#if only windows 10 supported the light blue heart emoji

[zaneclodon]

🧡💛🤍🩵💙

valentine's day is traditionally a celebration of romantic love for one's partner(s), and i'll happily support expressions of that between my friends and those i love (platonically). but not all of us want or need romance or partners. i'm proudly aroace, and i'm complete the way i am.

[creativeashproductions]

Songbird Shenanigans // Charlie Gillespie

IN WHICH: The reader will routinely sneak away from her band/hotel to continue her tour shenanigans in parking garages. A way for the young star to return to the stupid years where the concert venue was a car and the mic was the steering wheel. As each city comes and goes with the tour, one thing never changes, driving to parking garages to scream songs at the top of your lungs.

Warnings: Swearing, Mamma Mia songs (oops), and fluff

Words: 4.0k (with lyrics included)

A/N: There’s something endearing about Charlie randomly going a stranger in a duet and dance without a care. This was loosely inspired by the chaotic live they did when Jeremy and Charlie stayed at Owen’s place. I loved Charlie’s tropical shirt giving Animal Crossing vibes.

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Masterlist

A moment you had desired for a while finally came around in Oklahoma City during the free day between the two concerts. The pure quiet away from the interviews, photoshoots and demanding life of a musician. Yet despite wanting this time, you definitely felt bored, which only meant one thing.

A new video for your followers as you had done since the beginning of your successful career. Back before, you had the prominent following you had; now you would travel singing in your car, and then one video got viral. That elevated your following until you had signed a record deal with your brand new agent.

A series was then born of driving at night to the parking lots and garages in the city you temporarily visited. You'd park and sing any suggested songs from a previous video for an hour to see if a fan could find you. It was a fun game you had developed.

Y/N Y/L/N: Another installment of Songbird Shenanigans. From 9pm to 10:30pm, I'll be somewhere in Oklahoma City. Come find me for the prize!

Your agent both hated and loved the series as it brought attention to your career and songs but also was a hazard during the tour. The risk of losing your voice made your agent nervous, but the positives outweigh the negatives.

"What song are you doing?" Maddie asked from her chair in your hotel suite with a ratty book in her hand. Her rich dark hair pulled up in a high bun with a few pieces of bangs pulled down to hang free.

You didn't know if you could do what you do if you didn't have Maddie by your side as your singing partner and chief stylist. Maddie also always knew without looking on social media when you had a new installment coming.

"My most requested video is Train Wreck by-"

"James Arthur." Maddie snickered with her grey eyes pinned to the page she was reading faithfully. The book had seen better days, but it was her absolute favourite one by far and one of the only physical books she had.

"Somehow forgot you had it on repeat for a week straight." You snorted, shoving a hat on your head for warmth. A plain black coat pulled over your arms that matched the warm boots you had chosen, "I'll send you my location."

Maddie waved on hand in response, having known the routine since you first started this fun series. It allowed you a bit of your old life when the concerts you performed was solely in your car with the steering wheel as the microphone.

Judy, your agent, was sitting in the lobby with her binder surrounding her when she looked with a sigh. Without a word, she tossed the keys to the rented car she knew you'd need, so in each city, she rented one. A smile of gratitude shared before you were out the door with your hood up.

"Be careful!" Judy exclaimed just as the sliding doors closed behind you, sending you out in the cold night.

Almost instantly, your cheeks turned a light pink in the cold winter air, even if the walk to the war was short. As requested, the car was a newer model but one that would blend in with other city cars. It made finding you harder, but the windows couldn't be tinted.

"Here's to hoping I get a place with good acoustics." You muttered, starting the hatchback vehicle. Despite the cold winter weather, the road conditions were surprisingly okay, but then again, you were from a small town. Roads were shit in general.

You didn't bother playing music as you used the drive to find a parking garage and warm up your throat. Your vocal coach would have your head if you didn't warm-up, and then Judy would kill you even more.

You lucked out in a parking garage to a building that seemed to be a renovated warehouse with insanely cool windows. The metal was a dark shamrock green with a multitude of small rectangular glass between the metal. The panes swung open upwards in a fascinating design.

"Perfect." You muttered, signalling to turn into the parking garage that was easily accessed and without any trespassing signs. It was desolate, with cars parked here and there in the stalls.

A bright orange Subaru definitely took the cake as the most 'flashy' vehicle among the more nondescript ones. Not that it caught your attention when you lowered your windows marginally while simultaneously clipping the phone onto the dash. Immediately you double-checked for any apparent signs to your location before declaring it safe; with a tap of your finger, your Instagram live began.

"Welcome to another part of our Songbird Shenanigans. This time I'm in Oklahoma City for a two-day concert. The most requested song is Train Wreck by James Arthur."

Laying in the silence

Waiting for the sirens

Signs, any signs I'm alive still

I don't wanna lose it

I'm not getting through this

Hey, should I pray? should I pray

A natural instinct of closing your eyes as you got more into the music occurred. Your voice belted into the garage beautifully. Tons of comments appeared in the insta live chat of both supportive and haters.

username3: I suggested this song!!!

username88: Your voice goes perfectly with the song.

The song came to an end quicker than you would have liked since it was definitely one of your favourites to sing.

Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet

Pull me out of the train wreck

Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

No action was helped back from taking a swig of water from the reusable bottle you had brought along. Your eyes scoured the comments for more suggestions or things that stuck out.

"Why don't you include hints in the Songbirds?” You read out from the comment section with a smile barely held back, "Why would I? You all know that my windows are often down, and even the most unoriginal locations have tells. There's been a few people that have found me."

Username13: I think I know where you are (insert heart emoji)

          ↳Username63: username13 where?! How do you know?

          ↳Username13: jatp is streaming all day and the guys are in a car. Same background

Your eyes read the short but interesting conversation between the two different accounts on something called jatp? Whatever that was.

"Any other requests?" You asked, scrolling through the suggestions, "Sing something from jatp? I'm sorry, guys, but I have no clue what that is? Is it a movie? OH! It's a show. My bad."

The comment section was flooded, "Okay! Let me look up the lyrics and the melody!"

Three males: a blonde and two brunettes, walked between the rows of both occupied and unoccupied parking spots. The blonde wearing a black t-shirt with BEANS written across the chest and the brunette with short slicked-back hair crowded the middle guy. All three pairs of eyes watched the iPhone stream the television series.

"I call shotgun!" Owen spoke as the car in question came into view, "We gotta Livestream in the car again!"

