#imagine falling for this blonde for 7 years only to be smashed in the face with the reality of having the dude (tm)

[nightmanatee]

forgetting clara fucked up the doctor so much. so much. like twelve got the memories of her after at least a century of almost completely forgetting of clara's existence so that thirteen could never let yaz forget her. never let yaz see how she forgets herself (when becoming a complete stranger). and to let her remember THIS doctor. her doctor.

[megalony]

Family of six- Part 3

Here is the latest part of my Murderer! Ben Hardy series, I hope you will all enjoy it feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​

Series taglist: @writeroutoftime​

Series masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have a son together and are pregnant again but things take a worrisome turn when (Y/n) develops severe morning sickness and they find out they’re having triplets.

Enjoy.

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"Daddy?"

At the sound of Billy's confused and seemingly scared voice, Ben felt his skin prickling with goose bumps and he felt a shiver running down his spine. Ben hardly ever had (Y/n) ringing him when he was at work and the only time Ben had Billy on the phone was when he was away and (Y/n) rang so Billy could talk to him. But (Y/n) always talked to Ben first before she handed the phone over to Billy and right now the five year old sounded scared or in the very least unsettled about something and that was unsettling Ben.

"Buddy, everything okay? Why are you ringing me?" Ben leaned his hips back against the desk behind him as he crossed his free arm over his chest. He was meant to be going home in two hours anyway to check on his family and make sure they were okay. Something had to be wrong if Billy was ringing Ben who presumed (Y/n) was asking Billy to call because something had happened.

"Mummy's not very well, you said when she's ill you come home to look after her."

There was still something in Billy's voice that was putting Ben on edge, it was the small catch in his son's voice like he felt like crying but was trying very hard to hold himself together. His voice was wavering and Ben could already imagine the expression on his son's face.

"Did your mum ask you to ring me, is she being sick again?"

"She was sick in bed, now she's asleep in bathroom and won't get up." The moment Ben managed to comprehend what Billy had said he felt his blood running cold and his breath caught in his lungs.

"What? Buddy are you sure she's asleep, she's not moving or mumbling anything at all?" Ben pushed himself off the desk as he felt his heart beating out of his chest. He had booked an appointment at the hospital for tomorrow but clearly that hadn't been soon enough because (Y/n) needed help now. Ben knew that Billy wouldn't understand the difference between (Y/n) being asleep and her falling unconscious and Ben had a suspicion that she was unconscious in the bathroom.

Ben bit his lip as he moved round the desk to find his keys because there was no way he could stay now Billy had said that. He had to get home to (Y/n) and Billy.

"I moved her arm but she isn't awake."

"Okay, can you tell me how long your mum's been asleep in the bathroom?" Ben balanced his phone between his shoulder and his ear to give him chance to lock his office door. The longer (Y/n) had been unconscious the worse the situation would be and the quicker Ben would have to speed to get home to them both.

"Not long... mummy was crying and said she would call you but she fell asleep, are you coming home to look after her now? She won't wake up." The fear in Billy's voice showed that he knew (Y/n) hadn't been so tired that she simply fell asleep in the bathroom. He knew she wasn't well and that her being asleep on the bathroom floor wasn't good nor was it normal and he could sense the frustration and panic in Ben's voice. It was surprising but also relieving to Ben that Billy wasn't sobbing or breathless with panic right now but that simply told Ben that his son couldn't quite grasp or understand the situation even if he knew it was bad.

"I'm on my way home now to come look after you both I won't be long I swear. Buddy I need you to sit and wait with your mum until I get there to make sure she's okay. How is she sleeping, is she on her back?"

Billy held (Y/n)'s phone to his ear with both hands but he turned his head so he could look at (Y/n). He didn't want to leave her just in case she woke up and didn't know where he was or she felt sick, if he stayed here he could tell her that Ben was on the phone so she could talk to him. He assessed the way (Y/n) was laying, she was on her right side with her knees slightly curled up and her left arm was bent oddly and resting in front of her face. Billy had decided to sit just in front of her knees so he was close by since (Y/n) was slumped in front of the toilet rather close to the bath.

"No... mummy's sleeping on her side in front of the toilet."

"Good, I know she's sleeping but she might wake up and be sick cause she isn't well so if she is sick, I just need you to keep her head leaning forward and don't let her lay on her back. Just try and keep her how she is, can you do that for me?"

"O-okay."

Ben didn't want to worry or alarm Billy anymore than he already was but Ben needed to make sure that if (Y/n) were to be sick before he got back, she wouldn't choke. If she was on her back she would choke if she were sick but being on her side would let her airways stay open.

"Good lad, I'll be home in ten minutes so you just sit with your mum until I get there."

"Okay daddy."

Ben had never been more thankful that the club was close to home because if it was any further away and something happened now to (Y/n) or Billy then Ben might not get there in time. The keys in Ben's hands dug uncomfortably into his palm until he was sure that the jagged edge was cutting through the cracked skin but he didn't care. The pain kept his mind in focus and made him feel like he had control over something when everything else was out of his hands.

When Ben reached reception he turned to the desk on his left and placed his hands down on the counter. But the way his hands slammed down on the counter made an echo vibrate off the walls along with the smashing sound of the keys in his palm against the wood. Ben's expression was one that every worker knew meant to stay out of his path or do everything in their power to make things how he liked so he wouldn't unleash his wrath.

But James who was sat behind the counter didn't know what had happened to make Ben look so demanding yet fierce and he had no idea what he could do or was supposed to do in this situation.

"Get Joe on the phone, I want him here for the next three days while I'm gone and if you have any problems, you do not call me for anything you call him. The club closes at five every day until I'm back." Ben waited an extra second and stared into James' eyes to make sure the frightened worker understood exactly what he had been told before Ben turned and got his keycard from his pocket. He swiped it over the lock and left the club, slamming the door behind him.

Joe was always in charge like a manager at the club whenever Ben wasn't there and he had to be there now or else Ben would close the club. Ben had to go home to his family and he couldn't have anyone from the club ringing him with their petty stupid questions or saying something was wrong because his attention had to be on his family.

Nor did Ben want the club open late or any deals happening when he wasn't there to authorize it. The club had to operate as if it were a normal gym and boxing ring and nothing was to happen or go wrong whilst Ben couldn't be here to check on things.

The moment Ben barged through the front door it felt like he had been swamped in tension and a murky atmosphere. The tv in the living room wasn't even on and Ben hardly ever walked into his home in the afternoon and not hear either music playing from the tv or Billy's cartoons.

Ben headed up the stairs two at a time but before he even made it to the top he could hear Billy calling out for him.

"Daddy!" The relief was evident in Billy's eyes and more so in his voice when he heard Ben's feet crashing against the stairs making the floorboards creek. The moment Ben rounded the corner and came within sight Billy left the doorway to the bathroom and ran over until he was within reach of wrapping himself around Ben.

A shiver ran down to the base of Ben's spine when he felt Billy shaking against him the moment he picked his son up and held him to his chest.

"I'm here buddy, I'm here, are you okay?"

"Yeah, but mummy's starting to wake up now." Billy tucked his head into Ben's neck when he felt Ben starting to move down the hall to go to the bathroom. Ben had stuck to his word and had been ten minutes to get from the club back home but the time seemed to have stretched out and gone so slow for Billy. He kept moving (Y/n)'s hair from her face and rubbing her arm or her leg and he talked to try and prompt her to wake up which she had only just started to do.

"That's okay, now you stay out here or in your room while I go and check on her." Ben carded his fingers through Billy's matching blond hair and kissed his temple to try and calm him down before he set the five year old down outside the bathroom.

He could see it in Billy's eyes that he didn't want to let go of Ben but he also knew that Ben couldn't sit and hold him right now because he had to check on (Y/n) first and make sure she was okay. Billy clung to the doorframe and leaned his head cautiously around so that he could only just see into the bathroom. His eyes watched Ben closely as Ben headed into the room and knelt down on the tiled floor beside (Y/n).

"Fuck, baby..."

The moment Ben looked at (Y/n) he knew she wasn't well, all the colour had completely drained from her face leaving her looking ghostly and unwell. Her lips looked very cracked and pale and he could see the cold sweat on her skin. Moving his hand, Ben pressed his fingers firmly against (Y/n)'s neck and concentrated on counting the beats for a minute but her pulse seemed slower than what it should have been which made his own heartbeat increase.

Ben rubbed his thumb over (Y/n)'s neck when her head slowly moved and he leaned down to look at her better. He watched the way her eyes moved behind her eyelids which were trying desperately to open but she was finding it very hard.

A small scratchy mumble left (Y/n)'s lips but when her chapped lips parted something resembling a moan escaped them and the way her body ever so slowly coiled in on itself made Ben shiver.

(Y/n) had to of been unconscious for at least fifteen minutes but Ben was thankful she was starting to wake up now or it would have been a bad sign. But even though she was starting to wake up, Ben had no choice but to take her to hospital today instead of tomorrow or never. Ben wasn't happy, not in the slightest that his son had to ring him because (Y/n) was in such a state as this and he couldn't let her get any worse because her state was bad and it was frightening him.

"Buddy, go downstairs and put your shoes on cause we need to take your mum to see a doctor. Go on." Ben ticked his head to the side to encourage Billy to move when he simply stood and stared at Ben in fear before he scuttled off to go do as told.

Another murmuring noise left (Y/n)'s lips and when Ben looked down at her he watched how her eyes slowly started to open and become half-lidded but she didn't look like she could properly see. She looked too drowsy and confused to be able to even think straight, let alone comprehend anything.

"Baby, baby can you hear me?" Ben kept smoothing his thumb over (Y/n)'s cheek and the small noise he heard made him sure that she could hear him or at least partially understand what was happening around her.

Just as Ben was about to move (Y/n) into an upright position he shuffled to the side quickly when (Y/n) seemed to jolt and gag. He moved his hand to the back of her head and gently kept her head tipped forward, keeping the hair out of her face when her eyes closed and she threw up. Ben didn't like the fact that all (Y/n) could throw up was a tiny bit of water and bile but it was better in her state to throw that up than anything else since she was only partially awake.

"Baby I'm gonna sit you up now."

Ben slipped his arm under (Y/n)'s back and shoulders so that he could slowly ease her up until she was sitting upright and he waited a moment just to make sure she wasn't going to be sick again before daring to keep moving her. He moved her head so it was resting on his shoulder before he picked her up bridal style, waiting for another moment so she could adjust to the movement. But he could see that she was struggling with staying awake and moving her seemed to make her feel worse but it had to be done.

Heading out of the bathroom, Ben took it slow when going down the corridor and heading to the stairs.

Part of Ben hoped that (Y/n) would suddenly stir in his arms and wake and look and feel better. But the other part of him was thankful she was still partially unconscious because even though it wasn't a good sign, it meant that she wouldn't be awake feeling scared or concerned. It also meant she wouldn't be panicking about going to hospital because Ben had no choice, he had to take her now she was unwell and it was good that she didn't know or understand where she was going yet.

It felt weird for Ben to take each step slowly when he walked down the stairs with (Y/n) in his arms. He was used to carrying her up and down the stairs with her sitting on his hips and he never went this slow. But with (Y/n) being this ill and limp in his arms he had to take each step at a slow pace in case he stirred (Y/n) too much and made her feel worse.

When Ben got down the stairs he looked over at Billy and his lips pressed together as his jaw tightened when he locked eyes with his son. Billy had his hands clasped together in front of him and tears in his eyes when he looked at (Y/n). She was limp in Ben's arms even if her eyes were stirring and her head was trying to move against Ben's shoulder.

"I-is mummy okay?" Billy looked like he was shaking and all Ben wanted to do was take him in his arms and comfort him but he couldn't.

"She's sick buddy but I'm gonna make sure she's okay. I need you to open the door for me and lock it behind us so I can carry your mum, okay?"

Ben watched Billy pull open the front door and cling to it like it was his teddy but his eyes clung to Ben's frame as he made his way slowly out the door, his hands tightening and tightening around (Y/n) like he was afraid he was going to drop her. He waited and watched Billy lock the door before looking up at Ben with doe eyes that made Ben shiver.

"Put the key in my pocket buddy and grab the car keys for me, I need you to open the car door so I can sit your mum down in the car." Ben turned to the side to let Billy slip the keychain into his side pocket before taking the car keys from his jacket pocket and opening the car.

The five year old followed Ben to the passenger door and slowly pulled it open, watching as Ben squatted down and leaned his top half into the car, almost hitting his head on the roof. He settled (Y/n) down into the seat, leaning her head back against the headrest before he strapped the seatbelt around her.

His teeth punctured into his lower lip until it started to bleed when (Y/n)'s head flopped to the side and she started to gag again. Ben shifted round until he could kneel in the footwell and lean up, moving (Y/n)'s head so it was tipped forward but as he expected she wasn't sick. When Ben was sure (Y/n) wasn't going to be sick or gag or get any worse, Ben pulled back and stood to his feet but his heart broke when he looked at Billy who was now silently crying.

"No, no buddy don't cry she's just feeling sick. Come here, it's okay." Ben leaned down and scooped Billy up into his arms, hating the way that he could feel Billy's tears against his neck. "It's okay, she just needs to see the doctor so let's go take her, she'll be fine I promise."

Ben settled Billy into the car seat in the back and handed him the stuffed frog toy he had left in there earlier. Now Ben just had to get them to the hospital as quick as he had come home.

Having the radio on along the drive didn't do very much to calm Ben down and it didn't help (Y/n) who was stirring and starting to feel the effects of her ill health. But the songs seemed to do something to calm Billy down who sat cuddling his toy looking out the window with dried tears staining his cheeks. The moment they pulled up at A&E Ben knew it was going to be hard to get (Y/n) and Billy in there with so many people and doctors and nurses running about the place.

"Alright buddy," Ben turned round in his seat so he could look at Billy who had his toy smothering his mouth and nose making him look timid but rather sweet and almost lost. "I have to carry your mum cause she isn't well enough to walk in, so I need you to stay as close to me as you can. Hold my trouser leg or my pocket and don't let go or wander off, got it?"

He didn't want to be firm with Billy like he sometimes was but he had to make sure that Billy wouldn't wander or drift or walk too slow and lose Ben anywhere. He had to stay close and stay holding onto Ben.

Ben got Billy out the car first and settled him down next to the car before he opened (Y/n)'s door.

"Okay baby, let's get you out and to a doctor." There was a feeling of relief in Ben's chest when he looked over at (Y/n) and saw that her eyes were opening properly and she looked more awake than before. But the pain in her eyes and in her features made Ben angry, he was angry that he hadn't taken her to hospital before now. He was angry he wasn't home with her when she collapsed and that Billy had to witness what he had and be as afraid as he was. Ben was angry that he couldn't control the situation and that he could do very little to make her feel better and make everything okay.

Billy shut the door when Ben eased (Y/n) from the car and into his arms again and the moment Ben was stood upright he felt Billy's small hand slipping into his side pocket and clinging to him tightly so neither of them lost each other.

(Y/n)'s arms very loosely and slowly draped around Ben's neck and her head buried into his shoulder to smother a moan. All she felt was the world spinning around her and everything feeling like it was on fire yet becoming ice cold all at once. She felt that it would be preferable to be unconscious again rather than to be awake in pain and unease like this.

Ben didn't know where he was going when they headed into the reception area that was full of people needing attention. He could hardly take a seat and wait and he couldn't go to the desk and reel off what he needed to with (Y/n) in his arms and Billy clinging to his hip. But it seemed he didn't need to when a nurse came over to him instead, he guessed that a person wandering in with a limp body in their arms was a red flag in here. And Billy clinging to his hip looking frightened helped show that this was as much of an emergency as anything else.

"Can I help?"

"I need someone to help my wife, she's pregnant and she's collapsed, I think she's dehydrated she hasn't been eating or drinking anything. The midwife said she has hyperemesis Gravidarum." Ben had seen the name written on the prescriptions and medication bottles that it stuck in his head and he was sure he had said it right because the nurse seemed to understand when her eyes widened and she nodded.

"Follow me." The nurse leaned over to look at (Y/n) but one look and a quick check of her pulse was all she needed before she beckoned Ben to follow her down a long corridor.

He hoped he had gotten (Y/n) here in time before she took a turn for the worst.

[terrm9]

CHAPTER 4 - The Talk

Ethan woke up from yet another nightmare, cold sweat sending shivers down his spine. Ever since Chiara's accident, the nightmares kept creeping back into his sleep, making it almost impossible to actually rest. It was 5 AM but since he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, he decided to workout a little bit in hospital's gym and use gym's shower while he was at it. He missed the comfort of his own apartment, but couldn't stand the idea of going home with no one watching over Chiara here at the hospital. So he kept sleeping in his office, using gym's shower and eating whatever a vending machine had to offer at the moment. He let out a humorless laugh when he remembered Naveen's olden words that Ethan would move into the hospital one day. This situation was not what he had in mind back then.

After running on a treadmill for 40 minutes, trying to run away from the fear that consumed every cell of his body, fear that he would never hear Chiara's laugh again, refreshing shower and short conversation with an old lady that couldn't find Cardiology, he walked in into the diagnostic office, June and Baz already inside, going through a file together.

"What do we have there?" Ethan asked as he put some other files on the desk.

"Woman, 60 years old, sharp chest pain, fever, troubles when swallowing. She was admitted an hour ago."

"Pericartidis?" Ethan asked without even sitting down to go through the file.

"No, the ultrasound already ruled that one out. I already ordered blood test," June replied, trying to sound neutral, but the tension between her and Ethan was still obvious, leaving Baz in rather uncomfortable position.

"Okay, I'll go talk to her," Ethan nodded and left the office.

He didn't mind talking to his patients, quite opposite, but he knew Chiara was much better at it and that it would be her talking to the patient now, if only she was there. He entered the patient's room still deep in his thoughts and without thinking about it twice - he did it all the time after all - greeted the woman lying on the bed without even looking at her.

"Hello, I am Dr. Ramsey and I'll be taking care of you while you are here, Mrs.-"

He stopped abruptly, frowning at the name written on the chart. He had to blink several times to make sure that he is reading it right, that his sleep-deprived mind is not playing tricks on him and only then he looked at the woman lying in front of him. His eyes widened at the realization, the absurdity of situation getting down on him. He was shocked and surprised and so full of anger at the same time, but finally he found his ability to stay calm and distant and with the flat voice, he simply asked: "What are you doing here?"

"I was admitted with chest pain and fever."

"That much I know. I am asking what are you doing here, in Edenbrook of all the places? There are plenty of hospitals that would treat you."

"Ethan please. We need to talk."

"No we don't."

"Ethan, listen to me-"

"I said no."

Ethan tried his hardest to stay calm, to be the doctor and nothing but the doctor, but the anger built in his body was suddenly stronger than any other feeling and he felt himself losing it all. The next second, he was almost shouting.

"How dare you to use his name? My name? You left us 26 years ago and now you are telling me that I need to listen to you? I've seen my father crying himself to sleep for months, because he couldn't imagine his life without you. And then, after I made sure that he was asleep and safe, I cried myself to sleep because I has no idea what did I do wrong for you to leave us. You left your child, you left a little boy without any sort of explanation. I always tried so hard to be a good son, I worked hard at school, I cooked with dad and helped you garden, I never asked for much and still you decided that I wasn't good enough for you to stick with me and left like a coward! Dad might have forgiven you, but I never will. I was a child. A child! I needed a home, I needed love and security and all I ever got was wrecked father and feelings of self-hatred. Because no matter how hard I tried, my own mother left me without goodbye. I never trust anyone, because how could I? I push people away before they can push me away. I am not able to love someone because you made me feel like love didn't exist."

"Ethan, please-" 

"Don't please me here. I don't give a single damn about what you have to say. For 25 years I felt unworthy of love, I felt like a failure, I felt like everyone will leave me eventually. And when finally someone comes and for the first time in all those years makes me feel like I might be worth of their love, I am not able to love them back because I fucking forgot what love felt like. And now she could die any second-"

He stopped, realizing at his outburst wasn't leading to some point, ashamed of himself for even letting the emotions out. He could do better. They stared at each other for a long time, neither of them breaking the silence that filled the room. He tried to see some familiarity in her eyes, he tried to remember the best memory from his childhood that could maybe, just maybe make everything feel a little bit better, but all he could recall was the pain in his father's eyes and the empty feeling in his chest.

"I am sorry, Ethan. I am truly and honestly sorry." Mrs. Ramsey broke the silence after all.

"Save it for someone who cares. I'll get you another doctor."

Without any other word, he left the room. He felt the need to punch something rise in him, the need so strong that he locked the door of the nearest supply closet and smashed the wall so hard that some of the plastering fell off. And then again and again, Ethan kept hitting the wall with intensity that could cause serious injuries if it was a person instead of a wall. His knuckles started to bleed and it was enough for him to calm his own breathing, collect himself and get out of the tiny space.

On his way to office, he decided to invite Naveen over for dinner, the strong urge to finally share his feelings with someone supporting the decision. Just as he found Naveen's name on contact list and was about to dial, he spotted group of interns chatting near the nurses' station, the last sentence catching his attention.

"You think they'll make another competetion for interns to get the spot when she dies?"

He stopped in his tracks and with gritted teeth listened what they had to say next.

"I don't know," the tall, blonde guy shrugged, "but I am definitely not willing to sleep with Ramsey to win."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Everyone knows that Ray fucked Ramsey to get the spot in diagnostics team. She is average doctor, at best, so I guess she must be outstanding in bed."

Ethan's fists clenched at his side and without thinking, he moved forward to throw a fist into the asshole's face. However, before actually moving, he was stopped once again, staring wide eyed at the scene unfolding in front of him. Dr. Varma, apparently hearing the conversation too, stepped in front of the blonde intern and with blades in her eyes, she asked: "What did you say?"

"I...ugh... nothing! What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, asshole. At least stand up for what you said."

Ethan could see that the boy was shocked and maybe even embarassed, but after few seconds he grinned and repeated what he said earlier. "So you're saying that it's not true? That Dr. Ray slept with Dr. Ramsey to get the spot?"

"What I am saying is," she hissed through gritted teeth, "if I ever hear you talking about Dr. Ray this way, I will personally fuck whomever it takes to have you kicked out of this hospital. Even if it's Banerji himself."

Despite feeling so much anger, Ethan had to chuckle at the idea of Naveen being seduced by woman that charming and that scary. Heck, looking at the scene, even he was terrified of the young doctor. Jackie turned on her high heels and started to walk away when she noticed Ethan staring at her. She grinned, waved at him and disappeard in the patient's room.

~

Being in his own apartment didn't bring him half as much comfort as he thought it would. He enjoyed cooking in his own kitchen, using his own shower, listening to piano compound rolling peacefully from his phonograph, filling the whole apartment with soft tunes. The evening could be perfect if not for his frequent need to check his phone in case something changed with Chiara. Exactly at 7 PM, soft knock on his door interrupted him while setting the table.

"Naveen, hi. Thank you for coming."

Dr. Banerji smiled softly as he entered the apartment, handing a bottle of red wine to Ethan.

"I am glad to be here. I missed talking to you."

Ethan couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed at Naveen's word, realizing very well that for the past few weeks, he didn't do much to preserve their friendship.

"I'm just surprised you are not spending another night in the hospital," Naveen added.

"You've noticed."

"Of course I have. So, what made you change your mind?"

"Rafael Aveiro is back in Boston for three days and he asked me if he could stay with Chiara tonight. It puts my mind in ease knowing that someone is by her side."

There was no point in lying. Naveen could see through Ethan and he would know he was not telling the truth. They sat down and started to eat in silence, Ethan forcing himself to take at least few bites of the food he made.

"I am sorry for being so distant Naveen," Ethan broke the silence with statement, trying to put all the sincerity into his words.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I understand that life is hard on you right now. I heard from Dr. Hirata that your mother is in hospital?"

With a long sigh, Ethan put the fork down, knowing that he's done with eating. After short hesitation, he nodded and told Naveen everything, from being angry at June for wanting to replace Chiara to meeting his mother and spilling his heart to her before he could stop.

"It seems to me, Ethan, and don't get angry now, that you haven't made your peace with the situation at all."

"Which situation?"

"Your mother leaving. Your mother reaching back. Neither of them."

There was a long silence as Ethan let Naveen's work sink in. When he spoke again, his voice was almost whisper.

"I can't make my peace. She ruined me."

"You are not ruined, Ethan."

"Oh but I am. I push people away because I am scared of them leaving. I despise love, because I am scared of feeling something so transient, so conditional. It all happened because of her and it keeps ruining my life, now more than ever."

"I take it you are not talking solely about your mother now?"

Ethan looked at his mentor, not knowing what to do. Telling him the truth about Chiara would mean confessing that there is the truth to reveal in the first place. That there are feelings he is trying to hide even from himself. And what if Naveen would judge him for falling for his intern, his protége? But again, Naveen observed and analyzed people all his life, he probably knew already.

"It's Chiara. I care for the woman so much it hurts me physically sometimes. She is not only brilliant doctor, she is such extraordinary person I just keep wondering how does one like her even exist. And I know I am hurting her by pushing her away, but it's the only right way."

Naveen was smiling knowingly at Ethan and at the same time, his heart was breaking at the sight in front of him.

"And what makes you think so?"

"Because I am not able to love, Naveen and she deserves someone who will love her. And even if she thinks she loves me, the moment one of her conditions for loving me abolish, she'll stop feeling that way."

"You keep avoiding unconditional love like a plague, but it actually exists, Ethan. Listen to me now and listen very carefully. Chiara always stuck with you, even when you were very persistent in pushing her away. When she found out about my illness and kept it hidden from her friends even though they share everything. That's love. When she spent her free time with you, trying to diagnose me, with you being, well, an asshole. That's love. When you left the hospital and shut yourself off at the times she needed you most and she still found her way to talk to you and make sure you're okay. That's love. When she found the cure for me, but didn't tell you until she was absolutely sure, because she wanted to save you a heartbreak in case she wasn't right? When you accepted your position in Edenbrook back without ever telling her and she was happy for you? When you left to Brazil and didn't talk to her for two months even though you knew it hurt her? Oh, my boy, even if she had any conditions for loving you, you made sure to ruin every single one of them and still, she did never hesitate to show you she cares. What conditions for loving her do you have? Being a brilliant doctor? Showing her affection? Pushing you to be better? All the things she did until the accident? Because right now, she offers you none of those things and yet, look at yourself, sleeping in the hospital every night to make sure she is okay. Talking to her daily, hoping it could get her brain started. Never leaving her side for the three days after the surgery. Hell, you didn't even sleep in the hospital for me!" Naveen laughed before taking a sip of his wine and continuing. "What you are doing is unconditional, Ethan boy. It's the very same unconditional love which existence you recant so much. And don't give me this incredulous look now. I remember very clearly that one call I received from you when you were in Brazil."

"Which call?"

"The one that came in the middle of the night. You were obviously very drunk and you were crying. I never heard you cry before, but even through the phone I could hear the sobs escaping you very clearly. And you just kept repeating that you loved her, that you loved her and had to leave because you loved her. That you even wrote her 'a damn poem'. Not once have you mentioned who "she" is, but I am not that old or stupid."

Horror run through Ethan's face as he recalled blurred memories of the night. He was indeed very drunk and the damn poem was the proof that Naveen was telling the truth, but Ethan didn't remember anything about the call.

Everything Naveen has said was slowly settling in and the voice in his head, now more clear than ever, kept repeating the new truth.

I love her.

Fuck, I really love the woman.

Instead of admitting it to Naveen, he frowned and said: "Even if it was true, it doesn't matter. I am her mentor, her boss and so there's no way we could work as a couple."

Naveen laughed again, Ethan's mind and his morals never stopping to amaze him.

"Oh please. You wouldn't be first nor the last to maintain such relationship. You two kids love each other already and it doesn't affect your work anyhow, so what difference would it make if you allowed yourselves to actually be happy? Sure, Chiara's reputation could take a hit, but I think the two of you would be able not to make it too public until she is an attending, wouldn't you? It's not illegal."

"But it is immoral. Unethical."

"Look, Ethan, you can be ethical and wretched, or you can change the way your morals work and actually find happiness, after all those years."

~

Nine days after his dinner with Naveen, Dr. Ramsey decided to spend his lunch break in Chiara's room, telling her about the newest patient. He stood by the window, looking at the street below him, hands in his pocket as he talked about the man whose nose bleeding was so extensive it made him faint. When he got to the ideas about what could cause such odd bleeding, the device monitoring Chiara's brain activity started to beep somehow more frequently. Ethan didn't pay any attention to it - it happened on daily basis now, showing that her brain actually still works, only not enough for her to wake up just yet.

"...we ruled the brain tumor out but it could-"

"Hurts.... head.... hurts.... hurts."

He turned around and in two steps got back to Chiara's bed, his wide eyes showing broad spectrum of emotions, from disbelief to relief to fear to shock. He leaned over Chiara so that he could see and hear everything perfectly, and really, she was trying to open her eyes while wincing painfully.

"Shh, it's okay, I am here. I am right here. Let me just page others," Ethan put his doctor expression on and with trembling fingers paged other doctors.

"...head hurts," Chiara let out, her words so silent he almost didn't hear.

"Does it hurt when you try to open your eyes?"

She nodded.

"Okay, keep them closed. Does it hurt when you are talking to me?"

"My throat... sore.." He took her hand between his own and started to draw soothing circles on her skin with his thumb.

"It's okay, everything's okay. Your eyes need to adjust to the light. Can you tell me what your name is?"

"Chiara... R...Ray."

"Wonderful. Do you remember what your job is?"

"I - a doc... doctor."

"You are doing great, Chiara. Keep going. Could you try to open your eyes now?"

Chiara's eyelids fluttered and she had to blink several times, but she managed to keep her eyes open for a while.

"Perfect. Now, can you tell who I am? Do you remember me?"

Ethan's heart skipped a beat at her words and all he wanted to do was to take her into his arms and hold her, tell her how much he missed her and how sorry he was, but the moment was interrupted by Baz, June and Harper Emery entering the room, their expressions shocked.

She even managed to create a small smile before saying: " Ethan Ramsey. Unforgettable."

"When did she wake up?"

"Four minutes ago. No memory loss."

"Where does it hurt, Chiara?" It was Dr. Emery, already poking into one of Chiara's legs. "Can you feel this?"

"Yes, but the legs hurt. And head. And my back. It all hurts so much."

Harper looked at Ethan and nodded. "No paralysis."

"It's natural for your body to hurt now, Chiara. We will run all the tests we can and monitor your functions to make sure you'll heal properly. Do you recall what happened?"

"Not really," Chiara said, closing her eyes again, not being able to bear so much light. "I remember driving... driving home and that's it."

"Okay, you need to rest," June stepped into the discussion. "Keep your eyes closed, don't move, rest. We'll come with a treatment and recovery plan for you soon."

Chiara nodded and all the doctors started to leave the room. As he was leaving, Ethan squeezed Chiara's hand and whispered: "I'll be here as soon as I can."

~

As evening fell over the city of Boston, Chiara Ray finally didn't feel like her head would explode everytime she opened her eyes. She was now laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for some other doctor to come and examine her. When the door opened, she didn't even have to look to know who entered the room, his scent so unique she would recognize it anywhere.

"Hey," she smiled softly. "Another test?"

"I came to check how you were doing."

"I need to know if my friends are okay. Someone should finally talk to me."

Everytime she asked about her friends, the girls sitting in the car that night, she would be stopped and told to rest. At first, she was so confused and in so much pain it didn't really startle her, but now, feeling much better, not knowing was torturing her.

"They are all alright. You were the only one seriously injured."

"Can I see them?"

"Not now, no. You have to take this slowly. They'll come to see you tomorrow. Right now, you really need to rest."

"From what you told me, I've been resting for the last seven weeks."

"This is not the right time for jokes, Chiara. It's a miracle you are alive and this well at the moment and I am speaking as someone who doesn't believe in miracles. It will cost you a lot of strenght and dedication to heal. You basically need to learn to walk again. And for that, you need to rest."

She turned at him, finally taking a good look at him, observing every detail.

"Look who's talking. What about you? Which musketeer are you audiencing for with that beard and those hair? Athos?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You don't know The Three Musketeers?"

"No."

Even though she still felt physically miserable, she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes at him.

"Okay, well you could also play Sirius Black after he ran away from Azkaban."

"Who again?"

"Don't tell me you don't know Harry Potter."

Ethan sat down on the chair next to her bed and shrugged.

"I don't, obviously."

"God, you're hopeless. So, what is it going on in your life that made you look like this?" 

She knew something was going on, even if she didn't pay attention on his appearence, his eyes screamed that he was in pain.

"Nothing serious. Just a lot of work. It's not important now. What is important is you getting better, that's why you are not allowed questions today. Don't put too much pressure on yourself already."

"Come closer," she told him softly and he leaned over her, looking straight into her eyes. She reached for his hair, wincing with pain as she lifted her hand.

"Closer," she repeated and he got closer, so close that he could see how her green eyes turn into colour of rosin around her pupils. His breath got stuck in his throat, because damn, even now she was the most intriguing woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

"Ramsey, is this a gray hair I see here?" she whispered and chuckled.

Ethan closed his eyes, trying his hardest to maintain serious, professional face, but hearing her chuckle made him let out soft laugh too.

"You are really stepping over the line here, Rookie."

"Of course I am. Seriously though, Ethan. What is going on? You look even worse than I do and that's almost impossible at the moment."

Her voice was caring and he couldn't bring himself to pull away from her. But he had to, after all, so he sat down back on his chair, holding her hand from there.

"It's really nothing Chiara, just work. I am down to a member of my team after all, remember?"

She knew he was hiding something enormous, but it was too soon to push him into telling her. She would have plenty of time for that.

He wanted to tell her everything and he knew she sensed his lies. But at this time, her recovery was the most important thing to him and he didn't want to put that at risk. He knew he would have plenty of time to tell her everything.

[misstef]

This Time

This is just some moments of the bees during volume 7 with a finishing confession-talk and a good amount of fluster sprinkled on top. Everything refined with lots of fluff. Please enjoy!

I also posted it on ao3, if you like to read stuff there more.

-------------

She wanted to tell her. So many times. 

 When they got new equipment from Atlas and she thought, no one could look that good in an overall. But Yang did effortlessly. She almost said it, then and there. It just didn’t seem like the right time; it was too soon.  

-- 

When they were so tired, they slept through a whole meeting. Blake couldn’t even remember how or when it happened, but suddenly she found herself descending. The tiredness got such a hold on her that she didn’t even care where she was headed.  

Warmth and comfort greeted her, like she belonged there. Only a hand on her shoulder made her notice where exactly she was resting her upper body on. So, she turned her head a little to make sure it was ok, only to see Yang looking down at her with a smile warmer than she could’ve ever imagined someone looking at her.  

Suddenly the urge to sit up again, fighting the tiredness, and just smash her and Yang’s lips together was too real. So real she almost felt herself doing it.  Almost. It just didn’t seem like the right time. 

-- 

When they were dancing together in a night club, alcohol pulsing through their veins, just enough to make it easier to loosen up around so many people. The music was loud, canceling out everything else, and they were so close to each other that they could forget entirely what was around them. It was freeing really; not having to think about anything else than the person in front of you.  

