my head and stand my legs, only wobble a little before they decide to work with me instead of against me. My lungs no longer feel like they will jump out of my chest, and my throat doesn’t feel like it’s bleeding. I finish my water, shoving the bottle in my bag—no need to add litter to the decaying world.

Keeping my eyes and ears open as I’m walking munching on the protein bar, it wasn’t more than maybe half an hour when I hear the men’s voices, the sounds of their heavy footfalls and wolf whistles that fill the air in a dangerous song. I stop moving the sound of my feet on the dry leaves on the ground go silent, but the others take a moment, dropping my bar. My movements are quick reaching for the pistole that I had in a hostler on my hip. I pull it out, cock it, and keep walking. Spotting one man, then another, I can hear one more before I pick up my pace, and I sprint. That’s when the chorus of cheers and the chase truly began.

The men are faster than the bitters are they can think and plan when I zig, they zag, I dance through the woods, monitoring the two men at my sides, not daring to slow down, I’m coming up to an opening in the trees, no place to hide, no safety. It’s a battleground. As I break through the woods, I feel two arms grab me wrapping in me in a menacing hug.

I slam my foot down and throw my head and elbows back. I hear the satisfying crunch and groan of an injured man.

“Bitch” The unknown man says as I jump forward, the gun pointed at the man’s head.

“Back off, I know how to use this,” I growl out. I keep backing away from the man, his buddies showing up, their weapons raised. They all looked like the stereotype of an inbreed hilly billy, ratty matted, unwashed hair, and overalls. One even had a potbelly, the man who grabbed me had smelled like he never washed even before the downfall of humanity., none of them had guns. Still, three against one isn’t in my favor, no matter the training, not when my body wasn’t at its peak.

“Three against one honey, come with us nice and quiet, and maybe just maybe you get out of this alive” Lie, I won’t survive what they have planned for me, my body might survive, but my mind won’t. I pull the trigger and shoot the man who grabbed me.I can’t hesitate not when my life is on the line.

“MATTIE, You killed my brother!” Pot-belly yelled he came at me first, and I shot him in his chest twice with two quick pulls of the trigger. I had three bullets left with Potbelly down. I quickly aim at the other one. He came at me at once. Brown hair sticking to his sweaty skin, his arms spread out wide. I brace myself for the hit from him. He takes me to the ground, my gun falling from my hands and away from the us.

He hits my sides and face as I struggle under his weight; I bring my knee up between his legs as he grabs at my leather jacket, pulling at it, trying to tear it off my body; just as my knee reaches his third leg, he holds my hair. Pulling it as he groans, I claw at his face as he slams his fist on my face again. When I scream, he hits my head into the ground. I use my arm to feel around for my knife, my finger brush against the smooth metal at my thigh; he holds my arm down, stopping my movements; I squirm myself under the man as he feels up my body pulling at my thin tee shirt. I bring my head up and slam it against his face. I feel the blood run down my forehead. He falls backward, and groans as my fingers hook around the hilt of the hunting knife. I jump on top of him and slam the blade into the man’s face three times; I bring it down until he stops moving bright red blood, sprays against my face covering my hands and chest, my jacket hangs loosely off my shoulder, my white shirt torn and bloody. I’m still on top of the dead man when I hear a whistle.

“Well, damn, look at these boys” The voice was cocky, and as I turn, I can see why he was tall with a thick beard and messy black hair, a leather jacket hung with grace off his shoulders, a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it like a Christmas tree lights in his left hand. He screamed Alpha male; he was dangerous. The five men behind him didn’t intimidate me as much as he did and the guns they all held.

“Take one step closer. I fucking dare you” I spit out a mix of my blood my victims and slowly stand adrenaline coursing through my veins, my blood knife held in my hand.

“Now wait a damn minute, we’re not here to hurt you, Doll,” Alpha male said as I move away from my bloody victim, picking up the gun not a few inches away from where I shot Potbelly, who was groaning and moving again. I slam my booted foot down on his head over and over, cursing him to hell.

“Then I can leave you and your men, stay there, bury your friends here, and I will go. They would be alive if they didn’t try to kidnap and then rape me.” I feel my adrenaline high slowly coming down; my body suddenly feels very heavy after killing the last attacker I need to get out of here. I walk away from the bodies. My gun still pointed at the Alpha man and his team.

“Names Negan Doll and those sad sacks of shit ain’t my men Number one rule to run with me, no rape,” Alpha man or rather Negan says.

“Then you’re not here because I just brutely beat and shot your men,” I say, lowering my weapon and taking a deep breath, the entire ordeal finally catching up to my brain. I have just been violated, it hasn’t even been a month since the world ended, and people were already taking and killing people. I had just killed someone. I killed three someone’s

“No, in fact, I like a woman who can handle herself,” Negan said his men, relaxing at the sight that I had lowered my gun on their boss. Negan takes this as a sign to walk closer to me. He was a good foot taller than me and huge muscles, no fat on his body covered in denim and leather. Almond brown eyes and a dimple smirk.

“God, Doll, you’re a mess; how about you come with my men and me? We have a nice little house not too far from here. You can wash up, relax, have something to eat. No one will hurt you as long as you’re with me.”

I tilt my head up and look at the unknown man. He pulls out a scarf from his jacket, and cautiously he raises his hand to clean the blood off my face.

“Your one badass woman just kicked a bitter’s head in, took down three shit heads all by yourself, got me all tingly in all the right places” Is he flittering with me right now? Negan is wiping blood human blood off my face and flirting with me, and he’s not scared of me at all. He finished wiping off all that could be when he offers me his hand.

“Come on, Doll, let me take care of you.”

Negan was my savior that day, and we filled the days that followed with flirty words and sarcastic comebacks. We fought but grew closer. He never treated me like I was fragile, never made me stay back when the Bitters came. I was a warrior in his eyes, and he treated me like a queen.

“Never hide from me, Alice, you are a warrior, you are a survivor, a badass built for this world, never forget that”

Then that day happened, the day that the world reminded me that nothing in the apocalypse is safe; nothing is forever.

We had grown in number more men, and the youngest one was 17. I was no longer the youngest in the group, and we moved on from the small farmhouse to just being on the road. We had stopped for the day one scout had spotted a mall that appeared not to have gotten raided. The cars were waiting for their owners to come back to them< I was apprehensive about going into the mall if the vehicles were still there, then where were the people or bitters.

“Don’t worry, Ali-cat, Lucille will watch out for you,” Negan said. I glared at the six-foot-one man.

“I’m not scared, just worried you can’t be too careful, Bossman,” I say, poking his chest; he grabs my hand and kisses it.

“No need to worry, Doll, this will be easy in and out.”

If only that were true, if he had just listened to me, we would still be together.

When we got in, it was quiet, and Negan made it known that he was right; the mall was safe. We were laughing and grinning, going in and out of stores gathering supplies. His men kept a respectful distance behind us. Negan takes my hand and pulls me into an open Forever 21, where Negan is pulling out dresses and heels. I roll my eyes and look around, my eyes falling on a perfect gift for him.

“Hey, look what I found,” I say as I hold up a red scarf as Negan holds out a black choker with a golden letter ‘N’ hanging from the middle.

“I found you something as well,” He says as we swap gifts, “Help me put it on,” I feel his warm hands brush my golden blond hair over my shoulder, slipping the black felt choker over my neck clasping it in place.

We walk around just a little more when we hear the tell groans and moans of the dead outside one door of the indoor theater; we look at each other and head back to the group. I drop Negan’s hand as I see one of the younger guys; Gary reaches for the theater room’s main doors. “DOn’t,” I yell just as he opens the doors; it was too late. He pulled both doors open; the swarm of Biters that came out was overwhelming. We didn’t stand a chance. All we could do was scatter. I feel Negans rough hand grab for mine, but then the dead get between us. It wrenched Negan from me. The sounds of our men’s guns overran the mall, firing shots and the screams of those who were ripped and torn apart. I see Negan’s beloved bat coming down on the heads of the monsters and the men who were too late to be spared as he and the inner circle of men make their way out. “ALICE!” his voice calls out as I pull my knife from the skull of another Bitter “NEGAN, I’LL FIND YOU, I SWEAR,” I call out as I push myself to the main door shooting three more bitters in the head.

“STAY ALIVE DOLL” I hear his voice one last time before I make my way out the fire door of the mall. Stay alive; that was his final order to me: stay alive for Negan for my savior. I make my way to the woods, one hand reaching to touch the necklace at my throat. The sounds of the dead following me as I found myself back at the beginning alone and chased by the deceased.

[atc74]

Hi, Again

Warnings: Fluff, angst (if you squint), Jensen being smooth, but the reader being smoother...

Summary: Jensen arrives to pick Y/N up for their date. She surely expected a fancy restaurant with overpriced tiny portions, but what she gets is something entirely different. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1610

Written for: @evansrogerskitten

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, my enabler for life

A/N: This is the long awaited sequel to Hi (read this first!), which was written as a request for @evansrogerskitten for a follower contest. This is a very special birthday gift, for a very special lady and very special friend. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASH! I hope you have an amazing day! I love you lady!

As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

Like Jensen’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Previously in “Hi” 

A tall gentleman in a black suit approached me with a sign that had my name on it. “Miss Y/N? I’m Philip and I will be your driver tonight. Please, follow me.” He led me to a large black SUV and held the back door open. When I looked up, the first thing I saw was Jensen’s face smiling at me. He held his hand out for me and smiled as I stepped inside, sliding into the seat next to him. 

“Hi.”

Now...

“Hi,” I smiled back, my hand still in his. 

“Hi,” Jensen said. “And, I already said that. I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous, if you couldn’t tell.” 

I laughed. I was sitting with Jensen Ackles in the back of a black SUV with heavily tinted windows in Vegas, after a Supernatural convention. Then I realized I was laughing and attempted to pull myself together. “Jensen, I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at this. It’s all a little surreal for me. What am I doing here?” 

“What I said to you during the photo was the truth. For nearly a year, I have looked at every woman with even the slightest hint of red hair, just waiting for you to come through the line again, but it was never you. I had finally convinced myself I would never see you again, and then you were there, right in front of me. It was coincidence that brought you through my photos in Seattle, but I think it was serendipity that brought us together today.” Jensen clamped his mouth shut when he realized he was rambling. 

