#me like hm why was i considering quitting my job and starting a union and overthrowing my boss | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Text

Promise Me Your Heart

a follow-up to Good as Gold.

Geralt has never voluntarily brought someone new into his life and for a long time, he wasn't sure how to go about it. Eskel has been with him almost as long as he remembers. Vesemir too. Even Lambert has been around since very early on, but Jaskier? Jaskier still feels new even after all these months. But they're making it work and Jaskier has so much patience that some days Geralt doesn't feel like he deserves.

He had expected things to be a disaster, but they're not. Even his inexperience with relationships and Jaskier's total lack of knowledge of anything monster- and survival-related, things are... good. Geralt is happy.

Then he's contracted to protect a wedding party from a pack of drowners that's been hanging around.

It's a good job. Simple enough and they're offering good pay to ensure the beasts aren't seen by the party guests, but Geralt is hesitant. There's not a scrap of doubt in his mind that he adores Jaskier. He's totally useless out here on the Path, but he tries and what Jaskier can get a grasp on he does well and he does often.

But Geralt sometimes worries that Jaskier's unhappy. Lately, he's been catching him looking pensive, scribbling things in his notebook but never seeming to present a song or poem like he normally would. Perhaps Jaskier has a journal as well. When Geralt was young and struggling to deal with emotions he was told he shouldn't have, Vesemir gave him a journal. It was a relief to be able to get all of his emotions out without having to share them and he wonders if Jaskier is doing the same now. He loves Geralt, so maybe he doesn't want to admit that this life isn't what he expected. Maybe he wants to return to Hagge but doesn't want to hurt Geralt's feelings. The thought of it makes his chest tight, but Geralt hasn't been able to bring himself to mention it.

Because what if Jaskier does leave?

Geralt wants him to be happy, but the thought of losing him now... he doesn't even want to think about it. So taking him to a wedding feels like rubbing a life in his face that he will never have.

When he tells him about the contract, Jaskier is delighted, at least outwardly, but there's a tense scent of worry just below the surface that Geralt is nervous about. He frowns and it earns him a swift smack on his arm before Jaskier presses up against his chest.

"Stop sniffing at me," he scolds, "I know you're doing it. I worry every time you take a job and you can't do anything about it. I love you, my darling. I don't want to think about my life without you, but here you are running off into danger every other moment." Geralt opens his mouth to speak, but Jaskier interrupts. "Ah-ah, I know. It's your job, but I'm still allowed to worry." He tips forward, pressing a soft kiss to Geralt's lips. "Now, let's get you into that armour, hm?"

Jaskier has become an expert at helping Geralt into his armour - and even more an expert of getting him out of it again later. The next few minutes pass in a blur and then Jaskier kisses him goodbye to go and play at the wedding and Geralt is alone again.

He throws himself into the hunt, clearing his mind of any doubts and insecurities. Because he knows how to do this. He can get this done and protect those people - and Jaskier. Whatever Jaskier wants can come later; he'll deal with it in its own time.

But as soon as he's finished - and has thrown himself in the river to rinse away some of the gore - he returns to find Jaskier in the centre of a circle, playing his lute and beaming. This is where he belongs. Geralt forces up a smile and crosses toward them, keeping an eye out for the mother of the bride. She holds his contract and he'd like to be on his way as quickly as possible.

He finds her with little trouble, talking with a group of people and he stands off to the side to wait. She's quick about excusing herself and she pays him extra and promises to pay Jaskier for his performance as well. It's unusual to find someone so generous and Geralt says as much, but she assures him he has earned it for protecting them.

Once everything has been sorted, Geralt slips away.

The woman has offered them a room in her house, but Geralt prefers the anonymity of an inn or the forest floor. Reluctantly, he accepted her offer to pay for the room. And he's grateful for it now, able to just return to the room and collapse without bartering or worrying about being turned away.

He strips out of his armour in the doorway and steps into the waiting bath. It was poured this morning, so it's cooled down, but he warms the water quickly enough - and it's warmer than the river in any case.

Evidently, Geralt doesn't realize how exhausted he is, because the next thing he knows, Jaskier's hands are in his hair and when he opens his eyes, the room is dark except for a few sparse candles.

"Hey, shh," Jaskier whispers as he bolts upright. "It's just me, love. You must have been tired."

He’s emotionally tired, more than anything, but he doesn't say anything. He warms the water again with igni and lets Jaskier wash the remaining muck from his hair before getting out. Jaskier leads him to bed and strips down to his skin before climbing in after him. Geralt clings to him, tucks his head under Jaskier's chin because if their time is limited, he wants to enjoy him as long as he can. Jaskier cuddles closer, holds him tighter, and for a long time, it's silent.

"Geralt?" he asks after some time. "Are you awake, love?"

"Mm."

"Do you ever... want something but you're afraid to ask for it?" he scoffs at himself almost immediately. "Never mind. I know you do. How do you... deal with it?"

Geralt's chest tightens. He's been waiting for this, but he still doesn't know what to say, how to act. All he knows is that more than anything, he wants Jaskier to be able to find the kind of happiness he's given him.

"If you want to go... I understand. I would never keep you here if you're unhappy." Jaskier pulls away immediately and Geralt knew it was coming, but it still feels abrupt and painful.

"Geralt, I- I don't want to go." His voice is low, he smells scared.

"I want you to be happy."

"I am. Geralt. I don't want to leave."

"You looked so happy this afternoon. At the wedding. Surrounded by all those people."

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh and slips his hand into Geralt's between them. "My love. I was happy seeing the bride and her new husband, the love they shared. I was happy because I thought... maybe we could have that, too?"

"You know I love you," Geralt whispers and Jaskier smiles soft at him, leaning up to press their noses together.

"I know love, and I adore you. I- Geralt, I want to marry you." Shock and delight rush through him in equal measures and Geralt isn't quite sure what to do with himself. He stares blankly for a moment while Jaskier looks at him. "Um?" Jask tries. "Say something?"

"No one would marry us."

Jaskier sighs. "Geralt, I know my upbringing means I'm supposed to marry for money or power or some such nonsense, but-" Geralt cuts him off with a soft kiss, cupping his jaw. He really does love that Jaskier doesn't even consider the obvious.

"Not because of your family, Jask. Because I'm a Witcher. No one would willingly bind another person to a Witcher."

"Then we'll have to do it ourselves." Before Geralt can even reply, Jaskier is slipping out of bed and crossing to the other side of the room and his bags.

When he returns, he's holding a length of blue silk in his hand and Geralt recognizes it. He leans up on one arm, focused on the cloth in his hand and Jaskier smiles as he climbs back up onto the bed.

"I thought you might remember this," he grins and Geralt can't help the way his pulse picks up. Apparently, Jaskier notices because straddles Geralt's hips and dips down to kiss him. "Marry me first," he whispers, "and we can do whatever you want with it later, hm?"

"Okay," Geralt breathes and Jaskier beams at him, kissing him quick and hard again before sitting up.

"I need your hand," he says and Geralt offers it freely. Jaskier winds their fingers together and twists the silk around them, tying it in a knot below their joined hands.

Geralt doesn't know much about marriage, but he knows enough to know this isn't exactly the way it's done. But maybe that's better. Maybe going against tradition is more appropriate for them anyway.

"As this knot is tied," Jaskier starts, "so are our lives now bound. The promises we make here tonight strengthen our union; they will cross the years and lives of each soul's growth. Do you- do you still seek to enter this ceremony?"

