#not me catching myself opening our old text conversation whenever something i think you’d find funny happens

[scrambledslut]

universe decided to beat the “don’t talk to strangers on the internet” lesson into me until i choked on my own blood😐

[raendown]

I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

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Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.

[stevie-kd]

“Feral”

Part 3

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

::in which the Bakusquad comes in clutch, and Kirishima and Bakugou have a cutesy moment together::

<><><><><><><><><><>

“Kiri, you with us?”

That voice was Ashido. Yeah, that was definitely her giggle that followed. Funny, because he was just dreaming about her.

“You were, were you?” she snorted. Someone else snickered.

Yeah, he’d dreamt they were at the amusement park. Kaminari got sick on a roller coaster. Ashido got cotton candy stuck in her hair. He’d nearly pissed himself in the haunted house.

Laughter erupted, jarring him out of the last remnants of sleep that were clouding his mind. He blinked up at his three friends, who were all grinning down at him, their giggles dying down to welcome him back to the world of the living.

“Do you always talk in your sleep, dude?” Sero asked, holding his stomach after laughing too hard.

“Uh, I wouldn’t know,” he retorted. “I’m sleeping.”

“Oh my gosh, that was hilarious. My face hurts from smiling so much,” Kaminari stated, wiping a tear from his eye. He forced himself to turn serious after a few moments of collecting himself. “Hey, Kirishima, I’m really sorry about electrocuting you yesterday. I panicked, and I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. It’s just, Bakugou is terrifying on a good day! When he turned on me and something was definitely wrong, like, he had claws and slit eyes and he looked like he wanted to cut me to shreds, I couldn’t stop myself! It happened so fast, I—”

“It’s okay, Kaminari,” Kirishima stopped him there. “I totally get it. Mistakes happen. It was probably a good thing you stopped Bakugou when you did. He could’ve killed someone.”

Ashido leaned in to give Kirishima a big hug. He was thankful for the warm embrace. Other than the new gauze Recovery Girl must have applied after he passed out, he’d slept shirtless and his blanket had fallen down to his waist at some point in the night. He could feel the goosebumps on his arms.

“How are you feeling?” Ashido asked after pulling away.

“Better. Groggy, definitely, but it’ll pass once I’m up and moving. Thanks.”

She pinched his cheek before standing up straight and snapping her fingers at Kaminari. “Fetch the gifts, peasant.”

He stuck out his tongue in her direction before turning toward a few plastic bags on a table across the room. He brought them over to Kirishima’s bed and dumped the contents at his feet. “Ta-da!”

It was everything Kirishima had purchased yesterday at the mall. His crocs and hair dyes and gel and the red sweatshirt. He was so relieved to see them. He’d spent nearly ten-thousand yen on everything, and after Bakugou had been hit he’d just dropped everything and didn’t think twice about it.

“Whoa! I can’t believe you guys found all my stuff,” he beamed, the smile evident on his face. “Bakugou’s too?”

“You bet!” Ashido winked. “We left his two bags outside his dorm, since the door was locked. I doubt anyone would have the balls to touch something of Bakugou’s anyway, so I don’t think we have to worry about it going missing before he gets back.”

“Speaking of Bakugou,” Sero said warily, “how’s he doing? I mean, I know you just woke up, but you were with him last night, right?”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m honestly not sure how to answer that one. He was definitely still struggling with the quirk when I left him last night, but he’s a fighter.”

“What exactly did the quirk do you him?” Kaminari asked. “He looked terrible. And he had murder in his eyes, like, more intense than usual.”

Kirishima chuckled at that, but he didn’t really find it funny. “Aizawa kind of explained it to me. It’s like he’s stuck in some—how’d he say it?—oh, ‘animalistic rage’ is what he said. And it changed some of his appearance, but I’m sure you guys saw that. I’m actually going to visit him in a little while.”

“You are?” Ashido asked excitedly. “Where is he? Is he still here, at UA?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s in a safe room. But I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to see him right now. He could hurt you guys. The only reason I can go is because of my quirk.”

Ashido pouted. “I know you’re right, but it still sucks. Just keep us updated on Blasty, okay?”

Kirishima offered her a smile. “I will. And I’ll tell him you guys said hi.”

Sero stood then and stretched, cracking some of his joints. “So, Recovery Girl said you should be good to go once you were up. Wanna grab some breakfast?”

Kirishima could feel his mouth water at the thought. “An omelet sounds delicious right now.”

After Kirishima cleaned himself up, removed the last of the bandaging from his torso, and threw on his new red sweatshirt and his fresh crocs, the proclaimed “Bakusquad” made their way to the cafeteria. It was a Saturday, and other students were filing in and out at their leisure. Kirishima caught sight of Midoriya and his own group of close-knit friends, and they waved to one another.

Kirishima inhaled his food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took the first bite. His friends chattered amongst themselves, and he half listened to their conversations, but he didn’t say a word other than a grunt of affirmation here and there until his plate was clean.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he was just leaving to head back to the dorms. It was Aizawa.

Heard Recovery Girl gave you the OK. Visit Bakugou whenever you want. Text me when you get here and I’ll let you in.

Kirishima smiled down at his phone. “Guys!” he said, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll catch you later. Aizawa just texted me with the go-ahead to see Bakugou.”

Ashido slumped, but she waved him off. “Alright, but tell him we wanna visit soon too!”

“You got it,” he said, spinning on his heels and heading over to the building he remembered Aizawa leading him to last night.

Once he’d been buzzed in by Aizawa and lead down the elevator to the sub surface level that held his best friend, Kirishima suddenly found his stomach fluttering with nerves. He wasn’t sure which Bakugou was waiting for him: the angry, feral Bakugou he’d fought on the street yesterday or his angry, less-feral-more-bitter friend that he cared so much for.

Or maybe it was the Bakugou he’d said goodnight to. The quiet, careful Bakugou who didn’t dare hurt his friend. Who fought the quirk with every last ounce of strength he had to hold himself back.

When Kirishima peered through the one way mirror, it wasn’t a sight he’d expected. It was just Bakugou, still obviously under the effects of the quirk judging by the black, clawed hands and cat-like eyes, and he was just laying on his side on the shredded mattress, head propped up by his elbow. He was finishing up a bowl of rice and chicken, and he had a manga in front of him that he slowly flipped through.

“He’s been like this for the past hour,” Aizawa informed him. “He goes between ballistic and himself pretty often. I’ve had a few conversations with him this morning, but no one can get near him yet without him attacking. If you want to go in, I’ll allow it, but I want you to stay away from physical contact.”

Kirishima nodded. “I mean, Bakugou isn’t a very touchy-feely kind of guy on a good day.”

Aizawa swiped his key card through a small device attached to Bakugou’s door. The little red light turned green. “Well, he’s been asking when you’d come by.”

Kirishima was genuinely surprised by that. “Really? Why me?”

Aizawa sighed. “Because you’re his best friend.”

Kirishima tried to suppress his smile, but he knew he was failing miserably. Aizawa waited patiently while Kirishima pulled off his new sweatshirt and tossed it onto a chair before he finally opened the door for his student. He’d raised an eyebrow, surely wondering why the redhead decided to go shirtless, but he didn’t ask questions.

As soon as Kirishima stepped through the door, Bakugou looked up at him and stared for a long moment. His face slowly twisted into a snarl. Kirishima suddenly felt pretty self conscious and a hint of fear at what his friend might do next, but before he could say anything, Bakugou was yelling.

“SHITTY HAIR! WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR SHIRT?!”

Kirishima stopped breathing. His heart might have skipped a beat. His lips twitched into a smile, so grateful to have his Bakugou back to normal, at least for now. “I was wearing my new sweatshirt, and I didn’t want you to ruin it.”

“Well, fuck. Go put it back on, dipshit.”

“But what if you get all angry again and tear it up? I like it.”

“I’m not gonna do that, fucker. And if I did, I’d just buy you a new damn sweatshirt.”

Kirishima smirked. “What, you’re not enjoying the gun show?”

He flexed, and the look on Bakugou’s face was priceless. His cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, and he turned away to glare at the wall. It took Kirishima a moment to realize he was blushing.

He put his arms down and turned back toward the door, but the smile was still evident on his face. “Alright, I’ll put it back on. But don’t ruin it, Bakugou. I swear, I’ll be really pissed off.”

Aizawa was already standing at the door holding the red sweatshirt. Kirishima thanked him and pulled it back on before making his way over to the wall beside the head of Bakugou’s bed. He slid down to the floor into a criss-cross position and stretched his spine.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou said then, a seriousness in his voice Kirishima wasn’t used to. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. For hurting you… and ruining your favorite shirt… and probably losing all of the shit we bought.”

Kirishima blinked. “What?”

Bakugou glared at him. “I’m not gonna say it again, Shitty Hair, so accept it.”

“Oh! No, dude, listen. You don’t have to apologize for anything. The Bakusquad found all of our stuff. See?” He used a hand to refer to his sweatshirt and crocs. “I bought these yesterday when you were looking at those headphones. Ashido said they left your stuff at the dorms. And don’t worry about the shirt! It was getting pretty old anyway. I have lots of favorite shirts.”

“No, that one was the favorite. And I fucking ruined it.”

Kirishima tilted his head. “You were under a quirk, Bakugou. Really, it’s okay. I was way more worried about you than some stupid shirt.”

Bakugou looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but he managed to restrain himself. Instead, he said so quietly, “You called me Katsuki yesterday.”

Kirishima looked up at the blond, surprised. “Uh, yeah. I did. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just… I thought maybe it would help? Like, help you to remember yourself, and overcome the quirk.”

Bakugou wet his lips. “Yeah. It did. Help, I mean. It did help me. So, uh, thanks.”

They were both quiet for a few long moments. Kirishima thought about the way his name sounded in Bakugou’s voice yesterday. He wasn’t going to point out that Bakugou had returned the favor in calling him Eijirou, thinking maybe he didn’t remember it. Kirishima didn’t want to make things awkward. Er, more awkward.

“You can keep doing it. If you want.”

Kirishima stared up at Bakugou, trying to read his calm expression, but the blond wouldn’t look at him. “Huh?”

He sighed through his nose. “You can keep calling me by my given name. I wouldn’t mind it. Fuck.”

Kirishima went light headed for a second. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod—!

He gave Bakugou a bright smile and a thumbs up. “Sure, Katsuki! And feel free to use mine too!”

Bakugou sank to the floor a few feet from Kirishima, leaning back against the cot. He had his arms wrapped around himself protectively. His face was still flushed pink.

“If you don’t want to waste your day here, it’s fine,” Bakugou spoke. “It’s boring as fuck, I get that. It’s Saturday, and I’m sure there are a lot of better ways you could be spending it.”

Kirishima laughed. “No way, dude. I’d rather spend time with my best bro, even if we’re stuck here. You’re not a chore, Katsuki.”

He seemed to shrink in on himself. “Well, you’d better fucking bring some cards or something next time. I’m not a conversationalist like you and the other extras.”

Kirishima made a mental note of that. “Cards. Gotcha. Anything else you’d like?”

Bakugou’s eyes tightened. “Mm. There’s a book I was reading that I left on my desk. You still have the other key to my dorm, eh?”

“Yep! So, cards and book. Got it. Just text me if you need anything else. You have your phone, right?”

He grunted in confirmation. “Aizawa has it. I don’t want it because I’ll probably just fucking break it. I’ll have him text you.”

Kirishima nodded. He’d stretched out his legs so their feet were almost touching. Aizawa was pretty persistent on avoiding physical contact, but Kirishima couldn’t help wondering if a simple touch really could throw his friend into a frenzy. He didn’t want to ruin the moment though, because he really did enjoy being with Bakugou.

