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nsharks · 4 months ago

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself.

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too.

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear.

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"Woah. What happened here?"

Ari leans over to tap her thigh.

"Oh—" she looks down at the thick scar, "I got shot there."

"Shit. You've been shot before?"

She nods and he moves his hand. "That's your battle scar."

"Battle scar?"

He smiles, eyes gleaming. "It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead."

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel.

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit.

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats.

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies.

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east.

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet.

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod.

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?"

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking.

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart.

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then."

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots.

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun.

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything.

You are itching for a hunt.

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought.

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment.

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?"

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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cadaveerie · 5 months ago

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cw: child abuse and non-sexual grooming

VEILGUARD SPOILERS (from lucanis' writing, a mission towards the ending and a little general)

About Lucanis and the Antivan Crows...

after finishing datv, I can finally say for sure that despite the fact that i find this game was overall fine, there are several things about it that have disappointed me. one of those things is about lucanis (and it's not even the only thing about lucanis that bothers me, but we'll leave that discussion for another time, because there's a lot to say about the writing).

in this game, Caterina Dellamorte (lucanis and illario's grandmother) is portrayed as a woman that's cold and demanding. not particularly nice, lucanis fully acknowledges that she's not exactly the loving type, and it's easy to assume things about her and about their relationship based on that... but for some reason it's never addressed that she abused lucanis when he was a child, by beating him and starving him. this is something that you can read in lucanis' story in tevinter nights, the wigmaker job, which was lucanis' introduction.

"Memories of sweat-ﬁlled days without food or water came unbidden Lucanis’s back tingled from where his grandmother’s cane had bruised his ﬂesh for letting his guard down or fumbling his footwork. For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way he was prepared for this life—that he survived."

I was waiting to finish the game before I said it, because I expected him to mention at some point but... no, nothing. I don't know if there's anything in a codex or something specific I missed, but even if that's the case, I expected it to be significant at all. it wasn't.

i'm not even going to get into what lucanis should feel about this. before the game came out i talked about some of my hopes for him based on the info we had about him, and imo there was not even half of that level of depth to his character. but i wouldnt have minded if the game went in another direction, or if lucanis simply just wasnt open to discuss it, or if he came to the conclusion that it was fine. i won't get into how "problematic" thinking that is, because i could understand that he tells himself that, and as a fucking assassin, i understand that he's come to terms with it because otherwise he probably wouldnt have survived in such a dangerous enviroment. i won't get into it bc as i said, i can understand it. my problem is that lucanis never says it. he never tells rook or anyone else that caterina abused him, or that the crows overall are very abusive and that they do this to children and break their minds basically in order to become emotionless living weapons. and if this is said in any banter, then i missed it in my 91h of gameplay, and i had lucanis in my party every single time we went outside. or it might be in a codex entry, idk. the point is that even if that's the case, that's not a great way to tell this info, especially when in the story theres no other way to learn anything like this about the crows. ppl that i talked to that didnt read tevinter nights didnt know this fact abt caterina and lucanis' past, they simply didnt cause how could they. I just wanted to say this because I think it's important to know if you like lucanis, or the antivan crows, and it's never even actually implied.

I also have many other issues with his writing, but the antivan crows are unfortunately also whitewashed. at least if you've played dragon age origins you know this, but our first antivan crow companion, zevran, talks about how he was taken as a child by the antivan crows. how he was literally bought by them as an orphan, and forced to become an assassin, and when he tries to flee, they attempt to murder him throughout the game. he even talks about how apparently some crows even made their members go through blood magic rituals to acquire abilities (SOUND FAMILIAR? IT'S LITERALLY WHAT ZARA DOES TO LUCANIS, ISN'T IT. HOW FUCKED UP). i think it's so disrespectful to dragon age's worldbuilding and so appalling that they simply... ignored all of this. I'm very upset that this was completely whitewashed. i wont get into it, but i assume they didn't show the crows being awful because, well... they have to be the good alternative for government in antiva. the bad guys are the antaam, and that's it. but one of the things i always loved about dragon age is how they treat these sort of political things. as i said, in origins the crows were more of an antagonistic figure, but at least it made them feel more real and serious. and people loved the crows like they were, fucked up assassins. in this game... idk, am i supposed to believe the assassin guys are nice? why hide the ugly? of course it's gonna be there, and it's ok. irl it happens a lot that oppressed people have to rely on groups that are less than ideal for their liberation, and a lot of times citizens are kinda ok w it bc no one else will stand up for them, so they have to work w what they have, and they're just relieved theres someone there for them. and it also shows that people are not perfect victims. if you're putting ppl in a corner, at some point ppl are rarely gonna care about being "good", and it's only human. and im not even gonna get into being an antivan crow rook because... sigh, it's more of the same. just disappointing. rook even mentions that theyre an orphan. and im pretty sure in the final mission about treviso, at least if you helped jacobus, he is like "i'll take in orphans and give them a chance". oh man, yeah. cool. please tell me how you'll raise them to be, im so curious to see how you won't groom children and abuse them into becoming mindless cold soldiers. that's fucking insane. this feels like fucking US army levels of propaganda and grooming. i love when we normalize child soldiers that's so fucking awesome i love this "woke" game when it's pro-military and anti-fucking-questioning-anything-a-military-force-does.

i even wondered if all of this has been retconned or simply ignored. i dont have a problem w retconning overall, and it's only natural it would happen in a franchise that's as old as DA, but the thing is... why would you do it. it literally just makes them flatter, it doesn't make any fucking sense.

so yes. im VERY disappointed in this game and the writing. this is one of the many things in the writing that disappointed me. the antivan crows are an organization that bring hope, and im perfectly fine with them being portrayed as "saviors", but im not ok with them conveniently not addressing any of their very bad issues. it's unrealistic. it's disrespectful to our intelligence, to dragon age fans and to dragon age origins. it's disrespectful to characters like zevran, who got into an insane war with them for a fucking reason. it's disrespectful to every antivan crow character to be honest. and im sorry, i dont even think this is insane to ask from them. like.... im literally just asking for consistency. they had it already, i dont understand why they did this. i had faith in them, but perhaps that's on me. im so heartbroken.

and i promise i actually think the game overall is ok. it was fun. definitely one of my least favorite games, if not my least favorite, but still. i appreciate it, and LOVED. LOVEEED some scenes. in fact, it might have at the very least one of my favorite scenes from the whole franchise. i think this game has very low points, and very high points, so it's hard to say what i think about it in few words.... but there are so many things like this in the writing, and it's just SO upsetting and disrespectful. im sorry. im truly sorry, you don't know how much i wanted to love this game and the writing. you have no idea. but i have self respect, and i don't lie to myself when i see something i dont like. it feels like they're whitewashing the crows cause we'd be too stupid to understand complex political issues. i thought this game was mature and could handle mature themes, but it doesnt seem like it's the case anymore. perhaps bioware is dead. i still want to believe they can come back from this but......... the post credit scene doesnt reassure me AT ALL. sigh. im just upset and sad. and as i said, this is only one of my many issues. i'll talk about the rest in the future, but im writing all of it down and i need time for that. i hope you understand that this comes from a place of genuine love. sorry i can't be happy about this game, but some of the stuff i see just ruins the rest for me.

edit: someone told me that apparently theres a banter when you go to dellamorte's villa and lucanis *implies* that he was beat by his grandmother (at least to another antivan crow rook). this whole post still stands though. i think that should have not been a banter that i (and im sure others) missed. and again, it also ties to how i think the crows as an organization and their methods were whitewashed. even if it's not particularly a lucanis problem, it could have been to some extent addressed by him.

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yoonia · 7 months ago

Text

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.

But today is not one of those days.

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.

“Hi there, do you need any help?”

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”

Find the beauty in the chaos.

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.

No, none of it involves you.

Maybe.

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.

“Yes, um. You too.”

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!”

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.

There is truly no beauty in this chaos.

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.

But, of course, it eventually did.

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.

Is the building really burning?

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come?

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe.

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”

“Is this really necessary?”

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away.

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,

“To friendship.”

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”

“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.

“I think I’m going to stay.”

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.”

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.

“No, they’re at my parents.”

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.

“Of course.”

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.

“Since the fire alert?”

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”

Namjoon laughs. “What—?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.

Dear God, help me.

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.

“Everything okay?”

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.

Desperation.

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.