“Serendipity?” I giggled, a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just not a word one hears in everyday conversation. Then again, this isn’t every day, is it?”

“But I feel it just...it fits,” Jensen chuckled, shrugging. “Even if it does sound a bit silly. I’m sorry if I caught you off guard. I don’t do this, like ever. But, I think Jared was sick of listening to me go on and on about you and he made me promise to ask you out if I ever saw you again. So you are here for two reasons; one, because I am a man of my word and two, you said yes.” 

“I’d be a fool to say no. Or, I might be a fool for saying yes,” I said quietly, turning to look out the window at the desert flying by. 

A warm hand landed on my arm and I turned back, regarding Jensen’s touch on my heated skin. “I don’t think you’re a fool. I think you’re brave for taking a chance like this. On me.” 

I’d seen plenty of interviews and convention footage, but this might be the first time I’ve witnessed Jensen channel Dean Winchester. It was no secret that he’d been single for some time now, but at this very moment, he didn’t think he deserved a chance. 

“Don’t do that, Jensen. Let’s have dinner and play it by ear. Who knows, by the end of the night, you might be changing your mind,” I winked, laying my hand over his. 

“You’re wrong, but I think that sounds like a solid plan. We’re almost there,” he smiled, looking out the window. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying desperately to figure out where we were. I didn’t think Jensen was a serial killer, but we were out in the middle of the desert. 

“It’s a surprise, okay? Just a little bit longer, Y/N,” Jensen replied.

“You’re not taking me out to the desert to kill me, are you? I’ve watched enough television to know what happens out here at night,” I giggled nervously. 

“Now that you’ve figured out my plan, I might as well get on with it,” Jensen scoffed, pulling my hand towards him quickly. 

I was startled but the only sound I managed was a tiny squeak. I looked up and was met with the kindest smile and prettiest green eyes. His touch traveled the length of my arm until our fingers were entwined. He raised our joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand. 

“It was indeed my plan to kill you...with kindness, and wow you with a really romantic dinner. Is that not okay with you?” And there it was, the patented Dean Winchester smirk, followed by a wink. 

“Oh my god! I’m sorry! I’m ruining it!” I covered my face with my free hand, shaking my head. I took a deep breath before daring to meet his eyes. “That is actually really sweet and sounds like a great idea.” 

“Awesome.” 

We came to a stop, but as I reached for the door, Jensen stopped me, his hand still holding mine. “Just a few minutes longer. I’ll be right back. Please don’t get out. Or peek.” The look on his face told me he was serious, but there was an underlying twinkle in those green eyes, and I found myself nodding my promise to stay put. 

As Jensen and Philip exited the vehicle, I took the opportunity to calm my nerves. I gave myself a quick pep talk and tried to remember what the volunteer had told me, more than once. “Don’t be nervous; he is a nice handsome boy, but he is still just a person.”

“He’s just a man, Y/N. This is just a date. You can do this. You are not going to f-” my pep talk was interrupted when my door swung open to reveal Jensen and his smiling, stupidly handsome face. My thoughts got the better of me. Yeah right. He’s just a man. He’s just the most beautiful human ever created.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready.” 

Jensen took my hand once more in his, helping me step down from the vehicle. He placed both his hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and I was mesmerized. “Do you trust me?”

I don’t know why, but I did. I had absolutely no reason to trust this man, but I did. “I trust you, Jensen.” 

He smiled wider than the Grand Canyon and turned my body away from him. It was then that I felt his hands covering my eyes. “No peeking, Y/N.” 

We walked several feet, me shuffling carefully in front of him until he slowed his pace and I felt his hands slip from my eyes. “Keep your eyes closed for me, sugar.” 

My skin tingled from his touch, my heart from his endearment. I nodded, feeling him slide around my body. “We’re going to sit down, right here. I got you, easy now.” 

My body lowered to the ground, something soft covering it, a blanket maybe? “Okay, you can open your eyes now.” 

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking and taking in the surrounding area. It was breathtaking, and I stared in silence at the scene before me. We were sitting on a mountain side, high above the desert plains, and looking down at the Hoover Dam. It was lit up from the base in a cool blue light. With Lake Mead an inky midnight blue behind it, I’d never seen it look more beautiful, more ethereal. 

“This is remarkable, Jensen.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m also hoping that this doesn’t outshine the rest of the evening I have planned,” he chuckled slightly, reaching behind him and revealing a honest to goodness picnic basket. 

“Look at you, playing the romantic-picnic-overlooking-a-national-landmark-card,” I mentioned casually. 

“Is it working?” Jensen winked. There was enough moonlight to see each other as it highlighted Black Canyon and the Colorado River below us. 

“Hmmmm,” I coyly toyed with him, tapping my index finger against my lips. “Whatchya got in there?”

“Oh do I have stuff,” Jensen announced excitedly as he opened the basket, laying everything out in front of us. “We have a taco buffet with all the fixings, like five different types of salsa, chips, fresh guacamole and, wait for it...a pitcher of margaritas!”

“How did you do all this?” I was stunned. “And, have you been spying on me? Who told you I love Mexican?” 

“I knew it!” Jensen pumped his fist victoriously. “Really it was a long shot, but I was craving Mexican and thought, what psycho doesn’t love tacos?” 

“Holy crap! You just quoted Dean Winchester, but swapped waffles for tacos!” I laughed so hard I think I may have snorted. 

“That was honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jensen laughed, pulling me into his arms. 

We had a peaceful dinner overlooking the dam and the surrounding mountains, playing twenty questions about our lives. Jensen reached into the basket and pulled out yet another container. “And the piece de resistance.” 

“Did you bring chocolate cake?” I eyed the decadence filled container with lustful eyes. 

“Damn girl. Forget the way Dean Winchester looks at pie. I want you to look at me like you’re eying up this cake!” Jensen laughed, pulling the cover off and waving it in front of my mouth. 

“Jensen, do not tease me. I will eat that with my fingers!” I warned him, but he didn’t give up. I reached up with two fingers, dipping into the cake and sliding them into my mouth, feeling bold.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, almost indiscernible over the sounds I was making. I noticed he seemed uncomfortable, but he teased me with cake, I could tease him back. I dipped my fingers back into the cake and held them in front of Jensen’s mouth. He took the bait. He grabbed my wrist with one large hand and halted my movements. His tongue snaked out, licking a bit of the sweet dessert from my fingers, before he dipped his head, sucking both of my fingers into his mouth. 

The sounds coming from his mouth were purely pornographic, to say the least. I felt my nether regions tingle at the sight and sounds of Jensen Ackles licking chocolate cake from my fingers. Feeling even bolder, I leaned in, licking the rements from his lower lip. “Fuck, that’s delicious.” 

“You took the words right out of my mouth, sugar.” 

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[harrystyleswatermelon-sugar]

Afterparty

“Stop, what are you doing?” I squeal and try to push Harry off of me. I mean really, how old is he? Why is he always trying to mock me until I explode and he has to apologise the next day, after I usually storm out on him.

I just don´t get it, why he always is like this. He does the most stupid and childish things, triggering my anger and annoyment constantly. If it was for Louis, I would get it. He is my best friend since I can think but Harry…I just met him a few years ago and barely saw him after our first meeting. Now, as the boys of One Direction are nearing their hiatus, they were more often in London and so we see each other more often.

I don´t want to complain, I am happy to have my best friend around more often, during their crazy ride in the music industry we barely had the chance to catch up, feeling like everything was happening at once and the five years were over in just a second.

“Harry just for once behave. My god, I thought I was the childish one” Louis sighs as he enters the kitchen. Harry finally let go of me and frowns at his friend. He puts the cream away, he tried to spray in my face for several minutes and walks out on us.

“Thanks Lou. I was literally going to stab him. What the fuck is his problem?” I ask and grab the cream to put it back in the fridge.

“I really have no clue; he is different when he is around you. Maybe he is insecure or he just thinks it´s funny. I don´t know. You ok, though?” he asks and I nod, shooting a fake smile at him. He raises an eyebrow at me, but he understands my silence and doesn´t bother to ask. I am very thankful for his silence and look at him. He looks stressed and tired and as he now ruffles through his hair and leans back on the counter, I watch him concerned.

“You really are taking a break, aren´t you? I don´t want you to continue with music and this shit immediately because you literally look like crap” I ask and he nods in agreement.

“Sure, taking a break was my plan since the hiatus came up. I need to rest a bit and spend time with my loved ones” he explains and I smile sheepishly at him. I know that I am included in the term loved ones.

“Louis, Y/N! Are you ever planning on getting your butts out here again?” Niall shouts from the living room and I roll my eyes at Lou.

“Coming, Ni!” I shout back and grab Lou´s hand. He snakes his arm around my shoulders and presses me against his side, as we walk back in the living room. Liam and Niall are spread on the couch and Harry is sitting on the massive armchair in front of the fireplace. I am happy, they decided to light the fireplace, because it is quiet chilly outside. And I like the crackle and the smell of the fire place. Sadly, I have none in my flat, that would be the best thing ever.

“Finally, if you wanna be all lovey-dovey you should get to Lou´s” Niall says annoyed and presses play on the remote before we even have the chance to take our spots. I decide, because I am still freezing, to sit near the fire on the floor, which was ultimately next to Harry in his armchair.

“You cold? Want a blanket?” he asks me, but I shake my head. I am fine but also a bit irritated because his concern.

“I would prefer it, if Niall would stop making such fucking bullshit comments about Y/N and I. We are friends, nothing more” Lou says and I knew he was going to say something about Niall´s comment. He hates it, when one of the boys says something like that, he was always scared it would affect our friendship in a negative way.

“Oh, give it a rest, Lou. We all know, Y/N would never ever date anyone of us. She knows us way too well, right Y/N?” Niall asks me and I smile at him. He basically is right. I know Louis way too long. He is like my childhood Bestie, he always protected me in school. I had a crush on him, when we met, though, but for him I was always like a younger sister. As if he hadn´t enough sisters. We met in the school choir and then again in the football club in Doncaster and he teased me, a girl would never make a goal when he is the goalkeeper. He pissed me off so bad, I took the challenge and finished him. He was so impressed after that, he invited me over to his parents´ house and we became friends. Just like that. Sure, we had some major fights over time and even didn’t speak to each other for a few months, but it never lasted.

