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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

heart attack!

description: han jisung can charm any heart if he wants to but he just wants one, whether he admits it to your face or not.

member: jisung / han

genre: fluff, fantasy, rivals to lovers au, childhood friends to lovers au, witch / wizard au (sugar sugar rune-inspired), royal au, college au, roommates / housemates au, slice of life format, a side of hwang siblings, sunshine twins, cousin chan, and minchan (!!)

word count: 25.1k i’m so sorry

warnings: explicit language, alcohol, some mentions of injuries, a brief episode of someone getting abducted, mentions of a creep being,,,well a creep at public transportation, self-indulgent tooth-rotting cheesiness, idk if i should put a warning for unconscious emotional manipulation but im gonna write that in here anw

note: idk if i want to write little drabbles w this same pairing again since it ended up being so long but i kinda lost the plot halfway lmao lmk if u guys want additional lil drabbles for this hehe + again happy 1k yay!

You don’t always get along with Han Jisung, crown prince of the Eastern Kingdom, for reasons you simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that you have. He loves annoying you for the sake of getting a reaction, bratty as far as a wizard prince goes, and prideful among many traits that you were forced to grow up alongside with.

These days, however, you hate the way that he is the only other candidate alongside yourself for the High Crown of the magical world. As if fate didn't just want the two of you to butt heads in school and at royal social functions all the time, suddenly you're pushed to compete with him for something much greater.

For the record, though, it's tradition that all firstborn heirs of the 4 major kingdoms are considered eligible for the highest throne that unites all of your domains. You were going to compete with him either way, just with other people initially involved. However, with prince Hyunjin of the Southern kingdom mysteriously disappearing over a month ago and princess Lia of the Western kingdom subsequently refusing the candidacy, suddenly there was only you and the Eastern prince for the high jury to challenge in their Crown Candidacy exam. Fate and circumstance clearly love you with the way Jisung is always in your line of sight when all you want for yourself is to not be on the receiving end of his teasings and competititve streak all the time.

Though you yourself didn't desire the High Crown at first, the elders continuously pressuring you eventually pushed you into accepting the task. Plus, knowing that it's Jisung—the brat who pulled on your hair during those silly etiquette lessons the high jury made you and the other royals take as kids and embarrassed you when you once confessed your past crush to him in middle school—who would be automatically crowned without a test if Hyunjin isn't found in time and you also refuse made you go forward with it. After all, as much as you personally don't want to answer to Jisung as the next High King, you also think that entrusting the entire magical realm to him is simply not right. You would know, you had to grow up with him.

So, here you are on the night that the Crown Candidacy exam begins, receiving the final blessing from your mother and the high jury with Jisung who has been sneakily trying to poke on your side and get a reaction out of you since the ceremony began. If 15 elders and your mentors aren't surrounding the two of you with their scrutinizing eyes right this very moment, you would've easily snapped on the first poke and blasted the blue-haired boy.

"Stop that," You instead gritted your teeth next to him with the 17th poke to your waist, lowering your voice that only he can hear. "Ji, I swear to the gods—"

Among the circle of witches and wizards chanting ritual protection spells over the two of you, your mentor Younghyun glares at you and Jisung as if in a non-verbal scolding that the two of you should stop "playing around" as he would usually word it. You simply roll your eyes at this in response, earning you more quizzical looks from the other elders.

You also hate the way that Han Jisung keeps stringing you into his antics as his favourite person to mess with. If anything, you're most often in trouble with the elders because of him.

"This part of the ceremony is so unnecessary. I'm bored" He murmurs tiredly under his breath, bringing his hands back inside his black cape and pushing his shoulders back as he stands up straighter once more. "It's not like humans can hurt us. We're the magical ones, hello? Besides, the jury’s already cut the one-year exam by half. What could even happen in that time?”

"Stray monsters can still hunt you there if you don’t stand still." You correct immediately, earning you a look from your own mother this time as she finishes leading the last of the spells. At this point in your unwanted association with him, you don't even care much anymore that you get in trouble because you entertain his antics. You just want him to shut up. "Whatever. It's done."

The prince then giddily springs up in place once all of the spells are casted, suddenly looking more awake than the past 5 minutes of ceremony. "Finally! Okay, thanks for that! We'll be going now!"

"Wait." Your mother calmly interrupts him, perfectly hiding her slight annoyance over you and Jisung as she whips out her blue wand from the pockets of her ceremonial robes. "For the high jury to properly tally the ecure that you'll collect in the human world after this task, we'll be providing you with vessels to keep them."

As she mentions the vessels, a sapphire locket and an emerald ring materialize in front of you and Jisung respectively before settling at the palms of your hands. You're then quick to notice the way that the diamond-cut sapphire encrusted at the center of your locket emits warmth as you place it around your neck, indicating its magical properties.

"These vessels have been modified further to record everything that you collect and any spell or potion that you might use them on while undertaking in this task." Your mother then continues. Simultaneously, Younghyun gestures for you and Jisung to mount your brooms and prepare to fly off into the yellow crescent moon where the portal to the human world lies on its other side. "Though the ecure that you lose is not counted in the final tally, knowing how you used or lost them also contributes to the jury's examination of your magical skills and knowledge."

Jisung chuckles, bumping the bristle end of his broom with yours playfully. "And to see what kind of trouble we'll get ourselves into, right?"

In response, you simply roll your eyes. Your mother, on the other hand, purposely tunes out Jisung's usual antics and continues, "Remember, this exam will determine the next monarch that unites all of the 4 major domains. Collect as much ecure as you can from the humans in the 6 months that you're given with them and you will be rewarded greatly. Until then, have a safe journey to the human world, candidates."

With that, you and Jisung push yourselves off from the castle balcony, heading straight to the crescent moon.

"Last to the other side is a lousy flyer!" Jisung yells playfully into the quiet night, speeding ahead before you could even process his words. “And has to pay for a meal sometime!”

"Ya! Han Jisung!" You increase your speed yourself anyway despite knowing that his words don’t have any ill meaning, catching up to him with ease just as the two of you pass into the portal. “I paid for the meals last time!”

Han Jisung isn't always fond of you, the heir to the Northern Kingdom, for reasons he simply can't limit to the number of fingers and toes that he has. He thinks you're too uptight (especially in the presence of the high jury and the other elders of the bigger royal circle), easily irritable, and surprisingly a bit of a pushover to your kingdom's advisors ever since your cousin, Chan, renounced his royal title and settled in the human world.

These days, however, he hates the way that you've suddenly taken up an interest in competing for the high crown of the magical world alongside him even when you've made it clear countless times before that you only wanted to rule your own kingdom. You only started showing interest after Lia formally refused her candidacy and the elders pushed you more into changing your mind, clearly hinting that you don't want Jisung to automatically be crowned High King.

Do they really think that terribly of me? Jisung has resorted to thinking a lot about these days, even now as the two of you arrive at Chan’s place where you would be staying for the duration of the test. I make a good high king as much as I do the king of my own people! Hmp!

It shouldn't bother him this much, it's just you anyway. But at the same time, it bothers him for this very same reason: because it's you, the know-it-all who always busted his antics to the teachers back in school and embarrassed him to his friends when you confessed your past crush to him back in middle school. Jisung hates the way you challenge and compel him to be petty and competitive all the time, especially in the little things. Like right now, as the two of you argue on who gets the bigger bedroom in Chan's house right after you arrived.

"You know, I was just holding back a while ago because we were in front of the elders but I swear, I won't hesitate to blast you now that we're away." You warn as you try your best to stare him down while he blocks the bedroom door you both want. You have your hands raised to the side, sparks of a spell encircling our fingers and the space between your hands. "Move, Jisung!"

Still, Jisung stubbornly refuses. You two have bickered enough to last you all of your lifetimes and for him to know that you won't really do it. "I was here first! You go to the other room!"

The blue ball of energy in your hands begins to shape itself into a more tangible shape as your brows furrow even deeper in frustration. "But I called dibs on this room to Chan firs—!"

Before you could finish your words, however, Chan peeks his head out from the opposite end of the hallway with a pile of blankets in his hands. "You two still going at it? It's almost 2 AM." He teases in feigned disapproval, approaching the two of you to throw a blanket each of your way. "Come on, give it up, Sung. Y/N gets the big room."

Jisung's initial smug expression contorts into disbelief in an instant while you celebrate with a wide grin and a teasing tongue stuck out at him. "What?!"

"Ha! Thanks, Channie!" You clasp your hands together in satisfaction, the red sparks in your hands disappearing into thin air as you do so, before pushing the paralyzed Jisung out of the way and locking yourself in the bedroom. Once Jisung's pulled himself together at the betrayal, you then briefly peek your head out of the door, sticking your tongue out for the last time before greeting the two boys with a quick, "Goodnight!"

Jisung glares and purses his lips in front of Chan who chuckles at this. "Hyung!" He whines, grabbing the older boy by his biceps and shaking him wildly like how a child would throw a tantrum. "I don't see you for three years and when I do, I get treated like this?!"

"Exactly." Chan nods with an amused smile, tugging Jisung to his side and leading him to his room across from yours. "Y/N was kind enough to visit me here while you didn't even send a letter. I think that's enough to give them the big room."

"Aah, but you already know why I couldn't! I was busy with all the prince stuff!"

"Y/N was too, though? And they’re doing twice the work than you."

"But Y/N's more organized than me!"

"So you agree? My cousin earned the bigger room?"

"No, it’s not th—aish! Bang Chan!" When the older boy in question tries pushing Jisung back to the smaller bedroom, the latter childishly protests by gripping onto the doorframe. "I'm making it up to you now! I'm literally staying here for 6 months!"

"Yeah and I'll definitely treat you to lots of other things for that later. Seriously, Ji, give it a rest. It's just your temporary room for the exam." Chan sighs with a tired laugh, prying the younger wizard's hands off of the doorframe and shoving him inside the room. "Unpack your things and get some sleep. We're having a welcoming party for you two on the weekend."

"You're supposed to side with me here."

"Don't pull that face, you're not kids anymore." Chan chuckles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "And I'm not siding with anyone. It’s just a room! Night, Sungie."

Jisung opens his mouth to protest, only for Chan to close the door on him and walk back to his own room. With a sigh, the boy defeatedly trudges to his new bed and, after taking out his expandable pouch from his pockets, jumps to the mattress with a muffled groan to the plush pillows.

Jisung also hates how one of his best friends favors you better just because you're cousins first. He's had enough of Chan coddling you before from when you were kids, always taking your side when the two of you bicker and offering you his extra food when the three of you are together, and he would much prefer it if he doesn't see it now that the two of you are undergoing an important exam.

"At least the view's nice." He pouts to himself once he's seated up once more, facing the window that overlooks the city. After just spending ten minutes flying over Seoul and exploring Chan's vast mansion, Jisung gets it a little now. Chan definitely didn't choose this realm over their home for no reason.

If I'm not in line to be king, Jisung thinks to himself, this life also seems nice.

Hovering his hands over the enchanted green pouch, its neatly packed contents of clothes and other personal belongings then emerge from its seemingly tiny space before levitating to their respective places. "Aish, that Y/N!" Jisung yells loudly on purpose, leaning on his side closer to the door to hear your reaction.

Across the hall, while you make a fuss out of unpacking and changing the appearance of some furniture, you yell back, "Shut up, Ji!"

Jisung has many reasons for disliking you at times but, if anything, he lives for your reactions when he purposely annoys you. Even when he knows you’re always a spell away from actually snapping at him, you never actually do and it never fails to amuse him. Scoffing, he lets it slide for now and quietly unpacks.

If attending social functions as a royal has taught you anything over the years, it's to avoid being within reach of Jisung at a party before, during, and after he makes a huge mess of things. You've had your own fair share of spilled drinks to your dress robes, purposely getting embarrassed in front of the elders and other important public officials, and even a huge fight over not wanting to be his dance partner to remind you of this at all times.

Of the places that you and Jisung have to be standing next to each other, it's the parties that you hate having to see him at the most because they bring you nothing but trouble. Chan's welcoming party for the two of you, with witches and wizards living in the human world as well as Chan's own human friends in attendance, is no exception.

"What do you think he's going to do this time?" Yeji snickers next to you on the makeshift dance floor of the house's backyard. Ever since her brother disappeared, she's been staying in the human world combing through every inch of Seoul and trying to retrace what is little known of the steps he took. Naturally, you've stuck to each other like glue since she arrived. "It's been two hours since this party started and all he's doing is—"

"Flirt with every human on the dance floor. I know, that's why I'm not looking over my shoulder. I think that's all he's planning to do in this party, given that we've started with the test." You frown, taking a sip of your beer as the song changes to a more lively one. "This guy's never taken any exam back in school seriously but now he suddenly wants to win this one exam. Weird, right?"

"Hm, maybe he really wants to win this exam and become high king. You can never really tell what goes on in that head of his." Yeji shrugs, blinking twice in quick succession to make her eyes turn red, an indication that she's scanning the venue for the humans' ecures. "Anyway, he's definitely working hard. I see a lot of orange hearts for him as much as there are for you."

Only then do you also turn your head around the place, your own eyes turning blue as you collect the orange hearts of infatuation and green hearts of friendship that people you've met tonight have for you with a non-verbal spell. As you catch these little crystal hearts into your locket, you briefly catch a glimpse of Jisung at one of the foldable tables chatting with three human girls. It somehow irritates you.

"He never lost that cringey fuckboy persona, huh?" Yeji points out once you're done with your collecting, shaking her now empty bottle and frowning once she realizes that it's already empty. "I guess I didn't miss out on much even after being away for a few weeks."

"You talk like you were gone for a year, not 3 weeks." You laugh. When she then asks you if you want to get new beer bottles, you follow her back to the coolers behind Chan's DJ set. "I hate how we'll be seeing more of those again when we start attending uni to collect more hearts."

"Oh, right! You're attending mine, right? You'll be with me, Seungmin, and Ryujin?" When you nod once more, she links her arms with yours and adds, “Gosh, I can just see it now, girls from the different departments flocking the two of you on the first day but especially Sung. A lot of girls I know from uni really dig that e-boy thing he has going on."

You pretend to gag, making her throw her head back in a cackle of laughs. "Humans and their weird tastes in men." You scrunch up your nose, the two of you briefly pausing to politely wave at Chan as you pass by his booth.

Your cousin doesn't hesitate to wave back at you both before going back to his spinning. You and Yeji then head to the back of his area where the coolers of different beverages have been placed.

"Oh shush, didn't you too also have a crush on him way back then?" Yeji teases the moment the two of you are alone again, opening the cooler with a simple flick of her hand. You follow along despite the glare you send her way, your empty beer bottles getting replaced by new ones. "Sometimes, Ryujin and I like to think that you still have a little bit of that."

"No way." You shake your head in denial, picking up a bottle opener from one of the closed coolers and using it over yours and Yeji's. "Middle school was a long time ago. Jisung just irritates the hell out of me now."

"Who irritates who now?" A voice behind you perks up almost immediately, causing you to jump and spill a little of your beer on the grass. When you glance over your shoulder, Jisung's white bucket hat comes into your vision, eventually uncovering his mischievous smile. "Ah, so clumsy. Look, you spilled a little beer on the grass.”

Next to you, Yeji giggles behind her hand while greeting Jisung. You glare at her in response.

"You're annoying." You point out with a pout, thrusting the bottle opener to his chest before linking arms with Yeji. "We're going."

Jisung only shrugs with a smirk, waving goodbye to Yeji as the two of you pass by him to go back to the dance floor. "It makes you look, doesn't it?"

"Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that." You roll your eyes before disappearing back into the crowd with Yeji.

Once Jisung is out of earshot, Yeji then nudges your side with your linked arms. "I'm telling you, there's still a little something. Deep, deep down there." She teases in a singsong. “That’s probably why the banter just won’t die out.”

"Nope, definitely not." You shake your head. "Have you been watching too much of those human dramas while you’re here? It’s playing with your judgement."

It comes even as a surprise to Jisung himself that he hasn't caused a major mishap in this welcoming party so far. Since the majority of the guests started arriving two hours ago, he hasn't done anything troubling besides losing to Ryujin at beer pong and finishing a whole red cup of Chan's jungle juice concoction as punishment almost an hour ago.

It doesn't bother his "instincts for mischief" that much—his mentor's words not his. It means that he's more focused on collecting ecures at the moment with the amount of humans he's mingled with at this party, especially the girls who have taken it upon themselves to flirt with him.

What does bother him slightly, however, is the way you occasionally glance over to him knowingly from across the lawn, as if you're expecting him to do something. You always seem to do that after years of getting roped into his troubles, much like a lot of your childhood friends who'd frequently end up in similar predicaments. Somehow, however, it's always intimidating when it's you looking at him. He personally hates that, the look in your eyes when you're trying to catch him in his mischievous acts.

"Who are you and what have you done to my twin brother?" Felix has been teasing the entire night every time he encounters Jisung. When Jisung pouts this time, while the two share a drink on a couch that was brought out for this party, Felix laughs over his drink and adds, "Oh, so you're really focused on this test, huh? No trouble until this party's over?"

"Why do you guys think I'm not?" Jisung frowns, elbowing his brother by his side. "Geez, Lix, you're supposed to root for me here. If I win, you get to be king too."

In response, Felix waves his solo cup dismissively. "No, no, I think you're doing great! You've caught how much already? Twenty hearts in this party? That's a great start, bro." He comments with a proud smile. "It's just a little new, seeing you all so serious and focused. It's not because you're up against Y/N, right?"

"Ha? Nope, definitely not. It's barely a competition when I'm clearly winning." Jisung shakes his head a little too defensively as he sinks into the soft velvet couch. "I just think it's natural that another kingdom should get the high crown this time and since it's only me and Y/N competing, unless we also find Hyunjin while we're here I should work hard and make it happen."

Just then, Seungmin sits down on his other side with a cup of punch and a small paper plate of sweets from the chocolate fountain. "If Hyunjin was here, he would've whipped your asses in this party by getting all of the human guys and girls with one smile." He points out matter-of-factly. "Plus, if Lia accepted the candidacy, all three of you would've lost even before you left home."

"You never really rooted for me, huh, Minnie?" Jisung feigns sad eyes as he rests his head on Seungmin's shoulder. "And here I thought we're best friends."

"Oh no, I'm totally rooting for you now." Seungmin replies with a dry chuckle, passing his paper plate over to Felix when he holds his hands out in a motion asking for food. "But if the gang was complete, I would've changed to team Hyunjin."

Jisung scoffs at this, swiping a marshmallow covered in chocolate from Seungmin's plate. "Fine, I won’t hold it against you. I miss Hyunjin too."

"Yeji and Chae are doing everything they can to look for him. He'll turn up somewhere, he just has to. Until then, you should just focus more on your exam. Hyunnie would want that." Felix quips in before turning his attention over to you and Yeji at the nearby karaoke mini bar. "Look, that's what Y/N and Yeji are doing right now."

When Jisung looks through the crowd that has gathered around you, his eyes turning a deep green, he sees a lot of orange hearts gravitate over to you, mostly from the uni boys and girls that Yeji, Seungmin, and Ryujin have invited to this party.

"You guys are seeing it too, right?" Felix asks, his own eyes a matching shade of green when he tilts his head over to Seungmin and Jisung. "At least twenty new hearts in a span of 10 minutes, right after they just gave Y/N a bunch of green hearts."

Seungmin nods, his head movements making Jisung's head shake a little on his shoulder. "Yeah. Y/N's really working extra on this." He notes in complete awe. "The competition's really close, don't you think so Lix?"

"Definitely. What do you think, Ji?"

"Nope, definitely not." Jisung crosses his arms and shakes his head in disagreement. "It's impressive but not enough to catch up to me."

But the smallest hint of a frown gracing his features is enough to give his feelings away to his friends. Only now does it fully sink in that it’s definitely a tight competition between the two of you.

one out of six months

At one point, you understood why people would foolishly fall for Jisung. On a really good day, when he's not causing you or anyone too much trouble, you could see his playful side as charming, maybe even too cute for you to admit it out loud. A long time ago, back when you were still so naïve, you had a small playground crush on him too, after all; a crush that ended so badly you're convinced it's where your bickering naturally escalated.

But now, as your days in the human world turn into a month spent fulfilling your Crown Candidacy exam at university with your friends, you just wish that not a lot of humans are so insanely attracted to Jisung. It's nothing personal, of course, you're not jealous at all in that way. Whenever you sit in the library to study, attend classes from late in the morning to early afternoons, or even just sit in the quad with your shared friend group discussing updates on Yeji's search for Hyunjin, however, your competitor is just always being followed by flocks of smitten girls with their orange and pink ecures of crushes on their sleeves, ready to be collected by Jisung's emerald ring.

And you're not going to get started on the rainbow-colored hearts that send him little gifts and love letters at least once a week before classes, sometimes even directly to Chan's house where the third kitchen fridge is now filled with bakery goods stashed along with Chan's fan gifts. Not wanting to admit it to him or any of your friends, you're admittedly quite jealous because he attracts the ecures from the humans so easily while you have to work extra harder in socializing with your human peers to garner even just pink hearts. You hate having to work extra, extra harder just to be on par with him all the time, especially when he seems to be effortless in his ways.

"Before Lix went back to the magical realm, he relayed that Changbin from back home suggested that we start expanding our search for Hyunjin to—" For the sixth time since your group met up at the quad after classes this particular afternoon, another group of girls pass by and greet Jisung, interrupting Yeji in her explanations. Pouting slightly, she then turns to Jisung and pokes him with her pen, snapping the smirk off of his face. "Sung, focus."

Jisung nods quickly, waving Yeji's pen away from his side. "Yeah, let me just collect their hearts real quick."

You roll your eyes in response, nudging Yeji to resume her updates. "Just go on, Yeji." You encourage her, Seungmin and Ryujin nodding along in agreement. For emphasis, you make sure to tap Jisung's hand on the grass with your own pen harshly, making him wince dramatically in pain. "You're extending the search to Incheon, right?"

"Oh, uh yeah. Like I said, Lix said that Changbin suggested Incheon since Hyunjin briefly mentioned it in one of his letters. We'll start looking into it ourselves before this semester is over." Yeji continues on, ignoring the next group of passing girls that Jisung gets distracted over again this time around. "Chaeryoung is going there in the following months, though, to scout the places first. Then, we'll try and follow up with a search of our own. I'll have to ask Chan and the jury back at home if you and Jisung are allowed to go, though, since you're taking your exam."

"Among those places, Hyunjin often went to this stretch of the beach because he was investigating a monster from home who escaped here and took an artifact from our kingdom." Seungmin added, pointing to a location on Yeji's map sprawled over your laptops at the very center of your circle. "It was one of his last assignments here before he suddenly disappeared. We'll probably stay here the longest."

You try your best to listen, adding your own inputs to how your search operations would go while also noticing a couple of people who recognize you and wave your way, but Jisung somehow keeps grabbing your attention by the way he entertains his admirers who greet him shyly as they pass by you group. The playful smirks he sends their way, the polite waves, and the way his hand keeps twitching in between the two of you as he collects the ecures with his own spell keep eating away at your attention span, pressuring you that he's taking the lead in your race.

You also try discreetly collecting your own share of hearts under your breath whenever someone you know passes by but you eventually find it hard finding people while trying to listen to your friends. "Ji, focus." You mumble under your breath after a while, breaking his focus as he collects two more orange hearts.

"Y/N, keep up with me here." He smirks, just as the orange hearts disappear into his ring. "Why are you so distracted by me, anyway? Jealous?"

"I’m not jealous!”

"Guys focus." Ryujin snaps at the two of you this time, chuckling in amusement when you and Jisung both glare at her. "Hey, easy on the stink eyes. I'm just telling you two to listen over here."

"Do as I do, Ryujin, and just tune them out." Seungmin jabs nonchalantly as he and Yeji take down notes of their discussion, not even once looking up at you nor Jisung. "It works out splendidly once you've mastered it."

"Hearing them bicker over random things before was one thing. Hearing them bicker over ecures now is a whole new playing field." Ryujin smirks, particularly to you. "Ah, you guys sound even more like a married couple now that you're competing. Tsk, tsk..."

"No, we're not!" You and Jisung answer in chorus, looking incredulously at each other after. "Ya!"

"Seungmin's right. Just tune them out, Ryujin." Yeji points out without missing a beat, a small smile taking out the initial annoyance from her face. "Anyway, what's important is we settle our plans first. Let the married couple race for the crown."

"Ya! Hwang Yeji!" You scold, flinging your notebook towards her which she dodges swiftly. "I'm listening, I swear."

Yeji gives you a look of mock disbelief in response before chuckling and going back to her work. "Whatever you say."

Jisung won’t admit it to any of you nor his friends’ faces but he may be just a little jealous that you’re catching onto him at a great speed and looking surprisingly nonchalant about it on the outside. You work extremely hard, that’s a given and Jisung respects that as much as the two of you annoy each other. But he doesn’t even have to sneak over to your room at night and check your locket for your ecure count; the boys and girls from uni, the market where Chan forces the two of you to run errands on weekends, and even at Ryujin’s favorite skate park who always take two glances your way wherever you go are enough giveaway to the amount you’re collecting everyday. And it’s a whole lot of hearts. He won’t even be surprised if you’ve managed to collect 300 hearts by now.

And he’s not even going to get started on how fast you manage to take ecures from the same people twice in less than a week, managing to charm same-age neighbors and classmates from good friends to secret admirers in a span of a few days and getting you at least twice the amount for your tally. You have enough hearts on your locket to keep up with Jisung’s count and use your magic leisurely at home. You definitely keep your competitor up on his toes all the time with how you’re giving your all in this competition and it’s gnawing at him to do even better.

What annoys him on top of this, however, are certain kinds of people that look your way, or even Yeji’s and Ryujin’s for that matter. When the three of you aren’t looking and a bunch of passing jocks would eye you weirdly on the quad or at the library, especially since you’re new to the school, his natural instinct is to glare them down until they’re looking away. He sees their purple ecures from where he would sit across from you as you study, a sign of a lusting kind of feeling, and it does nothing but to tick him off into intimidating them until the color fades out.

Seungmin thinks that, in a way, this is cheating and that you’d probably think the same way if you find out since purple ecures are ranked quite high in the tally, just above pink hearts (”Y/N’s gotten mad at you before for going too far or breaking the rules. You, of all people, should know not to get on their bad side.”). When Jisung writes to Felix back home after, however, his twin naturally defends him and says that he’s just looking out for you.

“You guys don’t always see eye to eye, even now that you’re competing against each other,” Felix recorded over the enchanted mail that arrived after your meeting at the quad, Jisung and Seungmin separating from your group to do some more studying at the library. “but you’re just looking out for Y/N and protecting them from any weirdos, like for Ryujin and Yeji. Just tone it down a bit and let them handle it sometimes.”

“See? Lix thinks I’m doing something right.” Jisung sticks his tongue out at Seungmin who simply shakes his head in stubborn disagreement before returning back to his class notes. “I’m telling you, I’m not sabotaging Y/N on purpose.”

“Still, whether they want to collect those purple ecures or not is not your choice to make.” Seungmin points out. Though he agrees with Jisung’s intentions, as he’s been doing the same and looking out for you and your friends in his own ways as well, he also trusts that you can take care of yourself. “Just let them handle it next time, unless they actually do need your help.”

“But—“

“Consider the guys that passed by at the quad the last time you’ll mess with Y/N’s ecures.” “You saw that?!”

Still, it gnaws on Jisung’s conscience when he takes the train home with you later that day, when another purple heart springs up for you as he checks your surroundings and finds it to be from a stranger. What a creep, Jisung cringes internally with disgust before strategically blocking the man out from your sight and standing closer to you, Y/N’s competition but I’m a decent being! Be the bigger person or whatever bullshit.

“Ya, what are you doing?” You push him away with your index finger to his stomach, leaving a bigger gap between the two of you as you stand on the moving train. “Ji, personal space.”

“We’re literally cramped in this train like canned sardines, Y/N. I’m just trying to make space for the people coming in.” Jisung fibs in retort, unknowingly timing his words perfectly with the train making a stop and justifying his next action of taking a step closer to you. This time, he makes sure that he’s towering over you and blocking the creep behind him completely by moving his hand over to the train handle right next to where your hand is. “Don’t make it weird!”

Your expression is surprisingly unwavering now, clearly unamused by his boyish quips. “You’re the one making it weird! You keep hovering over me.”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, instinctively steadying you with one hand when the abrupt movements of the train pushes you slightly forwards. “Oops, careful there.”

When Jisung takes one last glance at the creep and finds him still looking over your general direction, the boy finally snaps and sends a little spell over the man’s way, one that makes him itch all over and ties his shoelaces together. This is the last time, Jisung swears to himself with a chuckle under his breath, oh what the hell? Punishing creeps is kinda funny.

two out of six months

The first time Han Jisung spots a red heart that he can collect, it’s 2 months into your candidacy exam and he makes the surprising decision to prolong collecting it by several days. It’s not that Soonyoung from your Math class is aware of this. As far as she knows, Jisung is simply stringing her along much like he does with every other girl he’s flirting with and she doesn’t seem to mind this fact.

But you mind, you and your other friends do a lot. “It’s a powerful heart and costs 5000 points on the point system.” Seungmin even noted himself once on another day that Jisung left your class without Soonyoung’s crystal red heart. You mostly agree on this, coupled with the fact that you can’t steal the heart for yourself to gain more points in the race since it’s not for you. “Just take it, it’s not going to get any higher than that.”

No matter how much you or any of your friends nag, however, Jisung simply lets the days pass doing nothing much about it besides entertain Soonyoung whenever the girl approaches. As his sole competitor in your candidacy exam, you visibly feel the most frustrated out of everyone else by each passing day, especially at the thought that you yourself haven’t managed any red hearts yet.

“It is weird, very not like him but also a bit like him if that makes sense?” Ryujin notes by the 10th day, after you recounted Math class to her as you take a short break together. Today, Jisung agreed to go to lunch with Soonyoung, only to tell you and Seungmin that even then he’s not going to take her heart today. “I mean knowing what happened between you two in middle sch—”

You immediately shake your head before she could even finish her thought, “No, I don’t think that has anything to do with now. Definitely not.”

“It’s not like that! I meant to say that this is even worse than when you had a crush on Jisung. The girl’s ecure is as red as red could go!” Ryujin exclaims, forcing you to cover her mouth with your hand just as Soonyoung and Jisung comically pass by your table at the kiosk to eat lunch together. Slowly prying your hands off once the pair in question are out of earshot, Ryujin then leans over the table and continues, “But even then, he’s not taking it to gain momentum in your exam. Aren’t you a little bit curious why?”

You hesitantly shrug, “I mean, a little...but honestly I think he’s just being stupid. If I were him, I won’t string the girl along, not for this long anyway. It’s a waste of time and effort when he can just pick up the heart and reject her carefully.”

“Then, maybe he has his reasons. If you know about it, you might get an advantage!” Yeji speaks up this time, joining your table late with a huge pile of library books on top of her laptop bag in her hands. As much as this girl has been busy looking for her brother, she also keeps up with her human world cover surprisingly well even when she doesn’t have to with all the studying that she does on the side. “One way to find out, right? I heard Felix’s not that busy these days back home.”

You feign a frown at the two girls agreeing in unison, especially at Yeji as she takes out her phone from the magical realm. “You know, you’re really good at sticking your head into a lot of things even when you’re busy looking for your brother.” You note dryly, making Yeji laugh while dialling Felix’s phone on the other side. “That was sarcastic, Yeji.”

“I’m a great multitasker.” She winks before placing her phone at the center of your table then scooting her chair closer to you and Ryujin, effectively hiding the odd-looking device that projects Felix’s face almost immediately. “Hey Lix!”

“Hi Lix!” You politely greet along with Ryujin anyway, waving to the small projection of the prince on Yeji’s phone. By the faint greenery that surrounds him, you immediately assume that he’s back at home and tending to his personal garden.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” The younger Eastern prince jokes, greeting the three of you individually after. “What’s up? Seungmo and Sungie not with you three today?”

“Seungmin got held back in class today for a TA offering and your brother’s on a date! Can you believe it? A lunch date with a human girl!” Yeji explains a little too excitedly, you and Ryujin immediately shushing her up. Giggling, the princess continues anyway, “Which is why we called! We just thought it’s a little weird that Jisung’s not trying to catch this red heart when it’s a clear advantage to his tally and maybe you’d know why.”

All the while Yeji explains your purpose for calling, you slowly observe how Felix’s own expression morphs into that of genuine surprise. “What? He hasn’t taken it?!” He exclaims in response after Yeji finishes speaking. “Are you sure? That’s not very like him.”

“Well, why do you think he hasn’t taken it, then?” You suddenly find yourself asking this time, earning you incredulous looks from your peers. Brushing them off, you simply glance over at Felix as he tries thinking of a reason himself.

“Maybe he still can’t reject admirers for shit.” Ryujin snickers under her breath, making you elbow the girl harshly on her side.

But surprisingly, Felix nods absentmindedly to this. “Maybe…”

“Are you seriously agreeing with that, Lix?” You frown. “I think he’s just up to no good.”

“Hey, Ji can act weird and not be up to trouble too, you know.” Felix pouts back. “But honestly, I don’t know why he’s not thinking of taking it either, especially knowing how he’s so proud of getting to receive it alone. Maybe he likes this person, who knows?”

The thought feels so foreign to you, Jisung genuinely liking someone, especially knowing what he did when you were much younger. But when you glance over to your friends, you also notice the same confused looks on their faces.

“Han Jisung...liking someone? Enough to respect their feelings?” Ryujin muses out loud before eventually shaking her head. “Nope, sounds weird. Dangerous! Alien! Y/N, have you been noticing any other weird things from your housemate lately? Maybe he��s been secretly abducted by aliens!”

“Oh stop it, Ryujin! Whatever it is my brother’s planning, I trust that he at least has an idea what he’s doing.” Felix sighs, running a hand through his blonde locks. In the background of his end, the faint voice of Changbin beckoning him over momentarily catches his attention. “If he’s being stupid again, then just let him be. If he does like this person, though, I just hope that he treads carefully while he’s at it. You know how precious witch ecures are.”

“Oh, I know…” You murmur under your breath as you scrunch up your nose, unconsciously glancing over to Jisung and Soonyoung’s table where the two are laughing over something you can’t hear from across the room. When Changbin’s voice grows louder on Felix’s end, you then smoothly steer the topic to a close, “Anyway, sorry for bothering you at this time. Bin’s calling for you.”