Blake didn’t know how to describe the way she had felt in that moment. Yes, they were dancing closely, only centimeters away, but it still did not feel enough. The shots they had downed after coming in made Blake’s head crave even more for closeness.  

You make me crazy, it’s not just the alcohol, Blake caught herself thinking at one point. Feeling slightly dizzy she stepped forward with the purpose to be closer yet again. However, she kind of lost her balance (maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was her lack of coordinating her feet in the rhythm of the music; later she would deny both those theories). But she didn’t fall. Yang was there already, holding her up with a hand on each arm. She chuckled like she was the most carefree person on the planet. Mesmerized by it, Blake couldn’t hold back a laugh of her own. Now it just didn’t seem like the right time anymore. 

-- 

When Grimm were closing in on her, threatening to sever her string of life forever, even though it just became intertwined with yellow again and the red was finally gone completely. She heard Yang’s voice screaming her name in fear and agony. Blake had never wished so much to go back in time, to any of those moments and just...go through with it. 

 She lived, but that regret stayed with her for the rest of the aftermath. What if she got hurt badly, fallen into a coma and never got to tell Yang, how she felt? What if Yang was the one in a coma? Again, she wouldn’t be able to tell her anymore. Or worse, what if it was more infinite than a coma? They lived in a world that could break into war every day, threatening their lives, and she still couldn’t take the courage to tell her.  

This was stopping now. 

As soon as everything important was dealt with, Blake walked up to Yang. They were both exhausted from the battle and she knew it, but it had to happen, now. She couldn’t wait any longer. 

“I need to talk to you.”, she said purposefully, staring at her in determination. 

“Agreed.” It shot out of Yang’s mouth as if she was thinking of doing the exact same thing. She looked Blake straight in the eyes, possibly the soul, and even through all the commotion going on, Blake’s heart skipped a beat. 

Yang’s hair was messy, her outfit with several cuts where her skin was already healed by aura, but she still looked like one of the most attractive persons in the world to Blake. 

They walked away from the others, in no real direction, then around some corners and through a few side streets, until they felt like the little blind alley, they found themselves in, was private enough. 

It looked run down (like everything in Mantle) and not very romantic, but it was a part of the city that was not destroyed, so really the best they could find right now. There were even little flowers blooming through the fence at the end of it. 

Before Blake could even think to speak up, Yang beat her to it. 

“Ok, Blake, listen. I know, the situation was dire and not at all what you had planned, but you scared me to death back there.” She paused and inhaled shaky like she still saw it all happening before her. “I worry about you. So much.” Another pause. She brought a hand up to her forehead, as if she couldn’t quite grasp what happened. There was so much distress in her eyes and Blake could see it all displayed there, could feel it. She knew that feeling from herself, because she worries just as much; and she didn’t like it at all how hurt Yang looked right now, just wanting to wash it away from Yang’s face. Forever, if she could. 

The girl in front of her continued: “I- You can’t even imagine- I mean, what if--” 

Blake couldn’t hold it in any longer. She just felt too much right now, not being able to bare it all at once. So, she did the only thing on her mind, that would be able to take all those emotions and share it with the person who caused them in the first place. (And shut her up too, because damn that was not what Blake wanted to talk about.) 

She walked up to Yang mid-sentence, put her right hand on her cheek and stretched herself just slightly to be on eye level. 

The kiss was... well, what you would expect from kissing someone who was just talking and now taken by surprise. Yet, Blake felt a wave of relief washing over her. Not only did she finally express what she wanted to for such a long time, but she didn’t feel like bursting from everything she held in any longer.  

Now she felt like bursting from everything she finally let out. Describing it as happiness, excitement and yearning, didn’t seem nearly enough. So, while it may not have looked like the most romantic kiss ever, it did feel good. 

Though, after a few seconds it came to her mind that she just kissed Yang and maybe Yang wasn’t ready for this and maybe Blake should explain herself first. She wanted to talk after all, not kiss her out of the blue without saying anything. Because while Blake knew, that Yang was probably in love with her too, she didn’t know. It was only a suspicion and there was still the slight chance, that the reason Yang didn’t react was because she didn’t want this. 

When she let go of Yang again, wrapping both arms around herself in self-consciousness and backing down a bit, she saw an expression of sheer shock on Yang. Immediately her eyes went to the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Blake said with a small voice, Faunus ears pulled back in remorse, “I shouldn’t have acted on impulse. It won’t happen again.” 

What she didn’t know, was that every thought in the other woman’s mind right now was ‘Blake just kissed me, she kissed me, I was kissed by Blake, her mouth was on my mouth, did that just happen or am I daydreaming’ and anything of that sort. Breathing was something she forgot how to do the moment she realized, what was happening. 

Only after Blake spoke, she came to her senses again. However, her heart still beat like she just ran a marathon while sprinting, and butterflies –or whatever you want to call this feeling – flew around in her belly like crazy. Despite being in shock and unresponsive the last seconds, she actually had understood perfectly what Blake just said, but was just now processing it. 

Yang snapped back to reality (the ‘not kissing Blake right now’-reality) and urged to reassure her partner as soon as she saw Blake’s sorry look and body-language. “No, no.” She said carefully, voice quiet and soft. “I didn’t react that way, because I wanted to reject you. I was just...”  

There she was at the lack of words again. (That’s just how Blake made her feel, unable to describe what she was feeling exactly. Words like amazing and exciting just didn’t hit it with their meaning; it was so much more.) “...surprised, you could say.” 

When Blake’s expression still didn’t change much, she added, “But in a good way. A very good way.” As to prove that she meant it, she reached out a hand to put on Blake’s shoulder, squeezing gently.  

Blake looked up to her again, with more hope in her eyes. Then there was a hint of a smile as she remembered that it was still Yang in front of her. The one person that was most likely to never hurt her. “I’m still sorry. I didn’t think it through in that moment.” 

“Please, don’t be.” Yang smiled at her and after a little pause continued, “Was that, what you actually wanted to talk about?” 

Blake simply nodded once.  

“Well, if that’s the case...” Yang smiled even wider now. “...I like you, too.” Nervousness took over her as she said that. Her eyes darting back and forth between Blake’s eyes and everything else in her field of vision. It was one thing to admit it to yourself, but speaking it out loud to the person you’re actually in love with was something else entirely.  

“I sure hope you like me.”, Blake deadpanned. “Would’ve been some really shitty years for you, if not.” Then she smiled again, giving away her intention. 

“I hate you.” 

For a short moment Blake narrowed her eyes at Yang, as to scan her and expose her lie. “No, you don’t.” 

The blond woman was busted. “No, I don’t.” This time she made sure to look Blake in the eyes, while with a most certain and honest voice she said, “I’m in love with you.” 

Blake’s arms wandered up to rest on her shoulders and intertwined the fingers behind her neck; Yang did the same, but behind the small of Blake’s back. 

“Then it’s a good thing, I feel the same.” 

They started to sway back and forth, like they were dancing to their own music, while staring into each other's eyes. 

It was quiet, just two people smiling at each other like idiots. No matter how far apart they were in the past, they always seemed to be pulled together again, like magnets; so different, yet so drawn to the own opposite and actually more similar than you would think. 

“So,” Yang broke the silence again with a blush surfacing on her cheeks, “are we like...a thing now?” 

Blake only smiled up at her wider. “If you want it to be. I, for one, would very much like that.” 

“Ok, good.” Yang beamed at her in happiness. “Because I had a situation one time, where that wasn’t clarified and it was just a confusing mess to be honest.” 

“Mhm,” Blake hummed, “not to kill the mood, but you are kinda killing the mood with that.” 

Yang raised an eyebrow at her. “And what would that mood be?” 

“What do you want it to be?”, she answered with a counterquestion, continuing their little back and forth. 

To her surprise Yang grew flustered at the question, avoiding eye contact again. She bit her bottom lip like she wasn’t sure, if she should say what was on her mind. 

“One where...I could maybe...” Her eyes made a detour to Blake’s lips before finding her eyes again. “kiss you again.”  

Blake wasn’t sure if it was a question or not. Either way, her answer would’ve stayed the same. “If we are a thing now, you can do that whenever you’d like.” She said that confidently, with a low and husky voice and looking up at Yang through her eyelashes. But in reality, she could perfectly relate to Yang’s flustered behavior, feeling her heart flutter just as much. 

Maybe it gave Yang a confidence-boost, because the next moment the woman simply said “Good.”, closed her eyes and leaned in. 

This. This both looked and felt like the most romantic kiss ever.  

Considering Blake already thought that she couldn’t describe the feelings raging through her body the last time, she didn’t even know how to begin with it now. The kiss was gentle and delicate and filled with so much emotion. Blake wanted to stay like this forever, feeling safe and loved and happy. Their lips moved together in synchronicity, as if they had practiced it so many times before, warmth being shared through them. 

Yet, Blake started to feel like it was still not enough. So, they pulled each other closer, Yang bringing up a hand to cup her face, like she was the most precious thing on the planet to her. And maybe she was. 

They forgot all about the world around them and the shithole of a situation they were all in right now. Up until a sound of blowing wind was heard, followed by footsteps and a gasp. Out of surprise they separated, only to find Ruby standing in the entrance of the impasse, eyes wide. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she started panicked and quickly averted her eyes, “I didn’t want to interrupt or anything, but we were starting to worry about you and... there are a few things that we need to discuss, so I think you should come back.” 

As soon as she was done saying what she needed to say, Ruby turned away again, getting ready to use her semblance like she came in. But she made sure to flash them a happy smile and thumbs-up first, “And congrats, I’m very happy for you two.” 

After she took off, Blake and Yang shared a glance and burst out in giggles. Happiness and some sort of lightness was still settled between them, feeling like they could conquer anything right now.  

But then again, they knew they couldn’t and slowly started to make their way back to the gang and the chaos everywhere, leaving their happy place behind until the next quiet moment. Though Yang gave Blake a last peck on the lips, smiling reassuringly at her, saying with her eyes that everything was going to be ok. Blake believed her. 

[h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e]

Galapogos [B. Hargrove x you]

Summary: Billy’s temper always causes him problems, but luckily he has Max to talk just a bit of sense into him.

Inspiration: Galapogos by The Smashing Pumpkins & Lost Stars by Adam Levine (Begin Again Soundtrack)

Word Count: 2875  Warnings: profanity, angst, and mentions of abuse.

Written Date: 07/20-22/2019    Posted Date: 7/23/2019  

[PART 1]< >[PART 2]

Billy hadn’t meant to push you.

It wasn’t your fault your ex-boyfriend David had started hiding a liquor flask inside of his varsity jacket because he hated the presence of the new girl who clung to his bicep. It wasn’t your fault David the Douche couldn’t hold his alcohol and wanted you back. It wasn’t your fault that he had chosen the school parking lot to stumble into an already irritated Billy who had just minutes to pick up Max and get home because Mr. Hargrove had already gotten on his case the evening before.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Just hours ago in the blue Camaro with a half-eaten sandwich on your lap, you’d told Billy you had plans with your yearbook classmates. Something about a new comedy film down at the theater that everyone’s been psyched to see. Billy’s never been too good at remembering certain details. Either way, after everything he has been through, Billy should have known that plans never go as planned.

He hadn’t meant to push you. Especially not in front of the entire student body.

But, there you had been in your new skirt, now tainted with black stains from the new cement Hawkins had promised with that tax raise, with tears threatening to spill down your doe eyes. The pang in his chest tells him that you’ll never wear that skirt again, not without freshening the sting in your scraped palms or the incessant pounding just beneath your rib cage.

And yet, he couldn’t bare to see the familiarity of hate finally poison the only form of comfort and affection he’s had since his mother left him or keep up his appearance by finishing the fight your stupid ex-boyfriend had started.

Billy cannot remember the space of time between then and the vibrations through the cool leather under his thighs as the Camaro roared out of there. Out of everyone’s accusing eyes—even the piece of shit Tommy H. had nothing to say. And as he sits on his unruly bed with his head in his hands, Billy cannot even tell what’s worst: the fact that he ran away with his tail between his legs or the fact that he left behind the only girl he’d ever taken seriously.

The sound of skateboard wheels aggressively running over cracks and bumps in the pavement go through one ear and out the other—there’s no room in Billy’s loud head for the outside world to settle. Not the creaks from the stubborn doorknob. Not the slamming of the front door nor the stomping of size five Keds as they approach his bedroom.

Everything is dead to him until the thirteen-year-old he barely tolerates stands at his doorway with her hands on her waist and a scowl on her freckled face.

“What?”

Billy’s dirty blond locks hang over his face in the fashion of a veil as his hands act like a mask. He hasn’t looked up from his position on the bed nor has his favorite mirror caught a glimpse of his vanity. He’s avoiding the very face he was gifted, afraid to finally see the monster that had frightened you.

“Do you have brain damage or something?” Max’s voice is too loud compared to the silence that’s embraced him for the past ten minutes. “You were supposed to pick me up, and don’t dare try to say I was late—”

“Leave me alone.” His voice is muffled.

Max’s blue eyes scrutinize Billy’s pathetic form. His hair’s a mess and she can tell he hasn’t lifted a single weight since he got home—the faded jean jacket still hangs off his broad shoulders. Her next set of words are far more gentler, yet still carries the same edge: “Did somebody die?”

“No.” His shoulders slump just a bit lower. “Go play with your stupid dolls. I don’t care.”

“Ew, you know I don’t touch that shit.”

Billy’s hands smooth down his warm face, and she sees it. The sensitive skin around his eyes are tinged red. “Go away,” he waves her away as he digs for a stray cigarette in his pocket.

His trembling fingers manage to grasp the tip of the cigarette he knew he had hid and shoves it between his lips, suckling on the dry stick as if he were dying of thirst. And before he even knows it, he’s patting himself down for a lighter.

As the trusty lighter remains incognito, the feeling of ants crawling over his taut muscles amplifies. Then he remembers, there’s a shitty spare in his bedside drawer under some wrinkled school assignments marked with grades his father wouldn’t approve of. But as he shakes, flicking the flint wheel over and over again hoping for just a spark, he remembers he never went down to the liquor store to refill its fluids.

“Fuck!” Max flinches as the cheap plastic crashes against the wall wisps away from her head. “What the hell?!”

“Shit…” Billy collapses against his bed in tune with the breath in his lungs. “Sorry.”

Max faces her dirty tennis shoes, sucking on her bottom lip as a million scenarios in which how her step-brother could have fucked up past through her mind. Every sweeping thought involved you somehow, and she actually kind of liked you.

“Go find her.”

The ceiling stares down on him, every groove and every indent. Good thing plaster and paint don’t have a conscience to judge him, despite always being the witness of Billy at his worst.

“What?” Billy’s not sure he heard right, especially when Max never meddles in his business.

A Ked nears his bed in a tentative step forward. “Go fix whatever happened.”

The lines embedded in his forehead loosen up like the curls that frame his face. All anyone ever does is automatically point the finger at him. It started with his father until even Billy started to believe that maybe he was the fuck-up his father said he’d always be.

“Prove to her that everyone in this shithole is wrong about you,” Max keeps her gaze settled on him, watching for any sort of cautionary reaction, “or whatever.”

Billy takes a deep breath. “Why should I listen to you?” he scoffs, “You’re thirteen.”

If there’s anything that Max knows about her step-brother is his loose temper. Living under the same roof as him taught her that Neil had long since snapped the leather of Billy’s leash in half, despite the older man pretending it was the fault of the dog’s breed rather than his own treatment of it.

Her legs are ready to run to her room, but her feet have found the courage to stand on the stained carpet. Max swallows some of her insecurities, “Because you’re scared.”

Besides you, Max is the only other person who can read and solve him like a simple math equation. It’s the only thing you two have in common, and it’s irritating as fuck.

Blue eyes snap to her for a moment as his shoulders straighten. “Hey! I’m not scared,” but then his eyes trail to the bikini-chick poster taped to his closet door and the energy keeping his frustration together disintegrates. “I have to babysit you, brat. There’s a difference.”

“You can.” A sigh leaves her chapped lips when Billy gives her a confused look. “I’ll call Neil, tell him I asked you to take me to the arcade. Not a big deal.”

It takes a moment before the lubrication reaches the rusty gears in his brain. He sits up and runs a hand through his locks. It’s not like he’s never gone behind his father’s back. “Where are you actually going?”

Max shrugs, “None of your business.”

 ~

The drive there is only possible due to muscle memory, an acquired reflex after driving down this familiar neighborhood so many times while all his senses have been locked on you. Complex guitar-solos screeching through the speakers, yet your sweet-as-honey voice always managing to seep through the noise. His hand reaching out to where it belongs—on the flesh of your thigh. Girly-scented shampoo invading his nostrils as your lips focused on his neck. Half-lidded eyes painting murals across the windshield, of your bedroom, ruffled sheets, and how he wanted to ravage you.

Except now, his sweaty palms cling to the steering wheel as the road ahead looks the same as the school’s parking lot—smooth, with a seal-coat. His favorite metal tunes for the evening is the gasp that left your lips when you hit the ground. The scent of your shampoo is replaced by David’s breath, reeking of cheap whiskey as he purposely bumped shoulders. His artistic eye tries to imagine a chance to win you back, but all he gets is hacked images of your locked front door.

The only thing that isn’t different is the fact that the rules of the road only ever came second to Billy’s mood. Third, after he met you.

When he’d first found out they were moving to buttfuck Indiana, he thought his life was for sure over. Or, at least the beginning of a count-down until his eighteen birthday when he’d be legally free to move back to California. When they’d finally arrived at Hawkins, it was even worse than anything his mind had conjured. It smelled like manure and the girls had nothing on Californian babes.

The town only became a little bit more tolerable once he beat his only competition, Steve Harrington, and was crowned the new king of Hawkins High. But, even then, livestock droppings still wafted in the air and the girls he had one night stands with resembled cows to the point that he was having sex with his eyes closed for the first time in his life.

That is until he bumped into you months into the fall semester.

You had been carrying one of the expensive cameras that belonged to the school, walking as you inspected the piece crafted by Greek gods themselves. In the seconds you had collided with a hard body, you were sure you’d have to kiss goodbye your monthly allowance for the heartbreak that was just about to happen.

The camera never made impact with the linoleum. Instead, it was nestled in the palms of the new kid you had vowed to never interact with. Especially not when the stories you’ve heard around school said that he was just a replica in spirit of your cheating ex-boyfriend. But you had snorted out of disbelief, and the hideous sound out of your bare lips had been enough to capture Billy Hargrove’s interest.

Soon, the promise of never giving another badboy the time of day was snipped with a pair of scissors as you found yourself in his passenger seat, glancing out of the window with a fresh coat of mascara on your virgin eyelashes. Him being new to the town, he had no idea where to take you for your first date together. Benny’s diner had been the destination. Bless his heart.

The standard date had awkward pauses, and even more awkward jokes from Billy’s end. French fries were shared and your fingers kept brushing together like a magnetic pull. You had been sure at the moment that it had to have been the attraction between the rings on his fingers and the ones on yours. It wasn’t the gleam in his bedroom eyes nor the inviting scent of his cologne nor the smooth skin that was revealed by a couple of loose buttons.

When he dropped you off in front of your house, he had admitted that those corny jokes were in hopes to hear that ugly snort one more time. Offense had turned to flattery when he poked his head out the driver’s side window and asked you out on another date for the following day.

You cannot believe you had fallen victim to his charm. A spell the heartbreak over David had taught you to avoid. But, you felt worse knowing that most of the shedding tears are for the death of what was the best you had felt in months. You have had first-hand experience of learning that rollercoasters are not escalators, yet you fooled yourself anyway.

You had thought that expressing loving attention was enough to extinguish a firecracker that’s ready to explode on the Fourth of July. Who knew you’re arrogant enough to think that you possessed that sort of power over anyone, especially a rough-around-the-edges type of boy like Billy. A boy who clearly needs a damn therapist instead of some soft teenage girl with an ugly laugh who’s capable of whispering sweet things into his awaiting ear during sex.

You don’t know how long you’ve been under the comforter with a teddy bear clutched in your arms, staring at your reflection from the floor-mirror in the corner of your room.

Your parents are currently away for their anniversary in some tropical island, sipping on margaritas, while your brother has yet to show his face in this fortress. The telephone has been ringing on and off since Nancy Wheeler had offered you a ride home.

Riding with Nancy was the safest bet. She’s nice, knows when to keep quiet, and doesn’t know you enough to bombard you with questions. Unlike your best friend, who without a doubt always has your best interest in mind, but is too comfortable to give you enough space to mourn. Judilyn talks more than she listens, and you know that half those calls are from her just to tell you about how sorry Billy will be once she gets her hands on him.

You know you should be begging God to turn back time, for another opportunity to change the outcome. You would have been paying attention to where you were going; you wouldn’t have invited him into your little world with your laugh. And you definitely would have kept your arms securely crossed over your chest as the only shield you had against cupid’s arrow.

But, you aren’t. Because despite the shove that sent you sprawling on the cement and the scowl on his face that was so deeply rooted in hate, you’re still madly in love with him. The boy who offers you his jackets when you’re shivering in the howling winds of night. The boy who combs his fingers through your tresses as your naked chests rest as one. The boy who doesn’t care that you don’t try to hide the slight bags beneath your eyes nor any blemishes on your skin you may be battling for the week. The boy who wanted you to express your flawed laugh when, previously, David would have made fun of you for it. The boy who who throughout it all, had been trying his best to show you just how beautiful you, the yearbook girl who hides behind the camera, really are.

 ~

You don’t realize you’d fallen asleep until there’s a couple of suspicious sounds outside your window.

The sun casts a golden hue across the sky, seeping into your second-story bedroom and stretching out the shadows of your furniture. You don’t care for the picturesque beauty at the moment; all you want to do is tell Judilyn, who sometimes climbs up your window when you’re ignoring her, to leave you in peace.

The comforter slides off your shoulders as your feet sink into the plush carpet. You’re still in your ruined skirt and the scuffs on your palms haven’t been washed yet, but that has yet to cross your mind from your sleep-roused state.

You slide the window open with every attempt to send your best friend away. “Judy, I thought I made it clear I want to be left a—!”

His mullet shows up first before his glazed cerulean eyes. His cocky voice is nothing but a whisper: “Hey.”

To be continued.

A/N: So, this is the first Stranger Things fic I’ve ever written! I feel pretty accomplished. Let me know what y’all think. I’m down to do more, especially since I’m so mad by what happened to Billy. I can’t promise I’ll be quick because I’m currently balancing a work-heavy summer course, a job, and my own novel.

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Caterpillar

Request: Imagine playing hide and seek with the lost boys and it's turning out that every boy is in love with you and wants to 'hide' with you to do stuff so you go with Felix since he always seems odd and cold. Turns out he is also in love. In the end pan gets also jealous when he finds out what they did while hiding (what they did is up to you if you like that request:) )

Pairings: Felix x reader

Warnings: there's no smut but there's a heated make out session 🤣

I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS REQUEST TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT IM REALLY REALLY SORRYYYYY (please forgive me) ❤

I have been living on Neverland for as long as I could remember and to say that I was a little uncomftorble at times is a huge understatement. It's not that I'm happy here because believe me, I am, but the constant flirting of the boys just got too much at times, they would really start to peck my head and as sweet as the boys could be it would just get annoying. If it wasn't Noah commenting on the way my ass moved as a walked, or James saying to his friends about how much he'd love to have my lips on his, it was Will bragging to everyone about the things he would do to me if we were alone. No matter what, every single one of the lost boys had something to say about me, even Pan had an opinion, but there was one boy who hadn't commented on my body once, Felix.

He was odd, to put it lightly, keeping to himself a lot, we never really spoke other than an awkward 'hello' if we were ever alone with one another. If I were being completely honest, at first I thought he was gay, not that that's a bad thing, he just had never expressed a desire to have me, wether that be in a sexual way or not and if I was the only girl that had stayed on the island for years then I would've though the boys would jump at the opportunity, but not him. He was always so calm and collected, never once showing a hint of emotion, but the slightly red scar that ran down is face gave me some idea about the boys temper. His eyes were the complete opposite from the angry red scar that was permanently etched into his skin, his icy blue orbs remained cold and hollow, never once faltering or giving away any clues as to what he was feeling.

The sun had set on the island long ago, the sky burnt a golden glow no more so that the stars could come out and play. The cool breeze of the night sweeped it's way through the island, touching every plant and animal in sight, dipping into every cave and touching every river or stream. We all sat around aimlessly in a circle on the dirt floor, everyone waiting in anticipation, eager to see what game we were going to be playing tonight.

“I have an idea!” a lost boy exclaimed, excited to share., everyone's ears perked up at his voice, leaning in closer to find out what his suggestion is "How about we play truth or dare?"

"No, Alex, we played that last night, remember?" Another boy chipped in, clearly annoyed at his friend "How about we play hide and seek?"

The boys pondered on the though for a while, still not everyone was in total agreement.

"I’ve got an even better game!" A boy named Oscar exclaimed as he crawled his way up onto a rock.

"What’s your bright idea this time?" Another lost boy chimed sarcastically, making a few other boys laugh, even I let out a little giggle.

"Its called Caterpillar. It’s like hide and seek but when you find someone, you stay by their side the rest of the game!" He exclaimed proudly.

The boys all exchanged glances at each other, smirking into the night, was there something I was missing? One by one the boys eyed my hungrily, causing my arms to explode with goosebumps. I kept my e/c eyes focused on the dirt ground, trying not to draw too much attention to myself.

All the boys had seemed to reach an agreement

"Ok, what are you all waiting for? Everyone Scram! Ten seconds to get to your hiding spots!" Pan boomed as he got up to his feet, his thick British accent standing out loud and clear for everyone to hear.

Within a flurry of laughs and scurrying, everyone seemed to vanish into thin air as they blended in perfectly. Peter climbed up a tall evergreen tree as fast as he could, his rough hands scrapping along the bark and started to count down at the top of his lungs. His voice echoed through the trees, reaching every nook and crannie on the island, undoubtedly reaching the ears of the lost boys.

"Ten, Nine..."

Quickly, I rushed to my feet, taking off into the forest as fast as my small legs could carry me. There was a burning in my chest as I pushed my legs harder, my body was screaming for more oxygen as I keep on pushing, the jungle around me became a blur of dark green as I ran further and further. Finally, deciding that I had come far enough I began to slow my pace down until my light jog became a steady walk. With nothing to but wonder around, hoping that I didn't bump into Pan, I had nothing to do but be alone with my thoughts. Looking down at my feet I made sure that I didn't stumble over any stray logs or tree roots, but making sure that I wouldn't trip up sure didn't stop me from falling over as I smacked into something hard.

"Woah." A familiar voice cooly exclaimed "You better watch were you're going."

Looking up, my eyes were met with none other than Felix. His icy blue eyes stared back at me coldly as his tall body loomed over mine. The scar that ran down his face was almost completely cover by his hood as his wooden club was slung effortlessly over his broad shoulders. I was stuck in place, permanently staring up at him.

"Well," he spoke, sticking out a hand for me to grab onto "looks like we're stuck with each other for the rest of the game."

I smiled up at him as our fingers intertwined causing butterflys to aimlessly flutter around in my stomach, why was I feeling like this? I had never felt this way around any of the boys before, what made Felix so different? Shrugging off the thought and the weird feeling which welled in the out of my stomach, I got back up onto my feet.

"Uh... thanks" I said as we began to walk, not fully sure if I had just imagined his fingers lingering on mine or not, "You know I'm kinda glad I ran into you and not one if the other boys."

He looked at me confused, "and why's that?" He asked, his voice was as deep and husky as ever.

"Because, you don't try to flirt with me 24/7 Like everyone else." I said.

"What, you're telling me that our one and only lost girl doesn't like the attention?" He says sarcastically, placing a hand on his chest in fake shock causing me to let out a little giggle.

"Well, ok I do kinda like the attention, the boys can be so sweet to me but it just gets annoying sometimes." I explained.

His face softened and the corner of his lips curled up as he let out an low chuckle.

"Do my ears deceive me, or did I just hear the almighty, cold-hearted Felix giggle."

I couldn't be sure if it were my eyes playing tricks on me or if it was just the lack of light hiding it well, but I couldve swarn I saw a light brush dance across the second in command cheeks.

"Shut up." He said, turning his face around in an effort to try and hide it from me, in the process giving a glimpse of his very nice jaw line.

Damn.

Finally, we had arrived at a quite spot, somewhere deep in the jungle of Neverland. We took a seat in a secluded, well hidden area were no one would be sure to find us, the bushes and trees kept us well hidden from everyone's else. An awkward silence hung over the both of us, nether of us really had anything to say.

"So...." he began, but we both knew that this conversation wasn't going to go anywhere.

You know that awkward giggle people do when you have nothing to say to each other so you just end up retardedly laughing? Well that's exactly what I was doing.

"What's so funny?" The tall blonde asked me, with a bashful smile on his face.

"Ah, it's nothing." I said, returning to the awkward silence "ok, I have a question."

He looked at me with a raised eye brow "And what would that be?"

"When I first came to the island, what did you think of me?" I asked innocently.

"Well don't get me wrong I obviously thought that you were pretty." He said as pink dust coated his cheeks "I also had my doubts about you, I wasn't sure if you could handle what the island would throw at you, but now I know that you can."

"Awww, you had me at 'I thought you were pretty'" I joked.

"Oh, fuck off." He said letting out a little laugh before our surroundings became silent once again "So, what did you think of me?"

"Honestly?" I asked "I thought you were gay."

If Felix was drinking water he would've spat it out, looking back at me in disbelief.

"W-why did you think I was gay?" He asked me in shock.

"Well, like I said before you never flirt with me like the other boys do so I just kinda thought...."

"I. Am. Not. Gay." He said, looking me right in the eyes.

The tone of his voice sent a shiver to run up and down my spine, but I couldn't work out weather it was because I was scared or not.

"Are you sure?" I teased.

"Yes! I've been here for over a hundred years, I think I would know if I was attracted to boys." He laughed at me.

"Well what if you didn't know?" I suggested "What if you just haven't had your sexual awakening yet?"

He chuckled at my comment, "Still, I'm not gay."

"Prove it." I said to him.

He looked me dead in the eyes, hesataiting for a moment before grabbing my by the collar of my cloak and smashing his lips against mine. To say it was perfect was an huge understatement, the kiss was sweet with whispers of desire. His hands moved to the smol of my back, pulling me close towards him until my legs were resting ether side of his torso. Our tongues met as they danced together, my finders intertwined themselves into his blonde hair, causing him to kiss me harder. Slowly, his fingertips wonder further down my back landing in my ass before squeezing.

"Felix." I whispered against his lips, he took that as an invertation to pull me in even closer, my chest was flushed against his while his hands travled up my thighs gentally rubbing circles on my clit through my underwear. Moaning into the kiss I started to grind myself against him, causing small grunts to fell past the boys lips.

"You have no idea how bad I've wanted this." He whispered hungrily in my ear before returning his lips to mine. I felt my cheek reden as he smirked into the kiss as a consequence of my reaction.

"Y/n?" Someone asked.

Quickly pulling away from Felix, I turned to face the boy. There stood a tall boy, no older than sixteen, his brown eyes stared at us in shock.

"U-um... Nick!" I exclaimed, not expecting anyone to find us.

"Uhhhh guys!" He yells over the the group of lost boys which were undoubtedly watching mine and Felix little rondevouez through the bushes "I found them!"

"Oh so they were here-" Pan says, stepping onto out little hiding place, his eyes darkened when he saw his second in command sitting on the floor, a dark blush coating his cheeks and me awkwardly sitting beside him, "Come on boys, let's go back to camp."

The boys left, leaving me and Felix awkwardly sitting beside each other.

"So uhhhh...." he began, scratching the back of his neck "I wouldn't mind doing that again."

He bit his lip as I leaned in, straddling his waist once again before kissing him deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!! Anon, I hope you're still here and you can across this I just want you to know how sorry I am and I really hope you liked the story 😍❤ xxxxx

@britishfangirlxo @lady-of-lies @nevereverlandboys

[glassesofroses]

Limerence || Chapter 2

Her eyes flitting around her planner made Olivia realize just how many meetings she had today. She might as well skip lunch. Meeting at 10 to discuss at large what next years Comic Con should hold, keeping new movies in mind, as well as previous interviewers. Though the Con just ended, there wasn't anything that would stop Marvel from preparing for the next years fest. Lunch at 11:30 with Jeremy Renner as he became a quick friend as she made her way into the business. Meeting at 12:45 with Anthony and Joe Russo to discuss event scheduling of the upcoming Spider-Man movie, Captain Marvel, and the unnamed Avengers 4 movie. Multiple events, multiple places, all across the world, and she would be running it all. Lucky for Olivia, she held her sandals in hand and ready for her lunch, determined to get some rest and relaxation with her best friend.

"So good to see you again Mr.Dorf, what a successful year this has been, especially with all of the breakthrough movies such as Black Panther and Infinity War." Olivia grinned, her right hand meeting his calloused yet inviting palm.

"Don't count out Tom," He pointed jokingly at her, referencing to the young Spider-Man who just this year seemed to have a career starter.

"I wouldn't think of it," For the next ten minutes, everyone gathered around the table, spoke their name if they were new to the board, and caught up.

During these instances, Olivia stayed quiet, laptop directly in front of her taking avid notes. Once in a while she would jot something down on the small pad of paper to her right as she knew if you wrote something down, you were more likely to remember it. Everyone seemed to have the same idea, writing what everyone was saying as they would have to relay it to their bosses. While Olivia was standing up, prepared to state her case of new ideas she created, ahead of blonde hair passed in the nearby window. The very same blonde hair that created a lump of nervousness in her throat. She bit her lip as they made eye contact, his blue eyes stinging into her very soul. Chris Evans. The godly man next to Chris Hemsworth, or basically any other Chris in the Marvel Universe.

It was known throughout the office that she had the ever so slight crush on him. He looked amazing, he was sweeter than a peach pie, smoother skin than a baby's butt, and hotter than a beef brisket. His smile could knock someone out. Maybe it wasn't so small, but she hid it well, or so she thought. Being a single mother didn't exactly bring in the cute boys, but one could dream and did Olivia dream.

"Ms.Wilder, your presentation please," Mr.Dorf, the head of Comic-Con, smirked, aware of the slight presence of Mr.Evans.

"Hm?" Slightly unaware as she was still in a daze, but soon snapped out of it," Oh! Of course, sir!"

She had come in contact with Chris on a various amount of time, working with the actors on set, off camera, in their homes. Everyone was friendly, friendly enough the some of them, but there was something about Chris that just drew her to him. Maybe it was the muscles, maybe he reminded her the very least of her ex-husband, or maybe he was just an amazing guy who could be an amazing father, who owned an amazing dog, and had a smile that could knock her out. He's a good guy.

Even though they talked a lot, Olivia rarely tried to get out of the imaginary friend zone that she had put up. With every guy that came up to her, she felt she shouldn't talk to them, as if she would betray her son somehow. That being said, not a lot of people knew about her son. Jeremy, her bosses, and a few other people who have accidentally met him know where she rushes off to on emergencies.