“You’ve already came too many times, so—”

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.

He’s close.

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.

“Hmm…yes, it was…”

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.

Incredible. Astounding.

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.

Stay the night.

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

#namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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quietstormxr · 1 month ago

Text

Tomorrow, Always Tomorrow

Xaden POV - Companion to 'Forgotten'

A/N: FW, IF, and OS Spoilers (They're small, but you've been warned.), death, grief, loss, disappearance, swearing

Word Count: 13k

Follows Xaden's POV prior to and through 'Forgotten'.

Forgotten - Home

Please let me know if y'all think I did our favorite Wingleader justice!

Fucking Sorrengail.

My only thought as I skulk down the halls trying my best to get to Y/N’s room as quickly as possible. The beginning of this year has been a shit show trying to explain as best I could why I needed to involve myself with Sorrengail, but now with her bonded to Tairn, everything seems to be unraveling.

As I reach Y/N’s door, I can’t help my hesitation, this won’t be the first time this week that I didn’t keep my promise to her. Taking a deep breath to try and calm my aggravation, I knock lightly on her door with our rap of a knock. The seconds begin ticking between the knock and my ears are greeted with nothing but silence. Eyes focused on the grains streaking through her wooden door, my thoughts will her to open. Anxiety begins sinking her sharp claws into my chest as continual silence greets my ears.

‘Clearly the Devoted One has decided she did not want to wait.’ Sgaeyl snarks in my mind.

My eyes narrow in a glare aimed directly at my impudent dragon, always wanting the last laugh. Always putting me in my place. It isn’t as though Sgaeyl isn’t privy to all the way’s I’ve felt my failings of keeping everything contained this year. As if sensing I need some type of reprieve for the night, Sgaeyl interjects once again.

‘Dhioch says she is out at the tree line. I suggest you tread carefully, Dhioch is not very happy.’ I send my thanks back through our bond and am moving as fast as I can to her. There is nothing in Sgaeyl’s last statement that does anything to calm the anxiety still sinking its talons into my chest.

Heavy footfalls eat up the distance between the fortress of Basgiath and the tree line and the minute I step closer to the river, I see a form in the distance.

My heart cracks when she finally comes into full focus. Sitting with her back against the tree and eyes closed turned up to the stars, tracks of tears glisten in the moonlight against her skin. The silver streaks of light cast the trails in an ethereal glow, in direct opposition to the reality behind the reason they are there. Not for the first time this year, I curse myself for the many ways I’ve come to fail her.

As I take in her slumped frame, I can’t even remember the last time I was able to spend any time with her in my arms. Between Wingleader duties, aiding the Poromish, dealing with the Assembly, and now trying to teach Violet Sorrengail how to not die, I have done nothing but disappoint the enigmatically beautiful, trusting, and far too good for me girl that sits alone and crying.

It isn’t the first time that the thought of scooping her up and taking her to Aretia with me and never leaving has crossed my mind. It’s the one thought that has been playing on repeat, for the last year especially, though it’s probably been there since I first laid eyes on her.

I take another step forward and feel a branch crack under the weight of my boots. The minute the noise greets her ears; she’s wiping her tears and scrambling to her feet rushing to disguise the reason she’s out here. Her eyes meet mine for less than a second before she’s moving away.

“Wait, Blaze.” I plead as my arm shoots out to stop her from leaving, but she does her best to sidestep my reach.

“I’m tired Xaden. I’m going to sleep.” The weariness in her voice makes the talons in my chest tighten further as the truth of how much I’ve hurt her makes itself known.

I shake my head and let my shadows wrap around her waist stopping her from leaving. She’s been more than patient with me and my inability to give her the attention she deserves and wants. Constantly reassuring me that she understands that I have all these duties to complete, graciously squeezing my hand when I’m held back in training with Sorrengail, even bringing me dinner on a few occasions when things were too hectic to go myself. Never forgetting to grab me something sweet and leaving it on my desk when I return to my room, almost too tired to move. And yet, I can’t help but notice the way that the tether between us has gone taught and the usual sunny demeanor she wears wavering as the days go on.

“Come sleep in my room.” I know that I’m pushing, but I need her with me if I’m going to get even an ounce of sleep tonight. My failings be damned, she’s the only slice of peace I’ve found in this torment. “Please.”

My insomnia has been terrible since the apostasy, and she’s been the only thing that’s brought me a semblance of serenity and the ability to finally rest. Tonight though, if she’s not with me, I know it will just be tossing and turning until the morning when hopefully the anxiety would melt with the warmth of her smile.

As she turns to me, I can see she immediately wants to say no, to put distance between us and guard herself. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that she’s been pulling away from everyone in our found family. Trying to close herself off. Trying to guard her heart. When all I want to do is make her understand how much that is the antithesis of everything I want.

The last thing I’ve ever wanted was for her to guard her heart, especially not from me, not once she gave it to me. The burning fire of her love enveloped me the more I’ve gotten to know her, and I fear if she takes it from me, I’ll never feel the warmth of the emotion again.

As I look at her, I can see the hesitation in her eyes, the war that wages in her beautiful stare. The openness of her expressive eyes has always drawn me in and kept me focused on only her, though the way they’ve dimmed in the last few months has been a swift dagger to my heart every time.

With a heaving sigh she closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. “Alright.” She murmurs so quietly it barely floats to my ears.

My own emotions are torn between elation at the fact that she’ll still be with me and knowing that everything between us isn’t alright. Before we move any further, I can’t stop myself, I take her face in my hands and kiss her slowly, gently hoping to convey just how precious she is. I only hope that she can feel every ounce of my love, of the silent, desperate plea for her to be patient with this crazy life I’ve brought her into.

The kiss doesn’t last long before I’m pulling back and looking down into her eyes. My forehead leans on hers as I try to calm the anxiety that hasn’t fully receded, but it’s almost impossible to quash when I take in the puffy state of her eyes and the way they are rimmed in red.

My anger and frustration are barely contained, but I know if I lash out in any way it will begin to seal the end to her patience with me. Besides, she’s not the one I’m mad at, the anger is at the situation we find ourselves in, the threat of war, the constant pull that I need to be somewhere else. On top of that, she consistently bears the threats and sneers that find their way to her because of my last name and the mark on my left arm.

I lead her back to my room, and the walk is filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence. As we enter, I can feel her reluctance almost like it has become a separate being standing between us. Every part of me wants to kill her trepidation and reassure her in every way I possibly can, but at the same time the logical side of me knows this won’t be the last time she’s left disappointed.

Walking into the room, I turn to her and take her face in my hands again and stroke her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I whisper as I clutch her face with a firm grip, trying to keep her with me in any way I can.

She gives me a small tug of her lips back, but there’s no warmth or happiness in the gesture. Every single line of her face is creased in a tightness I’ve never seen before, and my eyes scan hers trying to figure out how I can reverse the damage I’ve already caused.

She pulls out of my grasp, and I let her, my hands dropping defeatedly at my side. Wordlessly, I watch as she continues her normal routine when she stays with me. She takes off her leathers and heads to the bathing chamber to wash the day off and I’m left racking my brain again.

Although its only minutes, the time seems to drag on far too long as I sit here pacing and waiting for her to finish. The time does nothing to settle the unease that sinks its sharp claws through every soft emotion I have. The oppressive silence that has lingered keeping us from bridging the gap.

When she comes back in, she is clad only in one of my shirts, and my blood heats at the beautiful picture in front of me. I take my time letting my gaze fall up and down every curve, taking in every single line of her body and committing it to memory. I know the last thing on her mind is sex, but that doesn’t change the fact that seeing her like this turns me on every fucking time.

My own thoughts are broken as she slams herself down on the bed and falls back into the pillow. Without looking at me, she pulls the covers over herself and turns away from me. Despair fills my mind as I rush to shower and change so that she’s not alone for longer than need be. The minute I come back; I’m sliding in bed with her. Immediately turning her to face me or at least try to.

Even though I know she’s not sleeping, she doesn’t make it easy for me to see her face.

“Blaze, love. Turn around, please.” I murmur softly near her ear, trying to be as coaxing and patient as possible.

Eventually she gives in and turns to face me, seeing the additional tears that have fallen, it makes my heart crack even more. Instinctually, I move my hand to her face and gently wipe the salty tracks from her face, trying to erase every single one that has dropped from her mind.

