#me: hm. cancer is a bit of a heavy subject. Do you know what would make that easier. Genocide

[unravelingwires]

Cancerates

When you eradicate cancer, you have to take out healthy cells too. Chemotherapy consists of murdering cells in your body, taking advantage of the fact that cancer cells are more vulnerable while not actually stopping normal cells from being vulnerable. If you think about it, even the actual cancer cells are a part of you. They are your cells mutated, not some invading outside force. Smoking, radiation, and air pollution can all encourage mutations, but it’s your DNA that ultimately poses the problem.

The swastika started out a Hindu symbol. It’s still exceptionally common in India, where it was used religiously for centuries before the Nazis took it. Between that and Indian political parties using the hammer and sickle, I have practice scrutinizing the background of family photos to make sure nothing questionable has slipped in.

I’m the kind of person who stopped using the okay symbol when it became an alt-right dog whistle; I’m not saying anyone has a right to reclaim the swastika. I just think a lot about the fact that it was ours, first.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (11)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 6,6K

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Masterlist

Notes: This chapter had been planned since I don’t know... Chap 2 or something LOL. I’m happy it finally came. I’m also happy to say that the next one will be hella suggestive. I hope you guys like it! I’m writing the chap 14 for now, so we’ve been kinda okay with the schedule. Let’s hope I don’t get blocked!

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner  @channiewoo  @bythesunnotbythemoon

                                                           ////

     You wiped all your things in your bag as soon as the bell rang, glancing at Hyunjin and Paris before getting up from your chair.

    “Are you coming with us, Hyunjin?” You asked mindlessly, checking if you had everything inside your bag and hoisting it over your shoulder as you concluded that everything was there. You looked at him, waiting for his answer, and watching as he placed his things inside his bag, taking out your book from there.

   “I won’t eat in the dining hall” He scrunched his nose, making you roll your eyes. Paris looked at you amused before looking at him and gasp, snapping her head back at you with a surprised look. You arched your brow, confused by her sudden behavior, and she darted her eyes back to him before settling them on you.

   “He was the friend you met on Wednesday?!” She asked excitedly, and you frowned. What the hell was she talking about? You looked at him confused, and he sent you a knowing look, a smirk plastered on his face.

   “Talking about me to your friends already, hm?” He teased, and you stared at him blankly before shaking your head slightly, rolling your eyes. Paris took the book in her hands, waving it for you to see it. You frowned, no clue about what she expected you to do.

   “You said you were going to meet your friend to give it to him!” She recalled, and you widened your eyes, remembering your lies. Great, now Paris would be fixed on the idea you were meeting Hyunjin behind her back “So… Are you guys friends now or something?” She grinned, and Hyunjin raised his brow at you, questioningly.

   “Yeah, yeah” You agreed, giving him a warning look that he took silently, keeping his mouth shut, “Something like that” You added, forcing a smile. Paris narrowed her eyes, suspicious, and you began to walk, so they would follow you and drop the subject.

   Paris clearly couldn’t be an actress, because she didn’t follow the script in your head.

   “Something, hm?” She teased, and you looked at Hyunjin for help. He shrugged, not knowing what to do since he didn’t even know what was going on, and you let your shoulders drop in defeat “Should I leave the love birds by themselves?” She grinned, and Hyunjin ─who clearly didn’t understand how to maintain a friendship with you─ grinned along.

   “Should she?” He asked playfully, looking directly at you. You pushed your tongue against your cheek, annoyed. Paris’s grin morphed into a full wide smile, eyes sparkling in excitement as she clasped her hands and looked at you. She was beaming. You could risk saying that you never saw her that happy in your whole life, almost relieved.

   That was how much she wanted you dating someone… Jesus.

   “Hyunjin, fuck off” You asked, voice drained and a pleading expression that made him chuckle. She giggled, happy with your not so gentle interaction, and you let out an exasperated sigh “We’re not dating, Paris” You pointed out, stressing your words. She hummed ─ clearly not buying them ─ and you let out a heavy sigh, wondering what have you done wrong in your life for your friend to believe in whatever she wanted, completely ignoring you.

    “Didn’t you mean fuck me?” Hyunjin goaded, smiling devilishly at you. Paris shot you a keyed up look, holding her breath as you walked, interested in your answer. You almost laughed at her eyes twinkling, like she was a child watching their favorite toy on display.

    “That’s exactly what I meant, thank you” You smiled obnoxiously, letting it hang in the air for a second too long, enough to confuse him “Fuck you” You added, grimacing, and he let out a wholeheartedly laugh, surprised by your retort. You chuckled, fighting back your smile as your eyes roamed around the quad as soon as you got to the stairs.

    “You almost tricked me” He confessed, humming in appreciation “You’re getting better at this”

    “Almost? You totally fell for it” You accused lightly, shooting him a funny look. Paris seemed pleased at your interaction, smiling at herself as she looked around the quad, mimicking your previous action. Unlike you, though, she let out a gasp. You raised your eyes to follow hers, spotting Han and his father walking side by side.

   “I thought Han would be lunching with us today” She mused, observing the other man walking along with them. They were walking fast, talking about something enthusiastically as Han nodded once in a while, a tight smile that conveyed his uncomfortableness from miles away. You frowned, concerned about him. Since Friday’s match, he had been feeling kinda down in general.

   Sometimes he seemed just alright as if he didn’t have anything to worry about.

   Sometimes he looked like he was drowning in regret.

   Just like now.

   The way his shoulders were dropped made it seem like he had to carry the weight of the entire world on them. The way his lips quirked down ─ almost imperceptibly but casting a shadow in the corner of his lips ─ made it seem like his whole face was taken by whatever dark thoughts wandered around his mind. The way his jaw clenched ─ stretching his neck just a little bit ─ made it seem like he had an invisible rope ready to strangle him. The way his eyebrows quivered almost imperceptibly made you realize how much he was trying to hide a clear ocean of emotions behind his worried eyes.

   You knew something was wrong and you couldn’t believe one lost match was the reason why he seemed so down lately.

   So what exactly was his problem?

   You pursed your lips, patting Paris’s shoulder before looking at Hyunjin, waving him goodbye before turning to her, forcing a small smile. You made your way to the dining hall, dismissing Paris’s idea of going their way to greet them but sending some looks over your shoulder. Maybe later you should try to figure it out.

   For now, though, it was lunchtime.

                                        //////

    Later arrived sooner than you expected.

    You bit your hot dog, crossing your legs as you fixed yourself on the stool and leaning against the stand as you watched the P.E building, waiting for Han to come out of his practice. You heard the coach wasn’t pleased about the results, and it seemed like he was taking out his frustrations on the team, tiring them out.

    You distracted yourself for a split of a second, admiring the dark sky that fell upon you. Although work in a library was fun to some extent, it was always strange to get in there with the sun burning your scalp and people wandering around, chatting up, to get out when everything was dark and quiet. The lights shooting from the roof made you trail their path, getting too invested in them to notice someone coming in your way.

   “Waiting for your boyfriend?” Minho’s voice sounded as soon as someone shadowed your view. You focused your gaze on him. Despite his usual teasing, it was clear he was drained, an unusual frown giving him away. You gestured to the stool beside you for him to sit, ignoring his teasing like you often did when you didn’t find it in you the urge to whine at him. He gestured to the employee, asking whatever he called the usual before he sat down.

   The silence was slightly awkward but neither of you tried to say anything at first. You glanced at him, munching your food as you pretended not to be interested in why he looked so edgy today. He tapped his fingers on the stand, eyes fixed on the building behind him; though he probably didn’t intend to show his anxiety, the subtle rocking his body made back and forth was enough for you to sigh in defeat, lowering your food.

   “What is it?” You decided to ask, taking him by surprise. He looked at you astonished; impressed you even noticed something was wrong with him, blinking a few times as he deadpanned. You rolled your eyes, shoulders dropping as you scoffed “Really? You look like shit, Minho! Also, you can’t stop bouncing your leg and drumming your fingers. I mean, either you’re anxious or you really want to be a drummer” He snorted, nodding in defeat.

   “It’s been tiring” He shrugged “Coach is mad at us for losing like that… I fucked everything up” He admitted “I couldn’t even think about missing a serve in a time like this… He’s been on my tail since then” He sighed, clearly overwhelmed “Also, I think Han isn’t feeling much better… “ He eyed you cautiously “Isn’t he distant lately?” You blinked, thinking deeply.

   Well, to tell the truth, he kinda was.

   “I think so? He has been acting weird… I don’t think it’s about the match though” You confessed, resting your hot dog on the stand before continuing “Sometimes it just seems like he’s lost inside his head, I don’t know how to explain” He nodded in agreement, looking at your food as if he craved for it, making you chuckle “You can have it, I’m okay” You pushed it his way, fighting back a chortle as he blushed, embarrassed.

    “No! Sorry! I’m just…” He closed his eyes when his stomach growled, and this time you couldn’t hold back your laughter, pushing your food closer to him “Sorry, I’m starving” He admitted, picking up your hot dog and humming as soon as he had a bite “The damn coach didn’t give us any time to fucking eat!” He muttered, mouth full of food, as he tried to cup it so he wouldn’t spat at you.

    “Han missed the practice? Where is he?” You asked out of nowhere, realizing that if the coach was on their tail, he should be with Minho right now. Minho gulped down his food, sighing.

    “He’s at the gym… He said he needed some alone time” He took another bite, cupping his mouth again “Said he wasn’t hungry… As if” He scoffed. You frowned, looking at the building once more, attention dragged back as Minho’s food was settled in front of him “Do you want some?” He offered, pointing to his brand new hot dog.

    “Actually… Can I have this? I’ll pay for yours” You reassured him, picking up your bag to search for your wallet “I’m going to push it down his throat” You grunted, putting the money right in front of Minho. He laughed, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively.

   “What a caring girlfriend” He teased, gesturing so he could order another one, pushing your money back to you before you gave him a neck-slap “I owe him one” He shrugged it off, and you wiped your money back into your bag, picking up the hot dog and quickly making your way to the gym, afraid he would just go home unexpectedly.

    You struggled a little bit to find it but as soon as you spotted Han laid down on the floor, arms crossed upon his eyes and fingers buried into his hair ─ the definition of defeat himself ─ you felt all your unsettledness dissolve into pure worry. You cleared your throat, and the sudden echo in the empty gym startled him. He shot his body up, sitting on the floor and moving his hands away so he could see who was sneaking there; shoulders dropping in relief when he spotted you.

   The next second, he tensed up, realizing it was you.

   “What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, way more stiffly than you were used to seeing him. You approached him, handing the hot dog without a word, and he arched his brow in wonder, looking at you as if you were crazy “What is it? You suddenly had the urge to come here with a hot dog?” He scoffed, and this time you rolled your eyes.

   “Just eat the damn thing” You pushed it in the air, and he took it gratefully “I heard you said you weren’t hungry… I immediately realized you needed a friend. I mean, did I ever see you satisfied in your life?” You joked, and he laughed at it for a few seconds before his laughter died slowly, giving way to an awkward silence.

   “I don’t think you did” He muttered under his breath, taking a bite. You gasped, taken aback by the sudden change in the mood. Han wasn’t the one to complain about his life. If you were being honest, you couldn’t recall a time he complained about anything for real ─ well, except for Hyunjin being in your life ─, so you took the hint to sit down next to him, placing your hand on his knee.

    “You know you can talk to me, right?” You offered unsure, eyeing him cautiously “I may not be able to help you but I can hear you out” You gave him a small smile which he returned, sighing right after. He took a bite of his food but didn’t seem to care about the taste, as he didn’t even hum like he used to do when he ate it.

   “I don’t know where to begin with” He stated, eyes unfocused but fixed somewhere over your shoulder “I mean… I don’t know… You know?” He trailed off, which wasn’t really helpful. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head.

  “Could you be more specific?” You asked amused, and he chuckled, gulping down his food.

   “I lost this game… And for what, Y/N? For what?” He sighed heavily “Dad brought a friend to meet me today… He said those things happen, said he knows I’m better than that…” You perked up at that, happy he would have another chance sooner than expected “He watched my other games and said I’m promising” He concluded with another sigh.

  Though his words were all good signs, he said them as if they were a death sentence.

  “I don’t follow you” You admitted, confused “Isn’t it a good thing? I mean… Did he give you a chance? Will you play on a team?” You added, and he looked at your eyes deeply demotivated.

  “I don’t deserve that spot” His tone was hurt, kinda breathy, and you were taken aback by how destroyed he looked. Has he ever been this tired? You couldn’t remember it “I wasn’t supposed to have that spot” He added, laughing humorlessly “What about my team? What about them, Y/N? They missed their chances because I’m a son of a bitch” His hands fisted his hair and he gazed at the floor, embarrassed to raise his eyes and look at you.

   “You deserve it, Han! I watched every game for the last two years… You were incredible in each one of them. One bad day can’t just erase all of your hard work” You took your hand from his knee to rest it on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly “They’ll get another chance! All of you made some mistakes throughout the game… A lost match isn’t the responsibility of a single player, Han. You’re a team”

   “I missed the ball” He blurted out, and you raised your brows surprised.

   “Yeah, I know but it doesn’t mean you’re the one to—“ He interrupted you, voice firm and guilty.

   “No, I missed the ball” He shut his eyes, and you frowned, confused.

   “Yes, I know… What I mean is –“ You tried again, and this time he interrupted you with a peal of incredulous laughter but not a hint of humor in it.

   “No! You don’t understand it!” He whined, voice faltering as if he was about to cry “I missed it, Y/N… I choose not to save it! I missed the damn ball!” He raised his voice, half-yelling on the silent gym; voice echoing over and over again, sinking in your brain slowly.

   “You did what?” You couldn’t believe it. Why would he do something like that? You stood there, staring at him blankly, blinking a few times as you tried to make sense of what he just said. He looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes, that it was impossible not to feel the regret engulfing him right now.

  “I let my team lose… I took away their chances because I’m an egoistic son of a bitch” His voice was thick, heavy even, and yet it broke into a million pieces. You felt your heart sink, not knowing what to say. He covered his eyes, bringing his knees next to his chest to rest his face there, grip tightening on his hair.

  “Why?” You asked slowly, at a loss of words. He raised his head just a little bit, enough for you to get a glimpse of his teary eyes and quivering chin.

  “I don’t want to be a player” He confessed bluntly.

   At first, you gasped, dumbfounded.

   Then everything made sense all at once.

   “You want to be a musician” You blurted out, breathlessly “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before… Han, why are you here? Why aren’t you going after your dreams?” You couldn’t understand him. He was so talented! He did so much in his projects with Paris… What was he afraid of? It didn’t make any sense.

   “It doesn’t matter what I want… What does matter is that I ruined what everyone else wanted” He sighed, cupping his cheek as he tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a face that had failure written all over it “And for what? Just to get into a team… It was useless” You frowned, starting to get upset at him.