"Your neighbour sucks, man." Charlie groaned, nudging Jeremy to unlock the car when the older man hesitated.

"If we're going live in the car, we should cover your license plate," Jeremy suggested to a resounding agreement. 

Charlie drove an obscenely vibrant coloured car that could be picked out quickly, so he didn't need any help in broadcasting his location. Owen grabbed the book from the passenger seat to angle it to lean against the plate.

"Done!" Owen called, racing back to climb into the car with his friends. The blonde-haired man bounced in his seat as the owner of the vehicle set up the screen.

In seconds, the streaming went from the app on the phone to the car's built-in screen to the boys' delight. In a moment of what some may call brilliance and others stupidity Owen went live on Instagram with Charlie joining him swiftly.

"Do you rem-"

Username76: Songbird chose a shitty location.

           ↳Username 39: Or we just got a Hail Mary hint

"Who is Songbird?" Charlie questioned, leaning closer to his friends in the front, catching a few comments.

The comments were mixed among other unrelated ones, but all had Songbird, Shenanigans or both words. The mystery was so intriguing the boys turned down the show to scour the comments for tidbits.

"Wait? Do you hear that?" Jeremy questioned, scanning the parking garage with his blue, green eyes. Soon his head was sticking out the window, "Someone is singing here."

Jeremy's hand turned the key of the car, "Is that-"

"Oh, no." Owen groaned, seeing that specific light appear in Charlie's eyes just as it did each time one of the songs came on. His pink beanie slid around his long blonde locks.

The two guys watched as the second oldest in their group did some kind of shimmy after pushing his phone to Jeremy. Jeremy's hand scrambled to get a grip on the phone as Charlie delved into his love for these songs. Sharing a look, Jeremy and Owen followed the Canadian to a car with a girl singing in the open hatchback car.

(Italics is you! Italics and bold is Charlie and you! Just bold is Charlie!)

When you were lonely, you needed a man.

Someone to lean on, well I understand

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your eyes remained shut as you neared the middle of the first verse. You completely stopped when a voice joined. Your e/c eyes met the twinkling brown of a handsome guy with the best voice you'd heard in a long time.

Nights can be empty, and nights can be cold

So you were looking for someone to hold

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Your lips parted in a grin as you grabbed the hand being offered to be pulled out of the car; on your way, your hand nudged your phone. Your phone was in a mount attached to the roof of the hatch. When you followed the stranger, the phone turned in perfect view. Your free hand turned to hover over your forehead, legs bending to feign a swoon.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Charlie beamed playing being shot by the arrow you pretended to shoot with a grin planted on your own lips. Charlie's hand flirted with your hip as you sashayed around his body from his left to his right. Hand grabbing a first full of his white with light teal with light pink design to tug him chest to chest.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

In turn, Charlie grabbed your wrist to twirl you into his arms straight into an impressive dip with the toe of your shoe pointed to the far wall. Your fingers just barely caressing the rough paved lot.

"I'm Charlie," Charlie murmured during the instrumental between the chorus and the second verse. Your eyes scanned his features with an expression you would later be glad was hidden from the lighting in the garage.

"Y/N." You breathed, clutching his shoulders still low in the dip, hoping subconsciously that your breath was still fresh.

"Wanna finish this?" Charlie spoke, searching your eyes with his own; up close, you could see his eyes were a mixture of colours. You only nodded before he continued singing to the music.

Men are the toys in the game that you play

When you get tired, you throw them away

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

"Are you seeing this?" Jeremy whispered to Owen as they watched Charlie literally sweep a stranger off her feet. Owen could only nod as Charlie went into the next verse, still dancing as if he was in Mamma Mia 2.

Falling in love with a woman like you

Happens so quickly, there's nothing to do

It's only natural

But why did it have to be me?

Charlie spun you back away from his body in a graceful twirl your choreographer would be incredibly proud of. The moves you made somehow made sense, with the movements matching the spontaneous duet-er.

I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

Once more in his arms dancing, he dipped you once more as you finished the end of the last chorus breathing heavily. The two strangers staring intensely into each other's eyes with an intense look that had tensions in the parking garage.

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me

"Intense." Owen chuckled as Charlie raised you back onto your feet with a matching grin to yours, "Oh! Look at the comments!"

Username24: Holy shit! They ooze chemistry!!

           ↳Username9: lol, okay Alex. 

"You aren't a viewer, are you?" You breathlessly laughed, taking a step away from Charlie as the music faded away.

The equally breathless spontaneous performing partner laughed as well, "I heard the song and hoped for the best."

"Are you Songbird?" Came a voice from a few feet away. Behind the once upon a time stranger stood two males approaching slowly.

"Oh!" You gasped, turning on your heel to see where your phone was pointing, "Well, that's convenient! One moment."

Jeremy and Owen flanked Charlie as you repositioned the phone at the moment with practised precision. You kept the three people out of the shot for privacy reasons.

"There is about ten minutes away from the end of this installment being over. For the first time since we started this series, I had a duet." You playfully laughed, looking over at the trio, "It's completely up to my sudden partner, but would you like to meet your audience?"

Charlie simply shrugged, "Sure. They've seen you be serenaded by a stranger."

A short laugh came from the three individuals around Charlie as he moved into the camera frame with a large smile. As soon as he was in sight, the comment section went nuts, furthering when Owen and Jeremy came into view.

Username1: DREAM COME TRUE

           ↳Username4: omg jatp in Songbird Shenanigans?? Life accomplished.

You couldn't hold back the snort at the comments you could read quickly as they disappeared after new ones. The three guys couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"I've never seen these guys before. If you could introduce yourselves." You asked the three guests, to which each sent a reassuring smile to your hesitance.

"I'm Charlie Gillespie, and these are my friends Owen Joyner and Jeremy Shada." Charlie took the liberty of introducing both his friends and himself. His heart fluttered at the adorable smile that had appeared on your pretty face.

"I'm afraid this concludes this edition of Songbird." You apologized to the camera as the time passed the allotted hour and a half. The comments turned sad before most of them started sending questions, "I'll let you know when I do another edition! Bye for now!"

Your finger clicked the end button firstly before clicking the save button for when you would upload it to your account later.

"Thank you for doing that. I'm Y/N." You chuckled, shaking hands with Jeremy and Owen, who each grinned back, "So what brought you guys to the parking garage with three phones and a live-action Animal Crossing shirt?"

Amusement was found on all four young adults in the parking garage, pinning a gaze at the material. You had to admit you kinda adored the shirt, or maybe the person wearing it was the reason.

