#i’m glad the girls could set aside their differences

[makoto-shizumu]

Everyone was worried Yu-Ting would be bullied on the podium, especially by Esra. But I’m glad that’s not the case. 💖🇹🇼💖🇵🇱💖🇹🇷💖🇵🇭💖

And with that, we end our Olympic campaign with two golds and five bronzes - our second best performance in history. 🥇🥇🥉🥉🥉🥉🥉

[notiddygxthgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

��Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

[userlando]

that anon is a genuis? the showering one 🥺

okay okay I’m still gonna write a full on fic but I wanted to do the showering together rn because I have no shame, but but I hope you enjoy this lil fluffy thing

take care of you (2.k words) lando norris x fem!reader sickfic

You were never sick, and that’s why Lando was getting worried. The both of you had always laughed at the thought of being ill, boasting a little too much about your amazing immune systems and now it’s come to bite you in the ass.

It had started as - what you thought was - a hangover, having a little too much to drink at the bar where Max had practically forced you to come two days ago. Lando hadn’t really been feeling it, still a little sore from the race a few days prior and in need of a night in where he could just relax. But you’d both gone eventually, had a good time and then you’d woken up violently ill the next morning.

Lando had set aside his aversion to vomit, quietly gagging as he tried to nurse you back to health. But it had become clear that it wasn’t just the aftermath of the night before coming to haunt you. Your nose had turned stuffy, voice hoarse and your fevers were running high. Dangerously so. Lando had never seen you so drained of energy before and it was starting to scare him.

He’d ignored your protests of staying away, not wanting him to catch whatever the fuck was making you feel like death was knocking on your front door but Lando was nothing but stubborn, glaring angrily at you when you tried to wave him off.

Max had dropped in to dump a plastic bag of medicine and everything a pharmacy held before fleeing, saying that whatever you had, he didn’t want it. You just wished Lando had the same attitude.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud though, that a part of you was glad that you had your best friend by your side to look after your basic needs when you couldn't. He always ran cold and it was a great advantage as he sat by your side as you went in and out of consciousness, placing his chilly hand on your forehead and cheek to hopefully stave off the fever.

By day two, he’d had enough. His stomach was twisting in worry, and he’d rang his mum three times - looking for advice or anything to help with her in a different country. You’d been a little delirious, skin slick with sweat as you laid on the bed; barely conscious and drifting between that place where you're not quite lucid, but you're also not completely knocked out. Lando would’ve thought that you were sleeping if it weren’t for the mouth breathing and little whimpers you occasionally let out when the pain in your head spiked out of nowhere.

It was three in the morning when you sniffled, waking up from your doze and blinking at him. You looked so miserable that he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you, brushing a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead and ignoring the fact that your hair was absolutely soaking. Anxiety was already gripping his heart in a fist and he couldn't handle feeding into it anymore, in fear of it bursting at the seams.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, voice quiet as to not worsen your headache but you still groaned like he’d put a megaphone to your ear and screamed into it.

You made a pathetic attempt at shaking your head, and the little gesture made him smile in endearment when you nuzzled the side of your face against the pillow; squishing your nose and mouth into the damp fabric.

“No.” You murmured. “‘s so hot.”

He glanced at the one too many covers and blankets on you, thinking that maybe he’d gone overboard with his mum’s advice to ‘let you sweat your fever out’.

“I know, bug.” He frowned a little. “You’ll be okay soon.”

“I feel like I’ve taken a nap in the devil’s arse.” You complained and Lando laughed, a bit relieved that your humour was still there.

He thought back on his mum’s advice that he’d immediately brushed off with heated cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. Let her have a shower, it’ll do wonders for her, poor girl.

How was Lando supposed to get you in the shower when you hadn’t even left the bed for days? He glanced down at you and sucked his teeth, hands going to push the covers from your body before he could second guess himself. You made a sound of confusion when he grabbed at your hands, helping you sit up.

“What are you doin’?” Your speech was a little slurred, exhaustion clinging to your very soul and Lando ignored the pang in his chest at your rare vulnerability.

He’d ever only seen you like this when you were pissed out of your mind drunk, or when you were really sad. Or sick.

“We’re taking a shower.” He said, helping you stand up and you went easily, leaning heavily on him because the room was fucking spinning and he’d just said we.

The slow realisation made you yelp as he walked the both of you to the bathroom, and you gripped his hoodie in your hands in a lousy effort to stop him from walking any further.

“We? You’re not seeing me naked.” You said, feeling a little panicked at that thought.

Lando gave you a look you couldn’t decipher, pushing the door open with his foot and guiding you inside. He flipped down the toilet seat lid and gently sat you down and any other day you would've laughed at how much he acted like his mother when she fussed over her son or even you.

“Then we’re showering in our clothes.” He said, like it was that simple but it really wasn't that simple.

“We’re not.” You frowned but immediately stopped because fuck, that hurt your head. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll shower tomorrow when I've got my strength up.”

“You said that yesterday. You’re literally laying in your pool of sweat.” He pointed in the direction of your bedroom as if to get his point across and your mouth pursed in displeasure.

“You said you wouldn’t mention that.”

Lando’s eyebrows climbed to his forehead in exasperation and you flushed hotly. It was embarrassing and he’d promised not to make fun of you. Not that he was making fun of you, but still.

“You’re being an idiot.” He said, watching you pout a little at that and immediately feeling bad. He backtracked. “I mean… I don’t want you feeling faint and falling when I’m not here. I promise I won’t be a creep and look.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and Lando placed both of his hands on his hips as he exhaled, the tips of his ear turning a nice shade of pink.

“Fine. I won’t look too much.” He swept a hand in the air. “Can we please get you in the shower? You’re starting to stink.”

“Now you know how I feel every day around you.” You muttered, ignoring Lando as he repeated your words in a mocking tone. “Okay, can you at least just… Look away?”

He regarded you with a contemplative look before nodding slowly, turning around and you stared at his back for a few seconds before starting to undress. Lando was patient, keeping his eyes firmly on the sink as he heard the shuffle of clothes and your noises behind him. You made a small sound that let him know that you were done and he stretched a hand out without turning or looking, offering his support as you stepped into the shower with weak legs.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right. You were in no shape or form to wash yourself without risking blacking out, but Lando thankfully didn’t say a thing as he let you draw the shower drapes to cover you.

You stood quietly, shivering and a little nervous as you heard him undress, nausea roiling your stomach and tying it into knots and you couldn’t figure out if it was because you were nervous or simply sick. It must’ve been a combination of two, you decided, thoughts spiralling until Lando’s voice echoed in the bathroom.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded before you realised that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah.” You flattened your palm against the tiled wall when you started feeling a little dizzy, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you hurry? I’m feeling sick.”

The weakness in your voice must’ve triggered your best friend into action because he pulled the drapes aside and stepped in, grabbing your hand like it was a normal and every day occurrence to be standing in the shower. Naked.

You opened your eyes to find him looking intensely at your face, eyebrows pulled together worriedly and you gave him a shaky smile.

“Do you wanna lean on me?” He asked, tilting his head to look you in the eyes.

You were about to shake your head when you felt your world tilt on its axis, stumbling a little and Lando was quick to wrap his arms around you. He pulled you into his embrace and took some of your weight off your feet, trying not to think about how incredibly naked and warm you were against him.

He exhaled, feeling your hands weakly rest on his back; like you were welcoming his help and it made something warm bloom in his chest.

“I’m going to turn the shower on now, okay?” He walked the two of you to the corner before reaching back and turning the knob.

There was a sputtering sound before the spray came, and you could feel the cold mist as the shower head splattered cold water by your feet. You hummed in delight, leaning your forehead against Lando’s shoulder and closing your eyes.

“I feel like shit.” You confessed quietly between the two of you and Lando’s hand came up to brush the hair down your neck in quiet comfort. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Don’t mention it. You know I always will.” There was something in his voice that you couldn’t quite decipher, but you let it go when he took a step back into the shower once he’d deemed it warm enough.

The lukewarm water felt like heaven as it pelted down the both of you, washing away the sweat and everything you’d managed to accumulate these past few days. You hummed in pleasure, feeling your hair soak and you pushed your head off his shoulder to look at your best friend.

He was busy making out the hundreds of different bottles, looking lost before he finally found the shampoo bottle. The sight would’ve made you laugh if you had any strength left, but you settled for an amused smile that Lando clocked as soon as he turned his attention back to you.

“Shut up.” He said, seeing the clear laughter in your eyes and you raised your eyebrows as if to say hey, I didn’t say anything. “Turn around and let me wash your hair.”

You weren’t about to protest, doing just that and placing the palm of your hand against the wall to keep yourself upright.

Lando quickly washed your hair, the suds of the shampoo sliding down your face and getting in your eyes and it wasn’t as relaxing as one would’ve thought but he did the job and you couldn’t complain. He even went as far as conditioning your hair, rinsing it off gently before you offered to do the same for him.

“You don’t have to do that.” He scrunched his nose. “You look like you’re two seconds away from falling asleep.”

“Put your head down and shut up. Let me wash your hair.” You tried to sound stern, but you ended up sounding a little ridiculous with your stuffy nose and Lando grinned before complying.

The smile on his face vanished when he realised that he had, in the process, put himself in direct eyesight of your naked body and he struggled not to tense up as he heard the cap of the bottle pop, staring hard at your bare feet instead.

You did a way better job at washing his hair, digging your nails pleasantly around his skull and massaging his curls thoroughly before rinsing the suds off. Lando didn’t realise how relaxed he’d became until he tried to stand upright, hair drooping over his face and dripping wet.

