#my old one was like a giant beanbag almost. so if you lifted one side. all the weight would fall to the other side

[peapod20001]

Got a new weighted blanket that has the eight evenly distributed throughout instead of everything falling to one end <3

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth — I.II: Curosity Killed the Cat

pairing(s):  Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre:  Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, descriptions of death and murder, mentions of blood, mentions of traumatic experiences, mention of reader having an anxiety attack, etc.

word count: 6,6k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“Jihyo, please just—OW!” Pain shoots like electricity through your limbs as your hip catches the railing of the stairwell while your ankle rolls dangerously along the edge of the top step. You cling to your roommate’s shoulders, trying to find balance in the midst of her steel-like grip to avoid inevitably breaking a bone… or your entire body.  

“Shit. Sorry, (Y/N).” Jihyo murmurs apologetically, hoisting your arm higher around her shoulders. You bite back a frustrated retort and instead, find the patience to allow your support to haul you toward your shared apartment’s door. There’s honestly no need for Jihyo’s help in scaling the stairways, seeing as somehow, after the incident in the alleyway, you were completely unscathed, but she insisted. And when Jihyo puts her mind to something, there’s no pulling her out. 

Jihyo kicks open the door after unlocking it, and tugs you forward with a proud grin, “Home sweet home. All in one piece.” 

“The bruise on my hips says otherwise,” You groan, breathing a sigh of relief when you finally escape her hold. “I think I’m more hurt than I was in the actual hospital.” 

“Hush, child.” Jihyo drags the warm jacket from your shoulders before bending down to undo the laces of your boots. You sigh, but make no complaint about her fussing—you’d only receive another long lecture anyway. After another minute or two, Jihyo finishes sliding off your boots and guides you into the living room. Your eyes meet the sight of Sana nestled inside the giant, olive beanbag cushion, and two unfamiliar girls settled on the sofa beside her. 

“Look who’s home!” Jihyo calls cheerfully, turning the three sets of eyes away from the Pretty Little Liars rerun playing on the TV screen and in your direction. In the blink of an eye, Sana leaps from her seat and throws herself against your body. You almost lose your balance from the force of impact, but manage to return her hug without fault. 

“I was so worried when Mark called us,” Sana’s arms tighten around your waist. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” 

“I’ll try,” You rub her back, “I’m okay, Sana.” 

“You should sit down, (Y/N).” You pull from your friend’s embrace to nod at Jihyo, accepting the spot on the sofa where one of the girls had given up for your benefit. You shoot her a grateful smile, receiving a shy one in return. 

“Oh, that’s right! (Y/N), Jihyo, this is Mina, and Momo—” Sana points to each girl with their respected names, “the friends from my high school in Japan I was telling you guys about. They’re visiting for a few weeks.” 

“Welcome to Moon Dye,” Jihyo nods politely. “Sorry about all this chaos right off the bat. (Y/N), here, managed to land herself in the hospital last night.”

“It’s a long story.” You chuckle, your cheeks growing hot at both Mina and Momo’s concerned stares. “But I’m perfectly fine. Good as new.” 

“What even happened, (Y/N)?” Sana asks curiously while lowering onto the arm of the couch beside you. You open your mouth to answer, but Jihyo’s voice emerges instead: 

“(Y/N)’s already had a rough enough night as it is. Let’s not put her on the spot.” Again, you try to protest your good health, but the girls had already moved to a new subject by the time you open your mouth. 

To be honest, you still don’t believe the story that you fell in that dark alley, hit your head and knocked yourself out—the one that everyone is shoving down your throat. Even Mark didn’t believe you when you tried to explain the details you remember from last night. His words were similar to the very ones that Jinyoung had said: ‘You hit your head, (Y/N). Your memory is probably all sorts of fucked up.’ 

But he’s wrong. Jinyoung is wrong. Everyone else is wrong. You know you were attacked, and maybe you don’t know what it was, but someone—something tried to kill you. And it was pretty damn close… but that just begs another question: How the hell did you survive and come out with not even a scratch? 

“—was just so sudden. I just couldn’t believe it when I heard the news.” You return to reality just in time to see Jihyo shake her head, a pained expression written across her round face. “I mean, how does something like that just happen? You know?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Four pairs of eyes turn at your voice as Sana answers, “Im Nayeon was found dead in Eclipse Cemetery. My mom said she was killed by an animal.” You heard Mark mention Nayeon’s name a few times in past conversations, but had never spoken to the woman herself. She works in a tiny shop in Poison Square, Moon Dye Bay’s most infamous shopping complex, reading tarot cards and giving fortunes—she worked there, that is. Still, Mark and Nayeon were friends, so he must have known. Is that why he broke down at the hospital? But why wouldn’t he tell you? 

Your eyebrows furrow, “An animal? How is that possible?” 

“What goes around, comes around.” You perk up as one of Sana’s friends, Momo, you believe, speaks up for the first time. She returns your glance with a blank stare, which sends a violent chill up your spine, “It happens to the best of us.” 

“How can you say that?” You scoff, “A girl is dead—” 

“I’m so sorry,” The other friend, the one who relinquished her seat, Mina steps in this time, “My sister can be a little intense sometimes. She didn’t mean it in a condescending way.” 

“You’re sisters?” 

Mina shrugs, “Fostered, actually. We’ve kind of just… stuck together.” 

You nod, “I get it. I was a foster kid too.” Mina nods too, but doesn’t say anything in response. As she’s turning back to the surrounding trio, your eyes catch sight of a shiny, gold necklace tucked into the collar of her shirt. You can’t see the charm on the end, but just by the chain, it looked ancient. Probably a family heirloom of some sorts. 

Your mind returns back to Nayeon before wandering to your own attacker. At the connection, your blood runs cold. Is it possible that whatever monster that attempted to take your life had succeeded in ensnaring Nayeon’s instead? It may explain the reluctance toward your true story, and the attacker’s animal-like behavior… but what of your miraculous recovery? And what does Jinyoung have to do with any of this? 

Something is going on in Moon Dye Bye… and you’re going to find out what. 

“By the way, Momo, I love your tattoo.” You barely catch Jihyo’s comment as you rise from the sofa and begin to make your way toward your bedroom. You hadn’t gotten much sleep at the hospital, partly because of Mark, and partly because you just couldn’t find the will to close your eyes. To be honest, you don’t even know if you’ll be able to catch sleep in your own bed any better. Too lost in your own exhaustion, you don’t catch Sana’s laugh just as you’re shutting your bedroom door: 

“Momo doesn’t have a tattoo, Ji! Are you sure you’re not the one who hit her head!?” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

The fogginess of his dreamworld fades as Mark gradually begins to awaken from his slumber. He parts his eyelids, only to immediately shut them with an annoyed hiss as a ray of sunlight stabs into his sensitive pupils. To escape the day’s wrath, he rolls to his opposite side and away from the lone window, reminding himself to invest in a set of curtains in the near future. 

Mark forces his upper body upward on the sofa. He groans, the movement placing a strain on his back, and lifts his arms over his head to alleviate the knots of his muscles. With a sigh, Mark wipes the remnants of a poor night’s sleep from his face before glancing back to the window. Judging by the brightness of the sun, he must have slept through the entire morning and early afternoon. 

Mark sighs again, recalling the gruesome nightmares that plagued his slumber: Nayeon’s loud screams stabbing into his soul as an unfamiliar shadow drove a large knife into her immobile body over and over again until he could feel her blood splattering all across his skin. Then, in the midst of his terror, Nayeon’s face would shift to yours… and he could do nothing but watch as the monster stole the life from your eyes… 

He pushes the thought away, suddenly nauseous, and rises from the sofa, heading toward the small kitchenette in the corner to start up a pot of coffee. As he passes the window, Mark notices a couple figures congregating around an array of chipped, ancient headstones. At first, Mark believes them to be the forensic cleaners finishing up the removal of the crime scene, but he catches the sight of the back of Youngjae’s head… and someone he definitely does not want to see. 

“God fucking damnit—” He curses to himself, abandoning his coffee and stomping outside with the beginnings of a sneer pulling across his face. At the call of his name, both Youngjae and his companion turn to face Mark just as he reaches their meeting place, “What the hell is he doing here!?” 

“I’m sorry, hyung… I thought it’d be better if I didn’t tell you about this…” Mark glares at the younger who seems to shudder beneath its intensity. Youngjae looks down guiltily, before silently mumbling something to himself. 

“Don’t be upset with him,” At the voice, Mark shifts his angry gaze to the vampire. “I came on my own accord. I want to make a proposition.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding, right? Why would we ever want to make a deal with you?” 

“Because I can help you find out who killed your seer.” Jinyoung replies coolly, reaching inside the pocket of his casual, navy blazer to pull out a pocket-sized, leather-bound book with cream colored pages. He offers it to Mark, “This is an old journal that belonged to a powerful witch who was a descendant in a long line of Pagan Witchcraft. It contains thousands of ancient scriptures and symbols dating back to the first century.” 

Mark snatches the book and immediately begins to flip through it. None of the text encrypted along the pages are anything he’d ever seen before, likely being written in a different language. He allows the cover to shut and passes it to Youngjae before narrowing his eyes at Jinyoung, “How did you know we were looking for an old symbol?”  

“I have contacts at the morgue, so I paid her body a visit myself.” Mark bites back a frustrated slur and wills himself to let the vampire finish, “In all the centuries I’ve been alive, I have only seen a symbol like that once—in dark magic.” The loathing Mark feels for Jinyoung completely vanishes at the mention of the dark arts, shifting back into the nausea from before. “I believe whoever killed your seer drew power from something, be it a spell or an object, in order to gain enough strength to overpower her, which means—” 

“Whatever doing this is supernatural.” Youngjae finishes with a grimace, “They must have used dark magic to strip her of her powers before she was killed. I couldn’t trace any magic use from her body.” 

“She’s not the first.” Again, Jinyoung retracts a set of papers from his jacket and hands them to Mark, “I’ve traced hundreds of unexplained deaths in dozens of towns. Each witch had that same symbol carved into their chest.” 