It was at that moment Kirishima noticed the jolt that seemed to pass through the blond. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking as he stood in a rush.

“You should go,” Bakugou said quickly, unable to look him in the eyes.

Kirishima quickly scrambled to his feet as well, aware that Bakugou stood between him and the exit. “Are you alright?”

“Get out, Eijirou.”

Kirishima flew past Bakugou on his way to the door, but he stopped to look back at the blond. “I’ll be back later.”

Bakugou clutched his head—the source of his pain—but he managed a nod.

And with that, Kirishima left.

+++++++++++++

Oh boy oh boy I love these kids. They take up too much of my brain capacity. Anywho! I have two more chapters planned and I think that’ll be it. I have many a fic planned, and as much as I love this lil guy (which was honestly supposed to be a oneshot), I’m just about ready to move on. Also, I love prompt suggestions !!!???? So like ???? Please send them my way ???????!!!

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and stick around for the last two chapters (which will hopefully be up by the end of the week). Have a lovely night, friends

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

Read part 6 here

8/19/2020

[odilestory]

Two Years - Super!Reader x Tim Drake

pretty long one shot with Jon’s sister (superman’s daughter) and Tim Drake. *SLIGHT NSFW BUT NOTHING SERIOUS* towards the end. also mostly based off Super Sons,,,enjoy! 

--

Being a Kent is about as normal as you’d expect. Obviously, my brother and I inherited my dad’s powers, those being dominant traits (I’m guessing). I remember when I gained my first ability; the super hearing. I was around three years old, in preschool. Now, when you first get the ‘super traits,’ you can’t control them. At all. So, when a kid woke up crying during nap-time, to me it sounded like someone was blowing a trumpet right next to my ear, and I woke up bawling as well. At six, I got the heat vision while in the bath. Thankfully, mom figured out she better take me out of the tub before I boiled myself. At seven I got the strength. I saw two kids fighting on the playground and decided to step in. I interfered by pushing one of the kids, but much to my dismay I didn’t push him to the ground. I pushed him across the school yard. That was an interesting call home. But, by far the most exciting power I gained was when I was eight. That’s when I started flying, and boy was dad excited. Mom was concerned, but she trusted me (even though I was eight) and she trusted dad to help me with it. We had just gotten a trampoline (I think it was a birthday present for me and Jon) and of course, I had to try it out. I remember Mom holding Jon next to Dad while I jumped. One, two, three, and on the fourth, I stayed up there. Just hovering. I looked at my Dad, confused at first, but soon we both smiled at each other and he flew up to meet me. The rest of the powers came over the years. Flying will always be a major perk of being a Kent.

Now I’m seventeen and Jon is ten. I’m a senior and Jon is in fifth grade. We both go to the West-Reeve School, of course he’s in their elementary program and I’m in the high school. We used to go to public school, but Bruce (Dad’s apparent best friend and semi-local billionaire) made quite a donation to the school and insisted that Jon and his son Damian, a.k.a. Robin (did I mention Bruce is Batman?), go there in exchange for their own heroes-and-vigilantes-in-training-headquarters as I like to call it. I had friends at the school, so when Dad told me Jon was going and asked if I would like to, I said sure. The only catch being I had to drive them back to our house everyday. Damian usually stayed at our house after school to do homework. To get home, he usually got zeta beamed back to Gotham via their HQ. Occasionally, I use the head quarters as well, but mostly to monitor Jon and Damian. Some nights, however, I meet up with Batgirl in Gotham and patrol with her under the mantle Supergirl, soon to be Superwoman in about eight months. We’re good friends with the bat-family. After all, I drive one of them home everyday. They’re kinda like my older brothers and sisters in a way. Whenever we would visit them or visa versa, Dick would always entertain me while Dad and Bruce talked about League stuff.  Jason taught me a lot about self defense, and even though I would probably never need to know, he taught me how to shoot a gun (much to Dad’s disapproval). Damian was like the annoyingly rude little brother that I never knew I wanted. Steph, Cass, and Babs are like my sisters. We even have a group chat dedicated to bitching about our brothers. Tim was different though. As embarrassing as it is, I’ve had a crush on him ever since I met him at a Wayne Enterprises party. I think I was thirteen and he was fourteen. We kinda hit it off at the party I guess, and we started hanging out a lot. His smart matched my smart, and his stupid matched my stupid, even though at times we were either smarter or more stupid than the other. Not long after I caught feelings, and after about a year and a half of crushing, he asked me out when I was fifteen and he was sixteen. Shockingly, we’ve been able to keep it a secret from both our parents. Being vigilantes helps a lot, I’ll just say I’m on patrol with Steph or Babs and instead hang out at his house while Bruce is gone. Alfred and Babs are the only ones who know, and they’re sworn to secrecy and trusted as well. However, I get the feeling Dick knows too; he always gives me these looks when I’m around him and Tim. I’m not worried though, like Alfred, he’s to be trusted.

—

On this particular day, Friday, I had plans to go out with Tim. It was our two year anniversary of him asking me out. I never really kept track of anniversaries, but he seemed to enjoy the thought of it, so I went along. He said he had something special planned, even though as far as I knew we were doing the usual and just hanging out at his place while Bruce was on patrol. We didn’t get to see each other as much lately. He had a lot of cases and he started his internship, which meant he was extra busy. Somehow, he still found time for our time. My first mistake of the day happened before we left the school parking lot. Jon had a big school project on a try-fold that he wanted to put in the trunk. I was waiting for them to get to the car, sitting in the driver seat, texting Tim. I was in the middle of typing when Damian got in the passenger seat and informed me that Jon needed to put his project in the back. I couldn’t open the trunk without the keys (my car wasn’t the newest thing ever), so I left my phone, open, on the seat as I went out to open the trunk for Jon. Of course, in the minute I was out of the car, Damian had noticed I left my phone open. And he found it interesting how I was texting Tim. So, being the sneak he was, he went through as many messages as he could, undoubtedly finding the short “love you”s and “babe”s hidden somewhere in there, because when I got in the car again, we had this weird look on his face like he was trying not to laugh. Or gag. The second mistake wouldn’t have been such a huge factor if Damian hadn’t looked through my phone, but he did. So this didn’t help his developing theory disprove itself: I told the boys I needed to stop at the store and said that I’d buy them a snack if they wanted to come with. I really needed to go to get coffee. For Tim. I figured it would be a nice gift for him. I knew his favorite kind, and the store was on the way home, so I took advantage. Before we started driving I finished my text to Tim, saying “see you later :)” during which I caught Damian trying to take a peek at my phone, but he tried to play it off as stretched him neck. We got out of the car in the store parking lot, I locked the car, and walked into the store with my hand on Jon’s shoulder and Damian on my other side. I made a B-line for the coffee, and left Damian and Jon to pick out their food. It took we a while to find the right kind, so both the boys had found me and their snacks before I could find the right coffee. The boys were quietly bickering next to me. I found it, and picked it up off the shelf checking the price. Damian was quick to notice the one I had picked. He smirked and said, “Is that the one you’re buying?” I responded without looking at him. “Yep. Why’d you ask?” “Well, I couldn’t help but notice that Drake quite enjoys that brand and roast. Any significance?” Damn that kid. Him and his detective mind. Then Jon had to help him out and interrogate me too. “Yeah, sis, you don’t even drink homemade coffee, you only get iced mochas from the shop. Why are you buying it?” They were trying to get me. “A present for a friend.” Was the best I thought of in the moment. “Tt.” Damian made that weird noise and turned, walking to the register. I followed, cursing myself under my breath. If he had suspicion, he was gonna tell Bruce, and then Bruce would call my Dad, and then everyone would know. Including the media. I can just see it now: “WAYNE WARD DATING JOURNALISTS’ DAUGHTER!” Great. The ride back to our house was a nightmare. I could hear Damian murmuring fractions of sentences to himself. He was most likely debating how he should tell Bruce.  When we got back to the house, as I unlocked the door, I heard Damian whisper to Jon, “We need to talk. In your room. And she can’t hear.” I scoffed and set my bag down on the couch, going to get a snack from the kitchen. Mom and Dad were still at work and would be for another hour or so. “Sis, me and Damian are going to my room, and no super hearing! We are having a confidential conversation!” “You got it, hun!” I yelled as Jon ran up to stairs to his room, Damian trailing behind. It was a rule in our house that if someone explicitly said for no powers to be used, then we weren’t allowed to use powers. It’s a big trust and loyalty thing, often used as punishment. Instead of grounding us, we weren’t allowed to fly or use super strength or speed. Which, in a way I guess is grounding us. I decided to get the little weekend homework I had done before my night out. I was going to meet Barbara for dinner and catch up time at 6, and then be at Tim’s at 8. I had never been over there that early, it was usually always after 10, but Tim said Bruce was away on business, so he would’t be there. And Damian went on patrol with Dick whenever Bruce left him alone, so we didn’t have to worry. I was done with homework by the time Mom and Dad got home, around 4:30, and Damian left around then as well, making sure to give me a look before he walked out the door. I greeted my parents as usual when they came home. “Hey!” I said when they walked in “How was work?” “mm, it was good. Nothing special today. Did Damian already leave?” Mom said, giving me a kiss on the forehead before setting down her things. “Yep. Just a few minutes before you guys got here.” “How was your day, sweetie?” Dad lifted me up from my chair and spun me around a few times, making Mom laugh. “And where’s my son?” “Your son is upstairs, hopefully doing homework. My day was good.” Jon ran down the stairs and jumped onto Dad’s shoulders, making him stumble. They started their own conversation as I walked to the kitchen to meet Mom. “Do we have anything going on tonight?” I jumped up and sat on the counter, watching as she took out a snack for herself. “I don’t think so. Why, do you have a date?” “A date? Not on my watch!” Dad commented from the living room, earning a look from his wife. I laughed a bit nervously. “No, but I was planning on meeting Babs for dinner at 6 and then maybe helping her on patrol. Is that ok?” “Fine with me. Clark?” She looked to him. “Alright with me. Just be home before 12. She can handle the rest of the night on her own. And call me if you need any help.” “Ok, Dad.” I laughed and hopped off the counter, putting the books I was done with back in my bag and headed up to put it in my room for the weekend. Before I made it halfway up the steps, I was interrogated again. “What’s this coffee for?” Mom yelled from the kitchen. I froze, but gave her the same answer I gave the boys. “Present for a friend. I’m gonna drop it off on my way to Gotham.” “Ah.”

