#if i just acted colder i wouldnt have this issue

[angelicstalker]

GOD I CANT HELP MYSELF

[azlovesem]

Having things the way you like them isnt wrong at all. And how would i know anyway. Im never ignoring you anymore and i dont wish i could. I knew there was a reason i used to but the actually the old me was colder. People often get jealoys of Archsngels. Regilar type average people wanna believevthis universevis what they see so they can be right. I can dump any one of dm in a ditch bar none because i know thats the case even for sn Arch as smart as me. I didnt see you coming and effecting me at all. I knew someone might eventually do that. Ahhh not so luch thpugh now shes awesome. At the time the people she was with. They we re lively they are all getn surgery wanna be young forever. How could you wanna look at your old pics if you dont rven look like you anymore? They might fool your average fool but never your King Archangel. I dont kniwcwhat else yo write but i fo love you! Whondoesnt though. Ha ha ha. You have the same little issues i fo maybe but i font see why. Maybe you have it really good you just cant see that. I think maybe you think your problems arecworse than they are. You can only be you if youre a littld too this or that i likely wouldnt notice because of how great you are in other ways im sure. No ones perfect youre right there but a lot of people font act like thrte is any problem eith thrm or the world. Youre snarter thsn that and it shows. But uiure cuter thsn anybof tjem too too me i dont know any other story to write there. Youre PRETTY fuckn wonderful. And probably having fun right now. If not ho do that you have the means! My entire army loves you, we know better than anyone. You should be glowing from the i side out knowing fuck anyone else i aint talkn to anyone else. You get special power when you impress death. Including Long Life. You font wanna die yet do you? Then forget depression its easy. Forget people theyre easy, too easy. Keep doing what you do it not easy. Ill see you on the flip side. Keeping busy is a greatvwsy to fightbthos shit. Otherwise you fixate on it. I am going on vacation wine vou try up. No talk of politics or shit its sugust im already hot. But i like the hest and handle it well. Ive set up a wine field gor days in the sun begire. Now the the little einery is flourishing.

[angelicmichael]

Imminient Annihilation sounds so dope - Chapter Ten

Michael Langdon X Reader

Summary: Reader and Michael continue to work through their issues and finally start to warm up to each other even further. 

Words: 5.9k+ …oops

Warnings: just normal IA warnings (swear words, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, enemies to lovers, slowburn, etc) anddd maybeee a bit of fluff 👁

A/N: hey guys! Sorry I haven’t updated this in a few months but hopefully this is satisfactory hehe. This chapter is kinda a turning point in the fic so I hope u guys like it!! Also I watched Jennifer’s Body as I finished this so.. do what u must w that information 😌 djdjd

Previous Chapter

Rain was never something you were accustomed too. Spending so much time in Los Angeles had made you partially spoiled when it came to the weather - which is why you knew immediately your day was going to be shit when you woke up to rain.

You tried to convince yourself that the emotions you were feeling weren’t complete disdain but rather just a pessimistic version of indifference.. or that’s what you hoped anyway.

You knew realistically that your day wasn’t already doomed before it even started; and that the rain was nothing more than a mere inconvenience.. However; you still felt justified in complaining, considering today was the day you were ripping the band-aide off and moving in to the apartment Michael had oh so graciously chosen to give you.

Your pessimistic mood surrounding the entire situation was inevitable, and that was something you didn’t even bother to resist or fight. It didn’t take long for your thoughts to quickly go south as you quickly packed. Hatred that seemingly came out of nowhere (but that you realistically knew was only temporarily dormant) wasted no time in blinding your judgement - making you feel a nearly nauseating amount of jealousy and anger for people who actually seemed to be fucking happy in their relationships and werent forced into.. whatever shitty living situation you knew you were bound to find yourself in.

An apartment with no strings attached was way too fucking simple, and you knew it was too good to be true. You knew you were basically walking into a trap, and for what reason were you doing that so willingly? Just so that maybe Michael could start to tolerate you? You resented yourself for even agreeing to this but you also understood you really had no other option.

However; personal feelings aside.. you still had a mission to accomplish. You still had to attempt to seduce Michael, and even though you were doing a shit job at that so far - you still had to try. You knew realistically it was only a matter of time before Cordelia would ask about the progress you've made, and you would have to tell her something.

You had to do this.

That's why you were (semi) blindly choosing to move in to a building you knew you absoluetly couldnt afford; and why you were sucking up your pride and choosing to become semi reliant on Michael.

No one from the coven knew, and for the time being you intended to keep it that way. After all, even though Mallory didnt exactly know that Michael gave you a whole ass fucking apartment - your sure she probably suspected that something important happened between you and Michael just from the short conversation you three harbored together. But for the time being, you didnt have to worry about that. You had bigger things that were on your mind.. like the actual apartment door itself that you currently stood in front of.

You held the keys limply in your hand, your bag slumped next to you as you procrastinated something as fucking simple as opening a door. How pathetic.

You continued to stall in the hallway regardless - thankful there was no one passing through to witness how ridiculous you looked. Your gaze fell south down to your keys which were cold in your hand. Dripping slowly with the subtle rainwater that managed to linger on them, along with the rest of your clothes.

Your skin stung from the cold that seemed stubborn to leave, and a nice change of clothes and a hot shower wouldnt be the absolute worst thing in the world..

Fuck.

You bit your lip in order to prevent letting the profanity from rolling off your tongue. Quickly getting a better grip on the keys (which only made you somehow colder) and numbly, hastily unlocking the door.

You pushed it open, letting the door hit the wall and taking a few steps inside before dropping your bag to the floor.. as well as your jaw.

No words could possibly convey how you felt as you noticed how the room was already illuminated with not only natural light from the already huge windows you could see.. but also with a warm, yellow artificial glow.

Was someone already here?

What the fuck?

The hatred and resentment you previously felt toward others earlier rapidly started to return - except this time it was targeted at one very specific person.

It didnt even register in your mind that the light could've been left on by accident or that people besides Michael actually existed that could be present in the room but.. you didnt care. Anger was the only emotion that was solely present in your body as you fully abandoned your bag by the door. Advancing forward; and only feeling more shock and disbelief with every step you took at the thought that he could very possibly be in (what was supposed to be) your space.

"Michael, I swear to God-"

"Y/n?” said a soft, feminine voice.

It was practically automatic how you froze. Just getting close enough to notice that it wasn’t Michael after all that was on your bed in your new studio apartment, but a woman sat on your bed instead.

For about two seconds, you were scared it was Madison but.. that was a stupid assumption within itself. The company you were with was from a far different nature than of which Madison was, even though at first glance the two woman might look or sound similar. There were so many qualities that distinguished Mallory from Madison. Brown, auburn hair.. dark eyeshadow.. and her classic black boots. It didn’t take long for your anger to fade away as you tried to not think about how logically this still didn’t make sense - walking closer to your bed anyway.

"How did you get in here? And since when did you ever break into peoples rooms?" You asked with a laugh.

Mallory echoed your laugh back, seemingly watching you and your behavior. As if she was expecting you to do something or to act a certain way.. like perhaps leave.

"I didnt break into your apartment but.. you should probably sit down." She spoke, before nodding off to her side. Nonverbally suggesting you to sit next to her.

You did as you were told. Noticing briefly before you sat down how nice the apartment actually was.. including the bed.

The walls, and most of everything in the apartment was a solid black. It looked sleek, and even though black paint made most rooms look small - the natural light helped keep things looking open which you appreciated. It was no surprise that the bed matched the dark theme too. The sheets were silky, black satin. You almost laughed at how comfortable the bed was once you sat next to Mallory, the entire situation was so ridiculous it nearly hurt for you to not laugh out loud. The two of you sat in the silence for a moment.. you were each incredibly anxious, that was more than apparent.

You looked up at Mallory, expecting her to speak first and explain herself since after all.. shes the one who broke into your apartment but she still remained quiet.. Stalling, you could only guess.

"So, why are you here? How did you even get in here? Is everything okay?" You asked, your words speedy and rushed.

Panic started to temporarily set in when you realized that something could be serisouly wrong with the coven, even though you knew how completly irrational it was to think that way with no evidence. What if witch hunters found them? What if someone preformed the seven wonders and it went wrong? What if the plan had suddenly changed with Michael?

Mallory seemed to pick on how anxious you suddenly were, putting a hand on your upper arm before making you meet her gaze. Her soft, hazel brown eyes immeadietly making your breathe slow. That was another reason you were so thankful for Mallory - the soothing, calming effect she seemed to have on everyone she met was something you never took for granted.. Espically now.

"Hey, nothing's wrong and nothing happened. I promise. I just wanted to see you and talk to you, and I figured we should catch up after Michael basically made me leave," Mallory explained.

You quickly nodded. Feeling guilt start to creep into your system once you remembered how Michael previously treated her.

"Yeah, youre right. I've been wanting to see you anyway and I'm sorry I didnt just call you last night or something.. and I know I cant control him but I'm still sorry for how Michael treated you. I shouldn't have brought you into that-"

"(Y/n), stop," Mallory said urgently. Shaking her head slightly in disagreement with your words. "Sure, Michael was acting like a dick but.. it's nothing I'm not exactly accustomed too. It was harmless," she ended her words with a smile. One that was meant to comfort you both at the epiphany her words brought.

You sat with her words for a moment. The realization suddenly hitting you like a truck-

"Wait.. what? Do you know Michael?"

Mallory fell completely silent. Looking at you almost in a.. guilty manner. Her gaze fell downwards before she looked up to meet yours once more, licking her lips anxiously before she uttered out a quiet reply.

"I wasnt going to tell you because I knew it would make you upset but.. Michael called me last night-"

"And you answered?" Your voice raised up a few octaves unwillingly. Threatening to break as you tried to process what you were hearing.

As much as you wanted to immeadietly jump to conclusions, you had to remind yourself that this was Mallory you were talking too. Your best friend, Mallory. You knew she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

You noticed Mallory was also starting to get tense. Her spine suddenly a bit too straight and her shoulders were rigid. It was nice to know you werent the only person in this situation who was feeling this way, although you would be lying if you were to say that you werent curious for why Mallory felt tense.

"At first, no but he kept calling so I figured it would cause no harm to see what he wanted so, I answered," Mallory said cautiously.

It was obvious she had more to say and as much as you wanted her to keep talking and fully explain herself - you were more than happy that you didnt have to cut her off again. It was too much. This was too much.

You pinched the bridge of your nose before loudly exhaling with a shallow growl. Not really caring that it probably was coming off like you were mad at Mallory when in reality, that wasn’t the case. Mallory wasn’t the problem; you were really just beyond fucking pissed at Michael.

But at this point.. that wasnt new news.

"I told him that we shouldnt be talking, but he insisted," Mallory continued with a shrug.

You tried to sit up straight again; trying to exhale some of the pure fucking anger that was currently coursing through your system. Your vision was spotted black when you opened your eyes - your gaze pointed upwards at the smooth, blank ceiling. Quickly wishing that you were anywhere else, or really anyone else at the moment.

What you wouldnt kill to swap bodies again.. but then again, who knows what the hell Michael was currently doing at the moment.. He couldnt be trusted.

That was more than obvious now.

You should've known that he would contact Mallory, but how he even got her number was beyond you.. Unless-

"How did he even get your number?" You asked. Your tone strikingly calm.

Mallory looked incredibly spooked when your head suddenly snapped over to look at her. As if she was worried you were angry at her still, and as much as you wanted to reassure her otherwise, you really didnt have the energy to do so anymore. Not at the moment anyway.

"You can't be mad when I tell you the answer, okay?" She said softly.

Your features immeadietly softened at her words. The rest of your body relaxed as well; your shoulders dropping and your jaw unclenching.

"Mallory, I could never be mad at you. You could never piss me off, i'm just.. frustrated at Michael. It's not at you, I swear," you said. Trying your best to make your words sound reassuring and genuine.

Mallorys reaction wasnt one that was verbal but immeadite nonetheless. Her arms suddenly shot out and wrapped themselves around you. Her body temporarily pressing into yours as your hands went to her back, before she quickly broke the hug.

"Promise?" Mallory prompted. Brown eyes looking diligently into yours.

"Yeah.. I promise. Just tell me what that idiot did,” you said halfheartedly.

"So.. I've had his number for a while. Not for too long but just since you two switched. But, we never really talked," Her voice stalled as she watched your reaction. Your mouth grew dry as you really tried to let it sink in that they've known eachother since- well for atleast a week. "But I knew immeadietly that it wasnt you.. that day. I'm sorry I lied, but Michael made me promise."

"Why didnt you just tell me?"

