#it'd be to a nearly four and a half minute song and with what i have in mind it'd take me. a while. so ill think it over

[vaporgrove]

ouououughhhh theres this pmv/animatic idea that i have that i wanna do sooo so bad but theres a part of me thats worried that making it the exact way i want to will cause people to get weird at me due to certain aspects inherent to the idea. but also i dont want to sand those aspects down/cut it out entirely due to it being like. important. in order to contextualize this character's entire deal and behavior

[imeternallylove]

Lost in Aquamarine - S.Holmes

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Location: Alhambra of Granada, Spain. Bath of Somerset, England.

Warning: none

Word: approx: 3,000

main mastetlist | theme song | inspired | request & ask | prompts

Chapters index

Glitches in Alhambra | Alta infidelidad | Labyrinth (you are reading this)

The afternoon, you persuaded an apprehensive reluctant Sherlock to take you around street corners in Alhambra, which is the final location where you might find the ring. You considered it wouldn't hurt to spend some time there while you were at it. If you still couldn't find it, you'd fly home the next day.

It was a four-hour ride, and neither of you talked much of it. There was a sensation of lingering tenseness, unspoken words hanging in the air.

The sky was growing shadows and not just because of the coming darkness. Sherlock glanced up as shades of grey clouds began to gather.

"Looks like rain," he grumbled, his harsh baritone voice heightening to the tension. 

As it turns out, it started to downpour within half an hour. And the pouring rain was torrential and crude as it cut against the car's front windscreen. 

You nevertheless had an hour and a half till you arrived in downtown.

"I think we need to stop somewhere," Sherlock finally stated glancing at you after making every effort not to direct his gaze at you. "It could get dangerous if we keep going."

After fifteen minutes, you got out the highway, following signs for a nearby inn. Sherlock almost drove right past it because the rain was so heavy that it was nearly impossible to see anything clearly.

"Wait here," he said, parking the car. And before you could say anything, he was heading out into the rain and jogging towards the inn. 

You sat there catching at the drops of rainfall splattering onto the glass until he returned, signalling for you to roll the window down.

"They only have one empty room," he sighed, striving to be heard over the rain. You gulped down pondering about what that might mean. You're going to have to share the room.  

"We don't have a choice," you answered.  He nodded and circled the trunk to retrieve the luggage. As the bitterly cold rains poured through the clothing you were wearing, you braced yourself and got out of the car.

You both dripped water all over the floor as you aided Sherlock in carrying the luggage into the inn. You offered an apology awkwardly to the elderly lady at the front desk, but she waived you off and led you to a room.

"Get warm!" she said, smiling as she closed the door, sending the two of you soaked to the bone.

There was only one bed, a tiny desk and chair, and a lamp in the room. Oh, a small kitchen couter. Your cheeks turned flushed as you realised you'd be sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock. And it'd be preferable if you two still having conversations normally, unfortunetly, no.

He cleared his throat, pulling you out from absently mind. "If you don't mind, I'll go use the bathroom first," he stated, throwing off his soaking wet jacket. And you agreed with him.

When you heard the sound of the shower turning on, you unbearably started strolling around the room, feeling impatient. You aren't fond of the way it feels, but you totally harmed it by witnessing his significantly stone-cold behaved, it is painful, but you no longer daring to reverse it backwards and fix it, returning him into himself; not cold carried out. You just can't.

You had 11 missed calls from your parents and multiple messages demanding an explanation for why you'd broken off the engagement. Of course, Joe had told them.

You grabbed up Sherlock's jacket and hung it over the chair to dry it with your absent-mindedly. And your unmindful gone when you saw something silvery and glistening dropped to the floor.

You fastened your sight on it. Because your engagement ring was laying on the surface of the floor.  Looking clean and undamaged. It had certainly slipped from Sherlock's jacket. 

Why?

You knelt to pick it up, your mind churning. How did he get it? Had he has it all along? Or did he find it and not tell you because he wanted to keep it for himself?

The possibility of Sherlock stealing your ring made you sick to the core. You clutched the ring on your tighten fist.

When Sherlock returned from the bathroom a little time later, he showed his naked chest, which if you were in a typical mood would have let you crack a joke related to, but it doesn't. His appearance quenched while you stood there, silent, your face flushed with wrath and disappointment.  

For a couple of a matter of seconds he only looked at you, the confused expression on his face apparent as he struggled to figure out why you were staring at him like that.

And then his focus caught up to his jacket, your clinched hand, and his face sank. "Y/N, I can explain."

You were engaging in everything you could to remain patient.  However a lump started to form in the roof of your thoat, and you could feel tears welling up inside you.

"You know what's hilarious is, if you'd asked, I may have even given you the ring," you stated firmly, wagging your head in disbelief. "I would have given it to you as something to remember me by. But it's clearly you tried to steal it. Why?" Your voice became more quivering.

Sherlock appeared distressed. "I wasn't intending to steal it. I would never do that. Why would I risk my career by trying to steal it? I swear, it's not what it appears to be," he explained as he approached you. The more his bitterness fades, the more distraught you get. "Please, believe me."

"Then why do you have it?" You just replied. To your stupor, he grasped your palm in his own, urging you to open your fist while you fought obstinately not to allow him do so.

"I found it two days ago. On the flight. You'd never even misplaced it. It was the moment you fell asleep. I opened your backpack since the stewardess requested for your passport for some reason. And I saw it. Tucked safely inside a little zippered side pocket. You must have overlooked it during your last search."

Your lips were parted. "Th-then why didn't you tell me?" You begin to cry out not because your wrath is driving you insane, but because he lies right in front of your face. "You should've tell me, Sherlock Holmes!"

"Because I'm an idiot," he blurted frustratedly, his voice raising just like yours. "I had everything figured out. That I wouldn't say anything until we were out of here. That I planned to give it to you on your last day. I-I was afraid that if I gave it to you...you'd leave right away. I didn't want to."

You moved your hands as you placed the ring on the tabletop, trying to understand what he was saying. Dizziness crept in, blending with uncertainty and disbelief. "Why didn't you want me to leave?" You asked in silence.