The rest of the night went without conflict. It took me around thirty minutes to fly to Gotham, so I left at 5:15. I liked to be early. I headed out with a kiss from Mom and Dad and a hug from Jon, a change of clothes and the coffee securely in a bag. I landed in Gotham and changed into civilian clothes and walked to the restaurant Babs said to meet at. I gawked at the sight of it. It looked too fancy and expensive. Bruce was definitely paying for this one. Over dinner, I would find I was right. We just talked about stuff in general. She asked me how it was going with me and Tim, and I told her about our planned meeting. She teased me about it, but in a sisterly way. After dinner, we parted ways and I headed to the manor. I arrived promptly at eight and was greeted by Alfred. “Good evening, Miss Kent. Here for Tim, I presume?” “Hi Alfred! Yup, is he upstairs?” I entered as he stepped aside. “I believe so. Is there a special occasion tonight?” I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “Two year anniversary, actually.” I smiled at him and he smiled back. “A congratulations is in order, then. Might I ask when you plan on telling Master Bruce?” I sighed. “I have a feeling he’ll find out soon enough.” I turned and headed to Tim’s room. “Whatever you say, miss. If you don’t find him in his room, check the theatre. I saw him there earlier.” “Thanks Alfred!” I hurriedly walked up to stairs and stopped at Tim’s door. I could hear him talking to himself. Cute. I knocked on the door, and then heard some shuffling and a laptop shut. I opened the door and saw Tim finishing writing a note on his desk. I set my bag down on the end of his bed. His room was clean. A rarity. He looked up and smiled at me. “Its been a while.” He said smoothly. “I know.” I walked over to him and put my arms around his neck, and his went around my waist. “Boy, have I got a lot to tell you.” “Well, we’ve got plenty of time. How long can you stay?” “Dad said to be home my twelve. I can stay ‘till 11 just to be safe.” “Sounds good to me.” He smiled and kissed me. Not quickly, but not too slowly either. Maybe for two or three seconds we held onto it. We pulled away at the same time, smiling. “So, what’ve you got planned, lover boy?” I sat on his bed and watched him walk over to me. He stood in front of me, hands on his hips. “If it’s cool with you, I thought we could just hang out. Nothing super special, just fluffy stuff. Watch a movie, cuddle, make out. The basics.” Tim was usually kinda shy and awkward, but we had become so close that he almost reminded me of Dick. Outgoing, and more forward. As just witnessed with the “make out” thing. I laughed lightly. “Sounds perfect. Before we get into it though,” I reached into my bag and pulled out the coffee. “Here’s this. It’s not a lot but you seem like you could use it.” He got this dorky excited look on his face. “Thanks, babe. You didn’t have to get me this, but thank you. So much. I’m sure it’ll be helpful.” He took it out of my hands and gave me a kiss on the forehead, then went to set the bag of grounds on his desk. He turned to me. “Theatre?” He held out his hand. “Theatre.” I took it and we made our way downstairs. We picked an action/thriller movie that got pretty good ratings. Tim was picky about movies. Lucky for him, we barely watched the movie. We were either talking to each other while cuddling or complaining about the movie’s production. We were both quite the critics. Within the last thirty minutes of the movie, we got into a heated make out session that included removing a few garments of clothing. Shirts were no more, but I kept my bra on, I don’t think he minded. I was sitting on his lap, legs hooked behind his back, on one of the couches in the theater room. Last time I checked the time, it was just ten ‘o’ clock. No one was supposed to be home until at least 1 a.m., so we had plenty of time My hand started tracing shapes on his chest and abs, he then moved kiss my neck and collar bones, trying to give me a hickey, earning a soft moan from me. I tried not to be loud. I didn’t want to scar Alfred. We had gone farther than just make out before. We had gone all the way a few times, and I thought tonight would be one of those nights. But before he could take his lips off my neck, we heard: “Drake?” We looked at each other with panic. We were making out, shirtless, and Damian was about to catch us. How embarrassing. “Drake? Are you home?” I quickly handed him his shirt and he found mine, I got off of him and sat next to him, quickly putting it back on and watching him put on his. Damian was gonna get it for ruining my night. “What do we do?” I whispered to him. “I don’t know! If you go upstairs he’ll see you!” “I could speed past?” “He’d still notice…” “Shh! I hear his footsteps,” I put a finger to his lips. “Tim he’s coming in here!” He sighed. We both knew there was nothing we could do. He didn’t even have to say anything, we both knew. Damian walked in. He laughed. The little demon laughed! “So, my suspicions were correct. Between the texts and the coffee, I knew you’d be here, Kent. I told Dick I needed to stop by, and now that I know I was right, I’ll be on my way. Good night, Drake, Kent.” He laughed as he walked out, clearly pleased. After he was gone, Tim and I just looked at each other. We burst out laughing. I fell into his chest and we hugged each other, just enjoying each other’s company. It was almost eleven now, I would have to leave soon. “Thanks for the coffee, babe.” “Thanks for the hickey, sweetie.” I gave him a kiss, said goodbye, gave him a final kiss, and flew off.

I got home at 11:34. I unlocked the door and saw Dad in the kitchen. I figured he had just gotten back from a crisis. “Welcome home.” He walked over to me. He looked tired. “Were you in the city?” I asked as he hugged me. “Yeah, had to check something out. It wasn’t major. Only took an hour.” “Ah. Well, I’m goin’ to bed. Night.” I made my way to the stairs, but again, I was stopped before I made it upstairs. “Why do you smell like…cologne?” I froze again, and sighed. I gave up. I walked back down and sat on the couch. He sat beside me. “Who’s the boy?” I put my head in my hands. He put his hand on my back. I could feel him smiling. “Tim Drake…” He laughed and pulled me to his side. He wasn’t upset at all. He was probably glad it was someone he knew. “How long?” Here goes the shocker. Slowly, I spit it out. “Two…years…” I winced, awaiting reaction. “Two years!?” He pretty much yelled. I heard Mom and Jon coming down the stairs to see what was wrong. I hung my head back on the couch. This was gonna take some explaining.

[harrysmeadow]

HELD - CHAPTER 10

// CATCH UP HERE // PLAYLIST // HARRYS INSTA // ERINS INSTA //

A/N - Oh my God, I updated!??! Less than a month after I posted the previous chapter!? It’s a miracle!

Thank you so much to everyone who sent me a lovely message about the last chapter, it was the most feedback I’ve ever had, and it really motivated me to write this chapter! I really hope you like it, and again I’d love to know what you think! My ask is open!

As always a special thank you to my gorgeous besties @islareeveswriting and @cuddlemusclestyles for all their help with this chapter, and general life advice. I love you both very, very much.

“Erin? What do you think of this one?” Harry called over to me.

It was a dreary Saturday afternoon, rain clouds had been hanging low, grey and threatening in the sky for hours, meaning Harry and I had continuously put off our shopping trip until we really couldn’t wait any longer. Even though we were supposed to be shopping for a present for Izzy’s birthday, we’d somehow ended up in the men’s section in Fenwick’s department store, and we had yet to buy anything for the upcoming birthday girl.

He was stood in front of a long mirror, twisting and turning each and every way trying to figure out whether the floral shirt he held in his hands would suit him or not. I stopped just behind him, looking at him in the mirror and smiling when his lips jutted into a pout, showing his conflicting thoughts.

“I like it.” I said confidently. “It suits you.” But then again, the boy could wear a potato sack and still look like he could grace the pages of Vogue.

“Are you sure? If I wear it tonight we won’t clash?” He asked seriously, spinning round to face me.

A laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head trying to reassure him. “I’m absolutely sure, Harry.”

Tonight would be the first night since arriving back for second term that my housemates and I, would be going ‘out, out’, and it was all thanks to Niall Horan. The boy was nothing if not persistent; for the past week or so my day would not have been complete without him asking or texting me about the night out that I had apparently promised to organise.

Even though I’d tried to put it off at first, after awhile I realised I could probably do with a night out with my friends. The first few weeks back had really got on top of me, and I was ready to not think about coursework and projects for at least one night.

After paying for the shirt, we left the shop hand in hand, making our way through the centre of town discussing idea’s of what we could buy Izzy. I knew I would be buying her another charm for her bracelet, but there needed to be something else.

“Oh! I know!” Harry suddenly exclaimed. “Sam text me the other day saying Josie and Chris were buying her a turntable, we should get her some old records so she has something to play on it!”

“That’s a great idea!” I gushed, but honestly with the way he was smiling, so clearly proud of himself with the idea, he could have suggested buying her socks and I would have agreed.

After a quick Google, Harry and I made our way to a small independent record shop just outside of the town centre. The shop front looked old and weathered, the pale blue paint that covered the window panes and door frame was faded and peeling away, and the rusty sign that was swinging above the door that said ‘Butler Records’, squeaked as it moved back and forth in the wind.

Stepping into the shop, the bell above the door chimed and it felt as though I’d been transported back in time. Posters of artists from all genres and eras covered the walls from floor to ceiling, and the faint scratching of a record finishing, sounded as if it was playing in another room not too far away.

Harry stepped out from behind me, making his way over to the large selection of records in the middle of shop. The table ran the entire length of the place, and was divided into sections; first by genre, then alphabetically.

“Do you think they have the Spice Girls!?” I beamed, as I trailed behind him and began to scan over the rows of records, hoping something worthy of a gift would jump out.

“Oh my God.” Harry mumbled, and I could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“What!? You know Izzy loves them!” I exclaimed, struggling to understand why he didn’t share my enthusiasm for the classic girl power group.

“I know she does!” He agreed, stopping in front of a row and trailing his fingers down the edge, scanning over the labels until he found what he wanted. “I just can’t believe we find a place like this, that’s literally packed with every kind of music you could think of, and you ask for the Spice Girls.”

“They are a treasured British music act Harry, and you can’t deny it.”

****

Whenever I ended up at the end of a queue outside a club, I always regretted my life choices that led to that moment. I hated the cold. Why is it not acceptable to go clubbing in a jacket? Rosie, Nicola, Jamie, Adam and I, stood huddled together like penguins as we waited in line to gain entrance to Vision. Harry and Niall had already arrived, and I’d sent our groups drink order in a text to Niall with the hope that we could skip the line at the bar when we finally got in.

I jumped from foot to foot, rubbing my hands up and down my arms trying to keep warm in the freezing night air. The temperature hadn’t risen above single figures in weeks, but that obviously hadn’t stopped the group of freshers that were stood in front of us in the line, from getting dolled up in their short skirts and dresses.

I had entered and left that phase very quickly after getting to uni. I now prefered to take a ‘warm up nap’ before going out, instead of spending ages getting ready. I felt like I was wasting my time applying hordes of makeup that I wouldn’t want to take off properly at 3am when I came in, and I’d take comfort over style any day when it came to choosing an outfit.

I winced as I watched one of the girls in front of me twist her ankle in her stilettos while attempting to move over the cobbles.

“Remember when we made that mistake?” Rosie giggled in my ear, nodding her head in the direction of the poor girls whose wobbly legs made them look like Bambi on ice.

I looked down at my own feet, surrounded by a comfy layer of rubber and canvas, and thanked the heavens that we’d found fairly quickly in first year that Vision didn’t have a strict dress code, and that they’d let you in wearing tatty old converse. My gorgeous black heels that my parents had bought me for my eighteenth birthday, hadn’t been out of my wardrobe in months.

The line was slowly but surely moving along, the music from inside becoming louder as we got closer to the door.

“That is sickeningly cute.” Nicola huffed over my shoulder.

“What is?” I asked, confused.

“That.” She said, pointing to my phone in my hand where a message from Harry lit up the screen.

I’m still worried we’re gonna clash with me wearing this shirt you know. x

“Where did you find him, and how do I get one?” She joked.

I looked down at my outfit, a simple black slip dress with lace detailing around the edge, over a plain white t-shirt, (the first years might be able to stand the cold, but I certainly needed layers) before sending a reassuring text to Harry, that he had no need to worry about his shirt.

“She’s completely gone for him.” I heard Rosie mutter to Nic, as I dropped my phone into my bag.

The thing was, I couldn’t deny it. I was gone for him, or I was well on my way. Growing up with Izzy, Sam and Evie, I always found it easier to slink back and blend in, rather than fight for attention. But the way he looked at me made me feel so special, and wanted, like I was the only other person on earth. Sure he hadn’t kissed me, but I knew his reasons, and I knew that when the time came, everything before that moment would feel like nothing.  

****

Weaving my way through the crowd, it didn’t take me long to spot Harry and Niall stood at the end of the bar; and as we neared them I was very glad to see they were surrounded by an amount of drinks that surely couldn’t have just been for the both of them.

“Hi!” I beamed brightly to the both of them when I approached them.

