#my fav one so far! really tightened up the style | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

Text

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

��N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #prof!bucky #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #college professor au #enemies to lovers #bucky and alpine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

136 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Me and You Together, 1/? (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: i honestly have begun this wip with glitter and jesus. i have no idea how many chapters it’s going to have or what exactly the plot is going to be…all i know is that it’s fwb (flatmates with benefits) to lovers taywhora with a background love triangle involving Ellie bc she’s my fav. pls enjoy and pls leave me love because i am a keyworker so really one comment = one 6pm clap xo

P.S. the Friday mentioned in this fic is the one A’whora’s obsessed with and was dancing to on her insta…not the popular Rebecca Black song. also 100 points to anyone who knows the song Lawrence and Ellie get excited about in the club.

content note: they’re freshers at uni in the UK and this country has a binge drinking problem xo. please don’t expect any of these girls to be acting responsibly. if you think you might be influenced by a fic talking about alcohol, smoking, sex and drugs, this might not be for you luv xo

December- Fell in love with her in stages

A year ago if you had asked A’whora what she was doing on a Tuesday night, the answer would’ve been mundane.

Homework, maybe, if she could be bothered. She could always copy it from Mocha in registration, after all. Making tiny outfits for Barbie dolls out of fabric scraps, very probably; she hadn’t stopped doing that just because she was older, the only difference from when she was nine was that she didn’t make her Barbies talk anymore. Invariably she’d stay up til’ well past her bedtime, earphones plugged in to her laptop and trying not to sing along to the playlist of dance music she’d spent a year cultivating. She’d poked fun at her Mum for still giving her a bedtime at the big age of eighteen, but she’d maintained that while her girl was living under her roof it would be bed by eleven on a weeknight and out no later than three on a weekend.

These rules, however, were quickly disposed of as soon as she’d got the keys to her uni flat. As soon as she’d found out her other flatmates were just as riotous and chaotic as she was and loved a night out just as much, her weeks had been filled with nights she’d never forget in bars she couldn’t remember, heads against speakers and sore feet from heels and ridiculous pre-drinks with even more ridiculous cocktails.

One such cocktail is the one her flatmate’s making for her now. Ellie doesn’t have any of the professional equipment a usual bartender would, but that doesn’t seem to stop her- the messy countertops are a treasure trove of obscure liqueurs and alcopops, and Ellie twirls a yellow-blonde curl around her finger before giving a gasp of satisfaction as her hand settles on a sticky green bottle.

“One shot of apple soors, half a can of blue Monster, top up the rest with vodka,” she explains as she works with the various bottles and cans quickly, pouring into the pint glass they’d stolen from one of the pubs on a bar crawl during Freshers Week. She hands it to A’whora with a cheeky, mischievous grin on her painted face.

A’whora sniffs her glass and feels her nose wrinkle up involuntarily at the concoction her flatmate’s poured for her. “Els, if I drink that I’ll die.”

Ellie, to her credit, simply gives a snort of disapproval in response. Her pink acrylics click against the quarter bottle of vodka as she tightens the lid and replaces it in their freezer, all shiny and slick with frost. “Well if you are gonna take three hours to get ready then you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences of playing catch-up, babe.”

“Bitch,” A’whora jokes, rolling her eyes before sipping from her glass. The mixture makes her screw her face up so she takes another sip, then another until the weird sour-sweet-burn in her throat becomes more like a cocktail than cough syrup.

“Good, right?” Ellie prompts her, leaning against their kitchen counter proudly.

“No,” A’whora deadpans, causing her friend to burst out laughing. Then, realising something, she cocks her head. “Wait a second. What the fuck did you call the green drink?”

Ellie frowns. “Soors.”

“…Sourz?” A’whora says back to her, already giggling at the difference in dialects.

“Don’t play the pronunciation game with me, bitch.”

“Oh, I absolutely will when you’re just saying it wrong.”

“Lawrence!” Ellie shouts through to their other flatmate, sitting on the sofa and frowning at the bluetooth speaker as if it’s personally committed some crime against her. Ellie holds up the bottle as Lawrence snaps her head round, dark curls flying over her shoulder. “What’s this?”

“Liquidised heartburn,” she says instantly. A’whora snorts as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Fuck’s sake. What’s it called?”

“Soors,” Lawrence shrugs back at her, and Ellie gestures triumphantly at A’whora who can only pout in reply.

“Listen, I can get Tia, Bims and Tayce through here and they’d all outnumber you, so. Shut it.”

“Yeah bet you’d love to get Tayce through here, A’whora,” Ellie smirks, raising both her eyebrows at her in an infuriatingly smug expression.

A’whora is clamped for a couple of reasons, the first being the God-awful nickname all her flatmates use against her. She’d managed to acquire it the first time they’d all played Never Have I Ever together and A’whora had drank for pretty much every situation or scenario presented to her. Before she’d known it, her very lovely, very Disney Princess-esque first name had been replaced by a pun that Bimini had come up with in the midst of their third rum and coke, and thus Aurora was dead and A’whora was born.

The second reason for her silence is a result of the mention of one of the girls she’s living with. A’whora had never really expected to develop a crush on any of her flatmates, which had been a ridiculous thing to assume- given the fact she’s attracted to girls and was going to be living with other girls, the odds would dictate that at least one of them would be her type. Luckily, though, she hasn’t developed any feelings for any of them. At least, that’s the lie she’s telling herself, as the cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward.

Tayce is different to Ellie, Lawrence, Tia and Bimini, though. None of the others get A’whora so flustered when they speak to her, none of the other others get her heart racing so fast it threatens to fly out her ribcage. She doesn’t feel the same sense of dizzy joy when she’s alone with any of the others: only when Tayce makes dinner with her, or when she comes to her room at ten at night for chats, or when they play Tayce’s stupid video games together and she beats her way-too-many-consecutive-times in a row to be considered fair. A’whora has tried to explain it away as just wanting to be liked, just wanting to be good friends, just just just until she can’t justify her own excuses any more and has instead resigned herself to repressing the feelings she has for her friend. The tension between them is building, though, and it’s only a matter of time until something happens.

“BITCH!”

A’whora jumps a little, flinching as she realises she’s gone too long without a comeback. Ellie’s expression is expectant and impatient as she clicks her fingers once, twice, three times in her face.

“Shut up, Ellie-phant,” A’whora manages to mumble almost incoherently as she turns on her heel, walking through to the living room area to sit with Lawrence and join her on her quest to making their speakers work.

Their flat is an odd one. The front door leads to a prison cell-style line of equally pokey rooms- Lawrence’s, Tayce’s, A’whora’s, Bimini’s, Ellie’s and Tia’s respectively- and two bathrooms. Then another door opens out onto two hobs, endless cupboards and grimy, cluttered countertops, and a scrub of shitty green carpet and three worn out red-purple sofas that look as tired as Bimini does when they come home from a random afterparty just as A’whora leaves for lectures. It doesn’t in any way look like a normal flat, but A’whora supposes they’re about as far away from normal as a sentient slice of cheese.

“Oh babe, you must be crushing crushing. I don’t think I’ve heard you come out with a comeback as shit as that in the whole four months we’ve lived together,” Ellie continues the conversation, buzzing behind her like an annoying fly.

“It wasn’t shit, it was good!”

“Lawrie, what’s a good comeback to me calling A’whora a whore?” Ellie appeals to her friend again.

“Rich of you to be calling anyone a whore. You come from a long line of whores. You’re a whore, your maw’s a whore, your maw’s maw was a whore. There’s cave paintings of your ancestors wi’ twelve dicks in their mouths. There’s tapestries of them gettin’ shagged left, right an’ centre. There’s clay sculptures of them being whores. Pipe the fuck doon,” Lawrence reels off, Ellie growing more and more breathless with hysterical laughter beside her and A’whora falling into giggles too.

“Well this was a weird time for me to enter the conversation.”

A’whora feels her heart lift and her face light up when she turns around and sees Tayce walking through to join them, the posture of a model with her fingers curled elegantly around the stem of a wine glass. She flicks her long, dark hair over her shoulder as she sits down on the small sofa beside A’whora, and she wonders how Tayce can sit in a way that makes the stained, battered, scratchy upholstery seem like the set of a high fashion photoshoot.

“Just talking about you,” A’whora sticks her tongue out at her, laughing at the way Tayce reels in fake horror and Lawrence explodes with laughter across from them.

“The valour, the bravery and the backbone,” Tayce grumbles, rolling her eyes. Her gaze rests upon something behind A’whora- the back of the sofa. Maybe there’s a new rip in it, God knows how that can have happened. She holds back a gasp, though, when Tayce reaches out and runs a gentle finger down her spine against her bare skin; an advantage of the sparkly backless cowl neck top she’s wearing that she hadn’t known existed until now. “Speaking of backbones, you’re such a skinny minnie.”

“Did you go to the school of backhanded compliments?” A’whora teases, deflecting from the way her heart’s still thrumming in her chest at the contact.

“Shush, you. You know you look bloody gorgeous,” Tayce says back to her, and even though there’s a laugh to her voice A’whora knows she means it. Her heart’s still going like a train but she can chalk that up to the half can of Monster Ellie’s dumped into her drink, so when she mutters out a thanks hun, same to you she hopes it doesn’t sound as insincere as it feels.

The thing is, she does look gorgeous. She’s dressed in a black lace bodysuit with straps that criss-cross up the back and a tight leather skirt that makes her legs look even longer than they already are. She’s opted for heels like A’whora has (unlike Ellie and Lawrence who have designated night-out trainers stained with spillages of drinks gone by) but hers have straps that are laced all the way round her calves and tied with a knot at the top. Everything about her outfit makes everything about her look outrageously good, and A’whora thinks it should be illegal for anyone to be this ethereal.

Tayce looks as if she’s about to fire something back at her judging by the little smile on her face but she’s interrupted by an outrageously loud boom from the speakers, as something that could be Lady Gaga but is too deafening to be deciphered screams through it. As the girls all flinch there’s a frantic diminuendo that comes from Lawrence mashing the volume button until the pitch is finally bearable and they can all take their hands off their ears.

“Lawrence, did you get the speakers working?” Ellie quips sarcastically, to which Tayce and A’whora burst out laughing and Lawrence almost elbows Ellie off the sofa opposite.

In the melee A’whora almost doesn’t notice Bimini and Tia come in, and they look ready to start the night if a little panicked.

“What the hell was that?” Tia asks quickly, opening the fridge and grabbing her bottle of premixed Malibu and pineapple before perching herself on the couch beside Ellie. “I thought part of the building had exploded.”

“Nah that was just my vagina, babes,” Lawrence says offhandedly, the others either screeching with laughter or groaning in anguish. Bimini crosses the room with their selection of drinks cradled in their arms and budges Tayce and A’whora up with an oi, oi!, A'whora’s pulse thudding at her wrist as a result of her close proximity to her crush.

No- her friend. Her friend who’s never going to be anything more than that.

With the six flatmates assembled, drinks poured, and tunes on, their pre drinks can begin. Pres at their flat often look like drinking games, yelling along to early 2010s pop, tipsily booking taxis and then touching up their makeup in the waiting time before they arrive. Tonight is no different; they bicker about where they want to go and eventually decide on the union because although it’s “too het” according to Ellie, it’s admittedly cheap and a good night out. A’whora chips into the conversation every five minutes with shady, catty jokes that Tayce howls at and leans into her side and clutches her arm or her hand or her thigh.

The contact is nice. They’ve reached that stage of their friendship where they’re touchy and close a lot of the time- A’whora’s constantly playing with Tayce’s hair and Tayce thinks nothing of just walking into A’whora’s room and getting under the duvet with her. They throw their arms around each other and bump shoulders as they walk and touch legs on the sofa, much like they’re doing now. A’whora has never been a cuddly type of friend- to be honest, she still isn’t- but there’s something about doing all this with Tayce that she doesn’t mind. It’s a comfortable kind of intimacy, a knitted blanket of sorts, but it’s a fragile space for Tayce to occupy too and A’whora knows it’s risky to let her rip a wall down she’s never been aware of til now.

The night rolls along and with every refill of A’whora’s glass the music gets turned up a little more, a little more, a little more until they’re all having to yell over each other as they play wiggly wiggly woo, who’s most likely to. It’s all fun and games until it gets to who’s most likely to sleep with a flatmate, and there’s a confusing mess of finger-pointing where Lawrence points to Ellie, Tayce points to Lawrence, and Bimini, Ellie and Tia point to A’whora.

“Fuck off, why’s it me?” she screeches in outrage, trying to cover up the fact her cheeks are burning and that Tayce seems suddenly all too close to her.

“Because! It’s you! It’s A’whora!” Bimini laughs, their accent making them seem all the more mischievous and shit-stirring.

“Well! If I’m sleeping with a flatmate that must mean one of you’s gonna be involved, doesn’t it?!”

“Right, sorry, yeah,” Bimini nods understandingly, before immediately switching to point to Tayce. There’s an arena-crowd roar that erupts from the others, one that makes A’whora laugh and blush scarlet at the same time. She sneaks a look at Tayce, who’s regarding her with much the same expression.

“I’m down if you are, hun,” A’whora jokes-but-not-really, shaking Tayce’s arm as if it’ll take away from the weak joke she’s trying to make. Tayce only shoots her a wink with her tongue trapped between her teeth.

“In your dreams, love.”

A’whora’s glad of the others laughing so she can pretend to join in, occupy herself with something other than the overwhelming urge to reply to Tayce with exactly.

