#it took me an HOUR to escape from prison lmfao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rymndsmth · 4 years ago

Text

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy!

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling.

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive.

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend.

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about.

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed.

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung and his girlfriend).

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller.

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores.

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place.

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion.

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned.

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea.

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot.

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing.

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition.

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later.

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood.

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived.

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history.

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide.

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen.

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter.

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons.

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag.

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush.

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it.

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest.

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all.

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued.

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though.

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips.

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush.

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her?

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him.

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors.

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table.

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you.

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down.

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished.

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his.

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow.

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did.

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin.

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers.

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes.

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.

#*throws this and runs to take my dog for a walk*#jang han seo #vincenzo #fics.n

43 notes · View notes

trickstercaptain-archive · 7 years ago

Text

modern verse outline.

this is ridiculously long so I’m sticking it all under a cut, but here is my official outline for Jack’s modern verse! it only took me three years to write lmfao, although I have had the majority of this planned out for a long time, it’s just taken me until now to organise all of my thoughts coherently and actually write them out. and this will also be linked to under my modern verse on my verses page :’))

trigger warnings apply for child abuse/neglect, violence, drugs, human trafficking, alcohol -- you know, the usual when it comes to this man.

Born of a former trainee nurse and one of the most prolific crime bosses in the country, the first seven years of the young Jack Sparrow’s life were anything but ordinary. Homeschooled, his mother attempted to create as stable an environment as possible for their small family, but Edward Teague’s criminal enterprise was only growing in influence, and the birth of a child soon became an irreparable fissure in the two parents’ relationship. This tension, along with the increased arguments and danger Teague was putting his family in, came to a head seven years later, during a car chase that would end with Maria dying of a gunshot wound in the backseat, her head resting in her son’s lap.

Everything changed after that. Swearing off crime, Teague relocated with Jack, turning him over briefly to his own mother until he realised, with the help of a sober mind, the extent of the torment he’d subjected his son to at her hands. Eventually, the two were reunited in a home of their own, where Jack would stay for the remainder of his childhood and adolescence, and slowly come to loathe. School took adjustment of its own but, in spite of the bullies and, as he grew older, his habit of letting his sharp tongue get him into trouble, he at least thrived in his academic pursuits.

Personally, however, was another matter. When he was nine, Teague left the home one night with the intent of going out drinking, and Jack heard nothing more from him until he returned three days later, nursing a headache and having left his son to fend for himself in the interim. From that point onwards, Jack would depend only on himself; he taught himself to cook, would spend hours cooped up in his own room studying, or reading, or teaching himself to play the guitar, and was intent on making success enough of himself to finally leave the family home as soon as he was able. Acing his GCSEs without too much difficulty, he opted for A level History, English Literature and Spanish and, with the support of his teachers, aspired to university study -- but that ambition, too, ended up derailed.*

Little did Jack know that his father had gone back into crime, this time keeping it very much under the radar. The truth only came out after a hostage attempt; shortly after turning fifteen, Jack was minding his own business before being kidnapped by a group of thugs intent on using him as leverage against his father. With Teague’s help, Jack escaped with only a few cuts and bruises, but the betrayal left its own mark and quickly pushed him into the company of another in his final few years of school. Christophe was also a man ensconced in crime, but of a far more tempting variety: it was he who first introduced Jack to petty theft ( along with a variety of other vices, including alcohol and drugs ), grooming him in his own image only to threaten to discard him later on.

A heist aimed at damaging another crime syndicate: the one run by Teague himself. When Jack discovered the identity of their mark, he tried to pull out, but by then it was already too late. He was offered an ultimatum by Christophe: pledge complete loyalty to his gang, or be set up and thrown to the wolves, painted as the instigator in a plot to betray his own family. With little choice in the matter, Jack went with them, leaving school several months early and forced to work for a man who had thrown his trust and affection back in his face.

He then kept his head low for several weeks, looking for an opportunity to get his revenge. Compiling as much evidence of their illegal activities as he could, he arranged a set up of his own, inviting police to the crime scene and offering his own testimony to ensure they were sent down. With Christophe’s blackmail of him come to light, Jack is spared prison, but he’s still ordered community service and the whole experience makes him vow to clean up his act completely.

Knowing that academic study was no longer in his future, and too ashamed to remain in his familial home, Jack moved into a modest flat with his longtime friend and mentor, Joshamee Gibbs. In the next seven years he took up a number of jobs to break even and make a living, from bartending to serving as a lifeguard at a public swimming pool and working at the local dockyard. In this time, he turned his life around, largely kicked any unpleasant habits from his youth ( except his one true vice: alcohol ), and even had time for a first love, a budding actress on holiday in London, and who he would remain in contact with when she returned to New York.