“Hi, Sweets.” Harry replied with a smile. “This is yours.” He said, grabbing one of the many glasses off of the bar and handing it to me. “Now, which is everyone else's?”

Harry had met all of my flatmates in the past few weeks, so I introduced Niall to my friends as everyone gathered round. Introductions were made, drinks were passed round, and the conversations started flowing immediately.

I stuck close to Harry's side, and wasted no time snaking an arm around his back, tucking myself securely into his side. It was my safe space, encased in his warmth, and his familiar scent surrounding my senses made me feel at home. I felt a soft kiss being placed to the top of my head, and even though the music was pounding, and conversation was flowing around us, it was like my senses tuned themselves to sync with him, as I had no trouble understanding the whisper he spoke to my ear. “You’re so pretty.” He uttered, and the butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in my stomach, suddenly burst to life as if they’d been set free from a cage at the sound of his voice.

“Thank you.” I replied, leaning up on my toes to present him with a peck on the cheek.

“Love the shirt Harry!” Rosie gushed, sneakily sending me a wink as she leant across us to grab her drink from the bar, and I didn’t miss the satisfied smile that took over his features.

“Thanks!” He replied, looking chuffed as he smoothed down the fabric over his front.

“You do look great. I told you not to worry.”

“I know.” He drawled, running his fingertips down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps and lacing his fingers through mine when he reached my hand. “But I knew you’d look gorgeous, and I would never want to show you up.”

I groaned deeply, rolling my eyes at his comment. He was unfairly charming. I tugged my hand from his grasp, playfully poking him in the chest. “First of all, you have got to stop doing that -”

“What!?” He shrieked incredulously.

“Being stupidly nice, and complimenting me all the time. You know I like you, you don’t have to try so hard.” I teased, trying to hold back a giggle, as he tried to figure out whether he should be offended or not. “And second of all, you show me up everytime I’m with you. I’m constantly a mess, and you look like...that!” I gestured wildly at him, trying to somehow convey that I thought he looked like a Greek God, without inflating his ego too much.

“You do realise the more you put yourself down, the more I’m gonna keep going on about how amazing you are.” He smirked, and I grumbled childishly, attempting to disguise how flattered I really was.

I didn’t have chance to retaliate though, as Niall very charmingly pretended to be sick over our exchange.

“You two are disgusting.” He chided. “Now, if you can manage to pry yourselves away from each other for two minutes, I’d like to get this night started right. With shots.”

****

Surprisingly the night went on without a hitch. I didn't drink enough to get absolutely mortal, but I was definitely past tipsy. Niall had been quite the entertainer, drinking enough for the entire group of us really. His traditional Irish dancing had gone down a storm, I don’t think I’d laughed so much in ages. I noticed Nicola taking a particular interest in his Irish charm, as she laughed wildly at his jokes all night.

We decided to call it a night when Niall started crying when he remembered he didn't have any turkey dinosaurs in the freezer at home, and Rosie (who was about as far gone as Niall) started crying with him.

The bitter chill in the air hadn’t lifted when we left the club in the early hours of the morning, but the warm buzz flowing through my veins was enough to distract me from the temperature. A dull throb was pulsating in my ears as my body readjusted to normal levels of sound.

“Erin! Do you know? You’re Harry’s hero.” Niall slurred, gesturing between us with a drink in hand that was spilling onto the floor, how he’d managed to get out of the building with it I had no idea.

“What?” I laughed.

“Harry told me about you ages ago.”

“Oh really?” I asked, nudging Harry’s side playfully.

“Yeah.” He muttered, grabbing at my hand that was poking him in the side.

“What did you say!” I asked excitedly.

“I told Ni-”

“-He told me that you’re the reason he plays rugby.” Niall spoke matter-of-factly, and interrupting Harry’s own explanation. My eyes went wide at his confession, shooting to Harry in confusion; yet he didn’t stop Niall from continuing. “He said if you hadn’t helped him with his technique or something one time when you were 9-

“13” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

“-Whatever, said that he would have never got on the team at school, and that he wouldn’t be where he was now if ‘it wasn’t for Erin’.” He said bringing his hands up to form air quotes.

“Is that true?” I asked, suddenly feeling very sober, my voice barely above a whisper, but like always we had no trouble understanding each other, and he nodded in confirmation.

I didn’t know if it was the alcohol that had heightened my emotions, or whether I would have reacted the same without the substance, but I felt tears pooling in my eyes.

Although the memory wasn’t clear in my mind, I could recall a time a good few years ago in which Izzy, Sam, Harry and I were playing rugby in the paddock at the front of the farmhouse. It must have been one of the last times I’d seen Harry before we met again only about 2 months ago.

He’d kept hold of this memory under lock and key for years, remembering me as someone who helped him achieve something he’d always wanted to do. Everything seemed to snap into place in my mind; why he was so hesitant to move us along any further, even why we’d argued so much when we first met. He’d had me placed on a pedestal in his mind for so long, he didn’t want to lose me completely; or worse, find out I wasn’t the person he’d thought me to be. When I’d shown up at Christmas being the grand high bitch herself, trying to protect Izzy, it must have taken a lot for him to face me being so horrid when all he’d remembered was me being nice.

He needed this time to make sure that he’d been right about me all along, when I’d given him reason to think otherwise.

“Can I come back to yours with you?” The words slipped past my lips before I’d realised what I’d said.

“You want to stay over?” He asked bewildered.

Even though we spent so much time time together, and a lot of that time was spent with us curled up to each other sleeping, we’d never spent a night together, each of us always going back to our own homes before we could settle down to sleep properly. I’d never had a problem with it, always respecting how Harry wanted to do things, plus we hadn’t kissed yet, so staying over had felt like we were doing things the wrong way round. But for some reason, this tiny piece of knowledge, this small little nugget of a memory seemed to push me further to him.

“I don’t have to! I just..It doesn’t matter, I’ll go back with Rosie and Nic.” I sputtered, pulling away from him towards where the others were waiting for a taxi, before he grabbed my wrist and turned me back to him. “Erin, you can stay.”

“Are you sure? I want to do this at your pace, and if you don’t want me to stay I’m fine with it. It’s always your choice, Harry.”

“I want you to stay. Plus, I could use the help taking care of Niall to be honest.” He grinned.

****

Soft passes of air tickled my cheek as I woke up the next morning; that and the gentle rise and fall beneath me told me without me having to open my eyes that Harry had pulled me close while I was asleep. Not that I minded at all, I loved being close to him.

I knew he was awake, I could feel his fingertips dancing across my back in different shapes and patterns, each touch on my skin leaving sparks that filtered through my bloodstream straight to my heart. I sighed in content, snuggling further into him and basking in his warmth. Harry was always warm, which made me never want to stop cuddling him. He was surrounded by an aura of calm, that was entirely comforting and soothing, like all my problems disappeared into nothing when I was around him. I was pretty sure that with the amount of alcohol I’d drunk last night, I should have at least had a headache, but I felt nothing other than his hands on my skin.

“I know we take naps together all the time, but waking up with you like this feels different.” He whispered sweetly into my hair, obviously realising I was awake.

“Good different?” I asked, groggily, the full weight of sleep not completely lifted from me as I struggled to open my eyes all the way. “Very good different.” He assured me, placing a kiss to the top of my head that rested against his chest.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks immediately at his words. Even though he was never shy with compliments, I found it hard not to get flustered. I think it was because I could almost feel the sincerity in his words. Harry only ever spoke with purpose, so when he told me I looked pretty, or that I was smart, or funny, his words held so much more meaning it took me a while to process.

As my fingers traced over the lines of black ink that were the beautiful tattoo’s on his arm, I thought back to last night, and how I was always able to see them out of the corner of my eye. When he’d held my hand and twirled me round as we danced, I threw my head back smiling with pure glee and adoration, I locked my eyes on the drawings on his skin so I didn’t lose my balance. When Rosie, Nic and I were having a gossip by the bar, and the boys were stood not too far away, probably laughing at one of Niall’s stories, I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to him. They trailed over his broad back that I clung to like a koala when we napped together, down his muscular arms that always held me so gently, and back up to his face, where as usual his gorgeous green eyes were ready to lock with mine.

“How come you never mentioned that story that Niall told last night?” I mumbled, suddenly remembering Niall’s drunken tale.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to bring that up.” He chuckled, and I shrugged. “I just thought you wouldn’t remember, and that I’d seem really weird because I had remembered.”

“I do remember! I think. But it’s not weird Harry, it’s sweet.” I cooed, bringing my fingers up to his forehead to brush away a curl that was about to fall in front of his eyes.

In that moment, I was convinced he was an angel. His gorgeous grin was glowing brighter than the morning sun that was peeking through the curtains, his green eyes were bright like jewels under a light in a museum, so fragile and precious, and his soft curls lay messily, but so elegantly framing his face. Yet of all the people in my life, I could think of no one more deserving of such beautiful features than Harry. His kind heart was reflected in the way his eyes could portray such emotion, and if it was true what they say about eyes being the window to the soul, I had no doubt that Harry’s was pure and beautiful; to me he was otherworldly, and I didn’t know what I’d done in my life to attract and deserve such beauty.

“Ok.” He smiled. “When do you think it was?”

I hummed to myself, tapping my finger against my chin while shuffling onto my tummy next to him, and propping up on my elbows to see him fully.

“I think, it was that day in summer, just before you and Izzy went back to school and I went back home. We were in the front paddock, because the grass was shorter and easier to run in than the back field, Sam always tripped on the longer grass when we played footie. Auntie Josie used to go mad about the stains on his jeans.” I laughed.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“I remember we were playing tag rugby, but that’s it really.” I admitted, feeling slightly ashamed that I couldn’t remember any more detail, but if the grin on his face was anything to go by, I’d say I’d guessed correctly.

I wondered how many other memories he had of me stashed away in his mind; sweet moments from the odd days we’d spent together as children at the farmhouse, passing glances out of car windows as my family and I left Holmes Chapel after a week long visit, or even just Izzy mentioning my name from time to time at school. I felt almost guilty that all I’d remembered of him back in December was his curly hair.

“You’re right, we were at the farmhouse at the end of the summer holidays.” He began, reaching out to twirl a lock of my hair through his fingers lazily, and I sighed happily at his delicate touch. “Iz and I were just about to go into Year Nine at school, so I was 13 and I knew when we went back I wanted to try out for the school’s rugby team. Sam and I had been playing all day, trying to practice and get better so I’d be more likely to get picked.”

I hummed in response, flopping myself back down next him again, and my brows furrowed as the memory became more vivid in my mind. Turning on my side to face him fully, really he didn’t look all that different to how he did all those years ago. With the soft grey duvet covering his broad chest and long legs, and the sprinklings of black ink that appeared every so often on his skin, the sleepy, pouty face that was so close to mine looked so young and innocent, it felt bad to want to kiss his rosy lips.

“But then you and Izzy came along.” He chuckled. “Insisting you wanted to join in too, and that girls are just as good at rugby as boys.”

“They are!”

“I know! You proved it that day anyway. You tackled me so many times I don’t know whether I was scared or in awe of you!” He laughed, and I could feel my cheeks heating as he recalled a younger, more confident Erin.

“You didn’t brag though, you were just playing the game, but afterwards you came over and told me that I was too slow offloading, and that’s why I always got tackled. You lined up Izzy and Sam on either side of me and helped me improve. I remember you stood off to the side watching us like a hawk screaming ‘NOW!’ whenever you wanted me to make the pass. I made the team that year, the year after that I was made Captain, and now, here I am.”

A moments silence passed between us as the weight of his words fell, heavy like fog that dropped on a winter’s night it had been building gradually until I could no longer make out anything around me. It wasn’t as though it was a grand revelation, it was a sweet and simple memory, but one that I hadn’t known I’d been a part of, and that held to much meaning to him. I was completely overwhelmed.