“I’m so sorry, Love. Please forgive me.” I stop at a loss for how to convey everything I want to say. “I lost track of time with training with Sorrengail trying to get her better with defensive positions and then I had an emergency leadership meeting. The day just went to complete shit not long after dinner.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, almost as if she’s come to a decision in her mind. “It’s alright, I forgive you.” Short. Sweet. But, most definitely not to the point. I’m not naïve to know that there’s plenty she’s not saying.

My arm drapes over her waist and I pull her closer. “Are you sure? I know I’ve been an incredible ass and have probably broken every damn promise I’ve made in the last week, hell even longer than that. I can’t imagine it’s that easy to forgive.”

The watery smile that she gives me back breaks my heart. “No, it’s not. But I know that you have things weighing you down and the last thing I want to do is add to the burdens you carry.”

My eyes flash at her statement and I immediately pull her as close as I possibly can, tightening my hold. “Please tell me you don’t think you’re a burden. That’s the absolute last thing you are to me.”

“Aren’t I though? Just one more thing you must take care of in your overly packed day.” I lay my forehead on hers as I fight back the emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.

“No, Love. You are the only thing that I want to take care of in my day. It breaks me to know that you see yourself as anything less than a gift.” She closes her eyes and by the way I feel her body soften ever so slightly, the weight on my chest seems to lift faintly.

“No matter how busy my day gets, how many times you think someone else has my priority, I need you to remember that you – YOU – are the only true priority in my life.” My eyes and tone grow as serious as I can possibly make them, trying to convey how much truth there is to the statement.

Without responding, she leans in and kisses me. My heart soars at the possibility that she understands how vital she is to me. The kiss is all consuming and every thought flies from my head. The stress and the strain of the day completely melting away into just the feeling of her, here in my bed, wrapped in my arms and my lips attached firmly to hers.

I pull my hand to the nape of her neck and tangle my fingers in her hair deepening the kiss, trying to pour every ounce of apology and love that I can into it. Every single nerve in my body alights with a fire that only burns with Y/N’s touch.

Allowing the kiss to turn slow and gentle, I move my forehead back to hers. “Let’s get some sleep. It’s late and I want to spend the morning slowly with you.”

“Tomorrow. Always tomorrow.” The small tight smile she gives me settles me slightly as I watch her close her eyes and begin to drift to sleep.

“I love you.” I whisper against her skin before kissing her forehead and tucking her in closely to me. With hope that tomorrow I would be able to prioritize the beautiful girl in front of me, I drift off to sleep holding her firmly to my side.

__________________________

As if in answer to my pleas, every god in the pantheon has conspired against me from that day. First it was watching her face fall as she saw the arsenal of daggers, I had made for Sorrengail, but I couldn’t tell her they were really at the behest of Sorrengail’s not-so-dead brother.

Then it was the saddle at war games. I watched as her eyes lost their light and she hid behind Dhioch’s leg until everyone mounted. Not once did I see her or Dhioch on the field the entire time, a knot of worry coiled in my chest, especially when I learned of the injured from the wing. And after the insanity of the day, I didn’t even get a chance to find her when I found myself in the infirmary looking after Liam. All of us rattled after his injury.

Next, days spent in the common room all of us studying for one of the thousands of different battle strategies that we needed to learn for our last third year exam. At first, she would join us in our studies and then as the weeks went on, she just avoided commons completely. The room losing the warmth with the continual loss of her.

I would see her in class and pull her to me every time, making sure to sit next to her, to try and get her attention. Though as days wore on, it was impossible to miss the way she kept pushing everyone away. The sunshine of a smile rarely graced her face. A laugh from her lips nearly impossible to hear. And every single time I had to walk away from her and watch her face fall, all I wanted to do is say fuck all to duty and lock us both away together.

Unfortunately, my father instilled the unwavering need to always complete my duty, sacrificing anything and everything else. The duty to Tyrrendor and Aretia as her Duke, to help those in need, the people of our land, to my family, but there was one thing my father never schooled me on.

Love.

When my mother disappeared, my father dove into work and duty leaving the possibility of love behind. Every waking hour was spent in the service of Aretia and Tyrrendor, save for the exceptions he made to spend time with me. Though even in those times, it was mainly to remind me of everything that I needed to be ready to shoulder. The expectations in the life of a noble. Even in his tutelage, he never even alluded to the possibility of ever finding love.

Never once can I remember him telling me what or who I would need to be to love someone properly. Even when he decided that I was to be betrothed to one of the heirs of Poromiel.

Then after the apostasy and my father’s execution, the thought of love was such a foreign concept that I pushed it aside, exchanging it for only pleasure and detachment.

It wasn’t until those eyes filled with warmth and life found mine and the bright smile splashed across her face broke every wall as if they had never stood in the first place. She was my absolute opposite in every way, but there was always something about her that my soul could never deny.

As the year drew closer to the anniversary of the apostasy, my frigid demeanor did nothing to help our situation. Between Sorrengail’s persistent fishing for random things about me, the looming deadline of graduation, and the heaviness of the day, it was only a matter of time before the short leash I had on my temper erupted.

Regrettably, it was directed at the one person who I wanted to wrap myself around and disappear with for the remainder of the day.

“Are you going to be training with Sorrengail again tonight?” The soft whisper of her voice floated to my ears as she came up from behind me in the hall.

The frustrated growl that emanated from me started the small spark that turned into a raging wildfire between us.

“Of course not. I’d rather be doing anything but dealing with anything or anyone inside of this godsforsaken school today.” The tone of my voice was anything but pleasant and I wanted to recoil at the devastated look on her face, but the weight of the day proved too much.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Xaden.” The icy tone that she gave back to me did nothing to help with the anger burning in my chest. “Didn’t know I was included on your list of inconveniences.”

“Gods. Why do you have to make this about you? Don’t you think for once it doesn’t need to be about you wallowing in the hole of self-pity you’ve dug for yourself?” The accusation in my tone is uncalled for, along with my words, but I’m at my wits end and don’t care. No one has ever told me anything helpful comes through anger, but that doesn’t stop the rage coiling inside me. Even though she is more than justified and I’m not.

‘If you keep pushing the Devoted One, you may find yourself regretting your words.’ Sgaeyl tries to knock some sense into me, but I can’t help the fire that seems to burn through every thought.

“If that’s how you feel then I will gladly take my wallowing elsewhere Xaden.” Her defiant tone makes my nostrils flare as she turns and begins to walk away from me, but not before calling over her shoulder. “In fact, you can just forget about me all together. Be well, wingleader.”

The voice at the back of my head is screaming at me that I’m an idiot and I need to immediately go after her and apologize. However, the anger and despair that has made a home in my chest over the last few days at the anniversary of my father’s death causes me walk away in the other direction.

When the day of the apostasy arrives, I haven’t seen the only sunlight in my life outside of classes. Every single time I try to get her attention, just to get her to look at me, she exquisitely avoids every attempt. Slipping through my fingers at every turn, even though I’ve been searching for her.

‘You can only brood about one thing at a time.’ Sgaeyl tries to tease through our bond, knowing that my mind is split in two directions.

As I sit on the parapet staring at the star speckled sky and the moon that illuminates charred corners of my soul, the replay of my last conversation with my Blaze sits heavily on my mind. The words said to her in anger reflecting the same way I spoke to my father the last time I saw him. If there is anything in this world that I don’t want, it is for her to leave me as abruptly as my father did. Especially not to words only spoken out of fear and anger.

‘Seems you have other problems to deal with first.’ Sgaeyl purrs through my mind, a small hint of amusement in her tone.

My brows furrow until I turn to the right and see a sight I never thought I would. Violet fucking Sorrengail is walking out on the parapet in a dress, aimed straight for me.

“Go back. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Sorrengail?” I toss at her but am unsure if my voice has carried over the wind.

I eat up the steps between us quickly to make sure that I don’t end up dying from the utter stupidity of this woman. She may be smart, but she lacks common fucking sense.

“Coming to check on the brooding Wingleader. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you and L/N have been distant of late.” Violet states as if she has been observing my personal relationship with a scrutiny well beyond passing interest.

“The state of my relationship isn’t any of your concern. I’m only involved with you because of our mated dragons, nothing more, nothing less.” I can only hope that the firm tone in my voice will stop her incessant questions, because all they are doing is putting me more on edge about losing the girl that has seemed to disappear from this damned school.