"We're trying to get Julie and the Phantoms to number one again." Owen offered as he displayed the live still going on his phone. 

"That's a tv series. That was the second song I did on the live before Charlie joined the little concert." You told the boys all the while aware that thousands of people watched from the phone still streaming.

"The phone's about to die." Owen piped up, catching the single decimal number broadcasting the percentage. Without any prompting, he ended the live to save it solely for the little performance Charlie did.

"Did you save it?" Jeremy asked, lifting on his tiptoes to check the phone Owen had commanded for the last half hour. Like Owen, Jeremy wanted to save it solely for the stellar performance.

"So, how'd this series start?" Charlie questioned, pushing his hands into his pockets, ignoring the subtle glances of his best friend.

"I needed an escape from touring so many cities. It's reminiscent of the days before I was discovered. When my audience was the dials in my car and my family." You half-smiled, recalling all the times you had simply driven around to sing.

"You're a musician?"

"I am. I'm currently on tour for my second album. Every second or third city I'm performing in, I take the rented car to parking lots or garages to sing. I always have a prize for the fans that find me."

"Could I get your number?" Charlie hesitantly questioned. His features twisting with the manipulation of nerves.

His palms had gone clammy enough to inconspicuously wipe them on his legs; this version of Charlie was unfamiliar. Owen and Jeremy had only ever seen him as this bundle of joy and energy, not to say he didn't have his low days, instead of nervous. Owen slipped his fingers behind his back to cross them. He hoped his Canadian friend would get it.

"You don't leak mine, and I won't leak yours." Your e/c eyes twinkled with the brush of Charlie's warm fingers on your own. The new contact waiting for his information, "Maybe we can meet up with each other?"

"I'd love that."

Madison Square Garden, New York City, New York, Unspecified Date

The sounds of screams and heavy instruments blocked by the unique in-ears explicitly made for your ears alone. You'd heaved, catching a breath after such an energetic song you'd just performed for the sold-out venue. You just jogged to the side for a chug of water as your band switched instruments.

"Are you having fun tonight!" You asked the crowd who had fought tooth and nail for tickets. The crowd screamed back louder than before.

Selling out MSG for completely insane even after touring the country with your band three times. It was still a little jarring, going from a nobody with untapped potential to selling out concerts and very successful albums, in all honesty.

"That's what I like to hear!" You beamed, pushing a strand of your unruly hair away from your face. Your eyes momentarily cast to the side stage with the equipment hiding the crew, "I have a surprise for you. A couple years ago, I had a spontaneous duet partner during one of Songbird Shenanigans. I'd like to invite my fiance Charlie out here."

The crowd went nuts as Charlie wandered towards you from the side of the stage away from Owen, Jeremy and Madison. Charlie's hazel eyes scoured the oceans of your e/c eyes he got to wake up to each morning. Mostly when Julie and the Phantoms had been offered to open for you; to be frank, it was more of an unspoken co-headlining.

"Can we tell?" You asked, keeping the mic covered and away from your body. Your body bounced, waiting for the smile from him.

Charlie nodded, accepting the guitar from one of the crew members. It was a song you had written a few months back. Charlie had memorized the entire piece with the deep adoration he felt for it.

The couple perched on the bar stools brought to the middle of the stage with a secret smile. One that only they and their immediate family understood.

Three months ago, you had sat Charlie down in your home to play him a little song that changed everything.

Charlie placed the last bag of groceries on the counter when he felt arms wrap around his midsection. He immediately knew that it was you welcoming him home from a very short trip to the store. In a swift move, he had manoeuvred you to sit on the counter while he scooched himself between your legs.

"Hi." Charlie breathed, rising to press a kiss against the smooth skin of your cheek, leaving heat in its wake.

"I want your opinion on a song." You burst out, unable to refrain from showing him a song you had been secretly working on. The French Canadian was beyond intrigued by the sudden announcement from his fiance.

"Oh?"

"Come." You coaxed the man from the kitchen to the designated music room filled with instruments of all kinds—even a recent addition of a recording booth in the corner with high-end equipment.

You bypassed everything for the grand piano you didn't play as often as you wished to be able to. Your fingers brushed the ivory keys for a mere second before you began playing the melody.

I, I have known love before

I thought it would no more

Take on a new direction

Still, strange as it seems to be

It's truly new to me

That affection

The smile that grew across Charlie's expressive face was uncapturable from the best of the best; he adored your voice. He had a personal ringtone you had explicitly done for him a few months into the relationship.

I, I don't know what you do

You make me think that you

Will change my life forever

I, I'll always want you near

Give up on you, my dear

I will never

You thrill me, you delight me

You please me, you excite me

You're all that

I've been yearning for

I love you, I adore you

I lay my life before you

I only want you more and more

And finally it seems

My lonely days are through

I've been waiting for you

Charlie's frown, however, faltered as your face ever so slightly paled with trepidation coating your pretty irises. Your voice even quivered with nerves he'd never heard before, but it made sense from the third verse started.

I'll carry you all the way

And you will choose the day

When you're prepared to greet me

I'll be a good mum, I swear

You'll see how much I care

When you meet me

You finished the song with the last note drawn out ever so softly, freezing as the room went quiet once more. This song was definitely vulnerable and personal; you felt naked under Charlie's silent stare.

"You're really?" Charlie breathlessly chuckled, his wide eyes screaming disbelief.

After a few years together with an engagement ring on both of your fingers after you had both proposed to each other, with the relationship very serious, you two had decided to stop contraceptives and let everyone happen if it was too happen.

"Yeah." You laughed as he swept you off the bench into his arms, "We have little Birdie to prepare for."

"I love you so damn much." Charlie choked out, spinning the two of you around in his arms. The smile never fading as he drank in the special moment of learning you had created a life together.

PRESENT

"With the impending arrival of our child, I will be taking a break to prepare. Even though I wouldn't be performing, I will still do Songbird Shenanigans. I'll just have to up my game on staying as hidden as possible." You informed the audience as the song came to an end. 

Next thing you knew, you couldn't discern between the crowd and your friends now on stage screaming. You were able to feel Charlie's hand on your barely-there baby bump and his lips pressed against your temple.