But nothing good ever lasted in his life, and during his work at the London Docklands was when he got involved in an enterprise that nearly cost him his life. On paper, it had seemed ideal: managing the shipping of cargo into London, a job with a reputable employer and the prospect of advancement beyond the menial employment he’d been able to find thus far. But it had a sinister underbelly. Scarcely a year into his newfound partnership with its head of operations, Jack discovered that the distribution of materials and products was merely a veneer to disguise the true heart of the business: human trafficking. Appalled, he set about trying to expose the organisation for what it was, dismantling some of the trafficking rings and succeeded in weeding out a few of its members, as well as casting media scrutiny and doubt on the organisation.

In the meantime, a ghost from his past was rearing its ugly head again. Five years behind bars and Christophe-Julien de Rapièr was free once more, and out for vengeance on the man who put him there in the first place. His path to Jack culminated in one dramatic final showdown. The Frenchman wasn’t pushed, but he did lose his footing as he made one last push to murder his quarry -- and for the first time Jack Sparrow knew what it was to have someone’s blood on his hands.

Meanwhile, his employer had begun to discover Jack’s apparent betrayal of the company, and utilised its unscrupulous connections to rid itself of its newest problem. A planned arson attack on Jack’s block of flats. He managed to save the lives of a few as the building went up in smoke ( fortunately Joshamee wasn’t home at the time ), but ended up injured and passed out before the firefighters arrived and found him. When he woke, he was in a hospital bed with scarring on his arm from being burned and the effects of smoke inhalation, and knew even before he was visited by his best friend that London was no longer safe for him. It might have been reported in the press as an accidental fire, but Jack knew who was responsible, and knew that if word got out that he’d survived they’d no doubt try again.

He was resolved to leave the country,** and as soon as he was well he headed for Dover and crossed the English Channel to France. For the next few years, he backpacked across Europe, his new goal being that of seeing the world and experiencing it. Sometimes he stayed in the local hostels, other times he’d earned enough money from both honest -- and dishonest -- employment to stay in a hotel, but he lived out of a mere suitcase, never staying in one place for too long.

After the Champs Elysees and the Colosseum, the French Riviera and the Canary Islands, experiencing yachting and wine drinking and everything in between, Jack moved on to the Far East, residing in Singapore. It was there that he was exposed to a culture very different to his own and fell in love with it. He remained for two years before finally resolving to move on ( only after upsetting the wrong sorts of people ), and made for the next place on his bucket list: the Caribbean.

He stayed in Kingston, Jamaica for a while before the longing for home began, realising just how long he’d been away from London. Now in his thirties, he returned to the city that had been the source of so many conflicted feelings, very much changed from the man who had earlier left it in such a hurry. He moved back in with Joshamee and settled back into an ordinary life, but the need for excitement and danger in his life led him back down an avenue that he’d narrowly avoided ten years prior: con artistry. This time, the crime was on his terms, targeting those most corrupt and susceptible to his schemes, while avoiding the innocent and anything as morally reprehensible as what prompted him to leave the city in the first place. After a few years, Jack had made a name for himself in criminal circles independent of Teague, and with the help of his best friend was making a reasonable profit for his time, too.

The default for this verse is after this point, where Jack is in his late thirties and living in Soho, London, having already travelled and experienced a lot of the world and already enjoying success as a con artist in the city. There are also rumblings from members of the same organisation that Jack escaped and nearly dismantled thirteen years prior; when he’s not gaining valuable contacts in the city by targeting specific individuals' reputations and purses to damage, he’s preparing to take down his former employer once and for all.

extra notes: *in two alternative modern verses, Jack never meets Christophe and is accepted into university, studying to become a university professor and lawyer respectively. **in an alternate arc, Jack moves to New York and in with Esmeralda, giving up crime completely.

#ooc #v; make sure you can walk away in a second #;plays things closer to the vest now ( headcanon. )#;not all treasure is silver and gold ( save tag. )#this is the only au that I should need to write 1300 words on lmfao jfc #but this is mainly for my own reference tbh since so much plotting has gone on with me and ace that I need to keep track of it

10 notes · View notes

mywritinginone-blog · 7 years ago

Text

How Can I be Like Danny Mendez

“No… Im busy right now were in the middle of a tournament, but ill messg u later..”

“okay good luck Jamie, don’t fuck up.” Felix responded.

“yeah I hope not”

“Uh maybe when the tournament is done, we can go for a night drive?” I said. “Lmfao.. only if I can drive.”

“Yeah, like I’m asking for my insurance to go up.”