“I would definitely not date Louis. That would be so weird” I answer and Louis nods in agreement.

“Would be disgusting, not that she is not beautiful. The man, who gets to marry her is one of the luckiest ones in the world, but we just know each other too long. Wouldn’t ruin our friendship, also” he agrees and shoots a smile at me. I look over at Niall, mouth full of popcorn, staring at the screen. He is not even listening anymore, so I shrug my shoulders and watch the show, Niall picked for us. It isn´t long after Louis and Liam fall asleep on the couch and I stand up.

“Time for me to head home, guys. Goodnight” I whisper, so I don’t wake up the sleeping beauties. I walk to the front door and put my shoes on.

“Care, if I take you home? Don’t like the feeling of you going all alone by tube at this hour” Harrys asks behind me and I look at him sceptical. He wants to take me home? Since when is he so concerned about my wellbeing?

“I know the way home; I have walked it so many times from here. I´ll be fine. Thanks for the offer” I reject him and grab my coat. He helps me by holding it up, so I can easily slide my arms in the sleeves. As I open the front door, I freeze. Oh no. It is pouring outside and a very cold breeze is hitting my face. I have no umbrella and no hood, nothing. I will be soaked before I have even walked out of the gate.

“Sure, you don´t want to take my offer?” Harry asks again and I look at him again. His green eyes stare into mine and my heart skips a beat. Wait, what? Why is my heart skipping a beat when Harry looks me in the eye?

“I guess I´ll take it then” I answer and he smiles happily, slipping on his boots and grabbing his coat and an umbrella to escort me to his car. As I sit in the passenger’s seat, I look around and scan my surroundings, as I never have been in his car before. It´s all black and very modern. I breathe in, to see, if the car smells new but all I smell is the familiar smell of fire and an expensive after shave or perfume. It smells like Harry. Wait, why do I know how he smells? What kind of freak am I?

Harry gets in the driver´s seat and starts the engine. He smiles and turns down the volume of the radio. As he sits a few seconds, his smell hits me fully. I try not to breathe in too obviously but I really really like his smell.

He drives safely and relaxed and taps his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He is a musician with his whole heart, even Lou is not as much into music as him. The awkward silence is interrupted by him asking:

“Are you coming to our last performance in a week?” I look at him from the side, seeing the straight line of his nose, his jawline and the light stubble on his cheeks. His long lashes, framing his green eyes. His really beautiful green eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t miss Lou´s last performance with the band. Why you asking? Don’t want me to come?” I return the question and he looks at me, before returning his eyes to the street.

“No, why would you think that? Of course, I want you to come” he sounds a bit offended and I lough dryly.

“Why do I think that? Because you have been nothing but a jerk when I am around” I explain to him and he hits the break, so hard that I am hurled forward into the seatbelt. He parks the car on the side of the street and turns the engine off. We aren’t even near my home. Oh no, what did I just do? I am really not in the mood for a fight with Harry.

“I am sorry, if that is what you think about me. I thought I was being funny around you, I wanted you to like me. I am sorry, I don’t dislike you at all, Y/N” he says and I look at his beautiful face. He is hands down, the most attractive guy, I have ever seen in my life. But I never told Lou about this, I knew he would make fun of me. If he had been nicer to me in the past, I would probably have fallen for him. Very hard. It helped, that he was a jerk.

“Oh…I, well...I don’t know what to say” I stammer and blush. He likes me? He really does? Shit.

“I hope you accept my apology” he says and I nod slowly.

“Y-Yeah, sure. I accept your apology but I would prefer you being yourself around me, not some douchebag I want to kick in his ass” I answer and he smiles, showing me his dimples. For god´s sake, how can a man be so beautiful?

“I think I can manage that. But I have to warn you, I am quite a gentleman if I don’t try to impress a beautiful girl with being funny” he says and winks at me. Holy fuck, he thinks I´m beautiful. The laugh that escapes my lips sounds nervous, I can hear it.

“That’s okay, I think. Gentleman is way better than jerk…so…you actually like me? I am so confused right now” I confess and look down at my nails. Could get a manicure soon.

“Yes, of course. You are so nice and funny to be around, how could I even not like you. This is so weird…you thinking I didn’t like you. It´s so far from the truth” his smile is nearly from ear to ear now. What is he saying? I am absolutely confused and unsure how to react and as he touches my hand with his, I just jump back as far as I can in the car seat. He bites his bottom lip and starts the engine again. Without another word he takes me home safely.

A week later

I spray some of my favourite perfume on my wrist as I finish my look for the night. It is the day of One Directions last performance. I am so happy for the boys, to finally end this. They were so unhappy with their management and when Zayn left, they decided very quick to take a break and let it rest for some years. Of course, their fans were shocked, but I know how hard this decision was for each member of the band. But this time in five years, they all finally thought of themselves first. Their health, their time and their life in the spotlight. They all just want some peace. I sigh and swipe my hands over my dress. It is simple, black, no cleavage or anything. It is like me. Simple and plain.

I get there nearly too late because of the tube. We were stuck in a tunnel for nearly 20 minutes and I just arrive in time to get to my seat next to the boys´ families.

“Hey, good to see you, Y/N” Jo says and hugs me tight. I greet the other Tomlinson´s and take my seat next to a gorgeous blonde woman.

“Gemma, Anne have you met Y/N before? She is Louis´ childhood friend” Jo says to the blonde girl next to me and the woman behind her. They both are gorgeous and smile at me friendly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Harrys mum Anne and this is my daughter Gemma” Anne says and I shake her hand. Gemma looks just like Harry, when she smiles. Same dimples, same smile. Wow.

Finally, the band is announced and when they come on stage, the fans are so loud. I nearly get deaf by the screams. Eventually they get a bit quieter and when they sing their last song, we all stand on our feet, swaying to the words and looking up at them. I think I can say, we are all unbelievably proud of these guys. Maybe, we even cry a bit during their song and I see that Lou is moved as well. He pulls the boys into a tight hug afterwards and smiles and waves at us.

After their appearance we really don’t pay attention, but talk quietly to each other about the boy’s future and a lot more. Anne and Gemma are really nice and I like them very much.

“Are you all going to the after show party?” Gemma asks when we are finally allowed to stand up and walk around. The Fans spot the boys´ family and shout nice things. They wave back at them and I answer her question as the first one.

“I am going for sure” she smiles widely and she looks so much like Harry.

“Great, Mom won´t come so I´m gonna stick with you, if that’s alright?” she asks and I nod. I am happy she will accompany me. I think we go on really well with each other.

We all walk backstage to see, if the boys are ready to leave. It´s a big round of hugs and when I stand in front of my best friend, he smiles so wide, that I laugh at him amused.

“Honey, so glad you are here. Wouldn’t be the same without you” he says and hugs me really tight. I press my body against his, smiling like an idiot.

“I love you, Lou. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything” I say honestly and feel him pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Leave something of her, for us to hug” Niall says laughing and I hug my favourite Irish Lad.

“Seriously, it was so emotional. I´m so happy for you all” I say and I mean every word. Niall smiles at me and I kiss his cheek soundly. He is sweaty and bright red, but I really don’t care.

“Thanks, Y/N” he says and I hug the next one in line, who happens to be Liam. We smile at each other and I kiss his cheek. We are not as close, as Niall and I but I like him. He is a nice guy and he always makes sure the boys behave properly in the public eye.

“Good to see you, love” Harry says with his deep and raspy voice, as I approach him. I can feel how Louis stares into my back, Harry never ever called me love before.

“Hi, Harry. How are you?” I ask him, as I hug him. His arms are wrapped up all around my body, it´s amazing. I can smell him and he breathes on my shoulder, so I get shivers. As I kiss his cheek, he closes his eyes for a second and I can feel him smiling.

Gemma and I drive together to the venue, where the party will be. As we enter the club, it is already really crowded and I take Gemmas hand, to not lose her. We finally find the boys and sit down next to them. They are talking with some other people and I turn my head, to see if I know someone else here. I see Louis sisters on the dancefloor. We sit there for a bit and try to have a conversation against the loud music until the boys are finished talking and join us. Harry slides in next to me on the bench and I hold my breath, as his thigh and arm touch mine.

“Hey little brother, how about getting the ladies a new drink?” Gemma asks from the right and Harry rolls his eyes at her.

“Yea, I´ll take another one, too” Niall and Lou say and Harry sighs.

“I´m coming with you, to help” I suggest to him and he doesn’t look as annoyed as before. He stands up and holds his hand in my direction, so help me up. I take it in my hand and follow him. As he orders, a man approaches me and looks at me knowingly. What is happening?

“Fancy a drink? You look like you could need one” he says and glides between Harry and me.

“Thanks, no. I´m fine” I answer and smile at him. His hand rests on my hip and I try to take a step back, but it is too crowded.

“Well, maybe you want to join me in my private booth up there. We could have some fun…together” he smiles slimy at me. I shudder in disgust. He is attractive but how fast can someone be unattractive just of their behaviour.

“No, thanks” I answer, no longer smiling. Harry, who was in a discussion with the barkeeper finally turns in my direction and looks confused at where I was standing before.

“Come on, this dress would be very nice on the floor of this club…I´ll pay all your drinks if you join me” he mumbles and comes closer. I try to push him away from me, as I meet Harrys eyes. He has this little wrinkle on his forehead, that usually pops up, when he thinks or is angry, and combs his long locks with his hand.

“Under no circumstances” I scowl and feel, how he presses his body onto mine. I shudder and pull at his hands on my back, very near my ass.

“Hey, you touching my girl?” Harry says and his voice is deep and more like an angry growl. His girl? The man turns around and is met by Harrys glowing eyes. Harry is nearly a head taller than him and stares him down. He immediately puts his hands up and apologizes to Harry.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t know she was taken. No offense, sorry” he says and I let my breath out.

“How about apologizing to the lady, you harassed?” Harry asks and the guy stammers an apology, before he takes off into the crowd.

“Thank you” I say from the bottom of my heart. The barkeeper puts the first drinks on the bar and I slide a bit closer to Harry. Just in case.