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[qqueenofhades]

pel!ivan and fedyor went through a lot of ups and some downs from the end of pel and 2021 but they also celebrated 10 years together 🥳 i hope fedyor shoved cake into ivan’s face and also you know, im sure they were mushy like the saps they are

Ivan was supposed to be out of here ten minutes ago – actually, at this point, more like twenty – but the clients are still fucking talking, and if they keep it up much longer, he’s going to add it to the bill for “initial consultation.” Drew has a man-bun and unbearably hip black glasses, and works as a developer for some start-up app that he’s tried to convince Ivan to download at least twelve times. (What does the app actually do? Don’t know don’t care.) Mia is thin, blonde, waifish, smells like essential oils, and has been flitting around with her smartphone the entire time, getting in Ivan’s way as she snaps perfectly filtered pictures of the “developmental process” and posts them nonstop on Instagram. They both have a lot of opinions on how they want the energy of the space to feel, and a preapproved list of ethically sourced suppliers. They have paid some ludicrous price for this converted loft in Prospect Heights and chose the location for its proximity to the best farmer’s markets and hippie coffeehouses. Did Ivan die? Is this hell?

Somewhat ostentatiously, he looks at his watch. “Okay,” he announces. “I think that wraps up. You have work number, so – ”

“Oh, just one more thing!” Drew has recently read one (1) book on home design and thinks he’s an expert, so Ivan is forced to suffer his idiotic opinions about the kind of tile they want to use on the kitchen backsplash. Somehow, he manages not to roll his eyes directly out of his head, for which he should be commended. Ivan has discovered that the secret of successfully dealing with people, especially clients, is to smile and nod at everything they say, while mercilessly mocking them in your head. Amazing, the things you learn as a small-business owner in Brooklyn in the year of our lord 2021. Especially when it comes to renovating overpriced tiny gentrified apartments for insufferable techno-douchebags and their vapid influencer girlfriends. And people think Ivan might want to live like this more often? No fucking thank you.

Finally (it’s another ten minutes after that, this is definitely going on the bill), they more or less wrap up, except for the fact that Mia then wants a picture with the three of them. “It’s just so important to us that we’re supporting the immigrant community,” she explains earnestly. “After all, being open, tolerant, learning from our neighbors, people who are different from us, that’s what life is all about. We just love that you’re foreign. The energy feels so right, you know?”

Ivan wonders whether to inform her that he has lived in this country for eight years and been a full citizen (passport and voting rights and everything) for three, then decides that this would venture into sharing-personal-information territory and he is having none of it. His English has improved to the point where he can handle almost all business transactions by himself, but feigning incomprehension can sometimes get him out of them when they turn really stupid. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option here, and so he diligently leans into the frame, smiling half an inch, while Mia snaps a picture of “us and our adorable Russian contractor!!” Ivan informs her of the correct flag emoji to add to the filter, decides that he’s going to add an extra fifty bucks just for that, and finally, finally, makes his escape.

It’s rush hour, and the Q is crammed as Ivan heads into midtown. So much for social distancing and not getting too close to anyone, which is the only thing from the pandemic that he wouldn’t mind keeping. Only about half the crowd is wearing masks, including him, and so he gets off at Times Square, dodges the latest lunatic standing on a soapbox and shouting about how it is all a hoax, and walks several blocks uptown, just to get some space. He finally reaches the restaurant, where he has to flash his vaccination card to get inside (Ivan, who remains Russian to the marrow of his bones, is a little irked that he couldn’t get Sputnik here and had to settle for Pfizer) and climbs up to the open-air rooftop terrace. It is only when he spots his husband, waiting at a table that overlooks the glittering evening lights of the city, when Ivan pulls off his mask and allows himself to properly smile. “Sorry I’m late,” he says. “They are the worst.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Fedyor musters a smile in return, though his eyes look permanently tired these days and Ivan would bet that he’s been scrolling through more depressing emails on his phone. Technically Fedyor is on a two-month sabbatical from work, but he can’t stop himself, and Ivan has had to pry it from his fingers on a number of occasions. “But you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Ivan nods stoutly, they are furnished with the drinks and appetizers list, and when the waiter asks if there’s any special occasion tonight, tell him that they are celebrating their ten-year anniversary, albeit somewhat late. This was supposed to happen last spring, but obviously, nobody in New York was going out to a restaurant in the early months of 2020, and Ivan himself had barely gotten home from the hospital and still could be knocked over in a strong breeze. They’re celebrating a lot of things tonight, in other words, even if it’s now been eleven years, not ten, since the day Ivan marched into a Red Square coffee shop and engaged in – well, Fedyor has made sure to inform him that the first date didn’t go nearly as well as Ivan always thought it did. But it worked, didn’t it? Here they are, wedding bands on their fingers, a couple of successful American urban professionals who have built a nice life for themselves and are, if anything, even more madly in love than they were when this whole nutty adventure together first began. So really, if you ask Ivan Sakharov Kaminsky, it went just fine after all.

The waiter congratulates them, gives them two drinks for the price of one, and they both relax and start to talk, fully at ease in the way they only are in each other’s company. Ivan does his Mia impression in an extremely convincing falsetto (after all, [NAME REDACTED] has practice at this) and Fedyor almost dies laughing. They hold hands on the table – no need to hold them under the table – and gaze into each other’s eyes all they want, order dinner and dessert, and take a long time about it. They raise several toasts to this, to them, to ten years, may there be many more. Ivan pays the bill, his treat, and they walk slowly back to Times Square, hand-in-hand, Fedyor’s head nestled on Ivan’s shoulder. It’s New York. Nobody cares.

They ride the Q home, in all its smelly, secondhand glory, taking an hour to bang out to Brighton Beach and descending the elevated stairs into the familiar down-at-heel comfort of their Russian-American neighborhood, neon Cyrillic signs glowing in windows and somebody shouting about how if Sergei ever shows his face here again, she is going to cut his dick off. Ivan and Fedyor look at each other and snort, resisting the urge to shout up and ask what exactly Sergei did, and walk a few more minutes to their building. They climb up three flights of stairs to their apartment, unlock the door and the deadbolt, and step inside.

The instant they are home, Rasputin shoots out of nowhere, yowling as if he has been neglected for months, and curls himself around Ivan’s ankles (he is still liable to give Fedyor evil looks when he feels that this interloper has been stealing his human too often). Ivan sighs, trudges to the kitchen, points out to Rasputin that his food bowl is still half full, gets a wounded look in return, and adds an extra scoopful. Once the cat is happily snarfing down, Fedyor pulls Ivan by the hand, into the dim living room with its blowing curtains. “Come here, my love,” he says. “Hold me.”

