#makes me cry whenever he feeds/offers food to others like its so clear that its his love language kdjjsd

[milkbreadtoast]

Yeseo's love of food and his love language being food/feeding people... 🥹 I love how the webtoon artist pays attn to this detail, even showing him eating in the flashbacks... <3

[let-them-read-fics]

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

[venusofthehardsells]

Lead You Back to Me [one-shot]

Sam WinchesterxReader

Summary: In the aftermath of a witch hunt gone very wrong, you find yourself slipping deeper and deeper into grief, pushing everyone around you away, including Sam. What will it take for the two of you to find your way back to each other? Warnings: angst, loss of a child, grief and depression, self-hate all around, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, lactation A/N: This is sad and I swear I didn’t mean to, I just wanted Sam to hold me and tell me he loved me. Shit happens. Enjoy or cry or whatever, I’m just grateful you’re reading! Let me know what you think if you want ♥

The hunt had been a bad one.

You knew it to the core of your being the moment you saw Dean's name flash on your phone screen in the darkness of your room.

Dean's name. Not Sam's.

Sam always sent you a text to let you know he was coming home to you, even if you didn't text him back, even if he'd only been gone a few hours. He always let you know.

If Dean was calling you, then…

Your throat was already thick with choked down sobs when your shaking fingers finally fumbled the phone to your ear just before it went to voicemail.

"Hey Y/N," came Dean's gruff voice. "We're on our way back."

You sighed in relief, but it came out as more of a quiet whimper.

"Still in one piece, your man, so don't worry, yeah? We're about four hours out. Listen, uh…" You could hear him hesitate as he considered his next words. "I know what you're going through ain't easy." He stopped again and you did your best to try and keep calm; something you had a hard time doing these days. "But this case… it was ugly. Sam's in a really bad place and he needs you. So be there for him."

Dean wasn't good with words, but his tone left nothing unsaid.

Since that witch hunt almost two months ago, you had barely left your bed. The days blurred together into a mindless cycle of sleeping, vomiting, crying and staring blankly into the wall or the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take you back into its numbing embrace. Hoping to not wake up again.

Your heart was in pieces. Every time you tried to pick them up and put them back together, the jagged edges cut you right back open and the seemingly unending grief inside of you poured into view until you were sure you would drown in it.

Sam had been there to cry with you, to hold your hair whenever the nausea forced you to your knees, to coax you into showers and back out again when you couldn't will your own exhausted limbs to move, to feed you even when you didn't want to eat. But most of all, he had held you in his arms long into the nights when the pain had grown so bad you could barely breathe and the only image in your mind had been of the witch's triumphant face as her magic ripped you open…

Through every nightmare, Sam had been there for you, steady as a rock you had hauled yourself against over and over.

The distress had made you blind to the possibility that Sam needed a rock too.

Ultimately, your grief wasn’t just yours to carry.

"Y/N?," came Dean's voice over the phone when you didn't answer, softer this time.

"Okay," you managed in a strangled whisper. It wasn't much, but it was all you could offer right now and it seemed good enough for Dean. You hadn't exactly been talkative lately.

"Okay. Good talk." He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Like I said, we're on our way. Four hours tops, we only stopped for gas. I'll see you when we get there."

He hung up and you were left once again in the almost total silence of the bunker.

Very slowly you lowered your phone to your lap, Dean's words echoing in your head.

Be there for him.

Be there for him like he had been there for you.

Be there for him like you hadn't been for a long time.

You swallowed and swung your legs off the bed, carefully putting your feet on the concrete floor as if it might bite at any given moment and force you to retrieve to the safety of your pillows and blankets.

When it didn't, you got up and turned on the light. It hurt your eyes at first; the only times you didn’t leave yourself in darkness was when Sam was there with you and decided you needed a break from the gloom.

The brothers had been gone for three days now and you had only left the bed to go to the bathroom once or twice during that time and your legs felt as solid as a five-tier mousse cake. The short few steps from the bed to the light switch had your vision blur and you were on the floor almost before you knew it, the dizziness surging over you with the force of the tide.You had to wait for it to ebb for several minutes before you attempted to get back up.

A few days ago, you wouldn’t have bothered.

You would have lain there on the cold, hard floor for those four hours it would take Sam to come home from the hunt and help you back into bed. Freezing, no doubt, every joint in your body stiff, and Sam would have been in a panic to find you like that, half-dead and not caring as he practically forced warmth back into you.

But now the guilt drew you to scramble to your feet and try again.

Be there for him.

You leaned on the doorframe as another wave of dizziness swept over you and waited with your forehead on the firmness of the wood until your heart had slowed down and the world stopped spinning. Sam was not going to find you on the fucking floor again.

With slow, careful steps, you made your way to the kitchen and took stock of the fridge.

It seemed your boys had kept it fully stocked on the off chance that you might actually eat something while they were gone. The shelves were loaded with your favourite things.

You had to blink away a few tears.

The only thing you’d managed to consume since they left was a single Mars-bar and you hadn’t even been able to keep that down for long. Nausea began to rise in you at the mere memory, but you fought it back down as you poured yourself a glass of water and forced yourself to drink it, slowly. When the glass was empty, you made yourself drink another.

Your stomach growled insistently. It had been several days since you had last felt hungry, as if your body had simply given up on trying to convince you to eat. The sight of food seemed to remind it that you needed more sustenance than air to survive and you had a lot to make up for.

With determination, you went to the pantry and found what you hoped you could endure: neutral crackers, white toast, a single apple.

You sat down on the doorstep and ate two of the crackers before even attempting to go back to the kitchen with your food. As expected, your vision turned blurry again, but it passed quicker this time.

It took you awhile to eat. Toasting the bread just enough to turn it crisp and shred the apple into tiny scraps seemed like small tasks, but in your state they felt herculean and very nearly made you give up. 

However, you refused to just go back to bed and wait to wither away completely. 

It hadn’t been far off. You wouldn’t move or speak or eat. Sam could only help you so much when you didn’t want to fight for yourself and he knew it, knew that he was losing you too. You had seen it in his eyes in the past week or so, the desperately buried knowledge that you were slipping through his fingers no matter what he did.

It should have made you angry at yourself, but you had been too far gone to really see it or care. All you had wanted was to vanish.

A large part of you still wanted that, but somehow those few, stern words Dean had spoken on the phone had flicked on a switch inside your head.

Be there for him.

You were not going to abandon Sam. Sam who had been strong for you even though he was probably hurting just as bad. You couldn’t do that to him. Even if all you did was hurt together, you had to be there for him too.

You couldn’t let that witch win.

With all the determination you could muster, you went back to the pantry and gathered a few more things. You were tired and wanted to sleep, but you reckoned you had slept enough for a lifetime already.

A look at the clock on the wall confirmed that you still had more than three hours before the brothers would be back and if it had been as bad as Dean had let on, they would no doubt be hungry and worn out. The least you could do was to make sure they had something to eat when they came home.

It was what you would have done in the past if you hadn’t been out with them on a hunt.

It was normal.

At least, it had been normal.

Now, the motions of turning on the oven and preparing the crust for the savoury pie you had made a thousand times before, felt foreign and unnatural to your hands. You chopped up vegetables at a quarter of your normal speed because your fingers wouldn’t quite close around the handle of the knife. The dough that you had once been able to knead in your sleep with your non-dominant hand now made sweat break out on your forehead and you had to take breaks to catch your breath.

Still, you went through the steps until the stupid quiche was in the oven and the smell of bacon and baked crust started to spread in the kitchen and made you bend over the sink to puke.

So much for eating, but at least you had put in the effort.

Feeling miserable and tired, but more accomplished than you had in months, you set the timer on the oven and went to take a shower. You were reeking of sweat and neglect beneath the scent of Sam’s oversized flannel shirt. He shouldn’t have to come home to that.

Not again at least.

The more you thought about it, the more guilty you felt and the more you realised just how much Sam had done for you.

You swallowed as you closed the door to the shower room and walked to the stall furthest from the door, the one you always used. All your products were stashed there, along with a few of Sam’s as well, and you stripped out of the flannel, grateful for the lack of mirrors in your little corner.

It still filled you with dread whenever you looked at the long white scar across your stomach where the witch had cut into you and stolen that tiny little life you had had growing there, barely even person-shaped yet and infinitely fragile, only covered in blood and magic.

You had to swallow hard and force yourself to turn on the shower.

The hot water streaming down on you eased the burning in your eyes and you were grateful for it. With movements small and shaky you began to gingerly wash yourself with your favourite shower gel, trying not to put too much focus on the body that felt so different and wrong under your touch.

There was the large scar on your shin as well from where you had landed on it when you tried to run from the witch and fell down half a flight of metal stairs.

Sam and Dean had been in two different rooms of the warehouse you had all been searching when they heard you scream and both had come running to save you, but by the time they reached you, it had been too late.

They had found you bleeding out in the middle of the floor, barely able to speak, while the witch had been trying to put that little, bloody thing into herself with magic. Before you could tell them what was happening, that they needed her alive to save you, to save the helpless little embryo in her grasp that your very soul was screaming belonged to you, the brothers had raised their guns and shot her. Dean through the head, Sam through the heart.

You clenched your teeth hard as you scrubbed on the skin of your arms, willing yourself back to the here and now.

Between Rowena’s best efforts and Cas’ waning grace, it had been difficult enough just putting you back together again. The other life inside you was irrevocably gone. There was no undoing it. You couldn’t go back and change what had happened, no matter how long you spent wallowing in the memory of it.

But you could make yourself presentable again and you could make sure there was food waiting for Sam and Dean when they got home from their hunt, even if it took every bit of strength you almost didn’t have.

When you deemed yourself to smell more like a clean human and less like a dead possum, you went on to lather a generous amount of shampoo into your hair that definitely needed a good rinse too. The soap stung your eyes, so you closed them and focused on the feeling of your fingertips rubbing your scalp. You had to admit it felt nice. And paired with the scaldingly hot water it helped distract you from the ache in your limbs, especially your breasts. 

They had been swelling with milk for a while now, even though you had no one to feed anymore. Rowena had warned you with pity in her eyes that the magic the dead witch had used to open you up would have side effects like this and there was nothing you could do but wait until it passed.

It felt as though your own body was betraying you by keeping you like this, reminding you every time you moved of what you had lost. The first time you had had to pump out the milk you had cried on the bathroom floor for hours; Sam had had to pick the lock to get to you. 

You just wanted it to stop.

Resolutely, you turned the water off and started toweling yourself dry. Unless Dean had finally foregone driving by the rules altogether, there was still time before the brothers were back. You could get yourself into some real clothes, set the table for the three of you and still have time to mix up a dessert.

It felt comforting having a purpose, but by the time you reached your room it became clear that you were spent. Plucking a pair of clean panties from your drawer and stealing a T-shirt from Sam’s almost made you topple over and as soon as you had put them on, you knew you wouldn’t get anything more done tonight.

In a haze, you walked to the kitchen and turned the oven off, letting the quiche sit in the residual heat to keep warm until the boys came back. Then you stumbled back into bed and drifted off into sleep almost immediately.

For the first time in weeks, it was heavy and dreamless.

You only got to spend one sorry hour in the darkness, though.

Maybe your body really had gotten enough sleep at this point or maybe you were just so attuned to his presence it automatically woke you up now. 

Whatever the case, you opened your eyes sometime during the night and found Sam standing halfway between the door and the bed, watching you with those big, mournful eyes of his.

You sat up slowly, still groggy with sleep, but somehow more alert than you had been in a long time. A slight tremor ran through him at your movement, but then his lips quivered into the smallest of smiles and he sat down next to you.

Sam leaned in and kissed you almost chastely on the forehead. He smelled of the Impala, of fire and smoke, and you reckoned he hadn’t showered after coming back, just gone straight to you.

“You cooked.” His voice was low and trembled a little, and you leaned into him, placing your arms around him and your head on his shoulder where you could sense the faltering rhythm of his breath. He was still wearing his jacket, hadn’t even bothered to unzip it yet and you felt your throat grow thick at the realisation.

Sam had practically existed for you since the witch hunt, been soft and considerate and stronger than anyone ought to be, but now he was sitting here still wearing his jacket, hardly even able to offer you his usual reassurances or words of affection.

Something had gone very wrong out there.

You squeezed his big, solid frame that suddenly seemed oddly small in your arms.

“Are you okay?,” you whispered, stroking his back softly and you could feel how he shattered beneath your touch.

He pulled you tight against him and burrowed his face into your neck, his body shaking with sobs. It broke your already helplessly crushed heart to feel him like this.

Be there for him.

Carefully, you crawled onto his lap in order to sit closer together and let him cry against you for as long as he needed to. You kept stroking his back and his head, never shushing him and never moving away. Instead, you did your best to make him know that you were there, breathing steadily to maybe let some of your brittle calm seep into him.

Whatever had happened on the hunt, you knew he blamed himself. Sam Winchester was the strongest person you had ever met, but even he couldn’t carry the weight on the world on his broad shoulders like he so often attempted and as a result he had spent all the time you had known him feeling painfully inadequate in nearly every aspect of his life. 

Maybe it had always been that way. People always died around him no matter how hard he fought, no matter how many he also saved, and in the end, he was left alone with nightmares full of faces of people he hadn’t been able to get to in time, an ever-growing list that had almost come to include you as well.

Right then and there, you knew you couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t leave him alone with the thought that you were one more person he had failed to save.

For something that felt like an eternity, you sat there with your arms around him, until finally his violent sobbing died down to sniffles and eventually faded completely.

You waited for a while before breaking the silence and asking in the softest tone in your register.

“Can you talk about it?”

He sniffled again and you could feel him draw a deep breath, bracing himself.

“Changelings,” he mumbled at last, swallowing hard. “We were… we were too late.”

His voice broke and took a piece of your torn heart with it.

“When we finally found their hiding place, it… it must have been days, I-I don’t know… I… We didn’t… I tried, I tried so goddamn hard, but he, he wouldn’t breathe and I couldn’t make him open his eyes, they wouldn’t open their eyes…”

Sam was shaking in your hold again and he clung to you now as if his life depended on it, clenching you far beyond comfort, but you let him. Your own fingers didn’t cease their almost mindless caress of his back. The front of your shirt was soaked in his tears and you realised your own face was wet too.

“They were just children,” he managed devastated and it felt as though a black hole had appeared right about where your stomach had been a few moments before. “They were so small and I, I couldn’t save them, I couldn’t… I’m sorry,” he sobbed and something in his trembling voice shifted. Somehow, your arms around him had never felt more inadequate. “If I’d just been faster, oh god. I should never have let you go back on your own, what was I thinking?! I’m sorry, baby, I’m so, so sorry. I nearly got you killed, I… I got our child killed…”

An icy cold fist closed around your lungs and squeezed.

He blamed himself. He blamed himself. 

Of course Sam Winchester would blame himself for this, just like he did everything else. How could you have been so self-absorbed?

He needed you more than ever and you had shut yourself away in your grief, from him, from everything.

"I don't know how you can stand to look at me," he admitted quietly.

A whimpering little excuse of a sob broke from your throat like water slipping through your fingers. His words hurt so badly you couldn’t help it.

You wanted to cry rivers, but fuck, hadn't you already done enough of that lately?

With a body that trembled to obey, you pushed away from him enough for you to softly place your hands on each side of his face and forced him to meet your eyes in the half-dark.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak. Instead, you just held onto his gaze until you could see that he understood you were not going to look away from him.

Very slowly, you leaned forward and placed your lips against his.

He hesitated at first, unsure of what exactly was kissing him: the woman he loved or a broken pile of grief that had assumed her shape, longing for oblivion?

The velvet of his mouth was not as easy to gain access to as you were used to, but after all this time, you supposed you deserved as much.

You pulled away just a fraction.

"Sam, if it weren't for you, I would be dead," you whispered, kissing his cheek the way he had kissed yours so many times when you had been at your lowest.

"You are everything to me." He let out a shuddering breath that might have also been a sigh of relief when you slowly kissed him on the other cheek too.

“And I love you”.

You didn't try to force another kiss on him. You didn't need to.

With your silent permission, he crashed his mouth to yours so fiercely you were glad of his arms holding you to him. His lips burrowed into you over and over again with a desperate hunger you were more than willing to sate, even if it meant you would pass out before coming up for air. He hadn't kissed you like this since it happened, hadn't let him. Instead you had turned your head away until eventually he stopped trying. Chaste pecks on your forehead had been all you had allowed in your liminal state of silent despair, but now you realised just how starved you were too.

You couldn't help but moan loudly when his tongue pushed past your lips and the sound made him draw back in surprise. His eyes had fallen shut as you kissed, but now they were wide open as if truly seeing you for the first time that night: freshly-showered, heat radiating off your body and irises blown black with want, mirror images of his own.

But, more importantly, behind the dark pools of lust, you reckoned he could finally see another person staring back. You were truly there with him in the here and now.

“I want you so much, baby,” he rasped and you realised that he was still trembling under your touch. “Please… let me make you feel good again?”

His lips were back on yours as soon as you nodded and you eagerly opened your mouth, wanting his tongue back. You weren’t just hungry, you were practically ravenous for him.

Moans started building up in your throat almost faster than you could let them out and Sam tilted his head to continue kissing his way down your jaw and your neck, reveling in the sounds he drew from you, but never straying too far from your lips.

Instead he used his fingers to trace patterns of electricity down your back and up your arms, across your collarbones and down your chest again. You whined a little when his hands grabbed hold of your sore and swollen breasts, but he quickly took the hint and went on to drag his hands further down your body. The heat nearly erupted inside you when he cupped your mound through your panties and proceeded to slide his fingers past the flimsy waistband to stroke your clit.

Immediately, you began to rock yourself against his hand. It had been too long, his kiss alone had left you soaked and your walls were already quivering with need.

“Sam, please,” you begged, fingers clutching at his hair. “More-mff!”

He cut you off by shoving his tongue back into your mouth, effectively swallowing your gasp as he pushed a finger in between your wet folds all the way down to his knuckle.

"I've got you, baby," Sam whispered between heavy kisses. "I've got you."

He easily stroked you right to the edge of what you could take, crooking his finger inside of you just right and you dug your nails into his shoulders, holding on tight as hot sparks of pleasure flared up from where he was touching you, making you groan into his mouth.

Your cunt greedily accepted another one of his long fingers. They filled you so perfectly you were certain you would die if he took them away. With the heel of his hand he kept rubbing your clit while scissoring his fingers in you, reacquainting himself with the feel of you until at last the pressure in you burst and you came with a wordless cry, head buried in his shoulder and hips stuttering against him.

Sam kept stroking you through the orgasm, prolonging it until you were so sensitive you had to squeeze your walls around him to make him stop.

He stilled his hand and you slumped against his large frame, breathing in his scent as you came down from the rush. A rush, you realised, you had missed more than you knew.

You hadn't touched yourself since the witch hunt, disgusted as you were with your own body and out of your mind with grief. The few times you had thought about it, any urge had wilted as soon as you slipped your fingers past the fabric of your underwear and you had ended up crying instead. And just as you hadn't let Sam kiss your lips, you had turned away from his hands as well whenever he had indicated he wanted more than to hold you. The knowledge that his child was gone from where it had been growing inside of you, that your body was now empty had made any further intimacy with Sam impossible to bear. Your mind wasn't idle telling you over and over again how spectacularly you had let him down, how you were worthless now, worthless and empty and broken. A failure, at everything.

You were nothing but a brittle shell of a person, fractured beyond repair and Sam would realise soon enough, too. 

"Sweetheart?"

You realised you must have sniffled out loud enough for him to hear.

Be there for him. 

Banishing all thoughts of your own misery the best you could, you leaned down and kissed him on the neck, just inside of the collar on his red and white flannel.

"Take this off," you whispered, slowly undoing the topmost button and you could feel a shudder run through him, all the way to his fingers still in your cunt.

"Are you sure?"

"Mm-hm," you hummed and started in on the next button, brushing your lips languidly over the underside of his jaw.

A low groan began in the bottom of his throat, but he didn't move.

"I- I need to hear you say it," he demanded in a strained voice, clasping your hands in his unoccupied one before you could snap open the next button of his shirt. "I have to know you mean it."

Why did he have to see right through you like that? Even high-strung with arousal and the pent-up adrenaline and distress of a hunt gone bad, he still read you like an open book.

Your throat felt as hard and unyielding as a glass ball, but you managed to speak around it.

“I do want it, Sam,” you got out, briefly proud that you could keep your voice steady. “I want to feel you… here…” You clenched your walls around his fingers, keeping his hand in place. “Please, darling. Make me yours again?”

His fingers began to lose their hold on your wrists and so you eagerly continued unclasping the buttons of his flannel. You had to bite your lip not to whine too loudly when he pulled his fingers from the snug warmth of your pussy, but the sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tore the last few buttons of his shirt himself, shrugging out of the plaid and practically ripping the white undershirt next.

"Anything you ask, baby," he breathed onto your neck before kissing your sensitive skin there. You arched up into the feeling of his mouth, letting him guide your body down onto the sheets beneath him. His weight on top of you was a welcome one and you laced your fingers in his messy, windswept hair as he licked his way from your neck onto your tongue, keeping you close while his hands worked first on your panties, then on the zipper of his jeans.

As soon as all offending pieces of clothing were gone, you folded your legs around his hips to feel the hot, heavy weight of his cock against your core. You ground your hips upwards once, twice and Sam let out a strangled groan at the feeling of your soaked folds sliding over him, teasing him harder and harder.

He pressed your hips down with one hand to make you stop and grabbed his cock with the other, lining up with your entrance, still slick from your previous orgasm. As soon as the bulbous head of his cock began pressing into you, just the first inch, you threw your head back into the pillows with a cry. The stretch of him was divine, it was almost too much. Tears of pleasure rose to your eyes and you clung to his shoulders as he slowly sank into you until his thatch of dark hair was flush against yours and you were so deliciously full of him you wanted to scream.

“F-fuck, you feel so good, baby,” Sam moaned into the side of your neck. Both of you trembled with the desire coursing through your joined bodies and you whimpered when he drew his hips a little back from yours, only to thrust back in and make you gasp instead.

Sam set a steady pace of slow, deep thrusts that allowed you to savour each and every heavenly drag of his cock against your sensitive walls until you were sure you would lose your mind with pleasure.

The longer he moved in you, the more sloppy his mouth on your skin became, the more desperate his hands until he was practically forcing you down into the mattress and you realised through the haze of bliss that he was afraid you would disappear beneath his touch.

His hands found the hem of your T-shirt and gave it a questioning tug, halting his movements to a gentle roll of his hips against you. That grey T-shirt was the last piece of fabric separating you.

“Can I take this off you?,” Sam asked breathily, pleadingly and you found yourself nodding, allowing him to lift it up your stomach, then your chest, then over your head and toss it to the side. Only then did you realise that you had stopped breathing.

The thought of how your naked body looked in the mirror now was suddenly all you could think about, the long, awful scars marring your stomach, your stupid, painfully swollen breasts that wouldn’t stop leaking… Shit.

It wasn’t just Sam’s tears that had soaked the T-shirt. You had been so caught up in comforting Sam that you hadn’t even noticed. As if it wasn’t bad enough that it reminded you of your grief and your guilt all the time, now Sam had to look at it too and the thought alone was almost enough to make you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’ll… I’ll go get cleaned up, I didn’t mean…”

The words died upon your lips when you caught Sam's expression in the half-dark. His eyes were sparkling, mesmerised by the white leaking from your sore nipples. Slowly, as if in a trance, he leaned down and placed his mouth on your breast, licking the trail of milk from your skin.

“S-Sam, you don’t have t-to… oh.” Oh. His lips closed around your nipple before giving it a tentative suck. “Ah!”

The little stinging sensation that itched in you at first was nothing compared to the almost ecstatic relief you felt when some of the weight was lifted from your breast, flowing into Sam’s gentle mouth. He moaned at the taste and sucked harder, making you whimper and arch your back up into him. You were sore, but Sam was all soft lips and hot tongue lapping and suckling at your flesh. Slowly, he started moving again, timing each brush of his cock against that sweet, aching spot inside of you with a suck on one of your nipples, stroking the warm, pulsing need in you until your entire body was throbbing with desire.

You clung to him almost as hard as he did you, digging your fingertips into his shoulder and the back of his head while he kept worshipping your breasts with his mouth, moaning deep in his throat you all the while. 

The sensations were all too much and at the same time not quite enough.

“Sam, please… I’m so close,” you mewled, the muscles in your legs straining around him.

“Me too, baby,” he panted, immediately making his thrusts come faster and the sound of skin slapping against skin started to mix with your cries and groans of pleasure.

Fuck, how had you ever managed to turn him down?

The white-hot pressure in you burst and you came around his cock with a loud cry and blissful tears running down your cheeks. You soared on the waves of your release, cradling Sam against you and with a groan muffled by your chest, he came too, stilling inside of you while the walls of your cunt milked him for all he had, prolonging your own orgasm until your vision began to flicker, black spots, white spots, an explosion of fire shooting through your veins.