  “Do you think you’re some kind of god or something?” You snarled, scoffing and looking away from him before returning your gaze “Were you alone in that damn court, Han? Were you playing all by yourself?” You ranted. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, surprised by your outburst.

  “No, but I could have –“ You sneered, nodding in discontent.

  “And so could them!” You shouted, and he pursed his lips, afraid of speaking up. You sighed, shoulders dropping “Look… The only thing you should be feeling guilty about is to be a dumbass” You snorted, and he seemed to relax a little bit “How can you think that your dream doesn’t matter, Han? It’s all that matters… It’s your life. You just have this one to live” You looked deep into his eyes, and he averted them, flustered.

   “Actually… If you believe in reincarnation and –“ You groaned, interrupting him.

   “Don’t try to change the subject!” You threatened him with your eyes but he seemed to find it amusing, letting out a chuckle “Why aren’t you pursuing your dreams? Why are you here if you could make yourself a hell out of a musician?” You asked curiously, and his amusement faded away.

   “You’re going to laugh at me…” He trailed off. You squeezed his shoulder once more, encouraging him to speak “Dad was a volleyball player” He began awkwardly, and you nodded reassuringly “He got injured real bad and had to retire… He got kinda depressed, you know? It was his dream. He loved to play. It happened when I was a kid… I decided to join my school team, so he could watch my matches and… Well, I wanted to make him feel happy” He shrugged.

   You sighed, knowing damn well how it would end.

   “When I won my first match he was so excited… It was the first time he laughed like that in a long time, so I just… Well, I wanted to allow him to live his dream through me” He sighed “And I loved to play, I really did. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being my dream and it started to be my burden, though” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, and you looked at him sympathetically.

   “So drop it” You advised, and he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

   “You don’t understand it! I don’t want to disappoint him… He did nothing but support me my whole life, Y/N… I’m his Champ” He sounded bitter, lips twisting down “How can I take it away from him? How can I carry the burden of letting him down?” He sighed, and you chuckled. He raised his eyes, confused, and your chuckled grew to a giggle until you couldn’t stop laughing. He looked offended, so you rushed to wave your hands eagerly.

   “I’m not laughing at you!” You assured, shaking your head in amusement “It’s just… Han, I don’t think you could ever let him down, really. The man just adores you! He’d accept you as you are, Han. Whoever you are. He loves you, and he does it from the bottom of his heart” You reassured him, pushing his shoulder lightly “He even approved of your imaginary relationship with Paris and Minho” You pointed out, laughing.

   “Don’t even remind me of this!” He cringed “It was embarrassing” He sighed, glancing over at you.

   “No, it wasn’t” You chuckled “I think it’s awesome you have someone who loves you so much… I can’t even imagine how it works” You smiled sadly, shrugging “I mean… I think he would have your back. He asked us to say to you that he was really proud of you, even if you lost it… He was concerned you’d be embarrassed to look at him after your match, that was why he just left earlier” He gasped, and you snorted “You should have known it but you got so drunk…”

   “Do you think he will take it well?” He asked unsurely, and you got up, extending your hand for him to help him out. He took it, standing right in front of you “I mean… Don’t you think it’d be better if I kept playing for him? I even have a team” You opened your arms for a hug, and he stood there staring at you.

    “Han, put it inside your head” You rolled your eyes “Your father loves you so much… Do you think his dream is to see you playing? His dream is to see you happy, Han. He’d be happy if you were happy. That’s all you need to do” You stepped closer to him, hugging him. He leaned his head against your shoulder, inhaling deeply “Just chase your dreams and he’ll support you with all his heart, okay? You’ll be a great musician and He’ll go to every one of your shows with Paris’s foam glove” You chuckled.

    You squeezed him, trying to convey some peace into him, feeling how he melted, hugging you back full of love. It was a warm hug and for a split of a second, you remembered Hyunjin saying Han liked you. You tried to pull away, haunted by the mere thought of taking him away from Paris but he held you tight.

   You inhaled sharply.

   “I never had someone to talk like this…” He muttered against your shoulder, and you hummed, patting his back “No one ever supported me like this… I’m…” He trailed off, and you got it as a hint to break away from him, smiling uncomfortably, rubbing your nape.

   “I mean, you have a lot of supporters! You have me and Par—“ Before you could complete your sentence, he interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders firmly and looking deep in your eyes.

   Oh boy.

   “I like you” He confessed, simply like this, and you shut your eyes tightly, exhaling slowly. You couldn’t get away from this “I have liked you for a while now… I always had a crush on you, and I thought I could just let it go but I can’t” He continued, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumbs. You opened your eyes again, looking at him like you were in pain “If you can just give me a chanc—“ You placed your finger upon his lips, sighing.

   “I can’t, Han… I’d do anything for you, I really like you but… Like a brother or something like this. I never thought about you as more than a friend” You admitted, pursing your lips as he gave you a hurt expression.

   “Maybe we can try to go on a date? Just to see if we may click! Perhaps you can come to like m—“ You sighed again, shaking your head slowly.

  “I really can’t… It wouldn’t be fair to you and it wouldn’t be fair to… Well, it’s just not fair” You shrugged, trying to keep Paris out of your speech. He pursed his lips, twisting them down and lowering his gaze, ashamed to look at you “Don’t be like this, we can still be friends and—“ This time was his time to interrupt you.

  “I can’t do it right now” He admitted “How can I look at you every day knowing you don’t like me back? Knowing you’re going to be my friend out of pity?” He looked deep in your eyes, and you could see how conflicted he was right now. The tears prickled in your eyes, and you could see how his eyes were glossy as well.

   “I don’t pity you… I really want to be your friend!” You assured him eagerly, voice faltering. He snorted, nodding in understanding.

   “But I don’t want to be friends with you… I want to be something more” He sighed, voice faltering as well. It was a vulnerable moment, and he took a deep breath before letting go of your shoulders “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with you anymore, okay? It’s just that I can’t do it right now… I need some time” He confessed, averting his eyes.

   “You promise you won’t bail on me?” You asked, holding your pinky out in the air, expecting him to lock his with yours.

  “Yeah, of course” He smiled weakly at you, locking your fingers together.

                                                                    ////

   It was needless to say you looked like shit as soon as you got home.

   The walk to the dorms was quiet and uncomfortable as Han made sure to drop you off, claiming that some rejection didn’t mean he couldn’t make sure you would get home safe. Although it was gentle and thoughtful, the silence sank in a way that made you cringe the whole way in the most awkward walk you ever had in your life.

  You opened the door and something about it ─maybe it was the popcorn smell, maybe it was the soft sound of unknown voices coming from the TV ─ made you realize that you were finally home. It hit you like a truck, and all the tiredness washed over you mercilessly. The weight of your busy day impregnated every fiber of your body, and suddenly you felt too worn out to say anything. You let out a heavy sigh, closing the door behind you before dropping your keys and bag to the counter, walking to the fridge to have some water.

      From morning to night, all your day was filled with worries.

      Paris raised her eyes from the TV ─ pausing whatever she was watching to look at you, which gave you a moment of comfortable silence that made you hum in approval─, studying you silently for a few seconds. She seemed to be puzzled by your nonchalantly self and somehow it pushed her to talk to you, even if it was pretty obvious you didn’t want to say anything right now.

   “You’re late” She stated, glancing over the clock before turning her gaze back at you “Were you with Hyunjin?” She smiled mischievously, tone knowing and teasing, and you looked at her far too done to play along “You look exhausted, the night must have been really nic—“ You shot her a look, deciding you weren’t up to this kind of bullshit right now.

  “I was with Han” You interrupted, and her face fell. She averted her eyes before biting her lip, turning her gaze back at you, unsure if she should say something. You kept looking at her, waiting for some kind of reaction but she was settled in look eager to know though too afraid to ask.

  As if it wasn’t enough, your head started to pound.

  “He confessed to me” You decided to come clean, studying her reaction. She raised her eyebrows slightly, not as surprised as you thought she would be. If you must describe it, she looked resigned, as if she knew it would happen all along. You frowned, narrowing your eyes to her “You knew?” You sounded accusatory, and she didn’t miss the tone.

   “I think you’re the only one who couldn’t see it” She admitted, “How did it go?” She couldn’t even look at your eyes, fixing her gaze on the floor. You took another gulp, roaming your eyes up and down at her. She fisted her hands, head dropped and body all stiff as if she was really afraid of your answer; her voice sounded weak enough for you to know she was fighting the urge to cry, and it made you sigh once more.

   “How could I do this to you?” You gave her a small smile, which she saw because her head snapped back at you, eyes widen as she took your smile in “You love him, don’t you?”

  “You knew?!” She was taken aback. It seemed like the mere thought of you knowing about her feelings didn’t even cross her head. She stood up from the couch, and for a moment you thought she would beam and hug you, maybe even thank you for letting him go. Not that you needed it. You widened your smile but she didn’t offer you one back.

   Paris looked offended.

   Not like her usual mock offended self, or her joking and kind self. She looked as if you just slapped her in her face. She was angry, to say the least, face red and brows furrowed, jaw clenched and you could see her swallowing dry. Her eyes held a storm inside them that you never saw before, and for a moment you wondered if you misunderstood her feelings.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” She spat, and you blinked twice, surprised, head tilting back slightly as if her words had impacted you like a punch “Did you… I can’t… What the fuck were you thinking?!” She yelled, stumbling over her words. You couldn’t understand her train of thoughts, so you just stood there speechless.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “Answer me!” She demanded, tears prickling her eyes “God… You’re… Why are you like this?! Why can’t you… Argh!” She groaned, fisting her hair and pulling it slightly, throwing her head back. She let go of her hair, shooting you a glare “Why?! Just tell me why!” She uttered, and you decided to rest your glass on the counter, confused.

  “I don’t follow you… Are you mad because I said no to him?” You asked just to be sure, and she laughed like a maniac. Out of nowhere. You glanced at your sides, startled, wondering if maybe it was all a joke and tons of cameras would take pictures of your flabbergasted self. She stopped laughing to clasp her hands, the sharp sound making you yelp.

  “How did you know I liked him?” She asked, trying to organize her questions, inhaling deeply so she could control herself.

  “You told me and Hyunjin when you got drunk at the party before our deadline” You answered simply, choosing to be the most straightforward as possible. She nodded, looking displeased with herself, scrunching her nose before turning her gaze back to you.

  “Why did you say no to him?” She asked, voice lower, and you scoffed amusedly.

  “What is it? Am I obliged to return his feelings now?” You chuckled but she didn’t seem to find it funny. She glared at you, and your laugh died inside your throat, making you gulp down. She approached you, getting right at the other side of the counter, looking dead serious to something as harmless as this.

   “He loves you!” She uttered, pissed off, and you clapped your hands, starting to get annoyed at her constant yelling. Your head throbbed and your thought flickered around the fact that you were too tired for it, too eager to go to your bed and lay down. Suddenly, all of your turbulent feelings seemed to find their way out of you, turning into anger and displeasure.

   “What do you want me to do?!” You fumed “I just fucking got out of your way! Why the hell you’re so fucking mad?!” You inquired, smacking the counter, startling her for a second. She recovered fast though, mimicking you the next second.

  “Out of my way?!” She grunted “Do you ever think about anyone at all?! How did you think I’d feel when you refused him out of pity?!” She raised her voice, looking at you full of disgust “So I should thank your holy ass because you got out of my way?” She laughed humorlessly “Maybe I didn’t want you to get out! Maybe I wanted you in!”

  What the fuck now?

  “Take your head out of your butt once in your life! How do you think I felt seeing him liking you all this time?! Hm?! Did you think it was fun to watch me liking him when he liked you?!” You watched as the first tear rolled down her face “Did you think I’d be glad because you’re pitying me?!” She spat, looking away, trying to hide her tears streaming down her face.

  It was enough for you to calm down a little bit.

  “I don’t pity you” You said softly, and she scoffed, shaking her head in contempt.

  “Yeah? But you should!” She said bitterly “Did you know I liked him for two years?! Did you know how much I wanted to confess to him?! Do you know why I didn’t?!” It was hard to understand what she was saying; her voice sounding thick as she tried to hold back her tears, choking and sobbing as she tried to yell at you, all at the same time.

  “Paris, calm down” You asked, concerned, and she groaned once more, pressing her palms against her eyes before punching the counter.

  “Calm down?! I stepped away because I love you, Y/N! Because I love him!” her face was twisted in pain and regret, and you wanted to reach out for her but you didn’t, afraid of her reaction “You’re my best friend! I’d do anything for you! Anything!” She cried, hiccupping as she tried to recompose herself “You know how much it took for me to let him go so you could be with him? You shouldn’t reject him because of me! I can’t have gone through all this for nothing!” She yelled, devasted.

  “Why would you do that, Paris?” You were so confused right now, so lost in everything she was saying… She laughed, choking on her saliva before continuing, and you pondered about giving her your glass of water but the thought of a pissed Paris having a glass to throw at you demotivated you immediately.

   “Because you’re lonely!” She howled, whimpering, and trying to recompose herself once more.

   The silence was deafening.  

  “I… You… What?” You floundered, and she shut her eyes, sighing.

  “Because you’re lonely, Y/N… Because I know you need love in your life… Because I know Han can make you happy…” She dragged each sentence out of her chest, in a serious tone, crying toning down a bit, sounding utterly worn out “If what I have to do to make sure you end up happy is to step away and give up on him… Then I’d do it gladly” She concluded, and suddenly you could relate to her pained expression, scoffing in disbelief before breaking into a fit of laughter.

   You were fully aware you sounded crazy as you cackled up, smacking the counter over and over again as if she had just told you a hilarious joke. The laughter didn’t last for long, though, dying into your throat as your smacking turned harder each time until you were punching the counter, tears pouring out of your eyes uncontrollably. You shut your eyes closed, keeping hitting it nonstop until the pain you felt in your hand could cloud any other thought.

   “You call this friendship?” You gestured between both of you, voice trembling and breaking “You said I don’t think about anyone but what about you, Paris?” You asked bitterly, and when she averted her eyes, rage engulfed you “What about you, Paris?!” You yelled, smacking the counter once again “So you’re saying you did it all for me?! Out of pity?! Because I need love?!” You laughed humorlessly, shooting your head back to breathe deeply “I need a therapist, Paris! That’s what I need”

   You picked up your bag, glaring at her.

   “And you know what?! That’s what you need too!” You dropped your bag again, fuming “Giving up on someone you love because you think I need it more than you?! Don’t blame me for being a coward!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes “Do you want to be canonized or something? Do you think it makes you more worthy of love than me?” She gasped, trying to shake her head to deny it but you snorted and raised your hand for her to stop “Are you so desperate you’d do anything to be worthy of love? Am I so unworthy that you thought nobody but he could love me?” Your voice calmed down, the anger left behind to give way to an unwavering cold tone.

