#oh i feel like a monster she looked so excited for bedtime and she just bolted….. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Monochrome

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 1 OF 2. Part 2, titled Spectra, can be read here.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

It was the color of amaranth red, Donghyuck remembers now, though he was still too young back then to know the name. It was the color of amaranth red that painted her cheeks and the tip of her nose as they were kissed by the morning breeze. It was the color of amaranth red that tinted her shoes, her knitted sweater dress, the two ribbons she wore on her hair. And it was the color of amaranth red that burst onto his cheeks, as his eyes widened in both glee, curiosity, and sheer excitement. He was four years old and she was five, but the way she spoke so courteously as she introduced herself upon their first meeting was something little Donghyuck could only imagine doing.

But it didn’t matter, Donghyuck was too distracted anyway. If he was older maybe he would’ve been left dumbfounded at the sight of her breathtaking smile, or the perfect curves of her lips, or the vibrant eyes she had hidden behind her symmetrical bangs. But he was merely a four-year-old, so he was more distracted with a jar full of chocolate cookies she carried in her arms.

“We’re the family that’s just moved in next door.” The older lady, who looked like the exact doppelgänger of the little girl, mentioned with a polite smile and a formal bow. “I hope we can become friends.”

Donghyuck’s mother cheered and took her hand in a friendly handshake before she beckoned the little girl to come closer. “Oh my, look at how adorable you are! You’re about the same age as my son. I hope you two can get along.”

Donghyuck, who had been hiding behind his mother’s legs, took a step forward. He was only interested in the jar full of cookies that she carried in her arms, licking his lips once as his eyes bore into it. But when the little girl offered the jar, grinning widely from ear-to-ear, and chirped, “Brought you some cookies! I helped my mother with these so I bet they’ll taste great!”, Donghyuck decided that he liked her more.

It was the color of azure, the crayon she held between her fingers back then, as she tried to imitate the look of his clothes on a stick figure. She was quite a painter, four-year-old Donghyuck thought, because there was no way for him to know how to draw mountains and the sun lurking behind them with that little head of his.

“Okay, so this is you,” she told him, smiling to herself as she finished perfecting her sketches of him. “And this is me. And this is our pet dog, Jelly Bean.”

“But we don’t have a dog.”

“We can have one in the future.”

“We can?”

“Of course. When we grow up, we can have whatever we want.”

Donghyuck believed her. He believed everything she said because she believed everything he said, even about the monsters living under his bed that his parents completely ignored. During their sleepovers, which occurred nearly three times a week in his room, she would always stand by as a guard, saying, “I’ll keep watch. If it appears, I will destroy it with my sword. Nothing can hurt you when I’m around.” And he would feel content, knowing she was there to protect him, even when in the end she fell asleep way before he did with her toy sword hanging loosely around her fingers.

Donghyuck would sleep next to her, curling up like a baby that he was, seeking her warmth. Their little feet would dangle out of his teepee tent and he would breathe in the scent of his grapefruit shampoo from her hair. And secretly, under his breath, as he tangled his pinky finger around hers, Donghyuck would say, “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Why do you always draw the sun?” Donghyuck questioned one day with his round, chocolate brown eyes scanning the giant yellow circle that she drew repeatedly with her crayon.

“Because I love the sun,” she answered, searching for another yellow crayon so she could paint it even more. “It’s bright and it’s warm, and I can play outside when it’s out. Don’t you feel happier when it’s sunny outside?”

Donghyuck thought about it, he really did with the very little experience that he had. “Probably. I can play soccer when it’s sunny.”

“See? The sun is amazing. Nothing can beat the sun. Do you know that the sun is the biggest star in our solar system?”

If he was smarter, he would've told her that of course, it's the biggest star, you idiot, it's the only star in our solar system. But little Donghyuck, who could barely remember what came after the letter S, innocently asked, “What’s a solar system?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I forgot that you’re only four.”

“Hey, you’re only five!”

“But I know what a solar system is and you don’t.”

Donghyuck pouted. If only he was older, perhaps he could reciprocate with a better argument. But then again, she was quite smart—the smartest girl he had ever met. Well, in his whole four years of living anyway.

“You’re kinda like the sun, actually,” she suggested, gathering his attention back to her. “You have a bright smile and whenever you smile, you make me want to smile too. You’re like the sun because you always make me happy. Oh!” She suddenly jabbed one finger into the air, making him jump on his little feet. “I know! You should be called Haechan, as in Full Sun! And I’ll be calling you Haechannie because we’re friends.”

And Donghyuck smiled the way he always smiled, which made her point a finger to his face, shouting, “Yes, that’s it! That’s the smile! That’s my Haechannie!” And he liked the sound of it. He liked the way she called him Haechannie but not as much as he liked being called hers.

Because he’s always been hers, from the beginning of time till the end. It’s always been her who owns his heart, who paints a spectrum of colors to his monochromatic life, and who breaks his soul to pieces and tones everything down into black and white.

It’s always been her. No one else owns him but her.

***

It was apple green, the color of the duster his mother was wearing when she had her eyes glued to the TV screen, watching another episode of her most awaited romance series. It was way past their bedtime so Donghyuck performed his best ninja skill which was tiptoeing his way out of his room with his bunny socks enveloping his feet and his deer plush toy accompanying him in his arms.

He was five and she was six, but she had learned how to forgive when he could barely remember to send an apology after making a mistake.

“You stay here and be on guard, okay, Haechannie?” She whispered before she tiptoed her way to the kitchen, leaving him alone in the hallway.

He grabbed the sleeve of her rosy pink pajamas. “But what if my mom finds out?”

“She won’t find out. She’s busy watching TV.”

“What if she walks into the kitchen?”

“Then that’s the time you should give me a signal, Haechannieeeee. Will you ever listen to me?”

“I don’t wanna stay alone. Mom can be scary sometimes.”

“Ugh, fine, take my hand. We’ll get in together. You can help me hold my chair when I reach up to steal those cookies.”

“Can we just go back to bed? I don’t need any cookies.”

“No, no. When you have nightmares, you have to eat cookies.”

“But will you still sleep beside me?”

A delicate hand ruffled his raven hair until it got all tousled and adorable. “Of course, Haechannie.”

The moonlight did not shine as bright as the girl’s cherished smile. But it was okay, he thought, she could replace the moon with her lips. She could replenish the stars with her eyes. They did not sparkle nearly as beautiful as they were anyway.

On their way back to their room, Donghyuck heard two sentences being exchanged by the lovers inside the screen so he stopped and listened, carving every word into his memories. When he arrived back in his room, he ran toward her, circled his short little arms around her waist, and muttered the exact same words.

“There’s no life without you, Noona.”

And she didn’t question him anything, wasn’t surprised of him, wasn’t disgusted with it. She simply smiled back, turning around to embrace him properly, and whispered.

“There’s no life without you too, Haechannie.”

***

It was the color of cherry blossom pink, the petals of flowers that flown into his room, coming from the window that he just slid open. He stood up on his little wooden chair, waving his hands back and forth like a drowning man desperate for attention, as he shouted, “Noona! Wake up! They’re blooming!”

He was six and she was seven, but she had memorized how to count one to ten in three different languages when he could barely count all the planets in the solar system.

When she opened her window, her eyes were all squinted trying their best to adjust themselves to the brightness of the sun—or Donghyuck’s smile, considering it shone just as bright. “I’m still sleepy!”

“But you promised we’d go for a walk!”

“Ugh, fine! I’ll meet you outside my house in an hour. Don’t forget to wear your jacket, Haechannie, because I’m not lending mine again!”

He nodded, smiling all the way. But by an hour later, he had forgotten yet again to carry his coat with him because he was too busy remembering the look on her face whenever she called his name, and too excited to have her hold his hands during their little trip outside.

And it was fine, really, because she already brought two jackets with her, knowing him like the back of her hand.

***

It was the color of crimson, the droplets of blood that stained his shirt. He could barely breathe through his broken nose, and the pain stung so much that his eyes began to water. But knowing that she was there, sitting beside him on the side of the pavements with worried eyes observing his expression, he had no other choice but to rub his tears away before she could catch the sight of them falling to his cheeks.

He was twelve and she was thirteen, but she already had her own preferences of clothing, knowing exactly what kind of dress could accentuate her beauty, while he, on the other hand, was still pretty much wearing the exact same type of clothes like what his mother bought him two years ago.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes examined his face as she dabbed an ice-cold napkin to his bruised jaw. Donghyuck swatted her hand away, stealing the piece of cloth from her fingers so he could do it himself.

“I’m fine. I’m not a baby,” he muttered and he knew how harsh the tone he was using but he did not apologize for it. She most likely had forgiven him anyway.

“What happened exactly?” She was still tentatively reaching out to him, tidying the tousled strands of his brown hair. “Why did you get into a fight?”

“Who said I was in a fight?” He was. He absolutely was. It was against a boy with the stupidest haircut he’d ever seen on a male, in his classroom after he caught him stealing her sketchbook. Donghyuck saw him raking his pen back and forth on her drawings, grinning mischievously to himself as he did it. He didn’t stop to ask for an explanation. The second he saw her beautiful drawings get tainted by something that wasn’t made from her hands, he began to launch his fist, directly to the boy’s poor face. Donghyuck had always been more temperamental, so he fought more with his rage than his strength, which usually ended up with him getting a fair share of beating as well.

“Here.” He handed her sketchbook back and saw her widening her eyes in surprise. “That’s right, stupid. You forgot your stupid book. I was on my way back to the class to get it when I tripped down the stairs.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I even took this out of my bag.” She blinked, checking her book and stopping after she flipped a few pages. Donghyuck froze on his seat. He’d already predicted that she would find out sooner or later that one of her pages—the one that was ruined by that asshole—was missing; he just hoped she wouldn’t notice right away. But maybe she also noticed the anxious look on his face when she went through the pages, which was why she decided to close the book, and do nothing but smile that stupidly blazing smile of hers.

“What?” He asked, already feeling quite flustered even when she hadn’t said anything yet.

“I’m just happy,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for, uhh, for getting this back for me.”

And he looked up to the sky, not caring if the sunlight was burning every inch of his skin and blinding his eyes, as long as she didn’t notice the rosy blush that painted his cheeks.

***

It was the color of lemon meringue, the chunk of tart that Donghyuck shoved into his mouth. They were celebrating his fourteenth birthday and he had a bunch of friends coming over. And yet, there he was sitting on the bench in his backyard, next to a girl dressed adorably in a yellow lace party dress, who was scowling at him.

“What?” Donghyuck muttered, yet plopping another big chunk of the tart. “Why do you look like you want to murder me? Is it that time of the month already?”

“No, jackass.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s my tart.”

“Sure, but,” he pierced the cake with his fork, taking another piece into his mouth with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “It’s my birthday cake.”

She sighed—a habit that she did a lot whenever she was with him. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be opening the presents right now? I think your friends are looking for you.”

“Nah, I’d rather talk to you.” He shrugged, pushing the empty plate back now to its owner. “Besides, you look like you’re seconds away from crying. I figured I can be a jerk to you another day and play the role of your prince charming for the rest of the evening.”

“You literally just ate every bit of my tart.”

“You’re welcome.” He sent her a flying kiss and a wink.

They both leaned backward, resting their spines against the bench, staring blankly at the cloudy sky with their fingers lying idly just a few inches from each other.

“Have you heard about that thing with our soulmates?” Donghyuck suddenly asked, his tongue still tracing every little bit of the sugary taste left inside his mouth. “About how we’ll begin to constantly dream about them after we turn eighteen, even if we’ve never met them before.”

“I thought that was just a rumor?”

“I thought so too, but then my parents told me that the exact same thing happened to them.”

“They met each other in their dreams?”

“No, it’s like—” Donghyuck scratched the back of his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s like your dreams are a mixture of your soulmate’s past and present memories. My mother said that she lived through his memories every night, until one day she met my father by coincidence during the day, and then she saw herself in the dream the following night. That was when she realized that he was her soulmate.”

“This is giving me headaches, but I kinda get the idea.”

“So whose memories do you think you’re going to see in your dream?” Donghyuck wiggled his eyebrows. “Mine?”

She snorted. “You wish your soulmate was me.”

“Actually, I do,” he stated, making her froze for a split second before she looked at him in bewilderment. “No, wait, don’t get me wrong,” he immediately corrected, raising a hand in the air. “It’s not like I’m into you or anything, ‘cause that’s, like, so gross since we’re basically like siblings by now, but if it really is true—this soulmate thingy—I wouldn’t mind if it turns out to be you because we get along really well, don’t we? Being soulmates doesn’t necessarily mean we have to marry each other—eww, God, no—” He made a show about it, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “It’s more like saying we’re connected. Know each other’s mind—like, we understand each other, you know what I mean? Don’t you feel that way about me?”

She thought about it, and with every second passing by, Donghyuck became more aware of how embarrassing his lines sounded in his ears. “You know what? Forget it. It’s dumb. I don’t know why I said—”

“Well, I guess, if you put it in a non-romantic way, then yeah, sure.” She smiled, a bit awkward and shy but sincere like always. “We can be soulmates. But I will only marry you if we’re the only two people left in the world. And even then, I would still think about it.”

He rolled his eyes but inwardly thanking her for not making this even more awkward than it already was. “Right, but for our friendship’s sake, let’s never talk about this again.”

“Agreed.”

They stood by in silence, hearing a bunch of children laughing in the background as they danced to the blaring music. “So on that note,” he said again, slicing through the awkward tension. “What are you so upset about today?”

She huffed, playing with her fingers. “I don’t know, I feel like everybody’s looking at me weird. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this dress—I know it’s too much—everyone is wearing shirts and jeans and I’m here looking like—”

“—a pretty girl,” he finished, staring nonchalantly at the clouds as he said it. “I don’t know what these guys think, but you’re prettier than any girl in the room today. You’re prettier than me, even, and that’s saying something.”

She bit her lower lip, holding back a laugh. “You just turned fourteen today and suddenly you’re old enough to flirt.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

He looked to his side, a lopsided smile on his face. “Feel better now?”

“A little.”

“Good. Now go fetch me another plate of that thing I just ate ‘cause I’m still hungry.”

***

It was the color of ruby, the lipstick she wore on her lips for the very first time, which made Donghyuck knit his eyebrows together, both in confusion and bewilderment.

He was fifteen and she was sixteen, but she already read a bunch of novels about first kisses and sappy love stories when he barely even owned a novel.

“Are you wearing make-up?” he uttered with a frown, scrunching his nose. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, his black Michael Jackson shirt falling a bit loose around his shoulders with the bottom edge of his light-blue jeans folded.

“Yes, and before you judge me for it,” she began, but Donghyuck was already sticking his tongue out at her, making the most disgusted look on his face. “You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“You look like a clown, honestly.”

“Well, this clown is going on a date.” She looked proud, which made him furrow his eyebrows even deeper. “And if she’s lucky, she’s going to get her first kiss by the end of the evening, while you, on the other hand, are just going to sit there in your room watching The Kissing Booth for God knows how many times and pretend like you’re handsome enough to date the female protagonist.”

“I am handsome enough to date the female protagonist. Handsome enough to date the male protagonist even.”

“Yeah, in your dreams. You’re just a virgin with a stupid bowl cut in reality.”

“Whatever. You still look like a clown.”

“Whatever. Now turn around, I need to change my clothes.”

“To your clown costume?”

“Turn around!”

Donghyuck had little options in his hand, when she brought her high heels in the air, ready to hurl them to his face, so he exhaled loudly in annoyance and lied down on her bed, turning his body around so he was facing the wall.

“Who’s this idiot you’re going with?” He eventually asked, because the rustling sounds of her clothes hitting the floor were getting too distracting.

“Na Jaemin. You know, that extremely cute boy from P.E Class.”

He knew who exactly Jaemin was. Heard his name being spoken several times as he walked down his school’s corridor. Girls were obsessed with him, and they would scream as if the world was ending whenever he played a game on the basketball court. They might be thinking why is someone as perfect as Jaemin interested in someone like her? And he hated the fact that he was thinking the same thing, just the other way around.

Why is someone as perfect as her interested in someone like him?

But on the outside, he toned it down to a simple grimace. “What the hell is a Na Jaemin?”

She threw her heel at him, hitting his spine and making him groan. “Hey, that hurts, you bi—” But his words died on his tongue when he saw her standing in front of her mirror in nothing but her matching underwear, with her dress threatening to fall from her arms.

“Hey!” She shrieked, squatting down to the floor and trying her best to gather as much clothing to her body to stop herself from being so exposed to his eyes. “I didn’t say you could turn around!”

And Donghyuck would’ve played it cool, he really would have, if he wasn’t too aware of the heat rising to his cheeks. “I, uhh—” He turned around again, clearing his throat. “Well, it’s your fault for throwing your shoe at me! I turned around in reflex.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying! From now on, you wait outside!”

“Fine!” He scrambled to his feet, making sure that he didn’t spare any glance at her—no matter how badly he wanted to—as he made his way out. “You have small boobs anyway.”

She screamed his name in both shame and anger but he was walking out with a cheeky grin on his face. He waited outside her room with his hands buried deep in the pocket of his jeans, yawning as he pressed the back of his head against the wall. A moment later, she opened the door with her face down, trying to tuck her bra strap under the collar of her dress. When he called her name, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Damn it, Haechannie, I thought you’ve left!”

“I wanted to see your clown costume.”

“Why you little—” But this time, it was her turn to be lost at words because Donghyuck was staring at her in the way he never stared at her before. His eyes were gleaming as they took in her features—her lace cocktail dress that matched the color of her lipstick, her red ankle strap heels, her natural make-up that gave prominence to her eyes, and the way all of her clothing just fell perfect on her skin, embracing her every curve.

“W-what is it?” She asked, carding her fingers nervously through her hair—her soft, beautiful hair that always made him a little bit weak whenever she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Do I look weird?”

He forced himself to close his gaping mouth and act nonchalant again. After nine years of training, he was beginning to master his act. “Well,” Donghyuck said, shrugging, “It’s not exactly like the clown costume I remembered it to be, but it’s okay, I guess. So now tell me where is this Halloween party you’re attending because I’m going too.”

“I can no longer tell whether you’re joking or not, honestly.” She waved him off, tightening the straps of her heels. “Look, it’s my first date with a really cute boy who I really like. Can’t you at least wish me luck?”

Donghyuck didn’t answer right away. His heart was still conflicted about the whole thing and his head was still swirling over the thoughts of how pretty she looked. “I can’t believe you’re blowing me off for something as lame as Na Jaemin.”

“Someone as lame as—wait, he’s not lame!”

“But does he know you the way I do, though? Like, does he know how loud your snores are? I know that, and I accept that.”

“Haechannie, we literally spend every weekend together for the last nine years. I’m just taking one night off.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re still blowing me off.”

“Look, if it wasn’t a date, I would’ve asked you to come but since this is a date,” she stopped to smile, tapping her fingers against his cheek, “You be a good boy and wait for me at home, okay?”

As she walked out of her house, with him trailing behind her with heavy steps, Donghyuck said, “I hope his breath smells like shit when you kiss him later tonight!”

She laughed it off, raising her middle finger playfully at him, probably thinking he was upset because they didn’t spend the weekend together when he was entirely livid about something else.