The rest of pres fly by tipsily and incoherently. They get a noise complaint from the weird flat underneath them which seems solely comprised of six boys who never go outside, which prompts them to book taxis even though the union is only about a ten minute walk away. A’whora helps Tia re-glue on her eyelashes in a rush and Bimini spontaneously fills a hipflask with Ellie’s apple sourz, “for the road”. When the taxis roll up outside Lawrence hurries them all out the door with the urgency of a mother of five, and before long they’re standing in a queue around the block, Bimini and A’whora sharing Tia’s huge puffer jacket because neither of them thought to pick up coats in their haste to leave.

Tayce pulls a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket, flips the little cardboard lid of them open and offers them round to the others. A’whora takes one because Tayce is offering, and really Tayce could offer them grenades with the pins pulled out and A’whora would accept if only to get her smile flashed at her again or the chance that their hands might touch during the transfer. A’whora thinks Tayce is every public health campaign’s worst nightmare as she watches her hold the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, wrap her lips around the end and inhale. Her cheekbones are razor-sharp as she drags then lets the breath go, red lipstick on the paper and the smoke curling up into the sparkly, dark night sky.

She is beautiful.

It’s because she’s beautiful that A’whora shouldn’t be surprised by the events that begin to unfold as they enter the club. Ellie immediately makes her way over to a booth, picks up the little sign that says it’s reserved and chucks it onto the dancefloor to get trampled underfoot and covered in sticky cocktail spillages. Tayce’s round is first because she lost Ring of Fire back at the flat so she goes over to the bar for shots, promising she’ll be only a couple of minutes and the others believing her; the way she looks ensures she never has a long wait time at the bar.

So they wait. And they wait. At first they don’t even notice how long they’ve waited- the tunes are good and loud and so they all yell along happily. Until Lawrence turns to the others with narrowed eyes.

“Here. Where the fuck is Tayce? She’s been ages.”

They all scan the bar, and Ellie suddenly points dramatically over to the other end of it. “Oh!”

Because Tayce is standing at the bar with no drinks and no interest in any of the bartenders taking drinks orders. She’s talking to a tall blonde with a dazzling smile and a low-cut crop top, and something inside A’whora burns and sinks at the same time. Tayce is allowed to be talking to a pretty girl. She’s not not allowed to. But it doesn’t make her any less jealous of the attention she’s giving her.

It’s a horror movie she can’t look away from. She’s aware that Ellie has gone to get the drinks instead, but that’s all she can absorb from her surroundings. She tunes out of the conversation at the table as she continues to watch the two of them interact. The girl’s got muscles, and her hair falls in neat waves on her shoulders, and she’s smiley and charming and doesn’t talk much, preferring instead to listen to Tayce. A’whora is different. A’whora is constantly on transmit; loud and opinionated and gobby and, okay, sometimes a little bit judgemental. She can’t do charming and demure. She can’t be what Tayce is very clearly interested in.

A thud next to her causes A’whora to whip her head round, tearing herself away from the scene playing out in front of her and ripping the plaster off.

“Fuck’s sake. Jaegerbombs with Red Bull? Puh-rison!” Ellie half-whines, half-shouts.

“Red Bull is the standard, not everyone can have the same taste in energy drinks as a sixteen year old virgin gamer,” A’whora narrows her eyes, gratefully accepting the drink from her nonetheless and shotting it back as if it’ll help blind her, or perhaps forget what she’s seeing.

“God. Who pissed in your coco pops?” Ellie fires back, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Bold of you to assume anything specific has happened to make her this bitter, mean and salty,” Tia jokes from A’whora’s side, and as the others scream and laugh A’whora in turn fixes her with a glare, wishing momentarily she had laser beams for pupils.

“Ooh, that’s made me want a tequila,” Lawrence cries enthusiastically, too loud even from the other side of the booth.

“Eh, excuse me! I just got you a Jaegerbomb, finish that first,” Ellie chastises her like a world-weary parent, pushing the glass towards her friend and sliding her hand over the table, sticky with the ghosts of questionable drinks’ past. A’whora has to snort at her tone.

“Yeah Lawrence, finish your Jaegerbomb or you won’t get any dessert. Listen to your responsible Mum whose eyelash is coming off.”

A big roar of laughter flies up from the others, and it’s Ellie’s turn to glare at A’whora this time. She looks as if she’s about to say something back when Bimini sniffs their glass and frowns.

“Is Jaegerbombs vegan?”

Everyone apparently wishes to ignore the lack of grammatical sense to their sentence, and it’s Lawrence who responds first. “They’re vegan in the same sense that bleach is vegan?”

Bewilderingly satisfied, Bimini raises their glass to the middle of the table and the girls join them, cheering as they all clink them together and chuck the drinks back. The fact A’whora can’t join in leaves her eyes to fall on Tayce and that girl again. Tayce is smiling and it’s the brightest thing in the club, laughing as the girl flips her hair and touches her hand and tells some joke that’s obviously not as funny as anything A’whora could say. She wonders if she’s ever made Tayce smile like that. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she can’t remember.

“You know they used to use Jaeger as cough medicine? And for ages it was drunk by, like…old Tories who went on deer hunts,” Tia reels off excitably, and A’whora can’t help but roll her eyes affectionately at her friend’s bizarre general knowledge. “There’s this rumour that it’s got deer’s blood in it.”

Bimini splutters, coughs, and chokes all at once. As Lawrence slaps their back entirely too roughly in a way that’s about as helpful as a water gun at a house fire, A’whora can’t help but turn to face Tia incredulously.

“What the fuck did you say that for?!”

Tia shrugs, too tipsy to register A’whora’s disbelief. “Fun fact.”

“You didn’t think to pipe up with that when Bims was asking if it was vegan?”

“It’s just a rumour!” Tia says defensively, then turns to Bimini to check they’re okay. A’whora huffs in exasperation, folding her arms and throwing her back against the supposedly cushioned walls of the booth. As she stares straight ahead and ignores the fuss her friends are making, her eyes fall on Tayce again and her heart hurts more than it should to see her with her phone out and the girl beside her doing the same. They’re so clearly swapping numbers. They’re allowed to swap numbers. It’s not like A’whora’s got dibs on Tayce, it’s not like she’s got any right to feel a burn in her stomach and a flame in her heart and a feeling of something slipping away.

“Right!” Lawrence all but yells, forcing A’whora to tear her eyes away. “I’ve finished my Jaegerbomb, Mum, can we get tequila now?”

Ellie sighs. “Fine! But you’re buying me this one, bitch.”

“I’ll come with,” A’whora says, thinking she’ll need at least ten more units of alcohol to stop feeling feelings.

“We’re going for a boogie, catch us up,” Bimini decides, as Rhythm is a Dancer blasts on the overhead speakers and Tia lets out a whooo! that’s way too white for a mixed-race girl.

So they move, A’whora bum-shuffling her way out of the booth and following Lawrence and Ellie, her feet sore in her heels. She purposefully blocks Tayce out of her peripheral vision as she leans against the bar, but she’s only separated from her by about six people also waiting and if she tilted her head forward she could definitely catch her eye if she wanted.

“Rhythm is a dancer, two for one at Asda,” Ellie sings along, bopping her head enthusiastically. A’whora laughs weakly, her proximity to Tayce and that bitch she’s talking to entirely too distracting.

“Shut your hole and tell me what you’re wanting,” Lawrence orders her. Ellie drums the palms of her hands against the bar as she semi-shouts sambucaaaaa, and A’whora asks for a vodka. She’s aware she’s mixing entirely too many spirits and her hangover tomorrow will be potentially life-threatening, but she doesn’t care.

“Tayce is still there. Should we shout her over and see what she wants?” Ellie suggests, craning her neck. A’whora firmly shakes her head.

“She’s wanting that baby Hulk she’s been talking to all night, apparently,” she all but spits, shocking herself at her venom. It’s clear she shocks the girls as well, and Lawrence turns around and simply raises her eyebrows at her.

“Men’s dress trousers in a hotel.”

A’whora can only blink. “What?”

Lawrence pauses for dramatic effect (or perhaps that’s just the Jaegerbomb making its alcohol content known). She points a finger at A’whora, then finishes whatever point she’s making. “Pressed.”

“Purrr!” Ellie laughs in agreement, grabbing A’whora’s shoulder and shaking it in an action that’s probably meant to be gentle but almost shakes her bone out of its socket. “Oh my God, that totally explains why you’ve been such a bitch all night.”

“This wee cow’s been a bitch her whole life,” Lawrence joins in. A’whora knows she’s got a proper face on by now, Dot Cotton licking piss off a nettle, but she can’t help it. She hates being wound up and she makes this perfectly clear to her friends via her furious silence.

“Nah, but tonight she’s a jealous bitch,” Ellie sticks her tongue out at her, and A’whora huffs.

“I’m not jealous!” she lies. “I’m just pissed off that she comes on a night out with us and she spends it talking to some random bitch she barely knows instead of her friends.”

“Wait. Oh my God, do you fancy Tayce?” Lawrence asks, a bull in a china shop on cocaine. Before A’whora can defend herself Ellie barks a laugh.

“Aw Lauzza, come on to fuck! Have you ever walked in when it’s been just the two of them? They’re so fucking flirty it’s disgusting.”

“DISGUSTEN!” Lawrence shouts, and it goes about ten percent of the way to drawing A’whora out of her mood.

“I don’t flirt with Tayce! I don’t fancy her either!” A’whora cries, exasperated. She realises too-late that her volume may have been too loud, but when she looks over at the topic of conversation again she’s both disappointed and relieved to see that she hasn’t registered a thing. “Anyway, you know you can’t shag your flatmate. It’s like the first rule of having flatmates. It would just make everything awkward.”

“That the only thing stopping you?” Lawrence looks at her pointedly.

“The bartender’s free,” A’whora glances just over Lawrence’s shoulder, and she turns around so fast it almost makes her feel dizzy. While Lawrence orders it leaves Ellie to turn to A’whora and pat her hand sympathetically.

“Why don’t you just go up to her?” she suggests. “I mean would it be so bad if you did just shag and get the pent-up tension released and then you can both just move on? I mean it’s not like you want to be her girlfriend or anything.”

A’whora presses her lips together and doesn’t reply. Her silence seems to communicate too much as Ellie’s mouth drops open a little and she fixes her with a pointed stare. “Oh, A’whora.”

“Look, I don’t know,” A’whora rushes to defend herself, her words spilling out over themselves in the way they sometimes do when she’s tipsy. “Like obviously she’s gorgeous but also, like…I do like her as a person as well, and I like being around her and just enjoying her company-”

Ellie splutters a giggle. “Enjoying her company, are you eighty years old in a care home?”

“I’m gonna slap you in a minute, shut up!” A’whora laughs incredulously. “But, like, I just…I don’t know if she likes me back like that, you know?

Ellie frowns. “I think, then, my advice would be…don’t shag her if you don’t think you can keep it to just that. ‘Cause obviously you don’t want to end up getting hurt.”

“Right, yeah,” A’whora replies, nodding.

If she’s honest, she’s disappointed. Obviously she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to sleep with Tayce- because fucking look at her- but just like Ellie said, she knows she would end up getting hurt if anything happened between them. Tayce would probably consider it a one-time thing and A’whora would be let down, or it would turn into some long, drawn-out friends with benefits scenario that would probably make everything worse.

The thing is she can only repress her feelings so much and tonight she’s feeling like one of Ellie’s cans of Monster that Tia shook up as a joke and ended up spurting out its contents so violently that there’s still a green-blue stain on their kitchen wall. A’whora’s way too close to telling the girls about every time she’s pictured her and Tayce falling asleep together and waking up together, every time she’s imagined them planning actual dates, every time she’s wanted to kiss her on the sofa- not necessarily even a kiss kiss but just a peck on the cheek, a soft one pressed to the crown of her head, a little one against their knuckles as they hold hands.

It all sounds ridiculous and silly and way too high school. Nothing seems to work the same at uni. Everyone just seems to shag, hook up, kiss strangers they’ll never see again in the shadows of grimy clubs. Everything seems to happen when everyone’s drunk. Everything’s done out of lust rather than love. Everything is so short-term because you can’t plan for the long term if you wake up and don’t remember the night before.

A’whora loves uni, but she doesn’t like that.

Besides, she’s already done all that in high school anyway. Sixth form had been like a crash course in freshers’ week; if she wasn’t drinking in parks or going to house parties she was sneaking into nightclubs using a fake ID that even Stevie Wonder could’ve seen right through. She’d half-heartedly slept with boys and figured out she liked girls when a sleepover after a party took a turn. She’d tried smoking and she came to the conclusion that she didn’t like it enough to buy her own cigarettes, she’d tried mandy once and that was once too much for her. All of that has prepared her well for uni- she’s street smart and has her head screwed on (for the most part- she’s still testing her limits as far as alcohol’s concerned). But feeling like she’s feeling for Tayce is uncharted territory, and out of everything she’s already done and experienced A’whora finds it hard to believe there’s not an age limit on this sort of thing because it all feels more risky and dangerous than smoking roll-ups in a children’s playpark at one in the morning ever did.

A wayheyyy! from Lawrence cuts through her thoughts and she accepts the shot she’s holding out to her, wordlessly clinking it together with Lawrence’s and Ellie’s and slamming it back as if it’s some form of medicine she desperately needs.

“It’s so weird that you don’t do the whole lime and salt thing,” Ellie wrinkles her nose at her friend, who in turn punches one of her own tits with what seems to be pride.

“‘Cause I’m made of strong stuff, babes. Right, what’s the conclusion on this one? Does she fancy Tayce or no?”