“Come now Xaden, you can’t expect me to believe that you don’t harbor any feelings for me. An arsenal of weapons, a saddle, one on one training, I’m pretty sure you’ve spent more time with me this year than the girl you claim as yours.” The words hit home in a way that makes my heart crack open wide, a sharp dagger straight to the center of my heart. It isn’t because she’s wrong, no, it’s because every single thing she just said is absolutely right.

Taking a moment to look to the sky, the stars seem to mock me as they sparkle brightly in stark opposition to my entire life. I take a deep breath to center myself and my mind clicks. There is only one place that I’m going, one place I really want to be, and I need Violet to get her ass back to the citadel to do it.

“Look, you can think whatever you want, but there is a girl in that citadel I need to see, and it isn’t you. So, you need to get yourself back on solid ground.” I firmly grip her shoulders and turn her, beginning to march her back towards the opening.

She stutter steps and brings us both to a halt, irritating me further. “You can’t honestly tell me that I mean nothing to you.”

“Violet, I would be lying if I said I haven’t come to care about you. But you are a friend, at most.” The irritation in my voice is clear, though I mean the words I say. “However, there is a girl in there that I’m in love with, and I need to remind her right now, so get moving.”

I don’t miss the irritated huff leaving Violet’s mouth, but luckily for me she begins moving again. The last thing I want to do is have to sit here and explain to her why I would never choose her first. The minute we step down from the parapet, I’m about to begin a sprint to get to the girl that I’m wishing was with me when the blast of an alarm blares into the night.

Fuck.

Every thought leaves my mind as I begin racing to my room instead of towards the girl I’m desperate to see. Meeting Garrick in the hall, he informs me of what he knows as I head to my room to begin strapping the other weapons I left behind to my back and empty sheathes. Conferring about the squad, he leaves with his orders to gather those that are important and give them their orders.

Once I enter my room, I stop dead in my tracks. There, on my desk, rests a plate with the largest piece of chocolate cake I’ve ever seen. As I examine it, I find the only other thing left there is a fork. No note. No indication of where it comes from, but there is no need. There is only one other person that can cross my wards, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Even with our fight and my uncalled-for anger, she still is there to make sure I’m taken care of. A talent of hers that I know I don’t deserve.

Making sure I don’t feel forgotten.

Finally walking onto the dais with the cadre of Basgiath, I let my gaze wander over fourth wing and search for the one person that I need. Locking eyes on her, it is impossible to get her attention. She stands there at attention, silent with a stare that is unmoving in front of her. Her squad moves around her, conversations carrying between them, but the look in her eyes is the most vacant I’ve ever seen. She may have made sure I wasn’t alone today, but that doesn’t mean that she hasn’t felt alone and forgotten. My chest tightens when I realize that I may have irrevocably torn up and threw away the only thing in my life that matters, all while having to deal with fucking war games.

After orders are given, I prowl off the dais and Garrick meets me. “I told the others everything. Imogen was directed to let Y/N know she’s with us.”

“The other issue is going to be Sorrengail.” I relay as we begin marching back to our rooms to pack for war games. “I don’t want to take her, but I’m unsure if Tairn will be willing to leave Sgaeyl.”

‘I think you already know the answer to that.’ Sgaeyl huffs, confirming my suspicions.

“Y/N will understand Xaden. She’s always been the one to understand everything you have going on, that she knows about at least.” Garrick tries to placate me, but the look he gives me means even he knows that the tether between Y/N and I is too thin. It isn’t the first time that I’ve wondered if I’ve made the right call leaving Y/N out of the loop regarding the aid we’ve been rendering and the true threats we face.

I close my eyes and blow out a frustrated sigh. “I’m hoping that she can give me this before she just walks away.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. “I never thought this year would be so complicated. And now, we’re about to graduate and most likely won’t even be at the same duty station.”

“I know you, Xaden. If you love her like I think you do, you’ll find a way. You just have to trust that what you’ve built can withstand the storm.” Garrick claps me on the shoulder and squeezes, a silent gesture that he’ll be there no matter what.

I give him a quick nod in acknowledgement and then trudge into my room to finish packing for whatever insanity the cadre has prepared for us this time. Without time to enjoy it, I wrap the cake and add it to my pack hoping that I can share it with my Blaze once everything gets settled. A few minutes later, I’m heading to the flight field and the anxiety swirling in the air has become oppressive, a blanket of unease woven tightly over every single cadet and dragon in the field.

“Something seems different than past war games.” Bodhi muses as he comes up on my left. Chancing a look at him, I can see he is just as tightly wound as I am.

“Considering our directive is to Athebyne, I don’t have any warm and fuzzy feelings about what’s going to be waiting for us.” I confirm to Bodhi as Garrick comes up on the other side.

I motion for Garrick to follow me, and he comes without question. As I’m scanning the flight field, it’s impossible not to notice that Dhioch is the last dragon in the line of riders. Brows furrowing, I don’t let myself focus on it too much, as this isn’t the time for me to have the conversation I want to have.

As we stride toward my Blaze, I see it again, the way the fight drained from her eyes leaving behind an almost vacant look. Anxiety claws its way back into my heart the closer I get to her. She’s looking directly at me, but it feels as if she’s looking through me, registering absolutely nothing.

“I assume Imogen told you that you’re coming with us.” The words leave my mouth, and my tone is nothing but business, belying the fact that I want to be anything but just business with her.

“Yes.” One word. The only thing she gives me. One single word. No emotion, no fight, just stated plainly. The claws in my chest squeeze and I can feel myself walking the knife’s edge, my control hanging on by the barest of threads.

I look over at Garrick and I can see the worry in his eyes causing me to swallow thickly, my stomach dropping. Garrick gives her an understanding look and turns heading back to our group. I can’t help but stand as an immovable statue, everything in me wants to crack, to take her in my arms and remind her how special she is, how much I need her to know that she’s important, but I give her a curt nod and turn away.

Every single nerve in my body is alight with unease. My steps back towards the rest of the group are sure, but inside the tempest raging is testing my control. From my peripherals I can see shadows begin to writhe in agitation, responding to the pulsing of power and apprehension that’s coursing through my veins.

Another question floats through my mind. Why is she so far away from everyone? Dhioch may not be as large as Sgaeyl, but she’s one of the most powerful in our year, size only slightly smaller than Chradh. My questions and worry must be loud enough to discomfort Sgaeyl, because she lowers her head and gives me a look that tells me she knows more than I do.

As I finally reach Garrick, he’s gathered with Bodhi and Liam probably going over the plans once we get to Athebyne. Until I get close enough to hear their conversation.

“I think it’s more than just feeling inconsequential. I’ve never seen her pull into such a shell of herself.” Bodhi’s words float to my ears as his back is turned to me. My stomach turns to lead and as soon as I reach the group, all our gazes look back and fall to the girl who was only ever a glowing ray of light in a life of unnatural grey.

As if pulled by our gazes, I watch as her eyes meet ours though nothing passes through her gaze. Staring at those eyes that have been my undoing, I set my resolve that as soon as we are out of the confines of Basgiath, I’m going to tell her everything. I’m exhausted from trying to hide everything and I refuse to let the last tether between us go.

My own plans for my Blaze solidified, I call out for the squad and mount Sgaeyl. “Headquarters squad, let’s go.”

Taking to the skies only quickens the pace of my heart. Though it’s impossible to sift through the anxiety that eats at me for the entirety of the six and a half hours it takes to reach the lake outside of Athebyne. I’m sitting on tenterhooks by the time Sgaeyl begins her descent to the lake. It’s only sharpened when I realize that Dhioch never seemed to catch up to the riot completely, for some reason they had launched significantly later than the rest of the squad.

Dismounting I can’t help but scan the skies looking for any trace of Dhioch’s scales. Scanning the area quickly, since I’ve been here more than a few times for drops. ‘The Devoted One is about ten minutes behind us.’ Sgaeyl confirms and it makes my heart race faster.

‘Why did they launch so much later? And why are they flying slower than usual?’ I can’t keep the questions in when Sgaeyl confirms that they are so far behind from where I’d prefer my Blaze to be.

‘You will have to speak to the Devoted One.’ Sgaeyl confirms as I walk towards Garrick.

“Where’s Y/N?” Garrick immediately asks as he makes his way towards where I stand.