Ivan does as ordered, because it’s his favorite thing in the world: cuddling Fedyor close, nothing but the two of them in all of time and space, swaying slowly in the blue hour with fingers and arms and hearts entwined. Ivan kisses Fedyor’s temple, and Fedyor nestles even closer, melted into his embrace. “I love you, Vanya,” he mumbles against Ivan’s collarbone. “I love you so much. I love you more than anything in the world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Fedya.” Ivan leans down and kisses him properly, sweet and slow and lingering, as they continue to waltz in stately time to a music that nobody except the two of them can hear. “I’m still not always sure why you married me, but I am very glad you did.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue vi. finale

the day of

Warnings: non/dub con sex (intercourse, oral)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Things are laid out for the reader.

Note: So this is the last part of the epilogue. I’m not gonna promise a sequel but I will leave the possibility open in the future. Maybe we’ll see our reader again somewhere down the road. But to all those who have read and supported this series, thank you. I appreciate you and I love you. You guys don’t realize how much you mean. I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog or like (feel free to leave your thoughts in a reply if you don’t wanna reblog)!

...

On Wednesday, you sat your midterm in the morning and if it wasn’t for your still tender ass, it would’ve been perfect. You walked out confident. You were one of the first to finish and that allotted you a whole hour and a half between the exam and your next class. 

You took out your phone, on airplane mode for the test, and flipped it back into service. Several messages littered your inbox, all from one man. Steve texted last night after your meeting with Bucky but hadn’t shown up to your relief. For once, his business kept him from you. 

You scrolled through the bubbles: ‘good luck, sweetie,’ ‘call me when your done’, etc. His impatience was obvious even though he’d known you wouldn’t see til now. You headed for the cafe below the library and ordered your usual before you hit call.

You sat in the corner as the steam rose from the paper cup and the other end picked up almost immediately. “Uh, hey,” You turned and looked out the window onto campus. The trees were barren and the leaves dried and dying. The city’s first snow was imminent.

“Hey, sweetie,” You could hear him moving around as he spoke. “How was the exam?”

“Good, good,” You bent a leg over the other and sat nervously on the edge of your chair. “I think, at least.”

“Great. You got classes too?” He asked and you rubbed your chin. Should you mention Bucky and the evening appointment. Let him know that you’d been sussed out.

“Till five,” You answered and pushed back your dread. “Mostly review. The rest of my midterms are next week.”

“Well, you got early classes tomorrow?” He prodded. 

“Why do you ask?” You glanced around and blew over the top of your cup.

“Why do you think?” You could hear his smirk. “I’ve got dinner with Kylie tonight. Should be done by eight. I thought maybe you’d wanna meet up after.”

“Oh…” You tapped your fingers on the side of the cup. “I don’t know…” It felt wrong, sneaking in after a visit from his daughter; your friend. “Maybe I should just have a quiet night in.”

“It’s your call but I leave Friday morning. It might be our last chance.” He sounded disappointed despite his nonchalant words.

“Hmm,” You thought and silence buzzed on the line. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“When you leave, is this all...over?” You had to force the last word out. It didn’t want to rise though you knew it needed to.

He laughed softly. It was comforting, not mocking. “Sweetie, we’ll talk about all that tonight. So, how about I pick you up at nine?”

You sat back and swung your leg nervously. “Okay, nine,” You acquiesced. 

“See ya then, sweetie,” He replied smugly. “Oh, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” Your heart fluttered. You wondered for a moment if Bucky had confronted him too. You braced the table and held your breath.

“Check your mailbox.” He said. “And wear something nice.”

“O-okay,” You stuttered as you exhaled, your chest ready to burst. “I’ll see you at nine.”

The line clicked and you set your phone face down beside your coffee. You sat back and crossed your arms. This was all getting very complicated. And messy.

-

Your classes passed slowly. You scribbled down the notes for your review and tried not to let your mind wander. As you walked across campus and headed for the subway, your phone vibrated. You huffed and pulled it out as you walked blindly by the buildings.

‘You free tonight, girl. Party at 10.’ Kylie’s message blinked at you. You stopped and once more a storm of nerves swept over you. Your finger hovered over the screen as you tried to muster your latest lie. ‘Sorry. Studying tonight. Maybe this weekend.’ Her response was quick; terse. ‘Boo’.

As you stood in the middle of campus, the last few days mounted on your shoulders. What were you doing? You were sneaking around like some character on an HBO serial. You should’ve been on your way home to study and not to wait around for you illicit lover. Or thinking about the night you’d just spent with your professor.

You broke from your shameful trance and rushed past the other students. You didn’t want to wait around for the third train of the hour. You reached the platform just as the train was ready to close its doors. You clung to the bar as it sped along the tunnels and counted the stops. 

You had more than enough time to eat before your little rendezvous. Your building was grim as you walked up to it. You almost forgot to stop at your mailbox as you entered and you found a small black box inside. You took it and the monthly university newsletter and head up to your bachelor.

You shoved a thin crust in the oven and sat on your bed as you streamed to your small television. You waited for the timer to tick down and opened the small black box. You rolled your eyes as you pulled out the folded lace. Sheer white with floral embroidery; it offered little cover, if any. The panties were high-waisted and the bra thinly strapped. Steve had more than just another meet-up in mind.

You texted him as you ate your pizza. ‘Really?’ He replied with a winky emoji and nothing else. You finished your dinner, washed your face and freshened your hair. You wore a simple. long-sleeved dress over the lingerie; a blush coloured sheath you still had the tags on. Your legs would be cold but you didn’t expect to be outside much.

As time wore on, your anxiety piqued. You paced in your wedged boots. Second thoughts and eager expectations mingled into a maelstrom inside of you. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand and you unplugged it as the clock read 9:07. The singular text greeted you. ‘Here.’

You took a breath and grabbed your plain black coat and buttoned it up to your chin. Your purse hung from your elbow as you locked the door behind you and tripped down the stairs two at a time. You nearly fell on your face as you emerged onto the crooked walkway and Steve’s rover loomed along the curb.

You opened the door and slipped inside. “Hey,” You said breathily as you buckled up. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. When you were strapped in he grabbed your chin and pressed his lips to yours. He was eager.

“Hey,” He pulled away and looked out on the street. “You look nice, sweetie.”

You smiled and thanked him quietly as he pulled out. 

“Did you eat?” He asked as he stared at the road.

“Yes, I did, dad,” You said mockingly but your voice cracked and died in a deathly silence. 

He stopped at a sign and looked over at you. You shyly glanced over and he smiled the moment your eyes met. “I’d prefer daddy, but whatever you like, sweetie.” Your cheeks burned as he chuckled and you played nervously with a button on your coat.