“Surely this is a bathroom stall conversation?” A’whora pouts, annoyed that her feelings for Tayce have been brought back up.

As Ellie relays to Lawrence what she’d said to A’whora, A’whora momentarily wonders if she’s in control of anything in her life any more.

Lawrence nods when Ellie’s done. “Smart advice. ‘Cause it would make things awkward for the flat. ‘Magine trying to make a Pot Noodle in the middle of a live-action episode of Eastenders.”

A’whora screws her face up in confusion. “All episodes of Eastenders are live action?”

“Y’know what the fuck I mean,” Lawrence rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Well we’ve given you our blessing and basically we represent the whole country, so. Go for it.”

“Thanks, Nicola Sturgeon, good to know I have your approval,” A’whora smirks at her, amused. When some Becky Hill song comes on over the speakers she takes it as her cue to smooth down her skirt, flip her hair over her shoulder and rest her little shot glass back on the bar. “Right, we going to have a dance or what?”

As she takes her friends’ hands they all but strut over to the dancefloor, and A’whora can see Bimini and Tia pulling shapes that they probably think make them look mysterious and sexy but actually just make them look as drunk as they no doubt are. Before A’whora can push through the crowd, Lawrence tugs her and Ellie back a bit.

“Here, I think I’ve remembered something Tayce told me once, if this is of any use to you?” she begins.

All of A’whora’s nerve endings light up like one of those colourful optical fiber lamps she had when she was small. Her eyes have clearly flown open and her mouth’s dropped slack without her even having to try, so desperate is she for what Lawrence is about to tell her. Ellie’s beside her equally expectant and anticipative, and Lawrence laughs at the pair of them before she continues.

“It was the pair of us and Tia…Christ, when was it…cannae mind. Think you’d gone home for the weekend and Ellie was doing something wi’ Bims…anyway, coupla’ bottles of wine in and we start playing wee stupid games. We’re doing snog, marry, avoid and Tia gives her��fuck, cannae even remember. Let’s say it was Ellie, Bimini and you. Now I can’t remember what she said for the other two but…” Lawrence pauses dramatically, and A’whora is a hair’s breadth away from practically begging her for the information she’s taking so long to impart. “…she said she would marry you because then she’d get to shag you more than just once.”

A’whora doesn’t think her eyes can go any wider but she somehow manages it. She doesn’t really know how to react but Ellie’s doing enough screaming to suffice for the two of them.

“When the fuck were you gonna tell us that?! Fuck, I can’t believe you never told me that! When did this happen?!” Ellie practically screeches in her face.

“Telt you I cannae mind! Maybe like…a month ago? I don’t know,” Lawrence supplies unhelpfully. Usually A’whora would try to rip the piss out of the way her accent’s gone ten times more Braveheart than usual after her series of drinks, but all she can think about is what she’s been told and, well…she can’t help the butterflies in her heart and the way a satisfied, triumphant grin spreads slowly onto her face.

Ellie’s equally as excited beside her. She whacks A’whora on the arm as she squeals with enthusiasm. “See! Now we know she likes you too!”

A’whora feels as if she’s made of glitter and confetti as she spins around in the direction of the bar. Her heart gives a dip on its rollercoaster of emotions as she sees that Tayce has somehow caught the attention of a different girl- long, dark hair and a blue and orange outfit and a mouth that’s moving at about a mile a minute.

There’s a second before A’whora makes to turn away in disappointment when Tayce’s pupils suddenly flick over to rest on her. Tayce’s self-assured expression and body language seem to falter when she catches A’whora’s eye, and she shoots her a little smile that- if A’whora didn’t know the girl better- she’d say was shy.

“Now the challenge is actually getting a chance to talk to her,” A’whora pouts. Chatting up Tayce and maybe getting to fall into bed with her really isn’t a time-sensitive issue; it doesn’t need to happen tonight, but A’whora’s had a chaotic combination of alcohol that makes her think there’s really no time like the present and hey, maybe this is her one and only chance.

“Well, we can keep an eye on her and when she’s free, then that’s your chance,” Ellie smiles, supportive and excited.

“What chat-up line are you gonnae use? I’ve got a cracker you can have if you want,” Lawrence insists, and A’whora and Ellie share a doubtful look.

“Go on.”

“What did one haggis say to the other haggis?” Lawrence begins. Without giving the other girls a chance to interject, she finishes. “…’Gonnae shaggis?’ ”

“And on that note,” Ellie shakes her head and rolls her eyes, taking both of them by the hand and pulling them into the crowd to join their other friends.

It’s amazing how easy it is to forget about the object of her affection chatting to random girls on the other side of the room when Bimini’s grabbing her and almost launching her across the dancefloor with their euphoric pogo-ing along to each and every song that gets played. The five of them drunkenly bum-ba-ba, bum-ba-ba along to Head & Heart and cheer for Tia when she does Nicki’s rap in Swalla without even stopping for breath. A’whora laughs in confusion with the other girls as Lawrence and Ellie get way too excited, squealing and clutching each others’ hands when some clubland tune that’s apparently much bigger in Scotland than it is in the other three corners of the UK gets put on, the lyrics of which seem to consist solely of the words up-up-up and awayyy. Bimini and Lawrence collect more drinks from the bar and A’whora very nearly knocks Ellie’s out of her hand when Friday comes on and she punches the air.

And then Tayce is on her own.

A’whora’s heart almost siezes up with how fast it jolts into full-blown palpitations because this is the moment she can finally go over and talk to her, the chance to turn their friendship into maybe something more even if that something more is only a random hookup after a night out, but it only takes the time for her to shake Ellie’s arm and point in Tayce’s direction for her to see that, yet again, she’s been approached by someone tall and confident and stunning and everything that A’whora wishes Tayce thought about her.

Her face falls and Ellie snaps her fingers in her line of vision, forcing her to look at her and the motherly expression of tough love she’s wearing.

“Hey. When has anyone ever stopped you getting your own way?” she yells at her over the music, and A’whora laughs half in amusement and half in agreement. As she falls silent, Ellie jerks her head towards the bar. “Go get her, bitch.”

It might be the alcohol, but it hits A’whora with a ironically sobering clarity that Ellie’s right.

So she takes a breath in and struts confidently over to the bar, practically able to feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins (although that could well be the caffeine from the second Jaegerbomb she’s downed this evening with Bimini’s encouragement). She smooths down her skirt so the split runs up the front of her thigh and not the side, adjusts the neck of her top so it’s framing her chest the way she wants it to. She could be nervous but the combined alcohol she’s drunk so far this evening pushes that feeling to the back of her head, replacing it with all-consuming confidence that she can feel from the inside out. She looks good, better than good, and she knows she can flirt even though she’s never really tried to flirt with Tayce. Well, never intentionally.

Okay, that’s maybe a lie.

The realisation that she’s actually going through with this is enough to make her want to freeze to the spot but by some miracle she’s still walking forward until she’s three, two, one steps away from her flatmate and the girl at the bar with too much plastic surgery and hair the shade of a vomit-coloured highlighter pen. A’whora wedges her shoulder in between the pair of them, hears the girl give a little tut/sigh hybrid from behind her but A’whora’s not really interested in bickering with her, not when Tayce’s eyes have fallen on her and she’s looking at her, really looking at her with a little playful smile on her painted lips.

“Hey baby boo,” Tayce says by way of a greeting, and A’whora feels her heart melt just a little. She’s being adorable, but she’s not going to let that damage her confident, composed exterior. Until Tayce follows up by running a hand down her arm and lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t seen you all night, I missed you.”

With that, A’whora feels the little cocky smirk she’s wearing break out into a shy grin, one that she hopes doesn’t look as ridiculously goofy as it feels. “Well. Maybe you would’ve seen more of me if you hadn’t been playing Take Me Out with half the bloody girls in here.”

“Who, me?” Tayce gasps, clutching the gold chain around her neck and pretending to be affronted. A’whora doesn’t mean to roll her eyes but she clearly does, and the small giggle she draws out of Tayce as a result makes it almost worth it. The squeeze Tayce gives her hand turns that almost into a definitely, as does what Tayce follows up with. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know.”

“You’re cute…all the time,” A’whora claps back, wishing she had some sort of drink in her hand to press against her face as she feels her blush start to bloom across her cheeks.

“I know, babe, that’s why I’ve been getting my drinks bought for me all night,” Tayce winks.

If Awhora uses that as a signal to pull her bank card from her bra, that’s nobody’s business but her own. The way Tayce’s gaze flicks to her chest lights a match in her heart. “Well…let me buy you one and then you won’t have to miss me so much.”

Tayce’s awed smile spreads slowly onto her face and they agree on tequila shots, the phase of the evening where they were nursing their drinks left firmly in the dust as the bartender hands them a salt shaker, two little shot glasses and two wedges of lime. The way Tayce’s tongue slides over the side of her hand before she sprinkles the salt and the way their eyes meet as she licks it up makes A’whora’s mouth dry, so the tequila’s welcome for a split second before she remembers why she hates it, the flavour and sheer strength of the alcohol akin to being hit by a truck.

As she grabs desperately for the lime like it’s an oxygen mask on a crash-landing plane, Tayce laughs and shakes her head pityingly. “You always end up ordering tequila and you always, always hate it.”

A’whora blinks as she composes herself, gives a little shiver of recovery. She cocks her head at Tayce inquisitively. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”

Tayce looks to the ground as she smiles, tucks a piece of her long hair behind her ear. It’s endearing and soft and it makes A’whora panic, so she presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow at Tayce questioningly. “So, how’d your little episode of Blind Date go anyway?“

"Gosh, you’re really pressed about this, aren’t you?” Tayce’s eyes are narrow as she smirks at her, and now it’s A'whora’s turn to look embarrassed. The soft laugh Tayce gives is reassuring so A'whora’s gaze drifts back up again and their eyes meet as she speaks again. “Well, there was, uh…blonde lady. Blonde lady with the muscles and the eyeliner. God, what was her name?”

“This is off to a flying start.”

“Kameron!” Tayce yells in her face as she remembers. It makes A’whora snort with laughter, something that’s probably wildly unattractive but she knows Tayce has seen her do it before. “And then there was, uh, Priyanka. I remember her name because she kept telling me every two minutes. That was a wild conversation.”

“Uh-huh. Who was the bitch I elbowed out the way?”

Tayce smirks at her, wobbles a little in her heels and steadies herself against the bar. “That was…Detox.”

“Radox?”

Tayce splutters. “Detox!”

“Should’ve called herself Botox, would’ve been nearer to the mark,” A’whora turns up her top lip. Tayce explodes in an outraged laugh beside her, clutches her wrist in a way that makes A’whora hope she won’t be able to feel her rapid pulse.

“Says Aurora Georgia Boyle, who asked for lip fillers for her eighteenth and was actually allowed to get them!”

“Don’t full name me, piece of shit!” A’whora gasps in mock-offence, shakes herself away from Tayce’s grip but finds her inexplicably nearer to her than she was before. She’s not necessarily complaining, though, because her whole left side is against Tayce’s right and there’s some form of other-worldly magnetism that seems to keep them pressed together. It makes her heart flutter so she tucks a section of hair behind her ear before she frowns. “I never told you that. How come you know that?”

“You did tell me! Back in freshers week! You just don’t remember,” Tayce giggles, poking her cheek with one acrylic nail. It should hurt more than it does. Maybe it does hurt and A’whora can’t feel it. She’s had a lot to drink.

It’s the alcohol she blames when she hooks an arm around Tayce’s waist, tilts her head and drops her volume to a murmur. “You seem to remember a lot of things about me.”

Tayce’s eyes widen just that little bit. “Well you’re a bit of an unforgettable person, really.”

Her words make A’whora’s heart light up so much that she can feel herself glowing from the inside out. She brings her other arm around Tayce in a tight hug, her hands joining at the small of her back, and Tayce mirrors her so they’re both anchoring each other. It’s hard for her to remember whether they’ve ever shared a hug like this before. It seems too intimate for friends, but A’whora doesn’t mind.

“Tayce.”

“Rory,” Tayce replies, mimicking her whine and the way she draws her name out. A’whora likes the nickname she gives her probably more than she should; she supposes it’s because only Tayce uses it and because it’s rooted in her actual given name.

A’whora pouts, squeezes Tayce’s waist. “I missed you tonight, you know.”

“Missed you too. Missed you so much,” Tayce murmurs back.

She’s already said it, A’whora knows she’s already said it, but with the way they’re both gazing at each other it seems to mean something more, something different. It’s ridiculous- they’re both drunk, and famously no good decisions have ever happened when two people have had this many assorted shots, but somehow it feels like all of this is just right.

A’whora drops her head to rest it on Tayce’s shoulder and she feels her arms tighten around her in response. Her lips graze her neck as she murmurs against it. “Not leaving me again.”

There’s a pause where she can’t really see Tayce’s expression or how she’s reacted. Her heart freezes, and the terror and reality of having crossed the line between friendship and whatever the hell this is suddenly consumes her whole body. She’s relieved, then, when Tayce eventually mutters against the crown of her head.

“All yours, baby.”

And she presses a kiss to her hair. Just like A’whora’s been dreaming about for so long.

She feels giddy and dizzy with absolute euphoria, so it’s that she blames when she puts her lips against Tayce’s neck again and plants one, two, three little kisses there in quick succession.

“Tayce,” she whispers again. She doesn’t really know what she wants to say or how to say it, but she knows she doesn’t want to go back to the dancefloor, and she doesn’t want to be with their other friends. She just wants her and Tayce together for however long she’ll let it be that way, and she doesn’t even care about the busy bar or the drunk students that bump into them every so often or the stares from the rowdy group of rugby lads that would usually make her feel intimidated, but not when she’s with Tayce.

