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doromoni · 19 hours ago

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Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : Oki, quick reminder! This is all fiction!! nothing in this ever happened in real life, so don’t hate on the people referenced please!

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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landonorris

liked by ln4, mclaren, f1, and others

landonorris And thats how you do it 😏. Pole for tomorrow’s race baby!

mclaren back at it again!! thats our driver 💪

ln4 How many poles was this again? 🤔

user1 Ok sir cook!

user2 Get em Lan! close the gap from Max

user3 Yes! this year’s battle is so tight 😮‍💨

user4 I’m so glad Lando is Mclaren’s no. 1 driver

user5 yeah for now

user4 @user5 what do you mean, for now??

user5 Give oscar time, you’ll see

user4 Piastri is literally in P17 while Lando got pole 🤡

user5 you didnt watch the practice sessions did you 🤡

user3 Get the p1 tomorrow Lando!

user4 Y/N fumbled letting Lando go for Oscar…. couldnt be me 🤢

user5 why would you even drag Y/N here? let’s not forget who cheated on who

user6 McLaren worked extra hard to cover that issue…. and we should not make it any easier. Cheaters remain cheating

user4 yeah yeah whatever! Lando stays on top

user6 That smirk was not necessary sir… you literally got the fastest car??

user7 and his teammate got what place in the fastest car? right 17

user8 Lando’s got that team favoritism buff tho

user7 what favoristism?

user6 @/user7 are you blind or stupid? its pretty obvious that Mclaren favors Lando over Oscar

user9 Don’t listen to the haters Lando!!

user10 Ngl I like Lando over Oscar anyday. McLaren should just fire the Australian like they did with Danny ric. Bro is not going anywhere in this team.

Notification: My Osc🧡 replied to your message*

*Incoming call from Manager Kim

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

-Hi, Kim. What’s up?-

-Y/N, your new ep has still charting at number 1 an opportunity opened up and it is HUGE!-

-Like how huge are we talking Kim?-

-HUGE huge, Y/N!!-

-Really? whats the gig and when is it? -

- I need you to fly out here to the states like right now!-

-Woah what? I can’t right now Kim. Oscar crashed and I need to be with him in the race. Everything is in chaos here and I — can’t it just be over the phone? -

- What? are you being serious right now? Y/N this is your career. Are you really choosing a boy over it?! Y/N listen to me. This opportunity comes by once in a life time, don’t waste it -

- Kim… can’t you reschedule the meeting? or something? please? -

- No, Y/N. They want to personally meet you here by tomorrow evening. I swear this is your Lando situation all over again! -

- Excuse me?? what does that even mean? -

- Y/N , you’re reliving your relationship with Lando through Oscar! -

-That’s not fucking true Kim!-

-Really, Y/N?? You’re even starting to give up opportunities for Oscar!! Does that ring any bells for you?? huh?? Remember you gave up that collab with Justin Bieber because your shit of an Ex was insecure and jealous?!! How is this not the same?? You’re doing all of this for what? so that your new boy toy can cheat on you?? Your being delusional again, Y/N. Get it together -

-KIM! You’re being out of line! You have no right to dictate what happens in my personal life. This is my decision to make not yours, and I’ll stand by what ever consequence i’ll face for it-

- Yeah, you’re not the one cleaning shit up, if you aren’t here by tomorrow. I swear Y/N… I’m done with you and your team.-

*beep* *beep* *beep*

-Oscar’s POV-

Notification : Mark sent a message*

Notification: Logan has sent a message to Timtams and Ranch*

Calling: My Dearest 🤍

*Ring*

*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*

Calling: My Dearest 🤍

*Ring*

*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*

Calling: My Dearest🤍

*Ring*

*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*

Calling : My Dearest🤍

*Ring*

-Hello?-

-You had me worried there, dear. Are you busy?-

-Oh, uhm no. No I guess-

-Are you ok, Baby? Is everything alright?-

-Yeah, No. Im ok, just some things to think about for work-

-Ok… if you say so. I’m heading back to our room okay?-

-Yeah. see you later. Bye Osc-

-Thank you for being here and supporting me in everything Y/N… I know it’s not easy for you. I love you-

-I… I love you too Oscar-

f1news

liked by user 1 and user2

f1news after yesterday’s chaotic qualifying. The teams and the grid are only starting to heat up, with McLaren starting the fire. Oscar joining papaya isn’t as heaven sent as everyone thought.

While inside drama is brewing inside McLaren, are other drivers starting to pick sides? Yes they are! While some are neutral, it is obvious who are leaning towards supporting Oscar. The drivers had taken to instagram stories to show just on whose part of the McLaren garage they support.

user1 Chaotic is a way to put it. It was an absolute shitshow.

user2 I guess Mclaren couldn’t handle 2 talented drives at the same time. It’s actually so saddening, especially for Oscar. His team always puts Lando first at EVERYTHING.

user3 I find it hilarious how most of the grid are either on Oscar’s side or just doesn’t care.

user4 Only Carlos is actively still supporting Lando

user5 The dude has beef with Piastri, even before in Osc’s rookie year

user6 Carlos is very protective of Lando I guess

user7 Protective of Lando?? Dude the man is a grown adult! Carlos has beef with Oscar for a whole different thing I’m sure

user8 Everyone let us thank McLaren for the drama in and off track! you’ve made our lives more fun

user9 Ikr? might be torture for the people involved but its so entertaining for us. Lmao sorry Oscar.

user10 Max switching sides from Lando to Oscar is so freaking funny. Max is full out ignoring Lando

user11 Oh what i would give to know the tea behind that

user12 you know what would be iconic? Oscar throws another party

user13 Throw a party and invite all Mclaren then dip before it would even start

user14 ngl that screams Oscar fr

user15 I can’t wait for the race later! it would be carnage on track!!

user16 I’m watching Oscar for sure. Boy looks absolute mad during the qualifying.

skysports live

*paddock , track side*

-Oscar, just do your job and please keep your mouth shut. You’re under probation and comments against the team won’t make it any better-

-Yeah, yeah… why not fire me while you’re at it-

-Hi, Peter! I’ll take it from here… Well hello to you Oscar. How’s it at the back of the grid?-

-Great to see you too Lando. Yeah, it’s alright. It keeps me humble, not that you would know what that means-

-Oh, You’ll be more humble when I win today-

-Sure… not till you bottle turn 1 and lose the lead. Y’know like you always do-

-Lando, Oscar! What are you two doing back here? Oh yes, Oscar is in P17… can’t believe they’re considering you and not me. Tsk waste of a seat-

- Haha funny. Carlos, mate what are you even talking about?-

-That Red Bull seat shouldn’t be offered to you. Ferrari’s 2nd option shouldn’t be you!-

-What Carlos is saying is that you shouldn’t be offered seats or be driving at all, Mate. Honestly your better off back at Alpine. Good fucking riddance for us-

-Yeah, oh please fire me! and I’m not the one being replaced by Hamilton next year.

-Hijo de puta! You have the nerve?! -

-Whoa. Ok let’s all calm down. Oscar come with me-

-Oi! Charles were not done here. Oi!-

-Mate, what the hell??-

-Charles?? where are we going-

-Just keep walking. You cant stay out of trouble can you?-

-They came at me! I was seriously about to go my car. I swear, your teammate hates me. I didn’t do even anything to him-

-He’s loosing his seat, of course he’s pissed-

-Why at me?? Aren’t he supposed to be mad at you or even Lewis?-

-Ok, fine… you didn’t hear this from me. But Lewis’ contract isnt final with Ferrari and you are the next driver option-

-WHAT-

-So RedBull and Ferrari wants you… and Carlos wasnt even in the choices. So yes he’s livid and no he doesn’t like you-

-Oh…-

-Yeah, Oh. So get your act right and drive your ass off today. And maybe I or Max might have a new teammate next year-

*End of Oscar’s POV

Y/N.

liked by y/b/f , alexandrasaintmleux, markwebber, and others

Y/N. Here with you, no matter the goal. Always

tagged @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri No matter the destination. Always

liked by author

mclaren Drop by the garage @y/n. we miss you!

redbullracing she’s with us today 😏

scuderiaferrari We have next dibs! 🤪

user1 why is redbull and ferrari in y/n’s comments??

user1 get married already!

user2 Y/N and Oscar support each other so much 🥺

user3 Wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them would elope or already be married.

user4 Oscar needs all the support right now.

user3 yeah thats sweet and all. But when are we getting the album tho??

user4 let Y/N have fun and take her time.

user5 I’m expecting a breakup and a love album at this point from you ms @y/n.

user6 Mom… Y/N and Oscar are being mysterious again. I’m scared

user7 I’m scared too 🥹

user8 like what goal are they talking about??? gettingg married?? starting a family?? change in careers??

user9 I need answers 🙂‍↕️

Notification: You missed a call from Manager Kim*

Notification: Manager Kim sent you a voice message*

-I see, you’ve made your choice. Don’t regret it. I’m done working with you-

Would you like to call Manager Kim back?