“I didn’t mean too…” You muttered.

“It was funny.” He assured you as he turned his attention back to driving. “Cute.”

You nodded and kept quiet, afraid of another slip. Freud would be all too excited to be a passenger on this ride. You tilted your head as he turned away from downtown; away from his hotel.

“Where are we going?” You asked meekly.

“It’s a surprise,” He said coyly. “Are you wearing it?”

“Y-yes.” You crossed your arms and kept track of each turn in your head.

When he stopped, you looked up at the high-rise and blinked in confusion. Your apartment was little more than a closet compared to the penthouses housed in this upscale building. You still had no idea what was going on. 

Steve got out and came around to open your door as you gaped. Your heels wobbled beneath you as you stepped out and he typed on his phone with one hand as he offered you his other. He tucked his phone away and led you up the broad steps of the building and past the tall fountain that crested the lawn.

“Steve...?” Your eyes lit up as you took in the extravagance. Well, compared to your digs.

“I told you, it’s a surprise, sweetie.” He let go of your hand and opened the front door for you. 

He was past you in an instant and rang the buzzer with the touch pad. Only a long buzz sounded in response and he opened the next door. You were fidgety in the elevator. The ascent was silent as you peeked over at Steve several times. Only a knowing smirk in response; devious.

As the doors opened, you stepped out into the single floor penthouse. The dark hardwood floors were pristine and polished and the large living room was bookmarked between a tall brick fireplace and a set of glass shelves decorated with degrees, awards, and a menagerie of ornaments.

You stopped as Steve closed the elevator lock up behind you. You turned back to him and shook your head in confusion. He neared and framed your face with his hands as he leaned in to kiss you. 

“Be good, sweetie.” He kissed you again and stood straight. He smiled over your head and you sensed another.

“Why don’t you take off your coats and settle in?” Bucky asked and his blue eyes flicked towards you. “You want anything from the bar?”

You looked between them. Your heartbeat had doubled and you felt light headed. “What’s going on?”

“We talked,” He said cryptically. “It’s all good, sweetie.”

He unbuttoned your coat for you as you stared at him dumbly. He slipped it down your arms and you snapped out of your trance. You watched him hang your coat next to his and turned back to the room. Bucky was behind the bar with three glasses set out.

“So, what’s it gonna be? Gin, scotch, I’ve got some wine.” He offered.

“I…” Steve nudged you and you edge into the living room. Steve passed you and sat on the chaise, his hand patted the space beside him. “Gin and ice is fine, thank you.”

You sat beside Steve and clasped your hands together. You wondered if alcohol was a wise decision but it would help with your nerves. Your mind began to run wild with possibilities. Whatever they had planned couldn’t just be talking.

Steve’s hand went to your lower back as Bucky neared with the glasses. He handed you one and Steve another, and sat with his own on the other side of you. You were trapped between the two men on the chaise. You gulped down half the drink and crossed your legs.

“Slow down, baby, it’s gonna be a long night,” Bucky grinned and sipped from his own glass. “Did you talk to her?”

“I figured there wasn’t much to say,” Steve shrugged. “You want both of us, don’t you, sweetie?”

Your eyes threatened to pop out of your head as you glanced between them. You drained the last of your gin and bent over to set it on the table. “Uh, yeah, I…” You blinked and focused on the ice, “Well, I mean...I…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow.” Steve assured you. “We just wanna get this all sorted out before I leave. When I’m gone, Bucky will look after you.”

Bucky placed his glass beside yours, the dark alcohol barely touched. His hand went to your thigh and Steve rubbed your back soothingly. You were tempted to drink Bucky’s whiskey for him. Steve took another swig and added a third tumbler to the table. He grabbed your other thigh and both men squeezed as they leaned closer.

“Why don’t you show Bucky your little surprise?” Steve purred.

You tilted your head, confused at first, and Steve’s fingers ran up your back. The lingerie. You nodded and stood, glad to be free of their touch. You looked down at your body and slowly turned to face them. You bent to unzip your scuffed wedges and stepped out of them. Your dress felt thinner as you lifted your eyes to them. Steve nodded for you to go on.

You reached back and tugged down your zipper. As the dress loosened you paused and both men watched eagerly. What were you doing? Six months ago, you were a reticent virgin and now you were in some sordid ritual with these two men. 

The heat of their gaze nipped at your doubts and you pulled the zipper down entirely. You let the sleeves fall down your arms and the swish of the skirts as the dress fell to your feet was your white flag. It was done. There was no turning back.

You dared to look at them. Steve grinned and Bucky’s brows shot up. They both shifted on the chaise and you kept your hands to your sides, nervously waiting for the next move.

“It’s all you,” Steve intoned as he stood. He brushed past you, his hand tickled your thigh and he pinched your ass. You watched as he crossed the room and sat on the couch opposite. He sank into the cushion and draped his arm along the back. “Take your time.”

Bucky’s hand on yours drew you back to him. He pulled you closer until you stood between his knees. You looked down at him as his hands explored your body. He cupped your tits through the sheer fabric, your nipples hardened against his palm. He tickled along your waist and hips and snaked around to squeeze your ass.

“Sit down,” He nodded beside him.

You did as he said without thinking. He turned to you and brought his hand up behind your neck. He kissed you forcefully and pushed his hand between your thighs. You opened your mouth to his as he devoured you and tucked your fingers beneath his belt. He groaned as you clung to the top of his pants.

He pulled your legs apart and dragged his fingers along the crotch of your pants. You moaned and he slid his fingers beneath the fabric. He pushed between your folds and circled your clit. You parted and gasped at the sudden tingle.

He slipped from the chaise and to his knees. He came up between your legs and continued to play with you. He hooked his fingers under the panties and pulled them aside as he replaced his hand with his mouth. You were entranced by the sight of him knelt before you. His dark hair was streaked with silver but thick. You leaned back on your hands as he teased you with his tongue.

Your eyes were drawn to the other side of the room. Steve hadn’t moved. His eyes sparkled as he watched intently. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back as you sank into Bucky. He licked and suckled as his hand crawled along your thigh. He traced around your entrance and shoved two fingers inside. Your legs tensed and your nails dug into the cushion.

He curled his fingers and you moaned louder. His tongue never stopped as he started to move his hand. The last of your insecurity disappeared and you could think of was the whirlwind of nerves spiraling around your core. You latched onto the back of Bucky’s head and pushed him deeper as you beckoned your climax closer. He hummed as his tongue lured you onward until you were shaking and sputtering in unyielding ecstasy.