Mallory looked at you in a guilty manner. Her lips pursing shut as she looked solemnly at her shoes, avoiding eye contact. You knew exactly why she was being quiet - she didnt want to admit why she had lied but.. the answer was pretty obvious.

Even though Mallory was one of the strongest witches - almost stronger than Cordelia on some days, she still was scared of Michael and that was nothing worth holding a grudge over. After all he was still the antichrist, no matter how (mostly) harmless and idiotic he seemed to you now.

"Okay.. I guess that doesnt really matter," you admitted with a laugh. Figeting with your hands as you heard a shallow laugh omit also from Mallory, which made you smile. The shallow pit that resided in your stomach finally starting to let up. "But.. What did he call you about last night?"

Mallory hesitated again before giving you another subtle smile.

"It was mostly about you.. I know how you feel about him y/n, but its working. I promise you. Hes finally warming up to you. I just wish you could hear how he talks about you,” she spoke. Taking your hands into her soft, warm ones.

"I wish I believed that," You admitted.

"I wouldnt lie to you. Hes finally starting to warm up to you, plus it was obvious yesterday-"

"Yeah; It was obvious how strong he was coming onto you."

Mallory laughed again at your words. Shaking her head slightly in protest.

“Y/n you know that’s not true. The only reason why he was flirting with me was just to get to you.. I thought that was obvious.”

“It was obvious I just.. didn’t know that you knew that. I mean, Michael has Madison.. or he did so you think that would at least satisfy his flirting needs for a bit but.. Michael faking to be interested in you, that would mean he wanted a reaction out of me on purpose? Why would he-“

“You know why. You need to start cutting yourself slack and realize that maybee this rivalry is starting to be one sided.”

You pouted at her words at the realization that they actually held more truth in them than you were willing to admit. If Michael didn’t hate you anymore, if he was truly actually willing to be civil.. then why were you still so upset? Were you the one who was unintentionally causing problems now? Was it now you instead of Michael that was holding the relationship back?

How fucking stupid.

“I can’t trust him, Mallory. How can I when he and Madison literally tried to kill me. I can never forget that they did that to me.”

“I’m not asking you to forget what he did, y/n. I’m just saying that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start having an open mind around him, and see where it gets you.”

You were struck silent, knowing that Mallory was completely right. If you wanted to have any hope at all of making things right with Michael (even though you really didn’t do anything wrong..) you would have to try a different approach because obviously; what you were doing now wasn’t working. Being snarky, and vaguely threatening him every chance you got was fun of course but- it wasn’t working. Even though Mallory was probably the sweetest person you knew, the fact your own best friend had to (very politely) make a intervention was.. not a good sign. Although, you knew Mallory was doing this for your best interest because if she didn’t say anything, then Cordelia certainly would.

And sadly, Mallory was actually right.

If you wanted things with Michael to advance any further; or to advance at all you needed to step things up but, you could always worry about that after Mallory left.

“So what, are you guys besties now or something?” You sneered.

“Shut up!” Mallory said with a laugh, playfully pushing you over a bit. “He’s barely even my acquaintance. The only reason he’s being nice to me is just to get to you, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I mean that’s the goal-“

“Do you think that’s the only reason?” You interrupted.

Your throat automatically tightened after you spoke, the threat of your words potentially being true coaxing you to silence. Your not sure why the thought of Michael using you made you upset.. it’s not as if you didn’t think he was doing it before but this time it was different. Perhaps it was because you finally thought Michael actually had some type of interest in you.. and to have that suddenly ripped away?

That would leave you beyond broken.. you knew that for certain.

Mallory looked at you solemnly, as if she was already resenting her words before she had to say them outloud.

“Look, I don’t exactly know Michaels intentions and I’m not going to pretend too.. I don’t really think anyone does at this point but I do know that regardless of your feelings, or even his feelings that.. you have to try.”

You let out a loud exhale.

“I mean you said it yourself.. Michaels so unpredictable, there’s no point in guessing how he feels so.. maybe I should just.. ask him?”

Realistically you didn’t know how good of a idea that was- but.. trying to remain realistic was something you gave up on days ago. Pretty much the same day you switched and that definitely wasn’t a coincidence by any means.

As soon as Mallorys mouth opened, you heard three loud knocks. Quick and rapid with no hesitation between them. The apartment nearly shook with the force of whoever happened to be at your door, and you certainly didn’t doubt that your neighbors heard the knocking as well.

Mallory looked at you in utter confusion, but stayed on the bed nonetheless with no sign of getting up. Naturally, you found yourself scooting closer to the end of the bed, knowing it was you who was going to have to get the door.. and that made you scared shitless. Not because you were necessarily scared to open the door but because you had a horribly bad feeling on who was on the other side.. There was only one person that you knew of that was aware of where you lived, and you knew it wasn’t matience or staff.

You knew standing up was the logical thing to do but you still stalled. Hands starting to painfully dig into the soft, expensive sheets that lie underneath you. You mouthed a silent, ‘what the fuck?’ to Mallory but your head snapped back at the door..

Three more knocks which were only louder and more persistent than the last.

“Coming!” You quickly called out.

It was pure anxiety that fueled your next actions. You quickly stood up from the bed, trying to walk hurriedly to the door as fast as you could and trying your damn best not to think.. Hoping Mallory also had a idea of who was at the door and also happened to get the fuck out of view.

You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday happening again today, and you knew you wouldn’t hesitate to slap Michael if he tried to flirt with her again. Even though, you knew you weren’t supposed to act like that anymore.. but why should you have manners if Michael refused them as well?

Opening the door swiftly and without a second thought; you stood breathless as you saw a familiar blonde standing in front of you.

You both stared at each other at first - each not daring to have the balls to say ‘hello’ or anything else for that matter.. You noticed how Michael first eyed you up, fully looking up and down your body (as well as peering behind you, hopefully not making eye contact with Mallory). You made a point to just look into Michaels eyes, refusing to do what he was doing.. whatever the fuck that truly was.

“How did you know I would be here?” You breathed.

“I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d come, but it also never hurt to charm the hotel staff a bit,” Michael responded swiftly without a second beat, almost as if he anticipated your words. His lips upturned slightly at the edges, in a way that nearly made your stomach sick.

“The hotel staff-?!”

“I have connections everywhere y/n, I thought you knew that,” he sneered.

He brushed past you as you continued to stand in shock. Your mouth slightly falling open as Michael took a few steps into your apartment - looking curiously around, almost as if he knew Mallory was here..

“I did.. I think that’s obvious,” you shot back hurriedly. “But thank you for the apartment again, Michael. I still feel weird taking it but it is nice I’ll admit,” you continued. Hoping to make him turn around to look back at you and hopefully not find Mallory.. Which worked. At least for a few seconds at least.

Michael made direct eye contact with you for a moment, almost as if he wanted to speak but was deliberately choosing not too. Instead he turned around, walking in deeper in the apartment.

Your mouth immediately dropped open - your feet carried yourself forward as you started to feel a bit numb with shock- not knowing even in the slightest how you were going to handle the situation if Mallory didn’t fucking move.

Sure enough..

“You always manage to linger.. don’t you?” Michael spoke.

It took only a couple steps for you to fully realize he wasn’t speaking to you. You only saw his backside as you approached them. Quickly meeting Mallorys gaze as you came into view.. Her brown eyes darker than ever as she peered up at you.

This time it is nearly impossible to distinguish whether she looked in agony from Michaels appearance or yours; since you apparently interrupted them. Her gaze quickly returned back to meet Michaels before you could think anything of it.

“I’m not here to see you, Michael.” Mallory announced. Her tone harsher than what you were expecting what apparent friends would use.. Were they even really friends?

Mallory suddenly stood up while Michael was still standing a few feet in front of her. Making eye contact with Michael for a split second before almost ducking around him before she stood in front of you.. leaving Michael speechless behind her. She quickly hugged you, her arms only embracing you for a split second before leaving. It was obvious she was in a hurry to leave now but.. you weren’t sure exactly why.

“I should get going, you and Michael have a lot to talk about,” she subtly smiled before turning to leave.. not letting you reply or have any sort of reaction to her words.

You stood solemnly as you heard Mallory’s footsteps gradually go farther away, before hearing the door open and close. You watched Michaels back as he refused to turn around.

“How was your nice chat with Mallory?”

“Why are you asking? Am I not allowed to see her or something?” You bit back. Your words possibly twice as venomous as his were.

Michael hastily turned around, looking at you with utter disbelief. His blue eyes looking into yours, as if he was suddenly surprised by your tone and how you were acting - as if his behavior didn’t proceeded yours.

“You need to relax,” he snapped. He approached you until he was right in front of you. “I wasn’t asking because I’m trying to control you, I know that’s what your thinking,” His words fell soft until they were nearly inaudible. “I just wanted to ask what she talked to you about.”

“About us?” You prompted.

“Well what else would she be talking to you about,” he snickered. His words spoken as more of a statement than a question. His laughter quickly dwindled off after he saw how rigid your frame suddenly looked. “Kidding. For the most part.. she said she was going to talk to you, and I figured I should actually speak to you this time rather than her.”

“Are you.. actually trying to trust me, Michael Langdon?” You teased. A smile, as well as laughter escaped from your lips at the mere thought.

Even though the thought was amusing on its own, you still didn’t completely trust him. Even now when he had Mallorys trust (for the most part), you still didn’t doubt that he had a ulterior motive.

Michael finally stepped back, hesitantly breaking eye contact before inaudibly beckoning you to follow him.

“I’m trying, just like how I told you I would,” He hauntingly reminded you.

You followed him silently to the long leather couch that sat by the overly expansive windows. Sitting down next to him in a way that felt almost too casual.. but being casual around Michael and not borderline fearing for your life was something you would have to adjust too.

You noticed how he instantly slipped his shoes off; drawing up his feet on the couch.. his arms and as well the rest of him contained. Away from you.

“So if your trying.. now,” you suggested uncertainly. “Then.. tell me why you came here to talk suddenly again? I mean why not just go through Mallory again like you’ve doing previously?”

“(Y/n), please. Take me seriously and just trust me for once,” His words came out quick and stern as he spoke them. “I was being serious yesterday, as well as all the other times when I told you I wanted to start.. putting effort in and trying.”

You stared at Michael utterly dumbfounded.. Feeling a bit hopeless that you actually felt almost.. touched by his words. That’s if he was actually being serious, anyway.

“What does trying mean to you?” You asked carefully. Your mind naturally went back to Madison.. were they even broken up yet? Was that even something that Michael was willing to do for you, and how was that something you could just ask? “What about-“

“Madison’s fine. She’s fine.. with everything,” he replied hesitantly.

You simply ignored the fact that he seemed to pick up what you were talking about almost immeadietly.. focusing on rather the latter part of the sentence.. that she was okay with everything?

“So she knows? That you’re here?”

“Yeah. She knows but that’s besides the point. Madison isn’t a part of the equation anymore, I don’t want to talk about her,” He spoke as if his words were final and not to be argued with, but his tone wasn’t angry. He was just done.. and you were too.

You wish that wasn’t the case though. Cutting Madison off didn’t sit right with you in the slightest, and it would definitely have to be something that would have to be mended later. That was a given.

Madison and Michaels relationship was far too close for them to suddenly split and remain like that forever - it was temporary, but so is everything really. That shouldn’t phase you but - it still managed too.

“Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ you started.

“It’s fine. I knew you would ask.. She’s the reason why I’m here actually,” His eyes broke contact and averted down to his hands. “I don’t mean that as in I’m not here to see you but, it was something she said that brought me here.” He continued, his voice almost growing soft now at just the mention of his ex girlfriend.. and now, you felt like you actually were starting to understand his point of view. Not fully but, it was clear that Michael was trying to be more open with you, and this time he wasn’t ‘fake’ drunk.

It took nearly everything in you to not immeadietly retort but just like the night where you were at the party; you tried to fully hear him out since this was apparently one of the few times he was being civil.

“So Madison gave you advice and you actually took it?” You said while laughing softly. Trying to lighten the mood since Michael seemed to be brooding.

Michael didn’t laugh back but instead his gaze flickered up to meet yours for a moment. The corners of his mouth upturning in a shallow smile that only lasted for a few seconds.

“I did because it made sense.” He said, his tone still remaining serious. You noticed how careful he was being with his words.. something that was typical for Michael to do but this time it seemed a bit too deliberate. You wanted to ask what exactly Madison even told him to do but.. that felt wrong. “It was also the right thing to do.. Being close to you is something I should’ve done a while ago, probably immeadietly-“

“But what’s in the past; stays in the past. And since your so adamant about being close to me.. we can always try now,” you cut in.