Yes or No

*RedBull Racing Motorhome: Lobby

-Hey, Y/N. You ready to go to Max’s garage? -

-Hi, Kel and hello P! yeah lets go-

-You ok, Y/N? is everything alright?-

-Hmm? yeah, yup. I’m ok. Just a lil weird not being in Oscar’s garage. Let’s go to the track! -

-Okay~ If you say so. P, can you hold auntie Y/N’s hand for me please? Mommy has alot to carry -

-Thanks, P! and thank you Kel-

-Yeah, I’m not stupid Y/N. Something is up I know it. But I won’t push you… i’m here if you need me, yeah?-

-Thanks Kel… -

Liked by user1, user2, and user3

F1 And we have our podium drivers!! What a race indeed. 🏆

tagged @maxverstappen1, @charles_leclerc, and @oscarpiastri

user1 HOW IS OSCAR HERE??? P2? WHAT A DRIVE!!

user2 Man drove like a beast! His driving today was insane 🔥

user3 Oscar took yesterday’s qualifying personally 💀

user2 Lando being pole to p6 is just 🤡

user3 and his teammate started at P17 … is P2

user4 I can’t defend the man anymore

user5 Max and Charles really gave Lando a hard time during the first few laps huh

user6 Lando was so agitated in the team radio 😮‍💨

user7 I dont if i want to laugh or cry at Lando’s luck

user8 Charles defending P2 from Oscar was amazing driving, but Oscar was on smth else today!!

user9 Lando bottled the start. Gasp! … anyways.

user10 why aren’t we surprised 💀

user11 Isn’t anyone gonna comment about McLaren ordering Oscar to stand down?? Hello??? what was that?

user12 Not them ordering Oscar not to overtake Lando 🤢

user13 I’m so happy Oscar ignored team orders!

user14 Oscar deserves that driver of the day for sure!! Masterclass driving. He is a future WDC, i’m betting my house!!

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

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tragedy-of-commons · 2 days ago

Text

HOMECOMING.

── dan heng x gn!reader

summary: Your boyfriend invites you to spend Christmas break with him and his eccentric (but lovable all the same) family. You oblige.

contains: modern and university au, established relationship, comedy and tooth-rotting fluff, christmas shopping, the astral express fam all make appearances (pre-2.7), setting is very american-inspired (sorry), cringefail exuberant reader, one hurt/comfort scene

word count: 11.4k oops

taglist: @singularity-sam, @mitsvriii, @tetrachrxmacy, @bladism, @mikashisus

notes: for @azuresaqua, written for the @/stellaronhvnters secret santa 🎄 this took all month, but i hope you like it crys!! also this totally looks fine on dark mode. if you think otherwise then ummm SHHH. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Your phone blares with its usual grating ringtone, startling you out of your reverie.

Scrambling to pick the device up, you’re pleasantly surprised. So much so that you drop the sweatshirt in your free hand mid-fold. The caller ID reads Dan Heng, lighting up your homescreen with his contact icon.

A warmth buzzes in your chest as you look it over, a giggle erupting from your throat. The selfie is of you and him, with Dan Heng looking particularly spacey in the midst of the bustling street.

You’re now considerably less bored. You’ve been looking for an excuse to procrastinate doing your laundry all day, and it just so happens to entail talking with your lovely partner. Not waiting any longer, you clear your throat, tap the green accept button, and press the speaker to your ear.

“Hi, darling!” you chirp, shifting to sit more comfortably, “I miss you. How’re you holding up? Still in the library studying the day away?”

The other line crackles with life. “Hello. I feel the same,” Dan Heng informs you matter-of-factly, his cadence clear as a river. “And no, I’m not there anymore. It was… too crowded for my liking.”

That’s no surprise. Finals are upon the whole campus in a few days, and it shows. There is a distinct, depressing atmospheric pressure that weighs upon your fellow students.

The scourge of exams, the final boss of the semester, the enemy of mental fortitude and peace. Though Dan Heng loves your university’s expansive library, you can imagine he’d be less enthralled when a hundred tired young adults are populating it to cram.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you wince. “Well, look on the bright side. We’re almost done, yeah? Soon enough, the library will be solely your domain once again, and you can be a doll and skim the archives in my stead.”

His voice takes on a sarcastic lilt, affection hidden underneath the words like a hard-won reward. You think it’s an indulgence for him. “If my memory serves correctly, I had to smooth things over with the librarian on your behalf. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to loiter there any longer, as energetic as you are.”

How cheeky! Honestly, you’re not even that loud. Sometimes you laugh a little too hard at benign things (like the way some book titles sound out of context), or react too vibrantly at the wrong times (like exclaiming profanities after tripping over your own feet), but those aren’t crimes.

Even now, ruminating over this reasoning, you still don't understand how you got banned from the library. Unreal.

“Hey, come on now! I don’t even loiter… I just want to spend time with you, even if studying isn’t something I burden myself with. That guy has it out for me,” you insist, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. “Anyway, I’m not saying this to be rude, but…”

“But?” Dan Heng asks cautiously.

“You normally don’t call first. Is everything okay?”

You mean it when you ask. Though you love your boyfriend, he isn’t the best at initiating longform communication. Sometimes you’ll get a text with a link to a video he found interesting, or he’ll update you with life (mostly just classes and endless papers), and then you’ll respond by quadruple-texting and then maybe calling him. For hours. And then asking to come over to his dorm. And then falling asleep with him. All at your request, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

That being said, it’s atypical that he takes up the mantle, which makes you worry. And if you worry, Dan Heng feels guilty. Trying not to be patronizing, you patiently wait for him to speak on his own terms, humming to yourself idly. You could, y’know, do your laundry, but you’re not gonna do that. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he assures, words measured. “I just have something I’d like to run by you, but I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”

“I’m never busy! Spill!” Extremely curious, you pluck your phone from your ear and put Dan Heng on speaker. While you’re at it, you also stand up and pace the short length from your bed to the door of your suite, clothes abandoned on the floor.

“It’s about this winter break. We haven’t conferred on plans yet, but I was planning to ask you if you’d meet my… my family. Of course, it all depends on your availability - don’t feel too rushed to answer, I’d just like to know in advance so I can get things in order on my end.”

Woah, what just happened? You stop walking to think, gears spinning and grinding and pushing all sorts of implications. His family.

Dan Heng has one, yes, he divulges details every once in a while and elaborates on his mishmash of a homelife when you ask, but you’ve never heard him refer to these mystical figures as family. They’ve always been referred to as my friend, followed by their name. You know them well, committing each to memory despite not having met them yet: March, Caelus, Welt, and Himeko.

Of course, you pester your boyfriend about them. Nothing too invasive, just remembering the important details. Asking for updates about March’s creative ventures or inquiring if Himeko’s coffee has gotten any more palatable, to name a few.

In turn, Dan Heng would make a comment about how they also pester him about you. It’s like a big game of telephone - this indirect communication is what you’re used to. It’s kind of surreal to think about actually meeting them after all this time.

Then the joy comes. He wants to share this part of his life with you. Is this the natural next step in your relationship, like all seasoned married couples fondly reflect back on? Dan Heng wants to spend three and half weeks with you, uninterrupted, at home. His home.

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them away, grinning like an absolute fool. Does he really think you’ll say no? You’d already do anything to make him happy. Despite being several buildings and crosswalks away from him right now, your hearts feel impossibly close together.

(It’s not like you have anything else planned.)

That thought is pushed away as quickly as it comes. No time for you to be bitter when it’s the season of giving and all things cheerful! This opportunity is nothing short of a blessing… you’re saved from being cramped up inside the inevitably deserted hall for the entirety of break. You’re saved from having to admit to Dan Heng that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do like everyone else.

Shock, joy, relief.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, breathy. With a repressed-young-man-trained-ear, you catch a soft sigh of relief dissipating on the other line. “Yes, of course I want to meet them! Dude, this is so exciting! What if I died? What if I blew up the entirety of campus in my merriment? What then?”

He is far too used to your theatrics to react too strongly to them at this point. “...I wouldn’t put it past you. But I’m glad you said yes. There’s just the issue of details to work out.”

Dan Heng proposes different times on different days to leave. Well, he probably went more in depth than that - he likes to schedule and plan for the future, even if he doesn’t always stick to those self-imposed regulations in the end - probably droning on about the cost of gas or something. But you’re way too shell-shocked to respond coherently, muffling squeals and noncommittal hums that give away exactly how much you’re not paying attention.

Digesting about half of the information, you bring up what you have left to do before winter break after he does the same: registration for next semester’s classes, turning in textbooks for certain courses (thank the stars renting is affordable here), and the remaining days riddled with finals.

Despite how daunting these tasks are for others, you find yourself enjoying the denouement. Guessing on scantrons has gotten you pretty far, and the other obligations can be swiftly eliminated through sheer will and lots of Christmas music. Your Spotify listening history must look like some kind of tinsel-festooned warzone.

This will be your first ever Christmas with Dan Heng. He’s never been extremely festive by any means, but you cajoled him into a matching Halloween costume a month ago, and he is fond of horror movies despite how silly they can be, offering little bits of trivia or his critiques on the film’s score.

You think this holiday, spent at his home, in his hometown - will be the source of many happy memories. It’ll also, hopefully, be another endless source of teasing.

Images flit through your mind, the most notable of which being your stoic boyfriend in a truly hideous red and green sweater. You snicker to yourself until your amusement is disturbed by Dan Heng promptly clearing his throat.

He says your name in that soft way that makes you weak in the knees. You’re under his spell just as much as he is under yours. You should take to reminding him of that more often. “Just to be clear, is this alright with you?”

It’s so much more than alright, you think. Winter, for all of its bitter cold and unforgiving responsibilities, still teems with life as the leaves die. For every day you’ve spent alone during the last two Christmases, you’ll be repaid with one in kind spent with Dan Heng and the people he trusts most.

You’re blessed with the sweet thought that you’re now a part of those treasured, trustworthy few as well.

You know you’ve been treasured for a long time, but feeling it actualized, solidified in action, is as homey and warm as a burning hearth.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am, darling. I’m so excited that I think I’m shaking!”

You tighten your grip on your phone, almost leaving indents in the shitty case, attempting to still your vibrating fingers. His response is a mumble along the lines of you should probably eat something, and I’m glad. Dan Heng can be a little awkward, especially over the phone, but that just speaks of his sincerity. He’s glad you’re coming.

You scuttle over to the window beside your bed, yanking the blinds askew to peek outside. A glimpse of the first frost coating the student parking lot promises something more. Something magical and childlike.