When she’s with Tayce everything seems a little bit better somehow, just by her being there.

So maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the tequila, or maybe it’s the feeling of having Tayce’s arms around her that makes A’whora tilt her head back up again and meet Tayce’s waiting lips with her own. There’s none of the usual hesitation or awkward pause that comes with kissing someone new because really the amount of times A’whora’s imagined this, dreamt about it, thought about it in daydreams that completely unhook her from reality, it’s as if it’s happened before.

Nothing has prepared her for the real thing though. How Tayce brings a hand up to rest at her jaw and how the other stays placed against the bare skin of her back, warm and supportive. How the both of them sway a little, unsteady in their heels as if they’ve been knocked for six. How Tayce’s body is close against hers and A’whora pushes a hand in her hair in an attempt to somehow bring her even closer. How kissing Tayce leaves her breathtaken and satisfied yet somehow amplifies her feeling of longing, because the more she gives to her the more A’whora wants and with every second that Tayce’s lips are on hers she can only feel the heat that’s pooling in her stomach growing more and more intense.

When Tayce pulls away and A’whora can only catch her breath, she fixes her with a lazy, half-lidded smile that makes her insides turn to melted honey.

“That was nice,” she blinks, and she’s a second away from kicking herself- because, really?- when Tayce giggles softly under her breath. She brushes a little piece of A’whora’s hair off her face, and the gentleness of the action throws her a little. A’whora brings her arms up to loop around her neck, and she leans in close again. “I wanna do it again.”

“I want to do…a lot of things. With you,” Tayce says, casual and chill as if her words haven’t just sent A’whora up in flames.

“Like…?”

“Like…maybe come back to mine and I’ll show you, baby.”

The whole moment’s perfect enough for A’whora to almost overlook the blunder Tayce has just made, but her nature dictates that she can’t let her get away with it. “We…we live together.”

Tayce lets out a snort, bumps her forehead against A’whora’s as she despairs of herself. “Right. Well…we gonna go home, then?”

A’whora doesn’t need to be asked twice. She laces her fingers in Tayce’s, resolves to text the others to tell them they’ve left, and stumbles towards the exit with her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

When she blinks, she’s tired, she’s in bed, it’s bright, and she’s confused as all hell.

The headache hits her like a sledgehammer to the face and she blinks slowly and heavily, adjusting herself to her surroundings. She’s in her own room, she can tell that much from the photos of her and her friends from back home on the cupboard and the fairy lights on her desk that aren’t switched on. Her mouth feels like a badger’s shat in it and her eyes are all achey, and as she throws an arm up to rub at them she’s surprised when she doesn’t see any leftover eye makeup on the back of her hand.

“The kraken awakes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora flinches, her head whipping over to the foot of her bed to find Tayce sitting cross-legged leaning against the wall, her phone in her hand. She’s wearing her old leggings with the bleach stains and the hole at the calf, and a purple tie-dye sweatshirt that’s a size too big for her. Her hair’s loose and framing her face and the only makeup she has on is the little scattering of eyeliner that’s hanging tight to her lash line and has managed to escape the makeup wipe.

She looks disarmed and shy. There’s something comforting about it, because A’whora feels confused and completely on the back foot and she has no idea what’s going on. But there’s a warm smile on her face and it meets her eyes, so despite her disorientation A’whora feels safe.

“How long’ve you been there? Were you just watching me sleep like some…creepy Twilight vampire?” A’whora groans, sitting up and leaning forward and taking a deep breath as if it’ll make her headache go away.

Tayce laughs in a way that makes A’whora think the question’s flustered her, but she’s not sure. “The others went to get breakfast. I said I’d stay with you. Didn’t want you to be on your own feeling like shit and maybe having the fear.”

“I am having the fear. I don’t even know how we got home.”

The way Tayce’s face drops in what looks like abject panic makes her wonder what did happen last night. “Wait. What do you actually remember?”

A’whora’s heart is racing as she scans her mind for memories. Pres, club, drinks, booth. Tayce talking to some girl. Dancefloor. Tayce. Talking to Tayce. Kissing Tayce-

Kissing Tayce.

“Oh, no,” A’whora blurts out involuntarily. Her eyes are wide as she looks at Tayce. “We…did we? We did?”

Tayce’s face seems to relax as she bursts out laughing, and it all comes flooding back to A’whora and hits her like a train. Everything that had seemed like such a good idea last night now seems like the most awkward situation in the world now that Tayce is here, on her bed, and they’re both sober.

“Tayce, no,” A’whora whines, putting her head in her hands as her friend keeps laughing. “No! That’s so awkward. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it was a good kiss,” Tayce smiles back, somehow both coy and self-assured at once. It’s her reaction that causes a new wave of cold horror to crash against A’whora, a wave on a rock.

“Oh, Jesus. Did anything else happen?”

Tayce grows animated. “God, yeah, we had the best sex ever. Sixty-nines, scissoring, we got the vibrators involved. It was bloody lush.”

A’whora’s too hungover to realise that Tayce is winding her up until she screeches with laughter right in her horrified face. “Oh my God, Rory, your face! No I’m joking, ‘course I’m joking.”

“Thank fuck,” A’whora sighs a world-weary sigh of relief, throwing herself back down against her pillows and immediately regretting it for the way her brain ricochets against her skull and makes her headache ten times worse. “So what did happen?”

“Well, you wanted to walk back because you wanted to look at the stars, so when we got to the square we lay down and looked at the stars for a bit. And then I wanted to go get chips and cheese but you were dragging me back home because you were so horny,” Tayce looks at her pointedly, and A’whora groans with embarrassment, grabbing her pillow and shoving it over her face. “But then after we got up the stairs and in through the door you said you felt sick, so I then had to hold your hair back while you threw up last night’s pasta bake and what looked to be about fifty different kinds of alcohol into the toilet bowl. Then I had to put you to bed and stay up half the night making sure you didn’t choke on your own tongue while you were asleep. Best one night stand I’ve ever had.”

When A’whora takes the pillow away, Tayce winks at her. She feels like putting the pillow back.

“I’m honestly so sorry,” she pouts. She is sorry. Part of her wishes she could at least properly remember what it had felt like to kiss Tayce. All the memories of the moment are much too paper-thin and flimsy, butterfly wings that’re all too rapidly flying away. Tayce isn’t giving her any cause to be embarrassed, but A’whora is anyway.

So she’s not sure what Tayce is going to say when she leans forward, takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Go brush your teeth.”

A’whora thinks she might be the first person in history to have cause of death: cringe written on her birth certificate. “You’re really adding insult to injury, aren’t you? Telling me all the embarrassing shit I did while I was off my face and then basically telling me my breath smells like dog shite.”

Tayce laughs as she shakes her head. “Just go do it, idiot.”

She’s never been one to say no to Tayce so A’whora drags herself out from under her duvet towards the little sink tucked away in the corner of her room, the cold chill of the freezing air hitting her bare arms and her feet and rendering her even more miserable. It’s only when she’s halfway through scrubbing at her teeth when it registers that she’s even got pyjamas on.

“Did you have to put my pyjamas on for me?” A’whora asks around her toothbrush, realising all too late that trying to talk through a mouthful of toothpaste is probably as unattractive as vomiting into the toilet bowl.

(The toilet bowl is definitely worse, but she’s just thinking this to help herself feel better.)

Tayce looks up from her phone and raises an eyebrow. “Nah, you managed to do it yourself. You did make me watch you put your stick-on bra on your forehead, though. Apparently it was the funniest thing in the world.”

A’whora just groans as she turns back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and following it with mouthwash just to completely clean her mouth of the various alcoholic sins of the night before. She crawls back into bed with a wearied sigh, and she’s surprised when Tayce falls on her side and scoots up beside her, laying on her side and facing her so their noses are almost touching. A’whora feels her heart lift and her pulse speed up, and it’s not helped by the way Tayce reaches out and tucks a little piece of hair behind her ear.

Tayce trails her fingers across to cup A’whora’s cheek, and she’s almost whispering when she speaks. “Thank God. Just wanted to do this again.”

When she leans in A’whora shuts her eyes, meets her halfway, and feels every cell in her body electrify when their lips touch. If kissing Tayce in a club when they were both drunk was good, then kissing her hungover in bed is somehow even better, and A’whora’s mystified at the way her headache seems to completely disappear with every second she spends with her lips on Tayce’s, kissing her gently and softly as if they’ve got all the time in the world. Tayce smells of everything comforting- Tresemme shampoo, snow fairy shower gel, the fabric softener she uses that’s way too expensive for a student budget. Fresh and clean and somehow new. It’s the simplest heaven A’whora has ever experienced.

Tayce pulls away and they both giggle, embarrassment and awkwardness gone now that the elephant in the room’s been addressed. A’whora only realises Tayce has taken her hand when she lets it go, pushes herself off the mattress and crosses the room towards the door.

“We should do that again some time,” she smiles wickedly by way of a goodbye, and A’whora can only nod bashfully in reply and agreement. Tayce has given her hope to hold on to, and she knows she’s going to cling to it ridiculously until whatever this is happens again.

She can’t wait.

Just as Tayce opens her door and A’whora resigns herself to her leaving, she lifts her head off the pillow when she hears her flatmate’s voice again as she disappears into the hallway.

“And go have a shower. You smell like tequila.”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #university au #british au #college au #freshers au #roommate au #friends with benefits to lovers #tayce #a'whora #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

54 notes · View notes

adinosaurnamedmittens · 4 years ago

Text

Alright so I can’t stop thinking of RVB Zero and how much potential it has so I wanna rework it a bit to work better.

So first I’m gonna talk about the new characters and what I’d change before breaking down the individual episodes for critique and suggested rewrites. At this point, I’ve only seen up to episode 4, Encounter. So spoilers till that ep.

West - Honestly great! He doesn’t have a ton of character, but what he has is solid. He works very well as the gruff, no-nonsense leader who’s a tiny bit of a dad.

Raymond - Also great! He’s the most classic RVB character, as he’s an underdog who’s not the best at fighting, but has a lot of heart. My fav new character, right next to Tiny.

One - I want to change her to 2nd in command and drop the whole “can’t work within a team” thing. Keep the confidence and slight rudeness, but drop all the lines referencing anti-teamwork. It hasn’t factored into the story so far, One has been successfully working as part of the team for all the episodes. This would make her dynamic with Axel more interesting, being in a higher position of power. Especially considering how her healthy relationship with her dad contrasts with East and West’s relationship. This would reinforce the tension with East, since One now has an actual position of power over her. Also, she should have the exact same powers as Zero, but maybe less powerful. This would help foreshadow that reveal, and help us understand how the enhancements work. While One is a bit of a shit, and thinks she knows best, she’s willing to take the fall when her ideas fail or get them in trouble.

Axel - Imma be honest: totally forgot he was One’s adopted dad until I rewatched the episodes prepping for this. You could drop it totally, as it gets a bit redundant with West and East’s relationship, but I think there’s more fun in working with it. Also, if One’s 2nd in command and Axel isn’t insecure about it at all? Instantly makes him a more likable guy. I also think he parallels to Wash very well (bit of a kid at heart, weapons guy, team dad, emotional heart) so we’re gonna expand on that too.

East - Her and One’s relationship is the driving force of conflict within the strike team. With the changes made to One, East can stay pretty much unchanged. Before they were too similar. Now, with One being abrasive but willing to work together, and East being more reserved and distant, they’re great foils for each other. Also she parallels early Carolina, which I love (speed is her ability, prefers working alone, competitive as hell, dad runs team)

Villains: On characterization, they’re all good! Villains are allowed to be a bit more shallow, and they all seem to have understandable motives for what they’re doing: Zero wants revenge and power, Phase wants revenge especially against West, and Diesel just seems like he’s having fun. I do want to change Zero’s power tho, with Phase already having a teleport with a cool gimmick, and Diesel having a strength/tank ability, Zero should have a unique ability. Maybe gravity because of the sword? It would allow him some cool movement tricks while still being visually distinct from Diesel and Phase’s abilities. Or something inspired by his “ghost” line from Duo.

EP 1: Viper

The Good: The introduction to the villains and their abilities was amazing. I love Phase’s knife and it’s honestly one of the coolest things I’ve seen in the show. And the intro to the Strike team? Hilarious. Great character work. You can tell that One and Axel are close, that Raymond is hesitant and new, East and One have a very competitive relationship, and West is the tough love dad.

The Bad: Don’t violate the 180 camera rule. The intro fight scene was cool, but the camera moved way too much and made it hard to keep track of everything happening. And with the new, shiny art style we need a bit more time to absorb what’s happening since the detail level went up. Also y’all healed Wash’s brain damage with a throwaway line, and then immediately fridged him? Not cool. I mean, if you wanted to show how tough the villains are, you already had them beat up Carolina.

Story Changes: - Zero gets name dropped this ep so we get a scene next ep where Axel recognizes his name. - Either replace Wash with a high ranking soldier and completely scrub him from the episode, or give a different reason why he can’t help, maybe exactly Carolina’s reason of “you’re recovering”. I’m not committing to totally removing Wash bc in Recovery Carolina’s line of “That I-that we thought was a medium risk asset” hints that Wash knew exactly what they were carrying and I’m excited to see where they take that. - Mainly I want scenes of Wash talking to Axel and expanding on his characterization as they are both Nice Boys Who Have Been Through It. - I also think a scene after we meet Strike where Axel asks Raymond “You like riding with East?” and Ray goes “You two stuck me with her on purpose!” and One goes “Yup!” all cheerfully. Just reinforce those team dynamics and friendships before it goes to shit!