“Sgaeyl says she and Dhioch are about ten minutes behind us. We should see them coming in to land soon.” I confirm, my voice even, but from what I can see my best friend is more than aware that I’m barely holding myself together.

“Are you finally going to tell her everything Xaden? At this point, I don’t think you are helping your cause.” Ever the practical one, Garrick knows what I need to do before even I do.

“Yes, I was hoping I would have just a few minutes with her here, but it isn’t looking like tha–.” My thoughts are cutoff.

‘A drift approaches.’ Sgaeyl’s voice splits into my thoughts and I’m moving.

Throwing shadows around Violet, I rush towards the rocks where she was speaking with Liam, other heavy footfalls following close behind. All thoughts abandon me as I try to figure out how I’m going to explain this to a Sorrengail of all people.

As I make my way towards the fliers, my eyes narrow when I see Syrena step forward. Placing myself ahead of Violet, I let the shadows fall and she steps up next to me. It’s more than obvious she’s ready to pounce on them as the enemy, but I’m not going to let it get that far.

“Why the fuck are you here Syrena?” The dark lilt of my voice shows my obvious distaste for their idiotic decisions.

The moment the words leave my mouth, I can hear Violet gasp. The sizzle of Violet’s power bites as it begins to pierce the air and I immediately turn to Liam, my eyes begging him to contain her. He steps up and wraps her up tight, but not before she decides to give the fliers a light show and call for her menace of a dragon.

“Fuck.” I mutter under my breath as I parse forward to figure out exactly why we’ve been graced with this unplanned visit.

“We’ve come to warn you.” Syrena confirms and I cock an eyebrow. The fliers may be many things but generously warning us of impending raids they plan to execute is usually not one of them.

“Warn us about what exactly? Are you intending on raiding another outpost? You know that we have a planned meeting for tomorrow.” I chance a glance back at Violet and see the shock on her face. I silently let out a huff. Good. Maybe now she’ll back the fuck off.

“Venin.” Syrena lets the word settle before continuing. “A horde is heading north after they decimated a village in the vicinity two days ago. It seems they are heading directly in the path of your outpost at Athebyne.”

“We’re armed and heading to Athebyne.” I confirm, before Syrena nods in acknowledgment.

“Signal if you can get away from those that still wear their rose-colored glasses.” Syrena says while flicking her gaze to Violet. Syrena turns on her heels and the fliers begin to walk back towards their mounts.

Taking a deep breath, the flash of copper in my peripherals brings my gaze up to see Y/N still seated on top of Dhioch as if she has been watching the entire ordeal. Her face looks impassive not a hint of surprise or anger on her face, but it’s the small seething girl in front of me that tears my focus away. Again.

‘Fucking. Traitor.’ Sorrengail’s thoughts are so loud, even without the bond and my signet, I’d be able to read them plainly on her face.

I can see the pain on Liam’s face at the words that she’s beginning to hurl at him. Accusation after accusation, as if she isn’t completely in the dark of what is actually going on.

“Stop Sorrengail.” My words are a command, and she immediately whirls on me, fire burning in her eyes.

“Stop?” Her tone goes low, showing her shallow control. “What exactly am I supposed to stop? You are all fucking traitors and –.”

I don’t let her finish.

“That is what you think, but you have absolutely no idea what is going on outside of the protective wards you’ve grown up in.” It’s obvious the way my words hit home as I watch her begin to squirm, her anger however hasn’t been tamed if the electricity in the air is anything to go by.

“Everything the fliers just said is true. The venin are real and they are threatening everything outside of our borders. They’ve been spreading like an infestation since before my father tried to expose Navarre’s lies.” Pausing, I give her a moment to absorb everything she’s just learned. I keep my mind open, trying to make sure she doesn’t decide to wield and measure her willingness to believe everything I’m saying is true.

I watch as her gaze goes in and out of focus, obviously confirming everything with Tairn. As she begins to work through her fury, her stance begins to soften slightly, and I know it’s to the unfortunate realization that this is the truth.

I don’t stop my explanation. I tell her about the weapons and give her one of the alloyed daggers I have strapped to my thigh, watching as she takes it in her fingers and feels the power thrumming through it. My mind is so focused on the volatile lightning wielder before me, all other thoughts have completely left me.

“You expect me to believe that the cadre of Navarre know all about the venin and refuse to do anything about it.” Violet snipes clearly reticent about the reality that this has been hid from her.

“Yes.” There’s no reason to elaborate, no reason to try and convince her, because if what the fliers said was true, she’s not only learning they’re real, but also, going to be seeing them ourselves.

“If what the fliers say is accurate, I don’t need to convince you. We’ll all be able to see it with our own eyes.”

With that I turn and head towards Sgaeyl, my thoughts in and out of focus between everything that’s happened in the last hour.

“Let’s go.” I call out as I mount Sgaeyl, and we launch headed direct for the outpost.

‘How much did Y/N hear or see?’ I question Sgaeyl, because again she’s too far for me to even gauge an ounce of what she is thinking.

‘Dhioch isn’t speaking with me.’ My heart jumps into my throat at Sgaeyl’s response. ‘However, she was in range the minute I confirmed there was a drift.’

Looking back, I cannot even see the gleam of Dhioch’s copper color and fear again grips me at the thought that I’m going to lose her. I’m fighting for a cause that at every turn seems to do nothing but tear away every single ounce of happiness I’ve ever found, and yet I know I can’t stop.

I found a woman that was more forgiving than anyone had the right to be, constantly assuaging the doubts I had over the time I didn’t get to spend with her. A woman who accepted every dark part of me, helped put every broken piece back together.

Then the additional challenges of General Sorrengail and Brennan’s requests this past year have torn every ounce of grace that my Blaze had ever given me to sunders. Every shard of trust and love built between us torn down for people that would love to see me dead, for a favor I was forced to keep in order to save the lives of children that didn’t deserve their cruelty. A choice that I made because it was the only option left.

My mind spinning, I don’t notice the absolute silence that greets my ears from the fortress as we descend. It isn’t until Sgaeyl lands that I realize we are truly alone at one of the most strategic outposts possible.

Dismounting, I take a quick count, again realizing that we are still short one rider.

‘Tell me the minute they land.’ I know better than to order around Sgaeyl, but I’m more than sure she can feel every single emotion I have that is running wild.

Walking into the outpost the eerie silence spills over every single nook and cranny. I let shadows spill out, crawling and swirling into every crack and crevice trying to find any sign of life, but they come up blank. Every single brick, every crack in the wooden beams scream of nothing but silence and stillness. The largest enemy to any army.

The wind suddenly whips through the open gate, and I look left to right taking in the leery gazes of those around me. Anxiety written plainly on every single face.

‘Dhioch just landed.’ Sgaeyl slithers swiftly into my mind, but I don’t let my focus waver.

“Divide and search. From what I can tell, the outpost is deserted.” I turn looking to the group, my focus hardening to the reality we are about to face. “Report back anything you find.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see Y/N come into view, but before I can so much as step towards her, she mounts the staircase to her right. Taking a deep breath, I direct Liam and Violet to follow me to the open-air observation point.

Climbing the stairs has my lungs and legs burning, the exertion helping my trepidation to cool slightly, narrowing my focus. Stepping foot onto the observation point, we have more than a clear view of the town of Resson just outside of Navarrian borders. A small, sleeping village that is about to be the scene of a gruesome enemy.

“There’s no way they would empty a strategic outpost just for war games.” Violet mumbles next to me and I huff a breath at her insistence to believe that the cadre aren’t just as nefarious in their ways to eliminate those they deem as any kind of threat.

“Liam, tell me what you can see.” I ignore Violet and get to the entire point of slogging up this tower, though a thought pricks at my mind, and I turn to her.

“When was the last time your precious best friend touched your face?” My question obviously catches her off-guard and she turns to me.

“What?” She stammers.

“Dain. When did he last touch your face?” I ask bluntly, my patience wearing thin. “Did he touch you after I told you about Athebyne?”

The reality of everything begins crashing into me as a booming voice calls out. “We found the directive.”

Garrick and Imogen kick up their pace and, in an instant, he’s handing me a missive scrawled with my name.

“That’s Colonel Aetos’ handwriting.” Violet confirms as Garrick takes a step back. I tear the seal and the panic that seizes me is immense.

“This isn’t a war game. This is war and we’ve been handed our sentence.” My voice is even, though panic and fury are coursing through my veins.