Sherlock was still clutching your hand. His eyes squeezed as he closed them. "I'm sorry. It was a bad idea. You have every right to report me to the company if you so desire."

"You didn't answer to my question. Why didn't you want me to leave?" You asked a second time, with the heart thumping in your chest. Perhaps, he would reveal what you want to hear through your little hope.

"Because I wanted you to be here with me. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you before you went away. Before I never saw you again." As he keeps going, the hammering inside your chest becomes less distant from exploding. "Because I-I'm an idiot, somehow fell in love with you without realising it," he pointed out, his chest moving upward and downward like he was running an entire marathon.

You were frozen, shut your mouth while Sherlock continues.

Is he saying his feelings for you? For real?

"You know how stupid I am? I always want what I can't have," he declared, his voice wavering. "And now I've ruined everything."

You caught him off guard when you pulled your hand back from his, instead cupping his face with both your hands. As you glanced at him, he became highly still, his aquamarine gaze more nervous.

Then you stroked his cheek with your thumb. "Yes, you are. You are so incredibly stupid," you shook your head while your tiny smile reveal. Hesitate before adding anything more. 

Sherlock watches you back away from his grasp. "But you haven't ruined anything. You said that you always want things you can't have. B-but you can have me if you want." You was dumbfounded that such words had come out of your lips. 

“What?”

"I said you can have me," you blurted more clearly this time. "I need some the fresh air right now. We can talk about it later—"

"Don't go," he said, interjecting. “Stay.”

"Sherlock, I really need to take a shower." 

Nonetheless, he holds your hand to his chest. "Just stay with me, Y/N." And suddenly he was breathing heavily, his forehead pushed to yours, and your thoughts went back to when he was like this with you, under that bridge..

His lips collided with yours again and again. Your body was frosty; your lips as well, yet this man makes it warmly like a miracle. you intertwined your hands in his wet hair, drawing him in closer while he pushes you softly onto the wall. As your body stitching to wall his lips were sending shivers down your back, and you needed more of him, more, more, more.

When you stretched downward to his towel and rid it off his body, your hands landing on his silky chest, he didn't hesitate. Within a few moments, he had a pile of your wet clothes on the floor.

Sherlock drew you up to the table, where your thighs yearning encircled his waist. The elegant tea set shakes, as the plate of snacks and fruits clashes, but neither of you can stop caressing each other.

It's been more ardour-filled since Sherlock's hands seized your thighs as he skillfully covered your unclothed body in an instant by spreading your legs wide, lips attacking lips over and over, and hips grinding. His huge hands leaned on the edge of your highly sensitive, his lips nibbling and sucking, dropping lower and lower, trailing down the valley of your breasts...

Sherlock's lingering palm fondles your breasts to your inner thigh, forcing you to the brink of need. Your eager breath blasting over his ears, your body couldn't itself stop trying to snuggle his.

He then glided you into the bed and lavished kisses on every inch of your flesh he could locate. With his touch, every part of you sprang to alive.

When that moment came, you embraced him close, his breath misting your ear as he whispered your name countless times.  

Later, Sherlock held you against him as you went asleep, the sounds of both your breaths slowing, the blackness sweeping over your consciousness.

After a few hours, you awoke tangled in the covers, a smile spreading across your face as you remembered why. And there was Sherlock, sound asleep and pleasant lying next to you. It's still midnight.

He whimpered as you kissed his cheek, giggling. He drew you into his arms, cuddling you close. "I'm hungry."

"Well, me either," you murmured gently, brushing his curly fringe. When you stopped touching his hair, he made a sound like a cat hissing, and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. "What are we going to eat?" You questioned.

Sherlock's eyes open on one side, his grin widening despite the fact that he is still half asleep. Which is so pretty that it will melt your heart. "What about fish and chips? Seeing your puppy eyes makes me miss my hometown in some ways."

Oh, the whole of your body is literally melting now.

When the late-night dinner arrives, you are sitting on the balcony outside the room. There are a tiny table with small chairs for two, and only your room lights up at this time. Your gaze at the night skyline and Sherlock returns with the smell of fry.

"Well, they said groceries are left for cook only one box only, so you better eat it," Sherlock says as he hands the box of fish and chips to you. He said with a smile, slide down into the chair, chewing a banana; whist you disagree with him.

"Let's have it together," you shook your head, your eyes sending a puppy plea to him. You slice the fish into bite-sized pieces, dip it in sour sauce, and reach for his lips. "Eat," you said, tilting your head as he grinned.

He tries his effort to hide his flushed face as you bite your chips, and you act as if you aren't noticing it. You smirk, and even his ears are unable to conceal it.

And the second time you shared a bed with Sherlock, you both slipped into a deep sleep because of exhaustion. You have your hands on his chin and your face on his chest. Yours and his bodies are most likely intertwined. You know, you couldn't be more happier. 

Right, your happiness… despite this; was too short.  Because you were soon getting back into the car after an excellent breakfast served by the delightful old lady the next morning.

Sherlock sighed and slid into his seat, closing the door behind him. "To the airport," his right hand stiches with yours, he know your mind while driving.

You averted your gaze, swallowing the tears you were sure would fall.

You had no choice but to leave him right now. You had to return home and work things out with your family and Joe. But every bone in your body was battling to keep you stay.

The route to Granada Airport was badly. Sherlock sought to cheer you up by blaring his all-time favourite pop song and sang along loudly and obnoxiously.

However, you were holding back tears. You detested goodbyes more than anything else.

And before you knew it, you were at the international airport. Sherlock drew you close to him, and you gripped him tightly all the way, afraid you'd have to let go. 

"I'll wait for you," he said gently.  "Just as I promised last night. But you have to go. You need to go clean up the mess that ring made." He leaves kisses on your forehead, leaving his warm breath lingering on it.

You nodded, no longer trying to hold back the tears that were pouring down the sides of your face.  "I hate this, Sherlock."

"Shhh, darling." He wiped your tears away with his thumb and kissed the corner of your moist eyes once more. "Hush. It'll only be within a couple of months. Now get going, or you'll miss your flight."

You walked into the airport with one last look back at him, drawing a nervous breath as he waved. You might notice his bright red eyes as well.

Your heart felt like a drum the entire flight home.