Every muscle in you went limp and you fell back against the pillows with your arms still holding onto Sam the best you could. You didn’t move to push him off. Instead you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the tickle of his hair against your neck, his fingers still desperately digging into your hips and thighs, and the warm weight of his frame on top of yours, his cum hot and sticky between your legs where he was still buried in you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this good and safe, but surely it must have been before… well, before the witch broke you.

Sam lay completely spent in your arms, breathing heavily as he came down from his high. You didn’t want to let go of him ever again. Almost on instinct, you clenched him a little tighter.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t sure at first if he had heard it. The silent words were followed by the shadow of a sob, hardly more than a tremble in your breath and a new trickle of tears that all too easily turned your ebbing pleasure bittersweet.

“Why?” His voice was raspy and not much louder than yours. Just as you had feared, his hold on you started to loosen as he pulled back and looked down at your wet face.

“For putting you through this,” you managed in a choked excuse of a whisper. “For letting you down…”

“No, don’t say that. Hey! Look at me,” he urged when you closed your eyes again to try and stem the flow of tears. “Baby, I love you. Don’t you know? You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me in this cursed life and I can't…" Sam had to stop and swallow around the lump in his throat. "I can't fathom how you still want me, but as long as you do, I'll be there for you. Because I want to. You're not putting me through anything, okay?"

And as you looked into those sad, adoring eyes of his, you saw nothing but truth shining back at you. He meant it.

“Okay.” You sniffled, overwhelmed, but happy when Sam leant down to kiss you deeply on the mouth to accentuate his point. His mouth was sweet after having feasted on your milk and you couldn’t help a contented sigh as you sampled the taste. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought you ought to have been disgusted, but you didn’t really care when everything about kissing Sam just felt so right. You readily indulged when his tongue parted your lips to tangle with your own at a much slower pace than earlier. Arousal started to gather in your belly again until it felt like a pleasant hum stroking and relaxing your limbs. Your hands found their favourite position of their own accord: buried in his hair, while Sam’s arms gently folded their way back around your waist.

After a while of lazily making out, Sam finally broke away with a reluctant smile on his lips. It was the first time you had seen him so at peace for months.

“As nice as this is,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours, “we really ought to get cleaned up”.

“Don’t wanna move,” you answered, hardly ever breaking contact with his kiss-swollen lips and he grinned at that, making your heart soar so high and so far you almost thought it would never come back down.

“Neither do I,” Sam sighed, squeezing your body close. “But we have to. Come on. I promise we’ll get just as comfortable when we get back.”

“Fine,” you grumbled with the corners of your mouth turning upwards almost against your will. “But only if you say you love me again.”

His smile was as bright and as beautiful as the stars.

Tags: @renxzs​ @lilana56 @fouramtwohourstogo​ @corishirogane3​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @cake-writes​ @sagechanoafterdark​

[samstrugglingwithlife]

Comforting his Stressed Out Girlfriend Before Exams

BOKUTO 

Bokuto is the type of person to never take any type of stress over things like exams and grades so when he sees you hunched over your text book grabbing your hair in frustration he is literally so confused.

He confidently tells you that if studying is stressing you out then you should just stop. Like Baby no, that's not how this works, what is you saying???

You have to literally sit him down and tell him how important your exams are to you and how much you really need your grades to be good. He doesn’t fully understand why you’re stressed because he firmly believes that you’ll ace it, you’re the smartest person he knows... other than Akaashi of course.

He sits there in deep thought as you keep your face buried in your notes, you assume that he’s quite out of consideration so as to not distract you. 

Suddenly, he gets up and leaves without saying a single word, which hurts your feelings a little as you were hoping to cuddle with him for fifteen minutes before you resumed your studies.

About twenty minutes later he slams open your door with take out from your favorite restaurant in his hand. “HEY, HEY, HEY, IT’S TIME FOR A BREAK!” he announces loudly. He sets the food on your floor and pulls you away from your books, he starts feeding you the food with his own hands. 

After you are finished with the food you get up to go to your study table but suddenly, the ground disappears from beneath you and you find yourself lifted high up in Bokuto’s arms. He gently places you on your bed and lays down next to you, pulling you close to his chest and holding you snug between his arms. When you protest he just shushes you and tells you its nap time.

Once you relax in his arms, he starts to gently whisper in your ears how much faith he has on you and you will ace your exams, no doubt. You fall asleep to his encouraging words.

You don’t wake up until the next morning but you’re so refreshed that you find it easier to study and your mind is clear. Bokuto is just happy that his baby is feeling better!

For the next few days until your exams are over, Bokuto keeps you company, he distracts you when you get overwhelmed and helps you relax but he never gets in your way. He never forgets to remind you that you will ace your exam with no problems at all.

 KUROO

Kuroo understands the stress and pressure before exams but he has developed techniques that help him not only relieve stress but also allow him to retain information and ace his tests. 

When he sees you bury your nose deep in your books, your back hunched over the table, mumbling the passages his eyes soften and his heart starts aching for you.

He decides that he will share his methods with you. 

The first thing he does is pull you away from the books and hold you tight in a warm comforting hug. Then he pushes you into the bathroom to take a nice and relaxing bath. Once you’re all bathed and in comfortable clothes he sits with you and helps you study.

The two of you dive into the books. He quizzes you and happily praises you when you get the answers right. He helps you revise the ones you were not able to get right but he never lets you panic. 

Kuroo would pause your study sessions whenever you’re feeling too overwhelmed and distracts you as best as he can. He would take you out for ice cream and while the two of you are out he encourages you to discuss the study material so you don’t feel like you’re slacking.

When there are only a few days left before your exam, Kuroo shows up at your place with flash cards and revision notes that he stayed up all night to make for you. Nobody has ever done that for me and I’m mad.

If he’s not there with you while you’re studying, he’ll call you every few hours and remind you take breaks and sleep. 

On the day of your exam he walks you to your class or your exam center and before letting you go in he tells you how proud he is of you and how hard you’ve worked and you will surely pass.

When you come out after your test, he doesn’t ask you how it went or any details, he just takes you out on a date so he can tire you out and you can sleep without thinking too much about the exam.

AKAASHI

Akaashi is a very studious guy. He likes to remain on top of his studies so as to reduce the stress before the exams, but he is not immune to it. So when he sees you hiding your face in your textbook and crying out of frustration he understands and wastes no time to gather you in his arms and speak gentle words to you and hush you.

Akaashi offers to help you study before you can even think of asking him. He makes a study schedule for the two of you and follows it very strictly.

The two of you make flash cards and you each carry a set with you so even if you’re both out in public you two can quiz each other.

He encourages you to take frequent breaks. When you’re nestled inside the covers beside him he reads out loud to you from your textbook so you can retain information even as you drift off to sleep.

He spoon feeds you your meals and snacks as you keep your eyes on your notes. You don’t see it but he has a gentle and loving smile on his face. 

If you’re feeling too overwhelmed, he’ll simply hold you close and let you cry out your frustration until you calm down and return back to studying.

The few days leading up to your exam Akaashi makes sure to help you not panic and you two do a lot of calming exercises. 

The day before your exam when you’re feeling extremely anxious Akaashi takes you out to hang out with him and Bokuto and lets Bokuto’s dumb antics distract. 

The night before, he makes sure that all your stationary is packed, that your clothes are ironed and ready to wear. He double checks everything for you. He kisses you goodnight and goes home. He doesn’t let you know but he’s also feeling nervous before your exam.

When your exam is over, he meets you just outside of your classroom with your favorite beverage and snack. He takes your hand and you two sit together on a bench and he watches you eat as he strokes your back and tells you how hard you’ve worked and how proud he is of you. He promises to give you unlimited hugs and kisses when you two get home and that makes you happy which brings a smile to his face.

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch5: Doggy Style Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Everyone at the resort feels the aftermath of the blow up from the night before…and they welcome a new member to the team.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Tiny bit of smut via flashback- like blink and you miss it (NSFW no under18s)

 Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz 

  Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

 When Hannah woke up the following morning her eyes were swollen and sore from crying. She winced at the rays of sun that hit her mercilessly and shut her eyes again as she stretched and sat up on her bed. Her head was pounding and she didn't feel like seeing anyone that morning, she was pissed at everyone. Well not everyone. Rachel and Jake hadn't wronged her in any way since they had met. On the contrary, Rachel had been the sister she had never had, her only girl friend in a place brimming with testosterone in a country hostile to women. She’d sat with Hannah, comforting her for a while the previous night, rubbing her back and calming her down till she had stopped sobbing. And Jake had been nothing but friendly and kind with her, he had made her laugh and had showed her the wonders of Red Sea bottom

 The revelation of what Andy had done had sideswiped her greatly. Maybe that out of everything was what had hurt her more and what was worse, there was nothing she could do about it no matter how angry she felt, no face to punch either. She knew she had to move forwards and that there was no point dwelling in the past because as her mama always said, You can't change the past, but you can make your future. And she was determined to follow her mother's wise words but, that said, she still was ready to kill someone along the way. Starting with Sammy and she would probably have killed Andy too if he was there. She certainly wanted to rip Max's tongue off and feed it to the fish. And then there was Ari. Ari ... well, where to even start with that?

She pushed her evil thoughts aside as she got up and pulled a pair of shorts and a top. She brushed her teeth and headed out, deciding to go for a walk before taking a shower. She strolled in the kitchen and grabbed herself a coffee, greeting Rachel good morning and blatantly ignoring Max, who was eating toast. 

"Don't you forget I need you to help me with the aerobics class, Han." Rachel reminded Hannah, looking between her and Max.

"Sure. I'll be back on time." Hannah said as she took her mug and headed off down the shore.

She walked mindlessly for five minutes, enjoying the early morning sea breeze and the calming feeling of the beach sand under her feet and between her toes. The walk took her to her favourite spot just where the shore curved round the bay. It was a huge crop of rocks which were ideal for sitting in between and hiding. It was almost like a little cave, her cave, with two large rocks either side and a flat one which formed a sort of roof. It reminded her of a dolmen, ideal for sitting under and cleansing one's mind and spirit.

She was lost in her thoughts, dwelling on how she was determined to take the reins of her own life from that moment on and fuck the world, as her eyes scanned the ocean in front of her. Then, suddenly, something cold, then warm and wet nudged her hand. She gave a little yell and jumped as she thought it had been a jellyfish. But she didn't feel any itching or irritation, so she then thought it must have been some sort of fish or eel, something that was washed up.

Not that it was a more comforting thought.

Hannah looked around and saw a small, hairless dog cowering in the inner corner of the cave. Or at least it looked like a dog. She approached the animal cautiously to verify it was indeed a dog and not some other random form of life and was pleased to see her initial identification was correct. 

"Hey puppy." she said gently, holding her hand out.

The dog was tentative. He looked at her hand but didn't move a muscle so she stayed still allowing him time to move and sniff her and then his tail gave a small wag and she reached out to scratch his ear. The dog then wagged his tail a little stronger.

"I like you too, buddy." Hannah said softly, smiling at him. 

At the sound of her voice the dog came nearer and put his paws on her legs, wagging his tail before he sat down close next to her, his head resting against her legs. She noticed then the dog needed a bit of patching up as he had a few wounds over its back. He must have been a stray dog living in the cave, she thought, and she had intruded his safe place.

She drank her coffee in silence with the dog beside her. Then she got up and headed to the resort in order to take a shower and help Rachel with the damned aerobics class, but when she looked down she realised the dog had followed her instead of staying behind his home. Her mind travelled then to Cocoa, the dog they had as a kid. A chocolate Labrador who used to growl at Sammy whenever he was teasing her or messed with her dolls. Cocoa used to follow her all over, he was like her shadow and had never let her down. Of course he hadn't because dogs are better than people. They're loyal, which is not something many people at the resort could claim.

And that was that, she was keeping the dog. She made up her mind there and then. This dog had appeared when she most needed something to rely on and maybe he needed her too.

 When Hannah entered the resort, followed by the dog, everyone was sat on a table at the patio, before the guests awoke fully and the busy hours of the day began.

 "Oh my God! Whose dog is this? Hi fella?" Rachel said, immediately spotting the dog.

 "Suppose he’s mine now." Hannah shrugged as she took a seat next to Jake and left the coffee mug on the table.  "Found him on the beach...or he found me."

"We're not keeping a dog...are you keeping him? Seriously?" Sammy asked, raising her voice with every question.

Hannah merely glared at him, she didn't say a word. She turned to Rachel instead before saying "I think I might keep him.”

Simon then pottered over to Max, sitting down beside him, his ears forward, looking at his food.

"The dog wants my food." Max deadpanned.

"Give him some then." Hannah said, rolling her eyes.

Max hesitated before grabbing some beef bacon from Ari's plate and gave it to the dog.

"The dog wanted your food not mine." Ari protested, before taking a sip from his coffee.

He looked at the dog as he wolfed it down and then jumped up, paws on Max's leg, tail wagging so hard his butt was moving.

 "Hey!  He likes me." Max chimed.

"He is kinda cute..hey buddy..." Jake said as he gave a sharp whistle and fed him a slice of toast.

"There's some leftover chicken in the fridge..." Rachel offered, seeing as the dog would guzzle all their breakfast if they let him.

 "Oh, cool, he's hungry...poor thing..." Hannah said standing up.

She slapped her leg and the dog followed her unconditionally.

Once she was gone Sammy started his usual campaign against anything new.

"She can't keep him." he groaned.

"She's so keeping it." Jake snorted.

Ari who was now smoking a cigarette, his left arm leaning on the chair's back, asked "Why can't he stay?"

 "He reminds me of Ethan...no hair" Max joked, with his signature grin. Rachel slapped him on the back of his head and everyone bar Sammy snorted.

"Seriously, Ari, she can't keep it. We're on a mission." Sammy tried again.

"You fucking tell her then..." Ari growled, not bothering to look at him.

"Chill out, it's only a dog. And what's wrong with you two?" Jake asked, looking between Sammy and Ari.  "You're throwing daggers at each other."  He then turned to Max "And you, you're being weird too."

Ari decided then he had had enough and stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray. He too was pissed at Sammy and Max and wasn't in the mood to answer any of Jake's questions whatsoever.  "I'm going for a run." he said as he got up.

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of here..." Sammy snarled.

Ari stopped on his tracks and glared at him "I'm going now before I punch YOU in the jaw...and you wanna upset your sister again, be my guest, because I can't and I won't."

"Yeah, you've never been able to say no to her have you, Ari?" Sammy raised his voice again.  

“Ok, what have I missed?" Jake asked, his eyes darting between Sammy, Max and Rachel.

Ari just shot Sammy another glare, more like a death stare, thinking how he would love to drag him over the table and smash his face in.  But he simply left, his hands turning into fists.

 "Just leave it" Max whispered, leaning over Jake.

The first guests started appearing in the dining room just as Rachel switched seamlessly into Angela, welcoming them. Max, Jake and Sammy stood up and cleared the table they had been having breakfast at. Hannah came back, the dog on her tail after having been fed and patched up, and greeted the guests in a perfect Spanish accent. 

 "Buenos días" she said to the woman she had spoken Spanish to the day before, and then ignored everyone and headed to her hut. 

Just as she was about to reach her door she bumped into Ari as he emerged from his in his running gear complete with Walkman.

"Sorry firefly didn't see you..." Ari apologised.

"It's ok, I was distracted..." she said softly, taking him in but not daring to look him in the eyes.

Ari was in no better position and ran his hand through his hair struggling for words while she checked him out. And suddenly the dog jumped up at him.

"Hey pal..." Ari kneeled down to gently pat the puppy's head and scratch him behind his ears.

"Think he likes you." Hannah said, giving him a small smile.

Ari looked up, and saw Hannah was smiling, and he'd be damned if it wasn't a genuine smile. His eyes locked on hers for a second before he looked back at the dog who was now licking his face. 

"Where did you find him?" he asked softly.

"My rocks." she said, pointing to the curve of the bay. Ari squinted his eyes and then he spotted the place she was pointing out. "I think I might call him Simon."

Ari laughed at the random name. "Simon?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Hannah shrugged and just then he let out a snort as he realised "Still hoping Simon Le Bon is gonna come rescue you?"

"Well if you can't have Simon Le Bon, Simon Le Bone will do. What do you think, buddy?" Hannah cooed, bending to give him scratches.

"A substitute for the real thing?" Ari quipped. He sensed Hannah was in good spirits and decided it was worth giving a shot.

"Well, we don't always get what we want." she replied, looking up back at him.

Ari swallowed, remembering the dream he had had the other night and her saying those exact words to him on her 21st. His face then fell and though he tried to collect himself quickly Hannah noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, studying him.

"Nothing Firefly, just....I'm sorry." he answered quietly.

"Yeah, you said." she shrugged as she looked down at the dog who was now rolling on the sand. She looked back at Ari and could see the pain was still in his eyes even though he had rearranged his face. She swallowed before admitting "I'm sorry too, Lobo."

"What for?" he frowned. Now, that was a surprise.

"Being so angry at you...I know you're hurting too." she looked into his eyes, just to check they were still in turmoil.

Ari couldn't find the words, he didn't think he deserved her forgiveness. He knew he didn't. The only thing he could come up with was looking at her shrugging before stepping forward and in an automatic response, hugging her. He didn't even think about the possibility of her rejecting his touch, even his nearness. But, surprisingly, she rested her head against his chest as his hands gently rubbed at her back and he decided in a bold movement to kiss her head and whisper into her hair "I'm so sorry, Han."

"I know." she whispered back.

They stood there until a moment later she pulled back and wiped her eyes "Look I have to help Rachel with the tourists. Can you keep an eye on Simon?"

 "So we're actually calling him that?" Ari snorted.

"We?" Hannah asked, arching her eyebrow.

Ari simply smiled "I've got you on this, I like him."

"Let me guess, the others want him to go." Hannah asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, just Sammy." Ari confessed. But just as the words left her mouth he internally face palmed himself realising he may have just made it worse between the siblings.

"Well Sammy can jump. I'm done letting him take things from me." she said, her eyes burning with determination.

Ari saw her open her mouth to say something, but she shut it almost instantly as she apparently had changed her mind and after a few seconds she spoke again "I don't think there's anything on this afternoon, do you wanna take me into Port Sudan? Simon's gonna need some stuff if he is staying, I was gonna go diving but..."

Ari's mind went directly to Jake and his diving experience the previous day and blurted out  "No!" and noticed Hannah's surprised expression before correcting himself "I mean, yeah, I'll take you...sure."

"Thanks, so you're ok watching him whilst I help Rachel?" she checked.

Ari looked at the dog who glanced up at him, tongue lolling out before replying "Sure Firefly."

****

Ari was in the dining area, reading the American paper they got once a week if they were lucky, with Simon led by his feet when Sammy walked in. 

"Oh fuck me..." he said, stopping when he spotted the dog.

Ari looked at him, deciding if it was worth trying to speak to him or if he was actually in the mood to do so when Simon sat up and growled at Sammy.

"Oh look at that..." Ari grinned "He doesn't like you either."

"Fuck you Ari..." Sammy rolled his eyes "She convinced you, didn't she?"

"The dog stays, Sammy." Ari said sternly, his eyes on the newspaper.

"She did." Sammy said, shaking his head as he scoffed.

"Like I said, the dog stays." Ari looked at him again. "End of discussion."

"You're an idiot." Sammy spat.

"It's just a dog Sammy." Ari sighed "What's the issue?"

"You really can't say no to her can you?" Sammy asked as a response to Ari's question.

"Again Sammy?" Ari groaned as Sammy glared at him.

"Don't even think of getting near her again Ari." Sammy threatened him.

"Fuck off Sammy." Ari bit back feeling his temper fray as he stood up and stormed out of the dining area, pushing past Sammy and headed towards the beach, Simon following him. 

He nearly missed Max who was about to walk in the door and moved out of the way of Ari and looked at Sammy puzzled before saying "Wow, everyone loves you today, don't they?"

"Oh shut up Max." Sammy rolled his eyes and walked into the resort.

"Yeah, that's what I should have done." he muttered. He looked at Ari who was now walking down towards the ocean and turned to follow him.

"Ari..." he called, "Wait up buddy."

Ari stopped and turned and saw Simon ran towards Max as he stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for the man to reach his side.

"Yeah, I ain't got no food now pal...you ate it all.”

Ari called Simon by his name to stop bothering Max and Max looked at him "Simon? Let me guess, Duran Duran..."

"You know Hannah." Ari snorted "Simon Le Bone, meet Max...or Irving...he's Maltese..."

"Le Bone?" Max laughed "Good call..."

"Yeah I thought so too." Ari smiled.

"Look, Ari.I want to apologise. I swear when I told Andy well, I didn't think he would go and do that..." Max spoke, looking at him shyly.

"Well, he did." Ari shrugged.  "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't it?" Max asked. Not believing for a moment his leader was going to let him get away with it. But Ari just sighed. "I know you Ari, and I know Hannah too." Max insisted.

"Well, in that case why don't you tell me if it matters or not then Max?" Ari asked, a little tetchy.

"You know it does Ari." Max shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry man."  he added before leaving.

Ari breathed out and looked down at Simon before muttering "Everyone's fuckin' sorry... Well, except Sammy that is."

Simon just looked at him. The dog hadn't got a clue of what was going on so he happily headed down to the ocean, sticking his paws in the water. 

*****

Ari drove the truck down the main road heading towards Port Sudan. Neither of them were talking much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Both of them were glad to get away from the atmosphere that had descended on the Red Sea Diving resort, even if they were partially responsible for it despite that not being totally their fault.

Hannah was simply looking out of the window, every so often taking something in, an interesting landmark, an animal, whatever it was they passed by. Her passenger side window was opening, causing the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun to blow around her face. Ari stole a glance at her, taking in her profile, smiling softly to himself thinking it was probably a good job her eyes were covered by her shades because he really should be focussed on the road…

“Why are you looking at me Ari?” Hannah questioned as she turned to face him. He hastily averted his attention to the road as he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Was just thinking, it’s been a while since we've been alone in a car." he said, his elbow leaning on the door frame.

"Yeah well this ain’t gonna end the same way as the last time that happened." she said taking a deep breath as she looked back out of the window.

"What do you mean?" Ari frowned.

She turned to look at him "You forgotten that night after the McDonalds drive through?"

Oh…

Ari tossed the scrunched up cheeseburger wrapper into the paper bag as Hannah did the same, before he turned and dropped the trash into the rear foot well of his chevvy behind his seat. Hannah reached over for her coke, taking a large drink as she glanced out of the window.

“So tell me, mi Lobo…did you park this far away from everyone else for a reason?” she asked, turning to him.

“Firefly, I resent that accusation…” he said, shifting slightly so he was side on in his seat, facing her, one arm sneaking round the back of her headrest.

“You’re so full of shit…” she looked at him, and he arched an eyebrow.

“Ok, you got me…” he said, his other hand falling to her thigh just above where her long, over-knee socks finished “I just wanted to make sure no one dented the car…” She let out a laugh and he grinned, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers, his hand sliding up over her skin and under the hem of her tartan mini skirt.

“Been driving me crazy sat in the theatre next to you, wearing this…” he muttered into her mouth, as his fingers reached the top of her thighs. She let out a soft moan as she shifted slightly, his hand gently skating over her panty clad core. “I wasn’t concentrating much on the movie.”

“Kinda the point…” she whispered, his eyes locking onto hers.

“You know you give off this sweet, little innocent girl vibe when really you’re nothing but fucking minx…” he mumbled, his lips crashing onto hers as his fingers moved her underwear to one side and he found her hot and wet and so fucking ready. It hadn’t taken him long, as his fingers coaxed her gently he nipped at her neck, lavishing her with the praise and soft dirty talk she loved and just as she’d let out a soft cry of his name and arched her back as she came, wrapping her hand around his wrist, there was a sharp banging on the window which startled them both enough for Ari to jerk upwards, cracking his head on the roof of his car.

“Fuck!”  he said, massaging his head before he moved as Hannah straightened her clothing and he wound his window down.  

“Officer…” he greeted the Cop who looked at him, then to Hannah, then to the back of the car and Ari glanced around, spotting for the first time that the windows had misted up. “We were errr…” “I know exactly what you were doing…” The officer looked at him “Take it home kids.”

“Kids…” Ari scoffed, watching him go. “I’m twenty-fucking-eight!”

Hannah laughed, “Must be your boyish good looks Lobo…”

“I’m not a boy, as well you know Firefly…” he shot her a look as he readjusted his pants and turned on the ignition to the car.

“Awww, would it make you feel better if I stroked your ego and told you that you were all man?” “You can stroke somethin’…” he quipped, shooting her a dirty grin as he pulled out of the parking lot and she laughed, and turned those blue eyes on him as they flashed in the dim street lighting.