EP 2: Recovery

The Good: The garage scene was perfect. Tiny is amazing, love her so much! And Axel got such great characterization during this ep. What a dork. West and Raymond also work super well together, their interactions are great.

The Bad:You know it’s a problem when the villains have a better dynamic than the heroes. The scene where Carolina explains all the strike member’s abilities and personalities? Bad. Also a little OOC for her. And redundant, since we also get Raymond asking West about East, and Axel’s explanation of the girls to Carolina.

Story Changes: - Have Axel, the emotional heart, waiting outside the recovery room for Carolina. Honestly, this isn’t that big, but I think it’d suit his character. - Carolina’s exposition is changed to solely history and abilities, no commenting on their personalities. Maybe East gets a little “has shown difficulty in working with others” but that’s it. The physical acting for these scenes really shines through, so let it stand alone. Even watching without sound, you can pick up that West is a no-nonsense leader, that Axel isn’t a flashy fighter but gets the job done, that East is fairly young and doesn’t take fighting seriously, and that One is willing to leave others behind if she thinks she can do it better. - For Carolina’s convo with One this ep about her “not willing to work on a team” either swap One with East or change it to “you need to listen to your team more. Don’t assume that you immediately now what’s best” - At the end of training, when Axel says “the guards were priority #1″ One should say “I knew you could handle it.” and Axel could respond with “Well, it’d be nice if you let me know that.” to show that One can work well as 2nd in command, but needs to communicate and stop assuming things. -Also should change Axel’s warning line about her enhancements to “Don’t push yourself. Remember what happened last time?” to enforce that this is a habit, and that while he cares about her, he’s not trying to boss her around as much. -Don’t reveal that East is West’s daughter until Raymond and West talk. That way, there’s a bit more emotional weight, and Ray’s line of “I was digging through the team files” makes more sense if Carolina doesn’t drop that info in the previous scene. - When Axel talks about the experiments East went through, he should mention that he was there for some of them. Dropping more foreshadowing for the Axel/Zero reveal! - Carolina drops Zero’s name in their convo, and we get a shot of Axel’s hand tightening on his weapon, showing the audience that the name means something to him, but we don’t know why.

EP 3: Duo

The Good: First 3rd of the ep? Really good. I love One being rude to Carolina, and then gaining a grudging respect. West and Raymond are, again, the best dynamic. How? I honestly have no idea. The car looks so stupid in the funniest way, I hate it but I love it. Also god yes Axel and Zero’s relationship is so wholesome and could be the best thing in this season. One’s warning call to the facility? The funniest shit. And Zero’s dialogue is hella cliched, but it works bc he’s obv such a dramatic bitch.

The Bad: HOLY HELL THE DIALOGUE. First, One and East’s fight? garbage. Very forced. Super hard to believe these two are real people. Carolina and West literally repeat the exact same line, less than 5 seconds apart. The dishwasher joke West makes does NOT at all work, it’s too tonally dissonant.

Story Changes: - Obv. need to change One and East’s convo. End it with “Without your power, you wouldn’t even be on this team!” East should storm off or almost attack One, requiring Axel to diffuse. - It’d also be really nice to get a line where One acknowledges that she went too far with that, but puts off apologizing to East. It’d be a nod that she’s good at reflecting and assessing, but too proud to actually take her words back. - I’d like to make Raymond more panicked when they find Wash. It’d help sell that he’s in bad shape and add more weight to “He’s got a heartbeat!” - Maybe re-work Phase and Zero’s conversation a bit. The dialogue is definitely not this season’s strong suit. - Pull Carolina’s “I’m just trying to help, East.” since it’s more impactful for East to storm off immediately and West says the line a couple seconds later. And change East’s dialogue to “You may be my CO, but don’t try to be my dad. Not after what you’ve done.” Or something similar. - For the dishwasher gag in the meeting, either pull it or double down. It’d work so much better if someone asks “Are you serious about this? Aren’t there more important things to discuss?” and West just deadpans. “This is of the upmost importance. If we can’t keep this base clean, how can we be expected to do anything else?!” and then Carolina clears her throat super loud and West goes “...Right. Rookie? Take it from here.” - Rework the “Carolina stay behind” dialogue. Even just a “Carolina. You’re still recovering. If you get hurt again, it’ll just be longer till you can take these bastards down. Keep an eye on Wash, will you?” I just couldn’t get behind the wording of “we need you here. With wash” It sounds like every cliched “woman must stay behind while the manly men save everyone!” Might be personal preference but just ew. - Add a scene where One notices Axel being a bit off (bc he’s worried about Zero being a part of the bad guy team) and she asks if he’s okay. He brushes her off, says its nothing. She goes “alright, i trust you.” - Maybe make the flashback a bit more apparent? There was a moment in the middle where I questioned whether or not it was a flashback. Again, could be a me problem.

EP 4: Encounter

The Good: The fight scenes continue to be absolute standouts. The varied environments, the movement, the dynamics on point. Wish we could’ve saw a bit more from Axel, but as is the scene worked well. The framing of the ep was good too, cutting between the mission and the fallout. And Ray, resident coward, immediately squaring up without a thought after West got injured? *chef’s kiss*. THAT is good character development. THAT is an amazing way to establish their relationship without telling us outright. Go feral, my boy! And Tiny and Raymond’s convo was so cute. I love how, despite what he says, Ray is there for his team and always willing to help. Carolina and One’s convo was also pretty decent. It got a bit long and over-explainy on Carolina’s end, but there were some pretty good moments.

The Bad: The fight after the mission failure was SO over-acted. Too much motion, to many camera angles. It changed what should have been tense arguments to hilarious melodrama. This has been a consistent problem, but it REALLY affects this scene in particular. And the second Axel enters the scene it just immediately goes downhill.

Story Changes: - Add a line from West in the beginning scene like “I’ll cut them off!” to explain why he isn’t in the car too. This also means it’s not as out-of-nowhere when West shows up to trash the car. - One should call out Axel instead of East. If she’s his daughter, she should be able to tell when he’s acting off. And she would have an easier time connecting the dots between Axel and Zero. - Instead of “I trusted you.” One should say “You lied to me.” 1) He’s her dad. One lie isn’t gonna break her total trust. 2) This would imply it’s the first time he’s lied to her, adding more weight to the whole situation 3) It’s way more accusatory and less cliched (if only a bit) - Add in a “One, wait!” bc I am a sucker for it and we could hear the guilt in his voice, rather than the weird scene where the girls make him spin around by bumping into him. - It’d also be nice if Ray stayed back for a bit before leaving, so we got a bit of his feelings on the matter. I mean, obviously he cares a lot about West, but does he blame Axel for not being there to help? It’d be nice to know!

TL;DR The best parts of the episodes are the fight scenes, and when they focus on the fun team dynamics. The worst parts are dialogue (mostly the serious bits) and over-animating, as this takes away from the drama.

I don’t mind the cheesy villains, but that may not be the case for everyone.

The best part of RVB has always been the rag-tag found family dynamics. While the fight scenes are cool, they have always been supplemental to the real meat of the show. The writers are trying something new with the whole “actual family” but you have got to focus on and develop these relationships if you want fans to care.

Mostly, I see a lot of potential in these characters, but there are GLARING issues in this season that are holding them back.

#rvb #rvb zero #rvb zero spoilers #rant #long post #criticism #might add on to this when new eps release bc i am invested #though not entirely for the right reasons #i just see the POTENTIAL #and i physically cannot hold myself back

33 notes · View notes

everyonewillsee · 7 years ago

Text

So this is adorable and then maggie and I started talking about an au because of course we did.

1.5k of chatfic edited for clarity below the cut (hs au, vietreau, rolo)

Ronan regrets every single choice he’s ever made. Well, he regrets all the choices he’s made that have led to this moment, staring at the wall in an Applebees bathroom, idly counting the tiles while he wonders if it will ever be safe to exit.

It started when Jon Favreau was elected Student Council President. The school paper obviously was going to do a profile on him and Ronan was the newly appointed editor-in-chief even though he’s only a sophomore so he wanted to get it right. He interviews all the other Student Council reps about Favs and his leadership style. Then he interviews Favs’ friends for good measure.

That’s where his fatal mistake begins. He’s talking to Tommy Vietor, who’s been friends with Favs for “as long as I can remember,” which in theory should give him some great insight. Then Ronan asks about how everyone seems to follow Favs like he’s some prophet and Tommy says absently, “well he’s easy to love. I think like eighty percent of people who interact with him get a crush on him, present company included.” Tommy doesn’t seem to notice what he’s admitted, but he’s got a smile on his face that Ronan files away as they keep talking.

A week later, he finally sits down with the man himself. Favs is electric to talk to, even as you know you’re talking to an extremely bro-ey high school senior who plays three sports but also manages to trip over his own feet daily. Then he says something super self-deprecating and it just slips out. “Hey I have it on good authority that multiple people have huge crushes on you.”

Favs looks, shocked. Apparently he really didn’t know. He presses for details which Ronan refuses to give, of course. The story runs three days later and Ronan’s waiting in the cafeteria line when he hears Favs, ten people in front of him of course, loudly declaiming about how he “cannot believe that people I know have crushes on me!” Ronan sheepishly peeks around to see who he’s talking to. On the outskirts of their group of friends, Tommy looks like he’s determinedly willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Next to Tommy, Jon Lovett looks directly at Ronan and grins. Oh shit.

-----

Lovett only joined the school paper this year because his English teacher wouldn’t stop scolding him how he’d be perfect for it. The best part about being on the school paper is the editor-in-chief. Lovett was never great at making friends. Then, freshman year, he somehow acquired the affection of a couple of jocks who moonlight on the speech and debate team. Favs and Tommy are great, really they are, but being friends with Ronan is something different. He’s never had to explain the chronology Star Trek to Ronan, for example. Ronan also currently holds the most interesting piece of gossip in the school.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me?” Lovett wheedles for the millionth time while they’re leaning over the layout for the paper in early November.

“I can’t betray my sources.” Ronan says seriously, just like every single time. The school really ought to give him an award for being the “most serious about journalistic integrity” high school newspaper editor of all time.

“What if I guess?” Ronan pretends to be ignoring him, but this is a well honed tactic. Ronan won’t crack and tell him who said they had a crush on Favs, but his face is more expressive than he thinks. “It’s someone we know. Someone who spends a lot of time around Favs. Is it one of his friends?” Ronan’s lips tighten. That’s a yes.

The next week there’s an exhibition debate. Allegedly Ronan is covering it for the paper but when Lovett invites him to come to Applebees with them afterwards he practically dives into Tommy’s car. Lovett squeezes into the booth opposite Tommy and Favs slides in next to him, spreading out with the happy glow he gets after a job well done.

“I just, really like to have the opportunity to know I can influence people’s opinions,” Favs says earnestly.

“Or your smile can anyways, must be nice to have a face that does all the talking,” Lovett teases him automatically. This isn’t new, but what follows is.

“Stop it. No one is being influenced by how I look. Most people don’t even notice,” Favs complains. But Tommy’s gone bright red and Ronan is studiously, carefully looking directly across the table at Favs, refusing to make eye contact with Tommy next to him or Lovett in the corner.

“Oh fuck!” Lovett yells. That gets Ronan’s attention and Lovett widens his eyes at him disbelievingly, jerking his head in Tommy’s direction. Ronan throws his hands up in the air and flees the table towards the bathroom.

Tommy and Favs both look embarrassed and confused and sort of annoyed. Oh right, Lovett is screaming in an Applebees with the rest of the debate team in the booths around them, looking on interestedly. They stare for a second, but then go back to their own lives, apparently used to everything Lovett is.

After what seems like a long time, Favs finally ventures, "um, what?"

"Your anonymous source secret admirer!"

“That’s redundant," Tommy says, too fast.

"No its not, don’t try to distract me Tommy Vietor," Lovett snaps. He will not be diverted into an argument about grammar right now. Tommy is furiously red under his stare. "You are!"

“He’s what?” Favs asks beside him, sounding very lost. Of course he’s lost, he’s been so busy watching Tommy he’s never noticed Tommy looks back. To be charitable Lovett hadn’t noticed either, but it’s not his love life.

Tommy looks like he’s trying to become one with the booth. "You're stupid." Lovett says, softer. "He does too."

"Lovett..."

"Do something," Lovett says imperiously as he climbs over Favs’ lap out of the booth.

As he walks away he hears Favs say, "what the fuck?"

Do something. Lovett’s advice to Tommy echoes in his head as he makes his way to the bathroom. He pushes open the door to find Ronan leaning against the sinks, staring at the tile. “Look, your journalistic integrity is intact,” he announces.

Ronan cracks a smile at him, sheepish and Lovett crowds him until he’s got him pressed against the wall. “Is it going to be a problem for your integrity to date one of your staff members?” That earns him a surprised laugh and then he’s leaning in to kiss the grin off Ronan’s face.

-----

Favs is so goddamn lost. Tommy and Lovett had a whole conversation in half phrases and looks and then Lovett narrowly avoided kneeing him in the dick and disappeared. “What the fuck Tommy?"

Tommy bites his lip and takes a deep breath, "The whole thing, with Ronan's story for the paper and his anonymous source." Favs stares at him blankly. "Favs you’ve been talking about it for a month I know you remember it."

"Yeah."

"It was me."