Bath's Pulteny Bridge, England.

Sherlock exhaled as he gazed out towards at an Avon river, wondering where the hell you were. You'd instructed him to meet you here since you couldn't pick him up at the airport.

He tapped his foot on the floor, getting impatient. "Where the the hell is she?" He murmured, becoming concerned for the safety of you, searching through his pocket for his phone so he could call you. 

You take a step in, your ears completely deafened by the sound of your heels. The more closely you go near Sherlock, the faster your heart drumming, and it appears he doesn't notice your creature here at all.

"What, you don't like picturesque?" You exclaimed, gazed at his board shoulders and he startled by your voice that comes from behind him, continue playfully, "¿No te gusta este lugar, señor?"

He returned with such speed that he nearly dropped his phone. You don't know the way your expression came out, although one thing you do know is Sherlock was right there in front of you, hands in his pockets, a grin on his face.

"It's not that," he replied with full of widely beamed on his face and you tilting your head, wondering what’s he going to say next. "I've lost my girl." His face is reddish, perhaps the same as yours.

He'd gotten rid of his fringe, but his curly hair had become brown and was hanging over his eyes. Because it was supposed to be a few months that you two needed to separate, but due to life's tricks on you both, it's been a year that you two have only talked through the small screen of the phone. And that sucks.

His marine eyes are so heavenly like before; you'd wish to lost yourself in it like an endless labyrinth and desire to spend time there forever.

He looked so gorgeous in his black suit that it critically wounded your heart.

And then he was wrapping you up in tight embrace, and you breathed him in, his pleasant scent still lingering in your nose, you choking back tears from a year of patiently awaiting and all the things you both tolerated were right in front of your face.

He passionately kissed you, taking all of the air you have. "Hi, again. Miss."

And there was that feel again, the feeling of lost your own self. 

"You should know, I'd like to let you hear this." Sherlock shallowed, his fingers caress your cheeks while brushing off your afluttering hairline in the sunset breeze. You lock your attention on his still on his firm embrace, as if his words are the only language you can understand. "I love you, Y/N."

"Oh, Sherlock," your lightened voice shaking into each part of your spines, you standing on tiptoe and pecking his chin while his both hands lowered on your waist, "I love you too."

You both locking the gaze for awhile with intermittently of a soft giggling. You wish that you two would meant be together last forever. Because, despite the noises of the packed or people going by, the only thing you know is the ocean that was downsizing into those perfect eyeballs, that you always breathless for it, when you were with him.

And you didn't want it any other way except just being lost in his aquamarine irises, eternally.

talky talky: yay end part come out now! 💜🫶🏻 first of all thanks for reading my story ♥️ I put too much effort into it 😆 mostly spending my time on searching about Granada and Alhambra because I never go there, only bath I ever visited 🥺 so if there are some part it wrongly or seems unlikely to the actual place, please kindly tell me and I’ll editing it right away. Most especially thanks to @lady-harvey who always give me encouragement and love on this story, ily, you are the biggest support for this story! ♥️🫶🏻🫶🏻♥️ and I’ll try to make another au of each character I wrote, it’s fun to write haha

alright! every party has to be end and now I need to go~ thanks you all again and if not too much to asked please give love to this, i’d be really really grateful 🥹💜🥹

[cherrycheridarling]

happier | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: swearing and sad. fluff if you squint

summary: you wish tom the best with his new relationship in your new song. {listen to happier by olivia rodrigo (if you want)}

wc: 3.6k

'We broke up a month ago,'

"I've been thinking," your heart sunk at his words, "I'm always working." he grabbed both of your hands.

You locked your gaze in his. Sat in the living room of his shared flat. Inches apart yet you could already feel the separation between the two of you growing.

He avoided your eye contact, "I-I can't be in a relationship unless I can give one hundred percent of myself to the other person. A-and I know I haven't been doing that to you, which is c-completely unfair." he wiped away a tear from your cheek that you didn't know had fell, "You've been so, so good to me. I'm sorry I wasn't better, but I can't keep putting you through this." his voice was barely audible.

You finally tore your eyes away from his face. His tear soaked face. Choosing to stare at a spot over his shoulder instead. You took three deep breaths. In and out. Something about his words made you confused, but your pain overpowered it.

"Please say something. Anything." he whispered against your knuckles. Holding your hands to his lips.

You gently removed your hands from his grip, "Thank you for being mature and honest with me." you started with a sniffle, "Thank you for all of our memories and for showing me what love is," you cupped his face, "Thank you for everything, loser." your light laugh lacked any humour, but it still brought a slight smile to his face.

He held your hand that was resting on his jaw, "I love you more than life itself, darling." he kissed your palm and you felt your heart shatter. "Never hesitate to call, dummy."

You nodded with a sad smile. "I love you, too." You stood up and made your way out of the door. A year and a half down the drain within ten minutes.

'Your friends are mine, you know I know you moved on. Found someone new.'

"Do you guys wanna do something on Saturday? I don't have work. Maybe karaoke?" you asked the group without looking up from your phone.

Harrison made a confused noise, "Did you forget? We have Nadia's birthday par—" you heard a loud smack, "—Ow! What? Oh, shit."

You looked up to see Zendaya, Jacob, Harry, Sam and Tuwaine all glaring at Harrison.

"Absolute div." Tuwaine muttered.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Who's Nadia?" you looked at all of them as they avoided eye contact. "Daya?"

She let out a long sigh before clearing her throat, "Um, Nadia is- Well she's kind of- you know, um—"

"—Tom's new girlfriend." Sam finished for her.

Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you processed the information. His new girlfriend. It'd been a month and four days since he ended your relationship. And he had a new girlfriend.

It took him a month to move on. A month to be able to give a hundred percent of himself to someone.

You couldn't tell if you were more angry or sad. Maybe a mixture of both. Angry that your friends were hiding information from you, but at the same time you understood their intentions. Sad and upset because the boy who told you he wasn't ready to give a hundred percent of himself was already with someone new.

You slowly nodded, "Oh, okay. Well, I hope you guys have fun." you gave a tight lipped smile before looking back at your phone.

Everyone glanced at each other worriedly before allowing their gazes to fall on you again.