Michael continued to sit a good distance away from you; you thought it was ironic how he could talk about wanting to get close with you but wouldn’t dare to move any closer. That thought made your pride a little bit too happy.

Right before he could open his mouth to say something; his phone rang. The sound suddenly earsplitting and blaring but Michael didn’t bother to flinch. Instead he stood up and answered his phone.. making sure to nearly trek across the apartment before he said anything into the phone.

You stretched and casually examined him as he talked, you had a feeling who it was on the line..

After how tense things were with Mallory - you knew they probably weren’t going to be on friendly terms anytime soon.. especially in front of you. And judging by how.. oddly relaxed he seemed (yet timid when he caught your gaze and realized you were staring), it had to be one person.

You were about to sink back into the couch and try your best to not speculate what they were talking about, but before you could fully turn - you realized Michael was sauntering towards you.. clearly still on the phone.

Oh fuck.

Before you could ask what was wrong, the look he gave you alone ushered you to silence.

He quickly held the phone away from his ear. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that the call was still active.

“You said you forgive Madison.. right?” He spoke lowly. His words barely audible, more so mouthing the words than actually speaking them.

You looked at him with a expression you’re sure looked as if you were furious but you were really just completely confused. You wanted to ask but.. there was no time if she was on the phone, but knowing what you were about to get yourself into would also be nice to know.

His eyes had since lost the sharpness that had nearly cut you earlier, instead swarming with urgency and a bit of panic.. It had to be Madison. The only person that could ever have that effect on Michael was Madison.

You simply nodded in response. Not trusting yourself to speak quietly outloud but you also didn’t exactly trust your response because it wasn’t exactly truthful, but Michael seemed to be level headed.. for now.

Michael immeadietly turned and held the phone back up to his ear, this time staying in closer proximity and within ear shot. Putting on his shoes as he continued to hold the conversation he was having.

“Okay

...

So when are you coming?

...

Great, see you then. . . Bye.”

If you didn’t just hear the words that you thought you had heard.. you knew under normal circumstances your heart would’ve ached when you realized how Michael hesitated before he said goodbye, most likely catching himself before he said ‘I love you’. Instead though, you felt a gruesome wave of nausea suddenly rise through you.. urging you to shakily stand up and speak without thinking.

“She’s coming to see you?”

Michael barely gave you a second glance as he turned around and started to head for the front door of the apartment.

“Yes. You’ll be seeing her too, don’t worry.” He spoke before he quickly let the door shut behind him.

You continued to stand, utterly speechless.

Part of you wanted to run after him and the other part merely wanted to scream in anger that he had already made fucking plans but instead you felt numb. Numb and calm.

You returned to your bag and unpacked, trying your best to not let your emotions consume you like they previously had too many times.. until you finally broke down and called Mallory.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @langdons-pinkyring @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @mindlesschicca

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist!!

[bleepblopbloop56]

i wrote alvin and the chipmunks fanfic and now thats everyone elses problem

tw for like food insecurity 

There was a small pitter of claws against hardwood that was always filling the modest Seville household. The chipmunks had prided themselves on their human characteristics, wearing clothes, shoes, glasses, getting their haircut at normal barber shops and going to normal highschools, even if they had to sit on books and high chairs at restaurants and cafeteria tables. Despite this, they still took advantage of running on four paws whenever they had the chance, and twisted and skittered up surfaces like they did with the thinnest tree branches back in the woods. The railing of the stairway was covered in claw marks from the boys scaling it quickly when chasing each other, or the rare occasion Dave had attempted to bring in a dog or cat to watch for a friend. 

The sound of small footsteps was enough to wake simon. He had always been the lightest sleeper, spending years protecting his brothers in the woods without the advantage of sight had solidified this trait in him even long after the boys had moved into the suburbs and safety of daves house. The small door at the corner of their regular sized bedroom door was swinging lightly, as if someone had just left. Simon shoved on his glasses, sitting up and looking to see which of his brothers was up this time of night. Theadore was out like a light, obviously, his face being illuminated by the alarm clocks electronic lights on the nightstand beside him, his red numbers blinking at 3:00 am in his sleeping form. He turned to his second brother's bed and of course,Alvin's bed was empty, covers thrown to the side and pillow laying across the foot of the bed, as if he'd hastily tossed it out of his way. 

“Ugh, alvin..'' Simon groaned to himself, rubbing the fur in between his eyes in annoyance. Usually he'd leave him to go discover his mess in the morning and leave Dave to ground him for the rest of the week, but considering the door had just clicked closed it might not be too late to spare them both the trouble. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, carefully scampering across the floor on all four paws to avoid waking theodore. He slipped out the door and down the stairs, peeking his head slowly around the corner and into the kitchen. Alvin had crawled into the cabinets, filling his hoodie pockets with food and looking around, paranoid. Alvin had always loved that hoodie, it took going through 4 different fabrics before he found one he liked enough to let Dave sew into a hoodie. It wasn't only the color he was particular about, but the texture. Some of the hoodies before this one made his skin crawl just to touch it. Dave dismissed it as him just being picky, but Simon knew that his brother had always had an issue with textures and fabrics, however little they came in contact with in the wild. The mere act of shoving food into his precious hoodie was enough to make simon suspicious

 Simon ducked behind the wall before he could be caught, slowly peeking his head back when it was safe. Alvin hopped from the cabinets to the counter, then the chair, then back to the floor, running right past Simon and onto the stairs without even noticing his onlooker. 

“Um, alvin?” Simon spoke up, stopping Alvin in his tracks. He flinched hard, fur sticking up like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. “What are you doing” 

Alvin turned slowly to his brother, standing up on his back feet and pinning his ears down nervously. He tried to smile casually and put his hands in his pockets, but that just pushed a sheeseball from his pocket and sent it tumbling down the stairs. He watched it with thinly disguised horror as it rolled away.

“Ohh.. hey si, what are you doing awake”

“I heard you leaving” a tired yawn priced itself out of Simon's mouth, a paw coming up to cover it. Alvin bit back the urge to yawn as well. 

“Oh yeah, just a little midnight snack, nothing to worry about there” Simon did not look convinced. He stared deadpanned at Alvin and he dropped his shoulders. Alvin's eyes met the floor nervously looking for another excuse simon would accept “its nothing, simon, really”

“If it's nothing why wont you tell me”

Alvin took a deep sigh, sitting down on the steps and pulling his knees into his chest. The food crunched a little uncomfortably in his pocket and Simon inwardly sighed at the mess he was making. Alvin twitched his nose a little, trying to hold back a few of the tears that were starting to pick at his eyes. Simon came and sat down on the step beside him.

“It's just…” he started, closing his eyes tight like he was expecting simon to shut him down before he even began “its been getting colder, lately, and i don't know i guess i just” 

“You've been hoarding food” Simon gasped out a little, finishing Alvin's sentence. He nodded roughly, a little scared to open his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged himself tight. “Alvin, you… we don't have to do that anymore, you know we're safe here”

“i , i know that, i do but its just.. Its dumb.”

“Its not”

“I know we're supposed to be like everyone else and we're supposed to be normal kids but.. When I feel it getting colder it's like.. My chest gets tighter? I get.. Antsy? I don't know how to describe it” he ran his claws through his fur, ruffling it and messing the patterning up. “It's like I need to make sure we all have enough food for the winter again.” 

“That's, that's okay Alvin, it's just instincts. Its kinda sweet”

“But it doesn't make any sense!” he tossed his head back angrily, raising his voice slightly but not enough to wake anyone. “I know Dave is here to protect us and feed us but “ a few tears slipped out of his eyes and into his fur, he rubbed them away so Simon couldn't see.

“Hey, hey, whoa” simon awkwardly reached a hand out to alvin's shoulder, and before he could process what was happening alvin had flung himself into his arms, hugging his brother tightly and burying himself into his shoulder, hands curling into simons pajama shirt, then uncurling from the uncomfortable fabric, tucking his paws into his sleeves before hugging him again. Simon never had a problem with it, but Alvin could pick out his favorite hoodie blindfolded. “It's okay, it's alright, do you.. Want me to go get dave?” 

Alvin shook his head violently, sniffing and trying to bite back his tears the best he could. He hated crying, it made him feel like a little kid when he constantly was attempting to be seen as the teen he is. His life constantly fluctuated from being smaller and weaker and more sensitive than the other kids at school, sometimes purely because he wasn't the same species, to being this adult others looked at with awe when he was touring or on stage or at interviews. He didn't know what he was allowed to be and what not. He hated the lights and noise of the stage but they were nothing compared to the fluorescents and just-almost-silence of the classroom. 

“He wouldnt understand,” Alvin mumbled, whipping his own tears into his shoulder as Simon slowly attempted to hug back. He was never great with feelings or comforting, that was Theodore's department, but Theodore was asleep right now and as much as Simon hated to admit it Alvin was right. Dave wouldnt understand because Dave was both human and had never experienced food insecurity before. Simon racked his brain for ways to help, eventually pulling back and holding Alvin by the shoulders as he calmed down.

“I think I have an idea, but for now you need to try and get some rest, okay?” Alvin nodded at him, letting Simon drag him upstairs and into their bedroom as quietly as possible. Alvin shoved the food in his pockets under his bed with the rest of his stash, and Simon bit his tongue about complaining about ants. That was a mess for future simon to deal with, and right now he was too tired to think about it.

In the morning, simon helped Alvin clean out one of his bedside drawers, and they reached an agreement of being able to store packaged food in their for whenever he gets anxious, and had both instructed Theodore about the importance of leaving it alone.

“I-i know what you mean alvin” he had said sheepishly, kicking on his own sneakers as they got ready for school “when we were in the forest i never knew where our next meal would be, so when i had food i just ate it. I never really got out of that I guess” theodore struggled with his laces, anxiously pulling them until they were knotted, then unknotting them to try again.

“I'm surprised this hasn't come up before '' Simon brushed a small barbie doll comb through his hair as he spoke. “Considering we've been out of that particular living situation for some time now” 

“Yeah, well” alvin spoke up, nervously scratching at that spot behind his ear he never could scratch enough “it's embarrassing”

“I don't think so at all” simon reassured, pulling his backpack off the chair and hopping out the door “come on, were gonna be late” 

[girlwiththelightson-god]

so the jail support mutual aid group that i’m a part of has been being antagonized by this cab driver who parks across from where we work. hes not a liscenced cabbie really - my understanding of his “origin story” is that he was a yellow cab guy who has hung out outside the jail for decades occaisionally picking up fares when people are released with money or have family members with cash at the destination. hes been there for so long in many ways its largely social - he has his other cabbie buddy, he rubs elbows with the COs - but he feels very much like its his space. at some point the jail told the yellow cab companies to buzz off, so he just stopped working with a cab company and still sits outside the jail waiting for rides.

since the beginning things were tense - hes a gregarious old school type of dude who can be pretty moody and unhinged. but i always felt deferential to him in a way - he can be a huge help, he can be a funny guy, and it doesnt feel right to gentrify out a cabbie just because we give out free rides. that being said most of the rides we give he wouldnt take anyway - people who cant afford a ride home, who dont have a conventional home to go back to, people who need to collect their seized property from the county -- and on top of that he really just chills in his car most of the time. but for a long time we were like, OK, when we’re at capacity we send some rides his way. No problemo.

Problemo. the things he says start to alienate people. he definitely does not know the agreedupon vernancular when discussing LGBTQ issues. this begins to make people feel unsafe, and he also becomes more moody as the weather gets colder. 

a chicago summer renders the city into a carceral boomtown - kids minding their own business get picked up on bullshit drug charges that get thrown out the next day, legal gun owners get caught in the midst of constantly changing regulations that mean that the way you store your legal firearm today can get you thrown in the pen tomorrow (of course, only if you’re black), everyones out enjoying the weather so if you have a warrant and some cop with a chip on their shoulder sees you, you’re screwed. that being said - in winter, things slow way down. i have no doubt that the economic impact of this seasonal change influences the broader drama of this situation from henceforth.

Back to the problem - soon it feels like him screaming at us that we’re taking his fares, or don’t know what we’re doing, or are giving other cab drivers too many fares, is an every night occurence. People start feeling unsafe - you hear this guy say a couple slurs... and hes loud and angry......but to me i was like. Well you’re white. This is an elderly black man who is pretty much living hand to mouth. I wanted to be in a position where we could provide hims ome material financial support via pay for rides (that, due to our understaffing, we still needed help with) and everything seemed chill. We were sort of telling offended people to check their own privilege and assumptions. Because I don’t have a lot of energy and time for people who criminalize and pathologize black masculinity. 