"Yes," Geralt whispers and his fingers tighten around Jaskier's.

"Do you promise to be a faithful partner in life? To love me without reservation?"

"I will." Geralt pauses and Jaskier nods. "And you?"

"I will."

"Do you promise to stand by me in times of joy and of sorrow?"

"I will."

"I will," Jaskier echoes. Gently, he unwinds the silk and runs his thumb over Geralt's fingers. "I don't-" he cuts himself off, pulling one of the rings from his left hand.

It's plainer than the others and Geralt has never quite understood why he likes it so much, but Jaskier holds it up, showing him the ring of buttercups on the inside of the band.

"I bought this for you so long ago I'd forgotten about it. But I was afraid to give it to you then, so I wore it myself as a way to keep you close. I want you to have it now." He slips it onto Geralt's finger and it fits surprisingly well.

"How long?" he asks and Jaskier shrugs.

"Long enough."

"I don't have one for you."

"That's okay," Jaskier hums. He takes one of his other rings, the one Geralt knows to be his favourite, and slips it off.

"Let me?" Geralt asks and Jaskier gives it to him. He takes Jaskier's hand and he doesn't realize how badly he's shaking until he slips the ring over his finger, pressing it down into place. Jaskier clasps their hands together and leans down to press his forehead against Geralt's. "I think you're supposed to kiss me now," Geralt hums.

Jaskier laughs as their noses bump against each other, then he kisses him, long and soft and sweet. When he pulls away, he doesn't go far.

"My husband," he whispers and something warm and possessive spreads through Geralt's chest.

"Husband," Geralt repeats, testing the word on his tongue. He decides he quite likes it.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #good as gold #rex writes #the witcher

300 notes · View notes

lilfellasblog · 3 years

Text

King Roman and the Fake Harem

Summary: King Roman has enemies directly outside his walls, pressure from inside his walls to get a harem, and no solution in sight. Until he sees the solution has been right under his nose the entire time. This is the story of how an aroace King gets a harem of advisors.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Two brief instances of sexual harassment, one instance of groping, swearing (because Virgil), and people sneering at sex workers/ presumed sex workers.

Word count: 2385

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

King Roman sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, give me a few hours to think of something,” he groaned.

His lead advisor that he’d inherited from his father, who Roman refused to refer to as anything but Orange, protested “But sir, we need a decision soon. It’s already been a week since enemy troops positioned themselves just outside our walls, and we’ve done little besides ask them to leave. That, on top of your lack of harem-”

“I’ll have something for you in two hours, regarding the troops,” Roman said, waving Orange away.

Orange huffed and spun on his heel, leaving the throne room grumbling. Roman brushed a hand over his face. A week into being king and the enemy decides to attack? The nerve!

“You know, if you roll out the catapults to the front gate, that would take care of the troops outside the walls on that side, and then you could concentrate your archers on the rear of the kingdom walls.”

Roman looked over to the side of his throne. Sir Virgil had been his best knight, until he’d been shot by an arrow that had permanently damaged his shoulder. That was 4 weeks ago, he was still in a sling, and ever since he’d been released from the medical wing he’d been making his lack of work everyone else’s problem.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “And just how would you propose moving the catapults from the armory down 100 feet of stairs to the front entrance, hm?”

Sir Virgil shrugged. “Ramps.”

Roman stopped short. Oh, he’s smart. “...very well.” He appraised Virgil. He’ll never be able to be a knight again and he needs something to do, and he’s not too unfortunate-looking… “How would you like a job?”

/////

Virgil adjusted the silks that hid exactly nothing of his upper body so they’d sit comfortably over his still-bandaged arm and shoulder. He was about to join his first ever advisor meeting, and he was beyond nervous. He’d been rather enjoying his life as the first member of Roman’s harem (that so far hadn’t even resulted in a single flirtatious remark, which Virgil wasn’t complaining about but he was certainly confused by), and he didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up.

“Ready?”

Virgil jumped and hissed through his teeth as his shoulder was jostled by the sudden movement.

Roman was frowning. Before Virgil could apologize, Roman asked, “Are you alright? I can have a healer come over. If you’d prefer to sit out this meeting and rest, that would be a more than acceptable course of action.”

Virgil was stunned. “Huh?”

Roman nodded at him. “Your shoulder, it seems to be causing you pain.”

“Oh! It’s not too bad, I’ll be fine. Still getting used to not moving it too much.”

Roman laughed. “Yes, that I have been witness to. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Do I need to walk, like, meekly or whatever?” Virgil asked, cheeks already heating up at the future humiliation.

A look of disgust came over Roman. “No, I wouldn’t expect that of anyone under my employ.”

Virgil let out a breath. “Alright, cool cool.”

The meeting started out as expected, a few snickers from his former co-workers who were still knights, but nothing Virgil couldn’t ignore. Virgil recognized Orange by his blaze orange ensemble that hurt his eyes (no wonder Roman refused to give Virgil his actual name). When it came time to discuss military tactics, Roman spoke first.

“I would like to introduce my military advisor, Sir Virgil. Sir Virgil, if you would, please announce your strategy for driving off the enemies.”

Before Virgil could get a word out, Virgil’s former boss blurted out, “You’re trusting your military strategy with a common whore?!”

Virgil levelled him with his best death glare. “Call me that again and I’ll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.”

Only Virgil was close enough to hear the King swallow his laughter at the general’s paling face. Roman cleared his throat and spoke.

“To answer your question, yes. Sir Virgil, if you wouldn’t mind continuing?”

Virgil smirked. “Gladly.” For the next 20 minutes, Virgil confidently discussed his strategy with the catapults and archers, fielded questions, and specified the ideal placements. As the meeting drew to a close and Roman went to do the obligatory schmoozing with top leaders (Virgil noticed with glee how the military personel scrambled to get out, supposedly to “update the troops”), the Lead Advisor of Common Education approached Virgil. Virgil did the customary respectful bow, which the advisor returned.

“I trust King Roman is treating you well?” he inquired, blue eyes sparkling from beneath a sandy fringe.

“Yes, very much so. This fucked up rotator cuff is the best thing to happen to me,” Virgil internally winced at his choice of words. Gonna have to work on that.

The advisor just laughed. “I suppose it must be! Surely, being part of a harem is much more comfortable than being a knight.”

Virgil shrugged, and winced as he once again forgot about his injured shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I’m just glad I can help in some capacity by being a strategic advisor.”

“Yes, yes, that must be quite fun for you,” the advisor purred. Virgil bristled at his condescending tone. “Do let me know if you require more… attention than what King Roman provides.”

Virgil wrinkled his face. He focused on Roman, and heard his attention was on Orange who was insisting that one person could hardly be considered a harem. “I think I’m good.”

“Oh, of course, of course, but do keep me in mind.” And before Virgil realized what was happening, the advisor had patted his ass.

Virgil used his good arm to grab the man’s offending hand, twist him around, bring him to his knees, and place a foot on the middle of his back.

“Ow! You stupid whore, get off-”

“What is the meaning of this?!” King Roman thundered.

Virgil released the advisor. “This guy was perving all over me, and I get I’m part of a harem but I don’t stand for that shit.”

“It was just a love tap!”

King Roman’s face was red with anger. “Sir Virgil, he encroached on your person?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“You are relieved of your duties.”