His breath stuttered when you let out a hoarse laugh, pushing the hair out of his face and the movement was so intimate that Lando had a hard time breathing, wondering what the fuck was happening.

You didn’t seem bothered by the gesture though, none the wiser as you picked up a loofah and pushed it into his hands. He blinked down at it like it was a foreign object, trying to make sense of what exactly you were asking of him.

“You want me to wash you?” His voice went high, almost in a squeak and you shot a questioning look at him.

“Yes.” You decided on replying before frowning, adding: “Is that weird? I can do it if —“

“No, no. Um, I can do it, just —“ He was flustered, turning a little in the small space of your shower and trying not to yelp when his arm brushed your naked skin. “Body wash. I need body wash.”

Your face was on fire, watching him pop the cap of the body wash and ripping it off in the process. He made a little sound in his throat but didn’t dare to pick the broken cap off the floor, squirting the liquid onto the loofah before waving it in front of you.

You turned around, figuring that it was maybe a little easier if you weren’t in each others faces and Lando must’ve felt the same because he blew out a breath and started washing your back, albeit a little timidly.

He gained confidence after a few moments, finishing scrubbing you before doing himself and you didn’t call him out on him using your sponge because really, he’d probably done it a million times whenever he showered at your place.

The both of you stepped out, and he was there to immediately wrap you up in a towel before doing the same to himself. You didn’t want to acknowledge your heart, how it was speeding up abnormally so at the sight of him and how sweet he was being. Taking care of you, sending updates to your mum with how you were and assuring her that you were being taken care of. He knew how much of a worrier she was, and it made something immense swell in your chest as he rubbed a second towel over your hair, gentle and so very careful not to snag your hair or accidentally hurt you.

“What?” He halted when he pulled the towel away, revealing your face and your eyes staring at him. He wasn’t sure if it was the shampoo that had gotten in your eyes but they looked like they were on the verge of welling up.

“Nothing.” You replied, voice thick and so obviously lying but Lando didn’t touch on the subject. He made sure to ask later, when the air wasn’t so charged and you weren't teetering on the brink of death.

“Get into bed, I’ll bring you fresh clothes.” He said as he steered the both of you back to your bedroom. Lando stopped as he eyed your bed, a little critically. “You know what, let’s go to the couch instead.”

You laughed, voice a little thick and you reached a hand to weakly slap at his arm.

“What?” He grinned. “We need to change the sheets. Or maybe even burn them.”

“You’re a prick!” The way your voice cracked made Lando cackle, yelping when you shoved him a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Your words may have sounded malicious, but there was an undertone that your best friend couldn’t help but latch onto.

It sounded a lot like, I love you.

don't look at me, i love pain. anyways, hope you enjoyed this little drabble as i go crawling back into my cave to write something better than this. (also how did this turn into 2.6k words? i need help)

[rebelliousstories]

Rock A Bye Baby

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Infirtility, Violence, Strong Language

Word Count: 1,937

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: Two hundred years seems like a long time, but there is somethings that never change; no matter how much time had passed.

“Janey, we gotta get to school! Come on, little lady.” A woman yelled from downstairs in the kitchen. She plated some fruit on the remainder of the plates before moving them to the dining table. Someone came up behind her and placed their hands on her hips.

“This looks good, sweetheart. And the food isn’t half bad either.” Cooper chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She giggled and let herself relax into his arms for just a bit.

“Such a flatterer, Coop. Now go get that daughter of yours and bring her in for breakfast. She has a test today.” Sending her lover off, she made her way to the table and finished setting it up just in time for her two favorite people in the world to come down the stairs. Right before she got in her chair, she was tackled by a little bundle of energy.

“Oof, you are getting strong, baby. Come on and eat your breakfast, Janey. Then we can go to school.” She nudged the young girl in the direction of the plate she set aside for her. Watching Janey tuck into her meal, the woman smiled as she did the same. Her husband was sitting next to her and also ate his breakfast with a grin. Once everyone was done, she quickly ran around to tidy up before they grabbed their things.

“Come on, Janey. Let’s get going so daddy can drop us off at school. Okay?” And with that, Cooper was more than happy to be their chauffeur for the morning to take his daughter to learn, and his wife to work. The drive there was a relatively short affair, full of loud singing from the passenger and back seat as the radio was cranked loud. Parking in a spot, Cooper leaned over and kissed his wife goodbye as she took her step-daughter in for her school day.

That was a little over two hundred years ago, and everything changed.

Now, there was no more days at school. No more drives in the countryside or taking Janey to her mother’s house because of the visitation. Now it was navigating a nuclear wasteland for two hundred years.

They had been on the move for a couple days now. Very little was causing them to stop, and that was how they liked it. The couple functioned better on the move. Never allowing themselves to get comfortable in one place for long. But the town they were on their way to was known for big bounties. And they truly needed a bounty to replenish their caps after buying a bunch of RadAway.

“You go inside. I’m gonna stay out here for a moment.” She said, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder briefly before passing him in favor of seeing what stall were available.

Cooper just nodded and left to collect the job he did not care to much what she was going to while he was inside. She could take care of herself. When he exited the shop, he spotted her at a stall with different types of wears. He distinctly remembered her talking about how she needed a new undershirt and possibly some new boots. It all passed quickly, and there they went off again.

The couple walked all around the area, utilizing Cooper’s tracking skills to the fullest of the extent. If they got this done quickly, that meant more caps. Leaning over to look at something in the dirt, a chain slipped out from her new undershirt. Cooper instantly recognized the ring looped through the metal and unconsciously placed a hand over the matching piece hovering over his chest. Even after all this time,he was glad one thing had remained the same. It was probably what made surviving the Wastelands easier.

“Hey baby! Come here.” The Ghoul walked over to his partner, and looked at where she was pointing. A blood trail. Kneeling, he stuck a finger in before tasting the dark red liquid, and spitting out the sand.

“He’s close. Let’s move.” His voice clipped as he took off to follow the trail. Ever the faithful wife, she followed close behind. By the time the sun had set, they still had more trail to track, but no light to do it by. So the couple found themselves stationed in the middle of a junkyard with a roaring fire. She rested her head on his chest and felt his arms around her shoulders, drawing her in closer.

“Wait, do you hear that?” She peaked her head up, and waited to see if she could hear it again. Cooper went to say something but she just shushed him. She heard it again; this time louder.

“What the hell is that?” She got up and followed the sound of the noise before her husband could stop her.

“Damnit woman. Slow down.” He grumbled, following after her with a scowl. She continued to follow the source of the noise, never wavering in her pursuit. It took a couple of turns, and a few trips from the uneven terrain, but she eventually found the source. A moving bundle of blankets were placed on top of a barrel.

“The hell you doin’ woman?” Cooper finally caught up to where his wife had stopped and paused over the same bundle that she was hovered over.

“Oh look at them, Coop.” She cooed, picking up the wiggling bundle. In her arms was a baby.

“I wonder what you are. You can’t be more than a few weeks old.” The baby was tucked securely against her body as she rearranged the blankets to see what the baby was clothed in.

“Oh you’re a baby girl. So cute with those chubby cheeks.” Her finger stroked over her face, and felt her heart swell when the babe wrapped her chunky little hand around it.

“Now, don’t you go gettin’ attached to that thing.” Cooper looked to his wife, and then down at the small human in her arms.

“Coop, she’s so small and defenseless. We can’t just leave her here.” She countered, already moving to leave the area where the child was abandoned.

“No. No, no, no. Now what we ain’t gonna do is keep the damn thing.” He followed her through the path all the while her arms were occupied.

“Oh relax, beau. I ain’t leaving her.” Making their way back to their little campsite, she sat down a little closer to the fire and held the babe close. She retired the blankets around and tried to find something to give her for her hunger.

“You just gonna get attached to the thing and it’s not gonna survive.” He commented, sitting back down in his seat but not draping his arm over her again. She grabbed her canteen and dribbled a little bit of water to her lips.

“Need to find some formula when we get into town tomorrow.” It was just a little side comment, one that she did not even realize that she had said.

“Already told you, we ain’t keepin’ it.” Cooper grumbled, placing his head over his eyes.

“Coop, she’s just a little girl.” She replied, but her husband did not. Whenever the little girl in her arms slept, she caught a brief moment of shut eye too. The sun came up, and woke her husband who looked well rested.

“Is that thing still here?” He asked, looking over at his wife with a sleeping baby in her arms.

“Yes she is,” a yawn broke up her words. Her eyes were a bit hazy and tired, but she was aware of enough to continue going. Packing up their things, she had to navigate everything with the child in her arms. Her husband was grumbling the entire way about being slowed down, and how he did not want the child to travel with them. But as they continued to follow the trail, the baby stayed quiet, and stayed asleep.

There was something interesting about having the baby with them. Even if he refused to admit it, Cooper found himself extra protective of the child in his wife’s arms. It took him back to when Janey was a baby; how small and defenseless she was. Always relying on her parents for everything. When they found the target, he held a hand up to stop them.

“Stay here.” He whispered, ducking around the corner. Howard saw the trail of blood, but no body was around. It was not until he heard his wife scream, and a thud followed by the sounds of bones breaking. He whipped around to find their target on the ground, and his wife with a baby still in her arms, kicking the man wherever she could. The target’s jaw was definitely broken, and she was trying to at least shatter the knees of the man who kept trying to get up. Unhooking the lasso, Cooper wrangled the large man onto his knees, before turning to the two females next to hm.