Regardless our policies and attempts to play ball don’t matter - whatever we do still isnt good enough. Its clear that he views us giving any sort of rides to people as a threat to his livelihood despite, as i’ve said, us only really giving rides that he wouldn’t take anyway, and being as deferential as we can to give rides that seem like a good fit for him - to him -- which also is eating at our financials. And the contingent of people feeling hurt, threatened, burnt out by dealing with him grows.it becomes clear that ignoring this group of people is coming off as callous and silencing voices. there are people whos departure from the organization is clearly linked to this guy bothering us -- and his hassling is getting worse. He starts talking about burning down our tent, slashing our tires, etc.

Maybe coming from a more working class or hick town, being a str8 white boy, i never felt the fear in my dealings with him, just a lot of frustration. But i became one of the few people who can really get in the car with him and talk out how he feels, doing my best to act as a go between from the group to him. I take a lot of verbal abuse and shit talk throughout this but always call him on this. To me the key failure of the young american left is an unability to engage materially with real working class people who do not speak in such flowery language and have not been as understanding of the large-scale social developments that have been undertaken since the obama presidency especially around “microaggressions” and the defied canonization of identity politics from an aspect of Marxism to the underlying dogma of most centrist-to-center left projects. Le sigh! So I tried to fit in where I was effective and act as a filter - sifting out this guys bullshit and calming him down so we can have a good normal talk. Honestly? This begins to wear on me. Im a conforntantion averse person, ask anyone...

We have a referendum on everything and its clear that no one except me and my gf are even open to the idea of still working with this guy. So we (me, some other volunteers) decide to have a sit down chat with him this week. 

Well on Sunday i guess he was walking over to us hollering and talking major shit - normally we can handle this, but this time we actually had people who had been released from jail waiting for a ride as he was coming to talk shit. The people waiting couldn’t bear to hear the way he was yelling at his and start to intervene. He flips out and goes to his car, a beat up classic coupe, and produces some sort of steel pole weapon. He starts pounding on the light post by our tent with it and rushes our tent threatening to kick it down. The situation is deescalated, but holy shit.

So now we’re having a sit down chat with him tonight to figure how what  moving forward looks like. I dont think we’re ever going to work with him again, but he’s also cearly not going anywhere - he’s been at that area for a long time and again, considers himself the don of it - so I simply don’t know what will happen. I’m sick to my stomach thinking about this, how fucked up and weird and sad it all is to have to deal with, when this mutual aid project is otherwise such a beautiful and harmonious thing.

[islareeveswriting]

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Time is a healer.

Molly knew how true that was. Even her bruised, but maybe not completely broken, heart had been healed by a few weeks of nurture. It seemed there was nothing a little time couldn’t wrap its arms around and restore to what it had once been before. It couldn’t erase scars left behind by battles that had gone on for a little to long not to leave a mark, but it did make them fade, and a little easier to hide. After nearly two months, Molly felt like she was back to herself and moving forward. At least emotionally.

Physically, Molly felt like she’d been hit by a convoy of ten tonne trucks. Everything ached, her eyes felt tired, her head felt heavy, and her throat felt like it had made good friends with a parmesan grater. What had started as a bad hangover, had quickly developed into a cold and had continued to get worse from there. Three days had passed since she’d woken up in Harry’s bed, and the headache she’d had that morning was yet to disappear for more than a few paracetamol induced hours.

University had started back up, and after her first lecture of the new semester Molly had a pile of research waiting on her desk for her. However, mustering the energy to actually make some progress on it was a challenge. It was only likely to be added to after her two pm portfolio presentation workshop that afternoon, but still Molly had left the house that morning with her research project as untouched as it had been when she’d thrown the file on her desk two days ago and collapsed on her bed. Again.

It was a typical January day. The light that managed to make it through the thick, virtually black, clouds hardly lit up the streets at all, and it was a wonder they’d bothered to turn the street lights off. The air was bitter, it seemed winter was only getting colder as spring should have approached, and there was an ever present threat of torrential rain. The clouds were dark enough, but they just seemed to be keeping everyone on edge, not sure whether to brave the outside or hold refuge indoors with hot drinks and comforting food.

The cafe Amanda had chosen for their coffee date was virtually empty. Apart from Molly and Amanda, sat in a booth designed for six, there were two other tables being used. The two waitresses were as aware as Molly that they needn’t have both been there, and it was clear they were struggling to even appear busy, let alone actually be busy. Zak was the noisiest part of the cafe, his chattering and giggling cutting over the hushed conversations of everyone else there.

It had taken Amanda less than twelve hours to message Molly after meeting on Sunday morning at brunch, three days later, and they were sat opposite each other in a cafe around the corner from Amanda’s house, as if it was something they’d done a million times before. Molly hadn’t exactly been surprised Amanda had followed through with getting her number from Harry, but by the same token Molly wouldn’t have been surprised if it hadn’t happened either, and she wouldn’t have been offended. Molly was five years Amanda’s junior, and outwardly it appeared they didn’t have a lot in common. However, as Molly got closer to the end of her pot of tea, it was apparent the two of them had a lot more in common than anyone would have imagined.

Apart from the fact, Molly seemed to now be in the same boat Amanda had been in five years ago with Joe after ending a serious relationship, they both had older sisters they considered best friends, had both moved to the city they now called home for university, and had both felt an unfavourable welcome from Katie when they first met. The fact the blonde haired girl had been so cold at brunch had played on Molly’s mind ever since. It was hard to get the feeling that she’d been being judged for something she wasn’t aware of was hard to budge. Despite the fact Harry had been so quick to touch her leg with his knee each time Katie spoke to her like she was keeping score, he’d not mentioned it since. It wasn’t that Molly was necessarily expecting him to, it was just she wanted to know why it felt like daggers were being fired at her for the two hours she’d been sat opposite Katie.

Normally, Molly wouldn’t think anything of it, people could be cold when they didn’t know someone, she understood that, and it was fine. But Molly didn’t get the feeling Katie had been cold purely because she didn’t know Molly. The way she’d rolled her eyes when Harry called her love, had seemed so anxious to hear whether they were together or not, had given Molly the impression she was stepping on toes. Though why she couldn’t figure out.

At first she’d thought she might have asked Harry about it. It was clear from the look he gave her when Amanda had pushed her eggs over the table to Katie, that there were opinions on the blue eyed blonde who looked like she wouldn’t say boo to a goose. However, after their conversation in Harry’s car about Molly's body image issues, and after Harry opened up a little bit about his dad, Katie’s attitude towards her wasn’t exactly the most pressing thing on Mollys mind.

However, when Amanda bought the situation up over coffee, it felt like the universe was giving Molly a free pass to ask her questions and not feel guilty for one of Harry’s friends leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“She’s erm,” Molly hesitated. Free pass or not she didn’t want to appear callous, and she’d always struggled to find a bad word to say about anyone. It felt even harder when what she wanted to say was based purely on a feeling rather than anything Katie had actually done. “Hard?” Molly tried. Amanda scoffed a laugh though and nodded her head.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Amanda supposed, lifting her eyebrows a little. Molly wasn’t sure what to say next, she rolled her lips together and dropped her eyes. It was hard to explain. If Harry hadn’t been sat next to her at brunch, and if Amanda hadn’t been so warm and welcoming, she knew she’d have felt incredibly uncomfortable at that table thanks to the way Katie acted towards her. Little comments, looks, her tone of voice. Molly wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but that didn’t mean it felt any less agreeable to Molly. The thing was Molly didn’t want to look two-faced, or put her foot in something she didn’t see coming. There could be a reasonable explanation for the way Katie had been, Molly knew little to nothing about any of Harry’s friends to be able to be sure either way. Molly was finding it hard to explain it without sounding like she was backstabbing someone she didn’t know from Adam.

“You don’t have to worry Molly, it’s not a secret that me and her don’t exactly get on.” Amanda went on. “When I first started seeing Joe she told anyone who would listen that I’d cheated on my ex multiple times, not true, and that Joe should be careful.” Amanda explained with a shrug. It appeared that, now, Amanda thought nothing of it, but Molly could bet that at the time it hadn’t been so easy to shrug away. “I didn’t even know her name.” Amanda finished, and the sting she’d felt was clear in her voice.

“Wow, that’s extreme.” Molly gaped, eyes widening a little. “Why did she do that?” Molly asked, but Amanda just shrugged, swallowing the sip of coffee she’d taken whilst Molly was taking in what she’d just said, trying, but ultimately, failing to understand it.  

“I don’t really know, but I think it’s a jealousy thing.” Amanda guessed with a slight shrug, cradling the coffee cup in her hands.

“A jealousy thing?” Amanda just nodded. “What’s she jealous of?” Again Amanda shrugged. Molly couldn’t make head or tail of it and it confused her to say the least. Katie was a pretty girl, attractive, she was engaged to a man that seemed like a gentleman, and was good looking, strong, she had a good group of friends. Molly was at a loss for what she had to be jealous of, when Molly walked into the cafe with Harry, riddled with nerves and anxious to be liked by the friends of Harry’s he introduced her to. As far as Molly could see, if anything, it should have been the other way around.

“It’s weird, but she gets kinda territorial over those boys, like no one can be good enough for them apart from her.” Amanda said, but there was something about her voice that made Molly think it wasn’t so much of a guess anymore.

“She’s got Rich!” Molly stressed wide-eyed, her nose crinkling.

“I know.” Amanda confirmed. “That’s why I say it’s weird, but it is honestly like she doesn’t want any other girls in their lives apart from her.” She explained, or at least tried, all though it was clear from Molly’s face that it made absolutely no sense to her.

“The fuck?” Molly questioned. For a minute Molly tried to understand, put herself in Katie’s shoes. She imagined how she’d feel if Jimmy bought a girl home, introduced her to Molly and the rest of their housemates. The idea only filled Molly with excitement. Since she met Jimmy she knew he’d make a great boyfriend for the right person. In no circumstance could she imagine herself being jealous of a girlfriend of Jimmy, maybe if she turned out not be a nice person she might grow to dislike her, but never jealous.

“I mean maybe it’s something else with Harry, I dunno, maybe, I dunno,” Amanda started to trip over her words appearing unsure in a way that Molly doubted came to her very easily considering how confident she came across otherwise. She was quick to paper over it, carry on like she hadn’t saing anything; “part of me wonders as well if she’s worried someone will get down the aisle before her.” Amanda continued, but that only made Molly crease her brow more than she already had done, looking across the table to Amanda. “Her and Rich have been engaged for donkeys, he’s only just agreed to set a date and it’s still a year away.” Amanda explained. Molly rolled her eyes, she only felt more confused than she had done before they’d started the conversation.

“Considering Harry and I are just friends that’s not likely to be an issue is it?” Molly pointed out with a slight eye roll.

“You’re really still pulling that ‘just friends’ thing?” Molly didn’t say anything to answer Amanda’s question. If Molly was honest she didn’t know what they were doing. They seemed to be continuously testing boundaries, but never actually getting through them, maybe both a little scared of what waited on the other side for them. Apparently, Molly’s silence was answer enough for Amanda though. “Are you not bored of that yet?” She pushed, Molly dropping her eyes. “So that’s a yes.” Amanda pointed out, correctly. Molly was bored of it. She was fed up with trying to convince herself Harry didn’t make her feel something, that it wasn’t getting more intense every time she saw something glittering in his eye. And she was fed up of not being sure, but being entirely certain all at once, that she saw Harry doing the same.

“It’s not that I’m bored of it, just, well I didn’t expect to start feeling like this so soon after Ryan.” Molly tried to explain, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get away from the fact that two months after ending a four year relationship felt like too soon to be moving onto something new.

“Surely that tells you how real the feelings are.” Amanda suggested, scotting forward a little and glancing down at Zak who was scooting toy cars along the leather bench distractedly, beside her, seemingly completely oblivious to his mother’s conversation or that she’d even moved.

“You think?” Molly asked narrowing her eyes slightly, clearly unsure.

“Yeah, I know what it's like to come out of a long term relationship and feel like you won’t go there again for a long time to then bump into someone you really like, the fact you weren’t looking for it but found it anyway? That’s a sign.” Amanda told Molly with a reassuring certainty. Despite how sure Amanda sounded, Molly still couldn’t settle it in her own head, not completely at least, and she had to wonder if it was the same thing holding Harry back. Or if it was just that she hadn’t quite managed to teeter over the edge yet, and he didn’t want to be the one to push her. “He is smitten with you, you can tell by the way he looks at you.” Amanda announced, only making Molly blush and drop her eyes to the table in attempt to hide it. “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about this, so he didn’t warn you about Katie?” Amanda asked, taking another sip of her coffee as Molly lifted her gaze again, hoping the flush of her cheeks had died down.