“Don’t act like your daddy cant afford it” I had the biggest eye roll ever.

“Ok so tonight, you’re not gonna bail on me this time?”

“Well I’m not doing anything with you Jamie, I mean it.”

“We’ll see.” Cheers from the audience roars, as our robots stands in battle with Upper Canada College. With every claw clenched onto UCC, its steel barriers started tearing down onto the battle floor. My toes began soaking my socks as I start to sweat profusely, with only 30 seconds left on the clock. Our robot stands ground with both claws raised in the air, it dug its claw onto UCC, and ripped out its functioning wires. Roars from the angst audience fumed the steel stadium as me and my team screamed on top of our lungs, we were victorious with the entire audience cheering for us. Joy ran through all of us as we cluttered in a cluster hugging each other, until my phone went off, another snapchat notification from Felix. I quickly put my phone away and began soaking in our victory, while my phone continued ringing.

And that was it, a year of robotic practice every day from 4-9 was gone, gone in victory. My team mates were more than just team mates, as cliché as it is, we became close friends. From hours sitting around a robot, programming, designing and coding it, it was inevitable that we’d be close. All 9 of us saw one another every day for hours, and slowly; we went from knowing each other’s names, to opening up about our life story sitting around some robot. I remember when Danny told everyone about his mom, he talked freely about his mother in prison and his father being deceased, and we all just listened. We coded, designed and programmed while listening for an hour about Danny. I wanted to ask questions like “well who’s taking care of you?” or “how are you so resilient?” But one question that was so dire to me was “how can I be like you Danny Mendez?”

And till this day I hold to my heart the question “How can I be like you Danny Mendez.”

But I knew at that time we weren’t close enough to even ask those personal questions. And soon enough as Danny opens up so did Ashley, than Mohammed, and Alec. Danny being Danny started a trend, but it was only me that didn’t open up, and I knew that’s what the others were thinking. I mean we got to hear about Mohammed’s first time losing his virginity, and Austin’s grandmother having a stroke in front him, but I don’t have anything interesting. Well I rarely get to see my dad because he’s working? But…. Then again Danny doesn’t even have one, so I cant say that. So instead I just stayed quite about my life in general. Things are a lot harder when one, you don’t have anything remotely interesting in your life, and two, and two, you never open up to anyone, literally anyone.

But Danny wasn’t like me; Danny is someone who my mother would love me to be. At first he seemed like the guy who just talked about himself because he wants to, because he needs to, because he’s conceited. But I realized that the reason he did it was because he knew it would start something, he did it for a reason, and he wanted everyone to feel some sense of comfort. H was dead silent whenever someone would open up, not even one word from his mouth ever came out. I watched him, he was genuinely interested in others, and he was considerate with what he was going to say. And soon enough Danny kind’ve became the supporter of the group, always the one making jokes, and always the one cheering us up.

But I couldn’t tell if I wanted to be Danny Mendez, or be with Danny Mendez. From the corner of my eye I saw Danny make his way through the crowd. All of a sudden my palms became even sweatier than before; I quickly dried my hands while thinking of something to say.

“Uh, congrats man you did great.” My voice cracked. “Nice voice crack” Danny chuckles and winks. “Well I mean all I did was design, but while you Jamie, did all the programming, you’re almost like the young Bill Gates but equal on the looks spectrum.” As the stadium begins to clear, numbers of bodies started dying down while it was only me and Danny.

“You guys coming were gonna head out and grab something to eat” Alec said while walking towards the exit. Danny stares at me for assurance. “yeah we’ll catch up with you guys.”

Can you believe that out of the year working together as a group, this was my very first time spending alone time with Danny? I mean there would be times we would go out after practice with other people to eat, but I’d never been alone with him. But with him it’s weird, it feels weird being alone with him and I don’t know why. I get this tingly sensation in my stomach that I have never felt for anyone before. My phone rings and it’s my mom, “hey what time are you going to head home? Are you going to grab something to eat? How’s your tournament?”

“Yeah I might just get something on the way home, and idk probably late, and yeah we won…… finally right?” As I put my phone away a notification pops up again, the phone vibrated so loud that it echoed the dark stadium. As Danny picks the pieces of our robot off the ground his quick wit and remarks made the best of him. “Well aren’t you popular.”

“Yeah yeah, its nothing.” I took a look at my phone and it was Felix. Fuck, I forgot that I was supposed to meet him. But it’s likely he’s going to bail on me again, because it’s Felix. After 9 months of talking to him he’d never wanted to meet up with me, but now? All of a sudden now he does? Fuck, this kid is making me lose my mind. “So are we still up for tonight? 😊” “So what are we going to do now?” Danny looks up and glances at me, the light seeping through the exit door halos around his face, he looked like an angel.