“Y’all alright now?” Cooper turned his attention to the babe in her arms, before checking on his wife.

“Yeah. We’re all good, Coop. Let’s go turn that bounty in.” She stated, determined to get back to the town. The man picked up their bounty and began to march them into the town the had received the hit from.

“You know, you checked on her first before checking on me. Never done that before.” She commented, shielding the child from the sun with her cloak. Cooper smirked as he kept his eye on the prisoner in front of them.

“Well, maybe she is alright. Ain’t like she ever done anything that deserves bein’ left in this god forsaken desert. You gotta take care o’ her, but you can keep ‘er.” He drawled, letting his eyes wander to the child before looking at the love in his wife’s eyes.

“Didn’t realize you ghouls could even have children. Who would want to be raised by a couple of mutants?” Their bounty snarled under his breath. Loud enough that she felt self-conscious, and loud enough that Cooper felt rage. In the blink of an eye, he had blown a hole through the man’s shoulder, who dropped to his knees screaming.

“Now,” Cooper caught up to him and tightened the rope around his body, “you ever talk about my wife like that again, I ain’t gonna miss and hit your shoulder.”

He let the man go, dragged him back up to his feet, and made him walk yet again. Cooper fell back where his wife was now suddenly silent.

“Don’t listen to the shit he says darlin’. You’re as fine a momma as I ever did see.” He reassured her with a quick pat to her back.

“What if he’s right, Coop? I mean, maybe two hundred years ago we were good parents. Well, you were. Me… I was never able to be a mom.” She looked to the baby in her arms with a mournful gaze.

“This is your chance to do it again. Just cause it ain’t your by blood don’t mean it ain’t yours.” Once more, Cooper kept his voice down while he reassured his wife. She looked towards him, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie, yet found nothing. Silently, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and continued onward. Cooper knew that their captive was far too focused on his own shoulder and pain to notice their interaction, but watching her with that baby, made him think about if they just had more time all those years ago; could they have found a way to have children?

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

As I approach the club, the bass is already thumping from the floor above. Despite the cold, they have the large floor-to-ceiling accordion doors open wide to allow the air to flow for the dancers and DJ. Something I’m sure I’ll be grateful for later.

I notice Ash first, his back is to me with his teal hair practically glowing in the neon lights. He’s standing with Lex and a few of her friends in a circle on the side of the building. I met Lex’s friends once before at a concert last year, but I don’t remember any of their names. They all seem nice enough, but it wasn’t exactly the environment to get to know them, and I doubt tonight will be any different.

“Atlas!!” Lex squeals and runs toward me at full speed when she notices me walking up. I smile and brace myself as she jumps up and attaches herself to me, squeezing the air from my lungs. “I’m so happy you came!”

“Happy Birthday!” I say when she releases her grip, and I set her back on her feet.

“Thank you. Now, give me your hand,” she demands. I do as she says, and she places a small tablet in the center of my palm.

“Aha, what did you bring?” I ask, but she just smiles and pulls on my arm, leading me to the rest of the group.

I wave hello to everyone as we approach, and then sidle up next to Ash and lean into him to say, “Hey.”

He looks up at me and smiles, “Glad you could make it.”

“Did you take one of these?” I ask, showing him the tablet Lex gave me.

“Not yet,” he says, “still deciding if I want to.”

“I’m only going to take half if you want to split it with me.”

“Yeah, actually, that’s a good idea. I hate getting too fucked up.”

“Me too,” I say as I bite the edge of it, careful not to bite it directly in half because I know it will crumble a bit anyway. The flavor is incredibly bitter, almost too much even for me. I feel a little guilty handing the other half to Ash and watching his face twist up as he swallows it.

One of Lex’s friends, a petite girl with a blonde pixie cut and glitter covering her eyelids, hands us her water bottle, “Here, you guys can finish it.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. She is now my favorite. “Remind me what your name is?”

“Blair,” she smiles and points to herself

“Right, thank you, Blair.” I take a small sip of water, just enough to wash away whatever crumbs are left behind in my mouth, and then hand the bottle to Ash who happily chugs the rest.

“Thank you so much,” he says to Blair before walking over to toss the bottle in the recycle bin.

Once inside, we stop at the counter to check our jackets with a bubbly woman who is offering everyone a Starburst from a bowl placed conveniently next to a tip jar complete with a QR code to tip digitally if you don’t have cash. I don’t touch the candy, but I do leave a generous tip when I hand her my favorite zip-up hoodie. She hands me back a numbered stub, and I take a photo of it with my phone before shoving it into my pocket, just in case.

I turn to step aside and make room for the others but stop when I see Ash pulling his hoodie up over his head. His t-shirt is stuck to it causing it to rise up and expose the bare skin of his waist. My brain short-circuits, all thoughts leaving my mind aside from the image of wrapping my hands around that waist, of getting on my knees and— “Ow!”

Lex pinches the back of my arm, snapping me back to reality. I look over at her and she points at me, her eyes squinting to a glare behind her glasses, clearly in best-friend-protection mode. “What was that for?” As if I don’t already know. She’s forgiven me for the way I hurt Ash before but obviously not forgotten.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m watching you.”

I hold my hands up in surrender, “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“Mhm,” is all she says before turning away and hooking arms with Ash as they walk up the stairs.

Prev // Next

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here? At The Violinist?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josefina Duran,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Fifth part of Intertwining Threads of Gold, based on a prompt by @time-for-a-grandkid-round-up.

(I caved. You can have it early).

The one where Mirabel becomes matriarch.

Dolores and Luisa confront Mirabel. The truth is laid out on the table.

Previous part of ITOG.

Next part of ITOG.

Comments are always appreciated.

~~~~~~

Intertwining Threads of Gold V

Mirabel had barely set a foot over Casita’s entrance when Dolores appeared.

“We need to talk.” She said.

“Oh, well, I was just going to make a start on dinner, Dolores—”

“Not you, Tía. Mirabel.”

Julieta and Agustín nodded (clearly misunderstanding this as some light-hearted conversation), stepping aside so Mirabel, who had been stood behind them, could get by.

Dolores didn’t wait for her, simply grabbed her primita’s hand and started walking. Mirabel eventually falling into pace behind her.

“What is happening? Why do we need to talk?” Mirabel whispered, genuinely confused.

“You know why.” Dolores responded.

Before Mirabel could point out the fact she didn’t and that is why she had asked in the first place, she was pulled into the sitting room.

Laying on the table was a familiar piece of cloth.

Mirabel froze.

“When… when did you go into my room?” Mirabel asked, not able to take her eyes off the thing.

“A few hours ago, but that’s not important right now.” Dolores answered.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. That’s not very acceptable behaviour.” Mirabel mumbled.

Considering Mirabel made no effort to move herself, Dolores guided her to the closest chair and sat her down in it, taking a seat across from her, where Luisa had been waiting.

“Do you want to tell us about it?”

Not that Mirabel was really going to get a choice in the matter.

“I… um…” Mirabel trembled. As Luisa had already pointed out, acting and lying weren’t skills Mirabel had. Watching her improvise would be funnier, in a different situation. “You have me floored, Dolores. What is there to tell? It’s a piece of embroidery.”

“Yes, a piece of embroidery that you made,” she pointed out.

“What? Do you actually think that is my hand? I’m honoured, prima, really. But, my needlepoint is completely incomparable to that. You have seen what I can do and it’s awful.”

Neither of them said anything.

“Well, I’m glad we had this discussion,” said Mirabel, standing. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to help my mother in the kitchen—”

“Mirabel, you seriously aren’t going to talk about this?” Luisa tried.

The girl looked back at the piece, nervously digging her nails into her arm. “I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s just a piece of embroidery.” She said, sounding small.

“Right, fine. Don’t talk.” Dolores sighed, after a minute. “I’ll just tell you about it.” She leaned over, pointing at each individual claw. “This is our family, each of our colours for these fingers, sharp and pulling; forceful. There’s your parents, my parents, Tío Bruno, Abuela—”

“It’s not,” Mirabel attempted.

“Then this,” she trailed her finger over to the hummingbird. “Is you. Small. Observant. Clever. Flighty. Having your wings ripped out, symbolising your loss of freedom.”

“Is that what it means?” Mirabel asked. “I assumed it was the thing bleeding to death.” She took a breath, taking a step backwards. “I think the lesson we should all take from this is that perception and imagery is really up to the individual, and there is no definite right or wrong answer.”

They stared at each other.

Take two.

“Luisa, here’s two lists of chores,” she turned, handing her cousin two crumpled bits of paper, before grabbing Mirabel’s arm. “Come back when you’re finished.”

Luisa got up, nodding without a word. Leaving quickly.

“W-where is she going?” Mirabel asked.

“To do some work.” Dolores answered.

“But nobody is meant to be working after six in the evening though. It’s half seven.”

“You don’t say.”

“Where is she going?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you refused to tell us about the tapestry, so I thought I’d do the same. You want my knowledge? You can pay the price for it.”

Mirabel wailed, almost a scream.

Dolores raised a brow.

“I… I can’t… Do you promise you’ll tell me where she is? As soon as I’m done?”

“You have my word.”

~~~~~~

Luisa really should have tried harder to convince Dolores out of this idea.

The weather has taken a miserable turn which she didn’t prepare for and she isn’t allowed back to Casita for another hour, according to the plan.

She and Dolores had argued for the last two and a bit hours over what exactly they should do with the new information they’d found. Finally, they’d decided to toss a coin and Luisa promptly lost. So subsequently she had to go with Dolores’ plan.