   “No, Y/N, that’s not what I mea—“ You picked up your bag, walking to the door “Where are you going?” She asked worried, trying to get closer to you.

   “Did you think that I might not love him back? Do you think I’m so desperate for love that I wouldn’t even think about my feelings? That I’d accept anything? Did you really think about my feelings at all?” You sighed, opening the door, ignoring her question “I don’t love him, Paris… I’m sorry you had to hold back your feelings all this time. I’m sorry it was so hard on you. I’m sorry for not coming up to your expectations…”

   You looked at her, deep in her eyes, and both of you held your urge to cry, looking at each other as if only hurt could dwell in your soul right now. Neither of you said anything, holding each other’s stare for a while, taking in the entire situation.

   “But all that…?” You gestured at her, hand fumbling in the air “It’s all on you” You stated seriously “Don’t blame me for things you decided by yourself… I have enough of this with my father, thank you very much” You snickered “If you were really glad to give up on him, you wouldn’t beam thinking I had something with Hyunjin, would you?” She bit her lips, averting her eyes embarrassed “Maybe you should think about why you’re so riled up about this… I didn’t reject him because I pity you, Paris…”

   You held up your breath before exhaling heavily, positioning yourself to get out. You hesitated for a second on the doorframe, facing the hall, back turned at her before voicing your thoughts once more,“But if you really wanna know, I think now I do” And with this being said, you closed the door, making sure to not look behind.

[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 4)| The Boyz Imagine

Ep 4: In which Mae gets bad news and Kevin comes to the Rescue 

The Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main Characters: Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz.

Genre: fluff, slice of life, comedy, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10 | EP 11

----------

“She what?” 

Mae’s grip instinctively tightens onto her phone. Her heart starts hammering inside her chest without really meaning to, and suddenly the world’s noise falls away only for the words inside her phone to echo through her ear, right around her brain like a numb melody that takes her a bountiful of effort to break apart and comprehend. 

“Okay,” Mae tries her hardest not to let her emotions take over her next order, forces herself to put some distance with the situation, “Okay. I’ll be there. Five minutes max. Yeah. Hm. Okay.” 

She doesn’t remember her hand placing the phone back into her receiver, doesn’t remember what she had been supposed to be doing before all this. She sits there, a numb feeling growing inside her chest and instilling the air with a heavy emptiness. 

It happens all the time, she tries to tell herself fiercely when the tears slowly creep up on her, it always happens. That’s what being a doctor is about. 

But that doesn’t help. Not in the least. Soon enough, the girl finds herself curling up on her office chair, making herself as small as possible, clamping her lips shut so that no one can be subject to the sobs that are racking up her throat with an insistence that burns through her trachea. 

Her patient had only been a little girl, only five years of age. She had been diagnosed with Stage Three Terminal Lung Cancer, and yet when the first operation had shown signs of hope, Mae had allowed herself to dwell on the fact that there might be a happy ending. 

But there never is, not really. Not when people have Cancer. 

Because even when it’s gone, it never really is. Most of the time,  it comes back to haunt you, one way or another.

But right now is definitely not the time to dwell on her personal feelings. People are depending on her, her patient’s parents and her subordinates are all waiting for the next step. So she picks herself up, breathes in a shaky, rattled breath, before slipping out of her office door to make her way to the cancer department.

It’s always tough breaking the news to the ones who cared the most. Mae learnt that this was just something she’d have to live with, considering that it is her job. So she tries wrenching herself out of the situation, tries putting some distance like she’s just a spectator, a bystander of the whole thing. By the time she makes it back to her office though, she barely has any energy left to reel in her emotions.

“Mae!” 

Not now, she thinks to herself. Barely turning over her shoulder, she catches a glimpse of Hyunjae running down the corridor, worry etched on his face. 

“You okay?” he was breathing hard, had practically ran all the way from his ward upon hearing the news, “I heard from one of the interns--” 

“I’m okay,” Mae produces a weak smile, which does nothing to help her situation because he can read right through her. Instantly, Hyunjae’s eyes fill with concern as he takes a step closer, “Listen Mae--”

That’s enough for the tears to burst out of her. Like a broken dam, the tears keep coming, wave after wave of emotion crashing through like a storm that causes her knees to give out beneath her and she’s glad when Hyunjae manages to catch her in mid fall, for she is pretty certain she wouldn’t have been able to catch herself. 

He’s calling her name. She knows he is. But it takes her a few long seconds for the words to make some sense through the bubbles of guilt rolling through her chest.

“Do you want me to call Kevin?” Hyunjae’s voice breaks through her stream of thought and she barely starts nodding her head that the said man takes off down the hall like there is fire on his heels. 

A few minutes later feel like eternity, until she dimly feels the warmth of a hand press onto her shoulder. She gets a whiff of vanilla and mint wafting through the air; Kevin. 

“Hey,” his murmur comes a few seconds later, washing over her like medicine soothing over a wound, “Mae, it’s okay. Come on. Let’s get you to your office.” 

She stumbles over her feet as he gently wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her along, barely aware of Hyunjae’s worried figure trailing them with an uncertainty that can only be found whenever he’s placed in such situations. 

“Here,” a tissue appears before her face and she grabs it gratefully, blowing her nose without restraint while Kevin squats before her, his hands on either side of her body cradling her with warmth. Hyunjae closes the door to the office and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest with barely concealed concern furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Mae mumbles out through a series of choked sobs. She forces herself to stay steady, but it proves to be harder than she thinks. Kevin, probably noticing her struggle, quickly places his palm on her knee to keep her steady before his head tilts up to hers. 

“It’s okay, breathe,” he inhales a breath so that she can follow, exhales it out through his mouth, “that’s right, that’s it. You’re doing great Mae.” 

His other hand reaches out to rub comforting circles over her arm, his eyes never straying from hers as her heartbeat slows down, her tears drying up and her sobs diminishing into soft sniffles.

Mae has always been the one with the fragile heart, despite her berating statements that she was tough and just as resilient as all her friends. Behind closed doors, she would always be found crying for the little girl who hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to her mother, for the boy who had dreams so big they didn’t fit in his heart, for a family broken apart because of a mere disease that had taken one’s life away. 

Life is unfair in that way, and while Mae tells herself over and over again that it’s not her fault, the guilt still sits in her stomach, a stubborn rock that has etched its way into her like a scar that re-opens every time she finds herself in a similar situation. 

She’s lost count of how many times she breaks down behind closed doors, how many times Kevin has to bring her to her senses to stop her from quitting altogether. It’s a flaw, he had stated firmly, but definitely a flaw that shows the world how much she cares, a flaw that is a necessity in such a harsh world. 

Closing her eyes with fatigue, she drops her head and Kevin squeezes her shoulder in comfort, “I’ll take you home, okay?” 

Hyunjae steps forward to hug her goodbye while Kevin proceeds to zip up her bag, and Mae allows herself to get swallowed up by his tall frame, feeling the strength of his arms holding against him. 

“Take a day off tomorrow,” says Hyunjae when he pulls back, eyes lingering over the blue aprons underneath her eyes, “you need it.” 

Mae doesn’t agree, causing the said man to sigh, “you’re impossibly stubborn for someone so tiny,” and that’s when she cracks into a tiny smile despite the situation, before Kevin motions for her that they should go.

“Don’t you have a night shift today?” she can’t help but ask when they reach the parking lot. Kevin unlocks his battered Honda and she slides in, relishing in the warmth of the seat as her legs get some relief. 

Kevin slides into the driver’s seat beside her before tossing their bags into the backseat, “I made Chanhee cover for me.” 

“But isn’t he just--” 

“He’s a resident and a pretty good one at that, and I told Hyunjae to keep an eye on him,” Kevin slowly slides his car out of the parking lot and slides out into the pouring rain coating the streets in a slippery glistening layer, and it’s not long before they are zooming down the highway back to their neighbourhood. It makes Mae feel a little bit better that the said man lives just across the street from her, so that it’s not much of a detour whenever he has to drop her home after tiringly long days like these. 

She had asked to pay for her part of the gas once, but he’d flat out refused, quite offended that she’d think him so cheap he’d accept her proposal. Mae had only rolled her eyes, slightly touched at his chivalry. 

He pulls over to her side of the street and Mae is about to unbuckle her seatbelt, when he sets the car into park and turns off the engine. She shoots him a quizzical look that prompts him to answer, “I’m not letting you go to bed like that. You need food.” 

“I’m not a baby--”

“Can’t hear you,” he singsongs as he slides out of his car and walks up to her front door as the woman hurries to catch up with him. As usual, Kevin’s stubbornness outshines her concern for his sleeping schedule and she finally relents in allowing him to cook her some kimchi stew, partly because he’s so stubborn and partly due to the fact that he’s an amazing cook.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Mae says when the table is set with a pot of steaming kimchi stew, two bowls of rice on either side. Kevin sits opposite her and doesn’t hesitate to plop a huge ladle of stew over her rice bowl. 

“Stop complaining and eat,” he answers with a stern look, to which she obliges without much protest, sparing him a few glances once in a while. It is in such moments that she can’t help but find her friend attractive, no matter how much time she’s spent with him growing up. Kevin, she realized, is now a man just like any other, and it sometimes hits her that he can get whisked away at any moment in time, just like Juyeon has been. Not that she minds, but a pang of realization dawns through her then, prompting her to question how long she has before her friends all veer off to get girlfriends, wives, and families of their own. Just the thought causes her stomach to churn uneasily.

“Why aren’t you eating?” 

Her attention snaps back to reality the moment Kevin’s words pierce through her brain. Her eyes find his and she quickly blunders for an answer, “oh I was just thinking, you know…” 

“About?” asks Kevin while spooning some soup into his mouth. 

“Juyeon has a girlfriend now, so that means he’s going to be ditching us more often,” Mae can’t help but blurt out even though she winces at how harsh she sounds, “and soon you and Hyunjae will be dating, getting married, have kids of your own.”

“Trust me, I don’t think Hyunjae is ready to have kids so soon,” Kevin says, “he can’t even take care of himself.” 

“You know, girls can change that.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.” 

“okay fine, not Hyunjae then,” Mae laughs, “but you like kids, and you know how to take care of yourself. Why haven’t you gotten a girlfriend yet?” 

Kevin falls silent at her question, a silence that seems to linger on for a little too long while an undecipherable expression seems to flicker across his face. 

Mae raises a brow in question, “what? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing, I just--” Kevin shrugs although she knows it is so much more than that, “there is someone.”

“What?” her eyes bulge out of their sockets, “and you didn’t tell me?!” 

“Nothing happened yet,” he says hastily, raising his hands as if in surrender, “she doesn’t know anything.”

“Why not? Are you scared she’s going to reject you?” Mae throws him an astounded stare, “have a little faith in yourself, Kev.”

The said man makes a noncommittal noise. Mae continues, “for what it’s worth, all the girls in my ward know who Doctor Moon is and trust me, they are interested.”

“What about you?” Kevin’s tone turns serious then, his voice ringing a little deeper, gaze zeroing on hers, “What do you think of me?” 

“What?” She blinks at him, partly guessing that his words are a mere joke. But when Kevin’s expression stays unflinching on hers, confusion stirs through her mind and she can’t help but let out a little snort to lighten the atmosphere, despite the sudden constriction inside her chest, “why does it matter what I think of you?” 

Kevin stares at her for a moment longer, gaze probing hers in a manner that seems like there’s something else, more things he wishes to say. She opens her mouth to ask, only to clamp it back shut the moment his eyes slip away and focus on the food before him instead. 

“Nevermind,” he mumbles out, before stuffing his face with rice and kimchi, “it doesn’t matter.” 

Mae is certain that whatever it is definitely matters to Kevin. There’s a sneaking suspicion that he’s hiding something important, something that she knows, yet doesn’t wish to say it out loud for fear that it might just make it all the more real. Her heart flutters suddenly inside her chest and she shuts it back down the moment it breathes to life, not wanting to bring about any unwanted suspicions for fear that hoping will only make it worse. 

So she lets the matter drop and moves on towards lighter gossip involving the staff. Kevin’s mood brightens at her change in subject, and the awkwardness that had been lingering in the air dissolves as the two continue talking like there’s nothing in-between the lines. 

At least that’s what she likes to think.

--------

“Hey Juyeon, can I ask you a question?” 

The said doctor looks up from his pile of paperwork, his glasses slipping down his nose as he does so. Mae stands in the doorway, glancing throughout the room and scrunching up her face in mild disgust. She motions towards their almost invisible table, “you guys should really try organizing your stuff better. I can barely breathe in here.” 

“This is all Hyunjae’s, you know that,” Juyeon scowls and leans back against his office chair. Then, realizing what she’s gone through yesterday, quickly frowns at her in concern, “more importantly, how are you feeling?” 

She brushes him off with a wave of her hand, “oh I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay,” he tries gauging her expression for any signs that she’s lying. When he doesn’t find any, he gestures for her to continue.

“Do you know who Kevin’s into these days?”

Juyeon chokes on his own spit, “Wh--What?” 

“Do you know,” Mae repeats slowly, “who Kevin likes?” 

“Why--How--Why would you--” Juyeon fumbles with the question like it’s a ball of fire dancing between his hands, “--Who told you that?”

“He told me.” “WHAT?”

“Uh yeah,” Mae frowns, “Why?” 

“Uh--Well…” 

“Well?” She crosses her arms before her chest, cockng her head at him as she waits. 

Juyeon would later thank the heavens when another figure suddenly bursts through the door, “Juyeon!” 

The latter is quick to scramble to his feet, “Dr. Sangyeon!”

“You’re shadowing me, now,” the said doctor’s coat is ruffled, clothes rumpled and hair sticking up in all kinds of places, “the stupid intern in question called in sick this morning. Honestly, young people these days--” 

Mae doesn’t hesitate to move out of Sangyeon’s way when he blunders past, still muttering to himself about the issues of modern society. Being the oldest of the staff group makes Sangyeon the most fearful one out of all doctors, with his stocky build and his stern face that seems like he’s never even cracked a smile before, it is no wonder that most interns fear for their lives whenever their shifts coincide with his.

That includes Juyeon, who wastes no time in scrabbling for his coat and quickly blundering past Mae with a quick apology and a promise that they’ll meet later for dinner.

So Mae tries to corner Hyunjae in-between appointments instead, in hopes that he will give her the answers she seeks.

That, however, proves to be futile. 

“Huh?” Hyunjae gawks at her like she has grown an additional pair of eyes on her face, and Mae frowns at him in annoyance before waving her arms in barely restrained frustration, “what? Didn’t you know?” 

“Erm...I--Uh--” He suddenly makes a dramatic point to check his watch, “Oh my! Look at the time!”