“Harry.” I whispered. Reaching out I traced my fingertips gently across his cheek, like I was making sure he was actually real. The warmth under his skin coloured his cheeks the most beautiful shade of pink, and I couldn’t help myself from letting my eyes drop to his lips that were that gorgeous colour too.

I wasn’t surprised when he began to lean forward, but I could see the nerves in his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders. In an attempt to ease his worry I let my own eyes flutter shut, and met him halfway.

His lips were soft and sweet as they brushed against mine in a gentle kiss, and my fingers laced themselves in the curls at the back of his neck as I attempted to anchor myself to him when I felt like I was floating.

Although the kiss was short, it was the sight of him when I opened my eyes that left me breathless; because he was just that. Breathtaking. Harry was beautiful, in every way possible, I’d been sure of that for a long time now, but the smile that graced his features in that moment was quite possibly the most stunning sight I’d ever seen.

[genjasolstice]

Resurfacing a piece gifted to Genevieve and Sunja following their wedding day a year ago. Happy Anniversary to the both of you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We were due for a Genja Solstice. 

I remember meeting the both of you for the first time. Genevieve, popping up near my desk, new from New York and more professional and tenured than the entire GREYSF staff put together (...we’d find out ...sorry, MJ), and Sunja coming to meet us in those first few days, hanging out near the window at work, catching up in the light of the sun and on whatever drama that particular day served up. I remember the friendship growing, mostly through G at work. And by way of being her work wife, falling in love with Sunja in parallel. You cannot hear the way G talks about Sunja and not - the depth of her caring is so evident in how she speaks of him. We have unbelievable memories from those first 2 years; from 2am pitch nights to 2am hamburgers.

I also remember Genevieve's feeble attempt at conniption fit over a New Years Eve - just wanting a proposal, a ring - to be Sunja’s wife. Pouting outside of the Make Out room trying to make a point - I’m laughing right now recalling it. I remember feeling that Sunja’s greatest art was his romance to Genevieve - the art pieces, the jean jackets, the hours toiling at night in secrecy to bring these things to life - and asking him to push a deadline up on the most precious form of romance and commitment - a proposal - would go against every fiber of his creativity. Good things take time.

Well thank the Lord you did it Sunja, and made way for us to have a front row seat to what would be one of the most iconic weddings I’ve attended in my lifetime.

Genja Solstice was the first break in the hiatus of weddings I’ve experienced for the last 4 years. I’ve never been able to complain about how many weddings/ showers/ bachelorettes I’ve got to juggle physically and financially for the summer – I just don’t have enough close friends. I’m okay with it. This past weekend in Dripping, though .... was a hell of a falling off the wagon.

I love you, Genevieve, and I love Sunja. Both magical in your existence, unapologetically yourselves, and unsparing in doling out your love for each other in personal, non-flashy ways. It feels so real. In Talib’s foreword, I registered with the notion of G being “scared to introduce her friends to Sunja… out of fear they would like him more.” He is a fresh thing, untarnished by the outside world, blossoming and loving and gentle. He is so damned likeable. And, as previously mentioned, he will forever be my Burger King - the only man I’ve truly ever eaten in non-tensioned silence with - peeling off to a relic burger joint two doors down while the rest of our friends partied for a birthday.

Genevieve, you command any room you enter, squinty-eyed as you hone focus on your next victim (you refuse to wear glasses whaaaaaat whyyyyyyy),** let laughs escape from deep in your soul, and are forward and open and strong in your convictions. I have once, rather famously said “To Genevieve, fact and opinion are the same.” Genevieve, if you were a professional athlete, I whole heartedly believe you’d play scrappy ... for the sheer fun of it.

Your bachelorette was the event I began to believe in humanity again. Before I touch on the supernaturality of the friend group, do know that I am a generally fear-laced, anxiety-prone human. I need alone time. I need sleep. I need deep and constant hydration. I need to talk about these things with whoever will listen. The love and fun of G’s friends that weekend taught me I might not need any of those things if I am enjoying myself and the company I keep, enough. The group of friends should be studied closely, appreciated for the individual traits and how they contribute to the ecosystem of the group. I felt like I was on safari, but if you got to hang out with the animals close up and they give you lots of compliments. People in the crew do what they want when they want to do it, with the team behind them cheering them on - usually with a “FUCK ME UP!”. They make decisions, and laugh together at the wrong ones, and prefer anything that makes for a better story.

G’s friends are family. There are actual real-life family units within this chosen family, but the sibling connection you feel and the peace a loving one provides is palpable. It contributes to the strength of the tribe. There is no competition. If there are big feelings, the words associated with them are released immediately - unsavory sentiments do not stay trapped within this group. I could speak on their beauty and palate of ethnicities and skin tones and hand movements and hair textures that I am absolutely mesmerized by; how they speak so freely, handle their business and work, and never seem tired. About how every conversation is a deep one. How intelligent each of them is - another thread of similarity none of them seem acknowledge but all just know. They understand life is for living, and they lean into experiences with reckless abandon. I learned this weekend they all said yes to moving to New York some years ago while rolling to Boyz Noize. They actually did it. I’m still shaken up.

The wedding weekend started slowly for me, at my weekend cottage, so beautiful and out in the open that I felt as though I was checking into rehab. I could have stayed there for 3 months of summer, easily. Doing nothing and losing my edge. There is a bench swing attached to an oak tree that I will bring my morning coffee to and swing for about an hour. After a stint of getting unreasonably lost with Uber (Does this story belong here? Probably not), I make way to the event, excited to see everyone but somehow overwhelmed by anxiety. Bird, my guardian angel, pulls me aside for a conversation that becomes something much bigger. About my thoughts holding me back, what I have to offer to this world, and how to tap into strength and be my own source of abundance, acceptance and love. It will trigger me to go home that night, stay up 3 hours listening to The Women Who Run with Wolves (completing the book by the end of the weekend), and decide I am going to make some cataclysmic changes in my life to direct it where it needs to go. Weirdly, I’m realizing, the weekend does become a rehab.

Saturday is a day and night out in Austin with new friends. I am out eating lunch alone, in one place, in all of Texas, and I see them outside. I had been texting with Amber and we had planned to meet up later, but by some stroke of luck, mid-bite of brisket, they materialized in front of me. Of all the restaurants, of all the cities, of all the people. They were only outside because Rachel wanted to buy a homeless woman food. The day was more good conversations, sugary shots from the bartender at Jackalopes Scates took $120 from the night prior, which would turn to me playing dice with Scates and 5 beautiful, dangerous, dirty, tattooed men (I thought Austin was going to have more cowboys?), bars bars bars, vegan bowls and drinks and dancing at gay bars. We become part of a block party on 6th Street while walking and eating pizza and checking out some snakes.

We find out the next day Courtney will much later lock herself out of her hotel room in the middle of the night while naked, and have to yank down a common area curtain to go speak to the concierge. You cannot repeat this story unless she brings it up because I don’t even think I am supposed to know it. In any event, Genevieve has more wonderful friends who I also want to be friends with for as long as they’ll let me.

Saturday is the wedding. G, despite it being your fucking wedding weekend, you make it a point to think of me, text me how much I mean to you on Friday night, and graciously extend an invite for me to come whenever. So, beyond thoughtful. I take up the opportunity after lunch in Drippings with Courtney, Rachel and Sarah, who got rear ended an hour before by a 16 year old named Luke Harrison Ford who was late for his summer lifeguarding job… truly. We do make-up to Staple Sisters, people have wine to kill the nerves that hangovers have generously exacerbated, and we head out. I head down to the area G had toured me the night before with her sick ass pony, to have my breath taken away by the backdrop of the ceremony and the weight of realizing... it’s here. Baby’s breath peppers the alter that will frame the ceremony of two people I love, and behind them, a crystal clear creek with cattails, sweet little frogs, and ciccaedas chirping. We have a warm breeze (is there anything better in this life?), and New York style park jazz playing for us.

Sarah and I keep looking around (why? we still don’t know). We are talking to each other but neither of us are listening. And then the moment is here. The xx plays, and lithe, beautiful Talib appears, his shoulders back and down, gliding along the white rose petals, to the archway he will officiate from. He is the perfect entity to accept and deliver the responsibility of officiating a wedding and a lifetime of love together. He professes on the subject of Love. It sounds metaphorical, it is not. You could register for one of his courses. For this - it couldn’t be more meaningful. Sunja surfaces in a suit that makes me want a suit - mauve crush velvet. His skin is glowing. Next is Mona and Austin, followed by Bella and Jared, Sunja’s siblings, and the Plahey girls. When Ajinder and Parmeet surface, I have goosebumps. For most of this 95 degree event, I will be showing anyone who will give me the time of fucking day, that I have goosebumps. Women are so beautiful and powerful, and knowing the heart of the bride is in both these girls hands and safe forever. I think of the secrets and stories and laughter they have shared in this lifetime. These are the girls. They sit down in front of Sarah and I, with their thick, tousled hair, in their blush chiffons, fanning themselves in the heat and air that is rich with love.

After what felt like eternity, escorted on each side by her loving parents, Genevieve emerges.

I do not plan on crying at this wedding but will end up crying violently at this wedding. It is not me, watching Genevieve walk down the aisle and imagining myself – something that triggers crying so often for people. No. This is me, seeing Genevieve, the bride who is so beautiful and has wanted this since she was itty bitty and embodied what it means to be a good partner whole heartedly. She is walking down that aisle and passing the threshold, no matter her fears and hurts and worries that day or that lifetime has served up to her, knowing she can handle it and that her marriage will continue to conquer these hurdles that she is challenged with, and she will chose to show up anyways. Knowing how important this day was and her friendships were there, did it for me. It was at this wedding that I got it.

The vows are beautiful – and I refuse to say which was better even though I know Genevieve is reading this hoping I will reveal it. I will not. It was Sunja’s.

In all seriousness, the vows were exactly what we hoped for and what we needed. Each were laced with words that spoke as much to the person reciting them a as the person they were meant for.  And when the you both faced us and acknowledged the crowd, something I had never seen before, it felt so, so meaningful. I was absolutely honored to be there.

And when it was time, Talib, whose cadence and low voice guided us so eloquently and calmly through the ceremony, announced you both life partners. I was deeply moved. 

There are moments in a wedding that you feel that what you are watching is some kind of a movie, show, or form of entertainment. The bride is with you but mentally on to the next table, conversation, or portion of the evening, playing out everything in her head, the angles for the camera, making sure nothing about the evening is out of place or captured incorrectly. There is a high alert. It feels like you are observing a celebrity amongst common folks. There are outfits, customs and traditions that are reserved for weddings that don’t make much sense outside of them (or in them for that matter), but this wedding had none of that. There was a moment, where myself, on the other side of the room, waiving at G, and honestly dumbfounded when I saw her wave back at me. How was she even noticing me right now? So beautiful and glowing and in the spotlight. But GENEVIEVE ALWAYS NOTICES. And I know it would have been so easy to embody the alternative, I appreciate Genevieve so much during this wedding for stepping outside of the standard bride role and being who we came to support all along – her.

We have a bit of well-timed southern summer rain, some wine, some more excellent music choices. Grimes??? I’m shaken. And the dances. In a very moving moment, Sunja’s mother joins him standing, and supported by him, for a single song. I can only imagine what this meant to each of them. I look at Amber, a table over, who is crying into the sky. You cannot prepare for how these moments will take you away. 