Olivia couldn't imagine dating now, not with a 14-year-old son, but without trying she's cockblocking herself. It is the endless cycle of dating. Wanting a cute guy who's good with kids, not wanting to scare the guy away with her kid, back to square one. She always felt though, that if the time came and she told a guy and he did get scared away, she would defend herself and her son. Blatantly stating the guy was scared of commitment or whatever popped into her head within those few seconds.

She wasn't scared of showing her son off, hell, she wanted to, but with being in the press so often she didn't want to attract any of her own. Single mom around a hot ton of hot guys every single day, some of whom are in relationships, doesn't make a very good article. She had to think of her future, her son's future. Back to where we started.

"Hey Jeremy, yeah I'm on my way I just got caught up in my own thoughts," Her pumps thunking against the tile floor of the office as she strutted towards the exit.

"I already ordered drinks," the older man chuckled, "the first day of school, I ordered you a something extra to help with the nerves."

"You really shouldn't have," Pretending her damndest to be mad but wound up with a smile.

"Oh I should have, just get here would you?" A light click signaling the end of a call.

The Parish Cafe in Boston, MA was their meet up. Casual, beer friendly, sandwich hub. The perfect place for two high maintenance high rollers to hang out. Feeling a little more on the uppity side, and Jeremy knew it, it was a Ginger Smash, something Olivia would get when feeling more anxious than usual. Consisting of gin, ginger, cranberries, lemon, and apple cider, it was the perfect drink to go along with the humid, almost, fall day. As Olivia arrived, her heels sounded loudly through the daytime slumber of lunch hour. Jeremy stood and opened his arms wide as his companion thrust herself into them.

"It's so good to see you again, I just saw the movie and it was amazing, I cried," Olivia admitted, not ashamed.

"Of course you did, you cried horribly at Green Fried Tomatoes and it was your 13th time seeing it," Jeremy laughed as he slowly sat in his chair.

"First of all, it's Fried Green Tomatoes, and secondly, it was only my 11th time watching it." Her inner teenager sass entering the room with a whole lot of pizzaz.

"11th time my ass, but, I'll let this slide as Harry is going into 9th grade. Time sure flies," Raising his beer to his mouth to take a gulp.

"Don't remind me, it just seems like yesterday when I was pushing him out of me in a  hospital room," Olivia pretended to reminisce fondly, getting a sour look from Jeremy in return.

"You don't have to remind me of that," Setting his drink down," the usual?" Motioning towards the Baked Mac & Cheese.

"Nope, I'm feeling a little spicy today," Her head going down in her menu at the thought of Chris walking the halls of her office.

"Oh? Do tell why," Jeremy leaned in, his fists underneath his chin in a girlish manner.

"I think you alrea-"

"I already know but I want to see how red your face gets when you say it out loud," He taunted her.

"I was in the first meeting of Comic-Con 2019 and I saw Chris through the window and we made eye contact as he walked past the office," She rushed out, her face showing light shades of pink.

"You've known him for 7 years and you still have a major crush on him, I don't know how that can be, I've never known anyone who'd had a crush for that long and didn't act on it," Shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's not like I can waltz up to him and say 'hey, I have a 14-year-old son and I want you to take me to dinner you big beautiful hunk of meat'," Olivia's arms flailing in the empty cafe.

"I think you should say exactly that, those exact words," Pointing at her then glancing over to the waitress who was heading over to their table.

"What can I get for you to today?" Her fake smile obvious at the one person who is an actor and the other who works for actors.

Taking a deep breath in, "I'll try The Bravas," closing the menu and placing it at the edge of the table.

"And I'll have The Bondir Basket," Topping her menu with his and nodded his head in the waitresses direction.

"Thank you," The two said at the same time.

"Bravas, you got some balls trying that."

"Well I did say I was feeling spicy today," Olivia shrugged coyly, "it sounds so mouthwatering too, the chorizo, prosciutto, manchego, hot sauce, brussels, it just sends tingles up my spine."

"The most satisfaction you've gotten in a while," Jeremy looked away while sipping his beer.

"Hey!" Olivia laughed, tapping his arm, "not fair, it's not like there's a section at the bars for single moms waiting to get hit on."

"That's very true. Your other option is just going to a bar and having a fling, I think you deserve it after being how many years without sex?"

"It'll be 7 years this January," Olivia mumbled through her hand, hanging her head in shame.

"7 years, the last time I waited 7 years was when I was still a virgin. You need to get some, you'll feel better after you do."

"Oh yeah? I think I'll feel better after I eat this sandwich. Now get out of my sex life!" Eyeing the potato salad that was coming her way.

"Fine, fine, whatever you wish."

[cowboyguts-moved]

tell me about your new ocs ^^

so any and all artwork i show you is done by @shit-stains (: 

everyone listed is from a made up oregon beach town called Mystic Overhang infamous for its creepy bottomless lakes and a cliff that leans over the pacific called Mystic Overhang. the town is full of mysterious happenings and unexplained missing persons and something downright evil is going on under their noses..but more on that another time ha ha. the story takes place in 1989. and i just realized this is basically just IT but i didn’t exactly mean for that…they definitely are not plagued by a killer clown.

Church Shelton (my oc) is 17/18. His mom had him too young and didn’t want to have to raised him, frankly, so she ended up leaving him on the stairs of a synagogue. His biological family is Jewish even though Church doesn’t grow up with religion and didn’t even know he was Jewish, because Josiah (Jo), tristan’s oc, was about 2 years old when he and his mom came by and saw a baby crying on the steps and the boy wanted to keep him and name him Church because he thought it was a regular christian church and… it’s cute. And through a ton of convincing and considerations, his mom agrees to care for Church and adopt him. Its a simplistic way of putting it, but there’s a lot that goes into it. He and Jo grow up as brothers and Jo takes such good care of him (: sometimes he has to be a parent to Church even though he’s only two years older, especially when their mom gets UHHH murdered during a robbery in their own house… ……….and they come home and find her at about 12 and 10 years old and Jo makes the decision that they’re not going to tell anyone and risk him living with his father and Church being placed in foster care. so they run away and become street kids for 4 years. When they’re older, 14 and 16, they get caught for stealing when they weren’t careful enough and the social workers put them in foster care, seeing as Jo’s dad is very unfit. They stay there until Jo aged out at 18 and got guardianship of Church after getting them a place to live, that’s a long complex process as well… and was obligated to care for him and provide income and stuff and they live together, just them two in a trailer, for awhile.

Church’s whole thing is that he loves to read and write. He reads so many books and he’s not great at first and is in remedial classes, but then he advances a shit ton with how hard he tries and how much he wants his love for English to succeed. Uh he has narcolepsy!!! Meaning he has a lot of daytime sleepiness, falls asleep frequently in the day and has bad insomnia at night and this hinders him a lot. In some cases his narcolepsy comes with cataplexy, this is when he has muscle weakness/paralysis caused by strong emotion like excitement and laugher. His brother Jo helps him a lot through that. I theorize that it happened because of a natural immune issue he has, which was most prevalent when they were living on the streets. 

Church is really funny and sweet and sarcastic. He’s such a cute boy and everyone in their town LOVES him just cause he’s so charming. he gets really cynical and depressed sometimes and can be mean when he wants to be, however and it’s his biggest downfall. He’s a bit of pyro he loves to set shit on fire. Oh, and he has a southern accent (: he loves to eat too, he’s always down for snacks. He’s bisexual but he doesn’t really call it that, he doesn’t take much note of his own sexuality, he does what he does. He works at an amusement park most of the time and has to put up with Jo constantly coming to his work when he gets lonely and riding the roller coaster he’s operating. Then when he graduates he goes to University of Oregon and has a bit of a big depressive self destructive path he follows and ends up overdosing on drugs on what of his partying nights, he self harms by being uncaring and his many intrusive thoughts about his mother dying and his huge fear of not seeing the world and being too dumb and poor to get an opportunity to really live. He’s put in the hospital and goes to rehab and Jo is there with him every step of the way. He’s so sweet and caring and worries about him but Church is a little belligerent sometimes. He wants to get better and be better for everyone and himself, and he does through a long emotional school break. He doesn’t end up going to his previous college again but he transfers and gets in the Columbia in new york for his English degree (: he lives in an apartment with his boyfriend Mason. 

Church is white, 5′7 and he’s stout and chubby. He’s got green eyes, freckles, a piggy nose, big sunburnt cheeks, and auburn hair, mostly shaved into a curly mohawk. and he got a fat ass and killer thighs. 

His beautiful big dumb brother Jo Shelton (tristan’s oc) has a story that is obviously parallel to church’s, but i think it’s important to mention that he’s kinda slow, slow thinkin’ and a bit hyper…and an asshole to everyone but the ones he really loves like church, he’s as sweet as he can be with him. he loves working on cars and he has a beautiful truck that he put a lot of work into..that is until he crashed it horribly while drunk driving after he got into a fight with church when church was in the hospital recovering from his overdose. and he got mild temporary brain damage… so…and then had to spend 6 months in jail for a DUI. that really fuck him up for a good while! and that’s a huge dent in their lives.

but anyway lol… he also loves to meet chicks and do speed dating.. and he hooks up with a wide variety of girls, he’s not picky at all and doesn’t believe in types, he just loves dominant women. he does have one important stable girlfriend for awhile named Rosa that he met at his grocery store job! he spilled spaghetti sauce on her white shoes (: and they were truly in love and dated for 3 years until it became dangerous for her to be with him because one of her weird ass fuckinnnn dangerous ex boyfriends got out of prison and she didnt think he would be safe if they remained together and it’s devastating for him and hinder him for a good while. he kinda fills that void by becoming a big brother figure to church’s biological sister Jude, who is 12 and in need of good old fashion josiah guidance. jo has that natural dumb dad vibe to him. (by the way..church’s mother reenters church’s life very briefly and that’s why jude and church meet and jude eventually lives locally to the boys because she moves in with Her real dad.) Later jo works at a mechanic shop and his ultimate goal is to open his own! uh also haha important detail..jo struggles with his sexuality and on the low meets up with dudes in alleys and lets them smash cause he’s a big bottom so. and he has sorta of thing for someone he met in the mess of foster care, just one of the kids he hung out with in passing, and his names Riley and they meet up later on when they’re older and fuck around a bit.

jo is 6′3 and he has golden honey hair and blue eyes and he’s freckly and has some beauty marks on his face. he’s pretty darn hairy..and he kinda smells. he’s a real country bo. he’s super skinny and hes got huuuge hands!

here’s jo and church (:

Mason Uley (mine), Church’s boyfriend, doesn’t meet church until he’s 22 and Mason is 13, and is a rich boy who’s siblings all died in one way or another…JDBSJD he’s the only child left and he is very neglected by his parents because of their coldness and grief and little regard for caring for their last kid. They’re never home and they ignore him completely which leaves him in search for attention in all sorts of wrong ways and he acts out. He does motocross at the local track. He loves rap music and is very embarrassing about it considering he’s very white..he loves flexin’ with that name brand clothing and shoes and wears skate shirts even though he doesnt skate which is a big smelly whatever but in general he’s a big poser. but its fine because we love him and its apart of his charm. He has a slight limp because at 13 he shattered his ankle and it never healed right. He loves Church very much and they’re SUPERR gross and lovey, their dynamic is so adorable, as you can imagine his goofy ass and church’s more dry sarcasm. He wants to be an architect and goes to college for that at Columbia later. He’s smart and has a very dry kind of humor and he hates Jo until he’s forced not to because of their mutual love for Church. He’s 1000% gay. He has blond hair and he looks like a 90s heart throb and Jo affectionately calls him “faggot” more than his name.

i dont have a Current drawing of mason all i got are old ones that tristan doesnt really like l o l

Okay……….. and then there’s Lewis. he’s 18. His full name is Aloysius St. Lawrence (AL oh wish iss) (mine), and he grew up in a deeply religious cult in northern California where many Horrible things happened to him that I’ll spare the details on but he’s a very traumatized boy and i thinkg about the complexity of him trying to come to grips with it and learning how to live with the immense pain he was dealt with! so. it’s really fun.

he was born with a sorta Purpose, his dads family started this commune, and the dad wasnt at fault, he’s not malicious he’s really sweet and a bit slow and is often mistreated, he’s forced to have relations with lewis’ mom, who was sort of a nomadic runaway girl perfect for procreation after she got caught in the entanglement of this commune business in california. theyre both really young when they have lewis and his twin sister, lewis being prime because he’s the Male. lewis grew up believing all kids in the commune were his siblings and so he never realized the one girl he’d see all the time was his biological sister. so bascially they take lewis from the mom, say he’s not only her child but the communities child, just how it is with all kids, and she betrays the commune in a way i havent figured out and goes beserk because obviously everyone there is insane and shes exiled and lewis, all the while has no idea shes his mother. so great childhood… full of hard labor and sleeping in a room with rows of beds and dreaming about a woman and not knowing why, not knowing its because shes your mom (: haha

In 6th grade he’s finally allowed to go to a school with other boys because before this he was homeschooled and his world was reduced to the confinements of his commune. He goes to a spooky and prestigious boarding school in southern Oregon and wears a uniform. The place is really huge and brick and creepy but it feels like paradise with this freedom he finally gets to some extent and he’s learning how to function as a regular boy, although he finds it kind of impossible. 

CHRIS!!!!! Is his roommate at this boarding school in 6th grade. Chris is a very goofy lovesick boy who believes heavily in the energies of the earth and charging his crystals his hippie mother gave him and he paints his nails black and pushes the rules of the dress code every single day and tends to break it completely. He’s a punk who loves to piss adults off. He was forced to go there by his very strict abusive father and there he meets sweet sweet Lewis (:

Lewis has never had a friend like Chris and he doesn’t know how to successfully keep one and it’s a really stressful emotional cycle of enduring the weekends at the commune and coming back to school and to Chris amongst all the happy boys that lead mostly normal lives. Chris sort of realizes that he has feelings for boys in this time and has strange urges to hold Lewis’ hand and kiss him and stuff, but he refuses to truly acknowledge his feelings about who he is.  but he does, in fact, hold his hand and Lewis lets him and they’ll just hang out for hours in their room holding hands and talking about silly stuff. They come to be really close and mean a lot to each other, chris invite him over to his house on the weekends and lewis sneaks off with him, risking being punished because he didn’t go back with one of the Father’s or Brother’s of his commune. Chris and lewis are very adorable and they play with makeup together in chris’s room and eat snacks and explore mystic overhang and chris teaches him about the ways of modern life. in 7th grade they grow apart when they don’t share a room or anymore and Chris gets involved with different people, starts smoking weed and eventually gets with a guy in 8th grade hhhh… and Lewis focuses really hard in class and it’s sorta the end of that. 

When chris gets expelled in 8th grade they don’t see each other anymore, the only departing thing being chris’s journal that he gave to lewis before he was escorted off the premises, and in it is filled with entries about him. this journal was taken and destroyed at his commune by one of the Fathers when it was found, though :/ so yes, Lewis goes back to the commune because they plan on keeping him homeschooled for high school but there’s a group of 5 kids and 3 men from the commune that are heading to Nebraska around the time he’s 16, and they force lewis to be the 6th child that accompanies them in their trip. once there, he’s kept in a creepy abandoned house, hardly set up for living in and he’s living with these other children, like an odd family that has to function around one another, him being the oldest of “siblings”. he finds out eventually that they’re there for a weird ritual/sacrifice thing.. probably the most horror-ish horror element i developed for him thus far, its frankly insane and disturbing and theres a lot of layers and rituals they must do and humiliating tasks they must do all for a Grander godly purpose. the sole purpose of it is to reach ultimate redemption in heaven after a sinful life ahahahaa.. so basically the whole time they’re there, they’re trying to accumulate sin by being unloving, disciplinary, neglectful, …uhh…and lewis kept in a dark room, only candles and daylight light the house and they’re severely mistreated and malnourished. Lewis runs away at 18…but, through constant mistreatments of his body he ends up having gangrene in his left leg and has to have it amputated above the knee by a doctor he meets whom he has to give a Favor to as payment because he doesnt have money. and he gets a real shitty wooden prosthetic that isn’t comfortable at all and its not healing right, it’s a bit botched actually.. and he has crutches and that’s how he gets around. He goes back to Oregon to the town Mystic Overhang that Chris is from because remembers the town name vaguely, not even who said it or when he heard it, but he goes there because he doesn’t know many towns, so he decides to settle there and he makes a living prostituting for awhile at an area called Mouth’s Edge. he sees Chris again when Chris pays him for a bj l o l. and Chris recognizes him even though chris is coked out of his mind because he had a really rough night and got his shit kicked in by his dad… and Lewis almost shits himself because someone from his past is back and he’s really paranoid and weird about it cause he just blew one of his only friends he used to have. and he wants Chris to fuck off, but eventually Chris keeps coming back just to talk to him and see what he’s been up to and stuff, cause he still feels this familiar need to protect Lewis that he had back in middle school. He’s very consistent about seeing him and does every single night even when Lewis is working. lewis’ love for him comes gradually, even through chris is in love with him pretty much instantly. It takes a long time for Lewis to want to be touched and held but he lets people do it anyway, including chris, it’s an unhealthy thing he obviously needs therapy ha ha. they don’t officially date until an entire year later

lewis is very sweet boy he’s shy and he has trouble making eye contact. He’s really smart and loves to paint! That’s what he wants to do with life. He’s not gay per se, he doesn’t really feel much romantically unless someone, anyone is kind to him and patient and reeeeeeeally really consistent or else he would probably never fall in love, but any gender has the potential with him. He loves 40s-80s music so much and dances to it really dorky when he thinks no one is looking and Chris has sooooo many records. he loves to rollerskate! and he’s really good at it. he’s pretty damn masculine, more so than chris. and he’s strong (: and he wears ugly clothes that he finds in dumpsters. eventually he gets enrolled in college for art and sees a therapist he grows to love like a dad to be honest.. lewis he dyes his hair a lot (: it’s naturally golden but at first when he’s prostituting its short and purple and then grows out very long and then he cuts it a lil and dyes it pink..orange..etc etc. he’s a hard worker and he gets a job at the Junkyard where he meets his best friend Cody (: 

This is Lewis :) he’s white, 5′4 and he’s soft but strong and handsome and he’s got golden eyes and hair and he’s sweet n freckly.

Chris Russell (tristan’s) is 19… chris is greek and pakistani from his dad and white italian from his mom. he grew up an only child with them in an upper middle class environment because his dad … i don’t even know the legit title but he buys and sells properties for a fancy shmancy company. his mom is just a kindergarten teacher and that’s not a killer wage but. he’s very close to his mom he loves her to pieces, she’s a big stoner hippie (:. his dad on the other hand has always been really disciplinary and cold towards Chris, his dad is straight up abusive though, so there’s no excuses being made for him, but at first he didn’t do it just because he felt like it. he was just raised learning that it was the only effective way to discipline your kid and that it was the dynamic that Worked the best. Chris is a little problem child though, and not so much when he was a kid! he was so sweet and all he wanted to do was wear his mom’s makeup and clothes. he wore clips in his curly hair and pretty skirts and he loved music and being a mama’s boy and he loved her cooking. he loved reading and writing. but he was still abused by his dad, especially for his natural femininity. and as Chris got older he was such a rebel. he’s a mouthy, snarky, blunt little shit that never behaved or was cowered into doing things as his dad wanted. it wasn’t like he wasn’t afraid to get hit or anything but he didn’t show it and constantly provoked it. that’s in his teen years though especially

chris goes in and out of depression and mania constantly after middle school. he’s doing drugs, just weed at first but he’s always always high and he’s a big loner until he meets his Boys in 10th grade (: mikael ben and kylo. his parents divorce when he’s 15. he tries to convince himself he’s not gay and he gets with a girl but the ordeal is humiliating and she spreads the rumor that he was so bad at fingering her and touching her boobies that he must be Gay and so he retaliates by making photo copies of her nude pictures and spreading them. chris has questionable morality. you GOTTA know that about him.. he has problems and he can straight up not be a good person sometimes but overall he really is one and we be loving him or whatever. and he evens out in his 20′s and 30′s so it’s fine. HFSFSS but yeah! after awhile it’s sorta easy just to come out, and then he gets cocky and his gayness bleeds through everything he does. he starts dressing more effeminate again and he fucks around with a lotta guys and is really stupid about his recklessness. he gets into cocaine and gets so fucked up he doesn’t know who he’s banging half the time he just parties and is a big smelly butthead. and around the AIDS crisis no less… dumb ass. by some miracle he doesn’t catch anything or get anything so… this all happens, the worst of it anyway, when he’s 18 and stuff after he has this weird hook up relationship with Mikael his friend and our other OC hsdhbsd. and then he kinda just Takes himself off it after he bumps into Lewis again and goes through his withdrawals and smokes a ton of weed, i mean he’ll never quit that, its fine.

he loves to skateboard! he loves reading and writing. he aces his english classes and was in AP his whole life in that subject. he’s a big debater and critical thinker in those classes and the teachers love him and hate him for that. he writes in his journals constantly and he wants to be a writer someday.. he loves drag. he has a whole persona. her name is Crystal Balls. he’s really fuckin good at it too, he’s good at makeup and tucking and dressing up and caring for his wigs. he’s a big major faggot. he’s a top! even though everyone in the world does not think he is (: he’s a big top. and he can be masculine when he wants. he has masculine body language and a manly voice and he’s a big stoner skater but he can turn on that faggotry whenever he wants and its especially apparent in his Crystal persona. he plays piano and is very good at it (: he’s bipolar clinically but does not take meds (:  he self harms as a result of his polarizing emotions and his home life. he’s the horniest emo anyone will ever meet and legit is addicted to feel-good stuff and has a really addictive personality in general. so weed, food, sex, Lewis, etc. he’s really insecure and he thinks he is BUTT ugly but high key he’s the hottest OC either of us have like he’s just gorgeous that’s all there is to it. and he’ll go back and forth from Damn im fuckin hot to holy fuck i look like my dad i want to wear a ski mask everywhere. its mostly the latter though (: he hates his dad and hates that he looks so much like him. the only thing he likes about himself is his big dick and his legs that are straight up chick legs

here’s chris heh

Cody Glorymoon (mine), Lewis’  best friend, is 20 and she’s very pretty and she has delicate features but she’s big tomboy and works for her dad at the junkyard. she’s a ginger and she’s very tall and slim and she’s a little rough and cynical but she’s super soft and loving and smart.  and she cares for lewis so much that she’s a little in love with him at one point and it hurts her to be that way because she’s having her own sexuality and identity crisis and shes knows they can’t be together. she hates chris…because the girl chris used to date and spread her nudes was her sister and she’s extremely protective of her sister because they grew up very close and had traumatic experiences being put through frequent pageant shows and training as little girls? their mom was a piece of shit and eventually dumped them on their dad who previously was kept away from them. she also, in general, just doesn’t like chris and his personality. he’s a huge douche to her. until she softens for him in later years when she sees him a lot because he’s her best friend’s boyfriend. chris actually needs her help pretending to be his girlfriend in order to please his dad and keep him off his back so he can see lewis on the low… and she does it because she’s the only girl he knows that tolerates him enough and would do it for him and she comes over for dinner and other events hsdfjsdf its really funny watching chris pretend to like her. they grow closer this way and become real friends even though they always have this love/hate dynamic.

heres cody and cody giving lewis a smoochie 

here’s some gay and lesbian solidarity between chris and cody

Mikael Taylor (tristan’s) is 19 and one of the boys in Chris and Lewis’s friend group. He’s a foster kid who has really long hair and smokes too much weed because if he doesn’t his adhd gets the best of him. He and church have an on and off thing for quite a while until they break up and church moves away and gets with mason, although mikael is sort of crazy in love with church whether he likes to admit it or not, he’s always sorta waiting for him and mason to be Done even though it takes a long ass time, he really misses his opportunity with him the beginning. He likes to fuck and be with all kinds of different people, though, and commitment is definitely a fear of his (hence the on and off thing with church). He’s really sweet though and he loves lewis to death. Hes funny and outgoing and cool and Everyone likes him. Everyone. He’s got a cool septum piercing and one of those gum piercings right under the lip as well. He’s also huge gauged ears and he wears a beanie and hawaiian shirts with dad shorts and socks and sandals (which are like the only shoes he owns). He’s half native american and half caucasian, he sleeps a lot and he has a huge thing for milfs. (chris and ben’s moms especially)

mikael is 6′4, and pretty lean and has got some muscles. he’s got sharper features and he has green eyes and gross facial hair wispies

Benjamin Jacobs (tristan’s) is 19 and is another one of the boys from the friend group. He’s a big, heavy jock who really enjoys theatre and foootball. He’s from up north, so he has an accent thats quite strong and pretty cliche. He’s got pretty short blonde hair and freckles spread across his soft cheeks. He’s quite angry most of the time and he can be very loud, especially with chris whenever chris is being himself and annoying the shit out of him. He does have a temper but he tries his best to control it around lewis. Oh yeah and he also loves lewis a lot (: he lives in a really nice suburban neighborhood and his home is loudly occupied with his mother, dawn, who is your classic 80’s rhode island mom complete with the big poofy curls and the hoop earrings, and his two brothers and one sister. He has a man cave which is the entire home basement that he and the boys all hang out in 24/7, filled with beanbags a television, a pool table and a blow up doll named Patrisha that chris drew a penis on. Again, he hates chris. ALSO he’s in love with kylo’s sister named Leslies and he pines for her 24/7

ben is big chubby and blond, he’s 6′1 and hes so hot i think he’s so hot bro. he’s juicy he’s a thick quarterback with blue eyes

Kylo Cavillo (tristan’s) is the last member of the boys group. Kylo is a sweet Hispanic boy with vitiligo who has a hard time expressing himself. He’s very excitable and he falls in love with people very easily… he has this weird crush/obsession with chris that’s not talked about within the group much but it can be more than obvious at times even though he denies that he’s gay. He and lewis get along very well and he loves him a lot, they both were deprived of a lot of the modern things like certain tv shows and games and phrases and ways of doing things so they’re able to bond on that fact. Kylo lives at home with his mother and father, who is a big part of the Mystic Overhang Tiburón’s (a gang) and he owns their family restaurant called El Baño HHHDSF which kylo comes to take over himself when he’s older. He has three sisters and he is the youngest of all siblings, so he grew up with girls his entire life and definitely has some femininity to him. He’s very sweet and innocent, though, and means well with all his endeavors. He likes to grease his jet black hair back and wear gold chains with his baseball jerseys and blue jeans. OH he also has epileptic seizures and it’s very scary but mikael knows well how to deal and handle them when they happen because he has experience both with his foster siblings and kylo himself because mikael knew him the longest!

and here’s mister kylo, he is very small about 5′1 and skinny, he has big pretty expressive brown eyes and lil cute mustache and unibrow (:

[indieks]

Silent Treatment 🔊 Mark Tuan || Part.4 [END]

💭 Pairing : Mark Tuan x Reader

💭 Genre : Angst, Fluff, Suggestive (light), Supernatural-ish

💭 Word count : 24.8k

💭 Synopsis : Ever since his accident, he has forbidden himself from speaking ever again, as his voice hasn’t been useful the time he had needed it the most. Until he meets you, the one and only girl that could possibly help him overcome his trauma, as you make his heart and mind want to speak up again. You, who can hear his deepest thoughts through your special ability, yet still doesn’t see him as a desperate mute, but a mysterious man worthy of your care.

💭 Notice : The sentences written in bold are Mark’s thoughts, and when *written like this between stars*, it means the character can hear them.

Part 01 🔇 Part 02 🔈 Part 03 🔉 Part 04 [END] 🔊

💭 A/N : YES, IT’S OUT! It’s 7 a.m. here in France but I wasn’t going to sleep until I was finished (was it too captivating for me to stop? read and you’ll decide...)

I’m so relieved and touched to share this with you. I’m really sorry for having kept you waiting, and I’m beyond thankful for the support and asks you sent me, showing love for this fanfic.

Endings are always the hardest to be satisfied with, however I did my best and I hope you won’t be disappointed.

‘Til the end : I would never pretend that I know about psychology and how to treat patients! Everything comes out of my pure imagination! And please, if you ever feel bad for any reason, reach out, you matter! ♥

Also, any comments, good or bad, are still welcomed! I love your feedback, really! Thank you again and have a nice time reading!

Disclaimer : I can once again proudly say that the GIF is mine! (and this one definitely kills me)

                        He didn't know what was hurting his body the most right now. Was it his feet because he had been dragging them around the streets for quite a while, or his heart that definitely felt as if it had been pierced by thousands of needles, embodying your words of truth?

The darkness of the night wasn't as black as his mind which had plunged back into the deepest of sorrows, his eyes looking at nothing but the ground in order to help him lose himself into the big city and into a thoughtless state, until he'd breathe properly again without feeling any pain, without feeling anything. Why couldn't he swallow back his emotions like he used to?

Mark's cheeks were burning as his brain full of hatred was sweltering in hell, and he felt like he was drunk, his footsteps messy on the sidewalk, a sarcastic yet sad laugh sometimes escaping his mouth, before it switched to two lonely strand of tears he had denied freedom to earlier, forcing their way out without him realizing – until the salty taste of warm water met his front buds.

*What the- Did you just cry Mark? Seriously?*

He probably looked like a fool, a scary one more than one you could laugh at, but he confidently went forward and forward, down the streets and crossways, letting his body explore the drawers of emotions he hadn't opened for so long. Before you.

You were stepping all over his mind after having trampled on his weakened heart, and Mark might well shake his head from the left to the right like a possessed man, or grip his pale locks of hair so that the pain he would get from it would replace any thought linked to you, he just couldn't help it.

He was reminded of your crying face, of your eyes that had wanted to be apologetic, but most of all, he was hearing your trembling voice over and over again, confessing your sins to him, instead of the ambient rumpus caused by the motors of vehicles driving a few meters away or the laughs of some friends enjoying their Saturday night.

*Why can't I get this liar out of my head? I want it to stop!*

Bzzt bzzt. Bzzt bzzt.

Oh? Finally, he actually felt something else other than pain. A familiar vibration came from the pocket of his denim jacket, right under his hand that had barely been in contact with fresh air ever since he had stepped out of the apartment blocks, confined in this restricted space so that he wouldn't use his tensed fist to smash everything around him, or maybe everyone.

Mark was disgusted by every single human being on earth right now, the sour taste of betrayal making him want to spit at anyone he came across, or ditch a less than appropriated bunch of words, his tongue burning from all the insults and hurtful words he hadn't thrown into your face so that he'd feel at least a little bit better.

Jackson [00:47 AM] : Bro, where you at? It's been almost two hours since you disappeared, we're kind of worried (I said KIND OF) so at least let us know that you're alive if you don't want to tell where you went to…?

Well, maybe not every single human being…

Mark sighed at the sight of his screen as he felt soothed momentarily by remembering the best friends he could count on, with the premises of a touched smile tingling at the corner of his dry lips. Then, before he had taken the time to think back of it, he was already typing something frenetically, biting at his lower lip as he came to anticipate the next message.

Mark [00:47 AM] : Is she still here?

Thankfully though, it seemed that Jackson had been staring at his phone anxiously with just as carefulness as Mark had been doing, because less than a minute after, a text popped up again.

Jackson [00:47 AM] : No, she left. And we won't ask any questions.

Mark [00:48 AM] : I'll start walking back. Don't know exactly where I am, but it's downtown, dw.

Why did his heart feel disappointed that you weren't here anymore? Mark looked up to the street lamps as if they would give him an answer, yet the yellow light wasn't keen on helping him feel better as he didn't absorb any calming sensation from its warm shine, and the fire within him got even more ignited at his question left unanswered.

What would have he said to you back home anyway? His brain was willing to despise you and to regret having met you ; still, somewhere in his heart, it ached. His chest was aching at every single trembling beat of his life organ, because Mark was going under a heartbreak. He had been persuaded he couldn't get more crushed into pieces than he had been ever since his accident, but your impact on him proved him wrong, and it hurt.

It hurt because you had been the glue that had fixed his fragile self, yet everything was falling apart once again, and the price of the pain felt as worse as the one he had faced back in the car. It hurt to realize that, he had cherished you that much in such a mere time, so much that he could come to a comparison between you and his mother that had been supposed to be the only woman filling a special place, but now you had dug yours, and deeply.

It hurt to hear a tiny voice inside his head wishing it wasn't true, wishing he could hear you out once more, wishing he could try to figure it out, when the right choice was supposed to be the one he had made earlier : throw a con-artist out of his life.

"Are you okay, boy?" a raspy voice coming from his left startled Mark who turned around, meeting with a little old man wearing nothing but a brown parka which was half-opened, and a pair of more than used shorts, and when he entered the circle of light, Mark saw how tired his facial muscles were and how tousled was his hair.

The blonde nodded slowly, feeling sorry for this hobo that was smiling gently at him, approaching him until he could smell the strong scent of alcohol coming from his clothes.

"You sure? You don't look like it, boy" the man overbid while hiding his dirty but damaged hands into the pockets of his way too large coat.

Mark nodded once more and would have gladly returned the question, persuaded it would have given a bit of light into the world of this man that surely was darker than his own even during this night of despair. He then opted for a basic sign language to indicate him he couldn't talk, to which the hobo shook his head too, his smile seeming brighter to Mark than all the street lamps.

"It comes and goes, boy, the pain. See, it only takes a smile to feel better! So smile, hm? Put that moody face away and smile! It will go away, and you'll get stronger. You only need to stay positive, see? And to stick by the people who truly love you! That's important, that's really important. I didn't do it, and here I am, boy. Well I don't think I'd be where I am if I had had people by my side those past years, but because I think of my mom up there who loved me and looks upon me, I'm still alive and living, hm? So give me a smile, and get straight home, and tomorrow you'll feel better, believe me. You're young, you still have a lot of tomorrows."

Mark felt his heart constrict in his chest and the remaining tears he had blocked filling back the crease of his tired eyelids, but to thank this man who had helped appeasing his aching even for a few seconds, he swallowed them back once more and he gave that smile he had been asked for.

"That's right, that's right! Good night, boy. I don't want you to end up like me, so go home now!"

Mark felt his lower lip tremble, sign of his intern struggle to fight his urge to cry, so he quickly bowed the hobo goodbye and he spun on his heels before taking his steps towards the climb waiting for him. And even if his ears were deaf because he was bathing under an endless ocean of mixed emotions, those few words of comfort still had made their way through to his heart which suddenly felt lighter than a feather, and with his eyes now looking up to the sky as he, too, thought of his mother now, but with a smile rather than a frown the mysterious man had managed to erase.

                           Tomorrow's a better day, he said. *I won't think of this liar anymore. I won't feel anything anymore. I won't, ever again.*

Park Jinyoung [00:50 AM] : Got some news. He's on his way back, don't worry. Take care, Y/N.

You had been staring at some kind of invisible void on your ceiling for the past two hours, waiting for this very text you had merely asked for before you had went out of the boys' apartment. It wasn't the shame that had made you run away right after your group of friends had come to check on you, once Mark had slammed the door with only your sobs to give a hint about what happened ; it was his voice that you were still hearing, even now that you were secured under your blankets.