"How do you feel?" Jacob asked cautiously.

You locked your phone and set it on your lap, "I'm fine." you faked a smile, "I think I'm gonna head home, though. It's getting late and I have an early studio session. Bye." you quickly grabbed your purse and left with a small wave.

"Y/N! Wait—" the slamming of the front door cut Tuwaine off.

It was three p.m. and you weren't supposed to be in the studio until noon.

'One more girl who brings out the better in you,'

"Y/N/N. You need to talk about it sooner or later." Zendaya reminded you as she sat at the end of your bed with Harrison beside her.

You removed the covers from your face, revealing your tear stained cheeks, "Does she make him happy?"

There was silence from your two friends before they hesitantly nodded. Both weren't completely sure, but they assumed she did.

"Does she bring out the best version of him? Does she stroke his hair while they cuddle? Does she cook with him? Does she walk Tessa with him?"

Harrison sighed, "Y/N/N, we—"

"—Because that's what I did. I brought out the best side of him. I stroked his hair while we cuddled. I cooked with him. I walked Tessa with him. I did it all. Every single thing." your voice broke towards the end as you let the sobs rack through your body.

Harrison and Zendaya went to either side of you and held you. They just held you. Because even they didn't know what to do.

'And I thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past,'

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Zendaya asked as you walked towards Tom's front door.

You nodded and smoothed down your sundress, "Yeah. We ended on good terms. It's been two months or so. We're friends. Plus, I miss hanging out with all of us." you assured her.

She sighed before knocking on the door, "Alright."

A few moments later the door swung open revealing Tom. Dressed in black jeans and a white button-up. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Curls dangling over his forehead. A sweet smile on his lips.

You felt your stomach lurch. Air leaving your lungs involuntarily. Heart rate quickening. You could smell his cologne and every single memory with him clouded your mind.

"Hey! It's great to see you guys—"

"—Sorry. I-I think I left something in the car. One second." you rushed out the words before turning on your heel.

Zendaya let out a long sigh, "Fuck."

Tom frowned, "Did I do something wrong?"

'But she's so sweet, she's so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?'

"Y/N!" an unfamiliar voice called out to you from somewhere in the boys' backyard.

It was Harrison's annual barbecue get together. Nearly three months since your break up with Tom.

You turned towards the source of the noise and found a girl walking towards you. Brunette. Tight black dress with black heels. Body and face of a model.

"I've been dying to meet you! I'm such a huge fan. I basically live off of your music." she giggled as she hugged you.

You smiled, "Aw! Thank you! That means so much to me. You look amazing, by the way."

She laughed, "Thank you! But you're absolutely gorgeous! Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nadia, Tom's girlfriend."

Of fucking course.

You raised your eyebrows, but managed to keep a smile on your face, "Oh! I've heard so much about you! Well, Tom's one lucky guy," you chuckled, "I'd love to chat some more, but I need to use the washroom. Excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you." you gave her a hoaxed smile before quickly walking away.

You were two feet away from the washroom when Zendaya grabbed your arm, "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Your breaths were coming out in short puffs, "I just met Nadia?"

Her eyes widened before she dragged you towards Tuwaine's room, "Okay. Let's sit down."

'Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go,'

"You should move in here." Tom mumbled against your shirt.

You let out a small laugh, "You already have four roommates, love. One more might turn this into a barn."

He lifted his head off of your chest, "I'm serious. Driving from Manchester to Kingston all the time is such a hassle for you. We have recording studios here and it would make me the happiest man in the world if I could wake up to your gorgeousness everyday." he planted kisses on your forehead, nose and lips.

You chuckled at his boyish grin, "It's only a three hour drive and I'm sure the boys don't want me imposing on your time with them."

He quickly shook his head, "I already talked to them about it and they want you here, too."

You raised your eyebrows, "Well, if you're sure it'll make you the happiest man in the world, I'll think about it."

"You already make me the happiest man in the world, but I needed something to convince you." he rested his head on your chest again as you laughed.

'So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"Are we ordering pizza?" Harrison yawned from beside you on the couch.

"Sushi?" you grinned hopefully.

Tuwaine shook his head, "We had sushi last night."

"Tom and I are making dinner for you guys!" Nadia reminded you from the kitchen.

Her arms wrapped around Tom's waist as he stirred whatever was in the pan he had on the stove.

You really hated their open floor layout at that moment since there wasn't a wall to block them from your view.

"Oh, yeah. What're you making?" Sam asked.

"Salmon with rice and steamed veggies." Tom answered without looking up from the pan.

Everyone made noises of realization as you turned to Harry, "Aliens or a tiger. Which do you think you could beat in a fight?" he asked.

You laughed before replying, "Hmm, depends. Are the aliens small or—"

"Tommy!" you heard a girly giggle and turned to see Tom with Nadia over his shoulder as they laughed and ran around the kitchen.

You quickly diverted your gaze to the coffee table. Forgetting about Harry's absurd question. All eyes were on you.

"What?" you asked when you finally looked up at your friends.

"Are you okay?" Harrison frowned from beside you before resting his head on your shoulder.

You let out a dry, quiet laugh, "Of course. As long as he's happy."

The looks of pity you received were almost as painful as the scene you witnessed moments ago.

'And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean,'

"Premiere day!" Zendaya walked into your shared hotel room with a bright smile, Nadia following behind her.

You faked a smile as you applied another coat of mascara, "You girls look gorgeous."

Zendaya was in a red and black sequin gown. Hair down and heels on. Nadia was dressed in a maroon silk dress with a slit on the side. Black heels dawning her feet. Both had makeup and accessories on matching their attire.

You were in an emerald green gown with a slit running down your left leg. Silver heels and silver jewellery to match.

"So do you!" Nadia exclaimed as she sat on Zendaya's bed.

"Are the boys coming soo—" Zendaya got cut off by three loud knocks on the door.

"I'll get it!" Nadia jumped up and opened the door.

Tom was stood before her in a maroon suit. Matching her dress. Black dress shoes. Matching her heels. Glasses on and a bright smile.

You watched as Tom ran his eyes down Nadia's outfit, "Well, aren't you just the most beautiful girl in the world?" he planted a kiss on her lips as you witnessed with envy.