“Well take me home and I will.” Yeah, he remembered that very well. And thanks to that memory, his not so little problem from yesterday morning was well on it’s way to reappearing.

"Well, I imagine with the sand and the dust around the place, getting the windows as steamy as we did then would be a challenge." he said, clearing his throat.

Hannah gave a laugh "We nearly got arrested.”

“Why break the habit of a lifetime, sweetheart?” he laughed and Hannah shook her head as her chuckles subsided and she once more fell silent.

Ari glanced at her again before he turned his eyes back to the road. It wasn’t long after that, 2 nights in fact, that following the Surgery Inauguration Party Sammy had turned up on his doorstep and punched him in the jaw, warning him off. Lost in his own thought, he nearly missed the almost whisper from Hannah a little while later when she spoke again.

"Thank you."

Ari frowned "What for firefly?"

"For backing me up with Simon." she turned to look at him.

“Like, shall I count the amount of times you backed me up since we came here?" 

"I backed you up those times Lobo because you were right." she shrugged.

"Yeah, well and so were you about Simon." he said simply, his eyes back on the road.

"Well thanks anyway..."

"You're welcome Han. Besides, I kinda like him." he said, smiling at her.

At that she gave a snort "Sammy doesn't."

Ari rubbed at his eye, “Sammy doesn't like anyone, well not at the moment."

She let out a cheeky laugh, before she grinned and Ari looked at her again "That's part of the reason I wanted to keep him." she said, drawing a loud laugh from him.

****

Jake entered the reception area in his diving gear and was about to say something but shut it closed when he realised only Rachel and Jake were there sorting some schedule for the following day.

"Where the hell is Hannah?" he asked them, his hands on his hips.

"She went with Ari to Port Sudan." Rachel deadpanned without taking her eyes from the folder.

"What the fuck?” Jake cursed, making both Rachel and Max lift their eyes to look at him. "I was gonna take her diving..."

Not missing the whiney tone to his voice, Max vaulted over the reception counter and put an arm round Jake "Come on man, I'll tell you a story..."

They walked towards the seafront part of the resort, the dog behind them. Hannah had instructed Max to babysit Simon while she was away. In fact her exact words had been to take care of her puppy and keep it as far away from Sammy as possible. As long as he didn't turn his whiney bitch mode on, in which case Max was fully allowed to unleash the dog on Sammy having been told by Ari about his little growling incident before. 

Max explained to Jake everything he needed to know about the big fuck up that had taken place nearly nine years before and which was still altering their lives. Jake listened carefully, slack-jawed as he ran a hand over his face from time to time.

"Whoaa, talk about a fucked up story." was all Jake could muster as realisation of what had been happening in front of his own eyes hit him. "So, Ari and Hanna..." he trailed and Max nodded in reply.

Then they abruptly stopped talking realizing Simon was gone. They looked around, turning and walking frantically, searching for the dog but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Cracker is so gonna kill us…” Max groaned as they ran back to the resort. "Have any of you seen the dog? We can't find him." he asked, bending over his body and panting as they emerged into the reception area.

"What?" Rachel shrieked.

"We got distracted for a minute and bam, he gone. We lost him." Jake explained as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What the fuck do you mean you lost him?" Rachel asked fuming. "Find him.  Now!"

"Yeah, you better do it fast before mama bear comes back and rips your head off." Sammy snorted. He would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the show Dumb and Dumber were putting on.

"Yeah mama bear and wolf daddy." Max laughed.

Both Sammy and Jake glared at Max.

"Let's have a look around the buildings." Jake said, still pissed at Max's comment. He hadn't forgotten the fact that Hannah had bailed on him. That said, he was still quite fond of his head so didn’t want to give her any excuse to be pissed at him, so together they headed out looking for the dog at the front side of the resort but there wasn't any trace of him there either.

 "You know it's a stray..." Jake sighed "He could have just fucked off home..."

"Yeah, I think he did...look" Max said, pointing to Simon who was stood outside Hannah's hut just like he was chilling. He looked at them, his ears pricking up, almost in a greeting. Yo guys. 

 "Fucking dog." Jake hissed.

They tried calling him to them, both relieved, but the dog showed no intention of moving from his spot. He just observed the two sweaty men looking at him with squinting eyes and their hands on their hips.

"If he's waiting for Hannah, he won't move." Jake said. "Unless..." and he turned to look at Max with a hopeful grin.

So Max rushed to the kitchen to fetch some food for the dog and quickly came back, showing it to him. Simon then got up and headed over to Max wagging his tail.

"Like, if this is Hannah and Ari's kid..." Jake snorted "Does this make Sammy his uncle?" he asked as Max fed the dog.

 "Grumpy uncle..." Max snorted, looking at Jake.

"Then you must be food uncle..." Jake offered and Max grinned satisfied with his title. “What am I?”

“Shit shirt uncle?” Max quipped, as Jake shot him a look before the three of them headed back to the main building.

****

Ari had to hand it to Hannah, she hadn’t lost a shred of that tenacity she’d possessed years ago. She was currently stood in a little pet shop on the high street describing Simon to the man behind the counter. The guy spoke really bad English, but had given a yell to someone who had wandered through from the back, who was now attempting to translate.

“No, no hair…” Hannah was saying “Grey, with pink patches…big ears.” “Ahhh…nem, nem!” The man said, and he hurried out from behind the counter and gestured for Hannah to follow him. Ari watched as she did, and he pulled a book from one of the shelves and thumbed through until he found the page.

“Yeah!” Hannah grinned, giving him a thumbs up “Sukran…” The man beamed and nodded, leaving her with the book whilst he went to ring up the total for the dog bowls, the basket bed, food, collar and leash Hannah had picked out.

“You find him?” Ari asked.

“Yup.” she said, as he looked over her shoulder at the page. “He’s an Abyssinian Sand Terrier, also known as an African Hairless dog…” “Sand Terrier is much better.” Ari said, “Makes him sound much more mysterious…” “Says here they are fearless, loyal and willing to please…” Hannah mused.

“Sounds like someone I know.” Ari quipped and Hannah looked at him, rolling her eyes with a small smile on her face as she closed the book on Dog Breeds and placed it back on the shelf. She moved to the counter and pulled out her purse but Ari gently placed his hand on hers and shook his head.

“I’ll get it…” “Ari, no,it’s…” “I’m gonna ring it through on expenses.” Ari grinned “He’s a guest after all…” She looked at him before she shrugged “Good luck explaining that to Ethan.” “I think Ethan would like him, like Max said, they both have the same amount of hair.” Hannah laughed and Ari grinned and he paid the man, giving him a tip as a thanks for his help before they gathered the things and headed back to the car. They placed the stuff in the back and Hannah went to the passenger side to climb in, but Ari stopped her when he spoke.

“Whilst we’re here, why don’t we head to the Souk and then the market? I’m not in any particular rush to get back…that is unless you want to?” “No, a walk sounds good.” She smiled, her hands shifting to the scarf that was round her head, making sure it was adjusted properly.

Together they made their way through the relatively busy dusty street and found themselves in a large market place, which led in turn to smaller alleys off which the found the various Souks and Bazars. Ari allowed Hannah to direct, as they spent a bit of time looking at the clothing and the jewellery, a particular piece caught Ari’s attention due to the shape but before he could say anything Hannah’s focus was on a perfume stall which seemed like you could basically mix your own. After smelling a few components, some nice, some really not, they wandered back to the market place and there they spent a little more time at the food stalls. It was fun, they walked around, taking the free samples of the local breads, cheeses, meats and fruits they were offered along with pastries and sauces and dips…and once they’d decided what they liked at Ari’s suggestion they picked up a selection as a treat for the team later when they settled down for their usual end of day chat and drinks. Ari felt encouraged when Hannah agreed, that she was amenable to actually being round a table with Max and Sammy gain gave him hope that she was feeling a little less hostile towards the pair of them.

On their way back they passed a local café and Hannah stopped and asked Ari if they could grab a drink. Given that they’d been in the heat and sun most of the afternoon he conceded it was probably a good idea and they settled at a table, Ari lighting up a cigarette as they drank some form of sweet, iced tea. Hannah made some joke about how Max would be pissed about missing out on free food samples and Ari grinned, agreeing. For the most part, however, he was silent, simply letter her talk as he was happy she was relaxing and the Firefly he knew was coming back to him. It wasn’t just that though, his mind was clouding a little as she was stirring deep feelings, emotions he had been trying to ignore since she admitted the other night that she had loved him.

It had shocked him, it truly had. As it was something that neither of them had ever said to one another, they’d never admitted to the feelings being that strong.

And now he was kicking himself for not doing so when he had the chance.

Mind you, to do so he would have had to have admitted it to himself and at the time he hadn’t. The old adage of not knowing what you had till it was gone had never been more apt.

“We should probably go if we want to get back to help with Dinner Service” Hannah said softly, glancing at her watch “Damned it…is that the right time?”

She held her wrist out and Ari then glanced at his and shook his head “No, it’s short by 30 minutes…”

She groaned “I only set it again this morning. Think it’s on its way out. Mind you, what do you expect when it only costs you 5 bucks huh?” “So it’s not a real Tag?” Ari raised an eyebrow, teasing and she gave him a look of mock indignance.

“That is a genuine fake I’ll have you know, Lobo.” she snorted before she sighed “I’ll get one, one day.”

Ari tossed down some money, thanked the guy who had served them and they headed back to the truck. As they made their way back, the sun was starting to dip, and with it Hannah’s mood as the closer they got to the Resort, the more withdrawn she started to get again.

"Do you regret it?" she suddenly blurted out.

"What?" he frowned.

"Regret being with me all those years ago?"

“Hannah…” he sighed “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Raking over it all…” “Because I don’t understand Ari.” She looked at him, “Before on the beach, when you said you were sorry…I just wonder sometimes if...” she trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, forget it.” “It clearly does matter.” Ari said, his voice carrying a level of frustration. “Spit it out.” “If I’d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Ari took a deep breath. "Han I hate the way we ended, I really do...and it tears me apart thinking about why it happened and there's a part of me that will never forgive Sammy for what he did, but he did it because he thought he was protecting you, and I know that doesn’t make it ok..." He cut her protests off before she could launch into another rant about her brother, continuing as he attempted to get his point across. “But I knew he was right. I wasn’t good for you. I was a selfish asshole, still am according to you remember?”

“I shouldn’t’ have said that…” she dropped her gaze to her hands which were clasped in her lap.

“But you’re right.” he shrugged “So I didn’t fight because I believed what Sammy was saying, I still do in some ways but do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

His words hit Hannah like a lightning bolt as she turned everything over in her mind. Over the course of less than 3 days she’d gone from believing that Ari had left because things were getting too serious for him and that he had gotten what he wanted and so cast her aside, to then believing that he had in fact been warned off by her brother and didn't fight because he didn't care enough but now she truly understood. He actually believed everything that Sammy had said. He genuinely thought he wasn’t good enough for her. So had done what in his mind was right, broken her heart to save it in the long term.

“I suppose it worked out for you in the end.” she said gently “You found Sarah, had Maya.”

Ari sighed “Yeah, and I wouldn’t change any of that in the world…but you know, you got Andy…”

He instantly knew he had said the wrong thing as her face darkened again and she looked out of the window.

"Han, don't be too angry at him..." he pressed.

"Angry? I'm fucking furious Ari.” she turned to him, tears in her eyes “I feel betrayed...like...well, my entire relationship happened because he broke us up. It’s like the whole thing was a fucking sham." 

"Don't say that." Ari shook his head "You loved him Hannah, and he did what he did for a reason. He loved you."

"Well I loved someone else back then." she wiped at her face "And he hardly knew me either at that point so he didn't have a right to do anything. It's like he saw me as some prize to be won in some fucked up competition"

“Hey, come on…” he reached out for her left hand which had fallen to her knee and he gave it a quick squeeze “I know it hurts, and I know you’re angry but everyone did what they did because they thought it was right.” “It should have been my choice though Ari.” she looked at him, shaking her head “And you all took that choice away from me whether you meant to or not.” “I know, and I’m sorry…” “I know, I know.” she said softly “And I believe you, I do…” she took a deep breath and she shook her head “Suppose you’re right…not like we can change any of it anyway, unless you’re hiding a TARDIS somewhere...” “Sorry Firefly, you’re The Doctor not me.” She looked at him, before her face creased up and she let out a huge howl of laughter.

Thankfully, the conversation took a lighter turn, Ari getting the impression that Hannah was as tired of being angry and bitter about things as he was and he hoped that she was ready to stop torturing herself over the past. He hated seeing her so upset and withdrawn.

Eventually they got to the resort and once the car had stopped, Hannah climbed out and grinned as Simon came trotting over to greet them, his tail wagging furiously. As Hannah stooped to greet him, Ari was pondering at how the dog seemed to actually be that bonded with her already considering she had found him only that morning, when his attention went to Sammy and Rachel who were emerging from the side entrance.

“Where the hell have you been? You've been gone for hours.”

"Hello to you too Sammy..." Ari rolled his eyes

"I didn't realise we were being timed" Hannah stood up and folded her arms. "Did I miss my curfew?" she asked sarcastically. "Ignore him." Rachel shot Sammy a look before she walked towards the truck where Hannah was now reaching into the back for the bags.

"Gladly" Hannah mumbled. Rachel took one of the bags from her, looking inside and immediately started cooing over the stuff they had bought, informing them that it looked great. Hannah started to tell her all about the fabrics and the perfumes at the souks as they walked inside, Simon mooching behind them.

Ari watched them go, ignoring Sammy and then smiling at Jake who had also emerged to help.

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah…thanks.” Ari said as Jake grabbed the bag of dog biscuits. Ari tossed the smaller pet items into the basket before he removed it from the truck, shutting the door with his hip. He nodded at Max who was leaning in the doorway eating a sandwich as he entered the resort.

“Where do you want this Firefly?” he asked. She turned to face him and placed the bag she was carrying down, fishing in her pocket.

“Can you take them to my hut?” “Sure.” She crossed towards him, placed the key in the basket he was carrying and he gave her a smile as he headed back outside and down to the hut that was 2 along from his. Unlocking the door he walked inside, placed the basket on her bed and stood up, taking a quick look around. The familiar vanilla notes he associated with her surrounded him and he simply took a deep breath before he turned to go, which was when he noticed that there was frame on her bed side table which was face down. He knew he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help himself and he gently picked it up. It was a photo of her and Andy in her Mama’s garden. Hannah was sat on his knee, smiling at the camera as Andy gently kissed her cheek. Fuck, she’d really, really taken what the man had done badly.

Captain fucking obvious, Levinson….

He understood where she was coming from, he really did, but she’d been happy with Andy. He had been a good guy, what he had done was selfish but he wasn’t a selfish man, not by nature…hell, he’d given his own life to save Ari’s…but as he stood there, Ari suddenly started to wonder whether there had been more to that. Had Andy felt some sort of guilt?

No, no. It had been a split, in the moment decision, one any agent would do for another. That was all.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, he replaced the photo so that it wouldn’t appear to have been moved and left, locking the door behind him and heading back to the dining area.

As usual everyone chipped in to help serve dinner to the guests, and then that was it. Their duties over for the day and they were free to do what they wanted. As the Guests started to thin out, either heading to the beach or to their huts the staff-slash-agents retreated to a table outside with a bottle of wine and the stuff Ari and Hannah had brought back. The chat was easy and it was comfortable, which Ari was thankful for. Rachel, in her full Angela role informed them they were booked now until the start of April, at which point Ari, or Guy, nodded and suggested that might be a good time to go scouting again for more diving locations…in other words, their next mission. They all nodded, and he agreed he would clear it upon his trip back to the US (Israel) to chat to their sponsors (Ethan).

“Well, before we go scouting anywhere…” Max spoke, in his Irving voice “It’s Rosa’s 30th…” There were subdued cheers around the table, and Hannah groaned.

“Don’t remind me…” she said, her accent impeccable as always.

“You know we should throw a party…” Sammy said “A proper beach one, like they do back home, in Aus…” Hannah looked at him, and then shook her head. Rachel looked at her “Oh come on!” “A party could be fun, Red.” Jake grinned at her and she sighed.

“Fine, but I am not going naked diving.” she pointed at him “Regardless of whether it’s a birthday tradition in the diving world…” “Isn’t that a 100th Dive Tradition?” Ari looked at Jake, raising an eyebrow. Jake shrugged, mischievously.

“You lying bastard!” Hannah scoffed, slapping his arm. Jake grinned and she shook her head.

“And on that note, I’m calling it a night.” he yawned “I have a double diving tour tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I should really sort some paper work too, ready for the check out tomorrow.” Rachel said, as they both stood up. Jake bid them all goodnight and Rachel headed into the resort, presumably to the office just behind the reception desk. Hannah watched as Sammy’s eyes trailed after her for a second before he too sighed and said he was heading to bed leaving Max, Hannah and Ari at the table. Hannah glanced down at Simon who sat up at the commotion, cocking his head to the side, his blue collar settled on his neck.

“Think I’ll take Simon for a little walk before bed” she rose from her seat. “Night boys.” “Good night Cracker.” Max smiled.

“Night.” Ari nodded and with that she left.

Ari watched her walk off down the sand. Simon trotting at her heels. The loose, pale yellow top she was wearing blew slightly in the breeze as she walked, barefoot and bare legged thanks to those navy blue shorts…

He turned to Max, the two of them striking up a conversation about Port Sudan, until Ari suddenly interrupted, unable to get the thought that had sprung up as Hannah walked off out of his mind.

“Think she’ll be ok?” Ari turned to Max. Max simply looked at him. “Hannah, you know, with the military being around…” Max considered Ari for a moment before he leaned forward “Why don’t you go keep an eye on her?”

“No, I don’t think she’d appreciate it.” Ari shook his head.

“She might.” Max shrugged.

Ari looked at him again, before he gave a nod and headed out. He couldn’t see Hannah, but he had a good idea where she would be, he remembered her talking about the cave she had found Simon in, just at the curve of the cove. He made his way over, exhaling cigarette smoke and smiled as he realised he was right when Simon came bounding out from behind a rock to greet him.

 "Hey pal..." he said softly before he stopped at the entrance to the cave.

Hannah looked up at him, giving him a small smile as the dim light sparkled in her eyes.

"This isn't walking Firefly." Ari smiled, leaning against the rocky wall of the cave by the entrance as he looked down at her. 

"I walked here didn't I?" she raised an eyebrow. 

"Want me to leave you alone?" he asked, fully aware she had hidden in there for a reason. He’d got what he wanted, to know she was safe, so he was perfectly happy to let her be.

"You can sit if you want." she shrugged "But you can put that out before you step into my secret den…” He smiled and stubbed his cigarette out before he ducked into the rock cluster, sitting beside her.

“So, what you up to? Actually, no let me guess thinking..." he said and she gave a soft huff, shrugging “You know I meant what I said before, don't you ever wanna switch off your brain and just stop for a while?"

"Yup." she nodded “But it’s never that simple though is it?"

"Nothing is Simple." Ari sighed "I wish it was.

"I managed it for a bit today." Hannah looked at him. "Switching off I mean. When we were in the market and stuff...it was nice."

"Yeah, yeah it was Firefly." he agreed

She looked at him and smiled "I like that."

"You like what?”

"When you call me Firefly, not Hannah or Han."

"You'll always be Firefly to me." he shrugs "Although Hannah is your actual name, so..."

"Sorry, you mean Rosa Maria, Guy.”

Ari chuckled as did she. "I think we needed that" he smiled.

"Needed what?”

"A smile, and a laugh...chance to be away from it all for a little while." he looked at her.

"Maybe, like I said today was nice. Tonight was nice too...things have gone a bit overboard since we came back from the mission."

"You're telling me." He agreed.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the moonlight on the water as a slight gust of wind blew in from the Ocean, ruffling Ari’s hair slightly. He felt Hannah give a little shiver besides him and he looked at her as she tucked her knees into her chest. He hesitated for a second before he passed his arm over her shoulder.

"If I was wearing a jacket I'd offer it to you..." he nodded to the goose-bumps on her arm as explanation for his display of affection, fully expecting her to push him away but she didn’t.

"This is fine." she shrugged "Thanks”

"You're saying that a lot today Firefly." he looked at her before his attention went to Simon who was digging in the sand at the mouth of the cave, his tail wagging furiously.

"Well, you know, mama always told me to give thanks when it’s due so..."

"Good advice" he nodded.

“Seriously though, thank you Ari…” she looked at him for a moment before leaning up and kissing his cheek. 

He turned his head to look at her and her face was so close to his. “You’re welcome” he whispered, swallowing slightly and her eyes flickered down to his lips. It was quick, and had he blinked he would have missed it. But he didn't...and once more he was catapulted back to the night of her 21st outside the club.

The internal conflict that had been raging inside him back then reared once more with vengeance only this time it wasn’t just about Sammy. There was Andy and everything else that had happened over the past few days, and her question from before rang around his head, silencing the voices... 

“If I’d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Whilst he couldn’t answer that, because he honestly didn’t know, he did know one thing. He didn’t regret them being together, at all.

“…do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

And he would, one and a million fucking times over regardless of how it worked out, because he'd rather have had her for those few months than never at all.

He was aware she still hadn’t moved, her eyes were bouncing across his, like she was waiting for him to decide what he wanted, what he was going to do…so he did. His lips brushed hers, in a soft, gentle kiss, their noses bumping together slightly. And she didn't pull away. His arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer, his lips gliding over hers, the kiss deepening slightly. She was mimicking his movements, reciprocating, her tongue sliding against his and fuck he was in heaven, his stomach full of those familiar knots, until she pulled away, dropping her head slightly, her hand on his chest.

"Ari..I..." her voice was raspy, her chest rising and falling deeply as was his. And he shook his head before he pressed it to hers.

“I know.” he sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s not your fault” she said softly.

He looked at her before he moved his arm from round her, running his hand through his hair as he sat back, shaking his head, looking down at his hands. There was a moment or two of silence, Ari mentally cursing himself again for being an idiot before Hannah spoke.

“I need to go…it’s late and I didn’t sleep much last night." she looked at him “Wanna walk me back?” He looked at her, noticing that she was smiling and he gave a soft laugh.

“Sure…come on.”

He stood up, ducking again as the cave wasn’t tall enough to accommodate his full height and held his hand out to help her up. She took it, and once she was stood, she didn’t let go.

**** “Have you seen Hannah?” Rachel asked, walking back out onto the patio “I need to ask her something about the Spanish guests.”

“She left for a walk.” Max said, looking up from the piece of drift wood he had been whittling into shape. As Rachel made to go find her, he suddenly realised he had sent Ari before and hastily stood up. “I’ll go, see if I can find her.” he offered.

Rachel smiled “Thanks.”

Max walked over the sand, down in the direction Hannah had headed in and then paused as he saw them in the distance, slowly making their way back towards the resort, hand in hand. Smiling to himself, Max turned to head back, giving one last glance over his shoulder at which point he saw them both stop at Hannah’s hut. Hannah looked up at Ari who wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled back, smiled and headed into her room with Simon. Ari paused as the door closed, his head dropping a little as his hand ran through his hair before he headed towards his own accommodation.

Max made his way back to the dining area and wanderd inside to the bar, pouring himself a scotch.

“Did you find her?”

He spun to look at Rachel and shook his head “Nah, no sign. Must have gone to bed”

She looked at him before nodding “Ok, it can wait until tomorrow. I’m turning in myself now then. You ok to shut up here when you’re done?” Max nodded and watched Rachel go before he resumed his previous position at the table, picking up his carving, a soft smile playing on his face.

This time, he wasn’t saying shit about what he’d seen.

**** Chapter 6

[scarofthewind]

The Lost Boys (1987) || Always

A/N: I gave up on my homework for the night because I had this idea in my head. Anyway, I am going to write some trash that no one will read or like for tonight and then worry about my future like always. Hope you enjoy.                                               _______________

What they are self-conscious about as vampires 

MARKO: Everyday that you were with Marko, only made you realize that he didn’t touch you like how normal couples did. He never had a hand on your knee or an arm around your shoulder. He barely even kissed you for longer than a second. For a while you thought that maybe he was just shy but that thought was tossed when you had tried to snuggle close to him during a movie and he moved away. You ended up making an excuse to leave the date early. You were hurt that he felt he couldn’t touch you or be normal around you and you wanted to know why. So, you cornered him. 

Being a vampire was useful to catch things before it happened, however, Marko did not expect you to grab him by the collar and drag him away from the others to give him the longest argument you two had ever been in. 

“It’s a very simple answer, Marko.”

“No it’s not!” He replied, rubbing his face with his hands. “It’s not even that big of a deal!” He shut his mouth seeing your reaction to his words. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You don’t touch me at all Marko. It’s like I’ve got the plague or something. No holding hands, no kissing, no having you close to me. It’s distancing and I hate it.” Marko knew it would eventually get to you. He hated himself for it; but he hated making you uncomfortable even more. 