Dolores’ plan of confronting Mirabel with the hard evidence didn’t sound appealing as a hypothetical, never mind actually doing it. And then after working her into a clearly overwhelmed and stressed state, to then pull out this card of forcing her into a confession. Dolores might as well have just asked Luisa to crack something.

Mirabel had sounded so broken and concerned though when she realised Luisa was going to work. The tapestry, and convincing Dolores she knew nothing of it, quickly forgotten.

Poor baby. Dolores is going to eat her alive—

What the hell?

She looked over at honestly the last person she expected to see out here, on the bridge and sobbing.

“Mirabel?”

The girl didn’t turn around, but as Luisa got closer she had her answer confirmed.

Mirabel’s eyes were very red and leaking with tears, blood dripping down her arm from her nails earlier. Too far into her grief that she didn’t even react initially to Luisa’s presence, didn’t even turn around and attempt to insist she was fine.

“Mirabel?” Her sister froze at her name, Luisa could almost hear her lungs working overtime. “It’s Luisa. It’s just me, I promise.”

Luisa stepped closer taking Mirabel’s hand into one of her own, rubbing some warmth into the cold, shaky appendage. With her other hand, Mirabel pushed her glasses aside and began drying her eyes.

“What happened with Dolores?” Luisa asked.

“I spoke. Tía Pepa heard us and came in. She had thoughts about the tapestry,” Mirabel mumbled.

Well. That explains the weather.

“Dolores admitted you weren’t working. I left and came here. I didn’t want to… I don’t want to be there when she tells everyone else. Or after.” She took a shaky breath. “What are you doing out here if you aren’t working? You aren’t wearing enough layers; you’re going to catch a cold, Luisa.”

Luisa just scooped her sister up into a hug. “You are so precious. But you can mother hen me later. We need to talk.”

She takes the opportunity to set Mirabel back on the ground, ending the hug, so the other can have some breathing room.

Mirabel glanced down at their hands.

“We both know what the tapestry means. But I want to hear it from you,” Luisa said. “Doesn’t need to be specific. I just want to know what’s going on and how I can help. I promise I won’t be mad or upset with anything that you tell me.”

Mirabel nodded in defeat, taking another breath, “I… I don’t want to be the matriarch. But… I have to. It’s what the family wants. And you are all too important, it is my job as the pawn to fill in wherever. And everyone would be disappointed in me if I didn’t… and I don’t… I don’t want to be that burden again.”

Silence settles between the two.

Luisa can feel Mirabel’s pulse quickening through soft skin. As she continues to stare off at the river, shivering or shaking or both, and her eyes water again.

Antonio once said that a hummingbird’s heartbeat goes over a thousand beats per minute.

She thinks Mirabel has managed to double that.

“Mirabel, nobody thinks you’re a burden - the only one saying that is you,” Luisa says firmly but as gently as she can. “And nobody will be disappointed in you if you don’t want to be the matriarch. It’s totally reasonable why you wouldn’t because of.. the past, but also because it just isn’t something you’re interested in. And if anyone thinks otherwise they can talk to me.” She turned Mirabel around to look at her. “You’re insanely intelligent and wonderfully creative, and too good to be wasted for a council because someone else decided for you. If this was the other way around, you wouldn’t let me do it, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why are you different?”

Mirabel opened her mouth to argue but sighed. Good. Luisa was going to shut down the giftless excuse very quickly.

She slowly got up, pulling Mirabel to her feet as well. They slowly headed home.

“But… what would I do instead?” Mirabel inquired.

“Whatever you want,” she answered, smiling. “It’s your future. What did you want to do before all of this happened?”

“I don’t know. I assumed I would just continue doing household chores forever. When I tried getting a job last summer, everyone just laughed at me and said ‘no’. I figured nobody wanted me.” Luisa looked offended and pissed, but Mirabel didn’t notice. “It’s probably why I forced myself into this; to feel wanted.”

She might actually kill some of the townspeople.

For now, she pulled Mirabel closer, giving a mocking sigh. “I’ll just have to bring you to work with me. Then you’ll feel wanted.”

Mirabel laughed.

A genuine laugh and smile.

“I’d love to, but I don’t think heavy lifting, construction and architecture is any more of a skill of mine than governing and leadership is.”

“Maybe it’s for the best.” Luisa teased, nudging her. “You’d probably just lecture me about not wearing special protective gloves or goggles or a safety helmet or something.”

“Please, I’m not that pedantic— I’m sorry, you’re not wearing what?”

[ladylooch]

https://www.tumblr.com/ladylooch/739982675094487040/has-there-ever-been-a-time-where-timo-got-like

How does T approach Em about what happened last night🥹

I love how Liv knew something wasn’t right and knew to call T😭

TW: Domestic violence - this one gutted me babes.

Both Timo and Emma are up early that next morning, unable to sleep as Liv tosses and turns between them all night. They finally give up, heading downstairs together in the dark to make coffee. Emma goes to sit on the couch, waiting for Timo to come over with their cups. She holds her hot mug in two hands, letting it warm up her skin.

“What happened last night?”

“Lara’s parents were fighting and Liv got scared. When she was talking to me on the phone, she was very quiet. I could hear her teeth chattering a bit and she was hesitant about getting off the phone with me. When I got there, she came rushing out of the house, completely different than how I dropped her off. We spoke in the car about why she called. She was unsure about what had happened, but she seemed to think Lara’s dad hit Lara’s mom.” Emma’s eyes widen.

“She heard that?”

“Yeah. She could hear them fighting, then said it sounded like a slap or someone running into something.”

“Oh my god.” Emma brings her cup to her mouth, holding it here while concern for her daughter scorns her heart. “Then she called you?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m so glad she called.”

“Me too. We should reinforce that with her this morning.”

“Totally.” Emma nods. She rubs at her neck, thinking. 

“I told her you and I would deal with this. Lara’s mom seemed concerned about getting others involved, but that doesn’t sit right with me.”

“No.” Emma agrees. “We could tell the school? Ask for advice?”

“That is what I was thinking. They have probably dealt with this before…”

“Unfortunately.” Emma agrees. 

“How was Livy on the ride home?”

“Quiet. But when we got here, she asked me if what she thought happened was correct. I… told her yes. I don’t know if that was wrong to do, but I don’t want her to not trust her gut either.”

“No, I think that was okay, T.” Emma assures him.

“Then,” Timo stops, sighing heavily, moving his lips to one side of his mouth as he tears up. “She said to me ‘you would never hit mama’ and it wrecked me babe.”

“Oh no.”

“Like fuck. I felt her innocence just evaporate when she said that.” Tears begin to form in Emma’s eyes too. Their baby having to experience something so adult and violent, wrecks them both on the couch while the sun begins to bleed into the sky. Yes, to Timo and Emma it is assuring their daughter knows violence such as what she experienced would never happen in their home. But it doesn’t replace the deep achey pain in their chest that Livy had to go through this at all to know that. Timo wipes at his eyes. Emma sets her coffee mug on the table, then curls into Timo’s lap. They hold each other quietly contemplating. 

“We have to talk to her.” Timo speaks first.

“Yeah, this morning after breakfast.” Emma sniffs. Timo nods in agreement.

Liv is the last Meier child to come downstairs for breakfast that morning. Timo had gone up around 9 am to check on her. She had still been curled up in a deep sleep. Emma sets aside a waffle and some fresh fruit for when she awakens. She comes down in her same unicorn pajamas, rubbing at her eyes with wild brown hair. 

“Hi babe.” Timo greets her. Livy walks straight over to her dad, hugging him. Timo brings her into his lap. “You want a waffle?” Liv nods. 

Emma and Timo watch Liv closely the next half hour. Liv is not a morning girl, so her lack of speaking is not unusual. Her clinginess to Timo on the other hand was. After she eats, Timo moves them to the couch as Emma encourages the boys to go play hockey downstairs.

“Lio, no slap shots!” Emma yells down after him. 

“Can I read my book on the couch with you?” Liv asks Timo as Emma comes to the other side of her.

“Sure, in a minute.” Timo smoothes her hair down. “Mama and I want to talk to you.” 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No.” They both assure her right away. They had discussed and both decided Emma would take the lead while Timo would provide the physical safety and jump in when needed. 

“Daddy and I want to talk about what happened last night at Lara’s.” Liv immediately looks down. “Baby, what happened wasn’t okay. Violence is never acceptable.” Emma reaches for her chin, tilting it up so she is looking into Emma’s eyes. Her little blue eyes fill with tears. Emma bites her tongue hard to not cry. She swallows hard before continuing. “I’m so sorry you had to experience that. You were really brave to call daddy. You did the right thing. We are so proud of you.” 

Liv starts to weep, sad little mewls that claw at her parents’ hearts, creating deep lesions. Emma purses her lips while her and Timo rub Liv’s back together.

“Can you talk to us about what you’re feeling?”

“I’m sad.” 

“Can you tell me more?” Emma encourages, unsure of what specifically Livy is fixated on. Is it what happened? Is it talking about it? Is it because she doesn’t want to talk about it with them?

“Because Lara has to hear that a lot.” Timo exhales heavily, dropping his head to Liv’s crown as she continues. 

“Baby, does Lara talk about this at school?”

“Yeah.” Livy says, “But she asked me not to tell.” Livy burst into deep sobs at that, clearly feeling like she is betraying her friend. Emma nods, rubbing her back harder to comfort Liv.