"Aw, Tommy. I love you."

"I love you more, darling." he grinned before looking behind her.

Heart wrenching pain struck you again.

You watched as his mouth fell open by the slightest bit. Eyes growing wider.

He quickly snapped out of his daze, placing a pearly white smile on, "You two look absolutely stunning."

You acknowledged his compliment with a curt nod.

Zendaya let out a laugh, "Yup. About to out do you at your own premiere."

'Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?'

"Green or white?" you held up both dresses against your body.

Tom looked up from his phone, "Both of them will look amazing on you, love."

You sighed, "I appreciate the compliment, but I am meeting Sebastian Stan tonight. Now is not the time for indecisiveness. One of them will make me look bad and I need to know which one."

The Infinity War premiere was in two hours and your anxiety was growing by the minute.

"C'mere." he motioned you towards him with a 'come hither' gesture as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You made your way towards him. Standing in between his legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "You are the most beautiful girl in the world. Absolutely gorgeous. You could make the ugliest dress look like something from a fairytale."

Your smile grew as he kissed your stomach, "Thank you, mi amor." you bent down and placed a peck on his forehead, leaning your head against his, you whispered, "Now, green or white?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips, "White."

You smiled before making your way to put on the white dress, "I love you."

"I love you more, darling."

'And now I'm picking her apart. Like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart. But she's beautiful, she looks kind. She probably gives you butterflies.'

"I don't like her." you murmured.

Zendaya chuckled, "Nadia? You barely know the girl."

You nodded, "And I don't like her. I don't like her giggles and her nickname for him. I don't like her hair."

You knew you were looking for things to dislike, but there weren't any. She was a fan of your music, she complimented you all the time. She was genuinely a great person.

She sighed, "No, you don't like the fact that she's dating Tom. If she wasn't, you wouldn't be saying any of this."

You rolled your eyes and glared at her, "Can you let me be angry?"

She laid herself down on your mattress, "Nope. If you wanna be angry, be angry at Tom. Nadia hasn't done anything to you. You're better than this."

"God, I hate your optimistic side sometimes." you threw a pillow at her.

She laughed, "One of us needs to be the optimist."

You sighed, "Do you think he misses me?"

"Yes." she replied without hesitation.

You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows, "What makes you say that?"

She let out a long breath, "You need to talk to him about that."

'I hope you're happy. I wish you all the best, really. Say you love her, baby. Just not like you loved me. And think of me fondly when your hands are on her. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"And you're dead." you dropped the controller on your lap as you defeated Harrison in Super Smash Bros again.

He huffed like a child, "Unfair. I taught you how to play, how'd you get better than me?"

"Actually, I taught her how to play. And I am ten times better than you." Tuwaine corrected him.

Harrison scoffed, "Whatever. Sweaty nerds, the both of you."

Nadia spoke up from Tom's lap, "Can I try?"

You nodded, "Who do you wanna go against?"

She chuckled, "I think I'll verse Harrison. Seeing as how Y/N just kicked your ass, I wanna at least have a chance."

Her comment made you laugh as you handed her the controller and watched them pick their characters. You watched as Tom set his phone down and focused on the screen where his girlfriend chose Pichu.

"Choose Kirby." Tom told her.

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Why? Pichu is so cute."

"Y/N always plays as Kirby and she always wins. With that stupid power absorbing ability." he chuckled as his eyes landed on you.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the small detail he remembered before you played it off with a light laugh, "Not my fault you thought Luigi could beat Kirby everytime we played."

'Ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo,'

You pressed on the keys of the piano in the boys' home. Singing your heart out. You still had your spare key and Harrison told you no one was home.

You were waiting for them to return from golfing so you could have your Sunday night dinners. It's been nearly four months since your breakup with Tom. Your album was due to be released on May twenty-first and you were letting the still evident pain fuel your lyrics.

"I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go. So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier." you faded out the piano and pressed stop on the recording on your phone.

Writing down small notes about the song and things to tweak, your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"I'm not."

Your head snapped up. Tom was leaning against the doorframe behind you. Tears escaping his eyes.

"T-Tom. I'm sorry. Haz told me the house was empty and I just started playing and- Wait. What did you say?" realization dawned on you.

He stepped closer and sat beside you on the piano bench, "I'm not happier. Hell, I'm not even happy." he gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh, staring straight at the black and white keys.

Your mind was trying to catch up with everything happening, trying to register his words, the state he was in. Grey sweats, black tee. Messy hair and red eyes.

"Why?"

He released a heavy sigh, "There's so many things you could be asking 'why' about. Why did I break up with you? Why am I with Nadia? Why am I not happy? Why the hell am I crying? Which one is it, Y/L/N?"

You blinked a few times, "All of them."

He sniffled and rubbed his face, "I felt like I was holding you back." he started, catching a glimpse of your confused expression, he continued, "You hadn't released any music in over year. There were so many articles saying that I was the reason that the biggest pop star in the world was quitting music. I didn't want to be the reason for that."

"You weren't and you aren't." you assured him.

He shrugged, "I just felt like you would do a lot better without me. And you are. Look at you, your fifth album is coming out next month." he nudged you with his shoulder, "I'm proud of you," he smiled.

"T-thank you."

He nodded, "Anyways, why am I with Nadia? Um, a few days after we broke up, I went to a friend's place to distract myself, as one does. She was there. She was a distraction. I never meant for it to get this far. You know, she actually asked me to be her boyfriend." he chuckled dryly to himself as you listened intently. "I guess, I thought it'd be easier to move on if I had something else to pour my love into?"

You nodded slowly, "Okay, I somewhat get that. So you really do love her?"

He quickly shook his head, "No, no, I don't. I mean, I can't. No one can truly love two people at once. And I think that answers the question of why I'm not happy." he paused and faced you completely, "I'm crying because hearing that song and hearing how evident your pain in it is, that will make anyone cry. I'm crying because I miss you and I miss us. I-I miss what we had and what we were. I miss your kisses and your stupid jokes that only you laugh at. I miss going on walks with you and Tess. I just miss you."