“Sorry guys, I need to get a new bottle of Gin. Be right back” the barkeeper says and disappears. I am pushed from some ladies behind me and stumble against Harrys arm.

“Sorry, I was pushed” I say and shoot him an apologetic look. He just smiles and pulls me right in front of him. I am now encircled by him and the bar. I smell his cologne and the fire from his home and look up at his face. His piercing eyes wander over my face and I can´t hold it back.

“Your girl, huh?” I ask and a smile darts over his lips. I shake my head and can´t look away from him.

“Had to say something, was the best that came to my mind” he answers and shrugs his shoulders. He has left is jacket at the table and I can now see the tattoos on his toned chest, as his black blouse is opened quite a bit.

“What is this that, by the way?” I ask and touch his thigh in this bright red suit pants with an all-over flower print.

“You don’t like it? I think it´s great” he answers and shows me his thigh. I laugh and shake my head.

“Well it will definitely be remembered. Flower boy” he laughs and I hear the barkeeper say:

“Here you go” Harry grabs some of the drinks and winks at me. I follow him with the other drinks and hand them to Gemma, Lou and Liam. Harry has mine and gives it to me. We salute each other to the hiatus and a lot of free time.

Later that night, I am just a little bit tipsy, instead of Louis who already went home two hours ago, I find myself outside the venue to catch a bit of fresh air. Unbelievable how fast the last five years have passed. I am thinking of leaving soon as well, because it is really tiring to be with so many people. I danced with literally everyone in this club and my feet really hurt. I sigh and see the white cloud forming from my breath.

“Cold, huh?” I hear a familiar voice and turn around to face Harry. He´s wearing his flower suit jacket and smirks at me.

“Leaving already?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“No, I was looking for you” he answers and I turn a light shade of red.

“You getting now overprotective since we spoke last week?” I smile and he sighs.

“Told you, I´m a gentleman” he says and I nod. He is right, he definitely behaved this night like a gentleman and if he keeps being so nice to me…I will be head over heels for him in no time. Oh god, this is going to be really hard.

“What are you staring at?” he asks and touches his face confused. I shake my head and press my lips together. I am really cold, considering I have no jacket.

“Nothing. I´m going to grab my things, I guess” I say and move past him. He follows me back inside and in the little corridor he grabs my hand. I look at him confused, as I look into his green eyes.

“Come with me, Y/N” he says very simply and I am even more confused.

“With you? Where? Why?” I ask and watch how his hand entwines our fingers. What the fuck is happening?

“Just with me, because…I have absolutely fallen for you” he says and I open my mouth in shock. What? Harry Styles is in love with me? How? I mean…what? My brain is sending error signals and I can´t even form a normal word.

“Please say something” he begs me and comes closer. His eyes seem insecure and scared.

“I don’t know what…I´m…I…” I stammer very intelligent and he laughs quietly.

“I am in love with you, Y/N. Do you feel the same? Can you love me?” he asks and I think about his words. I am not yet in love with him, but I have a crush on him, definitely. If I can love him in the future…guess we will see. I smile at him and nod.

“I think that could happen, yes” I answer and he beams happily at me, cupping my cheek with his warm and soft hand. He leans in and as his soft lips touch mine, I know this will be a tough but great journey. Being with Harry. It is a soft and tender kiss, completely different as what I expected from a Rockstar but afterwards, he smiles and leans his forehead on mine.

“Shall we?” he whispers and his eyes sparkle happily. I swear, I have never seen such mesmerizing green eyes.

“We shall” I answer and smile back, as we finally leave the venue, hand in hand.

  _____________________________________

So, this is my first one on here, I hope you like it and don´t be too harsh on me. Feedback is gladly appreciated!

Love, xx

[impala-dreamer]

Based on All Hell Breaks Loose parts 1 and 2 the reader watches as Sam gets stabbed and Dean runs towards him. Then flashforward to dead!Sam on the bed and the reader along with bobby trys to help Dean but he blows up at her and then says he's sorry

Nothing Good

Season 2

Dean, Sam, Bobby, Me.

1,326 Words

Warnings: Extreme Angst. 

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It was like some dream I couldn’t wake up from. A really, really fucking bad dream.  

One minute we were racing through the desert and then he was there. Sam was there, right in front of us. 

Of course, Dean was faster and he bolted from the driver’s seat before the wheels had even really stopped. Bobby and I struggled to keep up, but once I saw Sam, my feet froze in the sandy earth. He looked so relieved to see us, well, Dean- I doubt he could see me and Bobby from that distance, but I saw him. I saw his eyes light up and his lips curl into a smile that ended before it was fully formed. 

That...guy just came up from behind him… I didn’t even know I screamed, didn’t realize I had moved until I saw Dean start running. Sam seemed to wobble on his long legs as if the bones in his body had all turned to jelly. He looked at Dean, then Bobby, then me… My heart stopped when I saw that line of red dribble from the side of his mouth.

He fell into Dean’s arms and they both sank to the ground. Dust was billowing around their knees, it was like fog in an old horror movie. Dean grabbed at Sam, trying to get him to stay awake, but his head kept rolling to the side. 

Bobby went ahead but stopped, just as paralyzed by shock as I was. He looked back and I shook my head; I couldn’t move to help him, couldn’t get my stupid feet to take one fucking step forward. 

That’s when we heard it. 

Dean screamed. He yelled Sam’s name into the midnight sky like he was begging God to kill him too. 

I’ve never heard a scream like that, never felt such heartbreak as when I realized why he was screaming. 

We lay Sam in the backseat on the Impala.  

There was room for me to sit in the front if I squished close to Bobby, but I refused. Sam needed me. 

I sat with his head in my lap, running my fingers through his hair as the car bounced down the road. Every bump moved him awkwardly; his spine was severed and his arms moved like puppets without strings. I wiped the blood from his lips with my sleeve, forever staining my gray flannel with the memory. I should have sat in front, I shouldn’t have touched him like that, but I couldn’t let him be alone. Sam deserved so much more. 

I cried the whole way back to the hideout. Thirty miles and twists and turns with Sam’s lifeless head in my lap. After a while, his skin started to cool beneath my hand and his arms stopped jerking so much. He was stiffening up and my mind was reeling. 

I don’t remember how we got inside, but I remember watching them lay Sam on that filthy old mattress. I watched in horror as Dean arranged his hands over his chest and turned his head so that he looked to be sleeping. I know I yelled at him for not giving Sam a pillow; I remember Bobby snapping at him and pulling me into another room. I know he hugged me, I could smell the Old Spice and whiskey on his skin, but I don’t remember much else. 

The next few hours were empty in my head. Maybe I was numb, maybe I just blacked it out, but I don’t remember much. Seemed like we sat there all night, me and Bobby, in the kitchen of that shack, drinking in silence. 

At some point, Bobby left and that’s when I drank the rest of the bottle. It made my stomach hurt and I knew I was too far gone to keep drinking, but I knew it didn’t matter. Sam was in the other room, dead. Snuffed out like a light. Gone. What the fuck did it matter if I drank enough to kill poison myself? It didn’t. 

Bobby woke me up when he came back, nudging my arm right off of the table. 

“No more whiskey, girl,” he told me, just like a forlorn father. He set a bucket of chicken down on the table and pushed it towards me. The smell of it made my gut churn but I grabbed a wing and picked at it. It was greasy and the fat shone on my fingers. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

“What are we gonna do?” I asked, staring off into the other room. I could see the tip of Dean’s boot through the door crack. I could have seen Sam’s arm, but I refused to lift my eyes that high. 

“Not sure yet,” he answered, reaching for a thigh. “But whatever Dean needs, we’ll do.” 

“Yeah.” 

He hadn’t moved in hours so I gave it a shot, taking a chicken leg wrapped in a brown napkin with me. He needed to eat. 

I opened the door and sucked in a breath as I saw Sam lying on that bed. He was ghostly white, cheeks sunken, hands posed awkwardly. I swallowed down a wave of tears and held out the food to Dean. 

“Hey, you need to eat.” I probably should have started with something else, but that’s what came out. 

He didn’t even look up; green eyes glued to his brother. “No.”

“OK.” I bit my lip and tried not to look back at Sam. I needed to keep myself together for Dean, needed to get him out of that room and into some clean air. “Wanna come inside and have a drink?” 

Again, he barely moved. “No.” 

“You need a break, Dean. Come sit with me.” I reached for his elbow and he jerked away, nearly toppling off of the stool as he pulled from me. 

“Go away.” His jaw was so tight, his lips barely moved. His face was wet, his eyes red as he finally looked up at me. “Leave me alone, dammnit! Get out!”

I was afraid to move suddenly. He needed me, needed something other than to sit and stare at his brother’s corpse. “Dean…” 

He stood up, kicking over his seat as he lunged at me, fists balled. “I said leave me alone!”

Bobby stepped between us as I pressed myself back against the door. If I could have sunk into the wood, I would have. Dean’s rage was terrifying, but I tried not to take it personally. Hell, if punching me would have made him feel better, I would have let him. 

“You stop that right now!” Bobby yelled, his hand pressed to Dean’s chest. “Fighting with her ain’t gonna get you nowhere, boy. You hear me?” 

Dean startled and his opened his fist, dropping his hand to his side. He looked around Bobby’s shoulder at me, and my eyes started leaking again. 

“Sorry.” It was so weak, I almost missed it, but Bobby seemed satisfied. Dean looked back and forth between us and then at Sam, his eyes closing for a brief moment. “I gotta get out of here.” 

Bobby stepped aside and Dean bolted, rushing out the back door before I knew what was going on. 

“Dean!” I yelled, but I knew it was no use. 

“Let him go.” Bobby sighed heavily and went back to the table, pulling a fresh bottle of whiskey from the brown bag on the floor. 

“What’s he gonna do?” I asked, stumbling back to my chair. 

He cracked the seal and poured two drinks. “Nothing good, I’m sure.” 

I panicked. “We should stop him.” 

The Impala’s headlights passed over my face as Dean pulled out of the driveway. It was too late. 

“Nothing’s gonna stop him,” Bobby said sadly. “Just gotta be there to help him clean it up. Whatever it is.” 

It was like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. A dream I never wanted, and amazingly… it only got worse.