“What? Hey, wait--” but Hyunjae is practically flying out of the door too quick for her to catch up with him. He jogs away, turning over his shoulder to give her a salute, “I’ll see you later, Mae!” 

Mae lets out a frustrated sigh, almost stomping her feet in the process. Why is it so hard to get people to talk to her these days? She thinks to herself, huffing and tucking her hair behind her ears in a frustrated manner. She has no other choice but to go about her usual activities, checking on patients and making sure that all of them are getting the right treatments. She walks in and out of departments for the right paperwork, help out some other staff members in need of additional advice and occasionally drop hints about Kevin’s newfound crush, to no avail. It either seems like no one has noticed, or they just avoid the subject altogether, brushing her words over their shoulder like they mean absolutely nothing. 

She’s almost about to give up when surprisingly, her answer comes dropping out of one of the residents in the Neurosurgery department. 

“Wait? You don’t know?” Jacob Bae’s eyes widen with surprise, taken aback by her question and making her eyebrow quirk up questioningly, “Oh my god. You don’t know. You’re so dense. Everyone knows!”

“Really? Because I’ve been asking literally everyone and none of them have given me any answers,” she shoots back. Jacob shakes his head, a grin forming on his face. Taking a quick glance around to ensure that there weren’t any ears in the vicinity, the caramel doe-eyed doctor ushers her closer and cups his hands over his mouth:

“Kevin Moon is crushing on you.” 

-------

OH HO HO HO THINGS ARE GETTING SERIOUS. 

[danceworshipper]

Confession - Fifth Year

"Rowan, come with me."

"Huh?" Rowan looked up from her book curiously.

Sarah grit her teeth. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Rowan asked as she closed her book to put it in her bag.

"I don't know, outside somewhere, I guess," Sarah said. "Wherever no one else is."

Rowan cocked her head in confusion. "If you're avoiding people, why are you inviting me?"

"You'll find out, alright? Just come on."

Rowan stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. Sarah turned on her heel and hurried out of the library. To say she was having second thoughts would be an understatement. She was probably on her hundredth thoughts by now. This could not go well. Rowan wasn't like that. Letting people in was bad. Letting people in killed you.

Sarah stopped dead in the hall, causing Rowan to bump into her.

"What's wrong?" Rowan asked.

Sarah took a deep breath. You need to heal, Bill had said. She won't hurt you.

"Nothing." Sarah walked again.

The sun was setting and a cool autumn breeze swept by. Sarah zipped up her sweatshirt as she continued walking. There didn't seem to be people over by the hillside. They could go there.

Rowan stayed a bit behind Sarah all the way there, only catching up as Sarah slowed to a stop. Rowan set her bag down and stood next to Sarah, looking out at the sunset.

"It's, uh, it's pretty, right?" Sarah said, mentally smacking herself for the lame attempt to start the conversation.

"It is pretty," Rowan agreed. She glanced up at Sarah for a moment. "I think sunrises are beautiful though."

"You've seen a sunrise?"

"Every year on the summer solstice, my grandmother would take me to see the sunrise. Well, every year besides this year."

Sarah clenched her jaw. Rowan's grandmother had had a stroke over the summer and was still recovering. Rowan hardly ever talked about it.

"Heard any news on her lately?"

"No," Rowan said quietly. "I think that she's getting worse and doesn't want to worry anyone."

"My uncle did that," Sarah said before she could really stop herself. God, she had never mentioned her uncle before. Why would she bring him up now?

"Huh?"

"My uncle. He had cancer. We all thought he was doing better until we got the news that he had kicked the bucket."

"I'm sorry," Rowan said. "Were you close?"

"He was basically my dad," Sarah admitted. "My actual dad is a cheating douchebag."

Rowan's eyes widened. "I never knew."

"I didn't want anyone to know. He didn't know I knew. I didn't even tell my mum. I guess I thought it would be better to have a breaking family than a broken one."

Rowan stepped closer, a look that Sarah couldn't quite read on her face.

"Mum found out this year," Sarah continued, "on her birthday. I haven't heard from her since. She took every single trace of her."

Sarah tried to inhale, but it stuttered.

"I shouldn't be this upset. I shouldn't even be telling you."

"I'm glad you're telling me," Rowan said. She cautiously placed a hand on Sarah's arm. "It almost feels like you trust me."

"I do trust you."

"You - you do?"

"Yeah. I don't know why."

Oh dear god, smite me, Sarah thought. Rowan was doing the smile. The stupid dorky smile that made Sarah's heart race. I can't do this. I can't.

"INCOMING!"

Rowan was no longer standing in front of Sarah.

Sarah stared as Rowan's limp body fell down the steep hill. The bludger that had hit her kept zipping around.

Skye Parkin ran up next to Sarah, panting.

"What the fuck did you do?" Sarah demanded. She should be chasing after Rowan. Why couldn't she move?

"I wanted to see how good of a Beater I would be," Parkin said.

"You're a fucking terrible one," Sarah growled.

Rowan had come to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Sarah finally got her legs to catch up to her brain and raced down the hill. She could feel Parkin following her.

Sarah skidded to a stop and dropped to her knees. Rowan's head was bleeding from a large cut over her eyebrow, and she wasn't moving besides for a minuscule rise and fall of her chest. Sarah felt panicked.

"Oops," Parkin commented.

"Oops?!" Sarah yelled. "Oops?! You could have killed her! Why weren't you doing your stupidity on the goddamn pitch?!"

"Slytherin had it booked," Skye said defensively. "It's not my fault you decided to do your sulking in the open space."

"You are the reason I hate Gryffindors," Sarah hissed.

Sarah got her arms under Rowan and stood up with her. Rowan wasn't as heavy as she thought she would be.

"Maybe go catch your bludger before it hits someone else," Sarah said, pushing past Parkin to make her way up the hill. The dammed bludger was still zipping about; it had complete free reign. "Actually, let it hit you."

Sarah walked as fast as she could while carrying another person. The Hospital Wing wasn't that far of a walk from the front doors, but it felt like 1800 miles. The halls were suspiciously empty, which probably meant that dinner had started. Hopefully Madam Pomfrey ate in the Hospital Wing.

The doors were open when Sarah got there, which was a good sign. Sarah hurried Rowan over to the row of beds and laid her down on the nearest empty one. The blood had stopped flowing, thankfully. Somehow, the blood stained on her face made Rowan more alluring.

"Miss Etsysa, what happened here?"

Sarah didn't look away from Rowan's head. That was really a nasty cut.

"Parkin hit her in the head with a bludger."

Madam Pomfrey tutted. "Miss Parkin does indeed need to learn to exercise a bit more caution. This wound doesn't appear to be that deep, though, so hopefully the worst Miss Khanna will get out of this is a concussion."

"When will she wake up?"

"I'm not sure. Shouldn't be more than a few days."

"Hm."

"You seem concerned."

"With all due respect, Madam Pomfrey, Rowan happens to be my best friend. I'm offended how shocked you seem that I care." Sarah glared over at the nurse for a moment.

"I can handle this from here," Madam Pomfrey said to change the subject. "You should go and eat."

"Fine. I'm coming back afterward."

"You may only stay until curfew."

"Yeah, I know."

Sarah wandered out of the Hospital Wing and down the hall. The Great Hall was as noisy as ever, which didn't improve her mood at all. She made her way over to her seat at the Ravenclaw table, which was empty. So was the seat next to it. Rowan's seat. That seat shouldn't be empty.

"Are you alright?" Badeea asked as Sarah randomly put some food on her plate. "You seem more tense than usual."

"Parkin's a dumbass."

Badeea chuckled. "Well, yes, we knew that. What did she do this time?"

"She put Rowan in the Hospital Wing," Sarah snarled.

"Oh goodness!" Badeea exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Apparently Parkin wanted to see if she could be a Beater. Hit Rowan right in the head."

"That's terrible," Badeea said. "What did Madam Pomfrey say?"

"She should make it out with just a concussion but it might take her a couple days to wake up."

"That's a pity. We have double History tomorrow. Isn't that Rowan's favorite class?"

"Yep."

Badeea's attention was called away by a younger Ravenclaw that she had been tutoring. Sarah didn't mind. She didn't really feel like talking.

She had randomly grabbed some steak while she had been talking, which she regretted. The steak at Hogwarts was always overcooked; Sarah liked it rare. The broccoli, which she had also grabbed, was the exact opposite: undercooked to hell. It was barely even warm half the time. It was no wonder Sarah's diet was so bad. The only foods the House Elves didn't screw up were the easy ones like pasta and chicken.

Sarah noticed Skye Parkin entering the Great Hall. She didn't even look guilty. Sarah glared and stabbed her dried out steak with the knife.

"Calm down, will you?" Tulip snapped. "You startled Dennis."

"Boo fucking hoo," Sarah said.

Tulip made a face. "Bitch."

"Describing yourself, huh?"

Tulip rolled her eyes and focused her attention on her toad.

Sarah gave up on the thought of eating and stood to leave. Before she could get past the doors, however, a firm hand gripped her shoulder and stopped her in place.

"Bill."

"Sarah, are you alright?" Bill asked. He moved around to face Sarah since she didn't turn to face him.

"No, I'm not alright," Sarah said. "Would have thought that was obvious."

"What happened?"

"Rowan. Parkin. Bludger."

Bill winced. "That's not good."

"Nope."

"You really don't want to talk right now, huh?"

"Nope."

"Alright. Go break something. Just make sure to repair it afterward this time."

"Yeah, yeah."

Bill stepped aside and Sarah continued on her way. Myrtle was in for a show today.

[sanctum-of-fantasy]

@aphrodites-bloody-rose It’s that day again, it’s your birthday! So here’s a short fic to enjoy on this day!

Title: Worth More Than Bronze Series: Saint Seiya Character(s): Taurus Aldebaran, Pisces Aphrodite, Aries Mu, Kiki Word Count: 3072 Summary: Sometimes life hands you gold or lemons. Sometimes when you stop a black market from selling all kinds of magical animals and things, life hands you something else entirely. Aldebaran never looked back, even if looking forward presented a challenge.

“I found more crates in a truck bed” Aldebaran called out to Aphrodite who nodded and frowned as he watched the taller Saint placed them near a tent.

“This is such a mess” The Pisces Saint replied, sighing and tucking back several strands of hair behind an ear. “There’s so much here, most I don’t even know what it is or how they got it” and the entire thing left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Word had reached Sanctuary, as it always had with their advanced and deep networks, of a black market going to take place on one of the smaller islands of Greece. Normally, they would turn the matter over to the proper authorities but there was something strange about this one. Word was it was a market for the mysterious and fantastical, living or not and with that Athena sent Aldebaran and Aphrodite to handle the trouble with a small group of Sanctuary soldiers. They were to dress as civilians and investigate before calling in the guard.

A precaution that only turned to be for the best. They found the location and quickly realized how grave the situation truly was. Within a few minutes of observing the ‘market’ they had sent the signal and every dealer and buyer were arrested, save for a few that ended up as rose covered bodies. Aphrodite’s silent outrage was clear. They would handle the others later, until then they would stay locked away in one of Sanctuary’s prisons.

Which left the matter of the…stock, as if anything they found could be called that. There were animals, more like creatures as they were far too strange for that word. Birds with four long wings, lizards with stained glass like frills and crests, small griffon like ones that were no bigger than a medium-sized dog with peacock tails and long eel like creatures that flickered many colors in tanks. There were more too, as well as remains or bits of others. Pelts of furs, skulls and bones and then there were the jars. Clear things with labels such as ‘harpy’s talons’, ‘scales of a mermaid’, ‘venom of a manticore’ and an endless list of more.

If it was one small fortune the creatures had taken a liking to Aldebaran and didn’t peak, hiss or bite when the gentle Saint had refilled their food, water or stepped into their enclosures. Though it was clear to Aphrodite that the entire event bothered him, a deep sadness never left his eyes even as he lightly petted one of the peacocks like griffons as one of the four-winged birds sat on his shoulder.

For him, he had his own brand of bitterness and sorrow.

Besides the animals there plants, wild and exotic. Some were lined up in the sunlight while others were kept in the shadows. They called to him, asking for water or to moved just slightly towards the light or darkness. They were like nothing had had ever seen; a long vine bearing one that glowed in the shadows, one like a persian shield but with longer leaves in shades of blue and while, flowers that sounded like chimes when a breeze moved through them and another red flowering one that unfurled its petals and whispered a life among ladies in a city built in towering trees and lit lanterns before it had been stolen away when its captor tricked one lady into falling for him. Its sadness was clear, and he promised to return it to its right home as soon as he could. He gave it his name and it returned with its own; Nymph’s Heart.

They had sent a messenger bird after they had arrested everyone and received word back only a while ago. They were to spend the night, partly in case others came but mostly to watch over the beasts until of Sanctuary’s special contacts arrived to begin caring for…everything. The process of returning the animals to their natural environment, to sanctuaries or reserves would be a long one but worth it in the end. As for the plants, well…that would depend on the contact’s opinions and in the worst case, he always had room for new plants in his temple or gardens.

“If you want to switch, I can work on the list” Aldebaran said, resting a hand gently on his shoulder.

Aphrodite rubbed at his eyes and nodded, handing over the clipboard and pen “I’ll look over those crates then, we still have some daylight after all.”

“Of course, we have most things accounted for, I couldn’t find anything else besides those ones” He replied, gesturing over to where he laid them out. “First one was mostly jars of plants and er…odd books and scrolls, I didn’t open them.”

‘Those might be more aligned with Deathmask’s expertise’ Aphrodite thought, the Cancer’s library had been full of the stuff, an inheritance from those who came before him and he had taken a liking to the subjects. Then again, Shura had some as well though any books he had were an old, old form of Celtic they never could translate. ‘Well if the expert has little knowledge on them, we can deliver them to Cancer easily enough.’

Oh he could only imagine the glee on the Cancer Saint’s face when he returned with several dozen new tomes for him to devour.

‘Until then’ he thought as he pried open a crate ‘I best make sure there’s nothing we’re forgetting.’

Luckily enough, the crate held only items instead of living things. Small, clear boxes of palm sized crystals and rocks. Bolts of various cloths that shimmered, felt like ice to the touch, chain mail and another few that seemed to have runes etched into them.

“I don’t recognize these” Aphrodite sighed as he ran a thumb of one the bolts, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. It felt electrifying yet not painful, within him his cosmo stirred and seemed to brush forward towards it. “But I think giving these to Mu might be a good idea” He held one up for Aldebaran to inspect.

“That…that is odd” The Taurus agreed, eyes widening as he felt the same sensation and handed it back.

“To put it mildly” He nodded, slipping the bolt back into the crate and replaced its covering. “Now, let’s see what’s in the last one hm?”

The final crate was covered in chains and was lined with layers of blankets and straw on the inside, something completely different from the others they had seen and broken open. Aphrodite passed Aldebaran a “something is wrong” look as Aldebaran lowered himself beside him.