Joy. You have a feeling you’re going to be extremely insufferable to any and all scrooges (people rightfully sick of dealing with your chipper attitude) in the coming days. Oh well, they can suck it up because it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and you’re in love with the most amazing person in the world.

You tell him not to worry, which he sighs at, and then the brunt of the conversation is over. The following silence is calm but electric, dragging on for just the right amount of time. A well-deserved respite, you think.

“I love you,” you confess.

“...I love you too. Touch base soon.”

With that, the call ends abruptly. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re reinvigorated, daydreaming of Dan Heng’s expressions obscured by distance - you want nothing more than to see him, but you know your partner well enough to realize when he needs a break; to realize when he needs his alone time. You would never begrudge him for it.

That was a fucking whirlwind.

You shove your phone in your pocket after nudging the blinds back in place. There’s so much to do, and you’re definitely gonna need another run-down of the schedule (preferably in person), but for now, you’ll let yourself be over the moon and overrun with task paralysis.

Triumphantly, you turn to flip off your abandoned pile of laundry. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“We are so back!”

You’re so impatient that you’ve started counting the hours.

The final stretch is a lot more boring than you thought it was going to be. Picking a time to check out of your dorm, fixing up any scuffs on the walls from your shitty posters before room inspection, actually passing your classes. The normal stuff.

Both you and Dan Heng decided that you would leave at around three in the morning on the first day of break. It sounded bewildering at first, and you had levelled him with a look that made him hurriedly elaborate.

“In order to get there at a reasonable time, it’s the best way to go,” he’d said over coffee. “The drive isn’t more than a few hours, but if we leave right after routine inspection, we’d be arriving in the middle of the night.”

Though the mental image of showing up on a quaint little home’s doorstep in your pajamas and waking up the whole neighborhood with your knocking is funny, it’s not funny enough to quell your nerves.

You’ve noticed, usually in the midst of trying to be productive, that the excitement is weighing heavily on your heart. Your hands are perpetually shaky, you’re sweating disgusting buckets, and you’re sure you look as if you’ve lost your marbles to any soul brave enough to strike up conversation.

That last part came to your attention when Bronya, your desk neighbor in your Interpersonal Communications class, dared ask you if she could borrow a pencil. She barely got the question out before she asked if you were alright. And if Bronya asks you if you’re alright, it means that you must look terrible.

Sure enough, you are getting less and less sleep, and you’ve been prone to twitching. In retrospect, you probably had that wild look in your eye that screamed I am at rock bottom and it’s in the public’s best interest that I’m contained.

But you’re not at rock bottom! You’re just nervous, and it’s weird when you’re nervous, because such an occurrence is as rare as a blue moon. You’re going to be meeting Dan Heng’s family in a matter of days, and you’re expected to behave as a normal, functioning member of society. Unbelievable. Even the love of your life has noticed the difference in your behavior - he seems disturbed but respectful.

You recall him asking if you were ill, which you had vehemently denied. Then he kissed you under the thin covers of his bed, and everything was fine for a moment.

But you think you’re feeling better on this day in particular. To distract yourself from the anxiety, you’ve sunk deeper into the holiday cheer. With Dan Heng at your side, you’ve blown off classes for the day to go gift shopping. The outlet mall near your university is always bustling, but during this time of year, you’d think there’s an overpopulation crisis wreaking havoc on your city.

Escalators are crammed with excited children dragging their parents along, there are decorations painstakingly put up in every nook and cranny, and you have a mission to see through.

“Thanks for ditching to help me out,” you preface. “It’d be way too difficult to shop for your family on my own. Just the idea of stress-buying things they may not even like… ugh. Also, wow! I realized you haven’t told me jack shit about them! I’m actually clueless.”

Dan Heng is not amused, but he doesn’t outright refute your assertion. “I suppose you have a point. And I didn’t ditch class,” he emphasizes, ears red. “Psychology got canceled.”

Here, among the sea of people, Dan Heng looks his least confident. While you, the person known for befriending every stray cat you meet, look your best.

The juxtaposition makes you feel fuzzy, and you know in your heart that he would've helped you anyway, even if he had class. He can be so obvious but so subtle at the same time. You tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt once, purely affectionate.

“Right. Uh, where do we start? Who’s the easiest to shop for?” you wonder aloud, crossing the stretches of marble and doing your best to peer down the massive store-lined strip. “We could start with March. She’s into crafty stuff, right?”

Your boyfriend tames a cowlick in his dark hair. “Yes. You seem to have a plan figured out already, but she uses up heaps of film while taking photos. An arts and crafts store would likely have the 600 type for her Polaroid. That’s what I had in mind in terms of a gift she’d appreciate.”

“We seem to be on the same page, but that just sounds so… impersonal! Bit of a safe choice, don’t you think? Let’s play it by ear and see what they have. I’m sure she’d also appreciate something handmade. I think I have enough time to DIY a gift; they probably have kits for all sorts of stuff.”

Dan Heng is starting off in the direction of the correct storefront. The display window is easily spotted, plastered with all kinds of paper mache ornaments. “You don’t need to fret. Knowing her, she’ll love anything that comes from you.”

You blink, grinning. “Really? Didn’t know I was so popular.”

“You have no idea,” sighs Dan Heng.

Warmly titled Make n’ Create, the door chimes, signifying your entry. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the smell of candles - a few hundred thousand, you hazard.

Scents of vanilla and evergreen paired with cinnamon burn your nostrils as you survey the aisles of winding shelves overflowing with endless possibilities. Almost forgetting to return the greeting of the woman behind the counter, you snap out of your stupor and drag your boyfriend along.

Everything looks enticing… your savings account is telling you to be responsible, but your heart is telling you to snatch up and squirrel away any item of interest just in case. You wander the marble floor under the bright fluorescents, humming under your breath. “Hey, we can probably save some time and split up. Could you go look for the film? We’ll definitely get that along with whatever catches my eye.”

Relieved to have something to do, Dan Heng nods and disembarks from your side, perilously weaving between other shoppers buzzing with excitement. He mentioned that he deliberately put off Christmas shopping since you insisted on doing it together, the thought alone satisfying.

The prospect of scrawling both of your names on the same box, passed off into eager hands. The words will read From: Dan Heng and his partner.

Rounding a corner, the pottery and ceramics section calls to you like a siren. There are stocks upon stocks of white, unpainted Christmas trees and wreaths, advertised as blank canvases to decorate as your own - paint included. Those are cute, but something relevant year-round would probably be received better.

Impressions, impressions. Your gaze drops lower, dutifully searching…

Aha!

Ceramic jewelry dishes. Same gimmick as the trees and wreaths, but not necessarily seasonal. There are a few different types among the kits - heart-shaped, some with hinges that open and close, even some with music box elements with heftier price tags.

Your intuition slaps you across the face multiple times. March will love one of these, you just know it! Cautious, you spare a shifty glance from left to right before squealing to yourself. The package in your hand is crisp and promising as you check over the price and instructions.

Dan Heng returns to witness your perfect find. You know this because you recognize the soft padding of his footsteps anywhere (which is not creepy). You turn to see him and the fond look in his eye - and the aforementioned packages of film he’s clutching.

“Hey, you,” you chuckle. “You found it, great! Anyway, look what I stumbled upon. Do you think she’ll--” “Yes,” he breathes, suddenly decisive. “She will. Especially the heart one.”

Quickly heeding the ever-rare suggestion from Dan Heng, you discard the now inferior package and seize the heart-shaped one. “I trust your judgment. She has good taste, honestly. Thanks for your help, love, I appreciate it. I know for a fact she likes pink, and though my hands are a little clumsy… I’ll make a masterpiece outta this, trust me.”

He exhales through his nose. That’s a laugh if you’ve ever heard one. “You sound so resolute…”

“Duty-bound, if you will,” you grin. “We can move on to the next place if you’d like. Didn’t expect to be done here so fast.”

“...wait.”

You tilt your head, following his line of sight back to the shelves. He seems transfixed on something else there, and a few seconds go by in silence as you’re left to figure out what it is on your lonesome.

Dan Heng has gotten better at speaking his mind - he was never bad at it, but sometimes words get tangled up in his reticent hesitation. You understand this well. So, you try to determine what’s caught his eye. The understanding you come to is a nice one. The lowest rung of the shelf, almost overshadowed, are more ceramics - no surprise there. But it feels like fate the way that they’re displayed; two sturdy coffee cups with intricate handles, then a miniature raccoon forever inlaid with a devilish expression, practically commanding a paintbrush to make its mischievous grin come to life with color.

Himeko, Welt, Caelus.

You laugh, loud and bright, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand with a conspiratorial grin. “Four birds with one stone, huh? We’re gonna need a cart!”

Dan Heng is blushing. It’s subtle, not at all burning or obvious to any nosy bystanders, but it’s enough to make your heart sing with delight. You take it he’s glad that you picked up on his thoughts so wordlessly.

He excuses himself after muttering something about going to get the cart while you smile like an idiot. A lovestruck idiot. A lovestruck idiot with a soon-to-be overdrawn bank account.

…well, not exactly. After you gather everything and go to check out, he insists on paying for all of it. You make sure to argue with him in front of the very amused cashier, reaching a compromise in no time at all thanks to your amazing negotiation skills. He’ll pay for this load (whatever), and you’ll pay for any remaining splurges today. It’s only natural you need to stop by a few more places, considering March has two gifts while the others only have one.

By the time Dan Heng’s social battery is drained and yours is frayed, you have everything. An apparel outlet that you would’ve never stepped foot in normally now has your patronage; a golden brooch in the shape of a rose (that’s surprisingly affordable) for Himeko, a classy but patterned tie for Welt, and a trendy jacket for Caelus.

You think you’re the most jealous of that last one - it has many pockets and takes up enough space to suffocate a small orphan.

Hauling the bags into the icy parking lot, you suddenly stop in your tracks, feeling the generous weight of your spending in the process. “Hold on.”