Next to you, Ryujin and Yeji agree with nods and smiles as Felix waves his free hand dismissively at this. “No, it’s okay! Just look out for my brother, yeah? I gotta go, Queen Lia just arrived for tea with me and my mom!”

“Oh, then we’ll see you!” “Have fun at tea!” “Say hi to Lia for us!”

Felix waves one last goodbye before ending the call. As his image disappears from Yeji’s phone, the princess is quick to pocket her phone back and turn to you with a raised brow, “So, what do you think? Even Lix finds it weird.”

Personally, you think it’s odd. The thought that Jisung could easily be developing feelings for someone while taking your exam, to someone human no less. You’ll probably never admit it to him but he’s been working hard in collecting hearts up to this point and you know him enough to know that he won’t let himself get distracted with something like this. “What is he planning exactly?”

You’re giving Jisung that look again, through the boy’s reflection on the bus mirror no less as the two of you head to Chan’s studio where he has promised the two of you dinner. The same look you kept giving him during your welcome party just last month, probably without you knowing, rests on your tired features as you listen to music on your phone and rest your cheek against your propped up hand on the window seat you almost threw him out of the bus for. What did I do now? The boy can’t help but whine pitifully to himself as he steals another glance at your direction while scrolling through his phone.

Jisung helplessly rakes his brain for anything that he’s done today that could’ve possibly pissed you off while pretending to look down on his phone, missing the way you shift uncomfortably in your seat as if you were going to ask a question.

“So—” “I meant to ask—”

Jisung’s immediately closes his mouth shut when the two of you speak at the same time, eyes widening when he looks up and sees you already looking over at him directly. Simultaneously, you’re quick to look away from him and cough awkwardly, quietly mumbling out that Jisung speaks first. “Go ahead.”

“What did I do this time?” Jisung immediately goes for it, pouting and sinking into his seat for extra emphasis. This visibly surprises you by the way your eyes widen slightly and you visibly freeze in front of him. “You’ve been glaring at me from the window since it started getting dark outside and it’s starting to get annoying but I’m too tired from today to think of everything that I did today to pinpoint where I ticked you off again.”

Your lips curl down to a frown and you bring your propped up arm back to your side, sinking down your own seat to his level. “I wasn’t glaring at you!”

“Yes you were—” “—No, I wasn’t!” “Yes you—”

“Okay, then, if I was glaring at you like you said, it’s because I meant to ask you something.” You huff before shyly looking away, gazing out of the window again. “W-Why haven’t you...whyhaventyoutakenthatgirlsheart?”

Now, Jisung is even more confused than ever from not understanding a word you just said. Raising a curious brow, the prince nudges you by your shoulder with his own until you look back at him again, uttering a slow, “What?!”

You inhale slowly, as if holding your embarrassment in, before repeating, “Why haven’t you taken Soonyoung’s heart?”

“I—really? That’s what you wanted to ask?” That’s it? So I didn’t do shit? Whew...

You nod, crossing your arms and looking away. “Well, don’t act so smug now! I’m just curious, it’s powerful and worth a lot of points, after all.”

Caught off-guard, it takes Jisung a worryingly long time to answer your question. He looks down on his phone first, with his emerald ring right next to it, before glancing over to the distant LED screen at the very front of the bus, announcing the next stop. “Just because…” He trails off with a reluctant shrug, avoiding the feeling of your curious gaze. If it were any other situation, maybe involving a lower-ranking heart like a yellow, green, or even an orange one, he would be laughing at you and teasing that you’re obsessed with his count or trying to compare it with your own. “You, of all people should know…”

But it’s a red heart, one that’s made him a bit too flustered for him to admit to anyone, even to his own brother. “I don’t know what I’ll do with it.” He answers vaguely because of this, hearing a little ‘oh’ from your side. “I already told Soonyoung over lunch that I don’t see her like that but it’s still red. Her feelings are too sincere for me and I feel like I can’t take advantage of that, not for a competition.”

Jisung doesn’t hear any verbal response from your side after this, not even when the LED screen ahead announces that you’re nearing your stop. When he glances over to you through the window, however, he catches a glimpse of the smallest hint of a content smile on your features.

Only when the two of you arrive at your stop, while you’re following him down the stairs down from the bus, do you nudge him on his side once more and say, “I guess that’s sweet of you. Plus, you’re actually using your head for once.”

Your soft smile momentarily catches him off-guard, freezing him on the sidewalk, until a passerby brushes him by his shoulder and snaps him back to reality. “Y-Ya! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You wave your hand dismissively at him with a laugh, running off ahead to Chan’s studio. “Last one to the studio is a lousy runner and won’t get dessert!”

“Hey! Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean? Did you just call me stupid?!”

The next day, a ‘secret admirer’ leaves a red apple, a milk box, and an unsigned heart-shaped note on your usual table as you enter Math class. Though the note has your name and its message typed and printed, a simple nonverbal spell that you cast over the gifts reveal a familiar fingerprint.

“So, who’s it from?” Jisung asks, swiftly swiping the apple from your table and taking a huge bite. “How many points are we looking at here?”

You scoff at his action, taking the apple for yourself and biting on the opposite side. “It’s from Soonyoung.” You answer with a mischievous smile, causing your competitor to choke. When you glance over at the girl’s table, your eyes briefly turn blue to see a pinkish heart for you. “I guess you don’t want her red heart, huh? Mind if I make a pink one from her into a red for me?”

Jisung coughs violently, thumping his fist against his chest as he recovers. “Y-Ya! Don’t you dare!”

three out of six months

One thing you’ve been most looking forward to in this Crown Candidacy exam, besides seeing your cousin and friends currently staying in the human world and helping with Hyunjin’s search, is getting to see your cousin’s boyfriend again. Though the rest of your family doesn’t really approve of Minho, mostly since he’s the reason why Chan renounced his duke title in the first place and why your cousin might be permanently tied to the human world in the future, you’ve taken a liking to the guy since you first met him on a short visit 2 years ago and have been looking forward to hanging out in person once more after a long while.

Minho makes Chan the happiest you’ve ever seen him since you were kids, cooks really well, travels the world as a performing artist, and is totally cool with the idea that his boyfriend is a wizard from another realm. Plus, he catches onto magical items really quick, having adapted quickly to using your realm’s inter-world mailing system hence how you’ve been keeping in touch up until this point. You honestly don’t see any reason to hate him, even before meeting him in person. If anything, knowing that it’s Minho that’s keeping Chan from fulfilling his royal duties makes you support your cousin’s decision even more than before.

However, you’re already halfway done with your exam and Minho is still nowhere to be seen. He initially promised you that he’ll cook you and Jisung a meal as soon as you arrived but last-minute plans in his touring schedule with a ballet company held him back abroad, postponing this plan indefinitely and making you focus more on school and helping look for Hyunjin.

That is until you and Jisung came home from your usual Saturday grocery errands to inhale the smell of meat and mushroom soup coming from the kitchen.

“Is Chan cooking?” Jisung raised a brow at this, closing the door behind you and walking further inside the house. “It smells nice, though. So it’s not him?”

You roll your eyes, biting down a laugh at this surprisingly funny quip. “That’s definitely not Chan.” You affirm anyways, excitedly walking past him to the kitchen where you find the familiar back of a person stirring a big pot of soup next to Chan who’s chopping up side dishes. “Minho!”

Jisung follows you to the kitchen and watches from the doorframe as this said Minho turns around, opening his arms out to hug you as you quickly drop your groceries on the dining table and run towards him. Next to you two, Chan stops his own work and laughs at the sight, prying you away after a moment and reminding you, “Hey, hey, Minho’s tired from his flight!”

“Tired? Then you make him cook dinner? I don’t think so!” You giggle, clutching onto Minho like a koala while the said boy pretends to shrug you off. “I was wondering when you’re coming home! You haven’t even written since I came here, you jerk!”

“My schedule was jam-packed until the other day but I promised some magic freaks that I’ll cook them dinner so I came home as soon as I can.” Minho laughs, hugging you back and only then catching sight of a confused Jisung. “Oh, hi there! You must be Han Jisung?”

“Y-Yeah?” Jisung nods slowly in confusion, raising one hand holding multiple eco-bags up in a wave. He hates it when he’s not in the loop of things but more importantly, he hates it when it’s you keeping him out of the loop in particular. Who’s this guy?! “Sorry, and you are?”

“Lee Minho! I’m keeping Chan hostage here on Earth.” Minho formally introduces himself, earning him a nudge from both you and Chan. “What? Should I curtsy? I know your family and Hyunjin’s doesn’t really require it but I don’t know about the others so—”

Oh. At this, Jisung visibly relaxes with a chuckle and finally approaches your little group, settling his own share of the groceries down on the dining table before sitting down himself. Chan then takes this as his cue to reluctantly drag you over next to Jisung while he and Minho finish cooking. “No, no, it’s cool! We’re not at home, anyway.”

“Okay, then, cool. You guys are okay with waiting for a little bit, right? The lamb’s not fully cooked yet.” Minho explains. “I was going to make you two a meal when your exam started but I got caught up in work so—”

“Yeah it’s fine!” You agree eagerly, taking out your groceries and organizing them on the table. “We’ll just fix up the groceries.”

Jisung side-eyes you with an incredulous look in his eyes, something Chan definitely notices as his lips quirk up into a knowing grin before whispering something to Minho. “Why are you so chirpy all of a sudden?” He asks you, helping you take out the groceries and arrange them into their respective shelves.

“What do you mean? I’ve been chirpy since this morning.” You scoff. “Why do you even keep track? I told you not to stare at me, weirdo.”

“Um no, you weren’t. You were complaining about me breathing next to you on the bus a while ago. ‘You’re not helping me get any hearts’ or whatever it was you were rambling about a while back.” Jisung points out with a huff. “And I don’t stare, that’s you! If anything, you’re the weirdo, always up my business!”

“Well, why wouldn’t I complain? I was at the market with you all day! You don’t know how to pick good vegetables and you kept flirting with the store clerks to try and up their orange hearts to pink ones! Then, you wore that stupid perfume again when I told you already that it smells bad! Now we’re at home and you can stay the fuck away from me.”

“Ya, you little sh—”

Across the kitchen, Minho giggles in amusement at hearing you and Jisung bicker live for the first time. You’ve always complained about this Jisung fellow in your correspondence and he’s never had a clear grasp as to why you’re always at this boy’s neck but now that he’s meet Jisung in the flesh and is starting to hear what you two are exactly fighting about, Minho can’t help but laugh into the mushroom soup. “So this is the troublemaker who’s been bugging our Y/N.” He ends up musing out loud. “I see why you need me home now.”

“Believe me, you should’ve seen them grow up together with the other kids. Always fighting over the smallest of things, competing on who’s better, and all that.” Chan rolls his eyes in disinterest, glancing over to you and Jisung as the latter starts chasing you around the dining area with a bundle of scallions. “What you’re seeing right now is barely the tip of the iceberg, Min.”

“Reminds you a little bit of us back then, don’t you think?”

“Ya, and which one am I supposed to be?”

The couple glances over their shoulders to see that you’ve now successfully snatched the scallions from Jisung with your magic and have started to hit him over the head with it. This then makes Chan squint his eyes suspiciously at Minho who only chuckles. “Babe, you and Y/N are definitely related, don’t you think?”

“Do you also want to get hit with scallions?”

Though Jisung was initially wary of Minho at the start of the evening, having only heard of him vaguely from gossip among the other royal kids prior, your cousin’s boyfriend slowly and naturally transitioned over the prince’s good graces as soon as the lamb chops and mushroom soup were served along with stories of Minho’s own adventures and questions about the magical realm. Now that he’s put a name and a face to the person that people back home simply referred to as the reason why Chan left (and who he’s admittedly been blaming as well for the sudden shift in your attitude at the royal courts), Jisung now genuinely believes that the people back at home jumped to their conclusions quickly about Minho.

Minho’s really nice, Chan is really fond of him and you clearly support the two. In return, Minho looks out for you and Chan, you in particular as the older guy proceeds to drill Jisung shamelessly with questions on whatever it is that you’ve mentioned about him in your letters.

Jisung didn’t even know a lot of the things Minho kept rambling on about while you tried so hard to keep his mouth shut next to him by helplessly trying to cover his mouth.

“Y/N talks about you a whoooooooole lot. Like, a minor inconvenience during their royal duties then they’re quick to talk to me about it.” Minho grins playfully, dodging your attempts at shutting him up while he eats his share of the pastry dessert. “When we first met and this candidate exam thing was first brought up, they talked about the other royals briefly but they talked about you in super great detail! Oh, and Y/N was rambling a lot about how you reacted to when they confessed to you in middle school and everything, it was so funn—”

“Minho shut up!”

“It was really funny!” Minho pins your wrists to the table after a while, gesturing towards Chan, sitting next to Jisung across the table, who then uses his magic to switch your places. This then effectively shuts you up as your flustered expression overcomes your face upon accidentally locking eyes with Jisung right after. “But I want to know what actually happened when you rejected Y/N at your magic school? I want the full scope of what happened just so I get both sides!”

“Y-Ya!” You protest, only to be silenced by Jisung this time who laughs as he swallows a mouthful of food. “Ugh, you’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Why do you still talk about that, anyway? It was a long time ago.” Jisung chuckles, propping an elbow up on the table and resting his cheek on his palm as he glances over to you with a smirk. “God, you’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m no—” “So, Minho hyung, what did Y/N tell you about that?”

It was in the 7th grade, on Valentine’s Day of all days even, when you confessed your crush to Han Jisung. You actually didn’t plan any of it to happen because you just thought of it as stupid, especially at the thought that almost everything Jisung used to do back then annoyed you and made you think of him as childish.

But Hyunjin somehow slipped you an enchanted cookie on that day as a prank after you confessed at Ryujin’s party the previous weekend that you thought that Jisung was cute sometimes (”I specifically said sometimes and it was one time. Clearly, it wasn’t me who had a problem, right?” “That still doesn’t change the fact that 12-year-old you had a crush on me, Y/N.”). He told you that it was from a batch Felix made for their baking class, bluffing about its distinct strong vanilla scent as a mistake on the younger Eastern prince’s end.

As it then turned out, however, the cookie was laced with a potion that forcefully exposed the true color that your heart reflected towards Jisung in front of the entire cafeteria while the two of you bickered over some mishap that happened in one of your shared potion classes. Being young as he was as well and feeling embarrassed of all the passersby that looked at you both, Jisung’s fight or flight response made him visibly cringe at seeing the surprisingly pink, bordering red, heart and childishly berated you for it until the potion wore off and your ecure disappeared back into the sleeves of your robes. You ran away crying while Jisung didn’t go to school for the few days that followed in embarrassment.

“You were like 12 back then, it happens.” Minho shrugs after yours and Jisung’s messy storytelling. “And for the record, Y/N, if Chan did that to me as Jisung, I would’ve been annoyed at him too. Your rants are totally valid.”

“I’m eating my croissants in peace.” Chan complains, slapping the younger man’s arm. “Don’t drag me into this.”

Simultaneously, Jisung glances over to you and sees a small pout rest on your features. “Well, I don’t know, it’s not really an ‘it happens’ kind of situation if you come from our world.” You point out, glaring at Jisung when you feel him staring at you. “Especially back then. My heart was looking pink and a little reddish for Jisung at the time—ew—which gave him the power to take it if he wanted to.”

Now, this is apparently new information to Minho as he then asks, “You can do that? I thought witches only have one heart so it can’t be taken away?”

“Yeah, exactly.” You nod. “Since we don’t produce the crystal hearts as infinitely as you humans do, it could only be taken if it’s pink or a higher color. It’s the natural law in our world.”

“And if that happens, the witch could become weak, controlled by the other witch who takes their heart, or killed.” Chan quips in this time. “That’s why marriage is sort of a permanent commitment back at home and witches are more encouraged to use human ecure when performing higher-level magic.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch in our case, though! It’s not like 12-year-old me would think of killing Y/N back then.” Jisung purses his lips into a thin line at you, unamused. “You really are a bit dramatic sometimes, you know? What would I even do with your heart?”

“You were 12, Jisung. Who knows what you were thinking back then...if you were thinking at all.” You retort immediately, turning to Minho again after. “That’s why my family’s a bit wary about you, Min, no offense. With you and Chan in a relationship, he can give up his heart to you but if you don’t reciprocate it by exchanging with one of your own, he might get weak or die.”

This then makes Jisung turn to Minho as well, curious as to what his response would be.

Unfazed, Minho smiles and turns lovingly to his boyfriend. “Then, aren’t you lucky I’m obsessed with you, huh?”

“Really now?” Chan chuckles, slinging his arm over Minho’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Then I guess I can stay here permanently, right?”

You pretend to gag as you sip on your water, reminding the older guys that there are “children” in front of them. Jisung rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair at this scene, looking away at the tender display of affection across the table. The two of you don’t even have to check how the pair’s ecures reflect towards each other with your magic to know that they’re a matching bright red.

When he looks over to you, he catches the briefest and fondest smile gracing your expression as you mumble about how “stupidly cute” Chan and Minho are being. Jisung knows he shouldn’t look, not in this moment when he sees you at a vulnerable state and you would slap him over the head if he teases you about it, but his eyes unconsciously turn green and peeks over at your ecure as it watches over your favourite cousin and his boyfriend.

It’s a bright blue, a sign of deep respect and familial love for Chan and Minho. Jisung looks away immediately when you glance up at him curiously, forcing his eyes back to their natural color before he could accidentally see how your heart reflects to him. “What?”

He gets it now. Why you’ve been so uptight in fulfilling your royal duties, snapping just a little more easily these days whenever he annoys you, and acting like a pushover to the elders who keep ordering you around back at home. You’ve been shouldering a lot of the responsibilities back home, both yours and the ones that Chan has left behind, all because you want your cousin to be happy in this world without worries.

“Why were you looking at me?” You pout. “You didn’t check my—ya, Han Jisung!”

“I wasn’t looking at you like that! I was gonna ask you to pass me the cream puffs!”

You begrudgingly pass him the bowl of cream puffs, rolling your eyes before smiling at Minho and Chan again and changing the conversation to something else. “Anyway, Minho, you’re staying longer now, right?”

“I saw what you did at dinner, by the way. Y/N would beat you to a pulp if they knew you were looking into their heart, especially since we were just talking about it.” Chan speaks up after a moment of walking around Jisung’s room, tidying up the fallen music sheets on the ground and closing the curtains for the night. You’ve long stolen Minho from your cousin right after dinner hours ago to binge his tour videos and so he’s resorted to hanging out with Jisung, playing video games until the clock struck midnight.

Jisung pouts as he tucks himself away in bed, turning to his side to face Chan as the older boy continues arranging his “messy” work table. “I looked at how it reflects for you and Minho, not at how it looks at me. Just that, swear.” He clarifies in between protesting over Chan’s actions (“It’s an organized mess!” “It’s a mess, Jisung.”) “It’s almost like your family’s sapphire when it looks at the two of you, bluer than how it looks when Y/N’s with the King and the High Queen. You’re more family to them than their own parents.”

This effectively freezes Chan in place for a moment, a small smile gracing the former duke’s features. “Of course I know that.” He replies, almost as an inaudible mumble from across the room. “That’s why it was so hard to leave at first.”

“Then why did you—?”

“Because Y/N told me to.” Moving to the door and preparing to leave, Chan sees Jisung’s face and continues, “Believe me, I was even more conflicted than you’re being right now back then. We both know that my own siblings are too young to shoulder the job I’ll leave behind but Y/N told me that they’ll gladly handle it if it meant that I can be happy here. We argued about it a lot, I kept telling them that I can just juggle moving between the two realms, but you know how persuasive and stubborn Y/N can be.”

The last comment makes Jisung chuckle. Of all people, he should know of it the best. “It’s just hard to argue with them.” He nods in agreement. “I heard they’re the one who got you this house and everything.”

Chan nods, slowly putting one foot out of the door. “Y/N cares a lot, sometimes a little too much, that they end up sacrificing a lot and putting their own feelings last because of it. Since I went away, I’ve only ever been worried that they’ll just explode one day, actually, but I know you and the other kids keep them in check.”

“I’d hardly call Y/N relaxed with me.” Jisung pouts, fiddling with his fingers nervously as he confesses this shyly. “I think they just find me annoying…”

“Oh you definitely annoy each other but that’s just how you two are together. It’s all in good fun and that’s good, especially now that you’re going to take much more responsibilities once you go back home.” Chan notes with a shrug, briefly glancing over his shoulder as you and Minho arrive on the second floor. “Just be a little gentler with them. Night, Sung.”

four out of six months

You know better than to expect nothing less from Lee Chaeryoung, one of the best investigators from your realm, as she helped Yeji lead Hyunjin’s search party. When you initially expected that she would finish scouting Incheon before the end of the semester, she came back with the most solid lead that anyone’s picked up since the start of the search party around Seoul with 2 months left on your time in the human world.

Apparently, from the scouring she’s done beyond the initial parameters of the search, a few magic and non-magic folk living around the beach area have seen the Southern kingdom’s prince at a party on the night he disappeared, interacting with a strange group of people they only described by their unusually white hairs, matching snake tattoos, and icy blue eyes. What was even more interesting is that these people were still around the area when Chaeryoung visited but without any sign of Hyunjin. With this, she could only confirm that they’re also from the magical realm.

“They could only be Northwestern ogre witches, I’m sure of it.” Chan commented after hearing Chaeryoung’s report over dinner with everyone present. When Minho then asked about it, your cousin didn’t hesitate to explain, “A group of witches back home who were initially banished to the wastelands because they practiced darker arts and only collected black ecures. Lately, a lot of them have been turning up here and doing gods-know-what.”

“But if they only want the artifact that Hyunjin recovered, why would they still keep him?” You ask, crossing your arms over the dining table as Chaeryoung showed you photos of the location she ascouted on her phone. “Hyunjin’s high-profile too, yes, but unless they want him to collect colored ecures for them, there’s no other reason to keep him captive when there are other magic folk there. Why him?”

“Unless they have something bigger up their sleeves.” Seungmin notes with a frown, closing Chaeryoung’s phone as he grows more and more upset from across the table. When you and Jisung glance over to him curiously, he then meets your eyes and adds, “Maybe we shouldn’t let you two go with us on this.”

“What?! Why?” Jisung is the first to instinctively speak up against this, sitting up taller in his seat. You echo the same question, albeit a little quieter when you see Chan nodding worriedly on your side.

“I have a feeling that they might be after the two of you too from this.” Seungmin explains once Jisung calmed down a bit from his sudden outburst. “Like Y/N said, keeping Hyunjin to collect colored ecures against his will doesn’t seem like a good enough reason, at least not this long.”

“It’s timed perfectly, too, that they caught Hyunjin right before the candidacy exam.” Yeji quips in, belatedly nodding in agreement to Seungmin’s suggestion. “They might be luring you two specifically by using my brother.”

“But that’s just a hunch for now! We don’t know th—”

Chan’s entire disposition in a flash, slamming his hand down on the table a little too loudly and effectively shutting everyone up around the table including Minho. “That’s exactly why we can’t risk it.” He counters firmly and you know, just by the tone of your cousin’s voice, that he already has the final word. “Remember, you and Y/N are here first and foremost because you’re taking your exam. Keeping you on wraps with this search is formalities, at most. Anyway, there’s enough of us here who can look for Hyunjin. You two just stay put until we can sort this out and ensure that this problem stops interfering with the exam any further.”

When you peek over to your right to glance at Jisung’s reaction two seats away, you see him glancing back at you from the corner of his eyes before sighing in defeat. “And if they want our group separated?”

“The house’s enchanted with protective spells. Minho and Ryujin will also stay and watch over you two while we extract Hyunjin over the weekend.” Chan notes, continuing before Jisung could complain further. “That’s final, Ji. We’ll take over from here.”

“Don’t fret too much, Sung.” Seungmin adds comfortingly. “Anyway, if we find Hyunjin, we’ll all stay here for a few days before going back home.”

In response, you hear Jisung slam his back on his seat hard before huffing childishly, glancing over to you as he opens his mouth. Knowing that he’ll throw a fit, you immediately shake your head, forbidding him from doing so. “Fine...” He murmurs under his breath with a sigh, knowing better than to start an argument with one of his best friends at this time. “Just—just bring Hyunjin back quickly.”

Somehow, even when you understand where Chan’s coming from, you also feel somewhat bad for Jisung. You want to see Hyunjin too but your circumstances aren’t exactly favourable to let you be of much help.

As much as Jisung used to hate how Chan coddled you, he hates it even more now that the same behavior is directed towards him, especially in situations like this when he wants to actively help in Hyunjin’s search. The circumstances couldn’t have been more unfavorable to him now: the group finding a lead but at a time when he’s participating in an exam that has him more at risk of being targeted by creatures from the magical realm that have strayed to this world.

On top of this, he hates how he can clearly see that you want to see Hyunjin just as much as he and everyone else does but you’re quicker to comply the moment Chan, and eventually even Yeji, put the two of you on house arrest for the weekend while the rest of the group goes to Incheon. It frustrates him to no end that you keep quietly complying to everyone else when you clearly want to do something else. And, as a result, you end up channeling your energy aggressively elsewhere much like today as you spend most of your Sunday cleaning and redecorating around the expansive house with Minho.

“Can’t you two like, tone it down a bit?” Jisung complains for the third time this afternoon as he plays with the music software on Chan’s laptop, lifting his feet off of the coffee table in the living room when Minho passes by with a vacuum before pushing a levitating plant that hovers too close for comfort to his face. Somewhere, Ryujin has retreated outside to the garden in order to tend to more plants. “The house’s going to get thrashed after a while anyway.”

“And why can’t you help clean?” You ask back in retort, fluffing up the pillows next to him as you occasionally glance over your shoulder to make sure that the levitating objects around the room aren’t falling over. “If you’re just going to complain while we’re cleaning here, you can just go up to your room since we’re done upstairs, anyway.”

Jisung pouts, crawling over to the other side of the sofa anyway when you gesture for him to move. “The sunlight’s better here at this time.” He points to the glass windows. “Just finish up quickly already.”

“If you want to get some sun, you can help Ryujin outside.” You poke back, moving over to the sofa across the coffee table. As you move, the hovering plant pots slowly move to where you want to relocate them to, one moving next to the sofa almost hitting Jisung in the face once more with its leaves. “Make yourself useful, Jisung.”

The witch in question scoffs, closing Chan’s laptop and finally planting his feet back on the floor to a stand. Jisung also hates that tone you use when you order him around because it always makes him do whatever you ask without fail. “Fine, I’m going outside.” He grumbles, trudging to the direction of the back door leading outside and making sure to close the door with a loud thud.

Out in the gardens, Ryujin is busy reviving dried up leaves and flowers while a few watering cans go around to water the trees and bushes. Upon seeing Jisung walking down the mini stairs with a pout and furrowed brows, the younger witch can’t help but laugh, “Y/N banished you outside?”

“I’m supposed to help you but you don’t even look like you need help at all.” The prince continues to grumble, setting himself down on a foldable chair and crossing his bare arms over his chest. “If I do help, I might actually kill the plants. You already know how I’m terrible I am at healing magic.”

Ryujin acknowledges with a hum, turning her attention back to Chan’s mini garden of camellias. “Just sunbathe, look around or whatever, I can handle this.” She assures with a smile. “I won’t tell Y/N too, don’t worry.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that looking around thing later.” Jisung sighs, sinking into his seat and closing his eyes. “I’ll nap for now.”

“He just does whatever you say, huh?” Minho points out to you as soon as you finish cleaning the living room, tiredly taking up the empty space next to you on the couch with two pillows hugged close to his chest. When you open your mouth to protest, “I know I said it’s amusing when you two bicker over stupid things but it’s actually really nice and quiet when you two reach compromise like this. So peaceful.”

“He just knows when to not mess with me. Don’t exaggerate it.” You scoff at this, pushing Minho away from you as you lift your legs up to the coffee table. “He knows that I feel the need to be busy when I’m on edge like this but he was in the way. The least he could do is either be useful around the house too or just stay out of my sight for a while.”

“Don’t be too worried, I’m sure they’re all being careful and getting to Hyunjin soon.” Minho assures you with a small smile, waving his human world phone in front of you as it displays a flurry of messages from Chan. “If it makes you feel better, your cousin’s been asking me about you and Jisung as much as he’s been updating me of what’s happening.”

You frown at this, making Minho chuckle. “He’s been talking to you but not to me? I’m his cousin!”

“He knows you’re redecorating his house in 50 different styles while you wait for him so he just asks about you through me. Don’t get it twisted, Y/N.” The older boy continues laughing, carefully shoving a pillow away from his face when you levitate it closer to him. “Anyway, they said that they’ve confirmed that the ogres are still staying at the beach resort so they’re planning to get to them tonight and confirm if they really took Hyunjin.”

Your expression visibly shifts more positively, eyes widening and mouth hanging agape. “Really?”

“If things go smoothly, everyone, including Hyunjin, would be home really soon. Until then, Chan has asked me to make sure that you and Jisung don’t kill each other or go outside without permission.”

You shove Minho once more at the last statement, mustering up a laugh this time. “Hey, we’re not that childish.” You point out with a pout before another thought crosses your mind. “Oh, right, I can tell Jisung, right? I mean, it’s just an update anyway.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Minho nods, poking you on your side to get you to stand up. “It’s also getting dark out, call Ryujin in too so we can reheat some leftovers for dinner.”

You scoff at the thought of leftovers for dinner, standing up anyway and heading outside where the sun has indeed set on the horizon. As you walk down the steps leading down to the backyard, you easily spot Ryujin by the back gate as she flirts with one of your neighbors who holds an orange heart up her sleeve but it takes you a moment to see Jisung fast asleep under one of the outdoor umbrellas.

“Ryujin!” You call for your friend, biting down your lip when the girl she’s been flirting with awkwardly looks away and your friend in question consequently glares at you for interrupting her. “Where’s Jisung?”

“There.” Ryujin quickly points towards the outdoor umbrellas on the far corner of the backyard before turning her gaze back on your neighbor whose heart immediately turns a shy pink at this.

You roll your eyes at this with a chuckle before heading over to Jisung, finding him snoring lightly and snuggling into a pillow despite the cold evening breeze. He doesn’t budge an inch when you call his name or poke his side, stirring only when you slap his cheek gently awake by instinctively swatting your hand away and mumbling a string of curses for you to go away. “What?!”

“It’s starting to get cold out here. Come on, we’re eating dinner in a while.” You respond, taking the pillow from him and grabbing him by the arm to help him stand up. When he doesn’t budge, you resort to adjusting his hoodie at least so he doesn’t freeze himself to death. “Minho also said that Chan’s been texting him. Everyone’s okay so far and they’ll interrogate the ogres tonight, maybe even get Hyunjin if they really took him.”

Jisung finally springs awake at this, jumping to a stand in surprise. “What? Really? Is there—well, is there anything else?” He asks quickly, stumbling over his words in shock while you drag him back inside.

Ryujin follows along after a while, running to the kitchen to check what you’re having for dinner. You and Jisung walk a little slower as he rubs his eyes from his surprisingly long nap next to you, somehow not making a fuss this time about your linked arms.

“Sadly, that’s only what I got from Minho a while back so I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning for anything new.” You answer his previous question as you head to the kitchen where Ryujin and Minho reheat leftovers and make some new side dishes. When you see Jisung’s ears perk up slightly at your words, you quickly add, “Don’t try staying up late just for an update. You should get some more sleep after dinner so you don’t look like a ghost when we see Hyunjin again.”

He scoffs at this, sitting down on the dining table and dragging you along with him on the adjacent seat. “How can I sleep if I know that we’re so close to seeing Hyunjin again after months? I’ll stay up late if I want to!”

“And I’ll kill you two if you stay up all night then get all cranky tomorrow when you have to get to class.” Minho cuts you off before you could even speak, setting the dishes down on the table. “Okay, eat up!”

“That was him, not me.” You shrug at Jisung’s semi-permanent pout with a chuckle, receiving a plate and utensils before thanking Minho for the food. “Eat up, Ji.”

You don’t even have to glance back over to his direction to know that he has his usual determined look plastered over his face again. Because of the new update on Hyunjin’s situation, he’s suddenly more alert now that he might actually take you up on staying awake the entire night.

“Jisung, are you awake?”

Jisung doesn’t really expect you to hold true to your word and check up on him at 3 AM when Ryujin and Minho have both gone to sleep. You suddenly knock on his door while he’s in the middle of a song he’s been trying to write on his guitar lately, startling the poor boy who almost falls off of the window and causes a big fuss about it.

“Are you okay in there?” You ask worriedly from outside after knocking for the 4th time, the doorknob clicking gently after. When only shuffles reach your ear on the other side, you immediately add, “Hey, I’m coming in!”

Jisung doesn’t even have time to protest, catching a glimpse of you going in and closing the door as a tray of mugs trails behind you. Quickly hiding the guitar by the curtains, he clumsily scrambles up to a stand and retrieves the tray from the air, “H-Hi! You made...tea?”

“Those two mugs are for me.” You pretend to swat his hand away jokingly, joining him on the small balcony on the other side of his window. Spotting his guitar hidden haphazardly on the side, you’re quick to pick it up and slide it over your lap while Jisung’s occupied with the tea, strumming a few chords. Only then, do you also notice his music sheets strewn across the balcony, all labelled with the word ‘sunshine.’ “I didn’t know you brought this along. It still plays good, I suppose, but do you still play badly?”

Jisung scowls at you as he sets the tray down next to his notebook, sitting down criss cross once more before swiftly snatching the guitar from your hands. “I play better than you, at least.” Ignoring your protests, he then strums a few chords of his own and continues, “Why are you still awake, anyway? Don’t you have a 9 AM later?”

When he turns to you, he sees you taking a sip of your tea first before answering, “I feel like ditching,” a statement he’s definitely never heard from you before by the way his eyes widen in surprise. “Don’t act so surprised! Uni’s just a cover and a way to get hearts while we’re here in the human world, anyway. Since everyone could be here later and there’s a possibility that we’ll see Hyunjin again with them, I wouldn’t want to miss a second of him back.”

“Don’t tell me, am I rubbing off on you?” Jisung snickers playfully. Deep inside, however, he’s undoubtedly a little impressed. After all, it’s been a while since he’s seen you so carefree outside of royal duties. “This is bad. We’re still competing, you know!”