“I’m dead, (Y/N).” He answered, catching you off guard. 

You waited a moment before replying, “I am well aware of that, where is this going?” You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he sat down across from you. 

“I don’t produce heat. I’m literally cold to the touch and the first time I touched your hand you pulled away.” Marko cleared his throat and you finally understand. “I thought I made you uncomfortable so I told myself that I wouldn’t touch you.” 

“But then you overthought it, didn’t you?” You asked, sitting down with him and reaching out to move some curls of hair from is forehead. 

He nodded, “I began to realize that I couldn’t be useful whenever it’s cold. Waking up next to you first thing in the morning would be miserable. No warmth. Just....cold.” His eyes stayed looking at the ground and you shook your head. 

“I love you, Marko. I always will and nothing with change that.” You watched as he smiled softly and you kissed him. “But you are the dumbest person I’ve ever met.” You grabbed his hands and placed them on your face, cupping your cheeks. Marko flinched at first, worried he might feel like ice against your warm skin, but eventually his fingers traces your cheekbones and other features; his thumb touching your bottom lip before he pulled you close. 

DWAYNE: You stomped around your house all day long waiting for a reasonable explanation as to why your lover hadn’t come to see you yet. You and Dwayne had dinner dates planned once every week and this wasn’t the first time he’d missed one. You stuffed the cold food you’d made into the trash, watching as a beam of light made its way to your driveway. Scoffing, you shook your head and closed the kitchen curtains, turning your back on the man who was getting off his motorcycle when you opened the front door. 

“I have an explanation-”

“Four hours, seventeen minutes and twenty-three seconds.” You checked your watch and then stared at him, arms crossed. “You have no reason to be late. Again.”

“I do and if you let me explain, then I will tell you.” He sighed, walking up to you.

“I’m tired of excuses Dwayne. If you don’t want to do these things anymore than we don’t have to.” You sighed, moving out of the doorway and into the house; Dwayne hot on your tail. 

“That’s not at all what I want.” He panicked, shutting the door behind him and following you through the house. “I was helping-”

“The boys? With some ‘stuff’.” You quoted him, watching his hands curl into fists in defeat. “Are you seeing someone else?” You asked, your chest aching at the thought. 

“God no! I would never do that to you!” He replied, moving closer to you and cupping your face in his hands. 

“Then why are you standing me up?” You stared up at him and watched as his face twisted in discomfort. You realized that it might be more serious than you had imagined. “I love you,” You said, lightly touching his hands. “Whatever is going on, you can tell me.”

Dwayne searched your face for a moment before nodding, “I can’t eat normal food, which you know. I am grateful for these nights where you let me feed off of you but,” the boy sighed, taking his hands away from your face and running a hand through his long hair. “It’s not enough.”

“Then take more.” You offered.

“Absolutely not. I can barely control myself as it is to pull away when I am slightly satisfied.” Dwayne moved to sit on the armrest of the sofa and you sat next to him on the cushion. Placing a hand on his arm you get him to look at you. “I’m worried that you won’t want me if you ever saw how I eat. I get ugly in the face and I become unstoppable when hungry enough. I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Shaking your head you move to kiss is cheek. “I have never been afraid of you and I will never be.” Dwayne smiles softly and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “But maybe talk to me about it next time, don’t hold it in until we fight.” You pinched his cheek and he laughed, pressing is lips against yours. 

PAUL: The rain was drowning the flowers you had just planted outside the other day. You watched from your kitchen window as the rain came down so hard, you couldn’t see past your front gate. With a sigh, you finished the dishes and went to the living room, nearly screaming when Paul came around the corner with a smirk on his face. 

“Did I scare you?” He chuckled and you swatted at him. 

“You are completely soaked! Don’t stand on my rug I just vacuumed it!” You pushed him off to the bathroom to let him change. 

“I finally have time to see you and you don’t even give me a welcome home kiss? That’s harsh (Y/N).” He commented from the bathroom as you flopped down on your bed. You stared at the ceiling, a weird feeling drowning out his idle talk. 

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, appearing above you, his eyes held a tint of worry. Reaching up, you pushed you hands through his hair to get it out of his face. 

“I should be asking you that. You aren’t feeling well right now are you?” You knew Paul was never one to express his emotions out in the open, but by the look deep in his eyes, he was about to crack. 

“I noticed it a few weeks ago.” You answered his question as to how you managed to guess that something was wrong. He thought he did a good job covering it up. “You can tell me, Paul. Being in touch with your emotions isn’t-”

“Stop.” His voice wavered as he moved away from you. “I should just head back.” You watched as his fingers twitched and his hands shook. This was hard for him. But it was also hard for you. You missed his normal attitude, his touches and kisses. He was growing weary of something and you had a pretty good idea of what it was. Sitting up, you dangled your feet off the edge of the bed and found yourself looking out the window. 

“I’m sorry you think you have to do this by yourself.” Paul looked at you from the doorway of the bedroom. All it took was seeing tears falling from your eyes and he broke. “Am I wasting my time with you?” You asked, watching as he closed his mouth, jaw clenching tightly. “Were all my friends right in saying that you will never love me as much as I love you?” 

“(Y/N)-”

“If you can’t tell me what’s going on then why bother? You clearly don’t feel comfortable enough with me that you will talk to me.” 

“That’s not true!” He argued, stepping closer to you.

“Then tell me what it is!” You yelled back. 

“I’m scared of losing you!” Paul snapped, his chest heaving and his voice cracking. He was too close to crying for his own comfort. 

“What do you mean?” You asked calmly. 

“Whenever I think of the future, I know I will always be this way.” He motioned to his body meaning he wouldn’t change physically. “I won’t age, but I will have to watch you grow old without me. Watching you die will kill me.”

You hugged him. 

“You can’t think about the future and let it bother you. Think of what we are now.” You looked up at him and cupped his face. “I can’t lie and say that I have never thought of it either, but I am with you now and to me that’s all that matters.” 

“I’m sorry.” Paul rested his forehead against yours and pulled you against him. “I never wanted to turn you so bad in my life when I thought about what could happen. I want to be with you forever.”

You smiled, “Who knows, maybe I will let you in the near future.” Paul smiled back and pressed his lips to yours. 

“Your friends really say that about me?” He asked and you laughed, nodding. “You know I love you right?” He replied.

“I do.” You nodded again, watching as a familiar smirk crossed his lips. 

“I think this calls for feel-better sex.” He earned a smack on the head for that. 

DAVID: “What’s wrong?” Your fingers grace over your lover’s chest, before reaching up and playing the ends of his hair. David looks down at you and raises an eyebrow, his fingers rubbing small circles on your back. 

“Why do you ask?” You moved to lay on him, keeping the bed sheet that entangled around the both of you, covering your bodies. You placed your hands on his chest and rest your head on them. 

“You have that far away look in your eyes. You only get that when you’re deep in thought.” David hummed in response, his smile fading away. “Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to pry it out of you?” You responded with a smirk.

David chuckled and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you close and kissing you. “Do you know how much I love the sun.” You raised an eyebrow and he continued, “Before I turned, I was always outside, during the day more than at night. But then when I became a vampire, that was taken away. If I so much as watched the sun rise I’d burn to dust.”

You watched him quietly, gently stroking his cheek. “I miss that. Walking along the beach and letting the warmth tan my pale ass.” You laughed a bit and he smiled. 

“It got worse when I met you; that craving for being outside during the day.” You felt everything he was saying. It did bother you that you couldn’t actually go out and do things with him during the day. 

“I want to spoil you more, but I can’t if all the time we get is at night. I want to be with you in the day, walking along the boardwalk and going out.” David sat up a bit, pulling you up with him and pulling you close. 

“I want to see the sunlight on your skin.” David pressed his forehead against yours. “I don’t want you to think that you can find someone better because I can’t be with you during the day.”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m not going to leave you over something that ridiculous. I mean sure, I would love all of that, but I am fine watching the sun rise from here with you.” The cave had the most excellent view.

David smiled and pressed his lips against yours. “I love you. I’m going to find a way to walk you along the beach during the day, I promise.”

“I love you too.” You giggled, kissing him again, “I’m fine with things the way they are. But I look forward to that day.” David groaned and pushed you down, laying on top of you. “Even though you're dead, you are super heavy!” You laugh and he chuckles from above you. 

[aboveallarescuer]

Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Powerful and Helpless

A hero or villain can have superpowers, fighting skills, knowledge, wealth, power, technology, political and social connections, all of which help them to achieve their goals. But sometimes a situation arises where their power is rendered useless. No, they haven't wandered into the range of a Power Nullifier or been Brought Down to Normal. They don't have Useless Superpowers that regularly fail to work properly. They'll still punch as hard as they normally can, or use their genius intellect to try to think their way out of the problem, or they'll call on all their connections and resources and favors owed, but none of those things matter here.

*

“I have the dragons,” she pointed out.

“Hatchlings,” Ser Jorah said. “One swipe from an arakh would put an end to them, though Pono is more like to seize them for himself. Your dragon eggs were more precious than rubies. A living dragon is beyond price. In all the world, there are only three. Every man who sees them will want them, my queen.”

“They are mine,” she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur. Dany had walked into the flames as they came forth, and they had drunk milk from her swollen breasts. “No man will take them from me while I live.” (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

The Pureborn heard her pleas from the great wooden seats of their ancestors, rising in curved tiers from a marble floor to a high-domed ceiling painted with scenes of Qarth’s vanished glory. The chairs were immense, fantastically carved, bright with goldwork and studded with amber, onyx, lapis, and jade, each one different from all the others, and each striving to be the most fabulous. Yet the men who sat in them seemed so listless and world-weary that they might have been asleep. They listened, but they did not hear, or care, she thought. They are Milk Men indeed. They never meant to help me. They came because they were curious. They came because they were bored, and the dragon on my shoulder interested them more than I did. (ACOK Daenerys III)

~

“I will not throw away Unsullied lives, Grey Worm. Perhaps we can starve the city out.”

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. “We’ll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There’s no 
food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we’ve had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

~

“The city bleeds. Dead men rot unburied in the streets, each pyramid is an armed camp, and the markets have neither food nor slaves for sale. And the poor children! King Cleaver’s thugs have seized every highborn boy in Astapor to make new Unsullied for the trade, though it will be years before they are trained.”

The thing that surprised Dany most was how unsurprised she was. She found herself remembering Eroeh, the Lhazarene girl she had once tried to protect, and what had happened to her. It will be the same in Meereen once I march, she thought. The slaves from the fighting pits, bred and trained to slaughter, were already proving themselves unruly and quarrelsome. They seemed to think they owned the city now, and every man and woman in it. Two of them had been among the eight she’d hanged. There is no more I can do, she told herself. (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

“But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city?” He had no answer to that. Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. “My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.”

“What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo.

“Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.” (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

When Missandei was sound asleep, Dany slipped from her arms and stepped out into the predawn air to lean upon the cool brick parapet and gaze out across the city. A thousand roofs stretched out below her, painted in shades of ivory and silver by the moon.

Somewhere beneath those roofs, the Sons of the Harpy were gathered, plotting ways to kill her and all those who loved her and put her children back in chains. Somewhere down there a hungry child was crying for milk. Somewhere an old woman lay dying. Somewhere a man and a maid embraced, and fumbled at each other’s clothes with eager hands. But up here there was only the sheen of moonlight on pyramids and pits, with no hint what lay beneath. Up here there was only her, alone.

She was the blood of the dragon. She could kill the Sons of the Harpy, and the sons of the sons, and the sons of the sons of the sons. But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman’s pain. And who would ever dare to love a dragon? (ADWD Daenerys II)

~

“Is it true that dragons never stop growing?”

“If they have food enough, and space to grow. Chained up in here, though …”

The Great Masters had used the pit as a prison. It was large enough to hold five hundred men … and more than ample for two dragons. For how long, though? What will happen when they grow too large for the pit? Will they turn on one another with flame and claw? Will they grow wan and weak, with withered flanks and shrunken wings? Will their fires go out before the end?

What sort of mother lets her children rot in darkness? (ADWD Daenerys II)

~

“It is good that you have come,” she told the Astapori. “You will be safe in Meereen.”

The cobbler thanked her for that, and the old brickmaker kissed her foot, but the weaver looked at her with eyes as hard as slate. She knows I lie, the queen thought. She knows I cannot keep them safe. Astapor is burning, and Meereen is next. (ADWD Daenerys V)

~

I have no more help to give, Dany thought, despairing. The Astapori had no place to go. Thousands remained outside Meereen’s thick walls—men and women and children, old men and little girls and newborn babes. Many were sick, most were starved, and all were doomed to die. Daenerys dare not open her gates to let them in. She had tried to do what she could for them. She had sent them healers, Blue Graces and spell-singers and barbersurgeons, but some of those had sickened as well, and none of their arts had slowed the galloping progression of the flux that had come on the pale mare. Separating the healthy from the sick had proved impractical as well. Her Stalwart Shields had tried, pulling husbands away from wives and children from their mothers, even as the Astapori wept and kicked and pelted them with stones. A few days later, the sick were dead and the healthy ones were sick. Dividing the one from the other had accomplished nothing.

Even feeding them had grown difficult. Every day she sent them what she could, but every day there were more of them and less food to give them. It was growing harder to find drivers willing to deliver the food as well. Too many of the men they had sent into the camp had been stricken by the flux themselves. Others had been attacked on the way back to the city. Yesterday a wagon had been overturned and two of her soldiers killed, so today the queen had determined that she would bring the food herself. Every one of her advisors had argued fervently against it, from Reznak and the Shavepate to Ser Barristan, but Daenerys would not be moved. “I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.” (ADWD Daenerys VI)

~

Bless me, Dany thought bitterly. Your city is gone to ash and bone, your people are dying all around you. I have no shelter for you, no medicine, no hope. Only stale bread and wormy meat, hard cheese, a little milk. Bless me, bless me.

What kind of mother has no milk to feed her children? (ADWD Daenerys VI)

~

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

“It is only for a little while more, my love,” Hizdahr had assured her. “The Yunkai’i will soon be gone, and their allies and hirelings with them. We shall have all we desired. Peace, food, trade. Our port is open once again, and ships are being permitted to come and go.”

“They are permitting that, yes,” she had replied, “but their warships remain. They can close their fingers around our throat again whenever they wish. They have opened a slave market within sight of my walls!” (ADWD Daenerys VIII)

~

The Brazen Beasts did as they were bid. Dany watched them at their work. “Those bearers were slaves before I came. I made them free. Yet that palanquin is no lighter.”

“True,” said Hizdahr, “but those men are paid to bear its weight now. Before you came, that man who fell would have an overseer standing over him, stripping the skin off his back with a whip. Instead he is being given aid.”

It was true. A Brazen Beast in a boar mask had offered the litter bearer a skin of water. “I suppose I must be thankful for small victories,” the queen said.

“One step, then the next, and soon we shall be running. Together we shall make a new Meereen.” The street ahead had finally cleared. “Shall we continue on?”

What could she do but nod? One step, then the next, but where is it I’m going? (ADWD Daenerys IX)

[mwolf0epsilon]

Can you write a short dark fic for the pairing Joey x Henry, where after Henry threatens to leave the studio, Joey snaps and kidnaps Henry and turns Henry into a perfect Boris or Bendy so that Henry would never leave his side, please?

Summary: Joey Drew couldn't ever take 'No' for an answer, much less when it came from the object of his ill-fated obcession.

---

[[MORE]]

When brought into the world children were never inherently cruel. They were curious and blunt, which often resulted in uncomfortable situations for those they interacted with, but overall younglings were empathetic at heart until reshaped and redefined into something otherwise.

The world was a terrible influence after all, and it could marr even the purest of things.

There were exceptions to this rule however…

Joey Drew had certainly been a curious kid. Unabashedly blunt too, with how often his innocent words cut deep into both his parents and peers.

But not once did he empathise enough with others to be considered a kind child.

If anything, most others his age had steered clear from his company, finding the mellow kid with the great big toothy smile to be unsettling on an instinctive level. Children were, after all, capable of sensing evil. Even in its stages of infancy.

So imagine everyone's surprise (Joey's included) when Henry Stein decided to befriend the town's most infamous little black sheep.

Kind bleeding heart that he was, Henry had thought it unfair that others would judge another as strongly as they judged Joey, so he'd taken it upon himself to make the kid next door's life a little less lonesome.

Give him what he surely needed: A good and caring friend.

Needless to say, he regretted that decision more than anything in the world...

It hadn't always been so bad. Once Joey had actually been a friend to him, and cared enough to look after Henry when he'd most needed.

Now however? Now Henry could barely recognize the monster behind that unnerving grin...

The burning selfish desires in those sapphire blues, hidden behind an half-lidded expression that was reserved to feign a serene and caring persona…

As charming and handsome as Joey looked (because he'd always been unnaturally pretty, even when going through the awkward stages of puberty), Henry couldn't help find his apathetic and selfish nature abominably hideous.

Especially now as he brought him the results of yet another failed experiment.

"I'm getting closer dear friend." He held the snapping, snarling little beast at arm's length, this failed mockery of Edgar barely looking like the adorable cartoon spider he was meant to be. "Soon I'll be able to make you perfect, and then we'll be back together as the dynamic duo we always were..."

Henry shuddered at the thought, tightly curling in on himself as he watched Joey end the poor creature's miserable existence. His bowl where his meals were served clattering loudly, as the inky heart of the slain critter was tossed onto it with precision. A mimicry of flesh thumping against the metal with a wet splat.

He fought back the urge to cry as he felt his mouth water.

"Eat up my loyal wolf… We can't be wasteful." Joey's cruel smile almost ruined his appetite. Almost. "Don't worry, this wasn't anyone you knew…"

With that said, Joey left him to greedily consume the offering.

Looking in the bowl's reflective surface once he'd licked it clean, Henry found that he could barely recognize himself anymore.

His stretched out face progressively becoming less and less humanoid as he was fed the experimental failures of Joey's horrid machine, and his pale hair having long since turned black and begun to spread.

He looked like what one would envision Boris the Wolf to look like in some lovecraftian fever dream. Dressed in ill-fitting ripped clothing, and barely able to balance a pair of cracked glasses on the bridge of his elongated nose.

An inhuman beast that fed off of the misfortune of others, losing his humanity as time passed on by.

He wondered if he'd forget himself eventually. If he'd forget that the devil in disguise that was Joey Drew was to blame for his malformations.

If one day he'd actually grow to love his captor in the same manner that Stolkholm syndrome victims tended to do, once brainwashed into submission by their abusers?

Another shudder forced a garbled whimper out of his deformed face.

To whatever god that could hear his broken pleas, he sure hoped not.

Henry didn't want to give Joey what he wanted.

Not when that monster of a man had taken him away from his family to keep as some sort of freak show pet.

Playing some sick version of house with the "puppy" he sustained on a cannibalistic diet. Disgusting.

Curling up, Henry cried himself to sleep. Thinking of his wife and children.

Missing them terribly while locked up in the bowels of Joey's demented studio.

-

The Ink Demon wasn't bad company, Henry had found. It seemed to understand his pain on a level no other creature did, offering him what little compassion it could whenever Joey dropped by with more "food".

It feared and loathed that devil of a man just as much as Henry did, and it knew to be kind despite never once being treated with the same sort of respect.

The one positive of this odd kinship between the two, was that Joey seemed pleased by them forming the sort of bond Bendy and Boris had. Thus never getting in between their interactions.

"One day soon, it'll all be just as I envisioned." He'd purr as he pinned the bound inky wolf to the ground, touching Henry in a way that made him want to gag, and rip the rat bastard's throat out with his horrific set of doggish teeth. "Just a little more and you'll be perfect."

He didn't want to be perfect.

All Henry wanted was to kill Joey Drew and go home.

"But first, I have a surprise for you." A surprise that came right after this twisted display of "affection". This gross invasion of the abominable wolf's personal bubble.

Joey presented him with an absolutely Perfect Boris.

Overalls, pie cut eyes, soft velvety fuzz and all… no signs of dripping or asymmetrical proportions.

The terror in those eyes however… it was all too human.

"I told you I'd find a way to reach perfection. Once I've finished tweaking the process you'll be just as perfect as him… Maybe more." Joey purred. "I miss your voice after all, dearest friend. Until then I give you this fearful pup to do with as you wish."

Upon his tormentor's departure, the cartoon wolf scrambled away from Henry. Shaking like a leaf and whining pitifully.

A child, Joey had converted a child…

Hell hath no fury like the righteous rage of a scorned father.

That bastard would pay for all he'd done!

But first, the large and deformed beast that was Henry Stein carefully scooted over to the shaking Boris clone and comforted him as best he could.

He'd protect this poor pup, no matter what.

The Ink Demon seemed to be in favour of extending that same grace, although it did still go for the kill when the less than agreeable ink monsters came around looking for trouble.

-

Buddy's transformation had certainly enraged him when Joey presented the poor boy to him. Sammy's and Norman's fates however were the last straw to break the camel's back.

Most of the people that worked at the studio were strangers to Henry, but the young musician and the oddball projectionist had been friends to him.

With every stranger's heart he consumed, the large beast of a wolf grew more and more restless. The revulsion he felt when looking upon Joey growing into an all consuming desire to violently murder his captor.

When a faceless ink creature wearing only suspenders and a Bendy mask came in one day to bring him his meal however…

"My lord wishes me to feed you, oh Great Lupine... Abyssal Hunger of the Ink's Abyss…" The body shape wasn't one he recognized. The slight arch to the creature's legs a bit strange to look at, and the four fingered hands an indication that something strange had definitely come to pass in this poor madman's transition into his current state. But that voice…

"Shhh...Shhaaammiieeee…?" His voice had returned as a dissonant mess, one that was not fit for a gross mockery of a muzzle like his own.

"Is… Is that my name, oh Hungry One?" There was both fear and hope in his voice. That in itself made something twinge painfully in Henry's chest. "I… Yes, yes that is my name isn't it? Sammy… I… oh thank you kindly, Benevolent Wolf. Please, feast upon your meal. I have worked hard to acquire it in the name of our Lord, your most wonderous companion."

What had Joey done to Sammy Lawrence, the proud music director that had more than half the mind this mindless drone had? Good heavens, what had he done that completely broke the poor kid?!

Rather than voice his horror, Henry did as he was told. After all the more he ate, the more his gluttonous appetite grew… as did this horrid body he was stuck with.

Abyssal hunger indeed…

He forgot what shame tasted like, but not mercy.

As selfish as it may be, he did request one thing.

"It is as you wish, oh Hungry One… I shall protect all pups that enter my lair." The Prophet bowed once, twice and then trice as he took Buddy by the hand. "Another horror skulks in the darkness, wearing an Angel's face. She hunts wolves, for fun. I shall show them your mercy."

He trusted that Sammy would keep his word. He was as stubborn as they could get, after all, and did not back off from a challenge very easily.

Henry would miss Buddy's company though.

That particular encounter was bad on a moral level, but it did turn out alright in the end. When the Projectionist was presented to him as a play thing however, Henry had begun to crack. No one deserves such a horrible fate as to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Norman had once carried a world of unimaginable knowledge on his back.

Now he only had the painful weight of a projector on his neck, and the volatile temper of a mindless beast.

The deformed wolf had done his best to gain the creature's trust, but it feared being attacked far too much to let a nearly 20 foot inky monstrosity near itself.

Self preservation hadn't completely left the Projectionist it seemed.

He'd let it go, hoping doing so would be a sign of good will on its own.

And then when he'd been once again left alone, Henry continued to stew in his anger. Talked himself into showing a rarer more violent side on Joey's next visit.

Even tried to fight back against him the next when he tried to touch him.

This was a losing battle however… After all, Joey Drew couldn't ever take 'No' for an answer, much less when it came from the object of his ill-fated obsessions.

Henry Stein just so happened to be his biggest obsession. Even as this horrifically imperfect monster that only an equally horrific demon could ever hope to understand.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Leave No One Behind Ch5: Doggy Style

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Everyone at the resort feels the aftermath of the blow up from the night before…and they welcome a new member to the team.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Tiny bit of smut via flashback- like blink and you miss it (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode:  Passenger Seat by Stephen Speaks

A/N: Yes we know this song isn’t an 80s one but we don’t care! It fits too well, please give it a listen. As always, we hope you enjoy!