He wasn’t sure how he felt towards her, but he was pretty certain that he didn’t like the fact she went out with some boy who probably wasn’t aware of her full name—or the way she would bite on her bottom lip from being too deep in concentration whenever she sketched something down, or the way she would puff out her cheeks in the most adorable way when she got teased too much. That fucking Na Jaemin wouldn’t understand her the way Donghyuck did.

So for the first time in his life, Donghyuck prayed something bad happened that night so her date would get canceled and she’d come running back into his arms, snuggling close with a popcorn bowl on their laps as they watched the same movie for the hundredth time.

Unfortunately for him, his prayer was not answered.

***

It was sapphire blue, the color of his hoodie was when he swung by to her house again, casually letting himself inside without even greeting her parents because he did it so many times within a day. It started to feel more like his house compared to hers.

“Oh,” she sneered, a smile appearing on her face. “You again.”

“What’s with the under-appreciating tone?” He clicked his tongue. “Most girls would actually scream in joy when I graced them with my presence.”

“Scream in horror, more likely.”

He ignored her banter, taking a seat on her bed again. She was lying down on her duvet, stomach pressed against the fabric with a fashion magazine under her fingers. “So,” he began, casually laying his head down on the dip of her spine, staring at the ceiling and secretly loving the feeling of knowing directly every time she took and released her breath. “Did he smell like shit when you kissed him?”

She flipped through a page. “As a matter of fact, we haven’t kissed. But that’s none of your business anyway.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help a smile creeping up his face. It was his luck that she didn’t notice. “Oh, but it is my business,” he said, trying not to sound as gleeful as he felt inside. “I really want to know whether he smells like shit or a dog's piss so I can make fun of him every time I see you.”

“Well, from the close proximity I had with him during our conversations inside the cinema, he smelled deliciously wonderful.”

“Deliciously? So he smelled like tacos?”

“Smelled way better than you, at least.”

“You’ve never kissed me so you wouldn’t know.”

“I already can tell without having to kiss you, asshole. You reek from a hundred feet away.”

“But just to be sure, wanna make-out with me for a while? I won’t bite.” Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“AUNTIEEEEEEE, SHE’S SAYING THE F WORD!”

“SHUT UP!”

***

It was Navajo white, the color of her knitted scarf was, as it hanged loosely around her neck, matching the color of her duffle coat.

“Oh,” Donghyuck flatly said as he opened the door to his room, answering her persistent knocks. “You again.”

“Haechannie.” The way she said his name sounded like she was desperate for help, and that made his heart flutter a little bit at the thought of being needed. But the words that followed soon after, crushed every bit of his happiness within an instant. “Jaemin asked me to be his girlfriend.”

He could feel how tightly his fingers were sinking into his palms but he tried to keep his voice steady. “And you’re confused because you just found out he’s a girl?”

“What should I do?” She whined, completely ignoring his sarcastic reaction. She seemed anxious, jumping a little on her feet every now and then, which was so adorable for his eyes to take but whenever he remembered the reason why she was acting that cute, he could feel his jaws tightening again.

“Do whatever you want, it’s not my business,” he muttered, walking back to his room but leaving the door open for her to follow.

“I like him, Haechannie,” she continued, and with every word that came from her mouth, a javelin seemed to strike him even harder in the chest. “I really do, but am I ready to have a relationship? Like what do I do? I know I joke a lot about having my first kiss but now that we’re about to become official, and knowing that he’s most likely going to kiss me soon, I get so nervous.”

Donghyuck didn’t say a word. He had nothing nice to say, so he kept himself in silence.

“W-what would you do if you were me?” She sputtered. “I mean, if a girl you like asked you to be her boyfriend?”

Donghyuck had his hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, so she wouldn’t be able to tell when his fingers curled into balls of fists. He had the back of his hips pressed against his desk, locating his eyes on his shoes instead of hers. “This girl I like is actually talking about being someone else’s girlfriend,” he professed, “So I’m not sure I can give you proper advice.”

“Stop messing with me, Haechannie, I’m seriously begging for your help here.”

It was goddamn annoying, he thought, how she could be so dense when it came to things like this. Well, to be fair, he did have his fair share of flirting with her from time to time whether he meant his words or not, and knowing how playful he was, it’s a given that she grew to become accustomed to his teasing personality. It was nearly impossible for him to be taken seriously nowadays.

“Why are you even asking me?” He spat out, now looking at her eyes—almost glowering. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

“I don’t know, I really need someone to talk to, I guess.” She played with her hair, biting her lower lip worriedly. “And you’re my best friend so I naturally just come to you. You always seem to have the answers to everything.”

There was a pang in his heart when she singlehandedly decided on their relationship status and he knew he shouldn’t have asked for something more but with more days passing by where it was only the two of them walking side-by-side under the first snow, or calling each other’s names the first thing in the morning through their windows, Donghyuck couldn’t help but to hope for something more.

“Well, like I said,” he repeated, voice sounding low and foreign even to his own ears. “Do whatever you want. As long as it makes you happy.”

She took a proper look at his face. “Are you angry or something?”

“No.”

“What, like, did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“I said nothing’s wrong!” His voice thundered through the thick tension that was hanging between them and he felt his own heart shaking in pain from the tone he just made. They stared at each other’s eyes in what felt like hours before Donghyuck finally covered it with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired right now. Didn’t catch any sleep last night from playing too many games.”

It took a good few seconds for her to regain back her composure. “Well, I don’t want to bother you then.” She didn’t sound angry, but she did sound hurt. Donghyuck was still in the middle of sorting out his feelings when she walked out of his room, saying, “I’m sorry for pestering you like this. Goodbye, Haechannie.”

He had never hated someone as much as he hated himself then.

It took him five hours for his mind to finally make up the decision to go into her house and apologize in person, but only a second for him to immediately do it once he’d made up his mind. He ran down the stairs so fast, he almost fell face-first on the carpeted floor. When he stood in front of her house, desperately pushing back air into his lungs, the door was locked and no one came to answer no matter how many times he rang the doorbell.

Muttering a train of expletives under his breath, he turned to his iPhone and found the first number in his emergency contacts. He was about to press dial when suddenly her name popped out on his screen, asking him to answer her call.

“Noona?” Donghyuck called, breathing in relief. “Hey, I was about to call you. I wanted to apologi—”

“Haechannie.” She sounded so happy, almost to the point of shedding tears. “Haechannie, he just kissed me.”

Donghyuck’s lips were parted in shock, his throat felt like burning, even though puffs of air still tumbled down from his mouth. His heart almost stopped beating entirely.

“What do I do, Haechannie, I’m so happy,” she said, laughing between tears. “I’m actually crying right now. I’m so lame, I know, but—God, I can’t believe I got kissed by my crush—no, wait, my boyfriend—oh God, it’s still embarrassing to say that but—”

As if turning deaf, her voice in his ears was reduced into a silent murmur before vanishing entirely. The loud beating of his heart soon replaced it as it pumped more anger and jealousy through his veins but Donghyuck wasn’t going to repeat his previous mistake. He wasn’t going to let his emotions take control again.

“Well,” he breathed out, unfamiliar with the sound of his own voice. “I’m happy for you then.”

“You are? Oh, thank God, because I thought you’d whine about me for not spending time with you anymore.”

“Do you really think that lousy of me?”

“I’m kidding, Haechannie. I love you. You know that, right?”

And it hurt, the way she said it, because it meant nothing more than a platonic love and he wanted it to mean more. Perhaps he had been waiting for those three words to mean more for the last nine years of his life.

“Of course,” he simply said, hoping she wouldn’t hear the crack in his voice. “There’s no life without you, Noona.”

It took her a while to respond, and he was worried whether the cold tone in his voice stood too vividly again, but she laughed before he could think too much.

“It’s been a while since we said that. Of course, yes, there’s no life without you, Haechannie.” She giggled again, “It’s kind of embarrassing to say that when we’re already this old. Maybe we should start looking for another catchphrase. I don’t want Jaemin to catch me saying that to you either—”

“No, don’t—” Since when did speaking to her become this hard? “It’s something that we’ve been doing since we were kids. I’m not gonna change our tradition just because of one asshole that you happen to like.”

A silence, then a chuckle. “Seems like you’re back to your old self again. I was beginning to worry. All right then, let’s keep it that way. I’ll just have to be more careful.” He could tell that she was smiling all the way when she said her sentences.

“When will you be back?” I miss you. “I want to see you.” I want to hold you. “We haven’t really talked these days.”

“Oh, umm…” She sounded so apologetically soft, so quiet, so out of his reach. “Jaemin actually just asked me to go somewhere with him, but I’ll be back soon. Is there something you need?”

He curled his fingers. “Nothing important. It can wait.”

“Great. Oh, Jaemin just called, I gotta—”

“Stop saying his name.”

When a small gasp came from the other line, Donghyuck raised his head, startled by his action. “I mean,” he cleared his throat, his stomach doing somersaults. “It’s just—” He couldn’t think of anything fast enough. “You’re right. I’m sorry for taking your time.”

“Oh, no, it’s…” A pause, which struck like a hurricane. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Sure.” But he didn’t hold her on her promise, because she now belonged to someone else.

He just had to get used to being alone.

***

It was the color of eerie black, the denim jacket that he wore above his white shirt as he prepared himself for his date. Donghyuck had cut his hair short, ran his fingers through his bangs so they no longer covered his eyes, and sprayed the new bergamot perfume he bought around his neck.

He didn’t notice it at first, but he had become more popular in school for the past few months, after being a vocalist in a band and performing during the school festival. Girls were approaching him, asking from what class he was, wanting to know whether he wanted to hang out with them from time to time and it felt weird, although he had been quite popular back then too, it was more because he was the funny kid—not the hot kid in school.

So eventually he started going on dates, and every time he managed to spend a day with a girl, he’d come home to brag about it to his neighbor, wanting to evoke a reaction but what came out of her was only a small chuckle and a shake of her head, “What are you talking about? You’re just a boy. You know nothing about girls, let alone going on a date with one.” And he would drop the topic, fuming for the rest of the day.

“There.” He straightened his jacket, gazing at his reflection in the standing mirror. “New day, new beginning, Hyuck. You can do this.”

You can forget her and move on.

So he checked on his phone, noticing a new chat just popped up under the name of the stranger he had been seeing for two weeks, and felt his heart beating as steady as usual. Everything felt the same. Even after he’d kissed her for the first time, intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked from one cafe to another, or hearing her laugh over his words even when he didn’t try to be funny—everything felt the same. So… plain. Unexciting. And after two weeks had passed by, meeting this stranger—the girl with the auburn colored hair, crooked teeth, and waist thinner than most—began to feel like a chore.

No, you said you’d do this. You said you’d move on from her.

“Ah, Haechannie!” The way his childhood friend immediately smiled upon his presence, waving a hand back and forth as if they were long lost companions instead of neighbors, almost made him stop in his tracks. “You’re going somewhere? You look so nice!”

His resolution faltered as simple as that. Only by the sound of her voice calling his name, only by her contagious grin creeping to his face, only by simple praise that made his stomach flip most delightfully.

“What do you mean, I look nice? I always look nice.” Donghyuck was proud of himself to be able to conceal his feelings most of the time, and not actually acting like a blushing seventeen-year-old boy with the hugest crush on his childhood friend that he was.

She took her time analyzing him and for the first time in his life, he began to fidget on his feet, swallowing his breath.

“Stop staring at me, you’re making me feel weird.”

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re this big,” she said, her eyes sparkling in amazement. “Like, I know we’re neighbors but we’ve been busy dealing with our own things these days so I haven’t really taken a closer look at you but man, look how much you’ve grown. You’re way taller than me now.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t too busy playing tonsil hockey with that fucking Na Jaemin all the time, you would’ve noticed.”

“Indeed.” She looked amused, even proud somehow. “But I got to make-out and stuff. What have you done so far, cherry boy?”

He clenched his jaw, jealousy coursing through his veins. He tried to shove the picture of Jaemin running his hands all over her body—her perfect body—to the back of his head and he thought he did a remarkable job at it. But when he smiled, his eyes didn’t follow through.

“None of your business,” he simply said, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and walked away. “I’m going on a date. See you later.”

“You’re going on a date?!” She shrieked, eyes wide. “With who?”

“A pretty girl.”

She took a hold of his hand, stopping him from walking further. “Is this the girl you’ve been seeing for the last two weeks?”

He didn’t realize she kept count. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Nothing, I was just…” She awkwardly shrugged, her fingers hanging loosely around his arm. “Just curious, that’s all. So, like… Do you like her? What’s her name?”

It was almost possessive the way she asked the questions which on one hand, made him feel happy, hoping that she was jealous about it, but on the other hand, also pissed the hell out of him because if she was indeed jealous—if she ever felt the same way as him, even if only slightly—why did she go to Jaemin’s arms instead of his?

“Her name,” he glanced at her with lifeless eyes, “is Miss None-of-Your-Fucking-Business.”

Her smiled dropped instantly. “What is your problem? I just wanted to know—”

He knew he had the worst temper and patience in the world when it came to her, and he was not always like that before. Ever since the feelings he harbored for her grew bigger and bigger with each day passing by no matter how hard he tried to make himself fall in love with somebody else, he grew even more anxious, even less patient, and he hated the way he’d become.

But he couldn’t help it.

“Want to know what?” He asked, now facing her, circling his long fingers around her wrist and raising it in the air. “What do you want to know, exactly? It’s not just her name, is it? You want to know the things I do with her too? Want to know how I feel for her?”

Her eyes began to shake, frantically trying to understand him. “What—why are you so upset?”

“I’m not, I—” He sighed with a groan coming from the back of his throat, letting her go before he massaged his temple. I’m just so stressed out knowing how clueless you are of both your own feelings and mine. “Look, I gotta go. I’m running late.”

When he walked away, taking just about three steps ahead, she shouted. “Haechannie!”

He turned his head around, just enough to see her smiling softly at him. “This weekend,” she said, “Spend time with me this weekend. Please.”

“Noona, I—”

“I miss you.”

Just like that, she had him wrapped around her fingers again. It’s not fair. You’re not fair. You can’t keep doing this to me. But he smiled back, his gaze growing gentle, almost longing. “Then I’ll see you this weekend.”

He was in a fight he knew he’d lose every time.

***

It was coral pink, the color of the girl’s lip cream but he felt it pressed against his lips before he could see it properly. He felt his collar being tugged as his body was pushed further into her room, hasty hands pushing the jacket off his shoulders.

“You smell so good,” she said, giggling as she brought his bottom lip between her teeth. “And you look so fucking hot in this outfit.” Donghyuck hit the back of his knees against her bed and tumbled down onto her sheets, with his self-proclaimed girlfriend following shortly after.

“Wait—” he said, his eyebrows joining together in the middle from feeling both confused and uncomfortable. “What about your parents—”

“They’re not home,” she said in a rush, climbing onto his lap. “And I want you.” She tangled her lean fingers around his locks, pulling his head back to expose more of his neck. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, Hyuck,” she gasped, her mouth latching on his skin, tasting his bergamot perfume with her tongue. “And we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

A little more than two weeks had passed since they first went on a date, and he really thought he could like her but whenever he closed his eyes during the kiss, his mind would start acting on its own, morphing her face to someone more familiar. Someone who could pull on his heartstrings and play with them only by the sight of her smile.

It felt wrong. All of this felt wrong. But he said he’d move on, he promised himself he would, and this was one of the ways to do it.

“You seem distracted,” she moaned softly against his ear, pressing her hips against him. “Am I boring you?”

He didn’t say a word and instead forced himself to kiss her better. He held her by the nape, angling her head to the side, and she sighed against his mouth, hooking her fingers around his silver necklace to pull him even closer.

Donghyuck was lost deep in his thoughts, and his heart just wasn’t there, but he didn’t push her away. She spread her legs and tangled them around his waist, pressing herself down until she could feel the zipper of his jeans grazing against her underwear. Donghyuck hissed under his breath, not agreeing with how his body reacted on its own and she grinned against his lips, guiding the hands he reactively laid around her waist to move further down her body.

“Touch me here,” she begged, taking his right hand and slipped it under her shirt, pushing her breast against his palm. Donghyuck let out a heavy breath as he let her tongue slipped past his lips and he closed his eyes again because that was the only way that this could all feel right to him.

Noona…

But no matter how good her touches felt on his skin, guilt was the only sensation he could feel in his heart. The more they kissed, the more he realized that she was not her, and she could never be her. He couldn’t smell the scent of strawberries from her hair. He couldn’t hear the cute giggle she made when his jokes got to her head. And no matter how they seemed physically similar—the look of her hair, the shape of her eyes, the way she dressed—he still couldn’t lie to himself and pretend she was her.

“Wait—” He pushed her gently off his lap by landing both hands on her shoulders. “Let’s stop.”

“Why?” She was upset, he could tell. “What is it?”

You’re not her. “I feel like we’re going too fast.” I don’t want you, I want her. “And what if your parents come home?” I feel sick. I need to get out of here. I need to see her.

“They won’t be home until midnight, I promise.” She had her fingers curled around his nape again. “Please, Hyuck, don’t you want me?”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer, swallowing his protest with her lips, tasting more of his mouth with her tongue. “Mmph—no—wait!” he pushed her away again, firmer this time to the point she almost toppled over. “Look, I’m not in the mood, okay?” His tone was getting harsher, which only led her to feel even more agitated.

“Why the fuck are you even here then?” She spat out, throwing her hands in the air.

Donghyuck shoved her away none too gently this time, stepping down from her bed. “I don’t fucking know,” he growled under his breath, putting his denim jacket back on. “I’m leaving.”

“What are you, gay?!” She was screaming as he stormed off, slamming her bedroom door on his way out.

***

It was the color of sunset that illuminated her face, as she sat on her porch with her knees pressed together to her chest and her spine glued to the wall. Her eyes were blank, almost lifeless as she stared into space, her previous conversation with her beloved childhood friend replaying non-stop in her head.

Does he really like her? Why didn’t he tell me anything about this? How far have they gone? Has he kissed her yet?

The heat was spreading to her cheeks at the thought of Donghyuck leaning in close, his eyes going half-lidded before he closed them entirely, his lips—his beautiful, plump lips—slightly parted in anticipation before he—

She buried her hands in her palms. What is wrong with you?! He’s practically your brother!

It wasn’t like she never thought about him as something more. She just never allowed herself to think about him that way. What they had was special—Donghyuck was special. He was her only true friend, the family that always stood by her side even when her parents didn’t. The one who noticed the simplest things about her without having to be told—like handing her a brand new sketchbook whenever she was about to run out of pages, or the way he would always take a day off school whenever she was sick in bed so he could accompany her the whole day, watching re-runs of her favorite show while munching red velvet cakes the way he knew she liked.

He was the one who could see behind her lies and excuses, and the only one who would come over to her side at any hour just to fulfill her dumb requests—even though he whined the whole time. And she knew she was special to him in some ways as well, because she was the only one who he allowed to see him cry while watching Titanic which to this day, still brought a smile to her face whenever the thought came up.

It was getting pretty distracting when puberty hit him like a truck somewhere in his first year of high school. His shoulders got broader, his jawlines became more prominent, his voice got a tad deeper, and he was getting taller and taller that she had to tilt her head upward to see his face properly during conversations. He was packing more muscles too, from all the soccer activities he did after school, turning his complexion from slightly pale into the perfect color of a sun-kissed tan. While she, on the other hand, only had two pimples appearing on her cheeks and her chest growing slightly bigger.