“Tch, don’t push it. My current count’s quite high so I’m not that worried.” You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back against the windowsill and gazing ahead to the brightly-lit city. “It’s just that it’s been 5 months since Hyunjin’s gone missing and Yeji started combing every inch of Seoul, only to find a lead out in Incheon. I want to see him as much as you do.”

Jisung nods slowly in agreement, picking up the second mug of tea and taking a sip. It’s chocolate matcha, the flavour you always craved on elementary school field trips back in the magical realm whenever you missed home or so Felix once said. “It’s been that long, huh? And we’ve been here taking our exam for 4 months now.” He muses out loud between sips of tea, warming him up in an instant against the unusually cold night. “Time flies a little weirder when you’re on the other side of the moon, don’t you think?”

“I think you’ve just been having too much fun flirting with humans.” You point out, gesturing over to his emerald ring. Over the months, you’ve noticed that the vessels grow warmer every time you reach a thousand points which is roughly every 100 hearts or so. In the rare moments these days that Jisung’s ring has accidentally brushed against your skin, usually at the bus or when passing dishes along, the stone feels intimidatingly hot and almost burning. “How much do you have already?”

“Enough to win against you.” He teases playfully as he hums along to his song, making you scoff. “I mean, it’s been fun. Gaining a lot of ecure here has made my magic feel more powerful but, still, I can’t help but think sometimes that this whole exam would’ve been fun if the 4 of us were complete.”

You take another sip of your tea, listening along to Jisung’s humming. “If Hyunjin didn’t disappear beforehand and scared off Lia and her parents from letting her compete...yeah, I guess it would’ve been much more fun if we’re all competing together and the exam duration was 1 year like normal.” Thinking about it more, you end up chuckling at imagining how this whole exam could’ve gone differently. “But, at the same time, it’s been fun competing with you so far.”

“Going soft on me?” He raises a brow with a smirk. “I know we’ve been stuck to each other like glue for the past months but you should look out for that heart of yours, it might turn pink for me again.”

“I mean you’ve put up a fight so far. It’s a professional compliment, don’t exaggerate it.” You roll your eyes with a slight snicker, making him laugh. You purposely ignore his last comment, though, knowing that he wouldn’t really look into your feelings for him, anything but that. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going soft on me. Seungmin told me about the purple hearts.”

“He what?!” Jisung exclaims, his smug expression instantly morphing into panic as he almost throws his guitar off of the balcony. “Wait, I can explain!”

You shake your head and wave your hand dismissively. “No, you don’t have to! I understand.” You assure with a laugh, placing your hand on his nearest shoulder and making him sit back down when he wobbles over the messy and narrow space. “Though, yeah, I probably would’ve yelled at you if Seungmin told me any earlier but it’s all said and done now, anyway. I appreciate it, actually.”

“A lot of guys were being creeps to you so I thought...I got protective, okay? Ryujin and Yeji were getting stares too so even Seungmin would do the same thing to protect them.” Jisung pouts. “I know we’re in a competition and we’re supposed to rake up a bunch of hearts but your dignity’s much more important than some stupid crown...”

“I know, and I also know that you would’ve done it for Lia if she were here.” You nod understandingly, mustering up a small appreciative smile. Jisung can be sweet if he wants to, you conclude internally. “Ah, seriously, just imagine if there was 4 of us competing. This would’ve been much more fun and less stressful. You would’ve gotten your ass handed to you when you wanted to race to the moon.”

“Tch, Hyunjin would’ve taken all of the red ecures for himself.” Jisung adds, sharing in your quiet laughs now that the conversation’s shifted once more. “Much like how he charms everyone back home. He might even win, like he always does in every challenge the elders give us. He’s just the favourite!”

“I can’t wait for him to come home safely. He’s been gone for too long.” You sigh against your tea, tiredly adjusting to the uncomfortable space of the window. Seeing this from the corner of his eyes, Jisung doesn’t hesitate to pass you a pillow and nearby blankets this time which you’re more than grateful for. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over and go home, just visit again when I feel like it.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to see him.” Jisung sighs, peering down onto the balcony as he adjusts his guitar on his lap. “And I can’t wait to go home, too.”

And just then, the car that Chan used to drive everyone over to Incheon materializes at the front porch, spewing out Chan, your friends, and Hyunjin who’s supported by Seungmin and Yeji.

five out of six months

Hyunjin sports distinctly black cuts and gashes across his arms and legs when you greet the group in front of the house, similar to the ones Chan and Changbin also sported one time when the two also had an encounter with dark magic. Limping on his right leg and supported by his arms, Yeji and Seungmin used their magic to lift him over to the nearest sofa once they’ve reached the other side of Chan’s protective spell from the front door while the rest of the group crash into the vast expanse of the living room.

“I tried healing him as much as I can so it’s easier for you and Ryujin.” Seungmin huffs, tiredly sitting down on the ground by the coffee table. “He’s mostly fine, just exposed to a lot of dark magic.”

“And you guys? Are you okay? Is anyone else hurt?” You ask worriedly, darting your eyes over to Chan, Yeji, and Chaeryoung who all individually affirm to you that they’re not nursing any big injuries. “What happened?”

At that moment, Jisung arrives in the living room with a half-sleepy Minho and a frantically running Ryujin who immediately makes a beeline to Hyunjin and Yeji. Standing next to you, he echoes the exact same question to Seungmin. “What happened? Is Hyunjin going to be okay?”

You kneel down in front of Hyunjin, right next to Ryujin, and examine the cuts and gashes. Meanwhile, Jisung sits next to Seungmin while Minho runs over to Chan. “Turns out, they’ve been keeping Hyunjin to try and get him to activate the artifact.” Seungmin answers Jisung’s question after a moment, taking out the stolen compass that Hyunjin was supposed to retrieve from this world. “Then they heard that you and Jisung were going to proceed with the exam. So they tried using him as bait as well but the protective spells the elders casted on you two made it hard for them to find you even when they planned to separate our group.”

“We got there before they could manipulate my brother into it with dark magic.” Yeji continues tiredly in between casting her own spells, making her smaller wounds and a sprained ankle disappear. “They were quite hostile but we managed. It’s just that Hyunjin still hasn’t woken up since we took him.”

“Then aren’t you glad we stayed at home, Ji?” You mumbled under your breath as you and Ryujin casted spells to identify the magic needed to heal the half-conscious Hyunjin’s injuries. “Hyunjin’s probably not waking up because of exposure. We’ll have to determine just how much dark magic those witches used.”

Behind you, Jisung grumbles stubbornly at your comment. “So, is Hyunjin okay? What’s the diagnosis?”

Hovering your hand over Hyunjin’s chest, his heart suddenly reflects a horrifying black over your magic and making yours and Ryujin’s eyes widen. “Oh no…”

“What?” Suddenly, Jisung’s next to you and peering over Hyunjin’s ecure. “What the hell? Why is his heart black?”

Ryujin then places her hands over Hyunjin’s forehead, going through his fresher memories as her eyes turn a bright blue. “He’s...it’s an ancient spell, a really powerful one.” She eventually concludes, turning to Chan after. “Chan, do you think you can take a look at this?”

Across the room, Chan stands up with Minho’s help, having just treated a healing cut on his leg, and sits on Ryujin’s other side to briefly access the same memories. “The three of us can do it,” He gestures to you and Ryujin with pursed lips. “But it’ll take hours and a whole lot of ecure. We’ll need to purify his heart with an equally powerful spell.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Jisung immediately turn to you in worry, as if he already knows what you’re going to say. “Y/N, don’t—”

But you’re already reaching for your locket, forcing the stone to reveal its contents. “I can give up mine. It’ll save you both your energies and time.” You assure, tuning out Jisung’s protests.

“A-Are you sure?” Ryujin asks worriedly, echoing Jisung’s concerns. Next to her, Chan shakes his head at you in equal concern. “Y/N, these are your ecures for the candidacy exam, you can’t just—not right now when you’re almost do—”

“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that we save Hyunjin.” You nod without any hesitation. “Anyway, I have enough for both purifying Hyunjin’s heart and healing his wounds. It’s fine.”

You then take out more hearts from your locket, the clumped crystals of oranges, greens, pinks, and reds hovering above Hyunjin as he continues lulling in and out of consciousness and his body tries rejecting the prior spells Yeji casted to help him heal. Before you could fully empty out the vessel, however, Jisung’s hand with his emerald ring flies over yours to stop you. “Wait!” He exclaims, startling you, Ryujin, and Chan. “I’ll give up some of mine too. Don’t empty yours out.”

“Ji—”

“—Y/N.” He snaps frustratingly, raising his voice and confusing you further. “Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.”

This seems to effectively catch you off-guard. Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to stop you, not letting your hand go while he summons his own collected hearts out from his ring and firmly making sure that you don’t argue with him further until Chan has reluctantly made sure that you have enough ecures to convert into magic. Even then, he doesn’t let you go by your hand and instead moves his over to your free hand while Chan instructs you and Ryujin on how to purify a black heart.

“J-Jisung.” You call for him once your initial annoyance of him stopping you has died down, eyes widening when he glances back at you with worry. “I need my two hands.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He lets go of your hand immediately, keeping his hands down on his lap before leaving the three of you to check on Seungmin, Yeji, and Chaeryoung. “Sorry…”

You cough out awkwardly as he leaves, glaring at Ryujin when she musters up a teasing smile despite your current predicament.

“He’s right, you know.” Chan comments after a while, instructing you the following spells while the dark color of Hyunjin’s ecure fades to a glowing white.

“Don’t start.” When you send a glare over your own cousin’s way, however, he quickly drops the subject with a shrug.

Purifying a darkened heart, as it turns out, lasts until the very break of dawn as the three of you exhaust the ecures you and Jisung have put out to heal Hyunjin. As time ticks by agonizingly slow for Hyunjin who could only lay back on the sofa and absorb all of your energies to heal himself, Minho eventually gets everyone to clear the living room and sleep in the much more comfortable guest rooms after making sure that no one is greatly injured before hurling himself to the kitchen and make breakfast.

But you see Jisung stay from the corner of your eye, taking up space on your opposite side to steal glances at you or comfort Hyunjin. From the way his eyebrows furrow over his sleepy eyes and how he refuses to leave even when you awkwardly tell him off, you could tell that he too can’t make out your previous exchange.

“—Y/N. Please, let me help! I don’t want you to empty your count, I’m not letting you.” You know that he acted the way he did because it was Hyunjin that you were trying to save, one of his best friends. But the way he sounded so angry, the way he snapped at you in the spur of the moment, a small part of your thoughts wants to make you think that he had other reasons for doing what he did.

“Hyunjin? How are you feeling?” Chan asks after 2 hours of nonstop spellcasting, halting you and Ryujin in your steps after. “Can you sit up?”

Your eyes turn blue at the same time you see Jisung’s turn green, surveying Hyunjin’s heart for any hints of leftover dark magic. Meanwhile, Hyunjin struggles to sit up with Jisung’s help, tiredly groaning under his breath. “Much b-better.” He manages to stumble out after a moment, mustering up a small smile despite the dizzying and overwhelming fel. “Thanks, you guys.”

You sigh in relief, resting your back against the coffee table behind you before nodding. “Finally…”

“Come on, Hyunnie, I’ll move you upstairs.” Chan volunteers, standing up from his position on the floor and briefly stretching his arms out. Turning to you, Ryujin, and Jisung, he then adds, “You guys get some rest too. Just skip for today and tomorrow. I’ll write to everyone back home.”

You don’t even argue against your cousin this time, finding yourself nodding when he gives you the same look he always does whenever you intend on shouldering some work for him. Standing up from the floor, you, Ryujin, and Jisung then head upstairs in silence.

The entire walk, you feel Jisung stealing glances over to you but you decide to not act on it, shaking your head when he suddenly opens his mouth to speak before the two of you could go on your separate ways.

“Y/N, wait—” “Goodnight, Jisung.”

Growing up, Jisung has always relied on two people in helping him through the crisis of accidentally going too far with you: Chan and Felix. Chan, obviously, because he’s your cousin and the only other friend he has who harbors an inkling of a braincell and Felix because he’s everyone’s favourite and he knows the kinds of snacks that get on your good graces. These moments when he’s actually pushed your buttons too far are rare (as much as the two of you like to express your annoyance over each other, you’ve actually come to understand that this is just your dynamic growing up), but Jisung personally keeps a list of steps to do in situations like this anyway. Now more than ever, it seems, because suddenly, it feels weird and awkward being around each other—and not the usual kind.

But as fate would have it, Chan is busy working out how to safely get Hyunjin home and explaining to the elders what happened. If normally Jisung would be asking Chan first about you and what he could say when he confronts you, this time he’s asking all of them to his twin brother who’s more than willing to listen (after listening to Yeji, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung gossip everything to him prior, of course).

“Why did you do that anyway?” Felix points out on the other side of the call, snuggling into a pillow as night falls on both realms. It’s been 3 days since Hyunjin returned and both the house and the officials back at home have been busy arranging his return with Yeji, Seungmin, Ryujin, and Chaeryoung; only allowing for the twins to talk in the late hours of the night. “And you said it angrily too from what Ryujin told me. No offense, bro, I’d feel a little weird if you raised your voice at me, too, then offered up half of your collection on their behalf.”

Jisung groans in frustration, running his hand through his hair as he shuffles uncomfortably around his bed sheets. “I don’t know, it’s just...I was thinking of a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“This candidacy exam, what Chan told me beforehand, Hyunjin, Y/N…” The older twin purses his lips, taking his eyes away from Felix to gaze down at his hands. The emerald ring is much cooler now after losing ecure but somehow, it feels heavy on Jisung’s ring finger. “I thought that it’d be unfair if they lose all of their ecure at this point in the race, trying to save Hyunjin, then the elders might not be too pleased about it when we return. But most importantly, I thought about what Chan told me when Minho first arrived, about how Y/N’s always jumping at every opportunity to help other people without thinking too much of themself. I was right there with my own vessel of hearts for them to use and if I just let them empty out theirs, then I’d be letting them get the short end of the stick in the long run again.”

Felix nods along understandingly at his brother’s words, all the while trying to hide a smile behind his hand. So Yeji was right! “So why did you call me, then? You seem to have your reasons sorted out, just tell Y/N what you told me.” He shrugs after Jisung’s extensive speech, giggling at the dramatic reaction that he receives from his brother after. “I know you guys aren’t those emotional kinds of people to each other but you said so yourself that Y/N’s been quieter these days and that it’s been eating at your conscience. I say you just go for it and tell them how you feel.”

“I’m not you, Lix. Y/N’s going to laugh at me.” Jisung pouts helplessly. “I can’t just tell them that.”

“You’re so dramatic! It just implies that you care about Y/N like a decent human being. Anyone in your situation who knows what you know about them would’ve been considerate enough to do the same thing.” Felix argues back, rubbing his temples at how the older boy’s acting. “Don’t get it twisted, brother...unless you want it to, of course.”

“Ya, and what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Figure it out yourself.” Felix sticks his tongue out teasingly before laughing and waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, Yeji told me that Y/N’s been craving blueberry pancakes lately. You can just make them right now and give it tomorrow so you don’t have to go out.”

“If anything, I want to leave the house right now and never come back.” Jisung grumbles back in frustration before sighing in defeat. “For the first time, I can’t believe you’re no help at all, Lix. I’m hanging up.”

“Tch, you just can’t handle the truth, Sung. Anyway, I have to go too, mom and dad are asking me to come to this thing. I’ll update you on it later! Love you! Bye!” Felix then waves to the call one last time before hanging up, leaving Jisung in the uncomfortable silence of his room.

Jisung sighs against the heavy blankets, throwing his phone to the other side of the mattress before ultimately deciding on standing up and heading to your room across the hall. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, it’s not like I like them or anything like that! Nothing to worry about! Let’s not get it twisted.

When he opens the door, however, the first person he unexpectedly sees outside the hallways is you just as you close the door behind your own room. “Y/N!” He ends up blurting out loud in the moment, catching your attention with wide eyes. Not knowing what else to say, the first thought that comes to mind is, “Are you going to Hyunjin’s room?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “No, I’m going to the kitchen?”

“O-Oh.” He runs his hand through his hair once more in nervousness, nodding along and hiding the heat rising up his neck in embarrassment. “Well, I’m going there too. Mind if I join you?”

You simply nod in response, walking down the end of the hallway with him in relative silence. He hasn’t seen you much since Hyunjin’s arrived either since you spent most of your time checking your mutual friend for his condition and brewing tea. The dramatic gears in Jisung’s head would like to think that it’s just pure convenience.

“So, what did you and Felix talk about?” “How’s Hyunjin?”

Jisung glances over to you on his right just as you mirror his actions, the gesture somehow making him flustered this time around as he’s quick to look away. “S-Sorry. Um, we just—talked about how things are back home.” He shrugs in his best feigned nonchalance, mentally cringing at how visibly awkward he looks as the two of you go down the stairs anyway. Not that it’s a lie, anyway, he and Felix did talk about other topics besides you. “Everything’s pretty busy back home since the elders are talking about how Hyunjin coming back is going to affect the exam now.”

“Oh.” You nod along almost absentmindedly. “That’s...yeah, I’ve heard about it too. It’s pretty hectic on my mom’s end right now.”

“So...how’s Hyunjin?” Jisung chimes in almost a little too quickly, feeling even more awkward that he accidentally brought up your candidacy exam again. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You purposely pretend to not notice anyway, answering his questions carefully as you approach a curve into the spiral staircase. “He’s regaining his strength at least. Still on bedrest but he should be okay by the weekend when Changbin fetches him and the others.” The two of you then pass through the living room to get to the kitchen, finding Minho and Chan cuddled up on one of the sofas as they watch a movie on the television.

The kitchen, on the other hand, is deserted when you turn on the lights which Jisung internally thanks every guest in the house for before taking a deep breath. “About what I said back then, by the way…” He starts carefully, catching your attention before you could even detach yourself from him to open the nearby fridge. You freeze a few steps ahead of him, making the poor boy gulp nervously. “Um, I’m sorry that I raised my voice at you. I shouldn’t have done that, even when I was stressing out.”

Much like when he actually did raise his voice, you momentarily freeze in your spot before eventually shaking your head reassuringly and moving over to the fridge. “It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize for that.” You add with a small smile, taking out the fruit bowl from the fridge. “Is that why you’ve been quiet these past days? It’s okay, really.”

“I haven’t been—it’s you who’s—” Jisung stops himself halfway before he could even start another argument, biting down his lip before shaking his head. Walking over to the stove area, he then opens a few cabinets in search of the pancake mix while you shuffle around the area behind him. “A little, yeah. It’s just that it looked like it bothered you so it bothered me too.”

When Jisung then glances over his shoulder, he sees you approaching with the fruit bowl hugged close to your chest. “I thought about it a few times. After that, I just thought that you were bothered so I couldn’t talk to you after.” You explain slowly, voice growing louder as you set the bowl next to him. In the dim lights of the kitchen, he suddenly can’t tell if you’re lying or not. “But it’s all good now. Are you making pancakes?”

Jisung nods sheepishly, finally finding the pancake mix in the deeper crevices of the cabinet and taking it out with a pan and spatula from the adjacent cabinet. “No, but you have to know that—that—”

“Hm? What?” You raise your brows curiously, taking the pan and spatula for him before proceeding to the stove and twisting the knobs to preheat.

“You’re not letting me finish.” Jisung points out with a feigned disapproving situation while quickly preparing the pancake mix, one which you somehow find amusing enough to laugh at. “Come on, don’t laugh, my twin made me say a bunch of things then coerced me into telling you so I’d—”

“Yeah, I know.”

“—So, I appreciate it if you’d lis—wait, you know?!” His feigned expression then turns into one of surprise once more as you nod and break into giggles. “W-What?!”

“You were being really loud, Hyunjin was even complaining to me from the next room by phone that he can’t sleep because of you.” You chuckle in amusement, nudging him by the arm when you notice that he’s slowed down his mixing. “He said something about you complaining to Felix about something or whatever. I don’t know, I was on a call with Lia.”

“Then why did you—? So, you just came out here for pancakes?!”

“No! I wanted to hear what you were going to say! I didn’t hear any word besides the pancakes, I swear...well, not clearly at least.”

By now, all of the awkwardness has immediately dissipated as Jisung stops mixing the pancake mix altogether to turn to you and cross his arms. “You’re unbelievable.” He pretends to roll his eyes and scoff at you, earning him a glare. You then swipe the pancake mix from his hands, pouring them into the pan in big circles. “And you still have the audacity to make me do this pancake mix.”

“Well, you’re already mixing it so might as well.” You shrug with a knowing smile before nudging him again by the handle of the spatula. “Now, go on, what were you going to say?”

Jisung shoots you one last incredulous look but you effectively counter it by encouraging him, promising that you “won’t laugh.” “Ah, well...I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t go all out wasting all of your collected hearts at this point, not when we’re almost done with the exam.” He blurts out, gazing down and fiddling with the fruit bowl while you take spoonfuls of blueberries from it to mix with the pancakes. “I want to win but it won’t be fun if your tally suddenly drops, right?”

When he looks up, you’re raising your brow at his last comment as you make more pancakes. “I mean, I know you want to do what’s best for everyone but you have to look out for yourself too. Geez.” With a sigh, he then corrects which makes you nod in agreement. “A-And I guess lean on us too. We’re your family and friends, don’t shoulder all of the work for us all the time.”

“I doubt I can lean on you.” You tease, flipping through your second batch of pancakes to cook. When Jisung sends a glare your way, you simply stick your tongue out at him. “Kidding.”

“I get all emotional and all you say is that you doubt you can lean on me. Unbelievable…” Jisung scoffs, stuffing his mouth with more blueberries in feigned annoyance.

The blueberry-filled pancakes are all eventually set on a plate you find on your opposite side, stacked up as a tall tower leaning on one side. Carefully passing Jisung the plate, you then twist the stove’s knobs off and reply, “You also made me cook the pancakes you wanted to make for me so I think that makes us even.”

“Y/N!” He whines between mouthfuls of blueberries as you move around him to transfer the pan and spatula to the sink.

You sigh in defeat, chuckling when you meet gazes once more and see him sulking with his cheeks full. “Right, right, I’m sorry!” You then beckon him over to the dining table, taking the fruit bowl on his side. “A-And...you know, thank you for that. We’re all good now, right?”

“If you are.”

“Definitely. Want to eat with me? I still owe you that meal from our first day.”

six out of six months

Your mother as well as the high jury of elders from back home eventually proposed that you and Jisung finish your Crown Candidacy exam while Hyunjin, should he eventually announce that he wants to participate as well in the incoming 6 months, do his under stricter supervision in the following year. This ensures fairness in your situations, that yours and Jisung’s efforts aren’t wasted in the past 5 months while also thinking of Hyunjin who wasn’t around in time for the traditional schedule of the exam. When Hyunjin was escorted home by Changbin and Felix, however, he briefly hinted towards a plan on refusing the candidacy and the exam. He left with the others before you or Jisung could even ask him about it.

Regardless, you and your sole competitor easily fall back into the race as soon as Hyunjin, Yeji, Seungmin, and Chaeryoung have settled their business in the human world and went home, returning to university over a week later to regain the ecures that you lost. Not that it’s suddenly harder, anyway. Timely as it is, an announcement for a school festival at the end of the month has Jisung signing up to perform while you join the organizing committee to spend more time with your human friends.

In the time that you’ve spent in the human world, you’ve made many genuine friends beyond collecting their ecure for your exam, especially in your classmates Yuna and Jeongin. Though they don’t know about your true nature, the two have unknowingly aided you a lot in your mission by accompanying you through the different activities around university.

Yuna, in particular, was even the one who first mentioned the school festival to you, encouraging you to join the events committee with her and invite Jisung to perform. “It’s free backstage passes and we can see all of the artists up close!” She sighed dreamily on the day she showed you the gold and red poster that she picked up from the department bulletin board. “And come on, you’re really good at organizing stuff! We should do it together!”

And more hearts to collect, you thought to yourself when you accepted and attended the orientation.

And more hearts it was, indeed, as you spend the next 3 weeks meeting people from different colleges as you and Yuna are assigned to helping organize the music performance for the end of the festival. With your previous experience fulfilling your duties back at home, it’s unsurprisingly easier for you to juggle the work assigned to you—contacting students to perform, arranging the program flow, and turning the university football field into a makeshift mini concert stadium—with socializing and fulfilling your original mission of collecting hearts.

Across from your room at home, on the other hand, Jisung has been busy spending the same time making his own music to perform at the music festival. You invited him to perform some time after starting your work with the festival committee—well, your friends insisted that you invite him and Chan after finding out that the famous DJ, CB97, is your cousin and that you and the “College of Psychology Cutie” commute home together (“Don’t tell me...are you guys secretly dating?!” Yuna had shamelessly asked during one of your meetings, to which you had to smack your hand over her mouth and improvise a cover story for you and Jisung that you live in the same neighbourhood).

Jisung accepted at the thought that he could garner a huge crowd of hearts from this opportunity, cooping himself up in his room right after the following days that followed to complete his 15-minute set. Ever since, all you’ve heard coming from his room in the middle of the night would be guitar strums, drum loops, and the faintest hints of Jisung’s voice singing along to freestyle raps and lines.

He mostly sang about love, of all things; something you, Minho, and Chan immediately noticed in the next 3 Friday nights that the three of you would be huddled in the living room to watch a movie, only to hear Jisung repeating lines as if he was talking to someone in Chan’s home studio. You wanted to ask about it out of pure curiosity, and just the general worry that he might not be looking after his heart while finishing your exam after all, but decided against it in favor of waiting for the final product at the music festival.

Fortunately, the month somehow went by in almost a flash as you and Jisung both got busy preparing and collecting more hearts on the side. Before you know it, it was the afternoon of the music festival and Felix is suddenly back in the human realm to accompany you and Minho to the school festival.

“So, did he tell you what he prepared for tonight?” Felix asks you as the three of you walk around the festival grounds. Over the course of 3 weeks, you and a large team of student volunteers have managed to haul in food stalls, arcade booths, and rides from the quad all the way to the football field for this festival, amenities which you yourself haven’t tried yet because of your busy schedule but Felix and Minho have both been so overwhelmingly excited to check out even on the bus trip to your university.

In response to the prince’s answer, you shake your head with a small pout. “I just hear him all over the house and I didn’t really want to pry if he didn't want to tell me anything.” You point out, the two of you suddenly changing the course of your mindless walk as Minho points to a crossbow shoot booth. “Why? Doesn’t he tell you what he’s been working on?”

“No! He stops whatever he’s doing whenever we call, even when I ask him to play just a little bit of his work.” Felix is quick to mirror your pout, only for it to disappear when Minho jokes that the two of you help him cheat in the booth as he picks up a crossbow. “I thought since you guys are living together, you’d know better than me.”

“Ah, you kids just wait until Jisung and Chan perform later.” Minho dismisses your concerns, holding the fake crossbow up properly while the staff manning the booth prepares the targets on the other side. “Now, help me win Chan a giant wolf.”

You roll your eyes at Minho, shrugging at Felix. “I guess he’s right. Let’s just help Minho get a giant wolf first.”

Chan and Jisung arrive at university 10 minutes before the music festival from Chan’s studio halfway across the city, initially unable to find you in the crowd of organizers as they set up backstage with Yuna and Jeongin’s help until you call Chan late that you’re “babysitting” Minho and Felix.

“They’ve somehow teamed up and have been competing with the rigged booths since we arrived.” You explained over the voice call, the distant sounds of Minho and Felix yelling while tossing metal rings around almost muffling your own. “I’ll be on my way in a while as soon as Minho leaves the ring toss alone but Yuna and Jeongin are there. Just ask them if you guys need anyth—oh my gods, Felix, you won another plushie? That’s so cool! Wait, I’m on a call with Chan!—uh, yeah. I’ll be there in a second!”

The commotion on your end makes the two boys laugh, even as you bid your goodbyes and end the call, but especially Jisung who’s been looking nervous since he arrived. Throwing his head back in a laugh as he tunes his guitar, he comments, “That’s a bit unexpected. I didn’t know my brother and your boyfriend would get along like that, and this quickly!”

“Beating out rigged games sounds about right.” Chan chuckles along, seated on a plastic chair and running a quick check on his equipment. Turning to the younger boy, he then asks, “Are you still nervous?”

“Me? Nah, I wasn’t even nervous to begin with!” At this, Jisung’s laughs naturally die down to an uncertain shake of his head. He dismisses with a scrunch up nose which Chan immediately raises a brow at.

“Come on, Sung, I practically raised you with the other kids.” Chan proceeds to roll his eyes as Jisung’s brief confident facade crumbles down slowly. “What’s up?”

The boy in question eventually sighs in defeat, shoulders slumping against the plastic chair he occupies. “Fine, maybe I’m a bit nervous! Just a little bit, though, I can still get on stage later! I mean, it’s not like performing here is gonna be different from back home like you said on the way here but…”

“But what?” Chan asks patiently, glancing up to see Jisung’s gaze fixed down on his yellow acoustic guitar. When the younger boy doesn’t respond immediately, he then continues, “I’ve heard bits and pieces of what you’ve been working on this month and all of the songs sound great. You’ll catch a lot of hearts tonight with them, I’m sure. What are you worried about?”

Jisung looks up from his guitar and opens his mouth to speak, only to get cut off when you come in the performer’s tent running and balancing different kinds of microphones in your hands. “Sorry I’m late!” You announce in between tired pants, catching both his and Chan’s attention as you pass the microphones around the artists with Jeongin who instinctively comes to your aid. “I was with my friends and they wouldn’t budge from the ring toss!”

“I think I’m going to faint.” Jisung mumbles under his breath with furrowed brows, loud enough for only Chan to hear, until you approach them last with their microphones.

“Mics?” You offer obliviously, holding up the last 2 hand mics in your possession. Passing one to Chan quickly, you then sit down next to Jisung and pass him his hand mic. “Hey, you’re up fourth, right?”

Jisung glances over to Chan with a panicked look but the older boy simply shakes his head with a chuckle and focuses on his keyboard. Turning to you, Jisung then nods quickly with a hum before gazing down at his guitar and the laptop he’s set up on the table in front of you two.

Immediately sensing his odd behavior, you then hover your hands in the space between the two of you in a quick spell, eventually verifying his nervous feelings. “Yeah, totally not nervous.” You chuckle in amusement, laughing even more when he turns to you and whines in complaint.

“Ya! Don’t do that!”

“Well, it’s not like you’re that good at hiding your nervousness!” You point out in defense, holding your hands up in front of you in between uncontrollable fits of giggles. When the glare he sends your way doesn’t relax one bit, you then fish out a small quokka plush from your backpack. “Anyway, Felix was kinda expecting that you’d be a little nervous so wanted me to give you this plushie he won at the milk bottle game with Minho for good luck. He would’ve given it himself but LUCY was already performing when we came here so he dragged Minho to the audience area before I could even bring him here.”

You then place the plush toy on the table right next to his laptop, looking around once to make sure that no one is looking your way before mouthing a quick spell to shrink the quokka into something smaller that he can hang on his guitar strap. As you do so, Chan notices how Jisung’s ears are quick to turn red as he follows your every movement. “You can stick it to your guitar strap and bring it with you to the stage.” You point out once you’re done, only then noticing his stares. “What?”

“Huh?” Jisung shakes his head absentmindedly, mentally slapping himself back to reality before scrambling to pick up the plush toy by the chain you added on top of its head and tying it to the small hole along the edge of his guitar strap. “O-Oh, yeah, thanks!”

You chuckle, just as Yuna suddenly calls for you to help in getting the next act’s microphone stands on stage. Standing up, you then pat Jisung’s shoulder reassuringly, saying one last, “Don’t be nervous!” before running off again to where most of your committee members are.

Once you’re out of earshot, only then does Chan look up from his equipment once more but this time with a knowing grin and squinted eyes. “Yeah, Sung, don’t be nervous!”

Jisung rolls his eyes in front of the older boy at this, securing the quokka plushie on his guitar strap one last time. “Shut up.”

Your committee heads lay you off of work just as Jisung heads to the stage for his set, the small quokka plush you gave him dangling behind his fretboard with a toothy grin while he sets up his laptop and greets the energetic crowd. When you discreetly scan the people’s ecures while standing behind the curtains, you quickly spot a growing number of pinks and oranges. “Such a charmer.” Chan notes, eyes also blue when you look up at him.

You nod in agreement, reverting back to your original color as more of your peers gather around the curtains to listen to Jisung’s introduction. “Um, hi, I’m Han Jisung from the Psych department.” You hear him greet with a shy chuckle over the microphone, earning him another wave of cheers. Behind you, even Yuna and Jeongin cheer despite Jisung having his back partially facing you. “This is my first time performing here at uni and the songs that I’ve prepared so please go easy on me.”

You then turn to Chan again, taking a sideways step closer to him as a thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Chan,” You call for him in a lower voice, craning your head up when he leans towards you. “Have you heard of the songs he’s going to perform tonight? You were together before coming here, right?”

“Only a little bit. We mostly talked while we were at the studio.” Chan shrugs in response. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise to everyone.”

On stage, Jisung then checks his guitar one last time before announcing the name of the first song. “So, this first song is something that I’ve been thinking about since I moved here. It’s called ‘Close.’” He says, pressing play on his loops and singing the first lines of the song. “Can you tell me about you? You, seen from afar. I just don't want to watch. Yeah Just tell me about you.”

Jisung is a great performer, there’s no doubt about it. Though you’ve grown up hearing him sing and rap at your more casual events back at home, he always manages to surprise you every time he performs just with the way he enjoys himself on stage. You can see him smile widely from the side of the stage, his nervousness long gone as he interacts with the crowd and collects the pink crystal hearts that float above your heads.

“He’s really good…” You murmur, more to yourself than to Chan, as you find yourself gently swaying to the song. “What was he even worried about? It’s a great song…”

Chan glances knowingly at you, a small smile playing on his lips as you sing along to the next round of the chorus. “I don’t think he has nothing to worry about too, not right now at least.”

“Hm?” “Nothing.”

In truth, even with the positive response from the crowd and the amount of ecures he’s collected from this set alone, Jisung is still nervous for his last song. “Sunshine” was supposed to be just another warm-up song with barely a cohesive topic, a compilation of sketches about his experiences in the human world that he spent his free time on when he wasn’t collecting hearts these past 6 months. As more time passed by, however, and the time of your exam was suddenly coming to a close, they eventually took a different direction without him even realizing it until you were inviting him to perform at this music festival.