Saturday Season Drabbles - Season 2

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[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 3

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 3: Tommy and Leah leave Midland and face uncertainty. 

Leah trembled as she walked into the room. Five of the girls were there including Bea. Tommy stood outside by the door, his back to the wall to let them have their privacy.

           Bea stood when she saw the conflicted look on her face. “What’s going on?” She demanded.

           Leah was still in tears. She was perched on the precipice of her life. She could stay there as a prostitute with a questionable future or see if she could find what Jonah hoped for her.

           “I’m leaving.” Her voice was thick as she stooped down to retrieve her coat and bag.

           Bea’s eyes flicked to the door. Tommy’s shoulder was visible, the hallway hazy from his cigarette. A flash of anger crossed her features and she stormed out to confront the man. “Who the hell do you think you are?” The woman snapped and jabbed at his chest with two fingers.

           Tommy could tell she was protective over Leah. And he recalled sleeping with her months earlier, but was probably drunk and remembered very little. “She’s free to make her own choices.” He replied calmly. He was accustomed to being on the receiving end of anger and hysteria.

           Bea’s eyes narrowed. “You fuckin’ Shelbys are demons.” She spat.

           Leah rushed out to diffuse yet another argument. She tugged at her friend’s arm. “He isn’t making me do anything, I’ve made up my own mind.”

           But Bea wasn’t having it. “You’re just movin’ onto the next, huh?” She shoved him. The man sighed and took the abuse. “Your wife was murdered ‘cause of you and now you want another victim to have on your arm? You just don’t fuckin’ care, do you? As long as they’re pretty, eh? Fuckin’ monster, you and your kin.”

           “Stop, please!” Leah begged. She didn’t want Bea suddenly having to deal with the Peaky Blinders. “Jonah didn’t want me doing this.” She tried to draw her attention away from Tommy. “He wanted something better for me.”

           She turned to her, green eyes filled with anxiety. “You don’t think I better for you and all the other girls?” Muffled sounds of sex could be heard down the hallway from them. “I want to see you thrive, Leah. But that man right there will get you killed.” Anger slipped back into her voice. “And as soon as you’re dead and buried, he’ll move onto the next.”

           Leah looked at Tommy. His face was hard to read and he didn’t interject to defend himself. But he wasn’t a monster, she couldn’t see that in him. He was simply damaged like her. “It’ll be okay.” She smiled weakly and touched her friend’s shoulder. “I’ll ring you tomorrow.”

           “Lee…”

           She gave her friend a hug and drew away. Tommy offered an arm to her and Leah turned away from the other girls. There was a sense of guilt knowing she was leaving them behind in the same situation she was escaping from. But she couldn’t take them with her as much as she wanted to.

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

           The car was waiting in front of the hotel still, but the rain had let up. Damp darkness hung over the city. Tommy opened the door for her and held a hand out as she stepped inside. The Bentley’s luxurious interior only reminded Leah of whom she was really dealing with.

           Tommy slid into the backseat beside her and told the driver the destination. They were both quiet as the car traveled down the lamp-lined roads of London. Eventually, they arrived in a nicer area of London. The streets were quieter and the houses appeared well maintained.

           “Where are we?” Leah asked quietly, not familiar with the location.

           “My sister Ada’s,” Tommy answered. “You can stay here for the night. I’ll back ‘round tomorrow to talk. I want to give you the night to think about whatever you need sorted.” He got out of the car, helping Leah down. “Whatever I can do to help get you settled again.” He knew they had both been unsettled for a very long time. Tommy was aware that he only moved further from comfort every day. He set himself up for a chaotic life. But if he could help Leah along, it might give him a reason to get some sleep.

           Ada was accommodating, despite the late hour. She set up Leah in the spare room before giving her privacy. Then she returned downstairs to where Tommy lingered by the front door.

           “How can you trust her?” Ada wasn’t scared of Leah. The Shelby woman could certainly handle her if necessary. Her small handgun was always within arm’s reach. But Ada was concerned about her brother’s fragile state and what a prostitute might do to further shatter him.

           “She’s harmless,” Tommy replied. “And she’s well aware of what we do. She wouldn't test that.”

           “What you do.” She corrected him fiercely and crossed her arms over her chest.

           “Whatever you say, Ada.” Tommy shrugged and opened the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           The next day, Leah was quiet. She made polite conversation with Ada and fussed over Karl, but she was deep in thought. So much so that while playing football outside in the street with Karl, she nearly got hit in the head with the ball.

           Now, noon had rolled around and she sat in the parlor. She was overwhelmed with uncertainty. The night hadn’t done much good and she still hadn’t cleared everything up and made up her mind. Jonah’s face had kept crossing her mind. Those lovely brown eyes that held so much warmth and adoration. His strong hands and his dazzling smile. There was still something deep in Leah that hadn’t accepted he was gone. But she knew that if he were alive out there, somewhere, he would be doing everything within his power to return to her. With every year that passed, another piece of Leah resigned herself to the loss.

           Now she had to deal with the fact that he wanted the Shelbys to take care of her after he passed. Both Tommy and Leah had delayed it, intentionally or not. She wanted to continue dragging her heels more but she wasn’t exactly sure what she was afraid of.

           Maybe because it was Tommy Shelby.

           Maybe his influence and power.

           Maybe it was the way he made her feel.

           The front door opened and from where she was sitting, Leah could see Tommy enter.

           “Uncle Tommy!” Karl cried with joy as he catapulted off the stairs and into the man’s arms.

           “Oof!” Tommy grinned and staggered back a few steps from the impact. “You’re getting big, eh? Sprouting like a weed, ‘fore you know it, you’ll be bigger than me and your mum.”

           “Gonna be taller than Big Ben!” Karl beamed. “I played football with Lee, gotta scratch!” He proudly showed his uncle the scrape on his forearm.

           “Look at that. Getting scuffed up on the streets of London already. Don’t tell your mum, yeah?” Tommy chuckled.

           Seeing the tenderness between him and his nephew was striking. Gangsters weren’t thought to have souls let alone be able to love.

           Tommy noticed Leah watching him from the parlor so he set Karl down. “Why don’t you go find your mum, eh?” The little boy hurried off with a clatter of footsteps after being shooed away.

           Leah averted her eyes as Tommy walked into the parlor. “It’s nice to see a man who’s good with kids.” She admitted shyly. She could remember how the neighborhood kids would flock to Jonah because they wanted to see his army uniform and he’d play along when they pretended to be out on the battlefield, holding up sticks as guns.

           Tommy opened the front button of his coat before sitting across from her. “I have a son, Charlie, who’ll be three soon.” He informed her. “Like you said before, Miss Ward, there are things you don’t know about me.”

           She nodded but couldn’t help be shocked by the news. It was one thing seeing him with a nephew; it was another thing knowing he was raising a child. All the while, the world painted him as a devil. “There are things you don’t know about me too.”

           “Would you like to get to know each other better?” The question was an outreach but his face was like stone. It was as if an internal conflict was yearning outwards.

           Leah’s palms began to sweat. His blue eyes sent chills down her spine because she could still see the way he looked at her those fateful nights. “I’m afraid I’m not very interesting, Tommy. I suppose my story is just a little sad. But I don’t need sympathy.”

           He made a low noise of understanding and nodded. “I’m not very interesting either.”

           Leah laughed and shook her head. “I find that very hard to believe. Nearly half the country knows your name. Maybe even more than that.”

           A faint smile formed on his face. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing her laugh. “Do you like kids?” He asked.

           “Oh, ‘course.” She nodded. “I always wanted to be a nurse. My mother was before she and my father opened the chemist shop. I wanted to be a midwife.” She told him.

           Tommy saw a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wondered how long it had been since anyone saw it.

           “I was meant to go off to school after Jonah came home but…” The light faded quickly at the mention of her husband’s death.

           “Would you like to go now?” Tommy offered. “I know people in the field.” He knew many people in many fields but decided he’d had enough grave injuries to rack up a repertoire with some doctors.

           Leah picked at her fingernails, her eyes downcast with shame. “That’s kind of you, but I think it’s too late for me now.”

           He could’ve argued that it wasn’t too late but decided not to be too aggressive about it. “I could offer you a job at my home in Warwickshire. You could look after my son. His nanny is ‘bout to have a baby and will be on leave soon.”

           She swallowed. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful,” She prefaced anxiously. “But I just don’t think I’m qualified. I have nothing to offer you; I’m just a-” Her voice faltered. Just a whore. That’s all she’d known for several years.

           “I don’t need you to offer me anything in return.” He replied and leaned forward to try and catch her eye.

           It was hard to resist those baby-blues. “It’s not just that.”

           “What is it then?” He rested his arms on his knees, his gaze steady on hers. His presence was strangely comforting. Leah never had intimate feelings for a client. Sometimes she had men blindly profess their love to her but she never even felt infatuation for any of the men. But when she was with Tommy, she felt like she was floating from euphoria. Now she wanted a man she had slept with twice, yet she barely scratched the surface of who he was. “You’re confused about our relationship.” Tommy surmised as she bit her lip and gave him a shy but longing look.

           She nodded meekly. “I know it meant nothing to you because-”

           “Who said it meant nothing?”

           The two stared at each other for a bit. It was clear neither of them was willing to be the first to admit the truth. Both of them were severely deprived of affection and had clear physical chemistry, but it had been some time since they found love. They were rusty on the ins and outs of actual relationships and not just flimsy companionships.

          Leah decided it wasn’t the time or the place to take that chance with him. “Ada said there was a dress shop in Birmingham. I thought I’d inquire there about a job. You won’t have to worry about me after that. You’ve already done enough, Tommy.”

           He frowned. “Would you want that?”

           She nodded and smoothed her skirt. “I just need to get my things from my room and find a flat in Birmingham. It would be nice to get away from London.”

           “Most people don’t want to go to Birmingham.”

           “I do.”

           Tommy sighed slightly. He couldn’t picture the beautiful woman in Small Heath. He thought she belonged somewhere like Warwickshire much more. He could see her all done up in the trappings of a wealthy woman. Just like Grace had embraced it.

           That’s what he wanted. He wanted someone to fill Grace’s shoes. To be on his arm. To be a mother to Charlie. To kiss the top of his head at night and whisper small comforts to him. The realization made Tommy feel like he was drowning in a sea of helpless misery because he couldn’t replace her. But he couldn’t be without her.