She adored him. To her, his existence had become such an integral part of her life that whenever she didn’t see him for a day, she would sit on her porch, counting the minutes until he walked past her house, calling her, “Noona,” with that cheeky smile on his face before he told her about his day.

That was before she dated Jaemin, though. Because after that, he became quite distant. It felt weird and slightly out of character for him to give her the cold shoulder whenever she mentioned his name, but she thought perhaps it was just a boy thing. The whole conversation about her drooling over her boyfriend was probably too boring for his ears, and Donghyuck was always straightforward with the things he wasn’t fond of so she shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Maybe he just wanted to give her the time she needed, so she could spend her days with her boyfriend—like what she was supposed to do—but she couldn’t help it that whenever Jaemin called her noona because he was also a year younger than her, the thought of Donghyuck’s teasing eyes and lopsided smiles crossed her mind.

And then the thought of him, holding another girl on his bed, his lips brushing against hers—

Ah, she mentally groaned, attempting to massage her scalp but ended up yanking on the roots of her hair. Lee Donghyuck, what am I supposed to do with these thoughts of you?

“You look like you’re going insane, honestly.”

She’d recognize that voice in a heartbeat even if she had her eyes closed and when she saw him slouching over her fence with a teasing smile painted on his lips, she nearly crumbled to the ground.

“Were you waiting for me, Noona?” He questioned with his eyebrow raised in a teasing manner, causing her to blush even harder.

“Of course not, idiot, why would I?” And the sound of his small chuckle warmed her heart. “You’re coming back pretty early. I thought you were going to spend the night with her.”

“Yeah?” He dragged open the fence, walking closer to her spot. “You were thinking about me spending a night at her place? Doing what, exactly?”

“Shut up.” She threw her sandal at him which he easily dodged before he took a seat beside her. “Did something happen on your date?”

“We had sex.”

She wasn’t sure whether it was because of the way he just casually said the words as if he was talking about the weather, or simply because he said those words at all, but she found herself frozen to her toes, her heart dropping into a bottomless pit, her chest suffocating.

“O-oh…” She gulped, bringing her eyes down to her fingers. “That’s great… I guess.”

“It was great,” he said, leaning back to press his spine against the wall as well. “But her parents came home soon after so I had to bail.”

He was still talking but she could no longer hear him, as if he was drowning in the background, his voice turning into whispers.

There was a feeling she couldn’t understand that kept appearing in her chest, sending fire to her fingertips. It felt like he was crushing her heart little by little with every word he said, choking her until she couldn’t breathe. She never felt like this before. Was it sadness that she felt—knowing that her little Haechannie was not her little Haechannie anymore? Or was it loneliness, knowing that he had someone else in his life—someone who could feel his touches, and made him feel theirs, in the way she could never do?

“Noona.”

She blinked herself awake. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet for a while.”

“I was just…” She desperately sought an answer. “I’m sleepy.”

It was a terrible lie and he could tell, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he offered her his shoulder. “Come here, then.” And she obliged, lying her cold cheek against his warmth and for the first time in her life, she began to be more conscious of everything.

Of his intoxicating scent. Of his slow breathing. Of his velvety voice sounding dangerously close to her ear.

Of his presence, entirely.

“So,” he pressed the side of his head against hers, voice turning gentle and quiet. “You’re not playing tonsil hockey with your stupid boyfriend today?”

“He had something to do, like a group project or something. And it’s fine, I needed some time alone to sort out my—” feelings. “—thoughts anyway.”

Donghyuck snorted. “Thoughts? Like, plural? You with that one brain cell of yours?”

She poked him on the side of his abs, forcing him to laugh in the way he usually did in the past. “All jokes aside though, Noona.” He sighed, staring at the way their hands were lying side by side on the wooden parquet. If only he could just move slightly… “Are you happy with him?” was the question he asked, but he actually wanted to hear the answer to Are you happier with him compared to when you’re with me?

“I think I am,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her words which ironically sparks pain to his every nerve. “I mean, it’s my first time being in a relationship so I barely know anything at this point, but… He does make me feel something in a way that no one has ever made me feel before.”

“What, like, horny?”

“That too, but—” She huffed. “I don’t know, like, he makes me feel wanted. Desired. He makes me feel pretty and I feel like I’m more confident now as a person, knowing that there’s someone out there who wants me that way, you know?”

Donghyuck stared into space, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “But does he need you, though?” Does he need you like I do?

“Is there a difference?”

“Well, wanting you would be like he wants to hold hands with you, kiss you, touch you, be intimate with you or something but you can be replaceable as soon as he’s satisfied with you and starts wanting someone else.”

“I don’t think Jaemin is the kind of person who thinks like that.”

I don’t fucking care about Jaemin. “Yeah, I hope not. I don’t ever want you to have your heart broken.”

There was a silence that hung around them, and it started to make him feel flustered at his own words so he immediately added, “By anyone else but me. The only one who can mess with your head and your stupid heart is me. That’s like the reason for my existence—to make sure your life is a living hell.”

She smiled, taking his hand in hers, and squeezed him softly. “Yeah. You’ve always been my little devil after all.”

The word ‘my’ had a nice ring to his ears, enveloping his heart in a warming sensation, and Donghyuck blushed again, for an entirely different reason but as long as she didn’t notice, he would be fine.

***

It was ash grey, the color of his sweater that she borrowed to be worn as her sleeping attire during their sleepover at his house. It felt strange for two young adults in their primal stage of life to be sharing a room, but Donghyuck was more than pleased to offer her his bed while he slept on the floor, and his parents also didn’t mind, as long as they kept their bedroom door open.

“Final chance to back down, Noona, because I’m not stopping once we go all the way,” Donghyuck warned, suggestively raising his eyebrow, making her gulp nervously.

“I-I’m ready,” she said, nodding her head shakily a few times.

“You sure.”

“Just do it.”

“Well then, here we go.”

And as he clicked play, the movie started. It felt like it had been years since the last time they watched a movie together, sitting side by side on a carpeted floor, with a popcorn bowl on her lap, and a MacBook on his. They shared earphones, forcing them to sit as close as possible to avoid having them slipped out of their ears. Horror movies were her weakness so he always insisted to watch one of them to torture her—and also to see her cute reactions but Donghyuck scratched that off his mind—and somehow, she always ended up agreeing to it.

Donghyuck could watch every jumpscare in the movie without batting an eyelash, but his heart jumped every time whenever she clung on to him, her arms wrapping tightly against his, her head sinking at the crook of his neck, her frantic breath fanning his skin.

“What are you so scared about?” He asked, thanking God that he didn’t stutter. “It’s just a ghost of his dead girlfriend, haunting him for vengeance while singing a creepy tune as she does it.”

“Literally everything you just said!” She sobbed, her fingers clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt, her fingernails nearly scratching his skin.

Donghyuck knew he was blushing and he hated it, and if she kept doing that, who knew what he’d become. “Let’s just stop then.”

“But you want to see this movie, don’t you—AAAH!”

His ears began to ring. “Not with you screaming like this!”

“It’s okay, I can handle this.” She puffed out her chest, taking a deep breath. “But can I hold your hand, just in case?”

It was his turn to take a deep breath. “Sure.”

It was scary, Donghyuck thought, how his mind could pay no attention whatsoever to what was showing on the screen, and instead focusing every nerve in his body on the sight of her fingers resting on top of his, squeezing them tightly whenever she was scared out of her mind.

There was a knot in his stomach, making him feel lightheaded and he tried to push the thought of lifting her fingertips to his lips and kiss them until she could think about nothing but him away from his mind.

By the end of the movie, he knew nothing about the storyline but she was bawling her eyes out. “I can’t believe I’m crying over a ghost’s background story, this is so stupid,” she said, sobbing fervently until her entire shoulders began to shake.

Donghyuck lifted one knee to his chest, laying his arms on top of it before he rested his cheek on them, He gazed at her with a pair of longing eyes, gleaming in adoration. “You’re so cute,” he sighed in a breathy voice.

Still rubbing the tears out of her eyes, she asked, “What?”

“The way you get so worked up over stupid things like this is just—cute. You’re so cute.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop saying those kinds of things to me. You already have a girlfriend. It’s not right to do this to her, even if you’re just joking around.”

Maybe it was because she seemed a bit hurt, her voice sounding strained and plaintive, or maybe it was just her line entirely but whatever it was, it made his skin crawl and he could no longer control what came out of his mouth.

“What if I didn’t have a girlfriend then?” He questioned, eyes deadly serious. “What if I wasn’t just flirting with you? What would you do if I told you I meant everything I said, every praise, every feeling I had for you?”

Her hands froze mid-air as she tried to wipe the rest of her tears away from her eyes. “What are you—”

“What would you do if I told you I loved you?” He leaned closer, brushing his fingertips against her tear-stained cheek. “Would you believe me if I say I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you?”

Silence struck like a hurricane, and there was a storm swirling in her chest. “I…” Her throats felt dry. “I, uhh…”

She looked so conflicted that it began to hurt him even when she didn’t intend to, because Donghyuck wanted her to immediately say, “I would’ve said the same thing,” straight to his face without having to trip on her words. Without her voice sounding so brittle. Without her face looking like she was about to break someone’s heart.

So he simply got up to his feet, forcing a train of laughter to erupt from his mouth. “I’m just messing with you, idiot. Stop looking at me like you got your panties in a twist, I was just kidding.”

And he expected her to be angry. Angry enough that she would shout while throwing things at his face, but instead, she broke down in tears again but smiling so widely in relief.

“I’m so glad,” she said, nearly choking on her tears. “I’m so glad you were just joking.”

He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the pain that fleeted on his eyes, so he turned around, sinking his nails deep into his palm so he could focus on that pain instead of the one in his heart before he gathered his quilt with both arms. “Let’s just go to bed, it’s late.”

“You’re sleeping on the floor again?”

“What do you think?”

“But…” She nibbled on her lower lip. “It’s, umm, I don’t mind if we sleep together—I mean, on the bed, like, side-by-side, not—” She caught herself, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s big enough for both of us anyway, and also…” She grew quiet, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m still so scared right now so if you could just, you know, sleep right next to me, that would calm me down a lot, I think…”

Donghyuck had his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, glaring at his ceiling, asking his Lord, why must you test me like this?

“You do know that your boyfriend would kill me if he knows I’m doing this with you, right?”

She winced, smiling sheepishly. “Can’t you just keep it a secret?”

He sighed, making sure that he had the expression that said I’m-so-done-with-all-your-bratty-requests when deep down inside, he was shaking in both excitement and fear of not being able to hold himself back.

“I’m a man too, you know,” Donghyuck grumbled, slipping himself underneath the comforter. He didn’t take off his shirt this time, unlike the other nights when he slept alone. “I could attack you in your sleep.”

“Isn’t that the very reason why we’re keeping the door open?” She giggled, though the tremble from her previous breakdown was still there. “This is actually rather exciting. It’s been years since we slept side-by-side like this. It reminds me of our good old days.”

“Yeah?” He jeered. “Remember what else we do in our good old days? We take baths together.”

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Donghyuck slept on his side, facing the other side of the wall while she laid on the bed with her spine pressed against the sheets and her eyes glued to his ceilings. Though she was the one who said those words, it took her forever to fall asleep. “Haechannie?”

“What?”

“You’re still awake?”

“No, this is his voicemail speaking.”

“If you’re too tired to talk, could you sing me a song or something? It’s too quiet and I can’t help remembering that creepy tune she sang every time she showed up.”

“My God, what are you, a kid?”

“You forced me to watch that, so take responsibility for it!”

“Ugh, fine,” he groaned, turning to his back with his eyes locked on his ceilings and then started to hum. She listened to it wholeheartedly, a smile popping up on her face but it didn’t stay long before she realized something.

“Are you singing the theme to Mario Bros?”

“If you even begin to complain, I’m going to kick you off the bed.”

“Right, okay, continue then.”

She listened again, prepared for the same tune, but he changed it at the last second. “I can’t believe you changed it to Spongebob’s now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, just go to sleep!”

“Okay, geez!” Her smile became permanent on her face. “You just said the F word. Mommy’s gonna be pissed at you tomorrow.”

It ended up with them throwing playful punches and kicks under the duvet and Donghyuck laughed a lot, missing and loving every second of it because this was how they used to be—playing around like kids, messing with each other’s hair and faces. At one point, he began to hover over her, trapping her body between his arms, his knee placed on the small space between her thighs. The pendant of his silver necklace was grazing along her collar bone, making her shiver slightly from the cold.

She was sweating, her bangs sticking to her temple, and she was as breathless as he was, panting for air. It felt like time began to slow for Donghyuck the second his eyes were locked on hers, his surroundings vanishing into a blur. He was so close, too close, that he could feel her breath on his lips, could almost taste the scent of her shampoo on his tongue, and if he could just lean in…

The sound of his name tumbling down her lips in a soft, almost inaudible manner was what stopped him from pressing his lips against hers, and he was thankful because otherwise, he could’ve done it, and then everything would be ruined.

He couldn’t afford that to happen.

“Your breath stinks,” he said instead and pecked her quickly on her forehead. He immediately scrambled to his other side of the bed, shouting, “Go to sleep, you idiot,” as he gave his best effort to pretend he was sleeping.

You were so close, Donghyuck thought, you almost ruined everything. Pull yourself together.

And if I can’t have her, just let me have this moment for the rest of my life.

***

It was the color of ivory, her trench coat was as she wrapped it harshly around her body, all the while fuming in anger. Her phone was buzzing non-stop, alerting her to the new messages that arrived almost at the same time and she knew exactly who they were from.

I still can’t believe you’re choosing him over me to celebrate your birthday. - Haechannie, 09.10

We do this every year, Noona, we PROMISED to always celebrate our birthdays together. - Haechannie, 09.10

And now that you have Na fucking Jaemin giving you sloppy blowjobs as your birthday gift, you suddenly just forget about me?! How fucking ridiculous is that?! - Haechannie, 09.11

Does he even know it’s your birthday today? Did he congratulate you on it like I did? Showing up at your door at midnight, carrying the world’s most gigantic alpaca doll in my arms when it was fucking freezing outside?! Because I sure as hell didn’t see his stupid donkey face! - Haechannie, 09.12

Also, not trying to be an ass about this, but do you even know how hard it is to find a one-meter tall Alpaca doll?! Why can’t you just like teddy bears like everyone else for fuck’s sake. - Haechannie, 09.13

“Oh my God,” she groaned loudly to the air, almost stomping her feet in fury as she texted back, “I’m not ditching you, you selfish idiot! I’ll be back before dinner and then we can spend the rest of the day together so for once in your life, stop sounding like a fucking asshole!” She paused, thinking more words to add before she jabbed her thumbs to her phone screen again. “Also, I didn’t ask you to get me anything so you can take that stupid ugly doll back if you’re going to be a bitch about it because I don’t need it!”

And she pressed send. But before she could catch her breath, another response came by.

Great. Do me a favor, will ya? Don’t show up at dinner. I’m not your fucking backup plan. - Haechannie, 09.15

She was so close to smashing her phone against the wall, but the text coming from her boyfriend, telling her that he was waiting for her downstairs, made her heaved the heaviest sigh she’d ever made, shoved her phone into her purse, and stepped down the stairs with angry clicks of her heels.

The entire birthday date was a disaster for her because Jaemin was discussing something important but she couldn’t decipher a word he said. The look on Donghyuck’s face when she said she had promised Jaemin she’d go on a date with him on her birthday—how shocked and disappointed he was, not to mention furious—was the only thing that she could focus on. She kept replaying it over and over again in her head, until Jaemin took her hand and called, “Noona? Did you hear what I just said?”

And she was so terribly upset that she began to lose control of her mouth. “Don’t call me that. I have someone back home who calls me that a lot and it’s getting annoying.”

“O…kay,” Jaemin awkwardly said, pulling his hand away from hers. “I was just trying to be respectful.”

She threw her head back, sighing loudly in exasperation. “You’re right, sorry. I didn’t mean to take this out on you.” She took a deep breath, waited until she calmed down a little bit before she continued again. “I just had this fight with someone and it keeps bugging me.”

“Let me guess. Is it Lee Donghyuck again?”

She raised her head in surprise, looking at him. “What do you mean again?”

“He’s all you’ve been thinking about, for as long as I remember.”

“Yeah, because he’s like a little brother to me who annoys the hell out of me.” She rubbed her temple, feeling her energy drained. “Well, he’s not actually my brother, but he acts like one—he gets on my nerves, teases me a lot, calls me stupid all the time—”

“Why do I get the feeling that he’s more than just a little brother to you?”

She frowned. “What do you mean? You’re not listening to me—”

“Look, you know what?” Jaemin ran a hand through his hair. “I think it’s best to end this.”

“What?” She nearly dislocated her jaw. “What are you even saying—are you breaking up with me?”

“Well, you’re going to graduate soon and you told me once that you’d probably leave town for college, and with all this Donghyuck thing going on…” Jaemin sighed. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

***

It was the color of dark grey, the heavy clouds that hovered above the earth with thunders flashing between them. She stood in front of Donghyuck’s door, fingertips shivering slightly from the cold as she rang his doorbell. The boy came to answer shortly after, his usual gaze quickly turning into a menacing glare at the sight of her. He was about to rave over their previous fight when he noticed how she was all drenched from the rain with tears streaming down her face. She glanced up at him, murmuring his name between sobs, and Donghyuck hastily gathered her in his arms, not caring one bit how the rain seeped almost instantly to the grey Nirvana shirt he was wearing.

“Are you okay?” He attentively asked, cupping her cheek with his lean fingers. He lifted her face, examining every detail of her features, making sure she wasn’t hurt in the slightest. “Did something happen?” His voice suddenly turned gravelly. “Did he do this to you?”

She sniffled, burying her face in his chest. “Jaemin broke up with me.”

“On your fucking birthday?!”

She nodded.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Donghyuck said, almost growling as he embraced her tighter. “I’m gonna keep you company today and make sure you’re okay first, and then I’m going to kill him.”

There was no need for apologies to be exchanged, because Donghyuck already had his arms around her, drying her hair with a towel and lending her his sweater that he knew she loved. His parents weren’t home at the time, so they sat on the kitchen counters, legs dangling a few inches above the porcelain floor with a cup of hot coffee in their hands.

“This is the worst birthday in the history of mankind,” she said, slurping her coffee. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Well, there was actually this girl who got murdered on her birthday—”

“Just humor me, will you?” He chuckled and patted her hair. “But to be fair, I don’t think he’s aware it’s my birthday today. He hasn’t said anything, didn’t give me anything. I also never told him, and he…Well, he never asked.”

“And yet, you still went out with him.” He sighed, now tucking a loose strand of her hair to the back of her ear. “I know you’re an idiot, but I didn’t think you were this much of an idiot.”

She grew smaller. “Please be mean to me another day. I’m currently wounded.”

“Right, okay, come here.” He cradled her in his arms, placing his chin on top of her head. “You smell like a wet dog, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She was about to lean more to his touch when his phone began to ring.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” She questioned when he did nothing about it and when he kept quiet, she broke apart from his embrace, jumped down, and grabbed his phone from the table.

“Unknown number,” she mumbled when his ringtone stopped playing. “Wait, there’s a text.”

“Don’t read it.”