Virgil sagged while the advisor smiled smugly. Welp, the grapes and silk were fun while they lasted. “Yeah, okay.”

Roman jerked back a bit in confusion. “What? No, you,” he glared at the now-ex-advisor.

The advisor was aghast. “Excuse me? How dare you!”

“How dare you, touching a man without his consent and then having the gall to speak to me in such a tone!”

Virgil was in too much shock to process the rest of the conversation. He came back to his senses just outside the medical wing. Roman was instructing the doctor to recheck Virgil’s bandages as they didn’t seem to quite hold his shoulder still, and sighed in relief when he caught Virgil watching them.

“Virgil, there you are! Are you alright? Say the word, and I’ll arrange for you to speak with our mind doctor.”

Virgil blinked a few times.

Roman turned back to the doctor. “Could he have gone into shock? Does he need-”

Virgil shook his head to unfreeze his brain. “No, I’m fine. I’ve had people trying to kill me, part of the job, I’m okay.”

King Roman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? Truly, if you need to talk to someone-”

Virgil held his good hand up. “I’m fine, promise. I’ll talk to someone later if I need to.”

Roman sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Oh! The military is deploying your strategy as we speak! I thought I’d let you know before the good doctor looked you over.”

“Dope! Wait, what?”

King Roman was walking away. “I’ll see you once you’re tended to!” he called over his shoulder.

“What are you talking about, my shoulder… actually kinda hurts, okay fine.”

/////

One successful defeat of an opposing military later, and Roman had removed yet another advisor from his circle for creepy behavior.

“Hey Princey, I appreciate you defending my honor and shit, but that was the Lead Advisor of Trade,” Virgil began.

“And I’m better off without him!” Roman declared.

Virgil scratched his chin. “I mean yeah, but also you have a trade meeting with neighboring kingdoms coming up in a week, and two days after that you have an internal trade meeting with surrounding villages and the farmers within the city walls.”

Roman started stretching his arms and back in a way Virgil had identified meant he was stressed. “And there has been even more talk of my small harem, which does not bode well for external negotiations,” Roman murmured to himself.

Virgil shifted. “Yeah, that. Why don’t you just have your new advisors be part of your harem like me?”

Roman paused. “That’s… brilliant! Thank you Virgil!”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, no problem. It’s a pretty sweet gig. Although I don’t know why you haven’t-” he cut himself off with an awkward cough.

King Roman looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I’m not… particularly interested in those activities. I apologize if I’ve disappointed you.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I mean, I’m kinda relieved, not that you’re not hot! But I’d rather not break my two rules.”

Roman preened at the compliment. “What are your two rules?”

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.”

“Ah.”

“Look, there might be enough time to get someone else up to speed before the trade meetings. But you’ll have to choose someone quickly.”

Roman sat down in his throne and looked skyward in thought. “Are you familiar with Patton Hart? He’s already organized the internal farmers into their current union. What of him?”

Virgil remembered running into him right after a difficult mission and somehow ending up with a bag of tomatoes, a bag of bell peppers, and strict instructions to bathe and sleep. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

“How do you think he’d do as an advisor?”

Virgil didn’t have to think for long. “I think he’d be awesome. Want me to talk to him?”

“If you’d be so kind. And please assure him that his role would be strictly as an advisor.”

Virgil smirked. “You mean a shirtless advisor.”

Roman turned beet red, and Virgil cackled.

/////

Before Virgil knew it, the harem quarters weren’t so lonely. Patton had agreed to join, very happy with the wardrobe and quickly making a name for himself. Patton had, in turn, recommended Logan Logos to replace the other creepy advisor. Logan had run a very successful pre-K Montessori program before joining the palace harem, and he fit in with the rest of the advising circle well, already creating reforms to account for diverse learning styles. In fact, Virgil had noticed that the advisors who weren’t part of the harem started taking him and Patton more seriously once the proper and strong Logan had joined them.

The day of the inter-kingdom trade meeting had come, and Logan and Virgil would both be attending along with Patton. Everyone was nervous about how the sweet and gentle Patton would do at such a fierce and antagonist event.

Virgil’s shoulder was out of the cast and sling, although it was still tender. He clapped a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Go get ‘em,” he said, trying to be encouraging.

Patton flushed. “Thanks Vee.”

The meeting began, along with the customary hour-long political niceties, and finally it came time for the trade advisors to speak on their leaders’ behalf.

Virgil ground his teeth at the open snickering of Patton’s garb, and he could tell Logan and Roman were feeling the same way. Patton, however, seemed to be unaffected by it all. As expected, the Kingdom of Fiery Fields spoke first.

“King Roman, we propose a 5% increase of taxes for the crops we export to your kingdom, lest we cease all wheat exports to you.”

“You may call me Advisor Hart, and for what reason? We already pay you 12% more for your crops than other kingdoms.”

The platinum blonde man stared at Patton with haughty hazel eyes. “Because, Advisor Hart,” he sneered. “our crops are unmatched in quality!”

Patton nodded his head. “Fair point. I suppose you won’t mind a moratorium on all exports of our steel to your kingdom then?”

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room.

Platinum Blonde was outraged. “You wouldn’t!”

“Actually, we would. You are now meeting with the new King’s new advisory circle, and we won’t stand for pointless tax increases that a review of the books show only go to pay the noblewomen you’re cheating on your wife with,” Patton stated, smiling sweetly the entire time.

Half of the trade advisors around the table laughed, while the other half gawked. Platinum Blonde backed down, and the trade meeting lasted for only 2 days instead of the typical 3 since Patton effectively shut down any ego-based bullshitting that occurred.

/////

Virgil and Patton were taking turns trying to toss grapes into each others’ mouths, laughing, while Logan pretended to be irritated by their antics. The doors opened suddenly to show Orange, in his eye-burning all-orange ensemble.

“Hiya!” Patton chirped, hiding his own discomfort. They were all intensely disliked by Orange, who seemed to blame them for Roman not being interested in sex or romance.

Orange sniffed. “Advisor Logos, the noble King would like to extend his congratulations on the tax reform that redirected many of the fees of our noblepeople to educational supplies.”

Logan nodded at him. “Thank you. I’m quite proud of that myself and am very glad it came to fruition. Was their anything else you required, Advisor Wrath?”

“What?!” Virgil and Patton shouted at the same time. They whipped their heads over to Orange.

“No. Good day.” With that, Orange - or rather, Advisor Wrath - left their room.

Virgil and Patton turned back to Logan, who was seemingly reading again.

“Dude what the fuck-”

“How the heck did you know?!”

Logan just raised an eyebrow while continuing to read. “I have a way of finding things out,” he said, looking up for a second to smirk at them before going back to his book.

Virgil and Patton decided to not test Logan’s abilities.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #aroace Roman Sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #Sanders sides fanfic #Sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #ts sides

18 notes · View notes

ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Love Yet Known Part 2

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Thanks for the love for the first part! Heres for you, @97freaknik. Sorry the tagging system isn’t working.

And thank you to my permanent tag who have yet to block me despite my spamming of works.

The drive to London was almost absolutely silent. Neither Alfie nor Eliza really knew what to say to one another. It was as if they were just acting out something for the sake of Tommy. Neither of them exactly knew how they’d ended up in such a predicament.

Alfie’s mind was racing, wondering how stupid he was to agree to something like marrying a Shelby. He thought about the ramifications, was there even a rabbi who would consider converting her and allowing them to marry? What sort of effect would this have on his life in the long run?