The times that the two of you would bicker just to laugh at each other in the end, the competition that brought the bests and worsts in you, and your chocolate matcha tea and musings on the one time you sat down with him on his balcony. Eventually, you were all he was writing about. On top of the nervousness that comes with finishing the competition you’ve found yourselves in for half a year and finding out who will be declared the winner, Jisung was more nervous about the thought that you’re just behind the stage curtains with Chan, anticipating his next song.

“For my last song, I picked this one for someone I know whom I’ve spent a lot of time with these past few months.” He confesses shyly in front of the crowds. Among the hundreds of people that came tonight, he easily spots his twin brother in front of the barriers with Minho, sporting the most exaggerated surprised face ever. “I was hoping that when all of this is said and over, we’d get well-deserved breaks...maybe music and tea at night again or something.”

Jisung doesn’t have to turn around to gauge your initial reaction as he begins the song, Felix’s expression turning into that of giddiness as he looks over at the stage curtains is enough to set every gear in his head to pump out more nervousness. Instead, he pushes through until halfway to the song before he could steal his first glance over to you since beginning his set.

With his eyes still an emerald green from scanning the crowd’s ecures, your eyes meet under the harsh stage lights as he sings the bridge. “This place is quiet without a sound ye ye ye. Quiet except for the sound of our breaths ye ye ye.” He doesn’t intend to look again, not in that split second before he’s turning his gaze back to the crowd of cellphone lights and LED signs, but he sees your heart’s reflection once more.

Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. You didn’t even turn away this time and simply just stood there, heat visibly rising up your neck.

Reminiscent of when you first confessed in middle school, a pinkish heart floats by the sleeves of your sweater, almost looking red if he just looked longer. This time around, however, you don’t turn away to try and hide it.

And this time around, Jisung doesn’t childishly call you out for it or ignores it. This time, it makes his own heart swell at the thought.

The car ride home, with Chan on the wheel and three extra boxes of equipment most of the backseats in his SUV, is a comfortable and awkward mix of quiet between you and Jisung as the two of you are forced to sit next to each other in the cramped space. You sit by the window, using it as an excuse to peer outside and avoid any kind of small talk from the boys, while Jisung has hisi eyes glued to his phone while a sleeping Felix snuggles into his shoulder. The only human noise in the car, as it seems, is coming from Minho and Chan as the two recall the songs the latter and Jisung performed at the program.

It’s even quieter at the thought that you, Jisung, and Felix will fly back to the magical realm tomorrow, something that Minho reminds you when he suddenly asks, “Right, what do you kids want me to cook for lunch later, by the way?”

The question comes right as the car suddenly comes to an abrupt stop at Chan’s garage, masking the way you and Jisung simultaneously jump in surprise. You instinctively glance over to him after with wide eyes, before gazing over at Minho who has a poorly-hidden snicker on his expression from the front passenger seat. “Um,” You stutter out awkwardly, glaring at Minho when he smirks teasingly over your way. “Anything’s fine for me.”

Jisung nods over to your direction in agreement. “Yeah, anything’s fine.”

Minho nods with pursed lips, as if he was biting down a laugh. “Does crispy pork belly sound good?” He asks, earning him nods from you. “Okay. You guys have been quiet back here this entire time, you guys good?”

“Yeah?” “Totally.”

Clearly unconvinced, Minho shakes his head and scoffs before twisting his upper body to face front once more, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door next to him. “Oh, kids…”

You roll your eyes at the comment before stealing a glance over at Jisung again, only to find the boy already staring at you. “W-What?” You manage to ask this time despite your initial surprise. In front of you, Chan has already turned the engine off and left the driver’s seat to open the back of the car. “You okay, Ji?”

He hums almost absentmindedly, phone now set down on his lap as he fiddles with his hands nervously. “Yeah, um—” He stutters out, biting his lips down once. Briefly glancing at his side, he then gestures towards his twin and adds, “Wait, sorry, um, let me wake Lix first.”

“Okay.” You nod awkwardly, deciding to unbuckle your own seatbelt and open the car door next to you. Jisung then gently shakes Felix awake, leading his brother out through the same car door since the opposite one’s blocked by more of his and Chan’s equipment.

“You go on ahead, Lix, I’ll just talk to Y/N.” You hear Jisung say as the three of you now stand outside in the cold, levitating boxes of instruments and computers flying over your head and heading inside the house.

Felix nods at this immediately, sleepily bidding you and Jisung with loose hugs before trudging back inside the house with Chan and Minho.

Once the doors leading back to the house fully close on the two of you, only then are you engulfed in the same awkward silence again and the two of you, for the third time in the past 6 months, speak up at the same time.

“So um—” “—Yeah, a while ago—”

This time, the two of you chuckle awkwardly over speaking at the same time again. You then gesture for him to go ahead and speak first as you adjust your sweater’s placement on your shoulder.

Instinctively, Jisung fixes your sweater for you before speaking, causing him to stutter a little. “S-Sorry, um…” He licks his lip awkwardly, retracting his hand as fast as he can and moving a step back. “Yeah, I meant to say that I didn’t...I didn’t mean to look at your heart.”

Suddenly, at such an important moment, you’re speechless and frozen in front of Jisung. Your hands find their way down the hem of your sweater, absentmindedly playing with the loose threads as you shift your weight on the balls of your feet and stutter out your response. “I-I um…”

Simultaneously, Jisung takes in a huge intake of breath and continues, “I looked at you because I actually made the song for you—well, about you but not in a weird way! It can be for you too, that is if you want it!—”

“Jisung?”

“Ah, anyway, I’m losing track! Just, I looked at you because I wanted to know what you thought of it the most in the moment, you know—”

“Jisung…”

“And I didn’t realize that my eyes were still green and I saw so I looked away as fast as I could, I swear—!”

“Ji.”

“I know you don’t want me looking into your heart and stuff because of before. I promise I won’t do it again—”

Realizing that he’s not going to stop in his ramblings, you then impulsively take a step towards him and grab him by his arms. “Ji, it’s fine.” You shake him gently, effectively stopping the endless flow of thought. “I mean, you already saw it and everything.”

“But I—”

“Just don’t lash out or stop talking to me again while I sort it out.” You shrug reassuringly with a sigh, reluctantly sliding your hands off of him and taking a step back again as you see him listen intently to your words. “It’s just pink, anyway, it can still go away like before. Just don’t avoid me again this time.”

Though he’s clearly been listening intently, you see his brows furrow and his expression suddenly becomes confused towards the end of your words. “What?” He echoes helplessly after you. “No, I...why would I stop talking to you? That was a long time ago. I won’t do that now, I...”

“Then just don’t take my heart or something.” You point out, almost like a question as his reaction confuses you similarly. “Anyway, that’s not the point, like I said, I’ll sort it ou—”

“Don’t.” He cuts you off immediately this time with more conviction, shaking his head and suddenly taking your hand. “Don’t sort it out. Don’t make it go away or anything.”

“What? Why?”

You’re pulled closer again, Jisung mumbling an incantation to show his ecure under his breath. “Look at mine.” He points out, a pink crystal heart floating over to your upturned palm as he holds onto you by your wrist. “If anything, I should be the one telling you to not take mine on the spot or something.”

“It’s pink.” You muse out loud in surprise, the warmth of his ecure feeling overwhelming as it floats above your hand. “And it’s for me…?”

Jisung rolls his eyes at this in disbelief, nodding patiently anyway. “Who else would it be for?” He scoffs gently, making the heart disappear before it could burn your palm. “I don’t know since when it’s been like that, maybe it’s been like that for a long time even I don’t know I’ve only looked at it while Chan and I were at the studio. All I’m sure is that suddenly I was writing a song for you and sacrificing half of my ecure count so you don’t lose easily in the exam and looking out for you and—just, this time it’s me who’s afraid that you’ll run away or disappear for a while if you knew.”

“So don’t...sort it out.” He concludes after unknowingly speaking at such a fast rate, heaving belatedly from this. “I like you now, I like you a lot, and I’m not going to lash out like when we were kids. Take my heart if you want just don’t change your feelings for me, please.”

There’s a brief pause that follows, the only noise ringing in your ears being the unusually loud beating of your own heart as the two of you freeze in place. Jisung tries waiting as patiently as he visibly can in this silence, puffing air in and out of his lips as he fails at trying to conceal his recurring nervous feelings, while you gaze at anywhere but him because of the heat rising up your neck.

“Listen…” He speaks up after a while. “I’m sorry, I—”

Fuck it, you think to yourself before stepping forward, shakily cupping his cheeks, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Don’t say sorry.” You muster up a shy smile in between brief kisses. “You already know that I like you too.”

bonus epilogue

When you return to the magical realm to the news that Hyunjin won’t be taking his own candidacy exam next year in favor of his own kingdom’s crown, the elders are quick to take your locket and Jisung’s ring to proceed with the final results. Since the decision takes at least 3 days, coupled with the fact that a major complication arose in the 6 months that you were given, Jisung was asked to stay at your castle until the jury could come to a conclusion and crown either one of you.

The others would also occasionally come and visit (especially Lia who’s mostly kept up with your trip through Yeji and Ryujin) but since confessing to Jisung, the boy has been doing the most trying to sneak you away from everyone and your regular royal duties just to spend more time with you.

“So this is what you meant with Sunshine?” You ask in the afternoon before the elders would summon you back to the throne room, the two of you hidden away in your favourite greenhouse garden. Today, Jisung has somehow convinced you to ditch a visit to Chan’s family in favor of just sitting on your greenhouse’s cushioned sofas and listening to him hum his songs until your mentors would eventually come looking for you. “Chocolate matcha and your guitar?”

“Yeah, just a relaxing rest date with your crush.” Jisung points out next to you, his head snuggled into the crook of your neck as much as the guitar in between the two of you could allow him. On your opposite side, his cuddle rival, the quokka plush toy you’ve somehow managed to turn into a life-size pillow today, sits on your lap and occasionally pokes on the end of his guitar. “Why? Do you want to refill your tea? I’ve been getting Felix to teach me this spell to refill tea, you know. I’m getting it but chocolate matcha’s kinda hard to replicate.”

You shake your head in disbelief with a chuckle, a stark contrast to how you’re internally flustered over the small comment on your favourite tea flavor. “Who said you’re my crush? Bold of you to even assume, Ji…” You pretend to roll your eyes, sinking deeper into the soft cushions behind you.

“Baby, you’ll be taking those words back when I get crowned tonight.” He pouts, elbowing you gently before shifting to place his guitar on the side. With his hands now free, the prince then resorts to linking his arms with your free one and intertwining your hands together on top of the plush quokka. “If I win, I’ll make sure to banish this quokka first so you’ll be forced to cuddle with only me.”

“Tch, Felix won you this quokka. You’ll have to duel with him first if you want this gone.” You argue, sliding the quokka closer to him so its face is adjacent to Jisung. “Plus, it kinda looks like you. If I get crowned and you’ll be away doing your own duties back East, I have something of yours.”

“I think you meant that if I win and you’ll be staying here doing your own duties, you’ll have something of mine.” Jisung huffs pettily. “Maybe we should keep the quokka, after all. You might get lonely if I get busy.”

You shake your head immediately with a chuckle, leaning more of your weight on his side. “Oh, no, no, no.” You correct teasingly, making him giggle along against your shoulder. “Who said you’re going to win later?”

“Wanna bet?” He raises a brow and smirks, lifting his head briefly to glance over to you.

You roll your eyes at this, leaning forward to meet his lips. “You’re so competitive, babe. Give it a rest, you know I’ll win anyway.”

545 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years ago

Photo

U N P L A N N E D, part eleven

It was hard to settle into a new space, just like always. The cups were in a cabinet that wasn’t right above the sink, the silverware wasn’t across from the fridge. It didn’t make sense, but he moved around the kitchen with ease and he could definitely, absolutely tell something was up.

He pressed a button on the blender, looked up at you when the shrill noise broke through the living room. It was almost a test, it seemed. Could you ignore his gaze burning into your face, or would you break and make eye contact, ask him what he wanted?

When the blender shut off, you clicked away from the email and closed your computer, sliding it away from you on the counter before reaching for a glass of water beside you.

“Is something up?” He asked, a hand on his hip as if it’d taken everything in him to wait this long to ask.

“What?”

“You’re quiet.”

“I was checking my work emails. I have a big meeting tomorrow with some other people from marketing and a pitch to the sales team.”

“I mean with us.”

“Oh.”

It’d been four days. Four times you went to sleep in your own room--one that wasn’t really yours but had a lot of your things in it. Four awkward exchanges when you’d inevitably go upstairs before him, brush your teeth and wash your face, let the door click shut and pretend that you didn’t feel out of place.

Four nights of staring at the ceiling and wondering what he’d said to her on the phone.

“Do I have to ask it again?”

“No,” you shot him a look, mildly irritated by the tone in his voice, as if you owed him an answer. “I’m just--I don’t know--getting used to living in your house.”

He paused for a second, spoke in a sigh. “You seemed so excited the other day,” the tension broke when a tinge of melancholy came through his words. He left the blender on the counter and took a few steps closer to you. “Do you think it wasn’t a good idea?”

You swallowed, unsure. It was nice to have him around, someone else responsible for what was now the size of a grapefruit. His presence was more reassuring than Lexi’s I don’t know why you’re sweating through every t-shirt you own stare. So maybe he wasn’t the problem, maybe it was the guilt.

“I just don’t want you to think you have to do all of this.”

“I don’t,” he shook his head. “I swear.”

“You don’t ever think it’s all weird?”

He let out a laugh, pursed his lips and then sat in a stool beside you at the island, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, s’pretty fucking weird, but--I dunno, seems right, too.”

His words broke through some of the fear that had lodged itself in your chest, tangled between your ribs. He reached a hand over to yours, took it in his, and pulled it towards his mouth. “You know, Nike,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of it. “If you want, you can sleep in my bed.”

“I’m your roommate,” you shot back at him, a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth--you ignored the nickname altogether. “Don’t you think that’s crossing a line?”

Not that it hadn’t been done already. Any type of line between you and Harry felt too blurry and too thin--a mysterious separation that both of you continued to creep up to, pull away from, and then do it all over again.

He hummed, another kiss to your hand. “Sounds like the start of a porno,” he laughed, threw in a wiggle of his eyebrows for comedic relief. “S’a fine line between roommates and people who share a bed.”

You didn’t correct him, but it was a fine line between everything in your relationship. Were you friends? Acquaintances? Two people hooking up?

You pulled your hand away from him and laughed. “You’re a freak.”

“Am not,” he said, watching with shock on his face as you brought your glass over to the sink. “I just know that I slept really well in there the time you stayed over.”

It almost hurt to hear him say that. Like he’d somehow managed to find your weak spot and chose to pluck at it over and over. You avoided his gaze when you turned around.

“S’a bigger bed, remember? Plenty of room to sprawl out, sleep as diagonal as you want,” his words bled into each other, a thread of persuasion wrapped around your heart.

You looked up at him with narrowed eyes, holding back a giggle. “You literally do splits in your sleep.”

He stood and rounded the island, only a few feet between you when he cleared his throat, much more serious now. “I know this is all kind of weird, but--I want things to be okay. I want to make it work.”

You nodded, a swell of emotion in your chest that you tried to avoid. A deep breath, another nod. You didn’t really know what he meant, and you didn’t want to ask. If you knew, you could probably find the evidence to disprove it. “Yeah.”

So when he stepped forward and kissed you, you figured it wasn’t a good time to tell him that you’d gotten a reply from your dad.

Short, simple. Hope all is well, congratulations, take care of yourself. Talk soon.

You knew he didn’t mean it. He never did.

You woke up in the mornings and smiled now, sheets tangled and messy hair. You’d stolen one of the two hundred pillows he had to shove between your legs, it helped with the back pain when you slept on your side. Twenty-two weeks, then twenty-three.

Every few days you’d bring a few more things into the room, first your phone cord, then a book. By now your toothbrush was in his bathroom and your blow dryer was, too. You didn’t necessarily talk about it, didn’t address the gradual shift in the house. You didn’t ask what it meant or why it happened or how he felt, but you brushed your teeth side by side most nights, fell asleep in his arms and prayed that somehow, the entire Earth wouldn’t crumble beneath you.

Some nights his arm would drape over your side, a hand on the bump when you woke up. The sound of his voice in the morning was something else, dreamy, soothing. And most mornings, you didn’t even know if you could leave him there and head to work.

“Don’t go,” he groaned, pulling a pillow over his head, pretending to suffocate himself.

“Knock it off,” you said, tugging it from his face when you sat on the edge of the bed.

When you bent down and pressed your lips to his, more brazen than before, his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer. “That was a big mistake,” he said, his words muffled against your mouth.

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I have to have you,” he said, a devilish smirk on his face when you pulled away, butterflies already loose in your tummy. “You know, feel you, kiss you, enjoy the fact that you’re pregnant with my child--s’quite the turn on, you know.”

“I’m going to be late,” you tried to pull away, a giggle escaping your lips when he held onto you tighter.

He sat up beside you, kissed you again. “Promise I can make it worth your while, baby,” he hummed, letting his mouth nip at the skin of your neck.

You didn’t say anything, just let out a breath of defeat and laughed again when he nudged you down onto your back, craving more contact from his lips or his hands or any part of him, really.

It was easy, in moments like these, to forget about the things that kept you up at night or the worries that clouded your mind. All you could focus on was the way his skin felt against yours when he pulled your t-shirt from over your head, tugged your shorts down to your ankles. You could slip into the world of pretend: everything’s fine, this makes sense, we’re happy and doing this by choice.

Some days it felt like it was all real. The kissing and the hand holding made it easy to believe that he wanted it, wanted you, and like somehow you’d fallen into this pattern because of fate, not faulty condoms.

The way he laughed when he kissed you now was almost melodical, a lasting echo in your mind when he finally slid into you, the look on his face one of pure pleasure.

A week ago was the first time you had to switch positions. You could still be on top, if you were up for it, but the roundness of your belly heading into week twenty-two had made it nearly impossible for sex to exist the way it once did.

It happened three times since you moved in. Once the first night you stayed in his bed, the second a few nights later, and the third and most recent time, until now, on the couch downstairs.

So now, when he rocked in and out of you, you felt the warmth of his skin on your back and the heat of his breath on your neck.

He reached a hand around your front, fingers trailing down to find your clit, still thrusting forward. You let out a moan when he made contact, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to the heat of his fingers rubbing over you in the morning air.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yeah,” you panted, arching your back into him, hoping to give him more access.

“Be good and cum for me,” he said, his voice low and husky. He’d learned what you liked at this point, never afraid to give you plenty of attention before he finished himself. He worked his fingers in a circle, quicker now, still sliding in and out of you with ease. “Your pussy feels so good, baby,” he whispered. “Love fuckin’ you.”

Knowing what you liked seemed to do wonders for him, too. He fed off your desperation, loved making you squirm and, even more so, he loved when you got impatient.

“Please, quicker,” you breathed, rubbing yourself against him to get closer to release.

And when you both finished, breathless and tired and giggly, it didn’t feel weird to jump in the shower before work, not even when he tugged the glass door open and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“M’gonna go for a jog, have a good day--tacos for dinner?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled, twisting the water off after he slipped out of the room.

Maybe that was bad--maybe it should have felt weird and maybe you should have felt awkward, but instead, you sauntered through the front door after work and lounged on the couch when he tended to dinner on the stove.

He asked about your day and told you about his, you giggled when you brought plates of food to the table and he pressed a kiss to your forehead after you splashed him with water while he did the dishes.

You would have thought Lexi saw a ghost when she pushed the door open, she’d sent a text saying she wanted to stop by after a long day on set.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” she smiled coyly, came towards the kitchen when you waved her over, hands still in the sink.

“You’re not,” you told her. “Harry just doesn’t know how to actually clean up after himself.”

“Actually,” he said, leaning on the island and looking over to Lexi. “Your friend here is a terrible roommate. She never makes dinner.”

“You like to cook!” You shot back at him, betrayed by his lie.

“I do,” he said, coming over to kiss your cheek again. “And I also have a conference call with some label people.” He pointed over towards Lexi. “You gonna stay a while? There’s wine in the fridge.”

“He speaks my language,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

You motioned over to it, granting her permission to serve herself while you finished. Harry slid the door to his office shut and Lexi poured a glass, sat at the island. When you shut off the faucet and turned to face her, she eyed you closely.

“Yes?”

“Things seem like they’re going well.”

You shrugged. “Yeah--I mean, they are.”

She took a sip of wine, let out a laugh and then set it on the granite. “Have you talked to him about the phone call yet?”

A shake of your head, the same stomach dropping sensation. “No--I haven’t asked.”

There was a lot you hadn’t done. You hadn’t told Lexi about the morning sex or the couch sex or any of the sex, actually. You didn’t tell her you’d moved your toothbrush over and you didn’t ask Harry about the phone call.

“Are you still freaked out about it? Or--” she trailed off, trying to gauge where you were at, but you didn’t really know, yourself.

A nod this time, fearful that speaking it outloud would somehow make it grow. If you brought it up, that made it real. If you acknowledged the fact that there was someone else before you, did that strengthen her hold on him?

“I should just ask,” you said aloud, confirming it to yourself as much as her.

She agreed, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” she laughed, raising her wine glass as if to ceremoniously cheers. When you frowned, she lowered it. “Right--no alcohol, sorry. How’s that going?”

“The whole growing a baby? Or not drinking?”

“Both.”

“Eh,” you rested your elbows on the granite. “Fine enough. Doctor’s appointment in a few days.”

“Picked any names yet?”

“Nope,” you said quickly. “Don’t bring it up. He’s been obsessing over it.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Lately he likes Maxine, Maeve was last week.”

“I like the M theme.”

You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t liked a single one yet.”

“Not even Maxine? That’s cute!”

“For a woman in her fifties, maybe.”

“You’re gonna end up with a nameless child.”

“No I won’t!”

“You’re too damn picky. I thought there was one that you liked? Like back in June or July?”

“Jane. That’s okay.”

Her eyes went wide, her lips got all pouty. “Jane!” She said it again, an octave higher and she managed to stretch it to two syllables. “Little Janey!”

It took a few reminders to calm her down. We haven’t chosen anything, yet. We still don’t know. She assured you it was a good fit. Jane Styles, she said. It’s perfect.

When Harry emerged from the office, Lexi had already left and promised to see you over the weekend. You were sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, the 10pm news lit up the screen of the TV.

He came to sit beside you, eyes on his phone. “How was Lexi?”

“Fine,” you said, heartbeat rising when you contemplated bringing it up. “Can I actually, uh, ask you something?”

“Course, what’s up?” He asked, typed out a text but looked up at you after he’d pressed send.

If you didn’t spit it out, you feared you might never say it.

“That day that we were at Dr. Weston’s--when you took that phone call--was it Camille?”

He faltered a bit at that, almost like he never expected to hear her name come from your mouth. Like up until now, those worlds had been separate--night and day, black and white. He was quiet, eyes on you until they weren’t, he bit at his lip and then cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah--I talked to her.”

“Oh--is there, like, anything going on between the two of you?”

He looked up at you, surprised, bitterness in his voice. “No--I haven’t seen her in months, Y/N. I called her to--I dunno--to tell her, give her a heads up, left a voicemail. She called me back when we were there.”

You let out a breath, hoping to slow the thumping in your chest. Okay, fine, fair. You couldn’t judge him for wanting to give her a heads up. But you knew, just by the look on his face, that he cared. He told her because he loved her, even if it had been months since he’d felt that way.

“Is that--does that bother you?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, skittish from the anger in his voice.

“Didn’t you call anyone to tell them?” he pressed. “You didn’t call that twat you dated?”

“He wasn’t a twat,” you replied, anger building in your core. Glenne never really liked him, which was obviously Harry’s source of information, biased and only half of the story. He was kind of a twat, but you weren’t going to admit it now.

“No! It’s none of his business. He moved on.”

“Well so did Camille. A long time ago, really.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know anything about her. Except, apparently, that she still struck a nerve in him.

“I just wish you told me you called her.”

He was sat at the island now, head in his hands, guilt on his face when you looked up at him. A shrug. “I’m sorry--she was just one of the people on my list. I’ve been trying to get out ahead of the news.”

You nodded, trying to muster up the compassion inside of you. It wasn’t a big deal if he said it wasn’t, right? You didn’t really want to know, but you asked anyway. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

“No,” he said, a shake of his head as if he couldn’t even believe you’d think he might. “No, I just—we said we’d be friends and she was in town when I found out--when you told me we were pregnant. So I blew her off, we were supposed to have lunch. She has a boyfriend, anyway--said she was happy for me.”

“Oh,” you said, less in understanding and more in regards to the fact that he had planned on seeing her. Maybe he wanted to get back together. Maybe he was seeing her to propose a reconciliation. He’d be better suited with a model, someone who had her own contracts to sign and someone who wasn’t referred to in headlines as pregnant friend.

“I don’t have feelings for her anymore.” He said it again, a nod of his head as if to really sell it. “We broke up in 2018—that’s what I meant when I said I also hadn’t—you know—in a while.”

You thought back to it, the time you told him there was no other possibility. He was the only person you’d slept with in months. He echoed something similar, but you thought it was an attempt to make you feel less embarrassed, less stupid.

“I’m really the only person you’ve had sex with since 2018?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a shrug of his shoulders. “Not mad about it, either, just to be clear.”

You fought the smirk that tried to overtake your face, kept your arms crossed over your chest when he pulled you towards him, kiss you on the forehead and the nose and the cheek and the mouth.

Not mad about it. Maybe he meant it.

And maybe, if you said it over and over in your head enough times, you’d believe it.

The pink sky bled into orange, the tall hedges around Harry’s house provided privacy from the street when you sat beside Lexi and Glenne. Harry manned the grill, a cocky smile on his face when Jeff went on and on about the best burgers ever.

“I’m not just a pretty face,” he reminded, the apron tied around his waist adding an air of sophistication to his grilling.

But you felt something in your stomach, a shift or a pinch or a pop. Your hands flew to touch it, beneath the UCLA sweatshirt you’d stolen from Lexi. “Something’s happening,” you announced, nervousness in your voice when you looked over to Harry.

“What do you mean?” Jeff asked, frozen, the color drained from his face in a matter of seconds.

“I think she’s kicking,” you said, a smile when both Lexi and Glenne let out noises of excitement.

“Let me feel!” Glenne said, standing from her patio seat after she put her wine down. She held her hand on top of you for a second, her eyes going wide when you felt it again. “Oh my god!” she screeched. “That is so weird, does it feel weird?!”

“Move over,” Harry was by your side in a millisecond, nearly hip-checking Glenne out of his way. She wobbled on her feet but caught her balance. He pressed a hand onto your tummy, his lips pursed in a thin line when he focused. After a second he looked up at you. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Maybe because you’re too aggressive,” Glenne joked, rubbing her hip as if Harry’d caused serious damage.

“Let me see,” Lexi said, her tone unimpressed when she came over and nudged Harry out of the way. As soon as both of her hands were on your tummy, you felt it again. “Holy shit!” Lexi grinned. “She’s strong as fuck for a fetus.”

“Move!” Harry yelled again, his face twisted.

“Relax, will you?” You laughed, a hand over his when he made contact with your belly again. “You’ll feel it, I promise.”

“But she’s not doing it for me right now.”

“I guess you have to be patient.” You told him.

A few more seconds, nothing. He pulled his hands away and mumbled to himself, heading back to the grill in defeat.

“How strong is it?” Jeff asked, still a safe distance away--but the look on his face told you he was curious.

“You can come feel it,” you laughed, holding out a hand.

“Yeah, babe, feel it,” Glenne encouraged.

He laughed a little, came over and offered his hand toward you.

“Over here,” you guided his hand. “I’ve been feeling stuff but I didn’t know if it was her or--”

“Just gas?” Lexi asked with a laugh.

“Cute,” Jeff teased. But his face shifted when he felt it. “That’s her?” He asked. “That’s the baby inside of you?”

Glenne let out a laugh, made a face at Jeff and then looked at you. “He forgot you were pregnant, apparently.”

Harry sulked at the grill when he flipped another burger. “S’fine, just me over here, the father, not able to feel my own child.”

“Oh chill,” Jeff said, his hand still pressed tight to your belly. “You get to have the baby forever.”

He lightened up at that, tried once more when he delivered the food to the table, still with no luck. So after you all ate, when you promised him three more times that she wasn’t doing it anymore and he wouldn’t miss anything, he went to the driveway to play basketball with Jeff.

And once they were out of earshot, rushing towards the hoop like children at recess, you turned back to your two best friends.

“I finally asked about Camille,” you told them, a breeze blew through the backyard and Lexi topped off her wine.

Glenne perked up at that. “Yeah? What’d he say?”

You shrugged, pulled your hair into a ponytail to avoid the wind. “Said he called to tell her, she was fine, I guess. She’s dating some guy, he said she’s totally moved on.”

“She kind of moved on before they even broke up,” Glenne admitted.

“That’s how he made it sound.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about it,” she said. “He was torn up for a while, but it was literally over a year ago now. He’s obviously got better stuff to worry about.”

“Yeah--I know, it’s just--” you trailed off, shrugged again and looked up at her.

“What?”

“It’s just messy.”

“Messy cause you’re having his baby and at the start of the year you didn’t even really know him, or--” Glenne waited for you to clarify.

“Or messy cause you’ve got it bad?” Lexi chimed in, she stifled a laugh when you looked over at her.

“Messy because of the whole unplanned pregnancy thing, Alexis.”

She rolled her eyes. “And cause you totally fell for your baby daddy.”

“Alright,” you laughed. “You’re a dick.”

“You’re totally fucking--” Lexi giggled, Glenne nearly choked on her wine.

“Wait, what?” Glenne asked, wide eyes when she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You’ve had sex with him?!”

“Well, uh, look at her,” Lexi let her eyes trail down to your stomach, the roundness of your belly visible beneath the sweatshirt.

“Shut up!” Glenne said, her face still frozen and expectant. “Are you sleeping with him? Are you sleeping together?”

“Glenne!” You let out a whine, heartbeat gaining speed when she broke eye contact.

“Oh my--oh my god--I can’t--I mean, I can believe it, obviously, but, holy shit.”

“Can you relax, please?” Lexi looked unimpressed, annoyed, really, when she adjusted her sunglasses on her nose. “We both knew this was going to happen.”

Glenne let out a breath and looked around the backyard, a quick glance at the boys. “I want to be mad, but--I can’t be.”

“Why do you want to be mad?” Lexi asked. “Because you can’t be in control?”

“Because I--no,” she shot Lexi a look. “I’m worried it will--y’know--end badly.”

You were quiet, eyed her for a second, unsure of how to respond. Both she and Jeff had been pushing their opinions for months, and something about the late summer heat and the kicking in your belly gave you a bit more oomph.

“We’re adults, Glenne. We can make our own decision and clean up our own messes.”

“I know,” she said, a shrug when she broke eye contact. “This is bigger than the two of you just hooking up. Adding the feelings on top of already having a baby together,” she trailed off, nervousness in her voice.

“I’m aware, Glenne! Do you think I’m not aware that my life is a shit show? Do you think it’s easy to sleep at night when I can’t roll over now and every time I try is a reminder of the complete mindfuck that all of this is?!”

She stared at you, eyes wide with fear when tears welled in your eyes.

“I get it, I understand that you’re worried and that Jeff is worried. I get it. This is scary for me, too. But that last thing I need from you is to remind me every fucking second how terrible this could all be if anything goes wrong.”

Quiet. A breeze rustled the hedges and the music coming from the outdoor speakers danced over the sunset.

She looked at you, then at Lexi. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You asked. “That’s all?”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m an asshole, I’m a nervous mess. I need to figure out how to not spew it all outwards, I guess.”

“So fucking lay off,” Lexi laughed, immediately breaking the tension. “Let her fuck him! Let her make dinner with him and do all sorts of stupid, cute shit with him. Let her sleep in his bed!”

Glenne giggled at that, a smile broke onto her face when you rolled your eyes. “Can you be quiet?” You tried not to laugh when you looked over your shoulder, made sure he was still far enough away and couldn’t hear them.

Lexi shook her head at you, a smug smile on her face. “You’re totally fucking him. Is it every day now? Wild morning sex?”

“Shut up!” You laughed, a wave of relief washing over you when Glenne reached out to hold your hand.

“That’s not a no,” Glenne accused, her finger pointed towards you.

“Are you sleeping in his bed?” Lexi lowered her voice, but still had her gaze set on you. Hidden behind sunglasses or not, you knew her well enough to know when she expected an answer to a question.

“No.”

Glenne swirled her wine around in her glass. “You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“She’s lying,” Lexi said, a shrug of her shoulders, tipped the glass of white wine back and then set in on the table.

“So what if I’m sleeping in his bed?” You asked, a pointed stare at Lexi when you tried to keep a straight face.

“Nothing,” she said with a smirk. “I just don’t know why you won’t talk to him about it at this point. I mean, just be a couple or something.”

Glenne watched you closely, waiting for an answer when you turned away from Lexi.

It wasn’t up for discussion, that wasn’t an option. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Clearly,” Lexi retorted.

“If I bring it up and it goes bad then we’re fucked. If I ask him what the hell is going on between us then one of us has to label it and that will be weird. And if it’s labeled then that means someone can unlabel it.”

“Or it could be good,” Glenne spoke slowly.

“Look, the goal here is raising a baby--not falling in love, right? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me this whole time?”

“Well, are you in love with him?” Glenne asked, her face still and expressionless, like time had been paused. She wasn’t angry now, wasn’t frustrated or stressed, just curious.

“What? No--I don’t--I just--maybe I like him,” you said, as if the secret was finally out. As if until now, neither of them had any clue that things had maybe escalated a bit. You’d gotten so used to brushing it under the rug that admitting anything felt foreign.

“Someone needs to secure the rights to this movie,” Lexi laughed. “I can see it now. Celebrity impregnates hot girl, strangers to lovers, the end.”

“Thanks for calling me hot,” you nodded in her direction. “Feeling anything but these days.”

“Oh please,” Glenne waved you off, set her wine glass on the table. “You’re beautiful. You’re a fucking babe.”