“It said aren’t you coming over.” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Is this your girlfriend?”

He yawned. “A different one.”

“What, that fast? Were you supposed to meet her? Oh my God, I’m so sorry for taking your time, why aren’t you—”

“Rather than saying that,” he took a sip of his coffee, “We should begin our revenge plan on that stupid ex of yours. I mean, I could just straight-up punch him in the face, but you already know his weakness. It’s time to strike, baby.”

She blinked, her puffy eyes soon began to gleam mischievously. “I’ve already planned it all out. Do you wanna hear it in alphabetical order?”

***

It was the color of burgundy, the quilt that covered her body when she suddenly woke up from her dream with a jolt, surprising the man who slept on the floor next to the foot of her bed.

“What happened?” Donghyuck asked, rubbing his eyes away from sleep. “Nightmare?”

Her eyes were wide when she looked back at him, gulping hard before she said, “I just had the dream.”

“What dream?”

“The dream, Hyuck.”

“Wet dream? I thought that was only for boys—”

“No, you’re not listening to me. The dream.” She threw her blanket away, scrambling back to her feet, and kneeled in front of him, taking his hand in hers. “I just met my soulmate.”

Donghyuck almost shuddered. “What?”

“It’s true, Haechannie, it wasn’t just a rumor,” she said, looking at her trembling fingers. “They said the dreams would start sometime after we turned eighteen and I saw it. I saw him. And it felt so weird. It wasn’t like a dream, it was—” Realization befell her eyes. “A memory. You were right, it was a memory—his memory.”

“Okay, wait a sec.” He held up a finger in the air. “What exactly did you see? And talk like a normal person this time.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, deep in her thoughts. “So, you know how when you’re dreaming, you can’t tell if it’s a dream? Like you’re suddenly somewhere, doing something that you can’t remember the beginning of it but it felt normal so you kept doing that, until suddenly you wake up and you start noticing how weird it really was.” Donghyuck nodded, albeit still a little unsure. “Well, this isn’t anything like that. You’re completely aware that it’s a dream—at least, I was. I remember telling myself it was a dream but now I realized it was a memory.”

“My God, you’re taking too long,” he complained. “What exactly did you see? For fuck’s sake, just tell me!”

“I was in a classroom at some school that I’ve never seen before and there was this guy who looked just about my age, sitting on the last row—just right by the window. He had the softest hair, a pair of big, beautiful doe eyes, cute thin lips, broad shoulders—”

“Hold up.” He grimaced. “You’re not talking about me, are you?”

“One of these days, Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep, I swear to God, I will.”

“Right, apparently not then. Please, continue.”

She took another two seconds to throw ice daggers at him with her eyes before she finally started again. “He was scribbling something down on his book. And I tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t hear me. I could hear him, though, and everything else that was going on in the classroom. I could hear him hum a song before he nodded his head, looking like he just figured something out, and then he was writing things down again. I tried to reach out to him, but I couldn’t physically touch him too. I was just a bystander that saw everything—like watching a movie or something.”

“A completely boring movie, if you ask me.”

She rolled her eyes, completely ignoring him. “Then, when I blinked my eyes, I was standing somewhere else. There was this lake, so beautiful, surrounded by mountains—like the entire scenery of it was just breathtaking, and I don’t think that’s in our country so he might have traveled somewhere overseas.”

He snorted. “Sounds like an annoying rich kid.”

“Can you just—” She sighed, calming herself down. “So, I saw him there with a camera in his hands and a guitar case strapped to his back. He was taking some shots of the landscape and, uhh,” she shyly chuckled, “I know it’s too fast for me to say this, but his face when he’s concentrating—“

“Constipating?”

“Concentrating,” she corrected and Donghyuck sent her a kissy face. “The face he made when he was concentrating was so cute.”

“Ugh, enough with the lame commentary.” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “Why are you so sure he’s your soulmate? Sounds like just another weird-ass dream to me.”

“I can’t really explain it, but…” Her eyes turned soft, cheeks going a bit rosy. “It feels like I just found something that I didn’t know I lost—something important, something that was a part of me, even. And it just makes me feel whole, you know? It’s weird saying this when I don’t even know his name but… That’s just how I feel. Everything just clicked.”

“Huh…” Donghyuck’s tongue was protruding against the inside of his mouth as he tried to process his thoughts. It suddenly felt like his heart was being cut into several pieces, the moment his reality sank in. He didn’t realize it was that serious. Or at least, he didn’t want it to be that serious.

She squeezed his hand. “You understand how I feel, don’t you, Haechannie?”

He sent her a timid smile before he pulled her body into him, pressing his chest against hers, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah,” he muttered softly, his lips grazing the fabric of her sweater. “I get it.” And she giggled, embracing him tighter, thinking that maybe he was just as happy as her.

She didn’t notice the way his fingers slowly curled against the back of her sweater. She didn’t notice how he deliberately pressed his lips against her clothed shoulder as he spoke so he could hide the shivers in his voice. And she didn’t notice how his eyes were shaking in the fear of losing her, how he could barely bear the pain in his chest, how his mind almost made him vomit the words he’d been dreading.

It’s okay. She hasn’t met him yet. Maybe it’s just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything.

God, please don’t let it mean anything.

***

It was a shade of purple, the color she used to paint a lavender in her sketchbook before she drew the rest of the landscape. But before she could finish painting the next thing, she sighed dreamily into the air, closing her drawing book with both hands.

“He’s in a band,” she said as they laid side-by-side on the grass, enjoying the warm sunlight on their faces and the scent of the pine trees in the garden near their homes. “Was. Or still is, I’m not sure.”

And she laughed, she always did whenever she talked about him and although the sound of it used to warm his heart, it made him struggle even more with jealousy. So he just hummed, scrolling down his Instagram feeds to distract him.

Three months had passed by ever since she had that dream, and Donghyuck was conflicted between wanting to know more or hearing none of it for the rest of his life. She had the dream every single night, reliving every single one of her soulmate’s memory—both past and present—every time she closed her eyes, and to him, she seemed more alive when she was about to go to bed, rather than after she woke up.

“I heard him sing once during his band practice when his vocalist had a sore throat. He sounded great but like, a bit hesitant, you know? Like he’s not confident with his voice.” She turned around to her stomach, staring at him with excitement in her eyes and a speck of scarlet painting her cheeks. “Well, he doesn’t sound anything like you, but I still think he’s great.”

“Good to know,” he coldly replied. She seemed to take notice of that.

“I’m sorry, Haechannie,” she said, “I must have bored you to death with all this soulmate talk.”

“Yeah, well, he’s your soulmate, not mine, so I couldn’t care any less.” He could’ve been nicer about it, but then again that wouldn’t be him.

“Well, guess what?” She landed half of her body on his stomach, knocking some of his breath with her weight but he just threw a glare in response and not pushing her away. “Somebody is having his eighteenth birthday in a month. So then, we’ll have your soulmate to talk about too.”

“Yaaay,” he weakly cheered, face flat and ignorant.

She pouted. “Why aren’t you excited about this? You’re gonna be dreaming about your soulmate! I’m excited to know who’s that lucky girl going to be.”

His chest felt heavy and it had nothing to do with the girl on top of him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I hope she’s nice and pretty,” she said, smiling genuinely at him. “Because only the most perfect girl in this entire universe can deserve my Haechannie.”

But he didn’t want a perfect girl. He just wanted her, so why was it so impossible to ask?

“Wish I could wish the same for you,” he said, placing his phone on his chest and leaned back on his elbows so he could focus his gaze on hers.

“What do you mean?”

And he switched their positions, rolling their bodies on the grass until she had her spine pressed against the ground with him hovering above her. “H-Haechannie?”

She looked so perfect like this—trapped between his arms, her doe eyes widening in surprise, taking in his sight, her lips parted making a soft gasp of his name.

Ah, I want to make her mine. Why can’t she be mine?

He leaned down, the tip of his nose almost brushing against hers. And if he could just forget everything—their friendship, her future life with her soulmate—for a few seconds and allow himself to be selfish, he would close the gap, meeting her lips with his, bask himself in her warmth, and he would let her moan against his mouth, would caress her cheeks with his fingertips, and would just wish the time to stop so they could repeat that for eternity.

But this reality of his was not that.

This reality of his felt more like a nightmare—one that he could never wake up from.

So in this reality, he brought his lips dangerously close to her ear, and whispered, “I hope your soulmate picks his nose and eats his booger whenever you’re not looking because only then he’d be perfect for you.”

And before she could kick his abs in response, he already scrambled back to his feet, running away as if his life depended on it.

***

It was the color of cerulean blue, the scarf that Donghyuck wore around his neck because he was a bit sensitive to cold even when spring was about to come to an end.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Donghyuck said, adrenaline rushing through his veins. “Anywhere. Just you and me.”

“What, now?” She frowned, looking at the clock on her bedroom wall. It was two hours before midnight—before he turned eighteen. “But it’s late—”

“I don’t care—”

“And it’s freezing outside—”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He was already tugging on her hand, pulling her up to her feet. He wrapped his scarf around her neck and placed his beanie on her head. “I don’t have my gloves but I’ll hold your hand all the way, so no more excuses and let’s go.”

Because it might be his last chance to spend his time with nothing but her presence filling his thoughts. He dreaded the possibility of having that dream sometime after the clock struck twelve. He didn’t want his heart to be taken by someone else—let alone, a stranger. And he knew he wouldn’t dream about her because she had found her soulmate and he was not him.

And if it was true—if having that dream changed his entire perspective where he could only love that one girl for the rest of his life then…

Just let me have this moment with her, where I can still love her with all my heart, even if she doesn’t love me the same way.

“Where are we going?” She demanded as they broke past the front door as quietly as they could since her parents were sleeping in their room.

“I don’t know—I don’t care—I just—” He breathed into the night air, puffs of warm breath painting the space between them. “Anywhere is fine. I just want to be with you.”

He saw her cheeks turning scarlet but he didn’t hope for too much. It was probably just the cold playing tricks on him.

“Okay, well then,” She tightened her duffle coat around her body. “Lead the way.”

He smiled, feeling blessed for having her putting so much faith in him, even after all this time.

There weren’t many places open at that hour, and it was fine because they already felt content just from walking side-by-side under the cherry blossoms that had withered all of their flowers. The way she held his hand reminded him of their younger days, both gentle and somewhat protective—like a sister to a younger brother and it made him feel both joy and sadness because he wanted to intertwine their fingers together as lovers, embrace each other under the dim glow of the streetlight, and connect their lips together while whispering loving words between chaste kisses.

“Haechannie,” she said, snapping him out of his reverie as she stopped them both in their tracks. “Happy birthday.”

Donghyuck blinked, not realizing how two hours just passed in an instant. “I’m as old as you, already?” He sneered. “I feel so gross.”

But she didn’t laugh the way he thought she would. Instead, she was looking at him with a glint of loneliness in her eyes which made him wonder why. “I bought you something.” She rummaged her coat’s pocket before she showed a little black box the size of her palm with a red bow wrapped around it.

Donghyuck faked a gasp. “No way, you’re proposing to me? But honey, I’m already carrying your child!”

She stomped her feet on his. “Shut up and just be serious for a sec, will ya?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He chuckled but he could hear how nervous he actually was from the little crack in his voice. He took the little present with a shy, slightly awkward smile. “Can I open it now?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t mock me for it.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at her before he opened the box to find a silver oval locket necklace displayed inside it. He glanced at her. “Don’t tell me you have a picture of us taking our bath together as babies in it.”

“Interesting, but no. I did have something written on it, though.”

“Okay, but if you wrote something stupid, I will—” He froze, hands stopping mid-air after he opened the locket and read the words engraved on the silver plate.

To my first love, Lee Donghyuck.

“Okay, before you say anything,” she cut him off, fidgeting a little on her feet. “Let me explain about it first. I don’t want to come out as weird or anything because after this, we’re both going to find our soulmates and go our separate ways so let me assure you that I’m not saying I love you that way, but—”

He pulled her into his chest, wrapping both of his arms around her shoulders, his lips pressing against her hair.

“Haechannie—”

“Shut up,” he said, closing his eyes as he calmed his racing heart. “Just shut up and let me have this moment.”

She wasn’t sure whether he got her previous message but she no longer cared, because at the end of the day, he was her first love in every way—as a family, a brother, a friend, and even a lover once, though she never allowed herself to think about him like that. So she tangled her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest, and closed her eyes for as long as he would let her.

Donghyuck wanted this moment to last forever but he knew time was running out even if he tried to stand still. It would be over the second he had that dream and fell in love with someone else. It would end the day she’d meet her soulmate, treating his existence merely as a bystander in her love story.

But for now… Just for now…

“I love you,” Donghyuck whispered so softly against her hair, almost inaudible by the sound of the wind passing through their ears. “I love you, Noona. So much that it hurts.”

She chuckled, embracing him tighter. “I love you too, Haechannie.”

Then why does this feel like a goodbye?

He pulled back, pressing his temple against hers. “There’s no life without you,” he said, a shy smile forming on his lips.

She cupped his cheek, rubbing comforting circles on his skin. “There’s no life without you, Haechannie.”

***

“So, umm, thanks for today,” Donghyuck said, as he walked her back to her house, rubbing his nape awkwardly as he said it. “And thanks for the gift. I’ll treasure it.”

“You better.” She playfully punched his arm. “It was pretty expensive, just so you know.”

“More expensive than a one-meter tall made-by-order alpaca doll I bought you?”

“Sorry, I’ll take that back.” She winced, and Donghyuck chuckled a little bit under his breath, patting her head and letting his fingers linger a little longer than usual on the soft strands of her hair.

“Well…” He retracted his hand, placing them in his coat’s pocket. “Good night.”

“See you tomorrow.” And she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek at the same time he was about to do the same and their lips grazed each other, soft lips meeting softer ones in the faintest of touch but carved something deep both in their bodies and minds.

They both took a step back at the same time, startled. He was busy looking anywhere but her face, and she concealed her lips with her fingers, bringing her head down to hide her eyes underneath her bangs.

There was a silence that made his skin crawl. “S-sorry, I was—”

“No, it’s okay, I get it,” she immediately said, forcing a smile before she hastily turned on her heels, her shaky fingers searching for her doorknob. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Donghyuck still had trouble breathing. “Y-yeah, sure.”

She timidly smiled again before she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Now that they were both out of each other’s sight, Donghyuck inaudibly cursed into the air, running a hand through his hair, feeling his heart ramming against his ribcages while she slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and pressed her spine against the back of her front door.

The thought of their brief, accidental kiss was the only thing that painted their minds even behind their closed eyelids as they laid on their beds, hoping for exhaustion to take over their bodies. Once it did, they both fall into a soundless sleep where she began to think about another pair of lips but it wasn’t the case for Donghyuck.

Because, as he fell into his first soulmate dream, he was facing the same person—the girl who owned his heart, whose lips were just as soft as he’d imagined them to be.

Noona, he spoke inside the dream, staring at the sight of her, why am I dreaming about you?

***

834 notes · View notes

riversofmars · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: 13 and River babysit Anthony Williams (Amy and Rory’s adopted son)

This is such a cute prompt! I combined it with a similar one and hope this works for you, enjoy! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 1800

Read on AO3 or below

All in the Family

“And you’re sure you’re up for this?“ Amy turned to River one more time, halfway out of the door of their flat in 1940s New York.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?“ River crossed her arms in front of her chest challengingly.

“You’re not exactly the most responsible adult.“ Rory couldn’t help pointing out and glanced to his wife to find out whether they were going to change their minds at the last minute.

“I'll take that as a compliment.“ River smirked. “Remember this was your idea.“

“Yes but only because we don’t know many people here yet!“ Rory admitted.

“And having your baby stolen once, you don’t want to trust strangers, I get it.“ River gave her parents a kind smile. She was very happy for them. They deserved to have the calm family life that they had missed out on with her. Adopting baby Anthony had been a wonderful idea.

“It’s just been such a long time since we’ve been able to go out.“ Amy explained. “I just didn’t understand how hard raising a child would be!“ She sighed, running her hand through her hair. She was more exhausted than she ever had been while travelling with the Doctor. “We just really need to have an evening just for us.“

“Say no more and get yourself going before I change my mind.“ River ushered them out the door.

“You are a godsend, River.“ Amy kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t get up to anything stupid.“ She wagged her finger at her.

“What, me? Stupid? Perish the thought.“ River feigned hurt but laughed.

“Just make sure Anthony is okay.“ Amy implored her and gave a little wave to the toddler that was just coming up behind River and wrapping his arms around her leg.

“You can count on me. We’ll have a brilliant time, won’t we, brother dearest?“ River smiled down at the child and patted his head.

“Ri-ver.“ The toddler nuzzled into her thigh.

“See, fast friends already.“ River chuckled and lifted him up.

“Does she… do you know anything about toddlers?“ Rory asked, insecure for a moment.

“I am married to the Doctor, does that count?“ River countered and the Ponds laughed:

“Fair point…“

“Relax, we will be fine, it’s just for a few hours.“ River kissed the forehead of her adoptive brother who was giving her a koala bear hug. “Tea, books, bed. I got this.“

“See you both later, look after each other.“ Amy smiled and kissed Anthony’s head, as did Rory.

“This is a bad idea…“ Rory hummed to his wife as they waved their goodbyes and made their way down the corridor.

“It’s a brilliant idea.“ Amy waved off his concerns.

“Right Anthony, there is someone I would like you to meet.“ River smiled at her little brother as she closed the door.

“Meet?“ Anthony echoed as River carried him back into the living room.

“Someone very special: Your brother-in-law. Well, I say brother… sister-in-law? Alien-in-law?“ River grinned,and as if on cue the TARDIS became visible in the lounge.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me see them!“ The Doctor stuck her head out, having waited patiently for the Ponds to depart.

“Because they never would have left and they could do with a break.“ River explained with a chuckle as her wife skipped out of the TARDIS and towards them.

“Hello Anthony Pond!“ She grinned, ruffling the toddler’s curls who just giggled in response. He appeared fascinated by the sudden appearance of the blue box and pulled away from River, seemingly wanting to be set down.

“Williams…“ River corrected the Doctor as she sat her brother down who rushed to the TARDIS, circling around it in wonder.

“What shall we play with, Anthony?“ The Doctor ignored her wife and dropped to her knees in the middle of a pile of toys. “See, we’re gonna have the best time!“ She pulled her screwdriver from her coat and sonic-ed the toys. All of a sudden, cars and toy robots started moving on their own accord. Anthony giggled in delight and rushed over to the Doctor, the TARDIS no longer the most interesting thing around here.

“Guess that means I’m making tea?“ River chuckled as Anthony threw himself at the Doctor.

“Would you want either one of us close to a hob?“ The Doctor retorted, hugging the child tightly.

“Fair point.“ River chuckled.

——

“I don’t know why I asked you here, it’s like babysitting two toddlers.“ River was cleaning up the kitchen after tea had turned into a food fight.

“'Cause this is the closest thing you and I have to a family.“ The Doctor answered with surprising candour. Anthony was jawing, leaning against her.

“As much as I try to, I don’t really feel like part of them…“ River answered thoughtfully.

“Our lives are more complicated than that…“ The Doctor couldn’t help but agree. Neither one of them was suited to regular family dynamics.

“Would it be so bad though? Settling down for a time?“ River mused, looking from Anthony to her wife.