You had thought it was because he had probably been roaming around the neighborhood that you were still catching his thoughts, but now that you had finally fled past the limits of your ability yourself, you were truly doubting that Mark could remain in the same perimeter, so close that you could hear his low voice in your head as if he was talking next to you.

What was happening? Was it your power's way to punish you for having used it in a wrong way for so long? Were you condemned to be a sinner by keeping on invading his privacy even from far away?

But I just couldn't stop it.

Or was it another evolution you couldn't explain? But why now, with him? Wasn't his feeling of betrayal and him pushing you away supposed to mute it forever, just like it had back with Myeoli?

It was worse than a living nightmare, as your insomnia was making you wonder if you weren't going crazy and imagining things into your head with a list of reasons to prove its point : because of your terrible guilt, because you were too damn fond of the boy, because during those last three weeks you had been obsessing over your love story he had been about to write the next page of tonight.

Every single note of his voice was making you fall for this paranoia theory as you couldn't accept that your ability would ever do that to you. However, as the pinch marks on your arms went deeper just like the night, and as you tossed and turned on the mattress with a cushion wrapped around your head in order to duct any sound, you were left with no choice except to face it as the truth : you weren't crazy, but constantly hearing him.

*I shouldn't be hurting. I shouldn't be whining like a baby. I shouldn't care. Fuck you, Y/N.* Tomorrow's a better day, tomorrow's a better day. Tomorrow I'll be fine.

You hadn't any water left in your tired body, so you only frowned and caught your breath every time his thoughts seeped into your ears, which meant every single minute of the long night you were trapped in. You wished you could fall asleep, but his beautiful voice was contrasting with his hurtful yet justified words, keeping your eyes wide open and your heartbeat at a fast pace, as instead of dragging you to sleep like any well-told story would, you took it like a horror tale putting you into a shuddering state.

                   You were woken up early in the morning by Mark's voice into your head. It had been empty from any dreams for you to escape to, probably because even when you had fallen asleep at some point, the boy had kept ranting until a late late time, when he had finally decided to take a pill so he'd succumb to his tiredness or else he would have turned mad from his internal torture, just as you had been about to do.

You were glad that your body needs to rest had taken over your mind and put you to sleep despite your head being actively solicited, yet you felt completely worn out. Your eyes were puffy and you almost screamed at your reflection in the mirror ; but thankfully, it was Sunday, so nobody would have the bad luck to come across a zombie trailing its soulless body in the streets, as you were planning to stay indoors and mourn over your love story's death.

*I feel a thousand times worse... I guess it's not for today.*

*Look at you Mark, you look like shit. How are you supposed to face your boss like that? What are you going to tell him? Sorry boss I've got heartbro- What am I even thinking*

You chuckled sadly as you had been sharing the same thoughts as him after eyeing your figure this morning, until the residues of the word "heartbroken" resounded between your head walls, making you gasp. In the middle of all the gloom clouding over your mind, a ray of happiness pierced its way as you came to realize that he sincerely cared about you so that he could use this word ; yet, it was soon replaced by a wave of guilt and regret plaguing your thoughts.

You had broken his heart. Him who was so fragile had let someone enter this secretive and unstable world of his, but that very visitor was the reason why he was even more messed up than before, with her short path having crushed everything on its way to his heart. How great of a work for a future psychiatrist!

Woodam had always told you to deal with your acts and to take responsibilities whenever you'd hurt someone because of your power or whenever you made mistakes under its influence ; but this morning, and the morning after, and the following ones during this new hellish week that turned out to be worse than the ones before, all you felt like was moping around and crying again and again instead of assuming the consequences like a grown-up would do – by dealing silently with the pain that was well-deserved, for example. So you cried on your couch, you cried under your shower, you cried while feeding yourself, and you cried yourself to sleep at night.

You couldn't get over your sadness, even less with Mark's voice proving you how bad of a time he was having ever since you had parted, as he was starting to hate every single thing about his life all over again, not forgetting to curse your name once or twice per day but without failing to betray his feelings for you at the same time, pulling you down at your worst state.

I want to see her...  I miss her. *I hate that I miss her. Why do I miss that girl? Why did I get attached to her? When did I get like that? You need to get stronger, remember*

*Are you hearing me right now, huh? I hope you don't, or else you'll know how bad I am doing because of you, and I fucking can't let you do that. No, I can't. You don't have the right to know…* That I still care about you.

You both liked each other, but you had drifted your worlds too far apart for you to reach out to him.

Everything's my fault. Everything's my fault.

                                               Nevertheless, this situation wasn't meant to last, as you knew you shouldn't keep on drowning into your own sin by letting yourself get a hold of Mark's intimate feelings. So after a few days of enduring it and trying to focus on your classes even when his voice would cover the professors' crucial teaching, your heavy steps trailed you towards the only light at the end of your repentance tunnel : Woodam.

He was the unlucky individual on whom you could transfer the weight of your power by asking for his help, and you craved for it the most right now. It had been a hard decision, to resolve yourself to cut the last bit of a connection you had with Mark that had outdone the distance he had drawn between the both of you, still you weren't in the right to be greedy and selfish. You had wronged him enough while he had been blind to it, so it was just awful to repeat the pattern behind his back, and it was your own way to respect his harsh one of ending things. By letting him go too, definitely.

You were welcomed by an empty waiting room as you came late on purpose, in hopes of being Woodam's last case so that you'd raise your chances to get out of his cabinet with a lighter heart and relieved eardrums, and for that to happen, you were conscious that it would take time. You had only made one phone call in the morning, and your godfather had probably heard the despair in your tired vocals while you had asked if you could meet without explaining your reasons, as he had outright ordered you to come by before the end of the day.

*I knew smiling wouldn't do it. I can't smile all by myself, that's ridiculous.*

*Hey, are you that desperate that you're listening to a hobo's words like it's the law now?*

*The guys would be laughing at me if they saw where I'm going. How come I slept in?* Let's get that medical certificate quickly, he's the only one who'll give it to me.

*I don't recognize myself, seriously. She messed me up so bad.*

You deeply sighed with your head falling back against the white wall behind you, and your knuckles turned the same pale color on your knees as you clutched onto them out of anxiety, your urge to get rid of his voice having a heated fight with your fear of definitely losing him without a way back.

*C'mon, turn around you twat. You hate this place so much.* You'll find a way yourself like you always did, right?

"Where are you going that it makes you so anxious…" you wondered out loud as your livid eyes were fixed on the rank of unoccupied seats facing you.

Yet, if you really would have liked an answer despite your question being rhetorical, you hadn't expected it to be so on point, as the man your heart was crying over passed the waiting room's door, acknowledging you only once he had sat down on the chair precisely opposed to yours.

Your sad eyes met, a crescent light suddenly illuminating his chocolate brown irises and making them livelier than the last time he had looked at your face with all his anger having conquered them. Your heart skipped a beat and your crossed legs started to tremble so much that they refused to take you away and leave his sight even when your mind commanded them to.

You felt scared, scared of what he'd do, what he'd say, what he'd come to think of. You had dreaded this moment as much as you had wished for it to happen, his face with its beautiful traits remaining the most precious souvenir for you to picture in your mind, even when it was painted with the tern colors of sadness, even when it hurt really bad when you did so.

Your lips parted a few times, but your vocal chords had turned sore so no sound came out. You spotted his jaw clenching, and Mark exhaled loudly through his nose before finally letting go of your intense exchange of stares to concentrate on his phone he started to type on.

You couldn't hear anything for the first time in almost a week, and tears of relief that he wasn't hating on you now that he was seeing you again were on the verge of falling down on your steaming cheeks ; however, you repelled them as you knew he'd get mad if you, the one who was actually making him suffer, dared to show sorrow when you had done this to the two of you in the first place.

"You came because you heard I was coming?" his phone speaker relayed his salty message and you rolled your eyes, not spotting how his mouth turned down in disapproval at what had seemed like your nonchalance.

"I came here as a patient too" you answered frankly, crossing your arms on your chest.

Mark chuckled and you dared to eye him again, his smile giving you the chills and constricting your already hurting throat, so you coughed your embarrassment away.

*She's got no shame I swear- You're doing unwell? You? But you were really well all this time when you were scheming this shit so what's going on now, poor girl?*

Bingo.

"I can hear you, y'know" you provoked him this time, feeling hurt in the end by what you had expected to happen, because he would never understand you were actually here for him and not for you, or more accurately, he would never let you tell him about it.

Mark almost cursed at you out loud and you saw his body jolt at your bold confession, before he leaned back in his chair with another long sigh escaping his rosy lips your eyes suddenly fell for again, gazing at them without blinking.

"And no, I wasn't okay with doing this but I just couldn't help it-" you interrupted yourself with a sigh, your pupils going back to his own that were sending a jaded stare. "Whatever, you wouldn't trust me no matter what I'll say."

You quickly had given up on justifying yourself, the guilt evidently twisting your tongue as you knew no excuses could truly make up for how betrayed he felt.

*Exactly. I don't wanna know, I don't care. And no, I don't trust you. How can someone like you can even talk about trust? Do you hear yourself?* he thought while looking at you expectantly, wishing you could hear him this time as well, being too lazy to transcribe his running thoughts.

Mark had accumulated a lot of contradictory feelings during the past few days, and now that he shared the same space and oxygen as you, his mind was telling him to address you in the coldest way he could, the resentment suddenly being dominant ; yet, his heart was crying internally as it was desperate for an explanation, anything, that could make him trust you again. That could make him forgive himself to have fallen for you. That could give him an excuse to still like you and still see something more in you even in this instant.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I really am, I…"

Three words were pending at the edge of your soggy tongue. I like you. I really like you, I've always liked you.

All of a sudden, your nose began to itch as well as your shivering eyelids, some waterworks rolling down your face but you quickly brushed them in hopes he wouldn't catch them ; however, he did. His heart tightened at the mere sight of your suffering once again, but in accordance with his intern contradiction, the blonde also felt incredibly annoyed to be affected by your well-being.

*She did me wrong! How much weaker did I get to continue feeling like this towards her? Less than a piece of shit? What the hell is wrong with me?!*

Unfortunately for him, those distressed thoughts caused you to cry wholeheartedly this time and you really got ready to leave, hands on the armrests to lift your wobbly-self up, when you remembered that distance no longer could save you from this infernal situation.

"Stop crying, would you?" his phone speaker told you and you looked up to him.

"Should I? I was hoping you'd feel satisfied at the sight and stop thinking so hard about me, stop hurting because of me, stop whatever's bothering you with me" you straightly retorted while wiping your face again, your fingertips trembling on your skin as much as your voice that stroke his heart.

*Do you think it's that easy?* he scoffed in his head and his face broke into a mere smile before he poked his cheek with his tongue annoyingly. *Yeah, I truly hope you're feeling guilty for what you've done to me, because that's the least you can do.*

But still, I'm not into sadism, so no, seeing you cry doesn't do me any good…, he tried to appease his budding rage, remembering the wise words of the unknown back on Saturday night as they were the only leitmotiv he was hanging onto so he wouldn't lose his mind.

Be stronger. It'll go away. Calm down. *She's not worthy of your attention.* Calm d-

"Do you really care about what I think or feel about this situation?" you shrugged lazily, his killing stare at you making you reply back instantly as it was absorbing your mind control as well. "Because you won't give me a chance to explain myself nor accept my apologies anyway so…"

Your frustration had spoken for itself, because you were reminded of his melancholic thoughts about you, how he missed you more than he despised you, his issues making your heart soft and vulnerable, and your arms tensed as they were craving to surround his neck and bring your lips to his.

He was so close yet so far, and this push-and-pull situation was going all the way up to attack your nerves, unravelling your desperate want to win his feelings back instead of telling you to lie low as any guilty person should.

*Are you really turning this against me right now? Are we really having this kind of conversation?* Mark got offended as he redressed himself in his chair, making you shy away in yours as you pushed your back further against the wall.

"That's right, I shouldn't have said that, you're the good one here…" you acquiesced with an absent-minded smile pulling at the corner of your lips, your eyes glued to the ground that was blurred by the few pearls of water stuck to your eyelashes. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I swear I'm sincerely sorry about what happened…"

What happened is that I like you now, so *who's to blame in the end, huh? You, or the fool?* Mark regretted as your few words had been able to ease his pain at least a little, showing him he cared about your apologies when he wished he wouldn't.

He couldn't quite decipher what you could hear from what you couldn't, so he only breathed out while shaking his head from the left to the right in defeat, before looking away from your problematic figure in front of him, towards the corridor ending in the magical door from which you both hoped you'd come out in a little less distraught state than now.

The room fell into a thick silence sometimes interrupted by your sniffling or his deep breathing breaking into a sigh, your gaze at each other never meeting as you did your best at avoiding it, still neither of you had the true will to step out. It was as if the tension was attracting your bodies to one another like magnets, keeping them at this safe yet uncomfortable distance.

*… How I wish I had never let myself get interested by her. Everything before her was simpler.* Mark was trying to convince himself as he brushed his fair hair with his ringed and elegantly long fingers, revealing the wrinkles on his forehead as his brows were knotted in confusion.

Your eyes finally found each other and you bit at your bottom lip, accepting his regrets even if they scattered your being, and another time, you wanted to disappear by vanishing from the room right here right now, so that he'd feel at peace. Well, would he really stop thinking about you?

*But was it even better? Was I, without her? I don't know anymore. Shit, you're probably hearing me again, aren't you?* he wondered with his dark eyes scanning your flustered face.

"How I wish I had other words to tell you how I never meant to do you wrong" you hinted at the answer.

*Stop apologizing Y/N, I beg you, you're not having me with this bullshit and those pleading eyes, you said it yourself* he laughed sarcastically in his head while defying you with his pupils that shined with irritation once again.

Calm down. That's it, smile.

The sorrier you felt, the more he wanted to believe in you ; but he just couldn't do this to himself, he couldn't let love do this to himself when it had deceived him so bad. Also, he couldn't find easiness in your eyes that looked at him somehow lovingly, as he only saw his fears of getting trapped into his feelings for you when he was trying to win over them.

*Don't look at me like that.*

Your cheeks got filled with blood but your stare didn't drop under his stern voice. His order resembled a pled, and Mark gulped as he was trying hard not to fall deeper for your face and its perfect details he despite him had been scared of forgetting every time he had thought of it – every single day that is to say.

"Then what can I do? What do you need me to do so you'd feel better? I-I'll just do it! That's all I want and ever wanted!" you rushed in a desperate tone, your heart screaming at you to make up for what you had done, at all costs and by all means before you wouldn't meet ever again.

But you shouldn't have asked what he wasn't able to answer, as it was the most sensitive part in Mark's inner conflict about you. That was the black hole in his universe of wonderings about your sincerity, that he couldn't fill with any fitting solution which would stop the happiness you had procured him from getting sucked up. That was the heart of the matter : did he need you in or out of his life to feel better?

*But you can't do ANYTHING! You put us into this situation, I have to deal with it, so deal with too! That's it, I hate you so much right now! You're here crying when you're responsible for it! I fucking hate your crying face! I can't bear to see it, you hear me? Look at what you've done to me! Look where I am because of you! I'm seeing my psychiatrist because of you! Because you're eating my brain!*

Mark was breathing loudly again, his fists clenched on his thighs while the veins on his temples and going down his long neck had popped out. He couldn't explain his sudden switch of emotions, from a faint irritation to an explosive one, and he slammed his back against his chair in frustration, but with his eyes still locked on yours. He was so confused in the midst of his mixed feelings that he felt like losing it.

Had he just imagined himself kissing you angrily, right after having shouted internally at you?

He definitely wasn't loathing you, but he was loathing himself for having been unable to stay faithful to the pain and disgust you had put him through once he had landed his eyes on you again. As your conversation had unwound, his divided heart and mind finally accorded themselves on one point : the one that deep down, he already knew he was wanting you in his life, not to reject you forever.

Why couldn't he just ignore you and move on?

You were quivering and your head had started to spin under that flood of sentences that had invaded your skull, and your eyes grew wide open, letting Mark know you had heard everything. He let out a shaky laugh just as he had back in his bedroom, his heartbeat being so up-tempo that he believed the bloody organ would explode sooner or later just like a time bomb.

How come you were able to peel it to its deepest, making him confess over and over again his feelings for you even through words that were supposed to be filled with hatred? He knew you knew, however, you knew he didn't know you were feeling exactly the same for him, if not more.

I fucking like you too and I am going crazy because of you too.

But you left your mouth shut, as you clearly couldn't claim his love nor his understanding anymore. He was right, you had to endure it, twice more than him, or surely thrice.

"Well Mark you're here too? Without any appointment? Y/N was supposed to be my last patient, but come along as well!" a familiar voice suddenly cut through the palpable tension and both of your heads snapped towards Woodam who was standing at the entrance of the waiting room, an amused smile plastered on his face.

"Wait what?"

*Is that a fucking joke*

"You're each other's problem, so let's try to solve it in one go" he shrugged with his witty eyes going back and forth between Mark and you, both having your mouth agape.

"How-"

Woodam's frank chuckle cut you through your perplexed interrogation.

"I saw it from the way you were looking at each other the second I approached. You guys didn't even notice me or the previous patient coming out! So come on, both of you!"

Mark and you shared an unsatisfied look before following behind the psychiatrist, each one of you rummaging through your thoughts as this simple declaration sounding too damn well like the truth had made your hearts turn somehow warm. How exactly had you been looking at each other?

                                               Mark took over the famous leather sofa, while you had to go behind your usual desk to take out your personal chair and place it in front of Woodam's office, the furthest possible from the blonde guy who grabbed the writing tools your godfather was handing him.

"I can't do this if he's here" you spoke up solemnly, your eyes supplying the latter desperately, but his quiet laugh indicated you that your request was done for.

"I can't do this if she's here" Mark had written as well, and that's what had made Woodam chuckle in the first place.

You rapidly turned your head towards the fake-mute, who agitated gladly the paper before your two eyes with a hypocrite smile.

"Well I'm not a couple therapist anyway, but I still think we can manage to solve at least a bit of your concerns if you hear yourselves out before being alone with me" your godfather sighed. "And I know what you're realizing right now Mark, but let me be clear : I don't care that she's my niece, she came to consult me and so did you so I'll hear you both out equally, without prejudices"

Mark slowly nodded as he once again faced the talent of perception this doctor had, never failing to hit the right spot without it being expressly exposed to him.

"I still don't want to talk if he's here. I'm embarrassed enough that you know about… Us…"

*Oh because there was an us? Sorry I didn't know, thought I was a toy or something* Mark bitched and when he spotted your look at him from the corner of your eye, he chuckled discretely.

Nothing could stop him and his sassiness anymore, as it was his only shell against your powerful influence on him, and you weren't glad to come across the Mark that had leapt you out of your usual patience the first time you had been reunited in this room.

"Could you please stop making assumptions?! Oh my God I-" you started with your hands up in objection and your eyes shut.

"Y/N, I didn't say anything." Woodam interfered with a serious look that made your hot blood from the frustration at Mark's thoughts turn incredibly cold the second you reopened your eyelids to acknowledge your godfather, and you bit the interior of your cheek. "Wait- Does he know?"

Oops, you had flared up way too hastily and with way too much carelessness once again, betraying your latest secret – or more accurately burden – in no time. You didn't recognize yourself, as you had always been prudent with your actions and words, up till Mark. Love could definitely make one go crazy… You hadn't planned to tell Woodam that you had blown up all his and your parents' hard work at protecting you, at least not like that, and the deep tone of his voice had proved you it had been the right decision.

Mark chuckled another time before writing busily, his hands shaking as he immediately knew what Woodam had been referring to.

"So you know she can hear thoughts and you invite her to your cabinet? She can violate every patient's intimacy and you're okay with that? Or maybe you're using that to make it seem like you know what's up with us? What's wrong with you people?"

You had heard every single word that he had laid on his now almost crumpled sheet as he was holding it in a tensed grasp, and your heart burst at all his wrong and hurtful interrogations. You were about to refute each one of them, but Woodam held his hand up as he knew you and your impulsions as if he was your own father. He then got closer to his desk and looked at the both of you with some kind of tenderness in his eyes, a look that made you want to cry as you felt even more unworthy of this man's kindness.

"Was she there the first day we met and even the following times, Mark?" he simply asked.

The blonde's brows furrowed and he frowned as he didn't even have to think back of the answer he knew to be a no, and he somehow felt displeased to be at a loss of words before your godfather, once more.

"I guess you know the answer, yet didn't I got close to the problem without her? Y/N is my niece, and I'm the only one, besides her parents and unfortunately you, now, to know her secret. They came to me because well, I'm not doing my job that badly I think, so they asked for my help. And I tried to help. I'm still trying to help. But never did I use her talents to do what I have to do, and never has she intended to do so. You might not see it now, and I understand you, but that thing is more of a burden for her than anything else. I'm teaching her to control it thanks to the few things I know from my studies and experience, sometimes even from the Internet, but if you think that lowly of me, you can step out right now" he explained calmly, each one of his sentences picked up with caution and cutting deep through Mark's mistrust as he now felt sorry towards him too.

Seeing that Mark wasn't moving, his eyes lowering to his feet, Woodam nodded in satisfaction before turning his head to you.

"So a crush is all it takes for you to spill it out, hm?"

You didn't know if he was teasing you or scolding you, so you lowered your head and your bust to apologize, your guilt taking over the embarrassment coming from him exposing your – even if evident – feelings for Mark right for his two ears to savor. And secretly, the concerned felt hot flames drool on his body as he had heard what he had wished to be true, even if it came from the mouth of someone else : you liking him, for real.

"I'm sorry." you only muttered, your tears threatening to come out as the memories of all his time spent advising you with consideration were passing right before your two eyes.

"I'm not mad, Y/N. I'm just… Worried. How come you have told him? I just want to understand, you've always been so careful."

You had so much to say, but how would Mark hear it or take it? You hesitated as you played nervously with your fingers between your legs, then you finally straightened yourself to face the unpleasing situation you were responsible for anyway.

Mark's heartbeat was once again going over its capacities and the boy almost whined as he felt like puking, the anticipation of your answer knotting his stomach. If he had hated the idea of sharing the same room as you in the first place, he was now the most attentive and interested spectator. Maybe Woodam's questions would put an end to his own and set him free from his attraction to you?

"I just had to tell him, because my worries went further than where they would have been if I hadn't heard some things. I couldn't help but hear him, Woodam" your voice was trembling as Mark's stare coming from your right was scorching every cell of your skin. "I couldn't stop it like we learned, and what's worse now is that I…"

You nibbled at your lower lip before brushing your face with your two hands, and you did your best to counter Mark's strong aura next to you that would have deported your body towards the exit like a coward.

*What could be worse than that* he thought on a still sarcastic tone, when in fact he was scared to death of what else you could possibly have done to him, scared to be hurt twice as he wasn't sure he could take the pill this time – had he even digested the first one?

"I can hear him all the time, Woodam, and I'm tired. I don't wanna hear him anymore, I've done enough wrong. But distance does nothing to it, and I don't understand, I want it to stop I can't go on like this"

Your head fell as well as your shoulders, and you perceived the sound of Mark standing up pretty brutally next to you, the leather chair grating against the floor.

*What do you mean you can hear me all the time?!* his panicked voice froze you into your seat.

You hated this tone. You hated to hear him lose his mind because of you and what you were made of, and that's all you had been doing for almost a week. Your need to cry was urgent so you looked up to the ceiling, not even landing your eyes on Mark who, on the contrary, couldn't stop staring at you with horror.

"Mark, sit down please" Woodam invited him along with a move of his hand.

With squinted eyelids, the boy did as told as in fact his heart didn't want him to leave this room unless it'd feel at ease, from anything to fit as a remedy, would it be you killing the rest of it.

"I think it's another evolution, Y/N, we haven't faced this one yet. But… How should I put this?" your godfather pondered while rubbing his hands against each other. "I think that, unfortunately, your own feelings are what influences it. Sometimes it helps you duct it when you care about someone, but this time it's the reverse, because you feel…"

"Fucking guilty." you sobbed, two pearls of water tracing straight corridors down your cheeks, and you blinked a few times to chase the followings away.

"I was about to say "things for Mark", actually" Woodam corrected, and your heart dropped in the pit of your stomach while your ears became hotter than the sun itself.

*So you knew what you did was bad, but you still let yourself come close to me? You really are something else, are you a sadist? When you like someone you love to do them wrong, is that it? That's your thing?*

Mark knew you could hear him as you finally turned your body to him, your eyes suddenly shining with anger, and he somehow felt intimidated under your stare. But he couldn't prevent his mixed feelings from shaking him from one side to another, one where he felt sorry for you and for treating you like this because he could definitely hear your sincerity – even if he refused to see it –, and the other where his sense of betrayal was still igniting a fire within his guts.

"Well did you ever think that I did what I did because I DO LIKE YOU and I thought I could help you thanks to this, once again because I DO LIKE YOU?! And you, why are you not really hating me if you're claiming to do so? Why are you not throwing me out of your life when you said "screw you" to me? Because if you really did, I wouldn't be hearing your thoughts right now! Not a single thing! And that would be perfect, you could live your life and I could live my own, so what's happening? I know I cheated, I KNOW, so I don't want to hear you because I don't want to do you wrong anymore, you know that? I DON'T WANT TO, I'M TIRED!" you finally confessed shamelessly, breathing having been an option more than a vital obligation, to the point your head felt like it was inflating like a balloon.

*Wait is it my fault again?! Is this a fucking joke?!* Mark pierced you with two wide-opened eyes that supported your furious gaze.

Yet his justified indignation and pain didn't bring you back to the reality and didn't shut your mouth this time, as you were really as exhausted as you claimed. This vicious circle was sucking up all your patience, and everything you had wished to pour out before him as a last goodbye was coming out of your mouth but twisted with rage, as his words were hurting you more than you thought they would.

You had thought you could take it as you had thought you deserved them, but on the other side, your knowledge of his shared feelings for you was pushing you over the edge. If he liked you as much as he seemed to, why couldn't you win his forgiveness? Weren't you worth it? Were you that devilish?

"Stop thinking about me, forget about me, hate on me, I know I deserve it! I'm not someone worth of your attention, am I?!" you shouted desperately, nothing to stop you now that you had started.

*You must be kidding me! Are you always that self-centered? Did I ever say I needed you? Did I ever wish for you to get close to me? I never asked anything from you. You decided to do whatever you wanted, because you're fucking selfish!*

"So I'm imagining things into my head when I hear your voice?" you replied instantly.

*Yes you are, you're fucking crazy. I'm not interested in you, not anymore. It was nothing to me. You're the one liking me so much you're messing up with whatever your power is. That's not my business* he pursued in his favorite aggressive tone, his fists clenching over the armrest as well as his jaw that could cut even the air.

"It IS when YOU wanted me to pay attention to you all night long at Johnny's party and you were whining about it to the point I was having a headache, it IS when YOU begged me to stay at your place and not to leave you behind and swearing there was more to it, it IS when YOU are thinking that you fucking miss me even this morning and I can hear every single bit of it!" you barked back, in a pure state of bliss as you were assisting to his perfect roleplay all over again, almost making you euphoric.

Mark's eyes widened quickly while his rib cage started to rise up and down powerfully, his loud breathing sounding like a background noise to you now that you were used to his way of containing his emotions. His cheeks and ears had turned red at you pointing out every piece of his heart he had left behind to prove himself wrong, and his lips parted but you didn't flinch under his darkening stare, your own defying any black holes up in the galaxy. Touché?

*I don't like you and I don't need you in my life, do you still hear me? I don't like you, I don't like anything about you because it's everything I hate. Is that enough? I can think of that all day long, if that's what I need to get you out of my head! That's not a problem!*

"So much time to grant a monster like me, thanks" you had the ending word and, somehow, as you weren't looking at elsewhere but him, you noticed that Mark's traits softened at your own pejorative designation.

Every single phrase you had just shared up till now spoke of the uncontrollable feelings you both couldn't admit, and if it was too hard at the moment to let them pave the way to an eventual reconciliation, each one of you was suddenly starting to think of how bad you wanted to kiss those painful events goodbye at the back of your messy heads, as your electric stares were slowly relocking your souls to each other.

Woodam knocked on his desk to interrupt this one-sided argument – at least from his point of view – and you flopped back on your chair, crying out loud for the second time in less than an hour. Mark's world was stopped, your blunt confession about your feelings for him still banging against his head walls and almost being the only thing he could remember, so that his irritation was already gone.

"Alright alright, everybody calm down" the psychiatrist spoke up quietly.

You were trembling in a devastating fury but you still managed to get up, the need to calm yourself down and away from Mark pulling at your body parts.

"You said that's because I like him?" you asked Woodam in a weak voice.

"That's what I think" the latter confirmed. "Sit down Y/N we're going to talk this out"

"No, you know what? If this is the problem, then I don't think anyone can fix this except myself. I should have thought of it sooner. So I'll fix my witch ass, I'll stop liking him or any other man who'll then be lucky enough to be spared from getting close to me, because it's just not okay to do this to someone. Look at what I've done, look. That's what I told you, I'm a witch, I'm a freaking monster. It can't be helped."

Mark didn't dare to land his eyes on you as you stormed out of the cabinet with huge footsteps, and once you closed the door, he let out a sigh before landing his elbows on his knees, the weight of this strong argument finally falling on his shoulders. He didn't feel okay nor pleased with what you had just said about yourself. He hadn't seen you like that even if terrible things had crossed his mind ever since you had dropped the bomb on him ; however he wasn't able to come after you.

What am I feeling, for God's sake? What do I want?

"Mark, let me ask you a question" his doctor suddenly shook him out of his thoughts, and the blonde merely nodded without acknowledging him, his head in his hands facing the ground.

"Did Y/N ever use her powers against you, like to hurt you?"

                                                        "It's your second pill in three hours already, could you slow down Y/N?" Jena asked you as you were gulping down the little white capsule with fresh water, your migraine not seeming to go away.

A new week had started and you were still hearing Mark's torments, and even if you could be happy about the diminution of the number of sentences per day, it appeared that your constant headache would only be satisfied by full silence. You couldn't even decipher what he was torturing himself about sometimes, his trail of thoughts messy, and you even had come to ask yourself if he hadn't been drunk two or three times since you had met at Woodam's cabinet.

But what was still standing out and shooting bullets at your void heart, was him longing for you. He was cursing himself because he kept on thinking about you and wondering what was right or wrong to feel, and you weren't relieved that he liked you back anymore. You were now hoping he'd forget about your awful person pretty soon, so that he'd lead an easier life and leave you to deal with the burden alone.

You were barely bearing yourself, continuously wishing you could switch bodies with someone who was living out of the dark depths of the untold feelings one could have ; who could love somebody without hurting them constantly, without betraying them, without terrifying them ; who could wake up in the morning and go to bed at night while wondering innocently about how his or her lover was doing, not being forced to face the fact that they had marked him or her with bruises taking a long time to heal.

"I didn't know you were subject to migraines…" Joon Hee doubted as she caressed slightly the top of your skull, with a smile as soft as her touch.

"I didn't know either, I think I'm tired because we're approaching the end of the semester" you tried to explain and your friends nodded silently, but their frowns still betrayed their worry about you.

"Your dark circles are really bad babe" Cho A confessed and all you did was let out a laugh as you couldn't agree more. "But what about I hide them with make up tonight, because we're going out!"

"We are? It's Wednesday though" you suspected, your brow arching before you laid your elbows on the campus' grass you were chilling on during a break.

"Yes, Jinyoung's hosting a party at the apartment tonight" Jena smiled and she threw her hands up before you as she saw you were about to growl. "Mark won't be there! He won't be there, don't worry, he's working until late"

You sighed and sat up properly, annoyed by the fact that your heart had hammered against your torso the second his name had slipped past her lips.

"I'm not going. Late means he'll still show up at some point and I don't want to see him, ever again." you rejected firmly, but Joon Hee grabbed your arm and shook your upper body gently.

"We didn't ask any questions because you didn't want us to, but I'm way too curious right now! Even the boys don't know anything, Mark won't talk! All we know is you're both looking like messes, so what happened in the end?!" she moaned while bending forward to catch your stare as you tried to escape this interview.

"I did him wrong and he can't forgive me and he's right, that's it" you resumed, your eyes becoming hot and you almost cursed at yourself out loud as you assumed they wanted to spill water, again.

"I know you Y/N, we all know you, and you wouldn't hurt a fly. I'm fine with ignoring what's going on between the both of you talking about it is uncomfortable for you, it's his loss! Anyway, you're coming! Forget about him for a while and have some fun tonight, with us, hm?" Jena tried to cheer you up, ending with a pout, which made your sullen face broke into a smile. "He won't be there, his friends are nice and I made them promise not to mention him, so please?"

"You said it yourself, it's almost the end of the semester, we have to enjoy before we'll have to study for the exams" Cho A added lazily as she nudged you.

You knew your body and mind would only thank you if you granted them the right to let it go after having used them to lynch and neglect yourself for almost two weeks. How come your friends were always so good at convincing you with poor arguments, even when your intuition was telling you it wouldn't be as perfect as they claimed it would be? Mark lived there so at any hour of the night, you would end up meeting him, and the worse would come out of it.

"We can go once he shows up" Joon Hee offered. "I'll drive you home! Just come a little bit, you need to cool off"

You sighed loudly so they knew that such an exhalation of air was the signal of their victory, and you were embedded into a group hug that soothed your sorrowful heart.

"I'll go the second I see him, even if it's not past midnight" you mumbled into the embrace and they laughed at your grumpy self.

"Deaaaaal" they sung altogether, freeing you from their love with mischievous smiles plastered on their lips.

                                   Two hours or so later.

           You had finally immerged yourself into the party, the dancefloor becoming yours to chase your worries away and the laughs your extra-caring group of friends were giving you helping to forget about Mark for a while. You were surprised by how empty your eardrums had been since you had entered the flat, the music deliciously flowing into them instead, as if the girls had been right about this alternative to make you feel better – in other words to duct your power.

But you should have known better, that your intuition had been the right one just like when it had whispered to you no to go to the dinner last time. Because as you were waiting for Joon Hee to pour you some drinks, your eyes abruptly halted on his silhouette at the back of the living room, and he was staring right back at you.

For how long had he been standing there? You hadn't seen him come through the front door nor crossed his path in this room that wasn't big enough for you to avoid each other forever. How come you noticed him just now?

Mark was wearing a white tank top under an oversized red checkered shirt, and a ripped pair of black jeans. His hair was styled up neatly, but his face had seemed to dug itself, and when his gaze finally dropped a few inches down but not on your own body, you realized he wasn't standing there alone.

                         "Hi, you're Mark, right?" a member of the student council had asked him, with her hair dyed in a soft foxy tone and a pretty black ensemble to embrace her perfect proportions.

You observed their interaction with caution, Mark's eyes going back and forth between your face and hers as he sipped on his something-and-soda mix Jackson had brought him earlier, and you saw him nod at her with a weak smile.

"I'm Hansun, I think we shared the same classes back when you were at the uni" the redhead smiled back as she laid her shoulder against the wall he had been glued to in the dark.