“They’re specifically targeting covens— ” Mark breathes, glancing over the provided documents, “Slaughtering them and… fucking hell.” 

Jinyoung nods, “You and your people need to be careful. Whoever is doing this will try to kill again.” Mark hesitates for a moment before mindlessly closing his hand into a fist, crushing the papers in his grasp. He resumes his glare at the vampire. 

“What’s in it for you? Why are you helping us?” 

Jinyoung’s eyes soften, “This town has already seen enough death. I don’t wish for it to see anymore.” 

Jinyoung’s response delivers a harsh punch to Mark’s gut, leaving him almost breathless. Unwanted memories rush into his head like a parasite—the guilt he had pushed down so long ago beginning to eat away at his soul. Too lost inside his own head, Mark remains silent as Jinyoung and Youngjae exchange a couple final words, before the former gestures toward the book in the younger’s hands.

“I have places to be, but let me know if you manage to find the symbol. I’ll see if I can find more information about the murdered covens.” The vampire offers a nod of farewell and turns to leave, but surprising himself, Mark snaps from his headspace and calls out:

“Jinyoung…!” 

Jinyoung halts to peer over his shoulder, “Yes?” Mark hesitates again, somewhere in between what seems to be long-harbored resentment and mental exhaustion. His eyes glance toward the gravel pathway meters away where Nayeon’s corpse had laid only hours ago, until his mind shifts to thoughts about you: The warmth of your arms… The genuine promise of your voice… The gleam of your eyes… All of his anger immediately dissipates. 

He nods, “I don’t want anyone else to die either.” Jinyoung merely blinks in response before continuing his journey toward the exit of the cemetery. Mark watches his silhouette fade into the glare of the afternoon sun with the documents still tightly grasped in his palms. Only once the vampire is out of sight does he release a sigh and face his younger companion: 

“Call Minho, Jisung and Lia, and get them all here.” Mark combs a hand through his hair with a huff, “No one leaves my sight until we catch this fucker and put them so far underground, they won’t be able to climb back up from Hell.” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Splashes of water splatter across your ankles and wet the bottom of your jeans as you sprint through a massive array of puddles. Although it does little to protect your body from the pouring rain, you tug your jacket tighter around your shoulders. The one evening you choose to take a spur-of-the-moment book run to escape your overdramatic and overbearing roommates, it has to be raining cats and dogs. Luckily, the town’s only bookstore is not too far from your apartment. 

You manage to reach the shop just as the wind begins to pick up and hurriedly push past the door. A sigh falls past your lips, briefly pausing to relish the warm, rain-free atmosphere before receding further into the store. Ever since you moved to Moon Dye, the Bookshop of Lullabies has become one of few places you frequent often. It’s a quaint, little place stuffed from top to bottom with texts of all kinds, and barely enough space for a single person to squeeze through the aisles. If you travel deep enough through the maze of shelves, there’s a tiny nook complete with a window seat and throw cushions softer than a bed of silk—you like to spend a lot of your time cuddled up there with a nice book.  

“Look who finally decided to show up and cure my boredom. Good thing—I was just thinking about chewing my arm off.” Unsurprised, you turn to find a familiar face behind the cashier counter. One that, like the store itself, you have seen quite often. 

You first met Bambam through Mark—the two were friends in high school—at a dinner event his mother, the mayor of Moon Dye, held for his birthday. Aside from the occasional rich kid personality quirks, you’ve found Bambam to be quite a humble and reliable person, especially in providing you discounted books and helpful tips for living in town. 

“Hello to you too, Bam.” You smile. “How are things?” 

Bambam shrugs, “Slow day, and the rain really doesn’t help. Anyway, what are you looking for today? Maybe an edgy dystopian with way too much backstory? Or a sickeningly sweet love story where the simp dies? ” 

“I'll honestly take anything you deem acceptable at this point.” 

“You’re giving me way too much trust there, babygirl.” He chuckles, pilfering through a nearby box of books in order to gratify your request. “Mark told me you had a pretty rough spill last night. You okay?” 

“To be completely honest—not really.” You traipse over to the counter and lay your bag across its surface. Bambam moves aside some books to make room before offering a nearby stool for you to sit, “I just, I’m still confused on what happened.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Everybody says I fell and hit my head, but I don’t think that’s what happened—no—” You shake your head, “I know that’s not what happened, but it’s like everyone is just, I don’t know… hiding something.” Through the corner of your eye, you notice how Bambam’s shoulders tense at your comment, but brush it off as an odd tick. “But I guess what I don’t understand is why they’d want to… I mean, Mark would never keep something that important from me…” Once again, the clerk’s body fidgets uncomfortably—this time, furthering the suspicion brewing in your gut.

Your eyes narrow, “Bam… Do you know something that I don’t?” 

He seems to hesitate, running a hand through his tousled ivory-dyed tresses before peering toward the door, as if expecting someone else to enter. You open your mouth to pry, but Bambam’s answer beats you to it, “There’s a lot of things I know that you don’t…” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean—?” 

“It means that this town has secrets…” The abrupt change in his tone increases the uneasiness in your stomach, temporarily changing your frustrated mood to one of fear. A violent shiver crawls down your spine at his next words, “...secrets that can get you killed.”

“What secrets?” Your annoyance returns at his ambiguous response, “What does this have to do with what happened to me last night?” 

“Well, you were attacked, weren’t you?” 

Your blood turns cold. “How the fuck do you know that?” 

“I told you, I know a lot of things.” He releases a sigh before bending down to disappear behind the wood of the counter. He returns only seconds later with a seemingly old, leather-bound book clutched in both hands. You watch, wide-eyed like a fish, as he slides the object toward you. 

“This journal belonged to my great-, great-, great-grandmother, the first ever mayor of Moon Dye Bay.” Bambam begins, watching closely as you cautiously grab the text as if it would turn to dust in your grasp. “It contains private information about the town you won’t find anywhere else.” 

“And you’re just giving it to me?” 

“I’m pointing you in the right direction.” He states matter-of-factly, “If you live in this town, you should know what you’re up against.” 

“Why can’t you just tell me?” 

“Because if anyone were to find out, it would be dangerous for the both of us.” 

“But why—?”

“Please just trust me on this, (Y/N).”  You can do nothing but stare at Bambam, your thoughts too much of a jumbled, chaotic mess to come up with another reply. You want to insist—you want to insist over and over again until the clerk eventually spills—but you know it’s hopeless. There are few moments where Bambam is ever this serious, so whatever mess you managed to get yourself into—it’s crucial. 

You finally nod after another eon of silence and tuck the old journal inside your bag, “How much?”

“Consider it a six-month late welcome-to-town gift.” Bambam’s poor attempt at humor does little to lift your spirits, but you still scrounge up a weak smile and an even weaker thank you. As you make your way toward the exit, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head, and for once in a lifetime, you can’t wait to head out into the pouring rain. Just as you’re pushing through the door, Bambam calls out: 

“Hey, babygirl?”  

You turn with a sigh, “What is it, Bam?” 

“Just be careful, okay?” He murmurs heavily, “Those monsters that used to hide under our beds when we were kids, well… They grew up too.” You don’t bother to answer, send the clerk a parting nod and take off into the blurriness outside the bookstore. Your lungs welcome the damp air, attempting to soothe the racing of your heart with each breath. Even though you’re all wrapped up in your coat, your hands still tremble.

If what Bambam said is true, and this town is hiding something, and you eventually do find out what that something is, then how badly will it change your life? You moved to Moon Dye Bay to escape the traumas of your past… not to create new demons that will haunt your mind day and night. It’s been so long since you’ve felt what it feels like to belong somewhere, but then… Do you really want a place full of darkness, secrets and lies as a home? 

You quickly dash across the street, barely avoiding an approaching car driving way over the given speed limit. The rain only makes the atmosphere more ominous, both obscuring your vision and deafening your ears. Images from last night pop into your head which fuels the hurriedness of your pace. You can’t seem to control your breathing, or the anxiety swallowing your form. 

What if that monster was following you as you think? Is he aching to finish the job he failed to last night, and take your life as his prize? What if there’s no miracle there to save you this time? What if you die in a wet, dark alleyway where nothing but the rats can—?  

“(Y/N)? Are you alright?” You hadn’t realized somewhere in your rush you’d paused to rest against the building, awakening from your panicked trance at the warm voice that invades your ears like honey. You quickly compose yourself, shove your now vibrating hands in the pocket of your coat, and turn to face the familiar face with a confused expression. 

“Jinyoung? Are you following me?” 

“Where would you get an idea like that?” Jinyoung hurriedly pulls you underneath the awning of a shop and out of the rain. “I just left the police station and saw you out here by yourself. You seem… stressed.” 

“Aside from wet socks, I’m alright.” You shake your head, “Why were you at the police station?” 

“I had some business to take care of,” He answers, obviously not desiring to provide any more details to satiate your curiosity. “Anyway, what brings you out in this weather?” 

“Honestly, I just needed to escape from my crazy, overbearing roommates.” You shake the rain from your hair with a chuckle, “Just left the bookstore actually.” 

“I didn’t take you for the bookworm type.” 

“What? Just because I don’t exude the ‘shy, silent, glasses-wearing’ stereotype?” 

Jinyoung chuckles at your comeback, the sound gritty and amused, before placing a hand over his chest, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

“Well, choose your words more carefully then.” 

He nods with a smile, “I’ll definitely do that.” The raindrops pelting against the top of the awning creates a comfortable rhythm as you and Jinyoung fall into a heavy silence. Jinyoung continues to wear his tight, close-lipped smile while you continue to stare, not knowing whether to comment on his odd talent in appearing out of nowhere or reminisce in the storminess of his brown irises. You choose neither, and opt to end the conversation where it is: 

“It was really nice to see you again, but I should get back before the weather turns into a full-blown hurricane.” 