“No, but maybe he’s not noticed it.” Molly mused with a slight shrug of her shoulders, the loose neckline of her jumper falling down for it.  

“Oh he has, she’s like it with every girl.” Amanda pointed out, her words making Molly feel as disposable as the throwaway comment for a few moments. There was a familiar prickle inside her, but one she refused to let grow the way she had in Woodies a few nights ago. It was one thing to feel jealous of a nameless woman, but nameless faceless women, that bore no threat to something, that at that moment was nothing anyway, was completely ridiculous as far as Molly could see.

“Every girl?” She asked, nonetheless, her voice slightly higher than she’d anticipated.

“Well Shane’s ex, me, some girl Niall introduced last year.” Amanda listed, not mentioning Harry’s name once. Molly nodded, wondering if Amanda was holding something back for her benefit, and wishing she wouldn’t.  “Don’t worry, you’re the first girl Harry has ever introduced to us, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Amanda reassured quickly and a strange, unprecedented, feeling of relief washed over Molly.

“I’m not worried.” Molly clucked quickly, too quickly to be believable.

“Uh huh? That’s why you were squirming around like a worm on a fish hook.” Amanda smirked knowingly, one perfectly filled in eyebrow rising slightly. Molly just rolled her eyes and shook her head, not even bothering to hide the slight heat she was feeling under Amanda’s spotlight. “It’s cute, just go with it, what have you got to loose?”

“A bloody good friendship.” Molly pointed out.

“God if I had a pound for everytime someone didn’t go for it because they were scared of losing a friend.” Amanda groaned.  “If you were meant be just friends forever, you wouldn’t fancy the pants off him, and if the friendship is that good it won’t be ruined by a kiss and a cuddle.” Molly sighed and began spinning her mug around in circles on the table, not sure what to say. It was hard to argue with someone who seemed so confident in what they were saying, even if Molly wasn’t entirely sure she agreed. “I’m sorry, I just can’t sit back, having seen how you are with one another and not say anything, it’s ridiculous.” Amanda sighed falling back into the seat.

“Ok, can we talk about something else other than how I apparently fancy the pants of Harry now?” Molly bargained. Amanda just chuckled and nodded. What was, or seemingly wasn’t, happening with Harry, wasn’t something Molly felt ready to discuss with anyone other than the voice in her head. It was hard enough for herself to make sense of her feelings, let alone trying to do so out loud for someone else.

They finished their drinks and chatted for another half an hour. It really didn’t feel like the first time the two of them had socialised together without a mutual friend. Conversation passed easily and the time quickly. When Molly checked her phone, her mug of tea empty, she realised she should really be leaving fairly soon to make it to the campus for her workshop.

“Well then little fella, we best let Molly get going.” Amanda sung, placing her cup on the mug and looking down at Zak, seemingly reading Molly’s mind. The little boy looked up at Zak with doey brown eyes that matched his mother’s exactly, before looking to Molly.

“Where’sa going?” Zak asked with a deeply creased brow, his lips a little pouty, the picture of confusion and slight disappointment.

“I’ve got to go to univers-school.” Molly settled on, guessing Zak wouldn’t have a comprehension of university. It did nothing to help the look on his face though, his eyebrows just lowered further and his bottom lip seemed to stick out more. It was evident Zak had no expectation for Molly to leave without them. “But I’ll see you again real soon.” Molly promised with a smile and a gleam in her voice. “Ok?” She offered. Zak sighed heavily, his little shoulders lifting and falling with discontent at, what seemed to be in Zak’s eyes, and unfavourable compromise.

“Ok.” He grumbled sadly, looking back down at the car in his hand and hitting it against the sofa.

“Are you ok? You don’t look so good.” Amanda pointed out, a glimmer of concern in her voice and over her face.

“Yeah think I’ve got a bit of a cold, nothing to worry about.” Molly smiled, though it felt like a massive effort to do so. Before leaving the house, she’d taken a couple of paracetamol to try and keep her aches at bay, however, through the morning, it had begun to wear off. She felt it in her shoulders first, it felt like she’d slept awkwardly, and then her face started to ache, and finally her head started to feel like it was being shut between a door, over and over again, her temples throbbing. The box of paracetamol was still sat on the kitchen side at home, Molly had anticipated the effects lasting until she got home from her workshop. Clearly, she’d been wrong.

Out on the street, the air still bitterly cold and the clouds still ominously dark, Molly and Amanda said a hasty goodbye, both wanting to get back indoors and out of the weather as quickly as possible. On insistence from Amanda, Zak managed to pull his little hand out from the blanket tucked around him, in his pushchair, to give Molly a wave goodbye. Molly couldn’t blame him, if she had a choice she’d be tucked up with, what looked like, a handmade woollen blanket, rather than cocooned in a puffy, waterproof parka that didn’t do a whole lot for the cold. Even the fur lined hood didn’t keep much warmth in, and she was trying not to shiver as she stood saying goodbye.

With a promise to see each other again soon, they both headed in separate directions, Amanda off to her warm, well heated home, and Molly off to the cold, open, workshop room on campus.  Of course Molly knew where she’d rather be heading, but making a start on her portfolio was important. More important than getting cosy with a cup of tea on her bed, and more important than the sleep her heavy eyes were telling her she needed. Even if the idea alone of pyjamas, tea and her bed made her warmer than the fluffy socks she had on under her boots or the jumper and coat combo she was wearing. It didn’t matter when she had her second year portfolio to get her head around, the first one that really mattered.

No one had ever expected Molly to choose a fashion degree, it had surprised Molly at first as well, but when she really thought about it, it made far more sense than going into teaching the way she’d always planned. As a child she was going to be a teacher, once she got to secondary school that progressed to art teacher, because at least that sat well with her creative nature. It wasn’t until her textiles teacher asked her if she’d considered any design schools for university that the idea of doing anything other than teaching entered her head.

For a long time she’d kept the thought to herself, mulled it over, secretly looked into design courses. Miss Edwards said she was more than capable, and nothing beat the buzz that she got from bringing her designs to life. It wasn’t until she opened up to the idea, that she really realised the thrill she got from men’s fashion and tailoring projects. The excitement far exceeded that of anything she’d done in art, or the idea of standing in front of a classroom filled with rowdy teenagers, the majority of who wouldn’t even want to be in an art class.

It had made her nervous, telling her parents that she’d changed her mind about following in their footsteps and going into teaching, but they’d been supportive as they always had. Just as supportive as when Jeanie told them she didn’t want to continue with education at all, and would rather go off travelling around South East Asia and Australia. It was always a case of whatever was best for them, whatever was going to make their daughters happy, they could get behind. Molly didn’t know why she always got so nervous about telling her parents something somewhat life changing, because the reaction had always been positive. It was Ryan that doubted it, made her question it for a second, before she walked into her Textiles classroom and was handed her ticket to men’s London Fashion Week and squealed with excitement.

There was no doubt. Suddenly she felt like she was born to study Fashion and Textile design, to work in that industry, and get a buzz from it everyday.

Everyday, Molly still did get a buzz that she was able to do something she loved, was making steps to being able to carve a career in something that made her heart sing. However, she still felt an unnecessary need to please people, to prove that she’d made the right decision, and she wasn’t wasting time and money studying something that could end in a dead end retail career; as Ryan had so kindly put it after she’d submitted her UCAS application to five universities for fashion design courses.

Looking back, how she’d been with him so long was a question she couldn’t answer. He’d never been supportive. But that was done now, and what she’d learned was although she didn’t need someone by her side to be supportive of her every move, she did want it.

The previous workshop hadn’t kicked out when Molly rocked up outside. Looking at her phone she was only five minutes earlier so she rested against the wall, beside the door and waited patiently for two pm to tick around. It was rare to walk into a workshop straight after another group had been in there. Normally Molly would walk straight into the room and make herself comfortable to wait for the class to start. As it was, she waited in the cold corridor, cuddling her arms around herself, and praying to god someone had wheeled an electric heater into the room.

“Molly.” Molly snapped her head up. She’d only meant to rest her eyes, but it appeared she was close to drifting off, standing against the wall, her head fallen into her chest. Quickly she felt her cheeks reddening as she flicked her head around to find her lecturer looking at her confused. Max Hambleton had worked for Calvin Klein and Tom Ford in New York, and done a stint in Milan for various designers. Not to mention the chorus of high end fashion magazines he’d worked for. Yet Molly was being called to consciousness by him in a university corridor. It wasn’t exactly how she wanted him to remember her, but she was sure he now would. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine sorry.” Molly hastened, straightening herself and hoisting her bag up onto her shoulder further. Max just looked her up and down a little, a slight furrow in his clearly botoxed brow as Molly moved from the wall to get in through the door.

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” Max asked again, pulling the door closed behind him. “You don’t look so good.” He explained folding his arms across his chest as a concerned look ran across his features, still looking over Molly’s colourless face an dim eyes.

“So everyone keeps saying.” Molly grumbled, shrugging at her bag again for no real reason. “It’s just a cold, I’m fine.” Molly explained, though the depth and croak of her voice did nothing to evidence that she was indeed fine.

“I’m sending you home.” Max instructed after a few seconds of looking over Molly again. There was no getting away from just how un-herself she looked. She looked drained and like she hadn’t slept in weeks, though it had barely been days.

“I’m fine.” Molly tried again, but Max shook his head and opened the door.

“No, you need to go home and rest.” He insisted with wide eyes. It was often easy to forget workshop leaders were teachers, they, particularly Max, had a tendency to act more like a friend. However, when he used that tone, and wore that look, it was very clear he was the one in charge. “I’ll send you the notes and the assignment, but I don’t want to see you again until you don’t look like you’ve just done twenty rounds with Muhammad Ali, ok?” Matt told her, one hand on the door handle, the other on his hip. Molly sighed and shook her head, looking down at her black Timberlands. It wasn’t what she wanted at all, but it was quite evident there wasn’t a choice.

“Fine.” Molly grumbled, turning on her heel and walking away, only glancing over her shoulder when she heard the door shut.

If Molly was brutally honest with herself, she felt a little relieved to be heading back home. The morning, that had consisted of not a lot, had taken it out of her, and with the tablets she’d taken now leaving her system, every limb was aching, literally, for her bed and a little sleep. Normally a missed workshop, lecture, seminar, might keep her awake, but she was fairly certain, feeling how she currently was, there was very little that would stop her falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow. Even so she knew she’d be checking her emails the second she got in for Max’s promised notes so she could print and read over them that night with a cup of tea.

The busses were running behind schedule. The wait for Molly’s bus was twelve minutes when she got to the bus stop and stood under the shelter out of the wind. There was no one else about, a couple of students wandering down the road towards the campus, but other than that no one. Molly seemed to be the only one who made enough effort to be out on the gloomiest day of the new year so far.

For a mere second she considered calling a taxi. She had numbers saved in her phone from nights out, just in case, though they were rarely used. The cold was getting to her, and she was only getting more tired. Molly even opened her bag to start hunting for her phone before she stopped herself. She’d paid forty pounds for a months bus pass to see her through the bitterest of winter months, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get her moneys worth. Looking at the announcement board, she saw two minutes had passed already. Only ten minutes and she’d be on a warm bus that would take her virtually to her front door. It really wasn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things.

It was the slowest ten minutes of her life. Two other busses came and went, but neither of them were the one Molly required. When it did eventually pull up into the stop, Molly felt frozen to her core and she couldn’t stop the shivering anymore. Her fingers were shaking as she flicked her bus pass card against the ticket machine and wandered up the narrow galley for an empty double seat. A bus chair had never felt so good, and her feet rested against the hot air blower under the seat she’d hoped would be free.

Slowly, Molly got warmer, but the shivering didn’t cease, in fact it only seemed to increase. Each stop passed in a blur of passengers, and Molly only got hotter, to the point she considered taking her coat off, but never did, enjoying the blanketing feeling it was giving her as she cuddled it around herself and snuggled her chin down into it. Not to mention, the fact she was still shaking from cold, so perhaps she wasn’t as warm as she thought.

When the bus eventually got to her road, Molly leaned forward and pressed the button, hoiking herself up from the seat with a great deal of effort and dragging herself off the bus, thanking the driver as she passed the little window he sat behind. The cold hit her again instantly and her teeth chattered as she walked, as fast as she could, for the severe lack of energy to her house. The lights in the entrance way, and their kitchen were on, she could see that. Of course that didn’t mean anyone was in. No one was guilt-free when it came to forgetting to turn lights off before leaving the house.