Garrick takes the missive from my hands and begins to read the words himself. His muttered curse is telling to everyone around us and then he reads the words aloud giving voice to the anxiety crawling up my spine.

“We either abandon Resson or abandon command of fourth wing.” He states, looking up directly at me.

“No, not we. Me. This is a test meant for me.” Letting the resignation course through me, the weight of my decisions pressing in on every side, I’m brought out of my thoughts as an explosion booms and Liam gasps.

“Those were the gates of the village, and the fliers were right. There are four venin headed into the town now. There’s one that seems to be leading, creepy red veins and eyes that could steal your soul, with a large staff.” The minute he finishes speaking, everyone flies to the wall of the turret and strains to look at the enemy looming down on the town.

“There’s nothing to see down there.” Bodhi complains while leaning over the wall, far too far for comfort.

Liam pulls him back to the ground before replying. “Yes, there is and they’re coming for Resson.”

“They are. You should all take your riot and fly as fast as you can out of here.” Syrena says as she comes up next to the group. “We can see that your cadre already evacuated the outpost.”

“You don’t want us to fight?” Garrick asks, surprise on his face.

“No, you’re not ready. How many of you have even seen combat, let alone battle venin. Two is more than enough to decimate everything and everyone down there. Four of them will leave nothing and no one behind.” Syrena’s face hardens as she continues to explain the truth of the situation we find ourselves in. “Take your riot and get out of here as fast as you can.”

Before I can form words, she’s heading back down the turret and back towards her drift. I close my eyes, letting my options settle in my mind.

‘I am with you. We will not leave those who cannot defend themselves. I have never turned from a fight, and I will not start today.’ Sgaeyl confirms, solidifying the decision I’d already made.

Turning back to everyone, I look at each of them and can’t help the way my chest clenches at the thought of putting them all in danger. As much as I want to keep each and every one of these people safe, I know that is not the world we were born to.

"I refuse to leave those who cannot defend themselves. Though I won’t command any of you to join me. I’ve already made decisions for you by forcing you to join the quadrant and fight for your life there. I will not take your decision away from you now.” My words are firm as I continue to parse over our group, more than aware we are still missing one person.

‘The Devoted One is with you as well. Her and Dhioch are going to sweep the perimeter once we launch.’ Sgaeyl confirms as I continue to wait for the decisions of those around me. The confirmation does nothing to calm my thoughts or emotions, putting her in harm’s way is the last thing I want to do.

Garrick is then the first to move, his hand clasped hard on my shoulder. “In it till the end, remember? I’m not changing my mind now.” His hand squeezes hard on my shoulder and I can see the determination shining in his eyes.

“We’ve been the defenseless ones. You shouldered that responsibility for us, cousin, now it is time to repay you and those who cannot defend themselves.” Bodhi responds as he comes up to flank my left side.

Liam and Imogen follow suit. It isn’t long before Eya, Cirian, Masen, and Soleil also join, until the last person standing in front of me is Sorrengail.

“I know what it’s like to be vulnerable. Now I have the power to fight, and I will not waste it.” Violet states and I nod my head in acknowledgement.

As Violet goes on to recount details of the venin from her memories of the book of fables, Liam gives a detailed report of the venin whereabouts, and I analyze the skills we have at our fingertips with those present. A tiny voice at the back of my mind whispers that someone with more battle experience, more strategic knowledge should be making these calls, but I squash it as soon as it rises because there is no time to doubt.

Soon enough, directives have been delivered, and each rider is descending the staircase heading to their respective dragons. My mind wants to spiral, but I lock down every single thing that isn’t related to the battle we’re facing.

I cannot let my focus be stolen.

“What about Y/N?” Bodhi asks as he begins to walk towards Cuir.

I give him a tight sad smile before replying. “She’s with us. Just like we always thought she would be.”

The smile he returns is rueful, with just a hint of mischief. “I always told you she was special Xaden. Now you just have to survive so you can grovel.”

I roll my eyes at him before running up Sgaeyl’s leg and mounting. Searching for copper scales, I’m disappointed to find them already floating above us. The minute before we launch a screech I’ve never heard before tears through the air and all heads turn to see a grey form in the distance.

“That’s a wyvern! There are two legs, not four.” Violet calls out and everyone’s gaze tears back to the sky and we all watch as blue fire spits from its mouth.

“Now that we are all aware of the variables, anyone want to fly for Eltuval?” I ask over the rising panic from the village. Looking to the left and right no one confirms they want to change their minds. “Then get as many people to safety as you can and remember only use the alloyed blade to fight the venin.”

Without hesitating the sky begins to rush up as Sgaeyl launches and races to get a higher vantage. The city below us is burning, smoke and ash billowing in the skies. Plumes of smoke in colors I’ve never seen swirl with a ferocity of magic. The smell holding a foul odor unlike dragon fire.

Civilians scream as they try to find cover, running left and right looking for anything sturdy enough to hide in. Chaos is a living breathing thing as we all descend trying to find the best location to get everyone to safety.

Devastation already rules throughout the town, bodies of the fallen strewn about, mothers crying over their children holding their limp bodies with desperation, and children slumped over their mothers’ lifeless forms. Nothing we experience at Basgiath could possibly prepare you for the scene that has begun to unfold.

‘Soleil and Laim are on the ground evacuating townspeople to a mine.’ Sgaeyl confirms as we fly directly into the path of an oncoming wyvern. The gleaming teeth barred in our direction dripping with scarlet blood only adding to the menace of the beast. Sgaeyl banks quickly and in the blink of an eye tears through the neck of the grey beast, blood now dripping down her maw in the same menacing way.

‘Good, let’s get to the edge of town and clear what we can. It seems there is something they are looking for near the clock tower.’ My voice is firm, and my focus locked on getting as many innocent people to safety as we can.

Heading to the outskirts of the town, the flash of Dhioch’s scales fly underneath Sgaeyl and my breath catches when I realize there’s no rider.

‘Stop your worry. The Devoted One is evacuating a child that was separated from their parents.’ Sgaeyl calls as we continue our course to the edge of town. I take a deep breath, letting the knowledge calm my unease.

Stones topple and crumble as we make it to the walls of the village, looking down, I see a venin heading straight for a group of civilians. Robes billowing as they stride with a manic gleam in their terrifying scarlet eyes. Rolling from Sgaeyl’s back, I land in front of the frightened group and grab an alloyed dagger strapped at my hip.

“Ah, a rider, always so reckless. Always trying to play the hero.” The rasp of a voice grates on my ears, nails to the chalkboard of my mind. I let the shadows coil around my feet, threatening and taunting, coiling them towards the venin as he stands there as if analyzing my power.

Before I can register, the sound of rock crumbling has gaze focusing on the people behind me. “Let’s see if those shadows can save them.” The venin taunts as he hurtles a large stone towards a group of children.

Raising my hands, shadows lash out and drag the rock backwards hurtling it back into the wall.

“Shadows.” He sneers in contemplation. “My sage will be so proud once you join the fold.” My eyes flash at his words.

“I can guarantee I will die before I join your ranks.” I spit back and hoist the blade in my hand to strike. My focus is broken again when two roars sound simultaneously.

‘Xaden! Deigh is dying! Liam needs you!’ Violet’s voice pierces through my mind and my focus turns. My grip tightens but turning back to my target, find him gone. Rounding on the civilians, I alert them to where the rest of their townsfolk are hunkering down and call for Sgaeyl.

‘Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me we can save Deigh and Liam.’ The pause that follows tells me everything I need to know as we fly as fast as we can to where I can see Tairn hovering over two small forms.

All at once the weight of everything I’m losing begins crashing down around me. The cost of battle. The cost of my own decisions.

Liam.

The best of us. The one who always brought sunshine and smiles. The one person who always knew when to push my buttons. The person who brought me back from the brink. The one who always saw through my facades. The closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. Loyal to a fault. Wood shavings following him everywhere. Laughter and warmth emanating from every pore. He’s dying and there is nothing I can do to fix it.

“Liam.” His name feels like lead in my mouth as I crash down next to Violet. Looking up at her, tears flowing down her cheeks, it takes every ounce of control still within me not to break apart.

“Take me to Deigh.” Liam whispers and brings my focus back down to him.

“Of course, Brother.” The words almost lodge in my throat, but I choke them out as I get to my feet and lift him in my arms. The weight of him dragging me down as the truth of the moment begins to pull at every ounce of my shattered heart.