You stared at her, deadpan. “I suddenly have an orb attached to the front of me and no longer have a girlish figure.”

“Bodies change, boo,” Lexi reminded. “You’re growing a human.”

“I know, I just--I don’t know, I want to feel sexy.”

She looked at you like you were crazy. “Him being obsessed with you isn’t enough to do that?”

“What? He’s not obsessed with me,” you made a face.

“Uh, he literally asked you to move in, now you’re sleeping in his bed--don’t even try to deny it,” she laughed. “He’s in love with you, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You looked over to Glenne, hopeful she’d fulfill her duty in your threesome of being the voice of reason. She smiled, picked up her wine and sipped at it, eyeing you over the rim.

“She knows I’m right,” Lexi said, motioning towards Glenne. “It’s so obvious even Glenne isn’t going to fight me on this! You know, the one who was convinced this was a terrible idea and the woman who pretty much always needs a Xanax.”

Glenne laughed at her teasing, gave Lexi the finger and took another pull from her drink.

“Alright--you’re both clearly missing a lot of the picture. He’s him, I’m me. We accidentally got into this situation. His last girlfriend was a model.”

“Last two girlfriends,” Lexi corrected.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Kendall, remember?” Glenne asked. “Remember when you came to that weird event with me downtown when Jeff forced me to go? That art opening? She was there--you met her.”

“Great, so two models, one of which is a Kardashian,” you raised your hands towards the sky, wondering if lightning would strike you on the spot. Your luck seemed to be heading in that direction, lately.

“She’s a Jenner, but, go on,” Lexi said.

“You know what I mean,” you waved her off, a shake of your head when the wind blew again. “I just--I dunno, I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

“Then talk to him,” Glenne said.

You thought about taking her advice--a far cry from what she said in the beginning of all of this. Ripped down the middle, part of you wanted to do it, ask him how he felt and what he thought, and the other half just wanted to avoid confrontation altogether. If you didn’t talk about it he couldn’t reject you. He didn’t have to admit that he was just being nice, just being a good guy who was stepping up.

Sure, having sex was nice and maybe he enjoyed not being the only person in his big house. But how could he expect you to believe that he’d trade models and pool parties and drinking for changing diapers, making dinner, and going to sleep by 9pm?

So when Glenne and Jeff and Lexi headed home, you didn’t bring it up. You slipped beneath the sheets and ignored the growing anxiety that this was all too good to be true. How could he handle a baby and going on tour? At what point would he realize that this was all too much and getting to know you was a mistake?

You almost asked him a few days later, when he sat in the same chair in Dr. Weston’s exam room, but you didn’t. When he stood beside you in Target, a hat on his head and a hoodie pulled up to offer privacy, you wondered if this would do it.

“Which one do you like better?” He looked between the two, his voice quiet to not draw too much attention. You’d driven out of the city, a late night trip to find a stroller and a crib--you’d already gotten a bassinet. We have to see them in person, he’d insisted, tabs pulled up on his laptop when you pointed at the one you preferred that afternoon.

“Still this one,” you reached forward, put your hand on the side of it, pulled it towards you to feel the movement of the wheels.

“This one looks safer, though,” he said. “You can use it in different ways, too.”

“Fine,” you shrugged, unwilling to put up a fight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N,” he turned to look at you, concern in his face. “You’ve been weird all day.”

You didn’t tell him about the phone call with your mom--the planning of your baby shower with Lexi and Glenne, a few people from work. Jeff had already made it pretty clear: small, quiet, nothing over the top. Your aunts would come and your mom’s friend from home. Your cousins, too, but everyone had to sign an NDA.

You didn’t tell him that Glenne knew about the sleeping arrangement, which meant Jeff would probably find out soon, too.

“M’just stressed. And I don’t think it’s a good idea that we’re here,” you looked around the empty aisles, fearful that someone would see you, see him, finally connect the dots.

“S’Oxnard. No one expects me to be here.”

You nodded, hoping he was right. “I think this one is fine, too,” you reached forward to touch the one he liked. Six in one seating, safety breaks, dual cup holder, detachable carrier/carseat. “It’s ridiculously overpriced, though.”

“It’s fine--it’s all expensive.”

“I just want you to let me pay for some of it, okay?”

“Maybe,” he brushed it off, forehead creased when he read over reviews on his phone. “Five stars for safety.”

“Harry,” you said, frustration in your voice. He looked up at you, expectant and waiting.

“Yes?”

“Just pick whichever one you like and we can split it.”

“We don’t have to.”

“I know we don’t have to,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’d like to. I’m an adult.”

“Never said you weren’t,” he mumbled a bit, took a few steps away from you to look at another stroller nearby.

“Well then let me pay for shit for my child.”

“Yours?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Be quiet,” you looked over your shoulder, not wanting anyone to hear you bickering in the baby section.

“How do you expect this to work if you won’t talk to me, Y/N?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something’s up! Everything’s been up! You’re anxious and tired and you’re hungry all the time but you won’t admit it!”

You felt heat on your cheeks, offered a small smile to the woman who pushed a cart by the end of the aisle. How did you tell him that you were anxious and tired and hungry and scared and somehow you’d managed to catch feelings?

“Do you need any assistance?” A voice from behind you, a red shirt teenager who didn’t seem to recognize him. A sigh when he replied for you.

“No, thank you, we’re all set.”

“We’ll take that stroller,” you pointed. “I’ll meet you by the register.”

So you left him to lug it up to the cashier, nudged him out of the way and handed over your card before he could protest. You slunk into the passenger seat when he tried to shove it in the backseat, struggled a bit before finally getting the door shut.

He was quiet in the car, almost as awkward as the first time he drove you to your apartment, asked to watch you pee on a stick. But this time you shared a fridge and a bed and a driveway and now he knew the way you liked your coffee and about the nightmare you had last week.

You were more than happy to ignore him, pull the sheets over your head and know his arm would be around you by morning, even if the night ended on a bad note. That was the plan.

But when you came through the front door and tried to keep a good distance between you, he spoke.

“Fuck,” he said. “Jeff just sent me this.” He turned his phone around, showed you a picture of him in the same hoodie he wore, his hands in his pockets as he followed you down an aisle in the Oxnard Target.

You scanned it over once, looked up at him to gauge how bad this was. You told him it was a bad idea.

“Well that kind of fucks us over, doesn’t it?” He sighed, dropped a bag by the counter and let his shoulders slump. He tossed his phone onto the couch, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Well we don’t have to announce it yet,” you said quietly, watching as he pulled out a stool, his head in his hands on top of the granite. Your voice was quiet, uncertain and unsteady--reassuring him wasn’t something you were used to.

“S’not that,” he said, a shake of his head and a falter in his voice. You were sure this was it, the moment he’d tell you he couldn’t do it, couldn’t be the father he wanted to be or couldn’t carry out the promise like he’d planned.

You didn’t say anything, stood frozen by the kitchen counter as you waited for him to explain.

“M’not--I guess I just don’t know how to do all of this.”

You nodded, hoping to just hear him talk. You’d listen to anything he had to say, even the bad news. He couldn’t do it, he didn’t want to. His fans would be disappointed, his mom hated you.

Thousands of words echoed through your mind, strung along as options of things he might say. They vanished in thin air when he looked up at you, his eyes sad and his heart soft.

“Don’t you ever get scared?” He asked now, looking over his shoulder and searching your face as the sun set outside. “Aren’t you freaked out?”

Another nod, you set your purse down and sat beside him, letting out a sigh. “Terrified.”

He looked away from you at that, pressed his fingers up to his eyes as if it would block the emotion from bubbling inside of him. “M’terrified I’ll be a bad father. I’ll fuck it up or be too busy or something will go wrong.”

Something inside of you ached, a sinking feeling down to your toes, an emptiness in your chest when he looked at you again.

“You won’t be,” you shook your head, the words were as much reassurance to you as they were to him.

“How do you know?” He laughed cynically, shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “S’not like we know each other that well.”

You turned towards him, tugged at his arm to give you a better view of his face. “Because you’ve been more excited than anyone about this,” you exhaled, like the words had built up inside of you, desperate to come out. “You were the one who held the faith that we’d be okay when I didn’t know if we would. And you’ve been kind and generous and you’re doing everything right.”

He nodded, but you could tell it was a move to appease you, not a sign that he knew your words to be true.

You took his hand in yours and held it for a second. Maybe things wouldn’t work out between you, maybe you didn’t need that.

Maybe you didn’t need to live here or spend time with him or anything of the sort. Maybe seeing the smile on his face when he finally felt her kick, the pride he emitted when he picked out the perfect stroller, maybe that would be enough.

He squeezed your hand and shrugged. “Don’t want to let you down, I guess.”

“Me?”

“No, the other mother of my child,” he laughed.

“You’re not--you couldn’t.”

“I could--trust me.” He let go of you at that, your fingers fell from his with ease, he turned in the seat and looked towards the silhouette of Los Angeles. “Things will be a lot busier when the album’s finished and released.”

“I thought it already was finished.” You pulled back from him, more space between you.

Right? Didn’t this whole thing start when the album wrap party got both of you too drunk to read an expiration date?

He looked over at you, shrugged and fought a small smile. “It was, but--y’know--life happens, you meet someone and get her pregnant, s’plenty to say about that.”

He must have seen the way your eyes went wide, color vanished from your face when you repeated his words out loud. He frowned before you even spoke.

“Say about it? Like, write about it?”

“I mean, s’that alright?”

Your lips parted, words tried to crawl from your tummy and out over your tongue. “I don’t--I mean--I guess.”

“S’just one song, I can play it for you.”

“No,” you said quickly, swallowing the curiosity like a hard pill. “It’s okay.”

What would you say? What would you think? You didn’t know how it would feel or how it would sound or what made him do it. The thick summer air trailed in from the cracked window, the quiet neighborhood sounds floated lazily into the living room.

September was quiet and settling, like the heat would give any second, like your strength might break with it.

“M’sorry that I didn’t tell you more about her--about Camille.”

You froze at that, again, like her name was a strike of lightning, brazen and bold. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t have feelings for her,” he said. “She really kind of fucked me up, but--I mean it. I’m over it now.”

A nod, the mugginess was almost too much, when he reached over for your hand again, you met his eyes.

“I did tell a few people,” you admitted, deciding to match his honesty. “My dad emailed me back.”

His eyebrows raised, his pitch higher than usual. “He did?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “Congratulations, take care,” you lowered your voice to mimic him, unsure of how he actually sounded.

“How do you feel about that?”

“Weird,” you said, a second of silence as he waited for you to elaborate. “Angry, sort of. I don’t know why he bothered to say we’ll talk soon--especially cause we won’t.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

You let out a quick laugh. “He showed up late to my 5th grade moving up ceremony.”

“So--fifteen years ago?”

“I guess.”

“M’sorry he’s an asshole.”

You looked up at him, suddenly embarrassed to have given away the information. Harry didn’t care, probably. He didn’t need to hear about your sob story or the things you wished were different.

“It’s fine, I don’t care.” You pulled away from him, grabbed your phone from the counter and headed for the stairs. “Bedtime?”

“It’s alright to care, y’know, Nike.”

You turned on one foot, watched him for a second. “What?”

“You can be upset that your dad sucks. Those things--our relationships with our parents--they kind of shape us into who we are.”

“I’m not upset,” you shook your head. “I’m used to it.”

He sighed, made a face, then came to meet you at the bottom of the stairs. “Okay, love. Bedtime it is, then.”

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list | join the bookclub

**author’s note: hi everyone!!! chapter 11, woohoo! THANKS to everyone who’s been patient as I’m writing this!!!! as always hit me up if you want to chat about the story! also if you’re having notification issues getting tagged in these updates, message me and i’ll tell ya how to fix it.

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nsheetee · 5 years ago

Text

Wifi

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: Roommate AU || Fluff, slightly crack-ish Length: 2k Warning: one mention of an adult theme, implied female reader Summary: You and Renjun have been rooming together for a while, not knowing of your hidden feelings for each other. Surprisingly, it’s the bad wifi connection in your room that brings you together.

〈〈〈━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━〉〉〉

You sigh for what seems like the umpteenth time that evening, your fingers angrily keyboard smashing on your laptop when the wifi bars at the top of the screen show only one small, weak bar barely hanging on.

Ever since you moved in with your new roommate Renjun, you’ve noticed how every once in a while around 11pm, the wifi in your room goes weak. Being a creature of the night that always gets their homework done during this time, it frustrates you that you have to take small breaks every few minutes for your computer to catch up with the internet connection.

Finally fed up with waiting for your computer to load, you pick up your supplies and march over to Renjun’s room, which is the closest room to the apartment’s wifi router. You knock on the door and after hearing an affirmative, you walk into the room. Renjun is buried under a pile of blankets on his bed with his hoodie pulled up to his lips and the hood over his forehead. The only light in the room is coming from his laptop and he hisses when you turn on the room light.

“Good God, turn that off before you blind me. What do you need?” You turn the light back off and instead turn on Renjun’s desk light, setting your stuff down on top of his abandoned homework.

“Can I finish my homework in here?”

“What’s wrong with your room?”

“The internet’s being dodgy again.” You explain and Renjun silently nods, shutting his laptop and putting his airpods into his ears as he looks through his phone. You sit at his “organized mess” of a desk, open your computer, and sigh contently when the wifi works smoothly.

Renjun peers over his phone to look at you. You’re concentrating hard on whatever paper you’re writing; your pajama shirt is so big that it covers your shorts and your hair is only held in it’s messy bun by a couple of pencils. He can’t see your face, but admiration pools in his chest.

He’s been lovesick for you ever since you interviewed to be his roommate. When you introduced yourself and answered all of his questions in your own quirky way, Renjun just about handed over the lease for you to sign then and there and called off all the other interviews he had that day. Since then, his small crush has grown bigger, but seems to be unnoticed by you. Renjun, instead of doing the obvious thing and confessing, decided to help you find out about his feelings “by yourself.”

Renjun found out that he can manually decrease the bandwidth of the apartment’s wifi just by logging into his internet service provider account online. So, he began to weaken the wifi every few nights around 11pm, when he knew you were doing your homework. Like clockwork, he’d hear your groans of frustration for a few moments before your feet pad over to his room and knock on the door, asking to do your homework in his room.

Was Renjun being ridiculous? Maybe… Was he going to stop this game he has you unknowingly playing? Not until you realize he has feelings for you or he gets enough guts to confess. Renjun sighs dejectedly when he thinks about the likeness of either of those events happening anytime soon. He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail.

Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You knock on Renjun’s door once again, sighing when he tells you to enter from inside. You walk in with your books and pens in your hands, your computer haphazardly balanced on top of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Renjun asks from his spot on the floor. His project for his biology class is spread out on the floor; some sort of visual presentation that involves a lot of paper cut outs and glue.

“Internet’s bad.” You look over his work, “Are you actually doing your homework? I didn’t know that was possible.” Renjun glaces up from gluing paper to his presentation, a blank stare on his face. He didn’t manually decrease the bandwidth of the wifi tonight. Are the internet gods smiling down on him and bringing you to him through their own will? He hopes so.

“Those are bold words for someone who needs internet and the only place to get it is in my room.” It’s your turn to give Renjun a blank stare as you drop off your supplies on his desk. “Come here.” He commands. You sit down criss-cross applesauce across from him and he hands you a thick permanent marker.

“Write this here.” He points to a small passage in his notebook and a blank space on the presentation board before moving to glue a different piece of paper.

“Why? I’m not going to do your homework for you in return for wifi. I live here, I pay with this wifi.” You point the marker tip at him but he ignores you, too focused on gluing a piece of paper to the cardboard.

“Once again, this is my room.” You sigh at his stubbornness, deciding to help him just this once. You take time to look around; although you’ve been rooming together for a few weeks now, this is the first time you’ve casually been in his room. The wall above his bed particularly catches your eye; his drawings, the quick doodles that he seems to be proud of, are hanging over his bed. Some are of people he’s seen at the coffee shop he usually hangs out in, some are of your house plants that you bought for the window sill in the kitchen.

Your heart softens when you look back at Renjun; he seems to be hyperfixed on gluing a particular piece of paper to the cardboard, his lips open in concentration and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You feel courage build up in your chest and your gut fill with fearlessness. This is it. You’re going to confess your feelings for your roommate right here and right now.

“Nice drawings.” You mumble out instead, cursing to yourself in your head when the courage fades.

“Really?” Renjun asks, looking over his shoulder to the drawings. “They’re just doodles…” He tries to sound humble, but you can see the tilt of one side of his lips as he tries to hide his smile.

“Yeah, golden hands, they’re good.” You roll your eyes, deciding to feed his ego. It distracts him long enough to allow you to stand up and escape to Renjun’s desk chair. You start your own homework, a yawn leaving your lips. Maybe tonight isn’t the time to confess your crush on your roommate, but you hope he’ll be able to see the little hints you give of your feelings.

Renjun once again can’t help but stare at your back as you work, not minding that you’re not helping him anymore. He hates that your small, seemingly insignificant comment about his artwork makes his heart pound. He wishes the wifi could stop working by itself more often so he could see you naturally, like he did tonight.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You don’t knock this time as you enter Renjun’s room, throwing up a peace sign as you close the door behind you and walk to his desk.

“Hey,” He raises his voice. “I get you have homework to do and the internet is weird, but at least knock. What if I was… masterbating in here or something.” He mumbles the last part and you snort.

“I still need to use the internet. So if you’re gonna masterbate anytime soon, please go do it somewhere else.”

“This is my room.” Renjun whines, throwing the drawing pad he was using before you barged in next to him and flopping onto his bed.

“Or so you keep saying.” You tease some more, setting down your supplies on his desk.

Renjun hasn’t touched the wifi bandwidth in weeks for fear that his meddling has caused the wifi to actually turn bad in your apartment. His wish came true: the wifi kept breaking and messing up in your room, all by itself. Now, you were constantly in Renjun’s room doing your homework and although Renjun likes you (literally), he doesn’t like how you welcome yourself in.

You surprise him by laying down next to him; you’re both facing the ceiling, hands on your stomachs and sighs escaping your lips every few seconds. Renjun can’t tell what you’re thinking, he’s too afraid to look at your face for the fear of not being able to quit looking. He doesn’t know if you’re as affected as him by your arm meeting his every time you breath, or if you can sense his thoughts racing at 1,000 miles an hour in his head. He tries to breathe evenly when he catches a whiff of your moisturizer, the one he said he liked a few weeks ago and that you’ve been using everyday since.

“Aren’t you here to do your homework? Why are you laying down?”

“No.” You gulp at the words that are about to leave your lips. “I’m here… for you.” You hold your breath after you finish talking.

“What.”

“The wifi has been working fine for weeks. I’ve been coming here to spend time… with you.” You can’t imagine how Renjun was dense enough to believe that the wifi has been poor almost every night for the past 2 months, but you hope it has something to do with him liking spending time with you. You got tired of waiting for Renjun to pick up your hints and stopped waiting for the wifi to cut out in your room to join him in his-- it’s not like he would ever know if the wifi is actually being dodgy on your side of the apartment.

You’re still nervously waiting for Renjun to say something or to tease you and kick you out of his room and tell you to find a different place to stay and then you’re going to be homeless and then you’ll definitely never have good wifi and then…

Renjun sits up and you don’t let your eyes meet, instead pulling your hood over your head and tightening the strings to hide away from your indirect confession. Renjun untightens the strings and pulls the hood off of you; he looks like he’s about to laugh at you and it makes you nervous.

“You’re a fool. I was the one that was cutting out your wifi.” His words make you sit up straight. Your jaw unhinges as embarrassment floods you. You thought you were only going to confess your feelings tonight, not the fact that you’ve been sneakingly lying to Renjun to hang out with him every night.

Renjun starts laughing and in your flustered state, you pick up his forgotten drawing pad and hit him with it. Renjun only laughs harder at your reaction, clutching his shoulder. He’s partially laughing because of the dumb situation you got yourselves in, but also out of joy because you just confessed your feelings to him.

“You! Do you know how angry you made me? I couldn’t get any of my work done for weeks.” You yell. You’re sure the neighbors could probably hear your mixed voices, but you don’t care. “Why did you purposefully cut out the wifi?” You groan.

“Because I knew you would come to my room if I did.” Renjun confesses, leaning back on his bed with his hands. Your heart soars at his words; it’s what you’ve wanted him to say to you for so long. You raise the drawing pad to hit him again but he catches it, fingers covering yours as he stops your second attack. You let him pry the pad out of your hands and he drops it to a different corner of the bed.

“C’mere, dummy.”

“Who are you calling a dummy?”

“You. Now get over here so I can finally kiss you senseless.”

886 notes · View notes

hayffiebird · 4 years ago

Text

Taste of Strawberries, Chap. 21

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M

I hope you like angst on your fanfic sandwish :) Leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!

Also: (spoiler not a spoiler) I included the Capitol anthem from the new THG book “The ballad of songbirds and snakes” but it doesn’t give away the story so it’s safe to read.

Chapter 21 The betrayal

*ring ring*

… What?

*swallows back a sob* Haymitch? Haymitch, it’s me.

Ah. There she is. Long time no princess. What can you want?

I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.

Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course. *takes a mouthful of something* It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here then. Both of ‘em.

I can take the train. If I go now I ought to be…

Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?

Haymitch…

That’s my name.

I really must speak to you. It’s im…

What for? I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?

I’ve never called…

No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.

I know you’re angry. This is not easy for me either but…

I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. “When hell freezes over”, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?

You left me, Haymitch! I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!

Could’ve fooled me. *twists the top of another bottle* And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: “Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…”

Don’t call me that! Haymitch, please! Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…

Oh, I cared about you. A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.

*sobs* I’m so stupid.

Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.

*toot toot*

xXx

There was still some broth left. Katniss slipped her flask into a jacket pocket and poured a second mug.

The storm had finally blown itself out, for now anyway, but one look through the window quelled all hope for a hunting day. No point roaming the woods for sustenance when the snow lay waist-deep.

She fed Buttercup her last piece of bacon and carried the mug into the living room.

“I’m going to the bakery.”

Nightmares had made Haymitch kick all the cushions off the couch again. He lay on his side with the knife cradled against his chest like some scary version of a teddy bear.

“There’re scrambled eggs if you want it,” Katniss said. “And some bacon. I left it on the stove.”

She couldn’t set the mug down. Wasn’t enough space on the coffee table and Haymitch grunted at the sound of glass against glass when she tossed the empties in the container by the door.

He muttered something she couldn’t make sense of and pulled his arm up over his eyes to ward off the light from the one lamp. “Drink the broth at least.” She placed the cup at arm’s reach and was gone.

It was almost a month now since Haymitch set up camp on their couch. One day mid-dinner he just staggered into their living room and he hadn’t left since.

He was decent enough to not completely trash the place but still, you didn’t want Haymitch Abernathy for a roommate. He was hard enough to deal with nextdoor.

Katniss couldn’t stand it being at home these days. Haymitch woke both her and Peeta almost every night with the agonized sounds he made in his sleep and daytime was no better.

Their mentor, hollow-eyed and shrunken on the couch – it all reminded her too much of her mother and Katniss fled when she couldn’t help. She kept to the woods as much as possible and if not the woods the bakery or the Hob or Hazelle’s.

Anywhere but home.

When they finally asked him if it wasn’t time he moved back to his own house, they cleaned it for him, Haymitch only shot them a long look, like a dog they had just mistreated and rolled over so he faced the couch.

“She’s there,” that’s all he muttered.

And what could they do? Not tie him up and dump him somewhere. He was their mentor and they already owed him more than they could ever repay.

They had known something was off the moment they got home, the day before Christmas Eve.

They walked up the old pathway, loaded with bags and the first thing they saw when they passed Haymitch’s house was the Christmas tree lying in the snow, still green and frosty and covered with ornaments. Like someone had just thrown it out the door.

And it wasn’t the only thing.

In the ever-growing light they saw the ground littered with items. Towels and bed sheets and bath robes lay in bundles, all frozen stiff. Soggy, old newspapers and magazines too, blown apart by the frisk wind.

Her clothes were everywhere, along with an endless number of bottles and jars and other beauty products half-buried in the snow. They found napkins and slippers, perfume bottles and pillows. Hairbrushes, tea cups, blankets, curtains, shower curtains, even anagrammed towel hangers attached to chunks of the bathroom wall.

The state of his house was even worse, like a twister had gone through it. They asked him about it but Haymitch was a closed book.

Then, of course they found Effie’s note on their kitchen table and it wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened in their short absence.

They wanted to help. Of course they did. Only, how? Wasn’t like they could change what had already happened or say anything to make it better.

Not that Peeta didn’t try to talk to him. Talk at him. Finally Katniss stepped up and said, not unkindly,

“Just leave him be.”

Haymitch had said next to nothing the whole time but when Katniss and Peeta turned to leave he stopped them in their tracks.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said and looked Peeta straight in the eye; a feat considering how intoxicated he was. “You don’t get any ideas ‘bout calling the Capitol, alright. I mean it, boy. This is my wreckage.”

Sun set early this time of year. For the remaining hours, Katniss and Peeta dug for treasures in Haymitch’s garden, until they had to squint in order to see. And even then some of Effie’s belongings would probably not be found until Spring.

They brought it all back to their house. Silently, Peeta filled the sink with hot water and suds and washed the plates and glasses and tea cups while Katniss stood at the ready with a towel, both of them deep in thought.

Back in District 4, when Peeta gathered her in bed, he had teased her about their cosy, up-coming Christmas. Painted her pictures of Effie plaguing both her and Haymitch with her bright holiday spirit and bringing them gifts – wrapped in regular wrappings so she didn’t technically break Haymitch’s rule of “no Christmas presents.”

Dinner at the Hob would follow where Effie would spend about two thirds of it clucking over Haymitch’s table manners and Haymitch stating he should just hire her voice to cut his turkey for him and “we’re not doing this again, that’s for sure”, all the while not quite able to keep his hands to himself.

“And then they’ll top the evening with a see-through excuse like ‘I’m gonna go get a bottle’ or ‘I am simply exhausted. Do you mind if we call it a night?’,” Peeta finished and grinned at Katniss who squirmed like a worm in hot ashes.

It just felt good to make fun of their mentor being happy for once. Happy with Effie.

Now, everything was in ruins and tomorrow would be just like any other day, with Haymitch drunk and getting drunker.

Not that Christmas had ever been a busy affair in the Victor’s Village. They had dinner and that was pretty much it. A slightly fancier one, perhaps, with about a 50% chance of Haymitch joining. He only ever showed up last New Year’s because of Effie.

Because of Effie. That phrase applied for many aspects of Haymitch’s life, didn’t it? He’d deny it but just the fact she got him to even consider drying out pretty much said everything.

“Maybe we should call her,” Peeta wondered, not sure himself.

“But you heard him,” Katniss said. “This is none of our business. And they’ll come around, eventually.”

They were both so used to their mentor and escort’s antics. Those stubborn, old fools were always at each other’s throat and through and through they found a way back to one other. Back at each other’s side.

This too would pass, surely? Sooner or later, one of them would swallow their pride and pick up the phone.

And while Katniss and Peeta waited for that call they stored Effie’s things for safe-keeping, well out of Haymitch’s sight and stopped asking questions.

But February rolled to a close with dark days and even darker nights. Life in Twelve was just one storm after another and people were forced to seek shelter at the Hob so as not to get lost in them. The vixen’s cry echoed in the night and Katniss and Peeta stored up on candle sticks for the blackouts.

March came with the deceiving breath of spring only to bury the district in a second winter. Hazelle’s kids put her on bed rest after a sprained ankle. Brooks gushed in plentiful streams under the ice and an apple-cheeked Katniss returned from the woods, game bag loaded with wild turkey.

April arrived with warmer weather. Tiny greens peeked in people’s gardens and the patches of last year’s grass grew bigger for each day. Water dropped down every icicle and town’s kids and Seam kids alike melted snow in water barrels to make the spring come faster.

Everyone kept busy. It was a time of change, of rebirth. Winter was finally over and it had a rejuvenating effect on everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Effie’s name was never mentioned and yet she was ever present. If an outsider walked past and saw Haymitch on the couch he might think “same old, same old”. But Katniss and Peeta were family and they knew him better than that.

Haymitch had never been an easy person to deal with and definitely not a happy-go-lucky one. But every once in a while, if he had a couple hours of dreamless sleep it was like he got an energy boost.

That’s when he got up, checked on the geese, helped Peeta in the bakery, maybe just had a hot meal down at the Hob before he returned to his bottles.

Now, it was like he didn’t care about anything anymore. He just lay on the couch, drinking and God help the one who bothered him. He only ever left for the bathroom breaks or when his liquor ran out.

But even that came to an end.

It happened when Haymitch staggered into the Hob on a Sunday morning.

“Usual,” he slurred and tossed handfuls of money on Ripper’s bar counter.

“Sorry, Haymitch. You’re too early,” she said. “The train doesn’t arrive until Monday. We’re all out now.”

“Usual!” Haymitch repeated, louder this time like she was slow. Sighs rose from around the tables.

“It’s Sunday,” Ripper told him patiently. “Come back tomorrow and I’ll get your bottles. I can’t sell it to you now because we’re out.”

She couldn’t make him understand. Each time she tried Haymitch only got surlier. “Wha’s the problem?” he whined. “I have money. Wha’s the problem?”

He scared some of the little kids eating breakfast with their parents. The temperature in the diner seemed to have dropped twenty degrees and finally a gray-haired old man muttered, loud enough for Haymitch to hear it,

“Who’d have thought we’d ever wish for that fancy sow to come back?”

That’s when Haymitch wielded his knife. He was so drunk it was pathetic but for Ripper that was it! She kicked him out and told him either he left his knife at home or he would have to get someone else to buy him his liquor.

From then on, Katniss and Peeta stocked up his supplies and Haymitch found even fewer reasons to get up.

What for?

Maybe it would have been better, Katniss thought. Less cruel, if he never got those precious few months with Effie. Because losing her, losing her altogether and not just as a lover, seemed to have opened a crack in his rock bottom and pushed him down that hole as well.

And Effie, how was she doing?

xXx

May. God, he hated May. Ever since he turned twelve, the month right before the Hunger Games was nothing but a ticking clock. Even now, years after the war had ended, there were still times when he started awake, thinking,

Reaping day’s almost here!

He couldn’t sleep. While he marinated his liver a bug had detoured in to the house and was now buzzing about in the window.

The sound unnerved him because the bloody thing just wouldn’t give up! It bumped and thumped against the glass over and over again, yearning for freedom.

It was Peeta’s damn fault. He always opened a window when it rained.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, alright,” Haymitch growled and swung his legs off of the couch.

It was a wasp. Not the tracker jacker kind, just a regular one. It crawled along the window sill, flew into the glass once more and wiggled it’s antennae in irritation.

“Out with you now,” Haymitch muttered as he struggled with the window hooks. “Be free.” And watched the bug disappear.

The night air felt balmy against his skin. He took his time unscrewing the lid on the silver hip flask. The geese were quiet for a change but the mockingjays were still up, frisky and begging for company. He ran his hand through his wild beard and drank the flask dry. It didn’t take long.

He was just looking for something to fill it up with when he heard the sound. One even his soaked brain could place.

A phone. Ringing.

His mind jumped to Effie and he could’ve kicked himself for it. He resisted the desire to slam the window shut and closed it before he returned to the couch. The coffee table held nothing but empties. They clinked under his fingertips until he found one with some in it. He lifted it to his lips and greeted the burn with a sigh of relief.

Outside, the ringing continued. Even with the window closed, there was no escaping it.

It’s not her. Why’d she call now? No reason for her to call now.

After what felt like 10 years, the phone silenced. The knot in his stomach eased somewhat and after he promised himself to tear the phone out the wall as soon as the sun rose he walked over to the cabinet and peeked inside.

“Thank you, kids,” he mumbled at the welcomed sight. He grabbed same bottles at random and brought them back to the couch. But before he got the chance to flop down on his ass-print the phone went off again.

“Oh, fuck me,” he wheezed.

Who called him at three in the morning? No, strike that. Who called him, period?

Sweat trickled down his sides in never-ending streams. The sound played on his nerve strings like a violin. It was the wasp all over again because the caller, whoever it was, didn’t give up. Refused to stop until he did something about it.

A hundred whispered insults spilled over Haymitch’s lips as he pulled on his shoes.

He hadn’t seen the inside of his house in months. The last time he was here had been a fucking nightmare. Broken furniture, broken everything.

The long, hard signals cut through the stillness like a knife.

It’s not her.

He picked up the phone and the blare of music nearly ripped her ear drum. He held the thing a meter away.

“Hello?” someone called. “Helloo?”

He brought the phone closer.

“Who is this?”

“Well, hi to you too!” the person laughed. It was a woman’s voice. One he recognized, only he couldn’t quite place it. From the Capitol at least. “How’s the bachelor’s life treating you, Haycock?” the stranger woman asked. When he didn’t answer she went on, “It’s me, Gloria! Gloria Highgrass. We met at Octavia’s birthday party, remember? Yellow dress. Good-for-nothing cousin by my side.”

Haymitch drew a silent sigh. Of course.

“Where you’ve been hiding, hm?” she asked. ”Haven’t seen you in a while. Finally tired of your afternoon delight?”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself.”

“Oh,” Gloria chuckled. “You kiss your bottle with that mouth? What would Effie said?”

Her words drew giggles. Clearly, they had an audience and he was just about to slam the phone down when she said,

“I just saw her, that little cock-warmer of yours. And between you and me: I don’t blame you for leaving. What a mess, haha! You screwed her up good, Haycock! She’s so unfuckable now! Well done, sir. Well done.”

And her brilliant laughter hammered his head.

“Do you know we all placed bets on how long the two of you would last? It’s true! You cost me a fortune, Haycock! You guys stuck it out way longer than I thought. And then my useless cousin told me about your little scene at the train station. ‘Get your shit together’ and all that. God, I wish I was there!”

She had a sip of something and then rallied on,

”You wanna know what I think? I think she planned the whole thing. So you’d never leave her. Too bad she forgot that district scum scurry off like cockroaches once the light’s on. Well, she’s paying for it now, isn’t she? How’d she tell you? Before or after you cleared out?”

It was a wonder the phone didn’t break in Haymitch’s fist. He could hardly breathe, that’s how furious he was. But he refused to give this woman the satisfaction of him losing his temper.

“Hey, lady,” he said, in a very measured voice. “If you know something about Effie, spit it out. Or else you can just stop wasting my time and go back to your pathetic little life.”