Favs is nonplussed. "You weren’t anonymous, your name was in the article?"

"Right but.... fuck." Tommy runs a hand through his hair and then recenters himself and stares directly at Favs. "Jon it’s me. I have a crush on you. I was an idiot and said something stupid to Ronan about it and then he let it slip to you. I'm sorry." Favs stares at him for a long time. “Okay,” he says softly, almost to himself. Then he stands up, or tries to stand up, he gets caught on the table leg on the way. It’s undignified and Tommy would laugh at him under normal circumstances but this is far from normal.

He’s standing on the outside of the table, a hand pressed into it to steady himself when Tommy says, “Jon.” His voice is soft and resigned, with the tiniest note of pleading.

Favs swings himself around the table to land on the other side of the booth right next to Tommy. Tommy looks at him, surprised. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You have a crush on me?" Tommy nods nervously. Jon studies him carefully. "Good."

"What?"

"That's good, cause I have like, a giant crush on you. For like, forever."

"What?" Tommy yelps.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

-----

Ronan might not regret every life choice he’s ever made. His choices might have been alright after all, if they led to this night, making out with Jon Lovett in an Applebee's bathroom, finally exiting, giggling, when a middle aged man walked in and gave them a disapproving look. His journalistic integrity is intact and it looks like he has a boyfriend and when they get back to the booth, Favs has climbed almost entirely into Tommy’s lap.

“Fuck,” Lovett says. “We’re going to have the same anniversary.”

#meanwhile all i have written on any of my FIVE wips today is a single quotation mark #yike #hastily edited fluffy chatfic #vietreau #nerds in love #apparently i'm writing fic again?

34 notes · View notes

sunnysidewrites · 7 years ago

Text

The Dove and the Peacock | Joshua vs Junhui

Genre: fluff/angst, meta (abstract concept), a little bit of everything its just a wild ride

Pairing: Reader x Joshua vs Junhui

Word count: 8.4k (this is the longest fully written scenario I’ve ever written omg)

Synopsis: All she had to do was choose between the dove or the peacock. Easy enough, right?

A/N: This was originally written for the same friend I did ZA!Hwiyoung for!! This is written in a completely different writing style than what I usually do (I wanted to try something new), but it still has “me” elements, if that makes sense LOL. This concept is a little abstract and difficult to understand, but I hope you still enjoy reading and pls give me feedback! THIS IS SO LONG I CANT BELIEVE ITS FREAKING 8.4K HOLY CRAP SLKFFL IT SUCKS IM SORRY BUT HAPPY READING FROM YOUR FAV MOM!!!!

Just choose one.

Blank, empty walls surrounded her body, if one would even call it that. She floated around mindlessly, a soul having left her body. She didn’t feel tied down as she did earlier, a weight having lifted off of her. Her limbs freely moved as much as her thoughts wildly ran. Her eyes glazed over the sight in front of her with serenity that would expectedly send one into hysteria.

A hundred – that’s how many birds occupied the empty space, particularly doves and peacocks.

“There’s far too many,” she whispered. She took in every corner of the room, every feather, every color. Where would she even start?

As if reading her mind, the voice cried out again.

You’ll know.

“I’m not so sure about this,” your voice was laced with concern and anxiety. “Relax, Y/N!” your friend countered with her optimism. “What better way to dress up this nice than tonight? You have gorgeous clothes, and it’s time to finally put them to use!”

Your university held its annual ball at the end of the year to celebrate completing finals, and of course it just had to be masquerade-themed. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your white lace dress that hit mid-thigh with a neckline that would be way too low if it were to plunge an inch or two more. The silver necklace stood out on your chest in contrast to your dark waves cascading down your back pinned back into a half updo with a cream bow. Your other hand grasped the matching glittery black half face mask with a design intricately highlighting your eyes, bolding your eyeliner and mascara, courtesy of your friend’s talent. “I look ridiculous.”

You saw your friend’s hands land on your shoulders through the mirror with her face almost align to yours. “You look amazing, and you’ll do more than just turn heads,” she cheekily winked before giggling. She gestured to her oppositely colored outfit coordination, “We both look hot! You need to let loose after hitting those books for months. You just finished your last final a few days ago and haven’t been doing anything fun,” she emphasized her last word. “Our graduation is just around the corner, Y/N, and this is the first and last time you will be able to attend this ball.”

You sighed, “You already know I’m not a party person.” You shook your head. “But since you were so nice asking me to go, I’ll do it for you,” you jokingly rolled your eyes as your friend tugged on your arm from delight. She looked at the clock you shared in the apartment and gasped. “We’re going to be late! Let’s go now,” she pushed you out the door and grabbed her bag before securely locking the door behind her.

Upbeat melodies and pumping beats filled every inch of your body once you entered the venue. The dance was already in full-swing despite only having the doors opened fifteen minutes ago. “So much for not going to prom,” you muttered under your breath as you took in the dimly lit room that was quickly tightening due to the amount of attendees arriving. Neutrally colored balloons decorated the ceiling, and some were taped to the inner balconies that upheld couples and their intense makeout sessions. You tore your eyes away and focused on finding the one thing you really came for: the food.

Making a beeline to the mini buffet, you steadily stacked your plate and headed towards to an empty table. You lost your friend long ago when some of her peers stopped her to squeal about how fabulous they both looked on the dance floor, but that wasn’t on your mind as you pleasantly stuffed your mouth with the delicacies. You were midway through finishing your plate when someone’s voice rang out above the music and the chattering.

“Y/N?”

You froze, half of the dessert you were chowing down remaining in your mouth. You’re kidding me, you mentally slapped yourself and tried gulping down the food as a familiar face hidden behind a similar mask appeared from behind you. “It is you! Didn’t think I’d find you here out of all places,” he laughed. You weakly smiled, hurriedly wiping your mouth with a napkin and reaching for your glass. “I could say the same for you, Mr. I-Prefer-Video-Games.”

His sweet laugh sent blood rushing up to your cheeks. “Alright, point taken. Peer pressure?” he asked, casually stuffing his hands in his slacks.

“Peer pressure,” you confirmed with a nod, your lips spreading into a smile with him returning the gesture. “Mind if I join?” Your heart started beating erratically, and you attempted to imperceptibly wipe your sweaty palms on your dress. “S-sure.”

To both of your surprises, a conversation filled with lame jokes and belly laughs occupied the rest of your night. You both revisited the food table countless times, your overstacked empty plates evidently on the table. Your newest dishes were long finished and your conversation had hit a dull end but was replaced with the inevitable slow ballads. You broke your gaze from him and looked at the mountain of plates seemingly about to fall. He awkwardly cleared his throat and uttered words you wouldn’t have imagined hearing in a million years:

“Would you like to dance?”

You abruptly whipped your head back up to meet his hopeful gaze, his hand slightly outstretched. When you didn’t give an immediate response and in return intently stared at his hand, he slowly withdrew it. “I-I’m sorry, I thought you were comfor–”

You quickly grabbed his hand, his mouth slightly agape and eyes widened. “N-no! I… would like to dance with you,” you stammered out, scanning the ground to avoid his gaze (and hide your flushed face). He broke out into a toothy grin, his eyes crinkling into crescents. He swiftly stood up, angling his arm for you to take. “Shall we?” You tried to hold back a smile as your hand slowly touched the crook of his elbow.

“We shall.” You slowly made your way through the dance floor.

“Then what happened?!” your friend practically shouted in your ear despite being on the opposite bed. You covered both sides of your head and winced, “Easy, Y/F/N! I’m getting there!” She let out an exasperated sigh and frustratingly ran her fingers through her hair. “This is what happens when you leave me the second we stepped foot in the dance,” you teased. She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “They practically dragged me! And I probably would have been a third wheel anyways.”

You laughed. “I kid, I kid,” you shifted on the bed, pulling your pillow closer to your body. “My arms were around his neck, and his were around my waist. We just… danced,” you dreamily sighed, reminiscing the past events. The way your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, the light sensation of his breath on your cheek, the smoothness of your steps, the –

Your friend edged you on, “And?!” You snapped out of last night’s memories and hid the bottom half of your face behind your pillow. “That’s – that’s it,” you shyly mumbled from behind your pillow. Your friend groaned, “That’s it? Girl, you were left alone with the Joshua Hong, adored by essentially every female on campus, and that’s… it?” She straightened her back. “We’re scoring you on a date.”

Your jaw went slack. “A date? This joke is almost as good as convincing me Mingyu and Wonwoo were a thing.”

“Well, doesn’t it seem like it?” She shrugged, “and oh, please! He’s totally into you!” She leaned over. “Joshua Hong whose nose is constantly buried in books when he’s studying and immersed in video games when he’s not, was dancing. With you. You can’t tell me otherwise, Y/N,” she crossed her arms and smirked. You rolled your eyes, “We only bonded because some,” you gestured to your friend, “people pressured us into going. That’s it,” you concluded, letting out a small sigh almost inaudible that your friend might have heard if only she was focused. You tried to ignore the disappointment and dull throb in your chest. That was only the reason why, right?

She already threw open your closet doors and started rummaging for an appropriate outfit. “Oh, hush. My friend is having a small outing this weekend, and guess who’s coming along?” You stared incredulously at her hunched back. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, right?”

“I was told I could bring a friend if I want.” She stopped midway and turned around to face you. “You in?”

You sighed, closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the wall. There was just no way of talking her out of this. “Get the skirt out.”

Saturday came rolling around; it was already a full week after that fated night. You and your friend were technically already running late, but since a big number was involved, you still ended up waiting for a few more to show up. Your eyes casually scanned the enlarging group.

“Try to hide your disappointment,” your friend laughed from beside you. You flushed and glared at her. “Don’t give me away!” you angrily whispered. Her teasing gaze soon melted as her eyes went past you. “One o’clock,” she subtly jutted out her jaw.

You turned around and reflexively adjusted your hair and outfit. He was with his own group of friends but his aura stood out the most with his center placement. The light breeze gently pushed back his light brown bangs, revealing more of his flawless skin and nicely shaped eyebrows that shaped his catlike chocolate eyes you could still recall from the dance. He was only wearing a simple white and light blue striped button-up paired with blue skinny jeans and sneakers, but he always managed to make everything look like it was created for him.

“Wow,” you breathed, starstruck and oblivious to your friend’s knowing look. She nudged your shoulder. “You’re boring a hole through him. Take it easy,” she playfully grinned. “Hey guys,” one of Joshua’s friends waved once they joined the group. “Great, everyone’s here! Let’s start heading to the amusement park,” your friend’s friend announced, who you assumed was the one who organized the get-together.

You along with at least fourteen other people began walking to the bus stop, having ten minutes to spare. You were in the middle of conversing with your friend when you felt a figure sidle up next to you. Someone lightly tapped you on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you met Joshua’s smile once you turned your head to the left. Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t –

You felt a nudge on your right. “H-hi!” He chuckled, taking in the sight of the subtle pink tint on your cheeks. “I haven’t seen you since last week.”

I wonder why. You cleared your throat and looked up at him, “Yeah, funny how we meet again here.” You heard a small snicker on your right and side-eyed your friend who was covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah, what a coincidence!” He laughed unknowingly. “Do you like going to amusement parks?” You nodded, deep in thought. “I’m such a homebody,” you gave a small laugh, “but when I’m in the mood to go out, I like going to fun places.” He raised an eyebrow. “Fun? What’s your definition of fun?”

You leaned against the bus stop construction. “Well, for starters,” you began. You and Joshua had once again launched into a lighthearted conversation even after you had arrived at the amusement park. While getting off, you tried to ignore your friend throwing you cheeky looks as her eyes constantly went back and forth between the both of you standing together. Your bodies were closely confined on the packed bus, so much that you couldn’t help but duck your head in embarrassment if having made eye contact with him for more than three full seconds. Your faces were close enough you could see every long lash each time he blinked or gave you his side profile. You gulped and glanced back at your friend who was too immersed in texting someone. Once Joshua found a new topic to bring up, you silently cursed at your friend and turned back to him and relaxed your facial features.

Now, as the group waited in line for tickets, you stood with Joshua, your friend not too far ahead. Once you made your purchase, you started making your way to her, assuming that he would do the same. You walked a few steps only to have a hand on your arm stop you. You found a slightly bashful Joshua, his other free hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you… wanna go on the rides together?” his voice slightly wavered.

Wide-eyed, you gaped at him, hastily throwing your head back to look for your friend. Her mouth was open but quickly closed it and gave you a thumbs-up while nodding frantically. You looked at the ground before slowly turning back to him. “I’d love that,” you smiled. He beamed, slowly letting go of your arm. With arms brushing, you both made your way to the park with smiles on your faces.

Joshua made every wait in line bearable and every ride enjoyable. For the first time in forever, you couldn’t stop talking about – well, anything. The topics ranged from what your plans after college were to a joke your professor made the other day. The sun rays weren’t the only things making you feel warm; you felt it in your chest every time you and Joshua shared a good laugh, and you tried to soak in every detail about him, from the little crinkles of his eyes to the way he excitedly pointed out more thrilling rides for you to go on. When it would get too crowded and you would be occasionally pushed by strangers, you stumbled back into Joshua who was always readily to catch you by the shoulders. “Easy there,” he would always say with a light chuckle, “You okay?” Your faces would be too close for comfort, resulting in you withdrawing from him and glancing at the ground. “I’m fine,” you would always mumble.