He glanced to his left where Eliza had been sitting quietly since they’d left Warwickshire. Her eyes were locked on the window, never turning her head. He wondered if she was wishing she was on the outside, not in the car with him. Maybe she figured if she didn’t look at him, she wouldn’t have to think of the arrangement.

Alfie cleared his throat, the silence too uncomfortable for his liking. “Erm, you like dogs?” He asked.

She looked away from the window to show she had heard him. “Pardon?”

“Dogs? Do you like dogs? I have a dog.” He clarified. “He ain’t mean or anything. I bought him to be a guard dog but he had other plans. Too nice for his own good.”

A hint of a smile formed on her lips. The sense of humor didn’t exactly fit his image. But it did help her relax a little. “Yes, I like dogs.”

“Good. That’s good. I sorta have a nasty habit of picking up strays.” He admitted. “I don’t keep all of ‘em. There’s a charity that a dear friend of mine runs. They train dogs to help blind people. So, they take in most of the strays.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was strange. It was almost as if he was trying to list off his good traits so Eliza wouldn’t look at him like he was a monster. Maybe he could put her mind at ease. “But, Cyril I kept. Cyril’s me dog. I kept him, couldn’t give him away.” The silence on Eliza’s end was killing him. He wanted her to say exactly what she thought about him. Most people who worked for him kept their opinions to themselves. Most of his business partners/enemies were vocal about what they thought. But neither of those opinions mattered. Because none of those people were intending to marry him. If they were to marry, Alfie wanted to know Eliza’s opinion of him. Even if she said she hated him and wished him dead, at least he would know.

“He sounds lovely.” She said politely.

“Yeah…he is.” Alfie fiddled with one of his rings. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make this work. It gave him a headache thinking about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to Alfie’s relief, Eliza took immediately to Cyril. The bullmastiff seemed to enjoy a female presence in the flat. At least she didn’t feel completely alone in Camden Town. Alfie just felt a little guilty that her only companion was a slobbery, goofy dog.

Still, he capitalized on her affection for the mutt. He allowed her to take Cyril out for walks whenever she pleased and didn’t say anything when Cyril started to sleep in her bedroom.

Meanwhile, Alfie was trying to figure out the complicated matters of converting Eliza so they could get married. Tommy continued to call to push the matter. It was clear over the phone that he was desperate to make the union complete. The Italians would be closing in at any time and Tommy didn’t need another threat from Camden Town to weigh on him.

“Y’know, I know you’re godless, Tommy. I understand that, but us godly men have rules and those rules simply cannot be tampered with. Centuries of laws, mate, can’t be overturned ‘cause you find it inconvenient.” Alfie said over the phone.

“I gave you money to ensure it.”

“Right, well some rabbis take bribes as an insult, mate.”

“Alfie, if you’re holding out on me…” Tommy warned.

“She’s been living with me for nearly a month, Thomas, if I really wanted to back out, I would’ve sent her home to you.” He cut the man off.

Tommy muttered something over the line but Alfie couldn’t hear what it was.

“There’s a rabbi that Ollie found that might go through with the conversion and marriage,” Alfie said. “When I hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

The Blinder seemed to have his worries put to rest at least for the time being. “And how is she doing there?”

“Well, her best friend is me dog,” Alfie replied honestly. “She hardly speaks to me, not that I blame her much.”

“She’s always been quiet,” Tommy assured him.

“Well, circumstances ‘n such.” Alfie sighed and cracked his knuckles. “Anyways, I’ll let you know, Tom. I’ll let you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

One night a couple of days later, Alfie and Eliza were sat down together for dinner. “I just wanted you to know that I’ve found rabbis who are willing to convert you.” He brought up the topic.

“Oh. Okay.” She nodded.

Alfie had learned over the few weeks together that she was a difficult person to read. She was a lot like Tommy, and less like her other brothers who were prone to showing their emotions on the outside. She always spoke to him in a calm, steady, and polite manner. Almost as if she were afraid of setting him off, or it was simply just her demeanor. Alfie would’ve preferred if she were a bit more like Arthur, as terrible as that would be. At least he would know what she was thinking instead of having to guess.

“Didya…well…have ya put any thought into it? I mean, ain’t a small decision.”

Eliza shrugged as she pushed her food around the plate with her fork. “I haven’t put much thought into religion.” She admitted. “Polly was the only one who took Christianity seriously in our family.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Still, being Jewish is more a way of life, innit?”

“That’s what I’ve been told.” Alfie had arranged for Ollie’s wife to give some insight to Eliza into what it meant to be a Jewish wife. He assumed they’d bonded, but Eliza didn’t say much about it. Though, she did frequently visit Ruth and her and Ollie’s pack of kids. She never said what they spoke about.

“Right. Well, just wanted to know what your thoughts about it were.” He posed the question again, hoping to get a little further into her mindset.

“Ruth said if we were going to have children, they needed to be brought up fully Jewish. Or at least, that’s what she thought your intentions were.”

Alfie cleared his throat. How could they discuss children? Of course, it was a factor but a child wouldn’t just magically appear once they were married. And they hadn’t even touched each other aside from the mistaken brush of an arm. “Well, right.” He tilted his head to the side, hoping suddenly for an interruption so he could leave the conversation.

“Alfie?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was the first time she had addressed him by name. The way she spoke his name was so soft. Like nothing, he’d heard before. “Hm?” He couldn’t exactly speak properly.

“Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Afraid? Well, I’d hope not. I told your brothers that I ain’t here to hurt you.”

“Then why do you walk on eggshells around me?”

Alfie opened his mouth but only let out a small, confused grumble. It must’ve been that Shelby wit that had gotten them there. She was so good at concealing her feelings that Alfie looked like a fool. Dancing around the topic, trying to please her, giving her everything she wanted. God, he must’ve looked like a sap.

She smiled slightly. “I didn’t expect you to try to impress me so much. The way my brothers spoke of you, I was expecting something else entirely.”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s a difference, yeah, ‘tween business and me personal life. What your brothers see ain’t what you’ll see.” He tried to explain.

It was different from her family’s mentality, or Tommy’s to be more specific. In the Shelby family, everyone dealt with family business. There were no exceptions unless you absconded. Even then, it was tricky to escape business. But it appeared Alfie was keener to keep his two lives separate. Eliza considered how this difference might benefit her.

“All the day’s shit, yeah, it gets left at the fucking door.” He pointed down the hall toward the front door. “This is sorta a sanctuary, innit?”

Eliza nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“Nice, yeah it is nice.” He agreed.

They were quiet for a moment, neither of them really wanted to return to the conversation topic of children. It seemed too fresh.

“Ruth is trying to teach me how to cook kosher.” She spoke up after a bit. It was the first time she offered any information without Alfie prompting her. Maybe because now she felt the flat was a safe place for her. “Just, I dunno if you were wondering why I’m there for so long.”

Alfie shrugged. “I’m glad you two have gotten along. Didn’t want you to feel lonely here.” He admitted and went back to eating before his dinner went cold.