           “Right, I’ll find you a flat. I’ll pay rent for you. Anything else you need, you can always come to me.” He offered.

           “I have money saved. I can pay rent.”

           He raised an eyebrow and reached for a cigarette. The day was hardly half over and he already wanted it to end. “The first year, I’ll pay.”

           “First month.” She replied. “Honestly, I’ll be just fine on my own.”

           “First six.”

           “First two.”

           He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “Alright. Fair enough.” He stood up and shook her hand. He wanted to add a clause in the verbal contract; he’d get to see her every so often just to ease his sorrow. But he kept that to himself. If luck were on her side she'd find her balance in Birmingham, find her way, and escape. No one in their right mind wanted to be stuck in Birmingham. No one in their right mind wanted to be stuck with him either.

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

           Leah didn’t dislike Birmingham as much as others seemed to. She liked the change of scenery because it reminded what she was leaving behind. She began work at the dress shop. An older man owned the place, but his youngest daughter ran it. Beth was a little younger than Leah but the two got along well. Leah got to know her neighbors and became familiar with her surroundings.

         Then, she started to notice men in flat caps lingering around the front of the shop. At first, she thought it was a coincidence, then she realized it was Tommy’s men. They all sported similar shaved haircuts and the signature caps. It was far too often to be a coincidence after the first week.

           “That’s Isaiah.” One morning, Beth pointed out the young man who was taking a smoke across the street. “Isn’t he just as handsome as can be?” She sighed and leaned against the counter, cheek resting on her hand. Her eyes fixed on the young man jostling another boy about. The two were laughing and giving some well-aimed jabs, just acting as boys will.

           “Who’s that with him?” Leah asked as she swept up around the shop. She looked out the window to see they were somewhat familiar to her. They'd been around the shop a few times in the past week. They were smartly dressed compared to the rest of the city and had the flat caps to prove where they'd gotten the money from.

           “Finn, he’s Tommy Shelby’s younger brother.” She answered. “They’re all Blinders. But who doesn't like a little danger? Leaves ya breathless, doesn't it?” Beth gave her new friend a coy smile.

           So he was keeping an eye on her. Leah sighed and shook her head. “I dunno anymore." She mumbled under her breath.

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

           Two days later, Tommy finally made an appearance. He walked into the shop, slipping off his cap. He nodded to Beth whose eyes went wide at the sight of him. The pristinely dressed Blinder stood there, exuding intimidation that came naturally from his reputation and icy blue eyes. “Is Leah in?” He asked while he approached the front counter.

           In the backroom, Leah could hear his deep voice. She came out before Beth could answer him. “Tommy.” She greeted with quiet shock.

           There was no mistaking the look of relief on his face. Their eyes met and for a few beats, they didn’t speak. Neither of them noticed until Beth cleared her throat to disrupt the tense moment.

           “Oh, sorry.” Leah’s cheeks went red. “Tommy, this is Beth, the owner’s daughter.”

           He gave her a polite nod. “Nice to meet you.” Of course, she knew who he was just like everyone else in Birmingham, so there was no need to introduce himself.

           Beth looked a little squeamish that the head of the Peaky Blinders was standing so close. Most Brummies kept their distance if they knew what was good for them. “Likewise.” She said quietly.

           Leah could sense her discomfort. “Maybe we could talk outside. Beth, is it alright if I step out for a mo’? Won't be long.”

           “No, that’s fine.” She wasn’t about to interfere with Tommy there.

           The two went out to stand by the shop. Tommy lighting a cigarette once outside. He paced a few steps as he took two drags. “Sorry to interrupt while you’re working.”

           “That’s okay.” Leah could feel her heart beating faster. She had managed to keep herself busy the two weeks she spent apart from him. But now that he was nearby again, she felt the yearning for his touch. “I just thought you’d come around sooner.” She admitted sheepishly. “I know you’ve had your men watching the place from time to time.” She told him honestly. "Beth recognized some of them, your brother was around I guess. I dunno if you knew or..." She bit her lip.

           “Well…” He shrugged but knew he was caught. Of course, he'd had some men check the shop every so often. He wanted to be sure Leah was safe in his city. It was overbearing, he knew that, but he was away and felt uneasy. “I was in London for a bit. Just wanted to make sure everything was coming along for you. Wanted to make sure you weren’t having any problems either.” He gestured with his cigarette to make it seem like it was nothing but a casual drop by. He cleared his throat and glanced down at his expensive shoes. For a moment he debated whether he had the courage to really go through with what he was planning. His eyes returned to her and the words tumbled out. “Do you want to get a drink with me? Tonight?”

           Leah was surprised but not unpleasantly so. “I suppose that’ll be alright.” She nodded and felt a twinge of thrill and anxiety in her stomach. There was no telling what would happen between them both. They hadn't talked candidly about their complex and confusing relationship. She was afraid that they were on completely separate pages and she would make a fool out of herself.

           He didn’t speak for a bit, just eyeing her. He was definitely a hard man to read by face value but after spending a lot of time with men at their most vulnerable, Leah thought she could pick out male emotions.

           “Are you lonely, Tommy?”

           His lips parted and a bit of smoke escaped as he let out a huff of bitter amusement. “Do lonely men go to pay for companionship?” It was his natural defensive mechanism, answering a question with another question.

           She nodded with a wrinkled brow and a frown. There was no telling what he was getting at so she indulged his question. “Sometimes, yes.”

           “But you’re not a whore.” He pointed to the door beside her. “You’re a shop girl.”

           Leah couldn’t help but smile. It was refreshing to hear him reinforce the new chapter of her life. “You can still be lonely and want to take out a shop girl. Not all men go to whores when they're lonely.”

           He let a smile tug at his lips but didn't reply. “I’ll see you at the Garrison at nine then?” He pulled his gold pocket watch from his waistcoat to check the time. His little detour was going to make him late to a family meeting but he couldn’t have cared less.

           She knew he was avoiding the root of probably many of his issues. Losing Jonah was definitely the root of her issues. For years she coped on her own without the comfort of anyone else. She could only imagine Tommy was doing the exact same thing. “Okay.”

           He pulled on his cap and went to leave before she stopped him with a touch to the arm.

           “Sorry, I just-” She reached up and carefully brushed a fallen eyelash from his cheekbone.

           Tommy froze when he felt her gentle touch on his skin again. Even a fleeting graze of her finger was enough to make him long for her. It took everything in his power to not bring her back to Watery Lane and resume where they’d left off all those weeks ago. There had been a hunger gnawing at him those two weeks they were apart. Perhaps he had become addicted to her and was coping with the withdrawals.

           Leah’s eyes fell to a glint of metal poking out from the brim of his flat cap. It was chilling to think that all the men who had been lingering around the shop were probably sporting the same weapon. What was stranger was how Tommy reacted under her touch. Birmingham’s most powerful men looked ready to fall to his knees for her. “Just an eyelash.” She explained, a quiver in her voice. She took a step back to break the spell and let the stray eyelash fall from her pointer finger. “Anyway, I should get back to work.”

           Tommy realized his hand was shaking. “Oh, right.” He nodded stiffly but wasn’t really comprehending her words or his own. God only knew how he was going to get through the rest of the afternoon.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[bush-viper-cutie]

“Malfoy Manor Arrival” || YEAR 3 – Ch.4 (HP au)

                              Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter                          Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 7/21/2020

Word count: 3,131

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

They had just left Privet Drive when a bird fluttering overhead under the moonlight, reminded Heather that she hadn’t replied to Draco yet about going over. The witch in the driver’s seat was turning into street after street looking for something and the man was pouring tea for them and talking about how curiously funny Uncle Vernon was.

“I need to send him an owl first!” Heather figured she’d get scolded for bad manners by the Malfoys and there was no way she’d allow Mr. Malfoy to yell at her like he had Harry. In fact, maybe she’d be forgiven easier if she made her stay at Malfoy Manor worth it for Harry and Ron somehow. “Can we stop by an Owl Post Office?”

“Oh certainly!” the witch squealed, “We can drop you off there and won’t have to go near that house! We don’t have to ride in this thing for much longer,” she smacked the car, “GO FASTER.”

They had arrived outside another house with pink rocks lining the driveway. The woman parked the car and got out, tiptoed over to Heather’s side and opened the car door for her and the old man. Confused, she followed their lead, closing the car doors quietly, and watched the witch take her trunk from the back and set it down.

“Um, where are we?”

The witch looked around and smiled, “Not sure, but its best we don’t stay for longer,” and held Heather and the man’s arms while gripping the trunk handle very tight. “We were just borrowing.”

Heather suddenly felt like she was being flung into a tornado, spinning around a million times a second. Her hair whipped around and she thought she was going to be sick when they suddenly stopped and the world stopped spinning around her.

There was a very small but tall building in front of them, sandwiched between two larger much more normal looking buildings, with four owls on the signpost reading ‘Owl Post Office’. The front of the small building looked like more of a quick mart than any post office and all the windows on every floor were lined with very eager looking owls.

“And here we are, just send your owl and the Floo to where you want to go – If it’s a no go from your friend then I suggest you Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Alrighty!” she held the door open.

Heather nodded and blinked as she stepped into the very bright post office. It smelled like owl and the dinging bell was muffled by the sound of fluttering wings and excited hoots. She dragged her trunk to the counter and greeted the wizard who had been too busy with a crossword puzzle that rearranged itself with every mistake to notice her walk in.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” he held out hand, “Letter or package?”

He had a very low gruff voice, like he’d been snoring for hours and only recently woke up with a sore and raspy throat. Heather quickly wrote out a letter to Draco and rolled it up, handing it to the man.

“‘Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor’,” he put two fingers to his lips and whistled.

Heather looked up to see a storm of owls all diving down to his outstretched arm, about a hundred at a time. She yelped and ducked down, covering her hair until the sound of furiously fluttering wings had stopped. The winning owl was a large one, with gold tipped feathers and a very shiny beak and eyes as big as the moon outside.

“That’ll be, er, four Sickles,” he held out his hand again.