That finally silenced her. For about three seconds.

”You don’t know?” she said. “You kidding me? He doesn’t know!”

And everyone on the other end broke down in hysterical laughter. Gloria contained hers just long enough to say,

”Come back to the Capitol, Haycock! See for yourself!”

And she slammed the phone in his ear.

He couldn’t stand another second in this place. Her things may be gone but he still felt Effie’s presence in every corner of the house. Like fumes slowly killing you.

He didn’t realize how much his hands trembled until he was back on the couch. He balled them into fists.

The nerve of that woman! “Come see for yourself.” The hell’s that supposed to mean?

He needed a drink. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tipped the first bottle he found in to his mouth, again and again until he came up choking.

The liquor numbed his worries like they numbed everything else.

“You screwed her up good.” Yeah, that’s likely. He didn’t fancy himself being important enough to lose even a minute’s sleep over.

Maybe so. But you’re not the only bad thing that’s happened to her. Remember?

“She’s fine,” he told the empty room. “Just fine.” Probably thrived now that she didn’t have to deal with him anymore. That low-life Gloria Highgrass was just fucking with his head. She wanted to cause a spectacle, get some gossip material, that’s all.

If Effie was in any kind of need all she had to do was pick up the phone and call him.

Besides, wasn’t like she kept in touch to see how he was fairing. It was damn clear she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And if she didn’t care, why should he?

Yeah, he thought and reached for the next bottle. Let her deal with her own demons.

xXx

If Haymitch thought he was the only one up he was wrong. Katniss slept a deep slumber for once but all the creaks and groans coming from the floorboards downstairs finally wormed their way into Peeta’s dreams until he flinched awake.

The room burned with morning light. Peeta’s heart pounded in his chest but he remained still so as not to disturb Katniss while he listened to the sounds below.

It wasn’t the first time Haymitch “ghosted the halls”. Peeta remembered it especially well from their train rides together and back at the penthouse during the Games.

Sometimes it seemed like Haymitch just couldn’t stand to remain in the same place, locked inside his own head. And that’s when he stalked from room to room, aimlessly. Like a bear in a cage. Well, a bear with a bottle in its paw.

No, it wasn’t the first time but it was the first time in a while. And he used to go to bed with the sun so what was he still doing up?

At least with Haymitch on the couch, you knew where you had him. Finally Peeta carefully extracted himself from Katniss and slipped out of bed, just to check on him. That wouldn’t be a first either.

He reached the foot of the stairs just as Haymitch returned in to the living room, surprisingly sober. Sobered up. He sunk down on the couch, elbows on his knees. He never noticed Peeta. His eyes were squarely focused on something in his hands.

Peeta couldn’t tell what it was at first but then Haymitch shifted it over and the penny suddenly dropped.

It was a paper goose. The paper goose. He knew it well because it used to sit on the window sill back in his studio. Haymitch must have ventured inside and stumbled upon it by co-incidence.

Effie’s paper goose. Well, Haymitch’s really since she gave it to him.

Peeta remembered the day she made it. It was the summer Haymitch had brought her here after the over-dose.

She had one of her good days and joined them for breakfast in the studio. He painted, Katniss ate cheese buns, Haymitch doodled a horrible caricature of Effie and in exchange she made him this little origami creature.

A good day in an ocean of bad ones.

Shortly after, the night terrors sent her in a down-ward spiral again and just to keep her from clocking out Haymitch said he thought about getting some geese. What’d she think?

The idea probably originated from Chaff. Eleven’s victor loved everything made from the bird. Roast goose and buttered potatoes, corned goose hash, fried eggs with mushrooms.

Those were the dishes he ordered at the training centre before the third Quarter Quell and if memory didn’t deceive Peeta he even told Caesar Flickerman after he was crowned victor, that he liked to raise geese once he returned to District Eleven.

Now he never really got that idea off the table. Instead, Haymitch did. Well, sort of. None of his birds had ever wound up on a plate.

In any case, Peeta bet the whole ”let’s go to Eleven” adventure wasn’t motivated by some great desire to buy geese. That’s just what Haymitch had her believe. Because for whatever reason Effie lived up a little whenever she got to plan things. It gave her a sense of control.

It was slick how he played it. Made her think “This will be good for Haymitch” when really it was “good for Effie”. Something to keep her mind occupied. His own way to try and coax her out of her depression.

A hundred memories drenched up by one paper bird. That’s what Peeta witnessed this very moment. Haymitch could have crushed it easily. Just made a fist and tossed it on the fire. He tossed everything else that even vaguely reminded him of her.

He didn’t. The way he held it, you’d think it was one of his goslings and he had a look on his face that would not have been there, had he known someone was watching.

“Morning,” Katniss yawned as she walked in to the kitchen, hours later. Peeta stood by the stove, quietly pouring hot water through the tea leaves. She reached for the jug of orange juice to set it on the table. “Where’s Haymitch at? I didn’t see him.”

“On the train.”

Katniss stopped, eyebrows lifted.

“You sure?”

In answer, he pointed at the table and she discovered the note, jotted down on a scrap of paper.

I’m gonna go see Effie. Call her and tell her I’m coming, OK? Thanks.

“You talked to her? What’d she say? What?” she asked at the look on Peeta’s face.

“I tried, for about an hour,” he said. “I can’t get through. The phone’s disconnected.”

xXx

Gem of Panem Mighty city Through the ages, you shine anew

Intertwined with their laughter, the Capitol anthem echoed around the deserted city. Morning light stretched their shadows into four giants as they walked down the street, arm-in-arm. Their makeup was smeared, the flowers in their outfits drooping. All evidence of what a smash hit the night had been!

We humbly kneel To your ideal And pledge our love to you!

Coriana’s voice rose highest of them all, the only member in their quartet who could hit all the high notes, drunk or sober, but they all joined in just as merrily with the voice they had.

Gem of Panem Heart of justice Wisdom crowns your marble brow

It felt good, comforting, to chant the age old verses of their childhood. The real anthem of Panem. The politically correct atrocity Paylor whipped together didn’t hold a candle to it!

You give us light You reunite To you we make our vow

Tipsy to say the least, Priscilla wobbled dangerously in her sky-high heels but each time she careened to far to the left, they steered her right again with many giggles and “Oopsy-daisy!”

Gem of Panem Seat of power Strength in peacetime, shield in strife

“Oh, this is my favorite part!” warbled Imogen who couldn’t carry a tune with a gun to her head.

Protect our land With armored hand Our Capitol, our…

Lancer gasped, mid-through the final crescendo. Linked with the others he almost toppled them over at sudden halt.

“My gracious!” he said. “It’s Haymitch Abernathy!”

Up ahead, a man had just appeared round a corner. Ruffled clothes, hair hanging forward, everything about him completely out of place here. He paid them no attention but it was him, without a doubt. The drunken traitor of District 12.

“You heard about him and Effie Trinket, right?” Imogen asked in a loud whisper.

“Of course we heard,” said Coriana. “The whole town knows.”

“Ugh. Just look at him.” Priscilla wrinkled her nose. “At least on television he dressed decently. Disgusting!”

“She’s the one who’s disgusting,” Lancer said and pursed his lips. “He’s district. What did you expect? But a Capitolian really should know better.”

“I would jump off a cliff if it was me!”

“It could never be you, Imogen, the very thought!” said Coriana. “What’s he doing here again? Flaunting himself on our streets after what he did. What they did!”

If Haymitch heard them he didn’t show it and he didn’t change his course. When they remained shoulder to shoulder, gawking at him he sawed right through them like they were a flock of pigeons and they jumped apart with furious cries.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Priscilla shouted to his back. “I really think you should!”

Those four weren’t the only ones who questioned what Haymitch was doing in the Capitol. Had there been one positive consequence of him and Effie breaking up it was that he would never have to see this place again.

Well, the joke’s on him.

She’s not back on pills, he told himself as he kicked a squashed ice cream cup far up the street. She promised she wouldn’t go down that road again.

The train ride was hell on earth. Throughout the long hours he failed to quiet his mind, to shake off his worries over Glorias’s words and why he couldn’t get a call through to Effie. Just thinking about their impending reunion made him sick, until he finally caved in to the bottles in his duffel.

Ironically, the one thing that stopped him from drinking himself completely senseless was the paper goose, now hitching a ride in his pocket. It helped him focus.

Walking the deserted avenues, through glitter and serpentines left from some party only reminded him of the first time he came here unannounced.

Little Ms. Hypocrite. She was one to talk about having someone almost die in your arms.

But she’s not back on pills.

The brightness of the sun reflected in the candy buildings, the lush public gardens alive with bird song, the bounty flowerbeds, the gushing fountains. It was like the Capitol mocked him with its splendor. Days like this were Effie’s favourites.

And there her building was. He saw it over the roof tops, windows reflecting bits of the blue sky. With a grimace, Haymitch slowed his steps like he’d run out of gas. Fuck it. He needed a drink. One more or less, what did it matter? He wasn’t going to stay here long anyway.

He was still struggling to close the zipper as he entered her street, her curb. He pulled the straps over his shoulder, about to give the door a knock.

And he just stared. Dumb-founded, for half a minute or more. Gaped at her front door, like the gaggle of fools he passed earlier.

No, no this can’t be right, he thought, unable to take in what his eyes were telling him. It’s gotta be a mistake.

The name plate on Effie’s door was gone. The window shutters were all closed. He turned the handle. It wouldn’t budge. He rang the bell. He knocked, pounded rather. No one opened. The place was completely dead.

But it made no sense! Effie had lived in this apartment almost all her life!

He walked over to the windows, shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he tried to peer through the shutters for any movements inside.

“Eff?”

He returned to the door, raised his hand for another knock.

“She’s not here,” a voice rung out.

He turned at the sound. On the other side of the road, just across from him, stood an old lady. The same dry twig of a woman he’d seen twice before. At least twice.

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said. The sun glinted off the gem stones in her wrinkled cheeks. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Didn’t think I would ever see you here again.”

He crossed the road.

“The hell’s going on here? Where’s Effie?”

The woman’s pale green eyes pierced his. She had to lift her chin to do it. Just like Sae she barely cleared his shoulders but that’s where the similarities ended. Because this woman’s eyes held none of her warmth or gaiety.

And yet, behind the frost he noticed that same sadness he’d seen there before. Only not for him.

“I warned her”, she said. “I told her from the very beginning not to get involved with someone like you. A man who would give her nothing but heartache. But she never heeded my advice. She didn’t want to listen.”

“Here’s an idea,” Haymitch cut her off. “How ‘bout you quit playing games with me and tell me what you know.”

“I blame myself,” the woman continued, unfazed by the interruption. “I insisted she applied for an escortship. If she became an architect like she first wanted, she wouldn’t be where she is now. Maybe none of us would.”

“Who are you?” Haymitch demanded. “What’s your name?”

“Mrs. Quinlan.”

Quinlan? He had definitely heard that name before. Nothing Games related, at least he didn’t think so. No, Effie had mentioned her at some point. Yeah, at the hospital, after her rescue. She asked if she was still alive. If she was safe.

Mrs. Q.

“You’re Eff’s landlady.”

The woman shook her head.

“Not anymore.”

“Because you kicked her out.”

“She’s beyond my help,” Mrs. Quinlan said. “Euphemia was a good girl, Mr. Abernathy. A good daughter. I have wept blood for her sake but I never gave up on her. Even after the war. She got one last chance to make amends. To build up a life for herself that she could be proud of. And she went and threw it all away the moment she decided to keep your young.”

Haymitch heard the words, loud and clear, but it was like he couldn’t absorb them. Make sense of what she just said.

It was like when he was little and broke his arm, falling down a tree. They all saw it was broken but it didn’t hurt. Not straight away. Like the shock was so great nothing registered.

“’Keep my young?’ he rasped. Heat rose up his throat and face until it burned. “What do you mean ‘keep my young’?”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise registered on Mrs. Quinlan’s face.

“Where is she?” He didn’t think his voice would carry at all. Instead it echoed around the buildings. “If not here, where’s she staying?”

“Go home, Mr Abernathy,” she said. “You have done enough damage as it is.”

“If you don’t want me to wake the entire neighborhood, you tell me where she is!”

Sleepy heads already poked out windows at the commotion. There were murmurs, curious looks thrown their way. Mrs. Quinlan’s lips pressed into the same tight line.

“She moved in with Caesar Flickerman’s daughter. I assume I don’t have to tell you which one.”

xXx

The bearded dragon slumped on her favorite spot in the vivarium - a gnarled old tree root and basked in the warm rays slanting through the windows.

When they first got her she fitted in your pocket. Now they had to use both hands to carry her properly. Sandy yellow and with a look on her face like “you’re all beneath me” you’d think she was the distant cousin of a certain District 12 cat but it was only an illusion.

“Hey, you,” June said and slipped a hand inside the enclosure, knuckles down, fingers outstretched in an inviting gesture. The reptile crawled down the root and over to her. June gave her a soft scratch under the spiky chin and the animal climbed up her palm.

Annabel sat by the secretary desk, her tea long cold and forgotten, but when June passed, she took the time petting their dragon before she returned to her letter. She eyed what she’d just written, critically and gave a deep sigh.

“They won’t even…”

“They will,” said June. She had settled on the couch with the dragon on her lap. The animal closed her eyes under the soft strokes.

It had been a quiet, docile morning with just the occasional car passing by and the gentle scratch of pen against paper.

“The crates should arrive today,” said June and reached for her own cup of tea.

Right on cue the bell rang.

“Speaking of the devil,” said Annabel. She set the pen down and slowly and painfully flexed her fingers.

It rang again, on her way through the hallway.

“Coming!” She pulled her hair back in a hasty pony tail. A shadow moved behind the frosted glass. She took the chain off the door.

And came face to face with the victor of District 12.

”Mr. Abernathy,” she said, eyebrows lifted. “I…”

He didn’t let her finish.

”Effie,” he said. His face was a deep red. “She here?”

“Bel?” June’s voice fluttered in from the living room.

“Is she here?” Haymitch repeated, the fury behind the words only barely contained. “Never mind that. I know she is.”

“She’s here, Mr. Abernathy,” said Annabel.

That’s all he needed. He pushed past her.

“Eff?” he called as he stalked into the living room. June had risen, face white as paper. The dragon’s tail flailed between her cupped hands at the sudden alarm.

Annabel had followed inside and he turned on her again.

“I know all about it,” he spat. She could smell the hard liquor fumes on him. June quickly set the reptile back in the safety of the vivarium. “I know she’s pregnant so don’t try and lie to me!”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s resting.”

“Well, go and wake her up!”

“Mr. Abernathy,” she said, voice suddenly firm. “You will not shout in my house.”

“I don’t care! She thought she can just have my kid and never tell me? Who the hell does she think she is!? I wanna talk to her. Give her a piece of my mind!”

“Not until you’ve calmed down!”

“The hell with you! I’ll go find her myself.”

He turned for the door but she was right at his heel.

“Stop it!” June cried when Haymitch shoved Annabel’s hand off of him. The tea cup knocked over and crashed against the floor. The dragon ran frantically around in its cage. “Stop!”

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“Haymitch, what are you doing!?”

Her cry made them all turn. Flushed and out of breath from the rush and alarm Effie stood in the doorway, a robe carelessly thrown over her nightdress. Her eyes locked on his, for the first time in months and the words choked in his throat. It was like the rest of the room and everyone in it just disappeared. Everyone but Effie.

And through the blood pounding in his head he could make only one coherent thought.

What have I done to her?

xXx

“I’ll be in the back if you need anything,” Annabel said as she swept up the last of the broken cup. A spitting mad June had already retreated to their bedroom, carrying the dragon with her and now Annabel went as well, leaving Haymitch and Effie to talk in private.

Not that Haymitch looked like he’d ever speak again. He hunkered in the armchair with his arms crossed over his chest. Effie sat on the couch but they could just as well be light years apart.

“Who told you?” she asked in a hushed voice.

”Does it matter?” He wasn’t yelling now. Wouldn’t even look at her. He seemed to have aged ten years in the past half hour.

“No,” said Effie. “No, I suppose not.”

She had a blanket draped over herself. Like that was going to hide anything.

“I thought you were on the pill?”

“I was.”

“Time and money you could’ve saved, clearly,” he said through gritted teeth. “And the whole Capitol knows I’m the father?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I wanted to tell you.”

“So why didn’t you? If you have my kid rolling around in your tummy I deserve to know about it, don’t you think?”

When she didn’t answer straight away his eyes darted to her face. And his insides contracted all over again as cold panic flooded his limbs.

“What, Eff?”

”It’s...” Her voice faltered. “We’re not...”

“We’re what?”

He saw his own anxiety mirrored in her eyes. She placed her hand against her stomach and his throat closed up. Because he knew the truth before she said it.

No! No, I don’t wanna hear it!

”It’s two,” she said. “Haymitch, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. I didn’t…”

But Haymitch had already heaved himself to his feet. He wanted to throw up. He would throw up.

“I can’t do this.”

”Wait,” she said but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at her and her big stomach.

”I need some air.”

xXx

“Good afternoon, Mathilda,” Mr. Bumble smiled when he crossed her door. His elegant, twirled up mustache was dyed a dusk pink today, the same color as the lap dog, freezing at his feet.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bumble,” Mrs. Quinlan said, hoping he would pick up on the very inappropriate use of her first name.

He didn’t.

“I’d stay and chat,” he said, “but Helga is waiting for us.” And he gave his bouquet of blue roses a little wave. “It’s our anniversary, you know! 25 years!”

“How wonderful. Give her my best,” Mrs. Quinlan said mechanically as he trotted off down the street. If Helga was home or even remembered what day it was, she would eat up her hat.

She dropped the key in to her handbag and crossed the road, mindful of any ice patches hidden under the fresh snow.

The door was locked but that she only expected. So she slipped her hand into her handbag and got out different set of keys. Normally she took pride in not using them but the girl had sounded very off on the phone. Sad.

“Euphemia?” she said as she stepped inside. The flat was dark but she turned the lights on as she went. She knew her way around this apartment, almost as well as her own. “Euphemia, where are you?”

She heard noises from the master bedroom. Retches that led her straight for the adjoined bathroom.

Effie’s nightgown clung to her with sweat. Slumped down on her knees, she clutched the toilet seat as she threw up. Tears and perspiration rolled down her face from the ordeal.

She didn’t hear anyone come in. That way she never saw the complete and utter shock on Mrs. Quinlan’s face. But she quickly composed herself again.

“Euphemia.”

Effie looked up, startled.

“Oh”, she groaned. She was pale as a sheet, her eyes wet and red. “Mrs. Q, now’s… not a good time.”

And she disappeared inside the bowl again as the next wave rolled in.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t say anything. She just pulled up a stool and seated herself. She gathered Effie’s hair with one hand and held it back from her face until the worst was over.

When Effie grew still, head heavy against her arms, just heaving breaths of both exhaustion and relief Mrs. Quinlan reached for a towel.

“Here,” she said and soaked it under the faucet. “Clean yourself.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Q,” Effie mumbled and dabbed her mouth with it. She felt Mrs. Quinlan’s eyes on her and tried to elude them by wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I am not quite myself today.”

“Euphemia.”

“Must be something I ate.”

“Euphemia, look at me, please.”

With an enormous effort, Effie lifted her head. She swallowed and swallowed. The color of her face had returned, from barely holding it together.

“Are you with child?”

Those words did it. It was like a dam broke. Effie buried her face against her babysitter’s lap and now they came. All those pent-up tears she hadn’t been able to shed since that awful day with Haymitch on the train station.

Mrs. Quinlan’s face was taut as a string.

”There now,” she murmured and stroked Effie’s hair. ”You will be alright. It’s going to be just fine.”

Effie soaked Mrs. Quinlan’s skirt with her sobs and it was like she was little again.

She’d been four or five and accidentally knocked over a vase. Everything in Mrs. Quinlan’s apartment was either ancient or valuable or both and little Effie stared in horror at the broken pierces. Finally she ran off and hid.

For the next half-hour Mrs. Quinlan had to go from room to room and from closet to closet, peer inside the cupboards and behind every thick curtain, calling her name. When she finally found her in the laundry basket Effie was so terror-struck she burst in to a wail of tears.

But Mrs. Q just scoped her up, pulled a dirty child sock off the side of her dress and carried her into the living room. With her skinny arms linked around Mrs. Q’s neck Effie sniveled and whimpered the entire time, her little body racked with sobs.

Mrs. Q. wrapped her in one of her own shawls that smelled of perfume and to the rhythm of the creaky old rocking chair, she hummed her to sleep with a Capitol lullaby.

She had never felt so safe.

“Why don’t you take a shower, Euphemia,” Mrs. Quinlan said once Effie’s sobs had subsided a little. She patted her hand between her own icy ones. “And then you and I will have a cup of nice, hot tea.”

“Oh, that is awfully sweet, mrs. Q, but I think I rather,” she started to object but Mrs. Quinlan only waved a finger in the air.

“It will do you some good,” she said. “Tea at my place, four o’clock.”

Effie had avoided Mrs. Quinlan’s flat for the past almost two years. She had spent a great deal of her childhood in the company of her landlady when mother and father couldn’t or wouldn’t take their daughter with them to one of their events.

But these days there was only one subject Mrs. Q wanted to discuss when they met and Effie found herself coming up with excuses. Because it didn’t matter how many times she tried to change the subject, Mrs. Q always steered the conversation back on the same sole topic.

Haymitch Abernathy.

Effie never talked about her and Haymitch’s relationship. Not with Mrs. Q or anyone else. But living just across the road, Mrs. Quinlan seemed to know everything anyway.

She didn’t approve. She never liked the gruff and unrefined victor of District 12 and nothing could change her mind.

She just didn’t understand. How could she? No one in the Capitol did.

“How far along are you?” she asked and poured them tea from the plump china pot. Effie tried to breathe through her nose. Just thinking about ingesting something made her queasy.

“Nine weeks.”

“Have you told him yet? Are you sure it’s his?”

“Mrs. Quinlan,” said Effie tiredly. “We’ve been through this. I’m sorry, but it’s private and really no one else’s business.”

“So, I take that as a yes,” she said mildly.

Exhausted, Effie’s eyes wandered longingly to the snow-specked window beyond Mrs. Q.

“He should have taken precautions,” the old woman said. “The situation he puts you in.”

”It wasn’t his fault,” said Effie. ”It just… happened.”

Mrs. Quinlan poured cream into her cup but Effie didn’t touch it. All she really wanted was to lie down.

There were cookies rounded up on the silvery cake stand. The frosting wasn’t like Peeta’s. Not nearly as nice but looking at them only reminded her of those lazy days in District 12 and Haymitch, teasing her for having such a sweet-tooth.

”Drink now,” said Mrs. Quinlan. “Add a little honey. Or would you rather I put some ginger in? It helps with the nausea.”

“No, it’s OK.”

Effie lifted the cup just to humor her. She was about to take a sip when the warm scent curled into her nose. A crease appeared between her eyebrows.

Mrs. Quinlan didn’t like surprises. Her routines had been virtually unchanged for the past decades. She washed her hands with the same kind of rose soap, combed her hair with the ivory comb that had survived two wars and she always drank jasmine tea.

This wasn’t jasmine tea. Effie should know. After all those tea parties at this very table, the flowery aroma was forever ingrained in her memory. She took another tentative sniff of the strange and unfamiliar fragrance.

It had a faint minty quality but not quite like the mint tea in District 12. She doubted she ever had it in the Capitol either. And yet the smell tugged at her, tried to tell her something.

Her eyes flitted to Mrs. Quinlan. The old woman stirred her own cup in slow, precise circles. The silver spoon rasped the bottom of the china. A cup she had yet to touch.

And a wave of dread flushed Effie’s face when the name surfaced.

”It’s pennyroyal.”

Mrs. Quinlan looked her in the eye. Her face was as hard and unyielding as the gems in her cheeks.

”You should never have let him into your bed.”

The beverage scalded Effie’s hands when she pushed back from the table. She stared at Mrs. Quinlan, eyes wide in terror.

”It’s for your own good, Euphemia. Nobody ever needs to know. It will be like it never happened.”

Effie didn’t stay to hear the rest. She fled the room, didn’t bother with her coat just bolted for the door. Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t work the locks and one terrible moment she thought herself trapped.

Footsteps approached or she imagined they did and a shriek escaped her lips. Then the door flew open and she staggered out into the sleet.

Blood pounded her ears as she locked her front door, fled into her bedroom and locked that door as well. She was shaking all over and slumped rather than sat down on the bed, hand clamped over her mouth.

I didn’t drink it. I never drank it.

Her vision was so blurred it took her three efforts to dial the right number. Her hand found her tummy and she tried to draw slow, deep breaths to calm the erratic beating of her heart.

”It’s OK,” she whispered to the unborn baby in her belly. ”It’s OK. You’re OK.”

So many signals just came and went, her hopes faltered with each one. Until,

“What?”

A sob slipped between her lips at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t help it. Her palm remained against her bump that wasn’t even a bump yet. Just a slight swelling beneath her dress. It made her feel stronger.

”Haymitch?” She fought to keep her voice steady. ”Haymitch, it’s me.”

“Ah, there she is,” he said with the nasty edge that sometimes crept into his voice when he drank, especially now under these circumstances. “Long time no princess. What can you want?”

“I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.”

“Oh, I remember that voice. Effs Trinket needs a shoulder to cry on, huh? So she goes to good ol’ Haymitch. Course.” She heard him take a swig from a bottle. “It’s too bad mine’re all the way down here, then. Both of ‘em.”

“I can take the train.” Tears threatened to spill over her lashes but she held them back. Didn’t want to break down in to a blubbering mess. ”If I go now I ought to be…”

“Here in a day. Yeah. And I’m supposed to just welcome you with open arms?”

“Haymitch…”

“That’s my name.”

“I really must speak to you. It’s im…”

“What for?” he cut her off. “I’m a dead-end drunk, remember?”

“I’ve never called…”

“No, that’s right. Your words were much fancier.”

A wave of despair rose up within Effie. It was like a physical pain.

“I know you’re angry,” she said. ”This is not easy for me either but…”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just fine. Can’t ruin a life that’s already ruined, right? I s’pose you want all your crap back? Yeah, the kids have it. They think you’re gonna come back, you know. ‘When hell freezes over’, am I right? But you know Peeta. I’ll just tell ‘em to send it over straight away so you never have to set your foot here ever again. Great, huh?”

“You left me, Haymitch!” Effie cried and her voice broke. “I didn’t want you to go! I didn’t want it to end!”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He twisted the top of another bottle. “And don’t you worry your pretty head, sweetheart. You’ll get over it. Trust me. Soon you’re gonna find some nice, wholesome guy who does exactly what he’s told. It’ll be all: ‘Yes, Euphemia. No, Euphemia. Whatever you say, Eu…’”

“Don’t call me that!” she cried at the sound of Mrs. Quinlan’s name for her. “Haymitch, please!” She didn’t care that she begged now, hand clutched against her stomach like she could somehow protect it that way. ”Mrs. Q, she… she tried to… I need you! If you care about me at all…”

“Oh, I cared about you,” Haymitch said. “A lot. More than a lot. Should’ve fucking known better. So why don’t you call Plutarch or Octavia or any other of your friends and just leave me alone. Cause I owe you nothing. Nothing at all.”

Tears rolled down Effie’s face and she abandoned all efforts to try and stop them.

“I’m so stupid.”

“Have a wonderful life, Eff. I’m sure you’re gonna be deliriously happy.”

And she was left with just the flat audio tone.

Author’s note: I don’t know who I feel the most sorry for. Haymitch or Effie. How about you? And hayffie twins are on the way!

What did you think of Mathilda Quinlan? I face claim Geraldine Chaplin for her, the way she looked when she played Aurora in “The Orphanage”.

#hayffie #everlark #haymitch x effie #taste of strawberries fanfic #thg #post-mockingjay #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #fanfiction #myfanfiction #district 12 #the capitol

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heyktula · 5 years ago

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Fic Breakdown for Closer, Chapter One (aka, the DVD Extras)

So, chapter one of Closer, the first installment in Somewhere in Canada (the Terror kink AU)... went up today! And let me tell you what, I am hype because this is my very first longfic in the Terror fandom, and it's centered around a subject very near and dear to my heart—BDSM. It's a love letter to power exchange, the sheer joy of kink, conventions, and sex education.

Like other fic breakdowns I've done, this'll be in three parts—technical notes (like POV and stylistic choices), story notes (like characterization and kink info), and then, instead of the editing section I usually include, I'm going to talk about specific lines at the end.

I blame Edward for the line notes, tbh. I love him, but he's a himbo, and many things went unobserved in the course of this story.

(Okay, fine, it's not entirely his fault. Some of it is that he's just so steeped in kink that he doesn't think twice about a bunch of the stuff going on.)

Technical Considerations

Inspiration: So this fic is a love letter to kink, and kink education, and conventions, which in my experience can be life-changing opportunities to meet people with similar interests, and also to be able to do some exploration of your own and figure out what makes you tick. I'm pretty sure there's an AU version of me that makes their living off kink education and the convention circuit, but (un)fortunately, in this particular universe, I am a fic writer (and, occasionally, a paid one as well).

Closer is also a love letter to rough physical play. I remember sitting in my very first workshop on the topic, and just being wide-eyed that a) this is a thing, b) it looks fun. (It is, actually, fun.) There's a ton of reasons I love it—and hopefully, after Closer concludes, you'll be able to see some of the reasons why—but I also love that physical play doesn't have any financial barriers to entry. (The irony of Edward "rich boy" Little being heavily into it has not escaped me.)

Timeline: Hilariously, I actually started this verse for a Fitzier fic—it takes place six months from Closer, at the winter version of the conference—but while I was working my way through the Fitzier setup, I was like 'fuck it, I should write a quick one-off joplittle to establish the verse', and lo and behold, my "quick one-off" turned out to be sixty k, and it runs parallel to a Tozer/Irving that I have yet to write, but which is visible in Closer if you squint. So, uh, oops.

So this story fits into a very specific space in the timeline—that is, it's prior to Fitzjames and Crozier having met, but it's after the (second) Cracroft/Crozier breakup. (If you were wondering if that's why Francis isn't running his own damn booth, yes, that's why. He's very likely depression drinking in London at this very moment.)

Setting: I wanted to stay true to the spirit of the whole, you know, boatload of white men going to Canada and being confused, but I wanted them to go for better reasons. It's so rare that we get shows set in Canada, you know? And I feel very passionately about our winters here, in that I complain about them while they're happening, but I do also kind of enjoy the challenge, in a really fucked-up sort of a way. So I set the fic in Canada too, and then, because I was explicitly setting it here, I also got to lean into a bunch of Canadian stereotypes (like Goodsir living his best life in plaid and denim and the inevitable Tim Horton's jokes) and I actually had a lot of fun doing it, so I guess that was something I learned about myself.

Story Considerations:

Primary Kinks: So most people involved in BDSM have a "thing"—you know, the thing that they care about more than they care about any other things. And one of the most fun things for me about creating an AU like this is going through the characters and figuring out what everybody's niche is. Like, it makes sense to me that Hickey would be that edgeplay asshole that's in the kink scene specifically so he can fuck with people. Tozer having a military fetish (and also being a bit of a kink snob) totally fits with his whole "now what the bloody hell do people think that means?" speech.

If you've ever been to a fetish convention, you've seen guys like Blanky, who have been in the scene forever, and made their name handcrafting BDSM gear. They're easy to talk to, and will totally tell you about that time they ran an entire scene using only items found in their kitchen. You've seen women like Sophia Cracroft, who have a cluster of people surrounding her at all times, and who is never short of someone who will bring her tea if it looks like she's thirsty. And you've also seen guys like Ross, who are reasonably famous in their areas of expertise—the kind of guy that you see across the hall, and you're like "shit, is that James Clark Ross?" (And it is! Holy shit!)

Canadian Kink: So! I live in the prairies, and it's as conservative as hell out here. That means there's some specifics to kink culture that I'm not sure translate to other parts of Canada—and they definitely don't translate back to England. For example, every public event I've ever been to (by which I mean every event that wasn't being held in someone's house) has mandated that penetration cannot occur during the event. No toys in orifices, no bits in other bits, no mucous membranes touching, no oral, no fingering, no handjobs, no intercourse, all that kind of stuff. I'm not convinced that you couldn't have sex in a dungeon in, say, Vancouver, or Toronto, or any of the other bigger centers—but that hasn't been my experience in the prairies, and I kept those restrictions for plot purposes in Closer. (Sorry, Jopson. I promise I still love you.)

Canadian weapons laws being what they are also means that some of the gear that's totally okay in other places (like butterfly knives) is totally illegal in Canada (sorry, Tozer. No apologies for you, Hickey.). The sap gloves that Edward is mourning are, unfortunately, one of the items that get lost in the shuffle. Sap gloves are pretty neat—they're leather gloves which are weighted with lead on the knuckles/backs of the hands. They make your punches harder, but they also protect your hands—and, for somebody like Edward, who does a lot of punching when he plays, that protection is definitely beneficial. Plus, they're a bit of a signalling thing—having a set of sap gloves hanging off your belt makes it very clear what kind of things you're into, and I think Edward is a bit bereft not having that this weekend, because he's not used to having to make those introductions cold.

Edgeplay: There's sort of a, er. Spectrum of what is and isn't considered to be "acceptable" kink, even within the kink community. Some kinds of kink are seen as more publicly acceptable, and some kinds are relegated back to the fringes and the dark corners. In the context of Closer, that means Tozer, Hickey, and Little are our resident edgeplayers. This isn't a judgement on the type of play they do (well, it is a judgement on Hickey, but we don't have time to go into *gestures* all that), but it is a statement about the way that type of play is perceived. Sophia Cracroft can, with very little finessing, put photographs of her in rope suspension onto her various social media accounts, and as long as she's clothed, it's perfectly acceptable content to just have out there, and people are going to call it artistic and Instagram-worthy. Tozer, on the other hand, ain't getting any recordings of interrogation scenes he's run posted anywhere except to Pornhub. (The less we say about Hickey's knife-play, the better.)