“Something important is in here” Aphrodite breathed. No one would put chains on the outside of something if they didn’t want someone to get in easily or for something to get out. Compared to everything else, who knew what that something was.

They dug slowly and carefully through the straw, tossing it to the sides as they went deeper in, until at last they stopped. A blanket wrapped something rested in the middle of the crate, larger than a football though a vaguely familiar shape.

Carefully, Aldebaran reached in and pulled it out. “It’s heavy” he noted before pulling back the blanket some and freezing.

Both Saints eyes went wide and Aphrodite covered his mouth with a hand.

It was sleek, like it was made of smooth metal that reminded them of their armor, yet the color was different. The shape was familiar because it was an egg, a heavy metal like egg.

“What creature could make this?” Aldebaran looked towards Aphrodite who shook his head.

“I have no idea, but something tells me we’re going to find out.”

----

Once they arranged everything in the shutdown market, the two saints retired to one of the tents they bought along with them and made themselves comfortable for the night. Well, as comfortable as they could considering one of them would be up part of the night before switching with the other. As for the egg, well Aldebaran had raised chickens before, and Aphrodite had hung around Shura long enough for some of his farm life experience had supplied some knowledge. They heated a blanket up by a fire and wrapped the egg in it entirely. They agreed that between keeping watch to make sure the blanket stayed warm as well.

Aldebaran had offered to take the first watch and currently sat by the crackling fire, arms crossed as he looked towards the night sky, the egg wrapped safe in a basket beside him. The sky was clear, and he could make out the stars making up several constellations, the weather was warm too as it usually was in Greece. It was peaceful in sharp comparison of the frenzy of the day.

Though it wasn’t an awful day, they stopped an illegal market from taking place, saved several creatures and hopefully would be to stop more from happening. It was also nice to interact with Aphrodite too, they rarely spoke unless they had too, what with their different social groups but he had always hoped to bridge any gaps that existed between him and the other Gold Saints.

The usual aloof but charming Aphrodite had shown a softer side of him today, not just through his words but in his actions. The horror he expressed when they first arrived, the anger to the people who dared to do such terrible things and then the sadness towards the creatures and plants. It was a rare to side but one he hoped just slightly to see more of.

“And then there is you” Aldebaran sighed as he took a sip of his still pipping hot tea and looked towards the egg. “Part of me hopes you don’t hatch too quickly; I fear we won’t know how to look after you properly. But then again, I can’t help but be curious to know what you are, can you blame me?” he chuckled.

Perhaps it was silly to speak to an egg, yet it was soothing to get his thoughts out of his mind.  “Though, hopefully you won’t be too dangerous-hm?” he paused, a sound reaching him and causing him to go on the alert.

An odd sound, like a chirp then followed by the basket shifting and-“Aphrodite!” he shouted, twisting around to see the lantern inside the tent light up before he focused back on the rocking basket.

“What, what? I’m awake!” The Pisces shouted, stumbling out of the tent and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“The egg!” He replied as he pulled the basket on it his lap to steady it and pull back the blanket just in time as it began to crack. Sounds came forth like odd squeaks and cries as a paw-if that was a paw-began to claw at one side as another began to kick more at the metal like shell.

“Oh sweet heavens, now?” The Pisces gasped and returned with the lantern to shine over the Taurus’ shoulder as they watch an awe as a small form broken its way into the world.

A head poked and nudged at part of the shell before another part of the egg exploded out from the side as another appendage-a wing-broke out. As quick as it begun it ended as Aldebaran moved bits of the shell out of the basket as the creature did the rest of the work.

There was a long tail, four legs, a long neck for its size and two wings, a row of nubs adorned its head that would likely grown into a crest, in the light of the lantern it looked like it was covered in yellowish scales. It slide out of the rest of the shell before tripping on its wing and landed on its back, chirping as it stared up at them and they stared at it.

“Aldebaran…what is that?” Aphrodite whispered as he leaned over his shoulder more.

“I…I believe it’s a dragon” He replied, looking towards the other Gold Saint, heart beating hard against his chest. Questioned flew in his mind, how was it possible? Where did it come from? How did someone get it? Did the expert know anything about dragons? What were they going to tell Athena?

----

Two days later, Aldebaran found himself trying to hush his housemate and close a door.

“Shh, shh, I know you want to explore but not right now, I don’t know how Mu and Kiki will react to you yet” He said, voice even as he bent down to try and nudge the small, energetic creature inside “It’s only for a few minutes I swear.”

Every day since they returned from the mission had been busy and chaotic. The expert had arrived early in the morning just a few hours after the dragon had hatched. The animals, many endangered as it turned out, had been begun to be sent to safe places with trusted hands. The items in all shapes and forms were generally safe and the expert saw no harm and in allowing Sanctuary to keep them; tomes and scrolls to Deathmask, rocks and fabric to Mu, weapons to Shura and the plants…the plants went to Aphrodite’s expanding gardens.

And the dragon…to him.

It was a bronze dragon the expert told them, one of many breeds of dragons in their world. They were fond of warm weather, swimming and were more common in the Mediterranean areas. They were friendly he said, they loved people and rarely fought unless they had to, or they sensed an enemy was evil. They generally liked humans and often took the forms of them but the infant was too young to learn such a thing. It had been stolen away from a lair most likely, few people hunted dragons and even few hunted metallic ones. The expert had promised to do his best to find its family though that might take a while as dragons, especially bronze ones, were difficult to find.

And once he was the first thing the little one had seen; it would be difficult to have someone else look after it besides its parents. Until then, he was left with a handful of notes how what was safe to feed the baby dragon and things to watch out for, like odd gas from its mouth or bolts of lightening as that was apparently what bronze dragons breathed rather than fire.

Aside from Aphrodite, Athena, Saga and Aiolos, no one else knew of the dragon’s presence. Though part of him wondered if Aphrodite told Deathmask or Shura.

That was going to change today, as Mu wished to have lunch with him and young Kiki. It only made sense to him to let his lover know about the newest, temporary guest of the Zodiac Temples as Mu and Kiki had been away in Jamir until today.

Just as he finally shut the door, he heard Mu call out to him, Kiki sliding over a corner to run towards him.

“Alde! Alde you’re back!” He shouted as he ran and leapt to give him a hug as Aldebaran bent down to catch him.

“So are you short stack!” He laughed and stood up as Kiki hung on to one of his arms.

Mu only smiled and shook his head “And he didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.”

Kiki made a sound of disgust and stuck out of his tongue “But it was so early when we got back!”

“Tsk, Mu you know how bad jetlag can be” Aldebaran teased and chuckled as Mu rolled his eyes.

“but you know what does help with jetlag? Food, some of lunch is ready!” He said, swinging Kiki lightly towards the kitchen area. The kid gasped and let go just he swung slightly forward and dashed off to start digging into the food no doubt.

“Kiki, won’t eat everything!” Mu shouted, getting a drawn out “Fine” as a replied.

“He’s getting ready to hit another growth spurt soon” Mu sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

“It’s only natural, he’ll be a preteen before you know it” Aldebaran laughed only to jerk when he heard the dragon chirp behind the door.

“Alde? What was that?” Mu asked and looked around.

“Uh…must have been a bird?” He offered, silently stepped towards the door.

Mu gave him a hard, knowing look “Something is behind that door, isn’t it?”

“Yes! But I really ought to explain before I let it out-“

Too late, there was a sound of a door handle being broken and then there was the feeling of small, needle like claws grasping at his back as the dragon climbed up him and leapt off his shoulder. Mu gasped and took a step back as it moved, dashing off towards the kitchen in an awkward gallop, what with its tail and wings trying to trip itself once and while.

“Good heavens, what was that?” Mu shouted they bolted towards the kitchen, hearing Kiki squeal.

“I swear I can explain!” He shouted back as they sprinted.

Their worry faded as they around a curved corner and sighed in heavy relief.

There was Kiki, holding the wiggling mess of limbs that was called a baby dragon as it was a puppy or kitten. The dragon simply squealed back and chirped, tail moving back and forth just as puppy would, wings spread out as it nudged its head against Kiki’s cheeks. It was surprising to see Kiki hold the small creature, given they were almost the same size.

“Alde…what…that…that can’t” Mu gasped out before straightening his back and leaning towards the doorway with his mouth agape. “That can’t be a dragon” he managed to say.

“It’s a bronze dragon, technically” He replied, smiling sheepishly as Mu gave him a wide-eyed look while Kiki to the floor and laughed without a care in the world. The young dragon sniffed and flickered its tongue at him before leaping off him and began to wiggle its backside like a cat about to pounce.

“Bronze? What, how?” Mu asked.

“Can we keep it!” Kiki shouted.

“No!”

“I kind of have too!”

“Huh? Have to-I” Mu paused and dropped his shoulders as he pressed a hand against his face. “What exactly happened on your mission?” He asked.

“It’s kind of a long story” He said, rubbing a hand against Mu’s back “I’ll explain as we eat but…want to help pick out a name?”

[tcswritings]

Friends.

Declan and Mick, some drinks, a heavy subject and, finally, a reconciliation.

***

“Can I get ya anythin’ else, Sir?”

The young and cheerful waitress, armed with pen and paper, cocked her head a little and she put on a bright smile, ready to get him anything he wanted, but Declan once again shook his head.

“No, thank you!” he replied politely.

It was the second time she had asked him whether he wanted anything else than just a drink and Declan could read her bewildered expression quite well: How am I supposed to be a good server when service is denied? The girl was really young, eighteen at most, and she had probably just started training or maybe she was even still at school, trying to earn some extra money after class.

School... how easy life had been when they had all still been students. Declan’s mind drifted off again but only for a few moments until the girly voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I can go back and get ya our menu with the specials? Maybe ya just need a lil’ inspiration, eh? Just take a look, ya might find somethin' that strikes your-”

“No!” Feeling that he might have interrupted her a little harshly, Declan smiled at the girl, glancing at the little nameplate over her chest. “No, thank you... Rosalie. I’m waitin’ for someone, I’ll order later if that’s okay with you.”

Rosalie cocked her head again and she eventually sighed and shrugged, putting her little stationery as well as her pen back into the little pocket of her apron. “Fine with me? Just do a little wave or somethin’, and I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you!”

Declan appreciated the young girl’s enthusiasm and kindness but he didn’t feel like talking to anyone just right now. He nervously looked around the little diner and while he really missed the familiarity of The Dirty Deed, he had figured that it would be for the better to do this on neutral ground, without any inquisitive eyes around them.

He checked his phone for the time and realised that Mick was a little late. That wasn’t unusual - he had always been a somewhat confused soul. They both were - Declan was well aware of his own chaos - but Mick had this special kind of absentmindedness that could both be endearing and irritating but when he thought back to all the situations caused by said absentmindedness now, Declan merely smiled to himself. He had never fully realised how much he had liked Mick’s little quirks until he had decided to be no longer a part of his life.

It has been six very long months at this point. Far too long, Declan thought, but he was hoping that the situation might change for the better today.

About five minutes later - just when he pondered the idea of waving Rosalie over anyway - the diner’s door opened, causing the little doorbell to happily chime, eagerly announcing the new guest and when Declan spotted the familiar figure walking in, he could feel the little lump in his throat growing bigger. He swallowed hard, feeling even more nervous than before and his mind suddenly worked hard to come up with the weirdest thoughts.

What if he’s in one of his weird moods? What if he pulls me right over the table and knocks me out?

Nah, don’t be ridiculous, he has already kind of done that, remember? It just ain’t that much fun the second time.

But what if he doesn’t listen anyway? What if he only comes here to enjoy the sight of me being in agony?

Oh come on, don’t be an arsehole again. He’s not a sociopath. Even if he still hates you, he cares about Ash. Give him more credit already!

Fine. I’ll just wait and see, I guess.

Wise decision.

Declan was so caught up in his thoughts that, when he looked back up, he had lost sight of Mick but his confusion didn’t last terribly long - his former friend just slumped into the seat across from the little table between them, shrugging off some of the cold from outside when he took off his jacket, tossing it on the empty chair next to both of them, on top of Declan’s. 

Oh god, what do I even say now? I think I’m panicking. Quick, mind, come up with something to say! Something smart. Hurry! I can’t just say hi, that’s too-

“So.” Mick interrupted his thoughts, putting his forearms to the armrests of the chair, shooting him a challenging glance. He looked different than the last time Declan had seen him - less neat, the most notable change being his unusually long light hair - it had grown out to almost shoulder length.

Declan thought that he looked a bit like a deranged elf and he found the thought oddly amusing although the situation wasn’t funny at all. Looking closer, he couldn’t help but feel that Mick’s deranged-elf version looked a wee bit menacing but that was probably just his own perception, because in this moment he felt utterly terrible for everything he had ever done to him, that he had every right to look at him like he did, and it was the moment when he eventually understood that this hasn’t been about a woman between them in a long time.

This was about them - two grown up men and formerly best friends - having grown apart somewhere on their way, neither of them really knowing why and when it had happened and Declan realised that, whatever the outcome of today might be, things would never be like they used to be again, either way.

“Uhm.” Declan swallowed again, frantically searching for the last bit of his confidence but it had probably bolted once Mick had entered the diner... whatever.

“Ya look like shit, y’know.” Mick cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

Ouch. Well, at least it doesn’t look like he’s gonna kick my arse.

“Yup, I know. I thought I’d make my appearance match my mood.”

“Hm!” Mick pursed his lips now, giving him a little nod of approval. “Kinda worked.”

“Thank you!”

It was so odd - they had only exchanged a few words at this point, not even the nicest of all words, and Declan had already cheered up heaps. Just having Mick sit here with him felt like such a relief, even though he didn’t know whether they would ever find a way to become friends again.

When Mick didn’t say anything for a while, Declan could no longer hold it in.

“The hell is goin’ on up there, man?” he asked, tipping a finger to his own head, referring to the new look that Mick presented today - he was usually really fussy about his appearance and he always made sure to wear his hair in some neat ‘do but nothing was left of that today.

When Mick realised what Declan was talking about, his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Yer not seriously talkin’ about my hair now, are you?”

“Nah, I just think it’s-”

“What?”

“Woah, don’t gimme the death glare now, I was just saying-”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“No!”

“Kurt Cobain would be proud!?”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry!” Declan cried out. “I just wasn’t prepared for that sight, that’s all!”

Mick made a face and casually crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “Look who’s talkin’, man. You look like y' just crawled outta the next dump.”

“Yeah, but I’m depressed!”

There was a pause. The banter was over, the ice was broken, Declan could feel it.

“Aye, I bet y’are.” Mick merely said after a few moments and Declan could literally watch him lowering his guard a little. There were a few more moments of silence before Mick went on. “So, it’s, really... y’know...?”

“Yeah. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or something like that.”

“Well, shit.”