Mark had never went to work ; he had just been hiding in his room with his own bottles of soju to empty, until he had felt tipsy enough to socialize, a few moments after you had arrived. Inevitably, his pupils had found your back merely hidden by your long blouse, his mouth turning dry at the sight, and he had pushed himself at the corner of the room where no spotlight was targeting him and where you wouldn't catch him in this mess of bodies, just to look freely at you.

She's beautiful.

She's so beautiful.

And I missed her.

Not a single insult, not a single hurtful thought had slipped from his mind as he had stared at you in some kind of awe, his heart a little bit appeased by the alcohol he had ingurgitated on his own. It had been three days since he had started to drink in secret in the evenings, chosing to interrupt his brain functions by soaking them, as his sober mind was definitely unable to suppress the image of you.

Alcohol indeed made him feel stronger, because it blurred your face and freed him from any pain, and thanks to the good and dreamless nights of sleep it ensured, he had been able to put up with work and with the boys without being suspected – at least he thought so, because his friends were more than aware of his situation. He knew what he did was the most pitiful thing he had inflicted upon himself in his life, still he found that easy way pretty convenient, at least for now.

He hadn't been able to answer Woodam's tricky question. No, you had never hurt him with your knowledge of his inner demons ; but still, he was scared to trust you right now, so what should he do? He had no fucking clue. So cowardly, he had chosen the path of masquerade and oblivion the liquor traced before him, because thinking about a solution had become too much to ask.

Mark nodded once again as he vaguely remembered that cute Hansun, his eyes scanning her lips that were appealing, with their pretty grape tint.

"Ooooh so you're really as quiet as they said?" she wondered, a sly smile moving her mouth and Mark licked his own at the sight.

Right before him was standing another way to stop thinking about you ; why wouldn't he jump at the occasion? Seeing how amused – and seemingly fired up – the girl was by his disablement, Mark repeated the up-and-down motion of his head, slowly, his eyes finally finding hers even in the dim light. More than her flushed cheeks he had seen the second she had been close enough to him, her eyelids that fell heavily were giving her look something glassy, sign that she was more than tipsy.

"I kinda like mysterious boys you know, I'm tooootally fine with doing all the talking… At least if they know how to use their body" she winked before laughing nervously and Mark laughed quietly with her, amazed by her straightforward invitation to take him under his own blankets. "Just joking!"

This time, there was no buddy to push him into the arms of a female distraction ; it was his own doing, his own choice, and Mark momentarily felt happy about it as he finally was turned on by a total stranger after a while, with his long eyelashes covering the lust that was circling his pupils as he devoured his bait with them.

Little did he know that this lust was only a mirage masking his strong desire to forget about you, betraying the fact that he kept on… Thinking about you, no matter what.

                         "That's it, I'm going" you said in a strained voice, without the need to bore into his burning gaze to get what was bound to happen between the both of them.

You had finally found the answer as to why you hadn't been able to catch a single murmur of his voice : he was starting to move on. It had seemed absurd even for yourself at first, as a few minutes before entering the apartment, you had been struck by his deep voice. However, now that you had had a few drinks and you had spotted him with another woman and a smile on his lips, you couldn't help but think of the worst case.

Jackson, who had been standing near you, caught your reddening stare at his best friend and he immediately made his way behind you as you started to slalom through the sweating bodies, the jealousy and the panic urging you to storm out the room.

"Y/N no no no wait a minute don't go!" Jackson exclaimed over the music and Mark's head snapped up at the faint sound of your name, his eyes searching for you above the crowd but failing to find you as you already were reaching the main door, not even responding to the girls' interpellations.

"I'm going! Don't touch me Jackson, please!" you suddenly vent out as you pushed his hand that had landed on your shoulder away.

"What's going on Y/N?" Jena asked as your group of friends joined the Chinese boy before you, followed by Jinyoung and Jaebum.

"I told you I'll go the second he'll show up, he's here, so I'm out" you tried to explain the calmer you could and with a cynic smile, but your heart was pounding loudly as the image of him and her was still flashing into your head, making you closer to losing it.

You were jealous, dead jealous, like it wasn't permitted to be and you had no right to be, so you better be gone, and quickly.

"No, don't go... I invited you because I wanted you to be there with us, Y/N, so stay. You know, he asked me earlier if you were coming and I told him the truth, and he still went out of his room... He's not willing to avoid you tonight apparently, but you just can ignore him and stay" Jinyoung said in a calm tone, and you got knocked out by his confession.

"I thought we promised him that we wouldn't say this to her…" Jackson mumbled as he scratched the back of his neck, feeling guilty to betray his best friend.

"Of course he doesn't want to avoid me, he's happy to show me he's going to have a nice fuck tonight!" you let your frustration out, before a bell rang into your mind. "Wait, what did you just say? What do you mean he went out of his room?"

Suddenly, the boys looked at each other and they frowned as they realized they had just betrayed the little trap they seemed to have plotted against the both of you.

"I knew it. I knew you would do this, all of you! Don't lie to me Jinyoung-ah! You invited me because you knew he wouldn't be at work! You wanted us to meet no matter what!" you shouted with clenched fists, not even caring about the curious eyeing of the people roaming around your small reunion.

"Y/N we-"

"Did you know about this? Did any of you know? And don't you dare to lie to me as well" you growled at your group of friends and interrupted Jackson's explanation, the unpleasant sensation of betrayal infiltrating your body that started to shiver.

"No we didn't, I swear!" Jena immediately answered in their defense, then harshly kicking the tibia of her boyfriend that hissed in pain while jumping on one foot.

You hurriedly read the shock and confusion on the girls' faces and chose to believe them, but you still had to go, by hook or by crook.

"We're sorry Y/N, but we truly believe this is the right thing to do! He's a complete mess ever since the dinner, and the girls told us you were too! You're not okay being apart! Please stay and try to sort things out with him?" Jackson tried again as he ceased your shoulders and brought you face to face with him.

You were burning with rage so you dismissed him pretty violently, definitely triggered by his explanation that was the clumsiest he could have chosen. They were asking you to do exactly what you had tried to do at the cabinet a few days ago, when it had resulted in a complete disaster. And here they were claiming they were doing the best thing for him and you? What did they even know?

"And why should I be the one to do that?! You've seen him, he's all good having a chat with a girl! Why didn't you wonder if I'm the reason why he's doing worse? Did it ever cross your mind that it might hurt him even more to see me? Why do you meddle with something you don't even know about!"

Every one of them was avoiding your accusing stare wandering from a face to another, before the girls stepped closer to you with an apologetic expression. Your trembling chin was telling you that you were about to cry while your heart was asking you to run away the fastest you could, yet your feet were stuck to the ground now that you were aware of his physical presence between the same four walls as yours, instead of just his voice knocking against the ones of your head.

"If you go now, he'll know that's because of what he's doing and he'll think he's won everything when in fact he's just losing, Y/N. He's playing stubborn right now but we all know you're the one he likes" Jinyoung spoke up diligently but the look he earned from you felt like a barrel of guns was aiming at him.

"He already knows, and he always wins. I'm not in the right to stay, okay? He's better off without me" you concluded as you finally turned away from them, only to bump into a strong torso, and you heard a familiar laugh coming from above you.

"Heyyyyy guys! Y/N, where do you think you're going like that? I've barely arrived!" Johnny exclaimed as he landed his huge hand on your arm.

"I-"

"No no, noooo excuses, just come with me and let's have a talk!"

                              Before anyone could add anything, Johnny was pulling you and taking you straight towards the bar where he asked someone to pour himself a great mixture, refusing to let go of you.

"What's happening, sweetie?" the tall boy asked you, but you were not in the mood to laugh or talk, and that's what he was the best at.

"Johnny I'm sorry but I'm leaving, we'll see each other tomorrow we can eat together I don't know but I really need to go now" you ranted as you put your hand above his grasp, but your friend didn't budge.

"Wanna make him jealous too?" he suddenly offered before tasting the cocktail his friend had concocted, a sigh of contentment then leaving his lips and tinting the air with a sweet scent, and you looked at him with doe-like eyes. "He's the one you kissed last time, isn't he? I saw the two of you, and now he's back there with a girl. I guess that's why you're so pressed to go" he nodded to himself as his squinted eyes had landed on Mark, and your jaw fell at his sense of… Observation.

"I can't even deny" you admitted in a breath, making Johnny chuckle as he led you a few steps away from the bar.

"I've got eyes Y/N, that's all" he shrugged with a smile, his hand going down to squeeze your wrist gently before freeing it, and you gazed at him suspiciously.

"Seems like you're spying on me but well" you mumbled while crossing your arms, this discussion slowly switching your mood to an excited and curious one more than a raging one.

"Maybe I am… So, wanna make him jealous or not?" the brown-haired boy reiterated and you nudged him, almost causing an accident for his cup that would have kissed the ground hadn't it been for his large hands that caught it quickly.

"We're not 12 anymore Johnny, that's what people do in middle school" you scoffed, a smile finally gaining your lips even when your eyes were going back and forth between the man in front of you and the one at the back whose strong aura should have warned you of his presence way sooner.

"And? I'm pretty sure that's what he's trying to do, and I'm pretty sure you've missed my lips too" he said as he wriggled his eyebrows with a smirk you wanted to wipe off his face.

"Ya! We barely shared a peck and it was a long time ago!" you protested in a whine.

You both let out a laugh as Johnny had reminded you of when you had been in the same class back in middle school, you having a crush on him and him asking you out only to date you for three days, just like he had done with every single girl in the playground – even his noonas. You had been great buddies that were more than classmates even after he had dumped you, then you had went to different high schools, before getting reunited in this huge university. You had had a great time catching up during year one, and turned out to be pretty good friends now – he had been the one introducing you to Cho A, actually.

"I remember you were head over heels for me, what happened?" he continued his teasing, his facial expression turning to an innocent one.

"All the girls were!"

"That's right… Anyway I wouldn't mind "pecking" you again, just wondering if you can kiss better after growing up so well" he specified suddenly with his eyes lowering on your lips, and your heart skipped a beat as he was smiling without a veil of humor or mockery falling before his traits this time.

*Her oblivious-self will take it as a joke, as always, perfect…* you unfortunately heard his regret, being the first thought other than Mark's that was welcomed by your ears after so long, and you almost gasped.

Johnny liked you?

"Thanks for the offer, but no, I won't belittle myself to that like him, and I won't grant your flirty ass, I'm too pure" you laughed your confusion out and his chanting chuckle accompanied yours, even soothing you.

"Alright alright! Then just stay, and drink with me? With us?" Johnny proposed once more, leveling his glass up before your smiling lips and agitating it to lure you with the fruity smell suggesting its sweet taste.

With a heavy heart, you snapped your head towards where Mark had been standing like a tree, only for your eyes to meet with an empty and dark corner. Were they gone to do the undoable?

Your panicked wondering wasn't left in suspension though, as someone opened the fridge's door in the opened-kitchen at the other side of the living room, its light attracting your stare that fell on the blonde's checkered back as he was digging between the full shelves, only to seize two soju bottles in each one of his hands. Then, in a lazy pace, he traced his way towards his bedroom without even glancing at you.

And if the suspicious number of drinks he had picked up and his more than suspicious destination had been about to make you bawl your eyes out and run to him to bruise his thin body with unstopping punches until you'd be left out of energy, the muting of the music in your ears helped you cool off, as it left the place to that sound.

That very sound you had missed, the sound that had kept you hoping for him to come back as its frequencies had spoken of how much he liked you too until tonight : his deep and somber voice finally manifested itself.

*Me? Thinking of you? You wish. Never again. I'm peeeeeerfectly fine right now, look at me. I don't give a fuck about you. Zero fucks given. Zeroooo!*

The second he had left the company of his distraction, Mark had fallen back into the contemplation of his unaccepted feelings for you. You were glad that this alternate explanation finally showed up to you, the one that maybe he hadn't been thinking of you just because he had been able to focus on something else than his pain for a while. And what warmed up even more your heart that had frozen ever since you had been struck by his voice again, was your sight of the girl now dancing with her group of friends on the dancefloor instead of walking in Mark's steps towards his bedroom.

"So? What do you say?" Johnny spoke up before emptying his cup, and you finally ripped off your stare from the corridor where your loving eyes had followed Mark's skinny silhouette before it had blended in the dark, to acknowledge your friend.

The first and last time you had been at a party with Mark around, had turned out to be one of your best memories but still tainted with your tears. Was it reasonable of you to tempt the devil by recreating the situation again? But was it reasonable of you to go against your heart that was expecting something to happen tonight despite your oath of leaving Mark's sight?

*Nope, I don't give a fuck. I don't Y/N. Or maybe I should? Can you hear me? Should you hear how much of a mess I am tonight? Should I think of your shitty doing? Will you still have a nice time with that friend of yours tonight?*

"Tsssk, you've got no shame to be jealous…" you mumbled lowly, rolling your eyes at his childish behavior due to his drunkenness that you knew too damn well.

Still, a smile crept up at the corner of your lips as you forgot about your guilt and your first motive that had brought you close to the exit, replaced by a deep satisfaction that Mark was showing interest in you and the boys you got close to.

"Hm?" Johnny asked with his brows up on his forehead.

*Should I give you a headache, hm? I'm having a headache because of you, let's share! It's not fair, right? You said that you'd take all the responsibility! You said you were sorry! So why am I the one like that? Why did you seem fine, huh?*

Mark was apparently planning to nag at you for a few moments more and had you went back home, you wouldn't have had the chance to minimize it by spending time with your friends and blur it with alcohol, as you would have faced another round of panic attacks and survivals against craziness.

"Fine, I'll stay a bit more" you then shrugged, and you were surprised by Johnny's strong arm that headlocked you immediately before he dragged you back to the bar.

"Yeeeeah! I'm such a good negotiator… Listen, if you wanna go, just tell me anytime and I guarantee that I'll be your taxi, that's your reward" he then smiled into your ear as you had straightened up against his side, and you only nodded thankfully, your cheeks getting hot at his closeness as you now knew about his attraction to you.

                                                            "YES! I WON!" you exclaimed joyfully as you were sitting on Jinyoung's bedroom's floor with the very owner of this counter-party's location, the girls, and some members of the student council.

You had been playing whatever alcohol games you could do with cards sprawled on the wood flooring, and you were amazed at how well you had escaped most of the penalties because you were the only one remaining at the border between tipsy and drunk, all the other players already having fallen to the other side.

Mark's whining had not lasted long, your efficient choice of entertainment and him being too intoxicated for you to follow his string of mumblings having helped you to push it aside as a background noise into your head. All you knew by now was that he wasn't sleeping, as you still caught some curses or growls every few minutes, but they only meandered through one ear and slipped out from the other, at least until-

*Y/NNNNNNNN* he suddenly moaned loudly into your head as you were reaching the final round of your fourth game, and your body jolted in surprise.

You snapped your head towards the bedroom's door with your eyes and senses all alert for him again, waiting impatiently for his next signal.

*I'm about to do something stupid…*

After an hour of having played the indifferent ones and him grumbling nonsense from his cavern, the distress in his voice hit you like a train and you finally came to wonder if it had been a good idea to leave him with bitter alcohol to gulp down again and again on his own. He sounded like back at Johnny's party when he had needed you the most, and the souvenir sparkled with chills on your skin.

*I wanna stop this…*

*Why am I doing this?*

"Y/N, it's your turn" Johnny, who was sitting next to you and had been pretty tactile since game one without you being careful of it, gently shook your knee close to his so that you'd turn back to the game.

But you just couldn't, as like a boomerang slamming you right back in the face, your guilt towards Mark had surrounded your heart and mind that were paused while you fixed the slightly opened door separating your group from the heart of the party, as if the next sentence would come to you through it.

What was he talking about? Was he feeling bad because he had too much to drink? Should you go and check on him? Or was it the time for you to leave so that he won't feel uneasy knowing you were around anymore?

*Y/NNNNN…* his supplying voice shot right at your heart like a brisk arrow, and you quaked.

*If you can hear me, come and stop me please*

*Only you can stop me*

*I can't stop myself…*

Finally, you got reminded of something that pulled you up to your feet and dragged them to the living room, but in which you halted abruptly, your brain having a hard time to make a decision through the storm of panic you were swirling in.

*No don't come don't come don't come…*

*I can't see you, don't come…*

*That's because of you…*

His suicide attempt. All these aligning of words were pointing at this fatal issue, but the guilt that had become your second skin for two weeks was holding your guts back from pushing his bedroom's door, as you somehow – irrationally – feared that you could be the trigger to his desperate act if his eyes ever came to meet your silhouette.

*It's not worth it, why should I care*

*Let's finish this already*

"No!" you broke into hot and salty tears.

Your melted brain finally ignored all the scenarios it had been dressing into your head as your fright made you run all of a sudden, but your pace was still feeling way too slow as you wanted to reach him faster than the light. The apartment felt ten times bigger and you pushed past people without apologizing, your tears and your anxiety choking you as you were mumbling his name desperately, his voice having ceased to call for you.

You had been about to engage yourself into the corridor, but a strong grip turned you around and you faced a sweaty Jaebum that looked you over with averted eyes.

"Y/N don't go in he's-"

"Let go of me!" you screamed at him as you struggled to free yourself from his grasp.

"No I swear you shouldn't go Y/N listen to me-"

But you slapped his hand and instantly disappeared in the dark hallway, where the music suddenly turned lower and deafened. Your shuddering breath and your sobs became the only thing you could hear, yet you wanted to hear him. You approached his door on shivery legs, and an urge to puke burned at the back of your throat as you dreaded what you were going to find into this somber bedroom.

"Please please please no please…" you were praying as you gained some courage in spite of your drunken brain that amplified your state of panic and wronged your perception of the situation, making you far from rational.

"Y/N-" Jaebum had followed you, but it was too late for him to stop you as you were pressing the door knob and pushing the panel open, however you wished you had turned blind at the sight of the scene you were welcomed with, instead of letting your eyes adapt to the darkness taking over the room.

On the bed in which you both had shared an intimate and peculiar moment, Mark was in nothing but his tight black boxers that testified of his desire for the red-haired girl in her lingerie right under him, whose hands were stroking his torso, whose legs were at each side of his waist and whose lips were connected passionately to his. The sound of her moans and their sloppy kisses came stronger into your eardrums than any other noise you had heard during the night, and your waterworks stopped from sliding against your cheeks immediately, dried by the shock that electrocuted your brain.

"You gotta be kidding me!" you couldn't stop yourself from spitting at his naked back, and the blonde jumped on his knees in surprise before turning back to see who had interrupted them.

His world started spinning the second he deciphered your silhouette in the doorway, the residues of the spotlights' rays from the living room seeping through his bedroom and revealing how his facial expression decomposed itself, from a disapproving frown to a devastated look.

"Who's she?!" the girl suddenly whined as she grabbed the blankets to cover herself, but your eyes were stuck on him and him only.

Yet, her nosy voice managed to pierce through your bubble, and the only answer that could be given, was that you were no one. Yes, you were heartbroken, this carnal picture having torn your insides apart and cut your tongue, but you were not his girlfriend ; you were someone who owed him a big debt you couldn't repay except by letting him go, so you didn't have a say in this. You turned swiftly on your heels, taking a deep breath doing so, and you started to walk away.

*Y/N wait wait wait wait* you heard him call in despair again, without noticing how he poorly fell from the bed by trying to come after you, the ground seeming to shake and his legs giving up on him as they succumbed to his stress.

"Who the hell is she?! Hey! Where are you going?! What are you doing?! Mark!"

Yet Mark couldn't hear anything but his thumping heart that helped him pass his pair of jeans on his skinny legs and his white tank top over his chilly chest, and once he managed to get out of his bedroom, he spotted you at the end of the corridor, your pace having been slow as you were completely knocked out by what you had just witnessed.

*Y/N please* he pleaded with a shaky voice as he stumbled on his feet while running after you, and you didn't understand why you could still hear him.

Hadn't he traced a perfect line between the both of you by doing this? Wasn't it enough?

You recognized his touch the moment his long fingers enclosed around your forearm, and he walked around your standing figure to block your way. He hadn't zipped up his jeans, his hair was disheveled and his top completely wrinkled, but it was nothing compared to the chaos having broken in his head and trading over his facial features.

"Don't touch me." you warned him, your eyes sending him a jaded stare as you felt like your soul had been sucked up into the abyss of horror.

For the third time of the night, somebody was trying to hold you back and depriving you from your freedom, and you couldn't take it anymore. You needed to go, and right now, so you brutally shook him off and walked past him, thankful that his drunken brain was slow enough for you to escape him. Yet, the sight of your lifeless traits had felt like a cold shower falling on Mark, who successfully ceased your body part once again, making you switch your tone to a more aggressive one as you flip-flopped :

"Why are you coming after me? Who am I? Answer her, who am I? I'm nobody, so why are you there? Go back to your business!"

His eyes were gleaming with lining tears and his pupils were trembling as he shook his head from the left to the right, and you read how scared he was right now, probably because you weren't showing him anything. You even granted him a smile as you teared off his fingers from you this time, his arm falling next to his body while yours was burning because of the mere touch.

*Where are you going* he then chose to display with signs yet you heard it as he was in a complete state of despair, but you couldn't care less.

He then groped his whole body with pressed gestures, looking for his phone to deliver the message to you, and some waterworks prickled at the corner of your eyes as you saw how hard he was trying to stop you.

Your relationship or whatever people could call what you both shared was a complete mess, you hurting him, him hurting you ; you regretting, him regretting too ; you being scared to love someone because of what it made you do, him being scared to love because of what it made him feel ; and you wanted this vicious circle to stop. You were about to depart from him again but Mark's hand didn't miss its second chance to immobilize you in your spot, making you lose it for good.

"Hey, I get it that you want to hate me really bad, but how much of an asshole can you be to call me for help and scare me the fuck out when you're only about to have your time with another girl? You wanted to hurt me that bad? And I'm the sadist one? What more do you want Mark, I thought we were done! I thought you wanted nothing from me, so why did you call me, huh? Why?! Leave me alone now, I got it don't worry you must really hate me like you said, I won't hear you anymore now that I perfectly know! We're through!"

*No I've fucked up I know but wait-*

"Leave me alone! You look like nothing right now so go back to your room!"

In a blink of an eye, you had blend in the dancing mass of people moving on the arranged dancefloor, and your eyes searched for Johnny you quickly found near the kitchen with his phone in his hands, a serious look masking his usual happy traits.

"Oh my God Y/N you're here! You suddenly disappeared with a panicked face, we were all worried! I looked for you in the living room but I didn't find you! Are you okay?"

Those last three words threatened to kill you so you grabbed his warm hand in despair, your hurting eyes not even catching his own that widened for a slight second because of the fireworks he felt burst into his stomach at your skinship.

"Let's go, I beg you" you asked in a faint voice and without a second thought, Johnny nodded in approval as he caught the need in your request.

He finished his drink in no time before putting his cup on whatever surface he found next to him, and he dragged you behind him towards the sofas where he had left his leather jacket earlier, before putting it over your shoulders.

"Here. Let's go" he said in a sweet tone and the two of you stormed to the exit, still hand in hand.

Mark had rushed back to his bedroom, his hand grazing against the wall so that he could walk the straighter he could, and he had jumped into a pair of shoes then grabbed his shirt that had been thrown in the middle of the room. Hansun was busy putting her clothes back on her perfectly proportioned body, and Mark merely bowed her sorry as she ranted about how much of an asshole he was. The second he went back outside, he found you and the last party's host chatting, and he sped his pace closer to the both of you.

"Wait I'm sorry, but I should have asked : are you sure you can drive? You're ok? I don't want to put you in danger" you had stopped your pilot right before the front door, and you were thankful of your reasonable side that couldn't let you down for too long.

"I drank, but don't worry, I'm fine. It's not the first time I did this, and since I'm responsible of you, I'll be cautious" he smiled as his free fingers embraced your cheek quickly, and you both left before Mark could catch you as he was slow in spite of him, the landscape shaking and turning around.

Still, he had perceived the last bit of your conversation, and his fiery blood turned to ice while his panic turned to a total terror : the one of losing you as his lover, became the one of losing you at all because of a car accident. He couldn't let you take this risk, he couldn't let the second woman he had ever loved in his life go when this time he could stop it. He couldn't simply watch from aside as he had done back in the car ; he needed to do something or else, Mark felt like the burden of guilt would be the end of him.

                          *NO! DON'T GO WITH HIM! DON'T GO WITH HIM Y/N! HE DRANK DON'T GO IN!* you unexpectedly heard Mark scream into your ears as you stepped on the sidewalk, and you jumped in surprise.

You looked over your shoulder to see an out-of-breath Mark pushing the front gate, bending with his hands on his knees for a few seconds before he leveled his head up and, the second he saw you reaching the end of his street, he started running again.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked you obliviously, lightly pulling at your hand as he hadn't heard anything.

You didn't say a thing and unexpectedly sped your pace up, dragging him behind this time, but the confused boy still snapped his head at the back and spotted Mark that was jogging far from straightly to the both of you. He then let go of your hand to enfold your shoulders with his arms, and he guided you to his car that was right in the corner, parked on the main avenue that was still busy with numerous vehicles.

He swiftly opened the door for you and pressed himself to sit before the wheel, and once the doors were closed, you sighed.

"Are you okay? What's happening?" Johnny asked while unlocking his phone to type your address on the navigation system.

"Just ignore him" you barely answered, your throat tightening at the sight of Mark getting closer and closer in the rearview, his blonde hair fighting with the wind and before you even knew it, he was right next to your window, knocking loudly against it.

*Don't go with him you can't go with him he's drunk it's too dangerous Y/N please come out I beg you* Mark shook his head vigorously before he strived on the doorknob he tried to open, but you had been quick to push the lock button.

Surely because of alcohol, Johnny was a bit slow at typing but mostly, you caught the anger in his eyes as he stopped what he was doing to dart Mark with them.

"What's wrong with him seriously? He's going to break my car at this point!" he growled at the blonde's punches against the window that were unstopping.

You couldn't dare to look at him, the worry and the fright in his eyes compressing your already weakened heart so your pupils dropped at your knees, and you did your best at snubbing him and his pleads.

"He's just really drunk, let's ignore him" you tried to calm Johnny down and the latter rolled his eyes annoyingly but it helped him focus back on the navigation, the only key to save you from hell at this point.

*Please don't please don't I can't have you die too in an accident please please…*

This comparison consumed the last bit of a heart you had after all the emotions it had went through. It was as if some ashes were burning your whole insides, and you felt like suffocating.

"It's for the better…" you murmured, your brows knotting as your migraine was back at it, even more with the roistering sounds of Mark's fist slamming against the car body.

*Y/N please come out*

Finally, this tensed situation was going to break as Johnny's car's motor roared, sign that you were ready to go, yet it only caused for Mark to shout louder into your head.

*Y/N!!!! Y/N DON'T DO THIS YOU CAN'T GO PLEASE I CAN'T LET YOU GO PLEASE NO*

As you deported from the sidewalk and engaged yourselves on the road, Mark sprinted on the side with his hands still tapping against the car. You finally acknowledged him, with the shock painting your traits as you wished he would quickly see how dangerous he was for himself and for the other drivers around you. Fortunately, his drunk-self couldn't compete with a car so you drove past him and he stopped following you, running out of breath as he couldn't scream his worries out, the accumulation of feelings strangulating him.

"Pretty intense between the both of you, right?" Johnny broke the awkward silence you had plunged into now that the car's beating up had stopped.

"Intense is the word, yeah…" you restrained a sob and you looked over the rearview on your side, only to see Mark standing up way too close to the automobiles.

His eyes had detached themselves from Johnny's car as his drunkenness was suddenly taking the best of him, immobilizing him in his spot like a zombie and his adrenaline having been emptied up by his vain attempts to make you stay. The city lights were blinding him, and the vehicles’ highlights seemed to be leaving trailing of colors behind them and meddling between each other, to the point Mark's vision was about to make him faint. Everything was so bright and so fast, while the world seemed to be spinning at a deadly pace around his figure.

He didn't feel himself topple to the front, his brain not responding to the primary sense of balance anymore, yet he was lucky that his body still knew about survival instinct, as he would have been hit by a car, hadn't it been from his feet dissociating with his head full of air to step back.

Mark got petrified by the sound of tires screeching against the road due to the driver's safe maneuver to avoid him, and while gasping for air as the car had been to a traumatic proximity for him, he fell in a squat position. He felt like he was trapped in the middle of his nightmares about the accident, where he couldn't do anything except for waiting for it to stop.

He then brought his hands to his head so that he'd stop hearing the lurid traffic noise, and closed his eyes so that he wouldn't see any one of those engines that scared him more than anything. His whole body was shivering, and at each scream of the horns pressed by the drivers angry at him for being dangerously on the road, he smacked his hands against his ears to disperse it.

You had witnessed all the scene, seeing him disappear from the frame of your small mirror as he had dropped pretty brutally to the ground. Without you even controlling them, your tears had made their way out the second Mark had been about to get into an accident, and you didn't hold back your gasp of fear either. Luckily, you hadn't drove too far away from the spot where you had left him, and moreover, you came to stop at a red light.

"What's wrong?!" Johnny had been surprised by your demeanor, and he tried to check on you but you had opened the window, your head popping outside and turned completely to the back, so he couldn't read your tortured expression.

"I have to go" you informed him before unbuckling your belt and strongly opening the door a few seconds before the light turned green. "I'm sorry but I have to take care of him, I-I'll call you, b-be careful, please!"

You didn't grant him the time to answer nor to ask you anything as you slammed the door and treaded the tar, towards Mark who was still squatting between the empty parking place and the road, with his face buried on his knees. You ignored the horns of disapproval as you squatted before him, with your face drenched in tears at the sight of the boy you liked in such a devastated state.

*Please don't die please don't die please don't die please don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me…*

Even at his worst state, he was still thinking of you. Even with his own life in danger, he was wishing for your own to continue. Your stomach dealt with unexpected butterflies flapping their wings against its ramparts, and this sensation somehow relieved your need to vomit that had lingered in your throat ever since you had left his bedroom. You breathed out and wiped your face, spreading some of your makeup of your skin, before landing a hand on his forearm. Never in your life would you have imagined that someone could shiver so much when it wasn't winter ; you had barely touched him that his body quaked even more due to a spasm.

"Mark, I'm here" you said gently as you tried to hold back the rest of your tears so that you could talk properly.

*Please don't-*

Mark's head slowly left his legs and he freed it from his clenched hands, and the moment his eyes found yours that were glimmering more than the stars above you, the landscape around him settled as he found peace in your stare. All of a sudden, you felt two arms surround you as Mark fell onto his knees and brought you close to him, so close that you could feel his insane heartbeat against your chest. His hot breath dispersed into your hair and caressed your skin, giving you the chills, and it wasn't long before you were hugging him back.

His embrace was powerful and desperate, yet he was still trembling like a leaf fighting against a strong wind.

*I was so scared… I'm so scared* he thought as he dug his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

"Let's move, hm? If we stay here I'm definitely going to have an accident" you chuckled and you felt him nod.

You helped him get up on his feet and rejoin the sidewalk where the boy sat back down on the ground, his legs definitely not willing to be cooperative as he still couldn't feel them, and he put his elbows on his knees before letting his head drop along with a sigh. You stood next to him but not too close so that he could breathe, yet your curiosity and worry soon betrayed you :

"What happened to you?" you bluntly asked him, playing with your feet on the pavement.

Mark repeated his frisk on himself to look out for his phone, a frown dressing up his beautiful traits as every move was hard for his hammered body to execute, but you soon interrupted him as you realized he probably wasn't in the best dispositions to talk.

"Forget it, sorry"

*I'm pretty miserable… Not even able to come after you, what a man* you heard him curse himself in a deep but raspy voice that testified of his worn out state.

"I don't like perfect prince charming or valorous knights…" you mumbled to yourself with a pout. "Anyway you look okay now so-"

"Let's stay here for a while" the famous robotic voice cut you through your goodbyes and you gazed down at Mark to see he had retrieved his phone, on which he was already typing something else.

"With the sound of traffic? Are you sure it's a good idea?" you wondered sincerely, your eyes widening.

*Better than go back there and meet that girl…*

"Oh because you think I would have accompanied you by the hand and brought you back to her? I must be dreaming… No sorry, and I was about to say that now that you're okay, I'm going" you answered curtly, but before you could retire, Mark extended his arm and his hand landed on your ankle.

*That's not what I meant. I don't care about her, do you hear me?* he grumbled but without looking back at you as he felt hot flushes fanning his face now that he was feeling you, and he surely didn't want you to see him weaker than what you had just spotted.

"You were about to take great care of her earlier though" you scoffed while crossing your arms, but you didn't chase his hand away as you too felt some thrill at his touch.

"Are you jealous?" the phone took the relay as it was easy to type with one hand.

"Yes" you confessed instantly, and Mark finally snapped his head up to search your face as he hadn't expected neither this answer, nor that frankness. "What? As if you should be surprised"

You caught the premises of a shy smile tingling the corner of his lips, and you couldn't help but find it cute instead of annoying.

"Then stay" he lowered his eyes to write it and showed it up to you.

You hissed through your teeth as your heart imploded at the sight of those two words he knew too damn well to employ with you.

"Don't ask me this again…" you moaned annoyingly, your head turning away from his figure to watch the city life in front of you.

You both hadn't paid attention to it, but some clouds had accumulated above your two aching heads and in less than three seconds, a storm broke out and showered your two bodies that stayed still in unison while all the passersby that had been walking around you or on the other side of the street started to run and protected themselves with whatever they could.

But for the both of you, it felt like a remedy. Your body relaxed and you closed your eyes to face the sky, letting the drops smudge your makeup even more and soothe your eyes that had been burning from the overfull of holding back. The smell of wet tar swamped your nostrils and you exhaled silently but profoundly, forgetting for a while about Mark who on the contrary had been staring at you.

Beautiful. You like her so much man. So so much.

"Do you make rain fall when you're sad too? Like a Goblin?" his phone asked for himself a few moments after he had let go of his grasp, the spot he left turning cold, and you chuckled.

"No, sorry to disappoint you" you smiled with your eyes still closed.

You didn't catch Mark's little nod, nor did you see him stand up painfully, until you heard his feet stumble a bit next to you. You slowly reopened your eyelids and downed your head to the left to meet with his soaked figure a few feet away from you, and your heart that had calmed down went back to work at full speed.

His blonde hair seemed to be close to a light chestnut color thanks to the rain, and the strands were falling perfectly on each side on his face before he pushed them at the back with his hand. You were tipsy because of the alcohol you had consumed to forget, but you now were drunk of his face you loved more than you could admit. His hardened traits that were softened tonight, his pink heart-shaped lips you selfishly dreamed to kiss again when you knew you couldn't, his deep brown eyes that could take you miles away from reality just from the way he looked right through you.

His body revealed by his wet clothes was attracting you to the fullest, and it was hard to hush your incipient desire for him as the both of you were totally quiet, simply gazing at each other with your eyes full of innuendo. His gaze climbed down to the slope of your nose then the curve of your lips you licked out of anticipation, and a glimpse of air shakily escaped Mark's mouth, as he was having a hard time refraining himself from stealing a kiss from you.