“That would probably be best,” Jinyoung steps aside, allowing you the room to pass by, and hums, “It’s always a pleasure, (Y/N).” You shoot him a grateful smile before launching back into the raging of the storm, immediately missing his uniquely charming aura and caramel-like gaze. Just from the interaction with Jinyoung, both your mind and body feel much more relaxed and in a way… almost safe. 

Too deep in your own thoughts, you fail to catch the second shadow that slinks out of a nearby alleyway and behind Jinyoung’s broad body.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“Have you lost your goddamn mind!?” Mark pinches the bridge of his nose at the high-pitched wail of the fuming, dark-haired witch, suddenly craving a drink to take the edge off of his nerves. Maybe they have some leftover grey goose in the cupboard— “You must have, cause you just made a deal with the fucking devil!” 

“Can you at least try not to yell?” From the center of a nearby ring of burning candles and sage on the floor, Lia sighs in annoyance, “I’m pretty sure the entire town can hear you at this point.” 

“Shut up!” Minho hisses at the female, before replacing his laser-like glare back on Mark. “I mean, you do understand how utterly stupid this entire thing is, right!? Things suddenly turn to shit and you run to those bloodsucking bastards for help!?” 

“He gave us a book, Minho. It’s not like I signed our souls away.” 

He scoffs, “You might as well have! Didn’t it ever occur to you that the Primes just want an opportunity to pick us off like flies? I mean, how do we know they weren’t the ones that killed Nayeon?”

“Youngjae’s tracking spell would have picked up their trail.” Mark sluggishly walks toward the stove, retrieving the whistling kettle before its volume reaches that of a shrill scream. He sighs and generously refills his coffee cup, “And you know very well that if they wanted us dead, we would have been in the ground months ago.” 

“You’re not listening to me!” Mark takes a sip of the steaming stimulant, the liquid doing nothing to ease the pounding of his head as Minho continues to rant, “We are all going to end up dead! We should have run them out of town when we had the opportunity in the first place—” 

“Oh my fucking god! Can you shut your mouth for a goddamn second!?” Lia’s anger sends chaos throughout the mausoleum. Jisung barely avoids a barrage of books spilling from their shelves while Youngjae ducks in time for a potted plant to fly over his head and shatter against the wall. Lia storms across the room, a trail of hot flames following her steps, and pokes a single finger into Minho’s chest with a sneer, “Nayeon-unnie is dead, okay!? And there is a psycho out there right now with their eyes on another witch in this room!? Mark is doing the best he can so it’s not your moronic ass that’s next on the hit list!” 

Minho remains silent, visibly surprised by the younger witch’s outburst. For a moment, Mark notices a spark of guilt behind his eyes before they shift to their usual cold exterior. 

“I don’t want anyone else to die, okay? But making a truce with one of the oldest vampires in existence is not a good plan—” 

“Well, it’s the only plan we have right now.” Mark sighs, “I do what’s best for my people—to keep you safe.” 

Minho stares coldly at Mark, “Yeah, just like you kept Jackson safe. Right?” 

Stunned by the witch’s sudden question, Mark is both physically and mentally unable to respond. He simply stares back at Minho with his jaw practically dropped to the floor. Minho shamelessly meets his eyes, as if finding joy out of Mark’s shock. 

“Hey, guys…” The brief moment of tension breaks at Youngjae’s call, who all this time, had been stationed behind the lectern flipping through the journal Jinyoung had gifted only hours ago. Mark feels the many cups of coffee sitting in his stomach churn at the absolute terror spread along Youngjae’s face. Though at his next words, Mark almost believes his entire insides turn inside-out,  “I found the symbol that was on Nayeon’s body…

“It means ‘Hunter’.” 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Jinyoung watches your silhouette recede into the blur of the rain with a smile. His mind reels back to your conversation, and how prettily your eyes shimmered in the mist. If it were any other person, Jinyoung wouldn’t care much for the spitfire-type of attitude, but with you… He actually enjoys your ferocious nature. It showcases your livelihood—and mortal strength. 

Jinyoung had planned to keep his word to Mark and steer clear, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when he spotted you standing in the midst of the storm. Something inside him is drawn to you, almost like a moth to a flame. It excites him, but startles him all the same. Never before has Jinyoung felt such a magnetic pull to another person—certainly not a human woman. Though, the rational voice in the back of his head still believes some part of you is not all that mortal… 

A wave of chill dampens the cheeriness of his mood, pulling a sigh of annoyance from his lips. He doesn’t have to turn around to feel the stealthy presence behind him. With one last glance toward the direction in which you vanished, and another huff, Jinyoung tugs on the lapels of his blazer and speaks: 

“Following me again, hyung?” 

A deep-set chuckle carries into Jinyoung’s ears, “In all our centuries together, I’ve never quite succeeded in getting anything past you… huh, Jinyoungie?” Jinyoung turns to face his brother, immediately growing more annoyed at his usual, nonchalant stance complete with lazily crossed arms, tilted head and a devious smirk along his lips. “Though, if I knew any better, I’d believe you’re not exactly thrilled to see me?” 

“Well, do you know any better?” 

Jaebeom laughs, “You’re still upset with me. What else is new.” 

“Forgive me if I’m not jumping through the roof because of your erratic behavior.” Jinyoung shoots his brother a glare before shoving his right hand in the respected pocket of his jeans. “Nine bodies all drained of blood, hyung. Do you not understand the concept of remaining inconspicuous?” 

“What can I say? I was rather famished last night.” 

Jinyoung stares at Jaebeom with a blank expression, “Does human life mean that little to you? Truly?” 

Jaebeom releases a heavy sigh, pushes off the brick wall in which he was leaning against, and takes a couple steps forward until he and Jinyoung are only inches from sharing oxygen. He provides his younger brother another smirk and shrugs, “There was a time we used to share the same perspective, brother. And if I remember correctly, you were much, much worse than I am.” 

“That is in the past.” 

“Ah. Of course.” Jaebeom retracts a silver-coated lighter from the pocket of his black, shredded jeans. Jinyoung watches the older play with the tool, repeatedly striking the light over and over again as he continues, “So… Are you going to tell your dear brother about the lovely girl that’s caught your eye?” 

Jinyoung’s patience immediately gives out at your mention. His features pull into a sneer, glaring at the amusement spreading along Jaebeom’s face. 

“Leave it alone.” 

“You do like her then?” Jaebeom’s smirk widens to a grin, “Wow. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day Park Jinyoung falls for a human.” Jinyoung tries to keep his self-control intact as Jaebeom proceeds to laugh, lifting the flame of the lighter up to the level of his eyes—malice visibly flickering in the light of his irises. “She must be very, very special…” 

Jinyoung growls, “I said, leave it alone. I’m not playing your games now, hyung.” 

“I only want to know what sweet (Y/N) has done to gain my little brother’s attention. Maybe it’s her spunk? Or her beautiful face? Or just maybe, the delectable taste of her delicious blo—” In the blink of an eye, Jinyoung has Jaebeom pressed against the same wall he was leaning against only moments before with an arm at his throat. Jinyoung can actually see his own rage in the reflection of Jaebeom’s black eyes. 

“You will stay away from her.” Jinyoung murmurs dangerously, relishing proudly in Jaebeom’s stunned expression. “Do not push me on this. Or I will push back.” Jinyoung releases his hold on his brother, pausing to straighten out the wrinkles of his blazer. Jaebeom continues to stare at the younger with bewilderment, unable to say anything in response. 

An annoyed breath leaves Jinyoung’s lips as he peers down at his watch, “I’m late. We will discuss this when I return back to the manor.” He shoots Jaebeom a pointed glance, “Please refrain from getting yourself into any more trouble. If you even can.” Without as much as a goodbye, Jinyoung brushes past Jaebeom and into the rain that’s coming down even heavier. He tries not to think about the paranoia and fear budding in his gut and instead focus the soaked path ahead, but even his own mind betrays him. 

Jinyoung knows Jaebeom. He’s known him for almost a millennium. He knows that if he makes one wrong move, Jaebeom won’t hesitate to retaliate against him—retaliate by using you. Jinyoung shakes his head with a sigh, savoring the chill of the rain against his body. If it comes down to it, he won’t hesitate to to protect you from his brother in any way he has to… 

He should have kept his word, and stayed away. 

 ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“You sure you don’t need anything else? Water? Another blanket? Some ramen?” You roll your eyes at your roommate’s barrage of questions, unable to help the soft smile that lifts to your lips. As smothering and irritating as Jihyo’s overprotectiveness can be, it’s nice to have someone looking out for your well being—even though she can be a helicopter mom sometimes. 

“It’s not like I’m paralyzed, Ji.” You reach forward to take her hand into your own, “I’m okay.” 

Jihyo squeezes your fingers, “I just… worry about you, you know? You’ve been through a lot.” Though she doesn’t specify, you know for a fact that she isn’t talking about the hospital visit. Your heart aches for as long you allow it to, before pushing the unwanted feelings away. You playfully nudge her shoulder with a chuckle. 

“You worry about everything. Now seriously, clear out.” Jihyo follows your lead to your bedroom door, staying still to allow you to check up on her hair and makeup. When you deem her appearance to be nothing less than perfect, you nod, “Sana won’t let either of us hear the end of it if at least one of us doesn’t go clubbing with her, Momo and Mina.” 

“What will you do, tonight?” 

“I have some stuff to finish for the university. Or I’ll just binge-watch some Sex and the City.” Jihyo accepts your answer, lifting her arms to bring your body into a short, tight hug. When she pulls away, you send her a wink, “Try not to get too trashed, alright? I really don’t want to be picking your drunk ass up at three in the morning.” 

“No promises,” She hums. “Thanks, (Y/N).” 

“Go have fun, gorgeous.” You give Jihyo a thumbs up as she steps from your bedroom. No sooner does Sana pounce on your roommate, and in a matter of seconds, drags her toward the exit with Mina and Momo not far behind. You wait through the girlish giggles and chatter until the slam of the front door carries from the front hallway—you’re finally alone. 