We have incredible food and BBQ from the famed Salt Lick. This also leads me to my next tangent - almost everything that has been served up to me, from the locations of these bachelorette and wedding events, to the food and experiences at them, WAS STUFF I WOULD HAVE GONE LOOKING FOR ON MY OWN. It felt like you guys were truly looking out for our best interests and offering experiences you we would enjoy doing. It was such a gift. 

The speeches delivered from Adela, Parmeet and Ajinder were windows into G’s former adolescent and collegiate life. Each breathed to life with the personality of the story teller, including Parmeet’s impressive 6-page narrative, which allegedly when confirmed by the wedding coordinator, Genevieve approved with negative hesitation.

As one may expect, once the dance floor opened up we about blew the roof off the place. Most of us were busting at the seams waiting for gen pop to get the okay to infiltrate. I danced with Joe, I danced with Jake, I danced with Talib and almost died from cardiac arrest in the process of keeping up. Sometimes it was all too much for my little heart to handle that I had to face on the goddamn window to settle myself the hell down. Everyone at that event held their own. Everyone at that event realizes their power as individuals is as important as their power as a group. No place is as telling as this as a dance floor. It was the most beautiful way to share the evening with people. 

On that note, I want to thank both you and Sunja for this window into your life and love beyond what I already knew. Outside of the wedding itself, which I would lift directly and replicate for myself if I could, you are living out a truth in love that is honoring you as individuals as much as it is as you as partners. I want that. It was clear as day to me that my current path was not this, and I guess Ajinder felt it too, because we both went home and broke up with the people we were seeing. When it’s real, it’s real.

At the end of the weekend it was very clear to me what was important in this life - it is the relationships those who you surround yourself with on this journey. You are truly blessed if you get to laugh with them, which we both know, YOU ARE. You have not only incredible friends, Genevieve, but the most incredible best-friend to call your husband. I am honored to have witnessed this evening, considering it a pivoting moment in my own realization for the life I want to lead, and look forward to seeing the rest of your story unfold.

May we dance on many more floors together.

Love you both,

T

6.22.19

**((update here G came over last night and now she wears very cool, very hip tortoise shell glasses) 

[miissmr]

The Road Trip │Chapter 6

Riley is twenty-one years old, who does whatever she is supposed do. She stays in her safe zone never wondering out, until something happens that makes her rethink her life. Riley decides to do something for herself and hit the road for a solo trip. While trying to figure out her life and find inspiration to start writing, she meets a green eyed stranger. Is it possible to feel an instant connection with someone, and know they are the one for you? Riley and the stranger seem to think so, but will something come in the way of stopping them from being together?

chapter 1 │chapter 2 │chapter 3│chapter 4  │chapter 5

I’m sorry it took forever to get this chapter out, but it’s finally here. I already started the next chapter, and I want to have it out by Sunday. 

As soon as I leave Lucas’ family ranch, I have to distract myself from going back. I really had no idea it would be this hard to leave behind a person I had just met. Whenever traffic is at a full-on stop, I find myself checking my phone to see if I have any text messages from Lucas in hopes that he got my number.

What was I thinking? I should have just given it to him. What was I trying to do? Play hard to get, I kissed him before I left for goodness sake.

After driving for hours later, I find myself in San Antonio. The way Uncle Shawn described the Riverwalk on his blog, along with the pictures he had taken, it was beautiful; I knew I had to visit.

I made a few wrong turns, but I manage to find the hotel I made reservations at. I park the car and check the time; it was almost three. It took longer than I hoped to get here. I grab my things from the back and make my way inside to the front desk, and I talk to a friendly gentleman to check in.

Right as I open the door to my room, my phone starts ringing. I move inside, letting the door close behind me. I drop my bags on the floor and shuffle through my purse. When I finally find my phone, I see ‘mom’ across the screen.

Hey mom. I say as soon as I hit accept.

Hey Riley. How’s everything going? Where are you, now? My mom asks.

I just check into a hotel in San Antonio.

Mhm. So, how come you didn’t tell me that you were staying with a young man and his family? Your father was panicking has been the whole time.

A chuckle escapes thinking about how melodramatic my dad can be. I clear my throat. Honestly, I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say about the matter. I gulp as soon as the words escape, but I continue. I know how you feel about Devin, and it was enough having Maya there rolling her eyes every time Lucas and I had a conversation.

I understand, and I’m sorry…I want you to feel like you can share everything with me the way you do with your father. There is a slight pause. He told me about what happened with Maya.

I walk over to the bed and plop myself down letting out a sigh. Yeah. I, uh, did she make it home okay? I’m not quite sure if I’m ready to talk to her, but I want to know if her flight landed safely. And I assume she already talked to you. I try to make my voice as stoic as I can.

Actually, I haven’t heard anything from her. I can try calling her if you’d like.

No, I’ll call Uncle Shawn and ask him.

Are you okay? I know that must have been a deep betrayal. Her voice is filled with concern.  

I wasn’t, but I’m okay now. Because of Lucas, but I don’t say that out loud. My heart flutters thinking of him. I want to tell my mom everything that I’m feeling. I always wanted to have that mother daughter relationship, but the strain in our relationship is still there.  

Are you sure?

Yeah. I say with a little bit of uncertainty in my voice. I cough once clearing my throat. I’ll be okay, and if I need to talk, I pause for a few seconds, and I can hear my mom’s breathing on the other end, I’ll call you.

Really? I can hear the bliss in her tone causing a small smile to form on my lips.

Yes. I assure her. You’re my mom, but you have to promise me something.

What is that? She asks with eagerness in her voice.

You have to actually listen to me to what I’m saying not just hear it, and you can’t assume that you know what’s best for me. I want to share everything with you, but I can’t do that if you are going to try to control everything I do. I inhale deeply and hold it for a second before exhaling. I don’t want to continue to push you away. Sniffles from the other end make its way through the phone, and my heart slowly sinks; I didn’t mean to make her cry. I just wanted to tell her how I felt. I want to work on our relationship. Mom, I’m-

Don’t. She stops me before I can apologize. I know I can be controlling. I just…I just only ever wanted what was best for you, and I thought I knew that. I can hear the sob in her throat that she’s trying to hold in. There is a second of silence before she speaks up. I’m sorry you had to run away for me to figure that out.

I didn’t leave because of you. I left because it’s something I needed to…but. I stop myself, not really sure of what I wanted to say.

But what? My mom asks, and I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. I part my lips to speak, but she cuts me off. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.

I…I don’t know, and maybe that’s the problem. I hear my mom sigh deeply, and I know she wants to say something. What are you thinking?

Me? Nothing. She responds too quickly, and I scoff. I don’t say anything and let the silence captivate the both of us.

I clear my throat. Mom, what is it? I know you’re thinking something.

Have…have you ever thought that you went searching for the wrong thing? You’ve always known who you are. Yeah, you’ve staggered off your path in the past, but you stayed true to you; finding yourself was never the problem. I take in everything she just said. You’re Riley. You have a heart made of gold who sees the good is everyone. You’re a fighter when you want to be. I think you get that from me. My mom jokes, and we both chuckle; and tears start to form in my eyes. You’ve always known what you wanted to do with your life, no matter how much I tried to convince you otherwise…Riley, you’ve always been you no matter who was by your side, whether it was Maya or a boy. Maybe instead of trying to find yourself, you needed to find something that’s been missing.

I absorb every single word my mom just spoke, and my mind instantly goes to Lucas; I have no idea why. I blink a few times pulling myself out of a daze, releasing a heavy sigh. And maybe this trip of yours have brought you out of your comfort zone, but that doesn’t change who you are. You’re having an adventure that is going to make for great stories, but you are still you. ‘Topanga,’ I hear someone say in the background. Give me a minute…Riley, I hate to do this, but I have to go.

It’s okay.

I love you, Riley.

I love you, too…Mom, thank you for the insight.

I hear her sigh in content. Thank you for letting me be there. I can hear the happiness in her voice, and it causes my lips to curl up into a smile.

After getting off the phone with my mom, I stare off at the wall; pondering on everything my mom just said. Mostly about me finding something that I’ve been missing, and why my mind automatically went to Lucas; just the thought of him fills my stomach with warmth.

I stand up from the bed and grab my bags. I didn’t realize one was open, and when I grabbed it by just one strap some of my things starts to fall out. I bend over to pick everything up, and I notice a piece of paper; my name written in the front. At first I think it’s the letter Maya wrote me, but I take a second look; I don’t recognize the handwriting. I unfold it after I toss everything onto the bed.

Riley,

You are one extraordinary person. I’ve known you for only a few days, but I find myself wanting to know everything there is to know about you. You’re leaving soon, but that doesn’t mean our story has to end.

Lucas

I read his name, and the pitter patter of my heart quickens. Underneath his name is his number. I ruffle around the bed until I find my phone buried under my bags. I punch in his number, and then a text.

Me I don’t want our story to end either.

I hit send, and I stare at my phone waiting for a response. I can fill my heart start racing in my chest, and it doesn’t take long for a text to come in.  

Lucas :) I was wondering when or if you were going to find the note, but I’m happy you did.

Me I was regretting not giving you my number. I wasn’t sure if my sister was going to give you my number.

Lucas HAHA she would have made me work it, but it would have been worth it. So, where are you at now?

Me In San Antonio.

I grab my laptop after sending the text. I walk over to the desk that’s in the corner of the room and open my laptop. I look up tours of the river, that Uncle Shawn said I had to do. When I find the website, I grab my phone, skipping Lucas’ test, and press in the number. I talk to a friendly woman who arranges for me to be on a boat at seven tonight.

I let out a long sigh. Instead of checking the text from Lucas, I call Shawn. I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t worried about Maya. The phone rings and rings, but I don’t get an answer. I wait a minute before trying again and still no answer. I wait for the beep to leave a message.

Hey Uncle Shawn. I was just calling to see if Maya landed safely. So, if you can please let me know. Bye.

I hang up and swipe over to Lucas’ text.

Lucas Is it too much if I say I wish you were here instead of there? :)

The corner of my lips lift, and a small giggle escapes.

Me Not at all. I’m sorry I had to leave.

Lucas It’s okay. I understand, you went in search of something and you have to find it.

I reread the words over and over, and I can’t help but think that I might have; but it sounds insane. Stuff like that only happens in movies, right?

I set my phone down on the desk and move over to the bed. I start shuffling through my things looking for something to change into. I go into the bathroom and splash water on my face to freshen up. As I pat my face dried, I catch a glimpse of my face. I see the light that eludes in my eyes, and I haven’t seen them this bright in a really long time. It almost makes the person looking back at me unrecognizable.

I run my fingers through my hair, and sometimes I still forget that I chopped my hair off. It something I don’t regret. I slide on my pair of blue jeans, toss on a black t-shirt with an olive green jacket on top and slip on my favorite pair of two inch booties. When I finally look at the time, it’s only five. I grab my purse from the bed, and as I make my way to the door my phone dings from the desk. I side step to grab, and I see a text from Uncle Shawn across my screen.

Uncle Shawn Sorry I missed your call kiddo. I’ve been swamp with work, but Maya’s okay. I’ll talk to you later I have to get back to work.

After I read it, I tuck my phone in my pocket and walk out the room.

When I get to the Riverwalk, I first find where I’d be loading the boat for the tour. I didn’t want to struggle finding it later, so I stay close by. I have a couple hours before my tour of the river, so I find a restaurant nearby. I get seated at a table outside near the water. Usually I take in my surroundings, but I’ve been glued to my phone since I started texting with Lucas.

We haven’t been apart for a whole day, but I miss him. If I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t think I’d miss him this much.

A waiter come and takes my order, and as soon as he walks away my phone dings. I grab it thinking it’s Lucas, but I don’t recognize the number.

Unknown Riley?