In between all the rides, you would grab some food and eventually sat down for a proper lunch at some point. Due to the ridiculous overpriced food and beverages, you shared a fish and chips but each got a separate water bottle. Whenever you stumbled upon a game Joshua found interesting, he would drag you to one and declare he would win a prize for you. In all the games you went to, he was only able to win at a basketball shooting game and gifted you with an adorable white baby seal. You couldn’t help but to break out into a wide grin the rest of the day every time you looked down at the stuffed animal in your hands. You were too captivated by the cuteness of the seal and the memories behind that you failed to catch Joshua’s soft smile and endearing gaze.

Once the group had gotten off at the bus stop, it was already sunset. Most of the group had already dispersed with everyone going in their own direction – all but you, your friend, Joshua, and his friends. You and Joshua reluctantly turned to each other and bid each other goodbye. Before you could turn away to walk back to your friend, he quickly embraced you. You froze in shock for a second before wrapping your arms around him. He pulled away and you both gave each other a smile before turning the opposite way.

The moment he was out of earshot, your friend wiggled her eyebrows, “Ooooh, I saw your little touchy interaction.” You laughed to cover your burning cheeks, “Stop that! It was just a friendly hug.” “Don’t lie to me! I saw the both of you whispering. What did he say?” she bounced on her toes.

You smiled. “Oh, nothing. He just said today was fun.” Your friend pouted. “Whatever. Let’s head home – my feet are killing me. You’re gonna have to catch me up on everything, missy.”

I can’t wait to do this again, his voice still rang in your ears, I keep missing you.

Then come and find me.

“And here we have the Temple of Emerald Buddha!” Your tour guide gestured to the scenery. A burst of “oohs” and “ahhs” filled the hall with a series of shutters and snaps from flashing cameras.

You joined the camera snapping and soon drifted your camera focus to the tour guide. He was practically a work of art himself; a jawline like that wasn’t given to just anyone. You subtly snapped a photo and dropped your camera clinging on to your neck. There was no need to embarrass you further in a foreign country, not to mention in an arm’s length of a cute boy.

The tour continued with frequent meal and restroom breaks accompanied by the relentless clicking of camera shutters and bright flashes. You (and all the other females concentrated on the tour bus) quickly caught on to the tour guide’s all-too-natural flirtiness, i.e., greasy lines that were always similar to “this monument is timelessly beautiful but not comparable to the ladies here, right?” followed by a wink and a chorus of dreamlike “ahhs.” He even tried directly sending you one but you wouldn’t even bat an eyelash; after all, he gets paid to be appealing to the crowd, and who knows how many girls he’s had?

The tour bus soon slowed down in front of the morning location of the check-in near your hotel. There was only a matter of time before the sun would completely disappear below the horizon, and the only thing on your mind was hitting the shower and deep, deep sleep. You and the passengers were filing out and heading back to their respective rooms when someone abruptly tugged on your arm.

I swear, can’t I just get some peace? Irritated, you huffed and turned to tell the person off when you were met with a cheery smile. “What is it?” You snapped, “I need to get ready for tomorrow.” His smile wavered but he still managed to keep it upright. “I think you might have left this on the bus, right?” he inquired with a chuckle, holding out a camera. Your eyes widened and you considered bolting. The first words you uttered to this extremely attractive boy had almost scared him off when he was only trying to help. You reluctantly reached out for his outstretched hand. “…Thanks,” you muttered, avoiding eye contact and hurried off to the hotel. He watched as you go with a slight smirk. What an odd girl.

“Okay, everyone!” The same enthusiastic voice cheered after breakfast was served. “You’re probably sick of being around these same people by now,” he said, earning a round of laughter. “You’ll be encountering more mammals today – many, many,” he breathed out, “many elephants,” another round of laughter, “at Thailand’s Khao Yai National Park! But not just elephants – there are plenty of other exotic species waiting for you to explore. Let’s start filing on the bus,” he gestured.

As you were waiting for the long queue to shorten, you waited to get him alone and hesitantly approached him. He was in the midst of checking for any passengers left behind and was nothing short of surprised to see you beside him. “Hey,” you started shyly, still feeling the leftover embarrassment, “I’m sorry about last night. I was a little cranky from fatigue and all that,” you genuinely admitted and looked in his eyes. “I really do appreciate you returning my camera back though.” His mouth slightly opened before he broke out into a grin, “Ahh, that? Don’t worry about it!” He waved his hand. “It happens to the best of us. I hope you don’t mind I went through your photos to confirm you were the owner.” He suddenly bent down to whisper in your ear, “There was a lot of nice scenery on it. But you know, if you wanted models, no need to be shy with me.” You could practically hear his infamous smirk lodged in his words. Your face furiously flushed red, knowing too well he was referring to that one picture. “I-I was just checking to see if my camera worked!” You defensively crossed your arms. “The button sometimes acts up,” you huffed and turned around to scatter up the stairs but nearly tripped over your feet. You failed to catch the grin he did to himself as he watched you disappear up the stairs.

This will be interesting, you both thought.

Disappointingly enough, the week long tour was drawing to an end, and there was an air of bitter-sweetness among the passengers. The tour guide sadly smiled, “I hope you enjoyed your time at Thailand, everyone. It was a great pleasure serving you,” he deeply bowed while the passengers clapped. “I hope you enjoyed your stay at Thailand. Please do not hesitate to return!” He squeezed in his final words before the bus slowed down to a stop and opened the doors. You felt a tug in your chest, but all you could do was focus on the back of someone’s head as you made your way down the stairs. Your hotel building now seemed to be looming over your head. Dejected, you sighed and threw away all your short-lived regrets in the foreign country.

You arrived in front of the two heavy doors. Once you entered, you knew whatever hopes and romanticized dreams would not travel with you back home.

There was no choice but to choose the –

“Wait!” Your ears twitched. Your head swiveled around, but you didn’t see anyone. Great, you thought. I’m becoming more delusional the longer I stay here. You raised your right arm, hovering over the door handles when you heard it again, this time much clearer and apparent than the last. “Wait, don’t go yet!” You fully turned your body in the direction of the voice.

“The tour guide?” You whispered in disbelief as the distance between you two rapidly closed. His hands rested on his knees, his head bent down, his chest heaving. Needless to say, he was a hot mess.

“I,” he started between gasps, “I was wondering if you were free later today or tomorrow?” He glanced up, his face contorted from the unexpected exercise. You stared at him. Today? The sun had long set. Tomorrow? You were only hours away from departing from the country. There was simply no time, and as much as you wanted to hit yourself for turning down your one shot at romance, you knew there was no way it would have worked out to begin with. As if he was sensing your concerns, he asked, “When do you go back?”

You hesitated before admitting, “Ten.”

“We have plenty of time! We could go to–”

“In the morning.”

“…”

“Oh. Well, that’s no time at all.”

He pulled out his phone and squinted at the screen. “Well, it’s nine now so… we would only have thirteen hours before your flight.” His eyes twinkled as the seemingly permanent smirk returned. “How about we hit a night market in the capital?”

UH, HELLO, YES, LET’S GO Y/N, your heart was pounding.

Girl, you have to be insane to be going out this late at night. You need rest; it’s a long trip back, your brain countered.

You’re about to go on a once-in-a-lifetime date with the hottest guy here. You deserve to live a little!

You need to call it a night already! You’re about to leave this guy and this place in just a bit over half a day.

“You… still there?” He waved his hand in front of your face. You snapped back and mentally facepalmed yourself. You lost count of how many times you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him. “D-don’t you have a job to get back to?” He shrugged, “I was booked this entire week exclusively for this tour. As far as my schedule shows, I’m not needed until mid-afternoon tomorrow.” He looked down at you with a playful grin. “Any more excuses I need to battle?”

“Shouldn’t you be going over your future tours?”

“Orientation,” he air quoted with his fingers, “isn’t until an hour or so beforehand, which isn’t until 1 PM at the earliest, doll.”

“Don’t you need to check in with your boss?”

“What’s there to check in with? I’m still technically booked with your tour as of right now, and as long as I show up to my next orientation to my appointment, I’m still doing my job.”

“Don’t you–”

“Babe, please, enough with these questions,” he laughed, your face burning at the mention of the pet name he casually threw out. “Are you in?” He held out his palm.

How deja vu. Your eyes flickered between his relaxed features and his hand.

“I… don’t even know your name.”

His eyes softened with his smile. “Junhui. Wen Junhui.”

Well… how often do you get to go on a date with a cute foreign boy?

You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders. “Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s start heading there now,” you smiled and grasped his hand.

One hectic taxi ride later, you and Junhui were jumping stall to stall, exploring all of Thailand’s unique and different foods. You and Junhui also got closer, both physically and emotionally. The crowded streets left no room for you have a personal bubble. Meanwhile, Junhui used up the excuse of the crowd as much as he could to justify his proximity to you, his hand tugging on your waist. You would be lying if you said you minded the close contact; his scent was too intoxicating. Between all of the stall-hopping, you had managed to snag countless dishes to bring back home all while trying to inhale the food Junhui was feeding you and vice versa. His arm consistently took turns around your shoulders and waist (and him still claiming it was because he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd). You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date, but anything you couldn’t recall was what Junhui so proudly reminded you about (and the fact that he kept taking selfies with you so you wouldn’t forget anything). The light feeling in your chest whenever you both shared a laugh and how your hands would tightly intertwine when he would get tired of holding up his arm suddenly carried a heavier weight when the night drew closer to an end. You knew you would have to resume your normal life once you returned to your room, and even moreso once you entered the gates.

Junhui looked down at you worriedly, noticing you had gone quiet. He lightly squeezed your hand. “Something on your mind?” You shook your head, smiling sadly. “Are you sure?” You raised your head to meet his anxious eyes. “No, just… I had a good time today. Thanks for that getaway,” you squeezed his hand back. Sensing the underlying reason of your forlornness, he slowed down in his tracks and stepped in front of you. You quizzically tilted your head while he sighed and for the first time that night, dropped his gaze to the floor.

“There are probably – no, there are many things that we don’t know about each other,” he stated. You held your breath; he looked utterly serious and conflicted yet determined from the look of his eyebrows narrowing. “And I know what kind of image you had of me before tonight.” You opened up your mouth to protest but he snapped his head back up to you to silence whatever words that were now caught in your throat. “I know you thought of me as just a playboy, someone who doesn’t know how to commit.” You anxiously wrung your hands as he continued.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.” You almost took a step back from the shock. “What?”

He laughed dryly. “I never even held hands before – well,” he held up your intertwined fingers. “I never dated, I never asked anyone out, I never even called anyone ‘babe’ or ‘baby,’” he shyly rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks dangerously warming. There was still something you were unsure about. “So why?” Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Why what?” “Why do all of this tonight on me… a girl you’re probably never meeting again?”

He gaped at you before chuckling and merely doing his light hearted shrug. “Life is short, right? I knew from the moment I took on this job that I wouldn’t have the time to have a girlfriend. No matter how many winks I send, it’s all just for show, part of the charismatic tour guide I’m expected to be.” You nodded understandingly. You were curious as to why he chose this particular path, but before you got to ask, he commented, “And why would I pass up getting to know a beautiful girl like you?” You winced and hit him on the shoulder laughing. “Okay, easy on the grease, Mr. Smooth Talker. Well, you’re right about life being too short. I would know that better than anyone else,” you gazed at the glowing city. Completely oblivious to Junhui’s stare, you murmured, “Let’s head back to the hotel. It’s nearly midnight.” You tugged on his arm and started taking a few steps but you were suddenly pulled back and landed straight in a warm embrace.

A million thoughts buzzed in your head. What was he doing? Why was he hugging you? Do you hug back? Do you do nothing? He stroked your hair comfortingly, as if he somehow knew the unspoken secrets that escaped into the night. You didn’t know why, but tears prickled the back of your eyes, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his torso. No words were exchanged, but you seemed to already know everything about him, and he about you. The walk back was only in comfortable silence with your arms lazily swinging.

You checked out of your hotel the next morning and began heading to the airport with your carry-on in one hand. You stopped and turned back to face the building one last time. The building where so little yet so much had happened – you were about to leave. You chuckled to yourself in astonishment and shook your head, thinking how this one-week trip had just so badly affected you. You smiled bitterly at the hotel and headed to your destination again for good.

You were waiting in line for security check, and once you were through, you would have to force yourself to part with this beautiful country. You still had a decent amount of people before you, but you were critically nearing the front of the line.

“Y/N!”

You froze. Did he seriously…

You turned your head in the opposite direction, and your eyes widened. Junhui was racing down the airport from practically the other end. He’s out of his mind. You began moving up the line as the proximity between you and him decreased. “Junhui! What are you doing here?” He only grasped your forearm and maintained eye contact stronger than ever. “Are we really just leaving things off like this?”

You were only a person away now. “Junhui, please, we both knew this wasn’t really going to work out!” You pleaded with your eyes. “Y/N, you and I both know you’re lying,” his voice cracked. “Next in line,” the security guard called. “I need to go,” you grabbed your carry-on and made your way down to the metal detector. “I’m going to the States soon! Where can I catch you?” Junhui desperately moved down to follow your figure.

He caught one last glimpse of you, a defeated smile hanging on your lips. “San Diego,” you uttered before disappearing.

The moment you stepped foot on familiar ground, you were already getting bombarded with text messages and messages on social media. You sighed and put away your phone, a reminder of how much time had passed. You were greeted by your family and friends and launched into a narrative of just how crazy things were (excluding a certain brown-haired boy).