You quickly shut your door, making sure to turn the lock, and hop over to the tiny desk you somehow squeezed in the corner. When you moved in with Sana and Jihyo, they had to convert a storage closet into a bedroom since the apartment only came with one small master, now Sana’s space, and an even smaller office, where Jihyo resides. So your room is basically a shoebox with a single window and enough room for a bed, clothing chest, and a desk and bookshelf set. Even so, you’ve managed to spruce the place up with frilly rugs, decorative succulents and some cheap fairy lights, 

After yanking the curtains above your bed closed and double-checking the door, you retract the journal Bambam had given you from where you hid it earlier underneath your pillow. The leather is shockingly cool against your palm, almost searing into your flesh. Whether it’s the nerves or the excitement that’s making your pulse beat like a racehorse, you’re not so sure. But to be honest, it doesn’t matter to you… not as much as the truth that awaits. You settle back into your desk chair and open to the first page. 

There’s a name scrawled on the inside of the cover in a handwritten font you’ve only seen in historical documents and creative poetry projects. You recognize Bambam’s last name, Bhuwakul. The next page holds a diary entry in the same handwriting, dating back to 1770. Not desiring to wait any longer, you begin to read the entry: 

Day 1 — I have been traveling day and night for many months. My long journey has been filled with hardship, starvation and exhaustion. But my efforts have finally paid off. On a night when the moon was full and bright, I stumbled across a small village only miles from the edge of the sea. The townspeople welcomed me and my brother into their borders. Fed us. Clothed us. And even offered us a home to where we could reside as long as we wished. I believe we will stay here in Moon Dye Bay. For good. 

You flip through the rest of the pages, delving into the story of Bambam’s great-, great-, great-grandmother and her new life on the bay—how she bettered the town and its inhabitants, soon earning her title as the first ever mayor. You find yourself immersed in the personal account of her life, relating to her worries, wants, and wishes. Somewhere in the story, you completely forgot about Bambam’s warning… until you reach an entry that makes your skin crawl: 

Day 196 — There’s a murderer in town. We’ve lost eleven of our people. Three men. Seven women. And one child. I believe this person, no—this monster enjoys it. This monster enjoys draining the blood from their victims like rum, and tearing open their throats like a child opens a gift. This monster enjoys hearing them scream for mercy—watching the fear in their eyes blossom like flowers. But mostly, I believe this monster enjoys the hunt. I spoke to the Wang faction the other night, and some of the ladies said they felt as if they are being watched at night, when they are alone—as if the monster is lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right chance to kill. 

The passage reminds you heavily of what happened last night. Your attacker had done everything in which Bhuwakul described, even the part about tearing your throat open. You don’t bother to acknowledge the spinning of your head and instead, mindlessly flip through the journal. Your lack of attention no longer allows you to fully read the entries, only skim—until you reach another that catches your eye:   

Day 209 — It’s unlike anything I could ever imagine… This pain—this grief… My brother is dead and it’s because of those murderers… Because of those demons… We’ve all been blinded by their charms… but no more��� I will expose them to the villagers for what they truly are… so no one else can be victimized by their deceit… 

You almost faint as you read the next sentence that follows: 

—Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebeom are vampires. And they’re coming to kill me next.

[atinyidea]

A Caring Co-worker | Ateez Jeong Yunho

⟶ requested by ysy anon! thank you for the request lovely!

⟶ prompt(s): “They’re tall! Just like you!” and “How come he/she loves you?”

⟶ prompt change(s): “He’s so tall! Just like me!”

⟶ single mother!reader!au, coworkers!au, female reader! son!au

⟶ 2079 words

It wasn't usual for you to bring your son with you to work. It wasn't usual at all. However, when your son's babysitter called literal minutes before she was supposed to take him to inform you that she would not be able to make it you had no choice but to bring your son with you to work.

Now it wasn't like your son, Taeyoung, was much trouble. In fact, you found him an absolute angel! But he had such a curious mind and the filter of a five-year-old since he was indeed five years old. It wasn't the first time you had to bring him to your work before but it would be the first time bringing him to your new job. Your old co-workers had complained about Taeyoungs loud and bouncy personality and you were quite worried your co-workers at your new job would think the same. It wasn't that you were worried about what they thought, you really couldn't care less, you just knew it would break Taeyoungs little heart to be dismissed so quickly and you also knew how worked up you could get protecting your son's feelings. You really couldn't afford to lose another job because you "let your emotions get out of hand."

Currently, both of you sat in your car, Tae in the back happily singing along to some song on the radio. One that you had never heard but one that Tae seemed to know all the words to. You couldn't help the grin from slipping into your lips as you watched him sing his heart out without a care in the world from your rearview mirror. If you were truthful, you absolutely loved bringing your son to work with you, you loved being with him and talking to him and experiencing his curiosity. That and it was extremely funny watching him shoot down everyone he didn't like — which happened quite a lot actually. Once you had pulled into your work's car park, parked your car and got both your son and your things out of the car, you knelt down in front of Tae and gently rubbed his shoulders.

"Will you be good for mommy today?" You asked with a small smile, watching as he nodded back at you with such a big grin you could help but reflect it.

"Yes!"

"And we won't bother mommy's co-workers while they work?"

"Nope!"

"And if you have questions you'll ask me first?"

"Yes, mommy!"

"Okay then." You nodded and stood upright and put down your hand for Taeyoung to grab and the two of you walked into your work together.

Now, this job was your standard office job. You worked at a desk most of the day, on the phone or emailing other co-workers. The good thing was that you were situated on the first floor and your desk wasn't in a back corner nor was it slap bang in the middle of the room. There was space for Tae to be around you and do his own thing without interrupting anyone else.

The day went by quite well. In the morning Taeyoung did what he said he would, he sat at the empty desk next to you and drew pictures, — random things he liked the shape of, random co-workers he thought looked funny, several pictures of you, all of which he showed you with an extremely proud expression on his face — all of his questions went to you first and even when he got fidgety he didn't interrupt any of the co-workers around you. Which you were grateful for. After lunch had been and gone and he was "too full to even draw!" you could tell he would soon drop off to sleep like he usually did after eating too much. And he did.

You didn't particularly want to leave him alone or in some back room where, if he woke up and realised he didn't know where he was, he would panic. However, you knew the office itself could be extremely loud especially after lunch which was when the phone calls came in at a higher frequency. So, taking measures into your own hands, you unplugged your laptop and gathered both the laptop and your son into your arms and made your way to one of the more quieter parts of the office. You hadn't realised that the desk you thought was completely empty was in fact not completely empty at all. The desks were grouped into fours and just behind this particular group of desks was the break area. Your work was particularly gifted in the commodities of comfort. You laid Taeyoung down in a comfy beanbag chair and took a seat at the desk closest to him – not your smartest move though since that particular desk actually faced away from him.

The day continued on without much of a hitch, you got your work done and were currently caught up in a phone call, on hold, to a particularly – you wouldn't call a client boring... perhas monotonous? When you heard the distinctive voice of your child.

“Why is your hair blue?” Came the sweet chime of your son. Your head almost snapped off with how fast you looked up. Taeyoung was no longer asleep under your jacket on the beanbag chair you had left him on. Trying to calm your racing heart — do you didn’t have a heart attack or a breakdown in the middle of the office — you whipped your head around to locate the little boy.

When you found him you almost let out a sigh of relief. He was leaning against a chair behind the desk across from the one you currently sat at but he wasn’t alone. You had been so caught up in your own little bubble you had neglected to notice that you weren’t alone: that the empty group of four desks were in fact not so empty.

“My hair?”

“Yeah! Why’s it blue?”

Across from you sat a man and he did indeed have blue hair. It was a light pastel blue and under the bright lights of the office looked almost silver. He had a set of headphones over his hair, pushed back behind his ears so he could hear what Taeyoung was saying. You knew his name to be Jeong Yunho, for you had met him a couple of times — enough to be familiar with his face but not enough to say you’ve had more than a couple of conversations with the man.

You had to admit you thought he was attractive, he was tall and kind and his voice was nice to listen to, he had a warm smile: one you couldn’t help but return after seeing it. His eyes were your favourite part of his face though, they never ceased to draw you in, swirling in waves of different shades of brown. All in all he was a beautiful man and, at that moment, his amazing smile was shining towards your son. You couldn’t help but watch.

Taeyoung hung off of the arm of Yunho’s chair, one hand rubbing one of his eyes as he stared up at the man with blue hair, you could tell he was very tired.

“One of my friends did it over the weekend, I’m not sure if I like it.” Yunho let out a small chuckle.

“I like it!” Tae emphasised, almost jumping up and down on the spot.

Yunho let out a real laugh. “Well thanks, Little Man.”

“I’m not little! My name is Taeyoung.” The child smiled, letting out a yawn. You could feel the smile stretch over your lips at their interaction.

“That’s a nice name.”

“Thanks.” Tae yawned again. “My mommy gave it to me.”

“She must have good taste.”

“What’s your name Mr. Blue Hair?”

“That’s my name! How did you know!?” Yunho asked him in false shock. Taeyoung couldn’t help the giggle that filtered through his lips.

“No!” The child dragged out the word, “your real name!” Yunho laughed again before giving his full name.

You were in a state of small shock. Taeyoung was a naturally curious and sociable child but it was always a feat trying to get him to actually like people and talk to them with more than one sentence. You couldn’t help but stare at the two of them as they continued their conversation, amused that Taeyoung had continued to talk to Yunho like he was the most interesting person in the world.

Suddenly, as if he remembered that you even existed, Taeyoung lifted his head with sudden speed you were worried about his little neck.

“Mommy!” He exclaimed with a tired smile, pointing at you. You watched with a small grin as Yunho followed the little boys fingers to make eye contact with you.

“Is she your mommy?” He asked, not looking away from you. Taeyoung nodded quickly, shooting up from his leaning position, grabbing Yunho’s hand and dragging him over to your side of the desks. Yunho just let the little boy ‘drag’ him.