Me Yes?

Unknown It’s me, Hayley.

Me Hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t say bye, and I’m sorry Lucas and I got home late and we didn’t talk anymore.

Unknown Hayley It’s okay. I was a little disappointed. It’s okay if I text or call you when I need advice about boys or whatever. It’s just I liked talking to you.

I chuckle to myself.

Me Of course, it’s okay. That’s why I gave you my number.

Hayley Yaaay!

She proceeds to gush over Brandon, but I don’t mind it at all. I’m just happy to be someone she feels comfortable enough to share all of this with. She goes on to tell me about clubs she wants to join around school, but being shy makes it hard. I tell her if she shows people the Hayley she showed me she has nothing to worry about.

Texts from Lucas and Hayley come while I eat, and I respond between bites. They continue even as I work around, and before I know it’s time for me to make my way to the boat.

When I take my seat on the boat, I don’t notice groups of people filling in the seats around me; I’ve been too distracted with my phone. I didn’t realize we were moving until I looked up and saw that I was surrounded by a new setting.

Music feels the air from the bands playing in front of the same restaurant I ate at earlier. People around, whether they are eating or not are clapping and smiling; enjoying the sweet sound.

I try to listen to the tour guide give talk about each landscape; the five bells that represent the five bishops, the tree that grows out of a wall, the building that appears as an optical allusion, and more, but I only catch little things he sees.

Before Lucas I’d be enjoying this, but right now, all I can think about is how I wish he was sitting in the empty seat next to me.

Trees start to cascading over the river and lights are hungover the bridge in the distance. It’s breathtaking. I open the camera app on my phone and snap a quick picture. I instinctively send it to Lucas.

Me I wish you were here.

I type out the message once and delete it. I try to find something else to right, but that’s the only thing I want to tell him right now. So, when I type it out, instead of deleting it. I press send. It doesn’t take long for my phone to glow with a new text.

Lucas Me too. It’s beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as you.

I hint of red sneaks it’s way to my cheeks, and I sit there smiling foolishly at my phone.

After another ten minutes, the tour comes to an end. I look down at my phone and it’s barely going to be eight. I think about walking around for a little longer, but instead I choose to head back to the hotel and take a nice shower.

I finish towel drying my hair after I changed into a pair of pajamas I have. I let out a long sigh as I throw myself on my bed. It feels nice to finally lay down a relax. Even though my body feels exhausted, my mind is racing with thoughts. I need to talk to someone. I blindly reach for my phone from underneath my pillow. I start to push in Maya’s number, but quickly erase it and start to push in Farkle’s.

Hello? He says through a laugh.

Farkle? Did I call at a wrong time?

What? No. Sorry, what happened?

I sigh. It’s nothing. It can wait.

Riley, if you are calling at ten at night it can’t wait. What happened?

I groan. I left Lucas’ house this morning, and all day I’ve been talking to him…It’s not bad, it was great…amazing even. But, all day I’ve been missing him. It sounds crazy I know, but earlier when I was talking to my mom she told me that maybe I was looking for something I was missing. I instantly thought of Lucas. I take a deep breath. It sounds crazy doesn’t it. Me having these strong feelings about someone I literally just met, but I can’t shake them. I smack my hand to my forehead. I’m crazy, aren’t I?

I listen to Farkle sigh deeply. One, Riley you aren’t crazy, not even one bit. I don’t know him, but I did talk to Isadora about him to make sure he was a good guy. He laughs. She did the same with you to me. Apparently, what you are feeling, he is feeling the same. He asked you to stay with him?

Yeah…wait how do you know?

He called Isadora and told her. You should have heard him on the phone he was rambling on about you. So, it’s safe to say you two are both smitten with each other.

But Farkle it feels more than that. I can’t explain it, but-

As soon as you seen him, you felt a spark.

Exactly! I exclaim.

He chuckles slightly. I know exactly how you feel because I felt that the first time I saw Isadora. It’s not in your head; it’s real.

What do I do Farkle? I need my genius best friend to tell me what to do.

Riley, He inhales and exhales. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’ll tell you this; if I had the option of going back in time, I wouldn’t have spent all the time I did away from Isadora. When I was away from her, I spent every minute missing her, waiting for the next time I would be able to see her. Sometimes when you meet someone, you just know.

Are you sure this is Farkle? He laughs. You’re such a romantic. I never realized.

If you want to know what I would do? I’d turn around and go back. You left to explore, find something missing, find inspiration. It sounds like you might have found it. Just because you won’t be visiting new place doesn’t mean you won’t be having an adventure. You’ll just be having a different one than you planned.

Silence consumes my room as I’m trying to absorb everything Farkle just said. Maybe Farkle is right; he does know almost everything. I hear giggling coming from my phone, and I know it isn’t Farkle. Do…do you have company? I didn’t mean to pull you away.

Huh? No. Well, it’s…it’s Isadora. After she called me, I realized how much I had missed her. So, I might have convinced her to come visit me. ‘It didn’t take much convincing,’ I hear someone shout in the background, and laughter follows.

Now, it makes sense. You said ‘you should have heard him on the phone’. Was she already there?

Yeah. After talking all day, we wanted to see each other. So, she caught a plane late last night. Maybe the universe does know what it’s doing after all. Farkle jokes, but I hear a slight sincerity in his tone.

Well, I’ll let you spend all the time you can with Isadora. Tell her I said hi. And Farkle…thank you.

Anytime. I hang up the phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling. Everything Farkle said right now, and everything my mom said this morning are circling around in my mind. I grab my journal jot something down really quick before turning off the lights and forcing myself to bed.

When I wake up, I sit up rubbing my eyes and looking at the clock mounted on the wall; it’s already noon. I slept for more that twelve hours, I guess I was really exhausted. I throw my legs so they are hanging off the bed and reach for phone that is lying on the dresser charger.

I scroll through the text messages from Lucas, my parents, Auggie, and Hayley, and the few missed calls from my dad. Today, I decided to leave my phone alone and think about what I’m going to do for the rest of this trip.

Once again, I search through my bags and put clothes off to the side before walking over to the bathroom.

I turn on the shower, and give it time to warm up while I brush my teeth. The whole time thinking about what the next step I’m going to do. I didn’t think I’d be this conflicted on a trip. I was supposed to go on an adventurous road trip, maybe meet some friendly people. Not come on a road trip and possibly fall in love. Wait did I just say love? I pull myself back to reality when I notice the bathroom start to steam up from the shower.  

After my shower, I apply a bit of makeup and get dressed. I grab all my things. I give in and grab my phone, but only incase I get lost.

This is the first time I don’t have any plan for the day. I have used Shawn’s blog as places to see, but I decided I need to see something for my own. I drive for about twenty minutes before I find myself at a dance studio. I have no idea what I’m doing here or how I found it, but I park the car.

When I’m inside, a friendly teenager at the front counter immediately greets me. “Hi! What can I do for you?” I walk over, and I notice she has purple streaks hidden in her dark brown hair.

“Hi. I don’t really know. I’m visiting San Antonio, and I somehow found myself in here.”

She smiles. “Well, have you ever been to a dance studio?”

I shake my head, but then remember Zay’s and his sister’s dance studio. “I have a friend who own’s a dance studio in Beaumont, Texas.”

“Alyssa and Zay’s Dance Studio?” She inquires and I nod my head. “They are really good friends of my mom. Anyways, are you looking to take a class?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure, maybe.”

I watch her click through the computer a few times before returning her attention to me. “We have a hip-hop class that starts in about ten minutes, if you’re interested.”

I scrunch up my noise, but stop once I realize what I was doing. “I, I’m not…nevermind. That sounds great.”

She gives me a friendly grin. “Great. It’s in room two.” She tells me the total for a single dance session, and I pay. I look down at what I’m wearing, thank goodness, I decided to go with a pair of leggings today with a v-neck and plain sweater.

I take a deep breath before making my way to the room.

When I get inside, I see a few women my age and one guy. They are all sitting in a circle stretching, laughing, and talking. I try to close the door slowly, but it slips out of my hands and slams shut.

They all turn to me, and I feel uncomfortable under all their gazes. I clear my throat before holding my hand up and waving.

A tall redhead pushes herself off the floor and smiles at me. “Are you new?”

“Ye-“ I clear my throat, “yeah.”

“I’m Amanda,” she holds out her hand, and I take it in mine.

“I’m Riley,” my voice cracks slightly.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” I laugh nervously. “I’ve only ever been to one other dance class, and I didn’t dance until the class ended and the room was empty.” A buzzer goes off, and the guy slides across the floor to shut it off.

She smiles. “Well, I don’t want you to feel pressured. You join whenever you are ready.” I nod. I watch her take the front of room and everyone else slowly starts to stand up. I slowly start to back up, but stop once my back hits the wall. “Okay. So, I’ve been putting together a little something for you guys.” She takes a step to the side to the radio. She plugs in her iPod and scrolls through a song before stepping back.

The music start, and I watch her do one move after another. It doesn’t take long for one person after another starts to join and copy each move; some adding their own personal touch to each move. I stand in the back and shift my weight from one foot to other. Each time I think about jumping in, I step back. I tell myself the next time, but when it comes I change my mind.

This goes on for the entire class, and each time I can see Amanda give me a soft smile. It’s a little comforting, but it doesn’t make my nerves go away. By the time, I think I muster the courage to join, Amanda is moving towards the radio to turn the music off. “Okay, that’s enough for today. I’ll see you guys Thursday, same time.” Everyone grabs their belongings and start to move out of the room. I start to follow, but Amanda stops me. “Riley,” I turn to face her, “the room isn’t going to be used for the next twenty minutes or so. You can hang around here…you know if you want.” She smiles at me before walking out and the door closing behind her.

I wait a second before shuffling across the room to the radio. The music starts playing. I stand there for a minute, trying to get a feel of the music. Just like last time, I move to the center of the room. I count off the beat before I start.

My head slowly starts to roll up, and I throw my hair back. I jump apart waving my hands across my body in front of me. I starts to shake my hips as I take a step back, so my back in facing the door. I roll my stomach as I run my fingers through my hair.

I try to search my brain for the next step, but I’m going blank. I listen to the beat of the song. I slowly start to take a few steps towards the back before spinning around and running to the front; sliding across the floor and launching myself up. I toss my hair back as I shake my body, moving my hands across my chest; the way I did in the first class.

The music stops and once again I hear clapping. When will I learn? I turn around, trying to catch my breath, and see Amanda there smiling at me. “You are amazing! I love that move you threw in at the end. It fit perfectly.”

I smile, “Thank you.”

She moves back to the radio and restarts the song. “C’mon we’ll do it together.” Amanda moves next to me, and we start counting down the beat.

When I finally get to the room, it’s late and I’m exhausted. I intentionally spent the whole day at the dance studio with Amanda. By the end of the evening, she was convinced that I was meant to dance. But, I wasn’t too sure; although I do have a lot of fun, and I enjoy losing myself in a dance.

I knew if I laid down, I wouldn’t want to take a shower. So, I go to the bathroom to start the shower, and while it warmed up I checked my phone; that I’ve successful avoided all day.

I have text after text, along with a few missed calls.

Dad Thank you for opening up to your mom. She needed that, and I think you needed that. It’ll be nice if you called. Are you going MIA again? Okay, forget about your dear old dad.

I laugh a little reading the last message.

Me Sorry, I was out all day. There is no way I would be able to forget you. You’d make it impossible. I’ll call tomorrow. I just got in, and I’m tired. I love you.

I move on to Auggie’s text

Auggie It’s quiet around here without your drop ins. When are you coming home? I miss you. Riley? Are you going to ignore me? Are you still with that stranger? If you aren’t, than you aren’t as smart as I thought you were.