There was a long period of silence after his confession. You were trying to process all the information he was giving. He was cursing himself for being so straightforward. The longer it went without a response from you, the more anxious he got. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his lips.

"Please say something. Anything."

Déjà vu.

You swallowed, "You want honesty?" he nodded, "Okay, I was so mad at you. I-I was infuriated. Y-you told me you weren't ready to give a hundred percent of yourself and that you couldn't be in a relationship until you could give all of yourself to that person. Then a month later, you're with her. Making me feel like you just couldn't give yourself to me." you paused and shook your head, "You could've told me the truth. You should've told me the truth. We could've talked about it. We could've avoided months of awkward run ins and no communication." he nodded, still holding your hands in his, "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't miss you because I do, I miss you more than anything, but we shouldn't be doing this or saying these things while you're with her." you removed your hands from his.

He spent a moment looking down at his fingers. Releasing short breaths. "I don't want to be with her."

"But you are. And I don't want you to break up with her for me. Because that's not how things work, Tom. But you shouldn't stay with her either. Especially if this is how you're feeling. That's just unfair to her." you shook your head and felt your mind clear.

He nodded and met your gaze, "This is the end of us, huh?"

You shook your head, "I don't think there will ever be an end to us." you laughed dryly.

He agreed with a smile, "For forever and a day, remember?"

You nodded, "For forever and a day."

[uncannycookie]

You are the entire reason I ship terumob. They're so cute. I love your writting and it's amazing. So far my favorite is Of Nearly Letting Go. It's a damn shame ONE never got to the aftermath of the mogami arc. :o It said you were looking for writing prompts?? Maybe Chapter 9 but from Teru's perspective?? It'd be interesting to see his internal thoughts of the big reveal

Ahhh sorry it took me so long to get to this! 

I tried rewriting scenes before, but I just can’t quite make it interesting enough when all the dialogue is already established. SO. I hope you don’t mind that I adjusted your prompt a tiny bit… now it’s the aftermath of chapter 9 from Teru’s POV.

I really hope you like it, and thank you so so much for the prompt and for reading my fics!!

AO3 link

In Liminal Space

Teru has no idea what kind of book he's holding right now. He was looking at the shelf pretending to pick one out for at least a few minutes, but if he was actually expending any energy on reading through the titles, he immediately forgot about them again.The only thing he knows is that it's large and heavy and shaking in his hands.Teru is absolutely no stranger to the sensation of wanting to kick his past self right in the teeth an indefinite number of times. But it's a relatively new twist that he would feel it this strongly about a past self that's only a few weeks old. He was under the impression by now that he'd gotten better than that.Yet here he is, playing through a past argument in his mind again and again, remembering this bitter, satisfied sense of superiority when he brought up the cats to prove a point. And now it just makes bile collect at the back of his mouth.

The book covers are slowly bending in his hands, pages fanning open and pressing against his fingers in a way that he knows will give him paper cuts if he just moves his hands a certain way.With a hard breath, he puts the book down. Leans closer to the bed, his elbows making the mattress dip slightly, and props his chin up on it just a few inches away from Shigeo's face.It's burrowed deep into the pillows and covered up to the nose in blankets. Teru can hardly see any part of him except a worryingly flushed cheek and one closed eye, almost entirely hidden behind a thick curtain of hair. Near his nose on the pillow, the blankets are bundled up where he must be holding them in his fist. His knees are drawn up all the way to his chest. It makes him seem so small that Teru has to swallow past a traitorous scratch in his throat.It was maybe five minutes ago that Shigeo curled up here and tucked himself in, but his breathing is already deep and even.Teru's hands, empty now that the book is lying forgotten on the floor, must have wandered towards the hem of the top blanket all by themselves at some point. Now they're pulling it further up Shigeo's shoulders, which are covered in two layers of thick blankets already ‒ but it was not even a few hours ago that there were small ice crystals stuck in black hair and eyebrows, that pale toes and lips and fingertips were turning blue. Teru is entirely governed by the senseless urge to keep him warm right now.(Safe.)He makes sure to keep his grip light and soft, to not do anything that might wake him up. Which is yet another reason to not let his hands wander even further up and run his fingers through his hair. Apart from possibly waking him, that might also be just a tiny bit creepy.Teru still keeps his fingers curled around the edge of the blanket for a few seconds too long. He's never used this one before. He's spent a lot of time telling himself he bought it simply because he liked the pattern of purple and blue circles and that it had nothing to do with how it reminded him of someone.His legs are starting to hurt. He's been kneeling on the floor in front of the bed for a few minutes now. For some reason, his muscles are trembling with an odd strain.Well, no, not for some reason, he knows the reason. They just had a half hour long talk about the reason.The more calm and quiet Shigeo's breathing becomes, the more Teru's own is picking up, hitching uncomfortably, pressing a sensation of dry cold into the roof of his mouth. He's been trying ‒ albeit not all that successfully - to keep his own feelings on the issue somewhat contained. It's not about him after all. He's supposed to be just the supporting cast, literally.But now it's quiet and his mind is running away with images of blood and loneliness and dead cats and Shigeo right in the middle of it.He pushes himself upright, too fast, too jumpy, and the edge of the futon behind him gets caught on his heel and nearly trips him up.He should get some shopping done. It's the perfect time and he needs to anyway. There is nothing edible left in his fridge, there is nothing else to do in here and it's silent and it's making him itch on the inside.The pajama bottoms he's wearing are just plain enough to not be too embarrassing to wear outside. He still grabs a scarf and a long coat to hide most of his questionable outfit, as if he would even meet anyone at this hour who would care. There is a small shopping list pinned to the magnet board by the door, but he hasn't added anything to it in at least two weeks, so it's pretty useless. He'll know what to get when he sees it.

At some point between two and five in the morning, the twenty-four-hour convenience store becomes a weird place.