Similarly, because the rough physical play that Edward does looks fairly intense from the outside (and is pretty intense from the inside), he gets to live in the not-that-publicly-acceptable area of kink. The area of kink where they usually put the crash mats at the far end of the dungeon, because that way, if you don't want to watch two people whaling on each other with their fists, you don't need to see it. This "stigma" is important in Edward's conception of himself, because on one hand, we see in his conversation with Goodsir that Edward absolutely knows his shit and, hero-worship of Crozier aside, has the knowledge base to be a fantastic educator in his own right—but we also see the subtle kinkshaming coming from both Hickey and Tozer about where Edward's place is in all this. That is to say—Edward's place is with them, in the dark shadowy spots, and not in the "socially acceptable" circles that Crozier's circle of people (Jopson included) are perceived to be running in. (There's a sense, coming from Tozer, that there's no point in Edward pursuing getting onto the org committee for the conference itself, because they won't want someone like Edward there—but, again, that's some pretty insidious kinkshaming coming from Tozer, and we could all just let that go and be better for it. Goodsir clearly doesn't feel like Edward's presence would be a detriment.)

So, yeah. I'll excuse Tozer's kinkshaming bullshit temporarily, as he needs to sort himself out. I don't think he's trying to drag Edward down so much as he just thinks Edward's being a bit delusional, and wants to save him the disappointment when Jopson invariably rejects him for being way too kinky and intense. (If Edward is moping around all weekend, he'll be in the hotel room, and how's Tozer supposed to get his dick sucked by random hookups then? "Yeah, come on back to mine, don't mind my roommate, he's a moody bastard and won't participate even if we ask." Not winning any prizes there, lads.)

I won't excuse Hickey's kinkshaming; he's definitely trying to make Edward feel like shit on purpose. I could speculate as to the reasons, but they're probably gross. (I mean, I know the reasons. Hickey's gonna Hickey.)

(There's a whole entire essay I could write about incorrect assumptions that literally everyone is making about the type of play Thomas Jopson must be into, based on his nice hair and nice eyes and nice smile, but I'll just let Jopson handle those corrections on his own, as he's very capable of doing so.)

Concerning the Chapter Title: If you were gonna take a risk, Neddo, the social was the time to do it—and you done fucked that up, sweetheart.

Tomorrow is another day. Give it another shot then, yeah?

Line Notes:

Edward looks across the hall again, cringes. “No, fuck, that’s—no, I think that’s Sophia Cracroft, Sol, I’m not—Christ. Sophia Cracroft, Jesus.”

I will never not find this introduction to Edward Little fucking hilarious, because he comes off as so competent from Jopson's POV when he's arguing with Hickey in the parking lot, and yet the moment we see Edward in his own POV, he's just a mess. I love him very much, but he's a mess. This was one of the deciding factors in the dual POV as well—I knew going in that the brunt of the story was going to be from Edward's POV, but weaving in those occasional Jopson bits lets us see how Edward looks from the other side.

(Also, Tozer three hundred percent knows exactly who Sophia Cracroft is, because he demonstrates that, like, two sentences later, meaning that he’s literally just winding Edward up here, and it goes right over Edward’s head. God.)

It’s the older guy across the hall that’s laughing his ass off, but the cutie is standing right next to him, looking down at his phone, his ears charmingly pink.

As a reminder, Edward is wearing a white tank, and just stretched his arms out behind his back. The nipple piercings are very obvious, Jopson was three hundred percent staring, and Blanky definitely caught him and is laughing his ass off about it.

“…I know what this is about,” Tozer says, tying an orange bandana around his left bicep.

The orange bandana is a hanky code thing—which, yes, it's dated, and it's not really in use anymore, but Tozer seems like the kind of guy that would tattoo his kinks on his forehead just so everybody could see them if they would all fit. Failing to find any way to gracefully do that, we instead have the orange hanky ("anything goes") on the left arm ("top").

(Older guy, thankfully, is wearing a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. Cutie isn’t. So there’s no obvious problems there.)

Jopson not wearing a ring indicates literally nothing about whether or not he's available, but I guess whatever makes Edward feel better about himself is fine. He's right with his assumption about Jopson, in this case, but it's literally nothing more than a wild guess, and the mental hoops he's jumping through only exist to make him feel better about himself.

(Esther usually attends these events with Blanky—but somebody needed to hold down the fort in London this time, and so she's in London at present. It's for the best, she can check on Francis every so often.)

[Hickey] sticks his hand in the pocket of his latex cargo shorts...

I won't take criticism on this fashion statement, constructive or otherwise.

So, that's it for this week! Chapter two, Aware, goes up next Friday! See you then! And if you have questions or anything in the meantime, you can always drop me an ask on tumblr or Curious Cat!

#the terror #the terror fic #my fic #fic: closer #fic breakdown #fic: the terror kink au

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mahinxxx · 5 years ago

Text

Stares

A/N: This is my first time writing a Jungkook x Reader type thing. I don’t know how well it’s going to do and I’m writing this as a practice run to see how everyone likes it and what not, so I’d really appreciate the feedback, it’ll mean a lot to me. Other than that I hope you enjoy this (:

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, cute, college, small get together

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Nothing big, just get ready for a lot of fluff

Summary: Busy with college stuff your best friend decides to take you out to a gathering with some people he knew seeing as how stressed you become with the pile of work you had from school. There you meet the one and only Jeon Jungkook, someone who you’d never expect to even pop up in your life and yet here you both were staring at each other

It had been a super long day, you were getting a headache from even thinking about all the work you had left to today, everything was just piling up and you were on the verge of breaking down.

You dug through your bag to look for your keys and opened up the door to find the apartment empty. Feeling the emptiness around the place you go around to see if your roommate was home

He was supposed to be cooking dinner tonight why was he not here?

Frustrated you put your stuff down in your room and called him, after about three or four rings he finally picks up

“Hi y/n” He says laughing

“Why aren’t you home Hoseok? You’re supposed to have dinner ready and I’m over here starving”

He cursed to himself a little bit

“I’m so sorry y/n, I got side tracked with the boys that I forgot to even text you about the plans”

You had a confused face printed on

“What plans?” You asked carefully

“The boys had invited me over for a little get together and so I wanted to bring you along, epically after all the work you’ve been doing, it could be nice for you to loosen up for a bit” he said carefully

“But I have so much-” before you get to even finish your sentence he says “Great, I’m on my way to pick you up right now, be ready in 15, love you”

With that he hung up the phone

You groan and lay down on the couch, Hoseok and you have been friends since you two were in elementary, you were getting bullied by another bigger boy when he stepped in and protected you, since then he’s been by your side at all times, you two were stuck at the hip together

It’s been ten minutes and finally you’re done getting ready

You get a call on your phone, Hobi is here telling you to come meet him at the car in front of the building

As you head over you notice there’s other people in the car

You sit in the front seat as Hobi welcomes you and introduces you to the two in three people in the back

“Y/n these are my other friends from university, please introduce yourselves”

“Hi I’m Jimin, nice to meet you” this cute guy said with an angelic smile, you shook his hand and said hi

“I’m Namjoon, pleasure to meet you after all the things I’ve heard from Hobi” This guy was tall and really cute as well

The third guy was just staring at you, looking as if he was shocked, so you stuck your hand out and said your name first

“Hi, I’m y/n pleasure to meet you”

He soon snapped out of it and turned a tinge of pink

“Oh sorry, I was just thinking, I’m Jungkook”

He flashed you the most amazing smile you’ve ever seen, he was definitely a charmer and you couldn’t help but feel comfort from him, as soon as your hands touched you felt the electricity and almost pulled you hand back

You all soon made it back to someone’s home and meet the rest of Hobi’s friends, there was Jin, Yoongi, and Taeyung.

You all had a game night and laughed about all the stupid things that were going on between them, they were all so filled with positivity and for once you were actually glad you took this night out

Soon after Jin made you all food and all of you were sat around the living room with full tummies

“Thank you Jin, the food was amazing, haven’t had such good food in a while” You said smiling

“Um so you’re saying I can’t cook?” Hobi said looking super offended

“That’s right, there’s no denying that” Everyone laughed at that and they got to know a little more about you

“So y/n, what do you study?” Namjoon asked

“I major in bio-chem, it’s a huge passion of mine” you said looking at my hands

“Don’t you study the same Jungkook?” Hobi asked

You looked up at him and he nodded back finally looking at you, you two have barely spoken since the car ride, only speaking to one another when needed

“We have the same chem class then right? It’s the only one available for this semester” you said carefully

“The one at 5 p.m on tuesdays and thursdays right?” He said asking you know

You nodded questioning why you’ve never seen him and probably figured it’s because you don’t really pay attention to the people but rather the class itself

Soon after you had passed out on the couch and woke up back home in your own bed with someone covering the blanket over you

“Hobi?” you said groggy

“Go back to sleep y/n you passed out at Jin’s house so I brought you back” He said kissing your head

Soon after the following week Jungkook had finally spotted you in the class you two share and started to sit next to you, you both even worked together on a project and were really getting close

A couple of months had passed at this point and Jungkook took you to this Café that was open 24/7 near his house

He took you out on spontaneous places

Both of you were in a deep conversation

“So yeah that��s how I became friends with them, they truly are older brother to me, they’ve helped me through so much that I’ll never be able to repay them for it. They’re probably the only reason why I even made it through that last breakup” Jungkook had told you truthfully

You knew how bad his last relationship was and he told you how he didn’t trust anyone after that

You looked at Jungkook and stared at him, his features was nothing but perfect to you, his laugh was contagious, his smile made your day and within the last couple of months you had fallen head over heels for him

He did all types of sweet things for you, like coming over to watch a movie with you, coming over late at night if you were stressed or even just to bring you food

He was everything you wanted in a man

“Y/n take a picture, it lasts longer” He said chuckling

“Oh my, sorry, I wasn’t staring at you or anything” you said turning red feeling the heat going up to your cheeks

He offered to take you home but you declined

“It’s going to rain, you should get home too, I can manage” You said hugging him tightly

He hugged back and you felt him relax in your arms

“Fine, but only because it’ll make you go home faster”

With that you were both off

Jugnkook had gotten home just as it started pouring down super hard

He had texted you to make sure you had gotten home alright and with that he felt more relaxed

He went and laid on the couch watching t.v. just as Jimin sat next to him

“So when are you going to tell her?” He asked Jungkook

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/n. When are you going to tell her you like her?” He said so nonchalantly

Jungkook basically choked on the water he was drinking and spit it all over the table

“Come on, it’s so obvious, you haven't done any of the cute stuff with anyone since- well you know” He said rubbing the back of his neck

“I- well I don’t know, everything seems for foreign to me. I don’t even think she feels the same. Everything about her is just so perfect. Y/n, she’s so sweet, kind, beautiful, and her eyes oh my god” He said falling back onto the couch

“Go, go tell her now” Jimin said changing the channel

He knew, it was now or never, he had courage from Jimin and he knew he would lose that soon, so he grabbed the keys and ran to your house in the rain

You were in your pajamas watching leaning against a sleepy Hobi watching his favorite show when you heard the bell ring

“Who’s here at this hour?” He asked yawning

“Have no idea” You said getting up to see who it was

You saw it was jungkook and opened it up

“Jungkook, what-what are you doing here? You drenched, you’re going to catch a cold” You said shocked

“I needed to talk to you, let me finish. I have to do this now otherwise I know I’m gonna get cold feet and walk away just like I’ve always been doing”

He took a little pause and you felt your stomach drop

You nodded allowing him to go on

“Since I’ve gotten to know you, you've taken up a space in my life that has been empty, a void. You filled it like no other. All I ever think about anymore is you. Everytime I’m with you I get this feeling and just looking at you makes me want to just have you all to myself. I know you may not feel the same way but I can’t hold onto this forever, you mean everything to me, I love you y/n” He finally said looking straight into your eyes

You wouldn't believe anything he was saying, this was so unexpected

“I’ll be on my way-” He said after you failed to say anything but your body move don it’s own

You grabbed his face and kissed him, it didn’t take long for him to react, he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed back, the kiss was nothing like you’ve ever felt before. It was excitement mixed with desperation

Soon you both pulled back and he put his head on yours while holding your face

“I love you too Jungkook” You said smiling at him

He kissed you again and said “I’ve been longing for this”

You giggled and pulled him inside

“You’re going to catch a cold, come sleep here tonight, there’s no way I’m letting you back in the rain”

You saw Hobi was passed out on the couch and you tucked him in while going to borrow some clothes to give to Jungkook

That night he held you so close, you’ve never felt more safe.

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #bts jeongkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtan #jeongguk

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love-and-monsters · 5 years ago

Text

Rowan the Naga

Another part of the Pride month story group, this time with a WLW naga!

You had been spelunking since you were a little girl. Your parents met during an expedition into a cave and they’d never wanted to quit, not even when they had a kid of their own.

They didn’t take you most of the time, of course, but you remembered going on simple little trips even when you were young. By the time you were in your twenties, you were intimately familiar with caves and how they operated. You could go through them even in your sleep. So even when people started vanishing into one of the larger cave systems near your house, you didn’t really want to reschedule your planned trip there.

You geared up and headed down into the cave system. It was always peaceful down there, quiet. As soon as you descended, you felt your thoughts calm down. You were suffused with tranquility.

You touched down on the cave floor and flicked on your light. The tunnel you were in was flooded with a bluish glow. Right at the edge of the glow, right where the light faded into darkness, something moved.

Automatically, you jerked your head around. There was nothing there when you focused the central beam on the spot. No motion, just rocks sitting there on the ground. You frowned. Certainly, it was possible that the light and shadows played tricks on your eyes and brain. You’d seen weird, flickering things along the edges of your light before. But whatever that was that had moved at the edges of your light hadn’t looked like a shadow. It had looked like something alive.

It was a stupid idea to go after it. At least five people had gone missing in the cave within the last four months and you didn’t want to become one of them. But you had never been good at letting things go. You took a deep breath and pursued it.

The moving thing had been right next to a tunnel, so you entered it. It was a little tight and you had to follow the movement on hands and knees. Gradually, the further you got in, the tighter the tunnel got. When it got tight enough that you could feel the walls almost touching the top of your pack, you figured that it might be a better idea to just head back the way you came.

Quite suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. You almost fell as the ground dropped away from the tunnel. It took a few minutes of squirming around to get your feet back underneath you, but as soon as you were standing and able to take a look around, you realized that something was wrong.

Well, not wrong. Just sort of weird. The room, which feasibly shouldn’t have been a place a lot of people could access, had junk in it. Most of it seemed to be old furniture that had been fixed up in a series of haphazard ways. Blankets that seemed to be several smaller pieces of material were strewn all over the place. A few lamps, all off, were littered across the floor. Most startling of all, there was an enormous piece of snake skin pressed up against the back wall.

You approached the skin, fully aware that your mouth was hanging open. What. The fuck. Snakes weren’t this big. No reptile was. The skin was thicker than both of your legs pressed together, almost as big as your torso in the largest section. You poked at it hesitantly. It was hard to tell the color in the bluish light of your lamp, but it shimmered a little.

The movement, you remembered in a rush. The thing that had been moving, if this was its skin, it was way bigger and probably way nastier than anything you could deal with. You needed to leave.

You spun to leave and froze in horror. The entrance of the tunnel was blocked by something. Something big and moving and likely the very thing that had left the skin there. Your light fell across the creature and you got a good look at it.

It was big, though it was hard to tell exactly how big because it was so coiled in on itself. Its lower half was that of a snake, definitely the thing that had left the skin in the corner. You could see the color better on the actual body than on the skin. It was a sort of pale grayish-blue color, with scales that caught the light and shimmered. From the waist up, though, there was the torso of a human woman. She had dark skin, but there was a grayish undertone to it. Her hair was cut short, almost buzzed, and there was a scar running down one of her biceps. She was dressed in a toga-like dress that revealed her arms. You could see the hard lines of muscles under her skin. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes flashed a hard, irritated gold.

“What are you doing here?”

She sounded like a person who was trying to sound angry, but underneath that, you could hear a slight shiver. Her fingers reached out, grasping for a pipe that stuck out of the wall near her. Your stomach leapt into your throat. Was this what had happened to those other people? Had she killed them?

“I- I’m sorry!” you managed when you found your tongue again. “I didn’t try to find this place, I just stumbled into it! I’ll go, I promise, just don’t kill me-”

“Kill you?” The snake person blinked and her hand fell away from the pipe embedded in the wall. “Aren’t you here to kill me?”

You stared at her. “Do I look like I’m here to kill you?” you asked, gesturing to the bags on you and the flashlight in your hand. “I only came here to explore the cave system.”

She blinked at me. “Oh.” Her face twisted into an expression of confusion. “Then you aren’t a monster hunter?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” you said automatically before realizing how ludicrous that statement now was.

The snake woman raised an eyebrow. “You’re one of those, huh?”

“One of what?”

She shrugged. “One of the ones who don’t know about monsters. Most people don’t, but a lot of the ones who do don’t like us.” She hissed irritably. “Do you know how many shitheads I’ve had to drive away from my cave recently?”

Your heart started to creep up into your throat again. “You’ve been killing people?”

She threw her hands up, tail coiling and flexing. You froze. “No! I’m not an asshole! I don’t kill people. I’ve been driving them off. You know, trying to make things as inconvenient for them as possible, hiding out in the most inconvenient areas to get to, all that stuff. I’m trying to make it real hard for assholes to come after me.” She stuck out her tongue. It went out further than you thought it should have been able to, and it was oddly sinuous.

“Then what about the people who are going missing?” you asked. The snake woman tilted her head and lowered herself until she was on your level. Close up, you realized that she looked more human than you thought. And she was rather pretty. You swallowed hard.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know for sure. My best guess is that the monster hunters are taking anyone who sees anything weird.”

“Why would they do that?”

The snake woman considered that for a moment. “Do you have an ideas as to why monsters don’t let most humans know they exist?”

You shrugged. “Because humans would hunt the monsters down and kill them?”

The snake woman nodded. “That’s the reason I was always told. Too many humans who have good weapons and could very easily wipe us all out if they wanted.” Her lips curled slightly, but she continued regardless. “Do you know why monster hunters keep the fact that monsters are real a secret?”

“Because no one will believe them?” I suggested. The snake woman snorted.

“They hunt monsters. All they’d have to do is present a dragon skull or a mermaid’s tail and no one would be able to deny it. No. It’s because when no one but them hunts monsters, they’re the only ones who get the spoils. Dragon scales never burn. Mermaid lungs grant the ability to breathe underwater to any creature. If you’re the only one who knows that monsters are real, you don’t have to share and you don’t have to worry about any of the kinder humans fighting back against you. Any human who finds out needs to be gotten rid of before they get in your way.”

“So, all the humans who’ve gone missing have been killed by other humans?”

“Killed or maybe inducted. I’m not sure what the process for getting taken into a monster hunting family is. Naturally, I’ve never had the occasion to find out.” She gave you a sharp grin that seemed a little more like a snarl.

“Does that mean that I’m in danger now?” you asked.

The snake woman’s expression shifted, becoming gentler. “Not if you leave now and never tell anyone what you saw,” she said. “If they don’t know you’re here, they can’t hunt you, and if you never tell anyone, they’ll never suspect anything.” She coiled around you and started to nudge you toward the exit. “If you hurry, you’ll be able to get out of here before anyone comes your way/”

You dug your heels in, struggling to stop her from moving you. She was strong, though, and you barely made more of an impact than just slowing her down a little. “What about you?”

“They’ve been hunting me for ages. They’re not going to get me this time.” Your chest tightened as she said that. How awful. Was she going to spend her whole life being pursued by a bunch of maniacs?

“Is there anything you can do to stop them?” you asked as she shoved you even more surely toward the entrance.

“Nah. Not without killing them and that’s really not something I’m capable of,” she said. “The only thing I can do is hide away from other people.”

As she said that, you gritted your teeth and turned to face her. “I can help you.” She looked at you skeptically.

“What are you going to do to help me? You gonna kill them for me?” Her tone was dry, and she clearly didn’t expect you to respond in the affirmative. And yet, you couldn’t just do nothing. You thought for a moment, then lifted your gaze to meet hers. She shifted a little, peering down at you with an uncertain expression.

“I’m not going to kill anyone,” I said. “But I am going to help you. You can come to my house.”

She looked uncertain. “I’m going to what?”

“My house. You can hide there, I’ve got enough space for a roommate.”

For a long, long moment, she stared at you. “You would be willing to have me in your house?” she finally said. You nodded instantly. She glanced around the room, then sighed. “Okay. Give me a few moments.”

She slithered around the room, gathering a few items and shoving them into a black bag she had looped around her shoulders. As she was doing that, you considered the map of the cave you had with you. There was no way someone with no legs was going to make it up the rope you’d rappelled down on, but there was another tunnel that led up to the surface. It didn’t look too small or steep for either of you on the map, so it was your best bet to get out. As you folded up the map and put it away, the snake woman slithered up to you.

“We should get a move on,” she said. You nodded and started to lead her out of the tunnel.

“My name is Shelia, by the way,” you said as the two of you started walking. The snake woman nodded.

“Rowan,” she replied. You glanced at her in surprise. She barely seemed to notice.

“That’s an unusual name,” you said. She gave a quiet hissing noise that might have been laughter.

“Not for a naga. We name our children after natural objects. Not like humans, whose names mean nothing, as far as I can tell.”

“Our names mean things,” you said. “My name means heavenly.”

You could almost feel the surprise in her gaze as she turned to you. “Does it?” She looked you over and a small smile quirked her mouth. “It suits you.”

You could feel your cheeks getting warm, but before either of you could continue the conversation, Rowan drew up short. Tension stiffened her body and the tip of her tail flicked, coiling in on itself. “Do you hear that?” she asked in a voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Hear what?” As soon as the words were done leaving your mouth, you did hear it. It was a slow, muffled, sort of shuffling and thumping noise, echoing over itself. It sounded as if several people were moving slowly and cautiously as a group. And it was getting closer.

“They’re here.” Rowan retreated quite smoothly for someone who was a snake from the waist down. “They’re in front of the exit.”

You scrambled for the map, unfolding it in a flurry of movement. It rustled way too loudly. You thought you could hear the footsteps hesitate. Had they heard? No time to think about it, they were getting closer regardless. You scanned the map. “This way.” You turned and headed down a smaller tunnel off to the side. “It’s less direct and more cramped this way, but they might not find us here.”

Rowan moved with perfect silence and you occasionally had to look around to make sure she was still following you. She was always right behind you, though, crawling easily on her snaky belly.

The tunnel wound up and around and all over the place. It felt like you were spending just as much tie going left or right as you were heading forward. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like there was anything to be too concerned about. There was no one following you and the tunnel did seem to still be heading toward the entrance. Finally, it started to widen and you could see the light changing as you approached the cave entrance.

As soon as you exited the tunnel, you froze. Rowan bumped into you and hissed irritably. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s a guard,” you hissed back. Rowan poked her head over your shoulder and sucked in an anxious breath. Blocking the exit of the tunnel was a young man. He looked maybe to be in his early twenties and was fiddling with something like a large shotgun. You’d seen guns before, but you’d never been so acutely aware of the fact that they could kill you easily until that exact moment.

“Is there anywhere else we can go?” Rowan asked. Her breath rushed against the back of your neck. You shivered.

“No. Going back means we probably run into those hunters, and there’s no other way out without climbing.” Rowan took in a deep breath. Her hand squeezed your shoulder.

“If this is the only way out, then there’s only one thing to do.” She cracked her knuckles. “Stay here.”

She heaved herself up and slunk around you. “Where are you going?” you hissed. “Wait, Rowan-”

“Stay put,” she repeated. “I don’t want you getting messed up in this, all right?”

Rowan was out of the tunnel before you could even react and was on the man with surprising speed. He didn’t even have a chance to scream before she was coiling around him, pinning him under her heavy coils.

Her upper hand lasted about thirty seconds. There was a cracking noise, like a whip, then the crackling sound and sensation of static electricity in the air. Rowan screamed, spasming wildly. Her coils loosened and the man wormed his way free. Within seconds, he was standing over the still-convulsing form of Rowan. He lifted the gun and pointed it at her head.

You moved before you thought. You plowed into the man, knocking him back against the wall. A shot fired right next to your head. You could feel the recoil and the impact of the shot against the ground behind you.

Before the man could aim again, Rowan was on top of him. You saw her fangs sink into his shoulder. You did not see what happened next.

You both ran. Or, rather, you ran. Rowan slithered behind you, lightning fast. Finally, when you were a safe distance from the cave, you collapsed.

“I told you to stay put,” Rowan panted. “You could have gotten killed.”

“If I hadn’t interfered, you would have died,” you said. Rowan looked at you for a moment, then sighed.

“That’s a good point.” She reached out and took ahold of your hand. “Thank you. You could have been injured, but you saved me regardless. It’s not often that I see that sort of thing.”

You started to speak, but your words died as her lips touched yours. It was a quick kiss, one that was over only a moment after it started. She smiled as she pulled away. “I look forward to our new lives together.”

“Me too,” you whispered. It was the truest words you’d ever spoken.

#exophilia #naga #monster girlfriend #monsterxhuman #monster lover

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gofordrakgo · 5 years ago

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Dwelling Chapter Three

“ ‘No! No way!’ When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest. ‘Ow!’ He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter. ‘That hurt!’ ”

Dwelling Summary

Dwelling Chapter One

Dwelling Chapter Two

Dwelling Chapter Four

On any given night Shea lay in bed for hours before falling asleep. Somehow she fell asleep before her head even touched the pillow in the spare bed in Lipsky’s apartment. She dreamt of swirling colors: green, black, blue mingled with odd flashes of orange, but by the time she woke up the next morning she remembered none of it.

She woke to the sound of creaky cabinets opening and closing, and pots and pans clinking together. A slim beam of sunlight shone through the cracks in the blinds. She lay in bed waiting for a sense of panic to settle in, for her brain to start wondering where she was or why she wasn’t inside Go Tower. It never happened. She felt warm, in a cozy sort of way, and the noise from the kitchen seemed familiar and comforting.

Never one to just lie in bed for hours after waking up, not that she’d had much choice in the matter, Shea stood, pulled her grimy jeans back on, and slipped out into the kitchen.

Drew seemed not to hear her and she watched him in silence, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t combed his hair yet and it stuck up in odd places, loose curls forming at the nape of his neck. The way he moved reminded her of someone waiting to start dancing, despite the lack of music. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reached for a spatula with a snappy movement of his wrist, drumming his fingers on the counter as he did.

He wore dark jeans that hung loosely off his waist, secured by navy blue suspenders with white polka dots. In contrast, the white button-up shirt he wore was clearly too small on him, she could see every muscle in his shoulders and back flexing as he moved around. Shea blinked at him a few times. He both looked cuter, and far geekier than the previous night.

Without a word Shea walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, popping up to sit on the counter again. Drew yelped and jumped away from her, throwing his arms up to cover his head.

“Sh-ngh- don’t do that,” he shouted at her. Breathing heavily, he dropped his arms back to his sides still staring at her.

She blinked at him, a little startled by his initial scream, but otherwise unfazed. “Jeez. Sor-ry, scaredy-cat.” His hair looked even more sticky-uppy in the front.

“Oh, yes. You seem so apologetic.” He rolled his eyes and stomped back to his place in front of the stove. Scrambled eggs were cooking in one pan, bacon in the other. It looked delicious and her mouth started watering as she watched him cook.

Shea shrugged. “At least I said sorry. It’s not my fault you got scared.”

He turned his head to glare at her, taking the eggs off the stove. He shoveled them onto two separate plates, on the counter opposite her. He switched the spatula out for a set of tongs, checked the bacon and then placed two pieces on both plates.

He leaned against the other counter, watching her, and lifted up one of the plates. She held a hand out, expecting him to pass the plate to her. Instead, he shook his head and took a bite of the eggs.

“No way. You still have to answer two questions if you want a meal,” he said, after swallowing. A vague hint of a smirk took over his face.

“Well then what’d you bother making two plates for?” she snapped. His smirk pissed her off, despite the fact that they had agreed on two questions for a meal just a few hours before. “I’m done answering questions.”

“Then I’m not going to ask any,” he said. He plucked a piece of bacon off what should have been her plate and bit into it.

“Hey!” Shea protested. She felt the heat, both from him pissing her off and from her own embarrassment start coursing through her veins. She had to make a very real effort to calm down before plasma started to shoot out of her hands. She hid her hands behind her back in fists, as her fingertips burst into green flame. “Ugh,” she finally muttered, giving up as the fire died. “Fine.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Pick a different question.”

“Fine. Why don’t you want me to know your last name?”

“Not answering that either.”

Drew pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand. “You must not be very hungry.”

“Just ask something else, okay? I’m not answering questions like that!”

“Fine! When you decided to run away, where did you plan on going?”

“I didn’t. Mostly I just went to all the addresses listed in roommate wanted ads, but none of them worked out.”

“Okay. Um. Oh! How old are you, actually?”

“Sixteen. Gimme.” She held her hand out again, and this time he picked her plate up and passed it over. He’d swapped one of his pieces of bacon with the one from her plate that he’d bitten, leaving her two full pieces. She took a huge bite of the eggs, pleasantly surprised to find that they were even more delicious than they looked. “How old are you?” Shea asked around a mouthful of food.

“Twenty-one. Are you planning on returning home anytime soon?”

“I already answered your two questions.”

“Well, you’ve also already got another night to stay here, so I figure two more and you could have lunch too.”

“Don’t you have a job or- or school or something?”

“It’s Saturday. No class. And I do have a job, but it’s on-campus so I also don’t work on weekends.”

“What kind of job?”

“I’m a TA.”

“A what?”

“Teachers assistant. I give exams, help grade essays and tutor students who need extra help. Are you planning on going home? Ever?

“Cool. And… no.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m still not answering that.”

“Aw c’mon, please!” His lower lip jutted out as his eyes went wide with a false sort of innocence.

“No! No way!” When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest.

“Ow!” He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter. “That hurt!”

“Yeah, kinda the point. The puppy dog look doesn’t suit you.”

“Hmph. Says you.”

“Why do you care so much about why I left, anyway?”

“I don’t care, I’m just a naturally curious individual.”

Shea scoffed. “Yeah right.”

Drew’s face flushed bright red, and he dumped his empty plate into the sink. “I’ve got tests to grade, anyway,” he mumbled and walked back into his room.

Shea stared after him. Sitting alone in the kitchen during the day seemed much more strange than it had in the middle of the night. It no longer reminded her of her childhood home. It was much too quiet for that now that the sun was up. There had always been so much noise: Dad’s tools buzzing away in the garage, Mom practicing her lesson plans before class, Fearless Ferret playing on the TV, Merrick making a fool out of himself with whatever new plot to get attention he’d come up with, Wendell and Westley’s baby babble and toddling footsteps. It drove her crazy back then. She’d give just about anything to get it back now.

The Go Tower dwarfed their old home, and though sound constantly echoed down the cavernous hallways, it wasn’t the same. Instead of babble between Wendell and Westley, she heard more and more voices emanating from their training room as they pushed the limits of how many clones of themselves they could make, testing themselves to the point of exhaustion. Instead of Merrick poorly performing magic tricks at the breakfast table, she heard him laugh after scaring the staff by shrinking down and returning to normal before they spotted him. Instead of Fearless Ferret, she heard weights clinking together as Heath pushed himself to become stronger and stronger. Instead of lesson plans, she heard her mother writing out training schedules. Instead of buzzing tools, she heard her father on the phone with government agencies seeking the help of Team Go making deals and discussing payment.

Though having her own bedroom started out nice, it grew lonely fast. The space was far too large for just one person. Like each of her brothers, except for the twins who insisted upon sharing everything since even their powers were identical, her bedroom in Go Tower was closer to being its own house, particularly because it consisted of several rooms. She had her own bathroom, bigger than both bathrooms in their old home combined. She had an entire gym in one room that held a treadmill, weights, punching bags, yoga mats, and various other general exercise equipment, almost all of which she was expected to use every day. Attached to the gym was her power-focused training room which held large cement blocks for her to explode with plasmablasts, a wall made of cement, painted with targets for her to practice her aim, scraps of metal for her to practice temperature control and, of course, a number of fire extinguishers. She also had a study area, with state of the art home-school textbooks on every subject imaginable, a large TV screen with video connection to various tutors around the world, and a little robot that was meant to quiz her, but it often malfunctioned and repeated the same question over and over, no matter the subject she chose. The actual bedroom itself held a king-size bed that made her feel the way she though drowning might feel.

Actually, when she thought about it, her bedroom reminded her of Drew’s whole apartment. She also had a sofa and loveseat, though they were green, that faced a television screen, though hers was far nicer and was surrounded by what must be every horror movie ever made. She had a large table in one corner, that mostly consisted of drawings of different battle plans. The only things she really liked about her room, were the bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. The whole room looked like a library. She even had a reading nook and fireplace. Really, the whole thing was absurd. Her closet was bigger than Drew’s guest room, despite the fact that she alternated between her uniform and gym clothes most days of the week.

Unable to handle sitting still doing nothing after so many years of nonstop movement except for sleeping, Shea leaped off the counter. Part of her wanted to go knock on Drew’s door, but she didn’t know what she’d say to him. Plus, she didn’t want to look desperate for his attention. After all, she was only meant to be there for one more night and for all she knew he was planning on calling the police about finding a runaway.

She dumped her plate into the sink next to his and wandered off to find the bathroom. It wasn’t particularly hard to find, given that there were only two doors she hadn’t seen opened. She opened the first to find the linen closet Drew had mentioned the night before, so it came as no surprise that the second led to the actual bathroom.

The bright red shower curtain stuck to the side of the bathtub, but it didn’t look at all grimy. Shea peeled it back and saw that the bottom of the tub was lined with a clear adhesive, decorated with multi-colored robots, aliens and rocket ships. What a dork. And who used blueberry-ash shampoo? Curious, she picked up the bottle and opened the top. It did smell kind of fruity with a weird fiery after smell. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not. His body wash, some sort of off-brand thing, she did like. It’s label simply read ‘Body Wash For Men’ and it smelled kind of like water, but it had a sort of a woodsy undertone that made her think of leaves changing color in the fall—something she’d rarely seen since her parents purchased Go City.

As she moved to turn the water on, she realized she probably should ask before just using his shower, especially since she’d need to use his shampoo and body wash. She decided that bothering him because she was bored was entirely different from bothering him because she needed something, and after standing outside his door for an awkwardly long time, she knocked.

The door swung open a moment later. “What?” Peering around the corner she could see him hunched over a desk tucked nearly into the corner of the room; he must have reached behind him to open the door. He’d flattened his hair, but only a little. He didn’t turn to look at her.