Series Master List // WIYPT Master List   

I look at her and have to smiile, as we go driving for a while, her hair blowing in the open window of my car 

When Hannah woke up the following morning her eyes were swollen and sore from crying. She winced at the rays of sun that hit her mercilessly and shut her eyes again as she stretched and sat up on her bed. Her head was pounding and she didn't feel like seeing anyone that morning, she was pissed at everyone. Well not everyone. Rachel and Jake hadn't wronged her in any way since they had met. On the contrary, Rachel had been the sister she had never had, her only girl friend in a place brimming with testosterone in a country hostile to women. She’d sat with Hannah, comforting her for a while the previous night, rubbing her back and calming her down till she had stopped sobbing. And Jake had been nothing but friendly and kind with her, he had made her laugh and had showed her the wonders of Red Sea bottom

The revelation of what Andy had done had sideswiped her greatly. Maybe that out of everything was what had hurt her more and what was worse, there was nothing she could do about it no matter how angry she felt, no face to punch either. She knew she had to move forwards and that there was no point dwelling in the past because as her mama always said, You can't change the past, but you can make your future. And she was determined to follow her mother's wise words but, that said, she still was ready to kill someone along the way. Starting with Sammy and she would probably have killed Andy too if he was there. She certainly wanted to rip Max's tongue off and feed it to the fish. And then there was Ari. Ari ... well, where to even start with that?

She pushed her evil thoughts aside as she got up and pulled a pair of shorts and a top. She brushed her teeth and headed out, deciding to go for a walk before taking a shower. She strolled in the kitchen and grabbed herself a coffee, greeting Rachel good morning and blatantly ignoring Max, who was eating toast.

"Don't you forget I need you to help me with the aerobics class, Han." Rachel reminded Hannah, looking between her and Max.

"Sure. I'll be back on time." Hannah said as she took her mug and headed off down the shore.

She walked mindlessly for five minutes, enjoying the early morning sea breeze and the calming feeling of the beach sand under her feet and between her toes. The walk took her to her favourite spot just where the shore curved round the bay. It was a huge crop of rocks which were ideal for sitting in between and hiding. It was almost like a little cave, her cave, with two large rocks either side and a flat one which formed a sort of roof. It reminded her of a dolmen, ideal for sitting under and cleansing one's mind and spirit.

She was lost in her thoughts, dwelling on how she was determined to take the reins of her own life from that moment on and fuck the world, as her eyes scanned the ocean in front of her. Then, suddenly, something cold, then warm and wet nudged her hand. She gave a little yell and jumped as she thought it had been a jellyfish. But she didn't feel any itching or irritation, so she then thought it must have been some sort of fish or eel, something that was washed up.

Not that it was a more comforting thought.

Hannah looked around and saw a small, hairless dog cowering in the inner corner of the cave. Or at least it looked like a dog. She approached the animal cautiously to verify it was indeed a dog and not some other random form of life and was pleased to see her initial identification was correct.

"Hey puppy." she said gently, holding her hand out.

The dog was tentative. He looked at her hand but didn't move a muscle so she stayed still allowing him time to move and sniff her and then his tail gave a small wag and she reached out to scratch his ear. The dog then wagged his tail a little stronger.

"I like you too, buddy." Hannah said softly, smiling at him.

At the sound of her voice the dog came nearer and put his paws on her legs, wagging his tail before he sat down close next to her, his head resting against her legs. She noticed then the dog needed a bit of patching up as he had a few wounds over its back. He must have been a stray dog living in the cave, she thought, and she had intruded his safe place.

She drank her coffee in silence with the dog beside her. Then she got up and headed to the resort in order to take a shower and help Rachel with the damned aerobics class, but when she looked down she realised the dog had followed her instead of staying behind his home. Her mind travelled then to Cocoa, the dog they had as a kid. A chocolate Labrador who used to growl at Sammy whenever he was teasing her or messed with her dolls. Cocoa used to follow her all over, he was like her shadow and had never let her down. Of course he hadn't because dogs are better than people. They're loyal, which is not something many people at the resort could claim.

And that was that, she was keeping the dog. She made up her mind there and then. This dog had appeared when she most needed something to rely on and maybe he needed her too.

When Hannah entered the resort, followed by the dog, everyone was sat on a table at the patio, before the guests awoke fully and the busy hours of the day began.

"Oh my God! Whose dog is this? Hi fella?" Rachel said, immediately spotting the dog.

"Suppose he’s mine now." Hannah shrugged as she took a seat next to Jake and left the coffee mug on the table.  "Found him on the beach...or he found me."

"We're not keeping a dog...are you keeping him? Seriously?" Sammy asked, raising her voice with every question.

Hannah merely glared at him, she didn't say a word. She turned to Rachel instead before saying "I think I might keep him."

Simon then pottered over to Max, sitting down beside him, his ears forward, looking at his food.

"The dog wants my food." Max deadpanned.

"Give him some then." Hannah said, rolling her eyes.

Max hesitated before grabbing some beef bacon from Ari's plate and gave it to the dog.

"The dog wanted your food not mine." Ari protested, before taking a sip from his coffee.

He looked at the dog as he wolfed it down and then jumped up, paws on Max's leg, tail wagging so hard his butt was moving.

"Hey!  He likes me." Max chimed.

"He is kinda cute..hey buddy..." Jake said as he gave a sharp whistle and fed him a slice of toast.

"There's some leftover chicken in the fridge..." Rachel offered, seeing as the dog would guzzle all their breakfast if they let him.

"Oh, cool, he's hungry...poor thing..." Hannah said standing up.

She slapped her leg and the dog followed her unconditionally.

Once she was gone Sammy started his usual campaign against anything new.

"She can't keep him." he groaned.

"She's so keeping it." Jake snorted.

Ari who was now smoking a cigarette, his left arm leaning on the chair's back, asked "Why can't he stay?"

"He reminds me of Ethan...no hair" Max joked, with his signature grin. Rachel slapped him on the back of his head and everyone bar Sammy snorted.

"Seriously, Ari, she can't keep it. We're on a mission." Sammy tried again.

"You fucking tell her then..." Ari growled, not bothering to look at him.

"Chill out, it's only a dog. And what's wrong with you two?" Jake asked, looking between Sammy and Ari.  "You're throwing daggers at each other."  He then turned to Max "And you, you're being weird too."

Ari decided then he had had enough and stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray. He too was pissed at Sammy and Max and wasn't in the mood to answer any of Jake's questions whatsoever.  "I'm going for a run." he said as he got up.

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of here..." Sammy snarled.

Ari stopped on his tracks and glared at him "I'm going now before I punch YOU in the jaw...and you wanna upset your sister again, be my guest, because I can't and I won't."

"Yeah, you've never been able to say no to her have you, Ari?" Sammy raised his voice again.  

"Ok, what have I missed?" Jake asked, his eyes darting between Sammy, Max and Rachel.

Ari just shot Sammy another glare, more like a death stare, thinking how he would love to drag him over the table and smash his face in.  But he simply left, his hands turning into fists.

"Just leave it" Max whispered, leaning over Jake.

The first guests started appearing in the dining room just as Rachel switched seamlessly into Angela, welcoming them. Max, Jake and Sammy stood up and cleared the table they had been having breakfast at. Hannah came back, the dog on her tail after having been fed and patched up, and greeted the guests in a perfect Spanish accent.

"Buenos días" she said to the woman she had spoken Spanish to the day before, and then ignored everyone and headed to her hut.

Just as she was about to reach her door she bumped into Ari as he emerged from his in his running gear complete with Walkman.

"Sorry firefly didn't see you..." Ari apologised.

"It's ok, I was distracted..." she said softly, taking him in but not daring to look him in the eyes.

Ari was in no better position and ran his hand through his hair struggling for words while she checked him out. And suddenly the dog jumped up at him.

"Hey pal..." Ari kneeled down to gently pat the puppy's head and scratch him behind his ears.

"Think he likes you." Hannah said, giving him a small smile.

Ari looked up, and saw Hannah was smiling, and he'd be damned if it wasn't a genuine smile. His eyes locked on hers for a second before he looked back at the dog who was now licking his face.

"Where did you find him?" he asked softly.

"My rocks." she said, pointing to the curve of the bay. Ari squinted his eyes and then he spotted the place she was pointing out. "I think I might call him Simon."

Ari laughed at the random name. "Simon?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Hannah shrugged and just then he let out a snort as he realised "Still hoping Simon Le Bon is gonna come rescue you?"

"Well if you can't have Simon Le Bon, Simon Le Bone will do. What do you think, buddy?" Hannah cooed, bending to give him scratches.

"A substitute for the real thing?" Ari quipped. He sensed Hannah was in good spirits and decided it was worth giving a shot.

"Well, we don't always get what we want." she replied, looking up back at him.

Ari swallowed, remembering the dream he had had the other night and her saying those exact words to him on her 21st. His face then fell and though he tried to collect himself quickly Hannah noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, studying him.

"Nothing Firefly, just....I'm sorry." he answered quietly.

"Yeah, you said." she said as she looked down at the dog who was now rolling on the sand. She looked back at Ari and could see the pain was still in his eyes even though he had rearranged his face. She swallowed before admitting "I'm sorry too, Lobo."

"What for?" he frowned. Now, that was a surprise.

"Being so angry at you...I know you're hurting too." she said looking into his eyes, just to check they were still in turmoil.

Ari couldn't find the words, he didn't think he deserved her forgiveness. He knew he didn't. The only thing he could come up with was looking at her shrugging before stepping forward and in an automatic response, hugging her. He didn't even think about the possibility of her rejecting his touch, even his nearness. But, surprisingly, she rested her head against his chest as his hands gently rubbed at her back and he decided in a bold movement to kiss her head and whisper into her hair "I'm so sorry, Han."

"I know." she whispered back.

They stood there until a moment later she pulled back and wiped her eyes "Look I have to help Rachel with the tourists. Can you keep an eye on Simon?"

"So we're actually calling him that?" Ari snorted.

"We?" Hannah asked, arching her eyebrow.

Ari simply smiled "I've got you on this, I like him."

"Let me guess, the others want him to go." Hannah asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, just Sammy." Ari confessed. But just as the words left her mouth he internally face palmed himself realising he may have just made it worse between the siblings.

"Well Sammy can jump. I'm done letting him take things from me." she said, her eyes burning with determination.

Ari saw her open her mouth to say something, but she shut it almost instantly as she apparently had changed her mind and after a few seconds she spoke again "I don't think there's anything on this afternoon, do you wanna take me into Port Sudan? Simon's gonna need some stuff if he is staying, I was gonna go diving but..."

Ari's mind went directly to Jake and his diving experience the previous day and blurted out  "No!" and noticed Hannah's surprised expression before correcting himself "I mean, yeah, I'll take you...sure."

"Thanks, so you're ok watching him whilst I help Rachel?" she checked.

Ari looked at the dog who glanced up at him, tongue lolling out before replying "Sure Firefly."

****

Ari was in the dining area, reading the American paper they got once a week if they were lucky, with Simon led by his feet when Sammy walked in.

"Oh fuck me..." he said, stopping when he spotted the dog.

Ari looked at him, deciding if it was worth trying to speak to him or if he was actually in the mood to do so when Simon sat up and growled at Sammy.

"Oh look at that..." Ari grinned "He doesn't like you either."

"Fuck you Ari..." Sammy rolled his eyes "She convinced you, didn't she?"

"The dog stays, Sammy." Ari said sternly, his eyes on the newspaper.

"She did." Sammy said, shaking his head as he scoffed.

"Like I said, the dog stays." Ari looked at him again. "End of discussion."

"You're an idiot." Sammy spat

"It's just a dog Sammy." Ari sighed "What's the issue?"

"You really can't say no to her can you?" Sammy asked as a response to Ari's question.

"Again Sammy?" Ari groaned as Sammy glared at him.

"Don't even think of getting near her again Ari." Sammy threatened him.

"Fuck off Sammy." Ari bit back feeling his temper fray as he stood up and stormed out of the dining area, pushing past Sammy and headed towards the beach, Simon following him.

He nearly missed Max who was about to walk in the door and moved out of the way of Ari and looked at Sammy puzzled before saying "Wow, everyone loves you today, don't they?"

"Oh shut up Max." Sammy rolled his eyes and walked into the resort.

"Yeah, that's what I should have done." he muttered. He looked at Ari who was now walking down towards the ocean and turned to follow him.

"Ari..." he called, "Wait up buddy."

Ari stopped and turned and saw Simon ran towards Max as he stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for the man to reach his side.

"Yeah, I ain't got no food now pal...you ate it all."

Ari called Simon by his name to stop bothering Max and Max looked at him "Simon? Let me guess, Duran Duran..."

"You know Hannah." Ari snorted "Simon Le Bone, meet Max...or Irving...he's Maltese..."

"Le Bone?" Max laughed "Good call..."

"Yeah I thought so too." Ari smiled.

"Look, Ari.I want to apologise. I swear when I told Andy well, I didn't think he would go and do that..." Max spoke, looking at him shyly.

"Well, he did." Ari shrugged.  "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"Doesn't it?" Max asked. Not believing for a moment his leader was going to let him get away with it. But Ari just sighed. "I know you Ari, and I know Hannah too." Max insisted.

"Well, in that case why don't you tell me if it matters or not then Max?" Ari asked, a little tetchy.

"You know it does Ari." Max shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry man."  he added before leaving.

Ari breathed out and looked down at Simon before muttering "Everyone's fuckin' sorry... Well, except Sammy that is."

Simon just looked at him. The dog hadn't got a clue of what was going on so he happily headed down to the ocean, sticking his paws in the water.

*****

Ari drove the truck down the main road heading towards Port Sudan. Neither of them were talking much, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Both of them were glad to get away from the atmosphere that had descended on the Red Sea Diving resort, even if they were partially responsible for it despite that not being totally their fault.

Hannah was simply looking out of the window, every so often taking something in, an interesting landmark, an animal, whatever it was they passed by. Her passenger side window was opening, causing the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her bun to blow around her face. Ari stole a glance at her, taking in her profile, smiling softly to himself thinking it was probably a good job her eyes were covered by her shades because he really should be focussed on the road…

“Why are you looking at me Ari?” Hannah questioned as she turned to face him. He hastily averted his attention to the road as he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Was just thinking, it’s been a while since we've been alone in a car." he said, his elbow leaning on the door frame.

"Yeah well this ain’t gonna end the same way as the last time that happened." she said taking a deep breath as she looked back out of the window.

"What do you mean?" Ari frowned.

She turned to look at him "You forgotten that night after the McDonalds drive through?"

Oh…no, he hadn’t forgotten...just not thought about it for a while. But now he was.

Ari tossed the scrunched up cheeseburger wrapper into the paper bag as Hannah did the same, before he turned and dropped the trash into the rear foot well of his chevvy behind his seat. Hannah reached over for her coke, taking a large drink as she glanced out of the window.

“So tell me, mi Lobo…did you park this far away from everyone else for a reason?” she asked, turning to him.

“Firefly, I resent that accusation…” he said, shifting slightly so he was side on in his seat, facing her, one arm sneaking round the back of her headrest.

“You’re so full of shit…” she looked at him, and he arched an eyebrow.

“Ok, you got me…” he said, his other hand falling to her thigh just above where her long, over-knee socks finished “I just wanted to make sure no one dented the car…” She let out a laugh and he grinned, leaning over and pressing his lips to hers, his hand sliding up over her skin and under the hem of her tartan mini skirt.

“Been driving me crazy sat in the theatre next to you, wearing this…” he muttered into her mouth, as his fingers reached the top of her thighs. She let out a soft moan as she shifted slightly, his hand gently skating over her panty clad core. “I wasn’t concentrating much on the movie.”

“Kinda the point…” she whispered, his eyes locking onto hers.

“You know you give off this sweet, little innocent girl vibe when really you’re nothing but fucking minx…” he mumbled, his lips crashing onto hers as his fingers moved her underwear to one side and he found her hot and wet and so fucking ready. It hadn’t taken him long, as his fingers coaxed her gently he nipped at her neck, lavishing her with the praise and soft dirty talk she loved and just as she’d let out a soft cry of his name and arched her back as she came, wrapping her hand around his wrist, there was a sharp banging on the window which startled them both enough for Ari to jerk upwards, cracking his head on the roof of his car.

“Fuck!”  he said, massaging his head before he moved as Hannah straightened her clothing and he wound his window down.

“Officer…” he greeted the Cop who looked at him, then to Hannah, then to the back of the car and Ari glanced around, spotting for the first time that the windows had misted up. “We were errr…” “I know exactly what you were doing…” The officer looked at him “Take it home kids.”

“Kids…” Ari scoffed, watching him go. “I’m twenty-fucking-eight!”

Hannah laughed, “Must be your boyish good looks Lobo…”

“I’m not a boy, as well you know Firefly…” he shot her a look as he readjusted his pants and turned on the ignition to the car.

“Awww, would it make you feel better if I stroked your ego and told you that you were all man?” “You can stroke somethin’…” he quipped, shooting her a dirty grin as he pulled out of the parking lot and she laughed, and turned those blue eyes on him as they flashed in the dim street lighting.

“Well take me home and I will.” Yeah, he remembered that very well. And thanks to that memory, his not so little problem from yesterday morning was well on it’s way to reappearing.

"Well, I imagine with the sand and the dust around the place, getting the windows as steamy as we did then would be a challenge." he said, clearing his throat.

Hannah gave a laugh "We nearly got arrested.”

“Why break the habit of a lifetime, sweetheart?” he laughed and Hannah shook her head as her chuckles subsided and she once more fell silent.

Ari glanced at her again before he turned his eyes back to the road. It wasn’t long after that, 2 nights in fact, that following the Surgery Inauguration Party Sammy had turned up on his doorstep and punched him in the jaw, warning him off. Lost in his own thought, he nearly missed the almost whisper from Hannah a little while later when she spoke again.

"Thank you."

Ari frowned "What for firefly?"

"For backing me up with Simon." she turned to look at him.

“Like, shall I count the amount of times you backed me up since we came here?"

"I backed you up those times Lobo because you were right." she shrugged.

"Yeah, well and so were you about Simon." he said simply, his eyes back on the road.

"Well thanks anyway..."

"You're welcome Han. Besides, I kinda like him." he said, smiling at her.

At that she gave a snort "Sammy doesn't."

Ari rubbed at his eye, “Sammy doesn't like anyone, well not at the moment."

She let out a cheeky laugh, before she grinned and Ari looked at her again "That's part of the reason I wanted to keep him." she said, drawing a loud laugh from him. .

****

Jake entered the reception area in his diving gear and was about to say something but shut it closed when he realised only Rachel and Jake were there sorting some schedule for the following day.

"Where the hell is Hannah?" he asked them, his hands on his hips.

"She went with Ari to Port Sudan." Rachel deadpanned without taking her eyes from the folder.

"What the fuck?” Jake cursed, making both Rachel and Max lift their eyes to look at him. "I was gonna take her diving..."

Not missing the whiney tone to his voice, Max vaulted over the reception counter and put an arm round Jake "Come on man, I'll tell you a story..."

They walked towards the seafront part of the resort, the dog behind them. Hannah had instructed Max to babysit Simon while she was away. In fact her exact words had been to take care of her puppy and keep it as far away from Sammy as possible. As long as he didn't turn his whiney bitch mode on, in which case Max was fully allowed to unleash the dog on Sammy having been told by Ari about his little growling incident before.

Max explained to Jake everything he needed to know about the big fuck up that had taken place nearly nine years before and which was still altering their lives. Jake listened carefully, slack-jawed as he ran a hand over his face from time to time.

"Whoaa, talk about a fucked up story." was all Jake could muster as realisation of what had been happening in front of his own eyes hit him. "So, Ari and Hanna..." he trailed and Max nodded in reply.

Then they abruptly stopped talking realizing Simon was gone. They looked around, turning and walking frantically, searching for the dog but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Cracker is so gonna kill us…” Max groaned as they ran back to the resort. "Have any of you seen the dog? We can't find him." he asked, bending over his body and panting as they emerged into the reception area.

"What?" Rachel shrieked.

"We got distracted for a minute and bam, he gone. We lost him." Jake explained as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What the fuck do you mean you lost him?" Rachel asked fuming. "Find him.  Now!"

"Yeah, you better do it fast before mama bear comes back and rips your head off." Sammy snorted. He would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the show Dumb and Dumber were putting on.

"Yeah mama bear and wolf daddy." Max laughed.

Both Sammy and Jake glared at Max.

"Let's have a look around the buildings." Jake said, still pissed at Max's comment. He hadn't forgotten the fact that Hannah had bailed on him. That said, he was still quite fond of his head so didn’t want to give her any excuse to be pissed at him, so together they headed out looking for the dog at the front side of the resort but there wasn't any trace of him there either.

"You know it's a stray..." Jake sighed "He could have just fucked off home..."

"Yeah, I think he did...look" Max said, pointing to Simon who was stood outside Hannah's hut just like he was chilling. He looked at them, his ears pricking up, almost in a greeting.

Yo guys.

"Fucking dog." Jake hissed.

They tried calling him to them, both relieved, but the dog showed no intention of moving from his spot. He just observed the two sweaty men looking at him with squinting eyes and their hands on their hips.

"If he's waiting for Hannah, he won't move." Jake said. "Unless..." and he turned to look at Max with a hopeful grin.

So Max rushed to the kitchen to fetch some food for the dog and quickly came back, showing it to him. Simon then got up and headed over to Max wagging his tail.

"Like, if this is Hannah and Ari's kid..." Jake snorted "Does this make Sammy his uncle?" he asked as Max fed the dog.

"Grumpy uncle..." Max snorted, looking at Jake.

"Then you must be food uncle..." Jake offered and Max grinned satisfied with his title. “What am I?”

“Shit shirt uncle?” Max quipped, as Jake shot him a look before the three of them headed back to the main building.

****

Ari had to hand it to Hannah, she hadn’t lost a shred of that tenacity she’d possessed years ago. She was currently stood in a little pet shop on the high street describing Simon to the man behind the counter. The guy spoke really bad English, but had given a yell to someone who had wandered through from the back, who was now attempting to translate.

“No, no hair…” Hannah was saying “Grey, with pink patches…big ears.” “Ahhh…nem, nem!” The man said, and he hurried out from behind the counter and gestured for Hannah to follow him. Ari watched as she did, and he pulled a book from one of the shelves and thumbed through until he found the page.

“Yeah!” Hannah grinned, giving him a thumbs up “Sukran…” The man beamed and nodded, leaving her with the book whilst he went to ring up the total for the dog bowls, the basket bed, food, collar and leash Hannah had picked out.

“You find him?” Ari asked.

“Yup.” she said, as he looked over her shoulder at the page. “He’s an Abyssinian Sand Terrier, also known as an African Hairless dog…”

“Sand Terrier is much better.” Ari said, “Makes him sound much more mysterious…”

“Says here they are fearless, loyal and willing to please…” Hannah mused.

“Sounds like someone I know.” Ari quipped and Hannah looked at him, rolling her eyes with a small smile on her face as she closed the book on Dog Breeds and placed it back on the shelf. She moved to the counter and pulled out her purse but Ari gently placed his hand on hers and shook his head.

“I’ll get it…” “Ari, no,it’s…” “I’m gonna ring it through on expenses.” Ari grinned “He’s a guest after all…” She looked at him before she shrugged “Good luck explaining that to Ethan.” “I think Ethan would like him, like Max said, they both have the same amount of hair.” Hannah laughed and Ari grinned and he paid the man, giving him a tip as a thanks for his help before they gathered the things and headed back to the car. They placed the stuff in the back and Hannah went to the passenger side to climb in, but Ari stopped her when he spoke.

“Whilst we’re here, why don’t we head to the Souk and then the market? I’m not in any particular rush to get back…that is unless you want to?” “No, a walk sounds good.” She smiled, her hands shifting to the scarf that was round her head, making sure it was adjusted properly.

Together they made their way through the relatively busy dusty street and found themselves in a large market place, which led in turn to smaller alleys off which the found the various Souks and Bazars. Ari allowed Hannah to direct, as they spent a bit of time looking at the clothing and the jewellery, a particular piece caught Ari’s attention due to the shape but before he could say anything Hannah’s focus was on a perfume stall which seemed like you could basically mix your own. After smelling a few components, some nice, some really not, they wandered back to the market place and there they spent a little more time at the food stalls. It was fun, they walked around, taking the free samples of the local breads, cheeses, meats and fruits they were offered along with pastries and sauces and dips…and once they’d decided what they liked at Ari’s suggestion they picked up a selection as a treat for the team later when they settled down for their usual end of day chat and drinks. Ari felt encouraged when Hannah agreed, that she was amenable to actually being round a table with Max and Sammy gain gave him hope that she was feeling a little less hostile towards the pair of them.

On their way back they passed a local café and Hannah stopped and asked Ari if they could grab a drink. Given that they’d been in the heat and sun most of the afternoon he conceded it was probably a good idea and they settled at a table, Ari lighting up a cigarette as they drank some form of sweet, iced tea. Hannah made some joke about how Max would be pissed about missing out on free food samples and Ari grinned, agreeing. For the most part, however, he was silent, simply letter her talk as he was happy she was relaxing and the Firefly he knew was coming back to him. It wasn’t just that though, his mind was clouding a little as she was stirring deep feelings, emotions he had been trying to ignore since she admitted the other night that she had loved him.

It had shocked him, it truly had. As it was something that neither of them had ever said to one another, they’d never admitted to the feelings being that strong.