She nodded and dug out five Sickles to give him and watched as he counted them up and stuffed them in his pocket. He walked over to the fireplace and threw floo powder into it, creating large green flames. He took the owl flung it through, wiped his hands, and walked back to his chair to continue his puzzle.

“I thought owls flew to places on their own,” Heather tapped on the counter, waiting for a response.

The man balanced a quill on his lip for a minute before taking it and scribbling something down, “Muggles may be unobservant, but I don’t think any of them will miss hundreds of owls flying in and out of this building,” he put the quill back on his lip and pointed at the fireplace.

The green fires returned and the same owl was now back – looking a little sooty – with a green scroll attached to his leg. She held out her arm and it landed gracefully, sticking out his leg for her.

“Thank you,” she took the scroll and unrolled it.

‘Do you have any idea how early it is? If you must come now, then do it. I’ll be waiting by the fire. Remember our deal, I’ll help you with your drills if you help me with mine. If you hold me back, I’ll kick you out and the only Potter on that field will be famous Harry Potter right before I kick him to the ground. He’ll be a famous weeping baby when I’m done with him.

– Draco Malfoy’

She could still turn back if she wanted. She didn’t have to go through with it… She huffed and crumpled the paper up, stuffing it in her pocket. A day, she could stay for a day and see how that went. She paid for the floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. She stuck her hand in and felt the familiar wet coldness of the flames as they swirled around her skin. She stepped in and felt her trunk get pressed into her like they were being stuffed inside a tube.

“Malfoy Manor,” she threw the last of the powder down.

After several disorienting spins she stepped out when she saw a very bored looking Draco leaning against a chair twirling his wand between his fingers. He looked at her unimpressed and yawned as she shook her hair in the fireplace and dusted off.

The room they were in was not very large with two doors bolted shut to her left and a large, carpeted, staircase leading upstairs in the center. There was a door to the left and right of the stairs, probably leading to the rest of the first floor. Opposite the fireplace was a large wall mirror with a bright silver frame and bellow it were two elegant matching chairs. The walls were white with black furniture and green with silver accent colors running throughout.

“Welcome. You’re the first and last Potter to step into Malfoy Manor,” Draco stood straight and headed for the stairs, “Leave your trunk. Our new house elf will get it.”

Heather gulped, remembering Harry had freed their last one a few months ago, “Alright.”

She followed him up to the landing where a giant painting of the three Malfoys hung. Draco must have been no older than six, in his mother’s arms with Mr. Malfoy behind them with both hands on his wife’s shoulders. She followed him up the second set of stairs – the left ones – which lead to a long hall of doors to the left and a wood one to the right.

“That’s the library,” Draco opened the wooden door for Heather to look through, “Your room will be over here.” He closed the door and headed to the very last door, closest to the double front doors below.

She leaned over the railing to look at the pattern of their entrance hall tiles. She turned and entered the room where Draco was waiting, “Where’s your room?”

“Third floor stairs,” he yawned.

“Is… Does your father know I’m here?” Heather hated the idea of having to see Mr. Malfoy. After what he put Ginny through, how could she ever not hate his guts. “Will I see him?”

“Not likely if you don’t come down for breakfast. He leaves all day, comes back late, and on weekends he’s in his study,” Draco exited the room, “Your trunk’s behind you.”

The door closed and she was left alone in an exceptionally large room with a bed big enough for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and her to all sleep comfortably. She pushed the trunk down and winced as it banged on the floor a lot louder than she had realized it would. She grit her teeth and turned to the door, half expecting any one of the Malfoys to barge in yelling at her… but nothing happened.

She breathed out and dragged it onto the floral rug at the foot of her bed and opened it, pulling out her pajamas and propping her broom up on the dresser. She closed the curtains to the windows overlooking their driveway and changed out of Dudley’s old polo that she kept tucked into last year’s summer skirt. If there was one thing Pansy was right about, it was that she was absolutely right about Heather lacking any style.

She climbed into bed and gasped at the softness of the covers, the sheets, the pillows… the mattress! “Ohh!” she smiled and snuggled in deeper. Even the Hogwarts beds couldn’t compare to this. “Next time Malfoy complains about Harry getting ANYTHING – ” she punched the air, “He has EVERYTHING.” Way more than he deserved, and way more than Harry gets for being ‘famous Harry Potter’.

She was about to fall asleep when something tapped her window. She groaned and got back out of bed – the day’s events finally manifesting in her muscles and bones – and pulled the curtains back to look at Hedwig twisting her head in all directions to look at her.

She opened the window, “I didn’t mean get him to write me THIS soon…”

Hedwig dropped the letter from her beak and sat on the windowsill.

‘You should have stayed with me, Fudge had it all worked out. He fixed everything. Doesn’t matter now. Sorry I can’t help you, I’m under strict orders not to leave the area for three weeks. I’ll get all your books though! And I’ll buy you an ice cream? Anyways feed Hedwig when you get this, she kept pecking me.’

Now she knew that the guilt of doing something so reckless they could have gotten expelled never set in for him. She felt less bad about fibbing about her stay at Malfoy Manor, and wrote out a quick ‘Ok, see you soon’ reply. She tied it to Hedwig and let her out.

She closed the window and ran back to bed, knowing Draco would be as bad as Marcus tomorrow during training. Actually, worse since he would have to listen to her when it came to the drills she would make him do. She closed her eyes and fell asleep in the softest, comfiest bed she could have ever imagined.

There was a loud pop, like a firecracker had gone off inside a sealed cauldron. Heather sat up quickly and opened her eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight shining through the closed curtains and noticed the silhouette of an elf.

“Dobby?”

“Feeno,” the elf frowned and pointed at the night table with some water and a breakfast plate. “Master Draco is waiting in the back yard.” He waited for her to nod before popping away.

Heather got out of bed and ran to her trunk, taking out her Quidditch uniform and throwing it on quickly, eating some of her breakfast as she tied her shoes and robes with double knots. She grabbed her broom and opened the door, finding Feeno hunched over a stain on the wood, trying to rub it away.

Feeno looked up at her and sighed heavily, “This way.” He led her down the stairs to the entrance hall and through the right-most door. She walked through a wide passageway with only one door in the center and a large brass lock. The elf led her out another door that lead to the outside.

Heather gasped at how large his backyard was, though she would call it a grass field with a garden along the smooth stone fence. She spotted Draco gliding around in the air, doing loops and diving. He spotted her and sped down to meet her halfway.

“Alright, let’s practice, Potter.” He turned to the elf, “Get the case.”

Heather mounted her broom and touched off, “You could say please.”

He rolled his eyes, “I didn’t invite you here so you could nag. My father heard from Pucey’s father that no one had a guaranteed spot on the team. Flint’s looking for a better Seeker,” he took the case from Feeno, opened it and took out the Snitch and Quaffle, “and better Chasers.”

He shoved the Quaffle into her hands and released the Snitch. She couldn’t believe Marcus was looking for whole new members, though it did make sense. She heard every year he picked only the toughest and strongest who tried out, and her and Draco were neither.

“Potter!” Draco snapped his fingers to get her attention, “I wasn’t joking about kicking you out.”

Heather dropped the Quaffle and flew up to him, explaining the drills Marcus had her do to fly evenly under pressure. They trained on that for several hours – Heather playing the part of her brother and enemy Seeker, very impressed with her own skills that almost matched Draco’s – until he was used to the drills. At one point she had picked up a bunch of pebbles and pinecones and instructed Feeno to throw them at Draco randomly trying to distract him.

Heather wiped her forehead and panted, trying to catch her breath, “Can we take a lunch break? It’s almost two and we’ve been training since ten-thirty.”

Draco shrugged off his robe and draped it over his broom. “Lunch,” he snapped his fingers at Feeno. “Let’s go in, Father’s at work and Mother won’t be back until later.”

Heather followed Draco down and into the house. He led her up a different set of stairs to the second floor, past a giant library full of books and two desks with elegant quills, into a dining room. The table was long and the wood shined as bright as the entrance hall tiles.

He pointed at the chair across from him and sat down. Heather pulled out the chair and sat, looking around awkwardly. The only other chairs at the table were the ones on the ends, far away from each other.

“Why are your chairs so far away?” Heather pointed at the two chairs, “Isn’t it hard to talk?”

Draco laughed, “Of course you’d be confused by it, Potter. Let me guess, in your kitchen and have to share elbow space with those Muggles you call ‘family’.”

She scoffed, “At least none of us have to scream to be heard.”

“No one screams – ”

“I was exaggerating.”

He picked up a fork and twirled it on its tips, “Whatever, Potter. Where’s your brother now, anyways. Doesn’t he miss his shadow?”

She bit down on her cheek and shook her head, “What do you care? Miss him already?” She knew better than to give away Harry’s location so easily.

If they had been allowed to use magic, Draco would have hexed her, she could tell by the way his eyes gleamed with anger. Feeno was back and set two plates of sandwiches and soup. The elf poured them juice and stood in the corner, inspecting the doorknob for smudges.

Heather happily took the little sandwich slices and dipped the in the soup, watching as the bread turned soggy and brown as it absorbed the liquid. She liked the spread between the bread and the lettuce, whatever it was. Even the tomato was juicier than the ones from Hogwarts. The Ministry must prioritize quantity over quality for the food at their school or the Malfoys really knew how to pick their produce.

“So,” she dabbed a napkin on her chin, “What do you do for fun here?”

Draco leaned back and scoffed, “At my house?” He looked around with a slightly disgusted look on his face, “There isn’t anything to do. I fly on my broom or study or… Leave. Over the summer’s I hang out with my friends – real friends – ”

Heather rolled her eyes, “You must DO something though. Don’t you? What if no one can come over or no one invites you over?”

Draco slammed his glass down, spilling juice on the table – which Feeno was quick to clean up, muttering his apologies to his master – and scowled, “My friends are ALWAYS available, Potter. Something I’m sure you couldn’t relate to.”

“Why are you so rude! It’s perfectly normal for people to be busy sometimes. I’m just asking what’s fun around here!”

Draco stood up, “I’ll be in my room. FEENO!”

The elf quickly apparated beside Draco, “Sir?”

“You can show her to hers,” he stormed out of the room, flinging the doors so hard the bounced off the wall.