Eliza watched him for a split second. So, he cared about how she felt? Imagine that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took quite a bit of convincing to get the rabbis to convert Eliza. Wrestling with tradition, Alfie knew he was asking for a lot. But the conversion went through and under Jewish law, he was allowed to marry her. Not that he was looking for some massive wedding. It would be best to call the least amount of attention to himself as possible. The Camden community might not take kindly to his bride-to-be if they found out she was a convert. And if they found out she was a Shelby? Well, granted, Alfie was scary enough to thwart off criticism. But he didn’t want the rumors to get around to Eliza. He didn’t want her to feel unwelcome.

In reality, Alfie felt as though he was going mad. Since when had he given two shits about someone’s comfort? His job was basically to make people feel uncomfortable so they’d be more willing to listen. But apparently, Eliza had made quite an impact on him.

She fit in very nicely in his flat. Never made a fuss or anything. That wasn’t to say she was like a little dormouse. She wasn’t very tidy. Alfie chalked this up to her growing up with five siblings. He didn’t particularly mind, though. It was nice to see the flat actually lived in. For so long it had been just a place to sleep. But Alfie realized he had grown fond of coming home late from work and finding traces of Eliza throughout the house.

A dirty pan in the sink, her book on the sofa, a couple of hairpins on the coffee table, and the stray teacup with cold tea that had been forgotten about.

For a brief moment, as he cleaned up, he wondered if their children would be just as messy. Alfie could imagine coming home to the floor littered with toys. It brought a smile to his face.

Of course, children was still a conversation they had to have. Alfie loathed the fact that they had to get over that little mountain of a decision. He wouldn’t dare force anything onto her. Purely by his own standards and morals. Plus, the added benefit of getting a bullet in his head courtesy of the Shelby boys.

So, he waited and hoped that was something they could get to. Because, despite their relationship still being merely two people who lived together, he did like her. More so, even.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding, although very traditional in the ritual sense, was very small. Only a few people very close to Alfie attended if only to witness the union. There wasn’t a reception or party to follow. No grand affair.

They simply walked out of the building as man and wife.

“Alfie, can I ask you something?”

“’Course.” It was a bit strange. Eliza was standing in the foyer as he went to go feed Cyril. Standing in her wedding dress, she looked a bit out of place.

“I know what is…expected of us tonight.” She wrung her hands together. “But I don’t think I’m quite ready. I’m sorry I just…”

Alfie felt oddly relieved. He was hoping she would say something, otherwise, he’d feel like a monster if she went through with consummating the marriage and she wasn’t ready. “No reason to apologize, love.” He walked back out of the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. “Ain’t any rush.”

“I appreciate that.” She said softly. “Thank you.”

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ve got to work early.”

“I’ll make breakfast.” She offered.

“Nah, that’s alright. You don’t need to get up so early.”

“I don’t mind…”

“S’alright, love.” He gave her a warm smile and held out an arm, allowing her to go upstairs first.

Eliza smiled back, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. She went upstairs, allowing Cyril to trot by her.

“I had a few things shipped in from Paris. Sorta wedding gift, if you will. I hope you don’t mind, I asked Ruth if she could help me.” Alfie said as he climbed the stairs behind her. “I left it on your bed.”

“Oh, Alfie, you didn’t need to-”

“S’alright.” He assured her, meeting her at the top of the stairs. “You Shelbys like nice things, aye?”

She shrugged. “I’m a Solomons now.” She pointed out.

He let out a brief chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true. F’ya want, we can get a nice box for your dress. Maybe to store it? I dunno, me mum did the same thing. I still have her dress, fuck if I know what I’m gonna do with it. But she-well it were the only thing she brought from Russia.”

“I understand, it’s important to you.” Eliza agreed.

Alfie rubbed a hand over his beard. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Well, I won’t keep you up.”

“Goodnight, Alfie.” She smiled at him before going down the hall to her room. Like he said, there was a large box on her bed. After shutting the door, Eliza opened the top and found an array of beautiful pieces of clothing that must’ve cost a fortune. Beaded gowns, satin gloves, a fur-lined coat, and much more. Eliza carefully unpacked everything, folding the items or hanging them up in the closet. Then she landed on a pair of silk pajamas that looked like what picture stars wore. A gorgeous burgundy color with embroidered designs on the cuffs of the shirt and pants.

She smiled and felt her heart skip a beat. It had been a little unnerving knowing that she would become a Jewish wife. There were a lot of changes she had to make, moving to Camden, marrying Alfie, and trying to keep her end of the bargain by converting. But in the end, she was still married to a gangster. One who, although he looked simply, did like luxury items. And maybe it was how he was trying to show his affection for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Married life wasn’t all that different for Alfie. He continued to work the same tireless hours and continued to keep up his agenda of legal and illegal operations. Mostly illegal.

What changed was coming home to a gentle person who had a good skill of keeping the flat calm. Alfie assumed that like the other Shelbys, Eliza would manage to only raise his blood pressure. But she had the opposite effect.

She had become more of an open book with him, which led Alfie to believe they were moving in the right direction. She told him more about what she did during the day. Mainly, she spent her time with Ruth and some of the other women in the neighborhood.

It was nice to hear things that weren’t related to business. Alfie’s entire life was business. Now he had someone else to occupy his thoughts.

As the weeks wore on, both Eliza and Alfie began talking on a more intimate level. Soon she found she was telling him things not even her siblings knew. Things that were very personal to her.

She also began to notice Alfie stealing a few looks her way. Meanwhile, she found herself looking forward to seeing him every day and often was disappointed if he worked late and she fell asleep before he came home. Her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her or called her pet names. She figured it was just instinct, something he did to everyone. But it felt special to her.

Eliza realized, when winter came, that there was no reason for her sheepishness. They were married, after all. If she wanted to further their relationship, all she had to do was ask.

So, she did. One night, Alfie came home late from work. He picked at some leftovers waiting for him, before heading upstairs. His hip was bothering him as the days got colder, so he wasn’t in a grand mood. When he reached the second floor, the door to Eliza’s room opened.

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, I was waiting for you to get home.” She lingered in the doorway for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, I would’ve kept you company while you ate.”

“S’alright, didn’t eat much.” He shrugged. “There something you needed?”

“Well, yes.” She walked into the hallway. It felt a little silly asking her husband what she was going to ask. So, Eliza gained some of that Shelby confidence and looked him in the eye. “Will you kiss me?”

It certainly wasn’t what Alfie expected. He thought maybe she wanted to use the car or needed some spending cash. So, he felt a little bad that he was silent for so long, but he didn’t know what to say. “Erm, I didn’t-well-”

Eliza began to clam up, fearing she had overstepped a line. Maybe it was all in her head and Alfie didn’t really like her all that much. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve asked…”

Alfie caught her hand before she could scurry back to her room. He drew her closer and his other hand cupped her cheek. His eyes searched her face before he kissed her, trying to get a mental image of her locked in his head. The tiny bit of freckles on her face, the wintery blue eyes looking up, yearning, and the way her lips parted slightly. He would catalog the little bits of information away because he couldn’t imagine how this would last long. Nothing good in life ever lasted long and Eliza was one of the best damn things that ever happened to him.

That night, Eliza slept in Alfie’s room for the first time. It was how she came to the realization that her husband was just a big bear. Grumpy, stubborn, yet he cared for his own. Eliza liked that. She had grown up around bristly love. Polly marched them to mass every Sunday no matter how much they complained because she wanted to ‘save their souls’. Arthur would gladly murder any boy who gave her even the slightest of looks. Tommy was stern but she found out later it was because they had no father figure so he had to take on the role. And John? Well, John pretended to hate his twin sister. He wanted to appear tough in front of his friends and teased her at school. But every night, when there was no available light to read, he conjured up a story for her.