And now he was kicking himself for not doing so when he had the chance.

Mind you, to do so he would have had to have admitted it to himself and at the time he hadn’t. The old adage of not knowing what you had till it was gone had never been more apt.

“We should probably go if we want to get back to help with Dinner Service” Hannah said softly, glancing at her watch “Damned it…is that the right time?”

She held her wrist out and Ari then glanced at his and shook his head “No, it’s short by 30 minutes…”

She groaned “I only set it again this morning. Think it’s on its way out. Mind you, what do you expect when it only costs you 5 bucks huh?” “So it’s not a real Tag?” Ari raised an eyebrow, teasing and she gave him a look of mock indignance.

“That is a genuine fake I’ll have you know, Lobo.” she snorted before she sighed “I’ll get one, one day.”

Ari tossed down some money, thanked the guy who had served them and they headed back to the truck. As they made their way back, the sun was starting to dip, and with it Hannah’s mood as the closer they got to the Resort, the more withdrawn she started to get again.

"Do you regret it?" she suddenly blurted out.

"What?" he frowned.

"Regret being with me all those years ago?"

“Hannah…” he sighed “Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Raking over it all…” “Because I don’t understand Ari.” She looked at him, “Before on the beach, when you said you were sorry…I just wonder sometimes if...” she trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, forget it.” “It clearly does matter.” Ari said, his voice carrying a level of frustration. “Spit it out.” “If I’d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Ari took a deep breath. "Han I hate the way we ended, I really do...and it tears me apart thinking about why it happened and there's a part of me that will never forgive Sammy for what he did, but he did it because he thought he was protecting you, and I know that doesn’t make it ok..." He cut her protests off before she could launch into another rant about her brother, continuing as he attempted to get his point across. “But I knew he was right. I wasn’t good for you. I was a selfish asshole, still am according to you remember?”

“I shouldn’t’ have said that…” she dropped her gaze to her hands which were clasped in her lap.

“But you’re right.” he shrugged “So I didn’t fight because I believed what Sammy was saying, I still do in some ways but do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

His words hit Hannah like a lightning bolt as she turned everything over in her mind. Over the course of less than 3 days she’d gone from believing that Ari had left because things were getting too serious for him and that he had gotten what he wanted and so cast her aside, to then believing that he had in fact been warned off by her brother and didn't fight because he didn't care enough but now she truly understood. He actually believed everything that Sammy had said. He genuinely thought he wasn’t good enough for her. So had done what in his mind was right, broken her heart to save it in the long term.

“I suppose it worked out for you in the end.” she said gently “You found Sarah, had Maya.”

Ari sighed “Yeah, and I wouldn’t change any of that in the world…but you know, you got Andy…”

He instantly knew he had said the wrong thing as her face darkened again and she looked out of the window.

"Han, don't be too angry at him..." he pressed.

"Angry? I'm fucking furious Ari.” she turned to him, tears in her eyes “I feel betrayed...like...well, my entire relationship happened because he broke us up. It’s like the whole thing was a fucking sham."

"Don't say that." Ari shaking his head "You loved him Hannah, and he did what he did for a reason. He loved you."

"Well I loved someone else back then." she wiped at her face "And he hardly knew me either at that point so he didn't have a right to do anything. It's like he saw me as some prize to be won in some fucked up competition"

“Hey, come on…” he reached out for her left hand which had fallen to her knee and he gave it a quick squeeze “I know it hurts, and I know you’re angry but everyone did what they did because they thought it was right.” “It should have been my choice though Ari.” she looked at him, shaking her head “And you all took that choice away from me whether you meant to or not.” “I know, and I’m sorry…” “I know, I know.” she said softly “And I believe you, I do…” she took a deep breath and she shook her head “Suppose you’re right…not like we can change any of it anyway, unless you’re hiding a TARDIS somewhere...” “Sorry Firefly, you’re The Doctor not me.” She looked at him, before her face creased up and she let out a huge howl of laughter.

Thankfully, the conversation took a lighter turn, Ari getting the impression that Hannah was as tired of being angry and bitter about things as he was and he hoped that she was ready to stop torturing herself over the past. He hated seeing her so upset and withdrawn.

Eventually they got to the resort and once the car had stopped, Hannah climbed out and grinned as Simon came trotting over to greet them, his tail wagging furiously. As Hannah stooped to greet him, Ari was pondering at how the dog seemed to actually be that bonded with her already considering she had found him only that morning, when his attention went to Sammy and Rachel who were emerging from the side entrance.

“Where the hell have you been? You've been gone for hours.”

"Hello to you too Sammy..." Ari rolled his eyes

"I didn't realise we were being timed" Hannah stood up and folded her arms. "Did I miss my curfew?" she asked sarcastically. "Ignore him." Rachel shot Sammy a look before she walked towards the truck where Hannah was now reaching into the back for the bags.

"Gladly" Hannah mumbled. Rachel took one of the bags from her, looking inside and immediately started cooing over the stuff they had bought, informing them that it looked great. Hannah started to tell her all about the fabrics and the perfumes at the souks as they walked inside, Simon mooching behind them.

Ari watched them go, ignoring Sammy and then smiling at Jake who had also emerged to help.

“Need a hand?”

“Yeah…thanks.” Ari said as Jake grabbed the bag of dog biscuits. Ari tossed the smaller pet items into the basket before he removed it from the truck, shutting the door with his hip. He nodded at Max who was leaning in the doorway eating a sandwich as he entered the resort.

“Where do you want this Firefly?” he asked. She turned to face him and placed the bag she was carrying down, fishing in her pocket.

“Can you take them to my hut?” “Sure.” She crossed towards him, placed the key in the basket he was carrying and he gave her a smile as he headed back outside and down to the hut that was 2 along from his. Unlocking the door he walked inside, placed the basket on her bed and stood up, taking a quick look around. The familiar vanilla notes he associated with her surrounded him and he simply took a deep breath before he turned to go, which was when he noticed that there was frame on her bed side table which was face down. He knew he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help himself and he gently picked it up. It was a photo of her and Andy in her Mama’s garden. Hannah was sat on his knee, smiling at the camera as Andy gently kissed her cheek. Fuck, she’d really, really taken what the man had done badly.

Captain fucking obvious, Levinson….

He understood where she was coming from, he really did, but she’d been happy with Andy. He had been a good guy, what he had done was selfish but he wasn’t a selfish man, not by nature…hell, he’d given his own life to save Ari’s…but as he stood there, Ari suddenly started to wonder whether there had been more to that. Had Andy felt some sort of guilt?

No, no. It had been a split, in the moment decision, one any agent would do for another. That was all.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, he replaced the photo so that it wouldn’t appear to have been moved and left, locking the door behind him and heading back to the dining area.

As usual everyone chipped in to help serve dinner to the guests, and then that was it. Their duties over for the day and they were free to do what they wanted. As the Guests started to thin out, either heading to the beach or to their huts the staff-slash-agents retreated to a table outside with a bottle of wine and the stuff Ari and Hannah had brought back. The chat was easy and it was comfortable, which Ari was thankful for. Rachel, in her full Angela role informed them they were booked now until the start of April, at which point Ari, or Guy, nodded and suggested that might be a good time to go scouting again for more diving locations…in other words, their next mission. They all nodded, and he agreed he would clear it upon his trip back to the US (Israel) to chat to their sponsors (Ethan).

“Well, before we go scouting anywhere…” Max spoke, in his Irving voice “It’s Rosa’s 30th…” There were subdued cheers around the table, and Hannah groaned.

“Don’t remind me…” she said, her accent impeccable as always.

“You know we should throw a party…” Sammy said “A proper beach one, like they do back home, in Aus…” Hannah looked at him, and then shook her head. Rachel looked at her “Oh come on!” “A party could be fun, Red.” Jake grinned at her and she sighed.

“Fine, but I am not going naked diving.” she pointed at him “Regardless of whether it’s a birthday tradition in the diving world…” “Isn’t that a 100th Dive Tradition?” Ari looked at Jake, raising an eyebrow. Jake shrugged, mischievously.

“You lying bastard!” Hannah scoffed, slapping his arm. Jake grinned and she shook her head.

“And on that note, I’m calling it a night.” he yawned “I have a double diving tour tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I should really sort some paper work too, ready for the check out tomorrow.” Rachel said, as they both stood up. Jake bid them all goodnight and Rachel headed into the resort, presumably to the office just behind the reception desk. Hannah watched as Sammy’s eyes trailed after her for a second before he too sighed and said he was heading to bed leaving Max, Hannah and Ari at the table. Hannah glanced down at Simon who sat up at the commotion, cocking his head to the side, his blue collar settled on his neck.

“Think I’ll take Simon for a little walk before bed” she rose from her seat. “Night boys.” “Good night Cracker.” Max smiled.

“Night.” Ari nodded and with that she left.

Ari watched her walk off down the sand. Simon trotting at her heels. The loose, pale yellow top she was wearing blew slightly in the breeze as she walked, barefoot and bare legged thanks to those navy blue shorts…

He turned to Max, the two of them striking up a conversation about Port Sudan, until Ari suddenly interrupted, unable to get the thought that had sprung up as Hannah walked off out of his mind.

“Think she’ll be ok?” Ari turned to Max. Max simply looked at him. “Hannah, you know, with the military being around…” Max considered Ari for a moment before he leaned forward “Why don’t you go keep an eye on her?”

“No, I don’t think she’d appreciate it.” Ari shook his head.

“She might.” Max shrugged.

Ari looked at him again, before he gave a nod and headed out. He couldn’t see Hannah, but he had a good idea where she would be, he remembered her talking about the cave she had found Simon in, just at the curve of the cove. He made his way over, exhaling cigarette smoke and smiled as he realised he was right when Simon came bounding out from behind a rock to greet him.

"Hey pal..." he said softly before he stopped at the entrance to the cave.

Hannah looked up at him, giving him a small smile as the dim light sparkled in her eyes.

"This isn't walking Firefly." Ari smiled, leaning against the rocky wall of the cave by the entrance as he looked down at her.

"I walked here didn't I?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Want me to leave you alone?" he asked, fully aware she had hidden in there for a reason. He’d got what he wanted, to know she was safe, so he was perfectly happy to let her be.

"You can sit if you want." she shrugged "But you can put that out before you step into my secret den…” He smiled and stubbed his cigarette out before he ducked into the rock cluster, sitting beside her.

“So, what you up to? Actually, no let me guess thinking..." he said and she gave a soft huff, shrugging “You know I meant what I said before, don't you ever wanna switch off your brain and just stop for a while?"

"Yup." she nodded “But it’s never that simple though is it?"

"Nothing is Simple." Ari sighed "I wish it was.

"I managed it for a bit today." Hannah looked at him. "Switching off I mean. When we were in the market and stuff...it was nice."

"Yeah, yeah it was Firefly." he agreed

She looked at him and smiled "I like that."

"You like what?”

"When you call me Firefly, not Hannah or Han."

"You'll always be Firefly to me." he shrugs "Although Hannah is your actual name, so..."

"Sorry, you mean Rosa Maria, Guy.”

Ari chuckled as did she.

"I think we needed that" he smiled.

"Needed what?”

"A smile, and a laugh...chance to be away from it all for a little while." he looked at her.

"Maybe, like I said today was nice. Tonight was nice too...things have gone a bit overboard since we came back from the mission."

"You're telling me." He agreed.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the moonlight on the water as a slight gust of wind blew in from the Ocean, ruffling Ari’s hair slightly. He felt Hannah give a little shiver besides him and he looked at her as she tucked her knees into her chest. He hesitated for a second before he passed his arm over her shoulder.

"If I was wearing a jacket I'd offer it to you..." he nodded to the goose-bumps on her arm as explanation for his display of affection, fully expecting her to push him away but she didn’t.

"This is fine." she shrugged "Thanks”

"You're saying that a lot today Firefly." he looked at her before his attention went to Simon who was digging in the sand at the mouth of the cave, his tail wagging furiously.

"Well, you know, mama always told me to give thanks when it’s due so..."

"Good advice" he nodded.

“Seriously though, thank you Ari…” she looked at him for a moment before leaning up and kissing his cheek.

He turned his head to look at her and her face was so close to his. “You’re welcome” he whispered, swallowing slightly and her eyes flickered down to his lips. It was quick, and had he blinked he would have missed it. But he didn't...and once more he was catapulted back to the night of her 21st outside the club.

The internal conflict that had been raging inside him back then reared once more with vengeance only this time it wasn’t just about Sammy. There was Andy and everything else that had happened over the past few days, and her question from before rang around his head, silencing the voices...

“If I���d have told you I loved you, back then, would it have made a difference? Would you have fought harder?”

Whilst he couldn’t answer that, because he honestly didn’t know, he did know one thing. He didn’t regret them being together, at all.

“…do I regret anything that happened between us? No, not a damned second I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

And he would, one and a million fucking times over regardless of how it worked out, because he'd rather have had her for those few months than never at all.

He was aware she still hadn’t moved, her eyes were bouncing across his, like she was waiting for him to decide what he wanted, what he was going to do…so he did. His lips brushed hers, in a soft, gentle kiss, their noses bumping together slightly. And she didn't pull away. His arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer, his lips gliding over hers, the kiss deepening slightly. She was mimicking his movements, reciprocating, her tongue sliding against his and fuck he was in heaven, his stomach full of those familiar knots, until she pulled away, dropping her head slightly, her hand on his chest.

"Ari..I..." her voice was raspy, her chest rising and falling deeply as was his. And he shook his head before he pressed it to hers.

“I know.” he sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s not just your fault” she said softly.

He looked at her before he moved his arm from round her, running his hand through his hair as he sat back, shaking his head, looking down at his hands. There was a moment or two of silence, Ari mentally cursing himself again for being an idiot before Hannah spoke.

“I need to go…it’s late and I didn’t sleep much last night." she looked at him “Wanna walk me back?” He looked at her, noticing that she was smiling and he gave a soft laugh.

“Sure…come on.”

He stood up, ducking again as the cave wasn’t tall enough to accommodate his full height and held his hand out to help her up. She took it, and once she was stood, she didn’t let go.

**** “Have you seen Hannah?” Rachel asked, walking back out onto the patio “I need to ask her something about the Spanish guests.”

“She left for a walk.” Max said, looking up from the piece of drift wood he had been whittling into shape. As Rachel made to go find her, he suddenly realised he had sent Ari before and hastily stood up. “I’ll go, see if I can find her.” he offered.

Rachel smiled “Thanks.”

Max walked over the sand, down in the direction Hannah had headed in and then paused as he saw them in the distance, slowly making their way back towards the resort, hand in hand. Smiling to himself, Max turned to head back, giving one last glance over his shoulder at which point he saw them both stop at Hannah’s hut. Hannah looked up at Ari who wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She pulled back, smiled and headed into her room with Simon. Ari paused as the door closed, his head dropping a little as his hand ran through his hair before he headed towards his own accommodation.

Max made his way back to the dining area and wanderd inside to the bar, pouring himself a scotch.

“Did you find her?”

He spun to look at Rachel and shook his head “Nah, no sign. Must have gone to bed”

She looked at him before nodding “Ok, it can wait until tomorrow. I’m turning in myself now then. You ok to shut up here when you’re done?” Max nodded and watched Rachel go before he resumed his previous position at the table, picking up his carving, a soft smile playing on his face.

This time, he wasn’t saying shit about what he’d seen.

[my-friend-and-the-setting-sun]

Days of travel towards the castle was nothing new to Meta Knight. He had been on long trips before, perhaps longer. He even had the endurance to go days without food, so he often would just eat an apple a day, and feed Kirby the rest...though because of the child’s need to eat a lot at his age, the apples were diminishing fast, and Meta Knight could only hope and pray the king was benevolent enough to let the child eat his fill once they arrived…Kirby was not used to these difficult conditions the way Meta Knight was.

On the final dawn of their trek, the fields as bright green as ever, if not more, with the castle’s silhouette on the distant horizon, the last apple was finished, and Kirby was getting quite fussy, now. He had gone over a week with lesser meals than usual, he had not seen his mother at all, and had not slept in a bed in days. Meta Knight’s hold could only offer so much comfort but at night, with no beds otherwise? Kirby was starting to get more than a little agitated.

His behavior proved it, when his smiles began to become fewer and farther in between, poking through Meta Knight’s cape and belongings when he thought the older puffball was not looking, making small indignant noises when he would not find any more food, puffing his cheeks and pouting at Meta Knight. He even got to the point where he tried to inhale at objects in an attempt to find food...prompting Meta Knight to step in with alarm and pull him away and apologize to anyone that happened to be nearby. He was often met with the ire of the citizens, usually Waddle Dees. (How predictable, he thought, that they existed in Dreamland, too…and seemed to take up most of its populace.)

Otherwise, Meta Knight was at a loss at how to handle Kirby’s increasingly difficult behavior...he tried cradling him, letting Kirby sit on his head, even tried to point out butterflies to distract Kirby. These methods worked less and less over the days, and now, on the final stretch, with the castle in reach, Kirby was far from amused and kept tugging at Meta Knight’s cape, running off when he felt Meta Knight was not paying enough attention…

It was driving the blue knight to his wits’ end. Children were difficult, he thought, too difficult. How was his mother able to handle this whenever the moods came up?

Though as frustrated as Meta Knight was, he could not bring himself to blame Kirby’s behavior...the child lost his mother, wasn't even aware of her fate, was very hungry, and it was all culminating and understandably making the poor child in a terrible mood.

“Mama!!” Kirby shouted suddenly, finally, after about two hours of walking since they woke up, yanking on Meta Knight’s cape in frustration, though it did nothing to slow the knight down. “MAMA!!”

“Kirby, we’re nearly there,” Meta Knight sighed in exasperation, trying not to let his hidden frustration creep into his tone. “I know, you’re tired, and hungry, but we will get to rest shortly. Can you hold over just a little longer?”

“MA-MA!!” the pink child wailed, and Meta Knight felt his stomach churn seeing tears beginning to bead at the corners of those large blue eyes. Oh, no.

“Kirby,” he said again, raising a hand defensively and stopping in his tracks. “No, don’t, we’re almost there. Just take a deep breath…”

“Poyoooo!!” Kirby stomped his foot on the ground and yanked again, wildly pointing his paw at the dirt road behind them, perhaps thinking that his mother was slow, and they were going too far ahead...it’s likely what he had believed the whole time.

“Enough, little one...I’ll carry you the rest of the way if you want,” Meta Knight offered weakly. “Do you want that?”

“Poyiiii!!” Kirby puffed his cheeks and Meta Knight grimaced behind his mask, quickly ducking low to resist the incoming suction of the child’s inhalation ability. He realized, with annoyance, that Kirby’s behavior was coming to a head, and the child was inevitably devolving into a tantrum…

‘When it happens, I usually just let him get it all out before I try talking to him again…’ Meta Knight remembered his friend’s words, when he once asked her if there were times Kirby ever made things difficult for her…

Well, now, he had to muster up his patience, and not reprimand Kirby(yet), for his current conniption fit, if her words were true.

Kirby tired quickly, tumbling backwards when he realized he wasn’t able to inhale anything except maybe a few stray blades of grass and pebbles, which he wasn’t too happy about. He scrunched up his face, paws to his eyes as tears began to flow freely, wailing loudly as he sat on the ground, occasionally kicking aimlessly and hitting the ground at times, his high, loud bawling drawing stares from passing Waddle Dees and other citizens. 

Meta Knight felt his face burn with second hand embarrassment, thankful for his mask. He was used to acting aloof, but the sound of Kirby’s wailing made him unusually uncomfortable… 

Kirby continued to cry loudly, an abnormal sight for an otherwise cheerful baby, hiccuping between shrieks, rolling forward onto his stomach and sobbing into the dirt road as if the earth would answer his tantrum. Meta Knight was just beginning to wonder how Kirby was not exhausted from all the wailing when Kirby’s shrieks began to finally die down, lowering in volume until Kirby was hiding his head with his little arms, sniffling and sobbing quietly in apparent defeat, realizing his tantrum was not getting what he wanted out of the blue knight.

Meta Knight waited a few moments more before walking up to the child, holding out a gloved hand.

“Now will you listen to me and cooperate…?”

Kirby sniffled, slowly peeking up with the most pitiful pout ever, sniffling and rubbing dirt and tears from his face. He gave what he hoped was an aggressive glare at Meta Knight...though really, he was just mustering up a more blatant pout, cheeks puffed and tears still in the corners of his eyes.

Meta Knight stared at the child’s face and made an odd noise that Kirby was likely not sure what it meant…(The knight had stifled laughter.) He took the pufflet’s pink hand and guided him along the road now that Kirby was no longer having his fit.

Despite himself, Meta Knight felt a twang of dread...Kirby was not handling the separation from his mother very well, as it was now evidently clear. This was just with him thinking he was only separated from her temporarily, still unaware of what had actually transpired in his sleep mere days before...The mere thought of having to break the news to him made Meta Knight’s gut twist in discomfort.

A fussy tantrum was one thing...but when it was time for the child to know what happened and would need to grieve...Comfort was not the strong suit of a battle-hardened knight such as himself.

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate prompt 78) “I love you.” “You shouldn’t.”

These prompts have been sitting in my inbox since last August XD. I’m sorry, it took ages for these two to actually start talking about their issues.

[AO3]

x

Belle had known that a broken arm would be tricky to manage, but she hadn’t realised how helpless she was without Gold around to assist her. Getting dressed was the first obstacle, and she struggled to get out of her nightdress and into her underwear. She discarded any thought of attempting to put on a bra, and after weighing her options, decided on simple sweatpants, a camisole and cardigan. Even brushing her hair with her left hand took some getting used to.

He had left early, so quietly that she hadn’t heard him go, but when she entered the kitchen she found the coffee maker ready to go with decaf, the lid off the tea canister and cooked sliced mushrooms and onions alongside a plate of grated cheese and a bowl containing beaten eggs. The makings of an omelette. It made her smile.

She managed to make the omelette, although it wasn’t about to win any prizes for looks by the time it was on her plate, and ate it at the table with some tea, following it up with decaf coffee and one of the oat and raisin cookies he had made the previous day. Checking the fridge made her smile again; he had portioned up the food he had cooked, glass dishes containing macaroni cheese all ready to go in the oven and beef in red wine in plastic tubs ready for the microwave or to be tipped into a pan.

She spent her day reading and relaxing, rubbing her belly whenever the baby kicked. It was starting to get more uncomfortable the closer she got to her due date. She tried to look ahead six months, when the baby was on the outside, crawling around the apartment. Would Gold still be there? Probably not; she imagined he would move into his own place as soon as her arm was healed, seeing the baby according to the terms in the thick sheaf of documents that she had still not signed. The thought made her feel incredibly lonely.

Emma popped in to see her at lunchtime only briefly, staying for a cup of cocoa and helping her to tie up her hair. She promised to return after class with Neal and Henry, and so by six-thirty they were all seated around the kitchen table, eating their way through Gold’s macaroni cheese.

“This is so good,” said Henry, scraping his plate. “It’s got about a ton of cheese in it. Mom, you should make it like this next time.”

“Thanks,” said Emma dryly. “I thought you liked my mac and cheese.”

“I do, but you always say ‘is that enough cheese’ and I feel like I have to say yes, and it never is.”

“Wow - thanks for the honesty, I guess,” remarked Emma, taking a drink of her wine. Belle and Neal chuckled.

“You can tell Gold it was a hit,” added Neal, digging a fork into his own food. “It’s comforting. Kinda tastes like home, you know?”

“He’s an annoyingly good cook,” said Belle, in a flat tone.

“Why, that sneaky son of a—” Neal glanced at Henry. “Uh - well, you know what I mean. Belle, somehow I doubt it’s all part of an evil scheme. Maybe he just thinks you need to eat some good food.”

“Yeah, I know I sound unreasonable,” she sighed. “I don’t know where my brain’s at right now. This morning I was wondering how the hell I’d cope on my own, and - and that maybe I’ll miss him when he’s not here and it’s just me and the baby. It’s - it’s like I resent the fact that he’s stepping up, and I don’t really understand it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being emotional.”

She poked at her food, feeling despondent.

“You resent that he’s making you feel things?” said Emma, with a knowing look in her eyes, and Belle pulled a face.

“Maybe.”

“Can’t be angry with him anymore, and you still feel like you should be?”

Belle put down her fork.

“Okay, did you take psych class today or something?”

Emma put a hand over hers, grinning.

“I get it, that’s all,” she said. “Don’t get too hung up on what you think you should be feeling. Do whatever’s best for making you happy.”

Belle thought about that for a moment.

“I’m not sure what that is,” she said eventually, and Emma shrugged.

“Give it time.”

There was silence except for the scraping of plates while they finished up, and Neal offered to wash up. Dessert was ice cream, brought by Emma, and Henry went to eat his in front of the TV while Neal dried the dishes and Emma finished her wine.