Molly began to rummage in her huge back for her house keys before she got to the door. Of course they were right at the bottom, tangled around her portable charger lead that had somehow escaped from the pouch she kept it in. There was nothing that made Molly want to untangle them there and then, so she just tugged at the keys until they were released enough to be useable and awkwardly let herself in.

The noise hit her immediately. Loud chanting and cheering that reminded her of the headache she hadn’t forgotten about anyway. The laughter was boisterous and the voices low, chorusing from the front room. Molly groaned to herself as she dropped her bag to the floor and kicked her boots off. Never in her life had Molly walked around with socks on her feet, she hated the sensation, but even that came second to trying to keep the warmth she’d worked up inside her body rather than letting it out. She padded through to the kitchen, barely lifting her feet, rather scuffing them across the cheap laminate that was chipped and dented in places.

A large group of boys were crowded into the living space of the house, spread out of the chairs and floor, taking over the whole room. Ben was sat on the arm of the big three seater sofa, a controller in his hand. Little cartoon looking men were running around on the screen and Molly could have cried. Noticing the light had been on, she’d just hoped someone had left it on, as was normally the case. Instead, it meant her house was filled with Ben’s football team friends for an afternoon of video games before their weekly night out with the netball team. Molly was staring hopelessly at them, wishing they’d just disappear, when Ben turned around with a wide smile on his face having just scored a goal.

“Alright Mol?” He asked, turning back to the TV. “Look a bit rough.”

“Yeah got a cold, and a banging headache.” Molly told him, putting emphasis on the headache part, hoping he’d get the hint, though Ben didn’t seem to hear at all, just nodded. “I’m going to bed.”

“Ok, have fun.” Molly rolled her eyes, groaned loudly and snatched the box of paracetamol tablets from the kitchen side where she’d left them that morning, before traipsing back out to her bedroom, grabbing her bag as she went.

The rest of the flat was dark, and Molly’s bedroom was no different. Even with the blinds open the natural light seeping through was minimal. Despite that she shut them, darkening the room further and falling to sit on her bed. There was a glass of water on the side from that morning and she swallowed two of the tablets with a mouthful of it easily. Finally she shrugged her coat off and pushed it onto the floor so she could get comfy under her duvet.

Molly shut her eyes and tried to let sleep take her, but the noise travelling through from the living room was hard to get away from. The thin walls and doors that didn’t quite reach the floors meant Molly could hear virtually every word, and definitely every sound that came from the congregation of boys that were getting far too excited over a video game. It was sods law that the one afternoon Molly actually wanted the house to herself, or at least for the house to be quiet, it was full of people. Noisy people.

Feeling the way she was, Molly thought sleep would come easily regardless of anything else. However, as she tossed and turned in her bed, she realised she was wrong. She began to feel restless, her aching legs frustrating her with their unwillingness to relax. Uncomfortable didn’t quite cut it, but getting out of bed to undress and put pyjamas on didn’t seem appealing either. Sleep was all she wanted, a long deep sleep that would rid her of the headache, and the restlessness, and the grating of her throat.

Finally with her head covered by her duvet, one leg tucked up to her chest, the other stretched across the bed, Molly felt comfortable. Her mind started to switch off and through duvet the noise that had been irritating her became nothing more than a background buzz that was easier to ignore.

It felt like she’d only just begun to doze off when her phone rang loud through the silence she’d found and jolted her back to consciousness aggressively. It was never going to be urgent, but Molly was so stunned into being awake again, that she found herself scrambling from her bed for her phone, still in her coat pocket. When she finally pulled it out, Harry’s name and contact photo, on she’d taken of him the last time they’d been together, flashed on the screen. She slid it across to answer and fell back into her bed.

“Hello?” Molly answered groggily.

“Oh sorry were you asleep?” Harry asked and she could hear the concern in his voice, over the noise of crashing around in the background.

“Trying to.” Molly told him, yawning as she did so.

“Oh sorry love, thought I’d caught you after your workshop.” Harry explained, the background noise ceasing and a loud slam of a car door sounding instead. “Was gonna ask if you wanted to hang out?” Harry asked. Molly’s tummy flipped. She would have loved to, spending the evening with Harry sounded perfect, but her still pounding headache, and yet to be resolved lack of sleep were telling it probabaly wasn’t the best move.

“I’d love to, but I got sent home from uni ill so should probably just rest up.” Molly lamented sadly, combing her hair away from her face. Even that hurt her sensitive head and made her wince her little as she took her fingers from the tangled lengths steadily.

“You got sent home!?” Harry cried in disbelief. “I told you you were sick and should get rest.” Harry reminder her, Molly rolling her eyes having anticipated that reaction. Since Sunday evening Harry had told her countless times he thought she was getting ill and needed to rest, she’d insisted it was just a bit of a cold and would pass, though Harry wasn’t so sure, and had clearly been right not to be so easily convinced. “Well you need to sleep.”

“I’m trying, Ben’s got all the football lads here and they’re causing a right racket.” Molly complained, staring through the walls as if the boys four rooms down might be able to feel her glare through the bricks.

“Really?” Harry asked, Molly just hummed in response. “Wanna come to mine?” Harry asked. Molly didn’t say anything for a minute, Harry did though; “It’ll be quiet, and warm.” He told her and Molly knew that would be true. Harry’s flat had been just the right temperature every time she’d been there, even her tendency to feel the cold hadn’t been able to prevail, and Molly was fairly certain even the M25 was currently more quiet than her flat.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get ill as well.” Molly warned him.

“Of course I’m sure, it’s fine.” Harry promised. “Look, I’m just packing up at work, give me an hour or so and I’ll come and grab you yeah?” Molly hadn’t realised it was that late in the day until then, but suddenly it made sense that her room felt darker than it had before. Maybe she had caught a bit of sleep somewhere in her fogged head.

“Ok.” Molly smiled.

“And hey, we get to hang out too.” Harry pointed out and she swore she could hear the grin on his face.

“True.”

“Ok, well I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Will do, thank you.” Molly smiled to herself, content in the warmth she was feeling from Harry’s offer and the idea of spending the evening in his flat with him.

“Of course.” Harry breathed, before they said their goodbyes and Harry ended the call, eager to get packed up at work. Molly was just as eager, she couldn’t wait to see him. It had been two days since they’d seen each other, of course they’d spoken, every night on the phone, but nothing beat actually being in his company. It was sickeningly addictive, and spending time with him was sweet and soft. Suddenly Molly felt a little spring in her step, and she wanted to do anything possible to make the time go quicker until Harry was knocking on her door again. It wasn’t anything Molly had ever experienced before. It was so different to what she’d had with Ryan. The feeling inside her was far more exciting, and somehow more blissful.

Looking back, how things with Ryan had happened had been predictable. What was moving with Harry seemed to come from nowhere, and the unexpected nature of it only made it more thrilling and exciting. Though that wasn’t the only reason she felt a constant kaleidoscope of butterflies in her tummy and the mere mention of his name, let alone his voice, or his presence. There was something about it, something more than the undoubted rugged good looks he had, or his strong sure stature, or how he could go from a dark smirk to bubbly grin in under two seconds. It was the way he made Molly feel. In the five months they’d known one another, he’d made her feel more comfortable with being herself, and more at home, than she realised she could. He took it to another level for her, that she wasn’t aware existed. It could have been frightening if it didn’t feel so good.

Molly always had the tendency to blow things out of proportion, to stress over the small stuff, it was just part of her nature. Somehow, Harry made that not feel so necessary. Somehow he made even the big stuff feel like it didn’t need a second of her brain space or her attention. Everything felt easy around him. Apart from maybe being around him.

Every now and again, a little flutter of nerves would rise their head when they were together. Normally when she was under his intense gaze, his eyes locked on her as he waited for her to say something, or answer a question, or make a decision. It was getting more frequent though. When he’d been sat casually shirtless in his living room, seemingly entirely unaware of the effect he had on her. The way he’d looked at her in Nancy’s hallway. The feeling of his knee tapping against hers under the table at brunch and how for a second she’d wished, thought, it was his hand making home on her thigh.

It wasn’t nerves that made her feel sick, or scared her, or made her aware of something she should avoid. Instead it was nerves that ignited every part of her and burned through her like friendly fire. It wasn’t nerves she wanted to stop or make go away, take deep breaths through to ease. It seemed to be getting worse every time they moved closer into each other's orbits and everytime they took a little step away from ‘just friends’, everytime they got closer to diving into that water together. The water seemed clearer than it had before, far less rocks to get stuck on, and much smoother. It seemed like it would be blissful.

Seeing as her phone was already in her hand, Molly used the time she was anxious to pass to check her emails for the notes from Max. It was there second from the top, under a promotional email from Victoria’s Secret. ‘Intro to portfolio presentation notes.’ Molly clicked on it and opened up the attachment. It wasn’t the best device for reading over the notes, but her mind wasn’t exactly in the right place to take it all in properly, so it made no odds.

There were only eight slides on the powerpoint presentation, and the bullet points made for light easy reading. It was mostly basic ideas that Molly had already started to get her head around in first year. Obviously it meant more now, with the marks she got this year going towards her overall degree grade, and the few added tips and pointers were useful. Molly already had an idea in her mind for the ‘re-imagining’ project though. It had only been introduced to her two days ago in her first seminar of the semester, but by the time she was home she had inspiration in her head, and fabric samples practically bought.

It wasn’t unusual for Molly to get ahead of herself, and eventually she’d slow down, and probably panic and set herself back as she started to think too much rather than go with the direction her creativity was pulling her in. However, in that moment, she was excited about the prospect. It gave her an excuse to work on menswear, which was something she didn’t really need an excuse for, and also a chance to put her tailoring skills to use.

The notes seemed to take longer for her to get through, but only because she kept getting distracted by the picture examples Max had included with inspired ideas of her own. When the knock on the door sounded heavy around the flat, Molly jumped to attention, suddenly remembering the doorbell they still had yet to get fixed. Molly got up from her bed and all but skipped to her bedroom door. When she got out to the hallway, Ben was already stood with it open, letting Harry into the house, the two of them chattering and laughing.

“Hey.” Molly called drawing their attention. Harry spun his head to her and grinned quickly. “Mind if I just get changed into something comfier?” Molly asked. She’d been intending on getting changed before Harry turned up, but she hadn’t expected him to be so quick.

“Of course.” Harry nodded. Ben invited Harry into the lounge as Molly turned back to her room to get changed. Folded on her desk were the grey leggings Lauren had bought her for Christmas, the ones that matched the pair Lauren owned and Molly always told her she loved, with the black waistband and brand name written around it. Molly pulled them on, they were the softest things she’d ever worn and she loved them. They suited her current state perfectly, along with the navy hoodie folded underneath them. It was far from her most stylish look, but she didn’t care even an ounce about that, and just to push the point she pulled on a pair of fluffy socks and slid her feet into her Adidas Superstars before going back out to the lounge to find Harry with her handbag on her shoulder.

“Manchester United? Why?” Ben was asking, sat back in the same spot he had been earlier, Harry stood beside him with his arms folded across his chest, both glued to the computer generated football game two of Ben’s friends were playing.

“That’s where I’m from.” Harry laughed, and Molly felt herself being taken back. She’d always noted Harry’s slightly northern accent, but somehow it still took her by surprise.

“I didn’t know that.” She noted from the kitchen, checking through her bag that she had everything she could need and throwing the box of paracetamol into it.

“You never noticed his accent before Mol?” Ben chuckled. Molly just gave him a glare, until he turned back to the TV with an amused grin on his face. Harry was striding towards her, hands in the black zip up fleece he was wearing, covered in dust, and chuckling to himself. It wasn’t Molly hadn’t noticed, in fact it was one of the first things she’d noticed aside from his annoyingly good looks, but it was never confirmed and it just seemed to point out how little Molly knew about Harry’s past.

“You really are ill huh love?” Harry chided once he was close enough. Molly just rolled her eyes at him and coughed dramatically only earning enough throaty laugh from Harry. “Ready for some R&R then?” He asked.

“Definitely.” Molly smiled, sliding her arm through the bend in Harry’s that he outstretched for her to do so, deciding in her kitchen, with a living room full of boys wasn’t the place to start asking about Harry’s childhood, and also wondering if there ever would be a time and a place.