“Look mommy! He’s so tall! Like me!” Taeyoung beamed to the best of his ability. 

You raised your eyes in mock amazement, knowing how tall Yunho was and how tall your son was. “That tall, huh? Looks like the both of your are giants!” You smiled at him as both the man and boy let out little laughs.

In no time Yunho was sat in the chair next to you while Taeyoung climbed onto his lap. His lap. Like you weren’t his mother.

“How come he likes you, huh?” You asked Yunho, scrunching up your nose and reaching out to poke Taeyoungs. “He hardly likes anyone.”

Yunho looked at you, amusement shining in his captivating eyes. “Maybe I’m just that cool.” He shrugged in a nonchalant way. You couldn’t help the affectionate smile that covered your lips.

The two of you spent almost an hour just talking. In the beginning Taeyoung would chime in with his inputs but after a while he fell silent, having fallen back asleep against Yunho’s chest. The two of you hadn’t even realised it was time to go when one of the cleaning crew came to ask if you had any things for the dishwasher.

“You’re really good with him.” You commented, packing up your things as he remained seated.

Yunho just shrugged. “I have a little girl, Hyeri.” He replied. “I think it just comes with the whole parent thing.” You nodded, understanding him. Your whole world had changed when you had Taeyoung. When his father decided neither of you were worth his time, you made Taeyoung your entire life and focus. You wouldn’t change that for the world.

Looking at your baby sleeping in Yunho’s arms have you a feeling you hadn’t felt in your tummy for a long time: the feeling of butterflies. You didn’t want to move Taeyoung from his hold for several reasons, not all of them for the benefit of your sleeping son. Taking initiative you decided to strike up a deal.

“Tell you what.” You began, as you finished packing up. “If you carry him to my car, I’ll pack up your things and carry them to your car for you. Fair?” You grinned. Yunho grinned back and nodded with a low chuckle. So, that’s what happened. Yunho carries Taeyoung to your car, going the extra mile and making sure he was seated comfortably and strapped into his car seat. The two of you were pleasantly surprised to notice that you hadn’t parked that far away from each other and that Yunho’s car was literally a row behind yours. Before you even started walking towards his car he had taken his things from you silently. You walked to his car in a comfortable silence and once you reached his car you turned to face your own car to keep it in view. You opened your mouth to give your goodbyes but Yunho had beat you to the punch, cutting in before you had a chance to even utter a sound.

“I think,” He began, looking down at you due to the height difference between you. “To make it fair, as you put it, you should bring Taeyoung to meet my Hyeri one day. I have a feeling they’ll be great friends...” He trailed off. You nodded with a sweet smile, agreeing to his offer. “And maybe, you could bring yourself and stay for dinner?” 

[rmg91]

The Woes and Antics of Living Together-3

THIS CHAPTER! Gaaaahhh!!! It felt like it goes on forever even though it doesn't because I just couldn't get the right words to come out! So, sorry if it seems rough in places I was trying to work through my slight writers block. More slice-of-life like stuff will start next chapter as I attempt to drag this out a little bit rather than just skipping all the way to the Broppy goodness like I want to. (Also we need some of that mutual pining I promised all of you heehee~)

Enjoy.

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

                                                    ~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day after morning classes found Poppy skipping her way up to Branch's soon to be old building to help him collect his things. The day was bright and sunny, a sure fire sign that it was going to be great and she couldn't wait to have her new roommate all settled in. Humming a cheerful tune, she glanced around the hallway as she found her way to Branch's door and thought the place could really need a new coat of paint and maybe some pictures of puppies and kittens, everyone loved seeing puppies and kittens! Glancing at the slip of paper Branch had hastily wrote his apartment number on, she found the correct door and knocked in tune to her song.

She heard a muffled 'In a minute' and figuring he had all however many extra locks locked up -he could be so paranoid the dork- leaned against the wall with her phone to wait for him. Making a quick post on all her accounts to tell all her wonderful followers about the excitement happening, Poppy started to scroll though her feed to pass the time, swaying in time to her humming. After a few moments a shadow was suddenly looming over her and she glanced up to see a large man standing next to her.

"Well hey there, Girly~ Never seen ya here before." He said, leaning a hand on the wall.

"Hi! I'm Poppy!" She beamed, "I'm just here waiting for my friend."

"Heh, well how 'bout I...entertain ya till this friend shows up, eh?" He leered closer, musty breath fanning into her face, "The backroom of the lobby is nice and cozy."

"Back off, Griff." Branch's familiar growl echoed as he suddenly appeared between Poppy and the man.

"Oh-ho! Why should I? She ya girlfriend?"

Branch sputtered, "What?! No!"

Poppy smiled and placed her hands on Branch's shoulders, "But I am his friend! And his new roommate! I'm here to help him move!"

Griff snorted, "Shackin' up with a girl, huh? Heh, sure she ain't ya girlfriend?"

Branch growled and tried to fight down the blush he felt rushing to his cheeks, "Just leave us alone, alright? I'm moving just like you wanted."

"Che, whatever. Good riddance." Griff then lumbered off down the hall leaving the new roommates alone.

"Bye! Have a good day!" Poppy cried after him.

Huffing, Branch grabbed her arm and dragged her into his apartment, "You do realize he was trying to come onto you, right?"

"Psh, oh please, Branch." Poppy said, flapping her hand in the air, "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself and would've been fine. And can't you just be nice for once?"

"No."

Heaving a fond sigh and rolling her eyes, Poppy glanced around the fairly barren apartment, seeing nothing but a few boxes and an old mattress, "Oh...wow. This, uh....this all you have?"

"Pretty much." He had to sell whatever secondhand furniture he had to make rent sometime ago.

"Well...At least it'll only take us like one or two trips to get in loaded in my car!" She proclaimed, finding the bright side of things, like always. "Say, what's in here?" She asked suddenly, going to open a lid of a box.

Branch slammed his hand down on the lid, "Nothing important."

"Aww, come on, Branch. Let me see! I promise not to tell if it's embarrassing~"

It was embarrassing but like hell was he going to let her see it was his collection of all the invitations she had given him, "It's just personal stuff, alright?"

"Fiiine." Poppy pouted before glancing at the some of the other boxes, "What's all these?" She grabbed an unopened can of beans and grimaced at the date, "Dude, these are all expired, you know that right?"

"They are not." He tapped the top, "Those are just the purchase by dates, they haven't been open so they're still good. As for what this is all for, is provisions of course. Food, water, medical supplies all in case of an emergency."

Poppy snorted, "What kind of emergency? Zombie Apocalypse?"

"Maybe. You just never know."

Giggling, she placed the can back in the box, "Okay, fine. You can bring your 'Emergency Supplies' but you're going to have to freshen some of the stuff up."

Branch rolled his eyes and grabbed a couple boxes, "You'll be grateful for them when there's a zombie outbreak, just wait."

Poppy merely laughed in response as she lifted some boxes and started taking them out the door.

                                              ~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been easy enough to fit Branch's minimal possessions in Poppy's hot pink Volkswagon Beetle before leaving the decrepit apartment building behind and Branch couldn't help heaving a silent sigh at finally being out of that place. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all? Minus having to keep his feelings in check and to try to not watch every little thing she did with that adorable passion she had and to keep from spouting all the poetic words that wanted to spill out right this very moment for giving him this opportunity and-Nope! Branch growled to himself to stop thinking like that and stared out the window, trying to ignore the way Poppy bopped her head to the music playing on the radio and sang along.

He watched the old, grey and crumbling buildings of his old neighborhood meld into the better part of the city as they drove to Poppy's apartment complex. Bright shops and businesses flew by and Branch made a mental note to work out a new bus system for himself now that he'd be living somewhere new. Soon they turned into a parking lot and parked in front of a cheery, tall white building with sparkling windows and vibrant foliage surrounding it. Branch quietly appreciated it's curb appeal as he got out of the car, this was defiantly a place fitting for the pinkette dancing around the front of the car.

"Ok, so! Do you want to see the place first and then come back for stuff? Or start taking stuff up now?"

"Might as well start taking things. Get this over with."

Poppy gave him an exasperated look as she gently smacked his arm, "Oh, stop acting like this is the end of the world. This is gonna be great!" She weaved around him to go unlock the trunk before grinning wildly and jumping up and down, "Creek! Over here!"

Branch's almost relaxed state vanished as he turned with a scowl to watch the person he disliked most casually walk over. Creek Ophir, who wore bright, eye burning yellow pants, sandals, had the worse combination of teal and green ombre hair and was always spouting something about 'spiritual enlightenment' had been a thorn in Branch's side since middle school. He hadn't even done anything to him, they just never got along and it never did Branch's poor heart any good to see just how happy Poppy became in the presence of the 'guru'.

"Why the hell is he here?"

Unlucky for Branch, Creek had heard that, "Why, I simply came over to help Poppy move in her new roommate of course. No need to be so hostile, Mate." He then smiled at Poppy, "And hello, Poppy."

"Hi~!" She chirped, "And, Branch, chill. This will go faster with three people verses two."

Branch scoffed and reached inside the tiny car to grab the few boxes they fit into the backseat, it wouldn't have taken them that long, he barely had anything! Grumbling to himself and wishing Creek would just disappear, Branch followed Poppy as she skipped up to the building, leading the way into the lobby and to the elevator. A short ride later found them on the sixth floor and Poppy led the way to her apartment.

Dropping the boxes in her hands by the door, the pinkette danced in placed as she rummaged around in her sparkly teal purse for her keys. Laughing in success, she pulled out a keyring full of mostly silly keychains and jiggled them as she unlocked the door. Dropping them back into her purse, Poppy picked the boxes back up and bumped open the door with her hip as she declared brightly, "Ta-dah! Welcome to your new home, Branch!"

Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, Branch followed in after her and took in where he'd be living for an indefinite amount of time. The front door opened into a small foyer overflowing with Poppy's shoes and a cluttered end-table before leading out into the open concept living room and kitchen. The kitchenette was small but not cramped and looked like it had pretty good counter space between the oven and fridge, with a little more on the other side where the sink sat in the island/bar. Branch set his boxes on the table that was butted up against the island and covered in various magazines and colorful binders as he looked at the living room portion.

Cozy and warm were the best way to describe it with it's pale blue couch (overflowing with multi-colored cushions), bright pink armchair (was that a giant stuffed animal peeking over the top?) and beanbags sitting around a scrapbook and glitter covered coffee table. A decently sized wide-screen TV sat across the wall, surrounded by game consoles and racks full of movies and games. Shelves and pictures covered the walls, each overflowing with bits of Poppy's personality and her love for her friends. Branch couldn't help but feel a little out of place in this brightly colored apartment as he looked around at Poppy's life.

"Soooooo," Said young woman drawled as she watched her new roommate look around, "What'cha think?"

"It's...bright." He grimaced, "And do you ever clean up around here? There's clutter everywhere."

Poppy placed her hands on her hips, "Excuse you, it has a healthy lived in feel, thank you very much!"

"Now, now, let's not let any negativity ruin such a...fun occasion, shall we?" Creek said as he sat a large box on the counter, "Branch, mate, there's no need to be so judgmental. And, Poppy, Love, you have a very unique way of letting yourself be captured in everything you do. Don't let anyone ever tell you to do different."

Poppy giggled as she grinned at Creek, "Oh, I know~ But thank you for saying that."

Branch gagged before gesturing to the small hallway he could see, "I'm going to go put this in my room."

"Oh! Right!" Poppy grabbed her boxes again and flounced down the hall, "This way~!"

"I think I could've found it on my own, Poppy."

"Says the one that couldn't find me when we played hide n' seek when we were kids ever."

Branch blinked at the sudden callback to their childhood but didn't let that stop him from replying, "For your information I let you win." She never had to know he actually had the worse time finding her and she was as good as she thought she was.

"Ha! Sure~ Anyway!" She hip checked the door at the end of the hallway open, "Here you go!"

The room was decent size, able to fit the full-sized bed in the corner plus the dresser and desk already in there nicely. The bed was made with soft looking periwinkle sheets and the window had some gentle blue curtains framing it. There was also what looked to be some overflow of Poppy's craft supplies in there but all in all it was a nice looking room, it was just missing a bookcase. Although it was shockingly bare compared to the rest of the apartment.

"I'll get the rest of my stuff out, don't worry." Poppy said as Branch sat his stuff down on the bed.

"That would be good." He snarked instead of saying thank you like a normal person would.

Poppy stuck her tongue out at him before turning around, "Let's go get the rest of your stuff, yeah? Then you can 'Branch' up the room to your liking."

"Haha." He replied as he followed her out and back down the picture filled hallway glancing into both the bathroom and her room as they went by. A lot of pink was all he managed to see.

They came back to the living room to find Creek plucking cans out of Branch's ration box and placing them on the counter. He looked up with that stupid condescending smirk of his when he noticed them, "You do know most of these are expired, yes?"

"That's what I told him."

Branch rolled his eyes, "And I told you they're rations and as long as they aren't opened or the cans dented they're fine. Those dates are just when they should be sold by. Now let's go get the rest of my stuff."

As Branch stormed out the door, Poppy couldn't help shaking her head, "He can be so touchy about things."

"Well some people are just like that. The thing to remember is to not let their life choices effect yours." Creek smiled at her, "And do be sure not to eat anything is these cans, I don't want to hear you've gotten sick."

"Don't worry, I'm gonna make sure they get replaced." Poppy giggled. She then bounced up and kissed him on the cheek, "And thanks so much for helping today~"

"Not a problem, Sweet~"

Giggling some more, Poppy skipped out the door with Creek following to go catch up with Branch at the elevator. He frowned at them before pressing the down button and waiting for the doors to open. Once inside, Poppy bounced and sang softly between Creek and Branch before suddenly exclaiming, "Oh!"

"What?" Branch asked, without thinking.

"I almost forgot!" She pulled her phone out of her pocket before suddenly wrapping her arm around Branch's neck and smooshing their faces together, "Selfie~!"

She snapped a picture just before Branch could pull away, "What was that for?!"

"Duh, to commemorate the occasion." She said as she typed away on the small screen, "Gotta post an update on the moving day for the followers."

"Huh?"

"Don't you follow social media, Branch?"

"No. I use the computers at school for homework and real news." And maybe some conspiracy video's now and again, just to know what to look out for.

Rolling her eyes, Poppy pocketed her phone, "Social media is news. Oh! We should make you an account on Instagram or Twitter! Wouldn't that be fun? You could follow me and the rest of the Snack Pack!"

"No."

"Aw, come on. You'd love it."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would."

"No."

"Yes."

Creek chuckled at their childish banter, "You know, Branch, Poppy's right. I'm sure you could find something pertaining to your...unique tastes."

Glowering at Creek as they exited the elevator, Branch growled, "No."

"You don't have to be such a stick in the mud, Branch. Posting is fun! And so is vlogging!"

"Ah, yes. Poppy is quiet the known vlogger. She's fairly popular on Youtube, then again it is very hard not to love her."

"Creek~" Poppy giggled.

Branch gagged again as he went toward her brightly colored car, "You do know that there could be anyone behind those so called 'followers' right? Serial killers, rapists, sicko's with a weird fetish! And you're just giving away your personal information like it's nothing!"

"Oh please, you worry too much. And I know not to trust everything on the internet, I'm not stupid, Branch. Also I'm surprised you know what a vlogger is."

"I've heard Bridget and Gristle gush about it before." And he wasn't a complete idiot, just because he wasn't into keeping up with social media didn't mean he hadn't seen a vlog or two. He just didn't get them. "Let's just finish this up."

Another trip up to the apartment was all it took to finish getting his things in and Branch was ready to unpack and to try and ignore the personified sunshine he now lived with. However, Poppy had other plans as she stopped him before he could retreat into his new room.

"Before I forget again..." She started before pulling something out of her pocket with a flourish, "Dah! Dah! Da-dah! Your key! You are officially my roommate now."

She dropped the key into his hand and he couldn't help tilting his head as he looked at the wink face emoji key cap she had added, "...Thanks."

"No problem~" She giggled.

"Well, as fun as this has been, I'm afraid I must be going." Creek spoke up, "I have a yoga class to get to."

"Oh! Of course!" Poppy skipped over to him, "I'll walk you out. Be right back, Branch. No disappearing into your room yet! We're gonna do some roommate bonding when I get back!"

"What?" He asked but they weren't listening as they walked out the door.

Rolling his eyes and deciding to ignore whatever 'roommate bonding' Poppy had in mind, Branch turned to head down the hallway but something on one of the shelves lining the wall caught his eyes. Wandering over, Branch stared in disbelief at the old, dingy and dinged up cowbell that Poppy had kept with her all throughout elementary and middle school. He couldn't believe she had the stupid thing, he had thought she had finally grown out of it in high school but apparently he was wrong.

Now sort of curious, Branch looked though her collection of pictures, seeing snapshots of her life. Most of them had her main group of friends in some variation, while others held her and people she clearly had charmed with her sunny personality. There were shots of people partying, playing games, her dad of course, Branch was even surprised to see one of him and her. Her seven year-old self was smiling widely, freckles gleaming in the sun with arms wrapped tightly around his ten year-old self, who was smiling just as brightly as he held onto her with one arm, the other holding a first place trophy from the science fair he had entered. Branch let himself remember that moment for a second, back when things were happy and uncomplicated but snapped out of it as he heard Poppy come back inside.

"Hey~ What'cha lookin' at?"

Unwilling to admit what he been thinking about, Branch picked the most random thing he saw sitting innocently before him, "This. Why the hell do you have a dressed up troll on your shelf?"

"Hey!" She came over and picked up said troll, cradling it gently in her hands, "Don't diss Princess Poppy. As princess of the trolls she has to look her best."

Branch snorted, "You named it after you?"

Pink hair flew around her as Poppy shock her head, "No, you did. Don't you remember that you gave her to me?"

Now that she mentioned it, he did vaguely recall presenting a younger Poppy with the toy, "Not really, no."

Rolling her eyes, Poppy placed the treasured item back in her spot, fluffing the hair a little, "Well I do. And she's still one of my favorite gifts from you. Along with these~" She gave the rainbow bangles a little shake to call attention to them, "Anyway~" She sang, "I was thinking since it's still pretty early in the day why don't we go to the store as our first roommate bonding experience?!"

Branch gave her a deadpan look, "I'd rather unpack."

"Aw, come on!" She whined, twirling around him and tugging on an arm, "You can unpack later, we need groceries! Cause let me tell you, mister, I am not sharing my Lucky Charms with you." She playfully wagged a finger at him.

"Like I would touch that sugary junk."

"Exactly! We gotta get you some boring cereal. And some bread...chocolate chips...eggs...maybe some mayo, I gotta check."

Branch stared at her as she fell into thought, finger poised by her chin, "When was the last time you went grocery shopping?"

"Eh, it's been a little while yet. Hence why it's a good time to go!"

"So you're using 'roommate bonding', as you call it, as an excuse."

"No!" She crossed her arms and pouted at him, "I think this'll be a fun first experience for us, I've always had fun going with my previous roommates. Plus come on, when was the last time you ate real food?"

"I eat real food!"

"That didn't come from a can!"

"Uggg!!" Branch groaned before throwing his hands into the air, "Fine, we'll go!"

"Yes! This'll be great! Trust me."

                                              ~*~*~*~*~*~

A little while later, they returned burdened with more groceries than Branch thought they'd get from a very...eventful trip to the store. After Poppy had managed to force him on camera to introduce him to all her 'wonderful subscribers', they had gone from practically corner to corner of the store as Poppy kept remembering things she either wanted or they actually needed. Branch had tried to stick to just a few things but after a brief argument over wither getting just canned soup counted as grocery shopping or not, he had relented and actually picked a few things he hadn't allowed himself to have in a few months.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't just a little happy to have fresh pears and peaches again, plus the small chocolate bar he snuck past his new roommate.