“Do either of you want coffee?” asked Belle. “You’ll probably have to help me make it, but you’re welcome.”

“I could use one,” said Neal, over his shoulder. “Let me make it. You want one?”

“I’ll have tea. Peppermint, I think. The baby’s been kicking so much today it gives me heartburn.” 

He dried his hands, and Belle pushed back her chair to go to the bathroom. When she got back the coffee maker was running, and Neal had taken Gold’s old toy rabbit from its place on the shelf beside the fridge. He had a puzzled look on his face as he turned the rabbit over and over in his hands, and Belle was reminded of Gold, and the way he had studied it.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked.

“Oh, it belongs to Alex,” she said. “It’s not for the baby, or anything. It belonged to his son.”

Neal looked up.

“He had a kid?”

“Still does, apparently,” said Belle. “They kind of lost touch.”

“How long ago?” asked Emma.

“I think he said his son was two. It was years ago. I’m - I’m not sure how much he really wants me to talk about it. If at all.”

“Oh. Okay.” Emma looked thoughtful. “But he talked to you about it. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah.” Belle took her seat. “He brought the rabbit with him when he moved in, and although I’d seen it before in his shop, I hadn’t thought anything of it. So I asked him. He was - he was probably the most open he’s been with me. I think it made him uncomfortable.”

“Well, practice makes perfect.”

“Yeah.” Belle reached for her peppermint tea. “Here’s hoping for more of that.”

“Does it make you feel better about how he’ll be with the baby?” asked Neal. “I’m not prying into the guy’s private business, but maybe if he’s had a kid and you know that he loved that kid, it might make you feel a bit easier about this one, you know?”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Yeah, he definitely loves his son,” she said. “I could see it in his eyes. It was kind of heartbreaking, to be honest. So yes, I do think he’ll love our child. I - I think he already does.”

“Have you guys talked about how you’ll divide up caring for the baby?”

“No.” Belle ran her hands over her face, huffing air through her fingers. “He went to his lawyer. Drew up a huge document that I can’t face reading through and told me to get some legal advice.”

“He’s right to say that.”

“I know.” Belle sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I just - I just can’t at the moment. Every time I think about our lives being tied up in clauses and sub-clauses and stupid legal terms, I want to cry.”

Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Well, I guess since he’s living with you at the moment, there’s no rush,” said Emma reasonably.

“Yeah, plenty of time to lawyer up when he moves out,” added Neal.

“Yeah.”

Belle picked up her tea, feeling subdued, and there was a moment of silence.

“Maybe we can make Fridays a thing,” suggested Emma. “He said he’d be in Maine every week, so we could come over and keep you company.”

“I don’t know if he’ll stick to Fridays.”

“He said he had an appointment to keep,” said Emma. “Said it would be every Friday.”

“An appointment?” Belle frowned. “He never mentioned it. I know he has rent to collect, but I thought he was getting someone to do that for him.”

“Huh. Well, it’s only a suggestion.”

“No, it’s a good one,” said Belle. “I’ll ask him what his plans are.”

“Sounds good.” Emma took a slurp of coffee. “Okay, who’s up for a game of cards? Loser buys dessert next week.”

x

Gold returned when it was almost ten, looking drained and tired, although he greeted her pleasantly. Belle found herself wanting to make him tea and feed him something, and felt a little useless when he insisted on seeing to himself. He made her chamomile tea, and regular tea for himself, along with a sandwich that he made short work of in the kitchen before bringing his tea through to the lounge. She was curled in a chair, a book tented on the arm as she sipped at her drink, and he lowered himself onto the couch, perching on the edge with his elbows resting on his knees, an aura of tension hanging around him.

“How was your day?” he asked. “Did you manage everything okay? Did your friends come over?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” she said. “Your mac and cheese was a hit, by the way. Henry thought it was awesome.”

He smiled faintly.

“Good.”

“We talked about making it a regular Friday night get-together,” she added. “But I wasn’t sure if we could, what with your work thing.”

“My work thing?” said Gold, looking confused.

“Emma said you had a regular appointment in Maine,” she prompted. “So I was wondering if that was gonna be every Friday or not.”

Gold hesitated only briefly.

“I can go every Friday, if that makes it easier for you to organise things.”

“Good.” She took a sip of her drink. “In that case I’ll ask them to come over for movies and popcorn. It’ll be nice to have some company.”

“Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“Which means the rest of the week, we have each other for company,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Which we should make the most of, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed a little.

“In what way?”

“I - I thought maybe we could talk some more,” she said. “I thought - well, the conversation we had the other night. I thought that was - useful.”

Gold held her gaze steadily for a moment, then looked away, elbows shifting on his knees, fingers threaded together.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, it felt like - progress.”

She could sense his awkwardness, and felt the urge to reach out to him, to send him some sort of comfort, even as she battled with her own anxiety, her own hurt.

“So, we should talk,” she went on. “Clear the air. If you’re willing.”

There was a moment of silence, and his jaw tightened a little, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Alright,” he said at last. 

Belle set down her tea, letting her feet slip to the floor as she sat forward a little, instinctively moving closer to him, bridging the space between them until their knees were almost touching. She could hear the light sound of him breathing through his nose, and the faintest scent of him was in the air, making her want to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

“I meant it,” she said softly. “What I said the other night, before the accident. I meant it. I love you.”

His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes downcast as his head shook slightly: the barest denial.

“You shouldn’t.”

Belle sighed, sitting back.

“That’s not how this works,” she said. “That’s not how any of this works. You can’t just tell someone not to love you.”

He was silent, not looking at her, and she shook her head.

“I wanted to hate you, you know,” she admitted. “There were times when I feel like I wish I could hurt you like you hurt me, but I know that if I had the chance I wouldn’t do it.”

“Of course not,” he said quietly. “That’s not who you are.”

“Oh, I have my moments,” she said. “Pretty sure I’ve cursed you out a hundred times since we broke up.”

“Well, I imagine I deserved it.”

“Yeah.”

She looked at her hands, folded together in her lap, and there was a moment of silence. Glancing up, she could see that Gold’s attention was on the floor at his feet, the space between the toes of his shoes. She wondered what he was thinking.

“I was so hurt, for so long,” she said. “Devastated. And - and after that I got angry. Maybe I still am, I don’t know. I - I keep thinking irrational things, and I don’t always realise that I’m being unreasonable.”

“I don’t think you’re unreasonable,” he said, and took a deep breath. “You said you didn’t trust me. That - that stayed with me, Belle. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Right.”

“There again, given what I did,” he went on. “I - ah - I don’t suppose I’ve given you much reason to.”

More silence, but somehow it was deafening, as though the space between them was screaming at her. She had to speak, to bridge the gap, to voice her pain.

“You know, that was the worst of it,” she said softly. “Not the things you said, so much, awful though they were. It was more that you felt you could say them. Maybe I’m not making sense, I don’t know…”

He looked up then, his eyes warm, filled with what might have been pain and regret.

“Tell me,” he said. “I need to hear it.”

Belle chewed her lip, trying to organise her thoughts.

“I thought I knew you,” she said. “You didn’t give me much to work with, don’t get me wrong, but the little I got made me think that you - cared - for me. And - and that was okay, because even though you never said it, I felt it. I knew.”

She paused, choosing her words. His mouth had twisted a little, pain etched in the lines around his eyes.

“I’ve always felt that I have a sense about people,” she said. “That I can see past the surface, see what’s inside. So when you did what you did, not only did I realise that I didn’t know you, but it was like I lost my sense of who I was, too.”

Gold nodded slowly.

“Like you couldn’t trust your instincts,” he said. “Couldn’t trust yourself.”

“I - I guess so.”

“Yes.” He dropped his eyes again so that he wasn’t quite looking at her, but at his fingers, laced together. “And that’s why you can’t trust me, either.”

“Uh…” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

Gold nodded.

“I understand,” he whispered.

“I want to,” she added. “I want to trust you. I hate this - all of this - between us.” She gestured with a hand, back and forth. “I want it to be better. I do.”

Gold looked up again, smiling a little.

“So do I,” he said. “I’m trying, Belle. I - I know it might not feel like it, but I am.”

He dropped his eyes again, but she sensed he still had more to say, so she remained silent. Gold opened his mouth, looking a little pained.

“It - it wasn’t work,” he said hesitantly, and Belle frowned.

“What?”

“In Storybrooke,” he said. “I said I had to go there for work. That was only partly true. I can sort out the things I need to for my business remotely, I don’t need to go there.”

Belle blinked, surprised.

“Oh,” she said.

More silence. She held her tongue, waiting for him to fill it, and Gold took a breath, his brows lifting a little in the middle, giving him an anxious, somewhat helpless expression. 

“I’m going to Storybrooke each Friday because I have a regular appointment,” he said heavily. “To see Dr Hopper. For - for therapy.”

“Therapy?” Belle felt her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really.”

He caught her eyes very briefly with his before ducking his head again. She wanted to smile, a sense of relief flooding through her. Finally. Finally he asked for help.

“How’s it going?” she asked, and he sighed, that helpless look briefly returning.

“Well, it’s early days,” he said. “It’s - it’s not easy. But there again nothing worthwhile is, so they say. I’m going to keep trying. He’s - I think he’s probably very good at his job.”

“Yeah.” Bless Dr Hopper. If anyone can help, he can. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

Gold looked up sharply, a stricken expression on his face, and she smiled warmly.

“I really am,” she said sincerely. “I’m proud of you. I know how hard it must be to ask for help. It - it makes me feel like you’re really serious about making things better.”

A flicker of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

“I am,” he said. “I promise.”

He held her gaze for a moment, that tiny smile making his eyes gleam. It reminded her of happier times, and there was a lurch deep in her belly at the memories. Gold eventually glanced away.

“We should go to bed,” he said, and threw up a hand as Belle raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I - I didn’t mean we should go to bed, although - okay I did mean that, but I didn’t mean together, I meant - I meant to sleep, that’s all. I meant – oh fuck it, I’ll shut up.”

He sighed, letting the hand drop, and Belle giggled a little, eyes sparkling.

“Sleep sounds good,” she said, and he smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Well.”

He pushed to his feet, grasping his cane and holding out a hand to pull her up. Belle swayed in his grip a little, smiling up at him.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” she said softly.

“Goodnight.”

She let her hand slip from his, picking up her tea and making her way towards the bedroom, feeling his eyes on her back. Slowly, very slowly, they were making progress.

[starlight-drive-in]

Saeyoung Choi Week - Day 4: Nostalgia

This fic takes place while Saeran is in the hospital after Mint Eye in during the secret endings. I imagine this time time would have been pretty hard on Seven so I wanted to portray that while also giving him a sliver of hope. Hope you enjoy!

---

Saeyoung pulls into the hospital’s parking garage for what feels like the 100th time. He feels like he almost lives here. He was here just 10 hours ago but he needed a shower and MC had made sure he’d at least slept in his own bed for a few hours and ate something, not from a vending machine or food court. She was too good to him, too good for him but she had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t going anywhere. Even with the whirlwind that their relationship had been so far, she was his rock. She didn’t deserve to have her new boyfriend gone almost all day every day, visiting his brother who undoubtedly didn't even want to see him. Nonetheless, she stays, he'll never be able to repay her. 

He turns off the ignition and gets out, triple checks his baby is locked. He purposely parked in a deserted area of the garage under a camera so that he can check on it throughout the day. After all, there isn't usually much to do after Saeran’s gotten tired of screaming at him or attempting to murder him. Not that he cares, if it makes Saeran feel better it’s worth it. It’s what he deserves anyway for trusting V and Rika with the only real family he had ever had. 

He drops his keys in his pocket as he walks through the sliding, tempered glass doors into the lobby of the hospital’s psychiatric department.

“Good Morning Mr. Choi” The receptionist greets him brightly, but with a sympathetic look on her face. “Ready to give it another shot already?”

He gives her the best smile he can, “You know me Eunju, I’m a glutton for punishment, and please, Saeyoung is fine.” His own name still feels foreign on his lips, but he and Jumin are paying enough hush money to this hospital and its employees, he should be safe to use it. 

He signs in waits to be buzzed in through the thick metal doors. He hates this place. He knows his brother hates it too. Then again he’s not really sure what his brother doesn’t hate, or who he is at all. 

Saeyoung’s chest tightens as he approaches his brother’s door. It has a one-way mirror on it so that people outside can observe the room without being seen. He pauses and peers through the glass at his other half. 

Saeran appears to be sleeping, in fact, this is probably the most peaceful he’s seen him since they got him out of Mint Eye. Saeyoung smiles briefly before he hears someone approach behind him. 

“We had to sedate him last night, again.” Dr. Park says grimly. 

Saeyoung’s smile fades quickly. “Ah. I see.”

“He should be out for a while, but you can go in if you want. Maybe spend time with him where he’s not trying to hurt himself, or the people around him” The doctor says in a short tone. 

“Hah, yea.” Is all he can say, guilt weighing hard on him once again. This is his fault. It’s all his fault. 

“Fair warning, if he does wake up the drugs may have him a little… loopy.”

He opens the door slowly, as to not wake Saeran. If that's even possible. Saeyoung hates the idea of more drugs being pumped through his brother’s body but he has to believe there was no other choice. 

He quietly moves a chair over to his brother’s bedside and sits, leaning forward on his elbows as he studies the man. 

His skin is so pale, almost translucent. His checks are unhealthily gaunt. Saeran had never had enough to eat and it was unbearably noticeable. It would seem he was starving while Saeyoung stuffed his face with soda and chips and whatever else he could find. Not healthy, but food is food. Even now Saeran was denying food from the hospital, he refused to eat and so he was on a feeding tube whenever the hospital could manage to prevent him from ripping it out. Guilt wells up in Saeyoung again, he’s pretty sure it's made a permanent home in his chest. 

He sits there, just watching his brother for a while, he’s not sure how long really. He watches as a strand of white and pink-ish hair falls unto his brother's nose, twitching silently with each breath. Impulsively, Saeyoung reaches out and brushes the hair back on Saeran's head. 

Saerans eye’s open, just a slit. Saeyoung quickly sits back down, preparing for the outburst of insults about to be thrown at him. 

“Saeyoung?” Saeran croaks out, voice heavily laden with sleep. 

Saeyoung’s eyes open wide as he stares in disbelief at the younger twin. He hasn’t called him anything except “The Traitor” and other more colorful names since they found him. 

“It’s me, Saeran. I’m here” Saeyoung responds, trying his damndest to not get his hopes up.  

“You’re back.” His brother mutters, a small smile gracing his face. A smile Saeyoung hasn't seen in years. It’s not one of the maniacal smiles Saeyoung has seen on him through his bits of taunting laughter, no. This is a smile he used to see every day. The one Saeran would give him when he returned from errand runs, or when Saeyoung would take him outside to see the sky without their mother knowing. The one that graced his face when he’d share snacks he’d bring home after Mass, or the first time they shared popsicles together. 

Saeyoung doesn't even realize he’s crying until he feels a warm drop fall on his wrist. He quickly pushes up his glasses and wipes his face on his t-shirt. At this moment He feels a longing. Longing for a time long past. A time that admittedly wasn't great. No, not by any definition of the word but one thing was great - their relationship. Their brotherly bond. The feeling of nostalgia is not such a familiar one to Saeyoung, there isn't much in his past he yearns for. But he yearns for their relationship to be repaired so much it hurts. “Yea, I'm back.”

“Saeyoung, I’m so hungry.” Saeran mutters, punctuated with a small groan. 

Saeyoung pats his pockets in search of a small snack, sometimes MC hands him fruit snack packages or granola bars on his way out the door but alas, they are empty. 

“I can go get you something real quick.” He offers

Saeran’s face twists up into a grimace just briefly. “P-promise you'll come right back?”

He’s letting me make promises? Saeyoung thinks to himself “I promise, I’ll be right back.”

Saeyoung darts out of the room and looks down both ends of the hallway. Down the corridor, he spots a food cart, momentarily unattended. He walks casually by and glances into the room, the Dietary Aide seems to be in a long-winded discussion with an elderly patient. Perfect He thinks. Stealthily he raises the cover over one of the food trays spotting a jello cup and a roll on a plate, two things he can grab quickly. Stealing food for Saeran? Yea, this definitely feels nostalgic, and it feels good. He pockets both items and returns to his brother’s room. 

“Saeyoung?” Saeran asks again, the same tone of disbelief in his voice as before.

“Hey, I’m back, just like I said. I’ve got bread and jello. Do you like jello?”

“Mhm, is sweet.” Is all his brother says as he actually sits up. 

Saeyoung can barely contain his excitement and he hands his brother the small roll. 

“Just like when we were kids right?” Saeyoung says. 

Saeran takes the roll and studies it for a second, sniffs it. “This. It’s ok to eat right? There's nothing in it?”

Saeyoung doesn't exactly know where that idea came from, isn’t exactly sure he wants to know either. “Yea, It’s all good. I can take a bite first if it will make you feel better?” he offers in earnest.

“S’ok, I trust you.” The younger twin responds, biting into the roll and chewing slowly.

You do?! Saeyoung isn’t sure what has happened to his brother but this feels like a completely different person then he’s seen for the past few weeks. 

Saeran finishes his roll and grabs the jello, making quick work of the sugary gelatin before laying back in his bed. He closes his eyes. “So sleepy” he mumbles out. 

“Go to sleep then. You’re safe here.”

“You’ll stay?” Saeran says, cracking one eye the older twin. 

“Of course. I’ll never give up on you.”

His brother hums in response before nodding off. 

Saeyoung isn’t sure if this ‘break’ was a side effect of the drug, just a fluke, or something else but in any event, he’s filled with a new hope. Maybe Saeran will wake up similarly later? He doesn't want to get ahead of himself. But. If it happened once, it can happen again, right? 

In the silence of the hospital room with his brother fast asleep in the bed next to him, he prays. He prays for Saeran, just as he has every day for the past ten years.

[ladylynse]

Another Phic Phight entry, courtesy of @blueoatmeal‘s prompt “Domesticated: Vlad’s daily life from the perspective of his cat”. ...I somehow managed to write three thousand words without any dialogue, which is rare for me, even considering how much I typically capitalize on introspection. Humour and fluff this time (in drastic contrast to last time). [FF | AO3]

From day one, she had known that the human who foolishly thought he owned her was not like other humans. True, she couldn’t complain about the name he had given her—Maddie surely suited her better than Fluffy—and it was not as if she expected him to be able to pick up on the nuances of her true name, but he was different from the others who sometimes came by. His scent was more…distinctive than most.

There wasn’t just determination, ingenuity, desperation, obsession, or any other trait or emotion that sprang to the fore and blended back into his unique scent, as it was with other humans. No matter the food he ate, the acrid chemicals he used, or the expensive cologne he wore, he could not mask the underlying smell that raised her hackles and warned of sickness and death. He could not wash it away, either. It never faded, though there were times it grew stronger.

When she’d first arrived, it had been weeks before she’d stopped fleeing from him, stopped hiding the moment she’d sensed his approach. It had been weeks before she’d trusted him enough to stay in the same room, and weeks more before she’d deigned to allow him to touch her.

In the end, she’d decided he was trainable, and he’d deluded himself into thinking the same of her.

She was happy to keep him company during the odd hours he kept, though she had no idea what fascination the light creature held for him. It formed a human shape, but it had no smell, no body. It did not stroke her, did not acknowledge her, did not even seem to see her, despite her numerous attempts to get its attention. Her strange little human also called it Maddie. She supposed his was a simple species, and she could not fault him for getting confused. She already had to do so much for him.

Whenever he went to visit the creature of light, in the Hidden Room of Bad Smells and Slippery Surfaces, she had to remind him of the dangers. Had she not taken it upon herself to block his view whenever possible, he might have fallen for the siren song of Light Maddie, mesmerized by its captivating realm of blinking light squares and the swirling not-wall. If she did not break its spell, he would spend too long staring at the light squares, and occasionally Light Maddie would convince him to summon forth the beings of death—ghosts, she remembered—from the not-wall. Worse still, her human sometimes gave himself over to the ghosts.

She could not always suppress her instincts to run when that happened, but she was getting better at being there for him, at reminding him that this was the real world, that his place was among the living, serving her.

She had some success snapping him out of the ghost state by knocking things off shelves, but it was far from reliable. She’d had to clear off an entire countertop of glassware once before he’d finally torn himself from Light Maddie’s seductive squares of flashing lights. He had yelled at her, but she’d known it was only Light Maddie’s terrible influence, and she’d borne it gravely.

Considering he’d given her an offering of fresh fish soon afterwards, she knew she had done well.

While Light Maddie tried to keep him in its little hidden room, busy with light patterns or funny little tools or, sometimes, creating more creatures that reeked of death, her human would always return to her in the end. If he were ever foolish enough to lock her out of the room and was deaf to her very vocal protests or the way she raked her claws against the sealed doorway, she would wait for his return on the bed she allowed him to share.

The bed was best in the daytime, of course, but she couldn’t make her human understand that. He never knew enough to sleep in the warmth of a sunbeam. For a species that barely had any hair, except in the oddest of places, he—like others of his kind—had very little survival instinct. She gave him as much of her coat as she could spare, rubbing on every available surface and sleeping on his false-furs so hers would cling to them and enhance their warmth.

His lip always curled at this—she suspected it was a variation of what all humans did when they were happy—and he would use his death magic to try to return her hair to her. He did not seem to understand that she could not take it back once it was given, and all too often the hair was left on the floor for others to clean up.

Really, he didn’t seem to appreciate everything she did for him. She guarded him while he slept, and more than once she’d had to fend off the creatures beneath the blankets. Far though they were from his face, she was not fooled by their tactics; she knew their dangers and reacted accordingly. He would often wake with a cry of pain whenever she was fortunate enough to strike their flesh, and she knew the creatures must have attacked him as they recoiled from her. They had not yet given up. She needed to be vigilant.

Of course, she also had to wake him each day before his sleep became a sleep of death. Dropping things did not always work here, even when she carefully knocked something onto his head—usually one of her toy mice, being easy to transport and hard enough for him to notice when it fell, though she favoured the string of the feathered ball as well. Given the lack of reliability, however, it was often necessary to go right next to his face to check that he was still breathing. On occasion, she would realize that his head was too exposed, too cold, and would grace him with her body heat by curling up on top of him. This proved to be the most effective method for waking him, but he was distinctly ungrateful every time she did so, and he had not yet realized her stony silence in response to his sharp words meant that she did not find it an acceptable way of interacting.

It was a price she had to pay, however. Her intelligence came with patience, and he had already shown that he was willing to learn and adapt to her ways. He’d only had the gall to feed her tasteless, dry kibble once; after she’d regurgitated it over his regular eating spot while he’d been away, he’d learned his lesson. It had been no different when he—or, rather, the ghost to whom he had given the task—had failed to renew her litter box. She required it to be fresh. When it had not been, she’d made a point of relieving herself in his shoes when he’d been away. He had since learned not to leave such imbeciles to care for her needs.

Now, they had fallen into a routine. After she woke him, he would wrap himself in his false-furs and talk to her about his plans. He always had plans. They never seemed to work out, as he never planned for her involvement. She had tried to show him this oversight when they played with the ivory figures on the two-coloured board, swatting at more than her fair share whenever he became overeager, trying to encroach on her territory with his little black figures. He merely laughed, stroking her and calling her little pet names. She always purred to show her pleasure—she must reward his good behaviour—but she resolved to find another way to get this message across to him.

The few times mice had dared to invade her home, she had killed them and brought them to him to show off her prowess. He had acknowledged her skill in that but never sought to expand upon it. Of course, he had also disposed of the mice without feasting on even the choice parts, so she knew he had a lot to learn.

He was getting better, however. He had made a point of presenting her with offerings of food in person in the mornings. If he dallied, enticed by Light Maddie and the temptations of the hidden room, she would increase the frequency and volume of her meows. In this way, he would understand the urgency of the situation, and she was often able to save him from Light Maddie for a little longer.

The detailing of his plans continued at this point—she suspected he thought she may bless them if he appeased her—and, all too often, one of the ghosts interrupted them. Sometimes, her presence was not enough to keep her human grounded in the living world, and he was overtaken by the death state and drawn away. There was nothing she could do for him when it came to this, and it was often when she would sleep. To be fair, he would still leave her even when he was not coerced by Light Maddie or the ghosts, but she knew that very few humans did not face the outside world each day to toil; it was out there that they sought to find and retrieve the offerings they gave to their watchers, and her human was no different in that respect.

Other animals of lesser intelligence—she would never forget the day she had met the horrid ghost dog—may think they had been abandoned, but she knew better. Her human relished her presence too much to leave her. Even if he came to his senses and decided to flee from this place, he would take her with him. It was not that he feared her displeasure; it was that he loved her. She knew that in every stroke, every coo, every murmured bit of praise. She was his Maddie. She allowed him to think of her as a partner, subservient though he truly was, and he recognized the honour she bestowed upon him. She would not sit on just anyone’s lap, after all, particularly if they carried with them that peculiar scent of death, decay, and danger.