Despite having only been gone for a week, you found it more difficult to adjust back than you would like to admit. A day had passed, then a month, and it now has been over two months since your enchanting experience. You were in the middle of completing your education program to get your teacher credentials and had happily stumbled upon Joshua along the way. You both were planning on becoming kindergarten teachers and made an additional goal to even co-teach someday. You couldn’t deny the lingering feelings you harbored for him for years, but your mind always lingered back to the foreign boy at the end of the day. You shook your head to erase such thoughts so often to the point where Joshua thought you were feeling a little under the weather.

Your friends from college were also slowly transitioning into their new careers, a crucial stepping stone in their professional lives. If it weren’t for Joshua’s company, you wouldn’t be much social, if at all. You and Joshua had gotten significantly closer, and it seemed like every hangout was more than what the name let on.

You two were at your regular weekly cafe “hangout” to help destress in a change of pace from life. You visited the shop so often the staff knew you two by names (and indirectly as a couple). From the way your latte art was always some form of a heart or how you and Joshua coincidentally seemed to have similar fashion tastes, there was always something to tease the both of you about. You secretly just wanted to stop denying it, but the way Joshua coolly deflected the cooing and playful banter made you feel just a little hopeless. For now, you only settled on being coworkers.

“Mingyu was back at it again,” you shared, shaking your head as you blew on your drink. “For a giant, he’s so clumsy.” Joshua’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, making your heart skip a beat. “He’s got the biggest heart out of all of us, that’s for sure.” Conversations like this with Joshua were always a part of your coffee talks, ranging from what you saw Mingyu knocking something over to later weekend plans. It was a nice time to relax and take a breather, and Joshua was more than enough to provide that for you. After spending approximately an hour chatting your troubles away, you and Joshua got up and discarded your plastic cups.

“It’s getting a little late,” Joshua glanced at the setting sun. “I can walk you home.” You furiously blushed, hoping you would play it off as just irritation from the wind. “I’m alright; I’m only a block away the opposite direction from you!”

“No no, it’s ok, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Joshua, it’s literally a five-minute walk.”

“Y/N, I insist.”

“Joshua, no.”

“Joshua, yes.”

“Joshua! I’ll be fine,” you shook your head and laughed, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Okay, okay!” He smiled, rubbing his arm. You exchanged a hug that you wished could last longer and turned to be on your way when he suddenly grabbed your arm. You looked back to see him hesitantly clearing his throat. “Do… do you wanna go for another hangout?”

You stared at him. “Well, we just did, didn’t we?” He shook his head. “No, I mean, not just for coffee. Do you,” he slowly chose his words, “want to make this into dates?”

You could only gape at him. Your crush for who knows how long had just asked you out. You expected to be overwhelmingly ecstatic, but all you felt was conflicted and confused. “Joshua, I–”

“Y/N!”

Both of your heads turned to the source of the familiar voice. You did a double take; were you seeing what you thought you were seeing?

Standing in a ten-feet radius from you was the same foreign boy you were so certain you had left along with your heart. A white tee peeked out from underneath his open blue and green plaid button up with interlaced specks of yellow. The rough light blue denim hugged his legs a little too well. Junhui was a walking image of a model constantly on the runway in contrast to Joshua’s more reserved lighter tones in exchange. Joshua’s baby pink sweater and white jeans reflected his calming demeanor. Perhaps the only thing they had in common were how they opted for sneakers to finish off their unique styles of casual, and well…

They were both vying for your attention at the same place and time.

“J-Junhui?” You stuttered as he advanced towards the two of you. He offered you a smile and curiously sized up the opposing male. “Who is this?”

Joshua looked baffled to say the least, but nonetheless he released your arm and politely introduced himself. “Well, I suppose I should be asking you that, but I’m Joshua. And you are?”

“Junhui.” They stiffly shook hands. Your eyes flickered between the two men, a strange heavy air replacing the once light atmosphere. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be–” Junhui cut you off, “I said I was going to catch you, didn’t I?” He flashed his signature smirk. Joshua, who was witnessing this strange ordeal unfold, awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sorry… Junhui, but I need to speak to her alone.”

Junhui’s eyes never left yours. “It took me some time to get settled down here, but well, here I am.” Your head started to throb, and to make matters worse (or better?), Joshua’s hand landed on your arm once more. “Y/N, you don’t look so good. Here, I’ll walk you home.” He started to guide you to your apartment, but Junhui grabbed a hold of your other elbow. “I just saw her for the first time after being away for two months. Can you give us some alone time?”

Joshua narrowed his eyes. “Can’t you see she’s not feeling well? She’s as pale as ice! She needs to rest right now.” He tugged on your arm. Junhui tugged back. “I don’t think you have the right to be saying what Y/N needs and doesn’t need.” He turned to you. “Y/N, who do you want to talk to?” “Yeah, who?”

You could only gape, dumbfounded at the strange outcome. “I… I just need to go home.” Joshua reached out a hand to you. “Alone.” Before they could grab a hold of you and say “wait,” you were already briskly crossing the street.

“No. Way!”

“I can’t believe it either!” You groaned in your pillow. “How did this even happen? And in one day?”

“Honey, you’re a total babe magnet!” Your friend sat on the other side of the bed facing you. “The Joshua Hong and a cute foreign boy both want you! I thought this only happens in the movies.” You threw your pillow at her. “Now is not the time! I don’t want this to happen at all! I thought it was absolutely final once I returned here that I would cast away everything that happened in that country. I was finally able to progress further with my relationship with Joshua, and now…”

“You can’t get over someone who never left,” she pointed out. “I know you, Y/N. He’s been on your mind since day one.” You sighed, not wanting to admit she was right. “I don’t know what to do.”

She leaned back on the headboard. “Look, maybe you just need to take a break and think about it. Who really has been there for you? Who makes you feel more… you? Those are the real questions here. You obviously like both of them, so now take a step back and really reflect on who truly is the one.” You placed your head on her shoulder and heaved a sigh again. Comparing Joshua and Junhui was nothing different to comparing apples and oranges; they were just too different.

“I’ll just sleep on it. I’m turning off the lights,” you mumbled. Several minutes had passed after and you heard a soft whisper.

“Hey, Y/N?

“Yes?”

“You’re an amazing girl. And if they fail to see that, then neither of them are worth your time.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Y/F/N.”

“Sweet dreams.”

A week had passed, and you managed to avoid both Junhui and Joshua, the latter being more difficult since you saw him practically every day. You knew you had to face the music someday, but you still had feelings to sort out. You always timed yourself to leave a lot earlier than Joshua who was miraculously held back to do other errands at times. It had worked fine — until today.

“Y/N, wait up!” You only quickened your pace but he was quick to catch up to you. “We need to talk.” “Joshua, what is there to even talk about?” You gazed intently at the concrete. “Things have been crazy, and I’m just not ready.” “Y/N, look at me.” Nothing. “Y/N.”

He gently but firmly held your chin and turned your head to face him. “I don’t know what happened with you and that guy, but I do know that I want to be with you. I always have ever since college. I was a fool to wait this long to ask you, but now that I have, I can’t just back down now.” You opened your mouth to say something, but you heard a voice that wasn’t your own.

“Y/N.”

Why do we keep meeting like this? You shook your head and heard footsteps nearing you from behind. “Joshua.” “Junhui.”

“Guys, I just need more time. You can’t expect me to give a straight response after dumping this on me.” You pulled yourself out of Joshua’s grasp and started backing away. “Y/N, I don’t mean to rush you, I really don’t, but I don’t have much time here left.” Junhui stepped closer to you. “What do you mean?” He sighed. “I’m returning to Thailand tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!”

He held up his hands. “I know, I know! It’s sudden, but so was this visit,” he sheepishly admitted. “My boss let me go for this week, but no more than that. I’m leaving tomorrow night.” Joshua piped up, “Don’t just force her to be quick with this. These things take time!” Junhui coldly shot back, “Stay out of this, Jello Boy. You act so soft around her, but we all know your motives.” Joshua’s jaw hardened. “At least I don’t show up spontaneously and suddenly expect her to willingly follow me around!” “Listen, Pretty Boy, I actually knew her longer–”

“Stop! Both of you!” You raised your voice, ceasing their argument. “If you both truly liked me, you would respect my decision and just stop with this pettiness. I’m not your toy you can keep tugging on and not expecting it to fall apart.” Your vision started to blur. From what, you had no idea. Was it your tears? Were you about to faint?

You took too long.

“Y/N. Y/N!” Their voices became more distant. Your body felt heavy yet light. Was this how death was? You could only see darkness invading your vision and let it consume you as your eyelids drooped.

“Y/N. Y/N, can you hear me?”

You slowly started to regain your senses and felt immobile. Your chest felt as heavy as a weight, your throat was in desperate need of a drink, and your head was throbbing. Your eyes fluttered open to see your friend.

“Thank god you’re alright!” She buried your head in her chest. “I was so worried!” You lazily looked around the room, careful to not strain your neck. “What happened? Where is this?” She withdrew from the hug. “We’re in the local hospital. You fainted from fatigue and stress. The doctor told me to have you take it easy for the next several days in order for you to regain your strength. Don’t worry; it’s nothing major. A proper diet and rest should be just the trick.”

Your thoughts fumbled over. There was something you were forgetting, but you couldn’t recall. You could only shrug it off and felt your eyelids closing again.

You were finally discharged and plopped yourself on your welcoming sofa. “I’m never leaving here again.” Your friend giggled, “That may be a good idea. You need to take care of yourself better, Y/N. I know finals have been a little hectic lately, but–”

Finals. You saw flashbacks of a black dress and mask. Your friend stopped mid-sentence when she saw your alarmed expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this sounds a little weird, but do I happen to own a mask?” She stared at you. “Honey, I think you need to go back to that hospital.” “Y/F/N, I’m serious. Do I?” She tilted her head, chin in her hand. “You would think I would see you own one. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I passed by a shop and thought it looked nice.” She got up and shook her head. “You probably need more rest. I’ll prepare some soup for you. Need me to get anything from the market?” You shook your head. “You have cash on you?” She jokingly stretched out her palm.

You got another flashback, but this time it was at a dark crowded area. Someone fed you, hugged you, and carried your bag. And they were all the same person.

She put down her hand. “I was just joking, dude. You really need to get more rest; you’re not looking too hot.” She was in the middle of putting on her shoes before you called out, “Wait! I’ll just go. I need some fresh air.” She gave you a look. “I’m not sure if I trust you being out in this state of mind. You seem to be pretty out of it.” “I’m fine! I need to clear up my mind. I might as well run some errands along the way.” She sighed before moving out of the way. “If you don’t come back in an hour and a half, I’m calling the cops.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you shouted over your shoulder as you shut the door.

You passed by the local cafe, but your feet naturally slowed down. What am I doing here? Hm, I suppose it looks nice. I’ll check it out another day. You were about to head further down the street when you abruptly collided into someone.

“Sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You looked up to see familiar cat eyes. “Oh, it’s…. Fine. I wasn’t – I was just–” Why did he look so familiar?

He laughed at your words. “You weren’t either, I’m guessing?” You blushed. “Yes, that.” He briefly nodded, a grin ghosting his lips. “Well, sorry about that again. I’ll be on my way.” He resumed walking when you grabbed his arm on impulse. He glanced at your arm, bewildered, your action surprising the both of you. “Sorry, but… Have I seen you around before?”

He sweetly laughed before teasingly said, “Is that a pick-up line?” Your cheeks flamed, making him laugh even more. “I’m joking. I don’t think we’ve ever met. I would remember a face like yours. Let’s say your pick-up line worked though.” He mysteriously smiled and scribbled something on his napkin before handing it to you and stalking off.

You shook your head. You were clearly not in the right state of mind today. Everything seemed to be in a constant loop of major deja vu. You turned to resume your supermarket trip but you couldn’t help but to notice a figure leaning on the side of a building. The way his leg was casually rested on the wall as he sipped his coffee cup screamed “model.”

His eyes landed on yours and you felt a tug in your chest. Why am I acting like this? I don’t even know these people… He smirked, and with that came a stronger tug. “Babe, if you’re staring me down like that, you might as well ask me what you came here for,” he chuckled. You reeled back in confusion. Babe?

“Well, if you’re not gonna ask, then I probably should. Do you wanna hit the open market?” You hesitated. “I don’t even know your name.”

His smile softened. “Junhui. Wen Junhui.”

You held up a hand. “I have to let my friend know first.” You quickly sent her a message and tucked your phone back in.

“You still live with her?” You froze. How does he…

“I was in your Chemistry class. I always heard the two of you talking. I was also in the same high school as you, surprise surprise.” He peeked at your face to find any signs of you remembering.

You racked your brain, looking for a face like his in your memories. However, he cut your train of thought. “Are you in?” You took a hold of his hand. “Let’s go.”

He unlocked his phone to check the time. What you didn’t catch was the familiar scene of two people at a night market on his lockscreen.

All the doves and peacocks soon started to disappear. Before she knew it, only one dove and one peacock stood in front of her. She took in each bird carefully.

The dove. Elegant and calm, very predictable. She felt a sense of serenity wash over her. She felt safe and stable.

The peacock. The flashy colors drew her attention, as well as the puff in its chest. Wild, charismatic. She felt a rush of adrenaline, something to always keep on her on her toes. “They’re both lovely.”

Choose before it’s too late.

A looming clock started its countdown. 20… 19… 18…

With every predictable thing, there’s always a tiny possibility of the unexpected.

10… 9… 8…

With every wild and confident thing, there’s always a tiny possibility of tameness and insecurity.

Make your decision now.

She reached her hand out slowly, using up every bit of her last seconds. She was just about to touch the bird when the room flashed a brilliant white. Her time was up.

A single blue, green, and yellow feather floated down.

87 notes · View notes