“Can- um- can I use your shower?”

Drew’s pen finally stopped moving on the paper as he uttered a quiet, “oh.” He turned around and blinked at her before properly answering. “Right, yes. Of course. Um. Here.” He stood up and shuffled past her out into the hallway. She stood behind him, feeling more and more like the little kid he claimed she was, waiting as he opened up the linen closet. He passed her a faded blue towel, that smelled of the same lavender laundry detergent as the sheets on her bed. “I- do you want a clean shirt? I probably have something I could give you.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be… nice, I guess.” She liked annoying him more. Being polite felt awkward.

“I’ll leave something by the door, then?”

“Okay,” she said, forcing a shrug. “Thanks.” She hurried into the bathroom.

The shower felt like absolute bliss. The water ran lukewarm at best, the pressure varied between barely dripping and hard enough to hurt, and she still couldn’t decide if she liked the way the shampoo smelled. But it felt so nice to feel clean that she hardly noticed all of that.

The mirror hadn’t even steamed up by the time she got out. She realized as she looked in the mirror that she’d been an absolute disaster before. She still looked like a mess and a half. She hadn't even realized that there were yellow-blue bruises lining her chin, presumably from her most recent fight. Briefly, she wondered if the real reason Drew wanted to know who she was so bad was because he thought she was being abused. There were other bruises, on her shoulders and her thighs that she had actually known were there.

The one on her left shoulder, a nasty looking thing, came from being thrown clear across a giant room and slamming into the wall. At first, she’d genuinely believed her shoulder had been dislocated. Most of the ones on her thighs came from a guy who called himself ‘The Hunter’. He shot her with a number of darts while she’d been dealing with another villain. Hego lectured her the entire time they were in the Go-Car for going too hard on him once she caught him. He didn’t care at all that his goal had been to kill her, or that the only reason she was still alive was because her plasma burned up the poison.

Annoyed, Shea tried combing through her hair with her fingers. It didn’t work very well, and upon not finding a brush anywhere in the bathroom she debated between chopping it all off and just sucking it up and asking if he had a comb. For the moment she just gave up. She wrapped the towel tight around herself and listened at the door for a long moment, trying to make sure she couldn’t hear him outside. When she felt sure, she opened the door a crack and snatched up the clothes he’d left on the floor.

He’d brought her a shirt, as he said he would, but surprisingly he’d also brought a pair of gym shorts. She felt gross putting on the same underwear she’d been wearing, even after turning them inside out, but she did what she had to. She really should have thought this whole running away thing through more, she told herself, she didn’t even have money to actually get clean underwear. Still, sliding into otherwise clean clothes felt nice in a way she wasn’t used to.

The gym shorts were a little loose and hung at an awkward height, but ultimately they stayed up well enough after she tied the strings as tight as possible. The t-shirt actually fit quite nicely, if a little long. She suspected that he’d given her a Mighty Martian shirt, just to spite her.

When she left the bathroom he had moved out onto the couch, red-marked papers scattered around him on the cushions and coffee table.

He spoke without even turning to look at her. “I’m sorry if they don’t fit quite right. It’s all I had on hand.”

“Fits fine,” she said and sat down on the spare chair. “You’ve got pen all over your arms you know. And on your face.”

He acknowledged her with a grunt, one of his shoulders moving up in half a shrug.

“What are you grading anyway?”

“Chemistry exams.”

“Didn’t classes just start like a week ago? Why are they taking exams already?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his temples. Was she annoying him that much? “These are finals from the summer course.”

“Oh.”

After a minute of restless fidgeting, Shea grabbed one of the exams that had already been graded and looked it over. She understood exactly none of it. Aside from not knowing anything about chemistry the guy had terrible handwriting, although he seemed to have gotten himself a decent enough grade.

“You spelled ‘calorimetry’ wrong,” she pointed out, reading through the notes he had scrawled throughout the paper.

“How would you know?”

“Because the question on the front spelled it differently from how you spelled it. You spelled it like ‘cal-om-ir-etry’.”

Drew snatched the paper from her hands, holding it practically up to his nose as he searched for his mistake. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he moaned, as he saw she was right. He slammed the test down on the coffee table and hunched over it, roughly scratching the word out. She heard him spelling the word under his breath like a chant, though he didn’t touch the pen to the paper.

“You just mixed up the letters, it really isn’t that big a deal.”

“Nygh- yes it is,” he snapped at her, throwing the pen to the coffee table and burying his face in his hands, which pushed his glasses up awkwardly into his hair.

She really hoped he wouldn’t start crying again, she didn’t know how to deal with that. Acting on some semblance of instinct she snatched the paper back, picked up his discarded pen and wrote the word properly underneath where he’d scratched it out.

“There. Problem solved.” She pushed the paper back towards him and suppressed the temptation to throw the pen at his head. He pulled his hands away from his face and yanked his glasses back down to look at the paper.

He seemed to read her writing multiple times before confirming that she had actually spelled it correctly. He opened and shut his mouth several times and Shea couldn’t decide if he looked grateful or annoyed.

“Thanks,” he finally grunted, his voice softer than she’d heard it. When they made eye contact his entire face flushed and he quickly looked back down.

“You know, you could’ve easily done that yourself. So what’s the deal?”

He shook his head slowly and didn’t answer.

Shea crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not gonna quit bugging you until you tell me what your deal is.”

“You’re not going to quit bugging me anyway,” he pointed out. “And it’s none of your business, alright?”

“Nah. I wanna know.”

“What’s your last name?”

Any amusement she felt vanished instantly. “Okay, fine. Just shut up about that.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You know, your shampoo smells really weird.”

“You know, I really don’t care what you think about it. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fancy shampoo back home.” He glared at her, but even as he said he started to look like he felt bad about it.

“I’d rather weird-smelling shampoo to going back there,” she muttered, and this time it was her turn to look away when he looked at her. She shifted her hands behind her back. It had been too long since she’d burned off enough of the plasma energy, and she could feel how even the slightest hint of distress or annoyance was pushing her closer and closer to a full-on fire forming in her hands.

She shot off the chair and stomped back into the room. She remembered not to lock the door just as she began to do so. Instead, she pressed her back to the door, held her hands out in front of her and finally let them light up. The whole room glowed green around her, brighter than she’d seen since the comet hit.

When she was twelve she had tried to burn up all of the plasma in her body, thinking maybe if she could her parents would go back to treating her like Shea instead of like Shego. She’d let her hands burn and burn, until, eventually, she began throwing up, became blindingly dizzy and passed out on the cold hard floor of her training room. The worst part was that when she finally woke up she was still completely alone in her training room. She’d never tried it again. For days afterward using her powers at all brought her close to tears, the skin around her hands had burned and blistered so horribly. Around about a month later the burns turned back in callouses, and she’d never tried again.

Burning her hands in the spare bedroom felt a lot like that. Part of her wanted to just burn and burn until she absolutely couldn’t anymore. She hated feeling all these emotions again. For the last four years, she had mostly just forced herself to forget that she had ever had a life outside of ‘Shego’. She trained, and fought, and studied and felt nothing.

And this, this… geek kept making her feel… He just kept making her feel. She felt guilty when he seemed upset, he actually made her laugh, made her feel protected, he annoyed her in a way that she also found endearing, and… She didn’t even know. He made her feel so many different ways, sometimes all at once. She no longer knew whether she liked that better than feeling constantly apathetic.

When her veins finally began to run cold, she stopped and collapsed to her knees with her head buried in her hands. She wanted to feel normal again and none of this helped. No matter what she did she wasn’t going to get Hego to be Heath again or get Mego to go back to being Merrick. Wego might never realize they were two people; that their names had once been Wendell and Westley. Mom and Dad were never going to be Mom and Dad again. Were they even looking for her as Shea? As their daughter? Or were they looking for Shego?

She hated all of this so much. She hated it. She didn’t know the guy sitting behind the door, and she hated that he was the first person she’d felt anything other than dutiful apathy towards. She hated him for trying to get her to open up more and then hated herself for hating him. She hated that the clothes she wore belonged to a stranger, and she hated feeling like they could never be friends because she could never tell him the truth about who she was.

Suddenly she found herself standing up. She pushed open the door, and practically marched over to Drew.

#drakgo #drakken #drew lipsky #shego #shea go #drakken x shego #shego x drakken #drakken and shego #drakken and shego origin story #team go #drakgo fanfiction #kim possible #kp #Dwelling #chapter three #gofordrakgo #14 pages #4016 words

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annerbhp · 6 years ago

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Is the size of the Parlor in the Changeling (at least in Ginny's fifth year) about what it would be at any given period, or would it's size change based on the number of potential sisters? And as someone not super familiar with harry potter beyond the movies, how big is the population of Slytherin and Hogwarts in general supposed to be (or at least how big do you imagine it in the Changeling/Armistice)?

Well, I would say that The Parlor is not something with a quota to fill or anything. There aren’t a set number of spots to be filled, or a limit as to how many. One of my favorite things to think about in the magical world is that nothing is inert. Even the castle itself is a living being of sorts, something that adapts and changes to the needs of the students living there. Like, imagine all the magic and emotions and experiments all concentrated in that one space for millennia. The castle lives and breathes and adapts, and The Parlor space is no exception. If there were more girls who needed it, it would get bigger. If there was a smaller group of girls for a few years, it would become intimate and perfect for their needs. And since in the fic we saw both the Room of Requirement and The Parlor adapt to Ginny’s needs when she was in hiding her sixth year, allowing her direct access, I think it wouldn’t be completely beyond imagining that if there was a girl in another house that desperately needed it, that maybe other passages would open. Though, in my head, I probably think of the Sorting differently than most. I wonder sometimes if the Sorting is about predicting what the students might need, the possible paths forward for them, rather than an announcement of who they already are fully formed. It’s about who they could be. It’s about what the Sorting might make of them. (But also who they want to be, even if it’s bad for them. Freewill after all.)

As for the overall population of students, I think we are meant to believe that there are ten students in each house, so forty students in each grade, so 280 students. Though, honestly, the idea that there will be twenty boys and twenty girls exactly each year either means there is a larger population of wizarding children and only a specific quota of students get in (which, honestly, when Hagrid says in the first book that Harry’s name has been down for Hogwarts since he was born is a weird statement. If it’s open access, wouldn’t all kids’ names be down for Hogwarts who are magical?). Alternatively, there were five Gryffindor boys and five Gryffindor girls Harry’s year and we all just extrapolated that it must hold true for all other years/houses. Maybe it’s more variable than it appeared.

As for the Changeling verse, I went with the second interpretation (although the first makes more sense to me now, that there is limited admission at Hogwarts, and it allows us to imagine a larger world). Mostly because if Ginny went into Slytherin, are there only four Gryffindor girls her year? Or did she swap with someone? Also, I only gave Ginny three roommates (Bridget, Helena, and Smita). Laziness at that time, probably, but also me side-eyeing the Exactly Forty Magical Children Are Born Each Year In England (And Exactly Half and Half Boys and Girls)!!!

#the changeling #the parlor #hogwarts sorting #hogwarts #hogwarts student population

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spookytomatoetuesday · 4 years ago

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Project Wolf´s Cove

Two – Night Fall

Stars sparkled on the sky above the small bay with its gravel beach. The tiny lights were framed nicely by the rough cliffs on two sides of the beach. It was just dark enough to see the stars. And it was just still warm enough to enjoy the view from the beach. Out on the seas, the tiny lights of the stars reflected on the darker water. All around the bay, the high dark cliffs that were so characteristic for this place, towered. There was a smell of seaweed in the air that was maybe a bit too strong. Becky and Rose lay on their towels, waiting to dry and even more intently to see the asteroid. They had brought flashlights for the way back to the car later and an opened bag of chips sat between them. “When you close your eyes and dream… no, when you draw and dream, do you see this place? Or do you picture every place but here?”, Becky asked while she kept glancing at the stars. “This is the place my parents picked. I find it small, constricting. It is even too small to help my sister. So no, I see a wider world when I think about dreaming.”, Rose replied. She was facing the sky above as well. “Fair.”, Becky commented. “Also, the town here is full of all these people already slotted into tiny boxes. What is more, they put everybody else also in boxes. Like the way old Curtis and Mr. W. look when I walk past. They know me – and are not bothered by truth. That makes it feel even smaller, or what do you think?” Rose took a deep breath, before adding: “I have never felt so lonely like I have felt in the company of people. Certain people.” Becky scoffed in an almost conspiratorial agreement and then answered: “Yes, there are a lot of small boxes here and people limiting themselves, lock themselves – and others – in. They make you the alien and blame you for the strangeness they see in you.” She sighed. “Still, there are also good and interesting people here. They give this place a soul. So I think I can only love this place because of that.” “Well, maybe it is easier to like it here if you are not like me. You got a choice at least.”, Rose remarked. “That is probably true. Sorry.”, Becky agreed thoughtful and then stopped talking altogether. Rose tried to look at her in the dark, but could just barely see Becky´s head continuing to face the sky. After a moment, Rose cleared her throat, determined to say something again. “But maybe that is still and nevertheless your superpower. I cannot. I am just afraid the world out there provides just more space for small boxes.”, Rose said. Becky reacted relieved that the conversation went on. And she seemed willing to return Rose´s favour: “Well you can at least go there and find it out. Maybe it is better than expected.” “But what if not?”, Rose wondered. “Then you tried at least. Besides, you can be sad about that and pure this sadness into brooding comics once you saw it. No need to be beaten down about that already now.”, Becky proposed.

John stood by the window and tried to re-orient the small telescope towards the night sky. Behind him, Neil lay on his brother´s neatly made bed, reading one of his brother´s old and not so neat magazines. “Did not know your brother had a telescope.”, John remarked. “Wonder why he did not take it with him.” “Hm.”, Neil gave back. “Maybe not enough space. He mentioned his dorm room is quite small. Or there are not enough windows to spy in nearby.” John sized up the telescope suspiciously. “Really?” “I would not know or insinuate.”, was all Neil said. He then proceeded to study the magazine. “I think I get the point of this.” He gesticulated towards the open page. “However… what is your endgame here? Like, what is this good for in the end?” “Not sure there is an endgame.”, John murmured and resumed his work with the telescope. “This would be easier with a manual.” “Haha, it sure would.”, said Neil, turning another page. “It would indeed.” He changed his mind, dropped the magazine, and looked at John. “So, will we be able to see the comet?” “Asteroid.”, corrected John. He looked through the telescope. “I thought it would show up in this part of the sky. If I understood Becky and Rose correctly that is. Hm…” Neil stood up from the bed, turned off the bedside light, and walked over to the window. There he peered through the glass, taking in the night sky. “Talking about siblings.”, John said, still one eye pressed to the eyepiece. “My sister told me to greet you.” “Oh, that´s nice. Thanks. Did you talk to her recently?” Neil wandered the room a bit. “Yesterday.”, John explained, “After I was able to take the phone out of grandma´s hands. Rhonda likes the university. She mentioned some roommates, but I have no idea if this was the first time or if I should know their names by now.” “Well, glad that she likes it. Return the greetings, will you?” “Sure. There is still nothing to see by the way. Maybe it is not yet time.” Now John withdrew his head from the telescope and looked at the sky with the naked eye. Then he went back to the eyepiece. “Did you ever fantasise about Rhonda and your brother being a couple?”, John asked into the room. Neil stopped in his tracks. “Fantasise?” “Maybe that word was not well chosen.” John looked at his friend and smiled an excuse. When he saw Neil´s unbroken consternation, he returned his attention to the telescope. “I just thought it would be… less work when they would end up together.”, John explained. “How so?” “Well… I already know your brother. There would be no need to get to know a new addition to the family.” “I see.” Neil sat now again on the edge of the bed. “But they go to schools in completely different parts of the country, right? I´m also unsure if they would be a good match.” “I did not really think that this was a realistic option.”, John defended himself. Then he froze. “There it is… I think.” Neil jumped up from the bed and hurried to the window. From the way the telescope was positioned, he attempted to figure out where he had to look. Then he saw it: a light wandering across the night sky. Then a smaller green light appeared as if broken off from the bigger one. The green one grew bigger and bigger very fast. It followed a steeper and yet very reasonable looking curve. That is, until it did not. It changed course mid-flight while it continued to get bigger – and it came for Wolf´s Cove. “Did there just…”, Neil started. “Yeah…”, answered John with a light tremble in his voice. In the dark, Becky fumbled for her watch. She realized her error and took the flashlight first. In the small circle of light that the device produced, she found the watch. The time had almost come. She informed Rose and both laid back again. Their eyes and minds focused on the sky. Then they saw it. “This should not be that green.”, Rose said and sounded clearly worried. “I mean, it also should not change course like it just did. But the color really makes me nervous.” They both pushed themselves up on their elbows as if to see closer and better what happened above their hometown. They saw the light that was the asteroid. And they forgot about it immediately when the saw the green round light descending on a clearly willed trajectory downward to Earth. There was no sound, no heat, just the eerie green glow of what soon became a green ball in the sky. “That cannot be good.”, Rose commented. “Now it seems to get slower, but still might crash into these houses over there.” By now, it became clearer that the sphere was heading for a quarter of detached houses on one high point on a cliff. “It gets slower – maybe something is landing over there.”, Becky muttered mostly to herself. “Seem still quite fast to me.”, Rose muttered back. “Maybe it will be a crash. Should we… should we really stay here?” She turned to her friend to see a reaction. Becky´s head was a dark but familiar form in front of the even darker background. But her wide open eyes were clearly visible for Rose. In these eyes, Rose saw now the reflection of the former comet becoming an asteroid and hitting a house. Quickly, Rose turned her head again toward the crash site. A green wave of light exploded from the house and looked like an expanding ball before losing itself in the night. Then the yellow lights of the house flickered and darkened. The two girls grabbed their flashlights and stood up. “We should check if somebody is hurt. It´s not far from here.”, Becky called out and ran up the little slope that led to where she had parked the car earlier. Rose was only a bit slower to follow. “Really?”, the asked. She did not get an answer but only saw the light of Becky´s flashlight tilting up and down, up and down, as she ran. With a small grunt, Rose followed. “That asteroid just hit the house over there.”, Neil exclaimed, his voice creaking. His gaze was still stuck to the two-story building in question. John stepped back from the telescope but then looked around. There was no explosion or shock wave. They had only seen a light ball. “Weird.”, John commented. “I thought we’d have burned up in a giant fire ball by now if an asteroid would hit Wolf´s Cove.” “Shit, that’s true.” Neil started now to scan the surroundings as well. Seemingly nothing had changed. All the wooden houses with their front and backyards still stood unmoved on the edges of cliffs and at the many small winding roads of the town. “Or do you think that’s yet to come?” John shook his head. “No, I think this is not how that kind of thing works. Should we go out to see if we can smell or hear something?” “You do that, I check again what I can see with the telescope.”, Neil suggested. He stepped towards the instrument, while John left the room. A moment later, Neil could see his friend standing on the front lawn. As nothing happened with John, Neil directed his attention towards the telescope and then towards the house that had been hit by the glowing asteroid. The house in question was some distance away but close enough that Neil could see it through the telescope as if it were as doll house. The lights were out and so there were just shadows to see. But then there was a movement visible through the windows. Or was there? Neil winked and then tried to focus again. Then there was a small burst of light, like from a car passing the house. And that called from a new shadow. This was clearly not part of the house. There were no edges, no straight angles. There was the round quality of flesh. And there were limbs, more than humans should have even if they stick all arms and legs up towards the ceiling. And there was the curve of a claw or talon, duplicated over and over along the limbs. Then the flash of light passed and the house was shrouded in darkness again. Neil was still transfixed by the view and dared not to wink again. But there was nothing anymore to see. Slowly, Neil backed away from the telescope. In the corner of an eye he saw John retreating from the lawn. Soon John´s steps could be heard coming up the stairs again. He re-entered the room. “It feels strange outside. Quiet and normal on the surface level – but also as if something was wrong with the air. As if something had shifted. It is hard to describe and I have no idea what it means.”, John reported. Neil just nodded, his eyes wandering unsteady through the room. “What is wrong?”, John asked concerned when he saw the sate his friend was in. Neil swallowed, waved his head from side to side and then looked directly at John. “I think I saw something.”, Neil said in a low voice as if not to disturb a graveyard. “Something strong, something violent, something powerful. I feel like the mouse that just saw its first cat.” John´s eyes widened. He quickly went to the telescope but by now there was nothing to see. Looking up, John met again the shocked gaze of his friend. “Should we call someone?”, John asked and Neil nodded. For a moment, both stared at the telephone next to the bed. Neil went towards it, but then stopped and sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh boy, oh boy.”, he just stammered. Realizing that Neil would not be much help during a phone conversation, John went to the phone. He picked up the receiver, but then paused. He drew three deep breaths, shortly closed his eyes, and then opened them again to call 911. He felt how he started to sweat and how his empty left hand opened and closed in an attempt not to shake. Shortly, John deliberated with himself if he should just hang up again. But then a voice on the other end asked about his emergency. “I think there is a situation in a house on… I think it is Camil Drive. The upper end of it.”, John blurted as fast as he could into the receiver. “Situation? What kind of situation?” Again, John hesitated. He looked to Neil, but Neil seemed as clueless about what to say as John. “Oh…”, said John in an attempt to win some time. He waved his hand at Neil, snapped his fingers. Finally, Neil got himself together again – and shrugged. “Monster?”, Neil mouthed. “Bad bad monster?” But John hesitated again. There was a very long pause, infinite it seemed, until he talked again into the receiver. “Oh… well… Nothing, luckily. This was just a prank. Hehe…”, John stammered. “Prank prank.” He smashed down the receiver. “What the fuck?”, was all Neil could say. “How could I ever convince them that there is a monster – one that I cannot describe, mind you? And even if I could or if they would just send someone to check on a disturbance – do you think that person could handle what you saw?” Neil considered that for a moment, before he shook his head. “We could have send someone into a death trap…”, Neil stated in a low voice. Becky was already in the driver´s seat when Rose caught up and jumped into the passenger seat. Before Rose could even fasten her seatbelt, Becky stepped down hard on the gas pedal and the car leaped forward. Becky steered it focused and with a steady hand through the nightly streets. She also did continue to drive very fast. Rose clung meanwhile to the console and closed her eyes repeatedly. Luckily, there was not much traffic. At this hour on a Thursday, not many people where on the road. Ahead lay one of the few straight segments of Wolf´s Cove´s roads which lead Becky to accelerate even more. Rose resolved to press her eyelids together and to hope for the best. “Oh shit!”, Becky exclaimed and must have attempted a last-minute evasive manoeuvre. The car started to sway and finally break out. Tires screeched over the asphalt and Rose was pressed against the side door. Then Beck regained control but abruptly stopped the vehicle dead cold. Only now Rose dared to open her eyes. The car stood almost in a right angle to the street and only inches away from a street lamp. Rose petrified view wondered from the lamp pole to Becky. And Rose did her best to mix the terror expressed in it with accusation. “If I’d not nearly crashed us, I’d have hit two dogs.”, Becky explained. She was also visibly still shaken. “Well, nobody died just then. So we can put that down as a success, I guess.”, Rose said consolingly and petted Becky´s shoulder. “How unlucky could we be, though, to almost run over two dogs? And where are they?” Both, Rose and Becky looked around. “Guess they were scared too and ran off.”, Becky suggested. “Oh no, I think I see them over there.”, Rose exclaimed and pointed. “No, these are different dogs. And there are three of them. Or is this a cat?” Both as it turned out. Several dogs and cats hurried from one bush to another and then continued down the street. They were followed by even more cats and dogs, as well as racoons. Then the rats came. Lots and lots of rats. They passed the car like a wave without minding it. All these animals ignored the vehicle completely for they were clearly on the run. Something had scared them to death. After the rats, there was silence. “This does not look good.”, said Rose and peered along the street in the direction where all the animals had come from. “There must be something very frightening up there.”, Becky concluded. “Green glow, thing falls from the heavens and crashes in a two-story, all animals flee…”, listed Rose. “I think we should get the hell out of here. There is some monster-stuff going on.” Becky put her hands back on the steering wheel but then hesitated. “But that means there might still be someone in danger.”, Becky said. “To be honest, I am not sure if we could help them.”, Rose replied. “We should get somebody.” Betty nodded. “Let´s drive home and see if mom is home yet. Or if we can call someone.” She looked one last time up the road, but then set the car in motion towards her home. Neil walked in tiny circles in the middle of the room. It was almost more a spinning than a walking. “So what is the next step here?”, he wondered aloud. “We can’t call the police… again. But we are sure that there is some danger up on that cliff.” “We could always go mad with the realization that we might have seen how a dangerous being came to us from the depths of space.”, John suggested and attempted a smile. Neil stopped and stared at him. “Yeah. Shelve that for now and let´s talk to my parents.”, Neil suggested. So they ran downstairs to the living room, skipping the last steps of the stairs. In the living room, they found Neil´s parents on the couch and in front of the TV. They did, however, not pay much attention to the screen. As Neil and John entered, Neil´s mom practically jumped to the side and away from her husband. “Oh, you scared us just there.”, she exclaimed, blushing. “Something wrong?”, Neil´s dad said and at the same time tried to button his shirt back up both inconspicuously and fast. Both failed. “We might have just witnessed a… dangerous thing.”, Neil explained and stepped closer to his parents, while John hung back in the doorway. “What happened?”, asked Neil´s mom who was now very serious and did not any longer try to hide her red face. Neil told her what he had seen through the telescope and which conclusions he and John had made. “We should’ve taken away the damned telescope. You shouldn’t peek into people’s houses like that.”, said Neil´s dad and finally managed to button up his shirt properly. “We only looked, because we feared that somebody could have been hurt in a crash. And then I saw that it was way worse.”, Neil defended himself. “I think the telescope’s not the point.” Neil´s mom put a hand reassuringly on her husband´s thigh. “I see how affected you both are by what you saw or think you saw. Still, this is not very easy to simply accept.” As answer, Neil started pacing up and down in the living room in front of the TV. He also once more described what he had seen. John was willing to help and stressed the weird behaviour of the thing that had broken off of or started from the asteroid. There was a mind behind the claws. But there were claws as Neil had seen. “So… should we call the police then?”, Neil´s mother asked and proceeded to get up from the couch. Neil shook his head. “John tried this. But we cannot send someone who has no clue and would not believe us in that kind of danger.” “Maybe we should then at least try to call the sheriff directly and explain. He can then take the appropriate steps.”, Neil´s mom suggested. “If he beliefs us.”, Neil added. “Maybe you can do a Polidory Test.”, Neil´s dad said and chuckled. “You mean a polygraph test.”, Neil replied, communicating a lack of patience. “I know what I said.”, his dad sulked. Neil looked at John, John looked at Neil. Both conveyed the impression of uncertainty and indecisiveness. “Well. Let´s call someone.”, Neil finally said. Becky parked the car in front of her house just as her mother pulled up as well. Rose and Becky breathed a sigh of relieve as Becky killed the engine. They slipped their shirt back on, got out of the car and ran over to Becky´s mother. She got just out of her vehicle but was immediately alarmed by the worry on the faces of the two girls. “What happened? Something at the beach?” “Yes.”, Becky answered and would have expanded on that. Her mother, however, was faster. “Hm… I didn’t like your idea to watch the asteroid from there so late at night.” “Erin, this is not an issue with the usual creeps.”, Rose interjected. “In that regard, this night was quiet.” Now it was Becky´s mom´s turn to sigh in relief. “No.”, Becky explained. “But we saw something else. Well, saw it kind of second hand…” “But there might be a monster on the loose in town Erin!”, Rose just jumped in. “What?” Erin did seem to have a hard time believing this. So the girls explained what they had experienced. “That with the animals is unsettling…”, Erin admitted. She looked around, possible on the lookout for masses of panicking rats. “Let´s just continue this insight.” “Good idea, Erin. And let us make sure the doors and windows are locked once we are inside.”, Rose meant. The three settled in the kitchen under the old round lamp and the yellow light of the one bulb in it. Becky and Rose sat at the central rectangular counter, while Erin put on some water to boil. “So you have seen a crash. And seen evidence that there is danger – at least to animals.”, Erin summarized. “Yes. So, mom, who do we call now?”, Becky asked. “The police?”, her mom suggested. “Meh.”, Rose said. “What would they do? But I am not a big fan anyway. I remember the talk quite clearly.” Erin nodded and then poured hot water into three mugs with tea bags in them. She put one each in front of Becky and Rose, before she sat down herself with the remaining mug. “So, what do we do now – after we have checked again that all doors and windows are locked?”, Erin asked. “We do whatever is best to save the people here.”, Becky insisted. She hold on to her tea is if it was a life saver. It became more and more visible that adrenaline had driven here for the last hour or so. But now, in her home, tiredness started to catch up with her. Rose did not answer right away. She used the subsequent pause in the conversation to listen intently. There was no noise of chaos and monsters tearing the town apart coming from outside for the moment. There was not even the noise of hundreds of tiny rat paws. “Who else could we call to both assess the situation and action the necessary steps to… what you said Becky?”, Rose asked finally. “Hm…” Erin took a sip from her tea, then remembered the tea back and took it out to the trash can. “Maybe we can call Tula. She lives up there where you said the crash happened. Maybe she knows more about the situation. Also, her husband is Doctor Lancer – and she sometimes drinks with the mayor at the bar. So there would be a line to the center of power if needed.”, Erin suggested. “Great idea mom!”, Becky agreed, now enthusiastic and overcoming her earlier slump. “I like that the mayor is the center of power.”, Rose commented but had nothing to say against the suggestion. Erin nodded and went over to the kitchen phone. “So calling the sheriff directly was not the best idea.”, Neil´s mom commented after hanging up the phone. “Could be bad timing.”, Neil´s dad suggested. “I heard he has a fishing trip planned this week.” “That is helpful.”, Neil commented. “However, he said he will have his officers look into if there were more reports on disturbances reported. So far, he said, there was nothing out of the ordinary reported to him. Everything is nice and calm, he said.”, explained Neil´s mother. “So… there is nothing done at the moment?”, John asked. “Not at the moment. Not from us.”, Neil´s mom said. “Hm.”, Neil grunted. “Well, you have your school trip. So you are out of the game anyway.”, Neil´s father interjected. “That’s true.”, Neil conceded but John was not convinced. John mentioned that he should get back to his home and his grandma. “Will she take you two to the bus tomorrow?”, Neil´s mom asked. “Yes.”, John replied and started towards the front door. “I´ll walk you out.” Neil followed his friend. “Thanks Elisabeth and Dan.”, John called out on his way out. “So Tula asked me to say hello and greet you.”, Erin reported after ending the call. “But she has not seen anything. Just a green light. No monsters.” “Hm. Could we be wrong?”, Rose asked. “Hopefully.”, said Becky. “But I don´t know… That’s a scary If, if it doesn’t apply.” An uneasy silence followed. All three looked into their mugs, took a sip, but did not really feel the warmth of the tea and did not care for the taste. “This feels weird. We saw something, experienced something. There might be danger.”, Becky reiterated. “So we called somebody. It is not in our hands anymore.”, Rose weighted in. “Maybe the animals were only driven off by the light.”, Erin suggested. “Yeah.”, Rose agreed. “From the relative safety of this kitchen counter, all this seems more and more like a nightmare. Hopefully it is and all the danger and the doubts will be gone by tomorrow morning.” A few hours earlier, he returned the mustard to the fridge and took the freshly prepared sandwich from the countertop. In his usual way, he slowly moved through the house towards the front porch. He whistled loudly albeit not very melodic. There was no one in the bigger and bigger seeming house anymore to hear him. So it did not matter how well he could whistle. The bench creaked under him when he sat down. As often before, he contemplated buying a new one. Likewise as so often before, he let the thought go without following up on it. Instead he started to chew on his sandwich while staring ahead onto the bay below and the dark evening around. It took him a while to realize that one of the stars in the evening sky became bigger and bigger, turning into a projectile with direct curse toward his house. It took him even longer to consider a reaction to that. Too long in fact. Before he could fully appreciate what was happening, the big bright white light came closer and closer, turned green, seemed to just miss the roof of his house, and went down in his backyard. He put his plate next to him and refused to accept the situation for a moment. Only when he heard some unfamiliar noises, he got up and went back into his house. There he made a straight line through the living room and kitchen and went to the backyard. All he found in the back, however, was a circle of burned grass. Until he heard the noises again. He heard a scratching and a wheezing, maybe a dripping. By and by, the evening transformed into night. In the house, the lights were still on but they created now more shadows than aiding his eyesight. Then there were the noises again. He hesitated but saw no other way than to investigate in the end. Maybe he could call somebody – but whom? There was no reason to bother the sheriff, he thought. Maybe there was no one in town he was on such terms with that he could ask them to hunt ghost in his backyard. Making conversation and keeping friendships alive had never been his task. However, all this was not relevant anymore. He moved slowly and consciously, trying to look into every corner while he wandered through his backyard. It seemed he came closer and closer to the source of the noises. The snarling grew louder and sounded more aggressive. Maybe something was hiding in the shadow of the small garden shed that was kept in only the most needed state of repair. In this moment, he realized that it would have been a good idea to take a flashlight with him. He turned on his heels, ready to take the few steps back to the house, to cover the small ground of his backyard as he had done so often. But then he realized that this was a fatal idea. He had just turned the back to whatever made these more and more aggressive sounding noises. Maybe there was enough time to turn around again, to correct this mistake, to get another chance. There was not. It made him prowl the streets that night. It made him prowl and stalk, run and jump; it made him dance and squeal and growl. Later, it made him even scratch and claw, bite and tear. All that it made him do while there was nothing his he could even want. His will, he realized fast and with horror, was completely powerless and waning. For it was now a part of him as a stronger part. Or he was nothing more now than a smaller part of it. There was fear, the deep fear for its own survival. He had felt the same like a lightning striking. When it rushed him, eager to find a host, their fear was a bridge. But there was more hidden in him. When it tore away at his body to put it back together how it needed, it exposed a rage. A feeling of disappointment and of loss. New bridges and more than it or he could take. He was lost in that moment. So now all he could do was jump and prowl and howl. It was the first time in his life. The night came to an end, unescapably as usual. But the nightmare did not. He was still trapped when it brought him back to his empty house at the break of dawn. All dogs in the neighbourhood were quite, as if finally gone.

#horror #spooky #fiction

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