“Maybe at some point.“ The Doctor gave her a soft smile. This River hadn’t done Darillium yet. She had all of that to come and the Doctor missed their time there more than she would care to admit.

“Bed time?“ She asked, seeing as Anthony was virtually falling asleep next to her.

“I think so.“ River agreed with a smile and walked over to them. “Come here Anthony…“ She scooped him up. “Let’s get you into your PJs…“

Both the Doctor and River had presumed bedtime would be easy, considering how tired Anthony was, but they had thought wrong.

“Stop turning the light on and off!“ River pleaded, picking him up again to finally put him in his bed. Anthony appeared to have saved up his energy just for this.

“Still want kids?“ The Doctor tried her best to keep a straight face as she watched her wife struggle with the toddler.

“You know all of a sudden, being a big sister seems perfectly adequate.“ River retorted.

“I’ll get him a bottle of milk.“ The Doctor suggested, just as Anthony got up again and raced past River to the light switch.

“Stop it with the light switch!“ River groaned and scooped him up again. “Please, will you just stay in bed now?“ She tugged him in.

“Well well well, isn’t this a lovely sight.“ A voice sounded from the doorway that made River’s blood run cold. She whipped around, standing protectively in front of the bed.

“Madame Kovarian, how did you…“ She stared at the woman in the doorway.

“I knew I would find you eventually.“ Madame Kovarian smirked, walking further into the room. “And who is this little man? Tell me, am I a grandmother?“

“How dare you show your face here!“ River growled, regretting immediately that she left her gun in the TARDIS. She hadn’t anticipated needing it for babysitting duties.

“I believe you and I have some unfinished business.“ Kovarian retorted. “How is motherhood treating you, Melody? Where is the husband? Leaving you to do all the child care?“

“Right behind you!“ The Doctor called from the doorway, armed with nothing but a bottle of milk. She quickly accessed the situation in front of her, glaring at the unwelcome guest.

“Oh well, not your child then, is it?“ Kovarian retorted with a cruel smirk. “Now then, I think it’s time for some good old fashioned revenge…“ She pulled a gun on them.

Suddenly the light flicked off! Anthony had snuck out from behind River and gone for his favourite game again. River jumped at the opportunity. She flung herself at Kovarian and disarmed her quickly. The moment the light came back on, Kovarian was on the floor and River held her gun to her head.

“Never underestimate a Pond!“ The Doctor grinned and scooped up the child into a tight hug.

“You little monster!“ Kovarian spat.

“If anyone is a monster here, Madame Kovarian, it’s you.“ River retorted icily.

“Surprisingly quiet in here… maybe River managed to get him to sleep alright after all…“ Rory mused as he opened the door to the flat and they walked inside. It had been a lovely evening, just what they needed.

“What the…“ Amy stopped dead in her tracks as they stepped into the living room.

“Amelia Pond! And Rory the Roman!“ The Doctor exclaimed and ran towards them, pulling them into bone crushing hugs.

“River?!“ Amy exclaimed, needing an explanation. Who was this woman? What was she doing in their flat? Why did she know who they were? And why was Madame Kovarian tied to a chair in the middle of their lounge?!

“What can I say… Mum, Dad… when my husband regenerated into a hot blonde I started batting for the other team, hope that’s alright with you.“ River answered, gesturing to the Doctor who grinned widely, barely able to contain her excitement.

“What?!“ Amy and Rory exclaimed in unison.

“She didn’t want to tell you I was here cause she thought you’d be worried we’d set the place on fire…“ River explained a little bit more apologetically.

“Instead you have a tied up Madame Kovarian in our living room?!“ Amy gestured to the unwelcome guest.

“Ouch!“ Kovarian groaned when Anthony chucked a building block at her.

“Good shot, mate!“ The Doctor grinned and gave him a high five. Of course, Anthony had refused to go to bed after the excitement.

“Sorry, just got to finish building this transdimensional teleport. Teaching Anthony the basics of temporal engineering as we go. One way trip to Stormcage.“ River explained, gesturing to a circle of electrical components that had been erected around Kovarian. Long cables connected it to the TARDIS. “Unless I get the coordinates wrong… might end up in a sun instead…“ She mused.

“Melody, don’t do it, I…“ Kovarian pleaded.

“You have threatened my family for the last time. This is goodbye, Madame Kovarian, for the last time.“ River finished attaching the cables.

“Good riddance!“ Rory mumbled in agreement.

“Anthony!“ Amy called when the toddler skipped forward and hit a big red button on the contraption. Something no child would be able to resist. Kovarian disappeared in a flash of light!

“Was the teleport even calibrated?!“ The Doctor looked to River who gave a little shrug.

“I’ll check up on her when I’m in Stormcage next… she may have ended up in the cantina rather than an actual cell… but never mind.“ She looked to her parents. “So, how was your date?“

“Certainly less eventful than this.“ Amy shook her head in disbelief.

“Come on, mate, let’s get you to bed.“ The Doctor scooped Anthony up who nuzzled into her neck.

“Doc-tor.“

#Doctor who #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #river song #spaces wives #amy pond #rory williams #madame kovarian #fluff #femslash #family #river x the doctor #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #yowzah #fanfiction #prompt #dw #anthony williams

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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

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

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

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

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

December- Fell in love with her in stages

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ellie frowns. “Soors.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck’s sake. What’s it called?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“BITCH!”

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t shit, it was good!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In your dreams, love.”

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

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

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

She is beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is Jaegerbombs vegan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Men’s dress trousers in a hotel.”

A’whora can only blink. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on.”

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

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

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

And then Tayce is on her own.

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, that’s maybe a lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is off to a flying start.”

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

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

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

“Radox?”

Tayce splutters. “Detox!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tayce.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All yours, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The kraken awakes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kissing Tayce.

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Jesus. Did anything else happen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She can’t wait.

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

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

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

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clumsyclifford · 3 years ago

Note

OKAY. how about "This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…" with ur teacher alex/ambiguous office job jack? (or any version of jalex) (we just love jalex in this house)

well hello, she said casually, nine months later. thank you for the excellent prompt, sorry it took me so long to get to it, but you can thank yourself for that too considering going to ssf is what inspired me to finally write this one. bellawritess clumsyclifford pictures is proud to present: the tshirt jalex meet-cute :)

read here on ao3

Later, Alex learns that the boy at the barricade who’d elbowed Alex in the face trying to snatch the thrown guitar pick out of the air is named Jack.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack says for the millionth time, even though Alex has laughed it off every other time. He laughs it off this time, too.

“Seriously, it’s fine. And hey, you caught it.”

Jack holds up the guitar pick, triumphant. “I did catch it,” he says. The blink-182 logo flashes its dead and frozen smile at Alex. Alex finds himself smiling back, though not so much at the pick.

The leaving crowd parts around the two of them. Headlights flood the night, filling the street before them with light and noise. There’s a line of cars backed up further than Alex cares to imagine. Those at the front must have left the show significantly before the set was over. Quitters.

“What I didn’t catch was your name,” Jack adds. His lips quirk, like he’s proud of such a smooth line.

“Alex,” says Alex. “We should probably get out of everyone’s way. Are you waiting for someone, or…?”

“No, no, I came alone.”

“Yeah, me too. Was supposed to have a friend but he bailed on me last-minute.”

“Seriously? Bailed on a blink concert?”

“I know, right?” Alex grins. “Eh, whatever. If he’d been here you probably never would have elbowed me in the face and then we’d never have met.”

“But I would’ve never elbowed you in the face,” Jack says. “Don’t you think you’d have preferred that?”

“Not if it means we’d have never met.”

Jack’s smile slowly grows. “Fair enough. Did you know there’s a 24-hour diner literally five minutes from here?”

“Oh, man, I like the way you think,” Alex says, shoving his hands into his pockets to protect them from the cool late-night breeze. “I didn’t want to sit in this traffic anyway.”

“And I don’t blame you.”

“Well, lead the way,” Alex says, nodding down the sidewalk, and he falls into step with Jack as they both start to walk.

The Tastee Diner is charmingly diner-y — neon lights, stools at the bar, the whole nine yards — and, more attractively, it’s mostly empty at this hour. It’s past midnight, later even than Alex’s usual bedtime, but between the buzz from the concert and Jack the attractive stranger across from him, he’s not really feeling tired. If he’s going to flush his sleep schedule down the drain, a post-concert Friday night seems like the best time to do it.

And Jack is really cute. So that helps.

“Breakfast,” Alex says reverently when they’re seated. “Oh my God, a fucking giant waffle.”

“Wow, everything you say makes me like you more,” Jack says, leaning his elbows on the table. Alex glances over the top of his menu but Jack’s eyes are focused on his own menu on the tabletop. He’s smiling a little. So is Alex.

“It’s a giant waffle, Jack! How the fuck do I say no to that?”

“You don’t. This table is pro-giant waffle. At the exclusion of anything else.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Alex says. “Do we also happen to be pro-chocolate milkshake?”

“We’re pro-vanilla milkshake.”

“Ew, seriously?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know, how can I like vanilla when chocolate is right there—”

“Yeah, how can you?” Alex reaches over the table and covers Jack’s hand with his own. Their eyes meet. Very seriously, Alex says, “How do you look at yourself in the mirror, you monster?”

A beat. Jack chews his lip, clearly trying not to smile. “With great difficulty,” he says. He’s humoring Alex, but sincerity sparkles in his deep brown eyes. His earnest gaze holds Alex’s and he doesn’t pull his hand away. After a moment, Alex does.

“Well, if I looked like you I’d never stop looking in the mirror,” he says instead, and brings his gaze back to the menu. A laugh escapes Jack.

“You can’t turn it off, can you?”

“Turn what off?”

“Your flirty brain-to-mouth pipeline?”

“I could,” Alex says breezily. “I choose not to.” It feels like a subtle rejection, a quiet dig, but it’s hard to be sure. Jack’s smirk seems to suggest otherwise.

The waitress comes by to take their orders of two giant waffles and two milkshakes — chocolate for Alex, vanilla for Jack, though Alex is sure to give Jack a judgmental look as he’s ordering. When she goes, Jack laces his fingers together and leans back in the booth. “So,” he says. “Your name is Alex, you’ve got fantastic music taste, and you seem to be more or less my age, but that’s about all I know about you. Are you from around here? What do you do? Likes, dislikes?”

“Are you trying to build me a dating profile?”

“That wouldn’t be very opportunistic of me, would it?” Jack smiles innocently. Alex’s heart gives a little leap. “I’m trying to get to know you. You know, like any normal stranger would if they found themself at a diner with another stranger.”

That’s fair. They are effectively strangers, although Alex can think of a shorter word to describe what they’re doing right now. He glances around at the jukebox-esque machine bolted to the wall next to their booth, at the empty swivel stools at the bar, at the marble tabletop where Jack is absently tapping his fingers. The decor of the diner is very classic, and he and Jack, both dressed in blink merch and black jeans like the perpetual emo teens they’re no doubt trying to emulate, stick out like sore thumbs.

However unintentional, it sure as hell feels like a date to him.

“I’m from Baltimore,” he starts. Jack lights up.

“No shit! Me too.”

“Really? Whereabouts?”

“Well, I work by the harbor.”

“No shit, I work in Highlandtown,” Alex says excitedly. “Highlandtown Middle. I’m a teacher.”

Jack whistles lowly. “That’s fucking awesome. What do you teach?”

“Music,” Alex says, and Jack groans, although he’s smiling as his hands move to cover his face.

“Of course you do,” he says.

Alex tilts his head. “What, are you not a fan of music teachers? That’s insane.”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just.” Jack laughs. “Of course the hot guy I meet at a blink-182 concert is a middle school music teacher. I feel like God is punishing me for refusing to play anything but bad drums in middle school band.”

Alex also laughs. Being called a hot guy by a hot guy is making his stomach do gymnastics. He’s too old for his stomach to be doing things like that, but his stomach clearly doesn’t care. “Well, if I’d been your teacher, trust me, you’d have been playing solidly mediocre drums. But I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Jack’s hands fall to his lap. “I’m sure I’ll get over it,” he says with a slanted smile.

Alex swallows and grins. “So did you look up surrounding diners before you came, or are you just…inexplicably familiar with Silver Spring geography?”

“I come to a lot of concerts here,” Jack says, nodding in the general direction of the venue they’d just vacated. “Venue’s awesome.”

“Yeah, it really is. Honestly, I’m still amazed that you caught that pick.”

“I have a lot of practice. From aforementioned many concerts.”

“I can see that.”

“Trust me, it’s a very specific skill. I’ve got awful hand-eye coordination,” Jack says with a chuckle. “My dream of being the youngest Oriole inducted into the Hall of Fame was crushed at a young age.”

Fizzy champagne fills Alex’s chest. He can’t stop smiling. “Fuck yes, you’re an Orioles fan?”

“That’s my team,” Jack says, looking excited. Possibly at the prospect of meeting another person who’s equally interested in both music and baseball. That’s why Alex is excited, anyway.

“It’s my team,” he says enthusiastically. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they fucking suck—”

“Oh, no, yeah, they’re the worst—”

“But I’d take a bullet for them. I happily go down with ‘em every year.”

“Yeah, they’re my boys,” Jack agrees. “Here’s hoping this season is better than every single other one.”

“Yeah, all my fingers are crossed, but between you and me I don’t have a lot of faith.”

Jack shrugs and nods. “It’s good for my ego to be so loyal to such a bad team. Keeps me humble.”

“That’s the best attitude I’ve ever heard,” Alex says, and Jack’s smile is so radiant Alex could swear he can feel the glare off the shiny marble tabletop.

“Between ‘All The Small Things’ and ‘Going Away To College’ how the fuck am I going to choose ‘Small Things’?”

“Yeah, but it’s such a classic! ‘College’ is, like, emo and…emo.”

“No more emo than ‘I Miss You’ —”

“That one is a classic—”

“I’m not saying it’s not, I’m just saying ‘College’ is their best song and it deserves its spotlight.”

“That’s ‘Feeling This’ erasure and you know it.”

“Besides ‘Feeling This,’ but they always play ‘Feeling This.’ I stand by what I said. I’d swap ‘Small Things’ for ‘College.’ Deal with it.” Alex tongues his milkshake straw into his mouth. “Your turn.”

Jack glares at him for another long moment, like he has to properly make his point about it. “Fine,” he finally huffs. His gaze shifts sideways, off into the distance like he’s thinking, and he swirls his own straw around his milkshake cup. Alex can kind of see his reflection in it. While Jack is thinking, Alex quickly checks his phone.

(21:47) Rian Dawson: How’s the concert? Fuckin bummed I couldn’t make it :/

(21:48) Rian Dawson: Hope you’re having a good time anyway. Text me whenever you get home so I know you didn’t die or get trampled by a mosh pit or whatever the case may be.

Alex smiles and turns off his phone again.

“I feel like I can’t choose a song off Enema now that you did,” Jack mumbles.

“You can,” Alex says. “It would just be kind of a lot of Enema.”

“No, but Enema is a legendary album. I’d go to a show that was literally just all of Enema.”

“Why were you complaining about ‘College’ then!”

“I’m not complaining about ‘College’ itself, I just would never trade it for ‘Small Things’!”

Alex scoffs. “They play ‘Small Things’ all the time. I’ve never seen ‘College’ live. I’d literally kill.”

“Oh my God, I know what I’d do,” Jack says. “‘Shut Up’ instead of ‘Down.’ That’s the only thing that could make this set list more perfect.”

“Ohhh,” Alex says, “that would be fucking sick. Imagine two thousand people just shouting ‘shut the fuck up, she said’ at the top of their lungs.”

“I cannot think of anything cooler than that.”

Alex hums thoughtfully. “So you went with Take Off Your Pants instead of Enema in the end.”

“Alright, don’t get it twisted. If I could add the entirety of Enema to the set list, I would. But if I only get one song, it has to be ‘Shut Up.’ More Enema is never a bad thing.”

“Why wouldn’t you trade ‘College’ for ‘Down’ then?”

“Because that was your set list move, and this is mine,” Jack says. He slaps the table. “Yeah. This is the answer. Someone get Mark Hoppus on the line, stat. I have to tell him I’ve figured out the formula for the perfect set list.”

“‘Shut Up’ live would be awesome,” Alex concedes. “Good move.”

“What can I say, I have extremely good taste,” Jack says airily.

Alex snorts. “Okay, Vanilla Milkshake.”

“You’re just afraid to taste it because you know deep down that it will be better than your chocolate one,” Jack says, pointing his straw accusingly at Alex. Drops of milkshake fall onto the table. Alex sweeps a napkin over the mess.

“You had an advantage over me, though,” he observes. “You said your favorite blink song is ‘Feeling This,’ which was already on the set list. My favorite song wasn’t, so my hands were kind of tied.”

“It’s among my favorite blink songs,” Jack says. “I have many. Most of which are set list staples, yeah. But that’s on you for only having one favorite song.”

“Wait, what? You can’t have many favorites, that defeats the whole point of having a favorite.”

“I can have multiple favorites, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“No way, man. You only get to have one favorite. You can have second-favorites or close favorites but there’s always one that’s better than the rest.”

“Sorry to burst you bubble, Al, but I have more than one favorite blink song,” Jack says, shrugging. “I also have more than one favorite color and more than one favorite food and more than one favorite song.”

Alex shakes his head through Jack’s speech. “I reject this out of hand.”

“You can’t.”

“Well, Clearly Enema is your favorite blink album.”

“Tied with Take Off.”

“Seriously?” Alex narrows his eyes. “Come on, there must be one thing you have just one favorite of.”

“Yeah, there is,” Jack says. “My favorite movie is Home Alone. No other movie comes anywhere close.”

Of course it is. Alex grins and inclines his head in accordance. “That…is extremely good taste.”

“Thank you,” Jack says graciously, and slurps loudly from his milkshake.

The next time Alex checks his phone, his brain takes a moment to catch up. “Holy shit, it’s already one a.m.?”

“Oh shit,” Jack says, checking his phone as well. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

That adage has never felt more true. Slowly working through giant waffles and milkshakes while exchanging questions and random conversational topics with Jack has been the most fun Alex has had in a long time. Diners, he muses. There’s something about diners. Time feels frozen within these walls, and Alex kind of wants to stay in the time bubble forever, laughing with Jack until the sun comes up.

He could do it. Tomorrow’s a Saturday. Nobody works on Saturday, not even Jack at his “boring office job” (his words).

But he knows there’s a reason that nothing gold can stay. It wouldn’t be valuable if it lasted forever. The night will crystallize as something special in Alex’s memory, but it can’t do that until it ends. And it has to end eventually.

“We should probably go,” Alex says reluctantly. Jack nods once.

“Yeah,” he says. He signals for the check and looks back at Alex. “My treat.”

“Uh, no way. I’m paying.”

“Nope, not happening. I will elbow you in the face again if I have to. I’m paying this check.”

“Jack—” Alex wavers. Jack looks so insistent, eyebrows raised like he’s daring Alex to argue, and there’s nothing to do but smile. “Okay. If you insist. We’ll call it even for you assaulting me earlier.”

“Exactly,” Jack says, and he happily accepts the check when the waitress hands it to him.

“Did you guys get everything you need?” she asks the two of them.

Alex glances at Jack, but Jack’s scanning the check. “Pretty much, yeah,” he tells the waitress. She leaves them with the check, and they vacate their table to go pay it at the front.