Declan nodded. “It’s still in an early stage, as it seems. They’re running a few more tests these days, chances of recovery are good but still...”

“It’s a huge pile o’ shit.”

“Yeah. I mean, he still has to go through treatment hell, man. Chemotherapy, radiation... I don’t even wanna think about it.”

Mick merely looked at him, biting his lip. There was concern in his eyes, it was obvious, it was genuine and Declan took it as a silent encouragement to go on.

“I feel sick when I think about it. I mean, I know you’ve seen some hospitals from the inside but have you ever been to a pediatric cancer ward?”

“No.” Mick shook his head.

“That’s the most depressing shit I’ve ever seen. The only way I can picture my kid is happy and healthy. I don’t think I can handle that, man. I know I have to but I don’t know how. I feel so goddamn fuckin’ useless.”

A few more moments of silence until Mick cleared his throat. “I, uhm. I dunno what to say, to be honest.” He looked down to his folded hands on the table.

Declan smiled a faint smile, actually appreciating the fact that Mick was lost for words as he had quite a few people coming up to him within the past few days, people he had met in the hospital only minutes ago at the time, people who didn’t even know him and who felt the need to tell him to “think positive” or that “everything will turn out just fine” and while he knew that they didn’t mean any harm, quite the opposite even, they had still made him want to snap some of their bones, preferably one for each empty word they had uttered.

Today wasn’t about random people with useless advice, though. It was about winning back a lifetime friend. Declan took a deep breath.

“Look, man, I can’t undo what I did, okay? I want to. So bad. You have no idea. This is not me trying to pull at your heartstrings or something but... please stick around for a while, okay? ”

“Dipso-”

The use of his old nickname surprised Declan a little but he couldn’t be sure if it was really a good sign, so he went on.

“No, honestly - I’m begging you. You don’t even have to do this for me, y’know. Do it for him, okay? Because for some weird reason that kid loves you. Personally, I can’t think of any reason why but he does. Just... consider it for a bit. It’s all about him.” Declan could feel his voice trembling so he stopped right there.

The voices in his head had long stopped making silly noise, too, as they were now tense with fearful anticipation.

It was the moment. I hope he still knows that this is our way of saying that we miss him and want him back.

Mick shot Declan an uninterpretable glance before he let out a little sigh. “Y'know what? I’m starvin’. What about you?”

Okay, what the hell? What is wrong with this man? I thought we were having a moment here!

“Erm, wh- I- what?” Declan blinked.

“I can‘t stick around while I’m starvin’, man!”

“You’re enjoying this, aren‘t you?” Declan grumbled but he wasn’t mad at all.

“A bit?” Mick smiled. “Sorry.”

Declan smiled back briefly before he realised that he was hungry.

“Actually... now that you mentioned it, I could eat? My appetite hasn’t been grand lately but right now...?”

“Right. Food, then.” Mick looked around the diner. “Are actual people workin’ here or what?”

“Yeah, wait, I got this.” Declan said as he looked around the place, too, and when he found the person he was looking for, he raised his arm.

“Hey, Rosalie!”

***

(... to be continued.)

[rainbow-sides]

Anomalies: Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Anomalies is about different reactions to grief and how four brothers each respond to the death of their mother. The oldest brother, Roman, gets custody of the twins, Patton and Virgil, and the youngest brother, Logan, after their mother’s death. Virgil is also trying to navigate through a multitude of anxiety disorders, including OCD and trichotillomania, with the help of his brothers and his therapist, Dr. Picani. But meanwhile, Roman isn’t sure he can handle the responsibility of taking care of his brothers, Logan doesn’t process loss in a way most people can understand, and Patton isn’t nearly as okay as he seems…

Warnings: Death of a parent, grief, cancer mention, mention of attempted suicide, mention of severe depression and self harm, gift-giving, food, Christmas.

For a list of the content warnings for the whole story as well as more information, please see this post. Please heed the warnings and stay safe.

Word Count: 3,236

Notes: This is mostly just the Christmas chapter, with bonus Remy! <3 ~Martin

Masterpost to All Chapters

“Don we now our gay apparel, eh?” Roman called, bounding into the living room wearing a slightly ugly rainbow Christmas sweater. He laughed at Logan and Virgil’s groans, and at Patton’s delighted squeal.

“Can't we just open presents?” Logan complained. “A fashion show is not necessary.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman tossed a package to each of his brothers. “Actually, a fashion show is absolutely necessary. Go on, I want to see you all wearing them!”

The tearing of wrapping paper filled the room. There were sounds of delight as everyone saw their sweaters. “Are these hand-knitted?!” Patton exclaimed.

“I didn't know you could knit,” Logan said, stroking the soft material and smiling.

“My friend Kelly from work taught me and helped me,” Roman explained. “I've been working on them for months.”

“They're beautiful,” Virgil said softly. “Thank you.”

Patton had already put his sweater on and ran over to hug Roman. “Thank you, I love it!”

Roman squeezed him tightly. “Love you, Pat.”

“My turn!” Logan scrambled to hand Patton a large, heavy package.

Patton opened it and looked at it confusedly for a second before his eyes widened. He pulled out a large, blue and grey plaid quilt. “Is it a weighted blanket?” he asked.

“Yeah, it's heavier than mine because they're supposed to be twenty percent of your body weight,” Logan said. “I thought...you might like one. They're grounding.”

Patton had sat down on the ground and was wrapping the blanket around him, an expression of pure contentment on his face. “It's so cozy and warm and soft,” he sighed happily. “Virgil, come share!”

Virgil slid under the corner of the blanket. “Oh, this is a nice one,” he said. “It is really soft, you're right.” He nestled down in the blanket next to Patton, closing his eyes.

“We're not getting them out of that anytime soon,” Roman laughed. The twins looked very comfortable. “Maybe you should've saved that one for last, Lo.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Logan said. “I do have a gift for you, too, but I think it would be better if I showed you later.”

Roman tilted his head. “Some big secret?”

“Yes, exactly. Can we give Virgil our present to him instead?” Logan suggested.

“If we can distract him from the blanket for long enough,” giggled Roman. He picked up the box under the tree that had Virgil’s present that he and Logan had gotten together.

Virgil reluctantly pulled his arms out of the blanket to take the box into his lap. “It's heavier than it looks,” he observed. He carefully sliced through the tape on the package with his fingernail and took the wrapping paper off in one piece. There was a long pause where he just stared at it. “Whoa,” he breathed.

Logan and Roman exchanged a glance. “Do you think he likes it?” Roman asked.

“Hm, I'm not sure,” Logan replied.

“I think he needs to tell us what he thinks,” Roman said, reaching out to poke Virgil. “Hello? Anybody home?”

“I...I wasn't expecting…”

“If you don't want it, give it back,” Roman teased.

“No, it's mine!” Virgil retorted, hugging the box to his chest. “Oh, my god, guys!” He looked close to tears.

“You better take lots of pictures with that,” Roman instructed. “That is a good camera.”

“Yeah, I know! I haven't...I haven't been taking many pictures lately,” Virgil confessed.

“I know.” Roman reached over and put his hand over Virgil’s. “This is so you start again. Okay?”

Virgil nodded. “I will, I promise. Oh, Roman, Logan, thank you!” He blinked his tears away and smiled. “I love it.”

“It was Logan's idea,” Roman made sure he knew. “I just provided some of the funds.”

Already opening up the box, Virgil said, “Its battery needs to be charged...but I should be able to start taking pictures tonight. Oh, it's beautiful!”

“I'm glad you like it!” Logan said.

“Here, this one is for you,” Virgil told him, handing him a thin, flat box. “I...um, it's from a while ago, but I gave it some new life.”

Logan opened the side of the box to slide the picture frame out. His face didn't give much away, but his eyes sparkled as he turned the frame around so everyone could see it. Roman recognized the picture as being from a photoshoot that Virgil had made them do at the beginning of his photography class last year. He had taken them all out to a field in the middle of the night, all of the brothers and their mom, and taken pictures of them sitting together with their backs to the the camera, holding hands and gazing up at the sky. They had to sit very still, Roman remembered, because Virgil had set the shutter speed slow enough to capture the light of the stars. They shone clearly in this photo, probably having been enhanced, and thin white lines had been added between some of the stars to form the constellations.

“It's alright,” Logan said in a small voice, but it meant so much more, and Virgil understood.

“Good, I'm glad.” Virgil looked at Roman and Patton. “I hope you like it, too, ‘cause you all get photos.”

“Well, hand them over!” Roman took the package that Virgil held out and opened it. “Ahh,” he breathed as he opened it. It was a very simple photo of himself sitting on the edge of the stage at the community theater, deep in thought and not aware of the camera. The golden lighting and red curtains behind him made the picture seem more dramatic than it probably had been at the time. Roman’s shape was slightly out of focus, more the background than the subject. The silhouette of three people sitting in the audience was the foreground of the photo, and Roman recognized their shapes as being Logan, Patton, and their mother. The rest of the audience was empty. Roman didn't even remember sitting there like that. He had no idea that Virgil had taken his picture. “It's really nice, Virge. Thank you.”

Virgil gave him a thumbs up and a smile, and then passed Patton the third package. It was a smaller frame, and Patton stared at it for a long time before he showed the others. Virgil watched him carefully, pulling the blanket tighter so he could snuggle closer to his twin.

Roman didn't say anything when he saw the photo, just nodded. There was a sudden lump in his throat.

“Your first homecoming,” Logan stated.

In the photo, Patton was standing with a bright smile, holding their mother's hands as she laughed about something. He was wearing the dress he had fought the administration to be able to wear to the dance in support of their trans and nonbinary friends at school, and she was just in a t-shirt and jeans, but she looked beautiful. She had always been beautiful, even when the cancer had made her thin and weary, her hair fallen out from the chemotherapy. But this was before the cancer has touched her--or perhaps it was already there, and they just weren't aware of it yet. Her diagnosis had come just a couple months after this picture had been taken. It captured a moment of pure joy, and Patton stroked the glass of the frame lovingly and longingly. He didn't seem to have any words. After a few more seconds, he turned to bury his face in Virgil's shoulder, hugging him so tightly that Virgil coughed.

“Patty, I'm glad you like it, but I can't breathe!” he yelped.

“I love you so much,” Patton whispered, barely audible. He loosened his grip. Virgil got his arms out to hug him back.

Roman waited a minute, then said gently, “Patty, are you gonna give us your gifts or should I grab them from under the tree myself?”

“You do it,” Patton responded, muffled. He was crying a little bit, and Virgil rocked him back and forth.

“It's okay, Patty, we can wait,” Roman said, sliding closer to the twins and touching Patton’s shoulder. “Take as long as you need.”

“N-no, you get the p-presents,” Patton stumbled. “Yours is from both of us.”

Roman took the gift bag addressed to him and opened it, gasping at the beautiful notebook and pen set inside. “Oh, it's gorgeous! Oh, thank you, I'm gonna write such good words in there, you have no idea.”

Patton was smiling and wiping his eyes, sniffling a little. “Glad you like it.”

“Someday when you're rich and famous, you better not auction those away,” Virgil teased. “Unless it's for charity, I guess. ‘This is the pen that the great Roman Sanders wrote the first lines of his award-winning script with!’”

Roman laughed. “I wouldn't auction it away, don't worry.” He handed Logan the other gift bag. “What's in here, hm?”

There was an actual squeal of delight that came from Logan's mouth as he pulled the book out of the bag. “Patton, this is wonderful, it's exactly what I wanted!”

“May it bring you hours of joy from reading it,” Patton told him.

Logan was already flipping through the pages of the collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, making ecstatic remarks about each one he came to. They all listened fondly as he talked. Virgil opened his gift from Patton, putting the sweatshirt on and smelling the purple candles with a content expression.

Roman eventually managed to drag them all to the kitchen to make pancakes, which was almost a disaster because one of them burnt so badly it started smoking, and they narrowly avoided setting off the fire alarm. It turned out fine, however, and the pancakes were delicious. Christmas movies followed, starting with The Nightmare before Christmas by Virgil’s request.

Halfway through It's A Wonderful Life, the house phone rang. Roman flinched. Hardly anyone called them there.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Patton whispered. “We can pause the movie.”

“It's fine, you don't have to pause it.” Roman wriggled out from underneath the excessive amount of blankets they were cuddled under and ran to get the phone before it stopped ringing. “Sanders residence.”

“Hey, girl, merry Christmas.”

Roman bit his lip. “Rem, this isn't the best time.”

“Please?” Remy begged. “Please, you haven't answered my calls in months and I just wanna talk for a few minutes.”

“Okay, okay! Fine. Hold on.” Roman came back over to the couch. “It's Remy,” he whispered. “Don't pause the movie, I'll be back in a few minutes.” They all gave him a sympathetic look. Roman fled to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, sitting on the bed. “Yeah, Remy. I'm here.”

“Girl, oh my goodness, it's nice to hear your voice,” Remy sighed. “You okay?”

“I'm…” Roman hesitated. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Okay, I know you've...had a lot going on,” Remy said. “And I know you've needed to spend your time taking care of your baby bros. But...I've been kinda worried about you. All of you. Can I have any sort of an update?”

Roman clutched the phone tightly and said nothing. This was hard. Really hard. It was hard to talk to Remy after everything that had happened between them.

“Ro, honey, listen. I'm good with giving you as much space and as much time as you need, I promise. I told you that before, and I'm telling you again now. I'm waiting, for as long as it takes.”

“I know,” Roman managed. “And I love you for it. You deserve better, someone who can actually be there for you--"

“Don't you start that again,” Remy warned him.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay, girl, it's okay.” Remy paused. “How's Patton? Poor baby.”

“He's doing better,” Roman answered.

“Yeah? Oh, that's good, that's good, I've been so worried about the kid. Miss him. I see Virge sometimes when I'm helping out in the school theater, but he doesn't talk much. And how's the baby genius?” asked Remy.

“Logan's doing pretty good.”

“And how are you?” Remy said seriously. “Roman. Be honest, ‘kay?”

“Rem...if I'm honest, I'm gonna start breaking down on the phone with you,” confessed Roman, his voice shaking. “I can't talk, not really. Not yet.”

“Come see me soon,” Remy said softly. “Come see me when you can talk, really talk. I'll be here."

“I know. I know.” Roman swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Merry Christmas, Rem.”

“Yeah, girl. Merry Christmas. Love you.”

“I love you.” Roman hung up quickly before he could start crying. He closed his eyes. After a minute, he stood up and went back to the living room. He slid underneath the blankets next to Patton and grabbed his hand, fixing his eyes on the movie.

“You okay?” Patton whispered softly.

“Hardly,” replied Roman.

“Is Remy okay?”

Roman squeezed his hand. “He's fine. Shhh, talk later.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. It's okay.” Roman smiled reassuringly at him and kept watching the movie.