Your tired but loving partner heeds your command. “What? Is something the matter?”

“We forgot to shop for each other,” you point out, sheepish and breathy. Seems you’ve both been so caught up in the tradewinds that you forgot. “Should we go back inside?”

“No,” he blurts, “I’ve already acquired your gift.”

Gobsmacked, you almost drop your share of the bags. He’s been holding out on you?! The surprise quickly fades into mushy limerence before it dulls. “Huh? When did you do that? Oh shit, I haven’t gotten you anything yet… dude, I’m sorry, I’ll head back inside, all secret mission-esque and find you something while you wait in the car--”

Dan Heng shakes his head. “You… you don’t have to.”

The hell? Does he even know how Christmas works? “Of course I do, come on,” you push forward. Knowing you’ve already forgotten where you’ve parked, he strides out in front of you and leads the way, preparing to argue his case. “We’ll put these in the back, and I’ll find you an amazing gift, you’ll see.”

You both reach his little beat-up sedan (which you’ve aptly named Granny), while he fumbles for his keys. He sighs, rolling the frigid joints in his shoulders as he opens the driver’s seat to unlock the trunk. Setting the bags down on the gross pavement is unfortunately inevitable. You throw the thing open, already loading.

Dan Heng’s rebuttal is almost startling.

“I don’t need an ‘amazing gift’. I have you.”

You freeze. Where did he pull that from? Are you hallucinating again? Is this like the time you stayed up for two days straight to half-ass a dozen unfinished assignments? Or maybe it’s selective hearing… such a line is probably from an old romcom that you’re mentally regurgitating and then projecting onto him.

But you don’t tease or ask him to repeat it. Instead, you choose to fully believe and embrace that compliment, warming your heart and your cheeks. His expression is obscured from your position, but he probably looks the same.

“I’m… really glad you think so, Dan Heng,” you almost whisper.

Before he can say anything else that’ll ruin the moment, you decide that’s your job! and slam the trunk closed, deafeningly loud.

“But that’s unacceptable! I’ll find you something perfect in the coming days no matter what!”

You hear him sigh before you hear his approaching footsteps. “Try not to stress too hard about it. Also, open that back up, there are more bags.”

“Oops,” you giggle. “Why not ask me nicely, like in that Romeo way you did five seconds ago?”

Your other half rightfully elects to ignore you.

As you finish wrapping up with him at your side, the subsequent ride back to campus is in comfortable silence. The buzz of what’s to come lingers on your mind as you stare out of the passenger window at the familiar scenery. You’ll find time to squeeze in finding a gift for Dan Heng, you’ll make sure of it.

But for now, what to pack for the impending trip…?

You wake to the sound of your blaring alarm. Scrambling for your phone to make the thing shut up, you’re blinded by the time. It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’re disoriented, and you desperately want to go back to sleep. But when you really come to a minute later after hitting snooze, it all sinks in.

Your room inspection is over with, your finals have been taken (you didn’t fail any of them, yay), and you have to leave campus with Dan Heng in about thirty minutes. Surreal that you’re awake at this hour, you go about getting ready - this includes texting the man of the hour to make sure he didn’t oversleep.

To your satisfaction, he responds swiftly. To your horror, he mentions that he’s ready and waiting. Unfair, in your opinion - why is he always punctual, and why are you always late?

You look in the mirror at your haphazard reflection. Not too shabby; just a leisure t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulled together by the thickest jacket you have since it’s grown even colder out. Your bags are already packed and practically bursting at the seams, loaded with your essentials, and of course the presents for Dan Heng’s family.

You spent all of your free time crammed between everything else painting the ceramics while he wrapped and made everything else look pretty.

(You almost got crudely mixed pink paint on your dorm wall - well, you did just a little bit. Luckily it came off without the need to go sprinting to the nearest hardware store in pursuit of a cover-up job. That would have been bad. Very bad. Also, you left the primary suite door open to ventilate, and at least three students walking down the hallway witnessed your perfectionism-driven breakdown. Also, your suitemate hates you now.)

All of that’s over, though. Making sure you have everything once, then twice, then three whole times - you decide it’s finally time to go. You lug everything out of your dorm, down the hallway, into the elevator, and wait as it descends.

You check your phone, updating your boyfriend as the cabin grinds to a halt on the ground floor. Outside is nothing short of beautiful, if not hypothermic.

Snow falls in tiny flurries that make the dark cement purgatory look like a dream. The floodlights leave some corners of the parking lot shadowed, but illuminate Dan Heng just right. You spot him and his old ass car smack dab in the middle of all the empty spaces, just about everyone having vacated already.

“Hi, darling,” your breath syncs with the air as a wispy cloud. You kiss his cheek. “You ready?”

“I have been for the better part of an hour,” he informs you, perhaps a little grumpy from waking up so early - or it could just be that wry sarcasm rearing its head.

You find that Dan Heng is neither an early bird nor a night owl, oscillating between the two like nobody’s business. He’s up when he needs to be, including now, softened under the touch of your lips.

And so, without much fanfare, the road trip commences. It’s notably different than the other times he’s chauffeured you around - so silent and grave. It kind of puts a damper on the Christmas spirit you’ve so painstakingly adopted, but you think twice about cranking the radio. He is the one driving, after all.

You offered to switch with him halfway, and to his credit, he thought about it. But then Dan Heng politely shook his head and muttered something about bad weather and hydroplaning. Whatever a hydroplane is, you aren’t sure what it has to do with you being untrustworthy behind the wheel.

The pleasant blast of the heater, the occasional robotic warbling from the GPS app, and the noise of the light drizzle outside are your more talkative companions. You’re getting antsy; you feel it in the bouncing of your leg and how you mindlessly chew on the dead skin of your bottom lip.

Should you try to ignore it? Put on your headphones and tune out? The thought is appealing.

Instead, you pipe up a few minutes before you’re due to turn on the interstate.

“Wanna get coffee?” you singsong. “I mean, you especially are going to need the caffeine to keep awake. Sleep deprivation is, like, the number three reason people get into car crashes.”

Dan Heng huffs in amusement. You’re glad that got some kind of reaction out of him, glad that the stoney silence has been broken. But if you’re being completely honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), this detour suggestion is just an excuse to delay the inevitable. For all of your joy, lingering anxiety chips away at your trademark smirk.

You decide to bribe him just a little. “I’m buying.”

He turns into the nearest place without any further prodding. The coffee, which you have successfully paid for by the way, is nice. The searing light of the menu options, clambering over Dan Heng to place your orders as loud as you can because you know it’s hard for them to hear anything - fleeting memories of taking orders at your high school part-time job and all that.

As you take the cup holder tray from your partner, ferried through the drive thru window, he speaks up, much to your chagrin.

“You’re nervous,” he says, leaving no room for doubt. You continue to situate the drinks and glance into the side view mirror, taking a sudden rapt interest in the line forming behind you.

You decide to lie. Maybe he’ll be merciful and let you work this one out on your own. “Me? Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression? Perhaps you needed the coffee more than I thought… poor Dan Heng, so tired that he’s hallucinating…” you whistle.

Gaslighting, unfortunately, doesn’t work. Persuasion check must’ve rolled off. Dan Heng says your name, soft but stilted in a way that makes your heart ache. He rolls out of the drive thru after checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. They gain their color back after he realizes you’re staring at them.

“I’m nervous too. Extremely.” You’re back on the highway, and you fiddle with the GPS to get yourself back en route, taking in his words as they come. Dan Heng is being candid with you; encouraging. “Going back home is always an… ordeal.”

You deflate a bit, conflict warring on your face. Considering how flustered he gets when you dote on him, albeit within his limits, you can’t imagine how exhausting being fussed at from all angles would be. Not like he’s a kid, but that he’s returning home after another semester of being independent.

“Yeah, um, I can imagine. I don’t know much about that stuff, but it’ll probably be amplified with me coming with you. We’ll get through it together and have a great time.”

You say it to convince yourself more than him, but it works. Perhaps that was his plan all along?

“Yes,” agrees Dan Heng. “We will.”

The interstate stretch, predictably, is the most sizable chunk of the trip. Temptation whispers in your ears tantalizingly, the idea of a nap or two at the forefront of your sleep-addled mind. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield battling with the snow makes it even harder to resist.

So, you doze soundly in your reclined seat, nice and warm. You think you feel a hand, cold and calloused, brushing against your cheek, but fighting it would require waking up to demand he focus on the road! It retracts, and you’re out for a good long while.

You know that for a fact, because when you wake up, dawn is encroaching. The stars are still visible against the bleeding horizon. You feel much better, even if Dan Heng suppresses a smile at your expense - you seriously must look wrecked from a few simple hours of rest. Geez.

You yawn, waking up to chat. Your boyfriend looks unruffled, cool eyes scanning road signs for a place to apparently fuel up.

He tells you that there’s only about an hour or so left, the ETA checking out. Nerves flood your system, but after a deep breath and stepping out to stretch your legs, you feel better.

“Who knew you were so good at pep talks,” you tease, if not to hide the fact you’re completely enamored with him. You fill up the tank after he cuts the engine, purposefully yelling so he can hear your words through the rolled up windows. “My man, the motivator!”

You hear his ensuing groan, claiming mental victory as the pump dings. Easy.

Staring at the signs of his hometown, a foreign sense of wonder engulfs you as you split from the interstate. Has that diner been there since Dan Heng was a kid? Did he even spend all of his childhood in one place? Should you ask, or is that too invasive?

The trees lining the grassy outcrops are tiny and thin, likely just having been planted by the city. How much has changed since you’ve started monopolizing his time?

Your questions spill out, and he does his best to answer them - but he also seems nostalgic, wistful and pained. Your earlier revelation rings true; you don’t know much about Dan Heng’s past.