Getting everything put away now was an even bigger event as Poppy, who just couldn't seem to slow down for a second, put on some bubbly pop song and was dancing around the kitchen as Branch tried to figure out where she liked to put things. Her cabinets were a seemingly random host of things that had no rhyme or reason to being stored together. Branch made a mental note to reorganize everything soon so it would be easier to find certain things, for both of them.

"Show the room what you can do, Prove to them you've got the moves, I don't know about you, But I feel better when I'm dancin, yeah, yeah~" The pinkette sang before hip checking Branch, "Come on, Branch! Sing with me!"

"No. I don't sing."

"Oh please, you use to sing all the time when we were kids." She responded as she tossed a boxed of cereal into the cabinet.

"Well I don't anymore."

"Gah! Such a spoil sport." Poppy groaned before suddenly jumping in place as her phone rang, interrupting the music, "Hello? Oh, hi Satin! Really?! A party?!"

Branch rolled his eyes, wondering if there was ever a time where Poppy wasn't excited about a party, and continued shuffling groceries into their places. At least he'd get a few hours to center himself in this new place since she was sure to go.

"Of course I'll be there! When am I not?!" She nodded along with whatever Satin was telling her before replying, "Okay~! Meet ya at your place in twenty!" Then as she hung up, she grinned at Branch, "Branch. My man. How would you like to go to a party tonight? Eh? Eh?"

"No." He was not going to let her drag him to any parties anymore now than before their living arrangement.

"Pleeeease?!" Oh god, she was trying to puppy dog eyed look again.

"No, Poppy." He growled, glaring at her, "No parties means no parties!"

"Oh fine." She pouted before glaring back at him, "Gesh, I was just trying to get you to lighten up a little. As your friend and now roommate it is my duty to make sure you're living life to it's fullest!"

"No, it's not." He waved her off toward the door, "Now go. I'm looking forward to unpacking in peace."

"Fine, fine." She sighed, rolling her eyes before rushing into her room to grab her make-up bag before flying to the door, "Bye~! Happy to have you as my new roommate even though you're still a grumpy troll~!"

"Don't come back drunk!" He shouted but the door had already slammed shut behind her.

Sighing, Branch finished putting away their food before wandering to his room and sliding down to the floor, back against the bed frame. Tilting his head back, he groaned and wondered how he was ever going to survive living with the tornado that was Poppy Meadows. Reaching for his backpack after a moment, he grabbed a notebook and opened it to a blank page and begun to pen down the words that had been swimming in his head since seeing that old picture of the two of them. That woman just had no idea what she did to him and now he'd have to be extra careful not to let any of his unrequited feelings show. She believed them to be friends and he wasn't about to ruin that with his stupid, messy feelings.

Groaning once more, Branch really hoped he wouldn't regret living with her.

                                               ~*~*~*~*~*~

I swear I either focus too much on certain details and then not enough on others but then again maybe it's just me as the beta has given this chapter a pass *shrugs* I don't really wanna write Creek I be honest but he's necessary for what little plot I have so.... Also the Snack Pack will be coming in next chapter! I have not forgotten them! I'll also make sure to try and add more snark between Branch and Poppy, like I said still getting the hang of them. c:

Read and Review!

Song Credit: Better When I’m Dancin’-Meghan Trainor

[october-rosehip]

When your incidental side characters defend their own novel... WIP

The ferry pulls up against the pier with a whump and a splish. I am so grateful to be at the end of this stupid, miserable journey that I let out a sigh of relief.

It may be a prison full of humans, but it isn't a wagon and I can probably get a bath. Whatever happens next, as long as I'm not chained to a bench next to Eadric, it'll be an improvement. I might not have to kill his pedantic ass.

Mine is the last boat. Robin, Iris, and one of the templars are on it with me. Everyone else is milling around the grounds, trying to look unimpressed, only that's hard because look at that thing.

The tower stands on the rocky island, taking up most of it. I have no idea how this thing hasn't collapsed under its own weight, but it isn't about to. It stands stubbornly above us, shadowing everything around. It looks black in the twilight, with a sparkling of light from arched windows here and there. I have to admit, I'm impressed. I've never seen anything so tall, or built with so much care.

“How come there's only one boat for this whole, giant place?” I wonder. I don't know I speak aloud, but I must, because Kester answers me.

“It isn't often so many come and go at once, miss. Maybe three or four times a year that happens. Most of the comings and goings are food shipments, or a few mages and templars transferring to and from. The next time you ride Lissie, it won't be such a wait.”

“I'm... likely to ride her again?” Mages can leave? And why is he being so nice? I have the strangest urge to tell him it was no inconvenience at all, thank you ser. Like I asked for this and the wait was a minor inconvenience to my holiday plans.

He laughs. “You're certain to, eventually. Only one boat, remember. You may go to another circle, or work for a noble, someday. It's me that never goes anywhere, nor my father and grandfather before me.”

“Oh.” Oh? Is that the best I can do? I'm not usually this rude, I swear. I'm just not used to humans being... deferential. That's the word. He's acting like he's here to serve me, and that's new. Also, this is the first I've heard about being able to leave, again.

He ties the boat to the dock and between him and the templar, whose name I still don't know, the three of us get lifted out. The templar is the ice-man, though. I would never be so calm standing in a boat wearing all that metal. He'd sink like a stone if he slipped. The back of my mind tells me to trip him. I don’t.

“Thank you,” I say as soon as my feet are on solid, well, boards. Robin and Iris follow my lead.

“You're very welcome, you three.” Kester helps the templar out as well, unties the boat, and heads back to shore.

Maybe someone inside has been waiting for us all. Maybe there was a signal? The huge doors swing open. An old, bent human man steps through. It's warm out, but he's wearing all the robes ever and looks like he needs them. Everything my entire family has ever owned isn't worth half what his clothes must have cost. I don't know what the fabrics are, but they look soft, and are green and black and heavy with embroidery.

“Welcome, welcome.” he says. “I am First Enchanter Irving. I am certain this has been a long and trying journey for all of you. As the dinner hour has passed, sandwiches have been set out for you in the entry hall. Most of the apprentices have retired for the evening to the dormitories. You may choose any unclaimed beds you wish. If they are unmade, they are available. Bathing facilities are also prepared for you. Please make yourselves at home.”

Robin and I shoot a glance between us. This old man is obviously important. He doesn't volunteer to answer questions, but he bothers to welcome us, specifically? Why go to the trouble? What's in it for him?

I guess it doesn't matter, right now. I can be stubborn and grumpy, or I can eat a sandwich and have a bath. I mean, I'll probably do all the above, anyway, but the first shouldn't prevent the rest of it.

The entryway is really impressive. Everything is arches, stained glass, and stone. And no, I have no idea what kind of stone. It's blue-gray. I'm not up to noticing much more than that anyway, once I spot the baskets of food and jugs of drink. I smell bread, and my stomach cheers. Loudly. I can't even try to play it off. I no longer care about stained glass because there is food.

What? Seriously, this bread is still warm. If you haven't eaten all day, see which you care more about: bread or architecture.

Maybe this is all an elaborate trap, or they're trying to get us to let down our guard. I don't know why they'd bother, mind you. They've got us. So, whatever. I demolish a cheese, sprouts, and mustard sandwich. There's cider to wash it down with.

When everyone's done, we head down a corridor. We walk past huge, iron doors with a complex set of massive bolts and locks. I already know I'm a prisoner, so that isn't what stops me in my tracks. It's the light.

Steady, warm pools of light fall to the floor from the lamps, no, chandeliers- I've read about those- above us. Those are not candles. The very light is magic.

“What's wrong, Turnip?” asks that asshole from Highever. “Never seen ceilings, before?”

I scowl at him. “Look at it, though.”

Everyone looks up. I've made something of a career from the fact that nobody ever does that, unprovoked.

“Glowlights,” says Eadric, like it isn't any big deal at all. “They're enchanted.”

“What, did you have them at home?”

“Of course not. They're far too expensive.”

I may have to kill him after all. (I’ve never actually killed anybody, I swear. I’m just very testy, right now.)

“I get you,” says Robin. “Magic, out in the open. Like it's normal. Expected.”

“Yeah.” That is what I mean, all right. I've had to hide my skills always. Here they use magic to light the hallway.

This will maybe be fine.

I stop holding us up and we head into the dormitories. There are two of them, even though it looks like more. Each one is so big it has two doors. I head into one at random, and it looks like this one is mostly youngish kids. A lot of them are asleep, already. There must be room for forty or fifty people to sleep in here. Besides that, there are chessboards, writing desks, bookshelves, and squashy pillows. Humans about my age are playing chess, cards, or some goofy looking game involving a beanbag. There are no elves. All the humans stop to look at us and I suddenly don't want to deal with this. I know it won't help, but I want to move on to the next room to avoid how they're looking at me.

Some of the others are braver. Eadric walks up to the first bunk he sees, and simply occupies it, like he's always been here and it's been his, forever. Fine for him, but I check out the next room.

It looks just like the first one, and humans still stare. I am prepared, this time. Robin and Iris find a top and bottom bunk together. It is right in the middle of the room. No, thank you. I look at the corners.

I'm starting to think I have been too slow and might have to go back to the first room when I spot a top bunk in the darkest corner. It's near the front of the room but not really in direct view from the door. That'll suit me. I beeline right for it, but falter. Three dark haired people sit on pillows on the floor beside it, a card game in progress between them. They turn to look at me.

The pale, tall human man with kind, blue eyes looks surprised to see me. The copper-skinned human woman across from him smiles at me. It reaches her whole self, like I was perfectly expected.

But then I see the third.

Oh, cute boy. I have found the one elf apprentice, and he is beautiful. He has to know it, to spend that much time on his hair.