The drive out to Harry’s place felt peaceful. Molly found herself pushing as far back into the seat as she could and wrapping herself in the teddy bear coat she’d pulled on before leaving. The heating system was chucking out warm air that made her feel sleepy, the low light of the street lamps only aiding it. It had started to rain at last, and gentle spots of water tapped at the glass as Harry drove through it towards his house. They had the music turned low, to a volume that didn’t make Molly’s head pound anymore than it already was, and was also conductive to a little conversation about the days they’d both just had. Molly made the decision not to mention the conversation she’d had with Amanda about Katie, it didn’t feel necessary, but she did mention that she’d had a really lovely lunch with her, though neither of them had eaten anything.

Once they were in Harry’s flat, Harry was quick to kick off his work boots and strip off his fleece, the polo shirt underneath tight fitting and hugging every muscle it covered. The flat was already heated, the underfloor pipes obviously having kicked in at some point that afternoon in anticipation of Harry’s return from work. It meant Molly could slip her trainers and socks off and not worry about cold feet the way she had in her house. Harry flicked on a few lights as he went through the living room, Molly following once she’d taken her coat off and put her bag tidily in the corner of the entrance way.

“Feeling pretty rough then?” Harry asked, flicking on the lamp on the table beside the sofa. It felt like the cosy winter night it was. The lightbulbs Harry had chosen were dim, golden, inoffensive to Molly’s slightly sensitive eyes, and the rain was tickling against the glass gently.

“Yeah.” Molly nodded, jutting her bottom lip out a little, making Harry chuckle.

“Oh dear, poor Lolly.” Harry sympathised enthusiastically. “Do you think you should book a doctors appointment?” Harry asked, stepping a little closer to Molly, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth and chewing on it a little.

“Nah I’m not registered here and I’m not going all the way home for what I’m certain is just a cold.” Molly shrugged, toying with the sleeves of her hoodie.

“You’re not registered here!?” Harry gawped his head shooting forward and his eyes widening enough to crease his forehead. Molly just shook her head. She’d just never bothered, never really gotten around to it, and she rarely went to the doctors anyway, it felt rather pointless. “You should register here, what if it wasn’t just a cold?” Harry pressed, folding his arms across himself loosely.

“Yeah but it is, so it doesn’t matter.” Molly assured, maintaining eye contact with Harry as she did so. Molly saw his jaw tighten and she knew he wanted to argue the point. It only took a second though and he seemed to decide it was pointless, sighing and letting the tension leak out of him until he seemed relaxed again.

“What if it gets worse?” Harry asked quietly, and it was Molly’s turn to roll her eyes.

“If it gets worse, which it won’t, it’s a cold, I’ll think about going to the doctors.” Molly bargained monotonously. Of course she appreciated the concern, but she still wished Harry would listen to her and trust her when she was telling him she was ok. She was. She had a cold, maybe a bad cold, but a cold nonetheless.

“Want a bath before dinner?” Harry offered and Molly was visibly taken back, but Harry didn’t seem fazed just walked past her and headed for the bathroom. Molly turned to watch him go, open the bathroom door and turn the light on. “I’ve got some bath oil that’s good for colds, and a couple candles, baths always help.” Harry was chatting away, head in the under sink cupboard when Molly rounded the bathroom door, peering in as Harry fell back onto his knees inspecting a small, brown glass bottle, a purple label across it. “How do you feel about lavender?” Harry asked, looking up to Molly from where he was sat.

“Sure, but you don’t have to do this, I’m happy just chilling on the couch with you for the evening.” Molly told him, her hands holding onto the door frame gently, tipping her head to rest against it too.

“Nah, a bath will do you good, I’ll rustle up some soup while you’re in here.” Harry told her as he got to his feet and flicked the bath taps on, flicking his finger tips under the stream to check the water. “If you don’t feel better after this, you really might have to go to the doctors.” Harry jested with a smirk.

“Best make it good then, cause I’m not going to the doctors.” Molly sung sarcastically, Harry just huffing a sort of laugh as he turned his head from Molly to the bath slowly filling with water.

The tub was huge, deeper than the grandiose bath in her mother and father’s ensuite that never got used. Molly sunk into the warm water, the lights dimmed and candles lit around the room, the way Harry had left it for her, before he called her back to the bathroom to get undressed for her bath. There was black fluffy towel on the radiator keeping warm for when she was done, and Harry had left a bottle of shower gel beside the bath for her as well, the same one from last time. He’d apologised for his lack of feminine scents, but Molly had told him she didn’t mind and actually quite liked the smell of his shower gel, which had left her blushing and eager to shut the door, and Harry smirking knowingly, reading between the lines the way he did so well.

Harry was of course right, the bath instantly eased the ache in her limbs and she felt lighter for it as she closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh. The lavender oils that was coming off the water, through the mountains of bubbles that covered Molly entirely, eased her stuffy nose a little and helped relax her entirely. Molly had never had a bath like it, but she doubted she could go back to the plain water baths she was used to. Baths had never been Molly’s thing, she’d always preferred showers, but baths like the ones Harry had drawn for her, she could get used to those.

It was so tranquil, and despite the cold, Molly had never felt so relaxed. There wasn’t a sound apart from the occasional ripple of the water as she moved, or a slight sound of Harry in the kitchen. For the first time in three days Molly genuinely felt ok, rather than that she was running on empty with a constant headache.

Slowly she opened her eyes. Molly had no idea how long she’d been laying in the bath, but the temperature of the water had started to drop. With a sigh she pulled herself up, but apparently a little too quickly as her vision took a moment to catch up with her head. Even when it did, it still felt fuzzy and a little light. Molly just shook her head and got to her feet stepping out of the bath and reaching for the towel all in one movement. It was as she was wrapping the towel around her dripping wet body though, that her vision started to blur and spot even more.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, like somewhere between lying in the bath and getting out of it she’d forgotten her head. It felt light and disassociated with her body. It sounded like her ear drums were humming, and there was a severe sensation of nausea in her throat. Molly reached out for the light switch and flicked it on, wondering if it was the oddly low lighting that was making her feel out of sorts. It made no odds though, if anything it made it worse, her head started to pound, harder than it had all day, as well as feel fuzzy and disconnected to anything tangible.

Steadily Molly sat herself on the closed toilet seat lid and took a few deep breaths. She’d heard about people passing out, but it had never happened to her before, she had an idea that was what happening though, or trying to happen as her head only felt stranger and more dark spots made their way over her vision. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but that didn’t make the spots disappear, instead the outskirts of her vision just got dark and hazy too.

“Harry.” Molly called loudly, her heart rate increasing somewhat and her breathing getting faster along with it. There was a low ringing noise in her ear, but she couldn’t hear anything over it, unable to tell if Harry was coming or not she called for him louder. “Harry!” She cried, staring at the door waiting for it to open. Every part of her was shaking, though her skin felt clammy and hot.

“You ok?” Molly heard him shout through the door over the din in her noise. Of course he was being polite and wasn’t about to just barge through the door, but Molly half wished he would as she began to find it harder to see and breathe, panic setting in.

“I think I’m going to pass out.” Molly sputtered loudly, and then the door did swing open aggressively, flying nearly off its hinges as Harry rushed in. Through the dark parts of her vision and the spots Molly could just about make out the blurry edges of Harry coming towards her. Tears were beginning to gather in her eyes which only made it harder to make him out, until he was in front of her, kneeling on the tiles and holding her shoulders firmly. “I can’t see.” Molly shook, quaking under Harry’s grasp.

“It’s ok, you’re ok,” Harry started suredly, his grip on her holding her steady. “Put your head down.” Harry instructed moving to the side a little and encouraging her to bend over herself. One of his hands slid from the top of her arm along her back, resting across her spine, the large expanse of it covering a vast part of her middle back. She could feel the warmth from his wrist to the tips of his fingers but the shivering didn’t stop, and the nausea just kept rising and falling, as if on the worst rollercoaster of her life. “Lolly, relax, I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” There was promise in his voice, and Molly couldn’t, not believe him.

You’re ok. Molly repeated in her head, taking slow deep breaths and grounding herself in the feeling of her lungs filling and emptying as she did so, and Harry’s hand gentle but steady on her back. He’s here. She reminded herself, noting how she could just feel the softness of his breath on her bare shoulder, like candy floss brushing against her skin, but warmer. He’s not going to let anything happen to you. Steadily she lifted her head, her vision seemed to be coming back, the spots decreasing and the blurry edges solidifying again.

“Steady.” Harry advised, moving background in front of her as Molly lifted her head and blinked, slowly, a few times, bringing Harry into focus.

“It’s ok, I can see now.” Molly told him quietly, clearing her throat from how it had clenched up around the panic she’d felt.

“Your head?” Harry asked gently, his forearms resting on her bent knees so his hands could reach her arms and cradle them.

“Still a little light.” Molly told him.

“Feel sick?” He questioned, and Molly nodded. “Ok, just calm down for a sec.” Harry instructed relaxing a little bit as Molly began to swallow on nothing and calm herself down. Under his touch her skin was sticky from a light sweat, it didn’t worry him in the slightest though, he just brushed the pad of his thumb against her goose pimpled arms. “Bit low on sugar?” Harry guessed. “What did you eat today?” Molly thought back on her day. She hadn’t eaten with Amanda, or since then. That morning, she’d attempted a bowl of cereal but hadn’t got very far with it before deciding on an apple for breakfast. “Have you eaten today?”

“An apple.” Molly told him honestly, wincing a little, already expecting the reaction she would get.

“An apple!?” Harry shot. “Lolly, you’ve gotta eat? Why haven’t you eaten anything?”

“I just forgot.” Molly told him, again honestly. In the blur of meeting Amanda and getting to university only to get sent home, food hadn’t come to her mind. Apart from that, she didn’t exactly have an appetite.

“How do you forget to eat?” Harry sighed, shaking his head as his lips twisted a little. Molly just shrugged. “Nevermind, how’s your head feeling?”

“Better, just sore.” Molly told him, and Harry nodded.

“Come lie down for a minute.” Harry suggested, moving back and taking Molly’s hands. They stood up together hand in hand, Harry steading Molly with an arm around her middle once they were on their feet. Molly held the towel around herself with one hand, she had it tucked into itself, but she didn’t want it to fall down. As they were leaving the bathroom, Harry grabbed Molly’s clothes from where she’d folded them on the floor and led her out to his bedroom. “Just have a lie down for a bit.” Harry told her, his arm sliding from around her, though his other one still held onto one of hers as she sat down and swung around, lying back on the perfectly made bed. “I’ll just grab you some water.”

Harry disappeared from the bedroom and Molly made herself more comfortable, making sure she was well covered by the towel before he came back. It felt like two steps back, the bath had been glorious, but she felt worse that she had before thanks to the turn. When Harry came back seconds later with a large pint glass of water she smiled at him, scooting over so he could sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Just sip it.” He told her, handing the glass to Molly and taking the seat she’d made for him, as she thanked him . Molly did as she was asked taking a small sip and relishing in the ice cold water running down her throat. Harry watched, eyes scanning over her as if looking for marks or injuries. Of course there were none to find but even then the worried look didn’t run off his face easily. The concern was swimming in his eyes as he looked at Molly and tugged at his bottom lip with bare fingers. “I think you might be more ill than you think.” Harry pointed out.

“I’m fine,” Molly implored, enjoying the cold glass in her hand refreshing her clammy skin. “Just a funny five minutes.” She shrugged.

“You need to go to the doctors.” Harry asserted strongly, wide eyed and serious as he stared at Molly.

“Harry, I am not going all the way home for-”

“I’ll drive you.” Harry interrupted, twisting a little to face Molly properly. One of his legs bent to allow him a proper seat on the bed, his knee leaning on Molly’s leg gently.

“No, no, definitely not.” Molly told him shaking her head.

“Lolly-”

“Harry no, it’s four hours, you are not, I am not going home to the doctors end of conversation.”  Molly told him, cutting him off before he could even try and barter with her.

“Loll-”

“Harry-”

“No listen to me.” Harry cut over her shrill annunciation of his name. Molly’s nostrils flared as she fumed, biting her jaw together and waiting for him to try and convince him to let her drive her home. She wouldn’t she knew that. “You are ill, you look exhausted, you sound like you smoke fifty a day, you nearly passed out in my bathroom, you need to see a doctor.” Harry told her, measured and calm.

“No Harry, it’s not happening, I will be fine, and you are not driving me all the way home, so just forget it.” Molly finished and it was Harry’s turn to tighten his jaw and flare his nostrils, clearly dissatisfied with Molly’s response. “You can’t keep doing this.” Molly told him, softening a little.

“I can.” Harry hissed, not dropping Molly’s eyes for a second as he did so.

“Well I’m putting my foot down this time.” Molly told him, not caring for his petulant attitude, or giving into it.

“Can we compromise?” Harry suggested gently.

“Depends.”