He didn't stop until you were out of breath and mewling. He lifted his head and let your panties go. "Lay down, baby."

You pulled your legs up and spread out on the chaise as you came down from your high. Bucky stood and undressed as his eyes roved your body. He was thicker than Steve, his stomach not as toned but still in good shape. You realized you'd never seen him naked despite your lurid meetings.

He climbed up with you, again between your legs. He grabbed your legs and pulled them up to rest against his chest. Next he gripped you hips and dragged you down the chaise. His tip pressed against you and slipped between your folds.

He entered you and let out a long breath. You whined as he bottomed out. A flood of relief flowed through you and you reached back to claw the end of the chaise.

As he began to thrust, the chaise groaned and world seemed to quake beneath you. Each time he rocked his hips, he sped up just a little; faster, deeper. Your moans kept time with him and your voice rose in a symphony.

Your eyes rolled back and Bucky held your ankles against his shoulders as he hammered into you. Your back arched and you growled like an animal in heat. Your voice, his, the sound of your flesh together, drove you wild and bloomed in a paralysing orgasm.

Bucky's hand slipped down to your thighs and pushed your legs higher. He pounded into you and grunted louder and louder as he neared his peak. You egged him on as you reached around your hip to touch his thigh. 

He let go of your legs and pinned your hands beside your head as he raised himself on his knees. He fucked you harder as he held you to the plush cushion and you whimpered as another explosion shook your core. 

He sank into you with drawn out thrusts and snarled. He pulled out and released your wrists. His cum shot out along your pelvis and along your pussy. He spread it between your folds with his cock and leaned back on his heels. Satisfied.

"Bring her over here," Steve's voice scared you. You'd forgotten he was there. 

Bucky, panting and sweaty, took your hand and pulled you off the chaise. You followed him blindly, your head in a spin. Steve stood too, as methodical in undressing as Bucky. He smirked as Bucky sat you down and you slumped onto your side.

Bucky backed away as Steve lowered himself onto the couch. He pulled your leg up as he slid between you and the back of the couch. He hooked his thick arm under you and draped your leg over his. He played with your thrumming clit before he lined himself up with your entrance.

He impaled you slowly. He breath whisked across your cheek and he continued to play with your bud as he moved inside you. 

"She was a virgin, you know that?" He said to Bucky as he rocked his hips. "When we met. She's still tight, isn't she?" He nibbled your ear and growled as Bucky's shadow loomed in your peripheral.

"A quick learner," Bucky remarked. 

You barely heard their little aside. You were too bound up in this bliss to care. That voice in the back of your head was smothered by that louder one which had taken over of late. 

Who cared if they were using you, you were using them too. You enjoyed it just as much and why shouldn't you? Sex was sex and you were only human.

You lifted your head as Bucky neared and sat on the other end of the couch. He shifted so that your head was in his lap as Steve continued to fuck you. He turned your head and forced your mouth around his cock. He was still a little soft but quickly stiffened as you began to bob your head.

You found it harder to keep your mouth working as Steve's fingers and cock stoked your core. Bucky held the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away. You hummed around his cock and squeaked as you came in a series of twitches.

Steve turned you onto your stomach as Bucky stayed in your mouth. Steve pinned your legs with his thighs as he pounded into you and the cushions bounced under you. Their grunts were deep and rhythmic. Hypnotic, even.

"Ah, fuck, sweetie, I'm gonna cum," Steve growled. "Shit." 

He slammed into you one last time before he pulled out. He came on your pussy and added to the mess you'd become. Bucky didn't stop, didn't waver as he guided your mouth up and down his length. You pushed yourself up just a little and tended to him fervently.

"Shit," Bucky swore and caressed the top of your head. "I'm gonna cum all over your face, baby. Come on."

He tugged on your hair and you removed your mouth with a pop. You stroked him with your hand and his cum spurted out along your lips and cheeks and dribbled down your chin.

You let go, out of breath, and Steve pulled you up by your arm and let you pant against the couch. You were shaky, numb but oversensitive, your vision hazy and yet vivid. You tasted Bucky's salty cum and your fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slickness there.

"Do you understand, sweetie?" Steve spoke softly as he pushed your hair back and kissed your temple. "When I leave, Bucky will take care of everything you need. Can you be a good girl for him?"

You nodded dully and your eyes lolled over to look at Bucky as he leaned back and sighed. Steve's hand fell, traced the line of your collar bone, cupped your tit, and walked along your stomach to the top of your vee.

"You want another drink, sweetie?" He coaxed. "A little break?"

You blinked and licked your lips, the cool cum was sticky. You placed your hand on Steve's and pushed it between your legs. "I don't need a break."

[jhe-thecreative-blog]

A Selfless Love

It laid there. It was faced up on the bed, the screen easily visible. I placed it far away from me so that I could take my mind off the situation. I was sitting at the head of my bed attempting to read Paulo Coelho’s By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept. It was ironic for me to be even reading the book, but I couldn’t help it. It was such a beautiful story. A story of love and all that comes with it. It made me think of my own relationship. It was the complete opposite of Pilar and her soulmate. They were selfless, we were selfish – well, I was selfish.

The screen lit up, and I peeked over my book to see what or who it was. You’re supposed to be giving the silent treatment, I told myself. I am the poster child for lack of self-discipline. I placed the novel down and traveled to the foot of the bed. No new text. The notification was just an email blast from Steve Madden. 60% holiday sale. Was this a sign? Was the universe telling me to heal with heels? I exited out of the email, and went into my Messages app. He was my most recent conversation. I hated Apple sometimes for the way they let you preview the last text. I only wanted to see his name, Jason, with the lipstick stain emoji. Instead, what stood out was the last text he wrote: 

Whatever, man. Do what you want.

That was sent at 10:14 a.m., yesterday. I looked at the time at the top of my screen, it was 2:26 in the afternoon. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon at that. I looked outside my window to see the palm trees bathing in the Sunny South Florida. The tropical red hibiscus flowers danced along with the wind. Jason and I had plans to go scuba diving in Naples. That, for sure, wasn’t happening. I tossed my phone on the floor. Out of sight, out of mind, I told myself. I scooted back to my original location of the bed, picked up my novel, and attempted to get lost with Pilar and her childhood lover in the mountains of the Pyrenees. I was able to get through a few pages. I envisioned Jason and I in the place of Pilar and her lover. We were sitting at a café, having wine and cheese while laughing and being completely honest and open with each other.