That’s slowly changing as he tells you some stories, though his words are messy and create a muddled image in your head. You don’t push too far, chattering his ear off in response to keep things lighthearted.

(Maybe you’ll be more open about yourself too. Maybe.)

Then you careen into a residential area. It’s more suburban than you expected for a city-town hybrid of this size, streets of apartment units and then gated communities of houses. You whistle because you’re almost there, you can feel it!

“Which one is it, huh?” you pester, practically pressing your face against the glass. “Come on, pick up the pace a little!”

“I am not keen on getting a ticket this far in. A few more turns.”

True to his word, a row of townhouses come into view. They’re not massive, but the few you see are brimming with character. Full, decadent awnings and aged brick matched with just the right colors to make your brain happy. They look lived in, filled with memories that you’re eager to digest and, hopefully, be a part of.

Dan Heng pulls into the driveway of the oldest-looking one and parks. The GPS drones on, informing you of your arrival. Your anxiety has almost entirely abated at this point, thank the heavens and stars, and it’s near time to face the music with open arms.

“What a nice place! I guess we should greet them, and then start unloading?”

He nods. It’s still cold out, but less so than at school. Stepping out onto the pavement gives you a little thrill, and you trail behind Dan Heng, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets as you stare at the front door.

It has a little brass knocker in lieu of a doorbell, and you reach out to grasp it on instinct. Your hand brushes his that had reached out at the same time.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

He sighs and finally knocks after you reel your grubby hand back. It all comes down to this - kind of anticlimactic from someone else’s perspective, but paramount from yours. Who will answer the door?

The answer is immediate: Welt. The thing creaks open, revealing a tall, older man with graying brown hair and glasses. He’s utilizing a cane and looks exactly like you imagined, distinguished and fitting right into the scene with his creme turtleneck and kind eyes. He regards you both, first Dan Heng, then you.

“You’re here early. Welcome back - and I see you’ve brought them, as promised,” Welt’s voice is warm, and you get the feeling the small smile he’s wearing is quite rare. “Come in, we’ve been waiting on you two. It’s an honor to meet Dan Heng’s esteemed partner.”

You’re utterly awestruck, responses forming on your tongue only to dissolve into garbled nothings. As you robotically follow inside, you watch as Dan Heng falls into an awkward-looking side hug with Welt - quickly averting your eyes so they can have a moment. Then, you can’t contain it anymore, speaking to your heart’s content.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot - well, not a lot, but enough,” you ramble unapologetically, taking in the decor of the foyer, “and I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea. Are those Ray Bans? You have a lovely home!”

Your boyfriend, wetting his chapped lips, communicates silently with Welt. You think it’s something like a greeting, a familial synergy you can’t quite grasp yet. Maybe it’s a warning: I am dating an idiot chatterbox, please be nice to them.

That seems unlikely; necessitates further observation. This is just like Animal Planet.

“Thank you, I recognize your sincerity. It’s a rare trait, these days,” he mutters mostly to himself, probably reminiscing on some mysterious past. He goes on to curtly answer your more frivolous questions while leading the two of you deeper inside. Dan Heng squeezes your hand and you share your own telepathic glance with him.

This is going well!

The interior of the living room is striking, bearing the marks of age and care. You recognize most of the furniture as antiques - leather couches and loveseats with beautiful upholstery, a sage grandfather clock standing tall near the stone fireplace, and overflowing bookshelves that’d satiate even the most voracious of readers.

Paintings adorn every wall, not a square inch left blank. The mantle boasts many trinkets and baubles of various cultures, some of which you recognize - and some of which you don’t. Those could definitely be a great conversation starter!

So charming, so quaint, so rich in history! You’d wax poetic and stare at each nifty little thing until your eyes bled if you could.

“Darling, I didn’t know you were so well-off! Maybe I should start calling you Mr. Old Money.” “...please don’t.”

Welt hides a chuckle in his gloved hand before surveying the room. “It seems everyone is doing their own thing. I’ll go get Himeko, she must be in her study,” he throws a look over his shoulder, uttering your name with just the right amount of phlegm. “Welcome. Don’t be afraid to make yourself at home.”

And you’re left alone to breathe for a short minute. You run your thumb over Dan Heng’s knuckles reverently, pondering aloud. “He’s so cool! He’s an animator, right? I’ve heard you mention something like that before.”

He nods. “Indeed. He’s worked on various pitch bibles for all kinds of IPs, but he’s more content on assuming quieter roles in the industry, or so he’s told us. His passion is what carries him, not the spotlight.”

“...that’s a great way to live,” you marvel. The air feels vulnerable after that, the nature of something as intangible as family running through the undercurrents of the house. “Do you think he’s right for being so humble?”

“It is not my place to comment, but… I can say that I look up to him,” he admits, giving your hand a shy squeeze. “Himeko is similar. She’s--” “--enthralled to finally meet your acquaintance?”

A new voice cuts in. Himeko is also a vision, donning a winter shawl that wraps around a sepia-colored dress with tights, topped off with a beret. She looks absolutely stunning, and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to compliment her profusely. She stands at a comparable height to Welt, expression softened with mirth.

“It’s long since overdue,” Himeko extends a handshake which you take. Your jaw must be scraping the floor, which Welt and Dan Heng see fit to ignore.

She whips a ruby curl out of her face to scrutinize you - shit, you probably should’ve worn something nicer. First impressions and all that!

She greets Dan Heng with a hardy embrace after letting your hand go. He stands rigid.

“I was beginning to think he was making you up,” she teases. “When you both settle in, we have a lot to catch up on. Can we help you with your bags?”

You grin at your boyfriend, nudging him with your elbow. “Whaddya say, huh?”

He nods, shoulders slumping as if he’s made it past some great obstacle.

“Great,” Welt interjects, heading back towards the front door with Himeko in tow. Dan Heng turns to you, voice akin to a whisper.

“March and Caelus are probably in their bedrooms or,” he sighs, “conspiring elsewhere. If you’d like, you can go on and look around while we deal with the luggage. It’s a lot to get used to, and you’re better off getting your curiosity out of your system.”

You gasp, splaying a hand over your heart. “You say that like I’m some unruly child! I’m not going to break anything…”

Dan Heng gives you a look.

“...this time,” you begrudgingly add.

Before he can hurry after them though, you gingerly (roughly) grab him by the collar and give him a smooch. It’s over as quick as it began, and you barely get a glimpse of his scandalized visage before you set off to explore.

The adjoining hallway leading you out of the living room is painted stark white, all kinds of framed photographs hanging on display. Most of them are noir shots of famous people; movie stars, historical figures and the like. You stop in your tracks to look each of them over.

Some aren’t so impersonal. For example, there’s one of Himeko standing in a train station, posing on the platform with a massive and austere steam locomotive behind her. There is also a gray-haired dude at her side, pointing at the train with an exaggerated expression of shock. Caelus. And the photo’s signature - March 7th.

Right on time, before you can continue snooping, you hear the distinct noise of bickering further down the hallway. You grin, sensing drama like a blood-sniffing shark.

The muffled racket becomes clearer as you approach what is probably a bedroom door, and you hesitate for only a second before not-rudely throwing it open. You can deal with the consequences later. After all, this sounds more like banter than a serious argument - you would know!

The first thing you see are two figures with their backs turned to you. Pink and gray hair hunched over a desk - Caelus sitting and clicking furiously with March pointing at the one of the three flashing monitors, posing a threat to this hell of a gamer setup.

“You actually suck at this! Log off already, Dan Heng and his guest are going to be here soon,” she chastises as Caelus huffs, him dying moments later (in Pac-Man of all things). “Seriously, this is as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t know how you have so many viewers…”

You blink, scrutinizing the monitors again. Yes, there’s Pac-Man, but there’s also a live chat that seems to be going crazy, dozens of messages burying even more dozens of messages. There’s a facecam too, framing all three of you - wait, three?

Oops. You’re live on Twitch.

“March is just a grade-A hater,” Caelus declares to his audience, “always betting against me. I’ll have all of you know that I, Whisperer of Dumpsters, Toilet Destroyer--”

A groan. “Not this again.”

They seem oblivious to the fact that you’re here, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. Clippers must be going nuts right about now…

Dan Heng never mentioned that Caelus took this career path - but then again, you can imagine he was trying to avoid the headache of you pestering him with stream references. Either way, you’re here now, and you’ll be damned if you pass up an opportunity this golden.

“They’ve been keeping me in the basement for three years!” you yell, causing both of them to jump and turn in bewilderment, “They’re frauds, kidnappers, liars--”

“We’ve been what?!” March shrieks. She’s either 1.) quickly adjusting to your improv and playing along or 2.) now wholeheartedly convinced that you’ve been held captive here under the floorboards.

The chat lags from how fast messages are coming in, and Caelus cackles maniacally before mashing a shortcut on his keyboard to switch to a Be Right Back screen. What a performance, and you also burst out in laughter, not unlike his.

“Well, you certainly uh… made an entrance,” March grimaces, looking only slightly mortified. That sourness fades into a friendly smile as she scratches the back of her head. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh my god, c’mere!”

Caelus stares at you with beady eyes as she bounds towards your form in the doorway, engulfing you in a giant hug. You feel like crying again. This was supposed to be unserious, but you can’t help but already feel at home.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Your hair clips are so cute!”

You exchange pleasantries for a moment before you hear creaking. Caelus has stood up now, an unreadable expression on his face as he approaches slowly - like molasses slowly. One menacing stomp in front of the other like he’s trying to intimidate a bear. You tilt your head curiously while March spins around to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Group hug. Bring it in,” he answers cryptically.

March wrinkles her nose. “Why do you sound like that? You’ll creep them out!”

Caelus turns to you, looking for confirmation. Immediately, you understand what you must do. This chemistry you share with this kindred spirit should be studied in a lab under a microscope.

“Collective embrace,” you parrot. “Bring it in.”