*Stay. I won't regret it like last time I'm not that coward anymore, please*

Even without hearing him you would have guessed his plea just from the way he was staring at your face, the despair having made itself home inside his irises.

"You're drunk Mark. You're supposed to hate me and move on, remember? I've hurt you enough and I won't do you any good, so it's time for me to step out…" you answered in a calm tone even if every word had pulled at the strings of your heart.

*No, you know I'm worse without you.* And no, you did me good.

You shook your head from the left to the right in denial, but he began to close the unbearable gap between your two bodies. You couldn't turn away this time as you were no longer angry and because a physical contact with him was what you craved for the most ; however, your guilt helped you to put a defensive hand before you, but only for its poor palm to end up meeting his chest as he took you in his arms another time.

He was scared to be left alone as only you was maintaining him up on his two feet right now : he couldn't see anything else but you, he couldn't hear anything else but your voice, he couldn't feel anything else but your body that glued to his because of the water drenching your clothes. No more chaos around him, no more flashes of the accident, no more desertion of his brain functions.

*I can't do this without you. I can't. I tried but I can't. Stay with me, please.* he murmured into your head walls, his low voice making your frame vibrate and your hand on his heart crumpled the material of his tank top, this grasp being the only thing preventing you from surrendering.

Nevertheless, his arms tightened around your back and waist and you heard him exhale loudly, sign that he was once again struggling with his inner emotions. Mark was indeed fighting some tears but also his urgent need to unite your mouths ragingly right here right now, but somehow he knew this wasn't the right thing to do.

Instead, you felt his lips plant a wet kiss at the base of your neck and you subconsciously sighed in pleasure, your grasp on his top tightening even more, but like a thunderbolt crossing your mind clouded with your feelings for him, your reason recalled you the order.

"L-Let's talk about this when you're sober, ok?" you barely proposed, your voice fainting with your soul he was absorbing despite him.

Mark departed from you to look you in the eyes, and you took this opportunity to step back and let go of the white fabric that fell and stuck back to his torso.

"I'm going. Go back, and do whatever you want with whoever you want but please, don't think about me while doing it that's disgusting" you managed to joke, your lips ignited with desire breaking into a smile before you turned around and quickly walked down the street, and this time the blonde didn't come after you.

As he observed your silhouette becoming smaller and smaller under the street lamps, Mark wondered how you could smile about that awful thing he had done to you.

*I don't deserve you.*

You smiled sadly as you heard that comment above the rain, because you had been thinking exactly the same. You had hurt him so much yet he had been the one begging for your love and running after you, when you should normally be the one to do that. He wasn't deserving you, no, because he deserved so much better ; he didn't deserve to love a liar that had wronged him from the very beginning while he had finally been true to someone. As you sunk into the depths of the night, you resolved yourself to put an end to this the next time you'll see him.

                                               The next day, you woke up with a painful hangover, yet your eardrums were free from any negative thoughts coming from Mark, giving you a smile that went well with the bright day that welcomed you. You felt extremely tired from the past night, but for nothing you would change what happened, not even the image of him with another girl in his arms. You cherished each one of the memories you had built with him up till now, because you knew it would soon be over ; it had to.

Unknown [4:29 PM] : Hi, Y/N. It's me, Mark… What about we meet today at Han River? Around 8 p.m, if that's ok for you. I've got things to tell you.

You broke out into a sob, as you were far from ready to bid farewell to him. But this hard time was necessary for him to trust someone again and love without suffering. A simple relationship with solid roots and not rotten by mistrust and tears. You were way too guilty and full of regrets to let yourself love him.

You [4:30 PM] : Me too, I have things to say. I'll be there.

No need to precise that you counted every minute that passed by until the time to go finally came. You hadn't been that stressed out in so long, the nervousness you had experienced before the boys' flat's door being nothing compared to the bundle of nerves that juddered within you as you were walking on Han River's promenade. A fine breeze was refreshing your hot face, and the sun that was setting slowly appeased your mind. Mark had indicated the zone where he wanted to meet ; it was near the bridge, and when you reached the location, your eyes recognized his silhouette immediately.

Standing in the grass and across a tree, Mark was wearing a black hoodie that was way too large on his thin body, and unlike the past times when you had seen him, his humid hair wasn't styled up but simply covered by the hood. You could only see his profile graced by the sun's rays, but you guessed from afar that he looked better than yesterday, a peaceful expression veiling his facial features.

When he heard some footsteps coming from behind him, Mark turned his head and as he saw you going down the small climb of grass longing the promenade, he broke into a smile you had forgotten he could have. His eyes almost went unheeded and his nose wrinkled, giving off the cute vibe you had found in him only yesterday night.

The sky above the river was turning to an astonishing gradient of red, pink and ending in the traces of blue left from the afternoon. This ambient light suited so well with the warmness that seemed to seep out of Mark's body you were craving to feel close to yours again ; but you stopped a couple meters away from him. You wished you could engrave this image into the solidest rock on earth as it was the last time you would meet, yet you could only trace it into the sand of the souvenirs that were meant to lose in authenticity, because you shouldn't condemn yourself any further with crystal clear pictures of him to haunt you.

All of a sudden, Mark brought the distance separating the both of you to something too close for comfort for you, and you scraped your throat with your stare falling at your feet shyly.

*I can't stand you being that far* he thought, and your heart did a blip.

"Hi…" you saluted as your eyes finally met his that were nowhere close to the desperate look he had given you the night before.

His pupils weren't flinching anymore, and they were shining with something so pure that it took your breath away.

*If you can hear me, I wanted to say before anything else, that I'm sorry*

"I guess that's sincere because I can" you smiled before passing a hand through your hair out of anxiety; you needed to move, or else your tensed body parts would end up cramping.

Mark chuckled then bit his lower lip as his hands dug into the front pocket of his hoodie. He took his time to contemplate your face that was lightened by the orangey sunny tint, yielding you with loveliness.

And that I like you.

Silence followed this confession you couldn't hear, until your impatient one forced its way out your lips to put an end to everything, for the better.

"Look Mark, I-"

*Shit I think I've got no choice, why bad thoughts only, that sucks so much*

Your words got stuck into your throat as you didn't understand the meaning of this thought, and you watched the blonde as he took out a small scratch pad from his huge pocket, before presenting it to you horizontally. Your eyes widened as well as your mouth, and Mark smiled genuinely at your taken aback expression as he prepared himself to flip the first page. You noticed the blood that had filled his cheeks, making you feel shy as well as you didn't know what to expect, then he looked down to ensure he was doing it the right way.

"I know this is cliché and cheesy as hell, but well, I don't feel like talking, not yet" he revealed his handwriting with an expectant expression on his face as he eyed you, and your heart stopped as you read it.

You couldn't help but crack into a smile, forgetting a moment about the sorrow that would fill you and probably him in a few minutes, when it would be your turn to confess.

"As I guessed, you wouldn't hear everything I'd think, so… I had to write it"

He exhaled discretely before flipping to the following page, his head dropping down further along with his eyes that watched cautiously what he had unfolded, and thanks to his hood, you didn't catch how red his whole face turned at the next sentence.

"I like you, Y/N"

"And I don't think I'll ever be able to stop it, just like you can't stop hearing me"

"Maybe you won't unless we're together?"

"I don't know about you but I've been thinking lately, you may have heard it or not, and even more with what happened yesterday, I'm now sure that I'm not better off without you"

"Yes, you hurt me, but I hurt you as well with my behavior and my words. Even when you knew how bad I was doing up there, you weren't scared and stayed by my side. But when I knew about your power, I decided to leave like a coward"

"So because I don't like unequal situations, or being indebted, as you prefer…"

"… I'm willing to give it back, if you'll accept me. Because yes, you've done me more good than wrong"

"We both said we wouldn't love anybody else after what happened between us, so what about we simply love each other?"

"I want to keep sharing things with you, but by myself and not by my head being a mess that's messing with yours"

"And you're the one that started to clean up all this mess, look how I'm opening right now"

"I need you, Y/N"

"So, will you date me?"

When Mark gathered enough courage to acknowledge your reaction, he got taken aback to see you were actually crying a river, silently, with your hands above your mouth.

*What? What what what what's wrong? Don't cry!*

But you just couldn't stop, his declaration having touched you to the deepest of your soul. You had planned to go separate ways, but seeing that he truly liked you as much as you did, you weren't sure that you would be capable of rejecting him, the fear of losing him forever catching up but also the one to break his heart indefinitely. Would you be able to leave with that much feelings for him anyway?

"Will you forgive me, first?" you asked in a trembling voice, between two sobs you couldn't control nor calm. "I can't be the one to accept you, you need to accept me. I don't deserve you, not after what I did"

"I don't deserve you as well, I ignored your feelings that were true" he wrote after having proudly revealed the pen he had thought of bringing before leaving, a satisfied smile dressing his appealing lips.

"They deserved to be ignored after what I did to you" you insisted while wiping your face. "Actually today I came to tell you it was better if we parted ways, because I hurt you too much, because I've been awful to do this to you, because you deserve someone who won't lie to you who won't put you in such a state for weeks who-"

"You're the one I want, Y/N. I don't care about that someone" he revealed before you could finish, and he hid the writing pad and the pen back into his kangaroo pocket.

He then approached slowly, and you felt your core throb just at the sight of him being at a reachable distance. The atmosphere somehow grew romantic, maybe because of the red sky representing faithfully the passion burning inside of you, or maybe because of the loving stare he had on your traits he scanned with pleasure, taking a picture of every inch to save into his mind.

I forgive you, he thought but he clearly saw that you couldn't hear it because your head lowered the more he stepped forward, so he brought his fingers to your chin to make you look back at him.

He then nodded while slowly blinking, an appeasing body language to signal you what you were dying to hear.

I forgive you, he reiterated in his own world and you teared up another time as he didn't let go of your stare, his fingers sliding along your jaw to spread across your wet left cheek.

His left hand did the same with the other side of your face and he grazed it with his thumb, being careful not to rush things. He had longed for this moment to happen deep inside of him ; he was conscious of it as he finally felt like he was living again, like he was breathing at full capacity, like his broken heart was piecing back together, all of this thanks to you and not because of you.

Your hands were itching as they couldn't stand remaining by your sides, so you ended up grasping the fabric of his hoodie that was falling around his waist, and Mark hissed as you were finally responding, even bringing him closer to you. You felt his breath caress your face along with the light wind, and his irises full of desire and love finally disappeared behind his eyelids as he dived on you to finally kiss you.

I forgive you, he tenderly thought a last time as his tongue intertwined with yours, and you got the message without even needing to hear it.

Your hands on his waist crawled up to his back you scratched through the material, while he couldn't stop caressing your cheeks as he kissed you again and again, his breathing being loud once more, but God, you were fond of that sound. The one testifying of the impact you had on him, provoking a combust of passion within his guts just with one look of your pretty eyes or one brush of your lips on his.

When he finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, Mark settled his forehead down on yours.

"Let's start over" you muttered, your lips grazing his as you did so and he nodded slightly before passing his arms around your neck, burrowing your frame into his.

                          It's with wobbly legs but light hearts that you walked side by side to his workplace where he had proposed you to go. Once you entered, you noticed his colleagues murmuring something between them before they walked up to you and escorted you to a table near the kitchens, with a pretty rose in a vase and a pair of their usual sophisticated cutlery waiting for you.

Mark had explained to you that he'd cook for you tonight and that you'd both enjoy the dinner together. He had asked his boss for this favor during his noon service, that the latter had gladly accepted as his hardworking junior had been the most expectant he had ever seen him. The both of them came to you so that the chef would expose the menu, Mark having put his blouse on and you couldn't help but smile at the sight. He looked so dignified and masculine in those clothes, and your eyes already full of stars were now probably shooting hearts at him.

Everyone was looking at you curiously as they remarked the special service and head-to-head with a cook you benefited, and if you had felt embarrassed at first, the second Mark sat in front of you to share the meal, you forgot about everyone else.

"You must have been pretty sure that I'd say yes to organize all of this" you teased, feeling flustered by this small event.

"I just believed in us" he responded on his smartphone, and your heart melted again.

Since when this boy had the last word with you? You had to admit that you had been eaten up by your guilt that had prioritized your pessimistic side, but somehow, him being straightforward and confident was extinguishing all your past fears and wonderings about this relationship. He appeared to be so bright and at peace, and with just the pure smiles he was giving you as you did the talking, or the look he had upon you as he watched you eat deliciously, you felt right where you belonged.

Once you finished dinner, Mark went to the kitchens to help cleaning up, but his colleagues almost kicked him out so that he wouldn't spill any second of the night he had to spend with you and for you only, and he came back to you with his hoodie back on. He offered you his hand without acknowledging you, his head turned towards the entrance, suddenly feeling shy after you had thanked him with your pretty eyelids batting. You ceased it, your fingers finding shelter between his as if they had been molded together, and you caught him biting back his smile of satisfaction.

"I know you like it, it's written all over your face" you laughed as you walked out, and the blonde frowned in disapproval before speeding his pace, your feet jogging behind to catch up.

You were floating on your little happiness' cloud, the path to his home spent quietly, but it was a silence you both appreciated as each one of you was just too busy thinking of how good you felt. Mark unexpectedly turned nervous when he let you in the apartment, as he got reminded of his activity in his bedroom the night before.

Everything was incredibly quiet, the boys apparently having their own occupations on this evening – or maybe it was Mark's doing again? –, and you chuckled at the sight of dozens of plastic bags from the party they hadn't thrown out yet.

*Maybe she didn't want to come here so soon… I'm stupid, shit, what should I do?* Mark regretted as he scratched his chin nervously, standing in the middle of the living room with eyes lost in the emptiness.

"I'm fine. I mean, I'll be perfectly fine if you stop thinking about her already" you answered while crossing your arms and he jumped in surprise before glaring annoyingly at you. "Sorry?"

*Sorry my ass*

"I still hear you" you laughed as he stepped closer to you who had stayed near the entrance, waiting for him to guide you wherever his heart would be pleased to.

*Ohhhh shut up already* he grumbled before stealing a kiss from you, and he felt you smile on his lips before you gave another one back, pecking him lightly.

"I didn't know you could be so at ease with people, like where did the quiet and setback Mark go?"

*Blame yourself* he dared you before turning away, his chin up in the air proudly, and he trailed his feet nonchalantly to his bedroom with his hands in his front pocket.

As you walked behind him, you got reminded of the first time you had been at his place, the pattern being exactly the same ; him inviting you implicitly to follow him, and you at the verge of having a heart attack just because of the intimacy of the room you penetrated, closing the door behind you.

The dim light was on again, and Mark sat on his desk while you went in front of his wardrobe's mirror to check yourself, your eyes feeling puffy after having cried till you were running out of bodily water. But when you spotted his stare at you from behind through the glass, cold sweat rolled down your spine and hot flushes glided over your neck and cheeks.

He had indeed been observing you pretty intensely, enough for your body to shudder as you turned around to meet him face to face. Naturally, an intense atmosphere had settled upon the two of you. You were finally each other's, and the long awaited ending of the push-and-pull situation stirred the both of your cores. Kissing and holding hands had tested your inner desires that you had kept at bay while you had been out in the open ; but now that you were within four walls of pure privacy, the carnal desire plagued over your minds at full force, marking its territory in every single cognition of your brain.

You slowly laid your back against the cold surface, your hands hidden behind your back and your legs crossing, and you withstood Mark's gaze he was according you through half-lidded eyes, while a light of lust took its place in yours. He couldn't explain why his desire for your body to be in his arms and without the barrier of clothes had invaded his senses that quickly, except that he knew you definitely were different.

It hadn't been when Hansun had found him lying on the ground in his bedroom, without any lights turned on, that he had decided to take her to his bed. It hadn't been when she had lied next to him on the floor and talked to him about things he didn't even remember. It had been when she had touched his body almost expertly, aiming at every right spot to awaken his lust that had been swallowed by his jealousy as he had seen you with Johnny. It had been when she had attached her lips to his, the sour taste of the alcoholic drink she had emptied up just before infiltrating his mouth as their tongues had danced together sloppily.

Under her physical stimulation, his human brain had stood by to let the place to a bestial need that had urged him to have sex with her. But deep down, Mark knew it had mostly been to discard his thoughts about you.

However, with you, Mark didn't need a physical contact, at all. You standing in front of him and not being a parasite in his imagination, for him only to admire, was sufficient to turn him on.

He had wanted to make love to you the second his eyes had scanned your curves through the mirror, then the detour of your tinted lips you licked despite you. The sight of you being so reachable and eyeing his features intently was more than enough for some electricity to wave between your two bodies, overriding his flesh to attain his guts.

With you, it took just one look, for Mark to lose against his feelings that screamed at him to worship you completely.

You're going to be the death of me if you keep looking at me like that.

Your lover suddenly jumped off the wooden furniture and charged right at you, giving you exactly what you had implicitly asked for : his mouth devouring yours and his hands roaming over your needy body, needy for his touch that could make you weaker or stronger, flames or ice, stimulated or in bliss. Whatever he would want from you, tonight, he would have it, as you also were ready to love him to the fullest, without holding back.

You moaned into the kiss and he almost did too, his voice vibrating within his low growls of satisfaction, and it triggered you even more to hear something coming from him too, cutting through the silence. Your hands grabbed his nape and your fingers dug into the base of his hair, involuntarily putting some pressure to feel him even closer to you.

The rhythm was slow at first, his mouth gratifying yours with long and tender kisses he sometimes ended with a biting of your lower lip he tugged at leisurely. But soon, Mark felt a need to prove you more, so he sped up this intimate exchange, his kisses becoming breath-catching and messy.

Like the first night you had spent together, his desire for you set fireworks within his body and commanded his every action he wasn't mastering anymore. It felt so unfamiliar to be wanting someone that bad, to the point where kissing was never enough, and Mark realized how much of a zombie-life he had been living up till you and the amazing sparkles you graced him with. Right now, he wasn't like a robot ready to execute the task his primary needs had naturally ordered him, no ; he simply felt alive thanks to the alchemy you both shared and that guided him in unknown land.

His hands had been wandering up and down between your hips and waist, more delicately than his fervent work up on your face, while yours were pulling involuntarily at his locks of hair every time you would feel his teeth clashing against yours or catching your bottom lip. Suddenly, Mark helped one of your legs up and he enclosed it around his waist, causing armies of ants to go down to your feet. He then pushed you further against the mirror, with his body trembling on yours as it was desperate for more and more.

But because it had been so long since he had truly been about to conclude with a girl, he was trying to take his time at exploring you step by step. However, you didn't help him control his impulsions as you deviated your face from his and brought your lips to the side of his neck, on which you marked a love bite. He hissed through gritted teeth as your mouth traced a wet path between his earlobe and his shoulder you tried to expose by pulling at his oversized hoodie, his head lolling at the back as he breathed quickly. A few seconds later, he was strongly picking you up and wrapping your two legs around him to bring you to his mattress.

He landed you delicately on your back before placing himself on top of you, and he kissed you sweetly on the forehead to pause this intense make-out.

*Are you sure about that?* he asked without asking as he retreated to look down at you.

*If that's too soon, I can wait… I don't want to rush you like last time* he got worried into his head, and you gladly caught those caring interrogations that spread a smile across your flushed face.

You took the hand he had been to dig into his jeans' pocket to transcribe his worries on his phone, and you kissed its palm before leaning into his touch as he cupped your face.

"Mark. Kiss me already" you only breathed out, and he bent down to grant you what you had wished for.

The way his name had rolled off your tongue in a whisper had gotten him almost whimpering, his usual quietness becoming hard to handle, though he would only have produced sounds of pleasure rather than full words or sentences ; his mind was blank anyway, only filled with his want to feel you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and plunged your stare into his, his strong and shaky breathing resounding in your ears again, and from the way he was gazing at you, his eyes dark but oscillating, you knew he was still apprehensive to touch you more.

You then initiated the next steps bringing you closer to loving each other fully, as your hands went down and under his sweater. At every caress of your fingertips against his burning skin, Mark felt like you were adoring him and praising him silently, your light touch appreciating every inch and skin cell as if they were sacred, and he couldn't describe how good it felt to seem worthy again.

He retained his breathing as you gently began to pull the fabric up until his fit torso was revealed to you, and your strokes traced circles on his upper body, enjoying the softness of his pale skin. When you redressed yourself on your elbows to steal another kiss from him, Mark finally saw the green light you had been sending to him ; he finally knew what to do and how to do, his feelings reviving the dead areas of his brain dedicated to the good use of carnal instincts.

He kissed your lips, down your chin to the valley of your chest that was showing thanks to your V neck shirt he got rid of right after, then in no time, he undressed the both of you completely but still with delicateness. Perfection dwelled in each detail that covered your skin ; that's what popped up in his mind as he watched you over with awe.

His body was trembling with overexcitement as he began to make love to you, sensually and slowly. Never had your skin felt so sensitive to the touch of someone else, as at every caress of his hands on your body while he connected the both of you again and again, it was as if he was leaving a deep print.

You could swear you had caught a glimpse of his voice at every guttural sound Mark hadn't been able to hold back, but you were already in a pure state of euphoria to have him all for you, with his eyes closed and his lips capturing the skin of your neck once in a while, when they weren't on yours.

In a last sigh, you both rolled on your sides, your sweaty bodies steaming hot. Still, Mark didn't last long without having you in his arms, so he scooted over and hugged you close, making you smile against his chest. You heard his heart bouncing against your eardrum, and as your hands made their way to his back, you realized he was still quivering in pleasure. His nose was on the top of your head, and he kept on pecking you.

Never had he imagined he'd feel at peace again. Never had he thought that his body would feel strong again. Never had he believed in tears of joy ; yet he felt the crease of his eyelids turn hot, and indeed some water lined under them, making him frown in the dark.

Thank you.

His lips were itching and so was his tongue, as Mark was getting overwhelmed by his gratitude. He was dying to say those two words that meant so much more to him than an "I love you". He needed to tell you in this perfect instant, as tomorrow you wouldn't get the weight he wanted to put into them. He lowered his face and leveled up yours on the cushion with the help of his hands, and when your eyes bored into each other, his lips parted slightly.

Thank you, Y/N.

He felt like he would have a hard time breathing if he ever kept this to him this time. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to say his first words to someone in two years, but his guts were telling him that now was the right time to do it, even if it draw his energy.

However, when he tried to emit a sound, only some air released from his mouth that brushed your face, making him clench his jaw. What was happening? Had the product of his own will turned into a real disablement? Or was it the anticipation of releasing the prisoner that constricted his vocal chords?

"What's wrong?" you whispered as you read the distress in his unstable pupils.

But you weren't hearing anything and he kissed you desperately, pressing his mouth on yours with more force, until you felt something wet fall on your nose. It was a tear that had rolled down from the corner of his almond eyes, and that had made its way from his nose bridge to yours. Mark was feeling scared that he couldn't overcome his silence as he wanted to.

"What's wrong, Mark?" you reiterated as you ceased the side of his face with your hand, and the blonde closed his eyes with his brows furrowed.

He reopened them and your loving stare gave him the courage to try again, his heartbeat stopping momentarily as he licked his lips.

"T… Thank… you…" he suddenly breathed out in a merely audible voice, but it had been enough for you to hear.

He breathed unsteadily right after, as if talking had strangled him, and tears you had thought you were running out of accumulated under your lower eyelids that widened. Had you heard his voice for real? Those two words he had chosen with justness had your skin covered with chills, then you rushed your lips on his to kiss him a few times, interrupting yourself to look at him unbelievably each time.

Mark's face broke into a smile as his hooded eyes gazed at you once you were done releasing the euphoria he had put you through, his success improving his well-being as he felt proud, and he fell for you even more. He definitely wanted to talk again, if that meant he could see this profound light of love in your eyes another time. He chuckled quietly as you buried your head into his chest to hide your tears of happiness, and that was how you both fell asleep, with bodies that couldn't feel more comfortable than when they were intertwined with each other.

                                              *This is so weird*

"Could you stop being that pessimistic? You were okay with this yesterday!"

*He's still your godfather! I'm fucking embarrassed! I told it to my father, and he found it funny, but I don't!*

"Speaking of your father, he's one of the reasons why we're here, so you should be invested!"

Mark and you were standing outside the cabinet's door, waiting for Woodam to welcome the both of you for his next session. Your hand was in his, but he couldn't stop shaking his wrist out of anxiety.

You had chosen to move forward together, slowly but surely, him confessing to you his wish to speak again and to bid farewell to his mom now that he had another woman in his life he could turn to, but he was well aware that he wouldn't be able to do this on his own as residues of his trauma were still blocking him and had struck him back at the party ; you definitely determined to stop hearing his thoughts all the time, even if they had become rarer than before and that you used them to tease him now.

You lifted up your jointed arms and kissed the back of his hand to calm him down, and Mark turned his head to you to watch you with adoration, as he instantly felt better.

I don't know what you did to me for me to get this swayed seriously, he thought as he mirrored your gesture, but he gave your skin three pecks before pulling at your hand to bring your body right against him.

He enclosed his free hand around your linked ones, and he breathed out one last time as he caught the happy footsteps of the doctor getting closer to the door.

"We're in this together" you whispered in your boyfriend's ear, who landed the side of his head over yours for a few seconds in acknowledgement.

Together.

"Helloooo lovebirds! Come in!" Woodam welcomed you in, and you protested at the lame nickname he had used.

As the door closed behind the three of you, the sound of your joyful laugh faded, but the patients in the waiting room still caught it as it seeped out like a lovely serenade. Unfortunately, they didn't get the chance to witness the beautiful and shining smile Mark was wearing, for the first time ever as he stepped into this cabinet that finally appeared like a solution more than a problem.

Together, he loved this word. As together with you, Mark Tuan was about to give himself another chance to live a brighter life as a son, boyfriend, cook and roommate ; but mostly, a chance to love himself and, as an old man had once said to him, the people that stuck by him through winds and tides and led his way to a better Tomorrow.

                               THE END.

[carrieellen]

NYCMidnight Short Story Challenge 2019

First Round: Write and submit a short story of 2,500 words or less in seven days using the following, randomly assigned genre, subject and character.

Genre: Historical fiction

Subject: Pregnancy

Character: An intoxicated person

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

           “They’re playing my song!”

           The phone cord stretches across the bed as my most fave song ever blasts from the clock-radio on my night stand. I jump on my twin mattress and sing along like I’m performing at the MTV Music Video Awards.

         “I come home in the morning light; My mother says when you gonna live your life right?”  

           “Chill out, April! They play that song like all the time.”

           That's my friend, Gracie, on the phone that I’m trying to balance between my shoulder and my ear. Gracie’s been my best friend since Kindergarten, or at least since Christina Jefferson moved away in fourth grade, but her taste in music sucks.

           “Not even!” My feet land on my bedroom floor and the impact echoes through the old house. “I've been waiting all day to hear it.”

           “Maybe you’ll get the tape for your birthday in April.”

           Yeah, my name is April because I was born in April.  I know that's lame, but it could have been worse.  If I'd been born one day earlier, my birthday would be April Fools Day.  I can't imagine anything more tragic than that. Gracie's birthday is in September, which makes her the oldest in our class.  She's lucky that way.  Plus, she was named after Grace Kelly, who was this gorgeous actress and princess. And Gracie’s hair can really hold a perm. So, yeah, she’s lucky. I wish I was named after Princess Diana. I even wanted to cut my hair like Princess Di but my mom said mine was too thin and I'd look like a boy.  At least I finally have boobs.

           “Too bad you wasted your money going to Return of the Jedi with Kenneth or you could have bought the tape yourself,” Gracie tells me. “I mean, seriously, who sees the same movie three times?”

           “Who sees The Police in concert twice in one summer, Gracie?” I probably sound bitchy, but I'm really just wondering how my hair would look dyed pink.

           “That’s totally different, April.  Sting is so damn sexy!”

           “Gross, Gracie!  He's like over thirty.”

           “Speaking of sexy, I know someone who might lose her V-card on V-Day.” Her voice has risen to a taunting pitch because she loves dangling information and making me wait for it.

           “You mean Valentine's Day? It's like two weeks away, Gracie.”

           “Well, I heard Kenneth say that he’s working on a sweet surprise for his sweetheart, if you catch my drift.”

           “Are you talking about me?”

           “Don't be dense, April!  Kenneth wants you guys to go all-the-way and he’s planning it for Valentine's Day.”

           “Kenneth and I aren't ready for that, Gracie!” I totally didn’t see that coming.

            “Why not? You guys have been going out since like 7th grade and we’re all in High School now.  Besides, Kenneth’s not the little nerd who used to lose at Pac Man and watch Thunder Cats with you. He’s got a rockin’ bod since he’s been on the swim team and a lot of girls want it if you don’t.”

           “I never said I didn't want it,” I quickly correct her. “And I know how good he looks getting out of the pool.”

           “Then why aren’t you psyched about Valentine’s Day? You're the one always saying you want to have fun. Don't you want to do it with Kenneth?”

           Gracie's got a point. Kenneth is special. I'd never tell her this, but we still watch Thunder Cats together and we did do a lot of making-out the third time we went to Return of the Jedi. Sometimes it feels like he is my best friend instead of Gracie. Other times, though, I get all hot-and-bothered just sitting next to him.  Like, my stomach clenches and breaks apart at the same time and I can't stop looking at him.  It's true he has a hot bod now, but it's his light blue eyes that really get to me. I've always liked staring at them, even when he was shorter than me. Plus, he's got these full eyelashes that are so blonde you have to get close to his face to notice them...

           “Hello!  Earth to April!”

           “Sorry, Gracie. What were you saying?”

           “You were just fantasizing about going all the way with Kenneth.” She's squealing now. “Weren't you?”

           “As if!”

           “You totally were! Admit it!”

           I'm trying to think of a good come-back when I hear a loud crash from downstairs. It sounds like breaking glass just below my room.

           “I gotta go, Gracie.  I think something's going on downstairs.”

           “You said your folks were at a Reagan rally.”

           “Yeah, but Brian got home a while ago.”

           “Why didn't you tell me your gorgeous brother was there so I could come over?”

           “Maybe because he's a senior with a girlfriend.”

           “I can still look...”

           I hang up before she tells me again how my brother is so cute. I already hear enough about how awesome he is. Brian’s been leading the basketball team to glory since he was just a sophomore and, apparently, he’s a real stud.  He's smart too! He's probably going to play for UCLA in the fall.  At least, that's the dream, but he won't hear about the scholarship for another month.

           Just as I reach the stairs, I hear the singing start.

           “Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her awaaaay...” Brian's voice is in-the-rafters high as he screeches the words.

           “Are you making fun of my song, butthead!?”

           I bolt down the stairs and find him sitting on the living room floor with broken glass scattered around him.  He's trying to lift a bottle to his lips while knocking the back of his head against the wall, repeatedly. He eventually gives up and starts singing again.

           “Girls just wanna have fun. Giiirrrlllls!”

          “Brian!” I find my voice as I gape at my intoxicated brother.

           He stops singing and manages to put the bottle to his mouth, taking two gulps. He sputters and coughs a little, but then looks at me with a goofy grin. “Hey, April!” His eyes are red, and he keeps blinking them. “I was just singing your song!”

           I read the bottle's label and gasp. “You're drinking dad's bourbon? Are you crazy?!”

           “No. I'm not crazy,” he tells me, totally serious. “I drank all the beer first.”

           The whole room reeks of alcohol. Did he spill as much as he swallowed? 

“You drank all of the beer, Brian?  Like, all six cans in the fridge?” I step on a shard of glass and realize he’s smashed one of the clear panels in the breakfront cabinet where Dad keeps the hard liquor. “Holy smokes, Mom and Dad are gonna kill you!”  I shriek. “Like, seriously kill you dead, Brian!  Your life is totally over!”

           The grin melts from his face like it was formed out of wax. “My life is already over, sis.” He pulls his knees to his chest and starts to cry.

           Five years ago, my Aunt Jill died in a car accident.  She was my mom's baby sister and she used to take us to the beach when we were little. Brian was thirteen but he still cried at her funeral. I haven't seen him cry since. But now he's crying drunken sobs into his faded jeans and I wonder what could be as bad as Aunt Jill dying.

           “What do you mean your life is over?  You shouldn't say things like that.” I tell him as if not saying it keeps it from being true. “That's the bourbon talking.  And the six beers. You're gonna have one gnarly headache in a couple hours.”

           Brian just finishes the bourbon in one long swig and rolls the empty bottle across the floor.  The phone rings in the kitchen which makes him laugh abruptly and start to sing again. “The phone rings in the middle of the night, my father yells...”

           “Stop it!” I step closer and glass crunches under my Nikes.  “You'd better clean up this mess and start figuring out what to say to Mom and Dad, or you're gonna be grounded for infinity.”

           “What to say to Mom and Dad? OK, how does this sound?” Brian slurs his words but at least tries to make eye contact with me. “Mom. Dad. You two are going to be grandparents because I got Julia knocked-up. Oh, and we need more beer.”

           I stand there in silence.

           Brian tries to pull himself up and his palm pushes into the glass.  I can see red on the broken pieces dusting the floor and I know he's cut himself.  

           “Yeah, I'm in deep shit.” He wavers on his feet but remains standing. “No UCLA now. Life over before it starts.”

           “Huh?” I can’t believe that’s all I say.

           “She's pregnant, April.” The blood trickles through the lines across his hand. “And when you get your girlfriend pregnant in High School it fucks up your plans. Unless you plan to be the only Mr. and Mrs. in the 1984 graduating class.”

           “You're going to get married?!” It's weird that I react to this first.

           “Don’t you get it?  We’re going to have a kid!” He leans against the wall like the room is spinning.

           “Why can't it be someone else's kid?  Can't you give it to someone else to raise?  Like some adults who are already married?”

           “Julia doesn't want to put the baby up for adoption because apparently she can't go through life knowing our child is out there without us.”

           “So, she just expects you to marry her?”

           “Probably.” Brian starts to walk towards the kitchen but loses his balance and ends up on the couch. “I mean, she just told me this morning. It's not like we’ve shopped for rings.”

           The phone rings from the kitchen again and I walk towards the noise out of habit. “Hello?” I answer automatically.

           “Is Brian there?” I recognize the soft, polite voice.

           “Yeah, he's here, Julia.  Hang on.” I put the receiver down on the countertop and return to the living room to find Brian already shaking his head no. “Sorry, he's busy,” I say when I pick up the phone again.

           “Please, April. I just need to tell him something.”

           “I’ll ask him to call you later. OK?”

“Forget it,” her voice quivers like she’s trying not to cry. “Maybe it's better if he doesn't.”

           I've always liked Julia.  She's nice, even though she's pretty and popular.  She could have easily been a cheerleader, but she has a beautiful voice and likes theater instead.  I used to wonder if she'd end up a movie star if she followed Brian to UCLA.  Guess that won't be happening now.

           “She sounds sad.” I say when I'm back in front of the couch.

           Brian's eyes are closed. “Why? She's getting what she wants.”

           I want to tell him that’s harsh but decide not to.  I mean, I'm not thrilled with Julia's resistance to adoption either since it will ruin my brother's life too. But I doubt she wants this.  