Other people may not have understood, but Eliza knew that real relationships couldn’t be found in the pages of her books. She liked Alfie because he was real. The most real thing she’d ever known.

After that night, their relationship bloomed much faster. They found married life soothing when others found it stressful. They enjoyed each other’s company so much that Alfie started to cut back on late nights at the bakery. It meant more to Eliza than he might have realized.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the situation with the Italians got more intense, Alfie started to realize how much their relationship had grown. He found himself contacting Tommy more often, demanding information about what Luca Changretta was doing. He wanted to ensure there would be no threat to his London empire and there would be no threat to his wife.

His anxiety about everything reached a boiling point when Eliza disappeared one morning. Had he looked in his study, he would’ve seen the note she left for him saying that she was taking the car to visit her family in Small Heath.

But he didn’t. So, he naturally assumed something bad happened and rallied a search team. He was at his wit's end, practically tearing his hair out.

When Eliza arrived home, unharmed and acting normally, he lost his cool.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He demanded when she walked through the door as if nothing had happened.

Eliza looked taken aback. He’d never taken such a harsh tone with her. “Pardon?”

“I’ve half me men out looking for you, you think it’s alright to just disappear like that?”

“Alfie, I left you a fucking note on your desk.” She snapped, not happy he was talking to her in such a way. He usually was very respectful.

He looked a bit hesitant, maybe he had neglected to see the note. But he was still too upset to admit he was in the wrong. “You could’ve told me, aye? Where were you?”

“What does it matter?” She asked defensively, trying to pass by him in the hallway.

“Because there’s a man out there who wants to wipe out your entire family, Liz!” He snapped, standing in her way so she couldn’t shrug off his concern.

“You don’t think I know that?”

“You have no idea where he could be or what he could’ve done to you!”

“I was in Small Heath, I was perfectly okay.” She retorted. “I have the right to go where I please.”

“Small Heath?” Alfie looked at her in disbelief. To think she could go that far and think she would be fine on her own. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Do not take that tone with me!” She held strong against him. “If I want to see my family, I can. You can’t keep me locked up in Camden.”

“That ain’t…” He let out a frustrated noise. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel trapped. “I don’t understand why you just up and left. What did you need to do there?”

“That’s my business.”

“Liz-”

“You don’t control me, Alfie.”

“I know!” He shouted. “You don’t think I know that? But I care too much about you to let you be killed because of what your fucking brother has gotten your family into!”

Eliza’s lower lip wobbled and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I went because I was late. My aunt confirmed it, I’m pregnant.”

Alfie was knocked right in the gut by the news. What he thought would never happen was now a reality. “Liz…”

“Just fuck off.” She spat and turned to head upstairs. But she paused halfway. “I was so excited to tell you and this is how I’m treated? You can sleep on the couch.” She stomped upstairs and slammed the door shut before locking it.

Alfie felt like an absolute imbecile. He was notorious for letting his temper get the better of him. But he was proud of himself for never letting Eliza see that side of him. Now he had mucked up what they’d been building for months.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eliza didn’t come down for dinner or breakfast the next day. Alfie decided to try and speak with her before he went to the bakery for the day.

His first knock was met with silence.

“Eliza, please, just let me apologize.” He said as he knocked again.

“Go to hell, Alfie.” She finally replied.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Love, I’m tryna apologize, here!” He exclaimed. “What else do you want me to do?”

There was another bout of silence before the door swung open. “You think an apology is some grandiose gesture?” She demanded. “Alfie, I’ve walked across hot coals for you and you don’t even realize.”

“M’tryna…I don’t know what you want me to say.” He grimaced, realizing how shit he was at relationships sometimes.

“I went to Small Heath and you know what Ada said to me? She asked me about my headscarf. She said it was oppressive and I never should’ve converted for you. She said you would never be able to do anything that comes close to what I’ve done for you. Do you want to know what I said?”

Alfie nodded.

“I said she was wrong. I told her that you treated me right. You respected me. You were there for me and appreciated the person I was. I converted for you, I married you, and now I’m going to give you a child. So, don’t act like you have this authority over me when I’ve done so much for you.”

He sighed. “You’re right, love. It were wrong for me to treat you like that.” He acknowledged in a rare event of humility. “But me worst fear is losing you. ‘Cause you’re the only thing on this Earth that means a damn to me. If I lost you if that fucker killed you? I’d never forgive myself. I would spend the rest of me days mourning.”

Eliza’s tense stance relaxed a bit when she heard the genuine concern in his voice. His anger was out of fear. She knew men like Alfie had a hard time addressing their fears because they weren’t meant to be scared of anything. Her voice softened. “I’m not going anywhere.” She promised. “You have me until the end of time.”

“And you have me.”

She smiled and stepped into his arms so he could hold her close. “That’s good to know.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

@fuseburner

PB Masterlist

336 notes · View notes

jaehyun-eclipsed · 4 years

Text

Before I Met You | Eighteen

Updates: Sundays TBD

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Author’s Note: So we’re starting off part 4 today! I wanted to let you know that I am going to be a bit busy (school is starting for me, etc.) so unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with my weekly update. I might try biweekly updates, but I’m not quite sure what my schedule will look like yet. I might consider shorter updates, but that may disrupt the flow I want. Either way, rest assured, I have full intentions of continuing this story... albeit, a bit slower.

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

“I remember you telling me you had asked out one other guy before me,” Jaehyun says. “But I didn’t realize it was like that.”

I hug the throw pillow to my chest tighter and an embarrassed smile makes its way onto my features. “Mm, technically, I didn’t ask him. It was more like… well, I confronted him,” I admit.

His eyes widen like everything has come full circle. “This makes so much more sense now.”

“What?”

“When you asked me… that was like nothing in comparison.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“– and I didn’t even give you – God, I’m such a wimp,” he laments, covering his face with both of his hands in humiliation.

I shrug and rest my hand on his knee, gently rubbing circles over the denim of his pants. “Hey, we’re here now, aren’t we? Besides, we had more… legitimate problems. You had basically just started your job.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He continues nodding to himself, mostly in agreement, though a nervous laugh quickly follows a loud huff. “But I’m still such a wimp! I couldn’t even call you!”

“Well,” I begin, “you did call me. Though, I guess you could have at least left a message.” My eyes soften as I lift my hand to caress his face. “I don’t blame you though. I’m not worth your job, Jaehyun… and especially not when you’re just starting out.”

A small smile forms on his lips as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his lap and gently encouraging my head to rest against his chest. He presses a soft kiss into my hair.

“Thank you for caring, but I think you’re worth it.”

Jaehyun and I have been together for over two years. I suppose since we’ve made it this far, there’s no doubt he’d say that. He’s happy, I’m happy, things are good. We were lucky that it worked out for us. And while I wouldn’t have it any other way, I’m not entirely sure I really do think I’m worth it.

“How did you feel after that?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “Like, just about the whole situation. You didn’t seem heartbroken over it, but you must’ve been upset.”

“No, I wasn’t heartbroken,” I concur. “But I was incredibly confused. And I hate being confused. When something doesn’t fit the logical mold, I don’t know how to function. It’s like my synapses misfire and I start coming up with all of these hypotheses – it’s a very desperate attempt because I start spit balling things that I know don’t add up and so I’m always left back where I started… confused and unable to piece together anything into a coherent story.”