“...so you’re both weird, huh? Just great.”

You respond by smushing both of them in a crushing hug, a chorus of giggles echoing off the walls, all three of you being the perpetrators.

This year’s holidays are off to a great start.

Things surprisingly don’t drag on.

What that means is a little hard to quantify; nebulous like carbon monoxide. You can’t see it, you can’t taste it, but it certainly takes its toll.

The first day comes to a close after a shared dinner, a feast, really - you’d never seen so much food in your life and you scarfed it down like a starving man in between conversation on every topic under the sun. You’ve fallen into the swing of things so naturally, and while that’s good, it’s a little too good.

You’ve never considered anxiety to be a formidable foe in your life. You carry conversation, pass the cornbread, spice up everyone’s lives (sometimes at the detriment of your reputation), and most importantly, you do it with a smile.

But after a night or two spent in Dan Heng’s almost spartan bedroom, tossing and turning, you’re starting to believe you’re in more trouble than you thought previously.

The nerves are easy to suppress when you’re bouncing energy off someone else, lost in the moment, because you do truly enjoy the socializing - but that feeling lingers.

And when you’re left with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling with a vengeance on the third night of your stay, all of the doubt catches up. It gains ground until your heart thunders in your chest.

You’ve learned that Himeko is buddy-buddy with the department of transportation, doubling as an engineer and cartographer. She’s even had a part in restoring defunct trains to their former glory, spearheading many vacations along the way.

(You don’t deserve to be privy to such a meaningful story.)

Caelus can’t ride a bike. Neither can you. Upon coming to this seismic revelation, he offered to take the plunge with you in an attempt to learn if you were interested. You agreed before he could even get the full sentence out.

(You’re only good at goofing around.)

March insisted that you be a temporary proofreader for her own university essays, most of which being on topics you could never wrap your head around in a million years.

Shenanigans ensued until you ended up denouncing higher education as a whole, choosing to believe in her own freestyle structure rather than whatever hellish rubric was being peddled.

(You’re too airheaded to help in a normal way.)

You’ve even grown closer with Welt. You two listened to the crackling of the old gramophone in his respective study, chiming in with your own thoughts on his archaic but classic music taste. There was a little bit of discussion on media preservation, your earnest passion pairing well with his own.

(You’re coming off too strong.)

But you feel the worst about the man sleeping next to you.

You’re supposed to be in your highest spirits, but Dan Heng has gotten good at spotting your tells. The tightness of your smile comes off as overjoyed to your new friends, but strained to him. The guilt of possibly ruining it all is unforgiving, tightened about your neck like an evil scarf.

He knows something’s up, and you know that he knows. It’s on you for not being forward about your struggles - hell, you’ve scolded him countless times about how he clams up about feelings and all that mess. You’re just a little bit of a hypocrite, then. What would you even say on the subject?

Sorry I’m such a buzzkill? Sorry I haven’t been more open with you? Sorry that I’m the actual wors--

You muffle a sob, burying your face in Dan Heng’s pillow. You just need to calm down, even if that means getting snot on his nice shams. You hiccup, and to your muted horror, the mattress creaks with movement.

Voice rough with sleep and alarm, Dan Heng calls out to you. You tense but otherwise refuse to lift your head up from your comfy sanctuary, chest rising and falling in snappy bursts.

You can’t face him like this, so tangled in everything you feel. You feel so unbelievably guilty, even if a more sensible part of you knows you’re just overthinking.

“Please look at me.”

If you’re making comparisons, Dan Heng must be the wind. Gentle and mild like a calming gale, never a torrent eager to knock you off your feet. No, he is sobering like a wayward breeze. His plea is so soft, and you only hate yourself a little bit for giving in and meeting his eyes.

His hair is sticking up in every direction just like yours. It’s not a foreign sight - you’ve slept in the same bed at least a hundred times, but the worried frown tugging at his lips is new. You sniffle and wipe your face, words a jumble of nonsense.

“Try to breathe. It’s going to be alright,” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll wait.”

That last part might sound impatient in some other context, but right now, it’s resolute - it’s a promise. He’ll wait until you’re ready, however long that will take.

You crumble, shakily inhaling and exhaling until you sit up to mirror his stance. You fumble to embrace him, which he accepts readily - not unused to your spontaneous acts of affection.

However, there’s a stutter in his movements. He’s not used to seeing you so put out, you hazard, unable to even produce coherent speech.

“I love you so much,” you gasp.

“...is that what this is about? Or is there more?”

Dan Heng strokes your hair through your tearful explanation. You know you don’t make a lot of sense right now, but it’s all you can manage. He still listens with scholarly attention to detail, not doting or prying. He’s here. He’s here for you, just like you are for him.

The dam has burst. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“No,” he admits. “Do you want to?”

So you tell him enough. You only paint a vague picture; recounting endless disagreements and fighting, being kicked to the curb and ostracized, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your barely adult life before being thrusted into college all alone with no one to watch out for you. You’ve only dropped hints beforehand - after all, who wants to reopen old wounds?

Silence can be just as powerful of a response as spoken words. Dan Heng understands, you know that already, but the way he holds you is compelling evidence alone.

Dan Heng’s family is wonderful; being part of it makes you feel a little sick inside, somehow made worse by his ministrations. “It may be unfair of me to say, but… I think I know how you feel. My life before I came to live and travel with everyone was lonely. Lonely and painful, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Ever.”

When you don’t respond, he continues.

“But I’m now content to call them my cherished companions. And you,” Dan Heng emphasizes, syllables unsure despite his best efforts, “are one of them as well. We haven’t pried too much into what is painful, but I’ve always felt like we’ve never needed to. That was my mistake.”

He makes a point of thumbing the residue of your episode away, an apology in and of itself. Of course he blames solely himself, you muse, biting back a playful reprimand that wouldn’t land well right now. Your breathing regains a semblance of normalcy as you muster up enough gusto to respond.

“No, don’t be silly. I want to talk to you more about our lives before each other, I think. Together, y’know? I-Isn’t that just so romantic? Being emotionally constipated doesn’t do either of us any favors.”

Your tone has lightened, enough for him to notice and furrow his brows in concern. Given, you rebound at the speed of light, never wishing to linger on the bad - partially because sadness is unpleasant and uncommon, but mostly because you feel like you’re unable to. That’s just how you are. However, the way he looks at you is encouragement enough to move forward.

You feel better, you do, but your eyes are still red and puffy. The night outside is still cold and unpredictable.

“Whatever you need,” Dan Heng nods. He can only be so sworn in his promises - so determined - before you crack a smile.

“Alright, easy on the white knight talk,” you chuckle. Realizing how close you actually are, there’s a pause. You can smell the mint of his shampoo, and your arms are tangled with his in some kind of human knot that’d have Houdini sweating. “It’s weird…”

He stares at you, unimpressed. “I thought you wanted me to talk to you in a ‘Romeo’ way.”

You only huff, unable to come up with a retort for once, which is fine. You wipe your face again and drag him down with you back onto the bed, which he allows, because Dan Heng is too good for you and also happens to be a complete pushover. At least you can use your frazzled, unstable emotional state to get what you want.

Case in point: you spoon him. The covers assume their original position after you wrangle them to behave, holding him close from behind. A little part of you does this so he can’t see if you start up the waterworks again, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’ll be alright,” Dan Heng reminds, surrendering to your whims as always.

The dust settles and you’re inclined to believe him. There is still much time left, with Christmas day being the focal point of your visit, and you’re starting to get sleepy again. That’s always a good sign; sleepy, relaxed, and with a head drained of pressing worries - at least for the present moment.

Your eyes close, bereft of tears as you murmur your agreement.

To your surprise and horror, this house didn’t have a Christmas tree. It’s not like it mattered that much, but it was still shocking nonetheless. With a building exploding with life, there wasn't an evergreen decked out in ornaments or a pine covered in lights to tie the room together.

Honestly, where were they going to put their presents?

However, you forgave this transgression a day or two later under the condition that you would be allowed to pick one out. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, with you offering to cover the cost this close to the 25th - and your determined expression that would’ve been pointless to argue with. Santa Claus works hard but you work harder.

Caelus and March jumped to go with you, much to the others’ relief, and that was more than enough hands on deck for you to hop in Caelus’s car and drive to the nearest tree farm in the dead of winter, borrowing some mittens and a cute knitted hat from March so you wouldn’t become a human popsicle before your 30s.

Uh, you did get a bit lost. You had to interrogate the shit out of the GPS and one poor local to get there; the latter was not your fault by the way! Caelus just so happened to be carrying a bat and had a concerning look in his eye. That put you in good enough standing to make it there, even if the selection of trees were picked over, leaving only the runts on sale.

All three of you turned away with your hands empty, opting to make a last minute shopping trip to the mall to buy a fake one. You were against it, but your suggestion to buy three small trees and place them really close together was vetoed. “Majority rules” is totes unfair…

But the mall trip turned into a lot more when you actually got there. Both of them ganged up on you with a reminder that you haven’t gotten Dan Heng a gift yet! Honestly, you could say you regret confessing that to them earlier, but you totally needed to hear it.

Imagine you, waking up on Christmas morning with nothing to give the love of your life! Deplorable, unforgivable, and tragically heartbreaking.

And you had a council there to help you; people that know Dan Heng just as well as you do.

“He’s so hard to shop for,” March had groaned, flicking through racks of clothes with a dark aura surrounding her. “Trust me, I’ve tried in the past. He always says he’s fine with anything, giving me zero hints…”

“Maybe get him nothing,” Caelus suggested after, more occupied with trying to steal coins from the nearby wishing fountain. Like one does. “You could run him over and he’d thank you politely.”

Similar experiences there. He’s always been more attuned to your wants than his own, which you’ve been trying to get him to work on at his own pace. Unfortunately, the place was about to close for the night since you already spent the day gallivanting around.