As my phone continues beeping, the vibration becomes more and more insignificant. All I could notice and stare at was Danny’s dark eyes and dark hair, it adds so much mystery to his face, there is something about him that you just want to get to know more off, it’s addicting almost. Once you get a bit of what he has to offer, you cant stop. I quickly closed my phone screen and threw it back in my pocket, and again it rang.

“We can do whatever you wanna do, you name it, I’ll make it happen.” An awkward smile escapes and Danny chuckles. “Well everything is closed at this time, its like 10 on a Sunday.” “Mcdonalds?” I said so seriously. “How romantic… well I’m just going to lay right here until we think of something, I mean I got some joints left in my back pack and half a bottle of coke.”

The light seeping through the exit door in the dark stadium creates such an eerie glow, and there we were, sitting in it, lying down on the cold floors of the stadium where we won. Who knew that after 9 months I’d be laying on the floor with a guy, where we were victorious together. And for hours we just talked and talked our words came out so freely and nothing was being held back at all. I never in my life ever talked to someone so in depth before, where I didn’t have to think about holding back. Danny is someone that I’ve always dreamt of being. I always dreamt of what it would be like if I was outgoing, if I could talk to people so easily, if I could radiate the energy he does. This was the first time where time felt so endless with him, where I didn’t want time to start or end, where I wanted to be frozen in time with him. I had never wanted to be with someone so badly before.

“So what’s going to happen after this Jamie? Where are you going to go?” He said so innocently, while we both stare at the gray roof of the ceiling.

“I’m leaving you duh.”

With a chuckle from me, Danny punches me in the arm, not hard, but not soft either.

“Don’t be an asshole, I’m being serious. And I know you’re gonna miss me, you’re gonna miss me Mr. Killburn.”

And was he ever right, I am going to miss him, a lot. I’m going to miss this moment and everything about Danny. And I’m afraid, because I don’t know what’s going to happen when he leaves. Will it be inevitable and we don’t end up talking? Or will Danny Mendez stay with me?

“Well, I’m heading off to Waterloo for business admin. And what are you doing with your life?” “International development.” He stretches his arms and lies on his side facing me. “Well where?” I stretched out my arms and faced him as well. A strand of his hair fell down the side of his face block his eye, and me being awkward, I moved it behind his ear.

“well… where?” “um, NYU.”

“Oh so you’re really leaving far..”

“yup, really far.”

“Are you going to be sad?” Yeah, yeah I’m going to be fucking miserable as hell, but I had people in my life that came and left. But I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him from going, who am I stop someone? The only thing I could do is smile and accept it. But deep down I want to put him in chains.

“Meh.” I responded. My phone vibrated again, and it was Felix.

“Wow who’s that blowing up your phone?”

“This guy”

“Told you so, told you that you’re popular.” He said

“Yeah well I was kind’ve suppose to meet him but…”

“but you’re here with me? Laying on some cold ground talking to me, while you blew plans with someone?” Danny quickly sits up right and stares down at me like I did something wrong.

“well its not like he hasn’t bailed on me before, he did it almost everytime.” “why?”

“I don’t know… Maybe because I’m ugly?” I said almost jokingly. “Well has he ever been on a date before? Maybe he’s scared?” Danny talked as if he was defending him.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I just wanted it to stop; I didn’t want to talk about this, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Danny is so persistent and persuasive and me? Well, I’m kind’ve a push over.

“What did you want out of it?” “what do you mean” I responded while getting up as well. “I mean what did you want out of talking to him?” “What every other guy like me wants” “like what?” “I don’t know, sex?”

Soon enough it became silent, the free flowing moment we had became hail falling to the ground. I didn’t know how to recover or what to say, I didn’t know if I should talk about him or if I should change the subject. But I knew I didn’t want to upset Danny.

“Well, at first I met him on tinder, and I right off the bat told him I only wanted to hookup, so I don’t know why he kept talking to me, even after nine months.”

“Maybe because he likes you and he wanted more than a hookup?” He responded so sarcastically.

“Yeah.”

“I think that’s why he kept blowing you off whenever you wanted to see him, because he knew you didn’t want to meet up to get to know him, you did it so you can hookup with him….” Danny’s facial expressions became one of anger; it was like he solved some big mystery or crime.

“I haven’t thought of that.” And I haven’t.

“I mean he asked me one time after nine months if I liked him back.”

“And what did you say?” “I said yeah. “

“and do you mean it, do you truly mean it Jamie?”

“I don’t know anymore.” And after 4 hours my phone received another notification, Danny and I stared at each other than the phone, we both thought it was Felix. But It wasn’t, it wasn’t him who messaged me.

0 notes