Alex wonders what someone might think if they saw this table. Whether anyone could even begin to illustrate the story of the night using only two empty milkshake cups and two plates that formerly held waffles. It would be impossible. Not even Sherlock Holmes could work this one out.

Alex smiles. They’re a fossil in amber, preserved in memory. Even if it turns out not to be a date, Alex knows he’ll look back on tonight fondly, and he can count on this exact same smile every time he does.

Jack finishes paying and turns to face Alex. One arm outstretched, he says, “Shall we?”

Alex links their arms. “After you, good sir.”

They’re laughing as they leave in a glow of neon light.

“This is me,” Alex says, gesturing half-heartedly at his car. They both stop short behind it.

“Ah,” Jack says, nodding. “So I guess this is where I leave you.”

Alex swallows. “I’m glad you elbowed me in the face,” he admits, which sounds strange to say out of the blue. “I had a good time tonight.”

“What, at the concert?”

Jack is obviously teasing, but Alex doesn’t mind being more clear. “Actually, I think I had more fun after the concert,” he says, smiling a little. “You’re good company, JB.”

Jack smiles, and if Alex isn’t mistaken, he’s also blushing. “Same to you,” he says. “Despite your wrong opinions about the set list.”

“I hate sounding like a cliché,” Alex says, ruffling a hand through his hair. Jack cocks his head. “But, um, I’d like to see you again. If that’s okay.”

“So okay,” Jack says. “And totally plausible, considering we apparently live within twenty minutes of each other.”

“True,” Alex says. “The universe really wanted us to meet, I guess.”

“Thank you, Universe, for putting Alex in harm’s way,” Jack says solemnly, looking upwards. Alex laughs. “Can I have your number?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.”

Alex recites his phone number for Jack to enter into his contacts. “I promise I’ll call,” Jack says. His gaze flits around Alex’s face like it can’t find a good place to land. He drags his index finger diagonally over his chest. “Cross my heart and everything.”

“I have to ask,” Alex says, shifting on his feet. “Were you— was this supposed to be a date?” He hesitates; maybe that’s the wrong question. “Was it a date?”

“For the sake of anniversaries, let’s say yes,” Jack says. Immediately his face puckers in regret. “Pretend I didn’t say that. I’m— my brain gets ahead of me.”

“No, it’s all good.” It’s more than good; there’s a horde of butterflies in Alex’s ribcage that won’t fucking quit, not now that he knows Jack is thinking of anniversaries when this is only maybe their first date. A person who is not only anticipating a future for them but preparing to celebrate it. So far, so fucking good. “You’re a practical thinker. I can appreciate that.”

“And I appreciate that you aren’t deleting your number from my phone even after I just said that to you,” Jack says, grinning. His grin melts away when he sighs. “I should go. It’s late.”

“Yeah,” Alex echoes. “Late.”

“Please drive safe,” Jack says seriously. “If I’m the last person to see you before you die, that’ll make me look really bad.”

Alex laughs. He likes that Jack keeps making him laugh. His friends make him laugh, too, but Jack makes him laugh in a different way, like he can’t stop himself. Like the delight refuses to stay trapped.

“I promise to drive safe,” he vows. “I owe you a date. I would hate to lose the chance to impress you.”

“Oh, wait, that reminds me.” Jack reaches into his pocket and presses something into Alex’s hand. It’s the guitar pick, warm from Jack’s pocket. “You’ll probably use it more than me,” Jack explains, ducking his head. “You know, being a music teacher and all.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes, flipping the pick in his palm. “That’s, um…thank you. Thanks. I’m…”

“Yeah,” Jack says, licking his lips. “Of course. Um, okay, now I really should go. But like I said, I’ll call.”

Alex nods, still staring at the guitar pick in his hand. His head snaps up and he breaks from whatever trance he’d fallen into. “I’m counting on it,” he says, stepping closer to Jack. He hears Jack inhale as he leans closer, brushing his lips to Jack’s cheek.

When Jack speaks, it’s a hoarse whisper. “I had a good time too, you know.”

Alex leans away and starts walking backwards to the driver-side door. “Good,” he says, smiling warmly. He’s not really trying to smile so warmly but he can’t help it. “Get home safe, Jack.”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “You too, Alex.”

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notfunnydean · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: None Warnings: None Word Count: 2.212 Challenge: @sqz-zine Summary: When the end comes, Castiel has an idea how to save them all. It even gives him a new job. One he likes a lot more. Link (if posted on AO3): https://archiveofourown.org/works/29353596

“There is nothing you can do Castiel.”

Chuck’s grin is almost disgusting and while there were quite a few moments where Castiel would’ve loved to punch his father. This one takes the cake. Or… maybe the pie? Dean loves pie more.

“C-Cas.”

Castiel swallows dryly. He doesn’t know what to do and he doesn’t have much time anymore either. He knows Sam and Dean don't have much time anymore.

“So Castiel what is your plan here?” Chuck says and with a small movement of his hand some kind of throne appears out of nothing. Chuck sits down, suddenly a guitar in his hand, and starts to play a melody that Castiel doesn’t know.

“To beat you.” Castiel says and he looks to his left. Sam’s breathing is harsh right now, he’s clearly in a lot of pain. Dean is already unconscious.

Castiel had always hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but deep inside him he had known it for some years. That doesn’t mean he is ready. He doesn’t want to lose the two best friends he had ever had.

“Doesn’t seem like this is working out for you, huh?” Chuck says and Castiel clenches his fists. He needs a solution. If he could just stop this all together.

No.

Wait.

If he could prevent everything that happened to the Winchesters, to could save them so much tears, blood and pain.

Castiel looks down, searching for his grace deep in him. He knows he is not at full power but he needs to make this work. His concern about the Winchester Boys always helped him to find his strength.

“It’s f-fine.” Sam tries to say, but Castiel ignores him. He would save them. He would not only give them a better life, but himself as well.

“Castiel, come on. We both know that you can’t stop this.” Chuck says again, still looking so utterly pleased with himself. Castiel knows that he is right. In the end he is not stronger than his father, as much as he would want to be.

No, maybe Amara could beat him, but not Castiel. But right now this isn’t his plan anyway. He just has to distract him.

“No, I can’t.” Castiel says, down on his knees by now, but he can feel his grace rumbling through his whole body. Almost like tiny thunderbolts.

The guitar vanishes and Chuck looks honestly surprised. Maybe he hadn’t thought that Castiel would give up so easily. Well, Castiel won’t but he hopes Chuck believes him.

Sam’s eyes flutter shut as well, but Castiel can still feel both their heartbeats. They are both fine and it would stay that way.

“Glad you -”

“But I can start it all over again!”

Castiel’s grace literally explodes all around him. He doesn’t have the time to look into Chuck’s stupid face. Instead he presses his right hand on Dean’s shoulder again, where he once marked him before. His left hand finds Sam’s arm.

When the light grows too bright even for him, Castiel closes his eyes.

They’re safe.

It’s fall.

It’s still warm outside and Castiel enjoys seeing the leaves falling down from the trees, coloring all the grey streets and front yards. He’s standing at the small window right now and looks outside.

He’s glad that his plan worked out. Dean and Sam are safe and for the first time Castiel feels fully relaxed.

Sure he has a new job, but he really likes this one. Likes all the responsibility that comes with it. This is his new purpose and unlike the last time he had a job in heaven, this one on earth, makes him happy.

“John?”

Even though Castiel is not being the one called, he turns around and smiles even wider when he actually sees the small room, he’s standing in.

The walls are a pale green and there are toys everywhere. Castiel likes how cozy it all looks, but his favorite is probably the mobile above the bigger bed. Sure the angels don’t look like him, but he doesn’t care.

(But what’s with humans and those halos?)

There is even a tiny poster of an Impala on the wall and Castiel knows in the colorful box next to the bed are a lot of tiny cars. Castiel has to say he understands why the boy loves them so much.

“John, we need to go.” Mary says again and it seems like her husband is sitting on the couch downstairs. Castiel wanders down to them, slowly looking at all the lovely pictures on the wall right at the stairs.

“I know, darling. Just waiting for the babysitter.” John calls back and Castiel enters the living room. He’s glad that they can’t see him like this. He doesn’t like lying to either of them and it’s not really lying, but he has a job.

Protect Sam and Dean. What can he say - it’s a full time job.

“Look Sammy like this!” Dean says and he sounds always so excited when he can help his baby brother. Castiel can see them on the carpet, playing with said toy cars. Of course. Dean loves to play with them all day.

Sam can’t really play with him for now, with only five months and a few weeks he’s not good at any games, but he adores his big brother already.

“Did he say when he wanted to come?” Mary asks and she comes into the living room away. She’s beautiful like this, so happy, free of a hunting life. She’s wearing a white summer dress and kisses John’s cheek.

“Should be here any minute.” John promises and he turns off the TV, to get his jacket. Castiel looks back to the kids.

“Oh uh Sammy, that’s not the street.” Dean giggles and he pushes Sam’s car on his own through the finish line. Sam clasps happily at that, not caring that he needs Dean’s help for that.

“I hope you two will be good.” John says, wearing his jacket now and Dean looks up. His bright green eyes wide.

“Yes daddy.” Dean says smiling brightly and John ruffles his hair. Castiel’s heart beats faster when he sees this loving family like that. No pain, no blood.

Castiel smiles and then vanishes.

The door rings and Dean is the one who runs to the door. He has to stretch to actually open the door, but before he can do so, John catches him easily and opens the door himself. Dean whines loudly.

“You’re late.” John says and opens the door wider, before he puts Dean down again. Dean toddles closer, holding already his arms out for a hug.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted.” Castiel says and he kneels down to get Dean into his arms. Dean cuddles against him, thumb already in his mouth and he still manages to grin at Castiel.

“Cas!”

Castiel gets up again, Dean still in his arms. He knows Dean wouldn’t let go for some time now, but Castiel has to say he enjoys seeing Dean so utterly happy. Castiel is so glad that he can spend more time with them. Happy time.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel mumbles into Dean’s soft hair.

“Ah all good. Mary is even ready this time. So we will probably be back by midnight. I mean you know what to do with them anyway.” John explains and Castiel nods. Mary comes towards him and kisses his cheek.

Castiel remembers a time where she was always so careful around him and didn’t trust him with Sam and Dean. He’s glad she can do that now.

“I wish you a lot of fun.” Castiel says and Mary kisses Dean goodbye. At first it was harder, Dean had often cried when his parents left for a date, but now he just waves at her and focuses on Castiel again.

“Play?”

“Of course, Dean. What do you have in mind?” Castiel asks and he walks towards the living room. Sam is still laying on the carpet but he glucks happily when he sees them.

“Cars! Uhm if it’s okay.” Dean says and Castiel strokes his face. He puts Dean down next to his cars and then sits down himself, after he puts his trenchcoat on the couch.

It’s the only thing he kept from the old time. Otherwise he dresses in soft sweaters and jeans now, so the cuddles with the boys are even softer.

“Of course it is Dean. I know how much you love cars.” Castiel says and he tickles Sam’s stomach, who giggles adorably. They have to eat dinner in a bit and then need to get a bath before it’s bedtime already.

Castiel enjoys bedtime the most.

“Oh did you get a new car?” Castiel asks and Dean smiles shyly up at him, before he holds up his new red car. It looks pretty, but then again Castiel likes most cars.

“But Pala is my favorite.” Dean says and points at the Chevy Impala that is currently in front of Castiel. The angel smiles, because he seems to be the only one who is allowed to play with it.

Dean never allowed him to drive the Impala, but this feels just as good. Dean fully trusts him and Castiel would do anything to deserve that trust.

“Well, she is beautiful.” Castiel says and Dean smiles so happily again. Sam plays with his own toys now (or tries to) and Castiel spends the next half an hour playing little races with Dean. Of course Dean wins each time.

“Cas?” Dean says, rubbing his eyes already and Castiel thinks about skipping bath time, because of that. Dean doesn’t get cranky easily, but sometimes it’s all too much when he’s tired.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’m hungry.” Dean says sheepishly and Castiel rolls his eyes inwardly, but laughs. Yeah well some things don’t change.

“Of course, you little monster.” Castiel says and he tickles Dean, before he helps him up to walk to the kitchen. He is glad that monsters are just not a part of Dean's life anymore.

“You hungry too, Sammy?” Castiel says and picks Sammy up who yawns. Castiel presses a kiss to his cheek, glad it doesn’t feel awkward. Once ago he didn’t even know how to answer a hug.

“Sammy needs his bottle!” Dean says in the kitchen, because he is still very protective of his brother. Castiel is glad some things don’t change. He warms the milk up with his grace and then pulls out a finished meal for Dean.

His Grace is very good for chores.

“Here you go.” Castiel says easily and then sits down next to Dean, Sammy on his lap. He enjoys this too. Dean babbles while eating his food way too fast, but he’s smiling so hard and Castiel answers to each question.

Sammy drinks his bottle without any fuss, but he falls asleep during it. Castiel smiles down at him. So glad he’s allowed to be this lucky.

“Don’t forget your vegetables, Dean.” Castiel says and Dean eats some of his carrots next. He is not overly excited about them, but he always does what he’s told. Castiel strokes over his hair.

“I need them. I wanna be tall like you.” Dean explains and Castiel grins. Well he knows exactly how tall Dean will grow and he grimaces at the thought to look up at Sam again.

“You will be.” Castiel promises and then pulls out a tiny piece of pie. Dean squeals happily, so Castiel shushes him, because Sammy is stirring a bit.

“Thank you, Cas. You’re the best.” Dean says so cute and polite, Castiel’s heart just melts. Dean manages to smear the pie over his face and Castiel takes one hand to clean that up with a towel.

“Messy Boy.” Castiel whispers, as fond as ever.

The next steps are fast. Castiel cleans them both again with his grace, puts Sammy in his Baby bed and then helps Dean brush his teeth and go to pee before bed. Dean is rubbing his eyes again.

So it will be an easy night.

Castiel helps Dean into his bed and softly tucks him in. Dean blinks up at him, that cute smile on his face again.

“Story?”

“Of course.” Castiel says and oh boy, he will be in a lot of trouble as soon as Dean realizes he has Castiel wrapped around his little finger.

Castiel sits down on Dean’s bed, making sure with his grace that Sammy on the other side of the room is fine and then starts to tell his favorite story.

“Once upon a time there were two brothers...” Castiel starts and he knows exactly that Dean easily falls asleep after just a few minutes.

Castiel looks down at Dean, who sleeps peacefully now. His fingers firmly tucked into his mouth. Castiel strokes through his hair.

“Sleep well, Dean. I will watch over you.” Castiel says and the same goes of course for Sam. He smiles, when his eyes shine in a bright blue. His grace bathes the room in a soft light. Almost like a baby light would.

Castiel sits down on the chair in the corner. Keeping his promise to watch over them. Castiel gets his angel blade out and smiles.

Azazel could come. Castiel will be waiting and he will be ready.

#my writing #sqz zine #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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chilling-seavey · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Epilogue

A/N I hated this when I started writing it but turns out I was just hungry. I ate and now I kinda vibe with it. I love love love this universe’s future almost more than the og novel universe lowkey-

August 30, 1966

Two pairs of little hands slid the delicate china plates onto the laminate countertop, tiny sticky fingers pushing the plates safely onto the surface ever so gently. Loretta glanced down from washing the dinner dishes, meeting two mirrored pairs of bright blue eyes and lightly freckles noses and her simple glance had two identical smiles beaming up at her.

“Thank you, my loves.” she said sweetly, petting them each on the head. “You’re great helpers.”

Daniel came up behind her and set the last dishes on the counter before pressing a kiss to her cheek, “Dinner was amazing as usual. Thank you.”

“Well I can’t let my family starve, now, can I?” Loretta joked, patting his chest as he leaned in to kiss her lips, the two children wrapping themselves around his legs like he was play structure. With one four-year-old sitting on each foot, Daniel was stuck in place and he held himself up on the counter as he looked down at them.

“Oh my…it looks like I have two super cute monsters tied to my legs.” Daniel tisked, bending down to tickle each of them until they were shrieking with laughter and scrambled off the floor and rushing down the hallway. Daniel called after them playfully, “It’s bath-time, little monsters, you better get upstairs before I catch you!”

Two little pairs of feet stomped up the stairs and the simple sound of the twins traipsing through the house always made Loretta’s heart warm and she leaned over to kiss Daniel’s shoulder, her hands still wet from washing the dishes. Daniel glanced back at her, leaning back against the counter with his hands behind him on the granite, catching her staring.

“What?” he chuckled lightly.

Loretta shrugged and bit back her smile, turning back to the soapy water in the kitchen sink, “Nothin’.”

“Nothin’?” Daniel mocked her, slipping closer and grabbing the front of her pleated blue pants with his pinky to urge her towards him too.

Loretta leaned in towards him until their noses brushed; always liking to linger on that excited flutter in her heart before their lips met – a feeling that never once faltered since their very first kiss nearly eight years before. Daniel’s hand slid slowly around her waist and across her lower back before pulling her right up against him so they were chest to chest, lips grazing ever so gently.

“I love you.” Daniel breathed, eyes flicking between hers and her lips in their close proximity.

“I love you too.” Loretta smiled, finally kissing him sweetly after just enough buildup.

A sudden thud from upstairs had them separating quickly and looking to the ceiling as if they could see what had happened from a full storey apart. Daniel scratched his fingers lightly over Loretta’s back for a moment and their eyes met again.

“I should go see what they’re up to up there.” Daniel whispered.

“Mhm.” Loretta chuckled. “I’ll be up for bedtime.”

She left him with one more kiss before he was pinching her hip lovingly and heading off down the hallway towards the stairs. She watched him disappear around the corner and smiled at his playful call up to the children,

“All arms, legs, and heads must be accounted for when I get up there!”

Fourteen foot steps later, a pair of laughing shrieks filled the house and Loretta’s heart absolutely swelled with glee as she turned back to the dishes. She flicked on the radio and sang softly as she scrubbed, not even bothering to overpower the sound of her family upstairs.

In the main bathroom at the top of the straight flight of stairs, the door was left open and two sets of children’s clothes were scattered over the floor and some even having landed in the hallway. Daniel was knelt on the tile beside the filled bathtub, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, as he scrubbed shampoo through two full heads of brown hair.

“It’s a good thing I have two hands, huh? It would be very difficult to wash you both if I only had one.” Daniel said.

“Not if you only had one of us, Daddy.” his daughter stated, busy pushing a toy boat through the soapy water.

“I would never ever only want one of you, so that is not even an idea.” Daniel tisked.

“You wouldn’t want only one arm too.” his son argued lightly.

“You are very right.” Daniel agreed. “When did I get such smart children?”

The four-year-old twins just giggled, staring up at him adoringly from their warm bath. He booped each of their noses, leaving a small blob of soap suds behind on each of them, and they both sneezed at the same time, making all three of them laugh.

“Okay,” Daniel grabbed the small plastic pail from the water and filled it up with clean water, “Diana dearest, you’re first. Eye closed.”

She scrunched her eyes closed and pinched her nose so he could dump the water over her head and rinse the shampoo from her hair. She rubbed the water out of her eyes and reached for her toy boat again.

“Your turn, Presley. Eyes closed.” Daniel said, filling the pail again.