The burly mall security guard looked dangerously close to kicking your trio out, with at least one of you kicking and screaming, so you had to leave empty handed again.

The others assured you that you’d find a present in time. You decided to go with the flow and hope that the heavens above would drop one into your lap by the day of.

Spoiler alert: they didn’t! Because Christmas day is now here, and it all seems hopeless. Well, aside from the fact that you’re all settled around the coffee table and a big, burning fire is roaring in the fireplace.

There’s still a smile on your face as Welt and Himeko tear open their presents with wise, softened gazes. You can’t let your own mistakes ruin the moment, after all.

“Truly, thank you both,” Himeko croons, looking over her respective mug and brooch with awe. “I was prepared to perhaps play up the excitement a bit, but… I’m very impressed. Dan Heng, you’ve picked well.”

He flushes. “They helped me,” he nods to you.

“No,” she laughs, “I meant you picked a good partner.”

Before you can stammer out a reply, Welt chimes in. He’s inspecting the quality of his tie with muted gratitude - his new mug seems to only serve as a reminder that he has to drink Himeko’s coffee out of it. Hey, at least your heart was in the right place!

“I have to agree. Both of you must have collaborated seamlessly to shop for our preferences.”

Caelus, wearing his big ass jacket that you and Dan Heng bought him, sprawls out across one of the couches like a housecat. “This is a lot better than what you got me last year, Cold Dragon Young.”

Dan Heng bristles and you burst out laughing at the expression he’s making. “Cold Dragon what?”

“Ignore them,” he pleads, lips twitching upward just a smidge; a ghost of a smile. Dan Heng really does like the teasing more than he lets on.

March was almost reduced to tears by the jewelry dish you painted for her - which is more of a jewelry box at this point - but she recovers from her reverie and endless thank yous to giggle at your partner’s expense, something that’s swiftly turning into a group effort. “One time, we all got roped into fistfighting these bad guys in a club, and after Dan Heng took care of them--”

“I was left with no other choice--”

“--then that became his ring name. Cold Dragon Young!” she finishes.

Himeko and Welt exchange an exhausted look. You immediately decide that the moniker is going to become his contact name in your phone until the end of time. You also start wheezing (and also kind of blushing) at the idea of Dan Heng, the near-pacifist, duking it out with someone. “S-Sounds like you guys have been everywhere…”

“...we have,” your boyfriend clears his throat. You sense a topic change, or even a segue, drawing your attention. You sit up a little straighter and wipe the comically-induced hysteria from your eyes.

He’s looking at you expectantly with some of the earlier heat coloring the tips of his ears. The room lulls into silence as he makes his way over to the tree to retrieve a box from underneath the branches, wrapped in pastel yellow with no bow.

Dan Heng hands it over, and when your skin brushes against his for a fleeting second, you feel the clamminess of his palms.

“Oh, me next?” you blink. Shaking the thing a bit too aggressively, listening for any indication of a bomb (just in case), you get a good feel of its weight. Light and mysterious. You’re too busy making mental guesses that you don’t notice Welt shepherding the others out of the room.

“Yes. I hope you like it,” he watches as you tear open the wrapping paper and the box itself. Dan Heng is so beautiful it’s almost criminal, unintentionally batting his lashes in a way that has you swallowing drool.

You scoff. “Of course I will!”

Inside the box rests… two tickets? Your mind jumps to movie tickets first and foremost, but that’s obviously not the case; the ones here are golden with faded ridges and accented with red, sparkling as you fawn over them. Then you read the printed text lining the bottom of the thin cardstock.

The Astral Express. They’re two boarding passes.

“No way,” It’s the name of the restored steam locomotive in the picture, the very same one that Himeko told you about working on during the height of her career. “Does this mean…?”

Dan Heng drinks in the surprised part of your lips, scratching at his neck. “You mentioned that you wanted to travel. I, and the rest of us, thought you’d like to accompany us on a trip. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine,” he promises. “I can get refunded, and we’ll all stay. But it’s scheduled to start the day after tomorrow and last until the new year.”

You don’t want to cry again, even if they’re happy tears, so you launch yourself into his arms as a welcome distraction. You may be imagining it, but you think you feel him slump in relief. Again. How long will it take to get it through his thick skull that he could never disappoint you?

“Duh, of course I want to! Darling, what kind of jerk would I be if I said no and made everyone cancel their plans? Oh my god, oh my god--”

“You m-may want to breathe.”

His concern is so genuine - that’s not even meant to be teasing. You scream into his shoulder, already thinking of nights spent in velvet cabins and days spent watching the cross-country scenery go by on the silver rail. With good food. Lots of it.

“I’m breathing,” you huff, in fact, short of breath. “Thank you, Dan Heng. I love it so much.”

You pull back, box and tickets still safe in your grasp despite your earlier flailing. The magical moment fizzles, your joy stunted as guilt emerges. “But I… I didn’t get you anything. I’m so sorry, we shopped all over, and everything’s been so hectic…”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I meant what I said.”

“Huh?”

“When we were shopping all that time ago,” he clarifies. “I don’t need anything but you. And with the others coming along,” Dan Heng gestures to the tickets, everyone else’s likely stowed away somewhere safe, “It’s the best gift I could ask for, more than I could ever want.”

You don’t rebut him this time.

The guilt has all but vanished, and you pull Dan Heng into a tender kiss. This has, no joke, probably been the best break of your life so far. Not to mention you have a whole new trip to look forward to, with a whole new family at your side.

Just as you think this perfect moment is unshakable, hoots and jeers break out from behind you. You whip around, dazed, and Caelus is cheering both of you on like his life depends on it.

“Wooooo! I told you they’d like it, dude! May your love burn bright for years to co--”

…then March clamps a hand over his mouth and hauls him away.

Dan Heng is so embarrassed that he chokes on a laugh. You make sure to join him in kind, the present moment also holding the infinite possibilities of the future.

thank you for reading! it means the world to me 🎅🎁

#hvntersecretsanta #✧ my writing #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x you #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #dan heng x gn!reader

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starkeyslibrary · 2 days ago

Text

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 9.5

pairing: you x drew starkey

happy christmas eve to those celebrating!

The Next Weekend:

The weekend arrived faster than you expected. Drew had been tight-lipped about the details, but his excitement was evident in every text and call leading up to the trip. You had packed the night before – just a small bag, something simple for a couple of days away from the city. You weren’t sure what to expect, but something about Drew his excitement, the way he’d planned everything, gave her a sense of peace.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your thoughts. It was a text from Drew.

Drew: I’m outside, whenever you’re ready.

Your heart gave a little jolt. You quickly typed back:

You: I’ll be right down.

You quickly dressed in a cozy sweater, jeans, and a pair of uggs, before grabbing your bag and heading downstairs. When you stepped outside, you saw Drew’s car parked.

He kissed your forehead the moment he saw you, the simple gesture making you feel both giddy and calm at the same time. "Hey," he said, his voice warm, his eyes lighting up the moment they locked onto yours. "Ready for the weekend?"

"I’m ready," you said, your smile mirroring his.

He opened the car door for you, and as you climbed in, he followed suit and slid into the driver’s seat. The drive was peaceful, the city slowly slipping away as you headed into the mountains, the scenery becoming more and more picturesque as we went.

When we reached their destination, it was a charming cabin nestled on the edge of a wooded area. The air was crisp and fresh, the kind of cold that bit at your cheeks but felt invigorating. Drew parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door.

You stepped out, taking in the beauty of the place. The cabin was cozy, with a large stone fireplace and windows that overlooked a vast stretch of trees and distant mountains. It felt like the world was miles away from the life they had back in the city.

"This place is amazing," you said, full of wonder.

Drew smiled, his hand brushing against yours as he led you inside. "I’m glad you like it. I thought it might be the perfect place for us to… reconnect."

You spent the afternoon exploring the area around the cabin, walking along trails that led you deeper into the woods, surrounded by the beauty of the snow-capped peaks. Drew was more present than he had ever been. He listened to your stories, laughed at your jokes, and simply enjoyed your company. There was no rushing, no pressure—just the two of you, rediscovering each other.

At one point, we found a quiet spot by a small stream. The water flowed gently, its rhythmic sound adding a peaceful soundtrack to our conversation. Drew reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The touch was so tender, it made your heart skip a beat.

You turned your head slightly, locking eyes with him. There was a warmth in Drew’s gaze that made you feel safe.

Without a word, Drew leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your skin, his lips brushing yours before deepening into a soft, lingering kiss. When we pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the cool air.

"I’m sorry for everything that happened before," Drew whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve learned so much. I’ll show you, Y/N. I’ll show you every day how much you mean to me."

Your heart swelled at his words, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "I believe you," you whispered back, before giving him another quick kiss, this time playful, a soft peck that lingered on his lips for just a second longer than necessary.

You lingered by the stream, the quiet rush of water filling the silence between us. The chill of the evening began to seep into your jackets, urging you to return. As you stepped back into the cabin, the warmth wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the crackling fire and scent of pine creating a sharp contrast to the crisp, cold air outside.

The crackling fire filled the cozy cabin with a comforting warmth as you leaned back against the couch, a soft blanket draped over your lap. The smell of pine and the distant rustle of the forest outside made the world feel miles away. Drew, seated next to you, stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder.

“You know,” he said with a mischievous grin, breaking the comfortable silence, “I had this whole grand romantic gesture planned, but… I think I’m going to go with Plan B.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Plan B? Should I be concerned?”

He chuckled and stood, holding out a hand to you. “Not at all. Trust me.”

Curiosity sparked, you took his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and after a few swipes, music began to play. It was a soft, playful melody—something you recognized instantly: a song from a cheesy rom-com you’d once watched together.

Your jaw dropped. “No way. This is Plan B?”