There is a small group of drunks pretending to be sober in front of the entrance, too absorbed in their surprisingly sophisticated discussion about artificial intelligence and the nature of human consciousness to really pay him any mind as he walks past them.There is that sales clerk behind the counter that Teru would swear is a different person every time, but who still nods at him as if in recognition whenever he comes here.There is the quiet, cheerful and relaxed music slithering through the air above him. He knows it's exactly the same music as during the day, but it sounds slower now, more tinny, just as the lighting appears colder when the windows are tinted dark from outside.The shelves are loaded with wares that he's sure he never sees here any other time. That chocolate bar in front of him is from a brand that was discontinued years ago. He drops it into the basket hanging from the crook of his arm.Only distantly, the realization bumps into him that he brought his cash card with him. That's usually a bad idea for night time shopping, as he's had to learn the hard way. He stops in front of the refrigerators, fumbles the card out of its usual place in his wallet and crams it into another slot along with four other cards. If it gets to the point where he has to either spend an awkwardly long time pulling it out of there again at the register or just put a few items back instead, this might help him to make the more sensible decision.It's already a challenge to fit it in there at all, because his hands don't want to stop trembling.Teru remembers this one summer camp from when he was a kid. Camping in the woods somewhere, with lots of child friendly survival training, tying knots, fishing, making camp fires. Nothing he was particularly good at or interested in.He was already spoiled back then, already convinced he was better, only he hadn't figured out yet how to distract from his rough edges with the thick padding of charm that is his second nature today. Hadn't figured out how to be mean and arrogant and make people like him for it.Those were three weeks stuck in the woods without friends, without anything nice to do. Three weeks with even the adults there not willing to indulge him anymore, three weeks of being the singular most disliked person in a group of twenty.He managed to stay angry while he was there. To yell at the other children when they hid bugs and snakes in his bedroll, to argue with the adults when they put him on cleaning duty the fifth time in a row, to loudly defend himself every time he alone was forced to carry the blame for their "roughhousing," to barge in filled with rage whenever he caught a group of other kids making fun of him behind his back.And then, when his mother came to pick him up, he ran to her so fast that he fell and knocked out a part of his front tooth on a rock. Even though it was still humiliating, he could at least leave the other children behind knowing they'd think he was bawling his eyes out because of that.And it might be a stupid little thing - a stupid little story, one where maybe every other person can tell at least one similar to it from their own childhood. It's probably the most normal thing, Teru doesn't know.

He does know that it formed him. That it was one of the things that had him trying harder to be popular. It was three weeks of loneliness that he was not going to let himself experience ever again.He can't even begin to wrap his mind around six months.Should probably not even think of comparing one unpleasant three week camping trip to six months of ‒  A hot lurching sensation invades his chest and he has to breathe it away harshly, squaring his shoulders and filling his lungs with as much air as he can. There is a word for what was done to Shigeo there, hovering at the edge of his mind, but he doesn't want to think it, wants to keep it neatly in between the lines of Shigeo's story, where the storyteller himself likely didn't even notice it.Teru is clutching the handle of the refrigerator door in front of him, maybe a bit too hard, and staring right past his reflection in the glass. He's trying to remember... he feels like he's hanging off kilter, jarring conversation snippets clinging to his mind the way a catchy but awful song would, only it's Shigeo's soft, kind voice declaring that "it's not so bad," and "it wasn't real," and "it was so long ago."And Teru is trying so hard to remember if he even answered anything. If he made sure, absolutely certain, that Shigeo knows it was real and it matters.He doesn't think he did.What a joke he is. There was the most basic sort of reassurance he could have provided, just a few strict words he could have said to offer some basic validation, and he was too busy feeling horrified to even attempt it. All this time that he spent trying to get Shigeo to open up, to just fucking talk to him, and when he finally does, Teru is completely useless.A derogatory chuckle escapes him, falls against the glass in front of him and spreads light fog over it. Teru is leaning so close to it that his entire vision is buried in white.Will he ever learn not to do this? To not think himself so much better, so far above failure? It was only ever about making Shigeo trust him, breaking him out of this self-inflicted prison where apparently it wasn't appropriate to acknowledge that he is not okay.And that was it. The end goal. He hadn't even bothered to think past that. Hadn't even considered the possibility that maybe he wouldn't come up with a solution right on the spot, that maybe he wouldn't be able to fix it.That he wouldn't be able to help.With a small snapping sound, the door handle fractures under his hand and he hastily lets go. The shelf behind him would have made it impossible for the clerk to see, but Teru still throws a nervous look over his shoulder and then quickly walks a bit further up the aisle.What even is it with him and refrigerators lately.He sighs loudly, pulls a hand over his face and rubs his eyes until he sees stars. Groceries. That's why he's here. He should stop letting himself get distracted. The drunks from outside have entered the store by now and are wandering along the aisles. Teru makes sure to keep a few steps between them and himself. They seem pretty harmless, but it's hard to tell sometimes and he doesn't want to risk a confrontation. Not today.Two of them are holding hands while they stumble through the store.Teru stares for maybe a second too long. His own hand twitches around empty air, senselessly grasping for the memory of a touch. It's not that he thought Shigeo reaching out to hold his hand was ever about more than simple comfort. He knows it couldn't mean anything else. Teru started that whole thing, offered it as a solution for a problem he barely understood, and that's all it's been ever since.He always enjoyed it. Was always feeling weirdly proud and special whenever Shigeo's fingers would quietly slip between his own as if that was something they did all the time. Teru savored those instances of something almost intimate between them. He knew it was only happening because something had upset Shigeo, but he felt trusted and useful, felt like he was actually doing something to help. At least it never seemed as if it wasn't helping.And all this time, while Teru was walking along in blissful ignorance, proud that he was doing just a small thing to make a small problem go away - this had been on Shigeo's mind. Memories of - of cats dying and of Shigeo dying and of Shigeo being alone, and hated, and helpless...Teru presses his palm to his forehead, hard, if only to stop himself from punching something.The handholding drunks are looking at him in concern. "Kid," one of them says, hardly even slurring, "you feeling alright? Drink some water, we're getting some water right now. Water helps. Hey!" They turn and gesture towards one of their friends already at the register. "Hiro! Get, get some extra water for the kid, yeah? He doesn't look so good, kid, you really don't look so good.""I'm fine, thank you," Teru bites at them and quickly adjusts his hand gesture so it looks like he was just going to brush the hair out of his face. He means to send a smile along afterwards, but it feels more like a strained grin and he is surprised that it still seems to work somehow. The drunk points at him with a stern frown. "If you're sure," they say, already turning away. "Gotta take care of yourself, you know."Teru waves them off with barely contained annoyance and flees to another aisle.Right, so, time to concentrate. All he has in his basket so far is a possibly ancient chocolate bar that he should probably put back. He'll do that when he gets back around to the front of the store. For now, he should prioritize what he needs in his head, pick the most important stuff first and leave what he can't afford right now for later. A gentle buzzing feeling is ghosting over his skin, urging him into action. He hasn't gotten anything done for way too long now.He'll have to make breakfast for Shigeo tomorrow, so the first priority is milk. Two cartons, just to be safe. He still has some coffee powder at home, but no marshmallows. There have to be marshmallows. Teru instinctively reaches for his standard ones, but snaps himself out of it just in time. They're cat-shaped. It's like he's trying to be an asshole now. Grinding his teeth for a second, he gets the more expensive ones instead, the ones that just have dog and bear shapes in different colors.Also, he should make pancakes. The thought barely strikes him before he's already collecting everything he needs, hardly even realizing how he gets from one side of the store to another. Every movement feels a bit too erratic, too sudden. Only in front of the shelf with the syrup does he stop for a moment, searching deep in his memory for any inkling of what Shigeo's favorite is. He doesn't know. Does he even like syrup at all? Teru ends up getting all four he's looking at. Just to be safe.The drunks have left the store. The music stopped playing for some reason. The sudden silence makes Teru hurry up even more. When he's standing at the register, he realizes that he doesn't have enough cash to pay for everything. He doesn't even consider putting anything back and instead spends about half a minute fumbling his bank card back out of his wallet.The clerk accepts it with a wide-eyed look. Teru raises an eyebrow at him and there is an odd, slow moment where they just stare at each other.Then, as he notices a little leftover flare of his own aura, Teru realizes he probably doesn't remember how he got around the store just now because he might have been using telekinesis to do it.... oops.The clerk has slipped back into his work routine by now, quietly ringing him up and handing the card and his shopping bags to him. The light perspiration on his forehead and the enormous question mark in his eyes are the only indicator that he's even remotely uncomfortable.Teru takes the bags and aimlessly waves one hand around at the store behind him. "So you noticed that too, huh?" he says with a forced casual tone. "Seems to be some weird haunting going on here. Maybe think about hiring an exorcist." Then he hurries towards the exit, paying extra attention to his feet and that they stay on the ground. He hasn't slipped up like that since forever ago. Apparently he's very tired, even though he doesn't really feel like it anymore.On a garbage can next to the exit sits a single, unopened water bottle with a post it note on it. "Water is healthy, kid!" it reads. Teru blinks at it for a moment, before quickly walking past it.He is nervous on the whole way back to his apartment. Like an itch in his throat that he has to try and swallow again and again to make it go away for at least a few seconds. Dawn is slowly approaching when he unlocks the front door and closes it behind him to the first sounds of chirping birds. It hasn't registered until now that it's not really nighttime anymore, that his late shopping trip switched to an early shopping trip somewhere along the way. That's worse, that's so much worse. What if Shigeo woke up already while Teru wasn't there? Woke up to an empty apartment, alone and abandoned, right after the sort of talk they just had?Teru rushes up the stairs taking three steps at once, the railing shakes and creaks loudly under his grip. The content of the shopping bags would have long since spilled all over the staircase if he didn't keep it inside with his powers.His fingers are shaking when searching for his keys.