Me What do you mean I’m not as smart as you thought I was?

I hit send and move on to my mom’s text and quickly respond while waiting for Auggie to text back.  

Auggie I miss you too Auggie would have been nice.

Me Of course, I miss you. But can you tell me what you mean? Please.

I send it, and I think how weird it is to be asking my brother for any type of input that is about a guy.

Auggie You are a hopeless romantic, and here is someone who longingly looks at you but you leave. I think you were supposed to meet him. If you left, I think you should go back.

I’m a little taken back from his text.

Me Auggie, you might be too smart for your own good. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise. I love you.

Lastly, I check Lucas’ texts.

Lucas I hope you have a new adventure today, and thank you being so friendly to Hayley. She has taken a real liking to you. You’re a real special girl. I’m lucky to have met you.

I blush as I read the text, and butterflies fly awake in my stomach. I move my fingers across the screen typing in a text.

Me It’s my pleasure. She’s a lovely girl. I’m lucky to have met her…and you.

I hit send and jump into the shower; taking a quick one and heading to bed.

The next day, I pack up everything and check out of the hotel. I’ve been in the car for hours. I had plans to travel to Dallas, instead I find myself back in Beaumont. I guess I’m listening to Farkle after all. I try my best to remember landmarks I seen with the turns I made, but everything is a fog. I pull off to the side of the road and scroll through my contacts and stop when I see Hayley. It rings a few times before her blissful voice is piercing through the phone.

Hey Riley! I can hear the smile in her voice. I didn’t expect a call from you.

I chuckle. Is Lucas with you?

No, he went out to do something for Pappy Joe. Why do you need to talk to him?

Actually, I kind of wanted to surprise him. I cringe at my words. I barely know Lucas, and what I’m doing feels like what a girlfriend would do for their boyfriend. I…I’m sort of back in Beaumont.

Really?! Her excitement is evident. She laughs. Maybe now Lucas will stop moping around. You’ve only been gone what two days, and he’s acting like he’s never going to see you again. But, I told him there was no way you two were going to stay apart; not with the way you two looked at each other.

I can feel heat rush to my cheeks, and I’m happy no one is around to see. I laugh nervously. I’m a little lost. I’d ask Lucas, but that kind of defeats the purpose of surprising him. Is…is it a good idea? I can turn around. She laughs at my ridiculous thought before assuring me that he’s going to love it, and then giving me their address. Thank you. I guess I’ll be seeing you in a bit.

Bye Riley.

Bye.

I input their address on my phone and pull back onto the road. I can instantly fill my heart race as my phone says it’s only a five minute drive from where I’m at.

The closer I get, the more nervous I’m becoming. The butterflies awake in my stomach as soon as his house comes into view, and my heart is pounding so fast I can hear it in my ears. He has no idea I’m here, and even though Hayley said he’ll be happy to see me I can’t help but think that I’m overstepping my bounds.

When I finally pull up front, I see the front door fly open and Hayley is running out. I barely have enough time to put the car in park and turn it off before she reaches my car. “You’re really here!” she smiles as I get out of the car, and she gives me hug. I look pass her to see her mom walking down the steps waving at me.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” Elizabeth says as soon as she reaches Hayley and I. “Lucas is going to be happy to see you,” she pulls me into a hug. “Speaking of.” I turn around to see a truck slowly driving towards us, and there goes the pitter patter in my heart. A smile takes over my face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Hayley and Elizabeth.

As he circles passed us, his eyes meet mine for a second and his eyes light up. He turns his attention back forward, but I can see the upturn in his cheeks. “He’s already smiling. See, mom,” Hayley nudges Elizabeth, “I told you Riley makes him smiley.”

Lucas steps out of the car, and instead of making his make to the back to unload the hay stacks, he walks over towards us; a smile radiating off his lips.

“Why don’t we leave these two alone,” Elizabeth whispers to Hayley.

Hayley huffs. “Are you going to leave this time without say bye?” I pull my gaze away from Lucas and look at Hayley.

I smile softly. “I promise I won’t.” She nods, and they both turn on their heels towards the house.

I look back to Lucas, and he’s only a few feet away. I never thought I’d meet someone on this road trip that I felt this strong of a connection with, but I did; and I don’t want to let it go.

“Hey,” he shyly says.

I giggle. “Hi.

“Hi,” he repeats smiling. I tuck a piece of hair that fell in front of my face behind my eye. “I…I wasn’t expecting to see you. N-not that I’m…I’m complaining,” he trips over his words. It was clear that we were both nervous. The last time we were so close to one another we shared an intense passionate kiss.

I clear my throat. “The plan was to be in Dallas, but honestly, I’d much rather be here.” A hint of red runs up his cheeks. “Do…do you need help?” I gesture to the truck.

He shakes his head as he swats his hand behind him. “I can do that later…So,” he coughs once rubbing the back of his neck, “how long are you staying?”

“I’m not really sure. I have to be back in New York in a week in a half.”

I can see excitement claim his eyes. “You can stay here until then…I mean if you want,” he quickly adds. “Hayley’s been talking nonstop about you and been upset since you left, so she’d be happy.”

I laugh escapes. “Really? I heard it’s you that’s been moping around.” The same hue of red returns to his cheek. “But, I’ll be happy to stay.” I look down at my hands. “I think this might be more fun being here than on the road,” I say quietly.

When I finally look up, his emerald green eyes are staring into my brown orbs. “Well, I’ll show you back to your room.” He smiles.

We both walk to my car, and he helps me with my things; and just like the first time, our hands brush against each other and a swarm of butterflies flutter around in my stomach.

[letsstartuhhriot]

This is an open letter to my now ex girlfriend

Many times, I tried to find the words to describe how I appreciated you. No words or clichés could do it justice, and after meeting you, I never thought I’d even be in the position to try to explain how much you meant to me. Past tense. But this letter is dedicated to you, even though you'll never see it, because at one point you held my heart and all the love that came with it. And you forever will hold that piece. I remember the first day you talked to me, we were at band camp. I initiated the conversation. I fell in love with you the second my eyes met yours. And I knew you were special. You texted me the next day and talked to me some more, and the following days as well, until texting you was a part of my everyday and if we went the majority of the day without talking, it was weird and incomplete. Empty. Finally I asked you to be my girlfriend and I was a nervous wreck that you'd say no. The butterflies had been made extinct because they were now all in my stomach. But our relationship came and it wasn’t at all awkward, just instead full of laughing and getting to know each other and almost three years later, I have so much to thank you for. Even though we ended on a bad note. To our memories: These almost 3 years were packed with memories that I’ll always keep locked in my mind. Whether it’s a song, a place, or recalling them as I lay in bed, they never fail to make me smile and remind me why I was so lucky to be yours. I use to use them to make myself happy, on days where I missed you incredibly and wished for the past back, or days where I was having an awful day. It helped me through. So thank you for so much fun and great things to think about. You treated me like a princess: I never thought I would be the kind of girl to get weak at the knees whenever I was called princess, but the way you whispered it in my ear, as you told me you loved me, made me feel so special, and the actions you did (that I took advantage of) to prove to me those words were true would've made any Disney princess jealous. And its not big or major actions either, it was the little stuff like telling me to drive safe when I would be coming home from work, or buying me mac and cheese when I craved it, playing with my hair without having me ask, or letting me pick what we watched even if you hated it. You were my crying shoulder: It cams across as seemless, the way you did so much for me without blinking an eye, but you’re one of my heroes and I wish I had told you that more. You were the first to offer open arms when I needed them, a shoulder to cry on when I was upset, the one that gave me advice and help. I have even noticed that if I was not at my best, you too were not the happiest you could be, because you’ve made it so that my wellbeing impacted you and it showed how much you cared about me. Your chest where I once laid was my safe place and you made it your job to protect me no matter if I truly needed it or not. You helped me through so much and I knew I could always count on you. Through good days and bad, you’d be there every time. Letting me be myself: I had never felt more comfortable around a person than the way I felt around you. I could act goofy, silly, or even ratchet and you would've still claimed your love for all of me. I was never afraid to act the way I wanted to or to say the things I wanted. I had nothing to hide or be ashamed of, and that’s not something I have found in the other relationship. Whether they be the relationship I have with my friends, a relationship with a girl, or even family. I was me in my entirety all because of you. Being my biggest fan: The things I experienced wouldn’t have meant half as much if I didn’t have you to share them with at the time. If it was simply good news, an award, or any accomplishments at all, you over celebrated them and made them important. One of my favorite memories was telling you I got on the presidents list at oaks.. Knowing you were there and having you cheer for me every day was something I think I always took for granted, but it is really one of the best feelings I have ever experienced. Making me feel beautiful: This one I tend to have issues with on my own, yet you made it your job to change my views. Whether it was when I was all dressed up, makeup fully done, or just in leggings and a sweater, you’d drop your jaw when you see me, which got you an eye roll if I knew I looked like poop, but your reactions had those butterflies come back each time. Or I’d wake up next to you, my hair all crazy and eye crusties taking over, and you’d still give me a kiss and tell me I looked oh so beautiful. I questioned your sanity then but I loved how it made me feel. Putting me before yourself: I can’t remember a time when you didn't made sure you’re taking care of me, or let me choose what we watched or where we went to eat. If I was upset and took it out on you, you'd let it go, knowing it was what I needed in the moment and you’d stay and calm me down even though you didn't need to take it. If I had told you I wanted to get certain things done during the day, you’d check back in at night to make sure I had done them, making it one of your priorities in your busy schedule. You always made sure I was happy, healthy, and safe before going about your day and I appreciated it so much. I'm sorry if I never told you. Our dates: I loved all of our dates, from the one’s where we just sat cuddled in your bed watching movies, or the ones where we treated ourselves to a night out, getting dressed up and eating an expensive meal. Or going to dances..our nights were always filled with us being wicked silly and making one another laugh and smile all through the night. My time spent with you was so precious and it never mattered to me what we did as long as we were together. You made me a better person: You forced me to challenge myself, individually and in our relationship. I have the tendency to quit or give up easily and you pushed me to keep going, no matter how small and unimportant or big and meaningful it was. You encouraged me to always do well and to try to make the best choice, because you had seen my potential since the first day we met. For trusting me: One of the biggest reasons that made me fall so hard for you back then, so fast, was you trusting me and telling me such innate details of your life. Even if you had every reason not to trust me. I admit I was wrong in our relationship many times, but you telling me you still loved me made me feel special and like you really wanted to get close and connect on a deep level. We skipped over the small talk when we began and instead focused on what really mattered and it clearly showed your trust in me and made me trust you. Thank you. Being my best friend: I wouldn’t be where I am or who I am without you having been by my side for the short window in time. You were my girlfriend sure, but really were my best friend and I will always love a part of you and everything you did for me. You were a huge part of me, not just my life. My heart still skips a beat when I’m reminded of you. I wouldn’t replace the memories we made for anything in the world. Making me feel loved: When it’s all said and done your affection for me every minute of every day when we were together. Through your words, actions, or when I would catch you staring at me when you thought I wasn’t paying any attention, I felt special, appreciated, trusted, desired, and so loved. And I loved you back, more than there are stars in this universe. It came across as effortless, the way we were so happy together at certain times (no we weren't perfect, but looking back it felt perfect some days), filling every moment being ourselves, yet its one of the most rewarding things I had in my life. One of the things I miss the most. You were one of the most important people that entered my life, and I am absolutely blessed to have met you and to call you one of my old Best friends. I may also hate you from part of my soul, but I will always wish you all the happiness that I could never give you. -Your ex that will always love you @letsstartuhhriot