Jaehyun tightens his hold on me and remains quiet for a moment.

“Did I make sense to you?”

“In the beginning, no.” I crack into a wide grin and look up at him. “You didn’t give me an answer and then the next time I stepped into the office, you kept trying to talk to me and started asking me all of these questions like nothing had happened. And it was so funny because we both knew there was this huge elephant in the room!”

“I couldn’t call you from my phone! Siwon told me not to! So I figured that if I show you some interest, then you wouldn’t completely hate me,” he responds. “And maybe you’d get the hint.”

“You could’ve written me a note!”

“I –” he begins quickly, an attempt to defend himself, though, he ultimately concedes. “Yeah, you’re right. I was scared!”

“You had right to be.”

“I still can’t believe you did that to that guy in college. He must’ve been terrified.”

“Yeah, probably.

“Did you ever see him around again?”

“Yeah, it was a little weird. Trying to force yourself to say ‘hi, how are you?’ to someone after that is kinda awkward.” I bite my lip as another memory resurfaces. “Honestly, the most frustrating part was when my mom called after she heard what I had done.”

“Oh no,” he remarks, his tone exhibiting full understanding of the situation.

“Yeah, she called and asked why I did that, how it wasn’t okay – she was switching back and forth between reprimanding me and asking if I was okay.”

“Why didn’t she think it was okay?”

“I think she thinks it’s not ‘lady-like.’ I’m not supposed to be so… assertive.”

“You’ve always been confident,” Jaehyun replies with a chuckle. “It’s something I’ve always admired about you. Ever since I met you.”

Junior year of college was starting out rather monotonous. Jia and I had moved back into the same house, choosing to remain roommates in the same room. We were pleasantly greeted by many new faces who seemed to be much more open to socializing with each other compared to the previous year’s tenants. I had been quick to learn that most of them knew each other from the dorms last year; they were already friends. Their openness even managed to coax the handful of residents that returned from last year into playing cards with them in the evenings.

I, on the other hand, had become much more reticent to join them. I had missed out on the first week’s socials, having to tend to family obligations immediately after finishing classes for the day. I’d watch them for a bit sometimes, heart heavy with a desire to belong and make more friends. I didn’t even know half of their names.

I spent most of my days on campus in class and then the library until dinner. When I went home for the day, I stayed in my room with Jia. Of course, she noticed my change in behavior from the previous year, but I couldn’t tell her the truth.

I couldn’t bring myself to spend my evenings downstairs anymore. It made me antsy. Last week, I happened to be in the dining room alone – a dangerous environment for my overly analytical brain. My eyes lingered over to the pool table and immediately, the events with Jaemin began playing right in front of me, incessantly on repeat. The laughter, the banter, and the seductive gazes were a sad reminder of how boys can really just suck sometimes. I missed what we had – which is so silly because it’s not like we really had anything. Longing, frustration, and confusion all hit me within a matter of seconds. I suppose it’s understandable. I didn’t really get closure with Jaemin. He just made me more confused than I already was.

Why? How?

I didn’t understand.

And naively, I only thought my residual feelings were as bad as it would get.

Yesterday, Suji and I happened to be walking through the student union after lunch. Being the third week of the semester, the student union had already resumed its normal busyness. We were searching for open seats to do some homework before needing to attend class, but were finding the effort to be useless. As we made our way towards the exit, I had the sudden feeling that someone was watching me. I frowned and when I turned my head, I immediately made eye contact with a familiar brown haired boy sitting at a table with his laptop.

Jaemin.

Be nice.

His expression was blank as he looked back at me. Desiring to be civil, I smiled warmly and waved to him, watching him return the gestures before looking away.

That was the first time I saw him this semester.

And while I didn’t think I would never see him, I certainly didn’t expect to run into him every day after that. It was always in different places around campus between classes. For such a large campus, I’m surprised we had that much overlap in class locations.

“Hey!”

“Hm?” My eyes widen and I quickly look up at Jia who has a slightly perplexed expression.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh um, I was thinking about my schedule for tomorrow,” I lie.

“Oh really?” she asks. “You looked like you were concentrating very hard.”

I shrug and shake my head slowly. “Long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Have you seen the boys around here?”

“I’m never here so I haven’t really seen anyone except for… I think his name is Hendery? He’s cute.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw him. Have you seen Johnny? I think he’s really attractive. More attractive than Hendery.”

“Uh, no. Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah! I talked to him one time! He’s really nice. And really tall too.”

“Oh.” I reach over to the other side of my bed and grab my phone. “Do you know his last name?”

“Suh.”

Jia climbs up onto my bed to sit next to me while I type the name into the Instagram search bar.

“That’s him,” she says, pointing to the first result.

Johnny is quite handsome. Midnight black hair, defined jawline, and a very friendly smile.

“Oh, he is cute,” I say. “But what’s this?”

I tap on the second most recent selfie of Johnny and a girl sitting at table with two cups of boba. The caption reads, “Happy Birthday to this one 😘💕”

“Damn, it looks like he has a girlfriend,” I say with a sigh. “Oh well!”

If I were being completely truthful, another reason I wasn’t interested in spending time downstairs was because part of me didn’t actually want to make friends with anyone at the house. Jaemin was still a sore spot and all because of him, I had decided that finding a potential love interest amongst your housemates was a bad idea. Perhaps that was a bit narrow minded because it’s not like I had to befriend any of them with that intention. I never had that intention with Jaemin to begin with.

But maybe that’s what I was afraid of. I never meant to fall for Jaemin – it just happened.

There’s obviously no guarantee that it would happen in the same way again, but in thinking about Lucas and Jaemin, I felt that the chance was more than miniscule. And that risk was enough for me to decide against it.

Okay, do not go into the student union right now because Jaemin will probably be there since you saw him there at this time last week.

Library it is.

I grab my backpack and throw it over my shoulder as class ends, quickly leaving the room and finding myself thrown into a crowded hall of students trying to exit the building. Walking past several students sitting on the floor outside of my classroom, I turn the corner and immediately deadpan.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Jaemin and I instantly lock eyes as he walks from the opposite direction. He looks at me for a moment before turning away and continuing to chat with the girl next to him. I squint in confusion, chastising whatever supernatural forces could have caused this chance encounter.

Since when does he have class at this time?! And in this building?! I’ve never seen him here in all the time I’ve had class this semester!

I try to remain expressionless as I mentally prepare myself to walk by him. He’s acting as if he’s completely invested in his conversation, turned completely inward towards the girl and ignoring any oncoming people that may pass by.

Okay, so you’re just going to act like I’m not here, got it. I guess I won’t say hi.

I keep my head down as he comes within earshot, keeping an eye on him from my periphery.

“I’ll see you later,” he says to the girl before abruptly turning around and trailing behind me.

Oh?

“Hey.”

Unfortunately, my mouth works faster than my brain in this instant and my bitterness quickly reveals itself.

“Endless running into you, huh?”

That didn’t come out right.

“Yeah…” he slowly responds.

Yeah, that definitely didn’t come out right.

He maneuvers to my right side to walk directly next to me. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Life sciences building,” I say, keeping my gaze forward.

We walk several more steps towards the entrance, slowly making our way upstream of all of the students pouring into the building.

“You?” I ask.