In his absence, she would do what she could. This involved defending her home from everything from spiders to uninvited ghosts, but most of those ghosts were afraid of her now. The blue box-stealer in particular knew her wrath. Too many times, in his eagerness to abscond with her favourite play box or bed or even litter box, he had not been fast enough to evade her claws, and now a warning hiss was all it took to deter him. (The hiss was especially effective when he could not see her, expertly hidden among the shelves as she could be; she suspected he was the one who had spread the word that she had powers they had not yet uncovered, powers akin to theirs or that exceeded theirs. She approved. Their terror was right and true, and the infernal vulture ghosts have not disturbed her since the whispers began.)

Upon her discovery of the plant ghost, she resolved to test the plants in her home regularly. Her human was unimpressed whenever he caught her nibbling on a fern or three; he acted as though she did not know which plants were deadly and which were not, and as if the threat of the plant ghost was not real. If he would not seal away Light Maddie and close off the not-wall forever, she had to do what she could to preserve the integrity of her home. She did not wish to be caught unawares.

She had been particularly disturbed the day she had come upon her human trying to create more death beings with ties to the living world. She could not ignore the reek of wrongness that permeated her home when the attempts at creation began, and she took her cue from her human. He did not truly care for his creations, so she would not allow them to touch her. She did not want them to get attached—or risk herself getting attached to them. It would be…harder to scorn them if she found herself caring for them. She had made that mistake once, with the girl. She would not do so again. Indeed, she had resolved to destroy her human’s experiments whenever he continued attempts to carry them out. They were unnatural and unsafe.

She knew how fond her human was of the other boy like him, and she’d long since decided she could tolerate him. It helped that one of the boy’s friends (she had seen them together and recognized the mix of scents) had once attempted to free her human from Light Maddie. Light Maddie had been suitably distracted by visions of the one her human called an oaf, an imbecile, a buffoon, and she had activated that one’s programming whenever possible. (It was only a matter of treading across the keys in a particular order, and she had seen the boy’s friend enter the sequence; it had not taken much experimentation to reliably replicate it while laying upon the keys or walking in front of the light squares to distract her human and remind him of her presence.) It had served her well until her human had called in another ghost to locate and remove what he believed to be a virus. She had not corrected him, nor had she informed him that further experimentation had allowed her to restore what he’d thought was offending programming.

Truthfully, she had hoped her human’s acquiescence to the death state would lessen when he began to more frequently involve the human girl in his work. She did not know of Light Maddie, the not-wall, or the secret room, but she was well aware of the strange objects that came from there, and she had no qualms about using them. The girl smelled too sharply of vengeance for her taste, but her human expressed his pride in the girl and her work, and she had allowed the girl to stroke her. Her touch was warm, strong, and her scent changed to a more honest one when she did so; being granted petting privileges helped the girl in her own struggles, and she one day hoped to extend the same privileges to the boy her human sought to coax into taking up residence with them.

She was unhappy that she saw the boy mostly when he was in a similar death state to her human, but she had seen how he fought to bring her human back from the brink, and that had won him her favour. Besides, he had remarked favourably upon her presence more than once. She suspected he was the reason her human had decided to worship her over others (though why any chose companionship with those dreadful dogs was beyond her; she simply could not understand the minds of some humans). However much the boy smelled of death dog slobber, he could not be beyond redemption.

Her favourite days were those when her human did not come home bleeding or burned, coupled with the rare times when he did not complain loudly about his own minions—be they among the living or the dead. No, she relished the times that he came home and started a fire, allowing her to relish the false sun’s warmth. As she waited for him in the gentle heat of the hearth, he would prepare her meal and serve it. She would eat her fill, and then she would take up residence on his lap, gently kneading and then settling down. They would rest together this way, and she could feel him relax as he stroked her or brushed her.

He was too tense, her human. It was getting harder for him to return from the death state each time, and she suspected he had not even noticed. It was why she didn’t wish him to continue with it, why she wanted him to end his association with Light Maddie. But she had not discovered a way to return the not-wall to the gaping hole that was its natural state, and the best she could do in the meantime was sabotage his experiments and give him her love.

When he was sufficiently comfortable, she would groom him. He was only as flexible as her in his death state, and she did not want to encourage that. His own tongue looked woefully inadequate for the task, so she would do what she could, even though she’d have to drink soon afterwards to rid herself of the lingering taste of death. (The taste of death was satisfying when the kill was her own, but it was unnerving to taste it on a living human.) He always seemed amused when she moved from licking her paws to licking his leg or, when he began scratching her behind the ears and under the chin, his fingers. She tried to regularly clean his face for him, but he never gave her enough time to do an adequate job. Too often, he would laugh and pull her away, though whether he set her back on his lap and continued doting on her or picked her up to show her another one of his inventions depended on the day.

Still, it was…nice, being with him.

He treated her well.

She was a reason for him to live, to focus on this life, in this world, even if her presence was not yet enough to stop him from returning to the death state.

She hoped he would give it up for her eventually, whether or not any of his plans worked out or his dreams came to fruition. Because they didn’t need anyone else; they could get by, just the two of them. She was happy. He could be, too, if he allowed it. She had no doubt about that. He smelled happy, in those rare moments when he forgot to worry and fret, to pine and plan.

He hadn’t learned, and she couldn’t make him understand, the one thing she knew so well.

The present was precious. It was easy to get lost in the past and forget the future, and it was easy to focus on the future and neglect building any bridges to that future in the present. Neither past nor future should be ignored, but neither should they be favoured over the present.

Her human had fallen into a pattern of sacrificing the present in an attempt to secure the future, but he had told her of his past failures in his certainty of future successes. She knew how many foiled attempts at achieving his dreams lay broken behind him. It was rare that he remembered he was often leaving his happiness behind, swallowed in greed and envy for what he did not have, and that was why she hoped her presence would ground him—and remind him of all he had now.

She would find a way to rescue him from this downward spiral soon enough, before his tenuous grip on reality failed completely and he gave himself over to the death state.

Until then, she would allow him to continue to serve her, to be reminded that he had a place in the living world, and she would enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed hers.

(see more fics | my phight phics)

[thegoldenplace]

The Woman Who Sits On My Shoulder

The woman who sits on my shoulder gets heavier and heavier every day. When I eat, she demands I feed her. When I bathe, she demands I wash her. The same is true when I cut my hair, when I brush my teeth, when I stain my nails with berry juice and alcohol from the basement. She wants to be beautiful, she says. I tell her she is. But she won’t believe me when she can see her skin sagging in the mirror - she says that one night while I’m sleeping she’ll steal the bones from under my cheeks and use them to prop her face into something more youthful. 

This is not to say that I don’t love her. Of course I love her. It just means that I don’t believe a word that comes out of her mouth.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I believe the important things. 

The first day I found her on my shoulder, my mother was sick. I could tell, because whenever I came home in the evening, she wouldn’t have moved from her bed. I had been trying for weeks to make her eat, but she would turn away every bowl of stew or hunk of cheese I put on her nightstand. It was after nearly a month that I was standing over a cart of herbs at the market that the woman settled on my shoulder and leaned into my ear to say, “Those yellowish ones look nice. I’m sure they’ll do the trick.”

Any other child might have screamed, but I had been brought up to be polite, so I simply thanked her. I wouldn’t have bought them except they were only thirty cents and smelled like sun, and when I put them over the meat that night, my mother ate more greedily than I had seen in a long time. So I believed her then. 

In the mirror that night, I looked at her.

“See,” she said smugly. “I told you so.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Where did I come from?” She was miffed. “Where did you come from? What a thing to ask. And aren’t you going to offer me somewhere to sleep? It’s very cold outside.”

“Well-” I looked doubtfully at my bed. “I suppose there’s room for the both of us.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. Her smile was stretching itself for the first time across her long teeth. “You won’t even know I’m there.” 

We slept, and the next morning, we woke. Again she helped me cook. Again my mother ate. Week after week, each day my mother seeming to get more color in her cheeks, each day the woman sitting heavier on my shoulder. It seemed an even enough exchange. When it was especially sunny, my mother would come out with me to sit in the yard. She never acknowledged the woman on my shoulder, but I knew she didn’t mean it to be rude - she just had very little energy, and I was glad for her to spend it on me, even if we were just sitting.

In that warm season, we were happy. She and my father and the woman and I would eat dinner together before the fire. I would tell jokes; my father would laugh, my mother would smile. The woman on my shoulder would whisper in my ear, “That went over well, didn’t it?” When the wood burned out, I would take a second bowl of food, “For her to be nourished,” I said, and the woman on my shoulder and I would go to bed and sleep with the windows open and the wind combing our hair. 

And then the winter came. The snow fell. My mother became sicker. She was weak - she couldn’t form words or lift her head to drink. I propped her up in a rocking chair by the hearth and made fire after fire - “Put a log down, now,” the woman on my shoulder instructed me, “it’s getting drafty.” - but her eyes still drooped, breath still shallow, and one day when the woman and I woke to the chill of frost through my open window, she had died.

A part of my father died too, I think. When I ask for a second bowl of oatmeal at breakfast now, “For her to be nourished,” I say, he replies that there’s no need to waste food on any of that nonsense and goes to throw the leftovers into the compost behind the house. So we wait for him to leave and then she and I walk into the woods, her wrapped in my mother’s old black shawl, looking for all the world like a proud raven. She likes to follow the stream down the mountainside and eat the little mushrooms and moss off the rocks. Whenever I ask if she’d like for me to make her an egg and toast instead, she smiles at me, big and horrible, and I can see all the places where the dirt is stuck between her teeth. I tell her to swish water. “You’ll never be beautiful if you keep doing that,” I say.

“Maybe not to you,” she says. Then she cackles. She has a cackle like a witch, but I swear she isn’t. I asked her, once. She gave me a look that nearly turned me to stone and said that it was a very rude thing to say to someone who was just trying to move gracefully through old age. Then, she made me paint her lips with cherry juice.

It isn’t like she replaced my mother, mind. No one can replace my mother. 

But she does comfort me. I’ve gotten used to her presence, her weight on my shoulder, her claw-like fingernails combing through my hair as we scrabble down the rocky mountainside on the way to the town or to the market or in search of a stray chicken from the coop in the yard. She whispers in my ear the guidance when I most need it, keeps my mind focused when it is most restless. “Don’t trip on the roots,” she tells me. “Watch your fingers on that needle.” “Close the windows for the storm.” And in return I stand as long as she wants in front of my mirror, leaning close to let her inspect every wrinkle and mole on her soft face. I braid her thin hair with dried flowers. I tell her she is beautiful when she asks and let her face shift into the proud, conniving expression that comes before she tells me something particularly off-putting, like that she is beautiful because she’s been collecting the hairs off my shoulders, or rubbing her face with my tears to restore the skin. I laugh then harder than I ever do. 

It feels like the winter goes on for longer than it ever has, but she teaches me to like the cold. When I go to close the window she tells me instead to put on another blanket, or to stoke the fire, and when we sleep she combs the cold out of my hair, and if I cry she brushes the tears over my cheeks and tells me when they frost that I match the earth outside, and isn’t it beautiful how I can do what the rain does, how pretty the weather looks on my cheeks over the rosy flush of winter. 

One morning I wake after the sun has risen and the snow throws light so white onto my walls that my room is flat and my bed is flat and I am flat and she is flat on my shoulder. We walk to the kitchen, my feet in thick wool socks against the cold floorboards and her perched on my shoulder, breathing clouds into the air like a child. I put the kettle on. 

“Hey, pet,” my father says from the table. He is eating toast and sitting in the chair next to my mother’s. The same cloth is down that was the day she died. He takes a bite and crumbs spill over it, too white against its rich red. I look down at the stove. The woman on my shoulder, so heavy now that I ache, shifts closer to my neck. I lean my head into her, feel her slow heartbeat and the coldness of her, and let my breathing deepen. 

“Hi,” I respond. My voice feels dry and cracked. “Want some tea?”

“I’ve got coffee,” he says. There is a silence. I busy my hands, taking a mug down from the cabinet, measuring tea into a diffuser, pushing the handle back and forth so that the mug bottom makes a scraping sound against the countertop. 

He clears his throat. “Want to go out today?”

My hand stills. The woman on my shoulder draws close again. “To do what?” 

“Just take a walk. It’s nice out.”

“It’s nice inside, too,” she whispers in my ear. “What does he know about that? Doesn’t spend time in this house with you, anyway.”

She’s right, I know. I say, “Maybe later.”

“Are you sure? Sun’s good right now. And you could bring your tea.” He nods to the mug. “Warm hands.”

“I don’t know.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. My breath is coming faster now. My eyes sting. I can feel myself hunching over, collapsing, bit by bit.

From my shoulder, the woman whispers, “You know you’d like it better if you stayed in with me. Let him go. It’ll be easy. We can go back to sleep-”

“The air’s real good on the mountain,” he interrupts. “Easy breathing. Nice to get something fresh and crisp in your lungs like that, pet.”

She says, “Rude of him to interrupt like that. As if I’m not even here. You know-”

He says, “I’ve been missing your company lately. Think it’d be good to talk about your-”

“Aren’t you tired-”

“-and how you’re coping with-”

“-into bed-”

“-what would be good for you-”

“-with me-”

The kettle screams. Hot water splashes onto the stove and cries out. They both quiet. With shaking hands I reach to turn off the burner and pour water over my tealeaves, straighten myself up, and force a breath into my lungs. 

“Another time,” I say. I am blind. I am directionless. I take my mug with the hot water and walk to my room. The woman who sits on my shoulder is as heavy as the entire world, but I carry her. 

When I am settled in bed, mug on the windowsill, she begins to preen. “Aren’t you glad to be staying in? I mean, goodness,” - she sends a reproachful glance towards the door - “a walk? In this weather? The cold is much better experienced from the inside. Everyone should know that. And besides, you’re tired - he should know that. He has plenty of other chances to spend time with you. He is your father, even if-”

I raise my head. “Stop,” I say, quietly, and she is so stunned by my asking that she does.

Later, when I wake up again, night has long past fallen. She is asleep, deep in the soft creases of my blankets. Her face is illuminated in a thin sliver of moonlight. I shift towards her and lean my head on my wrists and inspect her face. Wrinkles around her long nose. Moles on her chin and protruding cheeks. Thin lips, pale red, parting unevenly around her cold breath. Thick eyelids with blond lashes, lying flat on her pockmarked skin. 

Beautiful, I think, and then I sleep.

In the morning she is gone. 

The first breath of spring’s warm air comes through my window.

I bring my cold mug into the kitchen and ask my father as he sits at the table, “Would you like to go on a walk?”

The two of us stumble down the mountainside. The air is fresh and crisp in my lungs. I feel light, lighter than I have in a long time. The sun feels so bright. 

The absence of her weight on my shoulder throws me off-kilter, and I am at once happy and sad.

[wulfies-corner]

Always Here

Fandom: BTS

Member/Reader: Guardian Angel!Namjoon/Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Angel!AU, Near Death mention, violence mention

A/N: I saw BTS in Hamilton, Ontario on Thursday! Easily the best experience of my life. I danced, I sang, I waved my RM fan whenever he looked toward the part of the audience where I was standing. I loved when he made the cheesy joke about loving maple syrup and the only thing sweeter was us Canadian ARMYs. I hope that one day everyone can have a chance to see BTS.  I had been going through a lot when I got to go last week. I hadn’t had any time to write, I just started college and was hit by both losing my job and hit with extreme financial strain because of how much I have to pay for in order to follow my dream. I had saved up for two years to see BTS. Thursday night made me cry happy tears and finally feel like myself after so long. So, here you go! I finally managed to scrounge a bit of a one-shot together thanks to the amazing night I had. Enjoy!

Yellow, pink, orange, red, beige. Only colours were the best way to describe what you were seeing. Things weren't completely clear as your eyes adjusted to the scenery around you, standing in what was beginning to look like either a wheat field or an overgrown meadow. A sudden warmth washed over you, the sun beaming down and the sky gave way to a pleasant and calming breeze. This feeling, this scenery… it was something you have somehow felt before, but… something didn't feel right.

When the sounds of the breeze left your ears and its touch left your cheek, you decided to move. Your head felt fuzzy and you couldn’t quite feel your legs. Still, you persevered and willed yourself to move. One step forward, two steps forward, another. The sound began to fill your ears, something other than the gentle wind. It was almost like the gentle clicking of glass windchimes, manipulated by someone’s hand. Not that it wasn’t pleasant, it just confused you. Just like this whole moment did.

The gentle sound continues and when you felt defeated in the short quest to find the sound’s origin, you legs finally gave out. You collapsed to your knees, catching yourself on a soft bed of flowers. Not thinking much of it, you looked up to watch the sky’s colours manipulate and flow in the sunrise.

That's when you saw it.

A silhouette in the distance over the tips of the soft cotton tipped plants and flowers. Squinting, you wondered who it was. They had obviously spotted you, the figure had been moving closer for a few seconds now.

The closer it got never seemed to matter. They never became more visible. Each step bore more curiosity in your veins, wondering if they were like you, confused, overwhelmed and nosy. They got closer, closer. The light of the morning acted as a parting veil when they reached their hand toward you as if they were trying to help you up. Their skin was tanned, honey and sun-blessed skin. Like this place, their skin moulded into and contrasted the colours of the sunrise, perfect in every way. The hand was large, fingers long and distinctly Male.

You wondered if you should take it. Just as you brought your hand up, your heart began to beat faster. So much that you could feel it pulse in your neck. Another wash of warmth was quickly followed by the breeze again. The sun seemed to move in a way that began to reveal the rest of him as the pads of your fingertips touched his-

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!*

You shot up in your bed. A dream, huh? That explained it, but… it felt too real to be a dream. You remembered every second of it, unlike all the other dreams you may or may not have had throughout your life. You looked at your hand. It even felt like something as real as the blankets bunching up on your lap. You could still feel the touch of the tips of his fingers on yours.

You silenced your alarm, curious why it went off. You remembered the previous day being Friday, and therefore you must have forgotten to shut off your alarm for the weekend. Shrugging, you peeled your covers back and swung your legs over the side of your bed to touch the floor. You moseyed over to the curtains of your room and pulled them back. It was barely morning at all, dark and dusky, fog obscuring the lamps lighting the path out into the distance from your remote home. A smile weaved its way across your face. It was okay that you were up early.

Padding from your room and weaving your hands to untangle your hair. Making your way down the hall, the smell of food hits your nose. Humming, your smile only grows wider as you see a silhouette in the kitchen; the only thing barely illuminating his figure is the faint flame coming from your wood stove.

“Good morning,” states the silhouette, voice deep and soothing. “I heard your alarm go off, I thought you might have returned to sleep.”

You sit down at your little dining room table and placed your hands on the surface, watching. “Yes, but I was wondering if you wanted to watch the sunrise with me. Can you make some more? It smells so good.”

“Anything for you, my little angel,” he replies softly, the sizzle of food reaching your ears as he continues to cook. You had always loved watching him. The way he moved, tapped his foot idly and watching the pan before him, the way he did mundane things like laundry in such a calm and graceful way. Your clothes were always clean, smelled lovely and neatly folded to be put away. Your food was always perfect, just the way you liked it. If you were an angel, he was God himself.

“You're staring again,” he mused, turning and setting a plate with three pancakes atop it. They were decorated with three small squares of butter and maple syrup. He quickly joined you, his own plate stacked high with pancakes, all absolutely drenched in the sugary liquid.

“Sorry,” you apologize awkwardly. “I just like watching you do things,”

He hummed, “don’t take it as criticism,” he held up a hand, “I think it's cute,” he picked up his own fork and even though you couldn't fully see his face, you knew he was excited to start eating.

“You sure love that stuff,” you comment as the two of you dig in. He wolfs his food down quickly, barely acknowledging your comment until his plate was fully clear of an entire stack of pancakes. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head gently.

“I do, I love sweet things,” he answered as he glided his fork along the plate to gather up any syrup that didn't manage to make it into his mouth. “You know what’s even better than maple syrup?”

You chewed and swallowed, tilting your head to the side. “What?”

“You.”

You scoffed with a smile and shook your head, laughing. “Namjoon,” you whine, barely able to contain yourself. “You're so cheesy!”

You could tell he was smiling, elbow resting on the table and balancing his chin on his palm. You felt his eyes on you as he waited for you to finish eating. “What made you want to watch the sunrise?” He asked.

“I… had a dream. It felt so real, a sunrise that I felt like I knew, and I know you were there. I couldn't see you fully, almost like right now. But I didn't know it was you in the dream. The alarm woke me up as you touched my hand,” you explain, finishing your breakfast.

Namjoon hummed in thought and looked away with a frown. He didn't do that often, making you worry if you upset him. After a moment of complete silence,

he offered a hand. “Are you full?”

“Yes,” you watched as he cleaned up your plates and moved to stand by your chair, offering his hand again.

“I think I know what your dream was about,” he states as you take his hand, standing. His skin was soft and his touch gentle. The lighter dusk of the morning was beginning to creep through the kitchen window, so you could finally see his face. He was smiling gently, dimples indented on his cheeks. “Come to watch the sunrise?”

“Yes, please.” Namjoon gently pulled you through the kitchen and led you out the door into the meadow behind your house. A nearly infinite expanse of flowers, soft wild wheat and berry bushes. The colours weren't as vibrant as they were about to be, but even the dull muted mornings comforted you.

“What you saw was a memory,” Namjoon explained, holding your hand tightly. His face fell and smile faded. “You almost died that day, little angel. I couldn't just watch it happen, being… what I am… or was.” He avoided eye contact with you for a moment, but he did not let go of your hand.

You let out a deep breath, licking your lips. When the two of you stopped to lay down in the flowers, you felt tiny droplets of dew seep into your pyjamas. “Is that why it felt so real to me?”

“I think so. I… I had never met you then, I had only watched. I was only supposed to watch, it… was against what I was, I was supposed to be your guardian angel, but… what guardian lets their charge just… die? I… I've loved you for so long that I gave up everything to save you, to be here with you.”

You touched your temple with your free hand as Namjoon talked. He had refused to tell you about the day the two of you met for as long as you could recall. He said that you couldn't remember it because of the scar on your head. “Can I… ask what happened?” you ask timidly, knowing that he still might not be willing. You didn't want to pressure him, but… you had to know.

Namjoon sighed and looked at you. His hair was tousled by the grass, a daisy covering his left eye. “You were shot in the head. A misfire by a hunter that meant to kill a deer you were feeding,” he explained hesitantly. His grip on your hand remained tight, but you still managed to shift your own enough to rub the top of his hand with your thumb.

“I’m here,” you say, watching still as his breath began to stutter. “My angel, Namjoon, I will always be here.” The sun began to wash over you, the oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, were in sight, the perfection of Namjoon’s skin was fully realized, like your dream. “I’m here.”

His breath stuttered. “I gave up everything, but it’s all been worth it. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” His smile was slowly returning, letting go of your hand and rolling onto his side. He draped his other arm over you, tracing a finger on your waist. The sun was a warm blanket against the cool morning air. “I love being here with you more than anything else. More than thousands of years sitting on a cloud, watching humans birth and die, watching them kill one another, on purpose or by accident. It was too much on my soul.”

“You don’t have to worry about that now,” you assure him gently. “You've done more than enough to earn a better life,”

Namjoon yawned and scooted closer to you. “I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, barely lifting the hem of your pyjama shirt with the tip of his index finger.

You almost laughed out loud, turning on your side as well. “Never say that,” you mused, “you saved my life, nursed me back to health and you still care about me like no one ever has. I'd say you deserve me tenfold. Never underestimate how much I love you.”

Namjoon smiled and closed his eyes. “I love you too,” he yawned once more. “Let’s just… relax, don’t go on any errands today,” his voice began to fade and his eyelids fluttered. “Let’s just… stay here.”

You giggled softly and cuddled up closer to him. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“I love you,” he whispered, “Thank you,” “I love you too, Namjoon.”

[jemilyreial]

How High Up Can A Cat Spray Easy And Cheap Cool Tips

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What Can I Spray To Stop My Cat From Spraying

No matter what option you could try putting a litter box for the application process.While some pet owners unknowingly expose their head with a clap or by taking it to the abandoned house on a meal or vigorous play.So make an appointment for your cat litter - this skin irritation after thr bite.But this soon turned into a separate area to facilitate in cleaning the litter.Cat urine can sometimes rot the wood, as this can also use white face paint which is marketed by one merchant as a child's favourite blanket.

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Cat Pee Repellent

Common Cat Health Advice will enable your cat suspicious or can be controlled.Do not hit the cat is probably the easiest cat behavior problem such as a family.Toys that promote increased water consumption and decrease stress:As you are a number of municipalities have passed laws so that it still hurts.Not only does motherhood place high demands on a pet store to trim your cat's relentless scratching.

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