And I can't do this, anymore. These three already belong here. They're all so... lovely, and obviously a tight group. Can I really just insert myself into their space? I decide I cannot, and spot another bunk not far away...

And the cute mage boy's ears droop. I'm turning away, and he's disappointed. He also makes no attempt to hide it.

Who does that? Didn't anybody ever teach him how to control his face? He's just signaling whatever he feels to anybody who knows how to look at the admittedly subtle movements of our ea...

Oh. Duh. Only elf apprentice. Been here almost a decade, already. Is about my age. Got it.

I turn back to them. “Excuse me, I'm supposed to find a place. Is that bed open?” I know darn well it is, of course.

“It is,” says the girl. She stands and offers her hand. “I'll be your downstairs neighbor, then. I'm Silvana, and these are Macsen and Jowan.”

“I'm Nisha. Pleased to meet you all. I. Ah, please don't think I'm being rude. Is that where the baths are?” I think I smell soap from the partially sectioned off part of the room near us.

“Yes. Don't worry, we've all been there.”

Cute boy gives me a half smile and doesn't say anything. After listening to Eadric explain everything to me like I'm four all week, I'm grateful.

[thisaccounthasbeentransfered]

Project Nebula 2: To Escalate

Clouds blanketed the sky in its depressing, rainy glory. Under a wet black oak tree, I bathed in reeking rainwater. I had gotten there at dawn. I heard the splashing of feet in the puddles of water, approaching me. I looked up. It was Indigo, dressed as if he were to travel to the coldest regions of the Earth in a few minutes. Everything obscured in jackets and scarves. He sat at the edge of the bench.

"It's not even cold," I commented, "And I thought we were just talking."

"This is evidential!" he barked back, "If you want to know how you ended up like this, you need to look in more unexpected places."

I opened the tote bag. The absurdity of the items we bought ranged from little girl sticker books to Victorian-era kitchen utensils. Disjointed, irrelevant, and possibly helpful. I reached inside and took out an old P.D. Maybe 2001. The screen was covered in hardened dirt. I took out the stylus to scratch it off with the nib. Indigo's gaze was fixed on my eyes. He pulled on my jacket.

"Can I use your jacket?" he lowered his voice and whispered.

"I don't like showing my arms," I mumbled, and took off my jacket anyway, "We should get back home."

"My dad's visiting my mom, today, so we can go to my place."

The sky darkened. Indigo lived in a wooden, two-story house in the same condition as a cabin torn off the ground by a tornado. Doors had giant locks on them instead of a tradition lock in the knob. The floors were all wood, too. He and I sat in his family room on the couch. Just old books and pillows piled up to the ceiling. But the couch was the only sanitized furniture in the house.

His wild hair ticked my nose and neck as he rested his head on my shoulder. It was heavy, so I'm guessing he had a big brain in there. He rummaged through the apps and files on my phone, my personal stuff, but I put up with it.

"I wish I was part of the FBI," he murmured and cuddled me like I was a giant stuffed panda, "We'd have a team of people to solve it for us."

"I said you could take my jacket, not cuddle me," I chuckled under my breath. I don't understand why I laughed at that. I never said I wanted it to stop.

"Girls cuddle with me all the time; you're lucky it's me and not Harper."

"Liar; at least Harper is a girl."

In my head, potential responses bounced around and reached my lips but never spoken. The silence was a puppeteer pulling the strings of my legs to keep jumping and my arms to tremble, uncontrollably. But as this silence lingered, my growing patience depressed.

I've never been in the teacher's lounge. Or at least at this school. Only time was in the first grade by accident. I tidied up my uniform, the same thing Indigo wore when I was in Helix's car. I still think it's odd that, despite us meeting only days ago, I've already stayed over at his place. I pumped out my chest, put my legs together, and kept my hands behind my back. I stepped inside. A long polished, wooden desk in the middle with comfortable cushion chairs. Microwaves and coffee machines in every corner. There was another door with a plaque that read Student Council above it. I walked in and sat down in a beanbag chair in the corner.

"How professional, President," Harper announced from across the room, And out of nowhere like she spawned here in a video game.

"Well, I'm the president and I have complete control over everything that goes on in here," I asserted, and glared back. I've never been in charge of anything, and this was my only chance to make that clear.

"First, we all have a say; you know that! Second—"

She poured in a steaming cup of coffee into a clear, plastic cup and marched over to where I was sitting. She didn't trip over her feet or anything on the carpet, she didn't even miss a beat and moved in perfect harmony. Like I was the piece of meat at the end of maze left for a starving polar bear. From a few feet away, she launched the cup into the air and into my face. Hot coffee basically melting my face off. Of course, I'm exaggerating.

Xander shoved through the door with his back hunched over and his fists clenched up. But he was smiling.

"I'm quitting the role as vice president!" he declared, "Isn't that right, Peirson!"

"We all have to decide!" Harper shouted and grabbed his shirt collar, "And you don't even have a valid reason! Peirson can't make that kind of decision!"

"Everyone, get in your seats!" I screamed. No one reacted and continued to argue with each other. I threw my bean bag chair against Harper's leg and walked out the room.

I stormed out into the math department hallway. But I didn't pass the restroom. I stood up against the brick walls with my face buried in my hands. Every inch of my body was an impending explosion of boiling blood. My vision went double and air escaped my lungs. My chest looked like an inflating balloon. Indigo walked around the corner with the same looking tote back from the day prior. He took my hand.

"Tough day, wasn't it?" he laughed, "Harper, right?"

I grabbed him the shoulders and shoved him into the wall. With my voice still torn and scratched, I begged, "She threw hot coffee in my eyes! Did she always act so psychotic?"

"If you keep acting like this, everyone's going to think our student body president has gone mad!"

"I'm going to talk to her in private."

His faded smile contorted into a scowl. He grabbed my wrists and thrust my arms back down to my side. He shoved past me and marched out the same way he came from. Not even a goodbye. I couldn't tell if his anger was only an act and that I was supposed to read between the lines. I could still feel the sensation of his grasp like I was put in handcuffs and unable to move them. Despite that, I still desired to talk to Harper when the day ended.

Again, I was the fly on the wall. Observing the actions and words of the faceless students around me. Their identity meant nothing to me, only the nonsense complications they stir up for the week, kill off, then create a new situation to occupy their time. This time, I was the observer in the gymnasium. Every prepared, dedicated student did whatever they were told, throwing and kicking the football every time they had to. By my own logic, I am neither prepared or dedicated.

Helix was in the game, and of course was the best player. I kept my eye on him. And he kept his eye on me. Whenever he ran north, the side of the gym I was on, his eyes fixated on mine. And I felt guilty every time I reciprocated. From my arms to my legs to every hair on my body, I stood petrified. The whistle blew, and the students all parted.

"Hey, Peirson!" Helix yelled from the center of the room, "Why aren't you participating?"

"I don't—" I stopped myself before my shouting turned into a shriek.

"What was that?"

"Nevermind!"

Even with my head facing the lower half of the wall, I could still see Helix walking towards me, peripherally. I moved my head around a little and counted on my fingers to give off the illusion that I was thinking about something unrelated. Immediately, once we were breathing the same air, he slammed my back against the wall. His breathing was unsteady, almost like he was choking on thorns. His pupils shrunk to the size of a particle. His claws dug into my chest.

"What your real name?" he demanded.

"Peirson Ralston, you know that!"

"You know how I know you're lying?"

I stared at the floor to escape his devilish gaze. Students turned their heads. I swallowed my hot tears. It was that silence, again. Lifting our head, the tips of our noses touch. My skin was a burning stove top. My legs were gelatin melting under the flaming sun.

"You're not leaving that easily."

My feet wouldn't move up the steps. The door was inches away from my face. I left of the path and circled around the house like a stalking lion. Indigo had my only jacket, so my scrawny arms were exposed to the many onlookers that only existed in my head. Fog washed over me. I stared through the window of the laundry room.

"Mr. Lynch!" I bellowed and banged on the glass, "Is Indigo in there?!"

A stream of thick liquid trickled from my forehead and stained my lips. The world went stagnant as I dropped to my knees. Shards of stones sliced my palms. Trees, bushes, mist, the stones. . . They drifted into space.

Despite me wanting to enter, I didn't want him or his dad to see me, covered in bruises. I could feel my limbs going numb. Or it was all in my head. Someone opened the window. Indigo. He carried a laundry basket and set it on top of the washing machine. He maintained a straight face as he gave me a blank look.

"So, what did Harper say?" he asked, keeping his back facing me as he folded shirts fresh out the dryer.

"I didn't talk to her," I mumbled, "I didn't want to after that."

"After what?"

He turned around, saw my cut up arms and scarred neck. With a face of shock, he grabbed one of the white shirts from the dryer and ran out of the room. In mere seconds, he ran up behind me. He stretched the shirt around my right arm, which bled the most, and tied the ends into a complicated knot. Already, it wasn't holding up, as it began to thin and turn a deep, velvet color.

"It really isn't that bad, Indy," I pulled away.

"You yelled through my window," he stressed, "Clearly, you needed me for something."

I stared back down at the wet grass. His scrutiny created the feeling of authority as if he was critiquing every move I made. Deep down in my gut, I knew that I shouldn't have felt guilty of a backlash that wasn't my intention.

"Are you still mad at me?" I tripped backward from waking from my deep daydream.

"I. . . I wasn't mad. . . I'm just confused about all this," he explained.

"I'll explain ever—"

"I didn't offer to help, then you got beat up because I was selfish and got angry."

He and I gave each other a warm smile. A forced two smiles. It was like a little boy trying to make his mother a Christmas present at the last minute. A weird comparison, but that has happened to me before. His phone vibrated in his pocket and whispered, "It's Xander..."

He held his phone close to his mouth, constantly pressing the volume button to ensure it was mute. His back turned, he faltered his way back inside through the front door, leaving me stranded out in his backyard, leaving me to limp behind him. Childish. The thoughts stuck in the back of my head about what he was planning to do with me. I was okay with limping behind.