I began to feel a knot in my throat, my eyes were beginning to flood with tears. I wanted this for our relationship, but how? I couldn’t even be open and honest with him. I envisioned a fairy tale love, just like any other girl would. I began to wonder what was exactly stopping me from that. Jason loved me, without a doubt. I never had to question his commitment to me. He was perfect. I am stubborn. Jason landed a job across the country in Los Angeles. We’ve talked about moving out of Atlanta. It felt good to escape the realties. Jason was a screenwriter and was hired to be in the writer’s room of an upcoming television series. I, on the other hand, was a teacher. He argued that I can teach anywhere, though this was true, the thought of leaving everything behind was terrifying. So when I hesitated on saying ‘yes’, he took it as a hard ‘no’. I choked. My brain couldn’t compute fast enough to give an answer on demand.

I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone to call or text him. Our argument fueled so much that we started to bring things up from the past. Who sacrificed more for who, who had to pay for who when the other didn’t have a job, so on and so forth. I hated it. I hated myself for purging old history because this was his passion. Ever since we were kids, living across the street for each other, he would pretend he’s shooting a movie. I was always his leading lady. I wanted this for him, I did, but I wanted this for him in Atlanta. I didn’t want to let go of home.

Often, I would find myself jealous of him. He was so courageous and only the courageous lived out their dreams. I settled to be a kindergarten teacher. I didn’t choose that for my life, but I just dealt with the hand I was given. As a young girl, I wanted to sing. I’ve always loved music. I played the piano up until college. Jason had even tried to tie in my musical talents with film. “You can be a music composer for films,” he would tell me. Always optimistic, that’s what I loved most about him. I could never match it. I was so afraid of failing that I just gave up. My parents always wanted me to have a job with some security. If I told them that I wanted to pursue music, they would hound me with a slew of questions. Do you have benefits? PTO? 401k? Life insurance? Vacation days? Pension?

I kept playing yesterday over in my head. From waking up to loving on each other, to me screaming, and him walking out. He’s never been out this long. Usually, he’s back home, we make up, and go back to the regular us. In By the River Piedra, her mate teaches her about saying goodbye to The Other. The Other is your negative, fearful self. The self that is blocking you from your true destiny. The Other will lead you to a life of mediocracy and loneliness. The Other is who I want to no longer be.  I sat on the edge of my bed. My idle mind began to spiral. Is he going to break up with me? Is this it? Six years down the drain? Why can’t he just stay? Why should he? If it was the other way around, would I stay for love or follow my dreams? In all fairness, why should he be held back? Why should my fears hold him back? My fears on my own. Why did I project it on him? He didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve him.

I got off my bed and headed to the kitchen. Traces of him rested across the counter. His half-empty cup of orange juice laid there. The emotions began to pour over me. I pictured the morning before in my head. We were cooking breakfast together and talking about the future. He was talking about he will be a big screenwriter turned director, and I was speaking about going back to school for my Master’s in Education Leadership. The conversation then switched to me pursuing music, as a hobby, and maybe leading it to be a potential career. I dismissed it, of course. He went on and on about using the talents god gave us; my life was mirroring Pilar and her lover. From my parents, I had to listen to lectures about job security. From Jason, he wanted me to follow my dreams. My fears were so in control, that I became annoyed anytime Jason brought it up. One time, I even told him that he’s just lucky that he’s able to actually be in a career that he loves. He began to preach about it just having faith and listening to God. I realized that I was being selfish, not with him, but with myself. I was ungrateful and so blind to my blessings. I had a man who loves me so much that he wanted me to follow my dreams so I could be happy. Not just content, but filled with joy. I took that for granted.

I heard my phone ring from the bedroom. I dropped the sudsy cups I was washing in the sink and ran before it went to voicemail. It was an unknown number that I’ve seen before. Bill collectors, I rolled my eyes. After the disappointing phone call, I plopped down on the bed. My body felt weak. My brain was fried. I was depressed. I felt like I’ve lost everything, thanks to The Other. Why can’t I be like Pilar? Why am I comparing myself to a fictional character? I tried to picture myself in Los Angeles. I pictured myself in a beautiful high-rise condo. Jason at the breakfast table, looking out at the view of the city, writing, sipping his coffee—black. I was at my beautiful grand piano that sat in the dining area. We are working on Jason’s first feature film, his directorial debut. I was his composer. I felt myself smile. I could be happy in my love life and in my soul. But what if it doesn’t work out, The Other popped in my mind and depression came back. I sat up and headed towards my bathroom. Showering helped me think.

Another piece of Jason laid on the bathroom floor— his jeans. I cracked a smile. Normally, I would’ve been annoyed at the fact that he completely missed the hamper, but I loved him despite it.  I picked up the pair of jeans and something fell out of his pocket and crashed down on the top of my foot. It hurt like hell. I instantly dropped the jeans to bend over and caress the pain from my foot. I looked over to see what had fell out of the pocket.  And there it was. A square, blue, velvety box. The box. The box that every girl dreams of being presented with. My heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped inflating. The world was still. I’m not sure how I managed to direct my hand to the box, but I picked it up and opened it. The symbol of eternity stared at me. A beautiful princess-cut diamond smiled at me. It managed to twinkle brighter than our dull bathroom lights.

The man who I was madly in love with found me worthy of being his eternity. His partner in life. And here I am, letting fear rip us apart. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve him. I worried about the things that haven’t happened. Jason always said faith and The Universe brought us together. It went over my head because my faith in God diminished due to past relationships.

I ran through the timeline of our relationship from day one. From meeting randomly at the train station because my lesson plans blew away, and him running across the street to pick them up. Even as a stranger, he made my day. He always knew the right things to say when I felt defeated, when I wasn’t sure of myself. He wanted me happy, not just with him, but happy within myself. He’s asked nothing from me, yet given me all of him. And here I was, rejecting the one thing he wanted, my support. I was so ashamed of myself. I felt my soul began to purge. I thought about how my actions are just a projection of my own issues; and how Jason has been there trying to help me through. Yet, he still was going to propose. That meant he had faith in me. So I should be able to have faith in us?

After five minutes of my purge, I picked myself up from the bathroom floor. I needed to tell him that I love him and that I was ready to follow. Not because of the ring, but because I loved him. I headed back to the room and I grabbed my phone; there was a text message from Jason: 

I hate this. Let’s talk.

My heart felt as though it had woken up, I felt a smile on my face. I texted back:

When should I put in my two weeks?

Sohni Mahiwal Love by Ricky Ajnoha