Harry was right, he did act like Dudley sometimes. It was a simple question that did not call for such a heated tantrum. She took a few more sandwiches and followed Feeno back to her room, passing quickly through the library as if she’d suddenly decide to take a book if she lingered for too long. The elf opened her door for her and pointed at her Quidditch robes, then to a large mirror with a glittering frame.

“Don’t get the furniture dirty. Bathroom’s through there.”

Heather forced the doors closed and sighed, “I get it. I stink.”

She dug around her trunk for a nice pair of clothes – the closest she got was an old lazily-sewn shirt that belonged to Petunia last summer – and her old skirt. The shirt fit fine – somewhat – but the skirt was starting to get a little tight around her hips. She’d have to buy a new one soon.

She walked over to the mirror and stared at it for a while. She pulled on the frame but it didn’t budge like the Gryffindor tower door. She looked at herself in the mirror and raised her hand to touch the glass. It felt solid at first, and then like gelatin. She pushed her hand and felt it go through, reminding her of the pool of water on the roof of the cave from last year.

She closed her eyes and stepped through. She opened them and looked around at the quaint little bathroom with a large tub and silver rose candleholders. It wasn’t too bright, like the Dursley’s bathroom, and felt very romantic in nature. She smiled and looked around, making sure she didn’t have to close any windows or lock any doors for privacy, and turned on the tub.

“Worth it,” she jumped in and soon the argument with Draco melted away.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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[sketches-of-stories]

What Happens in Maine Stays in Maine

Maine was everything Alik Payne had hoped it would be and more. After moving every couple of months to a year due to his troubled childhood it was nice to have a sense of stability, especially in a place as beautiful as this. He lived for the way the ever present breeze snaked the smells of pine forests, salt water, rain, and damp earth into his belongings. He loved the insects that hummed from their hiding places in the towering trees, the scrubby brush, and cool steep cliffs. Glittering streams, lakes, and even the jagged coastline as sharp as a knife put him at ease, reminding him of days gone by and the various places he had lived in his reasonably short life. The feeling of pine needles snagging themselves in his hoodies and black hair as he stood knee deep in freezing crystal clear water and watched the sunset never ceased to make him shiver in delight. Of course there was one thing that happened in Maine was more precious to him than any delight mother nature had to offer. Maine was the place he had finally, finally married the love of his life.

    “I’ll be back soon Charlotte. I love you,” Alik murmured gently, leaning down to kiss his sleeping wife gently on the cheek. He lingered for a second before brushing a strand of dirty blonde hair from her eyes and wrapping the sheets closer around her. Alik straightened. There was nowhere he’d rather be than alone in their cozy little cabin in the pine forest with his lovely wife. She really was the perfect picture of beauty and innocence. Hopefully he’d be back soon.

    The floorboards creaked as Alik tiptoed across the room. He paused and made a mental note to look into the problem. They couldn’t have anything that would disturb the little bubble of peace he’d crafted just for the two of them. Rays of sunlight wove their way through the tree branches outside, peeked through the lacy white curtains, and cast a soft golden glow to everything in the room. Alik’s breath caught in his throat as he glanced back at Charlotte one last time. She was the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen.

    Alik padded out into the dimly lit hall, his sock feet causing him to slip slightly on the shiny hardwood floor. One hand snapped up to grip the door and he righted himself. It gave him less of a fright then most of the experiences he’d had in his life but his relative comfort during the past few days had already stripped him of his conditioning to such things. Somehow he’d have to find a way to recondition himself to be always alert, although that, he told himself, was a job for another time.   

    Birds whistled in the pines surrounding his little Eden and without really realizing it he hummed along. Everything finally seemed at peace, Alik thought to himself as he strolled into the kitchen, absentmindedly snagging a piece of bread from the pantry. Just as he had done nearly every morning for the past few days he strode over to the dull metallic toaster and prepared his breakfast. He leaned against the cool marble counter, grinning with pride at his accomplishment. Gone was the time when he would skip breakfast and occasionally one or both of the other meals. Charlotte needed her husband to be healthy and he had eagerly vowed to do anything in his power to look after her happiness.

    The mouth-watering aroma of toast and the soft sound of the toaster broke the man from his thoughts. Alik swore. He was getting distracted. Charlotte always seemed to have that effect on him. Carefully, he removed the toast and bit into it with a satisfying crunch. Cooked to perfection, just the way everything seemed to be going recently.

    “I could get used to this,” he breathed to the silent house before shaking the thoughts from his head and devouring the rest of his small meal. 

    After struggling down the last of his toast Alik made his way to the front door. A full looking black trash bag, a charcoal colored duffle bag that was stained in several places, and an old pair of hiking boots were strewn on the floor beside it. They smelled bad and he wrinkled his nose. Alik ran a hand through his thick dark hair but crouched to pull on the boots anyway. His knees popped when he stood without bothering to tie his shoes. Alik opened the door, it’s locks making a click as he turned them, shouldered the duffle bag, and grabbed the trash bag with his other hand. The solid contents and what sounded like a substantial amount of liquid shifted and sloshed in the bag as he dragged it across the floor and down the stairs, unable to lift it for longer than a few seconds.

    It took a minute to find his rusted silver pickup truck in the early morning fog and he set the bags down for a second before realizing he’d probably lose them if he didn’t take them with him. When he finally reached the vehicle he unlocked it with a click, tossed his duffle bag into the passenger seat with a grunt, and hoisted the trash bag into the back where it sloshed disgustingly for a few seconds. After ensuring the bag wouldn’t spill Alik hopped out of the truck bed and climbed in the driver’s seat. The leather of the seat was cool, and the cold seeped through his sweatpants. Trying his best to ignore the chill he cranked the heat as high as it could go, flipped the switch that activated the heated seats, and maneuvered the truck out of the gravel driveway.

    Pine trees lined both sides of the road, whizzing past when the truck was finally brought up to speed. There was significantly less fog then there had been only a few minutes earlier. Only a thin mist floated in the air, illuminating in places where the sun had found its way through the branches. Alik smiled. Everything in Maine was so incredibly beautiful.

The last word of his previous thought made him grin wider and filled his mind with images of Charlotte again. Her hair would catch the light wonderfully out here. Maybe someday soon he could coax her out of their little house and into the truck. The two of them could walk hand in hand along beaches dotted with sickly green seaweed, their toes indenting softly in the sand beneath them. He would whisper a joke in her ear and she would laugh and smile and kiss him on the cheek. Everything would be perfect and neither of them would have to have any anxiety anymore. The dark past was behind them and the future was limitless.

Unconsciously he let out a sigh and wondered how it was possible to miss someone so much after only being separated from them for such a short period of time. Of course getting rid of garbage was important and it was such an inconvenient necessity that forced him to burn his trash a considerable distance from his home, but was it really too much to ask to just want to be home?

    Alik was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly missed his final turn. He noticed where he was just in time, flicked on the turn signal, and turned the vehicle onto the dirt path to the right. Small animals scurried across the dead leaves that covered the ground, crunching them as they fled from the truck. The soft mud was littered with potholes, which on more than one occasion rammed his head sharply into the roof. Alik swore, rubbed the top of his head tenderly, and parked. The path ended a few miles from the road in a small open section in the trees that was cleared of as many flammable things as possible. The perfect place to burn any garbage, especially the kind he frequently had. 

    Building and setting the fire didn’t take long. It was a handy skill he had picked up long ago. Only a few moments after he lit the match did he manage to get a decently sized fire going. Alik added logs as quickly as he could without putting the fire out before hurrying back to his truck and returning with his two bags. The trash bag he tossed into the flames with a dark laugh before shouldering the duffle bag and setting off down a footpath through the brush. Briefly he wondered if Charlotte would think the smell of wood smoke would suit him when he returned. He was almost certain she’d say yes and perhaps on her own accord.

    The footpath ended at a beautiful lake where Alik calmly disposed of the duffle bag. It hit the water with a resounding splash and immediately sunk. Evidence gone, he thought to himself with a smirk. He’d have to find a time to buy a new saw, but he really couldn’t risk anyone finding this particular one. In a few hours he’d be able to return home with no one any wiser about what he’d done. He set back off down the trail to watch the fire burn out and bury any bones left from the trash bag.

    It was three o’clock when he finally returned to his cabin and his wife. The gravel beneath the tires of his truck crunched as he parked and Alik nearly flew out of the vehicle and up the front steps. Quickly his fingers undid all the locks, punching in the different number combinations for all six of the locks. The door was shut quietly and his boots kicked off before he spoke.

    “Charlotte, darling,” he called, scanning the kitchen for any sign of her before moving on to the various other rooms she could be occupying. “Where are you my dear? I’m home.” He finally located her cowering on the bed in their bedroom, the last room he checked. “No need to be afraid Charlotte. I love you too much to do you any harm.” He paused as if waiting for a response. None came. “Are you not going to return the sentiment?” Charlotte flinched and Alik silently cursed himself. She’d had many frights over the past year, several of them even unintentionally by him. Of course she’d still be jumpy at times. And he had sounded rather cruel. 

“Orion! I… I’m sorry. You simply startled me.” She trembled and couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “Yes. I… I love you. I do. You… you’re my husband now. Of course I love you.” Alik shook his head, his hands curled into fists, and his jaw seemed to be clenched so tightly it must have hurt him. “Really, I do,” she added, desperately trying to reassure him for her own safety. He let out his breath slowly and allowed the rage to leave his body. He couldn’t bring himself to stay angry with her for too long.

    “Charlotte, love, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m Alik now. That boyfriend of yours luckily looked conveniently similar to me. Well, he did until my cyanide, the saw, and this morning’s fire got to him. Orion Turner, the man I used to be is no more. It's like a baptism of sorts,” he mused. "A new life just for the two of us!" He stretched his mouth into what he hoped looked like a dashing grin. The young woman in front of him burst into tears. He hated to see her cry and instantly rushed to her side, kissing the tears from her face, and whispering sweetly in her ear. Someday, he told himself, he wouldn’t have to hold her so tightly she couldn’t move before he touched her.

Charlotte didn't love him yet, this he knew. But in time, especially with it only being the two of them, Alik was sure she’d come around. She had to! He’d struggled so much. Identity theft was rather tricky to do well in a short amount of time. But they had all the time in the world and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

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Written for my creative writing class