“Why did this happen, Brian? Everyone else has sex just for fun and it’s not happening to them.”

           “Sex is about more than just fun, April.” He sounds as sad as Julia.

I flop down beside him. “Did you always love her when you guys had sex?” I ask but, when he doesn't respond, I decide I don't want to know. “So, you’re really doing the whole ring, proposal, wedding thing?  Live together and all that?”

           “What else should I do, sis? Leave Julia here? Go play basketball in California and occasionally send her some money?”

           No, I can’t see him doing that. And I can’t think of anything else to suggest.

           “So, Julia sounded really sad?” Brian asks into silence.

           “Yeah.  She sounded broken.”

           He looks up at me and his eyes seem clearer. “I never want her broken.  I love her.”

           “I’m glad. At least it's not like you have to marry a stranger or some girl you don't even like.”

           “I do want to marry Julia,” he explains and I'm not sure if it's to me or himself. “I guess we have to do it a lot sooner now, but I'd want to marry her someday anyway.”

           I hear a spark of hope in his voice and I’m so relieved that I smile. “It'll work out, Brian.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “And I'm gonna be one bitchin aunt to your kid!”

           Miraculously, Brian smiles too.

           “It's will be an awesome kid!” he declares. “I've been such a dick. I gotta call Julia.”

           He moves from the couch to the kitchen, seeming to have sobered up a lot. I follow behind to eavesdrop.

           “Hello, Mrs.... Yeah, this is Brian.” He's pacing anxiously as he presses the receiver to his ear. “I know.  But I need to talk to her.” He opens his mouth a few times like he wants to say more. Then the pacing stops and he's not moving at all.  He's just standing still with his mouth open.  Then he hangs up.

           “You didn’t talk to Julia?” I ask.

           “No. Just her mom.” He won't look at me. “Her mom said Julia went to the clinic early this afternoon.  She had an abortion.”

           Nothing in my fifteen years has taught me what to say right now.

           Is it weird that I feel upset?  Should I be relieved?  Disappointed?

           Brian walks away before I find any empty words to offer.  I watch his back as he exits the kitchen and listen to the front door slam.  I pray he doesn't have his keys.

           I'm not sure how long I stand there without a clue of what to do next, but the sun is almost down when the phone rings again.  I guess I answer it because I'm suddenly hearing Kenneth's happy voice in my ear.

           “Hey, are you listening, April?” he asked excitedly. “I said I've got a surprise so please tell me you can go out on Valentine's Day.”

           I feel guilty that Kenneth's words are making me sick right now. “I don't know,” I tell him with a knot in my stomach instead of butterflies. “Do we have to?”

           “Are you OK, April?” he asks sweetly. “It's a good surprise.”

           “You'd better just tell me, then.”

           “OK, sure! I got us passes to a Star Wars marathon that night! My folks said they would drive us and pick us up, but we can stay for all three movies. So, do you want to go?”

            I really don't know why I start to cry, but I work hard to keep it quiet because I don't think Kenneth will realize that these aren't bad tears.

“I'd love to go!” I gush to him.

           “Awesome! I heard that people even dress in costumes and I thought we could be like Han and Leia for Valentine's Day.  Doesn't that sound like fun?”

            “Yeah, that sounds exactly like fun.”

THE END

[megalony]

Sweet hurt- Part 6

This is the latest part in my Ben Hardy series which finally has the big reveal of all the secrets. Thank you all for the lovely feedback, I hope you like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me

Summary: Ben has never talked to (Y/n) about his family that he has no contact with, but when his sister convinces him to try and reconnect with his family, things get tricky and old feuds and secrets arise.

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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"Don't do this."

Ben's eyes fell closed and his chin tilted down to press into his chest when those three little words raced through his ears quicker than the speed of light. Those were words that he had said so many times in the past, they were words he had heard spoken in tones of worry, fear anger and even hate. They were words he didn't want to listen to anymore.

Turning on his heels so he was no longer facing the door that had been taunting him for the past five minutes, Ben locked his eyes on his big brother who now looked like a shaken mess. His brunette hair was curled and dishevelled, his eyes were wide with panic and tears and his face was blotched red.

Joe hurried out of his car and made his way over to Ben who took two steps back as a precaution. He wasn't getting close to Joe in case either of them felt the urge to start a fight. Ben couldn't feel sorry for Joe because he had spent too long feeling like he had to keep his brother's secrets, he had kept quiet for eight years, Ben wasn't doing this for another eight or for the rest of his life like Joe wanted. Joe didn't have his world turned upside down like Ben had, he hadn't suffered or wallowed in pain and self-pity like Ben, it was his turn to suffer and Ben was going to make sure it happened so that he could be free.

"I wouldn't have to if you had told them in the first place. You did this, not me."

"How is this going to help, what are you going to achieve by breaking everyone? Mum hasn't been well, you're going to kill her with this." Joe's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides like he was trying to find the courage to punch Ben to stop him from going through with this. His words that were supposed to dissuade Ben were only riling him up and made him more determined to go through with it.

"Mum's been sick since the day Thomas died, but it won't be me who kills her because it's your secret I'm gonna tell. This is going to help me, I'm doing this for my sake, not theirs and you're not going to stop me."

When Thomas died it killed a big part of Andrea and she hadn't been the same. She had lost one of her children, she was never going to recover from that and Ben knew telling her might make her feel worse, but it wouldn't be Ben's fault because he was only going to tell the truth that everyone deserved to know. He wasn't going to turn around and go home simply because Joe was trying to save his own skin and using their family as some sort of blackmail.

"Ben-"

The blond shook off Joe's hand violently when Joe grabbed him to try and stop him from walking inside their family home that felt like a prison of memories to Ben.

"I'm done lying for you Joe!" Ben couldn't control his voice or his temper, he could hear his teeth grinding against one another and he could feel the throbbing vein in his neck like it was going to burst. His gaze locked with Joe's for what felt like a lifetime before Ben broke the gaze and turned to the red wooden door.

He didn't bother ringing the bell or knocking on the door he already knew would be open, he simply barged inside and left the door for Joe to shut. He knew his brother wouldn't scarper and go back home because he had to see if Ben was going to go through with this or not and he was going to want to make more excuses. Joe wanted to change Ben's mind and even though he knew he couldn't, he wasn't going to stop trying.

As Ben walked down the hall he felt a great urge to reach out and smash all the pictures from the walls that didn't contain him or Thomas anymore. He wanted to break the frames and tear the photos and rip apart all the ones containing Joe. To refrain himself Ben dragged his fisted hand across the lower half of the wall, imagining that all the pictures were cowering and falling to the floor in his wake.

How dare they remove all the pictures of Ben. How dare they remove his memory and act like he had never existed when he had done nothing wrong.

How dare they take down every picture except one that contained Thomas simply because he had died. They should be hanging every photo of him all around the house so they could keep his memory alive instead of forgetting about him too because he was gone and that hurt. Ben had his brother's name tattooed on his chest so he could never forget about him but everyone else removed him from their lives.

The moment Ben stormed into the living room he could feel his energy being taken over by rage that was giving him the power and confidence to do this instead of turning around and driving back home to his real family. He didn't want to be here any longer than was necessary but he knew this was going to take a while and he knew the end result was not going to be pretty.

"Ben, are you okay?" Lucy reached out for her brother's hand but Ben moved away before she had the chance to touch him. Lucy was his weakness because she was the only one that Ben truly didn't want to hurt. If she tried to comfort him or he saw her crying he would break and lose the will to talk, he had to stay in check and keep his anger going.

"Ben come on, don't do this. We don't need any more arguments-" Joe once again tried to stop Ben and the expression on his face almost made Ben cave in, almost. "I'm not here to argue I'm here to talk so sit down or get out-"

"Boys stop it, Joe's right we've argued enough, both of you calm down."

Ben's eyes fell closed when Roger's words hit his ears and interrupted him, all he wanted to do was speak. He wanted everyone to sit down and let him say everything that he had to and then they could argue and cry and talk amongst themselves to their heart's content. Ben just needed to speak first.

"All of you sit down! I'm going to talk and no one is fucking stopping me, especially not you so sit down or get out if you can't take what I'm going to say." Ben snapped his words like the jaw of a crocodile, pointing at everyone to make his words clear. When he looked at Joe he clicked his fingers and pointed to the armchair before pointing to the door to signify that Joe didn't have to stay if he couldn't bear to hear the truth that Ben was going to tell.

Ben was speaking and no one was going to stop him or interrupt him, they were going to sit and listen to what he had to say before he went mad with rage and grief.

He quickly lowered his arm when he realised how badly his body was shaking from rage and nerves. Ben's head tipped down as he took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down as Roger sat back down and Joe stumbled over to the armchair on Ben's left. Both Andrea and Lucy were sitting on the sofa as Ben had taken centre stage in the middle of the room in front of the coffee table. Everyone was leaning back in their seats, confused and worried expressions on their faces as they didn't understand.

"Thank you," Ben spoke breathlessly as he suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands that were twitching and clenching at his sides. "None of you know the truth about Thomas and you've blamed me when it wasn't my fault. You need to know the truth."

Ben noticed the moment Thomas' name passed through his lips his mother paled and her lower lip trembled like she was going to cry or even be sick. Her head started to shake as she closed her eyes, not wanting to listen to what Ben had to say, he could see she hadn't taken in what he had said. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with everything, Ben telling her it was a lie wasn't going to go down well with her.

He noticed Joe itching in his seat n discomfort and worry, looking like a child who was about to get told off. Ben saw Lucy just staring at him with pain and intrigue, she was clearly the only one who was willing to listen to what Ben was going to say.

Roger, on the other hand, he looked angry. One hand was balled into s fist and his other hand was gripping the arm of the chair so tightly he was making imprints into the fabric. His jaw was locked and his frown was set on his face but his eyes were burning into Ben so badly he felt like he was a child being scolded. But he hadn't done anything wrong, Roger had to know that he had been wrong about Ben and the way he had treated him because Ben had done nothing wrong but he had taken the blame when he shouldn't have.

"What are you doing? We know what happened Ben and you left. What, after eight years have you decided you no longer want to face what you did?" Roger's words would have normally cut right through Ben but his anger was providing him with a shield that was deflecting their words and the pain they were trying to cause.

"After eight years I've decided I'm not going to be a scapegoat any more and I decided you are going to listen to me for once in your life and see just how wrong you've been. Thomas didn't die because of me." Ben's frame and height loomed over Roger and stopped him from getting up out of his seat when he noticed the look on his youngest son's face. Ben wasn't letting Roger get up and intimidate him or walk away from him, he was going to sit there and listen to what he had to say.

"Honey stop it." Andrea rested her head in her hands, leaning into Lucy when the youngest sibling wrapped an arm gently around Andrea's frame to hold her like she was holding all of her broken pieces together.

"Ben no one blames you-"

"Thomas didn't die because of me, he died because of Joe."

The calmness in his tone made Lucy think she had misheard him but Ben's snarling expression and his eyes full of burning passion told her she had heard every word correctly. Her head slowly turned to look at her eldest brother whose jaw was hanging open but no words were leaving his lips.

"What the fuck are you going on about?" Roger's crude words were slowed down and cracked in places when he noticed the expression on Ben's face that he had never seen before and the way that Joe was shrunken in his seat. If Ben was making this up then Joe would have jumped to defend himself or try and calm Ben down and tell him he was just feeling guilty or grief or that he was suffering some form of PTSD. But when the eldest sibling stayed completely quiet and looked shattered in the inside and out, Roger shrunk like he was melting in his chair.

"Joe killed him."

Ben felt the slightest swirl of pain in his chest when he looked at his brother and saw a flood of tears in Joe's eyes because he knew he couldn't deny it. No matter how badly Joe wanted to tell their family that Ben was crazed with guilt and simply trying to alleviate his guilt, he couldn't. Ben had been through too much and Joe couldn't try and make it worse to save himself.

"I don't understand." Lucy pursed her lips and closed her eyes, feeling her nose tingling from the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. How was it Joe's fault when before they had been told it was Ben? Why hadn't Ben said anything if he truly wasn't at fault? Why did Joe let him take the fall?

"The three of us went out that night and Joe decided he wanted to drive home. It wasn't me who drove the car home, it wasn't me who crashed it." Ben's shoulders started to shake and his throat started to close up from the sobs he was swallowing down so he could continue talking.

He hadn't been the brother who drove the car that all three of them had been in on that night. It wasn't Ben who ended up crashing and killing someone and he wasn't having them blame him for it any longer, Joe could face up to what he had done and he could face the wrath of their parents. He could feel the disappointment and the rage and pain that had been inflicted on Ben for a mistake he took the blame for.

"W-why didn't you say anything?" His response was quiet but Ben didn't know if he was talking to him or Joe. The muscles around Roger's jaw were pulsing and pushing outwards like they were trying to break free. His throat was dry but his eyes were pouring with tears from the very mention of that night that he wanted to erase from his mind altogether.

He didn't want to remember waking up in the dead of night from a phone call from the hospital telling him all three of his boys were there. He didn't want to remember speeding down the motorway to get to his boys but to inevitably be too late to see Thomas before he passed. Roger had thought that maybe he was going to lose all of his boys and at one point he thought he wasn't going to lose any of them. He lost one son but somewhere down the line he ended up losing another, now he felt like he had lost all three of them.

Turning his head, Ben glanced at Joe but saw he wasn't going to attempt to make any sort of answer or excuse or explination because he couldn't find the will to face what he had done.

"He didn't do it, t-tell him Joe, tell him!" Andrea tried to reach over and take Joe's hand but he pulled away, turning his head so he was looking out of the bay window instead of facing his family. Her words cut through Ben because he knew she had spent the last eight years trying not to blame him but she couldn't help it. Now she was being told she had blamed the wrong son.

"He told me to take the blame, mum. Your perfect son told me to say I was driving because he was drunk and he didn't have a licence. If they knew it was him he would have been in prison." Ben finally let the tears fall from his eyes as he knotted his hands into his hair, digging his fingernails into his scalp to try and control himself and gain back the ability to breathe properly but every breath sounded forced and started to hurt.

If Joe had been found out as being the driver of the car he would have been sentenced for sure because he had been drinking and he didn't have his licence at the time and he wasn't insured on the car. His acting career would have been non-existent and he would have done time for manslaughter. But by Ben taking the blame he didn't get sentenced because he was insured and had his licence, even though he was a bit over the limit from drink as well.

It had been the safer bet for Ben to take the blame but Thomas died.

Thomas passed away and therefore the guilt was passed onto Ben because Joe told their parents Ben was driving. Ben wasn't going to lie but Joe beat him to the mark, he passed the blame and Ben was stuck with the guilt he didn't deserve.

"You should have told me."

"I told you it wasn't my fault but you kicked me out! If I told you the truth you would have told the police I know you would and I didn't because of Joe. You cast me out so I left, telling you wouldn't stop mum from pretending I was him because I didn't die but he did. I'm sick of lying and being hated by all of you for Joe's crime." Ben spoke through cries and tears of agony, watching Roger finally break down in sobs as he rested his head in his hands.

If Ben told Roger the truth at the time then Roger would have done the right thing and told the police. He wouldn't accept Joe not taking the responsibility and Ben taking the blame, he would want to do the right thing and Ben didn't want his brother to go to prison. He told Roger it wasn't his fault, Roger could have believed that Ben just skidded on the road or swerved out of the way of something and it was an accident. But he believed that Ben had been drunk driving because he was slightly over the limit and Joe didn't dissuade that belief.

As Ben's eyes scanned around his sobbing family, he had to fight very hard to resist the urge to leave then and there. He couldn't leave yet, he hadn't told them everything.

"If Joe didn't drive that night it wouldn't have made much difference, Thomas would still have died."

All of the sobbing in the room suddenly came to a stop when Ben spoke up so they would hear him. Their eyes set on him but each and every one of them were filled with confusion and dread. They didn't understand, even Joe didn't understand because Ben was the secret keeper, he knew more than Joe did about this.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked but Ben could see in her eyes that she didn't really want to know the answer. This is what (Y/n) had been talking about. Telling his family that he wasn't the source of their pain was good for Ben's state of mind because he was no longer keeping secrets and he was relieving himself of the burden even if it caused his family pain. But (Y/n) didn't think this was something they needed to know, it was hurting them more than they deserved but Ben didn't want any more secrets to keep.

"He had pancreatic cancer, he only had a year to live." Pancreatic cancer was one that couldn't be cured, it acted quickly and Thomas didn't have long to live, but he didn't even get another year because of the crash. But if Joe didn't crash the car, Thomas still would have passed away and they still would have mourned him.

"N-no he didn't..." Joe shook his head as his stomach churned like he was going to be sick. Thomas never had that, he never told them that he was feeling unwell or gave any hints that something was wrong. He couldn't have told Ben but didn't tell anyone else.

"I drove him to the hospital... he was going to tell you all but..." Ben shrugged his shoulders that now felt lighter as if a weight had been lifted from them. Even though Ben was the youngest boy, he had been the only one to pass his test. Thomas didn't want to drive even though he had been twenty-four and Joe kept failing his test, so Ben had taken his eldest brother to the hospital for tests. He promised not to tell anyone because Thomas had been trying to pick the best moment, but it never came around. After he died, Ben didn't have the heart to tell anyone because it was like stabbing someone who was already dead.

But now he wanted to tell them, whether it was to spite his family or just inform them, Ben couldn't be sure.

Tipping his head down, Ben ran his hand over his face to try and wipe away the tears but he was still crying. He couldn't stay here any longer, he had said what he needed to say and he had done the damage he had always been afraid of creating. He could go home now and be at peace knowing that no one could or would blame him anymore.

He didn't know how to tell them he was leaving, it felt so horrible to drop that bombshell on everyone and then just walk out, but staying made him feel like he was overstaying his welcome when he hadn't really been welcome in the first place.

Silently, Ben walked out of the living room and headed down the hallway, pressing his hand against the wall to steady himself when he started to become breathless. His upper body drooped forward until he was almost crawling for the door, but the moment he reached the door he felt hands grasping his shoulders trying to help him up but also make sure he didn't leave just yet. He thought it would have been Lucy who followed him out, but then again she was sat with Andrea sobbing into her lap so she couldn't have followed him out.

It was Roger who was holding Ben up.

Ben kept his blurring vision on the door that he was desperate to run out of and escape, but he didn't shake Roger's hands off. Roger had spent eight years in sorrow trying to figure out how he could say sorry to Ben for what he had said whilst still believing Ben to be the cause of Thomas' death. Now he still didn't know what to say, but he knew the truth.

"Sorry won't be enough for what I said and I don't want or ever expect forgiveness from you. I always wanted you to come back home. Now I- I just... I want you to know I love you so much... please don't walk out that door forever."

When Roger rested his head against Ben's shoulder and pulled him closer, Ben felt himself crumbling like a cliff that had been hit too many times by the sea. Roger was never going to ask or expect forgiveness because he didn't feel he deserved it and Ben shouldn't have to forgive him. But he had never stopped loving Ben, despite what he had said to him and he didn't want Ben to leave and never come back. When Ben had left all those years ago, Roger had thought of him every day because he wanted him to come back, he couldn't lose Ben now. Not now he had only just come back into Roger's life.

Ben couldn't truthfully tell Roger that he wasn't coming back because there was a small part of him that didn't want to leave things like this forever. But Ben didn't know if he could cope with trying to come back into this family or even trying to see them again without arguments or just looks of sorrow.

But in that moment, Ben turned himself around and wrapped his arms tighter around Roger's frame than he had ever done before. He tucked his head into Roger's neck as he sobbed, feeling Roger pull him tightly against his chest. He didn't want to spend any more time hating Roger.

All scores were settled now.

[serpent-jugheadjones]

The Partner Revealed - Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader 

Description: After the Drive-In’s incident, will things between them return to normal? Jason’s memorial reveals more than they expected about the case.  

Warnings: Cheryl’s bullying; other than that, I think you’re good. 

Word count: 3964  

A/N: Took me long enough to get it done. This is the slowest of burns… I wanted their relationship to build in the fic, not just explain it and move on. I promise you’ll get some ‘action’ next part! Also, there’s a reference to one of @jugheadxreaderinyourhead‘s stories.

Y/N’s point of view  

Y/N squints her eyes when sunlight invades her room, hitting her mirror and eventually her face. She’s been up all night after the Drive-In, with everything about it still clear in her memory. First, the long wait for Jughead, then the way his arm rested on the back of her seat, his breathing close to her skin... She imagines what his lips would’ve felt like, had he not backed away. Anyway, it’s no good wasting time on what ifs, so she gets up to take a shower and change the clothes that still smell like buttered popcorn and men’s cologne. The warm water falls down her body, soaking her hair and slowing her thoughts, finally getting her mind out of that.

She leaves water droplets and wet footprints on the floor heading to her room. Y/N didn’t take a towel, knowing she was still alone, something more often than not. She loves it, actually, for a few phone calls a week are all this independent girl can handle from her parent’s loud personality. Y/N remembers about Betty’s offer while getting dressed and reflects if she should accept it. Maybe spending more time with Jughead is not such a good idea, giving the previous night’s events – and the way she’s been drifting from her goals. Looking at her writing desk, she sees that old homework still lying there, unfinished. She writes its last paragraph with ease, and carefully places it in a folder, inside her Y/F/C backpack. It feels good to be a multitasker, after all.

Without realizing, she’s standing in front of the Blue and Gold’s office door. Apparently, her desire to be with Jug is stronger than her mind. Y/N doesn’t even have to knock for Betty to open the door, and she does it with a smile. “I knew you’d say yes.”, the blonde cheerleader says grabbing Y/N’s hand and pulling her in. “It will look good on my college applications.”, she claims, not wanting to reveal the unconscious reason she’s there: the magnetic quintessence of Jones III. “Where’s Jug?”, she asks looking around. “He went to get Kevin. You know Kev’s dad is the Sh…” “Sheriff, yes.”, she completes Betty’s sentence. “Right. Last night someone broke into their home and destroyed his murder board.”, the blonde discloses, fixing a styrofoam board and some thumbtacks. “Damn. Things are getting serious.”, Y/N quivers. “Thankfully Kevin had a good look of how it was before it got smashed.”, Betty says with a rascal look. “So we’re making our very own murder board, Miss Drew?”, Y/N infers excitedly.

The door opens and both Kevin and Jughead walk in. Jughead looks flabbergasted at the sight of Y/N. It’s understandable, after his lack of action at the Drive-In, but she can’t help wondering that he’s distraught like that because he doesn’t want to see her anymore. Betty notices the weird vibe coming from them and goes help Kevin pinning pictures with names and newspaper cut-outs at the board, giving them space to talk. “I… I don’t… Don’t…”, Jughead stutters. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s pretend it never happened.” She knows it won’t be forgotten, but she’s committed not to bring it up again so that awkwardness between them can disappear once and for all. Jughead simply smiles and nods. She can almost feel the weight being pulled from his shoulders. They both join the others on the murder board.

The group not only enjoy the new set of eyes they have on the case but brainstorm about who could’ve broken in the Sheriff’s house. Kevin shares with them a list of things that were stolen: files, background checks, audio and videotapes of the interviews. Whoever did it was smart enough not to leave fingerprints behind, and Jughead adds the fact they chose that specific night to do so, with everyone at the Twilight, including Sheriff Keller himself, patrolling. Y/N suggests it may not even be the killer who stole the stuff, but she doesn’t have time to explain her point of view as Trev walks in. He asks if his date with Betty is still up. Y/N thinks that’s odd, for it seemed the blonde was recently desperately in love with Archie Andrews, but believes it’s probably for the best she’s moving on. As soon as the ex-football player leaves, Kevin bombards Betty with questions about her date. She claims it’s just an intelligence gathering, but everyone heard her call it a date with an ear-to-ear smile. Bets tries to justify herself saying they have the upper hand, not the Sheriff, being able to access the kids at Riverdale High in a way he never will, and that she’s just taking advantage of that. They can’t go against it, but it’s highly unlikely that Kevin will let that go any time soon.

Jughead’s point of view

Jughead is finding it hard to keep his focus on Jason’s case with Y/N standing next to him, with the scent of white chocolate and ginger taking over his nostrils, in addition to the sound of her voice muffling everyone else’s. He catches himself staring at her lips more often than ever, furious at himself for not taking action when he had the chance, pondering if he’ll even get a second one. “Y/N/N, come have lunch with us. We’re meeting Archie at the football field.”, Betty says locking arms with the Y/H/C girl, not giving her much room to deny it and snapping Jughead out of his daydream. “Eating is always the solution to my troubles.”. At least he hopes so, as this is a completely new dilemma.

They meet up with Veronica in the cafeteria line and each one of them just grabs a pack of fries to go. Jughead finishes his before they even arrive at the bleachers to join Archie, not only because he eats fast but the unstimulating conversation made him want to be deaf. Betty’s still dragging Y/N around like a handbag, so he couldn’t even try to engage on interesting conversation.

As soon as they sit, the subject changes from Betty’s love life to Archie’s. Thankfully, Y/N is released from Betty’s arms and sits down next to him. She extends her fries to him. He smiles and grabs a few, a small act assuring him they can get back to normal. He has to focus on chewing, otherwise his lips would be busy doing something else, and the school bleachers with all his friends around isn’t exactly how he pictures his first kiss to go down.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sad Breakfast Club.” Jug and Y/N look at each other and roll eyes, already used to those not quite insults. “But I’m here to formally invite you to Jason’s memorial at Thornhill this weekend.”, Cheryl interjects, handing out black envelopes to everyone. It’s very surprising that Jughead is on the guest list, giving all the years of bullying coming from both Blossom twins, but what really makes them all dumbfounded is that Y/N gets one. “Yes. Morticia, you are invited. Personally, I wouldn’t have, but mother says everyone who had a connection with Jason is welcome.”, the red-haired refers to Y/N derisively, making Jughead clench his fists inside his jacket’s pocket, so hard it whitens his knuckles and pop his veins. Cheryl’s gone just as she appeared, quickly and quietly, off to deliver more envelopes.   

Y/N’s point of view  

Y/N holds her black invitation with hesitation. Her father is a doctor, so evidently she has seen him dealing with the loss of a patient and grief is not a new feeling for her. Actually, what’s making her uncomfortable about the situation is having been invited altogether. It’s not like Jason and her were friends. They barely knew each other, and whenever the football team was around, he made sure to torment Y/N just enough to make it seem like he despised her for not conforming to the tycoon pattern. Ultimately, she doesn’t mind it all that much, the bullying and the mainstream. The charming girl tries to brush those worries away as she notices Jughead’s concerned look towards her reaction.

Jug is waiting outside her classroom after the last period. “How come you don’t drive the Impala to school everyday?”, he asks inquisitively. “If I did, you wouldn’t walk me home.”, she answers playfully, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Should I also walk you to Thornhill this weekend?”, Jughead asks and she can almost sense a nervous tone but his confident face hides it well. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” She’s not sure if it’s appropriate to be this happy about going to a memorial. However, the girl can’t help herself. As they head to Y/N’s house, she notices Jug is walking closer and closer to her each time. This happier young lady tried her best to act normal all day, attempting not to lose his friendship, even if it meant he would lose what seemed to be a passionate interest in her. However, analyzing the way things unfolded, she believes they could hold hands, sharing some warmth, and nothing would break them apart ever again, quite the opposite: it is as if a stronger bondage between those misfit teenagers is being welded just because they made a conjoint effort to remain in partnership. She can finally let loose.

Y/N makes out someone whisper-shouting her name at the classroom’s backdoor, but ignores it, heavily considering she’s going mad. When she hears it for the third time, much closer to her, the confused girl turns around to discover Jughead, squatted behind her chair with a cheeky look. “What are you doing here?”, she whispers, making sure the teacher is still writing on the board, unable to see him there. “Came to rescue you, of course.”, he replies, grabbing her book from the desk and placing it on her backpack, slowly leaving, still unnoticed by the others. “Ask to be excused.”, he instructs her. The teacher is just as astound as Y/N that she raised her hand in class. “May I go to the bathroom?” As each word leaves her lips, she knows how much being with that boy means to her, for she’ll leave class just because he asked, and without explanation. The retired physicist agrees at once and the half oblivious, half ecstatic girl walks out.

They end up at the student lounge. Jughead leads the way, still carrying her backpack. “Care to enlighten me why you ‘rescued’ me from a pre-test class?”, she asks pretending to be angry, not very convincingly, and Jug can tell. “You know, usually shining knights are thanked with a kiss, not questions.” He playfully points at his cheek and the girl’s heart almost beats out her chest. “I’m not a knight, though.” Jughead doesn’t give her time to process it or even make a move but a smirk doesn’t leave his face. “Why then?” She sits on the couch and he joins her. “You looked bored. Clearly I’m better company than Mr. Tedious Teacher.” He points at his chest. Y/N just chuckles.

Betty enters the student lounge looking dismal. Y/N notices her quick change to a resentful expression at the sight of Jughead sitting next to her, laughing. Both pause their conversation to shift their attention to the information the blonde got from her ‘date’ with Trev, but not only that, also what she managed to get out of her father in relation to Polly. Y/N changes sits to comfort Bets after finding out her sister tried to kill herself, even though it didn’t make sense for her. “Why does a rich kid sell drugs?”, Jughead asks rhetorically and stands up. Y/N/N almost forgets what they’re talking about at the sight of Jug’s brows frown in concentration. “He was running away from his parents.”, Betty says. “But why would he have to run away from mommy and daddy dearest?”, Y/N inquires. “Because they’re monsters.”, the blonde expresses. “Yeah, but why, specifically.” Jughead’s tone gets more serious. “Well, we can’t exactly just ask them.”, Y/N points out sadly. “So we have to ask Jason.” Both girls look at him puzzled. “Are you suggesting Ouija board? Because that’s not a reliable source of information.”, the Y/H/C girl states skeptically. “No. Dead men tell no tales. But their bedrooms, their houses…”, Jug explains, implyingly. Y/N is reluctant to accept the idea of snooping around the dead kid’s room. If she wants to get into an Ivy League college, breaking and entering is not something very good to have on her record. Betty, on the other hand, jumps on Jug’s plan without a second thought, which made Y/N suspicious, weakening her already faint will to take part in that plan. It’s only after Juggie promises Y/N will be the first to read his manuscript that she accepts to be their look-out. Bets doesn’t look pleased with the negotiation, constantly suggesting they don’t need a guard.

Jughead’s point of view

Jug is getting ready to leave for the ghostly mansion, slowly recollecting that week’s events. As he leads up to the memorial, he gets slightly confused because he finally realizes the extra attention and weird looks he’s been getting from Betty. Even more so with her proposing to go with him to Jason’s memorial. The beanie-clad boy politely declined, explaining that since he was going from Y/N’s place, it would be better if they just met there. Actually, he had to emphasize Beth’s house was linearly opposite from where they were going to leave.

He tries to convince himself it’s just to get close to Archie’s best friend, even if that sounds ridiculous, because so is she. Besides, Jug can’t afford thinking it’s more than that since his mind is already having a hard time figuring out why Y/N won’t leave his thoughts. He decides to target his energy into Jason’s case, managing to make the right knot for his tie after a few attempts and covering his curly dark hair with his beanie.

He fails at his mission to concentrate on the novel the second Y/N opens her front door. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the girl wearing a knee-length black dress, topped with a loose dark grey knitted cardigan. Nothing fancy, but he wouldn’t be able to tell even if it was. “Looking good, Jones.”, she breaks the silence, running her hands down his blue tie. Jughead remains speechless, with irregular heartbeats, simply noticing her cheeks gaining a rosy tint. “You look… stunning.”, Jug finally finds the combination of words he was looking for. He can see the smile she’s trying to hide, which jump-starts his heart. “Shall we?” She entwines fingers with him, closing the door behind her. It’s only then he observes Y/N is a few inches taller, coming to the conclusion that she really doesn’t need heels to be phenomenal.

He lets go of her hand, against his personal wishes, as they arrive at the poignant gates of Thornhill. Given their mission there, it’s advisable to keep a low profile, and the town’s weirdo walking in hand in hand with the town’s loner isn’t exactly discreet. Much to his dismay, Mrs. Blossom calls out for Y/N. “Where are your parents, dear?”, the woman questions. “Australia. But they send their condolences.”, Y/N answers with empathy for the grieving mother. “Oh, yes. Dr. Y/F/L/N and Mrs. Y/M/L/N, always away.” Rancor is filling her voice. “Were they abroad during the July 4th weekend?” Jughead resents her for asking that and he’s just about to stand up for Y/N when Archie saves them both from the scandal. The confusion caused by the ginger’s resemblance to Jason shows on the woman’s face with intensity, which grows when he hands her a folded varsity shirt with a visible number. It’s 9, her son’s. A sweet unintentional act that distracts her from accusing Y/N of killing Jason.

Freed from Penelope’s nonsense, she pulls Jughead inside to sit on the far corner, where it was less likely to have people eavesdropping. “Of course. It all makes sense now.”, she whispers. “What does?”, he asks bewildered. “Cheryl said everyone who had a connection with Jason was welcome. I think it’s so they gather all their suspects in one room. Including us…”, Y/N explains and Jug is just about to agree with her when Betty sits next to him. “You look nice, Juggie.”, Betty says. “Thanks, Bets. You too.”, he replies blatantly. Everyone’s heads turn back at the sight of Cheryl Blossom walking towards the lectern, wearing the same outfit she was found in at Sweet Water River, leaving everyone dumbfounded. The girl stood out in white in a room full of black. Craziness aside, Jug believes she’s the only one in that family who’s actually dealing with grief. Mrs. Blossom looks thirsty for justice and her husband seems cold and distant.

Y/N’s point of view  

They listen to Cheryl’s melancholic story. Y/N can see, out of the corner of his eye, Penelope’s wrath being choked to keep up appearances, and that makes her understand why Jason’s sister is so mean, almost feeling sorry for the spoiled girl. As Cheryl finishes her speech, everyone is directed to the Winter Salon. Betty seizes this opportunity to sleuth, making sure the three of them are out of eyesight. Jughead places his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”, he asks, practically begging. “You know what? To hell with it. Let’s go.”, she answers. After the way she was greeted, Y/N doesn’t have anything keeping her on track anymore.

Thornhill is such a dreadful maze that a couple wrong turns are enough to get them lost. It takes Jughead to close his eyes, retrace their steps and remember Veronica’s directions to eventually make it to Jason’s room. They go in with all the caution possible, bewildered by the extensive amount of football gear and trophies everywhere. “Is is just me or does it feel like we’re being watched?” She gets goosebumps. “That’s just the icy chill stare of the dead.”, Jughead answers in a very spine-chilling way that visibly  frightens even himself, so everybody look at him stopping for a second to recompose, probably trying to be rational again. He finally instructs them to look under the mattress, inside the drawers, behind the headboard and in the closet as those are the most likely places for a teenage boy to hide things. Their snooping is cut short as an old lady in a wheelchair calls out for them, scaring the life out of their bodies.