“Uh, Wheeler, which is that way,” he says, pointing in the opposite direction. “Ah, I always forget my orientation.”

It seems like you’re always doing that when you’re with me.

A few silent moments pass between us as I’m at a loss of what to say. I obviously didn’t start out with a very friendly demeanor, which I’m guessing he probably didn’t expect given my smile and wave last week.

What the fuck am I supposed to say? Pretty sure you didn’t come up to me to have a “let’s be friends!” chat.

“So how’s everything going?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to see him a couple steps behind me.

“Uh… good,” Jaemin says. “Busy junior year. How about you?”

“Uh, same. Yeah…”

There’s a hell of a lot of other things going on, but I don’t know how much I should or want to elaborate. One of those things is you, but we won’t go into that.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

Um, I just told you.

I open my mouth to repeat what I told him thirty seconds earlier, but am cut off by his quick memory.

“Oh, life science building, right, which is that way,” he says, pointing in the proper direction.

Yep… that way. Why does it seem like you’re so nervous?

“Did you just have a class in here?” I ask.

“Yeah, had class in here and now I’m going to Wheeler,” he repeats.

Yeah, I know. You just said that.

“So you’re going that way?” he asks again, pointing straight ahead as soon as we make it outside the building.

“Yep…”

“Okay, I’m going this way. See you later.”

“See ya.”

Well, I guess the ice has been broken.

I just didn’t really get it. I thought that after the whole falling out between us, I was never going to see him again. Jaemin was my adventure for sophomore year. Done, chapter finished. That’s basically what it was with everyone else. I’ve never run into Lucas when I return home during breaks. I rarely see my floormates from freshman year – maybe a couple of them once while walking between classes and then never again. Obviously because Jaemin and I go to the same school, there’s always a chance that we will see each other.

But every single day for a week?! That’s gotta be some kind of record.

There’s what – 36,000 people here? So the chance of seeing any one person is about 1/36,000; even less because each person can only be in one place at any given time. So seeing Jaemin once on a fluke wouldn’t be unusual and would probably be kind of nice just to smile and wave, “Hi, I know you exist and you suck, nice to briefly see you.”

There’s too much of a coincidence for this to mean nothing. But I don’t know what that is because there’s likely no chance of us actually dating and I’m pretty sure he isn’t trying to be casual friends with me.

The knife glides seamlessly as I guide it through the cantaloupe. Several drops of juice spill out onto the cutting board. As I begin slicing it into trapezoidal pieces, my eyes flicker back and forth between the fruit and the boy cooking at the stove.

I immediately recognize him to be Johnny. The pictures didn’t do him justice. He’s definitely better looking in person and much taller than I had initially expected. Sporting a casual black t-shirt and jeans, I take note of his broad shoulders and relatively muscular arms.

“Hey, is it okay if I open the door? I’m using a lot of pepper,” Johnny suddenly says to me.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

I shift my weight between each leg, trying to figure out something to say to break the ice. I’m aware that Johnny has a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least introduce myself. I don’t know anyone here anyway – with the exception of Jia and knowing the names of the few returning residents from last year. It just seems so much more intimidating to talk to a cute person because I don’t want him to think I’m hitting on him. Though, it’s kind of a bold assumption to make.

“What are you cooking?” I finally ask.

“Uh, salt and pepper chicken.”

“Oh. That sounds good!” I respond. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. My name is Y/N.”

“I’m Johnny.”

After proceeding through the normal “first time meeting fellow college student” questions, I learn that Johnny is a CS major who was originally born in Seoul, but moved to San Jose when he was only a few years old.

“I haven’t seen you around here too often,” Johnny says. “Do you just hang out in your room?”

“In the evenings, yeah. Otherwise I go to the library between classes and stay there until dinner.”

“Wow, I wish I studied like that. I study in my room, but I get distracted by my roommates a lot. Maybe I should go to the library too.”

I shrug. “I get more work done, but I almost don’t have friends,” I reply with a chuckle. “Just a couple that I go out to dinner with every once in a while.”

“You should hang out with us downstairs. My roommate Hendery is always looking for people to talk to. And Chaeyoung is really nice; she was my floormate last year. She always has snacks to share.”

I have an in! I can make more friends! And they seem nice! And they probably won’t flirt with me and tell me they were just being friendly!

God, I’m still so salty about that.

“Are you a part of any clubs?” he asks.

“No, I tried to join a dance club, but decided not to. I also did archery for a little bit, but I don’t go anymore.”

“Archery? We have archery here?”

“Yeah, it’s at the baseball field on the other side of campus though. I’d go, but we don’t have a bus that goes directly there.” “You don’t have anyone to go with?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He looks at the ground and purses his lips. “Well, if you ever wanna go back, I’ll go with you. I’d like to try!”

The cute guy wants to be friends with me! Yay!

“That would be fun! Yeah, I’d like to get back into it.”

“So I met Johnny downstairs,” I say, popping a piece of cantaloupe into my mouth.

“Ooh,” Jia coos. “What did you think?!”

“He’s cute and he’s really nice. He invited me to hang out with him and some of the other people that are downstairs all the time.”

Jia frowns, seemingly offended that she wasn’t offered an invitation. “He didn’t invite me!”

“We were talking about clubs and friends. Did you guys talk about that?”

“Oh.” She retracts her hurt expression, but only momentarily. “No, we just talked about the classes we’re taking. But you always get invited to things. Like I want to be asked to do a photoshoot.”

I’m rendered a bit speechless by her comment. Jia has never been this… blunt? I didn’t know that she noticed or even cared. Ten has asked me to be his model a handful of times to practice his photography skills, but that’s about it. I always thought Jia was more social than I was. She went on dinner outings and had friends over much more frequently than I did. Granted, when the amount of times I do those things is nearly zero (in reality, it’s probably a couple times a month), anything more than that would seem frequent to me.

“You know how my friends came over last week and you came in for a couple minutes to put something away, but then went out with Ten again?” she begins. “After you left, one of my friends said that she’s surprised I would get along with someone who looks like you.”

What the hell?

My eyebrows raise in astonishment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.”

I’m silent for a moment as I consider the situation. Jia looks like your typical studious international student. She wears oversized glasses, never wears makeup except for job interviews and special occasions, and generally wears plain jeans and simple long-sleeved shirts. Her system is based on efficiency.

I’ve always been sort of the opposite. Not to say that I’m not efficient, but I don’t mind sacrificing a little sleep to do my hair and makeup every morning. I’ve always held myself to a higher standard of presentation. And I guess it’s not unusual for me to hear comments about being attractive or looking like a sorority girl. Not sure the latter is said as a compliment, but I digress.

“She thinks I look like a partier, huh?”

“I think so.”

I purse my lips and nod my head slowly, a bit displeased about the superficial impression from a stranger. I am not a partier in the slightest.

“Anyway,” she begins, switching the subject again, “it’s too bad Johnny has a girlfriend, huh?”

I sigh, as my thoughts regarding our previous subject of discussion have not been settled. I can’t say I like being perceived that way. Is Jia… jealous? I’ve never made it a point to tell her what I’m doing, but she always asks every time I get ready to leave the room. Otherwise, I wouldn’t tell her.

“Yeah… too bad.”

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

#nct #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #lucas wong #na jaemin #mark lee #nct dream #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct jaemin #nct lucas #wong yukhei #nct mark #nct johnny #johnny suh #nct u #superm #before i met you

19 notes · View notes