Late that night, after Roman had talked to Patton a little bit about the phone call and everyone was supposed to have gone to bed, Logan came into his room.

“Hey, nerd, what's up?” Roman yawned.

“Did you forget? I have a present for you,” Logan said.

Roman eyed him suspiciously. Logan didn't seem to be carrying anything. “Okay, where is it?”

“It's not an object.”

“Okay...what is it, then? You've sufficiently piqued my curiosity.”

“Promise you won't be angry?”

“Uhhh...tell me what it is, first.” Now Roman was slightly worried.

“It's just, I did it without your permission--but if it's not something you want, it's easy to back out, I promise, I did a lot of legal research, and nothing is actually signed, of course.”

“Logan,” Roman said calmly. “What did you do?”

“I got you a book deal.”

“A...book deal.”

“With a publisher. A small publisher, but a legitimate one. Like I said, I did a lot of research. And you can back out of the contract at any time.”

“Okay, first of all, how?” Roman demanded. “You're fourteen!”

“I registered myself as a literary agent with a company that didn't have an age restriction, and I communicated with the publishers only via email,” Logan answered. “I, well, I got the idea from School Story, by Andrew Clements.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” Roman scoffed. “Is this legal?”

“Morally dubious, but technically legal. And the publisher wants your book, Roman. They aren't supposed to sound eager, but the way she was talking about how much promise your novel has and how much she liked your writing, and the deal she offered you...of course you should look at the contract before you sign it. I just…” Logan shifted where he stood. “Perhaps this was a bad idea.”

“Logan,” Roman said softly. “How long have you been working on this?”

“Since I finished editing the first draft three weeks ago. Well, longer than that, actually.”

“And there's a publisher who wants to publish...my novel.”

“Yes. It's a very good deal for a first novel, too, and above average royalties, and…” Logan was fiddling with his thumbs, looking rather nervous as he swayed from side to side. “But as I told you, you don't have to take it. I just got the opportunity for you.”

Roman was trying to wrap his head around this. Part of him wanted to chastise Logan for doing something like this behind his back. Another part of him just wanted to pull Logan into a big hug. “You think it's good enough to publish?” he asked.

“Not only do I think it's good enough to publish, the publisher agrees with me,” Logan said.

“My silly little novel?” Roman checked. “Are you sure you didn't accidentally send them something else?”

“I'm positive. Your novel. A publisher wants it.”

“And you did this for me.” Now Roman was getting a bit choked up, which made Logan seem even more nervous.

“Roman?”

“Come here,” Roman demanded, and he wrapped Logan in the tightest hug he could muster. “Come here.”

“So you'll take the deal?” Logan squeaked, clearly having a hard time breathing.

Roman let him go. “I'll have to look at it first, and actually talk to this publisher myself.”

“Of course!”

“And under no circumstances should you ever do something like this again. I thought we were done keeping secrets?”

Logan crossed his arms. “I thought it didn't count if it was a present?”

“Finding loopholes now, huh? You'd make a good lawyer if you weren't so set on being a medical researcher and college professor, buddy.” Roman nudged him playfully. “Okay. You're gonna show me everything tomorrow morning. But right now, we're going to bed. Night, Lo.”

“Then...you're okay with the present?” Logan checked.

Roman’s face split into a grin. “It's the most thoughtful present I've ever gotten.”

“I didn't do much,” muttered Logan. “You're the one who wrote the book, I simply made someone else see the potential.”

“And you edited it and encouraged me and had faith in me even when I didn't.” Roman poked his little brother's nose. “We make a really good team, huh?”

Logan gave him a tiny smile and backed out of the room. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Lo. Sleep well.” Roman laid down on his bed in the darkness. He reached for his cell phone and hovered his finger over Remy’s contact for a minute before putting it aside again.

He and Remy had been together for almost two years before they had parted ways. Remy was Roman’s first kiss, first love, first everything. They had a friendship based on trust, which had been hard for Remy to form at first. It had broken Roman's heart to tell him that he needed space, that he didn't have the time or the energy to maintain their relationship when it became clear that his mother wasn't going to make it, and that he was going to be responsible for his brothers.

Remy, wonderful Remy, had understood. He had told Roman he would wait for as long as it took until Roman could be with him again. They were both in the production of Singin’ in the Rain even after they had broken up, with Remy absolutely nailing the role of Cosmo even when Roman was struggling to balance rehearsals and family, and Remy had been the one to tell the cast that Roman had to quit after Roman had officially told the director. Roman was so grateful to him for that.

He had fallen apart in Remy’s arms only once, a week after the funeral. Roman had left work and found himself driving to Remy’s house. The door had opened before Roman had even knocked, and Roman let out everything that he had been holding in because he couldn't let his brothers see how much he was struggling. They had to believe he was strong, or they would have been so scared.

“I can do it, I can take care of them,” he had insisted, sobbing and barely able to stand. “I just need to...I just…”

Remy had pulled him inside and held him as he collapsed to the floor. He didn't say much, but he didn't have to. Roman only needed someone he could break down around, someone with whom it was safe to show his weakness. Remy drove him home a few hours later, long after sunset when the other three boys were all asleep. Roman didn't know exactly how long Remy had sat with him. He remembered falling asleep to Remy rubbing his back, and the next morning, there was a text saying that Remy’s ma had picked him up and brought him back home.

Roman hadn't replied. Virgil was the only one who talked to Remy much after that, since he occasionally drove him home from school. Resolving to at least text Remy tomorrow, Roman closed his eyes.

Hope you enjoyed! It’s been a while since I posted, I was just having a hard time finding the time to post over the past couple weeks because I’ve been so busy doing adult stuff. <3 ~Martin

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[schrijfpen-blog]

Not Just Cinderella Ch. 2

Story Navigation

              “So, is anyone going to tell me what happened in class?”

    Logan’s words have me shrugging my shoulders, “I have no idea,”

    “I can’t believe it, I just can’t believe it,” Elena waves her hands busily, the neon bracelets clanking together noisily. “Prince Charming actually sat with us, us!”

    “Yeah, that,” Logan glances over at the excited girl. “And you don’t think that’s a little strange?”

    “Oh yes, definitely,” she nods gravely, bobbing her head. “But still, he sat with us!”

    Logan shakes his head at her excitement before he looks over at me. “Did he do anything weird to you?”

    “No, uh... He lent me his pen but that’s all. He didn’t really say much either,”

    “Hm...” 

    “Why? What’s wrong?” He looks oddly suspicious.

    “It’s nothing,” Logan waves me off. 

    “Oh! How’d it go with the thing-a-majing you were called for?” Elena asks, finally snapping out of her Prince-Charming-induced-daze. “Are you in trouble?”

    Logan rolls his eyes. “Oh, it turned out to be nothing. She thought I did something, I didn’t do it, she didn’t believe me so I’m getting detention anyway,”

    “What?” I gape at him “That’s so unfair!”

    “Well, whatever,” he shrugs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie “Not like I care, it’s just detention,”

    Logan you should definitely start caring a bit more about this injustice. 

    “It’d be nice if detention were a subject. I’d pass it with flying colours,”

    His relaxed attitude makes me sigh. “Please don’t be so proud of that. Your track record is really horrible this year,”

    “Sorry,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I’ll be more careful. Cross my heart and stuff,”

    I click my tongue at his reply, but he simply gives me a laid back smile. Adorable idiot. Someone definitely dropped him on the head when he was a baby.

              The next two classes are pretty uneventful, and when it’s time for break we reach the cafeteria in no time at all. Separating from Logan and Elena, I walk over to our usual table while they disappear into the crowd to buy their lunches. I sit myself down at my seat and take out the sandwich I prepared this morning.

    I still can’t wrap my head around what happened this morning. The school’s very own Prince Charming had somehow deemed me worthy of his company. Since when do things like that even happen?

    A loud, painfully familiar laugh drags my attention over to the table in the centre of the cafeteria. It’s the unspoken ‘popular table’, but we of Loserville like to call it the ‘Fairy Tale Table’, or FTT for short. Especially since it has Prince Charming, but we quietly gave some of the other table sitters roles as well. Of course none of us plans to tell Dakota that we dubbed her the Wicked Witch.

    Only the rich and beautiful are allowed to sit at that table anyway, even if you can remove 90% of that beauty with a wet wipe.

    The one laughing is Cecilia, the twin sister of Drew who is seated next to her. They both have wavy long, black hair and gray eyes which would honestly look about half their current size without the fake lashes and flattering make-up they always busy themselves with. Stylish and poised, it’s no surprise that they hang out with Dakota; little bees under the reign of their queen.

    Personally I’m all too familiar with how rich Cecilia and Drew are; though no one has really realised yet, they’re my stepsisters. Gotta be grateful for the world’s small favours though: despite being in the same grade, we’re not in the same class. That’d be enough to make anyone wonder if God is real and looking out for me a little, right?

    I peek a glance over at the other side of the table where most of the guys are at. When my gaze meets a familiar baby blue, my body does an odd little twitch and I swear I can see a small smile before I turn my head away.

    No way.

    Since when is direct eye contact even a part of ogling Prince Charming?

    Wait, why was he even looking my way at all?

    “You look like you’re ready to throw yourself into a dingy little hole to wait for death,”

    Wow Logan, thank you.

    He sits down opposite me while Elena sits next to me, and I try to ignore the delicious scents of their food and to focus on my slightly dried out sandwich instead.

    “Did anything happen?” Logan asks, raising a fry to his lips.

    Mm... Fries... I must be staring at his food more than I thought because he suddenly dangles a fry in front of my face, a grin on his lips. “Here girl, come here,” he teases “Come and get it,”

    With a playful growl I rise up in my seat a bit, capturing the fry with my mouth. Elena bursts out into a fit of giggles at my side and I sit myself back down, suppressing a wide grin and turning my attention back to my own food.

    Most of the break is spent eating our lunches and random things we plan to do. Though, for me, there’s not much to say where that’s concerned.

              Seven times. Throughout the school day I made eye contact with Prince Charming seven. Freaking. Times. And let’s not linger on how often exactly I glance his way, but instead let’s give it some thought that, before today, I don’t think he ever glanced my way even once.

    Is today even a real day? Am I dreaming?

    The air is still as cold as it was this morning, and the walk home is uncomfortably long without Logan around to amuse me. It’d be nice to ride back with Drew and Cecilia when the weather is like this, especially considering how Cecilia has a car, but I think they’d rather strangle themselves with their own insides than have anyone associate the three of us with each other.

    To be honest, that thought is a little comforting.

    Fortunately I make it back home before my limbs are completely numb, so I’m willing to count that as a point in my favour.

    I don’t know what other people do when they get home, but for me it’s typically the same; I put my bag in my room in the attic, grab my apron and gloves, then I get to cleaning. By the time I finish the first round of cleaning it’s often time to work on dinner so I work on that next.

    Moving around the kitchen, the sound of the door opening and closing reaches my ears, followed by laughter. Drew and Cecilia are back from wherever they went. Judging by the sound of various bags being dumped unceremoniously on the floor, I’m willing to bet they went shopping with Dakota again.

    “Alexis I’m hungry! Hurry up!” Drew calls.

    Then make your own food, please. 

    “Food is almost done,” I carry the tableware out of the kitchen to the dining table, yelping when I nearly stumble over a shopping bag, fumbling to stay standing without dropping anything.

    “Watch out, you klutz,” Cecilia scoffs at me, waving a hand like she’s royalty or something. “Those are new, you know?”

    You damned slob. You know your mother would kill me and mutilate my corpse if I’d drop these plates!?

    “Sorry, I’ll be more careful,”

    “See to it,” She sniffs haughtily before turning her attention back to the TV.

    Snob.

    “You’ll unpack them for us, won’t you?” Drew asks airily, knowing full well that I’m not in a position where I can’t say no.

    “Of course,” Minding the bags, I take out the rest of the tableware, setting the table for three before returning to the kitchen to grab the food.

    The front door opens again, only this time it comes accompanied with a stern, “Goodness gracious. Why are all these bags here? Am I to break my neck?”

    “Welcome back, mother!”

    “I already told Alexis to take them away but she hasn’t yet,”

    Of course I wasn’t! I was making your food!

    “Alexis!”

    Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Okay, let’s go. Carrying out the steaming plate of lasagne, I plaster a smile on my lips. “Welcome back, ma’am. Did work go well?”

    “Why didn’t you clean up the bags yet, Alexis?”

    Cold and unforgiving, her gray eyes stare at me as if I’m no more than a speck of dirt at the bottom of her shoe. Actually, she’d probably prefer the dirt. As usual her ash blonde hair is pinned back into a neat bun, the tailored navy skirt-suit fitting her form perfectly.

    “I was going to move them aside after I finished setting the table, ma’am,”

    “You’d have me break my neck, Alexis?”

    Shouldn’t you be asking your bratty kids that question?

    “Of course not, ma’am. I’m sorry,”

    “Put everything away, now,” she turns her head away, as if the conversation is over.

    “I was planning to put everything away after dinner-“

    “Did I stutter, Alexis?”

    I press my lips together for a moment before forcing out a, “... No, ma’am,”

    I ignore the giggles from the couch and place the last of the food down on the table before gathering all the bags strewn throughout the living room, barely able to carry them all. My stomach clenches when they start to eat, and I allow a longing thought to my own plate of food in the kitchen, before starting the struggle in carrying the bags up.

    I can hardly remember what my life was like before Vivaldi and her daughters moved in. I vaguely remember spending some wonderful times with my mother and my father, but the memories aren’t as prominent as the memories of mother’s failed battle against cancer.

    Father had grown sullen, and the air would often be heavy. I’d tried my best to cheer him up and he’d try his best to cheer me up. Despite our best efforts, it was hard to keep the good cheer.

    One day he’d come to me, struggling to broach the subject of remarrying. He said he’d fallen for a lovely widow, and that it might be good to fill up the house with laughter once again. I hadn’t looked forwards to a new mother, but I wanted father to be happy. And so, with a smile, I’d given him my blessing.

    Too bad the promised kind new mother and fun sisters turned out to be from Witchville.

    They’d play nice enough when father was around, but whenever he’d leave on a business trip, I’d often go ignored. It was lonely, but it was doable. I had my friends, my hobbies: I had anything I needed to keep myself amused, knowing that when father would come back from his trip things would get better.

    When news came that father would not return from a business trip, things only got worse. His body was never found, devoured by the sea. Where there is no body, there is hope, right...? Even though survival is, by all means, impossible, the lack of closure had me hoping, even after he’d officially been declared dead.

    Though, it seemed I was the only one who was hoping and grieving...

    My room somehow ended up becoming Drew and Cecilia’s, and I shudder every time I see what they did to it. The old and rickety attic became my new room; a cold place where the heater never wants to work properly. 

    At first I got ignored, but then, bit by bit, they started demanding things from me. 