“There are some things we need to talk about, baby. If you hear about someone being hurt, mommy and daddy have to know. We are adults. We know what to do. You don’t have to do anything with it. That is our job, okay?” Liv nods, sniffing and hiccuping slightly. Emma folds her and Timo’s hands together. He grips her fingers back tightly. 

“I don’t wanna talk anymore.” She whimpers.

“Okay, we can take a break.” Emma soothes her. “This is hard stuff.” Livy nods in agreement. “You’re safe, okay?” Emma combs her fingers through her hair. Timo lifts his face, clearly crying, but Liv can’t see. He wipes his tears discreetly, then looks out their back windows towards the lake with red-rimmed eyes. Liv burrows deeper into Timo, who is more than happy to hold her tighter. 

Emma slides herself under one of Timo’s elbows to be held my him too. 

The three of them lay there, listening to the sounds of the boys shooting downstairs, feeling gutted by whatever is happening in the home across town from them. 

[restlessmaknae]

love roulette | keeho

It's a casual uni party, and you meet three very different guys that night: Keeho, the chatty bartender; Jiung, the cute vocalist of the band that's playing that night; Taeyang, the guy who's there for the gig just like you.

Who ends up walking you home depends on your choice.

🎲 This is the ending with KEEHO.

🎲 To read the general setting, go back to the start.

♦️ Pairing: female!reader/you x bartender!keeho

♦️ Genre: fluff, romance, uni au

♦️ Warning: mentions of alcohol

♦️ Word count: 2.9k

♦️ Dedicated to: @dat-town❤️

♦️ P1Harmony taglist: @tranquilpetrichor, @laaylaazyy, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @bamboongi, @syrxiee2, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @sunooslover, @chang-ryul, @dat-town

🎲 READ FURTHER FOR KEEHO'S ENDING

The rest of the gig was fun just like the first part, and thankfully, no more mishaps came your way. Taeyang enjoyed himself beside you, but he did leave after the performance was over because he admitted that he was there because of the band playing. To that, Gaeul couldn’t help but fangirl a little. However, he let the boy go - albeit with a pout - when he insisted that he didn’t want to bother anyone anymore.

“He was no bother. What was he thinking?” Your friend huffed a bit, but he was grateful nevertheless that the boy had helped you out earlier.

“He was practically a stranger. It’s not like you can set me up with every stranger.”

“I would if I could, you know,” Gaeul smacked you in your side, and sent you a wink. Of course you knew, she was that type of person. You had met her when she was already with Intak, so since her love life was already taken care of, it seemed that she wanted to meddle with others’ non-existent love life instead.

You just sent her a knowing look, but there was a smile forming on your lips. Maybe it was the pleasant times you spent together or how you cried over stressful times together, and how she was always there for you when you needed it - and not just as a roommate but as a friend too -, and she didn’t push you aside even if she was in a relationship, but you were really glad to have her in your life. That’s why you wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge against her or get mad even if she was oh so obviously setting you up with guys when you gave in to hang out with her at such places.

“Uh, how about that blue cocktail now? Intak said they would come soon, but we still have some time,” she suggested as her previous words about getting herself that cool-looking cocktail came to mind. You nodded, giving in to her suggestion, and went to the bar with your arms linked together, so that you wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd.

There were currently two bartenders working, and coincidentally, you ended up in front of Keeho again. When looking up from the counter and meeting your eyes, realisation hit him, and he gave you a big, commercial-like smile.

“Can’t get enough of my Winter Wonderland cocktail?” He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, and you felt a tug on your arm. Gaeul caught onto the fact that you had met before, it seemed, not that you should have been surprised.

“Actually, it would be for my friend this time. She said it looked cool, so she would like to give it a try,” you explained to the bartender who seemed to take notice of the girl beside you only then. His smile didn’t falter though. If anything, it just became wider.

“Oh, so you even promoted my drink. I feel fluttered,” he exclaimed theatrically as he put a hand over his heart. Gaeul started giggling beside you right immediately.

“Too bad I’m already taken. I feel like we could get along well,” she blurted out joyfully as the bartender got cracking on the drink. Your eyes widened comically as you glanced in the girl’s direction, but she was her usual casual self, and Keeho didn’t seem to mind her comment either.

“We can still be friends, you know,” the boy shrugged his shoulders equally casually, and your assumption of him getting along well with everyone seemed to be true as they kept conversing. The chit-chat just flew naturally, and somewhere along the way, Gaeul even mentioned that even if she was with someone, you weren’t taken, and you just hit her arm playfully while Keeho let out a carefree laughter seeing your friendly banter.

“Note taken,” he concluded with a semi-childish smile, and you had a feeling that he didn’t take it seriously, but still… The fact that he didn’t say he was taken made you question whether he was just more private about his relationship status than your friend was, or he was actually single.

Anyways, you couldn’t keep up the conversation for too long because Keeho was working, so you stepped aside, leaning towards the counter while waiting for the boys to show up. You couldn’t help but glance in the bartender’s direction though, and once, you even caught his eyes, so you immediately turned away. You were sure your face flushed.

A couple more minutes went by, and Intak showed up with Jiung by his side. Hyunsuk had given Doyum a ride back home because they lived in the same neighbourhood, so that left you with only the other two coming back. As expected, Intak was more preoccupied with his girlfriend than with his bandmate who took that as a sign to leave. You would have liked to leave too, only leaving the lovebirds behind, but the two kept bickering, and Gaeul insisted that she wouldn’t leave until she finished her cocktail.

In the end, Intak drank probably half of it because he was also intrigued by the colour, and instead of putting the glass back on the counter like anyone else would, the girl waited until Keeho was free and passed it back onto the chatty bartender while you were having a few words with the bassist.

Gaeul came back smiling, and you gave her a puzzled look. She looked like she had been up to something, and her boyfriend caught onto that, too, asking about the reason behind her mischievous smile while throwing an arm around her shoulder.

“I’ve asked your favourite bartender when he is leaving, and I’ve also asked him to walk you back to the dorms,” she admitted giddily, and your jaw literally dropped. What was she thinking? Asking a practically stranger to walk you home? “Before you would protest, he said yes, and I also warned him that if he does anything inappropriate, I know where he works, so I could easily find and take care of him.”

“That’s my girl,” Intak hollered, pretty impressed, and raised his hand for a high-five. The girl joined in, and now you had two widely smiling faces staring at you, not just one.

“You know, you’re pretty crazy.”

“I know you love me. Thank me later when you get together,” she winked at you playfully, and even though you had a nervous knot in your stomach, you were actually not that terrified of Keeho walking you home. Sure, he might have been a stranger, but you had a feeling that he was one of those people who could befriend everyone or at least found a few topics to talk about with anyone, so at least your walk back to the dorms wouldn’t be that boring. Though you were pretty hungry too…

So you asked Gaeul when the bartender would be leaving because you were already pretty hungry, and she said 10 minutes top, so you decided to wait it out while Intak and Gaeul were in their own world, talking about the 7-month anniversary date that they would go on after this. They were a cute couple, a pretty fun on top of that, but you always felt like you were third-wheeling beside them no matter how inclusive they were.

Hence, you were actually relieved when Keeho showed up, and after Intak vibe checked him, your friend and her boyfriend sent you two on your way. You were just about to tell Keeho that you were hungry when he suggested grabbing something to eat.

“I was just about to say that.”

“I’m actually a mindreader, but don’t tell anyone,” Keeho put his index finger on his lips as if he wanted to shush you, and you nodded fervently as if you took his warning seriously. After that though, both of you burst into laughter, and the good mood carried on until you made your way to a nearby American-style diner where you got yourself a strawberry milkshake and some pancakes followed by Keeho’s example who said that they were the best pancakes in Seoul.

“Besides that, pancakes for dinner is a criminally underrated concept. Who said that it’s a breakfast food? I think I need to talk with them,” he blabbered mindlessly, making big hand gestures in the meantime. You couldn’t help but laugh at his exclamation, he just had that dramatic vibe around him, it was difficult to take him seriously.

As you two were having your dinner, the conversation didn't stop. Keeho was the type of person who could bring up any topic that came to his mind in between two bites, so it felt like one of those quiz shows where there were rapid rounds of questions you needed to answer. Not that the boy didn't give you enough time to answer, it was just that you jumped from one topic to another pretty quickly. Once you talked about your uni major, then you jumped onto your favourite songs, then favourite colour, then opinion on pineapple on pizza and so on. You got to know that he was working at the bar because he liked music, he liked getting to know people (though not drunk ones, he admitted with a semi-jokester smile), and because he was trying to make money for a European trip. He didn't yet know what he wanted to do as a profession, but he hoped that this trip could make him realise what his strength was, and how he could use that for a job.

"I think the fact that you get along so well with strangers is a pretty big strength in itself. You might think you aren't doing anything special, but I know that I wouldn't be able to do the same," you confessed straightforwardly, not ashamed that you were on the other end of the spectrum when it came to extroversion-introversion.

“What? I think we’ve overcome the strangers phase, haven’t we?” Keeho gaped dramatically, but continued on with a lighthearted laughter carrying his words. “For real though, I am usually outgoing, but there are people who can’t take my extraness and my extra sass, might I say, so sometimes it doesn’t really work out with them. I might be a bit oblivious, but I can sense when it’s reeeeally awkward with someone, so I just don’t force it then. I don’t feel like I have to force this conversation with you though,” he came to a halt and looked at you, expectantly. As the lights shone on him in that moment, you actually realised that his hair wasn’t totally black, it had deep blue strikes in it, too. It was pretty cool, and fit him and his outfit so well. Huh, how come you had not noticed it before?