“Turns out I was right about being watched.”, Y/N whispers in Jug’s ear, as she holds tightly onto his tense arm. The lady comes to light and they recognize Jason’s practically blind grandmother, who confuses Betty with her sister, Polly. They silently instruct the terrified blonde to go along with the lady’s mistake. “Such a shame. Your wedding was the last thing I was living for. I lost a grandson, but you, you’ve lost the love of your young life.”, grandma Blossom confesses with sadness. Y/N and Jughead quietly watch as Betty’s heart breaks and she runs away. They hurry after her. She’s spotted by the gate and Y/N simply signals Jug she’ll handle it.

Y/N is sure Betty would rather have one of her friends to console her. Be that as it may, this needs immediate attention. The white chocolate and ginger smelling girl isn’t sure if she should hug her, deciding it’s safer to just place a hand on her back. “They lied. Jason didn’t break up with Polly. He’s not the reason she left.”, the blonde speaks through sobs. “That’s horrible. I know it hurts, but you’re closer to the truth now. We’ll figure it out, together.” Y/N tries to comfort the distressed girl. “You’re right. I’m gonna confront my parents. I won’t rest until I know what happened to my sister. Thank you, Y/N/N.” Betty takes Y/N by surprise embracing her. The blonde girl wipes the tears away and leaves Thornhill to get some urgently needed answers. “That was really nice of you.”, Jughead says behind Y/N. “I just hope I didn’t add more wood to the fire…” Y/N wants the girl to find what she’s looking for, even if that’s NOT what she wants to find. “So, you’re parents are in Australia, huh?”, he asks raising his eyebrows. “Yep. Wanna have a movie marathon to forget this hellish day?”, she asks hopefully. “Only if we get Pop’s take out first.”, he adds with a smile. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Jones.”, she replies as they walk automatically to their favorite dinner.

Jughead’s point of view  

Jughead is once more in the cushiness of Y/N’s couch. First thing he does before they start their marathon is remove his jacket and tie, unbuttoning his shirt’s collar so he can breath. They’re much more comfortable around each other than the first time, therefore sitting closer. Her hand weightlessly lies on his arm. He lightly brushes his fingertips on her skin, which is way more interesting to look at than the TV both of them neglected after the third movie. Jug’s watching the colorful luminosity from the television on her body, but the worn-out boy can barely keep his eyes open,  so he’s about to stand up and leave when he notices Y/N is napping on his arm. Not wanting to disrupt her looking so peaceful, Jug just grabs some pillows and rests there. That couch is undoubtedly a huge improvement from a mattress on the floor of Riverdale High’s storage closet, not to mention the fabulous girl next to him. He falls asleep quicker than ever before.

A/N: Should’ve ended here but I had to set the bar for the next part.

The Blue and Gold’s room is packed with tenseness with the revelation about Polly’s actual condition. “Betty… if your parents lied about Jason and Polly, there’s probably more that they lied about.”, Jughead suggests, not actually accusing anyone. “What do you mean?”, the blonde looks clueless. “Your dad said he would do anything to protect Polly. So the next logical question is… How far would he go to protect her?”, Y/N implyingly accuses him of more than taking Betty’s sister away. Jughead figures Bets will be mad at it. “Guys, whoever broke into Sheriff Keller’s house and stole all his evidence wasn’t at the drive-in. My Dad wasn’t at the drive-in.”, Cooper discloses with little hesitation. Probably since Y/N was there for her on a moment of need she’s been taking the smart girl’s suggestions into consideration. “I’m sorry, Betty, but we have to add them in.” A sympathetic Y/N pins ‘Coopers’ on the murder board. “We need to talk to Polly.” Jughead looks at her with a hint of demand and the blonde just silently agrees.

[folklore-musings]

Camera Shy (part 9)

Camera Shy:  AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him.

Read on AO3 here

Read on Tumblr: Part 1  / Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4  /  Part 5  /  Part 6  /    Part 7  / Part 8

A/N: I know I said tomorrow, but look at this! I busted it out earlier than expected!  I really have nothing to say except I'm sorry this chapter took a lot longer than expected. Also - thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and comments. You are all so amazing, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. It was hell to write.

Jughead paces back and forth down the hallway while Betty sits in the bathroom, peeing on a plastic stick that may or may not determine their entire future. “Did you put a timer on?” Betty asks from the other side of the door. She refuses to let him watch her, it’s not like he’s never seen her naked before.

“I got it babe.” Jughead forces out. While he waits, he runs into his room and grabs his Polaroid. Whether it’s a single line or a double, this moment demands to be documented. Either the first of many baby pictures or just a photo they’ll laugh at years from now, when the worst thing they ever thought could happen was becoming parents.

When the timer on his phone begins to sound Jughead pushes his way into the bathroom. He doesn’t care if Betty’s squatting on the toilet with her pants pooled around her ankles. He needs to be a part of this moment. It’s his problem too.

Betty’s dressed and sitting on the edge of the tub. She has her hands over her eyes as if she’s participating in a game of “Peek-a-boo” with a small child. Jughead sets his camera down on the counter and walks towards her. He removes her hands from her face and pulls her to her feet. Once she’s steady he takes her hands and kisses each of her fingertips before interlocking their fingers together.

“Are you ready?”

There are tears lining her cheeks but she nods, hiccupping from all the crying she’s done that morning. “It’s on the counter. I can’t bring myself to look at it.”

Jughead releases the hold he has on her hands and picks up his Polaroid. He brings the camera to his eyes and focuses on the pregnancy test sitting beside it. Through the lens he reads his fate and snaps a photo. The sound of the picture printing is all he can hear, thundering in his ears. His heart races like the wings of a hummingbird. He takes the photo and stares at it, watching and waiting as the image forms and clears. With trembling fingers he hands it over to Betty, leaning in to press his lips to her forehead.

“Oh.” Is all that escapes her lips before a new round of tears cloud her eyes. The photo shakes in her hand and Jughead envelops Betty in his arms, wrapping her up in hug so tight he’s afraid he may suffocate her. He wants to wash away all her worries and her fears. He wants her to say something more than ‘oh’. He wants her to stop crying and talk to him.

Betty pushes him away and tosses the picture on the counter. He watches her turn right out the door, knowing she’s headed for her bedroom. He hears the slamming of her door. His heart crashes in a blazing fire in the pit of his chest. He grabs the test and the photo from the counter; tossing the test in the garbage and taking the Polaroid with him into his room. He grabs a pen and captions the image.

Oh Baby!

He pins the photo to the wall above his bed and swallows the lump in his throat. He needs to get up. He needs to leave. He needs to talk to Archie.

Jughead throws on a shirt and stalks across the hall. It’s barely 8 am and remembering the night before, his friends are probably sleeping off their hangovers but he doesn’t care. He pounds his fist on the door until it opens.

“May I help you?” Archie groans. Jughead walks right past him and begins pacing circles in their kitchen, playing with the sleep tousled curls on his head. “Sure, come on in Jughead.” Archie says sarcastically as he shuts the door. When Jughead says nothing Archie starts to worry. “Dude what’s wrong? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Jughead looks up from the floor and shoots Archie a look that he can only imagine is his version of the crazy eyes. “Betty -“ He mumbles, but when he does his voice breaks and the whole morning crashes into him like a Tsunami wave.

Archie’s eyes open wide in fear. “What’s wrong with Betty?”

Jughead tries to speak but he feels the tears spark in his eyes and he lifts his fists to his eyes and determinedly fights away the crying. He refuses to cry. He’s not going to let himself fall apart in Archie and Ronnie’s kitchen.

When Archie places a soothing hand on his back the waterfall begins. “Ah. Fuck.” Jughead cries, sniffling through the tears.

“Did she break up with you? What the fuck is going on Jug?”

Jughead shakes his head at Archie’s assumption and just lets his shoulders vibrate as he cries. He wills himself to stop but there is no magic off switch for the faucet currently pouring from his tear ducts. He needs to kick something, needs to hit something, anything.

He takes a deep, shaky breath and opens his mouth to speak. “Give me something to break before I punch a hole in your wall.”

Archie is quick to move over an arm’s length away from Jughead and reaches into the cupboard above the sink. “Here. It’s a china pattern that Ronnie’s grandma gave to us, and we hate it, but don’t have the heart to get rid of it.”

Jughead takes the plate from Archie and putting all his weight behind it, throws it against the wall. The plate shatters into hundreds of little pieces and Jughead’s heart is pounding like a sledgehammer in his chest. “Have you got anymore?”

Archie stacks up all the floral patterned china plates on the kitchen table and Jughead breaks them one by one, the frustration in his body simmering with every plate.

After the third one, Ronnie stomps into the room. “What the hell is going on in here? Is that my grandmother’s good china?”

Jughead grabs another plate and smashes it. “Archie said it was OK.” The fourth plate falls to the ground, blending in with the broken pieces before it.

Veronica turns on Archie and his cheeks almost match the color of his hair. “It was either that or he punched a hole in our wall Babe. What was I supposed to do?”

“Arch, plaster is a quick fix. That china is worth hundreds of dollars.” Jughead throws another plate.

“So you’re saying I should stop?” Jughead asks, holding a plate back, ready to nail it against the wall.

Veronica gives him a pointed look, her lips pursed in a straight line. “Yeah, that’d be a good idea. Unless you’d like to lose the ability to have children?”

“If only you would have done that a month ago.” Jughead breathes. At the sound of the word children, the sixth plate slips from Jughead’s slick grip and falls to the floor. “I gotta go.”

Without another word he says goodbye and heads for the door, leaving Ronnie and Archi standing there, baffled and confused. He crosses the hall and forces his way into his and Betty’s apartment. Grabbing two water bottles from the fridge he walks down to Betty’s room and let’s himself in, refusing to give her the option to turn him away.

All he can see of Betty is her blonde hair cascading over her floral pillow case. The rest of her body is consumed by her sheets and comforter. He can’t hear her crying, so he takes that as a good sign. Leaving the bottled water on her night stand, he shuffles into her bed and under the covers. “Betty?” He rubs a shaky hand along her trembling back and pulls her body into him. “Betty… Baby everything is going to be OK.”

Her head shakes back and forth against his chest and she begins to cry once more. “N-n-no its n-not.” Betty’s just barely able to choke out the words. “This wasn’t s-supposed t-t-t-to happen. N-not this w-way. Not r-right now.”

Jughead holds her against him, attempting to calm her woes by rubbing soft circles into her back. He leans down and presses his lips to her forehead. “Betts please stop crying. Maybe it’s a false positive. That’s likely, right?”

Betty sniffles and looks up at him. Her blue green eyes are bright and shiny, her cheeks are red and her lips are puffy and tender. In some sadistic way Jughead tells himself she’s never looked more beautiful. “I g-guess so.” She mumbles. She places a kiss along the edge of his chin and sighs, letting herself melt into his body. “What are we going to do?”

Jughead throws the blanket off of them and jumps to his feet. “It is…” he glances at Betty’s clock on her nightstand. “…wow already 10 in the morning. Time travels fast when you’re freaking out.” Betty’s lip begins to quiver once more. “We are going to eat lots of Captain Crunch, stay in our pajamas all day, and watch lots and lots of movies.”

“I have to work this afternoon.” Betty cries, grabbing the blankets and throwing them back over her, shielding herself from the outside world.

Jughead forces the blanket off of Betty. “Call in sick. Which, you technically are.” Betty chews on her lip for a moment, finally nodding and deciding that was probably the best idea. She is no condition to go to work today.

“OK.” She shuffles out of bed and grabs her bathrobe from the hook hanging on her door. “I’m going to go take a bubble bath. Maybe that’ll help calm me down.”

Jughead follows Betty out of her bedroom and kisses her lips softly before she disappears into the bathroom. He decides to ignore the fact that Betty still hasn’t mentioned the ‘I love you’ he had confessed earlier that morning. He wasn’t sure whether her ignorance on the subject was a good or bad sign.

꙰

Betty pulls up the ‘Down in the Dumps’ playlist on Spotify and slithers into the steaming water of the bathtub. The water is scalding on her skin, but Betty enjoys the sting, finding it surprisingly welcoming. She places a rolled up towel beneath her neck and closes her eyes, letting the music drown out the static in her brain.

She curses herself for being so unprepared and irresponsible. She should have gotten on the pill sooner or they should have used a condom. How could she have been so stupid? She should have warned Jughead that they weren’t being safe, instead of allowing herself to swept up in the moment. She knew the pull-out method was not an effective form of birth control. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

In an effort to keep the tears at bay Betty opens up her eyes and examines her body beneath the water. Most of the bubbles have evaporated and the water is clear. She looks to her stomach and her breasts, imagining them swollen and expanded. Her body was the least of her worries, but it was still a worry nonetheless.

She remembers when her oldest sister Polly had given birth to twins back in high school. Suddenly Betty feels an obsessive need to talk to her, to tell her how sorry she is that she had to go through her pregnancy all alone, unable to confide in Betty about her problems because their parents were a special breed of crazy.

Betty reaches for her phone sitting on the floor beside the tub and pauses the current song. With quick fingers she dials Polly’s number and counts the amount of rings it takes until she answers. When she does she can hear the twins laughing and giggling in the background and strangely Betty finds herself missing the little town she grew up in.

“Hi Betty!” Polly’s cheery voice sings over the line.

“Hey Polly,” Betty’s voice cracks and she already regrets calling her sister. She doesn’t need to burden her with her own problems. Plus she wasn’t ready for this news to travel back to their mother in any way. Yet somehow Alice Cooper always found a way to figure out everything. It was like she was part of an underground network or something, it was creepy.

“Betty, is everything alright? Are you crying?”

Betty sits up in the tub and water splashes over the side. “It’s nothing Poll. I shouldn’t have called you.” Her thumb hovers over the little red cancel button but Betty resists pressing it.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing, come on, you know you can tell me anything.” It frightens Betty how well her sister knows her. “Is this about Jughead?”

Betty clears her throat and answers. “No – I mean – yes. Sort of. I don’t know.”

“You are aware of the fact that nothing you’re saying is making sense right now?” Polly asks with concern in her voice. Betty had always been the sensible one in the family.

“Polly, I-I don’t know what to do.” Betty mumbles into the phone. Her lips quiver and she urges herself not to cry.  She already has a headache, she doesn’t need to aggravate it any more than she already has.

“Just tell me what’s going on Betty. You called for a reason. And you know me. I am the no judgement sister. Anything you say to me stays between you and I.” Betty hears her nephew JJ in the background, asking if Polly will let them watch cartoons. From what she can only assume her sister agrees and walks out of the room and out of earshot of the children.

“Everything OK out there in Riverdale?” Betty asks.

“Just peachy. Can you believe the twins are going to be seven soon?” Betty can hear the smile in Polly’s voice and Betty can’t help but smile too. She misses her family so much.

”No I can’t. Time sure does go by a lot faster now than when we were their age. Back then time seemed infinite.”

“Nothing’s infinite Betty, you know that. Just wait until you have kids and the time will fly by even faster than it is now. I promise you that.” Betty’s heart beats frantically in her chest at Polly’s words. She had no idea. “Now please tell me what’s bothering you. You know how I get when I worry.”

Betty chuckles. “You sound like such a mom.” Betty takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in her throat. “Speaking of moms…I’m going to be one. I’m pregnant.”

The line goes silent and Betty worries that the call may have dropped. She removes the phone from her ear and checks to make sure Polly’s still on the line. She closes her eyes in relief when she sees the call is still there.

“Oh my – Betty are you sure?”

Betty lifts her knees to her chest and rests her chin on her left knee. “I mean, I’m fairly certain. I haven’t been keeping track of the calendar but I’m over a week late. And I was nauseous this morning. Although we did have drinks last night, but not enough to make me sick. Which now I’m also beginning to worry about - what if I hurt the baby, drinking last night because I didn’t know?” With her free hand Betty digs her nails into the flesh of her palms. An old habit she’d had when she was younger that she’d kicked so many years ago.

“Betty Betty Betty. Slow down. Everything is going to be OK. Make an appointment with your doctor. Get checked up. They’ll tell you everything you need to know. There’s no reason to worry now. You’re main focus should be making sure that you’re healthy.” Polly pauses and Betty’s makes a mental note to call her doctor.

“Both you and Jughead both keep saying everything is going to be OK. How do you know that?” Betty cries into the phone, clutching it harder than necessary as she holds it up to her ear.

“Because I’m a mom, I know things. And don’t shut Jughead out right now. I can guarantee he’s as freaked out as you are. Go talk to him. Figure things out.” On the other end Betty hears the sound of glass shattering. ”Damn it not again. I’m sorry Betty I have to go. Call me if you need me. Keep me updated. And I promise not to say anything about this to mom.”

Betty thanks her sister and wishes her a goodbye. Once the line is dead she places her phone on the lid of the toilet and pulls the plug in the tub. The water disappears around her, leaving her feeling cold and empty. Goosebumps litter her skin as she stands up and dries off with the towel from the rack, before placing her bathrobe around her and exiting the bathroom, in search of Jughead.

She finds him back in the kitchen with a new bowl of cereal in front of him, chomping down rather sullenly. He looks up when she enters the room and lends her a soft smile. “Feeling any better?”

Betty stands on her tiptoes to grab a bowl from the cupboards and a spoon from the drawer beside the fridge. At the sight of the cereal her stomach lurches, suddenly ravenous. “I called Polly.”

Jughead nods and continues to chew. “Good to know. I thought maybe you were talking to yourself in there. I was a little worried for a moment, thinking you were going crazy.”

Betty shoves his shoulder playfully and settles into the chair beside him. She creates a mountain of cereal in her bowl and floods it with milk, taking a bite of the sweet, crunchy cereal. “Ha ha.” She says between bites. “You’d still love me even if I were crazy right?”

She hasn’t forgotten about what he said to her, she’d just been too busy obsessing over the pregnancy test to really make any note of it.

Jughead places his spoon in the bowl and scoots his chair to the side so that he’s facing her. He grabs her by the face, regardless of the fact she’s still chewing and kisses her lips soundly. “If you’re crazy Betty Cooper, then I’m fucking insane.” He says, staring her dead in the eyes.

Betty is quick to swallow the cereal in her mouth and mirrors Jughead’s actions. She holds his face between her hands and squishes his cheeks, just the way he was doing to her. “How are you not freaking out more right now?” She asks him, kissing him chastely.

“Because I love you, and I know that as long as we’re together everything will be alright.” He responds, leaning forward to kiss the tip of her nose.

Betty closes her eyes at the touch of his lips, and when she opens them she forgets to breathe. Forehead to forehead they sit there, gazing into each other’s eyes as they hold each other’s faces in place. Jughead’s eyes are a brilliant swirl of blue and Betty swears she could look into them forever and never get bored.  A thought crosses her mind where she hopes the baby has his eyes. She realizes there no one else she’d rather be caught up in this mess with except for him.

Betty kisses Jughead one more time, deeper than before and pulls away, hungry for her cereal. “By the way Jughead,” She says with a mouth full of Captain Crunch. “I love you too.”

[jebwtf]

ShowTime|| Selfie

The Bowery Ballroom: 10AM Friday October 20th

Jeb made his way down the sidewalk, Isaac’s bleach blonde hair letting him know he was right on time. “Hey, hey, kid!” Johnny bounded up to him, enveloping the younger male in a hug, welcoming him into the circle they formed while waiting for the doors to unlock. “Where’s Mark at?” He asked, looking around for their lowly manager and his coffee clad hands. “Talking to the big heads over at Island. He sounded kinda pissed when he called, but that’s probably ‘cause they didn’t get us the keys and now we’re waiting instead of setting up.” Isaac rolled his eyes, Jeb just giving a nod. His heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and they weren’t even in the doors yet.

His mom was going to be there. His dad, his brother, his friends, his band, the record execs that want to see what they’re made of, people that were already bitching about the fact ‘those guys from that out of control band’ managed to book one of the best. But the only thought going through his head was still everything he could fuck up. Going flat on a note, breaking a string mid song, choking. “Hey,” He was snapped out of his trance by Jamie, who was giving him a pat on a back and offering his always bright smile. “We’re gonna kick ass yeah?” Jeb just laughed and nodded, and then the doors were clanging open and the next thing he knew they were hauling their stuff in. “Alright!” The boys looked over to the voice, a tall man with a large beer belly and a jolly smile coming towards them. “I’m Dylan, I’ll be your front of house sound guy, and I’m also in charge of the sound crew.” They went around and introduced themselves, the man’s positive energy putting Jeb a little more at ease, but they had a long ways to go and this was just a momentary lapse of his nerves. “I hear it’s your guys’ first big show, you excited?” He asked, giving Jeb a pat on the arm, obviously seeing that he was the one with the most nerves. “Don’t be, you’re gonna be fine. I’ve heard your song on the radio and actually went out and bought your CD. You’re gonna kick ass. Right now I’d just like you guys to get your instruments, warm up a little, and we’ll get the amps and sound booth set up, okay?” The boys nodded, Jeb letting out a shaky breath as Johnny wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him towards their stuff. “Just relax. It’s like any other show just… More people.” Jeb snorted and nodded, giving the older male a pat on the back. “Yeah.. I know. That’s what makes me nervous… What if, like, I fuck up, and it’s in front of all those people and the people that want to sign us and--” Isaac cut him off. “Jeb, it’ll be fine. We’ve fucked up and recovered before, and if for whatever reason this is one of the last shows we play then, at least we go out swinging.” The younger of the group was close to tears, but he just bit his tongue, and went off to practice.

3:00 PM Friday October 20th

“Kaaaaai!” Jeb cheered, setting down his guitar and jumping off the stage, running to his brother who was running to him, wrapping his arms around his baby brother and swinging him around. “Are you excited?!” He asked, laughing as he did so. Jeb laughed and nodded. “I’m so scared, but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“Good, and here, I’ve got a surprise for ya.” He whistled, motioning for the others to come follow him, leading them all to the backstage area where Lydia, Addie, and August were waiting, holding up a large banner with the band's name across it. “I figured if you aren’t yelling it, you aren’t selling it.” All their jaws dropped, laughing and going up to examine it. “Kai, Kai this is…” Jeb laughed, giving his brother another hug, holding on tight. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, you just worry about playing your music, we’ve got the rest covered.” Jeb finally let go, wiping at his face to keep from getting completely misty eyed, Kai getting August and another rigger to help him set it up. They went and checked out the shirts and the CD’s, Jeb and Addie exchanging kisses and laughing as they made fun of each other and ragged on Lydia for her lack of self control when it came to flirting with Isaac. For a little bit, Jeb’s nerves were completely at ease. He was just with his friends, his family, setting up for an ordinary show like they do any other day.

And then Mark showed up.

“Alright alright, I know we are all excited by the new artwork and clothing but we need to get a soundcheck going. You ladies care to watch?” He asked, eyeing Jeb as he sipped his coffee. “What’d the guys at the label say?”

“We’ll talk about that later. Soundcheck, now, go.” Jeb rolled his eyes, but they all did as they were told, Mark escorting Lydia and Addie into concert hall, hanging back with them while the boys got set up. “What song are we doing?” Jamie asked, plugging his guitar in and strumming a few chords, Jeb just giving a shrug as they all looked at Isaac, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. “Why am I always picking?”

“Because you’re the leader of the band!” Jeb laughed, earning a drumstick to the face. From the back Mark was just shaking his head, but he wasn’t annoyed. Not even a little. At this point he was used to these antics, but he knew something the boys didn’t and he was more at ease. They were hard workers. They deserved some fun. “You two want to hear a story, about your friend Jeb?” He asked, taking a sip from his coffee, eyes still on the boys who were bickering about what to play, now waiting for the sound guys to get their mixing right. “What kind of story?” Addie asked, looking the older man over. She wasn’t sure of him, but it was someone involved with Jeb so he couldn’t have been too bad. “A drunk story.” Lydia tossed her head back and laughed. “I for one want to hear.” Mark smirked, setting his cup down and leaning back in the chair, letting his hands rest on his stomach. 

“So, back when I first met the boys and was in the process of signing them on with my management team, they were all party monsters. Jeb was…. Nineteen? Eighteen? He was young. It was his first year here and I get a call from Isaac, saying they went a little too hard at some house party and needed a ride home. No problem. Well, I get there, and I’m looking around the house and it’s a disaster. Like a total shit show people are falling over each other, the smell of sour beer is just… It was bad. But I get there and I find Isaac, Jamie, Johnny, and Jeb down in the basement, and I’m trying to wrangle them, which was the first time I learned managing them is like herding cats into a bathtub, it’s damn near impossible. But, so, I manage to get Isaac and Jamie, and we’re in the process of getting the other two when someone comes downstairs and says something about the police. I’m old and deaf and don’t quite make it out, but in some… Momentary brain lapse, Jeb puts together the sentence; fuck da police.” Lydia let out another laugh, Mark just shaking his head and taking another drink. “Fuck the police?” Addie repeated.

“No. Fuck. Da. Police.” He corrected, shaking his head a bit. “And the reason someone came down and was talking about the police is because the police were there. Coming down the stairs. And Jeb, being the charismatic person he is, managed to get everyone to join in. So there’s about... Fifty drunk as fuck twenty somethings, yelling fuck da police at this police officer. And that tall thing, right there,” He pointed at August who was helping Kai get the barrier set up. “Grabs a forty, smashes it on the ground and yells ‘scatter’. And the next thing I know, I’m being pulled out the back door by the boys, having to run through bushes, and we finally make it safely to my car. Where Jeb went, I still don’t know, but I do know that was the defining moment for these boys.” Lydia was almost in tears with how hard she was laughing, and Addie was stunned but mainly by the fact that he told that whole story with a completely calm and straight face. “Hey! Enough, just pick a song and play.” Mark finally called, earning the middle finger from all the boys. He just took in a deep breath, probably repeating some mantra in his head to stay calm, throwing his hands up when they finally started playing.

“Okay, check check, check.” Jeb spoke into the mic, waiting until he got the thumbs up from the sound guy. Then he just waited for Isaac who counted them in and they started to play. The sound bouncing off the empty walls of the concert hall and Jeb was so taken with imagining how it was going to be tonight he almost forgot his cue.

“Yeah here we go for the hundredth time, hand grenade pins in every line, throw ‘em up and let somethin’ shine, goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind.”

Mark watched his boys play. His adopted sons even though most of them weren’t that much younger than himself. The sounds of their guitars and drums putting a soft grin on his face. He watched the looks on the faces of them all as they were caught with the moment and enjoying themselves and every doubt he’d ever had about them left his mind. He couldn’t wait to see what they did with an actual crowd.

7:00 PM-- Doors Open in thirty minutes.

“There are people lined up around the block!” Johnny came back, hands on his head as he laughed, completely blown away at the idea people were actually waiting to see them. The boys were mixed with nerves and excitement, the doors finally opening and the people flooding in. Jeb peaked out from the curtain, his stomach starting to do flips. “Don’t do that.” Mark spoke. He hadn’t even looked up from his phone, but he didn’t have to. He knew the kid and knew what he was doing. Jeb just turned, the worry written all over his face. “Do you… Do you think--”

“I know you’ll do fine. I know I’m not the most…. Touchy feely towards you boys, but I have never had more faith in a band than I do in you. All of you.” He motioned around to the others who just nodded. “You’re going to do great. And all those kids out there? All those people? They’re here for you. And what you guys have done with your music.” Jeb nodded and looked over at his bandmates, his friends, the people that put up with him when they didn’t have to. 

And he knew he was ready for this.

8:00 PM-- Show time

The crowd was going wild by the time the lights dimmed. He almost couldn’t control his shaking hands, but it was too late to turn back now. The team huddled and said a small prayer before they walked out and took their spots on stage. Isaac hit his snare and then it all went loose. It was nothing but raw energy and music, the sound of the guitars and bass feeling like it was replacing his own blood stream, and it was official; Jeb DuBois had lost it. He was commanding the stage, telling the crowd to sing louder, jump harder, throwing everything he had into his songs his bands songs. The energy from the kids and people in the audience just fed into him more and more and more and he could see the release. It was as much therapy for him as it was for them. He saw the crying as they sang Believer and Cigarettes and Saints. How everyone just vibed and felt alive through You Look Good, and how Lydia looked at him when she saw him up on that stage next to her, and how even then she flirted with Isaac and amped him up. He watched the kids fall down and pick each other up and for the first time he realized that music didn’t just save him, but the things he wrote, the things they all created had saved other people as well.

He stepped back a moment, looking around at all the people singing back to him. His body jittering as they screamed back the words I’m not coming back, I’ve done something so terrible I’m terrified to speak but you’d expect that from me, and he finished out the song with tears streaming down his face, letting the guitar ring out as he backed off again, his chest heaving up and down as he gasped for air, the kids finishing off the end of the song with the words I guess I’ll go home. 

He never felt as home anywhere as much as he did up on that stage.

He took the moment to go to his knees and just let it all out, holding his face in his hands, using his shirt to wipe the sweat and tears from his face. “Hey! Hey you good?” Jamie was next to him, a smile on his face and his own misty eyes. Jeb just nodded, looking back out at the crowd one more time. The boys had been doing most of the talking that night, but he found he had something to say, composing himself and going back to the mic. It was their last song and he just wanted to end it right. 

“Y’know, this… This is a lot.” He laughed, letting the crowd cheer. “We’ve been doing this for awhile now and things are finally happening and to hear someone sing back to you the songs that mean so much to you and to know that they mean something to others it’s… It’s magical. And… And I know from talking to some of you that you relate to us and you feel the struggle and I just need you all to know that perfection is an ideal but this shit here tonight? This is pretty fucking perfect to me!” He heard Isaac banging on his drums and looked over at his friends, at his brother and Addie and August and his parents here were watching from the side of the stage. “And before I shut up and let y’all lose it, I’m gonna promise y’all somethin’, we got into this, because we wanted to make an impact. We wanted to create something that everyone could relate to and one thing you’ll notice when you come to our shows is that all of you are welcome here. Regardless of where you come from or what you do our music is for us and you and when you walk through those doors, whatever it is that hurts you, that you can’t handle, that shit gets left at the sidewalk, you’re safe here. And as we end tonight, uncertain of whether or not we’ll get a weekend like this again, I want all of you to know, that I don’t know how the boys feel, but I know that if I’m to die tonight, if I’m to walk off this stage and that’s it, I want you to know that I would have died with my happy ending. I’m surrounded by my friends and family and my dream is happening right before my fucking eyes.” He took in a breath, not realizing that he hadn’t properly breathed in a moment, but that was fine because everyone was cheering and the boys were going with it.  “And I’m gonna promise you something else, you’ll all get your happy ending too. You just hang in there.” He stepped back, listening to the cheers of the crowd, his heart aching as he saw some of the kids it hit hard cry and fall against each other for comfort, he looked over at his parents and down at his brother who had nothing but pride on their faces. And then the music kicked back in, and they closed out with their last song.

The crowd screamed back the chorus This ain’t a scene it’s a goddamn arms race at him, being egged on by the sheer angst and anger written on the faces of him Jamie and Johnny, fueled by the crack and beat from Isaac’s drums, and then it was over, the boys shredding up the best they could and giving the crowd their money’s worth. As it ended, he took one last look at the crowd, his chest swelling with nothing but pure joy, looking over as Isaac’s arm wrapped around him, and then Jamie, and then Johnny, and then they all took a final bow and walked off stage to Mark who, for the first time all day, they saw with nothing but a smile on his face, walking up and wrapping the boys in a group hug. “You guys… You fucking killed it. I could not be more proud of you. How do you feel?”

Jeb was straight up breathless, leaning back as they handed him a towel to wipe his face, wrapping an arm around Addie as she came bounding up to him, giving her a kiss. “Okay, okay, enough of that.” he rolled his eyes and looked at Mark, then over at Isaac who was wrapping a bandana around Lydia’s wrist, both him and Addie shaking their heads at her shamelessness. “You boys go and greet your fans. I think they deserve that.” They all looked at each other, beaming smiles on their faces as they all walked outside, being greeted by hundreds of people who wanted to talk to them. A couple told Jeb how it meant a lot to them that he spoke out about music being inviting, they were told how much the lyrics meant, and how sometimes it was just something to put on and make them forget for awhile. They took photos and selfies and stole phones and took snapchat photos, eventually giving them back when Mark came out and shut that shit down. They met as many people as they could, Lydia and Addie busy with the merch stand.

The boys went back and helped pack up their shit.

Saturday came and went and it was even bigger and better. Add five hundred plus more people and you get even more energy and off the wall performances from the boys. Every crowd every face burned into Jebs memory from up on the stage. The way everyone sang back to them, the way it felt, the pure, unfiltered energy that came from the crowd. It was shocking and breathtaking and there wasn’t a part of him that regretted a single moment. He’d sent Addie and Lydia home once the show was over and everything was packed up. His parents were staying at Hotel in Brooklyn so they left, and then it was just the boys, the crew, Mark and the record execs came rolling up as they sat around and munched down on food and washed it down with cheap beer. “That was some show.” The boys smiled at each other, shuffling their stuff around to make room on the floor. Mark had that sly look on his face, Jeb was unsure of it, but the man had never steered them wrong. The two other men sat with them, and they talked about music and how it felt to sing to that many people. How their road to success was anything but smooth, they talked about their earlier shows and records and getting clean and staying clean and then they started talking about touring.

“We went over some things with Mark, and if you boys would be inclined, we would love to sign you to our label. You’ve had time to think about it, and we know you’ve been busy, but we really feel we have a lot to offer you.” Jeb’s blood ran cold. He looked to Johnny and Jamie, then at Isaac to see if they were all thinking the same thing as him and judging by their faces they were. “Are you… Are you fucking with us?” Isaac finally asked. It was his band. He started it all and he got them all together, he had ever right to be suspicious. Mark just laughed and reached out to pat his knee. “We’ve been in talks. I was just as nervous as you guys but I trust them. You guys read over the contracts right?” He asked, the boys nodding, Jamie looking around. “I honestly thought you were just getting our hopes…” Jeb laughed and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. The man from FBR just laughed and shrugged. “We know we’ve been sort of quick with the decision, but Mark was telling us Reprise and Atlantic were looking at you for awhile and we wanted to make an offer before you made a decision.”

Then all eyes were on Isaac. They were all in the band, but Sunrise was his baby. “If the boys are in then I’m all in.” Another beat of silence then Johnny spoke. “I’m going where Isaac goes.”

“And I’m with Johnny and Isaac.” Jamie smiled at his friends then all eyes were on Jeb, who was still in shock they were actually being offered a serious contract and he finally just smiled and nodded. “I’m with my boys. I’m all in.” Mark clapped, beaming at the kids that he’d watched grow up as people and a band. “Well alright! We will leave you all to celebrate and then we’ll set up a meeting with Mark to get all of you to our office and get you signed, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds great!” They all chimed in, Jeb had wrapped his arms around Isaac, sobbing a little, Isaac crying a little on his own. “Hey, we did it, we’ve made it. It’s not over yet but we’re getting there.” They were all drained and sweaty and in need of a shower but it was almost five in the morning when Jeb got home and he just needed to sleep. So he dropped his stuff and flopped onto the couch, almost asleep but not before sending out a text to all of his friends and Addie.

“Guess who just got signed?”

And he fell asleep, for once not terrified of the future.

@FBRRecords: Some families you’re born into, some you choose, we’d like you all to welcome @SunriseAndSkylines to the family.