“It shouldn’t be you.” The words rend from me in a whisper. I just can’t control the anguish that is rushing through me in a torrent of uncontrollable emotion. “It should’ve never been you.”

“I made my choice, brother.” Liam chokes out as he brings his eyes to mine, laying him down next to the broken body of Deigh. The injustice at the situation flies like fury through my mind, he’s here, whole and unharmed, and yet we are losing him. Losing the sunshine to my clouds of our found family. I try to drag my mind from the pain of our reality, but I’m lost to the oblivion of grief.

It’s Liam’s soft words that brings my focus back. “I want you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” My response so quiet I can barely hear it in my own ears.

“Promise me you’ll find happiness with Y/N.” Liam whispers as his breathing begins to slow. “You deserve to be happy Xaden, and everyone knows that she’s it for you. And take care of Violet and Sloane too. They all need you, Xaden.”

The tears snake down my cheeks unbidden now. I can’t hold the emotion in any longer. Liam never questioned his loyalty to me, never once doubted my orders, and is dying because of my decisions. Yet his concern isn’t for himself. It’s for everyone around him and their chances at happiness.

“I promise I will try my hardest to find that happiness, but it won’t be the same without you.” It’s impossible to keep the tide of tears away. Another person that means the world to me being ripped away. Another burden of grief falling into the chasm that won’t seem to fill.

“You are the best of us, brother and you deserve so much more than this.” The words are choked from my throat as I squeeze Liam’s hand brining my forehead to his. A sad smile curls across his lips as a sharp screech tears through the air.

“I love you brother.” As soon as the words leave my lips, Liam’s head rolls to the side and his eyes slide shut. I let my head drop and a rough, unfiltered scream rips through my lungs. Every single ounce of anguish, fear, sorrow, and hatred rolled up into a sound that breaks even my own heart. Shadows tear from my body filling the field around us in a shock of darkness before I reign them in, the sounds of the battle coming back into focus.

They killed Liam. They will all die.

The feeling of vengeance coursing through me as I find myself back at Violet’s side. As soon as I arrive, we both look up to see two wyverns with venin on their backs. An entire horde of wyvern careening quickly towards those we are trying so desperately to save.

“Go.” I command as she stands, determination etched on every line of her face. “You’ll have to be the one to take the venin down. I’ll cover you for as long as I can.”

Before she can reply, I let the shadows absorb the valley and plant my feet. My mind racing at the losses we’ve faced already, and we haven’t even killed half of the venin here.

Violet’s emotions bleed through the bond as she focuses on revenge, the acrid tang coating every pore. Standing here concentrating on holding back the wyvern, I let her emotions roll through me. The taste of death for these creatures who have taken so much a sweet balm to the bitter taste of loss.

I watch those in battle around me, trying desperately to find a way to help them all. My focus is suddenly broken as I feel Violet’s shock and pain flare. Looking up, I can see her on Tairn’s back facing off with a female venin.

Splitting my power, I let the shadows cover Tairn’s back.

‘Use your advantage.’ I send to her, directing her to take the death blow. The minute I see the venin fall from Tairn’s back, I drop the shadows from them and let them melt back into covering the valley.

‘You have to drop the shadows. I have a plan.’ Violet sends through the bond as Tairn flies towards the remaining wyvern.

‘I can’t it’s the only thing keeping those fuckers out.’ I bite back, but there’s no mistaking the waver in my voice. Fire has begun to lick at my veins from the amount of power that I’m trying to maintain, but I won’t let myself falter.

I can’t.

‘If you have a single ounce of trust in me, you’ll drop them. Now!’ Violet shoots back and I’m faltering straining to keep my power in check, so I know this is happening one way or another.

The minute they drop, I’m sprinting. My body feels like lead between the emotions and exertions of the day, but I can’t stop. I won’t. There’s no room to falter, no space for hesitation. I only concentrate on pumping the air in and out of my lungs as I continue my run.

Sgaeyl is there waiting, and I mount faster than I ever have in my life as we fly towards Tairn and Violet. I know that I must keep her alive if I’m going to keep my promise to Liam. Keep the promise to myself.

‘I’ll kill one and you take the other. Once they are dead, the wyvern will fall.’ Violet’s voice slices through my focus and I don’t miss the way it’s laced with pain.

Trailing behind Tairn, I suddenly feel myself caught in a vortex that feels both foreign and familiar. Time seems to stand still as I watch in horror hoping that we aren’t about to meet an unfortunate end. A band seems to snap and the battle resumes, the crackle of white-hot energy zings around us and a bolt flies from the sky and strikes the venin in a direct hit.

My gaze is stolen from the scene as I watch another wyvern begin a direct path to Tairn, I let shadows fly forming a lasso around the venin and pull it towards me with all the force I can muster. The venin bears down on my hand, and directly onto the alloyed blade in my outstretched arm.

As soon as I look back towards Tairn, the world seems to stop and my heart leaps into my throat as Violet’s body falls from his back.

“Violet!” I scream and Sgaeyl uses every ounce of energy she has left to reach her falling body. Cutting through the sky, my hands grasping her pommel with every ounce of strength I have left, I can’t help but think that we aren’t going to make it. We aren’t close enough and Violet is falling too fast.

Before I can overthink it again, I watch as a flash of gold is suddenly in front of us, that same vortex coming and breaking again. Andarna’s appearance helps to stop Violet’s rapid descent until Sgaeyl is underneath her. Andarna rolls slightly and Violet falls into my arms, her unconscious form lulling against my chest.

‘Tell everyone to meet by the gates.’ I tell Sgaeyl as she begins her descent to the ground.

I dismount and take the time to look for the wound that caused Violet to fall. The breath leaves my lungs when I see there is a blade sticking out of her side. But it isn’t the blade that concerns me, it’s the blood flowing from the wound. As I pull my hand away, there is no mistaking that everything about this wound is wrong.

Her blood is black.

Fuck.

Footsteps rush to where we are, and I look up into battle scared faces and exhaustion. I try to take in everyone around me, but my mind is racing a thousand miles a minute trying to decide the best action to take. It’s once my gaze locks on Garrick that I make my decision.

“You need to take her to Riorson House. You need to get her to Brennan. Quickly.” I say to him, although its more of an order than a request.

“Are you really sure that’s the best idea?” Garrick questions, though his intentions may be good, I don’t have time for hesitation.

“It’s the only idea. We need a few days to regroup and make decisions. She wanted to fight, so now she gets to keep the secrets just like we do.” I say as I stand and lift Violet’s limp body.

Garrick doesn’t question anymore as he shoulders Violet’s body from me. In the blink of an eye both he and Chradh are gone and the rest of us are left to pick up the remaining pieces.

‘She better survive this, Wingleader.’ Tairn’s voice pours through my mind and there’s no hiding the menace behind the words.

The sound of wings beat, and I know that Tairn has taken flight in the direction of his injured rider. Tairn can be as angry as he wants and question all my choices, as long as she survives. Spinning on my heels, I’m met with Sgaeyl’s snout and her golden stare.

Brows furrowing, apprehension begins to curl in my chest at her continued stare. Something in her eyes causes the dread in my chest to spike again.

‘What?’ I send to her, though she doesn’t respond at first.

‘You should take care of your brother.’ The thought hits me in the chest as a fresh wave of grief tumbles over me. It’s that grief and reminder that causes my gaze to begin searching.

Scanning over every single face gathered around me, taking in every single wound, smear of blood, and eyes full of pain an exhaustion. However, my heart stops when I realize that one pair of eyes is missing. Turning I let myself glance over every dragon that stands behind Sgaeyl and my breath catches in my throat.

Dhioch stands staring at me. Her golden eyes are shining with anger, the blaze so hot I’m not sure how she hasn’t scorched me yet. Whipping back around, I nearly fall as I look over those gathered again. I don’t know how many times I look to each person before the reality begins filtering in, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.

“Y/N.” Her name leaves my lips in a whisper so low I’m not sure anyone even heard me. Without thinking, I let my shadows roam free, asking them to find her, to search every single inch of the village around us.

Seconds tick by, then minutes. I don’t know how long I let them search but by the time every inch of the village has been rummaged through several times over, my emotions are so high I’m uncertain as to how I’m standing. Tracing the devastation of the town, it barely compares yo the feeling growing in my own chest.