“I hope I’m sensing it right,” he added hopefully, bringing you back to reality from your quite long stare at the boy’s hair and style. You tried to act coolly, hoping that he didn’t actually think that you were checking him out, more like zoning out (with him in the view).

“Yeah, absolutely. I was just curious. You seem like you can get along well with everyone.”

“Ah thanks,” he snickered and acted as if he flipped his hair. “That’s just my charm, I guess,” he added proudly before taking a few sips from his milkshake. You just shook your head; when he acted like this, he reminded you a bit of Gaeul, and how she was so eccentric sometimes, but maybe you found his behaviour charming because of the similarity to your friend.

A few seconds passed by without you two saying a word, just munching on your pancakes delightfully, but then, Keeho broke the silence.

"I know there are a lot of people-centric jobs out there, it's just that I haven't found the one yet. Though I don't mind my current job either. If nothing else comes, I'll be happy to continue doing it," he mentioned with a light, yet determined smile. You could tell that he was being honest, and you deemed that it was a great forte when people enjoyed what they were doing even while they were searching for something else. You remembered when you had that summer job as a shop assistant to raise money to go on a few day trip in the countryside with your high school friends, and while you were glad to have made money, you hadn't particularly enjoyed it.

"I mean, you're still young. You have time to figure it out."

"You say it like you're so old," he mentioned playfully, and you couldn't help but agree with him. You let out a giggle before explaining that you didn't even know that what you were studying for would end up being something you like as a real job, so you tried to reassure yourself with this in mind.

"I mean, what's there to worry about? What is meant to be will eventually happen," he pointed out with a casual shrug before taking another bite from his pancake. You nodded to his words because you also felt this way, and what better way to prove it than to look at yourself now with the chatty bartender from before.

The rest of the conversation went as smoothly as possible, filled with jokes and laughter and everything in between. Even though you were very different from Keeho in terms of your personalities, you didn't feel uneasy while being with him. If anything, it felt like you were perfectly at ease beside him because he made you feel good - in general and about yourself as well. You felt weightless as if you were in the clouds, and time passed by in a haze.

You only realised how late it was when you started yawning, and despite Keeho's joke about him boring you, he was the one who suggested going now. So you did, and even though you told him that he didn't have to feel compelled to walk you back to the dorms as per Gaeul's instructions, he insisted.

"I'm a gentleman. I absolutely must walk you home or else your friend will haunt me in my dreams," he faked being scared as he put his hands on his chest, but let out a laugh at the same time as you did.

You didn't protest though, so the walk to the dorms was equally as fun as the conversations with him before. You did get a few weird glances though when the boy suddenly broke into an Ariana Grande concert, but your face was red only because of laughing, not because of the embarrassment.

"You know, walking you back to the dorms was pretty fun when I didn't even know the route," Keeho admitted cheerily as you halted in front of the dorm building. His eyes were twinkling, shining oh so brightly and enthusiastically like a child’s. He did act like a big kid sometimes, but you found that really precious; that the world out there didn’t take this side away from him.

"But you did follow my lead well."

"I sure did, ma'am. You can also tell Gaeul about that," he continued being the prankster he was, but his facial expression soon turned more natural as he got out of his role. The creases on his forehead smoothened, the end of his lips curled upwards and instead of a cheeky smile, there was an almost melancholic smile on his face. A momentary silence struck you as you gazed at each other, looking for the right words to say. He had really pretty eyes, you noticed, and not just because of the life and joy in them, but because of their deep, dark yet gentle colour. You could probably stare at them for a while.

"I should probably head inside," you broke the silence, braving yourself to be the one to speak up first when you felt like it would have been inappropriate to stare at him any longer. He nodded, not taking your words to heart.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need some company. I usually have the same shift as today," he shared, not forcing you to stay in contact but giving you the opportunity to see him nevertheless.

"I will. Thanks for everything," you were about to bid your goodbye with a wave of your hand and a wide smile when your phone beeped with a message. You fished your phone out of your pocket and looked down at it, then at the bartender in front of you. He was already looking at you, his boyish smile on full display.

"Did Gaeul give you my number?"

"She did, but I wasn't sure whether she gave me a fake one or not, so I wanted to try it out before you leave," he confessed as he scratched the back of his neck. He seemed giddy and cheeky, almost child-like with that smile on his lips and his eyes twinkling, and your heart felt warm at the sight.

Now that he checked that the given phone number was real, he let you go your way, but he stood there in front of the building until you got out of his sight, and he stopped waving excitedly only when you stepped into the building. You shook your head in disbelief, but you also found yourself smiling.

If somebody had told you that you would end up walking back to the dorms with a boy like him, you wouldn't have believed them. That night, however, was full of surprises, and getting to know Keeho was the best of all.

🎲 CONGRATS! THIS IS THE END OF THE GAME

🎲 WANNA CHECK OUT ANOTHER ENDING?

🍀JIUNG

🍀THEO

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story! I hope you’ve enjoyed it! ❤️

At first, I was pretty scared to get cracking on this series because I've never written anything like this before, but I think each ending has its own charm, so I'm happy that I could finish it. *-* I'm always fascinated by the idea of chance encounters and many different possibilities leading to a certain ending, so that's what I wanted to show here, too.

Let me know what you think! Did you like the idea behind the series?

On another note, if you’re interested in other fics of mine or other P1Harmony stories, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! ❤️

[ripplestitchskein]

I've been binge reading your Helluva Boss and Stolitz posts for a while now and I love how mature and nuanced your takes are. I've run into a good deal too many Stolitz antis on Twitter who won't give Stolas and Blitzo's relationship a chance to improve later, despite the show clearly trying to do just that. I'm especially tired of people saying that their relationship is one-sided. And even when actual evidence is put out there that Blitzo actually does like Stolas back, they say it doesn't count because those hints are less than 5 second long small details rather than being spoonfed to them. Just argued with one of them on Twitter like an hour ago and that's exactly what they said. And they accused ME of not paying attention because in their mind, Stolitz was built up from sexual assault, and they think Blitzo's line in Western Energy "He can get hurt?" is somehow out of character which confused the hell out of me, and they kept insisting that Blitzo had "zero interest" in Stolas no matter what.

Thank you so much!! I do try my best to be as rational and logical as possible so I’m glad it’s coming through, not to say I don’t have emotionally based reactions or bias but in my meta analysis I try to set my personal feelings about the text presented aside and just talk about what it could potentially mean based on recurring elements, themes, and deliberate choices made throughout not just in individual scenes.

LooLoo Land is a perfect example, there are some moments in that episode I heavily dislike (Blitzø shoving the dolls down his pants, the “as long as she washes it” convo, and Stolas being sexually inappropriate in front of his kid) so I do understand some of the criticism. It was also episode two and being a creative myself I know firsthand that things like that happen. You put in things early, for a joke, a laugh, to highlight personalities and they don’t necessarily come across the way you intended or jive with where the story ends up. Which is why a lot of my analysis takes in the entirety of what we have so far, the recurring stuff, not just individual moments or one off lines.

I’ve always maintained that it’s crucial to remember that creators are not perfect beings who are getting their story from on high fully formed, they make mistakes, they get inspired and take things in a different direction as things develop, they can contradict themselves over time. It happens.

It’s also a cartoon so it’s limited in how much it can even do, how expressive the characters can be, how much time they have to explore and the medium absolutely comes into play when analyzing it. Art has always been and will always be subjective, and unless the creator flat out contradicts something it’s largely left to interpretation, but that interpretation cannot be based on one scene, or one episode, or a one off bit of dialogue or a single expression either.

I always encourage not wasting your time arguing with people who are still serving up early content talking points or who dont have media literacy as a learned skilled. I know it’s super hard, I’m guilty of it myself. I was so close to going off on a “Stella and Stolas are mutually abusive” take last night you have no idea. It was more the dude was just being deliberately obtuse to the point I stopped myself and was like “they have to be trolling, no way someone believes this”. You can’t change their minds, they obviously don’t want to engage with the material from a place of good faith, and it just bums you out at the end of it.

A lot of them are really young too I find, which may be part of the disparity. I’m 38 so I have a lot of different experiences to draw from they haven’t had yet. I’ve been a fandom girl since I was a kid, I’ve always been a shipper and I also create things so my perspective is further down the line and with lived experience some people don’t have yet. I’m reminded of this daily, my oldest son is 18 and we have many conversations where I’m reminded about how much you learn as you grow older and the assumptions you make as a younger person. This is not to say that younger people can’t think critically but it is a skill and it improves over time like any other.

I also encourage people to think of what is being said and why. There is a lot of hate for VivziePop as a person. My understanding is she said some things early on and created a hate base that is going to deliberately misinterpret just to validate their initial assumptions about her motive and character. With popular things there is always a small subset that hate a show because of its popularity too, I don’t think because they are jealous like some speculate but because they didn’t personally enjoy it and don’t like feeling like they are missing something, so they take it in a “it must be the children who are wrong” Principal Skinner approach. They can’t see why people love it so those people must be ignoring what they didn’t like about it and they must tell them.

Sometimes people like another ship or another character more, and their ship might involve one half of yours, or they don’t feel their character is getting the same focus and attention because of yours. So instead of just letting everyone enjoy their own things it’s now a competition, a source of resentment and they must make that everyone else’s problem.

And I’ve talked about the fascistic purity culture that seems to encroach into fiction spaces as well that is also at heavily play. Any time a character does anything that is vaguely “toxic”, “problematic” they are immediately painted with the SA brush, the creator is promoting it and the fans are enabling it and are somehow directly responsible for it existing in the world. You can’t do anything about them except enjoy what you like, look at it critically within your own personal comfort level, and as always, my favorite thing to say “kill the cop in your head.” Not just with fiction but everything.