The slightly younger twin shut his eyes and held his hands over his face so his hair could be rinsed as well.

When they were both washed and rinsed, Daniel drained the tub and got them each dried off and wrapped in fluffy towels, ushering them both down the carpeted hallway and into their shared bedroom as they dripped excess water in their wake. The twins sat on the end of each of their single beds as Daniel pulled out their pyjamas from their dresser and tossed them each a pair.

“I wanna see you dressed in your jammies when I get back, okay? Impress me.” Daniel said as he backed out of the room. The twins nodded and he tapped the doorframe before heading back to the bathroom to clean up. He gathered their dirty clothes and put the bath toys away just as Loretta finished the dishes and headed upstairs to join them.

Both parents headed back into the bedroom to find both four-year-old dressed in their pyjamas with wet hair and matching grins.

“You two blow me away. You’re too smart for me.” Daniel gaped, just to humour the children and they giggled proudly.

“Let’s get your hair dried so we don’t catch a cold.” Loretta said, stepping out of the doorway to let the twins lead the way into the master bathroom this time.

Daniel took the laundry downstairs to get it started while Loretta took her turn with the children, both of them sitting up on the bathroom counter as she blow-dried their hair and helped them brush their teeth. After a sip of water each and a quick bathroom break, they were rushing back down the upstairs hallway to bed.

Daniel returned in perfect timing to tuck them in, both him and Loretta making sure the sheets were tucked nice and tightly around each child. Loretta closed the curtains and turned on the lamp that sat on the table between the two single beds as Daniel climbed onto bed with his daughter. Diana shuffled over a little to give him room and he draped his arm over the pillows behind her head.

“What story do you want to hear tonight?” Loretta asked.

“Tell us a story, Mommy.” Presley said.

“Tell you a story? What kind of story?” Loretta sat on the side of his bed and brushed her fingers through his soft brown hair that was nearly falling in his eyes.

“How you and Daddy met.” Diana answered for her brother, but he nodded eagerly in agreement, only making his hair flop back over his forehead in the process.

Daniel and Loretta’s eyes met from across the children’s bedroom and they shared small smiles at all the memories that seemed to flick past their minds at the simple mention of their love story.

“Well, we didn’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter.” Loretta said, crossing her legs under her on the end of Presley’s bed. The children nuzzled into their sheets as they got cozy for the story. Daniel pressed a soft kiss to his daughter’s hair as she turned her head to face her mother. “When you become grownups, the universe gives you little hints to who is your perfect match and it’s up to you to find them. But the moment you meet, it is pretty hard to ignore it.”

“Uncle Christian met his soulmate and she had to go back home all the way across the world but the universe didn’t like that so they were brought back together eventually.” Daniel explained.

“And now they’re married.” Diana stated.

“Exactly.” Daniel smiled at her, running his thumb over her cheek and her light freckles. “Just like Mommy and me.”

“But how did you meet?” Presley pressed them on.

“Well, I guess it started in the summer of 1958, with strawberry milkshakes and a man named Elvis…”

#🍓#daniel seavey #soulmate au #soulmate!wdw #why dont we #wdw #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we fanfic #au

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vacker-jew-au · 3 years ago

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Chapter 2: Fuck Livvy But Like In A Different Way

Summary: Livvy is such a good parent for the Vackers, but the kids aren’t the only reason she stuck around.

Livvy is a little over the top in getting Della to go on a date with her

XxX

✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈✡️🏳️‍🌈

It was late, but unpacking seemed to take even longer than packing had. Not even half of the boxes were empty yet. All Della wanted was to collapse on the bed she apparently now shared with Livvy, but she kept emptying the boxes. It still didn’t feel entirely real that she’d moved.

So much had already happened that night. They leaped all the boxes over. They started to decorate the kids’ room. They quickly realized Della couldn’t share a room with the two little monsters. So, awkwardly stumbling around like the teenagers they were the last time they spent a night together, they came to the conclusion she would sleep in Livvy’s bed, with Livvy. Though Livvy apologized over and over they both knew it was okay, in fact, a small voice whispered that it was much more than just okay, Della shook it off.

And that’s how the two of them wound up sprawled on the couches, half unpacked boxes open all around them, laughing about their school days. Despite being high off a lack of sleep and a tad flustered, Della was having a great time.

“You remember how,” Della giggled, “Oralie and I were so close-” she coughed “-and practically dating, but!”

Livvy smiled, because, wow she’s so cute when she laughs, and Della grinned back because Livvy was listening and patient while she took a minute to breathe.

“She never even noticed,” Della finally said. “I gave her crush cuffs and she still didn’t know we were dating! I mean, I’m a disaster bisexual, so I know about obliviousness, but that’s kind of taking it to a whole new level.”

Livvy laughed. “She’s aroace, love, it was nothing against you.” She froze. “Shoot, I outed her, shoot!”

To be perfectly honest, Della had barely noticed everything else Livvy said, focusing instead on the endearment. She called me “love.” Love, that thing I promised myself I wouldn’t fall into, but already I have. Panicking, she brushed the thought aside and tried to concentrate on the conversation. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to, I haven’t even spoken to her in years. I’ll just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Livvy agreed, nodding. “So, now that you’ve dumped Alden- good riddance, by the way, he sucks- are you interested in dating anyone else?”

Like maybe me? She continued silently.

Della choked on her water and fought down a blush. “Um… I don’t think I will for a while? But you?” as in I want to date you, but I can't think that. She wouldn’t want to, would she?

Livvy frowned. Della’s answer was too panicked, too quick. Did she know that Livvy was trying to flirt with her? Probably, and she wasn’t interested. “I don’t know… maybe,” she muttered. “I mean, I kind of like a girl, but… I don’t think she likes me back.”

“Oh no, that sucks. To be honest? Me too,” Della looked away.

“Um… bedtime?” Livvy asked. Della nodded.

The next morning Biana poked Fitz until he woke up, “finally! Fitz, Mom is cuddling with Livvy!!”

“Shhh!” He hissed, “You're gonna wake them up.”

“Oh shit,” Biana whispered. Fitz punched her lightly.

✡️✡️✡️

Biana and Livvy quickly became close, in fact, they were so close that Biana started to think of her as a second mom. Fitz loved her too, Alden never had time for him, but Livvy? She taught him how to play Bramble, practiced Tae Kwon Do with him, helped him with baking because she noticed his ever-growing love of it. Fitz loved baking with his two moms, and he couldn’t help but notice the long looks and gentle touches they exchanged.

“Boop!” Della giggled, touching Livvy’s nose with flour on her fingertips. Livvy swatted her hand away and wiped her nose on Della’s cheek.

“Ha! Who’s the flour girl now?” Livvy grinned.

Whether she intended to or not Livvy had quickly become the parent Alden never was. It was nearly two months later when Della and the kids finally moved out and there was no question of whether Livvy would stay in their lives.

Even so, both kids were disappointed that Livvy wasn’t spending nearly as much time with them. She came over for dinner a few nights a week, but she wasn’t just down the hall when Biana had a nightmare, and she couldn’t help Fitz with his homework whenever he needed it.

Still, the kids cherished the time they had with Livvy, even if it wasn’t as often. Because it had started to interfere with Della’s work schedule, and Livvy took an interest in learning about the family’s religion, she agreed to take them to Hebrew school.

While they were on their way, Livvy’s tone turned from laughing about Fitz’s dramatic retelling of his best friend’s Great Gulon Incident to more serious. “Kids, I’m going to tell you a secret, but you have to promise you won’t tell your mom. Like, pinky promise.”

Fitz and Biana nodded solemnly and took turns pinky promising her.

“Alright, here goes. I have a crush on your mom and I want to ask if she’ll date me.”

Although neither of them were particularly surprised, Fitz and Biana exchanged excited glances. “I bet Mom will say yes!” Biana piped up. “She sometimes acts like she has a crush on you too!”

Livvy blushed. “Maybe. I hope so. But anyway, I know being Jewish is very special to you and your mom, so I want to make that a part of how I ask her out. And I don’t know a whole lot about Judaism yet, so I wanted to know if you two could help me.”

“Tu B’Av is coming soon,” Fitz suggested. “It’s kind of like the Jewish version of Valentine’s Day. Maybe you could do something then?”

“Okay, so, kiddos, are you down to help me plan?”

Biana squealed a loud “Yes!! Oh my goshhhh!!!”

And so plotting commenced. Tu B’av was on Sunday, a day the kids often visited, and they quickly figured out that the living room was a great dance floor if you moved the couches out of the way. Fitz found a recipe for rugelach and debated the best way to make them heart-shaped, individually or as a pull-apart type dish?

Biana was put on strawberry-dipping duty, the best she could do in the kitchen. She was a pro at decorating even then, so she helped Livvy with the living room. There were a couple bouquets of pink roses and lavender and the table looked better than any caterer could make it.

✡️✡️✡️

When Della finally arrived, Livvy was in the kitchen, she was scared, sweating. Biana pushed her into the living room, gave her a thumbs up and stage-whispered “You got this!” Della had no idea what was going on, and the assortment of flowers and heart shaped rugelach added to the confusion.

“Livvy?”

“Della- I- okay.”

“Liv?” Della asked, concerned

Livvy swallowed. “Um… tu b’av sameach?”

“Tu b’av sameach,” Della replied tentatively, smiling, scared to guess what she was about to say.

“Della, I love you so much, and I love your children and I love being with you. I want- Della, I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I just….”

Della takes Livvy’s face and pulls her in, kissing her gently, but forcefully.

“You better not be joking,” she whispers against Livvy’s lips, feeling like a teenager, she really shouldn’t question this.

“Does this look like a joke?” Livvy grinned, pulling back and showing her the room.

“Liv, this is- this is amazing.”

Livvy beamed.

“Wait, where are the monsters?” Della asked.

A little hand poked out from the kitchen doorway, pressing play on the phone Livvy had set up for music.

“Hi, Mom,” Biana grinned.

“Bye, Mama, Mom,” Fitz smiled behind her. “We’re going to Keefe’s.” They stood in the backyard and waved as they leaped.

The song faded and a new one began. Della recognized it immediately.

“Love of my life.”

Livvy pretended to continue the sentence, “dance with me?”

And then they were standing chest to chest swaying.

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart, and now you leave me

They stepped back and forth, neither sure exactly how to dance with another woman.

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you

Livvy spun Della out and as she dipped low crooned, “I still love you.”

Della tilted her head up and kissed her. Suddenly they weren’t dancing so much as kissing while standing in the middle of the room.

“Oh, Liv…..”

Livvy pulled Della with her to sit at the table. “Rugellach?” she offered. Della took one happily and laughed when she realized it was shaped like a heart.

“This is wonderful, Liv.”

“You’re wonderful,” Livvy replied, and Della blushed.

“How did you know about Tu B’av?” she asked, slightly breathless after they kissed again. “I didn’t think you knew much about Judaism.”

“I don’t,” admitted Livvy. “Your kids suggested it when I was picking them up from Hebrew school. I said I wanted to do something Jewish and romantic for you and they told me about it. Though I do want to learn more about Judaism so I can celebrate with you and your family.”

Della teared up a little, thinking about the contrast between Livvy and Alden. Thinking about the way she loved Livvy, loved her kids, Keefe, Grady, Edaline, her old mentors, the Rabbi.

“Today truly is a day for love.”

#jewish vackers #kotlc is jewish now #delivvy #them <3 #religion tw #kotlc #jewish #fitz vacker #kotlc biana #vackers #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfiction

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 4 years ago

Note

10 for Kouga and Rei

10. “Who did this?”

Kaoru is away, on a short tour to promote her newest picture book. Leo is at some conference of Makai Priests, working to design new Madou Tools. Even with Raiga’s enthusiastic running in the hallways the house echoes, and Kouga is restless. The feeling is strange by itself; once he knew every one of those echoes and welcomed them as friends. Now they feel like unwelcome strangers.

In the late afternoon, though, Raiga’s excited shouting heralds the arrival of a visitor, and is followed in short order by the sound of Rei saying, “Hey, Gonza, got room for one more for dinner?”

“Of course, Master Rei, there’s always enough for you.” Gonza sounds pleased. “And your room is, as always, ready.”

“Thanks, Gonza--don’t climb on me, you little monkey, where’s your dad?” Some excited, indistinct babbling from Raiga. “All right.” And then, “Oh, no, it looks like I dropped a box of Pocky, someone’s going to have to eat that before monsters get to it.”

Raiga lets out a howl of glee that only sort of sounds like, “Thank you, Uncle Rei!” and a few minutes later Rei leans into the study and waves. “Yo, Kouga. I just got off an easy job, thought I’d stop by.”

Kouga says, “It’s good to see you,” and doesn’t add, “Now the house might feel less empty.” Instead he goes with, “Gonza’s making that soup.”

“Shit, I’ve got great timing, then.”

After dinner they spar on the lawn in the fading light while Raiga watches, entranced. When they’re done, it’s Raiga’s bedtime, and he insists that they both read to him. They stay up for a bit after that, talking in the study over slices of one of Gonza’s excellent cakes, and then part ways to their own bedrooms to sleep.

Kouga lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, and doesn’t sleep at all. If the house felt too empty earlier, the bed feels doubly so without Kaoru in it. Steadfast, he shuts his eyes and tries every meditation technique he knows, but rest refuses to come. The bed is too big.

He gives up, gets out of the too-big bed, pulls on pants and a shirt, and walks barefoot down the hall to Rei’s room.

Where--the door opens before he can even knock, before he’s even quite there. “Took you longer than I was expecting,” Rei says, gesturing cheerfully with the book in his hand. “Come on, I brought a bottle of that scotch you like.”

“You knew I was coming?”

“Kaoru’s out of town. You can never get to sleep right when she’s away. She texted me.” Rei grins as he shuts the door. “You know, ‘hey, I’m going to Fukuoka to show off how cute and talented I am, go sleep with my husband,’ that sort of thing.”

“She didn’t say that.”

Rei raises an eyebrow, passes Kouga his cell phone, and pours him a scotch. “Don’t know how you can drink this stuff.”

Kouga stares at the phone screen. “She actually said, ‘go sleep with my husband.’“

“Told you.”

Kouga sips his drink slowly while Rei goes through two White Russians that are mostly cream, and when both of them have empty glasses, Rei says, “So. Bed?” and Kouga nods, and it’s that simple.

His bed is smaller than Kouga and Kaoru’s, and they fit in it well together. It’s better.

He also has a new scar, cutting across his stomach--something that could have been a disemboweling cut, if it was very slightly deeper. Kouga doesn’t see it at first, but he feels it, with his tongue, and then his hand, and then he looks up with a frown. “You didn’t have this the last time you were here.”

Rei winces slightly at Kouga’s touch. “Sure didn’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“This isn’t a small wound, Rei, who did this?” Logically, Kouga knows that Rei is obviously still alive, here in the bed with him, and perfectly capable of defending himself, but the thought of something trying to cut him open burns.

“You’re not going to keep going unless I tell you, are you?”

Kouga just gives him a steady look.

Rei sighs. “It wasn’t anyone. Just some leftovers from a nest of Horrors I took out years ago. One of them got in a lucky hit.”

“Who took care of it?”

“Kain and Yuna, they were backing me up. It was fine.” A beat, and then, with more of a teasing air, “Since when do you worry about me so much?”

“I...” Kouga trails off with a frown.

It happened at some point. It grew in him, like a seed that Kaoru planted, and spread its vines through the rooms of his house so that they now feel empty when not filled with human sounds, and through his body so that he now feels lonely when only in his own company.

Rei says, softly, “You don’t actually have to answer that, you know.”

So Kouga doesn’t answer. It’s easier not to answer.

He suspects Rei knows anyway.

Somewhat later, sleep does come, both of them drifting off leaning against each other in the bed. It feels right, hearing someone else breathing next to him, like things have always been like that, and any deviation is what’s strange. Kouga sleeps, and if he dreams then he doesn’t remember it, which is how he prefers dreaming to go.

Shortly before dawn, they’re woken by the soft sound of footsteps in the hallway, and then the door of Rei’s bedroom creaks open to reveal a small form in Kamen Rider pajamas, who rubs his eyes sleepily and says, “I had a bad dream.”

Kouga sits up and beckons while Rei unobtrusively reaches off the side of the bed to retrieve a pair of boxers, and within a few minutes Raiga is nestled against the pillows in between them and already falling asleep. “I dreamed you got eaten by a hole in the sky,” he mumbles.

“It was just a dream, Raiga. I’m right here.” Kouga pauses, frowning. “How did you know I was in here?”

“I looked in your and Mom’s room and you weren’t there.” Raiga yawns, eyes fluttering shut. “So that means you’re in here with Uncle Rei.”

Rei claps a hand over his mouth, eyes gleaming. “That’s a pretty smart guess,” he says into his palm, voice shaking with suppressed laughter. “Your mom and dad do sleep in here a lot.”

Kouga squints at him over the top of Raiga’s head and then lies back, resting his cheek against Raiga’s hair as Rei gets comfortable again on the other side of the bed. “Go to sleep.”

#saejima kouga #suzumura rei #saejima raiga #fanfiction #askrikkaiandhyotei

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andrewmoocow · 4 years ago

Text

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 11: In Dreams (originally posted on March 29, 2021)

AN: Hope you all packed your bags dear readers, cause we're gonna go on a real trip. One of my initial ideas for Alternate Future was with the addition as Aquamarine as a more major antagonist, we'd also have a mini-character arc about Peridot blaming herself for Steven's capture at the end of Season 4 even years later, which I felt was kind of a waste of possible character development for the little nacho. Regardless, it's time I finally see it through myself. And trust me, I'm really gonna put Peri through the wringer.

Synopsis: Steven's dream powers start acting up when he and Peridot want to watch TV.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven, Stefan

Shelby Rabara as Peridot

Johnny Hawkes as Cookie Cat, Rodrigo

Marieve Hernington as Jasmine

Della Saba as Marine, Aquamarine

The night was dark as Steven strolled through Beach City on his way home after a long day until he heard music. Racing to the beach house, he discovered that colorful flashing lights and loud music were coming from inside the house, and that got him super excited.

"All right!" Steven gasped cheerfully. "Now that I've saved the universe, I finally get to party!" When he raced to his front window, Steven could see all his friends inside dancing the night away. Garnet, Amethyst & Pearl, Lars and the Off-Colors, Lapis, Bismuth & Peridot, Connie, even Onion was breaking it down. Before he could join the fun, however, the door and windows suddenly vanished, leaving behind an empty wooden wall. "Huh? Hey guys, let me in! This isn't funny!"

"STEVEN!" a booming voice echoed from above. When Steven looked up, he discovered that Obsidian's head was replaced with a giant Cookie Cat looking down on him with a taunting grin. "NOBODY NEEDS YOUR HELP! SO WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

"What?!" Steven cried before the porch opened up like a trap door under him, forcing the boy to fall through the sky screaming.

"STEVEN! STEVEN!"

A little voice broke Steven out of slumber and back into the real world in his bedroom. "Why do I keep having these dreams?" he mused to himself. "Are they telling me something?"

"STEVEN, OPEN UP!" the voice cried out while pounding on the door.

"Peridot?" Steven began to recognize the green Gem's nasally voice as he walked downstairs and let the former Kindergartener in.

"STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" Peridot chanted, beetling in place while holding popcorn and drinks. "Today's the big day! Did you tape the premiere?!"

"What premiere? I have no idea what you're talking about." Steven said coyly.

"But you promised me!" Peridot whined, not realizing that her half-organic friend might be joking.

"Oh, you mean the premiere of the reboot of the classic Great North teen camping drama Camp Pining Hearts that I recorded," Steven revealed as he pulled out a VHS tape. "on this very tape?"

Peridot gasped at the mere mention of the show she had awaited for so long and began squealing excitedly. "Yes, it's finally here!"

"THE RETURN OF CAMP PINING HEARTS!" the pair declared joyfully.

Steven and Peridot raced upstairs to watch the Camp Pining Hearts reboot when Steven realized someone was missing. "Hey, where's Lapis? I thought she was a big fan of CPH as you are."

"Oh, she declined to attend our viewing because she feels this reboot will be an abomination." Peridot answered as she sat down at the foot of Steven's bed. "You know that United Defenders of the World show? She really likes that too, and that's gotten a reboot much like Camp Pining Hearts, but she doesn't like how that is so dark and depressing because apparently, it's more adult. I mean, come on! Can't we go one minute without any intense violence or Mangolin yelling so many nasty wo-"

"What, she's not coming because one show clouds her judgment of another?" Steven rolled his eyes at Peridot's explanation while putting the tape into his VHS player. "That's a little silly. But I'm glad you were still able to come because I've been having these weird dreams lately. Like, are any of them real or-"

"That's not important Steven!" Peridot shut her fellow fan's mouth. "Now press play already you monster!"

Steven chuckled for a bit before he started the tape, and the theme song for the Camp Pining Hearts reboot began to play while two attractive young actors were credited for the roles of its leads, Jasmine and Rodrigo. Steven excitedly ate popcorn while Peridot waved a Great North flag around as the show began.

Fifty-two minutes later, the credits finally rolled, and Steven & Peridot were left stunned, silent, and disappointed.

"L-Lapis warned me, and I didn't listen." Peridot quivered in shock.

"W-what?" Steven added, just as horrified. "What…."

"WHAT HAVE THEY DONE?!" the pair roared in unison.

"What is with that Rodrigo guy?!" Peridot began complaining and clawing at her face. "He has no charisma! He is clearly inferior to the old cast!"

"And can we just talk about the cinematography?" Steven added just as furiously while Peridot got up and marched towards the TV.

"They changed all the characters, and I don't care about any one of them!" Peridot threw a tantrum and began venting by picking up the set & slamming it to the ground. "How could this happen to us?!" she began to cry her eyes out on the television. "Camp Pining Hearts was my escape when I first arrived on Earth, when my whole world was nothing but chaos!"

"CPH brought us all together." Steven comforted his green friend, though he was sobbing as well.

"And now, just look at this nightmare!" Peridot yelled with a hand to the TV screen when it stopped showing the Camp Pining Hearts reboot. Instead, it began playing Steven's dream from last night. "Wait, Steven, when were you ever an actor?"

"What? No, they didn't!" Steven exclaimed as the dream continued on television. "Is this my dreams?" When Steven watched himself fall from the beach house in his dream, the TV then switched back to Camp Pining Hearts. "Whoa! My dream powers must be messing with the TV signal!"

"How in the world is that even possible?!" Peridot raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but it also gave her an idea. "Wait just a second. Steven, you realize what this means?!"

"I should start wearing a tinfoil hat?" Steven asked, unaware of what the little genius had planned.

"No!" Peridot answered. "If we use your dream powers on the TV, we can make our own Camp Pining Hearts! We'll reboot the reboot!"

"Reboot the reboot?" Steven realized and excitedly stood up. "Peridot, you're a genius!"

"I know." Peridot smugly declared.

"Plus, it would be really fun to fix something small this time." Steven said before Peridot wrapped a lime-colored arm around his neck.

"This shall be the beginning of Peridot & Steven Productions!" Peridot triumphantly declared.

"Yeah!" Steven added, and then he fell from Peridot's grasp.

Later that day, Steven and Peridot were now standing in front of a whiteboard detailing all their plans for fixing the Camp Pining Hearts Reboot, bouncing more plans off each other in regards to shipping.

"So Peridot, you think Jasmine's endgame should be Khaz or Rodrigo?" Steven asked Peridot while looking at a web of pictures of the characters from the reboot.

"It seems the characters are trying to railroad us into a Jasrigo relationship, despite turning everyone else into complete jerks just because they don't agree with-" Peridot began, but then she started getting irritated. "Gah, these characters have no chemistry together! It's like they're being shipped just because they're the leading man and woman!"

"Just can't get into Rodrigo, eh?" Steven asked his writing partner.

"He's just so passive and quiet, it's positively irritating!" Peridot yelled. "He has none of the old cast's personalities that made them so memorable!"

"Sure he may be really quiet and soft," Steven assured Peridot. "but what if we try to do something with his social anxiety and peanut allergy despite them not being connected to the larger story, like make him a foil?"

"A foil, you say?" Peridot raised an eyebrow at Steven's idea. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I got it!" Steven declared before he sat down in front of some pencils and paper and began to draw. "I call him Stefan." He began explaining while drawing. "He's a hunky lifeguard friend with nice muscles that everyone likes and wants to hang out with. His popularity is both a blessing and a curse, yet always makes time to help his buddy Rodrigo boost his confidence." He handed his final drawing over to Peridot, which turned out to be a sketch of a more muscular Steven.

"So he's like your self-insert!" Peridot beamed at her friend's work. "I like your ideas, Stefan!"

As night fell, Steven got back into bed with a bowl of chili in his lap while Peridot inserted the tape into the VCR player.

"Uh, why are you eating at bedtime?" Peridot questioned Steven's choice of a bedtime meal.

"Oh, you mean my chili?" Steven replied, gesturing to the chili in his hands. "I read that eating spicy stuff before bed makes your dreams super vivid."

"I appreciate your initiative, fellow creator." Peridot grinned at Steven's idea while he continued eating his chili.

"Thanks, Peridot." Steven thanked Peridot before putting the bowl on his nightstand and tucking himself in. "Okay, good night."

"Good night Steven. But remember," Peridot said as she started whispering into Steven's ear. "action-orientated storytelling."

"Hey Jasmine, I hear you love birds." A tanned, muscular version of Steven said flirtatiously to a cute brown-haired girl examining a bird perched in her hand.

"Sure Stefan." Jasmine giggled cutely.

"Well, a little birdie told me downstream that there's a special island somewhere 'round here." Stefan replied, leaning against a tree and giving Jasmine a wink while pointing offscreen. "I hear it's full of rare specimens."

"Did you hear that?" Jasmine gasped elatedly. "Thank you so much Stefan!" Stefan responded by giving Jasmine another wink.

Meanwhile, Rodrigo was by himself at a campsite reading an instructional book on how to date when Stefan came racing to him.

"Rodrigo, I've got terrible news!" Stefan exclaimed, catching Rodrigo's attention. "Jasmine's in danger!"

"Wait, what?!" Rodrigo did a double-take in response.

"She's headed for that island full of dangerous birds!" Stefan revealed, propping one foot on a rock and dramatically pointing to the river nearby. "But if we go downstream, we can surely save her!"

"Okay Stefan, you're the best!" Rodrigo shouted. "Let's go save Jasmine!"

The pair raced for a pair of canoes docked close to the campsite and began rowing through the river to rescue Jasmine.

"Thanks for telling me Jasmine was in trouble Stefan, you're such a great guy." Rodrigo complimented Stefan.

"You're welcome Rodrigo." Stefan replied gratefully. "You're pretty great yourself, y'know, great enough for Jasmine to like you."

"You really mean it?" Rodrigo asked eagerly.

"I can tell by the way she looks at," Stefan began, but then he started getting sidetracked by Blue Diamond with the body of a dolphin, a gargantuan pineapple with Yellow Diamond's face on it, and a pair of White Diamond's feet right next to the fruit. "you? Huh?"

"Stefan, is something the matter?" Rodrigo asked Stefan, or rather Steven, who had now replaced Stefan in the dream.

"Oh no, not again!" Steven began panicking as he started to glow pink yet again, not knowing how things ended up like this.

As Steven woke up in his bed, he found Peridot standing at the side of his bed, looking very excited at how the experiment went.

"Oh my stars Steven, you did it!" Peridot cheered excitedly. "You just fell asleep and started turning pink, which started happening in the dream! Here, I'll show you!" She then ran over to the TV and began playing Steven's dream again. "Our script, our story, it's on the television and it's wonderful!" she kept on praising. "Not sure what you were going for with that bizarre imagery towards the end but I'll admit, seeing Yellow Diamond's face on a pineapple made me laugh."

Amid Peridot's eagerness, however, Steven then started to get drowsy again.

"Steven, are you okay?" Peridot asked with concern.

"Sorry Peri, just feeling a little off." Steven assured her. "Maybe eating that chili wasn't a great idea."

"Yeah yeah, don't believe everything you read online and all that." Peridot japed. "We got none of the money in the world, and all the time in our hands. Hey, I've got a great idea of my own! Picture this, a mysterious young woman with a teardrop tattoo on her face arrives at the camp because she wants to kidnap Stefan for her own dark designs. But before she can succeed, Pierre from the original Camp Pining Hearts comes in to save the day!"

"Uh, okay then." Steven replied awkwardly while trying to make himself comfortable. "But you're right, let's pull off a do-over. We can try as many times as we want until we get it right."

"Less talking, more sleeping." Peridot pushed a star-shaped pillow into Steven's chest and forced him onto his mattress before pulling his eyelids down.

Every time Steven went to sleep, he was back to canoeing with Rodrigo to rescue Jasmine. And every time, Rodrigo was replaced in his canoes by some very unexpected characters.

The first time this happened, Rodrigo was suddenly replaced by Dogcopter, of all things. As Dogcopter flew off using the propeller on his back, Stefan reached out to the flying canine before Steven awakened with bags under his eyes.

The second time, Rodrigo's place was taken by Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. The three Gems then flew away from Stefan just like Dogcopter did, and Stefan cried out for them before Steven woke up yet again, and the bags were starting to get darker.

The third time, Rodrigo didn't disappear. Instead, he started getting more unnerved as Spinel's massive Injector was present in the background, and Stefan was suddenly replaced with Steven as a baby.

Suddenly, a young woman with a teardrop tattoo on her face, just like what Peridot had described, snatched the baby Steven from the canoe with a maniacal laugh before Pierre, who now looked like he had green-lensed glasses and triangular hair, boldly stepped in and stood up to the woman.

Steven once again woke up, his baggy eyes now at their darkest, while Peridot just sighed in defeat.

The next morning, Steven sat down to some cereal and milk in the kitchen when Peridot suddenly appeared with a big stack of papers in front of her. "Uh, what's all this?"

"I've concluded that a script just wasn't working!" Peridot proudly announced. "So I've decided to take a more visual approach and made a whole series of storyboards for us to use! Besides, I've seen tons of cartoons use more storyboards than scripts, for better or for worse."

"You made all of these in one night?' Steven gasped in amazement at the triangular Gem's feat while looking through the storyboards.

"Duh, I'm good at everything!" Peridot bragged. "Now please study these in preparation for tonight."

"Hey, I got a question." Steven said while putting out one of the storyboards that featured the same tattooed woman from his dream. "Who's this girl, and why does Pierre look so much like you now?"

"Uh, that's Marine, Pierre's new arch-foe!" Peridot answered, awkwardly twiddling her fingers and looking in every conceivable direction. "She is totally not based on anyone we've met before."

"Are you sure?" Steven asked suspiciously while flicking through more storyboards featuring Marine. "Cause her haircut and location of her tattoo kinda reminds me of Aq-" Suddenly, he stopped to discover a new storyboard of Stefan having a romantic moment with Jasmine. "Wait, why is Stefan kissing Jasmine?"

"It's perfect!" Peridot yelled eagerly. "Right as Rodrigo is about to save Stefan from this reverse damsel in distress situation, he discovers that Jasmine got to him first, and they're already kissing too! Imagine, Jasmine defying gender clichés to save Stefan, unaware that they're stroking the fires of Rodrigo's jealousy!"

"I can't do Rodrigo this dirty!" Steven objected to the idea. "It's not only a betrayal of the friendship we gave him and Stefan, but it's also poor romantic drama too!"

"Whoa, take it easy Steven, they're just characters. No need to become so addicted to their love lives!" Peridot tried to excuse herself. "This is a story, and a good story needs conflict!"

"No, I still don't want to do this!" Steven declared angrily, startling Peridot before she came to an understanding.

"Look Steven, I can see you're pretty worn out from last night." Peridot said sadly as she began to get up and walk away. "Let's just scrap the whole project."

"What?" Steven replied in shock.

"There's really no point in continuing if it stresses you out that much." Peridot sighed as she grabbed the door handle. "Besides, I got classes to teach at Little Homeworld anyway."

But when Peridot was close to opening the front door and leaving the house, a flash of pink convinced Steven to change his mind. "No, wait!" he exclaimed, stopping the little Gem in her tracks. "I'll do the scene."

"Really?!" Peridot turned back with a cute smile and stars in her eyes.

"Anything to make you happy." Steven replied wearily. Though he was happy that Peridot was happy, he let out a heavy sigh as he was forced to put his friends before himself yet again.

"Oh no, that dastardly Marine has Stefan captured!" Rodrigo cried as he quickly rowed downstream to save his dear friend. "Jasmine said she's going to help him, but I haven't heard from her since!"

But just as Rodrigo finished his sentence, he finally found Stefan and Jasmine safe from harm, while Marine was left tied up beside them.

"You won't get away with this Stefan!" Marine yelled before she noticed Rodrigo, and had another fiendish idea in the works. "Hey Rodrigo, look! Your best friend's a cheater!"

"What?!" Rodrigo exclaimed, staring straight at Stefan and Jasmine kissing passionately. "Stefan, how could you?!"

"Rodrigo, this isn't what it looks like!" Stefan cried to Rodrigo in Steven's voice, but he wasn't there. And neither were Jasmine and Marine. And right before Stefan was a very angry-looking Connie. "Connie?"

Suddenly, Connie began to grow into the size of a giant and then turned into Obsidian. Stefan meanwhile was turned back into Steven as the Connie-Obsidian hybrid raised a foot and lowered it to crush him.

Steven then woke up in his old room wearing his old pajamas. Just like in the real world, Peridot remained by his side watching the television, but she was eerily silent, a far cry from her usual smug and loud yet cheerful nature.

"Peridot, my dreams are going nuts!" Steven informed Peridot while getting out of bed and walking over to her. "First everyone disappeared, then Jasmine turned into Connie, and she tried to squish me which is how I ended up here!" However, Peridot said nothing and continued facing the television. "Peridot?" Steven asked as he grabbed the green Gem's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

When Steven turned Peridot to face him, her visor and gem were now filled with SMPTE color bars and her expression showed no emotion at all. Steven's old bedroom abruptly vanished, and his PJs turned into his normal clothes as he noticed Peridot emotionlessly marching towards the beach house from the dream he woke up from the previous day. "Peridot!"

"Oh, poor little Steven." A familiar bratty voice called to Steven as he chased after Peridot. From the clouds came Aquamarine, still as haughty as ever and now in possession of her wand once more. "Don't you see? It's all her fault that I kidnapped you, that you had to learn all those horrible things about your mother! And yet not once did her blatant betrayal ever come up again."

"You don't know Peridot like I do, you little twerp!" Steven yelled at Aquamarine as he gained on Peridot, who was about to open the front door. "She's changed ever since we first met. She once tried to kill me like every other Gem who's ever antagonized me, but now she's become so sweet and funny!"

"Oh please, just because you like her now doesn't mean you should completely forget about all the ways she's harmed you." Aquamarine taunted before she restrained Steven with a tractor beam, but his iron will allowed him to resist as he tried to stop Peridot.

"Please Peri, don't go in there!" Steven strained from resisting the tractor beam and reached out to Peridot. "I still really want to hang out with you!" Just then, the floor disappeared beneath Steven and Peridot just like in the earlier dream. Peridot seemingly floated in midair while Steven leaped to the edge of the porch and continued reaching out to her, as the front of the house turned into color bars as well. "We always had something to fix together! The Cluster, the Diamonds, Spinel, but I don't know how I can be anyone's friend without something to fix!"

"Why can't you just surrender already?!" Aquamarine yelled as she tried to reel Steven in like a fish. "Your suffering is all because of her, and she's felt so worthless because of you!" Unfortunately for her, the tractor beam broke and the small, flying Gem was catapulted away from the pair. "We'll meet again brat!"

"I-I just can't do it anymore!" Steven cried to Peridot, unaware of the dream version of Aquamarine's failure to catch him. "I'm just so tired, and now I'm even trying to fix something in my dreams!" He soon started to cry as he got closer to Peridot. "I'm sorry I can't do this for you! Just please don't leave me!"

Peridot remained stoic as Steven kept on grasping for her. "Don't…leave."

The dream ended just like a VHS tape being removed from a VCR before a muffled voice began calling for Steven.

"Steven? Steven!"

Steven was suddenly shook awake with tears in his eyes, and he discovered Peridot leaning over him crying just as much.

"I saw everything Steven, and yes, it is true!" Peridot admitted sorrowfully. "A good reason why I was using your dreams is because I never got over how you were kidnapped because of me! I was so worried the other Gems would declare me a traitor, but they never bothered to bring it up. You know what, we don't have to do this anymore!" Steven then gave her a tight hug. "I don't care about the show anymore, or Rodrigo especially! I just want what's best for you! I'm such a clod!"

"It's okay Dottie, it's okay." Steven comforted his green pal. "I kind of knew something was up when you first mentioned Marine and Pierre, but I didn't know you've bottling this up for so long."

"I know, it's so unhealthy of me." Peridot wept. "I just needed something to vent with, so that's why I wanted to spend time with you. It's okay if you don't want an excuse to hang out anymore."

"But I do want to keep hanging out." Steven assured Peridot. "With or without all this trauma. We're friends, right?"

"I guess you're right." Peridot smiled sadly.

"You still want to watch CPH together," Steven offered. "even if it's terrible?"

In response, Peridot took off her visor and began wiping some tears, shedding the mask she had kept up for her entire stay. "Of course."

"How could you lie to me like this Rodrigo?!" Jasmine yelled crossly at her love interest while Steven and Peridot laughed as it all went down. "I bet you just can't help being an awful person!"

"You just buried a dead body Jasmine, and you're getting mad at Rodrigo for cheating at cards?!" Peridot cackled, pounding her fist on the floor. "Some protagonist you turned out to be! Oh my stars, this show is the worst!"

"This show is the best." Steven smiled contently before the pair leaned up against each other with smiles on their faces.

Like I said, wasted opportunity for more Peridot development. And yes my friends, that United Defenders of the World show was a total middle finger to dark & edgy teen drama reboots of family-friendly properties with fans of all ages. It happened to Archie, it happened to Winx Club and it's even gonna happen to the Powerpuff Girls soon. But I'm getting off topic, this was a pretty fun chapter to write since I love Peridot so much and she has an incredible dynamic with Steven. Speaking of green Gems, next chapter goes into original territory once again as we finally shine a light on a corrupted Gem that's seemingly been erased from existence come Future. That's right Nephrite, come on down!

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #peridot

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