Drew smirked, bowing dramatically. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he straightened up, extending his hand toward you. “Drew, you’re ridiculous,” you said, but you slipped your hand into his anyway.

He pulled you close, wrapping one arm around your waist as he began to sway—horribly off-beat, intentionally so. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly spontaneous,” he teased, twirling you with an exaggerated flourish that nearly made you trip.

“Charming? Debatable,” you shot back, grinning as you steadied yourself. “Spontaneous? Definitely.”

As the song played on, Drew started humming along, intentionally missing every high note and mixing up the lyrics in the most absurd way possible. You couldn’t stop laughing, your cheeks aching from the grin plastered on your face.

“You’re a terrible singer,” you managed between giggles.

He grinned, spinning you again. “And yet, here you are, dancing with me anyway.”

The song slowed, and so did the two of you, the laughter fading into a quiet, tender moment as you both swayed to the music.

Later that night, as Drew walked you to your bedroom in the cabin, he lingered in the doorway. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Goodnight,” you replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Drew?”

“Yeah?” He turned back, hopeful.

You took a deep breath, your hand gripping the doorframe. “Thank you. For being patient. For making me laugh. For tonight.”

His smile was soft, genuine. “Anytime,” he said simply, before heading to his own room.

As you closed the door behind you, a small, hopeful smile spread across your lips. For the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you were moving toward something real.

You tossed and turned under the covers, staring at the ceiling as moonlight poured through the window. The cabin was quiet, save for the faint creaks of wood settling in the cold night air, but your mind was anything but calm.

With a sigh, you sat up, hugging the blanket around your shoulders. Your chest felt heavy, like something was missing. And you knew exactly what it was.

You hesitated for a moment before slipping out of bed and padding quietly down the hall to Drew’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and the soft sound of his even breathing greeted you as you pushed it open.

Drew was lying on his side, the blanket pulled halfway up his chest, his face peaceful in the moonlight. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him. It was a rare thing, seeing him so calm, so unguarded.

“Y/N?” His voice was groggy, barely above a whisper, as his eyes blinked open and focused on you. “Is everything okay?”

You shifted awkwardly, clutching the blanket around you. “Yeah, I just…” You hesitated, feeling vulnerable but pushing forward. “I couldn’t sleep. I—” You took a breath. “I missed you.”

Drew sat up slightly, his brow furrowing as if trying to make sense of your words through the haze of sleep. Then, a soft, knowing smile spread across his face. “Come here,” he murmured, lifting the edge of his blanket in invitation.

You didn’t hesitate this time, crossing the room and climbing into bed beside him. The warmth of his body enveloped you as he pulled the blanket over both of you. His arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“Better?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “Much better.”

He chuckled lightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You don’t have to miss me, you know. I’m right here.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension in your body slowly melt away. “I know,” you murmured. “I just… needed this.”

Drew pressed a kiss to your hair, his embrace tightening slightly. “Me too,” he admitted quietly.

In the stillness of the night, wrapped in Drew’s arms, you felt the weight of your doubts begin to lift. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you could start to heal.

And as sleep finally claimed you, the last thing you heard was Drew’s soft, whispered promise: “I’ve got you, Y/N. Always.”

The next morning, you woke up to sunlight streaming through the cabin’s large windows. The world outside was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, and the air felt fresh and pure. You turned over to find Drew still asleep beside you, his features soft and relaxed in the quiet of the morning.

You felt at peace. No past mistakes, no regrets—just the present, and the possibility of something beautiful.

Drew stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and when he saw you, a slow smile spread across his face. "Morning," he said, his voice husky from sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart warming at the sight of him. You reached out and gently traced his jawline, your fingers grazing over the familiar stubble. "I don’t think I’ve ever woken up feeling this… content."

Drew pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead. "Let’s make sure it stays that way," he whispered.

You closed your eyes, holding onto the feeling of his arms around you, the comfort of knowing that, no matter what, we were taking it one step at a time. Together.

Later that day, after a quiet breakfast—this time cooked by you instead of Drew—you packed your things and prepared to head back to the city. The weekend had been nothing short of transformative, filled with moments of laughter, vulnerability, and reconnection.

The drive back was a peaceful one, the hum of the car filling the space between them. Drew had one hand resting on the steering wheel, his other hand reaching across the console to hold yours. His thumb traced lazy circles against your skin.

You glanced at him, his fingers intertwined with yours, grounding you in a calm you hadn’t felt in ages. It amazed you how something as simple as holding his hand could make you feel so safe, so grounded.

“You okay?” Drew asked softly, his eyes briefly flicking toward her before returning to the road.

"You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking."

“About what?” he asked, his tone curious but gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, then said, “About how nice this weekend was. About how much I needed it.”

Drew smiled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Me too,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize how much I missed us until… well, until this.”

You looked back out the window, your heart swelling at his words. You didn’t want to get your hopes up when we first planned this weekend, but now, as we drove toward my apartment, you realized how much you wanted to keep building on what we’d started to rebuild.

They pulled up to the curb in front of your building, the lights of the city casting a soft glow across the interior of the car. Drew turned off the engine, his hand resting on the keys for a moment before he looked over at you.

The quiet hum of the city surrounded them, but in the small space of the car, it felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us.

“I had a great time this weekend,” Drew said, his voice low but rich with emotion. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, it was as though he was looking straight into her soul.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There was something in his voice—an honesty, a vulnerability—that made your heart ache in the best possible way. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came. All you could do was nod, your smile soft and full of unspoken emotion.

Drew stepped out of the car and came around to your side before you even had a chance to move. He opened her door, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he helped you out. The warmth of his touch lingered, and as we walked toward my building, the air between us felt charged, thick with something unspoken.

We stopped in front of the elevator, the soft ding of its arrival breaking the silence. Drew set your bag down and turned to you, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with something unmistakable.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you go, there’s something I need to say.”

You turned to face him fully, her heart pounding. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, as though gathering his courage. Then, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you even as your heart raced.

“I love you,” he said, his voice raw, his words trembling with sincerity. “I’ve loved you for a long time. And this weekend… it just reminded me how much. You don’t have to say it back, and I don’t want to rush you. But I needed you to know.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling in your eyes at the sheer emotion in his voice. You saw it all in his face—the longing, the hope, the vulnerability. He wasn’t just saying it; he was offering it to you, baring his soul in a way that left her utterly speechless.

Your hand moved instinctively to cover his, holding it against your cheek as your lips curved into a trembling smile. “Drew,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. “I…”

But before you could finish, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His touch was electrifying, his fingers pressing into your hips as though anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled apart, “I mean it,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m here. For however long it takes, I’m here.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks, but you didn’t care. You smiled through them, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “I’m getting there. I promise.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “That’s all I need to hear.”

And then, without another word, you leaned in. The kiss was everything—passionate, deep, full of everything we hadn’t been able to say. It was slow at first, hesitant, but then it grew more urgent, more hungry. Drew’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with an intensity that left you breathless. His fingers slid lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him, the heat between us growing with every second. The sensation of his hands on you made your heart race, every inch of your body responding to him.

You moaned softly into the kiss as our tongues met, the chemistry between us undeniable. Drew's grip tightened around your waist. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you felt a longing that had been buried for too long.

We pulled apart, breathless, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breath. You looked up at him, your chest heaving. Your voice was a soft whisper, barely audible in the cool night air.

You hesitated for only a moment before you said, voice soft but steady, “Do you want to come up?”

For a split second, Drew’s eyes darkened with longing, but then he shook his head gently. “Not yet,” he said, his hand moving to cup your face again. “I don’t want to rush this. Don’t want to rush you. When it happens, I want it to be because you’re absolutely ready.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at the patience and respect in his tone. You nodded, your hand resting over his. “You really are incredible, you know that?” You said with a soft smile.

He chuckled softly, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You make it easy.”

With that, he stepped back, his hands falling reluctantly to his sides as the elevator doors opened behind you. You stepped inside, her heart still pounding as she turned to face him.

As the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off your view of Drew, something shifted within you. The thought of leaving him standing there, waiting patiently once again, made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t ignore. You pressed the button to stop the elevator, and the doors reopened with a soft chime.

Drew was still there, exactly where you’d left him, his hands in his pockets, looking slightly surprised as the doors revealed you once more. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The city’s sounds hummed softly in the background, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart.

“Y/N?” he asked, taking a cautious step toward you. “Did you forget something?”

You stepped out of the elevator, closing the distance between you. “Yeah,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “I forgot that I don’t want to keep waiting. I’m tired of holding back when I know how I feel.”

Drew’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak, but you didn’t give him the chance. Your hand reached up, cupping his cheek, and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was everything—the culmination of everything you’d been holding inside. It wasn’t hesitant or tentative; it was bold and certain, filled with the love you’d been too scared to fully admit until now.

He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. The kiss deepened, a quiet hum of relief and passion passing between you as the world around you seemed to fade away. There was no past, no future—just this moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, you rested your forehead against his. His hands remained on your waist, grounding you as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“I love you, Drew,” you said, the words spilling out with a confidence you hadn’t expected. “I’ve always loved you. I never stopped, even after everything that had happened. I was just… afraid. But I’m done running.”

Drew’s expression softened, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I promise, Y/N, I’ll never give you a reason to run again.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but they were tears of joy, not sadness. You nodded, your hand covering his where it rested on your face. “I believe you,” you whispered.

He smiled—a real, unguarded smile that made your chest ache in the best way. “So,” he said, his tone lightening just a fraction as he held out his hand, “what do you say we go upstairs and start building that future together?”

You glanced at his hand, then back at his face, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and hope. Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his. “I’d like that.”

This time, when the two of you stepped into the elevator, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise of a fresh start.

As the elevator ascended, Drew squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. And when the doors opened to your floor, the two of you walked out together, side by side, ready to face whatever came next.

Because this time, you weren’t just stepping into the future—you were doing it together.

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