I’m glad my analysis is being enjoyed, and I super appreciate your feedback on it. Come to my inbox anytime and we’ll enjoy the ride together!

[newtonsheffield]

Thank you so much for the update to Bruises! It, as with all of your work, is so beautifully written! I think this story/world will always be my favorite.

How does Anthony react when he sees he finally got a daughter? 🥹🥰

I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying it so much. It’s always tricky to go back to something you write a while ago but I was surprised how nice it felt to be back in this universe.

Anthony is positive that this baby is a girl. And honestly, when she gets further through this pregnancy, kate starts to agree with him because she’s just carrying so differently than she did with Edmund and Miles.

Anthony had hardly breathed it felt like, from the moment that Gregory had come galloping towards him in the field, Lily’s hooves pounding across the grass. “Anthony! Kate’s having the baby!”

He had abandoned his work so quickly his head was still spinning as he leapt onto Nelson’s back and followed Gregory back, leaving his brother to put both horses back in the stable. He burst through the door and into the bedroom before the midwife had even arrived.

“Are you alright?”

Kate smiled from the bed, arranging her knitting around her, “Of course, I have done this twice before you know.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Well, perhaps we could give ourself a day off from knitting just this once, love.”

Kate scoffed, “Do you know how much I’ve to knit, Anthony Bridgerton? Do you know how many jerseys Gregory tears and Neddy’s growing out of his and-”

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” Anthony held his hands a loft and he collapsed into the chair beside the bed. “When it comes time, can you at least set it aside?”

“I’ll consider it.”

He whiled away the time, knowing that Daphne was downstairs with the children, squeezing Kate’s hand as she brought their child into the world with the midwife rolling her eyes at his continued refusal to leave. And then there she was.

“Oh a beautiful baby girl.” The midwife hummed as a cry broke through the night.

Anthony’s heart stopped, tears welling in his eyes, and his chest felt tight as she handed the baby to Kate. “It’s a girl? You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I know that can often be disappointing men,” The midwife tutted, “But you’ve two healthy boys already, Mr Bridgerton.”

Anthony shook his head and he felt Kate’s hand gentle on his hair, “No, I… wanted a…”

His voice caught in his throat and he took a shuddering breath trying to swallow the lump in his throat but he couldn’t. His hand shook as he reached out, smoothing over the shock of dark brown hair already on his daughter’s head, the exact same shade as her brother’s. It was beginning to curl at the edges just as her brother’s hair had as well and he knew she would have Kate’s curls, the ones he had longed for his children to have. It always took his breath away, the first time he looked at his child, warm and swaddled in Kate’s arms, so new to life.

“She’s beautiful.” He finally managed to choke out, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at his tiny daughter. She clenched her fist around his finger, and her eyes opened, staring straight up at him. She had Kate’s eyes, and the curve of her nose and the same tilt of her lips and he still couldn’t breathe. “She looks just like you.”

“Careful,” Kate chuckled tiredly, “Being so charming, I’ve only just had a baby.”

Anthony chuckled through his tears, “I love you so much, and her, and the boys and… I just have so much love now.”

“I love you too and she is beautiful, I think she’ll have little dimples. And probably Papa wrapped around her little finger.” Kate hummed tugging on his arms until they formed a cradle and placing the baby in them.

“Well, there was never any doubt.” Anthony smiled.

[gravelsong]

Lmao glad to see I’m not the only one who thought “this could have been hot rod” the second they showed bee, granted I thought that too with beasts mirage but still- give me my stupid orange idiot

I only reason I can imagine why nobody would ever consider Hot Rod for the comedic relief role is because I don't think Hot Rod's public perception has EVER recovered from how he was used in any of the theatrical TF movies. From what I've gathered from outsiders, very little people pay attention to transformers aside from the movies, and considering how Hot Rod's only roles in them has been Optimus's Replacement (who got that role after the brutal g1 character slaughter which traumatized children. He's still awesome in that movie, I just don't think a lot of non-big tf fans really moved past that) and French, it probably makes marketing sense that nobody wants to fuck with him again.

Even though Hot Rod would've made sense more personality-wise for Mirage's role, I can probably get why they chose to make him Mirage. We all know that transformers has a history with reconstructing existing characters and also giving lesser-used names to characters who really aren't the same person (I love ROTB Mirage but that man is NOT g1 Mirage), and there aren't many non-tf-fan people who will know who Mirage actually is (and considering how bayverse Mirage isn't even named Mirage? Yeah, they were probably looking for a character name that hadn't been used in Bayverse yet. Personally I think we should sever Knightverse's connections to Bayverse), so they just kinda fuck-it-we-balled it.

But then that just makes the choice to make Bee fill the comedic role for TF: One even more confusing. Bee is one of the most popular characters in Transformers history (along with Optimus, Megatron, and Starscream), and has a STRONGLY set personality. He's a bit of a wisecracker at times, yeah, but the core of his character was more connected to the emotional side of things rather than comedic. He's connected with humans, he's gentle, he holds his friendships so strongly, he's actually a lot more disgruntled and upset at times than some people give him credit for. Bee's always been the friendly one, but his friendliness isn't really displayed in constant joking, but rather through the physical and emotional ways he shows his care. The fun part about Hot Rod and Bee's dynamic (that we rarely get to see unfortunately) is how they can both be on a similar page of amusement, but in different flavors. Hot Rod IS the more louder and outspoken one of the two, if anyone's initiating wisecracks, it's HIM (if it makes sense this way, Bee's energy feels rounded and bouncy, while Hot Rod's feels sharp and bold).

I don't want to doubt the writers' personal history in transformers outside of what they've publicly done for the franchise (The Last Knight is something I personally would be ashamed of having on my resume), because sometimes what you publicly do doesn't exactly equate to your passion or care, but it does make me wonder how much experience they have with these characters individually.

It could also be the age-old case of Hollywood going "make it marketable as shit" so they go the route of "we need to fill these character roles with the classic group dynamic: main character, best friend, the funny one, and girl" and they just went with who were the most marketable faces.

All-in-all, it's a confusing-ass choice to just NOT include Hot Rod if you need comedic relief, and also make Bumblebee something he's not. Unless they subvert expectations in some way with him, it feels like they could've used anyone else and it would make more sense.

[clover4found]

I’ve been rereading the Vampire Academy books and so far they’ve been just as amazing as when I read them before.

Although as I’m nearing 23 I find it so weird to think about finding a 16/17 year old attractive.

Another thing is that Rose is a lot of great things. But sometimes she just comes across as a huge complainer. And she really is soooooo stubborn.

There are times when I’m reading the book and I’m like girl why would you say that or do that? But that’s the difference in mind set with age.

Back when I read these books when I was like 18/19 I completely thought she was a 100% valid for everything. Except when she lead Adrian on. And then cheated on him. Adrian was so good to Rose and he definitely deserved better. Even if it would have made things uncomfortable and awkward she should have told Adrian that she still loved Dimitri and now that he was back from being Strigori, it was different.

And don’t get me wrong, I love that Dimitri and Rose end up together because they really do belong together. After all they went through and the fact that Rose was never gonna let him go makes it seem like no one would ever fill the void of Dimitri.

And I know that when your life is so crazy and busy that sometimes it hard to slow down and figure out how you actually feel about someone.

Except now that I’m older I understand that the 7 year difference was really creepy. And yet I also understand that Rose isn’t a normal teenager in the story. She could die at any time by Strigori and she knew that one day she would become a Guardian and might not have a life since she never wanted to part from Lissa. So in a way it makes sense how she rushed so many things.

And Dimitri, while I do love the way that he cared for her and showed up for her when she needed him. There was a power dynamic there. And he never should have had sex with her while she was a minor.

Anyways putting some of those things aside for now. I really disagree with some other things about how she handled stuff with Lissa. And her mom.

And I REALLY wish there had been a scene with Dimitri going back to Russia with Rose and seeing his family. Like that would have completed me inside to have known that he reconnected with them. But we didn’t get it.

Anyways all those things aside, the books are great. Even with my mindset change, I still found myself enjoying the books and relating to some of the thoughts and feelings that Rose had. And I’m glad she didn’t get stuck in a jail cell for life for a crime she didn’t commit.

Anyone else feel the same?

[caitlin666]

My thoughts on the vampire kisses series (books 1-5).

Rereading the books (currently on book 6) and I’m putting my thoughts down on the first half of the series. Mostly critiques because while I love the series, it’s not perfect.

-How come if Ravens parents used to be HIPPIES, why are they so against her gothic style? This makes zero sense to me

-The first part of the first book is one of the highlights for me, and honestly I feel like instead of what we got in book 4, that book could have been about Raven going back to New Orleans and exploring New Orleans and meeting Anne Rice again

-That brings me to my next point about how out of the first half of the series, book 4 is the weakest book by far. It wasn’t as exciting as any of the others and Valentine was a useless character.

-Why did Raven have to wear RED to her corporate job? Black can be very classy if styled properly. I know multiple people who aren’t even goth and wear black (or mostly black with a white blouse) to their corporate job.