I can feel how pale my face has gone. Cold sweat beading at my forehead and running down my clothed back. My heart in my throat as they continue to roam, my heartrate beating a staccato in my chest, daring to break free the longer they search with no results.

“Xaden.” Bodhi steps next to me, concern lacing his features. “What’s going on?”

I turn and look at him, but my focus is so scattered, I feel like I’m looking through him.

“She’s gone.” The words leave my mouth in a choke, as if my mouth can barely string the words together. Any semblance left of my world shattering with the realization.

Bodhi glances around, his brows furrowing as he tries to untangle what exactly I’m trying to say. I watch as realization finally dawns on his face and his brows rise in shock.

“She’s gone?” He repeats, but as a question. I nod slightly as I turn back to look at Dhioch.

‘Is that what you were trying to tell me, Sgaeyl?’ The words flow through my mental bond so low, I’m unsure if I really thought them.

As soon as I finish the thought, Sgaeyl brings her snout to me and gives me a gentle nudge. That one movement causes the dam to break. The shadows that I had tight control on leave in the second torrent of the day and my eyes begin to fill with tears as I raise my face to the ashen sky.

Taking measured steps, I walk to the crumbling outer walls of the town. Holding the tears at bay proves the only thing I can control until I find myself sinking to my knees next to boulders that used to stand proud and firm in protection of the decimated village. As soon as my knees hit the dirt and jagged rocks, the flood finally breaks, uncontrollable sobs wracking my body.

Trembling, I can’t stop the emotions as they barrel through me. Failure is an anvil on my chest at my inability to save those who deserved to live, and the crushing realization that the woman I love is gone taking my breath.

Air. There’s absolutely no air.

Nothing I do will pull the breath back into my lungs. My soul is crushed from the weight of Soleil and Liam’s deaths, Violet being hurt, and now realizing that the one thing I was fighting for is gone.

‘You are stronger than this, Xaden. You cannot let them win. Falling here will not bring her back to you.’ Sgaeyl knows that pretty words won’t bring me back from the brink. Her voice is stern and unwavering, a solid command to bring me back to myself.

‘There isn’t any way for you to find her? What if she’s hurt? Does Dhioch know if she’s safe? She wasn’t taken, was she?’ The barrage of questions tumbles through my scattered mind trying to grasp and claw at any single piece of information, at any way that this isn’t real.

‘Dhioch won’t give me details, but she does confirm that she can no longer feel their bond.’ Sgaeyl’s voice carries an undercurrent of concern, and the information causes my mind to blank and finally focus.

As air begins to fill my lungs again, my mind sharpens the fog of grief lifting slightly. ‘What do you mean she can’t feel their bond? How can Dhioch know she’s alive if she can’t feel her.’

I refuse to bring voice to the one question that truly plagues my mind. If she can’t feel a bond than certainly, she has to be -.

NO.

I refuse.

I will not let this be the end.

I will not let myself even think of the possibility of that outcome.

The emptiness I felt just moments ago is now filled with rage. How can she be gone? How can her bond to her dragon be breached? What was she thinking?

At least the rage is a comfort, something familiar. I let the feeling wrap around me, steeling me from the turbulent emotions of grief and sorrow. I will not drown. I will find her and bring her back. I won’t stop until she’s by my side again.

Every single step back to the group shores my resolve. By the time I reach them, my usual stoic mask is back in place, and I refuse to let any of them see me break. If I break, it means I’ve failed, and I will not accept failure. Not in this.

“Let’s go. It’s time to take some time at home.” I tell the group and mount Sgaeyl without turning around.

The two hours of flight does nothing to calm the turbulence I’ve caged in my body. Trying to hold every single piece of myself in place proves to be more difficult than I expected. The shards of my heart threatening to break apart at any moment.

‘Will Dhioch tell you anything?’ My mind can only handle one thought. Where did she go and how do I find her?

‘Dhioch is not willing to talk now. I will try my best to get something, but I can’t promise you anything Xaden.’ My name. She never calls me that. At least not unless she’s trying to convince me not to falter. Her tone is also quieter than normal. All these things combined have my chest tightening.

‘Can you at least let Dhioch know that I’m sorry? Sorry for all the ways I’ve failed her rider. That I’ll do anything in my power to get her back.’

‘Of course you will.’ The feminine voice that slices through my mind is sharp and causes my head to swivel, looking directly into Dhioch’s eyes. No ounce of sympathy in the words, only command. ‘If you don’t, I will cut your life short. Your apology will be accepted when you find my rider.’

I don’t cower from the brown’s gaze, if anything I revel in the challenge. Fire and determination lick through my veins. I need someone besides just myself in Y/N’s corner, fighting for her and only her.

‘I promise you, Dhioch. I will return her to you. I will have her back in my arms again.’ The spark of defiance reverberating through my chest. I will utilize every single weapon in my arsenal, until I exhaust each and every one.

Soon enough familiar cliffs that line Aretia come into focus, the jagged edges reminding me of what’s left of my heart, and I let myself breathe. The first full breath I’ve had since the sirens rang out at Basgiath. Breathing through the pain and grief, the constant pull of darkness that wants to bring me down. People are depending on me and there’s a woman that I need to find, and I won’t be able to do that if I let myself drown.

As we descend, two figures come into sharp focus as we descend near the large wooden doors of Riorson House. I snort as the worried face of Garrick and the furious face of Brennan Sorrengail come into clear focus. Rolling my shoulders, I let myself prepare for the fight I know that I’m about to have with one of the most infuriating people on the Assembly.

Dropping from Sgaeyl, I stride with purpose straight for the blazing amber eyes that hold nothing but judgment.

“What the fuck were you thinking Riorson?” Ire building, I push past him refusing to answer.

As soon as I pass the threshold, I let the familiar smell wrap around me the comforting warmth of centuries old stone, worn rugs, and spices that flow from the kitchens. Every single breath begins to calm the storm that has been raging and tearing, whipping and breaking against every wall I had built. Without turning around I let my first words since leaving Resson spill from my mouth.

“Is Violet alright?” It takes every effort to keep my voice even, to not let Brennan know how much my inability to keep her safe is dragging at me.

Brennan walks up to my side and then turns in front of me, his eyes still blazing with fury. “I was able to stop the poison from spreading, but only time will tell if there are any aftereffects.”

“What were you thinking?” Brennan continues as he tries to stand tall and defiant against me.

“What was I thinking?” My patience hanging by a thread. “I was thinking we were sent to die, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. That this entire situation was planned by the cadre at Basgiath and left me no choice, not really.”

“That’s no reason to battle venin underprepared.” Brennan challenges.

“I did what I could. I made decisions that will haunt me for the rest of my life.” My voice continues to get louder as the thread on my self-control snaps. “My friend is dead because of my decision. My brother is dead because of my decision. The girl whose life is tethered to mine was poisoned because of my decision. And the woman I love is gone because of my decision.”

Fists clenched at my sides, the bite of my nails digging into my palms keeping me together. “You sit here behind the Assembly, in the safety of Riorson House and dare challenge me on my decision? I was given an impossible choice. I let every single person decide. Now I – as their commander – get to suffer the consequences of my actions. If you want to be angry, fine, but that leaves me only one thing to say.”

“Fuck. You.” With that I push past Brennan and stride straight to the one place in this fortress of a house that I can finally breathe.

Prowling up the battered stairs, each one worn smooth from the centuries of footsteps that traipsed them before me, I climb to the highest point. As soon as I reach the familiar opening, I step onto the crenellations of the roof and let the darkness of the night consume me.

A huff leaves my lips as I remember sitting in a similar spot only three days ago. Sitting on the parapet and trying to escape the emotions of the day. Now on the roof of Riorson House, I try to push past the emotions that loom over me.

How does someone pull themselves from the depth of grief? I can’t even save myself, how am I going to save everyone else? Is my life and happiness always going to be the cost of my duty?

Questions rolling through my mind, I don’t stop the tide. I let the grief trample my heart, the boulder crushing my chest. Let the regret steal my breath from my lungs. Let the anguish slide down my cheeks in torrents of tears. Let the desperation flow, my blood feeling like sludge in my veins. Let the resentment fill the fire in my eyes, the burn mixing with the tears.

I allow myself to feel everything, to drown in the tsunami of grief that’s left me empty. Even through the hollow emptiness, I promise myself that I will only rise stronger tomorrow.

Always tomorrow.

Always for her.

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