He knows he locked the door and windows properly before he left, but spirits can still get in. Why didn't he think of that?

He's never seen many spirits, none actually before meeting Shigeo, and he's certainly never had to be afraid of them.

But suddenly there is a spirit that managed to overwhelm the strongest person he ever met, a mere spirit with enough power to blur the lines of reality and the mind. A spirit that, as far as he knows, is still alive somewhere and still watching Shigeo.Finally he unlocks the door. It slips from his grip and crashes into the wall of the hallway. Teru barely catches it in time as it swings back at him, but then tries to close it as quickly and quietly as he can. The bags slip from his hands and right to the floor, he kicks off his shoes and jumps over them, dashing to the living room.He feels unhinged, suddenly, his muscles twitching weirdly and making him move in ways he doesn't want to. There are no spirits nearby, he can feel that, but there is still that thought clawing at the back of his neck that he left Shigeo alone and if something happened to him then it's his fault, he needs to make sure he's still there and safe and warm -With his socked feet, the sudden stop at the door to the living room almost has him sliding to the side and falling, but he catches the door frame just in time to keep himself upright.Shigeo is still there.

In fact, he hasn't moved at all since Teru left. His knees are still drawn up to his chest, his hand still curled around the blankets, his face still buried deep into the pillow. As Teru's heartbeat slowly but surely backs down from ringing in his ears, he can make out the calm, even sound of Shigeo's breath.Teru goes slack against the door frame. Holding himself up with the right, his left arm now tightly wraps around his ribcage, fingers grasping for purchase on the thick, rigid surface of his coat. Something burns in the corners of his eyes, hot and itchy, and his next inhale stutters, hitches and becomes a sob.This is stupid. And loud. He'll end up waking him after all.Turning around, he leans with his back against the frame, decisively looking away from the bed. He presses a hand to his mouth, closes his eyes, keeps swallowing hard and breathes through his nose. Stop, he thinks at himself, calm and clear, strict. He knows he doesn't listen otherwise. Stop. He's fine. He's still here.The arm slung around his middle is not the sort of contact he is craving, is not at all enough compared to holding another person. But it helps, just a bit. Just for now. It has to.Only two more sobs manage to escape him, then he bites back the rest. They taste bitter, but at least it's quiet now.

One, two, three more breaths and he pushes himself off the frame. Hangs up his coat, picks up his groceries. By the time he's cleaned out the fridge and stocked it anew again, the sun is already coming up. Teru quickly washes himself, turns on the coffee machine, and walks back into the living room.Everything is still as it was before.Teru kneels down next to the bed, elbows on the mattress. He tries not to look at Shigeo too much. That'd be weird.The purple and blue blanket has slipped down Shigeo's shoulder again. Teru carefully pulls it back up.Just to keep him warm.