    “Try cleaning,” they’d said while laughing. “It’ll help take your mind off of things,”

    Well the joke’s on them, because I just happen to like cleaning just fine. It’s relaxing, and it’s nice to see everything become clean after my efforts. But it would be nicer if those brat sisters wouldn’t mess up my efforts on purpose.

    However... I’m sure that once I’m eighteen Vivaldi will expect me to leave the house. Lord knows she’s hinted many a times that, with the small inheritance left to my name, I’ll surely find myself a different place to live, right? Though she can’t kick me out due to fear of how it’d be perceived by society, there will be no trouble for her if I decide to move out on my own.

    This house filled with memories... It pains me to think that one day I won’t be living in it anymore, but it pains me even more to think that the rest of my life will look like this.

    The clothes are finally put away, and I make my way back down. I let my food heat up in the microwave while I clear up the dirty dining table, taking my plate up to my room once I’m done.

    I sit myself at the uneven desk and start up the old laptop that once belonged to Drew. It’s slow, noisy, quick to overheat, and I honestly fear a bit for my life every time I have to start it up. I eat and prepare my school books while I wait for the laptop to start and hope the fan won’t quit working and force the laptop to shut down before I can finish my history essay.

              When the last of the chores and my homework are done, it’s nearly midnight. I carefully lower myself on the creaky bed with a tired grunt, turning my back to the nightstand that holds the book I’d been reading the past few evenings.

    I close my eyes with a small sigh, curling up under my blankets, trying to ignore the cold and the sound of air whistling through the small creaks left in the banister of the window.

    Another day is over.

[wednesdays-in-paris-at-cafes]

MICHEL: I figure if I stay alive long enough, these scientists, they will be able to cure anything including death, therefore ensuring my indefinite existence.

DEAN: So what’s the movie for tonight? LORELAI: Oh my god, a classic. RORY: The Joan and Melissa Rivers Story, starring… LORELAI: Joan and Melissa Rivers. A mother and daughter torn apart by tragedy. RORY: Suicide. LORELAI: Not getting The Tonight Show. RORY: Mean boyfriends. LORELAI: Identical noses. RORY: You’ll laugh, you’ll cry. LORELAI: Because you’re laughing so hard. RORY: It’ll be an evening to remember. LORELAI: And in the pivotal scene where a very distraught Joan gets locked out of High Holiday Services because she’s late, I will be forced to rewind it and play it over and over about four thousand times. RORY: You’ll never be the same. 

LORELAI: You are the great white hope of the Gilmore clan. You are their angel sent from up above. You are the daughter they didn’t have. RORY: Mom. LORELAI: No, it’s not a ‘feel sorry for me’ thing. It’s just the truth. I mean, you’re gonna go to college. Hell, you’re gonna graduate from high school. They’re gonna get to watch you walk down the aisle wearing your cap and gown and get your diploma and go to Harvard and be a Phi Beta Bimbo and graduate with honors and just set the world on fire. And that is the plan, looks like it’s gonna happen.

RORY: Let’s go. LORELAI: Where? RORY: Wedding dress shopping. LORELAI: Uhhh, you’re reading. RORY: I’m done. LORELAI: Uh, you need to see Dean. RORY: He’s playing softball. LORELAI: Your cure for cancer’s almost finished.

RORY: Time? LORELAI: 8:30. RORY: I’m late. LORELAI: Hold on, coffee! RORY: Thanks. I’ll see you tonight. LORELAI: Wait, one sec. RORY: Mom, I have to be there in twenty minutes. LORELAI: I know, but I made you something really cool. RORY: Can’t it wait 'til tonight? LORELAI: It won’t be cool tonight. RORY: What do you mean it won’t be cool tonight? What loses its cool factor in twelve hours? LORELAI: This. [holds up a hammer decorated in pink] RORY: What is that? LORELAI: A hammer. RORY: It has feathers on it. LORELAI: Yes. RORY: Why? LORELAI: So the rhinestones and bows won’t feel lonely. RORY: What do you want me to do it? LORELAI: Build a really pretty house. RORY: How long is it gonna take me to talk you out of giving that to me? LORELAI: Forty minutes, an hour, tops. RORY: Hand it over.

DEAN: Hey. RORY: Hi. DEAN: Where you going? RORY: I have to build a house. DEAN: Okay, so where you going? RORY: I’m serious. DEAN: You’re going to build a house? RORY: It’s for charity and I’m late, and why don’t you go on inside and you and my mother can continue the 'Rory’s building a house’ routine and when that gets boring you can move on over to 'Who’s on First?’ DEAN: Well, how long are you gonna be gone? RORY: I don’t know, why? DEAN: I just thought we could hang today. Maybe see a movie, get something to eat. We could go to a bookstore, I’ll watch you browse for six or seven hours. RORY: I would love to but I have to do this thing today. DEAN: Blow it off. RORY: I can’t. DEAN: Did I mention the bookstore for six or seven hours?

MAN: Okay, where you from? RORY: Chilton. My name… MAN: Come on Chilton. RORY: No, it’s Rory. Chilton’s my school. MAN: You got a hammer? RORY: Oh, yes, sir. MAN: Where is it? [Rory takes out the decorated hammer and shows him] RORY: It’s a real hammer underneath. MAN: That’s a hammer? RORY: Well, it’s just dressed up a little. MAN: You dressed up a hammer? RORY: No, my mother did. She does that. She, um, she takes thinks that aren’t pretty and makes them pretty, like a hammer, you know. One time she made individual outfits for my liquid paper bottles. A clown, a cowboy, a newscaster. She’s not insane, she just sounds it.

LORELAI: This is incredible. This is really really incredible. My God, is there any pink icing left on the planet? SOOKIE: The whole town is in on it actually. It’s gonna be quite the affair. I think you’ll be sufficiently impressed with the amount of people that wanna celebrate this with you. LORELAI: Michel? SOOKIE: No. LORELAI: Right. 

LORELAI: “We have buried the putrid corpse of liberty.” Perfect! RORY: Mussolini it is. Um, can I ask you an ethical question? LORELAI: Mmm. RORY: Is it right to be sampling wedding cakes when Sookie’s making ours for free? LORELAI: What is right anyway, you know? Who defines right? And if eating cake is wrong, I don’t want to be right. FRAN: [calls] I’m bringing out a mocha crunch cream. LORELAI: So, ethics? RORY: Highly subjective and completely overrated. LORELAI: That’s my girl.

MAX: Ugh, I can barely walk. LORELAI: Bad shoes? MAX: I ate a cow. LORELAI: You had a steak. MAX: Plus the sides. Four people, six baked potatoes. LORELAI: Uh, you always exaggerate. MAX: Am I exaggerating? DEAN: Nope. RORY: Ooh, ice cream! [runs off] LORELAI: Ooh, I’m right behind you! [runs off] MAX: How can they possibly eat more? DEAN: Kind of surprised. MAX: I know. They’re bottomless pits. DEAN: I mean at you. You’ve known them long enough not to be so confused. [They both sit on a bench.] MAX: Oh, I’m not confused. I’m just … what do you mean? DEAN: Their eating habits are just the start of what you’re gonna have to get used to. There’s tons of stuff you should be aware of. MAX: Really? DEAN: Oh yeah. Like, don’t ever use the last of the parmesan cheese. And never get into a heavy discussion late at night 'cause that’s when they’re at their crankiest. Oh, and uh, go with their bits. MAX: Their bits? DEAN: Yeah, like, if you’re eating pizza with them and Lorelai decides that the pepperoni is angry at the mushrooms because the mushrooms have an attitude and then she holds up a pepperoni and the pepperoni asks for your opinion…don’t just laugh. Answer the pepperoni. MAX: Answer the pepperoni. DEAN: And don’t let them near puppies 'cause they’ll want to take home every one. MAX: Oh, that one I knew. DEAN: Oh, and uh, here’s a big one. If you ever think that they’re doing something crazy, they’re not. You see, after a while, their thinking becomes clear, but by the time it’s clear, they’ve already done two other totally crazy things that you can’t figure out. So there’s no catching up. MAX: You have much knowledge. DEAN: You got that from Rory. MAX: Right. DEAN: Oh, and hey, does Lorelai know what kind of ice cream you like? MAX: Yeah, chocolate chip. But I already told her that I… LORELAI: Hey, chocolate chip. [hands him an ice cream cone] MAX: Thanks. LORELAI: You’re welcome. CUT TO LORELAI’S FRONT PORCH [Lorelai, Rory, Max, and Dean walk up to Lorelai’s house.] LORELAI: Ugh, I’m so full. Why’d you let me eat so much? DEAN: Yeah, they’ll blame you.

LORELAI: Pack! RORY: What? LORELAI: Pack. RORY: What’s going on? LORELAI: We are hitting the road. RORY: What? LORELAI: Pack everything. Traveling light is for girls. RORY: What’s going on here? Why are we hitting the road? LORELAI: We haven’t taken a road trip in forever and the weather is perfect. RORY: We can’t take a road trip. You’re getting married this weekend. LORELAI: Do you have my blue swimsuit? RORY: What about Max? LORELAI: Sunscreen, we need sunscreen. RORY: Mom, stop. LORELAI: What? RORY: Are you and Max getting married? LORELAI: No. RORY: Why? [Lorelai starts crying] LORELAI: Because I didn’t want to try on my wedding dress every night. RORY: Where are we going? LORELAI: We don’t have to. RORY: Hot, cold, rocky, sandy, mountain, valley? LORELAI: I didn’t really have a particular spot. RORY: Packing for all contingencies. Got it. Light layers. LORELAI: Yeah, light layers. RORY: Do you need a book? LORELAI: Um, that Colette biography. RORY: I lost your place in it. LORELAI: That’s okay. I have to start over anyway. RORY: You got it. LORELAI: And hurry. RORY: Are we going tonight? LORELAI: First thing in the morning. RORY: Seven-ish? LORELAI: Five-ish. RORY: Wow. LORELAI: It’ll be more like six-ish. RORY: Let’s shoot for five-ish. LORELAI: You are crazy, and I love it. CUT TO LORELAI’S JEEP [Early the next morning, Lorelai and Rory are in Lorelai’s jeep driving through Stars Hollow.] RORY: Wow, totally deserted. LORELAI: We’re the last ones left. RORY: So are we almost there? LORELAI: We’re almost there and nowhere near it. All that matters is we’re going. RORY: We’re practically gone already. LORELAI: Look out world.

RORY: [turns off radio] We have to figure out where we’re going. LORELAI: No we don’t. RORY: Mom. LORELAI: The point of this is to be spontaneous. To drive and land someplace we’ve never been and never expected to be. RORY: Sounds risky. LORELAI: Sounds exciting. RORY: Serendipity has never been kind to us. LORELAI: Ah, yes, but I talked to serendipity on the phone last night. She feels bad about how she’s treated us in the past. We had a nice chat. It’s all gonna be different now. RORY: What did that sign say? It said “Don’t” or “Death” on it. LORELAI: Relax. RORY: We’re doomed! LORELAI: Wrong. We’re being guided by fate. RORY: I think we’re lost. LORELAI: We can’t be lost. We don’t know where we’re going. RORY: You’re going to stop before we drive into the Atlantic Ocean. LORELAI: I’ll try. RORY: At least we’ll know where we are. LORELAI: Unless it’s the Pacific. [turns on radio]

RORY: What’s with the face? LORELAI: Hmm, they’re taller. RORY: Not this again. LORELAI: There’s more of them. RORY: Mom, the flowers on the wallpaper are not growing or reproducing. LORELAI: Hm. RORY: Wait a minute. You weren’t writing in this thing, were you? LORELAI: Maybe some random thoughts. RORY: [reading guestbook] 'Satanic forces are at work here.’ Mom. LORELAI: What? RORY: What? What? We cannot write that in here. [changes it] Here. 'Sat and forever am at work here.’ LORELAI: That doesn’t make any sense.

LORELAI: Wow! Harvard is over 300 years old. RORY: Founded in 1636. LORELAI: That means that almost everyone who ever went to Harvard is dead now. Are you sure you still want to go here? RORY: Yes, I’m sure. LORELAI: They developed the pacemaker here. Also, discovered how electromagnetism and radioactivity are two manifestations of the same force and postulated existence of a charmed quark. I was wondering who did that. RORY: The smarties at Harvard. LORELAI: Holy smokes. They get an average of 18,000 applicants every year and only 2,000 get in. Those are not good odds. RORY: Mom. LORELAI: No no no, you’re different. Past graduates. Henry James…isn’t that a beer? RORY: And a novelist. Go on. LORELAI: John Adams. That’s a beer! RORY: Our second president. He’s very in right now. LORELAI: W.E.B. Du Bois, Yo-Yo Ma. Oh cool! Fred Gwynn. RORY: Who? LORELAI: Herman Munster. Now I’m impressed.

RORY: Oh my. LORELAI: What’s this? RORY: It’s the library. LORELAI: Oh. RORY: The biggest library I’ve ever seen. LORELAI: Uh oh. Brace yourself. RORY: What? LORELAI: This is just one of the libraries. RORY: One of the libraries? LORELAI: This building is one component of a thirteen million volume collection housed in more than ninety different libraries. It’s the oldest library in the United States and the largest academic library in the world. Breathe, breathe. RORY: I’m a failure. LORELAI: What? RORY: I am stupid. LORELAI: Oh stop. RORY: I am uninformed and ignorant and… I can’t even think of a second synonym for uninformed. I suck. LORELAI: Honey. RORY: Thirteen million volumes? I’ve read like, what, three hundred books in my entire life and I’m already sixteen? Do you know how long it would take me to read thirteen million books? LORELAI: But honey, you don’t have to read every one of them. “Tuesday’s with Morrie?” Skip that. “Who Moved My Cheese?” Just stuff you already know. RORY: Okay, but every kid coming to Harvard is inevitably reading books, and different books, and I want to be able to converse intelligently with each of them and I can’t do that unless I read books, at least a few from every genre and sub-genre. LORELAI: Okay, come on. I’m getting you out of here. RORY: I sleep too much. LORELAI: No you don’t. RORY: I’ve been frittering away my whole life. LORELAI: You don’t fritter. RORY: Did I mention I suck? LORELAI: Yes. RORY: Well I do. LORELAI: No.

LUKE: So where’d you guys go? LORELAI: Well, we drove around a little, we hit a B&B, and we took a tour of Harvard. LUKE: Harvard… interesting. LORELAI: It was amazing. Seeing Rory there, in a dorm room, in a classroom. She fit. LUKE: Yeah, I can see her fitting there. LORELAI: She was right at home. LUKE: So, how you taking that? LORELAI: Taking what? LUKE: Seeing her fit? LORELAI: I loved it…and I hated it. LUKE: That seems about right. LORELAI: Man, these past few days… just so many thoughts about my life then, my life now, what I missed. Thoughts about what I’ll never have, and what I want to have.