-Is it weird to say that while the bullying Raven experienced is not ok, the bullying I experienced was a lot worse than she experienced. She acts like the bullying she experienced was “hardcore” when it wasn’t? Although it makes no sense why the bullies hate her guts for no apparent reason. While she dresses goth, Raven is fairly normal acting, so it doesn’t make any sense. Whereas I was bullied for both my style and personality. I’m not saying they have to befriend Raven, but it makes no sense why they (Trevor, Jennifer, Heather) hate her guts SO much, are they THAT bitter and insecure?

-Ravens NLOG energy was by far the worst in the first book and I’m glad it toned down in the later books.

-Alexander was gaslighting and manipulating Raven in the first book claiming she was “crazy” for thinking he’s a vampire when she’s right?

-I wanted the books to dive into ravens other interests instead of gothic fashion and music and vampires. Maybe she’s an avid writer? What books does she read aside from Anne Rice and Dracula?

-How come at the end of the first book, the WHOLE town wears gothic clothing in support of Alexander, but hate Raven for her gothic style? It makes NO sense to me.

-I want the books to dive into Matt’s character more.

-Are there ANY poc in dullsville? The cast all seem very white and maybe there are POC characters I don’t know about but still. I remember picturing Heather as a Chinese girl for this exact reason (so the cast could have SOME diversity lol)

-How come the first book made Dullsville to be a boring town filled with mostly middle class and a few rich people, but the later books make dullsville seem like a mostly rich preppy town?

-Is there ever a reason as to why Ravens parents stop being fully hippie? Why couldn’t they have been like aunt Libby, dressing corporate for jobs and wearing what they want outside of it? Or at least have hippie music taste and laidback personalities. I swear their hippie selves and their preppy selves don’t even seem like the same people at all and the difference is really jarring.

-The entirety of the second book aside from 2-3 chapters should have taken place in Hipsterville.

-Alexander being a vampire should have been revealed slightly earlier.

-I feel like aside from Raven and Alexander some of the other main characters were very surface level and I wanted to know more about their lives.

-Book 1 was arguably the most messy but I still prefer it over book 4 because at least it’s not boring.

-Book 2 was great only because of hipsterville.

-Book 3 was, um, there. I like the (proper) introduction of Luna and without her I may find this book even worse that book 4.

-Book 4 was not good compared to the others. I’m sorry.

-So far from the first half book 5 is my fave book in the series. This is what I WANT in a vampire book! A cool setting, cool characters, action, proper stakes (pun intended lol), and interesting dialogue and plots.

-I feel like sometimes these books are too surface level and yet too dramatic (for the level of story it is trying to portray) at the same time.

-WHAT was up with that prank Raven played in book 1 to Trevor, arguably one of the cringiest things of the series thus far.

-I want a spinoff series (or book) about Scarlet and Onyx SO badly.

-Jagger is simultaneously a fierce and weak character/fighter and it makes no sense to me.

-WHAT will happen if vampires walk in the sun? It’s never revealed whether they will die or simply get severe sunburns. Also can’t they pull a vampire diaries and make daylight rings? It should be that hard.

-Olivia Outcast seems based on Emily The Strange.

-I always pictured hipsterville as a somewhat medium sized city but with a few skyscrapers (think Chicago or Boston) but it being revealed as a small town was so weird.

-I am CHEATING and adding a book 10 thought (will delete this paragraph and add to part two when I’ve finished rereading the series) but I feel like Raven becoming a vampire is a cop out. I feel like a cooler ending would have been Raven and Alexander discovering the cure for vampirism and Alexander drinking (or injecting?) it, and Raven and Alexander become humans and go to the same college together and live out their lives together. The very final scene could be them walking out into the sun together on a field (or their backyard at their new house they bought together) and saying I love you and kissing, finally happy that they can see each other 24/7.

Yet again, I probably forgot some stuff but this is everything at the top of my head! Aside from the last point, this is only the FIRST HALF of the books.

[clambrulee]

GRANDPA NO

This makes everything so much worse fuck. She already felt like she owed her life to him. She probably would have ended up carrying out the research anyway out of guilt and a sense of obligation to pay him back for putting everything aside to raise her. But then he has to go and beg her in his will like this and that’s not helping the trauma my dude. She’s never going to forgive herself if she doesn’t fulfill your dying wish and she’s definitely going to blame herself for the suicide because maybe if grandpa had never rescued her he would have been able to focus on his research more and actually be successful ( doubtful but that’s how Miyo as a survivor will frame it in her mind ). I’m glad that this wasn’t kept in the anime/manga ( or if it is in the manga I don’t remember cause I don’t touch matsuribayashi volume 1 + 2 ) because damn. This makes everything worse lmao. I always wanted to believe that Dr. Takano would have wanted Miyo to be happy and not worry about his legacy because he genuinely grew to love her as his granddaughter, since he’s a lonely old man with no living relatives. They both have no relatives. They’re kind of set up to need each other. And I think he did genuinely love her but this is still fucked up. I thought the whole becoming a god thing was just something silly he told Miyo that she took way too seriously which inadvertently added to her obsessive need to pay him back for her life. And also “I was never appreciated by anyone” makes it sound kind of like Miyo’s love and appreciation don’t count and come second to being recognized by the world? Sure you’ve lost things but you can’t say you never gained anything from her companionship. That would be a straight up lie. This child stayed up late helping you with your research because she was scared that if she left your side for one instant you’d disappear just like her parents. Sure that’s not super healthy behavior cause the girl needs therapy but you should know that she loves you and that isn’t something to be shoved under the rug just because everything else turned out shitty. Maybe that line was a translation thing but it could definitely be worded better. I’m probably reading too much into it and grandpa just wants her to be successful unlike him so that she’ll lead a happier life but the way some of these paragraphs are phrased rubs me the wrong way. I’m glad this kind of got retconned in Sotsu because this is too much and feels extremely out of character with the way his character’s written unless he’s just written differently in the vn ☠️ I still need to reread matsuribayashi.

[mercerislandbooks]

With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei: A Conversation with Justina Chen

Island Books is delighted to host our longtime friend and author, Justina Chen, for the release of her brand-new middle grade novel, With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei, on Tuesday, May 7th at 6:30pm. Not only is this inspirational and heartfelt book set in Seattle, but it's also filled with characters that bring home the issues of our times.

I loved this book from start to finish. Dessie Mei has always known she's adopted from China. When her family has to move to Seattle to help a grandparent with memory issues transition into assisted living, she is uprooted in the middle of the school year to a new school. Hopeful that making a new friend in 6th grade won't be too hard, imagine Dessie Mei's surprise when she walks into her first classroom and finds a girl who looks EXACTLY like her. Donna is also adopted, and the two form an immediate bond. They look so much alike that they can't help but wonder... are they twins?

With that intriguing start I was completely hooked, and I’m so glad Justina Chen was able to take the time to sit down with me and talk about her wonderful new book!

Lori: Welcome Justina! I absolutely loved With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei. Can you tell us about the inspiration for your book?

Justina: My beloved Mama—who we lost a few months ago—was such a beautiful force of community. I saw that in the way she embraced my two stepdaughters who were adopted from China into a white family. She scooped them to her heart. So when one of my dear friends told me in close conversation that she and her daughter—both adopted, one from Korea, the other from China—had never felt welcome in the Asian American community, well, that was a dagger in my heart. With the rise of anti-Asian violence, the need to write this story became urgent. We’ve become so good at calling people out at a time when we must be exceptional at calling people into community. That’s the heart of this book. I hope that every reader who picks up With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei knows with utter conviction at the Mama-level that: YOU BELONG.

L: I love that, “calling people into community.” I really saw that as I read. You are delving into quite a few challenging topics. What was the hardest part to write?

J: I knew I was handling the most sensitive material in my entire writing career: adoption and adoptees. So I listened intently to the people I love most in the world who are adopted. I found a counselor who’s adopted and who works with a number of adolescent adoptees. She gave me an incredible reading list, and from there, I dove into abandonment and belonging, complex PTSD and attachment theory, identity-formation and community-building. It was important to me that adoptees were represented in my entire team: my agenting team to my editorial team, including my authenticity reader.

L: As a reader, it was so rich to see the contrast between Dessie Mei and Donna’s adoptions, in a way that made clear everyone has a unique experience; there’s no one “right” way. So, what was the easiest part to write?

J: The story itself came to me in a flash: I knew the emotional throughline. I heard the characters and I saw the plot so clearly, I wrote the first draft in an eight-day fever dream. Aside from North of Beautiful, words have never poured out of me that fast. So fast, my fingers could barely keep up with the paragraphs that were falling out of me fully formed. Of course, the second draft took a good year to write. In that draft, I had to make sure that every word was nuanced, every sentence finessed, every idea stood on solid research. L: The care you took with your polishing really shows. I loved that you said in your author’s note that this was the book you wrote for your 10-year old self — I've read your YA and wonder if you could talk about the difference in voice between writing YA and writing Middle Grade?

J: Such a good question! In my mind, the YA voice can be snarky, but the MG voice is sassy. There is a delightful indomitability in that middle grade voice that I relish—and as a grown woman who is still growing, I strive to recapture and live that middle grade spirit. L: That is a good distinction! I can see that in Dessie Mei: she really has a willingness to try to find a way, no matter the circumstances. The title of your book is so distinct, can you share how you came to it and the meaning of "with twice the love"?

J: It took forever and a day to come up with the title, and that phrase represents so much. The long-lost twins. The love of all their different families. The expansiveness of love itself. And of course, for Dessie, it is the perfect sign-off to an important and brave open letter she writes.

Thank you so much Justina!

Join us on Tuesday May 7th at 6:30pm to see Justina Chen in conversation with Shari Leid and celebrate the publication of With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei!

— Lori