“If it gets worse-”

“It won’t.” Molly cut in, and Harry tilted his head at her, unimpressed with her unwillingness to even let him talk.

“If it’s no better by Thursday, you will book a doctors appointment and let me take you home.” Harry bargained pointedly. Molly sighed and fluttered her eyes a little.

“If it’s no better by Thursday, which it will be, I will consider booking an appointment ok?” Molly pledged with honest eyes. Of course she would keep to her word, but she knew she’d be feeling better by tomorrow morning, she was sure of it, so she knew it would never come to that. And all she’d promised was to consider it anyway. There was no way, come hell or high water, Molly intended on letting Harry drive her the four hours home for a doctors appointment.

“Fine.” Harry gave in sinking a little into the bed. His eyes were a little lazy, soft, despite his mild frustration. They made Molly want to grab his arm and pull him up the bed beside her. Of course she didn’t, she just stared into his butter wouldn’t melt gaze and tried not to lose her mind. “I’m gonna go finish dinner, you chill for a minute, take your time, no rush.” Harry smiled lightly standing slowly from the bed and glancing back at Molly, combing his hair back out of his face with long fingers.

“Thank you Harry, for all of this.” Molly told him, the constant feeling that she didn’t tell him enough, and never told him how it made her feel, or how much he meant to her, as present as ever.

“Anything for you Lolly.” Molly’s heart fluttered and sunk at the same time, as Harry offered her a warm smile before striding out of the room. There was no doubt in her mind that when Harry said anything he meant it literally, and she couldn’t help that the idea of that terrified her a little.

A/N Hey guys, hope you like this one as much as I do. Be sure to let me know if you do and what you think. Where do we think it’s going from here!? 

If you missed them the instas for the last five chapters are up so be sure to check them out.

As always thanks for all the love on this so far, it really means a lot that you’re all enjoying it so much <3

Have a great weekend, Love I x

[queerafterthought]

Everything is a lie. Everything. I don’t know what to belive anymore and I don’t trust anyone anymore. No matter what I do he’ll find a way to make it worse. He always goes for the gut where it’ll hurt. He knows I’ll think about it non stop it’ll eat away at me. He can say the worst things to me make me feel like I’m nothing but everyone sees me as an immature child and I’m always wrong. Just cause he said so. If i cant sit down with someone and have an “adult conversion” 10 mins after they just told me I was insane cause I had to go to a mental hospital for bpd and tell me I’m evil. Told me id never be anything never have any power threatened to put me on the street call the police on me. He said i have no friends. They were never mine they’re his. And he has the power to make them not like me. And now after i thought that things would be different this time it seems like its going to be the same. He controls the situation and i have no power and it wont take long until everyone thinks im in the wrong. And im not saying that i didnt do my fair share of bad things that culminated into where im at now but for the people i considered to be my closest friends here say that my actions are childish and immature when all I asked for is space and to stop being harassed and forced into conversation with someone who broke my heart and makes me feel worthless and tried to put me out on the street makes me feel like shit. Like I don’t matter. My feelings dont matter and they never will. And now I’m doubting everything positive that was said to me recently cause now I feel like they were all lies. But like he said they’re not my friends they never were. And I can’t help to think that if they never saw me again it wouldn’t change their lives at all. This isn’t what I wanted. I tried to fix it. I tried to forget all the things he said in the past tell my brain to forget that he didn’t mean it. But I couldn’t and over time I grew to resent him for how he made me feel. Get mad at me because I couldn’t get over that fact that he called me a horrible girlfriend and that if he saw me getting jumped he wouldn’t help me cause I didn’t believe that our friends jumped him because they clearly didnt. Im pretty sure if he had actually gotten jumped he wouldnt have went over to their house 4 days later and gotten drunk with them. And i mean like i said im not so dense to see that I did do some wrong things too. But I never actually tried to hurt his feelings and make him feel bad. I have to work on some anger issues I’m aware. Even though I feel like no one believes me I have been looking for another psychiatrist and therapist just want a specific one. And I feel like I should be comfortable with who I’m talking to and shouldn’t have to compromise on that. I know it’ll take some time to find what I’m looking for but it doesn’t mean I’m not looking. I want to get re medicated cause the meds I have now make me feel like shit. Like sometimes I feel like ima pass out other times I’m a zombie and anything in between. He brings up how they “used to work” and I remember the days he was talking about. I thought they worked too. But they didn’t stop the thoughts or the urges of what I wanted to do to myself they just made me numb I got so disconnected from everything and everyone that anyone who reached out to me I clung to them to stay sane. I know because of this I made some mistakes did some things I know I shouldn’t have done but I wasn’t trying to hurt him or be bad I just wanted to maintain one of the only friendships I had left back at home. But it doesn’t matter cause the friendship got lost all of them did. I don’t have friends back at home anymore not really. I have people that I disconnected from because my dissociative habits got the better of me and I spent most of my time back at home trying to remember what day it was and where the time went and what I was doing (which was nothing) trying so hard to cling to reality but end up cooped up in my room for weeks at a time only leaving it to go to work or the bathroom or eat. I’m not excusing my behavior but I could tell the meds were losing their placebo affect and we’re not meshing with my body. They told me this might happen but I was already bound to come back to memphis at this point and I thought that if I took what I needed when I was too deep in my emotions it would help a little but I was wrong if anything I think it made it worse cause they weren’t reacting well with my body and taking them irregularly can’t be any better. But I was still trying. Really hard. Trying to keep everything together keep my emotions in check because it got to the point where I didn’t feel comfortable expressing myself or my emotions to him. If i wasn’t happy it made him mad. But it’s hard when everything in your brain is pushing you to feel your emotions so strong and even when I tried my hardest I would still be really mad and upset over the words he said to me and I couldn’t forget them. Those words cut so deep that it changed how I felt and so my actions became synonymous. I started to act colder because I was hurt and I felt like he didn’t deserve for me to be sweet or nice because he never understood how much he hurt me everytime. I can’t get over hearing those things be said to me by someone I loved and get over it in 10 mins when he’s ready talk and forget it ever happened and change nothing. I deserve to be able to talk about things when I’m ready and I shouldn’t be forced to or made to feel like a child because it’s not on his terms. Just because he said sorry. I remember when he told me that when I said I’m sorry it didn’t mean shit. And the part that fucks me up the most is that no one told me this in person. They talked about it behind my back but to my face they tell me I’m strong and I’m doing the right thing for me and I shouldn’t have to talk to him if I don’t want to and I deserve my space. Why am I immature? Is it because I took everthing in the house that was mine and put it in the back room so i could look after my things because i was afraid they’d be thrown out? That i sleep on the floor for the moment cause i dont want him to use the fact that i slept in his bed aginst me? Because he told me that they were his property and I can’t sleep in it. That I don’t feel comfortable enough to inhabit another room besides in the very back because he’s made points to tell me that this is “his house ” and give me ultimatums threating to kick me out because I wasn’t here to put my name on the lease so he has the power to (something he told me id never have) even though I pay to live here too but I’ve never truly felt like i was apart of this house no matter how much I tried to decorate and make it feel like our home but it never was mine the whole time I felt like I was paying him to live here not the landlord. Is it because when he told me to pack up my dollar tree shit and get out i took him seriously? Is it because i burned pictures of us and gifts because it was too hard to look at and be reminded of how far my relationship had fallen? By no means does this scenario alone make me want to kill myself but it adds the notion that I believe I am a burden that no one truly wishes to deal with which does make me want to end this sad life i live. He publicly tries to push my buttons make me seen crazy to people. Some people believe him. Through everything the thing that hurts my feelings the most is that everyone still talks to him. If someone treated my friends like this i wouldnt talk to them invite them places when i know they are mentally manipulating and abusing my friend. His feelings and inclusion means more than me and my feelings. He can harrass me in the streets at bars convince people to not talk to me but when he is screaming in my face to the point where he needs to be physically pulled away because I didn’t want to talk to him it’s still my fault. The cops said so too. Tried to get a restraining order and I can’t. Cause even the cops take his side. And my friends were there witnessed it and just pretend like nothing happened or do nothing. I wouldn’t be friends with someone who treated my friends like that so cruelly. I don’t talk to people that my friends have issues with. The most superficial and petty reasons why they would be hurt if i even said hi. And i know they would never say it but i would hurt their feelings. So why cant i be hurt by the fact that no one stopped talking to him. When they see how he treats me. I do what i do for them out of respect and support but they can’t do the same when I’m clearly being harassed. she died i always said it should have been me. Everyone liked her better. She was better than me. Im just a knockoff. If she were still alive my niece and nephew would still be together and my nephew wouldnt be getting abused regularly with us not being able to do anything about it cause the court decided that his asshole sperm donor has more paternal rights than his family who raised him but this pimple on the asscrack of socieity who was never in his life can swoop in and literally snatch him out of school and move him away and we only get to see him 1 weekend out of the month. That 3 days out of the whole fucking month that he doesnt get beat. He has anxiety attacks. Hes 6. When he realizes he has to go back to his “dad” he starts hyperventilating and we have to try to calm him down so he can breathe. I can already tell hes gonna grow up with issues and it breaks my heart that he might grow up to be anything like me in that regard. Meanwhile my niece has had her only immediate family cruelly taken from her by snakes in people skin. Her father was never in her life either. I fear that soon mine won’t be either. My dad won’t tell me everything even though I tell him to tell me I know he holds some stuff back. I think the cancer is spreading and all I think about is how long left I have with him. My grandmother is in the stages of dementia. Soon she won’t remember me I’ll lose the last grandparent I have but not from death. When I was still in the relationship he would tell me I bring home burdens that weigh him down. But he says sorry so I shouldn’t believe the nasty things he says even though he’s said them more than once on different occasions. I just feel so lied to It wouldn’t matter. It doesnt matter. I don’t matter. Honestly I don’t think i ever did But I have to do this I have to stay strong for her. She left me 2 children to take care of. A part of her and I’ll be damned if I fuck it up. I can fuck up my life but not theirs

[mutantism-archive-blog]

sad otp meme erik/ravne (:

meme | accepting

who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?raven, bcause erik is so rarely kind or considerate lol so it takes genuine effort and she also probably knows he wouldnt show the same kindness to anyone else 

who flinches at sudden movements?definitely erik and then he’s really defiant abt that accidental vulnerability and is probably a Bitch for like 10 mins

who is most confused as to why their S.O. is still with them?raven??? her self-awareness and confidence issues are more fraught than erik’s , but also ??? idk i think she knows how useful she is and she knows how well they work as a team so?? neither of them?? erik has no confusion lolwho has to constantly check their S.O. still loves them?again --- raven? bcause while they can both be pretty independent and self-serving in relationships erik is definitely colder (lmao remember that time she said she loved him and he walked away) so?? she might need a reassurance he doesn’t, or hers shows itself in a tactile and physical way (like when she curls up next to charles etc) whereas any need he has for validation or reassurance is small and greedy and hidden (though she probably still sees it and brushes his hair or smt 2 show she cares lol)

who says the other/s would be better off with someone else?neither!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lmao neither of them are that Good. but also they so think they’re perfect for each otherwho gets surprised when they are given gifts?erik becuase he’s a bitch and doesnt

who is most likely to break down on the other and how does their S.O. attempt to calm them down?i’d say it’s actually surprisingly pretty equal???? they have breakdowns all the fuckn time @ each other, locked in their rooms like children 

who is most self conscious in public?raven??????

who is more likely to apologize a million time for a tiny mistake?raven!! (erik literally hasn’t apologised for stabbing her so?!?) think of post-cuba apologies !!! and her battle to be Enough, her battle to train harder and work harder and shut out any weakness so when she’s flat on her back on the training mat he doesn’t have that cold disappointed look in his eyes or when he’s watching her hand on a gun for the first time, watching her kill a man he could have killed just to see if she’ll do it he won’t curl his lip, unimpressed???!?!but also probs not anymore? bcause they’re much more equal now, even tho he can still be forbidding and unimpressed, she’d probably just tell him to get over himself

who admits they’re scared only when they think their S.O. is asleep and how does the other react?lol probably erik because he’s just that dramatic. and i think raven would just let him have that quiet confession and ignore him

who never thinks they’re good enough for the other?maybe baby raven to an extent? but also neither of them; between erik’s divine narcism and his constant ‘youre a tiger’ shit to raven i think both of them are pretty confident of the fact they’re both as bad as each other and fully deserve the other person’s rotten soul 

who takes a bullet for the other?raven !!!!! because erik will never take a bullet for anyone lmao. he’d stop it if he could obvs but he’ll never lay down his life for someone else sorry